Thursday, June 29, 2006
So my sister is in town from Californ-I-A, and I've been out to the parents' house to eat of barbecued beef and pork, and partaketh of family oriented chitchat. All went well, and fun times were had by all. I took off work Wednesday to spend the day with them in Eureka Springs. Nothing like paying through the nose to "experience" the rustic feel of the place, I felt the constant barrage of corny T shirt shops really add to the scenery. But it is meant for the elderly crowd, although it is not without hazard. Take my NEXT little story, for instance...
We are walking this treacherous terrain of busted up sidewalks abundantly slathered with some kind of slick red paint, presumably to distinguish the fact that it is a no parking area. As we round a corner, a Mexican coming towards us slips and nearly falls. I'm walking behind MOM, when SHE slips off the curb and does some macabre test of balancial wills that she is destined to lose, which she does. It went in slow motion for me, but when I snapped to, my sweat soaked shoes slid around on me, causing me to get there AFTER the tumble. She didn't make a sound, not a peep! I thought for sure there'd be a "Fuck!" or a "Jesus Tapdancing Christ!", which is what would have come out of ME, if not a steady stream of expletives to make ANY sailor's mother proud. Bless her heart, I'd rather it'd been me instead.
She sat there for a few seconds, I was right on top of her, trying to help her up and asking if she was OK. She skinned up one leg pretty good but the other knee looked horrible. I felt bad the rest of the day, and she got more hobbly as we went around. We basically spent the last part of our time there kicking back in some kind of porch thing, which was fine by me, my dogs were tired too. I also climbed some huge tower that swayed vicariously in the wind, not unlike the way my lunch swayed in my gullet the further up I got. On the 6th floor of this wire framed behemoth, I started to get cold feet.
"Uncle Ronnie, aren't you coming?" the niece and nephew asked, since THEY had already made a mad dash for the top.
"What's wrong? Are you chicken?"
Hearing that, I steeled my resolve, which consisted of cod fillet and greasy fries at the time, and hurried to the top. I didn't stay very long though. It was pretty darn hot, so being that much closer to, and unsheltered from, the sun is not a smart thing to do for long periods of time. I enjoyed the day, with the exception of MOM's downward spiral, and didn't even get pissed over the fact that I kept getting lost. The roads rearranged themselves somehow on the return trip home, and I kept seeing the same damn road signs to turn for 303, which was very strange, considering I was ON 303, I started to think I was on some kind of hillbilly loop to tire me out before the "luvin'" starts. I made it home though, safe and sound, maybe a little worse for wear.
My legs are STILL killing me from that tower. Luckily they had so many problems at work that I just goofed all day, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a repeat performance tomorrow. I'm just mentally AND physically exhausted. I don't wanna hear music, I didn't feel like playing any video games, I have a headache that is keeping me from enjoying a sweet toke off the "kind".
I guess I better call and say my final goodbyes to my sister and her kids, but I'd like to visit her sometime, maybe next year. My wife has relatives in LA too, so if she got bored with mine, then I may get some free time to cut butt wild without any espousal supervision...
Kidding, but they DO have nice titty bars out that way. A quick look see never hurt nobody. The way I see it, it don't matter where you build up an appetite as long as you eat at home. There just better be something simmering when I get back...
"Roll on highway, Roll on through..."
"Roll on, Mama, like I asked you to do..."
Just try not to take it so literally next time, sheesh!
Saturday, June 24, 2006
"Nothin' but Corn Flakes."
Words of wisdom from the man hisself. Finally saw Click at, get this, 4:20 pm. Very foretelling of things to come. The movie was great. Cameos by Swardson as Bed and Bath Creepazoid and Schneider as King Habib-Bu were hilarious. But this movie had great heart. "Yeah, yeah," you say, "Probably Sandler getting mad and yelling at everybody then talking in that voice he does to some inanimate object whilst doing some sort of jig."
If this was you, then I suggest you eat the nice peanut butter and broken glass sandwich I made for you. I like the Sandman however he shows up. He's proving now that he can truly step up and "put the big pants on" characterwise. Watching this was more than just dick and fart jokes. Oh, so much more than that. I saw people hug their loved ones a little closer walking out of that theater, and that can't be a bad thing, can it? It's just another one of those signs, like the Jerry Reed song I'm hearing now (Smell the Flowers), telling me to get in there and duke it out, never give up hope, blah blah blah. But it was nice, quite a bit of it was serious fare too. Felt like it succeeded where Spanglish failed. I give this movie a solid A.
Walken was the bomb, as always. He never fails to entertain and spout out blurbs of wisdom in his trademark voice. I learn so much from him, whether about the Moors and Sicilians, or even the Lucky Charms guy. I really wish he WAS running for president. He'd have them shaking in their boots and you just know the speeches would knock 'em dead. He is simply Walken. Also, in preparation for the movie, I perused the Sandler site and, among other videos, came across one where he was showing his skills on the "skins" and looking sharp. Something clicked and I went to my kids drum set. I tried out some ideas and ended up learning a few new things, which is awesome. I can keep a beat, that's good enough for me for now. Thanks for that, Sandooski!
Here's to number one movie of the week...
Mexico plays Argentine in the World Cup in moments. Who to root for?
Neither. May they both draw red cards and lose miserably the next game immediately after.
I just had some Long John Silver, too. I swear those chicken planks get even smaller every single time I go there. In the early 80's, they were huge, like REAL planks!!! They also gave you a healthy scoop of those "lil nuggetlike batter crunchies" which are relatively nonexistent today. I'm also beginning to wonder if they aren't cooking meth in there too. All the workers are tattoo covered, "toof"less, and ALWAYS forget something I ordered.
I keep coming back though. Maybe it's the hushpuppies...
Click has been postponed until AFTER the soccer game.
4:20 pm to be exact.
Is THIS an omen, fortelling of the futurous good times to cometh?
Move over, Nostradamus!!!
Catchy title, I know, but I always seem to get into situations that never cease to baffle me.
Like last night, for instance...
We were meant to go to see the new Sandler flick, Click, but then I got the phone call around four in the afternoon.
"Honey?" she said inquisitively. "Can I go to my friend's retirement thing at Jose's, I will only have one or two margaritas, can I, huh, please?"
Figuring I would miss the 7:00 showing, I agreed, knowing that only one theater was showing this soon to be extremely popular film, and it would be much more prudent to hit the later showing, I said, "Sure, why the heck not?!?"
When she gets home, she asks me if we can hit some pool party later that night. When she mentions the names of the hosts, I cringe. I can already feel the creepy vibes wafting off this turd of an idea. I tell her it is a DEFINITE NO GO...
So, I'm getting out of the shower and getting ready for this "extravaganza", due to being weak when it comes to the poonanner, and we head out there. I'm already imagining the drunken buffoons I will have to put up with, everybody likes to hassle the SOBER guy or ask him to ferry more liquor later when they run out. Or berate him for NOT joining in on all that FUN!
Fun is my Chinese neighbor's middle name!!!
So we get there, its already 10-ish, and NO ONE IS EVEN THERE, except the hostess and her husband. But she is well on her way, and takes us on a tour of her house, stopping at the pool area thing to plop down and chitchat. She and my wife yak it up while hubby slowly slinks over to my side. He looks down at his ol' lady's form in the bathing suit, back up at me, once more back to her as if I should follow this optical trajectory, then creepily gazes intently at me, asking...
"Wanna do some COKE?"
I had heard from another of wifey's coworkers that they were into "sharing" and EVERYTHING in his tone and demeanor were telling me that he wanted to do this very thing. I felt like being elsewhere, muy pronto, so I just told him that due to a sister coming into town that I hadn't seen in years, it just wouldn't do to look all wild eyed and bushy tailed, not a good idea AT ALL. He looked kind of dejected.
The wierd thing was that his Momma was upstairs in their house! Was SHE gonna join in too? THIS is why I avoid parties like the plague now. When you get older, it ain't speed quarter games and AC-DC anymore, the people get more freakish and perverted in their old age. They've already had much time to become warped and twisted, and I'm just not interested in OTHER people's sick fantasies waiting to be revealed. I also DO NOT want to share what's MINES (unless the swappee is one Katie Couric)!!!!! Yours will do just nicely...
Kidding, but thanks to this load of gobbledy gook I got to miss Click YET AGAIN.
It starts at 1pm today, I'm sure it will be less busy than it was last night, so we will catch it in about two hours. I've already got my fattie drying out. I know it will be hilarious, Walken is in it! Full review later!!!
"Yeah, yeah," you say, "Didn't you say the same about Nacho Libre?"
Yes, but, alas, due to memory overload AND time constraints, the witty and praise filled critique was shelved. You should have SEEN it by now anyway. I DID say it was good already. What do you need?
Thursday, June 22, 2006
OK, no relation to Possumhaid. But THEY are, however, what I like to call... well...
THEY are: Trey Anastacio (from Phish fame), Les Claypool (Primus god), and last but not least...
Stewart Copeland! BWEEOOP! The Police drummer has a highly distinct sound, as do the other two super fantastico members. I was going to see them last weekend at that Bonneroo festival thing but the tickets were $200 just to get into this hell of a hippie/meth freak toilet clog. I ALSO would have been stranded there for FOUR DAYS.
Just wasn't able to pull it off. Not enough Geetis, Dinero, Moola...
But I can STILL enjoy their wonderful music til next chance to see them live.
I have also been jamming on a daily basis to the Jerry Reed Greatest Hits. That man could pick, and alot of those old songs are rocky as all get out! Add another outlaw to the list. I think I may of been made for the truck drivin' life.
"String beans to Utah-h-h-h-h-h..."
Next up: USA and the World Cup...
Now if you've read past entries, you'll know that I am all about Germany winning the Cup BUT...
(This is for the REST of the world, non USers)
What is up with all this hate for the USA? What the hell is WRONG with you people?
"Ze Americans vill go home vith zere heads tucked btveen zere tails, no?"
So now we are the EVIL SUPERPOWER that preens itself in the reflection from the blood of the "innocents" that we mow through in our quest for THE CRUDE. What a load of hogwash. This whole world makes me ill.
(The USers can come back in now)
As I was saying, this whole world makes me ill. Was it ALWAYS this loathsome and conniving? Were my young eyes bedazzled by a Reagan-led "Party til it's 1999" facade? Is this what the new millenium holds for the peoples of this great land? We are unloved by people who are just as dirty and guilty as ANYONE ELSE on this godforsaken planet. It's almost as if we are asking for a catastrophe big enough to turn our thoughts AWAY from each other. I used to want more children, now I'm not so sure. I'm just hoping this is a pattern in the world that, too, will eventually pass and we will all be friends again. Not cutting each other's heads off. Oh yeah, I forgot. No Americans did THAT. And what the fuck? Do you ALL really think that your good ol' buddeh, Uncle Sam from the U.S. of A., wants to take control of the world in it's merciless iron grip?
LOOK DEEPLY INTO MY EYES...
(BWEEOO BWEEOO BWEEOO)
We are your friends. Did you all forget about those two little world wars we pulled the rest of you from the brink of? What is Dubya going to have to do with ANYTHING about Iraq after his term is up? Absolutely nothing. I think we've done the right thing so far, with the exception of staying at a safe distance to just pummel the land with rockets and bombs until its nothing but a smoking crater. There are things that are beyond our scope of knowledge, we are better and safer for this. Someday, farther down the road we will get to see WHY we went over THERE. Alot of bizarre things have turned up since it all started. Sanctions? They were worthless with all those backdoor deals Kofi and gang were having with Saddam. Weapons? Now we know why Germany, France, and Russia were so reluctant to join us in call for an end to an inhumane ruler. Oh yeah, they were ARMING them. Woops! How long do you think it would have been until they had THE BIG ONE?
Which leads me to last. Nukes. Amazing that their neighbor was secretly working on some nukies. Iranians. People who would probably LOVE to enjoy a life of freedom if the few that controlled the country didn't shield harmlessly curious peepers from "the Western Menace". I've seen pictures of people hanged for simply being gay. And they were around fifteen. Pretty harsh if you ask me. But then, I'm just a [FILL IN YOUR RADICAL MUSLIM, AMERICAN HATING PHRASE HERE]. I would just love to hear one of you non-USers admit what I'm saying, just once. You know WHY you all hate us. Not a GOOD reason, but a reason. Can you turn that scrutinous gaze back at your own selves? I doubt it. But then again, neither could I. But I know American soldiers aren't babykillers. Although there have a been a few wayward incidents in this ball of hellish confusion, I think if everybody wasn't so morbidly drawn to the negative aspects of it all, this would already have been over. Wow, our first war that was waged on the internet battlefield as well as in the real world. Murder on video becomes the norm on the World Wide. There is something wrong with us. Not postmortem pics of unfortunates, the actual butcherings done right there while some moron praises a NONEXISTENT GOD. If I EVER saw someone do that in the name of Jesus, I'd freak out. If your god thinks beheadings, or ANY of that holy blubber is A-OK, then chances are, he's as fake as any of the peaceful ones. THEY just don't intrude on other people's privacy and/or vital bodily functions. Besides...
You are ALL wrong!
I know what happens to us ALL when we die. You will see...
Spanish music over the loudspeakers while working an endless Saturday in Hell's Chicken Plant, and you just KNOW the A/C is gonna be busted up in that sumbitch!
Now go check out that Oysterhead cd, The Grand Pecking Order...
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I came back to say that I will also be working on MY daddyness. Spending more time listening, and trying to be more patient. I really am a good dad, they know if they were trapped, or DOOMED, I could pull them out of a jam. I love 'em, and I need to be there, plain and simple. So enough of this paternal foolishness, naw!!!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/eo/20060616/en_celeb_eo/19287 paste THIS for the story. Someone please show me how to make linkies here in comment?
Beyonce VS the dirty hippie douchebags from PETA. To make a long story short, they covertly won an Ebay auctioned with the "talented" songstress. I had hoped they would cancel out. As I don't like either, to me it's like a boxing match where it's two mexicans fighting, I really ain't rooting for neither, ya dig? Yes, they really did get the best of an idiotic hairdoll with tits. But they also made me realize how fucking creepy they are. But then again, they avidly hold animal life above the life of one of their own, in many ways. So I don't wanna be in the car with one of them when a furry little bunny runs out in our path. ANOTHER group of people trying to enforce their crap on the rest of us, just like those hybrid car people. So add hippies to the list of things I occasionally despise, like radical anti-American muslims, carnival people, Chinese buffet owners, and used car salesman, to name a few.
I like bacon too much, I could NEVER give that up.
And veal is the BOMB, yo!
And WHO don't like The Colonel?!?!?!?!?!?!
Thus ends a wierd and bizarre blendage of things to appendage in a cheap and feeble attempt in a sort of mendage, for lack of a better word and still rhyme in the general scheme of things. Thank you for your patronage.
Yes, it's the one and only. MY DAD. He is chiseled from such that isn't around THESE days 'nary I've seen, round these parts. The title above is something I heard him say to my mom while he was chatting with me. He was referring to some kind of berries my neice picked up off a bush outside, probably inedible. Most people would pretend to take them, then ditch the berries at first chance. Not him. My Dad is hard to describe, but here goes anyway...
My pappy sounds just like Rosco P. Coltrane, always has. I love his voice, on answering machines, he is endless inspiration for comedy albums, and he's a pretty funny guy too, and VERY likable. So put this together with the fortitude of the Hulk, mix in some old tough cowboy loner, and you got that man semi pinned down.
From an outsider's perspective, he might seem a hard, callous man. I, at times, thought so too growing up. Oh, how wrong I was. When you are a wretched little bastard like I was, you don't realize all the sacrifices he made for the sake of his kids. I'm not saying he never did a few things wrong in our life, but that I think he's earned any kind of pardon at least we, the kids could give.
The gruffness and making me buy my own necessities (like car and toys) were to teach me to be responsible, more self reliant and learn that the hard earned work behind that BLING BLING makes those things a hell of alot more appreciated and treasured in the long run. You gotta take care of your shit. My Dad has shit older than me that's in better condition!
He's also mellowed out since MY more reckless days, probably due to ME stopping said reckless days. I apologize wholeheartedly to him, AND my MOM, for all the sleepless nights I've caused. You really don't truly understand how much of a lecherous, soul draining, worry machine you've been until you reach the age I'm getting to just now.
I have kids, and I have to do without many desired things, including precious solitude, to appease them. I realize things NOW from way back, the behind the scenes inner workings of HOW IT REALLY WAS.
He will always be in my top spot of people I aspire to be like, a spot shared with my MOM. In a world where sometimes I feel unsure of WHO exactly is trying to get at my WHATEVER, they are a calm oasis in the storm. He is so many things I am not, but would like to be. He and MOM have my back like no others. They, and a few others are the only people I would trust with my kids. Someday, I will be more like them. I will get up at the crack of dawn, put up a fence around the "property", and patrol the perimeter for suspicious characters rummaging around, and keep meth labs out of the neighborhood. The world will be less of a place when that man's heart stops beating. I only hope that he, and my MOM, outlive me by decades at least!
They are both healthier and more spry than I am, so that's a distinct possibility. I just couldn't bear to be here without them. I want nothing they have, only their company. I would like to spend more time with them. I make a pledge NOW to either SEE them more, or at least call them on a weekly basis. Unlike my father, I am a shy person, and my emotions are not often so easily displayed. But they have to know I love them, although we say it sometimes, I always felt it was generally understood in more of the way we were around each other. In deed, not in word. I'd give any body part, and I know they'd do the same for me. Hopefully, nothing like THAT will ever happen.
Here's to many more years of even better family "snugness" than ever before. The Nacho Libre review will have to wait, I still have to shower, but know this. It was good. Go see it. You will laugh, unless you have no soul, or you just plain suck...
Friday, June 16, 2006
I love em, I love em, I love em! You can say whatever you want, I know what's up. Most people can't get past the looks.
"They're fags!" they say. Yet all their videos have hotties in them, most of the songs are about chicks or working on how to get down their pants. OK, I'm lying. Most of their songs are actually pretty deep and wierd. Simon LeBon is a fantastic writer of lyrics, unfortunately most don't ever give it a chance.
Also, the two concerts I went to last year were wall to wall tits. Who's the fool NOW? I've also found their music highly successful in peeling a few panties off. Live, those guys are on par some of the best musicians in and out. Not only are they highly journeyed in their craft, they are wondrous showmen. It's not stuff to divert attention AWAY from them, they ARE the show. I'm just glad they decided to get back together as the original FAB FIVE once again. I never saw them with Warren, but it might be akin to when I saw Billy Idol back in 1990 WITHOUT Steve Stevens as opposed to last year WITH. No comparison, those songs sound so much better with the right man, or men, grinding out the tunes with you.
Yay for Duran, I await their next release and impending tour with outstretched arms...
Later, review for Nacho Libre seen earlier tonight...
Tune in, wont'cha...?
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Beautiful picture pilfered elsewhere on the world wide... you know.
What can I say? Captures the way I feel to a T. I'm screaming at you all NOW.
Can't you HEAR me?
Sounds just like Farmer Fran times a gazillion...
You must OBEY...
Sunday, June 11, 2006
So here's the background to the story. I picked up a rental minivan early yesterday morning to take nine people, including myself of course, to Silver Dollar HELL. Amazingly hassle-free, the day was spent doing loopty-loops and eating overpriced country themed slop, and good times were had by all. I also found out how many times you can ride a multi loop roller coaster in a row until you barf all over the place.
Luckily, I stopped at SEVEN, it was the last ride of the day. I could taste BBQ afterwards, and I hadn't even HAD any.
So I decide to burn a fattie before I drop off the van late last night, then head on my merry way, oblivious to the dilemmas that lay dubiously in my path. After topping off the tank so's I don't get charged extra, I take the long, dark, winding path to the local airport and rental place. As I get there I realize that, as I am all alone, I will now have to walk all the way back to the car after I drop the minivan off. For some odd reason, the rental guy didn't want me to park in the same space as the van I rented, which makes no sense. I had to park in this lot way the heck in the back, meaning my walk might be about half a mile maybe. OK, maybe not THAT long, but I had been walking ALL day and my stumps were killing me. So, to avoid carrying a huge stack of cds all that way, I stopped there first. As I come up from leaning down in the seat, I see blue lights in the rearview mirror.
Although nervous, and making a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening at the time, I explained my situation. He tried to slip me up a few times but I have had, unfortunately, too many dealings with the PO-PO. No matter how baked, I don't crack under pressure. I just don't. So he drives off, to covertly ogle me from a distance. Which is fine and dandy with me, except for one thing. I'm STILL going to have to hoof it in the middle of the night! SPOOKEH...
Now, I truly appreciate the fact that Barney was "guarding" all those cars. I also am stoked that MY car really was in safe hands. However...
Once my tale was told, he didn't even offer to give me a quick, two minute ferry back to my ride. I know I shouldn't complain BUT that sadistic bastard watched me the whole way! Instead of seeing if I was gonna make penis angels on driver's side windows of expensive cars, he could have sped my journey along, saving him all that precious time as well. Makes sense to ME! Am I wrong here...?
I'm driving back down this road, hoping to end this torment by finishing strong, when I see this possum in the middle of the road. Unconciously, my hands move the wheel towards a collision course with this foul beast.
Now, let me start off by saying that possums ARE horrible, diseased, rodent looking little monsters that can stand on their hind legs and HISSS at you. This is extremely pants pissingly if you happen upon one when not expecting it. I always pictured the Morlocks from The Time Machine (the book, NOT the 2001 movie!)as having possum-like qualities. Carrion loving flesh eaters, and I've put MANY A NOTCH on my wheels from squishing the life, and guts, out of them. I really do abhor them.
EAT IT, PETA!!!
Yet something stayed my hand. I swerved back over. I felt the kharma of it all overwhelm me. He just wanted to get home and possibly get some stanky on his hangdown, JUST LIKE ME! So I didn't end his life, but rode by close enough so he could feel the hot breath of my (normally) indiscriminate "Death Machine."
No-o-o-o. this doesn't mean I've gone soft, I just chose to spare a life in thanks for my OWN near miss. He will NOT be so lucky NEXT time.
I still hate possums, and always will. It's just a fact of life. They make my blood boil...
I fell into deep slumber somewhere around 3 or 4 am. Now, am kinda watching Iran and Mexico play in World Cup. Who to root for?
There can be only ONE. And it ain't Mexico either, they act like THEY invented soccer, same as they do boxing. And it sure as hell isn't Iran.
I'd actually like to see them "wiped off the face" of the field.
Worse than possums, they are...
YOU be the judge!
Possums and/or Morlocks, you say?
What relevance do they have to my story?
All this and my crazy, mixed up adventures with "The MAN" tomorrow after I've slept. I've spent my whole day either driving TO, or driving FROM, or walking around IN, or having to do extra work BECAUSE OF Silver Dollar City.
And I'm spent...
Friday, June 09, 2006
I don't really care about soccer. But when the NFL season has yet to kick in, and World Cup action rolls around, I always root for mah peoples! I just finished watching them manhandle the Costa Ricans, sating my savage bloodlust for a short while. Got a team you are rooting for(?), let me know, or show me some love for the Motherland by commenting.
Deutschland will prevail once again...
(Unless they get cheated!)
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Hope it hurt like a bitch! You are NOT going to Paradise either. Sorry. It IS good, however, to see many Muslims speaking out AGANST his wayward bullshit. Gives me hope, where I originally had none. He was a criminal. Nothing more.
Killing a harmless old man, Armstrong, in his name, or whatever, is NEVER right.
You got what you deserved in the end...
Sleepy time, she comes...
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
This would make a kickass album remixed and reinterpreted by yours truly. I know, I know, the "Shat", as I like to call him, is man enough for the job. But imagine taking that raw man-beef exuding voice of poise and "its-gonna-be-all-right-ness" and smothering it in the creamy goodness that is the GRAVEH.
What a duo we would make, rivalled only by the great Hall & Oates, nay possibly even surpassing and usurping the title of "Best Pop Duo of ALL TIME"
I had a really witty and engaging review of the recently released dvd, Running Scared, starring that "fresh faced" Fast & Furious douchemonger, Paul something. Due to Blogger problems, this entire post was erased.
So, in summation...
It sucked. He turns out to be a cop in the end, fakes his death, and stands laughing last in the doorway at the end. The end. Extremely bloody, and Pulp Fictionlike in its delivery. F.
Also, dont see The New World with Colin Farrell. He DOESN'T get the big lipped Indian girl in the end, Batman does. It was as gay as the cover on the box, I should have listened to intuition. Also an F. Blockbuster STILL has no copies of the new Underworld in yet. I've never been able to stay awake through the original though. Will the sequel be any better? Will I record the Shatner album and be lauded with panache and baubles?
Tune in tomorrow...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
I knew they would do "IT" again. Just like with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, they take a mediocre movie at best, put some of "Today's Freshest Faces" in there, and try to make you fall in love with something you weren't in love with in the first damn place. Other than a really nice beheading scene, this was VERY disappointing film. I kept falling asleep through it, or was mesmerized by the idiot kid's cell phone light that never seemed to go off next to me. And what is up with people having to sit RIGHT THE FUCK ON TOP OF ME?!?!? There's a million seats, must we have an armrest wrestling match? And the tallest asshole in the bunch has to sit directly in front of MY kid. The dickhead behind me has to cough into the back of my head and fidget around with his candy wrapper constantly. I even tried to make sure I was at an earlier showing, hoping to avoid such thoughtless buffoons, but to no avail.
This had absolutely NADA to do with the suckiness of The Omen 6-6-06. It just blew. Maybe if you are a today's hip and happenin' teenager, THEN you might think this movie is the bomb diggity. The rest of us will continue to snort and rankle our proverbial feathers everytime they dig up another Hills Have Eyes, spit up our ass and tell us it's the SUPERDUPERSIZE Cherry Limeade we asked for. I just ain't falling for it anymore, or letting others who have fallen for it drag ME to go see it with them. I banish this movie to GRAVEH HELL, forever blotting it's memory from my already taxed mind. If you like this movie, you should stop reading NOW. You are too easily entertained. Go look at something shiny instead...
In the words of the immortal Johnny Rotten:
Get up, Get up!
Get out, Get out!
Get outta my world!
Get out, NOW!
(The rest of you can stay...)
Monday, June 05, 2006
All inside ONE head! Harmlessly hapless cartoon clown VERSUS evil Stephen King space alien dream spiderclown thingy that defies all classification. Ther are quite a few more in there. Feel much better, by the way, now that I've vented. I got up at 11:30 am today, and goofed around back here most the day so far. My doctor gave me some kind of Alleve so that may be why I feel so caged in. I will let it get out of my system so I can see if I'm better. Too bad, my sinuses felt great. I seem to always trade one punishment for another. But I just had some of the best ribs on the entire planet, made by ME, so nothing is going to knock me off my perch for at least another hour or three. Soaked in beer for a full day, I tell you. Then lovingly slow roasted in the oven, smothered in K.C. style BBQ sauce. Every sweet/spicy bite causing shivers of ecstacy to run down my spine...
The world and all who dwell in it can fucking blow me! You can all continue to conspire, it will do you no good. When my time comes, it will come, brought on no sooner by the likes of any of you. And you know what? I don't WANT to go back to the days when I didn't know any better either. How do you like THAT?
Yet I'm the fuck up, the cause, the root of all the problems. In A.A. meetings they try to show you the common thread in all your problems, which is YOU. But you know what? Sometimes that's a load of horseshit. Or is it? Therein lies my problem.
AM I messed up in the head?
I refuse to believe it. But the world is bleak. Are we headlong towards utter doom? I wouldn't care and would be without a worry if it weren't for my daughter. SHE loves me, the rest of you do not. Why?
I used to want more children but am slowly coming to the realization that I can't, and shouldn't, so most likely I won't. I don't even think I will be alive all that much longer. Not by any self inflicted wound, but I know there is something wrong inside of me. Cancer?
At least something would be final in my life and I would have to figure out the meaning of "IT ALL." I just feel like I can't take it. I don't mean take it out on others or do bad things. I just mean, I don't know, like I'm just going to SNAP.
Life is a big lie sometimes. The first twenty or so years of your life are a sham. Friends and lovers are NEVER who they seem and if you still have family that hasn't been tainted, then it's a miracle. For most, the whole promise of happiness is a pipe dream. I'm beginning to think that those who die at an early age might just be the lucky ones. Right now I can definitely say I'm not a strong advocate for reincarnation. I don't want to come back. Feelings HURT, and then eventually, you feel nothing. I know it's not all that bad. But I used to remember this pounding. It came with a burning sensation. I used to feel it. It was in my chest and sometimes it would push its way up into my throat. And sometimes I would soar.
Mostly, I would fall to my impending doom. But at least I felt then.
I hate the world right now. And I wish it would just stop. Maybe just let me off for a little while. I might come back...
Sunday, June 04, 2006
...To their patronage lend
But it's the ones we don't see
That always fascinate me (yeah)
And as the real heroes died
And their ideas supplied
To a fat little magpie
With money in his eyes
They bowed and they scraped
As opinions he shaped
How every little sketch
A fortune will fetch
And the bleach killer kills
And the bleach killer kills yeah
As the masters rot on walls
And the angels eat their grapes
I watched Picasso (aha)
Visit The Planet Of The Apes
As the masters rot on walls
And the angels eat their grapes
I watched Picasso (aha)
Pablo Picasso (aha)
Visit The Planet Of The Apes (yeah)
Adam is the bomb. Sexmusic for Antpeople!
Talking Terry Jones. A picture posed for, which was taken... by ME. I was really sick and wet from it raining on me on the way WALKING to get there. My lips were covered with fever blisters and I looked all gaunt from continuous illness and meds taken to alleve the symptoms of this problem. So he walked up right next to me and I didn't say anything. He sat down at the front, off to the side. So I walked down the aisle, letting my disposable camera's flash warm up along the way. As my looks are often considered to be dubious from my look and possibly vibe, I was eyed briefly by his amigo. This was averted by shake and baking like I was going to go for a doorway off to the side. But, no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o. Since I was parked on university parking without a sticker and having no insurance and possibly expired tags (I thought at the time, however not true) I knew I was going to have to cut out early and not be able to wait for photo ops afterwards. So when the guy turned away, I sped up to Terry Jones. I said "Excuse me, may I take your picture?"
He said to wait for him to remove his glasses, so he could pose properly. Which was very cool of him. I wanted an autograph but I didn't want to push it. And like I said, I was sick lookin and scab covered, so I didn't want to be in any pictures. I was there, I shook his hand, the experience was for no one but ME. I loved it. I will try to make it a habit, get all the Pythons on disposable camera. And Graham's urn I guess...
Jeez, it's almost 5 in the a.m. Nighty night, y'alls. I'e been playing this awesome game...