Movie Magic: Nostalgic Callbacks (Ongoing List)

Everybody loves nostalgia. You can’t hate it. You have to like it by definition of the word. If you don’t like it, then you’re not experiencing nostalgia; you’re just remembering a crappy memory. Movies aren’t very long long so it’s pretty amazing when they can make us feel nostalgic during the movie for something that happened an hour ago. We feel nostalgic about the movie before it’s even over.

I noticed a common way that movies do that and I call it nostalgic callbacks. Early on in the movie, a character would say something idiotic or make up a crazy web of lies for comedic effect. This first event has to be out of the ordinary so that it’s memorable because crazy things are easier to remember than normal things. Near the end of the movie, they bring this idea back but this time, you actually see it happening instead of just hearing the characters talk about it. When done right, it’s delivers a more immersive experience because you feel like you’re in on an inside joke.

Just for fun, I will begin compiling a list of movies that use nostalgic callbacks effectively. I’m going to start the list small, with just the movies I watched today. When you recognize the movie, I’m sure you would feel nostalgic about it again. It’s a gift that keeps on giving. You can help me fill out this list too!

(I wish it was needless to say that there’s going to be spoilers but spoiler alerts are always needed to be said.)

…I started summarizing the movies and the nostalgic callbacks but that was too much work and boring to read. So I’ll just be listing the movies and the keywords in the nostalgic callbacks. That should suffice.

The Green Hornet

Nun-chucks and ejection seats.

Nun-chucks and ejection seats.

Madagascar 3

Madagascar 3

Trapeze Americano, aquatic cobras, jetpacks, balloons.

Ice Age

Ice Age

Peek-a-boo.

Madagascar 2

Madagascar 2

Dancing out of trouble?

I’m grasping at straws here. I’m not very good at making this list, but maybe you guys can do a better job.

Ice Age 3

Peaches.

Peaches.

Ass Scab Scars

When you pull scabs off prematurely, it leaves a scar. I call those scab scars and I’ve got ass scab scars.

Huh? Ass cab what?

Huh? Ass cab what?

A few months back, I remember lying in bed and feeling a little bump on my ass. I scratched it to see what it was. I think it maybe have started off as a pimple or something but I kept scratching it off and eventually I was scratching off scabs. I had thought that I was scratching the same spot but a few days ago, when I accidentally saw my naked ass in the mirror, I saw those ass scab scars, and there were 3 of them.

There are three of us and you have three of what?

There are three of us and you have three of what?

How does one accidentally see one’s own naked ass you ask? Prepared to be enlightened. I recently tried masturbating with moisturizer for the first time. Because this is new to me, I haven’t found a way to streamline the procedure yet. With plain old masturbation, I know my exact specifications but I still need more practice with moisturizer to perfect it.

I'm not accidentally seeing no ass in the mirror right now. ...I don't need to make sense, I'm hot.

I’m not accidentally seeing no ass in the mirror right now. …I don’t need to make sense, I’m hot.

In the first draft of this entry, this is where I started describing my experience losing my moisturizer virginity. I felt that it went too far off track so suffice to say my dick is moister than it’s ever been. Bringing this back on track, I didn’t know what to expect and wanted to keep my clothes clean so I ended up wandering nude around the house more than usual. It was then that I passed a mirror and saw my ass scab scars.

I looked kinda like this except I was more nude, had 3 ass scab scars, and a dick dangling out the front.

I looked kinda like this except I was more nude, had 3 ass scab scars, and a dick dangling out the front.

What was the point of this entry again? I don’t think I ever had one. I just wanted to say ass scab scars because it sounds funny.

Is that all you've got to say for yourself Ted? I'm going back to playing with my pussy. Too bad you can't see it with the cat blocking the view.

Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself Ted? I’m going back to playing with my pussy. Too bad you can’t see it with the cat blocking the view.

Bored With Words

I got bored and decided to play a word game with myself. The goal is to use homophones and homonyms and whatever homo shit to form the most retarded phrases I can imagine while maintaining grammatical correctness.

Q: Cue the queue.

A: Okay, the cameras are rolling so you should tell the background actors to get in line.

Q: Unflatten my flat flat.

A: You should fix your home to make it livelier. Give it more depth, more dimension.

Q: Plant the plain plane on the plain.

A: You can’t find any airports or roads so you have to land your ordinary air-bus on a grassy field.

Q: Gay gay

A: What do you call a happy person who has a life partner.

Q: Chipped Chip chip

A: A damaged gambling currency made from potatoes.

Q: Crispy crisp

A: What do you call crunchy potatoe chips.

Q: Faggot faggot

A: Cigarettes made for homosexuals.

Q: Fake it, faggot.

A: Telling a gay person to pretend to be straight.

Q: There there, they’re there.

A: What do you say to comfort someone who is worried about people not arriving at the designated area.

Q: Man, man the manhole. Amen.

A: You give a tired prayer in hopes that they fix the sewer.

Q: Ho ho ho. Hoe’s hoes and hose.

A: The name of a shop that sells gardening and farming tools and the owner happens to be a prostitute. And say it in Santa Claus’ voice.

Q: Three free Friezas.

A: A chinese person advertising giveaways of a dragonball character.

Q: The pit’s a pizza.

A: You explain that you marked on the map the location of the hole with an Italian pie.

Q: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.

A: I ran out of orginal ideas and decided to become a fuckin’ copycat.

I call this game Homophrase. See if you can come up with more.

Shit Stories Part IV

Have you ever played a lot of tennis or badminton or anything else that exhausts your forearms? It’s always amazing how simple actions become harder with tired forearms. I once discovered that after playing hours of badminton, sticking up my middle finger became impossible. Who would’ve thought? And amongst these difficult tasks is wiping your ass. If you keep up with my blog or know me in real life, you would know that I’ve spent the past few months being unemployed and worthless. I do nothing with life and don’t even exercise. But one day, all of a sudden, wiping my ass was as difficult as if I had exercised. I coined a term with my friends where I label my (lack of) actions as next level laziness. I hope that my next level laziness doesn’t make me stop wiping. That would be beyond next level laziness. And even beyond that would be not even bothering to shit in a toilet. Hopefully, I can maintain two levels away from voluntarily shitting my pants.

I play tennis all day and I can still reach my ass.

I play tennis all day and I can still reach my ass.

I have a few theories on why I might have had a difficult time wiping my ass:

Theory A

Maybe I’ve been eating and shitting so much that the repetition of having to wipe has become an exercise.

Theory B

Maybe I jerked off too much. This theory applies because jerking off exercises foremans; not to be mistaken that there’s any relationship between my masturbating and my asshole.

Theory C

Maybe my body just decided to disintegrate and I’m reaching a point in life where I can’t even wipe my own ass or jerk myself off.

You call those theories?

You call those theories?

I try to have more than one story for each of my blog entries and keeping right on track, I have a second shit story. That’s right, I didn’t write that last story for a few days because I was saving up for a second story, not because I’m a lazy shithead who doesn’t work and can’t even keep up a blog. I’m wrapping up the second story right now and it turns out that both these stories are lengthy enough to be their own entries so I’ll publish them separately. If you love these shit stories, buckle down because the next story will be coming up in a few minutes if it isn’t out already.

I can't wait.

I can’t wait.

Asking Girls In

First off, I’d like to say that life is getting really shitty once again. In between the time I turned on the computer to write this blog and actually writing it, my mom woke up from bed just to nag me about some bullshit again. I don’t want to go too far into it but just saying bullshit makes me sound like the bad guy so I’ll describe the boring situation a bit. Basically, the bank and the government made some dumbass errors and they keep saying I’m not paying enough taxes for having too much money in the bank but I don’t actually have that money because it’s a fuckin’ error. I’ve already filed all the correctional paperwork and all I can do now is just wait for the slowass government to fix it over 6 months. In the meantime, they continue to automatically send me more letters saying I owe them more and more money. Then, my mom also flips out and fuckin’ nags me about the problem. I’m getting pincer harassed by a flawed and slow government system and my retard mom. That’s all I’ll say on that subject because saying fuck and calling my mom a retard can’t sustain a false sense of interest in this subject much longer.

People normally feel a roller coaster of emotions but I just feel a roller coaster of depression. There are kind of ups and downs. The ups are just comparatively less shitty, but it’s still shit. It’s like the difference between stepping on dog shit or falling face first into it or having a piece of shit coming half way out of my asshole when a spider scares the shit out of me (not literally because the shit is still half way out/in my asshole) and while trying to run away from a spider with my pants around my ankle, I trip and get my own shit all over myself. Yes, that was awfully specific but no, it did not happen. That’s just a product of my fucked up imagination..

Moving on from shit talk, some of you might be wondering what the fuck is with the title? I seem to always coin phrases that makes me sound like I don’t understand the English language. I know it’s normally asking girls out but this topic is about asking girls in. As a cheapass fucked up person living in my parents’ house, dating sounds horrible: spending money to go out, spending money on dinner or movie or other activities. Not only does it pain me to spend money, I don’t even enjoy the out-of-home activities so why would I want to pay for something I don’t enjoy? I’ve worked out a theoretical ideal date where we would just cuddle on a couch and watch tv, movie, or play video games. That is a great date for me… in theory…

Normally, there’s only the two states of theory and practice but I’m about to invent an additional state in between. I theorize that in practice, I won’t actually enjoy the act of cuddling because people (myself included) get warm and sweaty and moist. This new state, the theory of practice, I shall call meta-theory. Even before practice, I’m already convincing myself that I won’t enjoy the company of other people. No wonder I haven’t asked a girl out in years and will be alone forever. Almost a year ago today, the last time I was kind of interested in a girl, I actually asked the girl out on a hypothetical date and she even agreed but I never went on to make an actual date. When I describe my actions, I always sound like a total dick.