A Message of Hope to Those With Bulimia

I've been reading this book about a girl who died from bulimia. It’s called Andrea’s Voice. At first I kind of felt bad but the more I read, the more pissed I get. I just have no tolerance for people with eating disorders. Man, put your life into perspective. When I think of the homeless kids all over the world who would literally give their arm to have the meal you just threw up, I want to smash every little bulimic bitch's head against a toilet. You're an asshole! Maybe that’s why people don't like you and not because you don’t look like a rail. And maybe if you spent less time with your finger down your throat and more time being an appreciative socially acceptable human, you would have the unconditional love you think you're going to win by not eating. I don’t think they should have therapy for eating disorders, but a foreign exchange program. Every jackass diagnosed with an eating disorder trades places with someone in Africa for month. Maybe they would come back with something valuable, like AIDS. Because the way I see it, there’s nothing like a terminal illness to make you see that you're not disordered; you're just an idiot. 

Little Miss Sunshine: Comedy? I think not.

I saw Little Miss Sunshine today. *As always the following may or may not contain spoilers.* I don’t want to say it’s a bad movie. It’s just that I personally hated it. I've never seen a more depressing movie in my life. Yes, it beats Requiem. Everything about it was depressing. Even the music. And it wasn’t even all that funny. I get the concept of dark humor and all but damn. It’s hard to laugh at anything after every ounce of happiness has been sucked out of you. Seeing Steve Carell be serious makes my soul die a little bit. Maybe it’s because I hadn’t cried in a while and I had pent up emotion or something. But what the fuck? I’ve never wanted to commit suicide so badly. There’s a fine line between funny series of unfortunate events and seeing an already pathetic group of people experience tragedy after tragedy...after tragedy. Aside from the fact that it made me die inside, there’s also no way you can make me believe that a cop can be distracted enough by porn to overlook the dead body in the trunk. In general, I hate movies about quirky off-beat characters. Napoleon Dynamite, Little Miss Sunshine, Garden State, Running With Scissors. I don’t buy that kind of crap. I need a plot, not just weird people. An entire cast of Oscar winners does not a good movie make. Not to mention that more often than not, when those stupid indie movies attempt to be deep, they just come off as pretentious and ridiculous. An artsy jumble of scenes drowning in its own shallow pool of pseudo-meaning.

The one good thing about this movie is that it was trying to be cleverly and darkly comedic as opposed to the other comedies that people enjoy these days, like Borat. I really fucking hate Borat and all the stupid catch phrases he’s spawned. This is one of those things, like Napoleon Dynamite, that I choose to believe people like because it’s trendy, not because they actually find it funny. That helps me sleep at night. Because although that’s equally unacceptable, I refuse to accept that people's sense of humor is THAT bad. And of course, as if Borat himself wasn’t unfunny enough, in come the pathetic losers who spend every waking minute quoting him. These are the douchebags that have never had a single original thought in their head and the extent of their wit comes from Dane Cook’s standup and Will Ferrell movies. Congratulations, you have mastered the art of repeating words. Kill yourself.