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HolyCowbear
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Name: Chase
Birthday: 8/5/1983
Gender: Male
Interests: The Summer Edition: Meaghan, movies, reading childish books about hound dogs or warrior cats, roadtrips or traintrips as the case might have to be, going to museums and aquariums and beaches and parks, missing the south.
Message: message me
Member Since:
8/2/2005
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| HAPPY BIRTHDAY WES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | | |
| If you don't see one movie this Holiday season, it should be "The Fountain." It is the biggest waste of $15 since PoTC2. In fact, I liked PoTC2 BETTER and ya'll know how much I hated that piece of shit. I wish I could take back the two hours of my life I spent in that theater today. I can't even ... I don't even know if it was a good or bad movie because I didn't understand it. Like it really ... I mean, if you want to go see it and you get it then please come tell us what it was all about. Because we have no clue. We just don't We sat through the entire end credits wandering what the hell we just say. It's the strangest thing ever. Its the kind of crap you see from film students who think they're really smart, but just leave everyone confused and emotionless. I don't understand and I'm angry and I want someone to explain it to me because I can't even come up with some bullshit explanation of my own for it. It was so stupid it made me feel stupid for not being able to understand it. We're going to make our movie called 'Understanding The Fountain' and we're going to ask people if they can tell us what it meant and it will be real funny watching them try to sound smart like they had any more of a clue than us. | | |
| Happy Thanksgiving! Today is an important Thanksgiving, as it is mine and Meaghan's first Thanksgiving together doing our own thing. We're cooking a turkey breast and baked potatoes and crescent rolls and I think she's making herself cranberry sauce, but I am obviously not eating that. So far, we seem to be doing a good job with the turkey. It smells good. I love turkey. I love my girlfriend who walked like two six blocks to the store in the rain last night to buy the groceries for today. I love the dog show that comes on after the parade that I don't love nearly as much as I used to because a lot of the performances sucks. I'm talking about you Diana Degarmo. I want a Great Dane for Christmas. But I've nowhere to put it so it'll have to wait a few Christmases. This is very random. I think I'll stop now. Have a great day everyone! | | |
| If you see one movie this Holiday season, it should be 'Stranger Than Fiction.' Meaghan and I went expecting something entertaining at best. A few hours of a few laughs. I loved Will Ferrell on SNL, but his movies so far haven't appealed to me. 'Elf' was a cute Christmas movie, but nothing to write home about. 'Old School' and 'Anchorman' and 'Talladega Nights' looked like they might be funny for ten minutes before I wanted to shoot myself and make him calm the hell down, so I never bothered. But this ... this was one of those wonderful moments in Cinema when you go with little expectations and get blown away by the sheer genius of it all. The story, the performances, the meaning. It was the same feeling I had in 'The Majestic', 'Bruce Almighty', and especially 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' when I realized that Jim Carrey is actually a really amazingly talented actor. So is Will Ferrell. Incredible. I laughed AND I cried for real. It was as near perfect as they come, in my opinion. There aren't words. Just go see it. Now. What are you still doing reading this, I said go!!!! | | |
| T.J. (April ?, 2001 - September 23, 2006) 
Tonight when I called my parents to tell them of all the fun Meaghan and I had with Wes and Heather on Saturday, I found out that my beloved cat T.J. had passed away under circumstances as mysterious as that of Anna Nicole Smith's son. There was a storm on Saturday in Mena and T.J. did not return home. My nephew Christopher was looking for him on Sunday and found him on his one of paths along the pond, legs and tail straight out behind him, eyes open, and a small sore on the back of his neck. My father says it appeared to be instant and painless. T.J. was ... a cat. And as such, there really aren't too many nice things you can say about him. But he was gorgeous and had the most beautiful blue eyes, the color of swimming pool water. He loved to trick people into feeding him two or even three times every mornind and evening until he grew to a hefty 10 lbs. His favorite thing to do was to viciously attack my mother's calves as she walked by. He loved to sleep in clean laundry and on anything black. His best talent was finding the spot of sunlight that made the tiger stripes in his fur stand out. He could climb halfway up a tree without his claws. He never could figure out what that gray striped snake attached to his butt was. He enjoyed sleeping in boxes three sizes too small and behind my father's knees. He would always curl up behind mine when I lied in the floor to watch a movie. He loved to catch mice and play with them, but he was content to simply watch my pet mice run in their wheel. He liked to play tag with our dogs. He enjoyed eating grass and throwing it up in the middle of the living room. He did not like to have his belly rubbed. He once bit the veterinarian and made him gush blood despite the heavy work glove he was wearing. He was terribly foul tempered, which made it all the more rewarding when he crawled into your lap. He was my best friend during my senior year of high school, the worst year of my life. He was very good at lending a furry shoulder to cry on. I dread going to my parents house for Christmas and not having him there to beg for scraps and innappropriately jump in my lap and eat off my plate. I was taking in quite well until both my parents started to sniffle because they missed him and never knew they would. He was a very good cat. Exactly as a cat should be. A tiger in a human-friendly package. If there is such a place as the Rainbow Bridge where animals wait for this humans, I'm sure he'll let me know he's found me by promptly drawing blood on the back of my leg. Good kitty. "He will kill mice, and he will be kind to babies when he is in the house, just as long as they do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone." Rudyard Kipling | | |
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