PokeCATS

My mind.  Blown.  Two of my favorite things in the world.  Together in beautiful harmony.  (Click the picture for the .gif to work)

I just might cry.

Also, the same guy who made NYAN CAT made this.  I think he's probably the coolest person in the world right now.

Here's a link to his blog:  http://www.prguitarman.com/index.php?id=379

Unheimlich

Hello!  This is my first attempt at a horror story of this kind that I actually liked, and so I decided to throw it up on my blog.  Take a look at it, and go ahead and comment and tell me what you think!  I loves dah feedback.

It is currently Sunday at 5:00 pm. The last arrows of weak light from the dying winter sun are piercing through the gaps in the blinds of my bedroom window. Dust motes lazily float in the warm air inside of my house while outside already freezing temperatures begin their spiraling descent into the deep chill of the night.

Dusk is the worst time of day. With the setting of the sun, a peculiar emotion filters through my body. There is loneliness, to be sure—something about the light sliding across the land, away from the rushing darkness. I feel something else as well; something that I cannot put my finger on. Something that gives me pause whenever I feel it, though I do not know why. As if I am not at home—uncomfortable and peculiar—even in my own skin.

Everything in my house is quiet, save the low hum of my computer and the background drone of warm air rushing out of metal vents near the floor, like hot breath being expelled from some primordial creature. It is comfortable now—I've drawn the curtains, the grating sound of metal rings on rusty rod sounding out in the calm.

I choose to live a life of solitude. My deformity has never, and never will, garner any positive attention for myself.

Moving

Note:  My apologies for the sappiness of this post.  I will be leaving for college soon, and soon after that my family will be selling our house in Wooster and moving everything and everyone down to Marietta.

As I drove away from my friend's house late one night on the eve of his exodus to college—the beginning of the end of my summer—a huge bouquet of emotions bloomed in my brain, the seeds of which had been planted by the memories of living in this town.

These snapshots of the past, punctuated with laughter and shouting and happiness and sadness and loneliness  of bygone times all balled into one mass inside of my psyche, set off a chain reaction.

"Cowboys and Aliens," holy crap!

"Cowboys and Aliens" was really fun to watch.  It wasn't a great movie in any sense, really.  But I'm still glad I saw it.
Because, hell, cowboys are fighting aliens in it.  And Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford team up to beat the snot out of said aliens.  And because alien/western is a pretty cool genre mash-up that shouldn't work very well at all despite the fact that it does.
And Olivia Wilde is really cute.

Pictured above:  purdy.

If you're interested in seeing my full review, check it out on Speakeasy!

My problem with the first season of "The Walking Dead"

Recently, I have talked with a few of my friends about what they thought of the first season of AMC's supposed "hit" zombie-drama "The Walking Dead."  The thing that I keep hearing from the majority of them, and the thing that continually stuns me, is that they actually really liked it.

Zombies.  How could they do it wrong?

Now, let me be clear.  I did not like this show in the least when I first saw it.  I thought that it was poorly done, ill-staffed (both in regards to the actors and the writers) and a general waste of my time.

However, I decided that mayhap I had been too harsh with the fledgling TV series.  After all, the graphic novels of "The Walking Dead" are absolutely awesome and some of my favorite things to read, and zombies have always held a special place in my heart when it comes to my entertainment love.  Much as those macabre shamblers ravenously devour flesh, I too have consumed hundreds of hours of zombie media, be it in the form of literature, movies or video game.

Honestly, I know that I can tell a good zombie story from a bad zombie story.  Rather than doubting myself, though, I decided to watch the entire "Walking Dead" first season again, now with a critical eye to not only the  show but on my attitude itself, to make sure I was not just being some rare breed of zombie hipster elitist.

After watching the series again, and taking a look at the graphic novels, and analyzing what it is exactly that so bothered me the first time I saw it, I've made a few conclusions about the show.

WARNING:  SPOILER ALERT.  I'm talking about a lot of junk from the first season, so if you don't want anything spoiled, then I suggest you leave now.  And preferably read the graphic novel to catch up...