Dealer put your gun away dont make me take your lifeType of mother$%@!er bring an axe to a gun fight
Lochie
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Name: Lochie
Birthday: 1/26/1972
Gender: Male


Occupation: Other
Industry: Other


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Member Since: 3/9/2004

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Sunday, February 06, 2005

You know whats f*cking stupid? People who write the blurb on the back of a DVD and dont even get the f*cker right. Case in point: I went to Blockbuster and got a movie called "Buy and Cell" by the creators of Police Academy, and it had Michael Winslow in it (Google it if you dont know, cause for sure you do).

This is the blurb on the back.

"Ambitious, young stockbroker Sandy Burger is on his way up the ladder of success. Suddenly, his life is shattered when his boss, Lou Dauger, has him framed for stock fraud.

In Lewiston Correctional Facility, Sandy immediately angers head guard Palmer, then Warden Broderick Stone, who assails him. Only the chance entrance of Assistant Warden Anne Conners saves Sandy from injury. Sandy sooon after incurs the wrath of his cellmate, Sly Johnson, in addition to the prison's violent inmate, El Coyote. Sly owes Coyote money, and is threatened with his life unless he pays. Sandy offers to get Sly the money by investing in the stock market. To do this, he needs access to a computer, which Wang, another inmate provides.

Sandy establishes a phony corporate account - Con, Inc., - with his old firm and soon has the needed $300. Sandy is quickly everyone's best friend, except Coyote and his thugs.

Sandy invests the inmates' money so successfully that he soon has made enough to buy a shopping mall and a bank.

Meanwhile, Lou becomes suspicious of Con, Inc., and decides to investigate.

Sandy sees that it will be too difficult to maintain Con, Inc., so he devises a way to trick Lou into buying the company for Cash. He must first get the prisoners out of the prison.

The elaborate ruse works, and Lou agrees to pay $10 million. The daring plan is nearly ruined however, when Coyote steals part of the money"

Bare with me here folks, there is a point to this.

First off, who the fuck writes the entire story on the back of the DVD case? If I wanted to know what the hell happens throughout the whole thing, I'll watch it. If I wanted to read what the hell happens, make a goddamn book. (Note: Please stop here if you ever plan to watch this stupid shit of a movie. If you dont, feel free to continue. I'd advise you to continue, the movie isnt worth it)

That however, is not the main reason for this post and the stupidity of the DVD. The stickler for me, besides being told the whole damn story, is that the blurb is wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

I'll say it again - wrong. They managed to screw up almost every single name in the movie. The guy sent to jail was Herbert someone, not Sandy. Sly's name is Sly, the Wardens name isn't Broderick Stone, and to top that, he never lays a finger on Herbie, so how the hell does he assail him. The "Assistant Warden" is actually a prison psychologist, and I forget her name, because by this time in the movie I was too busy thinking up things I should be doing instead of watching this movie. As for the evil El Coyote - there is no such person in the movie. In fact, no-one even steals money from Herbert at all. As for our (whom I assume is) asian friend Wang, he doesn't exist either. There's no mention of anyone owing $300 to anyone in the movie, and the prison price is $12 million. As for the shopping mall and bank, there's no mention of them in the movie either.

I'm beginning to wonder who the bigger retard is - the person who wrote the blurb, or me for actually watching the whole movie.


Monday, August 30, 2004

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Thanks goes to choff.

I was just on his site and did the quiz about "What country am I?" and look at the results.


You're Ireland!
Mystical and rain-soaked, you remain mysterious to many people, and this makes you intriguing.  You also like a good night at the pub, though many are just as worried that you will blow up the pub as drink your beverage of choice.  You're good with words, remarkably lucky, and know and enjoy at least fifteen ways of eating a potato.  You really don't like snakes.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Eerie.


Monday, July 26, 2004

Yeah yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to a recap, but damnit, I was shitty and in Tokyo. You know what they say - it doesnt count if you are in a different country. If you are over here, chances are you have already read Matt's recap of things, so I'm gonna just add my spin on a few things - just so you can keep updated, fo sho.

First off, let me just say that travelling with Matt was fucking awesome (if the word fucking offended you just then, fuck off). If Japanese fighter pilots in World War II had wingmen like that on tour, they would never have needed to go kamikaze. Many props to the man for having my back on that tour, and life with Matt was easy.

Go to Amsterdam. If I could offer you some advice, it would be that. Fuck sunscreen and fuck that song. Going to the red light district there will distort your definition of window shopping for the rest of your life. And don't even start me on bananas. However, if someone tries to rope you into going to the Van Gogh museum, run away. Find yourself a cafe and spend your money on some of Amsterdams finest instead. Much better way to pass time.

Drinking is a wonderful past time. I guess I started to take it a bit far when I could barely talk with sickness but I was still shooting absinthe and drinking beer. Of the 16 nights on tour I was off my face for fourteen of them. Our time in Lyon hardly counts, because I fell asleep in the hotel room and pretty much woke up the next morning when we were leaving for Paris. Children, take heed, absinthe will snap you. Badly. However, I thank God for my breeding, which pretty much ensures that I rarely wake up with a hangover. Not one when on tour, which I think is a pretty damn good strike rate. Speaking of drinking, one of the most enjoyable drinking nights was in Austria. Schnapps will give the liver a good run, thats for sure.

Our tour would not have been as good if we didn't have the extremely good mob of people we did. Sure some people were flaming nutjobs, but pretty much everyone got along with everyone. When I didn't, I usually pulled faces at them and stuffed things in my ears to stop hearing their voice, like the mature young adult I am. Sure, at times everyone drove me crazy (with the exceptions of Matt, the blokes from Perth, the ladies from Peakhurst and the senoritas we met), but I probably did the same to them too.

Food was crazy too, I ate kebabs in every country almost, and they were all so different that you can't believe you are eating something with the same name and such a different description. Italian pizza and gelato kicked the shit out of anything we have here, it was absolutely hectic.


I would now like to write an ode to Matt's cheapness through Europe. Not only did he run away from the people in Europe who collect a 20 cent fee for using their facilities, he managed to eat everything that everyone else didn't manage to fit in. However, the pinnacle of his cheapness was when he pretended he was a Japanese tourist in France so that he could get a nicer breakfast (even though he hates getting caught up with people mistaking him for a Jap tourist). Props to Matt for that - here is a picture in his pimping finest.



As a side note, I now answer to the name Lucky as well as Lochie. Turns out Lochie is an unpronouncable name to some foreigners (and some kiwis too) and Lucky was what I got labelled with. Lucky Charms was a natural progression from that, so I copped that moniker too. Its all good, I guess I am lucky and charming, so its somewhat truthful.


Anyway, more as I remember it.


Sunday, July 25, 2004

Narita airport. Land of no ATMs and free internet. Hour six of my nine hour layover. Keyboards with weird buttons that you press when typing and then all of your text gets turned into Japanese. The last 23 days have been crazy, but there is no sense in typing out everything that happened, if purely to save my own ass from incrimination. You want to know, you know the number. Or someone who knows the number. Or someone who knows someone who knows someone who robbed someone who knows the number.

 

Matts copped out and has pissed off to go sleep on the airport couches. Reckons he is so sick that they will need to quarantine him back home. Also previously walked around with a gay trolley with his hand luggage purely because he is a lazy fuck who wont carry his own shit around. It was classy, he looked straight out of oxford street.

 

anyway, tired.

 

 

 

 

 

mama im coming home.


Tuesday, July 06, 2004

So we are walking down the streets of Amsterdam, and then Matt says "No, Nothing beats sucking a horses cock".

 

Ask him about it.

 

 



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