At my job, it is mandated that we have two news channels running 24-7. This is supposed to help us assess worldy situations that may affect the Navy, particularly the submarine force. Only once, in the past year that I have been working here, has anything shown up on the news that affected the submarine force. We knew about the issue way before it even showed up on television, so "thanks news", but we had it covered. In the past couple of months, some issues have arisen that have compromised the flexibility of these "TV rules". First, I just want to say, that I am 27 years old and someone still tells me what I'm allowed to watch on TV. Granted, it is a government television, but regardless it is still ridiculous. A few months ago, our boss came in super-early only to find one of my co-workers watching a movie, so the facade was finally off. During the midnight watch, there isn't much going on, so movies, TV shows, etc. are ways to stay awake and pass the time. I don't think there has ever been an issue with neglecting our jobs in the name of South Park, but when the boss-man says no, it means no, at least to their knowledge. I doubt they go home at night and think of ways to catch us sneaking some Fresh Prince re-run at 0300, but if they happen to come into work that early, they don't expect to see it on either. It is a desperate game, and even more desperate for me since I don't have cable at home and this is my way to watch anything but local channels (they suck in Hawaii).
The idea that CNN, MSNBC, and FOXNEWS actually contain any amount of "news" is absurd. I've watched easily over 1000 hours of this crap over the past year, and literally, two straight months of Anna Nicole baby trial. Nothing else is ever on these scholarly programs except tabloid journalism, ever. Newscasters cannot seperate facts with their own personal feelings, so that is what you get. I'm sure most of those people got the job, not for their intellectual analysis abilities, but because they look good on camera and can read. It comes out in the stupid shit that spews from the boob tube news networks. I've come to the conclusion that all the news channels don't really tell us anything about society. They only thing reported is the dregs of our communities: murders, rapes, robberies, disappearances, war, poverty, celebrities.... all of them equally as horrible as the next. What about the successes? What about the people who succeed and make a difference. What about the little retarded boy who learns that his diapers aren't a source of food and then learns to play the guitar? That is the kind of stuff that I want to hear about, the true triumphs of mankind. Oh yeah, and midgets, I need more of that, they make everyone happy.
So why are we forced to watch this crap? I think we should be forced to leave it on the Sci Fi channel. Sci Fi comes out with original TV shows and movies, which are all equally amazing. I believe that Americans would be better if they watched more Sci Fi channel original movies, with gothsblood. For example, the movie Frankenfish is about a pack of giant, killer, snakehead fish taking over a Louisiana Bayou..... or is it? China Chow and her buddies, represent the multi-culturalism of society. There are the elderly couple who refuse to leave the swamp, and get their ass eaten. There is the crazy redneck who swims around in the water despite the monster fish, and gets his ass eaten. There is the old, black voodoo guy who gets his ass eaten, but not without a few funny quips. The other residents band together to resist the corporation that is trying to move in and farm the snakehead fish for the military, and China Chow gets her ass eaten.... quite literally. So basically, minorities, elderly, and white guys all get their ass eaten, but not without accomplishing the feat of defeating the flesh eating snakehead fish. Equality and Triumph, the success of man against adversity while facing society's stereotypes. This kind of shit would never get put on the news, only Sci Fi.
Sci Fi lets us see the strengths in society, not the weaknesses depicted by CNN. What did I ever do to witness all the men come forth who claimed Anna Nicoles baby? Seriously, is the biggest, most ground breaking news about all the guys that some drugged up porn star had slept with in her life? Has America become so desensitized to these horrible, secular, demoralized celebrities that we actually care about their baby's dady? Well, the semi-retarded news anchors sure seem to think so. They also seem to think that 14 straight hours of Britney's legal troubles is much more important than the state of Iran's nuclear power program. Again, I turn to Sci Fi to tell me what kind of amazing things can happen in the face of adversity, as true American would.
ManShark was the creation of a government agency's attempt at making sharks smarter by infusing human DNA with shark DNA. They were seeing good results, until they used too much human DNA and produced a ManShark. They kept it in its own tank, held closed by a door with a flywheel, the highest that technology had to offer them. Needless to say, ManShark got loose, ate all the dolphins in the facility and a few lab techs, and escaped to the open ocean. This brings us to our local island in the Caribbean, which is where the ManShark has started to call home. Ernie Hudson and the guy from Coach end up banding together to combat ManShark, and end up rapidly depressurizing it in a hyperbaric chamber to kill it. Sci Fi just showed us how blacks and whites can work together and employ their education in sciences to overcome adversity. It showed how education is color blind in America and the key to our children's future is by increasing America's aptitude in the sciences. We just learned a great deal about what it will really take to turn our tide towards better school standards. Thank you ManShark, even though you showed those poor villagers no compassion when you disemboweled them one by one, including Ernie Hudson, you showed America the key to our children's future.
Sci Fi channel and gothsblood forever.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Old people love getting hit by cars
I live in Hawaii, which leads the nation, currently, in traffic related pedestrian fatalities. I'm not lying, even with a fraction of the population of a large, mainland city and speed limits that rarely exceed 30 mph, even on the highway..... peeps are getting wacked. There are a few reasons for this.
1) Hawaii residents are the worst drivers on the planet. God's honest truth, the worst drivers on the planet. I've witnessed feats of stupidity that are hard to explain. On a busy road, I've seen someone slam on their breaks to let a car pull out from a side street. I've seen people stop their cars in the middle of the highway for a fender bender, well within sight of the giant breakdown lane or shoulder. A woman stared at a green light long enough, magically, it fucking turned red. Guess who was the car behind her??? Good guess. I lost my shit and probably broke a blood vessel in my brain or my anus. I could go on and on, but what is the point, this happens multiple times each day and it is almost routine for me to see a driver that I'd rather trust with a hair-trigger Uzi and high on crystal meth, than with an automobile.
2) Crosswalks are everywhere. Is that a good thing? No it isn't, I am completely desensitized to them, mainly because seeing a crosswalk is about as common as seeing a lane marker. They will be at random spots along each road, not associated with a signal, traffic light, stop sign, or anything. People use them too, and they think they are magical realms that defy the laws of physics. Apparently, most pedestrians think that when they enter a crosswalk it enables a car moving at 30 mph to stop in 10 feet. Oh yeah, it works better if you walk onto this crosswalk from between two parked cars, at twilight or dusk, wearing black and listening to an iPod.
3) Lots of old people. I respect old people, don't get me wrong. I'll be old someday, my grandparents are old, old people are fine. If you are in Hawaii and are old, you probably like getting hit by cars. Forget crosswalks, forget traffic lights and cars, I guess at a certain age, Hawaiians aren't aware of any of those. There is actually a commercial asking drivers to be aware of pedestrians. It shows some poor old woman trying to cross a busy street/highway, not at a crosswalk. If I'm driving down the highway, the last thing that I will be looking for is someone about to dart across traffic because it is the quickest way to the drugstore. It would be like going for a walk and always worrying about a piano falling on your head.
I've been driving on pitch black roads on the mainland and have seen deer wait until you are close and dart out in front, barely becoming a hood ornament. I imagine the same thing is happening here. Alot of old Hawaiians are waiting in the bushes all over the place, and just run out in traffic at random times. I don't know what is worse, the fact that people are getting hit by cars, or the fact that the cars don't swerve. Maybe it cancels out, but if my insurance goes up because USAA knows about these wild old people trying to run out into traffic, I'll be pretty pissed.
1) Hawaii residents are the worst drivers on the planet. God's honest truth, the worst drivers on the planet. I've witnessed feats of stupidity that are hard to explain. On a busy road, I've seen someone slam on their breaks to let a car pull out from a side street. I've seen people stop their cars in the middle of the highway for a fender bender, well within sight of the giant breakdown lane or shoulder. A woman stared at a green light long enough, magically, it fucking turned red. Guess who was the car behind her??? Good guess. I lost my shit and probably broke a blood vessel in my brain or my anus. I could go on and on, but what is the point, this happens multiple times each day and it is almost routine for me to see a driver that I'd rather trust with a hair-trigger Uzi and high on crystal meth, than with an automobile.
2) Crosswalks are everywhere. Is that a good thing? No it isn't, I am completely desensitized to them, mainly because seeing a crosswalk is about as common as seeing a lane marker. They will be at random spots along each road, not associated with a signal, traffic light, stop sign, or anything. People use them too, and they think they are magical realms that defy the laws of physics. Apparently, most pedestrians think that when they enter a crosswalk it enables a car moving at 30 mph to stop in 10 feet. Oh yeah, it works better if you walk onto this crosswalk from between two parked cars, at twilight or dusk, wearing black and listening to an iPod.
3) Lots of old people. I respect old people, don't get me wrong. I'll be old someday, my grandparents are old, old people are fine. If you are in Hawaii and are old, you probably like getting hit by cars. Forget crosswalks, forget traffic lights and cars, I guess at a certain age, Hawaiians aren't aware of any of those. There is actually a commercial asking drivers to be aware of pedestrians. It shows some poor old woman trying to cross a busy street/highway, not at a crosswalk. If I'm driving down the highway, the last thing that I will be looking for is someone about to dart across traffic because it is the quickest way to the drugstore. It would be like going for a walk and always worrying about a piano falling on your head.
I've been driving on pitch black roads on the mainland and have seen deer wait until you are close and dart out in front, barely becoming a hood ornament. I imagine the same thing is happening here. Alot of old Hawaiians are waiting in the bushes all over the place, and just run out in traffic at random times. I don't know what is worse, the fact that people are getting hit by cars, or the fact that the cars don't swerve. Maybe it cancels out, but if my insurance goes up because USAA knows about these wild old people trying to run out into traffic, I'll be pretty pissed.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
My pet monster
My pet monster doesn't have a giant nose that looks like a pickle and it doesn't have plastic chains, so basically, it isn't that stuffed animal from the early 90's. It is Wookie, the for-mentioned devil-spawn dog in the previous blog. As we know, Wookie loves to seek vengance by shitting, but lately, it has become and exhibition as well. I'm pretty sure he waits for any kind of audience, and as an up-and-coming amateur scat-artist (as I may be so rash to say), he will settle for anything. The first instance that I realized we not only have a dog, but a performance artist, was at my wife's Pampered Chef party that she threw. The reason I am saying "she" instead of "we", is that all I managed to accomplish was cleaning our house, then leading all the husbands into the garage for a drinking fest. I'm sure we managed to piss off all the wives (I know I did). Anyway, all the guest got settled and the Pampered Chef Rep started the show..... well Wookie had an idea for a different show. He picked a lull in the presentation to wriggle his way into the middle of the circle of chairs, draw everyone's attention by acting cute, and then took a giant shit on the floor. It was huge. Jenna was mortified, and I didn't make it any better by laughing my ass off, and I got re-banned to the garage.... along with the Wookie monster.
He's definitely been good lately, no performance masterpieces of note, until today's Christmas party for the children at my wife's work...... Wookie has a little Santa outfit that we make him wear over the holidays. It looks really funny and he actually gets a kick out of it, or so we seem to think. Today, on my way into work, I was supposed to drop him off at my wife's work in preparation for a party they were throwing for all the children of the employees. It was set up very nicely, my wife was going to wear an elf costume, and Santa himself was supposed to show up. Wookie was supposed to be Santa's helper, he kind of looked like the dog from "the Grinch" with his little outfit. We walked into her work, he ran up to her, said "hi" to a few people (by barking or running away from them) and then we sat down in her office. I walked him outside before we went inside, and he made NO attempt to shit. Once we were all nice and settled and about to start the party, Wookie waltzed into the middle of the room, the largest open space possible, and took a giant shit. This one was for the books. Santa costume and all, that dog shat like it was going out of style. Instead of a windmill, if there was a shitmill, it could have powered a small community for a day. He must have been a shit smuggler in a past life, because he brought a truckload across the border. If Wookie wanted to work in the fudge business, he'd own Hersheys..... I think I heard the damned dog making grunting noises, and he may have pulled out a magazine, I'm not sure, I had a bad angle.
He's definitely been good lately, no performance masterpieces of note, until today's Christmas party for the children at my wife's work...... Wookie has a little Santa outfit that we make him wear over the holidays. It looks really funny and he actually gets a kick out of it, or so we seem to think. Today, on my way into work, I was supposed to drop him off at my wife's work in preparation for a party they were throwing for all the children of the employees. It was set up very nicely, my wife was going to wear an elf costume, and Santa himself was supposed to show up. Wookie was supposed to be Santa's helper, he kind of looked like the dog from "the Grinch" with his little outfit. We walked into her work, he ran up to her, said "hi" to a few people (by barking or running away from them) and then we sat down in her office. I walked him outside before we went inside, and he made NO attempt to shit. Once we were all nice and settled and about to start the party, Wookie waltzed into the middle of the room, the largest open space possible, and took a giant shit. This one was for the books. Santa costume and all, that dog shat like it was going out of style. Instead of a windmill, if there was a shitmill, it could have powered a small community for a day. He must have been a shit smuggler in a past life, because he brought a truckload across the border. If Wookie wanted to work in the fudge business, he'd own Hersheys..... I think I heard the damned dog making grunting noises, and he may have pulled out a magazine, I'm not sure, I had a bad angle.
Holidays....... Hallmark kiss my ass!
When the holiday season rolls around, I feel like I've stepped underneath some mistletoe and the closest thing for me to kiss is a giant dog turd. I'm positive things have been blown out of proportion in the years and years of celebrating Saint Nick, the Menorah, strapping dynamite to your chest and praising Allah (or whatever they do), or just plain gorging on food and putting up the biggest pagan symbol of all, the tree. Anyway, it can be fun and usually, after it is all said and done, everybody has had a good time, drank too much, eaten too much, and done way too many dishes. We started off this season with our anniversary, which was awesome, and writing our friends and family over 200 cards (usually not awesome, but I skipped out of it, genious!). Thanks to final exams and a lovely work schedule, things have pretty much blown up to this point.
This year, there are too many parties to go to (although some I am looking forward to), too many commitments, and too much stuff that frankly, I don't give a shit about. I wonder when people or planning committees, or other vindictive souls that organize all this crap, sit down to figure out the holiday events, they are disappointed that there aren't more hours in a day to waste time drinking punch and eating Safeway cookies. My problem is, I am too nice to say no, and the general lack of understanding of the importance of exams to me from most people, has led to a point where even though I have a lot of work to do, I don't even want to get out of bed. All of this to blame is an overall, worldwide conspiracy to cheapen whatever religious ceremony that caused this season to begin in the first place. I'm sorry, but if it wasn't for Christians and Jews (well, mainly Jesus), then this whole holiday season would be really just a end of year break. New Years Eve is the last of all things to be a sacred celebration. Personally, I don't even remember the last 8 New Years Eves, which is probably a good thing.
So how does all this ridiculousness accumulate until people are crying in church, thanking God that the holidays are over with?........ Fucking Hallmark, damn right. If you've ever walked into a Hallmark store, it will make the average person scream with terror. Every shelf is busy with some kind of decoration, stuffed toy that makes noise, card with candy, just everything imaginable that would drive a self-respecting male to cry and claw at the doors. The women love this shit, I'm sure they don't even know what they are buying most of the time. My wife, I love her, asked for ornaments for Christmas this year. Not for something to hang on the tree this year, but as a present for Christmas. I'll get them, because I love making her happy and I love her, but that is what has happened. Hallmark has taken over her brain, like the other day, she ordered an Elf costume from Amazon, for a good reason, but I digress; the main distributer is.... Hallmark. Asking for ornaments for Christmas is like asking to turn a year older on your birthday, it's written in the script, ornaments are supposed to be bought at Christmas, but not FOR Christmas. I bet if Hallmark sold surfboards, I'd have a freaking red and green 6'10", 6'5", and 8'0" like I really want. Sure, I'll look like Freddy Krueger surfing out on the waves, or a cracked out Santa Claus, but that store seriously puts LSD in their ventilation system and plays subliminal messages in their constantly streaming Christmas music. BTW, the only day of the year that you won't hear Christmas music in Hallmark is my birthday, July 2nd. Maybe a few other days too, but who knows. I'm not trying to be a Scrooge, but it has become easier over the years, that is for sure. I'm sure next year we will be flying home or something, watching some movie sponsored by Hallmark on Hallmark Air. I think next time in Hallmark, I'm going to shit my pants at the cash register and then leave without paying, that'll show them...... fucking Hallmark.
This year, there are too many parties to go to (although some I am looking forward to), too many commitments, and too much stuff that frankly, I don't give a shit about. I wonder when people or planning committees, or other vindictive souls that organize all this crap, sit down to figure out the holiday events, they are disappointed that there aren't more hours in a day to waste time drinking punch and eating Safeway cookies. My problem is, I am too nice to say no, and the general lack of understanding of the importance of exams to me from most people, has led to a point where even though I have a lot of work to do, I don't even want to get out of bed. All of this to blame is an overall, worldwide conspiracy to cheapen whatever religious ceremony that caused this season to begin in the first place. I'm sorry, but if it wasn't for Christians and Jews (well, mainly Jesus), then this whole holiday season would be really just a end of year break. New Years Eve is the last of all things to be a sacred celebration. Personally, I don't even remember the last 8 New Years Eves, which is probably a good thing.
So how does all this ridiculousness accumulate until people are crying in church, thanking God that the holidays are over with?........ Fucking Hallmark, damn right. If you've ever walked into a Hallmark store, it will make the average person scream with terror. Every shelf is busy with some kind of decoration, stuffed toy that makes noise, card with candy, just everything imaginable that would drive a self-respecting male to cry and claw at the doors. The women love this shit, I'm sure they don't even know what they are buying most of the time. My wife, I love her, asked for ornaments for Christmas this year. Not for something to hang on the tree this year, but as a present for Christmas. I'll get them, because I love making her happy and I love her, but that is what has happened. Hallmark has taken over her brain, like the other day, she ordered an Elf costume from Amazon, for a good reason, but I digress; the main distributer is.... Hallmark. Asking for ornaments for Christmas is like asking to turn a year older on your birthday, it's written in the script, ornaments are supposed to be bought at Christmas, but not FOR Christmas. I bet if Hallmark sold surfboards, I'd have a freaking red and green 6'10", 6'5", and 8'0" like I really want. Sure, I'll look like Freddy Krueger surfing out on the waves, or a cracked out Santa Claus, but that store seriously puts LSD in their ventilation system and plays subliminal messages in their constantly streaming Christmas music. BTW, the only day of the year that you won't hear Christmas music in Hallmark is my birthday, July 2nd. Maybe a few other days too, but who knows. I'm not trying to be a Scrooge, but it has become easier over the years, that is for sure. I'm sure next year we will be flying home or something, watching some movie sponsored by Hallmark on Hallmark Air. I think next time in Hallmark, I'm going to shit my pants at the cash register and then leave without paying, that'll show them...... fucking Hallmark.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Bundles of Grundle
I went to a very interesting middle school. It was predominantly white Jews or WASPs. Most parents were filthy rich, I was a middle class Catholic who happened to get a scholarship. Lucky me. Anyway, it was a good experience, it taught me what never to be like and gave me a distinct hatred of Volvos and Saabs since most of the kids' parents bought them those cars to drive. I was on the campus of Connecticut College, which I had to take a bus to every morning at the asscrack of dawn. Homeroom was at 0715 and we got out of class at 1530, so a significantly longer day than most middle schools, but it gets worse. The Headmaster (no I was not in Griffindorf) played Pachebel's Cannon in D Major over the loud speakers every morning for 2 years. Every morning, it never failed. I hear that song now and I get the weird smell of muffins in my nose, I have no idea why, maybe because the kitchen was cooking them that early, or maybe because rich people smell like muffins.
At that age, I had no idea what was going on, absolutely none. The only thing I had going for me was that I may have been the only person in that school who had ever gone to a public school. Not only a public school, but one with minorities! Ooooooo, exciting! Well, it was all pretty normal to me, but even for a school with a bunch of Jews, it was a pretty bigoted place. On year, this kid Jonah showed up. Jonah was a funny guy. He was a little larger, but athletic. He was funny, always happy, and laughed a lot. So naturally, people wanted to torment him, including me. We were good friends, but he was probably the most gullible person I have ever met. He also was desperate to fit in with everyone. At the time where slumber parties were still a huge hit, this was crucial. If a new band came out and someone liked them, Jonah liked them too. A new pro-team fad, Jonah had the hat. A new sneaker, you get the point. We caught onto this after a while, but god help him when we did.
Most of our sporting events' transportation was provided by the parents, which I was fine with because I hated school buses (another long story). We had been working for about two weeks to convince Jonah that a new cereal had come out that we all loved. We all couldn't believe he hadn't tried it, so Jonah felt severely out of place and didn't know what to do. Chances are very high that he looked everywhere for this cereal, but because it was so popular, alas, it was "out of stock". The cereal's name was "Bundles of Grundle" and was completely fictitious. Jonah loved that cereal, because we all loved it. He loved it so much that he wanted to strike up a conversation with his mom about it on the way to one of our basketball games. "Mom, you know that cereal we keep getting, Bundles of Grundle? Isn't is awesome?" "Jonah, what the hell are you talking about, that is disgusting, don't talk like that." "Mom, seriously, tell the guys how much we like it." Well, that was the end of that conversation because she pretty much flipped out on him and we were trying so hard not to laugh that snot was running out of our ears. Needless to say, when the truth came out, Jonah's mom called most of our parents and because it was a prissy ass private school, the public school kid got blamed for it, me. I ate the bundle of grundle.
At that age, I had no idea what was going on, absolutely none. The only thing I had going for me was that I may have been the only person in that school who had ever gone to a public school. Not only a public school, but one with minorities! Ooooooo, exciting! Well, it was all pretty normal to me, but even for a school with a bunch of Jews, it was a pretty bigoted place. On year, this kid Jonah showed up. Jonah was a funny guy. He was a little larger, but athletic. He was funny, always happy, and laughed a lot. So naturally, people wanted to torment him, including me. We were good friends, but he was probably the most gullible person I have ever met. He also was desperate to fit in with everyone. At the time where slumber parties were still a huge hit, this was crucial. If a new band came out and someone liked them, Jonah liked them too. A new pro-team fad, Jonah had the hat. A new sneaker, you get the point. We caught onto this after a while, but god help him when we did.
Most of our sporting events' transportation was provided by the parents, which I was fine with because I hated school buses (another long story). We had been working for about two weeks to convince Jonah that a new cereal had come out that we all loved. We all couldn't believe he hadn't tried it, so Jonah felt severely out of place and didn't know what to do. Chances are very high that he looked everywhere for this cereal, but because it was so popular, alas, it was "out of stock". The cereal's name was "Bundles of Grundle" and was completely fictitious. Jonah loved that cereal, because we all loved it. He loved it so much that he wanted to strike up a conversation with his mom about it on the way to one of our basketball games. "Mom, you know that cereal we keep getting, Bundles of Grundle? Isn't is awesome?" "Jonah, what the hell are you talking about, that is disgusting, don't talk like that." "Mom, seriously, tell the guys how much we like it." Well, that was the end of that conversation because she pretty much flipped out on him and we were trying so hard not to laugh that snot was running out of our ears. Needless to say, when the truth came out, Jonah's mom called most of our parents and because it was a prissy ass private school, the public school kid got blamed for it, me. I ate the bundle of grundle.
getting flicked off by Netflix
I am a regular Netflix user. I like movies, although recently, I haven't had the time or the patience or the interest. However, every two-three days, I eagerly anticipate the arrival of the mail. I usually get into a particular mood and create a queue that I forget about 10 seconds later. I am usually too lazy to check up on it too, so each movie is a surprise. I'll tell you another surprise... when two other people share your account and erase what you put in there entirely. Before, I knew I would be somewhat interested in what arrives, now it's all up in the air.
Most of the movies that women rent are out of habit, i.e. dramas, tearjeckers, romantic comedies, disney movies, whatever. I'm not saying that is what they all enjoy, but when choosing, I'm sure hormones play a huge role in clicking the box marked "Send to Queue". I have seen "Terms of Endearment", some Suze Orman self help money movies, and "Transamerica" come in recently, to name a few.
"Terms of Endearment" is one of the most depressing movies ever made. Nothing is redeeming about it, it is sad, and just makes you feel bad at the end. The synopsis doesn't hide the fact either, so you know what you are getting. Good acting though, I think it won a bunch of awards on Lifetime or something, along with Meredith Baxter-Birney. Also, I think old people bone.
Suze Orman is a crazy lesbian that has "earned" millions of dollars telling people that in order to save money, they shouldn't buy alot of stupid shit. Go figure, you mean that if i'm broke I shouldn't go buy a plasma TV? But Suze, I really can beat the odds at Blackjack, I swear! Listen lady, why don't you give away a few million, start wearing Jordache instead of Calvin Klein jeans, and step foot inside a Goodwill like you are suggesting. Maybe you'll see the point of buying Papa Johns every now and then instead of putting american cheese on top of an english muffin slathered in Spaghetti-O sauce. Rich Democrats, I can't stand them.
"Transamerica" is about a transexual that is about to undergo surgery to make the full male-female transformation and has to go pick-up 'its' gay, prostitute son from juvenile detention in NY city and then drive him across America to California where he can live out his dream of becoming a gay film star. The whole plot unravels in the first 20 minutes, the rest of the movie, I have no idea, I turned it off. Never rent that movie.... ever. It will make you grind your teeth while sleeping.
After I finish this blog, I will log onto Netflix, change the password, and select about 100 movies that I have ALWAYS wanted to see. For those of you who have Netflix accounts, beware of Netflix sharing with anyone, I just used women as an example because it was my wife and sister-in-law that were committing the for-mentioned abuses of the system.
So, this weekend we are supposedly getting hit with a hurricane, so if the electricity holds up, hopefully I'll be watching "Return of the Living Dead III" and "Killer Clowns from Outer Space". Enjoy whatever might come in your mailbox on the next delivery, but if you are in my plight, don't even look, just seal it back up and send it back. You might have to watch a transexual transvestite (not from Transylvania) bond with 'its' son
Most of the movies that women rent are out of habit, i.e. dramas, tearjeckers, romantic comedies, disney movies, whatever. I'm not saying that is what they all enjoy, but when choosing, I'm sure hormones play a huge role in clicking the box marked "Send to Queue". I have seen "Terms of Endearment", some Suze Orman self help money movies, and "Transamerica" come in recently, to name a few.
"Terms of Endearment" is one of the most depressing movies ever made. Nothing is redeeming about it, it is sad, and just makes you feel bad at the end. The synopsis doesn't hide the fact either, so you know what you are getting. Good acting though, I think it won a bunch of awards on Lifetime or something, along with Meredith Baxter-Birney. Also, I think old people bone.
Suze Orman is a crazy lesbian that has "earned" millions of dollars telling people that in order to save money, they shouldn't buy alot of stupid shit. Go figure, you mean that if i'm broke I shouldn't go buy a plasma TV? But Suze, I really can beat the odds at Blackjack, I swear! Listen lady, why don't you give away a few million, start wearing Jordache instead of Calvin Klein jeans, and step foot inside a Goodwill like you are suggesting. Maybe you'll see the point of buying Papa Johns every now and then instead of putting american cheese on top of an english muffin slathered in Spaghetti-O sauce. Rich Democrats, I can't stand them.
"Transamerica" is about a transexual that is about to undergo surgery to make the full male-female transformation and has to go pick-up 'its' gay, prostitute son from juvenile detention in NY city and then drive him across America to California where he can live out his dream of becoming a gay film star. The whole plot unravels in the first 20 minutes, the rest of the movie, I have no idea, I turned it off. Never rent that movie.... ever. It will make you grind your teeth while sleeping.
After I finish this blog, I will log onto Netflix, change the password, and select about 100 movies that I have ALWAYS wanted to see. For those of you who have Netflix accounts, beware of Netflix sharing with anyone, I just used women as an example because it was my wife and sister-in-law that were committing the for-mentioned abuses of the system.
So, this weekend we are supposedly getting hit with a hurricane, so if the electricity holds up, hopefully I'll be watching "Return of the Living Dead III" and "Killer Clowns from Outer Space". Enjoy whatever might come in your mailbox on the next delivery, but if you are in my plight, don't even look, just seal it back up and send it back. You might have to watch a transexual transvestite (not from Transylvania) bond with 'its' son
Rocky Dennis strikes again
So there was a guy on the sub I used to be on.... he sucked. We had a nickname for him, which was "Mask". We were not referring to the Jim Carrey movie, it was the movie starring Cher and Sam Elliot about the boy who had elephantitis of the face. His name was Rocky... Rocky Dennis. In the movie, Rocky was a really nice person and a lot of people liked him, although most couldn't eat when they looked at his face. He fell in love with a blind chick who said he was beautiful and then he died, because I guess his face got too big or something. All in all, not a bad movie, Cher doesn't sing or wear ass-less chaps, bonus.
The Rocky Dennis that I know from my sub, was not a really nice person, but most couldn'tt eat when they looked at his face. He was not related to Cher or Sam Elliot, and he didn't die..... not a bonus. He loved ordering people around, making stupid jokes, rubbing off the CO, etc... Everyone around him hated him and just wished someone who mattered saw all the underhanded shitty things he did to get ahead of everyone. When people on a submarine are so miserable, usually they try to bring everyone down with them. We call it the "Conservation of Happiness." When the hatch shuts, there is only so much happiness on board. To get happier, you take it away from other people, vice versa. Why does that sound like a good place to be? I have no idea, ask Rocky.
This brings me around to the point off all this... if you aren't happy with a part of your life, do something about it. I have heard too many people that I work with say, "Well, this job sucks, but what else am I going to do?" Lets think about this for a second.... I'm pretty sure the other 299 million Americans are doing exactly something else right this second. Save money, go back to school, eat Ramen, start a new career, build a treehouse and live in the woods. I'm pretty sure the guy I saw who lives in his van and surfs all day pretty much loves the shit out of his life.
Anyway, I am just ranting and raving because I got an email today from an angry friend of mine who is on the submarine with Rocky Dennis, god help him. If someone pisses you off, take Dane Cook's advice figuratively or literally... shit on their coats. Rocky Dennis, someday, someone, maybe me, maybe the Dahli Lama, will shit on your coat. Better buy some Scotch Guard beeatch!
The Rocky Dennis that I know from my sub, was not a really nice person, but most couldn'tt eat when they looked at his face. He was not related to Cher or Sam Elliot, and he didn't die..... not a bonus. He loved ordering people around, making stupid jokes, rubbing off the CO, etc... Everyone around him hated him and just wished someone who mattered saw all the underhanded shitty things he did to get ahead of everyone. When people on a submarine are so miserable, usually they try to bring everyone down with them. We call it the "Conservation of Happiness." When the hatch shuts, there is only so much happiness on board. To get happier, you take it away from other people, vice versa. Why does that sound like a good place to be? I have no idea, ask Rocky.
This brings me around to the point off all this... if you aren't happy with a part of your life, do something about it. I have heard too many people that I work with say, "Well, this job sucks, but what else am I going to do?" Lets think about this for a second.... I'm pretty sure the other 299 million Americans are doing exactly something else right this second. Save money, go back to school, eat Ramen, start a new career, build a treehouse and live in the woods. I'm pretty sure the guy I saw who lives in his van and surfs all day pretty much loves the shit out of his life.
Anyway, I am just ranting and raving because I got an email today from an angry friend of mine who is on the submarine with Rocky Dennis, god help him. If someone pisses you off, take Dane Cook's advice figuratively or literally... shit on their coats. Rocky Dennis, someday, someone, maybe me, maybe the Dahli Lama, will shit on your coat. Better buy some Scotch Guard beeatch!
Chewbacca..... what a Wookie!
My dog looked liked a mini-chewbacca when he was a puppy, so we named him The Wookie. He is a little over a year old to this date, and is far beyond the redeeming skills of the Dog Whisperer or even Dog the Bounty Hunter. One of our friends refers to him as "a little turd", and that is a pretty accurate description. He is a 13 pound, miniature, red long-haired dachshund. He recently got neutered and barks at everything. I used to think he was really dumb, really really dumb, but he is just stubborn and actually very very smart and somewhat vengeful. Here is our daily routine.... Jenna wakes up, lets him outside in the morning. He goes outside, barks at everything from clouds to the dew drops, and probably pisses off our entire neighborhood. Jenna brings him inside and he goes apeshit until she throws him on the bed with me and goes to work. Wookie runs to the Ottoman and passes out for about 8 hours. He seriously doesn't move until about 2 p.m. when I get back from class. I get back from class, drag his lazy butt outside and he plops in the sun for about an hour and prances around our "yard". Whenever he starts barking a certain way, and I can tell, I let him in and he goes straight for the doggy bowl. He chows down on his food and then starts to get wound up for approximatly the next 8 hours. He might chew anything within his reach, which isn't much thank god, play in his little "cave", or bug the hell out of me. He is quite and instigator and will nudge, jump, nip, bite, maim my leg until I rough house with him for at least an hour. I gladly do so, he is fun to play with and pretty funny to watch. This goes on until we go to bed, and he settles into his nook and stays up most of the night. I know this because I can see that his eyes are open if I pop awake from a random strange dream. He's a good little watch dog, and on most days, where we follow this routine, things are good. Most of those days are a rare occasion. Weekends, we are out of the routine. Jenna and I fell asleep while watching a movie, Wookie had to go out, and because none of us would take him out due to being comatose on the couches, he went over to Jenna's couch and shit on the floor near her head. She woke up from the smell, and took him outside, and I cleaned up the mess, which I had partially stepped in also. He has done this before. We weren't feeding him the right dog food for a while, and I didn't notice that his "adjustment phase" never stopped. If I slept in too late, quite often, Wookie would crap in front of my floor fan in our bedroom and just wait. Usually when the entire room smelled like Alpo induced diaharrea, I woke up and took him outside. Now that he is longer, and a little smarter, he knows to come over and jab my face with his nose if I am asleep (my face is always very close to the edge of the mattress). There are many other intricacies that make him very eccentric. I'm pretty sure that dog is possessed, by whom, I'm guessing it is either John Belushi or the Loch Ness Monster
My perfect day
I have a dream.... it isn't much to ask for, but this is my ideal day in the sun. I will bask in the glory of all I have accumulated as a man for one day, and here is how I will spend it.....
I will wake up when I am done sleeping, and who knows when that will happen, but I imagine at some point in the mid-morning. Most likely I will be in my underwear or naked, that is how I sleep. If I am naked, I will only put on underwear, that is it. I'll walk into the kitchen and start to dethaw some hamburger meat. I'm not sure how long that will take, but then again, the perfect day can just happen without warning, so when it does, you must take appropriate action with a well thought out plan. I digress. The meat will thaw along with steak, shrimp, chicken, and bacon. My perfect day, I will only eat meat and various cheeses and various combinations of both. Most likely, that is pretty much it. I just want to be in my underwear, eat meat, drink some beer (Keystone Light), and watch movies. It would be better if it was raining outside. Am I asking too much?
I will wake up when I am done sleeping, and who knows when that will happen, but I imagine at some point in the mid-morning. Most likely I will be in my underwear or naked, that is how I sleep. If I am naked, I will only put on underwear, that is it. I'll walk into the kitchen and start to dethaw some hamburger meat. I'm not sure how long that will take, but then again, the perfect day can just happen without warning, so when it does, you must take appropriate action with a well thought out plan. I digress. The meat will thaw along with steak, shrimp, chicken, and bacon. My perfect day, I will only eat meat and various cheeses and various combinations of both. Most likely, that is pretty much it. I just want to be in my underwear, eat meat, drink some beer (Keystone Light), and watch movies. It would be better if it was raining outside. Am I asking too much?
I hate Ameretto.... a lot
Right now, at the top of my list of things I hate, is the Dissarrano commercial. This is the one where everyone at some bar is ordering some type of amerretto drink, and this bimbo walks up to the bar, orders one on the rocks, then starts fellating the ice cube while staring at the bartender. WTF! Seriously, what the hell does this commercial mean. It really doesn't make me want to drink that shit anymore than I didn't want to in the first place. Whatever happened to a couple gallons of Busch Light while owning the jukebox for an entire night and seeing how many whiskey shots the guy in the Brooks and Dunn T-shirt will casually sip. After watching that commercial, at first I can't breath, then I blackout, then my bloodpressure shoots through the roof. After another minute, I am fine. But I can't escape that commercial, even if I switch from watching TimeCop on SpikeTV to Freddy vs. Jason on Sci Fi, the commercial follows me. I'm pretty sure if I'm ever at a bar, and I see this happen, I will officially lose my shit and probably have a first-class, BNewt dressed as an english caddy, freakout and have to destroy some potted plant in my immediate vicinity. I'm so worked up right now, I think I'm going to watch Dawson's Creek reruns until my anus bleeds.
Hamburger + Taco = Jwhich
In all the years of drunken feasting, never would I have thought to stoop so low into my artery clogging, alcohol fueled gorging. I've done some amazing things in the past. I remember drinking vodka martinis all night then ordering ten dollars worth of Taco Bell bean burritos. It looked like a I was shitting out of my mouth while I was puking on the front of my apartment, not on the ground, on the front of my apartment. I might have been trying to kill a bug or something. Then there was Esperanzo's, where you could get a "dough boy" at 0400 on the way home from 1 of 18 bars. A dough boy was a chimchanga filled with cream cheese and chicken, and it was shit-tastic. Hot dogs wrapped in bacon, philly cheese steaks, buffalo wings with the meat pulled off into a bowl and covered with bleu cheese, wow, the list goes on and on. My cholesterol infused journeys should have driven me down the path of veganism by now, surprisingly my blood tests have come back good and viscous, not congealed. Never in my life, would anything have prepared me for Jack in the Box, or JITB for all intents and purposes. The dollar menu is larger than the regular menu, and most of the patrons could have it as an alternate mailing address (read homeless). I've stood in line with old men, young women, old men that looked like women, and young women who were really men. I've walked through the drive-thru, eaten in stomach rupturing proportions, and one time, I just ordered a water..... it was crazy. I'm not really sure how the next evolution in JITB experience happened, but it did and god help us all. Myself and Ree (the other Jeff) were sitting on the newspaper dispensers, dividing up our fat saturated treasure that we purchased..... 4 tacos and 4 hamburgers. Everything happened so quickly, and then we were eating a hamburger with the taco inside of it. We called it the Jwhich.... booyah. Fucking Jwhich. I'm pretty sure a Jwhich with some Gothsblood (boxed wine and vodka) might create a hole in the universe, or in my duodenum.
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