Sunday, September 30, 2012

Willy Wonka and the Children Factory

The Oompa Loompas achieve that orange glow
by regularly bathing in children's blood.

I know that Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has already inspired two movies. But I really think a third should be made. A horror-version of the beloved children's story. I mean, why not? Snow White, Hansel & Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, and Alice in Wonderland, have inspired recent horror movies. Move over Freddy Kruger, Jason and Micheal, you've got nothing on the horrors Willy Wonka's got in store for you at his "factory". 


Willy Wonka and the Children Factory will be about a crazy candy maker, who has hidden a Golden Ticket in five chocolate bars being distributed to anonymous locations worldwide, and that the discovery of a Golden Ticket would grant the owner with passage into Willy Wonka's factory and a lifetime supply of Wonka products. The first four are discovered by self-centered, bratty children: an obese, gluttonous boy named Augustus Gloop, a spoiled brat named Veruca Salt, a record-breaking gum chewer named Violet Beauregarde, and Mike Teavee, an aspiring gangster who is unhealthily obsessed with television. The last one is found by golden heart-ed, golden haired, Charlie Bucket.

The following day, the children gather at Wonka's factory and are welcomed inside by the candy maker himself, who gives them a tour through his factory. There, they learn of the unseen workers lurking around the factory; small, goblin beings known as Oompa-Loompas, who work in exchange for a mystery substance. While touring through a room designed as a meadow made of candy, Augustus Gloop is sucked through a pipe while drinking from a river of chocolate, resulting in his body exploding from the built up pressure in the tube. His body is circulated into the river of chocolate. Not long afterward, Wonka unveils a product he's working on; chewing gum designed to replace any need for cooking or daily meals, hopefully eliminating the gluttonous attitude of western culture, which is stolen by Violet Beauregarde. She winds up inflating into a giant blueberry that must be juiced immediately, the Oompa-Loompas sink their fangs into her, to suck out the juices. However once they begin sucking, they can't stop until the girl is completely dry. The tour leaves behind her dry, shrived corpse, as it continues. Before long Veruca Salt falls down a garbage chute, while trying to snatch one of Willy Wonka's specially-trained squirrels used for selecting the nuts baked into Wonka bars after being dismissed as a "bad nut." The garbage chute leads to a furnace where she burns alive. Soon, Wonka reveals one of his products in development; chocolate bars that can be transported to customers via television, which quickly captures Mike Teavee's interest. He escapes to test out the device on himself, only to be shrunken to an millimeter tall. While trying to flag down Wonka for help, Mike encounters a spider web, and is eaten my a spider much bigger than he. Charlie, the only child who has not been eliminated, is offered the position of heir to Willy Wonka's factory. A thrilled Charlie rides in Wonka's glass flying elevator to overlook the entire factory and it's workings. Here he discovers that the secret ingredient in all of Wonka's confectionery is children, usually those abandoned and homeless, picked up from the streets. Charlie flees the factory, vowing to tell the police. Only to find his entire family has starved to death in his absence. For time in the factory does not pass at the same rate as the outside world.

The End.....?

I think the ending leaves a great opening for sequels. What do you think?

**Thank you to Mr J, who helped come up with this idea. 

Friday, September 14, 2012

I still hope they get AIDS

I work a few jobs. There’s my day job which in an office, my freelance makeup artist job which is done anywhere the clients want, and my volunteer job which is done anywhere my laptop and I are. 

My volunteer job was to create a website for a local non-for-profit (that would definitely appreciate not being connected with a blog titled anything “Suicidal”, and then to maintain it forever. Forever. I frequently hate this job, as I’m sure other web designers would agree, because sometimes my “client” asks for ridiculous things. Like redesigning the entire website based on a fucking postcard they recently purchased at a gas station in Arkansas, even though they are in NO WAY AFFILIATED TO THE STATE OF ARKANSAS. They’re local. NEW MEXICO local. But I’m getting upset, and there’s no need for that.

When they ask for ridiculous things, I swear, a lot. I get on my laptop, start trying to make their website still achieve its purpose of advertising their mission while accommodating whatever artist whims they have that week. Since I’m usually at home while I do this, the entire time, I mutter curses to the entire organization. The most common curse being, “ I hope they get syphilis, and they rot, fester from the inside out. I hope they go undiagnosed, until parts of their face falls off, and anyone who looks at them knows. I hope their genitals shrivel up and drop into a sewage hole.” Happy things like that.

Last night, I was again asked to redesign the entire website, but I had a deadline, a deadline of “before tomorrow”. I was so pissed, but I didn’t have time for usual witches cursing. All I had time to do was scream “AIDS! AIDS! AIDS!” 

Mr. J overhead me, “what do you need?” He thought I meant that I needed “aides” to help me with something.

He’s probably a better person than me.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

I'm on to your ruse

I think my friend is trying to convince me I am insane.

The friend I went to visit last month (Corlene) and I had spent hours discussing all of our former school mates, and what they had done with their lives. She kept bringing up one girl, Nell. I had, and still don't, no idea who she was talking about.

Corlene: "You remember, Nell. Tall, blonde hair, pretty eyes, Nell."

Me: "You could be talking about anyone... I don't remember her."

Corlene: "Of course you remember her, a little on the pudgy side. She wasn't in the core group, but she would sit with us at lunch sometimes."

Me: "On the days I was sick?"

Corlene: "No. Remember! She was always so sweet."

Me: "Are you sure you didn't meet her after I moved?"

Corlene: "I'm positive you knew her, you had biology together."

I was stumped. Biology had been one of my favorite classes, but I still had no memory of "Nell". I shrugged it off, and had Corlene tell me what Nell had been up to anyway. I then promptly forgot all about this mystery girl.

Until she sent me a friend request on Facebook.

I'm skeptical. Mr. J and his brother created a fake Facebook account, to convice Mr. J's nieces (the brother's daughters) that they had a younger sister. This sister was horribly deformed, and so chose to live in their mother's attic. I'll admit, I help add depth to the deception, by developing the online account, adding "Likes" and photos of socks (she doesn't like pictures taken of her face, but is proud of her sock collection). So I know just how easy it would be to create a fake account.

I mean look at the profile photo. That's obviously not anyone I went to school with. Everyone I went to school with became drug-addicts, whores, or got really, really fat.

At least that's what Corlene and I decided.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Yes, I am a little socially awkward. Next question?

I know I shouldn't post about my day job, but I don't like being told what not to do. (I take pictures of my other job, so why not?)

A co-worker stopped by my office, and said, "You've been pretty quiet over here."

I didn't know the appropriate response to such a comment, so said the first thing that came to mind, "That's because I have mouse DNA."

He stared at me, mouth slightly agape.

"You know, because I'm as quiet as a mouse...?" I tried to rationalize what I'd just said.

He continued to stare at me.

"This is why I don't talk much." I defeatedly stated.

"You're a little weird, aren't you?" He asked, as he walked away.


What would have been the appropriate responsed to "You've been been pretty quiet over here"?

Monday, September 10, 2012

It's good to have goals.

Not a picture I took. Stolen from here. Without the permission of tf-oto.
Mr J and I went for a hike yesterday. Like most people, I'm sure, we stop occasionally to point out wildlife that catches our eye. Look at that bird/squirrel/tree/cactus/grizzly about to eat us/etc..

Yesterday it was -

Mr. J: "Look at that lizard!"

Jane: "Is it pooping?"

Mr J: "It's HUGE!"

We stood still, and watched a tiny lizard take a giant shit. I guess I can cross that off my bucket list.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Pear Phone

This pig is under pear pressure
I recently buckled to peer pressure and bought an iphone 4S. This is not a post about how much I love my phone. Because it's been a month, and eh, we've both decided to just be friends. And not even close ones. Like, only occasionally "Like" each other's statuses when they show up in our Facebook feed, friends.

Where was I going with this?

Oh yes, peer pressure. I didn't want those dickheads my peers to know that they had pressured me into buying into their cult a iphone. So when one of them asked me to show them my new phone, I lied.
This is the lie I told.

Me: "This is my new phone, pretty cool right?"

Person #1 in group: "Is that the iPhone? Which model is it?"

Me:  "Oh, no, it's an aPhone, they look just like the iPhone but are so much cheaper."

Person #2: "What's the aPhone? I don't think I've heard of that."

Person #1 "Who makes it?"

Me: "I'm not sure who makes it. I bought it on eBay. It took forever to get here. I think in came from China."

Person #1 & #2: nod in understanding

Person #1: "So it's a knock-off?"

Me: "I guess,  but it does everything the iPhone does. I even have Suri."

Person #1: "You have Siri?"

Me: "Well, I have Suri. It's like Siri, but a guy, and British"

At this point in my story, please note that you CAN change the settings on your phone to have male British Siri, a female Australian Siri or a female American setting. Anyone who has played with the settings on their phone would know this. But apparently the average macintosh user does not like to customize their software.

Person #2: "Nu-uh, let me see!"

Me: hands over phone

Person #2: talking into phone "Suri, where would be a good place to get lunch?'

Siri/Suri: in a male British voice "Here are the restaurants close to you that serve lunch."

Person #2: "No way! That's so cool! I want one!"

Person #1: "How much was it? Where did you get it? eBay?"

Me: "It was about $35 dollars with the shipping."

Person #2: "I'm going to tell my husband about this one. He's going to flip! We could afford to get one for each of the kids."


Yes my puppets. Believe my ridiculous lies! Tell your family. Eventually, someone you tell, will inform you of what a complete boob you are to believe such things.

Pig Pear Pressure Picture was taken by Fredrik Bj√∂reman 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Let's be honest...

I just got a e-mail from Netflix, letting me know that season 8 of Grey's Anatomy is now available streaming. Not just one, but two e-mails.

The "cool" (and I use that word very loosely) part of me wants to scoff. Netflix, why do you think this news is noteworthy enough for an e-mail notification? What about my viewing habits makes you think I'd even be remotely interested in watching that?

But then the honest part of me is freaking out, because I can't wait to watch episode after episode, putting off sleep until I've seen every single one! And of course Netflix thinks this something I'd be extremely interested in, and worth e-mailing about, I've seen all of the other seasons this way!!!

Do you think I need to restock on tissues for this view bonanza? Or is the one box I already have at home enough?