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My Fiftieth Blog Entry


Jason Rimbaud

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My Fiftieth Blog Entry

So I realized a few days ago, that this would be my fiftieth blog entry here on Awesome Dude. Of course this was after I wrote one of my typical blog entries. And much to my surprise, I was petrified to post this average run-of-the-mill post. Let's face it, my fiftieth blog entry warranted something special.

So for days I struggled with finding the right topic. I thought I'd come up with something witty, maybe a bit smart, and really funny. But as I stared at the blank screen, I discovered I didn't feel very witty, smart, or funny. So then I thought I might offer up some advice, something so deep that it would change the life of anyone who might read it. But I don't have any advice other than to advise to never wear pink out in public, and that's really not that life-changing for everyone. So I called my friends, polling them for any glimmer of insight they might have to offer. But sadly, I found out they are pretty much as pointless as my left over toenail clippings. Then I danced around with the idea of relaying some past emotional trauma for you but I don't feel like being all deep and vulnerable right now.

So here I am, my fiftieth blog entry and I've got nothing to say.

But...I can offer this one admission, an admission so terrifying and so embarrassing just the thought of it causes me to run and hide in the closet and never come out again unless I first change my identity.

I am really looking forward to the new Harry Potter movie.

You average Awesome Dude readers might not think this is a very scary admission at all. Truly not scary enough to warrant posting it as my fiftieth. But let me explain this first, so it becomes crystal clear why this admission frightens me so.

First off, let me say that I've never read a single Harry Potter book. Mostly because I'm not a fan of books starring children, for some reason I can't seem to identify with twelve-year-olds, no matter if I act the part most of the time.

Nor have I watched a single Harry Potter movie. When asked about Harry Potter, I would roll my eyes and say something along the lines, "How good can it be, it's a childrens book." To be honest, I've been known to vehemently say I would never read, watch, or pursue any avenue that would lead me to Harry Potter or that freaky witch that writes the stories. In my opinion, J.K. Rowling is one step below Satan. I don't care how much money the whore has made.

So how could I go from hating all these Harry Potter to looking forward to this new Harry Potter movie?

Let's go back to last week. I had the good fortune of having Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off, Wednesday being the fourth of July. And while Monday and Tuesday were quite eventful and I'm pretty sure I'll be posting those events in blog entries very soon, Wednesday I had absolutely nothing to do.

Hanging out with Daniel's family is okay, most of the time, but there are times when I just want to hang out alone and veg. Unfortantly, sometimes Jason alone is not a good thing. Idle hands and such, so when I begin feeling a bit bored, I do what I normally do...I clean my apartment. But that only killed about four hours and two bottles of wine. So I decided to order food from my favorite Chinese Restaurant, in reality I ordered enough food for three people. Once the food was delivered, I settled in front of the TV to eat WAY TO MUCH food and watch some mind-numbing programs on my 60 inch screen.

Okay, I know the fourth of July is a holiday about the celebration of the independence for our nation. I love America, I really do, but fuck me running backwards, why the hell do they have to play those crappy war movies all day long. I've seen them all, a billion times and I wasn't in the mood for blind patriotism. I wanted a different flavor, so channel surfing became my way of doing something different. And since I have every channel available, going through them is a chore in and of itself.

Two hundred channels and nothing on right. It's how it always goes. The only movie I was even considering watching was on TCM at two o-clock, Mel Gibson's The Patriot. Looking at my watch, I had about twenty minutes to kill. In my channel surfing, I saw that Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone had just started a few minutes earlier. So on a whim, I switched over, after all, I was all alone in my apartment and I would allow my balls to be ripped from my body by a herd of wild baby elephants before I would ever admit to what I had just done. I had planned on watching it for a few minutes before The Patriot started, no harm, no foul. Right? Okay, yeah, I'll tell myself that.

Holy Shit! Before I knew it the ending credits were rolling and I was in shock. Not only was it a good movie, but I really, really, really, liked it. So much so, that I got dressed and raced to the local Blockbuster to rent the other three movies. I won't mention that I made a big show of saying to the pimply faced nerd behind the counter that I was renting these stupid movies for my little cousin, so loudly that everyone in line heard me.

I watched all three movies back to back. And I was sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time. I couldn't believe it, the story drew me and kept me waiting to see how this all played out.

So my friend, Ann, is a Harry Potter junkie. I mean junkie, she has all the books, signed probably from E-Bay, she owns all the movies and has watched them over and over again. And for years, I gave her a ton of shit about this unhealthy addiction. But once the fourth film finished, I was so excited, I called her up.

Did you know that Pennsylvania is three hours ahead of California? I did, but for some reason in my excitment I forgot that important piece of information. It was a few minutes after midnight in California, for me, yet for her, it was just after three AM. After she yelled at me for about five minutes, something about waking her up in the middle of the night on a work day, I finally got the chance to tell her about the Harry Potter marathon I had in my apartment.

Three hours later, we finally hung up. She had twenty minutes to shower and get dressed for work. We talked about the story development, the movie version as opposed to the books, it was a fucking amazing conversation. In those three hours, I learned so much about the world of Harry Potter. I hung up the phone in a daze, and a bit confused why I had for so many years dismissed Harry Potter as mere children's drivel. And I realized that I was a fan.

At least when it comes to the movies. I still won't buy a single J.K. Rowling book, mostly because of the things I've heard her say in the press and the way she goes after those who writes fanfics about her characters. Fanfics are the truest form of flattery, why the hell she gives a flying nun's fuck is beyond my understanding. Anyway, J.K. Rowling sucks, no matter if they can make good movies from her crappy books. About enough about that crazy whore.

So now I'm waiting for the new movie. I'll even go see it with all the other wacko's and won't be embarrassed to be seen in the theatre. Mainly because I know I won't be the only fag in the theater who is watching because of Daniel Radcliff. My oh my how he's grown up. And I've been fortunate in that regard, I've watched him grow up in a single afternoon instead of waiting for each new movie like the rest of you.

So I'll admit it, I'm a fan of Harry Potter. And I should never have said never. Oh well, life goes on.

Jason R.

Now if I could only persuade Ann to keep her big fat mouth shut, and not tell all our friends. Like that's going to happen, she probably already sent out a mass email to everyone. Tragic I say, fucking tragic.

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You're scaring me big time, Jason. I haven't read the books either, and only a tiny part of one movie. Do you mean I'm likely to succumb to the witch's black magic?

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Jason Wrote:

Daniel Radcliff. My oh my how he's grown up. And I've been fortunate in that regard, I've watched him grow up in a single afternoon instead of waiting for each new movie like the rest of you.
Yea, I'd watch him grow all afternoon too.But all the movies one after the other? No foreplay then, Jason? :icon1::hug: PS Happy 50th Blog, :icon1:
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I'm actually thinking of something witty to write here, but no such luck. Fifty entries? Man, I've got forty-five more to make.Although I really know nothing about Harry Potter (not fond of it), I understand the bit about Daniel RADcliffe. Sigh. I wish I could do more than just stare at him.See, this really is nothing witty.

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"I never use my secret weapon. The enemy might find out what it is."I have a buddy who NEVER turns in his winning scratch lotto tickets, because it might break his winning streak. Most of them just expire at the end of the year, not cashed out. The similarity just struck me as funny.

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I don't think I'll even mention Des or Trab's comments. Wanking and such I'll leave to my betters. :icon1: I'd like to apologize to Rad for those insensitive comments, no matter how funny they were. Wanking, good one Trab. :hug: That being said, Trab watch out for the British witch, she'll get inside your soul and steal your last breath just like she stole the idea of Harry Potter. :icon1: And for the reasons why I hate J.K.Rowling Wibby, I'm not sure. But it has something to do with bad teeth, upstairs of independent book stores, and the fear of the fog. Jason R.

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just like she stole the idea of Harry Potter.
That is simply unkind and untrue.
But it has something to do with bad teeth, upstairs of independent book stores, and the fear of the fog.
Her teeth are not British and are just fine. And I love independent book stores (most of which sell HP). Fog? Well Jack the Ripper understands that fear....
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My mum told me that fog was a cloud that got tired and came down to the Earth for a rest.Not that I have a clue what that has to do with the current discussion. :icon1::icon1:

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just like she stole the idea of Harry Potter.
That is simply unkind and untrue.
But it has something to do with bad teeth, upstairs of independent book stores, and the fear of the fog.
Her teeth are not British and are just fine. And I love independent book stores (most of which sell HP). Fog? Well Jack the Ripper understands that fear....
Well Wibby, It seems I was wrong about her teeth, I checked for pictures on the web.As for independent book stores, I really like them as well, more intimate than the big chain stores.As for the fog, your reason is way better than mine.And since we all know our resident raccoon is one of the most intelligent beings on Awesome Dude, I might...might I say...borrowmyfriendsbook and readthefirstharrypotter. Jason R.
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