WHEN: 9:45pm EST, May 26th, 2012

WHERE: In my room in my apartment in Portland, ME (Alderaan)

FORMAT: DVD on half of a 19″ computer monitor.

COMPANY: None

PHYSICAL AND MENTAL STATE: Tired, aching feet.

OBSERVATIONS OF NOTE:

-Charlie did the Nazi salute thing during Rob’s voice-over about her!  How did I not notice that before?

-Rob changed his sweater almost immediately after Barry insulted it.  Again, how is it that I didn’t notice that before?

-Rob jumps to the phone as if he is desperate for a call from someone. Probably Laura.

-Where did the box with the book with Allison’s mom’s number come from? He walks in through the door with it, but from where? A storage unit? The attic? Where?

Drawing Creepy Pictures of High Fidelity:

For this viewing I drew pictures inspired by High Fidelity in MS Paint while I watched the movie.  I had the movie in my sight-line the whole time.  I just had MS Paint on one side of the computer screen and High Fidelity on the other.  I tried to keep my drawings in my periphery, while I focused on the movie.  The results are creepy as fuck.

Shall we view them?

No. Rob doesn’t have long flowing hair. That is just the turning record from the beginning of the movie. With Rob’s freakish face peering over it, wearing headphones.

Here, Rob mopes about his girlfriends past, while smoking a cigarette.

Barry’s fiendish delight.

The Cosby Sweater.

Dick.

No, that isn’t a small dog attacking a pockmarked penis on a string, that is Marie DeSalle.

Laura.

Liz.  I am almost proud of this one.  Almost.

Rob is a bad person.  A fact he ponders while drinking beer out of a Pilsner glass.

Rob on the Phone.

The mysterious 7 shirt.  WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Rob’s apartment.

No, that is not a demon drawn onto the bottom half of a bikini.  It is Rob’s pig shirt peeking out of his jacket. Though I can see why you would think otherwise.

Hmmm?  What?

Charlie, with her robot and creepy mannequin.

Unshaven Rob in front of a bridge.

The Little Skatefuckers

Accidental Richard Nixon

Barry’s rendition of “Let’s Get it On.”

Conclusions:

Something is horribly horribly wrong.