Search for One-eye Jimmy, The.

Yesterday I didn't know what to do, so I went over to the video store and I looked for hours to find a movie I'd like to watch, but in vain, as I had seen most of them already. I asked for a good comedy because I didn't want to be bummed out again ("Lilja 4 Ever" sucks and so does "Sonny"), and I was promptly instructed that "comedies are over there". So, here I am, going over there, and as I was browsing the movies on the shelf, I see... "THE SEARCH FOR ONE-EYE JIMMY!" So I'm thinking "Hey, there's Steve Buscemi, and that guy from Mr. Jeeves and some other dude I don't know, and there's a one-eyed dude in it, so I can't lose, can I?" BIG mistake.
I rented it, took it home and popped it in the DVD player. Things went kinda blurry from there, but I will narrate what I DO remember. There was this journalist or something that did a story on the particular neighbourhood for some reason, and he stumbled upon the discovery that One-eye Jimmy had been lost like a few days ago. "Eureka!", he thought! "This story is going to make me rich and famous", he also thought, hoping that One-eye Jimmy would be dead and that he would be the only reporter to document something of that magnitude on tape. And so, THE SEARCH FOR ONE-EYE JIMMY begins!
They roam faraway lands and strange places (their neighbourhood) in a futile quest to return Jimmy to his rightful owner (his mother). In this quest they meet many a farcical character like the guy from Mr. Jeeves (John Turturro? Yeah, him) and other useless people. At some point they "rescue" a hooker from her manager who rightfully wants to claim his share of her earnings, the bastards. At some other point, they throw a party hoping that Jimmy would hear about it and show up(?) or something like that.
After the party, and while Jimmy is nowhere to be seen, his mother begins to despair and realise that she is never going to see her dumbass lazy son alive again. At that exact moment (or maybe earlier or later, I don't remember), like a deus ex machina, Jimmy appears! Everybody is overjoyed (except the reporter who lost his only shot at becoming famous, because he's obviously a hack and stupid), and they ask Jimmy where he had been. After these breathtaking (yawn) two-or-so hours, the question that was on every viewer's lips is about to be answered: "Where was Jimmy?!"
Wait for it... Jimmy had LOCKED HIS DUMB FUCKING ASS IN THE BASEMENT LAUNDRY ROOM when he tried to do some laundry and the lock jammed or something, and he couldn't call the super because he was away on vacation. HOW FUCKING STUPID CAN HE BE?! I was overjoyed at having wasted my money to see this piece of shit, and I wished wholeheartedly that Jimmy died after losing his other eye.
The picture was horrible (it looked like it had been shot with a goddamn camera obscura), and the plot was so dumb that made you think "Wait, it can't be that dumb, I must have not understood something and this is actually great." Only it turns out that you didn't miss anything, except maybe your $2.50. How did all these actors get together in this monstrosity? Did they just say "hey, let's see if we can make a film that costs more to rent than make, while ruining our reputations at the same time!" Well, they succeeded. This is a good movie to see if you are suicidal, it gives you a purpose in life, and that purpose is not to rest until every single person in this movie is dead or in jail for the rest of their lives.
Other than that, I enjoyed the film a lot.

Bash

OK, this is a first. I am posting an EXTERNAL LINK! Amazing! I hope this doesn't happen frequently and we get to post every single piece of shit we find on the net, but this is the funniest thing I've seen in my entire life, except the time when my friend sat on... No, this is the funniest thing I've ever seen. Bash top something quotes

Americans - What are you doing?!

While I was on my toilet pondering the deeper aspects of life, I remembered the notion of teabagging. This led me to cogitate about the wonderful and largely unexplored continent that is America, and, more precisely, the United States. In the following text I shall present you with fundamental issues questioning the sanity of the American culture.

Teabagging

First and foremost, there is teabagging. I don't know exactly what it is, but I think it has something to do with the scrotum and the forehead or the oral cavity. I am unable to understand what kind of sick, twisted individual could come up with this noumenon, for its genius is truly beyond mortal intellect. I seriously believe that if you rounded up a thousand of the least mature 16-year-olds they would not be able to conceive something even remotely resembling this. The only situation where teabagging would be acceptable if the receiver is a blender, a lawn mower or a chainsaw (all turned on). I don't know about you, but where I live, if one was to say "Hey, look at this passed out dude, I should put my balls in his mouth", he would instantly be carried away by a mob of angry people and would be castrated publicly.

Wedgie

Ah, the art of violently pulling underwear. Seriously, who comes up with this stuff? I told my 4 year old brother about it and he said "wow, that's immature!". Well, actually he said "ti anorimi malakia", but you wouldn't understand that, would you? I don't know if the teens we see in teen movies really exist in the U.S. or if they are a figment of Hollywood's imagination, but if they do exist, their collective intellect is lower than that of a celery stalk, because I've never seen a celery stalk perform a wedgie on another celery stalk, and if I had, I would bring it to the Jerry Springer show and I would be rich. I cannot even begin to comprehend what pleasure one might possibly get from performing this manoeuvre. Again, if one was to perform it here, one would get his ass kicked by two, the receiver of said wedgie, along with the aforementioned angry mob.

Swirlie

The king of imagination, the epitome of intelligence, a swirlie is performed by inserting the victim's head in the lavatory and then flushing it. All my vocabulary has been exhausted on the previous two pearls of human genius, therefore I cannot find words to sufficiently describe the revolution in enjoyment that is the swirlie. Uplifting, morally cleansing and intelectually stimulating, the swirlie is indeed the king amongst human inventions. I would have to spend my entire life finding someone (outside the U.S.) willing to perform a swirlie if I paid them, let alone receive one. I assume violence would work on the latter, as is usually the case, but even if I could find the two parties involved, I would still not be very proud of myself because I just wasted a life.
I guess that there are two sides to every coin, and the home of cheap electronics, $1 Big Macs and the Statue of Liberty also has its bad sides, although I must acknowledge that only an intellect of the magnitude of Einstein, Aristotle and myself could come up with these amazing innovations, so that is not necessarily a bad thing. Due to a phenomenal lack of a good way to close this post, I will simply stop writi

Tourists.

They live. I've seen them. If you live in a touristy area, you might have seen them too. They're tourists. You see them outside, pasty-white, with their sandals and shorts and backpacks, all raggedy-looking, as if they have come out of a cave after an eleven-month hibernation period to catch some sun before they crawl back under a rock to sleep for another eleven months.
I recently saw a (I think it was American) site describe them the exact same way, and I was shocked. I always thought they came from "abroad", but now it seems that people "abroad" ask themselves the same question. Where do they come from? Could it be that they creep out of a hole every year, after living in the Earth's core for a very long time? They never seem to speak a language anyone can speak, and I think that is camouflage. In Greece, they speak Norwegian. In Norway (who would go to Norway on vacation anyway, those guys are frozen all year) they speak Spanish. In Spain, they speak Vietnamese. Noone can talk to them, noone can tell where they are from or why they came where they are.
I don't believe that anyone in their right mind would walk dressed like "they", even if they were thousands of kilometers (approximately thousands of miles) away from home. One must be characterized with a distinct lack of sanity to wear sandals in public. And what is the matter with their colour? I've seen ALBINOS more black than that, for crying out loud. I don't think humans are capable of having that lack of pigment in their skin (excluding Counterstrike players, but they're not humans anyway. I can almost hear them cry out "DIE FAGET" to me).
The next time I see one of "them" (which will probably be next summer, which is, for those of you unfamiliar with Greece, in 4 months, because we have 8 months of summer here), I will be sure to confuse him by speaking Norwegian (I shall learn a phrase), so that he will be forced to speak English, and after he has fallen victim of my clever ruse, I will interview him for your viewing pleasure.
Back to watching Black Hawk Down (yeah, I STILL haven't watched all of it, that movie lasts days, or so it seems). I am fairly confident that the Somalis will lose, because they didn't pay a single shilling for the production of the movie.

Movie tips.

I was watching Black Hawk Down (actually I have been watching it for the last week, 10 minutes per day or so), and it suddenly hit me. You can always tell the good guys from the bad guys in any movie, because the good guys kill five bad guys with one bullet, while the bad guys kill one good guy with a hundred bullets, and the bad guys' rockets never hit anyone, while the good guys destroy a small country's population with a single grenade.
The Americans were out in the open, with hundreds of Somalis all around them (and in elevated positions, I might add), and the Somalis never hit anyone, no matter how slow he was moving, while the Americans killed 2-3 Somalis with one burst. Now that's efficiency!
Despite all this, the Americans always ran out of ammo, mainly because of two reasons. The first is that Somalia, being the rich country that it is (never mind that they fit machine guns on old cars), had an infinite supply of ammo so they could shoot all day without running out. The second reason is that Somalis aren't born, their parents cultivate them in huge fields in Somalia, and each Somali takes two to five days to go from seed to fully adult. Thusly, there were millions upon millions of them, and no matter how many you kill, more will always be back to shoot at you. Oh, and if you kill one, two others will grow in his place, so it's really OK to kill them en masse.
Also, what the fuck is wrong with Orlando Bloom? When you're on a chopper, you fucking idiot, you hang on to shit, especially when you are about to go down a rope. If you stand in the middle of the chopper doing your tap dancing, then it serves you right to fall off it. I haven't finished the movie yet so I don't know if he lives or dies, but he's nothing but trouble, so that won't be a terrible loss.
I have just think of a way that this movie might have been better, so I will release this plot in the public domain, with the hope that someone makes a movie: There are to US soldiers in a chopper, the pilot and another one. The chopper goes down, the pilot explodes ALL OVER THE PLACE, I mean, there's blood and legs and arms and heads and shit all over Somalia, and not only two of each. Then the other dude who was in the chopper tries to guard what's left of the pilot (his chopper) while millions upon millions of black thin dudes fires at him with guns, RPGs and nuclear bombs, but nothing hits him, because he's a well-known actor and not some extra. While he is shooting and killing people and forming mountains of dead bodies (which is OK, because they don't live in the US), he calls in to his base to send backup, but they say "Negative, Doe, you are surrounded by Somalis so we can't send assistance". Oh my, really? WHY THE HELL WOULD HE NEED ASSISTANCE IF HE WASN'T? Because of this hole, I have to add hugeass explosions all around, so noone will notice it, so here goes:
BOOOOOOM! PSHHHHHHHHHH! BANG BANG! PSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! BOOM!
Ok, so he's alone and killing everyone. This is the point where the movie ends, but I haven't seen all of it, so I can only speculate. My guess is he does something really heroic like dying or running out of ammo and sneaking behind the Somalis and killing him with his nail clipper. I think that him dying would be better, because there are 270m Americans while there are only 6m Somalis.
Anyway, I'll watch the rest and get back to you later. Maybe.

T-Shirts!

Obeying your wishes, we have created all-new Porocrom t-shirt line, including the infamous "Vaginas rock!" t-shirt (you WILL need to register for free and change your settings to PG-13 rated to see the PG-13 shirts). The URL is in the right of the page, as well as here for my gallery and here for Crommunist's. NOW GO BUY THEM!
A sample:

A revelation.

OK. I am going to let you in on a little secret. I know it can be very hard to guess by yourself, but THERE ARE ACTUALLY TWO PEOPLE(!) writing on this blog, Poromenos (I, the Greek dude) and Crommunist (the Canadian dude). I think we should put our names before and after each post, as well as to the top right of the page. We didn't want to tell you that before because we didn't know what you would think of us, but I decided to break the silence and reveal this terrible secret. Please be gentle.

Women.

I recently came upon an email entitled "the Being A Real Guy degree" or some crap like that. It was about an imaginary school where such classes as "Learn to work the toilet seat" and "Learn to share the remote" and shit like that existed. Sounds to me like "the Manwhore degree", so I am hereupon starting to teach the Quit Being A Bitch degree. Don't get me wrong, I love women as much as the next pervert (in fact my very mother is a woman herself), but fuck you, ladies. See where the female emancipation led us, now they have time to write crap like this between doing the dishes and the laundry.
I hate this unprovoked "Ooo, look at us, we are flowery-smelling goddesses of wisdom that have finally found their strength and we hate you, you belching, sports-watching, hairy unable-to-work-the-toilet-seat monsters. Vaginas rock". I never said anything bad about women (not until now, anyway), and I always recognised that the sexes are different but equal (women, stop reading, men, this is just crap I tell women so they won't hate me too much. HEY BITCH, WHY DID YOU READ THIS?).
While we're on the subject, what is this crap about the toilet seat? Why should we put it up, do our thing and put it down again while you just sit your royal ass down and go at it? If I hear another woman telling me to put the toilet seat down after I'm finished, I'll piss with it down and then put it up. Besides, I don't have a problem with pissing with the seat down, you do.
While I'm typing, I might as well hit this too. I always hear women complaining how there aren't any nice guys any more, yet they hook up with men that ignore them, abuse them, whatever. I believe, and that email only serves to reinforce that belief, that "nice guys" means "someone who has a lot of money and will do whatever I want". Even if such men EXISTED, I doubt that you'd find them by hanging out in clubs (not to mention that you blow off almost every guy that hits on you there). That's like me complaining about how hot models never come to my house to give me blowjobs.
The remote control. What the hell is with this shit? I never watch TV anyway, and I'd rather be dead than caught watching the crap you watch. I think you're doing this just to bust our balls the ONE time we decide to watch something (not THE GAME, I fucking hate THE GAME, I never watch sports, unless we are EUROPEAN CHAMPIONS 2004! But I digress).
I also hate how you act like sex is a horrible chore we put you through. "Oh, not again, not sex!". Why do you do this? Do you want people to see that you are an innocent little virgin dressed in white in a world where crazed sex-lusting beasts are out to devour you? Quit it, we know you want sex as much as we do, if not more. Why is it that it's OK for a woman to not want to have sex, but for a man it's "neglecting his duties"? Since when is it a duty, if women say they don't even want it? And besides, on the "headache" issue, is it really THAT hard for you to lie there until we're done?
Searching a bit, I have found the actual text of the email, so I am going to address a few issues. Bask in the wonderfulness that is it.
"MEN 103...PMS - Learn when to keep your mouth shut"
What the hell, sounds to me that this is advice for you. If you can't help sounding like a cranky bitch, STOP TALKING. I don't have to put up with you and nod patiently if you can't control what you're saying. I understand that it might feel bad (or maybe it's just an excuse you make for being cranky all month long, since no man ever knows when women are PMSing), but if every word you say is the beginning of a fight, the sensible thing to do would be to not talk.
"MEN 104...We do not want sleazy underthings for Christmas"
We do not want to give things that cost more than the deficit of a small country for Christmas. It was either this or a pair of slippers.
"MEN 120...How NOT to act like an asshole when you're wrong"
I don't know about other men, but I'm never wrong. Not applicable.
"MEN 213...Honest - You don't look like Russel Wong"
Who the fuck is Russel Wong? He sounds Chinese, so yeah, I don't look like him. I look Greek.
The downside of feminism is that women not only believe they're equal, they believe they're better. Cut that crap. You're going to burn the dinner.

Kate Beckinsale

A message to you-know-who-you-are:
I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING MORE ON THE MATTER. KATE BECKINSALE IS ONE OF THE 5 HOTTEST WOMEN ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH, AND THAT'S THAT. PERIOD.
This is not a real post. Don't look at it.

P.S. For the other 4, look at the "In love (again)" post. The list is subject to change without previous notice.

English for foreigners.

Today I found out I have not been speaking English correctly all this time. I watched a crap movie where American soldiers went to a place in Africa or Asia or Antarctica and bought an elephant with a kid to torment them. From the first few moments of the movie it dawned on me that my English sucks. Apparently, people outside native English speaking countries should have no concept of the first person singular, and refer to themselves only in the third person, because this kid could speak immaculate English but only in the third person, sort of like IRC. You know, "/me likes sex". A sample phrase from the movie: "Lin is very happy that he has met your acquaintance. Lin would be grateful if you would allow him to accompany you and Lin's elephant on your quest for saving the world, as American soldiers in movies always do."
From now on Poromenos will talk like that. Poromenos sorry he could not speak English very well until now, but Poromenos not knew. Come to think of it, I think this only applies to Asians. I don't know what Greeks are supposed to talk like. Maybe we're all terrorists who can't speak.
Bah.

Lame excuses.

I am certain that you, like me, are tired of always hearing the same lame excuses. I have compiled the following extensive list of excuses so that you will be informed and you will never again perform such iniquity as to mention them in my presence.

Excuse 1: It's a movie, it's OK if it's illogical.

That's just stupid. Like everything else, movies have to obey rules. Even if it's a medieval movie with talking dragons and dwarves, that doesn't mean that the humans can spontaneously change gender and start listening to Emo. And by the way, what was Tess in Ocean's Eleven thinking, that Benedict would say "Sure, Danny, keep the 40-whatever million, I don't need it because it is a trivial amount of money and my casinos run on water"? THAT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE. If someone gave her 40 mil, she would not only leave Benedict, she would kill her own mother. Bitch.

Excuse 2: I have a headache.

No you don't. If you did, you'd take some aspirin and get it on. I don't get why women use that excuse anyway. Just lie there until I've done my part woman, like our fathers and their fathers did for ages before them. I didn't hear my grandmother every saying "I have a headache", because my granddad would slap her silly and still nail that bitch.

Excuse 3: OH GOD, YES! YES! YES! YES! OH GOD! YES! AAAAAAAAAHHHhhhhh.

That has to be the sorriest excuse ever. If you want to get it over with, just say "I'm not in the mood, do your thing and let's sleep". No need to fake it, you don't see us saying "No, you are very thin". Well, you do, but that's just because you will never stop bitching if we don't say it.

Excuse 4: My alarm clock didn't ring.

This might have worked if you weren't 5 hours late for work smelling of alcohol and looking like shit. Just tell your boss you were partying like crazy the day before and there were hot chicks in that party and you wish he was there but you didn't know whether you should call him or not because let's face it you don't know him that well and although he would have enjoyed it very much you did not know if it was appropriate. He will probably tell you to shut up and go back to work somewhere in the middle of that sentence.

Excuse 5: That's just how I pronounce the word.

Words have standard pronunciations, you clod. You can't just change it and pronounce it "your own special way". That makes you about as special as the fat kid on the basketball team. If you want to be a unique and beautiful person, make up your own words. That should get you in the nuthouse soon enough, and the other inmates will surely appreciate your neologisms.
Unfortunately I cannot write more excuses because I need to walk my ostrich.

English lessons - Part two.

Hello, fellow readers. Your coming here can only mean that you can read (albeit barely enough to understand what I am writing). Today I shall continue to educate you on the proper usage of your language (unless that language is Russian and you are a tall, blond, HOT woman, in which case I will educate you later in private).
From what I have seen, there are two categories of people and myself. There are the people who can't distinguish between the nominative and the objective case and always use the objective case, and the people who can't distinguish between the nominative and the objective case and always use the objective case. Let me enlighten you further:
The first group of people (the majority) would say: "You and me are going to fuck them!"
I don't understand why someone would use this. You don't say "Me is going to fuck them", do you? Why would you use "me" here then? The correct phrase is "You and I are going to fuck them!".

The second group wants to appear more literate, and they say: "These two dolts are going to fuck you and I."
Again, why would you say that? You wouldn't say "They are going to fuck I." now, would you? No, you would use the objective me.
I can understand the first group, most of the time it's not worth the hours it takes to think whether you should use "I" or "me" to tell your cousin "Hay thar' Peggy Sue, I'ma go with tha fellers over to tha barn, get them varmints ready fer bed." ("Dearest wife, would you be kind enough as to prepare the children's sleeping arrangements?"). The second group, though, is unforgivable. They just want to appear to be well educated so they just throw an "I" everywhere, even where it's not correct. That is unacceptable.
The rule to speaking English well is very simple: Don't say together what you wouldn't say alone.
Examples:
Wrong: "John and me went to the whorehouse but the pimp told us we couldn't visit our wives while they were working."
The unfortunate person should have said "John and I", because had he gone alone, he would have said "I went", not "me went".
Wrong: "Our husbands saw Peggy and I while we were blowing some random guy at work."
Again, the same applies. The working lady would have said "My husband saw me", not "My husband saw I". It's really not that difficult.
I hope this clears up the grammar fog a bit. I will see you later.

By the way, you can only see a small part of Elisha's boob in "The Girl Next Door", while there is a scene where she pretends to fuck that ugly dude. Shame on the director. Nice boobs though, Elisha. Very nice.

Geography lesson - Greece

Today's geography lesson is about Greece. Greece is here:


Population: About 11 mil, 1 mil if you exclude Albanian immigrants.
Language: Greek (NO, IT'S NOT FUCKING ANCIENT GREEK, JUST LIKE ENGLISH IS NOT FUCKING OLD ENGLISH).
Flag: Blue with stripes and a cross (kinda looks like a gay christian prisoner).
National Anthem: Yes, best ever.
Area: Smallish area, but few people too, so we manage.
Currency: The Euro (it's the new currency of the European Union, for all you Americans), formerly the Drachma. Also, yes, Euro > Dollar.
Capital: Athens, and it's not full of ancient buildings, as most people seem to think. All the ancient stuff is underground.

In love (again)

Ladies and gentlemen (but mostly ladies. Actually only ladies, gentlemen go away), I'm sorry, but I have just become unavailable. It's not because I have found a new girlfriend (sadly), but because of my new infatuation. After Kate Beckinsale, Kathleen Robertson, Kathy Evison and Jennifer Love Hewitt, here comes Elisha Cuthbert (honorable mention to Elizabeth Berkley who never made it to the top) to steal my heart. Starring in movies such as 24 (which is essentially a 18-hour movie), Love Actually and The Girl Next Door (a movie I am going to watch as soon as I finish writing this piece of crap), she has won my heart with her acting, wit and the fact that she is FUCKING HOT!
As you may or may not know or may have known and have forgotten (I think this sentence covers all the possibilities), from time to time I am prone to becoming infatuated with various women. The symptomatology of this infatuation includes but is not limited to daydreaming, dizziness, butterflies in the tummy, inability to think coherently, drowsiness and, more rarely, schizophrenia. It usually lasts 2-7 days and the patient has a high probability of regression upon sight of the aetiology.
After describing the epidemiology and symptoms of the disease, I would like to move on to the actual subject. For those of you who don't know Elisha, she is Jack's daughter in 24, Carol-Anne in Love Actually and the girl next door in "The Girl Next Door". She is blonde, has the cutest face I've ever seen, and her boobs are also great.
The only imperfection she has is that her facial features resemble those of my sister's rather strikingly, which immediately removes almost all sexual desire. Below is a comparison of my sister and Elisha:

As you can see, the two are virtually identical. Luckily my sister is a brunette and Elisha is blonde (you cannot distinguish Elisha's hair on the above image due to the monochromatism of the picture), so they don't look too much alike. (NO, YOU CANNOT MEET MY SISTER YOU FILTHY LOSER.)
Having stated the above, I am now free to go watch the movie which I hear is R rated due to pornographic content (or pr0n to you losers) which I hope Elisha is a big part of (she is SOOOOOOOOO DREAMY! ^_^). I will maybe let you know of my impressions later. If you are Elisha Cuthbert, email me at ILoveElisha@poromenos.org