It’s not that I don't like
reading. Some of my favourite books/series include “Jim Henson: The Biography”,
the “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” series, and some fuckin’ third thing. But it’s quite
obvious that a lot of teenagers that
don’t give a damn about page flippin’ and would rather flip you the bird
(clever Philip... so clever).
This
“Stop, Drop, and Read” thing ended on the 6th (I think). But still,
let’s think about this. Let’s say you have some assignment that needs to be
done, and you need to work on it. NOPE! Maybe you don’t want to be forced to
read some book that you’ve never heard of before. TOO BAD, BITCH! Maybe you
think this whole fiasco is pointless, and seeing as you don’t actually get marks for reading, you are correct to
think that. Wait a second... wasn’t there another
thing that we all used to have? That was, like, 20 minutes or whatever?
Yeah,
recess! That was the shit! I remember
being in 4th grade or whatever picking up dirt and sand, putting it
into bottles or bags on the ground, and making “potions”. I remember seeing
people kicking balls into a tree just to see what would happen. I remember
walking in the field and doing absolutely
nothing.
Both
“Stop, Drop, and Read” and recess are similar, if you think about it. I think recess is
more beneficial, however, because that would give everyone a break, plus all of
the sunlight and exercise and shit. Not to mention that it would kick ass.
Imagine everyone tobogganing in the wintertime and just having a good time!
Every other season is sort of a miss, though, due to the lack of stuff to do
outside.
I’m
not entirely sure where I’m going with this whole thing, but a lot of people
probably feel the same way about reading for no particular reason. No,
seriously, why do we do this? To
better our reading skills? Is this really something we need?!
While I’m on the
subject of reading, who the fuck cares about “reading strategies” and all that
nonsense? When you read a book, you relax and read the damn book! You shouldn’t
have to think and write down a bunch
of stupid shit that’s not going to matter in the long run! You shouldn’t be
forced to read something that you have no
interest in reading! And yes, I know I’m just bitching about this stuff, but it’s
all so pointless, and not a good motivator for us students.
There
shouldn't be this much emphasis on reading in a high school curriculum. Then
again, I’m just a high school student. There’s probably tons of reasons why we’re doing this shit. There’s probably
students that could benefit from “reading skills” and all this bullshit. But I’m
not on board.
Unless,
of course, “Stop, Drop, and Read” gets a theme song that sounds like the one
from “Reading Rainbow.” That’s catchy as hell.
Prepare yourselves. We got even
more of this shit.
We
see Philip “wake up” (even though he clearly just got on the bed. He makes
noises that resemble someone going through very painful constipation while
having sex. He grabs a piece of paper from the ground.
Philip:
What’s this?
I believe that’s your doctor’s
notice you’re holding. Or is that your script? Did someone tell you to excrete your performance rather than use
actions and dialogue?
Philip:
(reading the note)Dear Philip, I
have set off on a journey.
Again, I will do you a solid and
tell you to turn your volume down. I am also obligated by the Laws of Fucking
Stupid and Desperate Humour to also
close your eyes. The following content that is about to be presented has no set
standard, but rather, a positive line
graph of awkward being that sky rockets beyond any sort of obscurity and/or
bizarre response. This is not to be compared to any assortment of films, but
rather, a thing that sort of happens in an already bad piece of
“entertainment.” Viewer discretion is advised, and may the power of Christ
compel your screen.
Philip:
(singing) Don’t stop... believin’.
Philip, for fucks sakes, you’re a dork!! What techniques are you possibly using to win over your
audience? I could build a funnier joke using those LEGO bricks behind you...
and even that insult is funnier than
that Happy Madison reddened piece of expired,
vile, and downright pathetic garbagethat has left your lips. That piece of filth is about as inspired
as that blank corkboard that has been left by your wall, and left to die... well that didn’t make sense. But
it’s just... just... I refuse to end this rant properly. Please, carry on.
Philip:
It turns out that when we went to the forest yesterday, I found a hole. And it
looked so mysterious that I decided to jump in.
How mysterious does something have to be in order to investigate it? If
you were to walk down the street, and see construction being done, and there
was a big hole in the middle of the street, what would you think? You’d probably
think “Gee, that’s kind of strange,” or “Mysterious”, if you will. “I wonder
what they’re building.” And from there, do you ask one of the workers, or do
you decide on doin’ the old “fucking killing yourself” strategy and jumping in?
Perhaps if it was “magical,” or simply “amazing”, the choice would’ve been more
obvious and understandable!
Philip:
Don’t worry; I will not do any drugs.
Why would doing drugs be Philip’s
main concern? Then again, if drug use was of the norm, then that would probably
explain Harry’s voice. Unless, of course, this line was just used as a means to
transition into yet another wacky
situation.
We
then see Harry in front a psychedelic spiral, while also being surrounded by
something that’s both indescribable and obviously unintended.
This is the unfortunately the
result of budget and time restrictions. What we are looking at, and what
follows, are the worst green/blue
screening composites you will ever
see. Again, why did people like this
shit? I mean, this was probably remarkable to everyone else because of the sort
of thing I was doing in Grade 9, but come on. Look at it.
Harry:
Whoa.
I know, right it’s so fucking mysterious!
We
see a somewhat decent 3D animation of the camera going around a golden chair.
Harry:
Wow. And I thought being able to talk was strange.
Harry, I believe the word you’re
searching for is “mysterious.”
We
cut to a half-assed king sitting in the chair. And no, we didn’t see him
sitting down. He’s just there. He laughs like he’s clearing his throat.
I guess you could say in his
throat. Emphasis on “could.” I wouldn’t go all the way with it.
King
Tory: Do you know who I am?
Harry:
The Burger King?
I have been wearing that costume
for Halloween ever since either Grade 7 or 8. Everybody keeps calling me “Burger
King.” May I remind you, though, that the Burger King doesn’t talk? So BAM!
King
Tory: Why does everybody think that? I am King Tory. It would appear that you
have fallen into our world.
Harry:
You spent all the money on this room.
King
Tory: It was worth the investment.
Investment! Ha! What a great punch
line! Ugh...
We
cut to Philip sitting on his bed.
What? No crapping sound effects?
Philip:
Let’s see... How am I going to find Harry? Oh, I know! (Music Cue: What Do You
Want from Me by Forever The Sickest Kids)
Unless you’ve seen “Diary of a
Wimpy Kid”, you probably have never
heard this song. Don’t worry, just play some good ol’ “Anaconda”, and you’ll
be all set. Gotta love modern music.
Philip
does a Google search on his iPod.
Philip:
(typing) Where... is... my... tree... frog... Harry? Dang it! What else can I
do?
Get
it? GET IT?!
Philip
talks on the phone.
Philip:
Hello? Is this Paul of the Niagara Falls Review? Yes, I’d like to report a
missing pet.
Did you just call your best friend
a "pet"? Well, you're a jerk wad, aren't you?
Philip:
His name is Harry, he’s a tree frog, and he can talk... hello? Apparently
nobody heard of a talking frog before.
If there’s someone at the Niagara
Falls Review named Paul, I apologize. I also
apologize to Kermit, and those business frogs from “The Muppets Take Manhattan.”
Philip:
I got it. I’ll call Bob.
Whom of which isn’t an actual
person. Sorry for spoiling the joke coming up. I know how much this means to
you.
Philip
is back on the phone.
Philip:
Hello? Is this Bob? Yeah, I don’t know you, but... Dang it! I thought it was
gonna work!
How did you even know his phone
number if you don’t even know him? What are you, Rain Man? That guy better not
work at K-Mart. K-Mart sucks. Oh, sorry. I forgot it was the new millennium.
What I meant was, (insert something about some stupid fucking modern movie
filled with pot and rap music).
I thought I’d talk about my
Facebook page. And by that, I mean I’m going back to 2010, the year I joined
this abomination of selfies.
My
first actual post that’s not my profile picture and some video links is
“I…hate… FRENCH CLASS!” Talk about subtle. I will give myself this, though: I actually direct a thought at something.
It seems that everyone on Facebook tells people things without claiming who
you’re actually talking too. For example, one might post “your so gay lol.” So,
are you calling some person you barely even know “gay”, or is that what you
think about your whole “Friend list”? Gotta love the information age. Thanks,
Zuckerberg!
My
second post is “12 friends already…” I must’ve thought Facebook was this huge
epiphany that should be celebrated. Do you wanna know how many shits people
gave about my “accomplishment?” About 12. What a coincidence.
My
third post is “Just watched an episode of South Park. Cartman and a midget
lol.” That “lol” doesn’t make any sense in terms of grammar at all… but at least there’s a period.
Also, I seemed to have performed a Twitter-ism: I posted what I was doing at
that moment, despite that is had no
significance on my life. It also doesn’t seem to showcase anything. So… was
I trying to brag? Oh, man. I bet I
made so many people jealous.
My
fourth post is “You gotta be kidding me. NOBODY ELSE HATES FRENCH CLASS?!” OK,
you don’t need to shout. I’m sure everyone
hated French class. The reason that no one responded to you is because you’re a
dork who tells on people who calls others “gay!” Couldn’t you do something more
socially acceptable? Like bitch about it on some blog that no one but my
Writer’s Craft teacher will read? Why couldn’t you do that?! So stupid.
My
fifth post is “Goin’ to bed soon. We got American cereal at our house. J)
Oh. Cool story, bro. Although, I wouldn’t mind eating some Trix or Count
Chocula right now.
My
sixth post is “I’ll be going to the dentist soon.” What is the response that
you want? Do you want people to wish you good
luck?! Do you think your life is some show from PBS KIDS?! And you wonder why people didn’t give that post any attention.
“Viewers Like You” my ass.
The
seventh, and last one I’ll be post I’ll be talking about, is… brace yourself… “hi”.
Hi. Don’t you have some more French to do? Or are you here to complain some
more about it?
This is the continuation of my
little “No-Hat Rant”. It’s a little shorter, ‘cause I’m lazy, and, frankly, I
got a deadline to meet. But first, let me clear a few things up.
Previously
(in other blog posts), I’ve kinda given teenagers a bad name (well, not really,
since no one reads this freakin’ thing, so I guess I’m safe [by the way,
Microsoft suggested the word “foreskin” to replace the word “Freakin’”]). I’ve
said that teenagers are “fucking terrible human beings”. Which, they are, but you might run into a decent
person sometimes, so I guess there’s some
hope. I doubt it, but whatever. Again, sometimes.
And no, I’m not going to call them “gay”, because I happen to be one of the
somewhat decent people. So, I’m “decent.”
Pictured: Still Satan
Moving
on, my Writer’s Craft teacher commented the following on my previous post:
“…You don't deal with the other major
objection to gay wearing (yes, that was a typo), that it is just good manners and respectful to take your hat off
indoors. I sat in a lecture once where the prof refused to continue until a
couple guys removed their ball caps.”
Hmm…
waiting for two grown men to take off their hats because of “respect” is kind
of like two university students using the “Buddy System” when going to the
washroom. Or if your manager at Walmart or wherever puts you on a time-out for
taking a picture of some stupid fucking dress that goes viral for some fucking
reason.
By the way, I
thought the dress was periwinkle, copper, and gold. But I’m not going to have a
huge argument about it. I happen to have a #life.
Yeah, not wearing
a hat in school is kind of a
“respect” thing, isn’t it? I guess people deserve that sort of thing. I mean,
you can insult people, litter, talk while the teacher’s talking, use your phone
while the teacher’s talking, destroy the washrooms, beat the shit out of each
other, damage the computer monitors in the computer lab, not recycle, swear,
skip class, always be late, not pay attention in class, be an overall asshole, and make an ass out of myself on stage
by complaining about everything right in front of the principal, staff, and all of the students watching… but as
long as you’re not wearing a hat, it’s all good.
Oh,
and all that stuff? That’s you. Most of you, anyways. It’s those kinds of
people that the “Good People Society” should throw apricots at. If people were
to stop doing all those things, that would respectful, and that’ll probably be
nice and all, but… wearing a hat? Really?
Big
shout out to our principal, by the way. She’s got a good sense of humour.
Although, is there any way you could make the washrooms cleaner? Please?
“A Frog Story” is a foreign short
film from my hometown of Niagara Falls, Ontario. It was a school project for a
boy’s Grade 9 Drama class. Supposedly, people “liked” it. The boy thought it
was shit. That boy was me. Let’s analyse this crap.
Narrator:
There will be times in your life, times in your life...
From what I remember, I think there
had to be some vocal thingys in our plays (in this case, video). These included
repetition, echoing, and so forth. It’s not effective in any sort of way. This
whole thing is half assed. That’s what happens when you wait ‘till you don’t
have much time to do something.
Narrator:
People might, might hurt you. But you, you shouldn't fush.
Yeah, I know. The onscreen text
reads “fuss”, but I’m terrible when it comes to ”s” sounds. Even after speech
therapy I took when I went to public school. I hope that was free, ‘cause it
certainly didn’t work.
Music
cue. Text says “Studio 64 Presents”
Studio 64 was what my drama theatre
was called. Back then (and until 2014), it was kinda crappy. It consisted of no seats and a “stage” consisting of
large, black blocks. Npw, the theatre is getting a huge renovation, with actual theatre seats, and a huge ass screen.
This video premiered on a TV in the theatre, by the way.
Text
says “A Gangster Fart Production”
Subtle. The name “Gangster Fart”
came about back in 2009 when I created an account on Go!Animate, a website
where you can create free animations. But that’s a story for maybe another
post. Either way, “Gangster Fart” was... was... yeah.
Text
says “A Philip Robertson Film”
Ha! Good one.
Text
says “A Frog Story” in a stupid fucking font.
At least it’s not Comic Sans.
Narrator:
When I was young, I spent most of my time by myself. But that all changed three
years ago.We were in Toronto, on
vacation. And we went to what’s basically a reptile zoo. I didn’t really enjoy
it that much, until we went to the gift stop.
What’s a gift stop? Is that where
you go when you have to pee and buy souvenirs? Perhaps I was trying to say
“Gift shop.” Yeah, probably.
No, stalkers. I don't live here anymore.
Narrator:
I saw a little tree frog, and he was looking right at me. My dad must’ve saw
that, because the next thing you know, he bought it for me. (Establishing shot
of house with overly warm colour correction, followed by tilted camera shots of
me walking into my room. The camera quality is garbage.
I remember getting the camera I
used for this back in February 2010. I kinda forced myself to buy this one. I probably just really wanted a camcorder.
Narrator:
Now, it’s been three years, and we have spent every day together.
I guess I didn’t have a life back
then.
Narrator:
We have so much in common. We both talk...
Philip:
So, where did you come from, anyway?
Harry
the Tree Frog: Umm... the stork.
I don’t think I knew what people
thought was funny back then. The evidence is right there. It’s probably a lot
easier to make people laugh now. All I have to do is call random shit “gay”,
and vomit up a river of profanity. And that’s how you get famous on Vine.
Narrator:
Play...
Philip:
Hey, catch the ball!
The
ball “flies” slowly at Harry.
Harry:
BUUHGH
Is this tree frog a radio announcer
from the 50s, or a crack addict?
Narrator:
Eat flies...
Philip
“eats a fly” for some reason.
Philip:
BWAAAAA
Narrator:
It’s like we're the same person.
Philip:
AWWWWW
What do you mean you don’t feel any emotional connection? We’re obviously a
comedy duo! Like Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider!
Narrator:
This... is what follows.
Philip
wakes up and pulls his arms forward and makes a sound like he just took a dump.
Grade 9 Drama student, ladies and
gentlemen.
Philip:
Good morning, Harry.
Harry
is sitting on my computer chair with a hand sticking out, of which is inside
Harry’s throat.
Harry:
Good morning, Philip. What shall we do today?
I don't know, Harry. I think a trip
to the doctor is in order. Or, at least, a trip to YouTube to look up how to do
decent visual effects. Yeah... this whole thing was rushed.
Philip:
Well, I was thinking that we could sit in the grass and...
Harry:
Philip?
Philip:
Yes?
Harry:
It’s winter.
More proof that I need to go
outside and face reality.
Philip:
Hmm...
Harry:
Oh, no. Not that. There is absolutely no way that I will go...
Headphone users be warned. Just
throwing that out there.
Music
cue: “It’s The End of the World as we Know It” by Great Big Sea. We cut to
Philip and Harry at my old school, Battlefield, doing, what else?
Harry:
Toboooogniing! UHH HUUHH UHH CUHHHH
Somebody needs to lay off the
smokes.
Harry
is thrown airborne.
Harry:
HUUH HUUUUUWUUUGH HU
Would it matter if he crashed and
died? It already sounds like he’s gonna go either way.
Philip
runs over to Harry.
Philip:
Oh my god! Harry! Harry! Are you alright?
Seriously. Turn your volume down.
Right now.
Harry:
(with the most distorted audio ever) FROGS... DON’T LIKE... THE COLD... YOU MOROOON!!
Well, that’s a lie. Kermit doesn't
seem to care. By the way, watch out for the icy patch. ;)
Philip
and Harry walk away with puppeteering that screams “I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE.”
That sound in the background is Jim
Henson rolling around in his grave. Oh, wait, he’s cremated. Whatever.
Philip:
(sigh) Alright, let’s go to the park.
Harry:
As soon as my legs unthaw, I’ll consider it.
It’s the humour that makes this not
work. Among other things.
