If there’s anything I like about commutes, it has to be bus movies. When it comes to bus movies, Jason F’n Statham is king.
I will now make a mental note to myself to refer to Jason F’n Statham’s name with the “F’n” modifier.
I don’t know how many times I watched “Transporter 3″ in a bus commute, and for the life of me, I don’t understand the movie. Understanding and critical analysis, however, are irrelevant when you’re watching action flicks. You don’t go about deconstructing an action movie, like say, “David Balondo ng Tondo,” and go about the semiotics of why Ramon Revilla is immune to bullets, and why he uses a bull-whip to beat up drug runners armed with Armalite rifles. Then, years after the literal ass-whipping of the lawless elements of Isla Puting Bato, Revilla’s son, Ramon “Bong” Revilla, Jr., made that smashing, kick-ass, somebody-give-me-a-Jagerbomb-it-was-so-fucking-cool movie known as “Resiklo.”
I can’t disguise my sarcasm well. Hell, even that’s called into question because I take pains to find out what in the hell happened to Lindsay Custodio.
Anyway, back to Jason F’n Statham. “Jason Statham:” now that’s a macho name you’d expect from an action star suffering from male-pattern baldness, but still happens to have chiseled muscles. If Don Lafontaine were alive today, he would have given justice to the awesomeness of Jason Statham’s name. Hey, he did it with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the Terminator franchise: there’s only one way to pronounce Arnold’s surname, and that’s with the guttural, I-smoked-cigars-all-my-life voice of the late voice of every cool, dystopian, post-Apocalyptic action movie trailer known to man.
Oh, there’s nothing wrong with having glasses, except that people call you names like, “Four-Eyes.” Girls won’t go out with you. You’re ostracized by every social group… you can’t swim in them… if you lose them you can’t find them… Oh fishsticks, I depressed myself. I’m gonna go lie down.
- Filburt Shellbach, Rocko’s Modern Life
There’s a big difference between being born to wear glasses, and being born with glasses. While I know that I wore my first pair of glasses when I was in second grade, it seems that I wore glasses all my life.
Me and my parents went off to the optometrist to buy me a new pair of glasses. It seems that I need a new pair: my glasses, which reach up to 300x, are causing me more problems than giving me a clearer view of things. Glasses with that high a grade can get quite expensive, so I had to snivel over to my parents for them to fund the glasses to help me stay employed.
When I was a kid, I wore one of those Coke-bottle glasses that sort of gave me the annoying habit of walking with my head bowed. By the time optometrists and lens-makers figured out a way to make glasses thinner and less prone to breaking, they changed my Coke-bottle glasses, snapped one with a frame with the image of Snoopy, and got taunted for being a nerd.
My vision problems went downhill from there; I became temporarily blind for a time, I have problems discerning color, and I pretty much sleep with my glasses on. Somehow, glasses became (part of) my Dasein.
I suppose that my first year of being a career writer deserves some degree of introspection. However, being just the kind of guy that I am, soul-searching is best left for another day, when:
- I’m not full from one of the best eating experiences I’ve had in a long time (more on that soon);
- I had something to drink, and;
- I’m off to somewhere in a few hours and I have a bout of insomnia.
To celebrate this completely irrelevant historical milestone that means absolutely nothing, allow me to give you your (almost) weekly dose of… you guessed it…
Lyrics translations. A dozen of them.