An Oscar Post

These people are actors. They spend all their professional lives being other people. It is no wonder that so many of them seem dead and lifeless when playing real life. We only see most of them running around in Wagnerian plots revolving around ridiculous plot items, like a pistol that should have been disposed of immediately into a river. If I spent all my workday running around being a histrionic nutcase, rather like Aggro Girlfriend of the Republic of Dogs, I would probably want a quiet life. Hell, it may not seem like it from here, but I am actually a rather reserved and humble in real life. Several of you may have experienced the quietude that is the genius in the walking world. Those of you would know the inherent levels of truthiness in which that sentence resides. Those levels are rather like the many splendored layers of Hell and, perhaps even, Heck.

While we are on that subject, I would like to say that I have yet to see an example of hell in cinema that was even remotely spooky or even close to what I imagine Hell would be. As far as I can tell, Hell is my boss' computer. Allow me to rephrase, Hell for my boss' computer begins when he logs on and upon logging off the computer is allowed to think that it has finally attained the sweet release of death. Every morning, however, it is 'haha, fooled you!' time.

I don't really know what hell for me would be. I can remember some moments that stretched into nigh infinite levels of time through embarassment, but that isn't so bad later. Those moments aren't even so bad then. There was a pretty bad day in Denmark, but that was only bad because of the road rash. It was fun in some ways, because people left me an entire train car to myself and the conductors wouldn't punch my ticket. It isn't often that you get to walk into an embassy looking like you were just dragged behind a car for a mile or so. What was I writing about? Oh yeah, hell.

Hell is other people.

The Untitled Onion Movie

Holy Crap. The next Michael Ironsides, Nick Chinlund, is due to star in The Untitled Onion Movie allegedly due out this year. Two things are important in that sentence. The first is that I have declared Nick Chinlund to be the man who will fill Michael Ironsides' shoes in the future. The second is that there is going to be an Onion movie. What the hell. That will either be comedic gold or an utter failure. I can't wait to read The Onion AV Club's review of that.

Editing Unfinished Posts: On Subtlety

I was rooting through my unfinished posts and I found this one. At the time, I thought the whole thing was hilarious. Since then, it has become apparent that maybe I am being way too subtle. Or that I am not really all that funny, but no one wants to let me in on that joke. I think this a comment on Pop Renaissance and I decided to turn it into a post about one of the ways I make jokes.

You walked into yet another comment line wherein AG tries to out-tough the boys. I was being extremely subtle (that was actually a joke about how I don't like Mondays either) and AG missed the joke entirely. I suppose I should explain it to Aggro Girlfriend.

By making a joke about Morrissey I was clearly trying to poke and prod PopRen because we all know how much he loves Morrissey. There is ample evidence on this blog, and on mine as well, in the February posts. Since nothing helps a bad mood like sharing, clearly I was in a bad mood. The day I made the comment and tried to share my bad mood with PopRen, instead hitting Aggro Girlfriend, was a Monday. I was not actually making an attack on Morrissey so much as I was making a very circumspect claim of enjoying the song, "I Don't Like Mondays" by The Boomtown Rats.

Clearly, we must never allow Aggro Girlfriend to be president or she will quickly doom us all to a nuclear hell.

Actually, I still find it extremely funny when AG tries to get all tough on people. In part because I bet in real life she is this totally sweet, normal person and hardly says a mean word to anyone. I bet she helps old men across the street and stuff. My mental image of her while she blogs is a standard female body with a head that is in frenetic motion. The speed at which her head flips around keeps her hair in equilibrium with gravity so that it is suspended in air and completely occludes her face. The center of the mass of whirling hair is a blur due to the speed at which her heads flails. There is so much that aggravates her on the internet that it seems to whip her into a frenzy.

I agree that a lot of the people on the internet are both mind-bogglingly stupid and maddeningly hateful but I try to let it wash away as soon as I unplug. Ultimately, I think AG gets so worked up is because she is such a nice person that it infuriates her when other people are shitheads. Or shitbags. Or cobags in the insulting, non-endearing way.

To conclude, nice try with the hard core tough chick routine, but we all know you're a nice babushka.

The Hee-Haw Hormone

I am required to read a lot of interesting stuff for work. I am also required to read a lot of bunk for work. Recently(30 seconds ago), I have been reading Andrew (A little bit doughy) Sullivan's April 2, 2000 NY Times piece "The He Hormone." The article is up in its entirety and I have read more than a bit of it in my endless fact checking quest at work. Comments have been made that I am more than a little aggressive. Comments have been made that generously describe me as cocky. Comments have been made that I am hugely endowed.* There are tests that can be performed that will determine your average level of testosterone. I heard a cool bit on This American Life wherein the studio staff were tested for their testosterone levels. There was a pool as to who would have the highest level and everyone was asked to justify their picks. One person picked the pregnant woman, someone else chose the bossy boss and someone chose a feisty female colleague. In the end, it was a woman who had the highest levels and she was really perturbed by this. She felt totally different and disappointed somehow in the results because she didn't feel, to paraphrase, cavemany.

I thought this was a little lame. It is one thing to get tested and quite another to allow those results to carry weight.** You are still the same person you were before you had the test, so any changes in your personality after the test are essentially fake. They are based on pointless information. It is a bit like cancer or HIV. Getting cancer doesn't change who you are, it just changes aspects of your life. I think I am wandering here a bit.***

IQ tests and testosterone levels are silly benchmarks for other people to judge you and then sell you medication. Hell, I took an IQ test when I was a young lad, but I have never seen the results. I know I am a genius because I have only been beaten in speed, perception and analysis a couple of times in my life. Some people may think that my experiences are skewed due to my upbringing.# I also know that I am smarter than the average bear because I wear clothes and don't shit in the woods unless I am camping. You are who you are and if you don't like that, then change. A test doesn't mean crap.

Some people think I am totally aggressive and ridiculously arrogant. Some people call these traits indicative of testosterone overdosing. I say that is bullshit. In these times, the increasing anonymity of the average life of anyone on the planet requires people to either accept their lot, get a blog or get on a reality show. Since, I never want to be a reality show turbowad, I blog. And make outrageous claims in regards to my abilities, both mental and physical. The truly crazy aspect of this whole setup is that I never make a claim I can't meet.

More revenge stories later involving beer bottles and crickets.

*Ok, so that last one was mine, but penis enlargement is the entire point of the internet as far as I can tell.
**I also choose to disbelieve all scales, because they are clearly biased.
***When don't I wander?
#These are the people who claim that a battle of wits with a rock is no contest. But these are the same people who never tried to win a staring contest with the same rock.

Work is SO Hard!

I had to remember to bring in my sunglass clips today. In case you haven't heard, my office has three windows. It is an odd shape and over the atrium of the building, so the afternoon sun shines right through the building and into my face. It is a hard knock life, I tell you what. Only one of my THREE windows opens and the sun shines through the building into my face for half the day. Sigh. Woe is me, bitches.

My boss thinks I look like a jazz musician with my office clothes and my shades. Just wait till I bust out my bitchin sax solo at 517 PM.

DL Hughley Nailed It!

IF you get HBO and didn't watch Real Time with Bill Maher, then you suck. D.L. Hughley went off on Bill Maher when Bill started talking about how George W. Bush is a man of faith and Christian. D.L. ripped Bill a new arsehole on this with a quick rant on how Bush and his people are not following the Christian ideals at all. It was really nice to see Bill one-upped in this. I like Bill Maher and I will continue to watch his show, but he does tend to use the Republican vocabulary in ways that I find detrimental. If we refuse to let these people control the debate, they will start to lose ground with their fake issues.

Messages from My Mouth!

My three most recent fortune cookie fortunes:

Every woman is at heart a mother; every man is at heart a bachelor.

You find beauty in ordinary things. Do not lose this ability.

Your biggest virtue is your modesty.

So, one out of three isn't bad.

Perspective

I watched ... nevermind. I was totally about to write a post about stuff I'll never experience (it was inspired by the movie Whale Rider and some stuff I saw written on a car), but instead I have been derailed. Go figure. I have found the solution to the world's impending energy crisis. All we need to do is harness the Gilette company's scientist to work on cold fusion and our problems would be solved. Those dudes are using fusion and high tech nano-regulators or a super samo-flanges to engineer razors that will flay the skin from your connective tissue from two states away. If we could apply their brain power and laborotories to solving the elusive mysteries of cold fusion, we would be synthesizing molecules and creating unlimited power for eons to come. Dude, I could have a vacation home on MARS.

Random Music Sometimes Surprises Me

From Bad Religion’s Leaders and Followers

There's the image of a man
Who commands a high opinion
But he hides his hatred with a sheepish grin

And beside him flanking closely
Are the boisterous hollow masses
Who lap up whatever trickles in

This intercourse of nature,
This vulgar social pastime
Reflects the lowest mark of our progress

And the few who ride peripheral
Maintain subtle advantage
Fighting hard to abstain and redress

Do you know your place
In the big charade?
Are you more than they?

Leaders and followers
Leaders and followers

Recognition by proximity
And a brand new face
Just a smidgen of success pie
And a pinch of social grace
You can play with the big boys
Or you can tell them what to do
But sooner or later there's another one like you

The voyeuristic public
Of which we're all a part
Maintains perspective on the human play

And while many have desires
Of joining in the show
Many turn and go the other way

Tell me do you know your place
In the big parade?
Are you fear and shame?

Shameless Once Again

Did anyone catch ER last night? That was so utterly shameless. I can't believe they would have the temerity to suggest that we, as a nation and international community, aren't doing enough to help those poor bastards in Darfur. It was almost enough to make me watch that show again. As it is, I think I'll just bemoan our lack of action and maybe email my Representatives and Senators. Or sit in a coffee shop and bitch. One of the two. I haven't yet decided which is more effective.

SEE!?!

I've only been saying this since 2003 or so. I am glad that at least one person is speaking up with me. This is from the comments at Calling All Wingnuts.

Steven M Mar 3rd, 2006 at 9:45 am

Stop using the term “Pro-Lifer.” It is misleading at best and it is people like O’Reilly’s term. Most of those who call themselves “Pro-life” are in favor of the death penalty so it is completely false. The proper term for these people is “Anti-abortionist” and it is important to the neurolinguistic and framing of progressive’s arguments to use our accurate terms, not their made up ones.

Some Examples:
Late term abortion NOT Partial birth abortion
Inheritance tax NOT Death tax
Conservative Corporate Media NOT Liberal media

Read George Lakoff for a better understanding. We have to stop shooting ourselves in the collective foot.

This Boy Needs Help

This photo pretty much speaks for itself.

Further clarification: This is my nephew, not my child. So ladies, please feel free to continue making with the sexy.

A Word of Warning

It is highly likely that there will be more odd posts this weekend. I am removing the filters at 630 PM Eastern Standard and they won't be replaced until 930 AM EST. This is likely to continue through the year. Forecsters predict extended stays in crazy land as a low pressure system moves into my neocortex. The high pressure storm system in the cerebellum shows no sign of movement and is also predicted to remain fo rhte foreseeable future. Given that I can actually see the future, this prediction carries with it a 97% accuracy rating.

Dune was such a cool book. It really is a shame Herbert couldn't keep it up for the rest of the series. I totally lost interest while God-Emperor Leto II was torturing Siona with stories of his/her past. As a corollary, Fallout 1, 2 & Tactics were awesome games. I am pretty psyched an hopeful that Fallout 3 by Bethesda Softworks will be at least as good. If it isn't I know where they live. Well, work, but who's counting?

High functioning autistic, my ass. I just use 12% of my brain. Or more. Cuz I'm a genius, see?

Is this stupid or just inane?

From the comments on Atlas Shrugs:

Well, for one thing, it will make the separation of nonevil terrorists (jew killing) from evil terrorists (killing Americans) more difficult for our fence-sitter-in-chief to split hairs between.
They all need a good dose of "death from above" as a permanent cure.
Pres. Bush is not a conservative, but the only people backing him as president are, so we should have some influence in how he responds, and firmly head-in-sand mode isn't supposed to be one of the options.

Posted by: Jhn'1 | Thursday, March 02, 2006 at 01:45 PM

What? How is Bush not conservative? What world am I living in and how can I get to the one where Bush is a good guy? I bet I could get there pretty easily by repeatedly hitting myself in the head with a ten pound sledge.

Teh? Why must you remain silent?

I eagerly anticipate teh l4m3'z righteous fury on the video tapes of teh k4tr1n4 governmental meetings. I want to read his loathsome* anger on the contradictory statements of the feds about their preparations and predictions for the New Orleans disaster. I would also like to see how people can spin away the recent batch of evidence that further indicates how truly awful this administration is. What evidence does the right need? Does the vice president need to shoot people in the face before people realize he is a total bastard? Oh, wait.

*Have I gone all wingnut with that use of loathsome?

Coffee and Other Related Subjects

So it has been a rough day. Meh. I was up to 330 AM due to a truly outrageous cup of coffee I had at 5 PM. I thought it was 3. I may be a genius, but I haven't quite mastered time travel yet. The technique I hope to master someday involves subjective and objective realities. Some people might cite Berkeley as a direct counter to my methods of time travel/universal travel, but I don't believe in God and there is no evidence that there is a direct perceiver, but there are the apparent laws of the universe like the Speed of Light and the Speed of Electrons to consider. Since a person can change the nature of his/her reality through force of will and effort, (Bill Gates and Donald Trump are adequate examples) these laws should be mutable to some degree. I guess my failings so far are due to my incomplete understanding of certain principles. A person really should take a decent spread of courses in order to gain a thorough grounding for living in this world. Physics, philosophy, arithmetic, literature and history in particular. I am sure that there are more subjects that one should study but really all topics are just offshoots of philosophy anyway, so what is the point of studying anything but? Even the samurai knew that Socrates was the original. Half of the Hagakure so far has been Socratic in nature and the other half is just a response to Socrates because the Japanese are, as a people, haters.* After all everything is just a footnote to Plato, so stop hating. Anyway, I think it would be pretty awesome to see a movie starring Socrates because he was such a hard core bad ass mofo. Some people may try to say that Socrates was an old flirt who liked the boys and talking and what has talk ever done for us? Well, to those people I say, you are quite the students of history. Socrates was a soldier who lived to be fifty or sixty. I remind you that this was back in the days of spears and shields and giant, unholy cans of whupass. Medical care? Field hospitals? Not likely. It is more like being an old mobster or something. You know they are hard core because they are still around. So have a little respect for Socrates because he'll bust a busload of caps in your miniscule cranium if you keep on talking that crap. I just came up with an awesome idea for a series of movies. And they are good. Now I just need some money.

*Not so much, the guys I have known were actually pretty damn awesome and could pound beers with the best. Not for as long but with as much enthusiasm.

Shamelessly Neener Neenering

Here are a few of my rules:

1. Let them be sandwiches. Plan your sandwiches according to your schedule. Nobody wants a grilled ham and cheese sandwich on Tuesday, those are reserved for Thursdays.

2. You won't be able to change sandwiches without going to the store again.

3. Trust in the sandwich. (Don't be stupid though. If the meat is fuzzy, dump it. There's always more sandwiches. Always. More. Sandwiches.)

4. Let them be clubs. (BLTs are not the only sandwich style for bacon. Do NOT make the bacon feel guilty about this. Ever. evar?)

5. Let a man go out for sandwiches. (If he is going out excessively, well, then, maybe he needs a better selection of deli meat in the fridge but if it's only once a week, so what?)

6. Lose the drama. (Sandwiches hate drama. You are only hurting yourself here. Basically, don't say stupid, mean shit just to get a reaction out of the muenster. Grow the fuck up.)

7. When they first walk in the door, don't talk so much. Sandwiches like quiet. Just let them sort of acclimatize for a few minutes. They'll be ready once they settle down. Just give them time. (And if they never smell good remember they'll never be good even with frying and dump them. Because there are always more sandwiches.)

8. If you are out at the grill and you see a cute sandwich looking at you, don't break eye contact until it does. See what it does next. It can tell you much, like if it has an overpowering mustard that drowns out the subtle flavors of the smoked gouda.

9. Finally, don't be afraid to be firm with it. If the cheese isn't quality, dump it. There are always more sandwiches.

10. Never, ever put ketchup on a sandwich. Not even catsup. This abomination of the wonderful tomato plant destroys flavor.

11. Meatloaf may scream for ketchup, but that is because meatloaf is typically insane due to its mélange nature. Pour a judicious amount of hot sauce on there along with a smooth, creamy cheese and the meatloaf will settle down.

12. Never overwhelm a sandwich with hot sauce. See rule 11.

13. Mayonnaise is for pussies. See rule 10.

14. If you are dating someone who asks for a sandwich, receive explicit verbal creative permission before proceeding to locate all necessary items. Never listen to their requests for toppings because if they are dating you, they are likely to be incurably insane and should not be trusted.

A Good Idea So Long As They Don't Catch Me, Part 2

Except this time they did. This lesson details the importance of vengeance being anonymous and vicious. I was walking to class in the spring of my senior year and I was late so I headed out across the drying fields. Only the top two inches of ground had unfrozen, so it was a little slick and you could end up leaving streaks of mud as you ripped off the top layer. This guy in my dorm who wasn't entirely stable came running up laughing and started kicking clods of smelly mud and grass at me. He sat there laughing and kicking shit at me for a few minutes as I tried to dodge and ended up sliding down the hill and getting thoroughly covered in rotten smelling mud and grass.

I figured that since I would have been thrown out of class to change anyway, I might as well be late but smell clean. I hiked back to my dorm and on the way I noticed a thawed pile of topsoil and rotting vegetation from the center of the plow snow drifts of the winter. I grabbed huge hunks of the stuff and marched up to the laughing jackass' room and started flinging the mud all over his room. The moron never locked his door. I went back and forth between the pile and his room a few times before taking a shower and changing and heading to class about a half hour late.

When the turd came back to find his room had been redecorated, I figured whatever, fair is fair. The dorm faculty didn't agree. They made me sweep it up. I did sweep most of it up, but I left piles in the corner underneath his laundry, behind his bookshelves and in his closet. He just tossed trash in there anyway. He didn't give a shit two days later and I figured he wouldn't.

The lesson to be learned is that if I had waited until the next fish dinner, I could have had several aquatic accomplices who would never have confessed under any duress. The target would never have known it was me and I would have had all the satisfaction in the world. Timing and execution are everything. If the target has no clue as to the motivation of the act, then they will be plagued by doubt and fear. The psychological aspect can be far more harmful than the act itself, if planned properly. To quote Ricardo Montalban, "Revenge is a dish best served cold and it is very cold in space." Meanwhile, on Fantasy Island...

Hmmm

Has anyone else noticed that at least half of the comments on this blog are by me? How lame is that? Can we get a quantification of the lamitude?

On Getting Dumped

I have always found it interesting to get dumped. I have been dumped via email, answering machine message and the Washington Way. For those of you not from the area, the Washington Way consists of one person deciding the relationship is over and not bothering to inform the other. In fact, they don't even return phone calls or emails to gloat in the movingonness of their life. It is pretty awesome. In the way that Michael Bay is awesome. It is definitely not Uwe Boll awesome. A dumping of that magnitude has not been seen since the summer of '97 in Waukegan, WI when James McInerney was dumped by long time girlfriend, Louisa Ramon-Perez. That was about as bad as the dumping that went on in PopRen's bathroom on the Day of the Great Porking.

I like the way breakups were handled in the movie Closer. If you don't get out all that crap, it just festers. So get angry. Yell at each other if you feel like it. Emotions are wonderful. Let them rage. You have to be honest in a break up or else the other will never know the truth and that just causes them further hurt. If you are guaranteed to never see them again, well, that’s a different story. You can let them fester and they will get over it. Or maybe not. I seem to be different than most of the guys I have met about this. Most men I know prefer the yelling.

When you have a festering wound, I have found that it is best to let it really build for about seven months and then go see the girl in question. Lay it all out and be honest about how she made you feel, but be resigned that it is over and let that soulpus just drain out, even squeezing it a bit to make sure you got it all. Then leave. It's over and you move on. That's how I roll. If you can't get the space to fester because she won't leave you alone, that is when problems happen.

If someone has decided that it is over, then the relationship is dead and can only be reborn as undead and not resurrected fully. Undead relationships are the leading cause of zombification today. You see these people everywhere. They have that dull look in their eyes and spread the unjoy around to their friends with incessant whining about the living dead inhabiting their hearts. Accept that you have to dump him/her and find someone else.

I have never tried the Regret Approach because I think it is lame. This is the old classic where the dumped says something like, “You’ll see me someday and be sad that you aren’t a part of my fantastic life.” Jeezus. We all know you’re just going to mope for a few months and watch TV and gain a few pounds until you meet someone else to bore. In fact, I have never tried any approach to win back someone who has decided they aren’t interested.

Once I am dumped, dumping or otherwise trying to end a relationship, I have discovered that I can no longer trust my motivations regarding that person. If I am the Dumper, I must watch myself carefully or I will twist the poor girl in the wind because I am a seriously awful bastard. I don’t even know how I got this way. I have never really been manipulated or deeply hurt by a girl, so I have no reason to be such a prick. I guess I have more of that dark asshole in me then previously thought.

If I am dumped, I must also watch myself in order to prevent a series of shameless Excellence Displays. We all know what these are. They are far more subtle than the New Mate Displays*, although that isn’t saying much. Excellence Displays are frequently executed in the company of the Dumper, but also in close proximity to the Dumper’s friends. You do your level best to try and look excellent and inspire feelings in the Dumper. The goal is to remind the Dumper of the reasons they liked you.

In conclusion, it is a fine line to walk between honesty and anger. I take a week or so break after each relationship to get my head straight before walking the line again. If I have decided that it would be in my best interests to remain friends with the Dumper or Dumpee, then I tend to take at least two weeks off to really realign my being. This helps prevent mixed feelings and manipulation. The hard part is finding the difference between being overly solicitous and tragically indifferent. Actually, tragic indifference is probably the most optimal route to getting laid ever. So the final lesson is: Don’t listen to a word I say on this topic because I can’t be trusted with anyone’s daughter over the age of 22. Ok, 20.

*If you don’t know what this is, get off. Just get off my** site and go play Final Fantasy XXX.

**Ok, so it’s really Blogger’s.***

***Well, Google’s I suppose.

Proof

My absence from evidence is not the evidence of my absence.

Guys and Dolls

I can't stand musicals. I liked South Park, but even that was too much for me. There is one Spanish musical called The Other Side of the Bed which is awesome and everyone should go rent it now. Paz Vega is in it and if you don't know who she is and you are a straight man, you are missing out on something awesome: her breasts. They are rather similar to Jenny Agutter's in that they refuse to be caged by clothing. Whew. But I digress.

Girls are funny creatures. I have said it before and I will say it again and again in the future. No matter who they are with, girls are always with the wrong guy. Even if it's me. Especially if it is me. When teh l4m3 described me as the hero of an unwritten Francoise Sagan novel, that was pretty awesome. I am not calling myself a stud at all. I am anything but studly. Well, that's not true. I am pretty damn studly. It really comes down to understanding the way things work. Manipulation is a naughty word for some, but not necessarily for me. As a genius, I can grok this and many other concepts. The baboons and bonobos understand that being a certain sort of guy has advantages and being another sort of guy has advantages as well. The key is knowing which type of guy to be in all situations. Some people say that this is extremely false and some people definitely play it that way. I understand and accept who I am and thus am able to know my motives in almost all things. This is always important. Without self knowledge, there is only a paralyzing stagnation in the soul. So, in conclusion, being the kind of guy that is generally at ease in the world in all situations I say this: the ladies, they love me.

Work Can Sometimes Blow...

Our ISP went down today. From Atlanta to Virginia. We are in DC. Our ISP must be in Virginia. Oh, how I loathe Virginia at times like this. And most other times. In other news, I am reposting all of my movie reviews with director's commentary over at Reviews n Stuff. dontEATnachos has an old site he has resurrected with WordPress. I will definitely be hating on WordPress soon. You know, since it is so cool and all.

Apparently I Don't Suck, Part 1

I took some decent photographs on Monday. They were all in focus and not backwards and upside down at all, like my usual attempts to collect visual logs of my excursions.

Teh L4m3 Called It!

From last week's Savage Love:
Confidential to everybody: "Pearl necklace" is out. "Cheney" is in. Pass it on.

Checking the posting date of both, I notice that teh's date is a day later than Savage Love's. This makes complete sense, given that all gay men are in constant psychic communication ala straight girls. I guess that teh l4m3 was just giving Dan Savage the boost in readership that he so desperately needs. What panache!

Radness at 4000 Wisconsin Avenue

Everybody in San Francisco, LISTEN UP BITCHES!

Night Watch is so freaking cool, I had to call my mom and smack her long distance. That movie was so neat, it inspired me to write my own crappy White Wolf crime movie script last night. This phenomenon is so awesome it sucks the awesomeness right out of you and leaves you a shattered husk of nerdy lameness, lamenting your lost imagination.

On a final note, San Francisco is one of three cities in the whole freaking country to have a theater playing the movie. It is playing at the Metreon and if you don't go see it, call me and I will rely the entire plot and quote some shit and then you will kill yourself because you have missed a great movie and had to listen to me rub it in your face. Night Watch is so ubiquitously neutronian, I have to make up words to describe how cool it is. The director and writers can probably wander around the streets of Mockba* AND GRAB HOT BABES AND JUST PORK THEM ON THE STEET because this movie is so good.

*That's Moscow to you and me, bitches, oh yeah, I'm going all kazakhy on your asses.

Further Foulness and Frozen Fluids

When I was a sophomore in college, I was taught the most lethal and hilarious revenge tactic. You need a few things: apathy(antipathy) towards target, petri dishes, bucket with lid, ability to shut the hell up and not tell a damn soul. This really works best in the winter or in hot areas. It also only works in rooms with rugs and decent gaps between door and floor. It will work well if the target is an idiot and leaves their keys hanging on a hook while showering or leaves the door unlocked while showering or hanging in the lounge.

In the morning, pee that first smelly, yellow pee into bucket(it helps to have a big meal of asparagus the previous night). Close bucket. Repeat next morning. On the thrid morning, if the pee in the bucket does not smell horribly foul, urinate in bucket again. Be careful as smaller buckets are not advisedd for this task. Perhaps I should have made that clear earlier. Oh well. As soon as the bucket of pee smells truly piss-like, get some latex/vinyl gloves and fill the thinner part(the lid) of the petri dish with the smelly pee. Place in freezer. Two discs is recommended for the average room, perhaps three. Four if you are really pissed off.

48 hours later, your pee should be pretty well frozen. The goal now is to take the discs in the petri tops over to the target's room (oh yeah, by the way, never do this to someone on your floor or, really, your building) and place the frozen discs upside down on the floor in front of the target's door. Gently tap the petri dishes so that the dish part will lift away from the frozen disc of urine. Then slide the discs under the door. For obvious reasons, do not attempt while the target is in the room. Since you will have done your homework and know the target's patterns, you know when he/she will be gone for several hours. This will allow the discs ample time to melt in the heated room. If the room is open and you are certain you can get in and out without being seen, leave the discs under beds and/or dressers, etc. Someplace out of sight. The discs melt and a foul smell exudes from the carpet. This will force the target to endure a horrific stench until they have the carpets cleaned.

Unfortunately, the piss disc has only gotten to the 'frozen disc of urine in your friend's fridge' stage in my life. However, it was absolutely hilarious. I wish I had been there to see the expression on his mom's face when he explained what was in his fridge. Sorry, bud.

A Good Idea So Long As They Don't Catch Me, Part 1

When I was in high school, there were some guys in the dorm that I didn't like. I didn't like them because they harassed me. I probably deserved it, as I took every chance to harass them. It was a Reagan-Gorbachev thing. They would yell at me for waking up with bloody noses and walking to the bathroom at three A.M. and I would walk over to their doors and bleed on the floor in front of their rooms. It was nothing close to fun, but it mollified my mean streak.

I pretty much despise fish that smells like a fish market. I find that smell nauseating. One day for lunch we were having fish filets and I took one and wrapped it tightly with paper napkins. They had adhered pretty well due to the grease coating and I walked out the door with my weapon. It was a fairly warm day in April in western Massachusetts and the target had his window open. The top part was pushed down and formed a three inch platform with the bottom part. These windows had no screens and the second floor was a tough shot from the ground. The blinds were drawn and I figured this would help my dastardly plot. It only took two carefully made tosses to get the fish filet on the window. It landed with a little wet thud and stayed up there for about a week.

I checked the window ledge every time I heard the occupants come back from class. I was outside when I heard the yells, "Goddammit, where is that fucking smell coming from? I heard tossing and turning over of many objects and more yelling as the two maroons blamed each other's dirty clothes for the pungent aroma of rotting, greasy fish filet. Which now smelled wuite foul when the wind blew right. I was laughing to myself and sitting on the rocks across the road from the window when they finally raised the blinds. The fish filet showed incredible aptitude for espionage by falling off the ledge when nudged by the rapidly rising blind. Those bastards never knew what caused the smell.

In a fantastic twofer, the freshman that lived below them had a frightening night listening to raccoons fighting over the nasty remains of my partner in crime. Don't fuck with me, you'll lose.

Oh Sweet Baby Fancypants.

The barista neglected to put any espresso in my massive mocha this morning. I had a warm chocolate milk, instead of my caffienated beverage. I shelled out four freaking dollars for a goddam chocolate MILK!?! They give this crap away free to kids in school! If it weren't assault, I'd be marching back there now and going all Incredible Bulk on that establishment. At least I have the free screening of the excellent looking Night Watch tonight.

Worst G.I. Joe Ripoff Ever Made

You know, Doom: The Movie was bad enough, but now there are just rubbing salt in my brain. These could be cool, if they didn't suck golf balls through 1/8 inch fallopial tubing.

Why is Blogger Going Nuts?

Just because leaving blogger is so cool right now, I am sticking with it. Cuz I am so cool, I know how lame I am. That's how cool I am. I stick with it, I stay the course. I am just the kind of guy who would stay married in a horrible nightmare of a relationship, just for the remote control. So, even if blogger is beating me like a red headed starlet, I remain loyal. Blogger may treat me like some kind of weirdo that consistently votes for candidates whose only agenda is using and abusing the voters' trust, I stick with it. I may be locked out of my site like a senior trying to vote in Florida, but I stick with it. It wouldn't be prudent to just up and switch leaders when the one we have has only been screwing up for five years. Hell, he hasn't really hit his stride yet. Have you noticed that no matter how badly they do fuck up, the Republican base (corporations) always comes out ahead? Clearly, Republicans know how to help out their supporters, so we should trust them with more authority and completely rearrange our governmental structure to reflect that. Who better to lead us through these difficult times, than one man with unquestioned authority and vision? Let us not forget that these people, elected Republicans, are not in the business of helping anyone. Since, they don't want to help anyone, they are by far the most unpartisan of all parties. In fact, Republicans are so unpartisan, they don't even use the word party because it contains a section of the word partisan. They refer to themselves as "the ruling class". Thus, their whole idea that the market will sort minimum wage out because people will only work for the best paying companies. This is bullshit because we all know that the companies would do everything to preserve their bottom line which means wages everywhere would drop. There would be no decent employment except for the few in management and those poor saps would get lynched by the teeming hordes of the working class, just like the earliest days of the 20th century. Mass chaos, anarchy and stock market funny business all over again. Jesus H Christ, why can't people look at the results of the Republican agenda? They are destroying our rights, our country and our planet! Dogs and cats living together! Shit, man, the next thing you know, dogs and cats will be asking for marriage rights and that is just crazy. It is Stan and Dan, not Fluffy and Fido.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, whatever teh, I'd still bang Charisma Carpenter till the coming nuclear apocalypse even if she is a bitch.

Sucker Punch!

I finally got some crickets for my tarantula, Helob. I only bought five because I was worried about the chirping driving me bonkers again. I read that crickets may be undesirable if you don't feed them. So I cut up some mandarin orange slices and put some of the juice in a dish in the terrarium for the crickets to eat. Then I dumped the crickets in and closed the lid.

Immediately, one of the crickets ran straight to Helob. He grabbed it and was munching away happily until another walked right up to him and poked him in the face. Helob stopped masticating (is that an appropriate verb here?) the cricket and I was worried that he wouldn't eat the rest of them like last time. Thankfully, this was not the case. Helob continued to eat the first cricket after the other crickets stopped harassing him. He also did his dinner dance. This is his weblaying trick where he spins in place and lays a sheet of webbing in a circle. He always does it while munching away on some hapless cricket. The next morning I could only see three crickets and they were all hiding in the furthest corner from Helob. One was even trying to dig into the dirt. Now that's comedy.

As an unrelated topic, it isn't hard to tell that this kid is related to me.

Work is Pretty Cool Sometimes...

So maybe I am settling in to my pod, but work is pretty cool right now. All three of my bosses have left for the read over at the other office and I won't see them until tomorrow, I have the window open all the way, the tunes all the way up, it is almost sixty degrees outside and I am blazing through my work while still blogging a little. If I had a fine Cuban cigar and some hooch, we could call this awesome.

In other words, EAT IT COBAGZ!1!! MY GOB ROOLZ!

As an updatey type thing, I googled "Someone relaxing" for a photo to really rub it in and my college came up as the third hit. How totally appropriate, given the experience of this genius then and now.

The Standings So Far

The 3Bulls! Header Contest is going red hot, but I still need some votes if I am to pull this off. I need all of those anonymous people, ZZorro and even canuck, and the bloggers that haven't voted, giving you the evil eye teh l4m3, to go vote for my entries numbered 9, 10, and 11. Two are Battlestar Galactica themed and extra special and one is primatologically delicious. If only Trix and Lucky Charms were delicious in such a fashion.

The Tallies:
#1 45__________#8 18
#2 45__________#9 24 A little far behind, but still worthy
#3 29__________#10 69! Just a little more!
#4 82.90!______#11 46.66 Ah! The mark of the beast!
#5 74.41!______#12 13.3
#6 24__________#13 35
#7 52.125

UPDATE: VOTE! Come on, I need this.

Dick Cheney is so evil...

I used all my good material over at the 3Bulls thread. In a related story, gmail just updated/upgraded to allow gmail chatting. This may be the worst idea ever. Now, I can see when everybody is checking their email and hassle the hell out of them. What a terrible idea. That is almost as bad an idea as hunting with your eyes closed.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

So I woke up and discovered to my apathetic reaction that we had indeed received close to fourteen inches of snow. That is pretty amazing for DC and I hauled my ass out of bed and the mancave before 10:45 to take a walk. I ventured as far as the field on the other side of the creek. Thereupon, I found some children and their father making a snowman. I thought to myself that I should not waste my day and as the power was out in the mancave and it was a fairly warm day, I could make a bigger and cooler snowman than those kids. A mood loves nothing better than making some little snot feel like crap, so I started rolling a base. Then I remembered someone I had not thought of for a while and my snowman turned into two snowmen and they were both ABOMINABLE MUTANT KILLER SNOWMEN FROM MARS!

Obligatory Winter Olympics Post

I like skiing. I like ice skating. I don't yet have the abs for snowboarding, but I had fun trying until I fell and bruised my scrotum. I think the winter Olympics are a stupid sham to allow the countries with snowy winters feel superior to the sunny, warm wintered countries. These events a huge show that tries to hide the northern and southern latitude countries' envy of those countries with warm, sunny climates. It seems like half of the so-called sports were invented by the US, so is it any surprise that we win? Talk about rewriting the game because you are a whiny snot that hates losing. In short, the winter Olympics are a crock and totally freaking lame.

The winter Olympics need something more to make me watch. Something like Fireball from The Running Man. Or machine guns that waste any poor sap that takes a tumble. Let their be real consequences for slipping on ice. "Well, gee, I totally embarrassed and disappointed my country by falling on my ass and now I'm dead, so I can't even try again next year. Boo Hoo!" or perhaps if the coaches committed seppuku if their proteges screwed up. That would be slightly interesting.

I think the real source of my attitude toward the winter Olympics is the whole Kerrigan/Harding crap. "Oh shit, she's a better fairy princess than I am, boo hoo! Hubby, club her in the leg." Actually, that isn't it either. Although, I would totally watch her get beaten out on the ice, over and over again. Only because she tried to cry her way into competition. What a hose beast.

The summer Olympics are getting irritating as well. Two on two beach flipping volleyball? Who the hell are we Jonah freaking Goldberg? Are we, as a nation, so insecure that we need to invent new categories that no one else gives a shit about to compete in? That is only slightly worse than justifying your crappy political philosophy by saying South Park agrees with you. I hear next time they are including skateboarding as the new summer sport and next winter the new event will be writing your name in the snow with your piss. Although, given the talent that would take for the women, I would probably watch that. That sounds way grosser than I meant it.

UPDATE: Blogger spell check knew Harding, but not Kerrigan. That is a little odd, but probably has to do with the President.

The Weather Underground

In my mancave, I am suppose I am comfortable. It is still snowing outside and that is pretty cool. Not as cool as if it were Sunday night and this was happening but whatever. The fucking ghost in my apartment has flickered the lights three freaking times and I am getting pretty sick of his antics. Two or three more times and I am going Spengler on his ethereal ass. If the TV and my computer, which is apparently not full of leaves, flickered at the same time as the lights, then I would know it wasn't the ghost. So far three times and only the lights flicker.

So yeah, the weather is my hobbit hole is a little chilly and that is how I like it. It is still really dry, which is also cool. Right now, I take my victories where I can. I got a new bike the other day, which is not really new it came from some other dude. So the bicycle seat I am planning on riding in to work has been ridden by an unknown number of men. I just have to trust that none of them sweat horribly or were bitten by the Chilean Aquatic Butt Slug. Those damn Chilean butt slugs are normally fairly benign, however the aquatic species is particularly tenacious and aggressive. You know, one time I was having lunch at school and this guy sat down and started eating a huge plate of food. He then proceeded to relate his opinions of his eating habits and how they had increased. I had never met him before and neither had anyone else at the table. I wouldn't call them my friends, but I was currently being left alone by them, so I figured they were relatively safe to eat with. High school was a lot like prison, except for the showers-those were normal. If you got up from the table to get another fork or something, you had to inspect your food after returning. People were cutthroat. One time, I saw a guy trap a fly in a tub of butter and then bury it in the butter. No, wait, it was margarine. Anyway, so this guy sits down and is telling us about this tapeworm and stuff. He is going on and on about it. I ask him how he knows he has a tapeworm because I think he is an idiot and everybody else at that school is hypocondriac. He says that for the last two months he has been eating like mad. I ask him if he is doing anything new or different. Turns out this moron had been working out for about ten weeks. I then ask him if he thinks the exercise has anything to do with his increased appetite. He says maybe and then calls me 'Bob' and I say my name is Chuckles. He looks around at us and realizes that he has sat at the wrong table. So, I'm all like, what the fuck? Apparently, I then decided to emulate his storytelling style.

Anyway, my new bike is cool. It has tires that are half the width of my old ones and weighs about 2/3 of my old bike. I still have the hobo crate. I need to adjust the brakes, they are a little faster than I like. That reminds me of a nickname I had in college, well not the bike, the earlier crap. The guys in my fraternity called me Egon. I had a curly, short haircut and glasses. I was smart and had a large collection of spores, molds and fungus. I called it my fridge.

Yeah, so there's like three inches of snow outside. For DC that's something else. Maybe by morning we will have reached the predicted 14 inches.

So, I'm a grown up now, I guess

Today for work I went down to the Omni in Woodley Park to check out an exhibit hall. Work is hosting an event down there in March and we wanted to check out some new fixtures and our layout. Turns out the event was the Gathering of the Wingnuts. I just about shit myself. I spent three hours wandering around the booths and exercising great restraint. I was dressed like I belonged except for one key item. Well, two. I didn't have a visible conference registration, but I was wearing a blue dress shirt.

At first I was surprised. These are the same people that RosemaryEssmay thinks live in the real world. These people champion G.Gordon Liddy and Dick Cheney. These people have cutouts of GWB at 70% life size in their booths. For sale. If the purchase hadn't supoorted some PAC/lobbying group that wants to turn America into a theocracy, I might have bought one of those. I would have then marched out into the center of the hall, by the Lockheed Martin F22 quad booth/flight sim(Making War Like a VideoGame Since Vietnam!), tossed GWB on the ground, ripped his head off, shredded the rest of it and then pissed on the remains. As the multiple film crews taped me being forcibly removed, I would have shouted, "FREELANCE GENIUS DOT BLOGSPOT DOT COM!!!!1!11!!!" and "MICHELLE MALKIN PERPETUATES BOGUS MEMES, COBAGZ!" During my press conference upon my release from jail, I would deliver a concise discourse on how the WRN crew will dominate the 3Bulls! header challenge.

As it was, I walked around and I tried really hard not to glare at them or give them the eye. I openly sneered at the GWB cutout and the boothies noticed. I worried that would start a screaming riot with cries of "BURN THE LIBERAL! DEATH TO DISSENT AND PATRIOTISM!" That would have been pretty cool actually. I would have tossed my coat and manbag aside and issued a mighty warcry. Anybody that came within reach with intent to annoy would have gotten the whole five fingers of doom across the maxilla. Yellow elephants would stampede in fear. I am a furious, funktastic ninja of responsibility and I will strike without warning, bitches. I leap from foe to for like a gazelle or maybe a leopard, clawing and gouging, slaying and slaughtering with bellows of "COBAGZ!" and "CHUNDERMUFFINZ!" perhaps even the occaisonal "LOAFWAGON!" There'd be DNA evidence everywhere. But I didn't.

Anyway. The Ex-gays and had a booth. I thought that was pretty funny, becuase it was kind of lonely looking. The RIAA had a booth space, but no presence. PopRen and I would have burned that mother to the ground and beaten the boothies with dead cats. There was even a 'stop illegal file sharing' booth with no clear name visible. The boothie was hidden behind two televisions showing movies which were both in view of a video camera. I found that hilarious. I asked her about the legality of downloading TV shows. She said that she had no idea but it probably wasn't a good idea given that it was copywrited material. I responded that they beam it everywhere for free. She offered to look it up. I said no thanks, I'll just keep doing it even if it's illegal. The ACLU had a booth. This was pretty surprising, but then it was stuck way off in the far corner and poorly lit. I wandered far and found the booth for PR. Conservatives for the legalization of marijuana. Apparently, we are at war with drugs and conservatives want small government. This reasoning follows the line that conservatives should want to stop this war and cut the funding that isn't stopping the drugs anyway. I was surprised at the logical consistency displayed by the boothie. No one was stopping by him either.

People were mostly hanging off of the two booths that were selling Malkin and Coulters books. People still can't wait to hang off either pair of balls on those two hose beasts.

Did you know that you can buy coffee that is both anti-Fair Trade and pro-Contra all at once? It is called Contra Coffee. I wonder if Oliver North drinks it. I bet he's in the commercials.

I didn't do anything vulgar or mean while I was there. I really let loose at lunch though. The bar we were eating in was packed with young dumb morons from the convention of evil, so I allowed my voice to really project and laid out a series of attacks against pretty much everything I saw in the hall. The idle chatter at the nearby tables quieted and I received dirty looks as the fools left. My coworker's hearing should return by Monday, Wednesday at the latest.

Inconstantine

So, I watched Constantine last night. Keanu Reeves looked even worse than usual. If we hadn't already been through it, I would harp on this man's attempts to act. He was funny in Thumbsucker but he was playing a hippie dentist, so it fit. The movie was ok but Keanu's lack of a performance really hampered it. Stylistically, I am more than a little sick of every ambassador from hell wearing a sharp suit and looking slick while all the angels dress like mental patients. Yeah, sure the devil always dresses for the occaison, but why do the heaven sent have to be putzes? I would think they (the angel people) wouldn't be flashy or severe, but exuberant and real joie de vive-like. Basically, the tool of subtlety has been comepletely lost in Hollywood. I think it gave up the ghost when Clooney put on the bat suit.

Back to the Keanu bashing, A Scanner Darkly looks interesting, but will probably be more of a test bed for new animation styles rather than a decent movie. It may even be a neat story until Keanu wanders into frame and then proceeds to club the movie over the head and drag it out back to drown it in the kiddie pool. I wonder if there is a role he would be any good playing? I bet you that even if he were to play himself in his own biopic, he would still suck. What would that movie be called?

Whatever happened to Bill after The Lost Boys?

Take 5 Tarantula Tuesday!

Today Take 5 is totally tailoring this traditional Tarantula Tuesday Textposition!* I would like to officially resume hating Pinko Punko. Some people might ask why, why do you, Chuckles, hate Pinko Punko? What could there possibly be to hate about that bullish bastard? The reasons are few and singular. He introduced me to Take 5 candy bars. I have now eaten two in the space of three months. Until this time, I had only consumed an average of one candy bar in any given year since high school. There is no particular reason why I have been mostly celibate in my snacking, I am just weird. That and I hate crappy chocolate. I do like donuts, though. Only cake donuts though, regular Krispy Kremes make me sick and don't taste so good. I think this is related to my childhood** and my parent's denial of sugary cereals. As some of you may know, I was raised by a loving family of rocks in the steamy jungles*** of the Congo. These rocks worked for General Mills and insisted on feeding us a heart healthy heaping of cheery circular grain products. Some days I was even lucky enough to be ignored while the sugar bowl was left open on front of me. Many were the days when I mistook Mama Rock's front for her back and was quite soundly thrashed for my insolence in attempting to sweeten my morning meal.**** I often had trouble at school as well. In case you were wondering, yes, I attended the school of hard rocks.# It was a difficult transition for me. I was home schooled until I was eleven and my parents, being igneous, only taught me geology and patience.## I can't complain or shouldn't at any rate. I really learned how to argue and debate. Do you how hard it is to force an answer out of a rock? It is like milking, uh, rocks.### When I turned 16, I tried to go qualify for my driver's license, but my parents stonewalled me and I had to continue walking to school.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Take 5...They're ok I guess, but I am not buying anymore. To hell with PP and his band of vile desperados!

*Take 5 takes no responsibility for the contents of this post or this blog. Render unto PP all Take 5s now. ALL YOUR TAKE 5 BELONG TO US.
**What a whiny bitch I have become.
***Not at all similar to the steamy jungle known as teh's crotch, you dirty rats.
****You ain't been whupped til you been whupped by an inorganic, nonliving sessile mother rock.
#Oh, don't worry it will get worse.
##See? I told you.
###Rock milk is not just extremely difficult to procure, but also sweet and refreshing.
PS. Count the alliterations for a bonus nerd score!

Sub-Optimal

In certain situations, I find this phrase hilarious. Especially the first one I heard it in:

Sister In Law: If you let your baby sleep on its stomach, it tends to die. In the medical profession, this is called Sub Optimal Baby Raising. Pretty much any child-rearing style that results in the death of said child is sub optimal.

I would laugh a lot more, if she didn't need to explain this to people in the ER all the time.

Bug Powder Dust

I finally saw Naked Lunch on Saturday. When I grow up I want to make movies like Cronenberg. I was only recently introduced to him when I saw eXistenZ in 1999. I really like how he twists a person's creation. He is pretty overt at times, but also subtle in a way that David Lynch isn't. David Lynch really seems to put people's insanity in the main point, but I think that Cronenberg likes to show that the insanity is in the creation. Or something. I need to see more movies by both of them. Tonight, Rabid is showing.

As a related aside, the song "Bug Powder Dust" by Bomb the Bass on the Kruder and Dorfmeister double album, The K&D Sessions, is all about Naked Lunch. After I finish Hagakure by Tsunetomo Yamamoto and A Primate's Memoir by Sapolsky, I will devour Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. Look for the long lost WEstern Thought Wednesday to reappear this week.

Totally Stealing This Post Idea

I was walking through the sandwich and wine market near work Wednesday when I saw these on the shelf.

I thought to myself, "Hey, these are just the thing for a Genius on the go." So I tried them out this morning. I was expected some form of cheeto-type snack. I was a little disappointed by the appearance of the smart puffs. Apparently, the target consumer of these alleged food items is the one person in the country who has never seen a packing peanut before. These puffs had the same consistency and basically the same flavor. (The implication that I have tasted packing peanuts is deliberate. More on that later.) I was pretty disappointed because these puffs smelled like good white cheddar cheese but their taste was flat and lifeless. They are just starch with a hint of corn and a spritzing of cheese scent.



Well, the taste wasn't that horrible. Really it was the lack of crunch and the way they quickly dissolved into a kind of goo in my mouth that I found objectionable. I like chips and the like to be crunchy and not all gooey. Still, the consistency and appearance really ruined the small bit of cheesyness to be enjoyed. It was kind of like eating fried paste with a dusting of dried cheese.

Verdict: Not all things labeled smart are.

And Now, A Little Edward Hopper for My Brother in the Big SK

Work has been interesting. I have been presented with a puzzle. I have to find a shipment of books that was sent back to the publishers and they are saying that we have not shipped them back. I sent the books ten months ago. The publishing house is a little behind the ball on this issue, but I like puzzles. I will be digging through some old emails and invoices. I suppose this is the time to point out that my boss' tendency to save all of his emails may come in handy. Good thing I filed them all on a monthly and yearly basis. Other than that, I fiddle with File Maker Pro and try to convince it to do what I want. I have almost got this database in shape.
I have been working out almost every morning for the last two weeks and my pants are feeling looser. This is nice. I want to look better naked and look good for TheDarkMan's wedding in May.
I cooked balogna pie for dinner. I actually cooked. Used two pots, two plates and no less than three spices and three forms of liquid in cooking. Salt, pepper melange and rosemary with chicken simmered in olive oil and a nice white wine with couscous(the grain, not the aboreal Australian mammal). It has been a while since I cooked, but it turned out quite well. It has been said that I only ever cook balogna pie, but those who claim it is so are just jealous of my ability to whip stuff up into awesomely edible fare.
The American version of The Office is funny, but I missed it because I was cooking. I haven't introduced anybody to the British version yet, but I have introduced someone to Coupling and that went very well.
When are you coming back? The 40k minis are getting seriously lonely.

CAKE is the BEST BAND EVER!

CAKE is one of the last great pop bands, and something for which I devote a lot of time. There is a need for good pop stars, literate ones at that, and no one can hold CAKE's jockstrap when it comes to witty reparte.

I also love the fact that CAKE has continually grown musically, something most people avoid til no one's buying their records and they release the obligatory "look - here's our Neil Young/Dylan record because we're mature now." Not a single one of CAKE's records, for better or worse, sound the same.

The same can also be said of Smashmouth. Those guys are awesome and totally innovative, in terms of indie music they lead the pack of all those wannabes like Belle and Sebastian. I can't think of even one indie group out today that hasn't been influenced by the awesomeness that is Smashmouth. When I listen to Architecture in Helsinki's album, In Case We Die, I can hear Smashmouth coming through. I am continually amazed by the musical range of sounds Smashmouth has mastered.

Pop Ren Has Weird Taste in Music

Pop Ren likes Morrissey. I am not an appreciator of him nor The Smiths. I find Morrissey to be the musical equivalent of lunesta. My eyelids start to droop after three notes and if I don't manage to resist and change the channel, I am out. If I were to accidentally flip to the All Morrissey MTV channel the affect would be rather like the comfy chair episode of The Tick. I would never wake up until by some twist of fate and prophecy, a young maiden came and woke me up with a kiss. Of course, given my penchant for falling asleep on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, every airport anywhere, metro trains and buses, random beds (or perhaps, non-random) and even bookshelves, one would think that I require no sleep aids whatsoever. One would be right. I am just saying that Morrissey is boring. Seriously boring. Boring like a drill.

A Lament for Brian Beer Pong

I weep for our species. We have lost a great blog. Brianbeerpong is no more. He was funny. He was odd. He was clearly ripping on some tool from his college or, perhaps, high school. He annoyed the shit out of AdorableNotMyGirlfriendNoMatterWhatSheThinks. She never understood him and she contributed to his demise in no small way. She does not understand Stripes either, and perhaps she even misses the point of Animal House as well. She is a misandronystic(is that even a word?) misanthrope. I hope she is happy with herself in her new life.

In Sean Penn news, he has been signed to direct Into the Wild about this guy who died trying to live in Alaska. I read about him when I was travelling to somewhere in high school. This poor bastard had little wilderness training and froze to death in a bus. He had tried to burn a tree in a fire in the bus. He couldn't cut the tree apart because he only had a machete, so he broke a window and shoved the tree through it. I guess that is the Greek quality in action. I am sure that Sean Penn will turn it into a stunning display of human fortitude and the guy will find some hippie chick and they will fall in love and fight off bears with only their hands and live happily ever after.

Get Your Ginormous Bolus Here!

As I was commuting to work this morning, I saw something I found hilarious. I wanted a picture for evidence, but both the subject and I were moving in a non-sympathetic fashion. It was a semi from the 'Bolus Freight Services' company. I nearly lost my train of thought. Images of a truck full of junk being shipped directly to teh l4m3rz (teh l4m3'5?) door danced through my head. Ahh well, sometimes it is the ephemeral thigns in life that we cling to in foolish hope that really make help ruin the rest of the day.

In other news, I was going to post some crap about Sean Penn being a dork, but I just read his brother died. You won a reprieve today Penn, just today.

Objectification of the Human Form

After much deliberation, I submit to you, dear reader, two new celebrities that deserve our hate. Gwyneth Paltrow and Sean Penn. We'll discuss the second person first.

Sean Penn is more of a spectacle now than an actor. His movies get phenomenal press and, for some reason, ridiculous indie cred that far outweighs the efforts he puts into acting in the movie. I have never been impressed with any of his performances, not even the recent one in New Orleans. Everything he does feels like a calculated attempt to convince people that he doesn't know and will never meet on the subway to like him, really like him. Sean Penn is an actor. He is famous because he works in the movies. Is this man really qualified to run around telling everyone how to vote and how to run the world? If he weren't famous, then he would be as coherent as the man who stand on the corner of Mass Ave and 34th St with the sign that reads, "The Vatican protects pedophiles!" As a citizen, his opinions are just as valid as mine, but he seems to think that because he is famous, he knows how our country should operate. Oh really, Mr. Penn, please elaborate on your Mid-East Peace Plan? I am also curious as to how you would implement a comprehensive HIV/AIDs education and prevention plan. What is your opinion on the wide spread use of powerful antibiotics to prevent infections among the infected hordes in Africa? Oh yeah, that right. You don't actually know crap because you studied acting. Sorry, I forgot that you are a pinhead.

I was going to rip on the Paltrow, but I feel like shitting on Sean some more. However, as a blogger I have certain responsibilities. (No, I don't these things are not newspapers people.) So, back to Gwenyth Paltrow. She has been good. Hell, she blew the Brits out the water while she was on her extended stay over there a few years ago. To her credit, she didn't pick up some fake accent. However, her most recent movie seems to have been her naming her child Apple. A sure sign that kid will be a coke addict but I digress. Her catalog has some good movies: Seven, The Talented Mr. Ripley and The Royal Tenenbaums to name the best. However, it also contains Duets which is almost unforgivable. Especially that song she sang that ended up on easy listening stations across the country and runs through my brain due to the fact that my boss in Portland insisted on subjecting us to it, even though she used headphones to listen to her own music. Basically, she has been phoning it in for a while now and the press has been all about her private life. I have began to cringe every time her name is mentioned and that is not good. Come on, Great Expectation? What was that crap? Lets not forget Bounce for christ's sake. Her IMDB listing is starting to stink worse than an apple diaper dumpling. Take a break and remember what is important. The performance on screen, not the cookiness off screen.

Harrison Ford and Angelina Jolie were brought up as possible targets of hate, but Ford has not had the tawdry off screen life even though his latest movies have all been crap. Air Force One and the other formulaic crud bother me, although I thought the ending to the one about him killing his mistress was neat. Jolie has made good movies in the past, but since Hackers most people just want the boobies. Her private life bugs the hell out of me. Not because of her actions but because people seem to care about it. However, the tide has been against her for a while now. I don't dislike her because she stole a man and a few babies, I dislike her because that seems more important to her than putting out a moving performance in a better than average movie. She would have won my hate if she proselytized more about UNICEF and was photographed carrying more sacks of grain in Africa and then shooting at the Un helicopters to get their attention. That would totally deserve my rage. However, since she is one of the few that even remembers that Africa exists and more people die from the incessant fighting and AIDs than die from tsunamis, I guess she is off the hook for now.

Which Celebrity Shall We Hate Next?

Well, with all the hilarious hating of Tom Cruise also known as the New Michael Jackson, I have been taking names for our next nationally hated celebrity. Who shall we hate next? I was thinking Will Smith at first, but then I decided that others may have a different opinion and that this could be even funnier with other people's input. So, in the spirit of the uber-democracy of teh internets, why don't my two readers list their suggestions and at least one decent reason to hate their suggested celebrity. We'll start with celebrities of music and movies first, because they are pretty universally odd. If you have to explain who the person is, they don't count. (Just to prevent all you Amitabh Bachchan haters from exploiting my site.)

Newest Hated Celebrity: Will Smith
Reason(s): Hitch, The Legend of Bagger Vance, Wild Wild West, Men In Black 1&2. In addition, we shall hate Will Smith for having the pull and influence to make decent, challenging movies and choosing to star in Shark Tale. Whatever happened to the Will Smith from Six Degrees of Separation?

Other celebrities I was tossing around: Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg. I think Spielberg is a little too easy.

Daily Show: No Longer?

So, I just woke up and I wanted a weather forecast so I turned on the television. It was left on NBC last night due to my late night viewing of SNL. I wanted a weather report and I got Meet the Press. This is my new favorite fake news show. It was hilarious! A guy pretending to be Bill Frist was denying his prior actions in the Schiavo incident. He said that there was no anatomical way to declare someone to be in a PVS, it is only a clinical diagnosis. (I do not know the difference, but it sounded funny!) He then said the funniest thing! He had learned from the incident! The actor playing Bill Frist said the American people do not want government involved in medical decisions like this. This is hilarious! It's like he is saying that the Republican leadership is going to stop arguing about abortion, assisted suicide and PVS decisions. Man, I was dieing. Just rolling around clutching my side. This show just knocked the Daily Show from its vaunted, lofty position in the fake news I watch.

UPDATE: 11:19 AM: I just found out that Meet the Press isn't a fake news show at all. This means that really was Frist. This means that Frist is a complete (insert favorite insult here).

Advice About Landlords When Looking For Apartments

As Dave Chappelle said, "If your landlord is a crackhead, you got to have rent."

I gave a check to a woman who wanted me to rent a room in her house. After being denied 5 or 6 places because I was an alleged male and thus allegedly filthy, I was getting desperate for an apartment. I also only had one week to move as the parental units had decided it was high time to sell their house. The morning of our appointment she calls me and asks for twenty more minutes before I come over. Ok. No problem, early mornings are rough. But it is a Wednesday, maybe she just needs to call work to tell them she might be late, I think to myself. After waiting outside, I see the place and it is a room in her house. The room has not yet been vacated, but whoever was currently residing in it was actually filthy. The closet is full of open and half empty bottles of gatorade and other sports drinks. The mattress has no sheets and looks like it was rescued from a condemned, defunct homeless shelter. The floor is stained and the room reeks. The hardwood floor has been damaged by what I hoped was only sports drinks. It is about ten feet by ten feet. I ask how much and she replies with $450. She says that she would be willing to cut breaks on the rent if I can fix certain ailments around the house like the leaky bathroom window, the rotten grout in the bathroom tile, and the damaged floors. Warning! I ignore this with some mumbled non-committals. I ask if that includes utilities and she says no. There is no central air and she says that everything is divided by fourths, including cable (she has the only box in the basement), high speed internet, and all utilities. I think this is preposterous given the amount of appliances I saw plugged into her outlets in the basement, but I am desperate and she says that in the summer it typically only comes to $75 each. In the winter she claims that it typically runs up to $150 each. I ask if she publishes the utility bills. She says no. Warning!

A little bit about this landlady. She is 30 something and has been smoking cigarettes too long. She seems vehemently liberal which is a plus, but then she admits to not having had a job ever since her parents bought her this house. Warning! We sit down to talk turkey and she details a bare bones lease agreement. I get out my checkbook. I ask her about the garden and she talks about her projects that she pretends to work on. I garden and I can tell that she hasn't been out doing a damn thing for at least a month, given the amount of weeds growing out back. Warning! I ask her about parties as I think, it won't be that bad. I can still bike to work and I'll be near the Metro and stuff. She says that during the summer, yeah she likes to throw some parties. I ask her about drug use and clarify that if I see anything worse than weed, including LSD, than I will have moved out before her hangover clears up the next day. She responds with a declaration of how she doesn't like to infringe on anyone else's good time but there are limits. I restate my position and say that if I see any coke, I will be gone and to hell with the lease. She says, almost direct quote, 'oh yeah, man, I have had my own problems with coke and I totally understand your position.' What? Warning! 'I mean, I get some coke in me and I can't stop. I know this guy who always has some and when we get together, I always find myself three or four months down the road totally strung out and hurt.' Warning! Now, I am a person who understands that problems take time, but I am not a dipshit. I also understand the difference in acknowledging a problem and getting help with said problem. This was not the case with her. I handed her the check I had finished writing as she spoke. I made my pleasantries and then left. The next day I called her to tell her I was not going to rent the place and put a stop payment on that check. I just saw her listing on craigslist. She needs two new roommates and the rent is now $600 for the same shitty rooms I saw.

She passes herself off as a roommate instead of the owner. She has a periodic coke problem. The house is falling apart and the rooms are tiny for the money. Some people just want too much.

Underwear: Evolution

I missed the showing of Dead Ringers last night at the AFI theater because I was wrong about the showtime. The entire night was all thrown off. I made my first mistake by getting the time wrong. My second mistake was walking in 30 MPH winds. It was pretty freaking cold. The third mistake of the night was getting a burrito at Baja Fresh. That was freaking awful. Their burritoes are generally of poorer quality, but I find their sauces and salsas to be more than acceptable, at least in terms of variety of flavors. I ended up with their burrito mexicano and chicken. As I was paying, they said they were out of chicken so I went with the steak option. This was the first warning sign. The second sign that told me to go elsewhere was that they were closing as I ordered. The burrito was scraped together from all the leftovers and was in no way fresh as the name implied. I had ample oppurtunity to cancel the order and follow my gut out the door, but I was stubborn for some cloacular reason and waited. I put some medium pico and salsa verde in two extruded petrolium byproduct containers, received my burrito and chips and forged out into the wind to go get a seat for the movie. Upon my arrival, I found that I was almost an hour late for the start of the movie and felt stupid. So I went around the corner and got a ticket for Underworld: Evolution. I probably should have seen Good Night and Good Luck or The Squid and the Whale, but I am a little politicalled out right now. Besides, I have all of next week to entertain myself before the nuclear apocalypse.

Underworld was ok, I guess. The cargo container sex scene was straight up fan service. The rest of it fit together well, but the beginning seemed to be a prelude to a completely different set of movies compared with the first. This was smoothed over in an acceptable way. Being more than a little colorblind, I found the excessive use of angry eyes contacts to be a little annoying, simply because I couldn't tell if someone's eyes were grey, blue, pink, silver or whatever. This wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't blatantly clear that it was important to the story. I should totally call the ADA about this violation of my rights. As an aside, apparently iodine is reddish brown. I have always thought it was bright green.

A Series of Links

These stories are all pretty old but I only just found them.

Rock planet found.

Dead worlds from 2003.

Big rock planet found.

Strange star systems.

More wild wacky stellar stuff.

I like Says You and this is a link.

The Coffee Shop Near Work Nearly Burned to the Ground Yesterday

Because I found out they were holding out on me. They hide the crumb cake until the afternoon. I was close to calling down the fires of heaven and rendering the employees into a fine red paste and salting the smoking hole that was left by the meteors with their blood. This was the legacy of my ancestry flaming within me. I wanted them to cower in fear and acquiesce to my demand for the crumb cake. I held fire in my right hand and brimstone in my left. I could destroy shatter the sky with my righteous fury. Thus is the cycle of father's family renewed. Had I been in an airport or car rental agency, my rage would have burst forth like a fiery Athena and smote all in an futile effort to sate my lust for vengeance.

I didn't even glare at the employees that delivered this unholiest of unholy news, I just looked at them. No frown. No sneer. Just a flat, deadly look. They were sore afraid. The poor girls backed away from the counter. I calmed the raging inferno that was my being with the knowledge that it wasn't their fault. I left without incident after gathering my expensive espresso drink. Should I next see the manager, she will not be so lucky.

Although, in hindsight, I bet I looked like a bit of psycho to the three people in line because they were definitely looking at me with odd expressions.

A Challenger to Butterstick's Throne

Butterstick isn't the sole provider of cute in the world. I submit this photo as evidence.


The A-Rod has issued a challenge. Huzzah! Whatchoo got now, B-Stizzle?

FYI: This is not my child.

I Needed Another Reason, Really I Did

Everyone else will be blogging better than I about this subject today. How badly can a person screw up a Presidency? I suppose a better question would be, how badly does a person have to screw up for all of the people that voted for him to rescind their support?

If anybody is looking for me, I'll be at this. I wonder if I'll get arrested. I am not likely to throw rocks or anything, but the police in DC are not known for being all that intelligent during these events. Ah well, I suppose I ought to dust off my Circle Jerks and other punk music to get in the mood. Who am I kidding? I was never punk.

A very CleverGirl sent me these links, but since she is not a presence on the internet, I had to dream her up out of pixiefairy dust.

Moron the subject.

Yet More Musical Diversion

Friday the 20th, I went out with some peeps from my hood to see some shizzle down at the coffee shop. This coffee shop was in Vienna, VA and is harder to get to than Vienna, Austria. This show would have been so much cooler if it hadn't been all ages. And in Virginia. In case you haven't heard yet, Virginia is the worst state in the Union.* Everything is spread out and crappy. The suburbs do not end and are in no way entertaining or interesting. Traffic is non-stop and the singles scene would give you something horrible.** All ages shows can reliably and cogently labeled as a bad idea.***

Anyway, the peeps and I were there to see some people play instruments in a coordinated fashion. The first group runs under the monniker of Pepper's Ghost. It is guessed that they may be some sort of Beatles cover band. They were ok, but could use a little tuning. They did a pretty good cover of In My Life, but it was not tweaked at all.

The headliners were Washington Social Club. These guys were pretty darn good. I found that I could understand all of the lyrics and they were well written songs. The sound was much more professional than the previous group and they felt like quality musicians that had time to really gel as a group. I would definitely go see them again. I am even likely to go buy their album. May God damn you, fulsome, and take you and all your indie rock cred straight to hell. This is all your fault.

A moment of your time, if you will, for a discussion of all ages shows. The discussion:
Side A: All ages shows suck.
Side B: Yes, but how do they suck?
Side A: They suck because there are children running around in misfits sweatshirts that have never even heard any of them.
Side B: I would argue that all ages shows suck because they make you feel like a dirty old man.
Side A: I must agree but I shall add that all ages shows make me feel like I have snuck into some rival high school's dance.
Side B: Do you have anything further to enter into evidence?
Side A: When kids bump into you, people give you dirty looks if you bump back. Where's my cane?

*In a poll of recent people who write on this blog.
**I have only been on two, ok, three dates in VA and they were only below average. I am not an expert on the social aspects of Virginia.
***Completely true. Damn jailbait, Girls Gone Wild wannabes.

Music is Potatoetally Diverting: The Pietasters

I went to the Pietaster's show at the 930 Club on the 7th of January. The second of the three opening acts was terrible. I can't even remember their band name. The bassist had a wireless, so drool all you want Pop Ren, but remember that they still sucked. Anyway, the bassist was pretty athletic and stuff, jumping around and getting all fancy, but he was nothing compared to the guitarist. This guy was all over the place. He even did a somersault while playing. This may be a truly average trick, but it was the first time I'd seen it and I was desperate for some reason not to rip my ears off and stab my eyes with a straw.
The Slackers were up next. These guys are really good ska. They have a sound that is sterotypical ska, but not in the bad way. They have the suits and the talent. Checkout their site and their music if you like that sort of thing. Me, I hate music and never go to shows. Musicians piss me off.
The Pietasters are good. The show was good. They're good all over. After a few songs they played one of my personal favorites, Biblical Sense, which was nice. I was peeved by the 930 Club's decision to list only the Pietasters on their website and then run three opening bands. This delay was unexpected and unappreciated by me and my company. I am not a fan of that establishment because of their ripoff convenience charge scam and tickets dot com can go suck an egg. I had to pay as much in fees as I paid for the tickets. But the music was good. Check this linky dink to make your own decision.

My Favorite Position

Allow me to restate my position. I do not have the authority to tell someone how to make a choice in life and neither does anyone else. The exceptions are parents and the state in public health and safety areas. Canuck, you have declared that you feel that you can make other's decisions for them. This ability stems from a perceived moral superiority on your part. This is where we differ.

My perceived moral superiority moral comes is derived from a desire to let people make their own choices and even mistakes. A person should be taught responsibility (how is a topic for another discussion.) and should pay for any harm caused to individuals or society at large. Free will is an important part of our society and should be protected. This does mean that people are free to invent the wheel chair and have sex. People are free to get pregnant or buy cars. There are consequences to every action. If someone were to perform an action that is deemed harmful to society, then they should be punished. This is why we have a legal system. These learned people determine whether harm has been caused and exert a suitable punishment. Barring certain science fiction scenarios, abortion is not harmful to society. The great and unholy act of gay marriage, or marriage in general, shall be discussed at a later date.

Canuck, your perceived morality stems from a position of claimed authority. According to your comments, you know better than others how to handle questions of morality and thus should be allowed to dictate actions. I do not know the source of your morality but I am curious. You have claimed that you are not a Christian, so I remain curious. Your handle indicates that you might descend from those crazy socialists known as Canadians. If this is so, why do you even care what goes on in a moralistic debate of such a pointless topic for your political life? An American decision about the legality or morality of abortion won't have any import for foreigners until we have run much further down the Great Big List of Reasons to Bomb Other People. Furthermore, your claim that only liberals have abortions is completely ridiculous. If you were able to prove that, I might never blog again.

I derailed a bit at the end. I really don't understand why anyone cares if someone they don't know has an abortion. What does it matter?

Pursuant to That Subject, Vis a Vis, Cinema

I went to the American Film Institute's Silver Theater in Silver Spring, MD yesterday for their showing of Spider as part of the Cronenberg Retrospective. I liked it and tried to look up the review in the AV Club that I am always mentioning, but it was either buried in their subscription service or no longer archived digitally. In any event, I liked the aura of menace and insanity. I am going to see Dead Ringers on Friday and The Dead Zone on Saturday. Those should be thoroughly bizarre.

A linky dink for the cinema creep in everyone.

I Guess This is Completely Uncool

Baywatch Hasselhoff You are Baywatch Hasselhoff. You're up for running around on the beach with hotties, as well as tanning, smiling, and being as buff and sexy as being Hasselhoff will allow. You also like to think that you've actually saved a few lives as a lifeguard; but that's just the product of some other, far more sinister, psychological "quirk." Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

More on the Subject

Nail Gun Massacre.

I really can't emphasis how horrible this movie is. It isn't as bad as Bloodrayne, although only because it is clear that the director cared enough to do more than one take. The only way you know he tried more than one take is due to the so-called Deleted Scenes and Outtakes which are really just effed up takes.

The plot is simplistic and has a Friday the 13th part 2 ending. The dialogue is worse and most of the actors look like they were hillbillies that were roped, probably literally, into performing because they were the first people the director saw on the street/dirt road after setting up his shots.

In a town, and I use the term extremely loosely, of maybe fifty to a hundred people, perhaps 30 people are killed by a nail gun. The sheriff has trouble figuring out how the killer got people to stand still enough for him/her to hammer in the nails. Even though the only obvious sources of employment in the town are the sheriff's office, coroner's office and the multitude of construction sites, the sheriff has never heard of a nail gun. No one stops to inform him of this miracle of modern tool design, but whatever, after all they aren't paid enough to remember their lines.

The director, Terry Lofton, is proud of his creation, which is cool. He apparently got his start as a stuntman for the Dukes of Hazzard, which is even cooler. He makes comments in the commentary over the Deleted Scenes and Outtakes that are essentially him asking for money to make the sequel, which is by far the coolest part of the movie. Terry Lofton has giant, brass balls.

Next to see: California Axe Massacre

Some Movie Reviews

The Forbidden Zone
What can I say about this movie that has never been said before. Pretty much everything. It was recommended to me by a friend from college, we shall call him ZZorro. ZZorro and I share a love of the crappiest films of all time. We differ in other areas, but in terms of crapfests, we are in synergy.

This movie was not really craptacular. Richard Elfman wrote and directed this movie, using that word fairly loosely, and Danny Elfman wrote most of the lyrics and songs. I thought this movie seemed odd and more like a few slapped together viniettes and I was right. According to IMDB's trivia page, that is exactly what it was. The Elfman brothers wanted to string together their musical numbers and jotted down some story. Normally, this would either involve songs that were vaguely similar in nature or topic or a very imaginative writer. Neither of these requirements were met. This is not to say that the result is not hideously fascinating or even boring. In fact, I think that this movie is of an extremely rare breed and was pretty funny. I thought at first that Richard Elfman was trying to unseat Rocky Horror Picture Show for midnight madness. Then I thought that they had hired the first person who admitted to being a writer at the California Penitentiary for the Criminally Insane. I sat there laughing and watching and I finally realized that I just didn't care. The Forbidden Zone is great, psychedelic(in the proper use of the term), musical, bizarre fun.

If you think this movie sounds nifty, try: Dead Alive(Best Movie Ever Featuring a Room Full of Zombies and a Lawnmower), Blood and Donuts(Best Movie with Donuts in the Name Only), Demon Wind(Best Movie Ever Featuring Demon and Wind in the Name Only) or