FOOK off, says FRANKIE!

I just finished my daughter's tenth birthday party and am out the door to somebody else's. They really know how to lay out a fine spread so...
Time to put some Graveh all over that place!!!

X-Men 3: Who lives, who dies...

Like I'm going to tell you THAT! But some big names in the mutant game take a permanent powder, so to speak. Sleeping with the fishes, see? This was great, wish THIS director would have done the first two in the series. The first WAS good, it's mainly the second that perturbed me. The third was darker, bloodier, and the body count, man and mutant alike, was akin to watching Hamburger Hill at times. I was extremely impressed with this one. Major changes occurred, yet the door was left open for returns from the grave and numerous other possibilities. The cure also doesn't seem to be a permanent thing. I'm not worrying much about spoilers, by the way, if you haven't seen it by the time you read this aged post, then you deserve to have your bubble burst. If you even cared. The new Batman and revamped X-men makes me upbeat about the future of superheroes. Will the new Superman and next year's Spiderman trilogy finale be what I've always hoped and dreamed they might be? For ADULTS...
Now I don't mean I wanna see Iceman giving Rogue a frosty teabaggin' or Wolvie "slicin up" ol' Storm's sweet ebony ass with his hidden adamantium rod. I just dont wanna see clowny shit like in the 80's and 90's Batman films. I want to see action, no holds barred. I also want pain, and true criminal portrayel. Madmen don't care for the lives of the innocent, I want to see the hero make tough choices, not just always completely save the day. I want to see the dark side of it all, the downside as well as the good. This movie got a C+ in the Little Rock paper by the self proclaiming film critic extraordinaire. YEt Philip Martin is NEVER right. I usually gauge my plans on what he DOESN'T recommend. What do you expect from a jazz loving, wonder bra wearing, naughty lil corn boy?!?!?!?!
Did I say jazz? Ooops, I meant jIzz...
I gave it an A-. Blew my mind but not my wad. Close though...

ROD says,"Even the President...

Needs PASSION! Today's episode WILL NOT be about El Presidente OR that flaming, talentless douche bag that prances around in pink asking," Do ya? Huh? Do ya think I'm, ya know, SEXY?!?!?!" Rod Stewart blows, he is forevermore banished to anywhere but HERE.
I'm talking about PASSION. I just don't feel like I have any at all. In fact, I'm not sure if I even have enough to finish this postie. So little, that I got up and had a bowl of Corn Chex. How's that? I feel like there's something missing in everything. What is it? WHERE is it? When the fudge is it gonna swing around MY way?
Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine? I bet I know what Jim Morrison would do in this dilemma. Some SMACK!
At work today, it was more of the same WITH a few extra breaks thrown in there due to timing problems on the line. That and the fact that the maintenance guys are a bunch of twits. Can you say CRANK ADDICTION, kids? They keep getting fired stealing ammonia from the tanks to make it. Not sure how it all works but I can make "ghetto" crank out of Vicks Inhalers. Not that I'd want to. So, anyway...
I spend the whole day listening to some chick talk about her drunken husband, who bears a striking resemblance to Dwight Yoakam's DOYLE HARGROVE character from SLING BLADE. She kind of reminds me of the chick too, now that I ponder it thus...
This PRIMUS is so perfect now with the babbliness of my thoughts. Wish this blog had a soundtrack. So if you want to pretend play along WITH me then lets set sail on the SEAS OF CHEESE together.
'Ere. Suck on THIS!

Here We Go Again

Or DO we? I dont really have much much going on other than the daily torment that is my job. It is boring and tiresome. And it's only Tuesday and I'm already having trouble coping. IF I got to bed early tonight, IF I didn't watch TV in bed, IF I could just sleep...
I have insomnia or something. I also very rarely dream anymore. I used to have really vivid ones with zombies and horrible things going on around me, but usually knew it was a dream so I wasn't afraid. Now I lay my head on the pillow and go right out when, almost instantly (it seems), my alarm clock goes off at 4:30 am. This gives me another hour to sleepwith thirty minutes to be at work and ready to go. There is usually alot of whimpering and mewing, with an occasional fist thrust up at the sky, in cruel defiance of the wicked and unjust ruler of the heavens.
Mostly I say FUCK alot. And WHY. And it's ALL heartfelt. I ain't a morning person and it hasn't seemed to work out over the years like it should. I yearn for the days of sleeping 'til eleven, but laying around in bed 'til noon.
My brother in law was over here, the one of Mother's Day thread infamy, and my wife was talking to him about his "problemos." She worked it out to where he ended up admitting it to keep ME from getting in trouble and thus making him a snitch. Nice how she worked it out, and he's quite simple to work a maneuver like that on. Wicked she be, matey, yet I'm wise to all her tricks. They have absolutely NO effect on me whatsoever. Why so confident? I don't do DRAMA in my life. I tell people what I think, if pressed, about whatever they want to be sorry they heard about. Not really that bad but at times it can be. I will also confront the person who defies the Graveh at the most immediate opportune moment. And pounce. I like to get that shit out in the open. Why beat around the bush?
Whew, he's gone now! I didn't want to have to face him, but he needs help and my wife loves her brother. I would be a dick to not help. Also, it's better to get him fixed now instead of AFTER he's pawned all my shit for crystal. He didn't look like he was serious but he did the whole looking down thing with the talking in a low voice to show that "yeah, he screwed the pooch and needed to kick it west siyeed!" with his G's and get over it. But he'll be back out there. I just won't ever leave him alone with my kids or my house again. Tough break champ..

Pain and Suffering...

I went to Silver Dollar City yesterday. I was still fuming when I got back, so there was nothing to be had by way of blog. First off, I had went to bed around 3 am and the Chinese from the day before was wreaking havoc on my intestinal tract, meaning I wasn't going to be touring the caves THIS time. We leave earlier this time, and make great time there, avoiding all the traffic. THEN it goes to shit from there. The group of us couldn't seem to stay together. We all spent most of our time looking for each other. Mt Dad was pissed, hell, everyone was pissed! It was hot, I felt cruddy, and people kept body checking me constantly, even an old lady got me. I don't like to have to change my direction of traverse, especially in flip flops. THAT was ANOTHER big mistake. But your feet get soaked there, what else IS there?!?!?
Aqua socks? I'm sure I dropped a few pounds from the blistering heat and the extensive walking/searching I put these dogs through. I must be in pretty good shape though, because I still had enough left in me to pound some ass last night. So anyway, we leave out of there and I swear the traffic ALL THE WAY HOME was fucking horrible!!! How many tractors do we have to have out there on the road, anyway. Slow moving vehicles aren't what screws up the flow of things, it's the idiot tailgating behind it who won't pass it! I also had the guy who drives slow UNTIL you try to pass him. HOWEVER, he saw me getting his plate number and when I waved my cell at him, he sped up and stayed quite a ways ahead of me. What the fuck does that DO, pissing off all the people behind you on the road? A couple of weeks ago here, some guy shot a guy in the back of the head over shit like that. There is no point in all that, GET OUT OF MY WAY PEOPLE! MY ROAD! Branson is what ruined me for driving, by the way. I really used to love tooling on out ANYWHERE, but after I graduated, I started working there. The STRIP is an extremely short patch of road where all the shows, mini golf, go karts, and baubles can be had. But it takes hours upon hours to go from one end to the other, it's maddening! OLD PEOPLE pointing at everything, "Wow, look! That buffet is only $3.99! It'll be cheaper with our senior citizen discount!"
Sickening, if you ask me. The only thing worse is watching them actually eat and then have to clean up after their asses, while THEY are back on the road again, trudging ever so slowly to wherever the next craft fair or other elderly pursuit is.
You know, behind the wheel is where I seem to have the most problem controlling my temper. My language is atrocious, made worse by the spittle inducing rage I fly into. I need help, I'm mad all the time. I lash out at those around me, but feel the guilt later, promising to make more effort the next time. I dont know, I'm not always really that bad, but I feel like I am. My daughter told me a while back she wished I'd smile more. I told her I loved her, and that HER smiles were the only thing I was concerned with. She is the only person I enjoy conversation with, but I still wish I spent MORE time with her.
I'm reclusive, what can I say? I'm probably not as bad as I make myself seem, but then again, I havent posted yet while still under the spell of the anger sharks. What will you think of me then? Let me know, so far, would ya? I plan on being around quite awhile. And eventually divulging all my little "secrets".
Nope, nothing like THAT. I'm too lazy to be a serial killer. My fantasies involving murder involve more of a vigilanteism. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
Take out the trash, so to speak...

Wierdgraveh...

I once had an icecube, pretty little ice cube, now it's gone, now it's gone. Her name was Mary, pretty little ice cube, now she's gone, now she's gone..." I love Primus. I am strange like that. It's (me) definitely a beat, but not very easy to dance to. Almost an awkward jig, ala Jim Morrison, without the hip/cool. OR the happ'nin'. Ya dig?
Like my new pic? Over the next couple days, I will be sharing a few "candid" pics of me. I call this one the Mike Tyson. My neck looks like it belongs in the NFL. I was supposed to see a movie tonight but I just didn't want it to be the Da Vinci Code. I was going to opt out for gore instead with See No Evil with Kane (some huge wrestler.) Unfortunately, the only cinema playing it was the dreaded Fiesta Square cinema, a place that I have personally vowed never to return to. Oh wells, I have to get up at six a.m. to go to Silver Dollar City and I know that's going to be sheer hell. I treasure those mornings where I don't have to be up at the crack of dawn. Kids have NO FUCKING IDEA how much sacrifice we parents go through on their behalf. I'm just the guy hassling them, and keeping them from living their lives the way they gosh darn wanna. Right, they don't realize that I've been a rebellious teen back in the day, and full of ransackery. Fuck that now, I'd rather answer to someone who financially supports ME. Work sucks, and by the end of the week, I'm at my wits end, like I've just narrowly avoided drowning, breaking through to the surface after thrashing desperately the last few feet! I can't see how living like this will do anything but harm to me in the long run. Some weeks it is easier than others.
And to all a good night...
But wait, there's more!!!!!
I did go and eat Chinese at this new place but can't remember the name. It had a (goddamn) "Mongorian" Barbecue with a cook that spoke not a "rick" of "Engrish". I asked if I could have mine cooked just a "rittre ronger" to give me the crispiness I so "rong" for when I'm hugging my "pirrow" in the middle of the night. He goofily stares distantly at me, immediately clueing me in that he's not catching my drift AT ALL. And since the article came out about the family that was legally asked to leave a Chinese restaurant because they wasted TOO MUCH FOOD, they've been getting cocky. Ours hovered over us, looking approvingly/disapprovingly depending on the emptiness of our plates before filling a new one. I didn't really care, I don't like Chinese AND I damn sure don't have ANY love for the bacteria buffet these places put out for your munching pleasure. I catch people coming out of the bathroom attempting, unsuccessfully, to avoid washing their hands sometimes! And THEN getting more food., putting their dick slobbers all over the tongs, or spatula, or LADLE, or...
It's just rude and disgusting people. You should be roundhouse kicked to the head for visually being caught NOT observing proper safety and cleanliness procedures. I mean come, don't just splash a few drops of water on your "buttmeal" covered pecker pounders! Lather up, you selfish bastards! I do it for my kids, I do it for all who are going to eat it. I also don't do taste tests with the spoon I'm stirring stuff with. Hell, we might as all just start French kissing now. I once saw my dear own Mother drinking straight from the gallon of milk as a kid. Not as horrendously traumatic as the time I caught Mom and Dad doing what I like to call "The UNMENTIONABLE" but scary nonetheless. I don't believe there is anything wrong with feeling like this, do you?
I just don't want what you have. Kind of like what that guy says in The Frighteners.
"You are invading my territorial bubble!!!"
I'm wrecked now, I had so much to be pissed off about and horrid things in my life to lament, but I heard a bunch of good tunes and hung out with Herb. Now the bad has become only the mildly annoying. Yet sleep beckons me now.
Later I will tell you just how much I hate me, you, us, THEM (oh-h-h-h especially THEM), we, they, and even the dreaded THOSE! Maybe I will whine, I will surely gnash my teeth. I may foam. Nay, even bore into you pleadingly with mine own beacons of helpless bewilderment. OK, I could've just said eyes there. Enough ten dollar words.
Time to hop on that magical train that takes you on down to "Sleepies" house.
Woot Woot!!!

Finally, a FITTING picture of the Gravehman hisself! As you can tell, this is an old photo of me from last year. My, how those cheeks change in the span of just one year. It's been a few days, did you think I forgot about this blog? Not a chance in heck. Heck, I say! I've just been busy with a whole lot of nothing. I just got back from Hose's and I must say, it was pretty crappy food and the waitress was practically nonexistent, even just to refill drinks. Kinda like her tip, too.
Admittedly, I don't like people all over me at eateries or stores, I'm not really much of a social person, and strangers are DANGER to me. If I need help, I will ask. If I need my drink refilled or the check, I will signal properly. Usually with a, "Yo, lady, we're ready now!" Empty glasses should be put at the side of the table she comes around to check by. And DON'T refill my tea or coffee UNTIL I'm pretty much finished. Do you have any idea how long it takes me to get it right?!?!?!? The ratio of sugar to whatever it is I'm drinking is critical, so "topping me off" really fucks up the equation. Do I put four sugars in my tea now? NO, because there is still who knows how much in the bottom!!! To me, it's like wiping your ass when you're only halfway done, just doesn't make sense, does it?
The only other thing I've done since the last postie was went to an AA meeting last night. I will have three years sobriety in October. But I don't go very often anymore. I'm a low maintenance recovering alkie, I don't need to be all up in it. Here's the delimna with this plan. I go to my first one in weeks last night, and everybody immediately assumes the worst when I re-show up. "How are you, Ronnie? No... REALLY. How ARE you?" THEN, when they offer up desire chips for newbies (or those who needed to do more research on alcoholism) everybody looks at ME. Some background: I am very unorthodox in my A.A.ness. I smoke pot. There I said it. But I don't remember ever betting a room full of people that I wasnt going to barf, THEN barfing, BECAUSE I WAS TOO HIGH . I dont remember ever vomiting all over my genitals because it "just felt right" while I was bare assed, pissing off a bridge in broad daylight BECAUSE I WAS TOO HIGH. I haven't a problem with the cheeba. In fact, I feel its done more wonders for me than any of those Paxils and Wellbutrins and Klonopins and Xanaxes ever did. An all natural antidepressant, imagine that. Now if it was just legal.
Man, I ramble off on a tangent. I am a happy guy who tokes, yet doesn't slurp the hooch. If I want to see drunken stupidity, I can watch others perform in my stead. Will I ever fall off the wagon? Remains to be seen, but I doubt it. Drunk people piss me off now, and I don't like the smell of it at all anymore. I've decided to make Fridays, if I can remember, MOVIE REVIEW DAY here at DITHOTL, or as I like to call it, "The LADLE."
I saw Poseidon LAST Friday night, it was "surprisingly good." B+, woulda been an A- but Kurt Russell was in it. Don't EVEN get me started about Kurt Russell...
DERP.

He shoots... He SCORES!!!

And just in time too. I'd hate to lose my creative edge/anti depressant. With it, I am a SUPERSTUD, ala Bert Convy. Without...?
Well, we don't want to imagine what THAT's like, do we? I hate Monday, for thirteen odd and unlucky years now I've had to dread getting up and enduring a hard day at work surrounded by knuckleheads and people whose lives are so pathetic that they must constantly try to throw others out of whack. I had to teach people who don't speak a lick of English how to do what I wanted them to do, even though it was someone else's responsibility altogether. But they are nice people and ultimately, due to THEIR performance, affect the outcome of MY performance ratings, and that means whether or not I get a sweet, kickass bonus or not. So who's the fool now? Other inspectors treat the workers like shit, not me. It's a win-win situation when you have everyone on "your team." I have lookouts for when my boss heads out into the plant. I get ALL the latest info and dirt, and an early heads up on Saturday work so I can find replacement help before it's all gone. And when you are loved by the masses, the back up is felt when you go toe to toe with the Head Cheese in his office. Enough talk about work. Still watching Grandma's Boy practically on a nightly basis. It's the new Baseketball in my world, dont'cha know now, hey?
I know what you're thinking...
When are the rants gonna come? Soon, always the calm.
Before the storm...

This day in HISTORY...

...Wink Martindale was most definitely getting it on with a hottie. Somewhere, and on a daily basis when he was on the air. He's probably even got Wilt beat.

Oh Brother, It's Mother's Day!!!

So I'd planned on waxing politically philosophical today but then, I hadn't gotten out of bed yet this morning/early afternoon. I started by calling MY mom and talking about hooking up at Silver Dollar City NEXT weekend. So after a wake and bake, we head on out to BBQ at her parents' house who, strangely, are absent throughout the whole visit. Felt like it defeated the purpose of even being there. However, I WAS suckerpunched into mowing their lawn as a Mamma's Day present. We headed on over to her cousin Eduardo's after, a place I do not like to go to. His Dad, Hector, is a drunk tool who becomes increasingly annoying as he progresses through the drinkeries and patience of those around him. He's a dick basically, and one time, tried to touch my (and a friend's) pee pee late one night sitting around drinking. BAD TOUCH. I played pool there for awhile then my brother in law, Julio, needed someone sober to haul his ass around like a taxi and it looks like I won the honors of doing so. We stop at his duplex, and on the way back, he asks me to stop at these dubious apartment buildings. Maybe he can score a spleef in there. When the door opens and a heavily pimpled, underfed white chick peeks out at us from the dark, I knew I was too late to get out of a truly horrendous situation unfolding before me. When a white guy walks into a room with other guys, all hispanic mainly, he is immediately the subject of suspicion. Especially when they are pretty much ALL on crank and are tweaking out of their minds. They all speak in Spanish, not realizing that I know what they are saying anyway, so it usually gives me a little warning of trouble if it should arise. But I still dont like being put in situations like that without my consent. The cops could be on the way, someone could be a raving lunatic on his day of snapping, anything could happen. I guess what really pissed me off the most about it was that all it ended up being was ME watching HIM do a couple of lines while everyone's buttholes puckered in the meantime. Yes, he offerred me a line, but I'm not into that. I've done my time before with THAT in my younger days. Eddie Money has it all wrong. I DON'T wanna go back and/or do it all over. But that's beside the point. He pretty much barged in on a group of lowlifes with a tagalong stranger, palms out, and that's the kind of shit that ends up with you being found in the woods with a new hole in the back of your head. So I came back here to be alone and reflect, get it down and jizzam out to some Howard Jones. No, he's NOT the "She Blinded Me With Science" guy, he's kinda similar but quite good once you give this treat a twirl.
So anyway, got to watch my brother in law do lines in some scumbags roach infested aprtment/fuck palace. Great. He also bragged about doing a three way with his buddy on that girl who answered the door. I can't believe he told me, I wanted to barf, so I was pretty much reduced to shaking my head and groaning in his general direction afterwards. Free pimpled ass, come and get it. The thing I ponder the most is when I meet up with said white girls who've "defected" and then realize that any other races can be just as shitty, or even shittier, than her own. They don't like to lock gazes with me, as if in shame. Or like I'll give them the "I told you so" look. Personally, I dont give a shit. Whatever bed you make, YOU WILL LIE IN IT.
Don't take this as some kind of rascist blog, my wife's half of the family is El Salvadorean, and they are some mean, badass Muthas in their own right. Machete wielding, war loving, psychotic, badass Muthas. But loyal, you just gotta keep your eyes on them when they are on the juice. Ah well, such is life. At least I didn't get shot in the face by some tweaked out pepper belly.
MY dear Mother wouldn't like THAT one bit...

Ahhh, Lindsey... You should feel honored, I normally don't go for redheads.

And the HORROR begins ANEW...

Hey world, check ME out! Will this be something worth bothering to read? Will the Graveh post on a semi regular basis? WILL he SNAP, and do something muy horrible to exact his revenge on mankind in general?
Let me introduce myself: I am Ronnie. I am a strange man/boy in his thirties. I am warped and twisted, bent and completely out of whack. Possibly not even firing on all cylinders. I like music, mostly ZAPPA, Duran, Depeche Mode, Primus (and Les Claypool's other bands), NIN, Ant, IDOL, the Cure, Erasure, and numerous other dastardly bands or musicians.
Movies: Horror- Clive Barker stuff (Nightbreed, Hellraiser), LIVING DEAD (and other select zombie films) Comedy- Warped and bizarre, anything off the wall (Rocketman, or anything with Harland Williams) Right now Grandma's Boy is holding fast for the top honors of overly watched DVD right now. I used to email with Nick Swardson a little after it came out in the theaters. His comedy is pure fucking genius. I love stand up too. Harland, Attell, Swardson, Dave Cross, Patton Oswald, join old faves Steve Martin, Carlin, Pryor, Crystal, Wright, Kinnison, among other fogies THIS fogminded person can't seem to "recollect" at this juncture.
I will do this alot, lose my train of thought. Do not be alarmed. I also tend to ramble. But hopefully, if this all goes according to plan, then it will cover me in court for my insanity plea. OOPS, guess I shouldnt have shared THAT with all ye. Looks like my plans have been foiled. Trust me, people, Gravehman is too lazy to be a serial killer. Hell, too lazy to even "part time" it.
But I do have an opinion on EVERYTHING, not always the popular one either. I am an acquired taste. The question is: DO YOU HAVE THE FEVER FOR THE FLAVOR?
I also sometimes talk like yoda. I'm open to comments and suggestions but BEWARE.
Mess with the bull, you will get the horn. I'm looking for either truly helpful comments or at least inventive in their cruelty and taunt expertise. I can take whatever is dished out, nothing is sacred in the world of laugh and point. So don't get pissed if I diss Jesus OR Manson. I don't discriminate, I will break it off in someone, no matter WHAT color the meat surrounding the orifice I'm jammin' a boot up in. It's all pink in the middle.
YAY, so it has begun.