It's absolutely horrifying. Every time I see one of those toddler fashion shows I want to vomit up my intestines through my navel. In what universe is this acceptable? What kind of parent must you be in order to serve up your child to every pedo in the world? What kind of irresponsible adult must you be for that thought never to cross your mind?
Past the obvious 'icky' feeling I got from the film in general, it's a pretty shitty documentary. There's no thesis statement, no core value the director/producers are trying to pass down to the audience. It abruptly ends with no more conclusion than a few cards detailing the main character's life (and it's bare bones [insert model pun here]). I wouldn't recommend Girl Model even if you are someone who wishes to be revolted. Perhaps if you're trying to scare yourself shitless by how clueless some people are. I don't know. I really can't imagine in what context this film existing or anyone watching it -much less talking about it- are acceptable.
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I've been back from testing for a few hours. It's been a long time since I sat back and allowed music to elicit a response. Probably since back in early 2011 when I was writing music reviews and stumbled upon Tennis and typed up an interview. Doing interviews was fun; I do miss that from my forays into journalism. I don't miss deadlines, dickhead editors, and advertising reps. Even though I did jump all the way to editor-in-chief in only a few months, and also take the Alexa ranking up over two hundred thousand slots -when the company got bought out the place was transformed into a pile of shit only catering to the bottom line. Such is the way of journalism, I suppose.
So fuck it, now I talk about how I'm going insane and make zero monies.
Better than sitting in a hammock beneath some moneybags' scrotum, scratching when the master says it itches.
I have been listening to Crystal Castles for the last quarter hour. Wait no; now it's been two quarters of an hour. I remember when I first heard Crystal Castles a couple years ago. I had just gotten out of my latest long-term relationship and I thought the band was horrible. Now I think it's kind of good, in a relaxing, 'I'm totally listening this because it's original and no one else ever listens to them' sort of way. I also sampled Kap Bambino and You Love Her Coz She's Dead. They are quite good. I can't predict my spectrum of musical habits very well. It generally starts out with indie electronic, then transitions to indie rock, electropop, mainstream electronic (disco, trance, dubstep), then right to symphonic metal, then begins to arc around again into melodic metal, hard rock, rock, alt rock, then right back into indie rock. I've repeated this same cycle twice in the last two years, and now I'm honing back in on indie electronic. I'm sure I'll have King Charles on my Android in no time. It's fucking predictable.
I hate being predictable. Here is a picture of a German woman drinking beer. Also, boobs.
Much better.
The first day of neuropsych testing involved a half hour meeting with an overcharging prick who repeated to me all the information I'd already written down on the pre-screening questionnaire. Then I got to answer 567 true-false questions for two hours. It was actually the most fun I've had in a long time.
I'm fucking joking.
It was retarded.
My answers get tabulated then compared against ~2000 other people with psychosis and hopefully some sort of profile magically blossoms from the rectum of whatever overpriced computer system I'm paying a shitload of money to rent.
My head hurts too much to keep writing. I doubt Crystal Castles is really helping. Perhaps I'll go put on The Knife or Royksopp. Or Daft Punk's Tron OST. That shit is golden.
Past the obvious 'icky' feeling I got from the film in general, it's a pretty shitty documentary. There's no thesis statement, no core value the director/producers are trying to pass down to the audience. It abruptly ends with no more conclusion than a few cards detailing the main character's life (and it's bare bones [insert model pun here]). I wouldn't recommend Girl Model even if you are someone who wishes to be revolted. Perhaps if you're trying to scare yourself shitless by how clueless some people are. I don't know. I really can't imagine in what context this film existing or anyone watching it -much less talking about it- are acceptable.
------------
I've been back from testing for a few hours. It's been a long time since I sat back and allowed music to elicit a response. Probably since back in early 2011 when I was writing music reviews and stumbled upon Tennis and typed up an interview. Doing interviews was fun; I do miss that from my forays into journalism. I don't miss deadlines, dickhead editors, and advertising reps. Even though I did jump all the way to editor-in-chief in only a few months, and also take the Alexa ranking up over two hundred thousand slots -when the company got bought out the place was transformed into a pile of shit only catering to the bottom line. Such is the way of journalism, I suppose.
So fuck it, now I talk about how I'm going insane and make zero monies.
Better than sitting in a hammock beneath some moneybags' scrotum, scratching when the master says it itches.
I have been listening to Crystal Castles for the last quarter hour. Wait no; now it's been two quarters of an hour. I remember when I first heard Crystal Castles a couple years ago. I had just gotten out of my latest long-term relationship and I thought the band was horrible. Now I think it's kind of good, in a relaxing, 'I'm totally listening this because it's original and no one else ever listens to them' sort of way. I also sampled Kap Bambino and You Love Her Coz She's Dead. They are quite good. I can't predict my spectrum of musical habits very well. It generally starts out with indie electronic, then transitions to indie rock, electropop, mainstream electronic (disco, trance, dubstep), then right to symphonic metal, then begins to arc around again into melodic metal, hard rock, rock, alt rock, then right back into indie rock. I've repeated this same cycle twice in the last two years, and now I'm honing back in on indie electronic. I'm sure I'll have King Charles on my Android in no time. It's fucking predictable.
I hate being predictable. Here is a picture of a German woman drinking beer. Also, boobs.
Much better.
The first day of neuropsych testing involved a half hour meeting with an overcharging prick who repeated to me all the information I'd already written down on the pre-screening questionnaire. Then I got to answer 567 true-false questions for two hours. It was actually the most fun I've had in a long time.
I'm fucking joking.
It was retarded.
My answers get tabulated then compared against ~2000 other people with psychosis and hopefully some sort of profile magically blossoms from the rectum of whatever overpriced computer system I'm paying a shitload of money to rent.
My head hurts too much to keep writing. I doubt Crystal Castles is really helping. Perhaps I'll go put on The Knife or Royksopp. Or Daft Punk's Tron OST. That shit is golden.
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