...Sunbeams Ain't Nothin' Like Me.

So I'm reading Episode 3 right now.
It makes enough of the movie so far better, but movies shouldn't rely on things written in books by the same name to make them good.
Movies should stand alone, or at least be good to begin with, and have the novel make them better. Such is not the case with anything George Lucas has been a part of, unless Spielberg is in on it with him.
I watched Red Dawn last night with Charlie Sheen and Patrick Swayze. Not a bad movie. It put me in the mindset to play Freedom Fighters again, which, by the way, is a GREAT game...
and to start writing the resistance(the latter half of the second book).
Not gonna happen though, not until this one is finished.
Hopefully, I'll be able to get into the second book before I release first one, adding in a few loose ends for the other two as I go along.

I have decided to get a Journalism Degree, and be done with college for a while. Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing, and perhaps communications, but here's a funny story about the communications school at UK.
I was affiliated with a fraternity for two semesters.
One semester, I was in charge of taking down a tent for a lady and her family for service hours. We had set the tent up with no problems, gotten drunk and gone away. I called two of my Pledge brothers to come back and help me take down the tent and load up the stuff. They told me they would be there in a few minutes.
Ten minutes go by, and I say fuckit, I might be able to get all this shit in my car after all...
and I take down the tent and the tables and the coolers and whatnot. With a little creative seat management, It all fits.
I'm driving away when my two pledge brothers run out in front of my car needing help.
Quickly I jump out to find that they have taken down the wrong tent.
By the way, we are all stone sober at this point.
Two horse cops, Two bike cops, and two stadium cops are there, listening to my pledge brother's account of what's happened, while the owner of the tent, a middle-aged short woman, is throwing a shitstorm.
"I'm a college professor, I don't have to deal with these hooligans trying to steal my tent!"
I explain to the police that this is all a misunderstanding, I have the correct tent in my car, and we'll set their tent back up for them.
The officers are like, it's fine, we see you have this under control, sorry for the mix-up, we'll take care of the rest.
The next semester, I stride into Com 201, interpersonal relations, and sit down.
A few minutes later, in walks the middle aged woman from the tent fiasco.
I can only stand to hear this woman talk for a few moments before she asks us if we have any questions.
I stand up and say, "Have you had any more fits with people taking down the wrong tents at tailgating?"
"I thought I recognized you..."
She goads me into a duel, saying would you like to tell the whole class about this?"
he, he, he. She doesn't know me, she thinks Ill back down.
"Last semester I pledged ATO. Yadda yadda yadda, My pledge brothers had accidentally taken down Professor (whatshername's) tent. She proceeds to throw a fit to the police, sure that they are intent on stealing her tent. It took me fifteen minutes to calm her down to the point where she realized it was a mistake, and it took the police another ten to calm her into not pressing charges. How's that for Interpersonal Communications?"
I then proceeded to walk out.
The next class period, I walk by the room, because I have already changed my schedule, and see she has maybe five people left in the class, out of forty original.
Tenure only works if people take your classes, bitch.
So today's moral is...
Mind your Interpersonal Relationships if you expect your authority to stick when you try to teach.

I'm sorry, that may have been the wrong thing to do, but I get my jollies out of poking my finger in the eye of authority, especially if I have dirt on them.

Kinda like the time my mom yelled at me for quoting something from Star Wars, saying, and I quote, "Why don't you fucking quote Franklin sometime instead of this bullshit you pick up in Kid's novels?"
To which I reply, on the fly, "Profanity is the result of a weak mind trying to express itself forcibly... Benjamin Franklin."
It was PRICELESS. I don't think I could write a better set up without making it sound trite and fake.
She did, however get red in the face and say, walking away, "That's my son."
It was one of those moments in time, when all things lead to a head. Remembering the only Franklin quote I know, having her specifically ask for Franklin, and Cursing in the process.
*shivers.
ADD at it's BEST!!

Or even better, the time she had me sitting on the bed lecturing me very, umm, violently, and asked me "Who do you think you are, talking to me that way?"
and in my traitor's mind the only thought coursing through my head was, shit, I could have said it then.
and to my ultimate surprise and glee, she continues the sentence, TV static snow coursing through her eyes(just an impression I got then, don't ask), with "Who do you think you ARE?"
I strike a pose, sitting there on the bed, looking at "danger" over her shoulder and say, "I'm BATMAN!"
She was speechless for a full 30 seconds, which, to anyone who knows my mom, is an interminably LONG time, then slaps the SHIT out of me.
But, like every beating I ever got from my parents, I knew I deserved it, and knew that it was WELL worth it.

"I'm sorry, there's a lot of things going on in my life and they all culminated when your leg fell off."
-Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigalo