If you were smart you would already know allllll about Hella Chella's balls-to-the-wall awesome SockZombie 2011 Giveaway.
If you don't, that obviously means you are dumb. Tough break champ.
Well here's the deal, she bakes. And she's usually pretty good about it.
But she also drinks occasionally.
Step 1 + Step 2 usually results in Ugly Bread.
"Haaay! Oh-I mean...Yaaarg! Or whatever."
So to win the wonderfully fantastical Rhoda I have to make my own ugly bread.
So the F-bomb and I got to work...the last evening possible to enter the contest. In fact, she said "Saturday at the latest" and there is less than 2 hours before Sunday...in fact, I think it technically is Sunday where she lives.
Whatever.
This better effin' count Michelle!
LET'S FRIGGIN DO THIS THING:
Yeast. Yeah, that's right. Also Sugar.
Now you're probably confused...just wait...
Oh...Uhh.This is unrelated.
Carry on.
Ugly bread right? YOU HAVEN'T SEEN ANYTHING YET.
Muhu--muuhuuuahahahahahaha!
It's Alive!! That's right, I made a BREAD ZOMBIE!!
Ladies and Gentlemen....Zombie Brad P. Loafington the 3rd, Esquire.
Straight Chillin'.
The most delicious role reversal ever.
Right. So that's it.
Now I just wait and dream of Rhoda.
Also...funny story, I felt super proud of myself coming up with this idea, I was all "Oh it's sooo funny, Bread Zombie - Sock Zombie, GET IT??"
However, what I did not think of was checking on the existing entries to the competition. Because I'm not smart, apparently.
Yeah, Alli over at littlebitpsycho already made an awesome bread baby, very much in the same vain as my project. She did a damn fine job too, so now I just look like an asshole.
Hey peeps.
What up?
Rhetorical question, I don't really care.
Anywho.
I've been slacking real real bad. I was supposed to keep you all kinds of updated on my weight loss venture. So, commence first update, roughly 3 weeks late.
Insanity started Jan 3. with my initial inputs being: Weight - 198 BMI - 30.1
Body Fat % - 30.1
There was also fitness test results, that are boring and I'm not going to repeat here. Also, posted some before pictures on Tumblr. Shield your eyes.
On the 17th I had another fit test and was down to 193.4.
I did good on the fit test, improved at least 20% on all my moves, some as much as 100%.
However, things started going a little down hill. I've been having trouble keeping up with Insanity. Don't get me wrong, I've been eating way healthier, following the nutrition guide very closely. I'm just not used to working out so much and it's been hard to do Insanity 6 days a week. So yeah, I've missed some days.
Second confession: Drinking and Insanity don't go well together. Obviously. Had a friends birthday, and then the Superbowl. The Superbowl was actually the day before I was supposed to do my most recent fit test...so that was bad. I ended up still doing it a day late and I didn't perform well. I Did the first 4/8 and improved, the 5th I reached the same, and then sort of collapsed...and then puked a little. For real.
So I didn't finish the other three moves, because it was at least 15 or so minutes before I was capable of doing so and so those numbers wouldn't be accurate. I'm supposed to only have 1 minute in between. I threw it down as a DNF and felt terrible.
At this point I decided that I'm not drinking again until Insanity is over. The other numbers aren't so bad: Weight after 34 days - 188.8 BMI 28.7
Body Fat % 30.8 (This is higher. We are using some calculator thing online, but the F-bomb says that the accurate way to do it is with some machine or something. So I'm not concerning myself with it too much.)
So I'm down. Which is good. Here are the before/afters that my graphic designer (F-bomb) put together for comparison. I'll post all of them on Tumblr if you're some sort of pervert that's into that kind of thing.
Obviously I've still got a long way to go. But at least under your watchful eyes I will feel horribly ashamed whenever I slip up.
First, I'd like to mention that I don't refer to you as unfaithful in terms of being a blogite. I actually encourage you to read other peoples blogs because they are usually better than mine. It just means I assume you are all getting around. You know, throwing your "Hey Nana's" all over town (I get all my vagina euphemisms from Rihanna). Not the boys though, they are just extra cool for getting the sex. Double standards are fun!
Ok, on to the point; some of you that have been around for awhile may remember me deciding to try and lose a little weight last spring. I did a pretty good job, I managed to lose roughly 14 pounds in a couple months. Got myself down to 181. Then....I promptly fell apart. So badly apart that less than a year later (that's now!) I am at 198.
Yeah.
I'm my hero too.
Hold the applause.
However, the beginning of the new year and my impending nuptials have encouraged me to once again stop being such a fat mess. To aid me in this venture my step-brother, who I assume is always right because he's a fucking lawyer, has suggested I partake in a workout program called Insanity. Which yes, is truly insane. I'm also following the nutrition guide. Apparently diet and exercise go together. Who knew?
I started the program on Monday, prior to the initial Fit Test I took some before photos.
Don't worry, I won't force my shirtless body upon you.
But if you really want to see what I'm starting with check out my Tumblr.
That paleness is all natural by the way.
I'm going to put my initial measurements and the results of my fit test in here, for the few people that might be interested in seeing them.
Move
Switch Kicks 72
Power Jacks 30
Power Knees 42
Power Jumps 10
Globe Jumps 3
Suicide Jumps 10
Push-up Jacks 9
Low Plank Obliques 9
That was as of Monday prior to the fit test, tomorrow morning I will post my weight. There is also a fit test every two weeks, so I will post those results to see if there is any improvement. I figure after the first month I will take more photos, see if there is any difference.
I know what you're thinking:
"Why am I on this stupid website again? Every time I try to go to Facebook I end up here! I think something is wrong with my computer."
Oh there's nothing wrong my darlings, I've just hired a little outside help to hack your computers to my benefit.
Luckily, Nino works for pie.
Right after that thought though, your next thought was more than likely:
"Huh, that seems a rather un-festive blog title Ryan. It just...it's not very fun. MAKE IT FESTIVE RYAN."
In my defence the original title was "You're all going to hate me because I'm not down with Christmas in the crazy-over-the-top-best-thing-ever-stop-talking-about-anything-but-christmas-for-two-months sort of way."
I think this one rolls off the tongue a bit easier. (Side note: Say tongue. Then write/type tongue. Then double check it to make sure it is spelled right. Then realize it's sort of a creepy word...Moist Tongue. Ughh. Ok, I'm done.)
Yeah. Christmas. Pffft.
Now, a lot of you out there are like "OOOhhhh my god Ryan. How dare you!" My F-bomb included. However, if I were to say, Ramadan...Pffft.
A lot of you would have nothing to say. You know who would have something to say? Muslims. It's kind of a big deal for them.
You say "Oh, ok, this makes sense. It's part of their religion so they would care."
Absolutely, good point imaginary reader.
My counter-point:
Then why the hell do you care about Christmas so damn much?
For a good majority of you out there Christmas is not part of your religion, or you don't have a religion, or you "have" a religion. Meaning you say that you are "Insert-relgious-denomination" and thus have to "Arbitrary Tradition" or must not "Arbitrary Rule", and yet don't go to any sort of church, don't follow all of the arbitrary rules and traditions, and probably don't really know that much about it.
But you know what guys? Totally fine.
Totally. I am in no way offended by any of those actions. Do your thing, it's cool.
BUT LET ME DO MINE.
Seriously. Fuck off.
I'm allowed to not go apeshit over Christmas.
I'm FOR SURE allowed to hate annoying Christmas songs.
This doesn't make me a "Grouch" or a "Grinch" or a "Grunt" (That's cunt, but with a G, because apparently all Christmas haters start with Gr's).
I don't tell the F-bomb and the future Mother-in-Law to STOP loving Christmas, so how come I have to START loving it?
I'm not being a jerk, I'm not actively trying to ruin anyone's Christmas. I'm not some kind of monster.
Well...I'm not a monster to you people.
Some would say otherwise.
"I feel like some one is watching me. Also, it smells like farts all of a sudden."
Uhh. Anyways.
I'm not all jazzed up about Christmas, and this shouldn't be a big deal for you.
As stated earlier, it is primarily a religious holiday. I don't have one of those, so I'm out.
"Oh but Ryan," says the imaginary reader who hasn't learned to shut the fuck up yet, "It's not just a religious thing anymore. Many people from many different cultures now celebrate and take part in traditional Christmas festivities!"
So what?
Over 12 million people play World of Warcraft, and some of them follow it religiously.
That doesn't mean I can get pissed at you for not playing and demand we do this once yearly:
Oh, and a fat guy coming down your chimney is totally reasonable?
All I'm saying is, you like what you like, I'll like what I like. If they happen to overlap, great, we can enjoy them together.
But you can't be pissed that I don't shit my pants over the prospect of listening to the same 19 songs on a loop for two months straight in every store I go into.
P.S.- Both my F-bomb and the M-Law are very lovely, great ladies. I very much admire there passion for certain holidays, and expect that one day my kids will have a blast doing all the Christmas stuff with them. It still doesn't change my opinion. Don't be mad at me ladies.
Seeing as I'm sure you are all faithful readers that never miss an entirely random and extremely sparse blog post (they're also full of spelling mistakes!) you probably already heard about this fucking guy. If not, go read it. No really. I'll wait.
...
...
*Cough*
...
...
...
*Sip water*
...
...
...
*Really-disgusting-sounding-and-not-at-all-hilarious-flatulence*
...
Oh Hey. You're back.
What smell?
Anyways, that guy is a little ridiculous in that last story, but today he really kicked it up a notch.
In my MSYS class today we were doing presentations, quick back story on the presentation:
We are consulting for a resort, their goal is to make a more stress free, relaxing environment. Currently they have a pass-key system on a necklace that you use to identify yourself and get into your room. They want to make it easier.
The whole point of this project was to come up with a design implementing technology that remove stress points.
The resort doesn't want anyone to have their wallet, cell phone, etc. on them. They don't want them to have to worry about having their credit card when they need something, or losing a room key.
Got it?
Good.
So this guys group goes, and yeah, they did a totally fine job. Who the hell am I to say they aren't going to get a good grade.
Oh right, that's what I do here, I judge people.
They had a system that requires a fancy machine to take a 3D image of your hand.
"Oh cool" you might say "Like fingerprints, so we can just scan our hands."
Yeah...except after you scan your hand you need to punch in a pin code.
"Well...but you still don't have to carry anything around...right?"
Wrong, they stayed with a proximity card room key.
So, as far as I can tell this has essentially added a stress in having to remember a pin, plus the cost of crazy hand imagers, and you still have to carry a key card around.
I wasn't trying to be rude, because honestly, how much do I care about another groups work (The answer; not very fucking much), but I did ask a question about the pin.
It seemed like a bit of a hassle to me to have this pin to have to remember, and I thought, well if someone forgot it and had to go through the proper channels to get a new one, I'm sure that would not be relaxing.
So I asked "If I'm out and get a little too drunk and forgot my pin, what then?"
Seems kind of reasonable I thought.
Reply from Captain McDouchery:
"Just go to the help desk. Haven't you ever been to a resort before?"
Except, when you hear those words picture them coming out of this face,
"I AM A MAN. I HAVE A BEARD...ISH THING."
Great, now you probably heard those words in your head they way they were said: Rudely.
Also, for your information, no. I have not been to a resort before. Woe is me.
Whatever. This didn't bother me too bad...if I went crazy every time someone was a dick I wouldn't make it very far in life.
He didn't leave it there however, our group went later, and even though I'm sure we are going to get quite near the same grade as the other group, we took a different route.
Our design implements a series of user friendly touch screens, and RFID bracelets.
These RFID tagged bracelets do everything; swipe them to pay, swipe them to rent a tennis racket, swipe them to get into your room. It's just a little rubber bracelet, like one of those "Live-Strong" bracelets.
So, after we present, we open it up for questions.
Guess who puts his hand up first?
"Yeah...what if I get too drunk...and then break the touch screen. What then?" Despite the fact that he was clearly being a dick, I attempt to reply, but he and his friend had already begun laughing. So, I continued to another question, a slightly more reasonable one about any possible health risks related to RFID. No joke, in the middle of answering this question another student had asked, Admiral Cunt-face interrupts with "just answer his question already." I had just begun answering it, honestly, maybe 15 seconds in. At this point I know I am a little agitated, and the rest of my group appears to be so also, so I attempt to wrap it up, but again the guy starts talking "The wristbands aren't helpful, what If I don't have arms? Then what?" (Keep in mind, his group had a 3D hand scanner) I let him know that the RFID tags are versatile and can be placed wherever is most convenient.
You'd think he'd be done.
"How are they supposed to use the touch screens without hands?"
At this point the instructor FINALLY says something, after literally sitting there the entire time letting this continue, he cuts off the guy and says we are out of time.
What a fucking douchebag.
Now, I know that sometimes I have a tendency to overreact. I also know that the way I tell this story can't properly convey the attitude in his voice.
To solve this, I've lifted the guys Facebook profile pic (PS, he should turn his security settings all the way up if he's going to be a jerk to everyone), after seeing it I'm sure you will judge for yourself.
First listed under interest: UFC. No, I'm not joking.
Yes. He set up a photo shoot for him and his bike.
No, he is not a professional motorcyclist which would be the only excuse for this behaviour.
Yes, it appears to be shot in some sort of sketchy warehouse with poorly set up lighting.
Yes, he probably had sex with the photographer after to "get into the business".
No, not a real photographer, probably just a homeless guy that shits in the back corner of the warehouse.
Rappers are hard as fuck.
From what I know about fuck it's somewhere between the consistency of titanium and adamantium.
So yeah...pretty hard.
He's all blinged out...on the inside.
How do I know this, you ask?
Am I friends with Rappers?
Do I hang with their posses?
Have I been to their cribs?
No.
However, I do like cheese. I hear they are mostly about "the cheddar."
Where is this going, you ask?
Well, firstly, stop asking all these fucking questions.
This is going to go wherever the hell I want it to go.
Second, I'll you where it is going:
Rappers are mostly full of shit. Or, at the very least, confusing as hell.
Example 1
Try to ignore the vest, those are given out to all visitors of my blog as a precaution.
I wish we didn't have to, but you know...
Haters gonna hate.
Right. Incase you didn't know, this is Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson.
Also, the cool kids pronounce it "Fitty cent."
Or so they tell me whilst dunking my head in the nearest toilet.
According to the most reliable source I could find Fitty started selling crack when he was 12.
Which is nearly as impressive as me passing Final Fantasy VII when I was 12, but not quite.
Apparently he was selling during a "crack epidemic" which was probably beneficial for business. Really though, can it be considered an epidemic at all? I mean, literally all you need to do to completely end it is stop doing the thing causing it. Completely in your control. Every bit.
"Oh my god! This ebola epidemic is terrible, if only we could stop injecting ebola into ourselves on puprose! WHY?!?! MAKE IT STOP?!?!"
See what I mean? Ebola is an epidemic. Crack can't "run rampant". Crack is an inanimate object. If anything, this was a stupid epidemic. There was stupid people everywhere, and they just kept producing more stupid people. Then all of these people did some crack.
Anyways.
Back to Fitty.
Not only was he selling crack, but got busted for selling coke (Not new coke, classic. The hard stuff) to an undercover cop and spent some time in the big house.
Also, his mother (read: also coke dealer) got murdered when he was twelve. So overall a pretty normal childhood.
Oh. Then he got shot 9 times.
NINE.
That's almost ten.
I spent a week in the hospital once when I got my tonsils out, and they planned that shit out.
At this point I am sure you're all thinking wow, I bet this guy has turned out to be a perfectly adjusted member of society and has settled down with a nice girl.
Or this, reportedly.
At this point, I think it's proven that yes, "Fitty" is one tough mo'fo.
But....rappers are confusing.
In 2007 Fitty filed a lawsuit against some internet ad agency for a cartoon ad, a little point and click game thing that asked you to "shoot the rapper"
They didn't use Fitty's name, a variation of the name, or any name.
But apparently the image "intended to resemble him." Or some legal shit like that.
Why did Fitty sue?
He claims the image threatens his safety.
Yeah.
I don't even know how that makes sense, but I guess that these are the thoughts that go through your head when putting pictures like this on The Twitter seems like a good idea.
"Oh I shouldn't...this will go right to my thighs."
Yeah, he clearly needs the $1 million he's suing for.
Also, how does it threaten his safety?
Does he think that this obscure ad about a cartoon rapper that may or may not resemble him will encourage people to shoot at him in real life?
Maybe he forgot that before the ad existed HE GOT SHOT NINE GOD DAMN TIMES.
Now we are going to play a fun little game called "What the hell is your song about? I thought you were some sort of hardcore gangster rapper?"
...
Yeah, we're are going to work on shortening that title, we really need something that will roll of the tongue a bit better.
The Song: "Ayo Technology"
The Lyrics: You got me saying ayo I'm tired of using technology
Why don't you sit down on top of me?
Ayo
I'm tired of using technology
I need you right in front of me
It's only the chorus, let's be honest here, no one wants to read the lyrics to an entire 50 cent song.
Now, despite the fact that I don't know what "Ayo" means entirely, I'm pretty sure this chorus is about wanking it to internet porn.
He's sick of masturbating and wishes that he had a real lady to "sit down on top of him."
You know who else is in that exact predicament?
This kid:
Yes. Despite his total pwnage over those stupid developer n00bs that kid clearly has not hit it yet (The 'it' in question being lady parts).
And apparently Curtis "I-sold-crack-when-I-was-twelve-and-then-got-shot-nine-times" Jackson is in the exact same situation.
Actually, the kid has a leg up; Fitty probably can't power level a Gnomish Warlock.
Probably.
Alright. That was confusing right?
Not even close.
You remember Nelly right?
It's like he's staring right into my soul.
Daps and hugs mean mugs and shoulder shrugs.
NELLY IS FUCKING INSANE.
That's a lyric from his first single "Country Grammar".
I'm sure you remember it from junior high, much the same as I do. (In this scenario everyone else on the internet is the exact same age as me. Also, they never got held back a grade.)
I'm also sure that much like me you pretended to love it because it's what the cool kids were listening to, but secretly you had no idea what he was talking about.
"Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to me now. Right guys? Right? Me too, right?"
Man. It's tough to be one of the cool kids. So much translating. Side Note: How come it's cool to translate crazy rapper talk, but not cool to translate Klingon? WTF people. Priorities. At no point ever are you going to need to be able to speak drugged-out rapper to negotiate for intergalactic peace.
Back to Nelly. He got pretty popular, and thanks to his other single "Hot in Hurr" it's now completely acceptable to replace pretty much whatever letters you want with 'ur's instead. Example sentences: Hey, what's that over thur? My girlfriend dumped me. She just doesn't cur.
Nelly wears a band-aid on his face.
"I'll step to you if you fuck with me. Oh this? I got scratched by a kitty cat."
Apparently he wears it because his brother is in jail, and the band-aid represents solidarity. How exactly? No fucking clue. I think we've already established that rappers have crazy ass-backwards logic:
"Haters gonna Hate, right Taylor?"
"*uncontrollable sobbing*"
Now, someone who is keeping solidarity with his prison-pals (like pen-pals! but more shivving!) must be pretty B.A. right? I bet he raps about like, ho's and his dick and stuff. Wait- Ho's and his dick! Yeah, that's probably it. Lyrics to "Just a Dream", Nelly's newest single: I was thinkin about her, thinkin about me.
Thinkin about us, what we gonna be?
Open my eyes, yeah; it was only just a dream.
So I travel back, down that road.
Who she come back? No one knows.
I realize, yeah, it was only just a dream.
I was at the top and I was like I’m at the basement.
Number one spot and now she found her a replacement.
I swear now I can't take it, knowing somebody's got my baby.
And now you ain't around, baby I can't think.
Shoulda put it down. Shoulda got that ring.
Cuz I can still feel it in the air.
See her pretty face run my fingers through her hair.
That's enough of that. Pretty B.A. right? I bet his brother in prison brags about these lyrical bombs his bro is dropping, you know, to earn mad cred.
To finish up this little "Get to know your rapper" piece... Donald Glover.
Cardigan...BITCH.
Hmm...something seems different about Donald. His picture is slightly different from Nelly and Fitty. Maybe we'll try another one.
There is no way a caption can improve this photo.
Well...that had the opposite effect. Donald Glover is not a gangster. He didn't sell crack (that anyone knows of). He hasn't been shot. He certainly hasn't been shot nine fucking times.
If you're as awesome as I am you probably recognize Donald Glover from either NBC's Community or his own Derrick Comedy. Community is easily one of the best show's on TV, and Derrick Comedy's "Mystery Team" was easily one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time.
Donald started writing fro 30 Rock right out of NYU. In fact, his first year on staff he was still living on NYU campus as an RA because the rent was free. He did have to wear an RA pager to work however.
He's also been doing stand-up comedy and skits with Derrick Comedy.
Seems pretty standard right? Comedian/Actor/Writer.
He's also one hell of a rapper. I would say he's lyrically way better that Fifty of Nelly. How basically either are acting tough to get rich, or acting like a huge pussy to get rich.
Donald seems to just make his music the way he wants, not really worrying about his image.
Or maybe that's all he worries about, how the fuck should I know? I'm not a mind-reader.
Yet.
Obviously that is something a fan threw together to post one of his songs on YouTube, he doesn't have any videos for his work yet.
Quality music though. Not to mention lyrics, here's a little sampling of some of my favourites:
You wouldn't think from the things I'm fashionin' I'd get more bush than Kim Kardashian Drop hot shit. Yeah, my mouth's a laxative Born to be the greatest, this is not by accident
I be on that other shit, I'm harder than a consonant And that's because I'm flyer than the mother ship, you ostrich I'm awesome rich. Call a bitch. Fresher than my lozenges The problem is you in the Danger Zone like Kenny Loggins is
I ain't got to do it big, I just gotta do it different And these hoes are on my dick, and if you got it, it ain't trickin' I be steady gettin' paper, call a nigga Dunder Mifflin
Ok. I know that just because I love him, doesn't mean you have to. But you'd be more awesome if you did. I'm just saying you don't see a lot of rappers throwing out references to The Office.
Also, the guy rapping about this stuff is the same guy doing this. Don't see a lot of rappers doing this kind of thing either.
I guess, basically, this post is just trying to show that this is 2010 people, we don't have to be a "gangster" to be a rapper. Or only be hilarious all the time to do comedy. We've come along way as a society. We aren't as apt to stereotype someone simply based on their appearance, or the material they are involved with. Oh, unless they are country music stars. Those guys are all rednecks. Seriously, here are the last 6 guys to win the Country Music Awards Male vocalist of the year.
This goes back to 1996 by the way. Lot of repeat "winners."
In ten years of entertaining they have all looked almost identical. Keith Urban doesn't rock the cowboy hat, but loses the small amount of credit he gained because he married Nicole Kidman.
*Editors note: This post is meant only to be read while watching the movie "Running Scared" starring Hollywood treasure Paul Walker. If you have not at the very least seen the movie recently, this will be confusing. Also, the only reason I attempted to watch this cinematic jewel is because my friend @CaptainSheBro insisted that it was "Paul Walker's best movie." This may be true. It still sucked bad.
This kid is apparently hurt, but the small amount of blood on his shirt isn't changing. That suggests he's no longer bleeding, so what's the rush?
Oh snap, he's got asthma. That's why.
I definitely recognize the voice of Chaz Palminterri, meaning that Paul Walker is now the second worst actor in this movie.
Ok. Someone just flew 6 feet through the air after being shot with a shotgun, highly un-realistic, but still super awesome.
Paul Walker is now going down on a woman (possibly Vera Farminga), he seems to be enjoying it; this is more acting than I generally see him do.
These children have stacked up paint cans to mark the goal line for Hockey. I understand, you don't have a net, you make due. What I don't understand however, is why do you have 8 cans of paint in your basement? Unless you are a painter this is just weird.
I'm pretty sure Paul Walker just pronounced "perfect" as "poifect". Is that what they sound like in New Jersey?
If I am following this correctly, the foreign neighbour dad is upset that his son is a hockey fan, but not a fan of John "My name is actually Marion" Wayne.
HOLY FUCK PAUL WALKER CAN SEE THROUGH TIME.
Why is Mrs. Criminal-with-bad-fake-accent totally ok with her husband leading a life of crime?
Oh Shit! Paul Walker just bumped into Chaz, and Chaz knows who Paul is but Paul doesn't know who Chaz is so Paul was all like "Oh sorry". What a fucking putz.
Seriously? Your "hangout" is an old abandoned rec-center in the park? What the fuck is up with these kids.
Ahhh, the infamous "whispering hobo."
This kid has excellent listening skills: "Alright kid, you stay out here, I'm going inside this sketchy bathroom at this abandoned amusement park in the middle of the night to investigate those gun shots we just hear."
2 seconds later the kid rolls through the door
"Hey! Wassup Paul Walker? You getting shot at in here? No? Coolio to the max."
Yes! This pimp is keeping his business in order! That shit's an investment.
*At this point I have stopped watching this movie. This was about a month ago, I have no plans to resume. I figured I might as well post what I have. If you haven't seen this film, consider yourself lucky.
