My Life is One Long Rerun of Arrested Development

Today, I was forced to go through the wonderfully awkward proceedings of watching my Dad break up with his girlfriend. Normally, this wouldn't be too bad, if it wasn't for the fact he was doing so to be with his OTHER girlfriend. As in, he was dating two women simultaneously. The fact that, as of yet, I haven't packed my shit up and run off to New York is in itself a fucking miracle.

I talked with Matt about it, as these days, it seems he's one of the few people I can talk to capable of rubbing two brain cells together to light a match. We touched on pretty much every family member available, when I came to the horrid realisation that my family is a member by member replica of the Bluths.

That's right. My life IS Arrested Development.

Don't believe me? Well, my father is an egotistical womanizer, mo mother is manipulative and overly dependent, my older brother is self-absorbed and has false notions of self-entitlement, and my two younger ones are both immature even for their age. And so for me? Obviously, I'm Michael, the only one who actually DOES anything around the house apparently. And I mean BOTH houses here.

Although to be fair, I am Lyndsey sometimes. What can I say? I'm a tramp. I've long ago come to terms with that.

The worst part about all this is that, for the time being, I'm stuck like this. There is no possible way for me to bail on this Titanic. Even if I wanted to, if I ever did leave, the house would turn in to a pit of squalour and dirty hockey bags. So I suppose I can suffer the fools gladly for another two years until my college time is up. Just three more semesters, three more semesters...

Anyways, moving along here, in order for me to avoid the full scale blowup of half my Dad's girlfriends, I went to see Saw V. Don't judge me here, bitches, I only enjoyed it half-heartedly. Was it entertaining? In a way, it was. If the Nightmare on Elm Street Series taught me nothing, it's that gory, cartoony and personalised death sequences does the super-happy-fun-times make, even if I was watching it with my feet curled up onto my chair, and my hands over my eyes when they weren't busy popping Reese's Pieces and Diet Pepsi into my mouth.

My one huge complaint about is that, well, the whole Saw franchise has become pretty paint by numbers, where the whole picture is painted blood red. Imagine that past four Saws, only with different people and different various ways with which to repaint the rooms in mismatched shades of bodily fluid. There's a storyline, sure, but it's so thin you could pretty much cut it with safety scissors. And as for the twist ending? Not so. The conclusion is so blindingly obvious, it's like picking Chi Chi Larue out of a group of Almish folk. No more metaphores, I swear.

Is it worth seeing? Well, if you want to go to the theatres on Halloween, I'd say it's a step above High School Musical 3: Having a Screaming Bitch Fit Until Your Parents Give You Money, though you may as well wait until Zack and Miri Make A Porno if enjoy watching anything woth two shits.