Spring Cleaning

The following are things I've meant to write about, but as spring is now upon is, and I haven't done jack squat and the ideas have kind of stagnated, I think I'll let them go (at least, until winter comes and I'm bored and depressed).
1) When I was a kid, I saw a snuff film on the internet, that in retrospect, was clearly staged. This still has haunted me for years, until I realized how incredibly fake it was. I was going to tie this into the movies we used to gawk at for being so realistic, that are now just cheesy to watch (hello, all of Arnold Shwarzenegger's 1980s oeuvre).
2) I used to have (and occasionally still do) recurring nightmares which resembled the plot of 28 Days Later. Obviously, this means I'm completely psychotic.
3) Another effort at explaining just how much I loathe 95% of Indie Rock, especially The Fucking Arcade Fire. I will revisit this again in the future, I promise.
I really, really hate them.
4) Gigantism: God's way of telling us bigger isn't always better.
5) My forbidden love for Avril Lavigne: sure, she's awful, and annoying and married to a troll, but oh man, the things I'd do to her. This would be tied into the idea that any women with a guitar is automatically sexy, with 2 notable exceptions: Melissa Etheridge and for some, Juliette Lewis, who was much sexier when she was killing a lot of people in Natural Born Killers.
6) Gary Coleman: why?
7) Screech: Ditto
8) That douche who used to be on Saved by the Bell and now hosts the former bass player for Journey's Dance Like You Have Epilepsy Crew. Mario Lopez, there we go. I can't even ask why, because it's obvious there is no good reason for him to exist.
9) I got a guitar magazine with Steve Vai on the cover, which led me to ask: how does a guy who is so good at something cool make that something seem so uncool?
10) Is Dane Cook Unspeakably awesome or awesomely unspeakable? Hint: it's the latter.


Well, now that those are out of the way, I'm hoping to get a bit more positive now that spring is a-comin. I'm looking forward to writing about why the Habs broke my heart (or made my heart soar, if they stop sucking balls), questioning if there is a pair of shorts in existence that can solve the eternal 'permanent erection due to Montreal women wearing nothing but mini-skirts for 3 straight months' issue, and of course, moaning endlessly about how people today spend too much time on the internet, very little of which is spent reading this blog.