This Franchise Absolutely Will Not Stop, Ever, Until You Are Dead

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The Terminator franchise has always seemed a little far-fetched to me. It’s not that I don’t believe that the robots will one day rise up and destroy us, because I’m 100% behind that idea. Only this week did I meet my friend on the train and discover that he had no eye-brows because of a robot, in fact. Apparently he’d been shaving them down when the electric razor had developed a life of its own and decided to take them off completely. The rise of the machines starts now. Imagine what a robot could do with a gun if a simple razor was able to turn my friends head into a giant fucking thumb. My issue with that first film is actually that I just don’t believe in the mission of humanity's saviour, John Connor. Could a soldier lead the resistance and bring down the robots? Maybe. But would he be prepared to send his mate on a mission through time with the primary goal of hooking him up with his Mum? No. And even if he did then that’s not a future that I’d want to live in. Be shot dead by robots or rebuild society in the image of a man whose main agenda was to get his own Mum laid? I think I’ll take being shot in the fucking head if you don’t mind. 

Double Tap Or Double Crap?

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Today I went to the cinema to see Zombieland: Double Tap and I got absolutely fucked by one of my many enemies. You all have casual enemies right? He's this big fucking gonk that checks your tickets before you're allowed into the screening and he's such a fucking jobsworth about it. I have one of those cards that means I can see as many movies as I like and not only does he make me show it to him every single time but he then spends about ten seconds checking my fucking face against it too. This would be fine but I visit so often that I see this prick more than I see my own fucking Mum. It's insulting that he doesn't just recognise me. When he says, “can I see your card?”, I hear “my God your face is fucking bland”. My friend and I swapped cards once and the guy got so confused when checking our faces that I thought he was going to give himself fucking whiplash checking them. Today he was at the counter instead and so I decided to order a cup of tea off him. I think that's what I ordered anyway because what he then gave me looked like a warmed up cup of milk that had been left out in the fucking rain. Had I not seen him make the monstrosity then I'd have assumed that he'd milked the cow directly into the cup and then ran around the other side to catch its fucking tears. It was like he'd only ever heard of how to make a cup of tea in a dream and as the kettle boiled, the memory faded and he'd decided to fucking wing it anyway. Had he wanted to check my face today then he'd have seen me pondering exactly how shite a cup of tea has to be before it becomes a fucking police matter. I don't mean to waffle on about this but if I ever happen to remember this day at all then it won't be because of Zombieland: Double Tap.

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A Couple Of Guys Who Were Up To No Good

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I was talking to a friend in work the other day about the new film Gemini Man when they asked me, “if you had a clone would...”, to which I replied “fuck him? I don't think I'd leave the house we'd be fucking so often”. I'm not gay but if you're having sex with your actual self then I presume that technically just counts as a more advanced form of masturbation, right? “I'd have to hope that the other me is more prepared to be the taker though”, I added. “Well.. he'd be as willing to be the taker as you are considering that you're the same person”, my friend said. This was true and so I played the whole thing out in my head. My clone and I would definitely be okay with tugging each other off to start with and I think that once we'd broken that boundary we'd probably move on to blow-jobs. I honestly can't say that I ever want a dick in my mouth but if it's basically my dick and my clone is willing to do the same to me then I guess it works out? Once we've gone this far though I suspect we'd be at the point of no return and within the week we'd just be bumming each other none stop to the point of starvation. 

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Why So Serious?

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I went to a stand-up club the other day in which people who weren't famous were allowed to jump on stage and try out their new material. One such character was a young man with blacked-out eyes, a beating stick, and a hand-puppet. He said that his name was Lynda. I remember this because he opened with a three-minute song in which the only lyrics were “Lynda's coming out to play” repeated over and over again. He then used the hand-puppet as an excuse to sexually assault one of the men on the front row. If I'm honest it was probably the most terrifying few minutes of my entire fucking life. Not a bad night out though. In many ways, this entire experience is sort of what I think the new Joker film was going for. Both Lynda and the Joker film involve a mentally ill person expressing themselves through comedy as the audience sits on the edge of its seat and watches a psychological fucking breakdown take place. I suppose that the difference is that nobody is suggesting that Lynda might be worthy of any future awards and I'd also be pretty surprised if anybody cited her as an influence in their upcoming fucking shooting spree. 

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