Angry Young Man

"He's been stabbed in the back, he's been misunderstood.
It's a comfort to know his intentions are good."

I don't know why, but I've been itching to listen to this song for a couple days now. I did today as I folded laundry and it struck me. Billy Joel wrote this song about me back in the early 70's.
Well, not me specifically, obviously. That would be spooky. But he may have well written it about me. Pretty accurate.
Maybe if some of the selfish jackasses at my last job had heard this song, they might have understood me a little better. Maybe not. The kids today are inherintly (duh) dumber than they were back in my day.

Watch and be amazed...



"He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl.
He's always at home with his back to the wall.
He's proud of the scars and the battles he's lost.
He struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross
and he likes to be known as the Angry Young Man."


Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "I don't think this song is intended to be a biographical account of somebody positive, or even tragic. Now, The Old Man in the Sea is a riveting account of a tragic hero. You should pity him."


Fuck the old man and the sea. Irregardless (duh) of the song's intent, I'm right about this.

In closing, I'd like to share something from the "Girls I really really wanna have sex with, but who wouldn't?" files...

Sophie Sweet aka Sweet Sophie Moon.


You're welcome.

Fluxation without Representation

I've recently had a change in occupation. It was not by choice, but rather thrust upon me. In literally seconds after I was fired from one job, another was offered to me. I'm no expert on hiring/firing, but that turnaround time has got to be a record. It's certainly unique. In this era of economic woe and want, I'm just thankful I'm not unemployed.


Now, the reasons behind my release from a certain coffee dispensary are frankly, quite bogus. Let's just say that I am now looking at my former, fellow baristas in a new light.
In short, fuck 'em. Not all of them, mind you. Just a few. They know who they are. May they all live forever in ignorant bliss. Selfish jackasses.

So I was picked up via free agency in a matter of seconds (literally) by another institution. I'm not prepared to disclose the company by name (thanks to what little pride I have left) but here's a hint...



Nuff said. About that, anyways.

I'm trying very hard to remain positive. Betrayal by your peers is a tough pill to swallow, under any circumstances. So it's not easy. But I got 3 feature length films coming out in a matter of months, and I've done 2 very good shorts this past year. So I've got an impressive reel to show at auditions. Maybe it's time to hire an agent...



Also, the ever-so-wise Overseer at Karma Critic, FableForge has asked me to write film reviews again for the site, plus for a regular segment on the weekly radio show. I did have my reasons for stopping, but I love reviewing films so much, I considered it.


I called upon the Supernatural and hired a fortune teller to summon the impatient ghost of Robert Shaw for advice. Once he began reciting the famous Indiannapolis speech from Jaws, I knew I had to write film reviews again.
I don't know why, I just know what.
What? Well... maybe not. It's all a bit cloudy.

Yeah.
Cloudy. That's a good word.

Just out of curiosity, I sought the advice of another former ex-friend that had betrayed me in the past.


When I asked REDSEXGODDESS, she said, "Ask me again when you have some money."
Considering the gig for KarmaCritic doesn't pay, I disregarded Red's advice as shallow and pedantic.

Anybody else want a taco?