Todays Menu: Cannibals, Autism, and White Trash Goodbyes...

Hannibal, it seems, is back once again...
Rising...
Yet this is a not so humble glance into his beginnings. What a storied life that fictional man lived. I guess at some point I need to read all those books so I can get the full effect of it all.
"And there was a younger, sleeker version of he in this one, kiddies!!!"

Well, he definitely had the cheesed, ever Hannibal-like questions down. That was one thing bothering me throughout this film. Another would be that hugantic, ginormous divot/dimple he had in his cheek, what the hell was that all about? Also would be the maniacal gleam he had in eyes constantly, unlike my main man, Sir Philip Anthony Hopkins. His look was always that of a calm, rationale psychopath. This kid was just creepy looking...

In the tale of the tape then, Hopkins lays waste to this kid. You want this kid to be just as good, but it just doesn't work in the end. The story, while watchable, is the poorest out of the whole bunch thus far. It is extremely slow and not nearly as head scratchingingly perplexing as the others.
"We give it a B-!!!"
If not for the gore, watered down some for the unrated DVD version, this would be C grade territory here. I looked up the guy playing young Hanny on the net, and found he was in that French werewolf movie, Brotherhood of the Wolf, which was actually pretty good, but can't remember who he even was. I just think he was a bad choice. I saw alot of other good ones in the opposingly villanous roles, but it's hard to make up for blowing the casting in the lead. Hannibal is too well loved by many to fuck it up like that. That would be like planning Star Wars Episodes 7-9 and casting Andy Dick as a elder Luke Skywalker, and Andy Griffith as the rogueish Han Solo. It just ain't happening, folks. I was disappointed, to say the least. But not completely bored with it all. I gave it a chance, what can I say?
I feel like there is more I should say, but can't. It's undefendable to me. The high point of the whole film was when there was a quiet part in the film and my daughter blurts out, in the perfect spot...
"Uncle Donnie?!?!?!?!?
I cracked up on that one. She is a chip off the old block, I couldn't help but be amazed, and proud, of her well timed quote. And for a ten year old, she's better than me at inserting the more bizarre movie quotes in at just the perfect place. When we came home from watching Grandma's Boy, she already had all of Dante's lines memorized. She is like Rain Man or something...
Yet I refuse to play Tom Cruise. Although, I could pretend for Katie Holmes, if she so chose. At least I'm taller.
"What's left, then?"
Anna Nicole Smith. Dead. That's about all that means to me. The Anti-Katie Couric, in mein eyes. Good riddance.
Until her autopsy report comes back...
And we find out who her baby's daddy is...

Doink, Doink, Turkey's Done!!!

Ok, I've fumed long enough. What the fuck happened to the Bears after that initial kickoff return? Actually, they got ever more horrendous as the rain increased. They acted like they had never played in the rain before. Indianapolis wasn't much better, hell, even the kicker doinked one. I guess the forces of nature really wanted a cheeseball fuck like Peyton to get his "due" or whatever the deal was for him to win the big one. I also did not watch the Prince halftime shindig. Just wasn't interested in watch a guy barely over five feet tall wielding his guitar like it was an extension of his manhood. But I did stay and watch the whole dabacle unfold. So...
On to next season then, after a quick romp this weekend to Hawaii for the Pro Bowl. I normally halfass watching it whilst doing other things. I'm just hoping Herm gets a little more going next year and that Priest and Larry can both go downtown on a regular basis. If they can both hang on the same team. I'm hoping. Larry is a workhorse and Priest is a razzle dazzle sort of guy. A lethal combination.
So let's have at it then, Juan Puto, give me your best shot, if you haven't actually forgotten where this lil slice of web heaven is. I'm waiting...
(Bitch...)
I know this is probably a lame post, but I can't be the shit everytime, now can I? And I like to share the lameness of my life and the lamer things that make my day go round; physically and mentally. Not just ramble on conspiracy theories and Sassafrassquatch sightings like there is no tomorrow. I liken it to those childhood trips to Sunday School at the Assemblies of God in Eldon, Missouri. Get up at the crack of dawn to get on the Joy Bus, ride to some overly adorned building, inside and out, endure their bullshit for a few hours, then hop back on the Joy Bus to be deposited at my driveway with...
"The prize!!!"
Yes, gang, nothing gets kids closer to Jesus than by promising them bags of candy when you drop them off at their house, after the attempted brainwashing. Sometimes, they gave you ice cream sandwiches, praise glory hallelujah!!! So if you can sift through the symphony of Worldly Clamour that is my thoughts and feelings, and get a chuckle or feel my anguish, then fuck it. It's all good. Enjoy the silliness, too. I'm going to go see Hannibal Rising Friday night, so I will have more time to myself and possibly might just be in the mood for something. I don't know exactly what yet, but I'm feeling it right now coming on...
Could be the bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats though...
I love trailing off in my sentences...

Oates and Bonsall: Stache Battle Royale!!!

We start with Exhibit A: Joe Bonsall, eerily high pitched frontman for the legendary Oak Ridge Boys, born the spring of 1948 in Philadelphia. Note the testosterone ozzing out of that lipwarming "stache" as no other man in the known world could possibly best in battle...
But little did he know there was another!!!

Exhibit B: John Oates, worthless precursor to WHAM!'s Andrew Ridgley, also born in the spring of 1948 not in Philly, but in New York City. However he would return to Philadelphia to exact his revenge.
"Oh yes-s-s-s-s-s-s..."
There can be only one ("stache")!!!

When it was realized by John that Oates and Bonsall were in fact twins, separated at birth and Oates quickly relocated to NYC with fake documents stating he was born there, well...
This was more than the guitar miming half of Hall and Oates could take, the kind of thing to get your moustache bristling something mighty fierce!
"I was one half of the most successful duo of all time!!!, he could be heard to cry out for no reason.
Then came that fateful time in 1981. Hall and Oates were ripping up the charts with the Private Eyes album, but without domination in the rock, polka, and country music charts, their success seemed tarnished. At least in the oft privately turmoiled eyes, and thoughts, of Oates, it was. He festered nightly, humming the tune to Elvira, the Bonsall/Oak Ridge Boys' hit, to himself incessantly.
And with that, he set out on his mission: to take Bonsall out of the equation, and rule, once and for all...
Alone.
Whatever the cost.
Which he did, of course. Hall and Oates began their upswing that was to, ironically, be cut down just three short years later after Big Bam Boom. You can't make shady deals in shady places like that without expecting payment to be due, when it is due. The Oak Ridge Boys had already found a way to carry on, in the form of lifesized, permed wig, and body hair covered brown marionette for shows and interviews to cover the loss of Joe. They also used the voice of Carol Channing forever after in the recording studio as it was an uncanny match to Bonsall's. They kept this charade going until obscurity.
This gave Daryl Hall an idea. As John had been rather small, but macho nonetheless (!), he devised a plan. Why not do the "Boys" up one better? Use the actual well preserved corpse of his Rock&Soul-mate instead of a dummy, and have a hole in the back of John, near the rectum, to put his much longer arm through to mimic Oates's brlliant banter and head/hair shake in interviews and preshow record signings at Hastings and State Fairs all over the states. As Hall's voice was the reason they had fame in the first place, the world didn't seem to care. In the end...
"If you live by the "stache", then you will die by the "stache".
It is just that simple, folks.

Coup de Pawt: Late to Work in Hell

Another meaningless "How do you do?" tonight, but I'm trying to post more and also get some rawness going here. Here's to it not turning out to be another Chinese Fire Drill.
"Get ready for it..."
He's choking already!!!
So I was late for work this morning. Here's how I believe it went down. Afer that I will tell you what I told my boss and then you can compare. Ready? Here we go...
I set my alarm for 4:30 am as usual, then reset it for 5:30 when it goes off. This time I went for 8 more minutes.
"And here's where you done did wrong, son."
The only thing I did at 5:30 this morning was set the regular time up 8 minutes and left it uselessly set at 5:30 am for the next day...
D'OH!!!
So I wake up around 6:15 but think it's 6:23. I call my boss and give him the big "My bad!" and tell him I'm on my way. I get there and he starts hassling me with tirades on why I still don't have a back up alarm clock. I know, sounds completely anal. So I tell him I ain't into them, and he tells me to go to work and contemplate what happened and we'd talk about it later. Fuck him, is all I have to say. We go into the office later and jawjack it around. He says I was late once last year...
"Egads, Graveh, this cain't be trooo!"
(Nice accent, by the way.)
And also, once I was late/or gone in 2005, not calling in sick on time by only 3 minutes because I was up all night caring for my sick kid, and had it and pinkeye, as well. I told him those were so long ago they were no big deal. He freaked out on me after that and I tried to contain my laughter.
Heartless bastard.
Later he told me to fill out a form for those 45 minutes I was late. I asked him why he didn't fill it out for me as I was obviously tired, since I'd overslept. He was not ammused by this, and said you had to fill them out whether you were too tired regardless. Then I killed him...
"No, keeds, I'ze only pullin yer leg heeyah."
I said something I'm not going to repeat tonight...
Not tonight.
But another person was late too, because she witnessed an accident on her deserted stretch of country road (and hour and a half's worth) and stayed long enough to call the fuzz so they could help, but then left immediately after they said they were on their way. He tried to chew her out, too. She had only been 15 minutes late...
Is a coup in order here? Has the revolution begun again?
This brings me to my next question:
"What are you doing up this late?"
Ok, ok, goodnight then. Maybe a few more puffs...
Gnarly!!!

Bustin' the Bomb Devil Dance, By Diggity!!!

I just bought the new Depeche Mode Touring the Angel Live in Milan 2 DVD plus live cd of some of the newer songs. I would have preferred the older, more tried and true hits of course, but it wasn't up to me. Still sounds good though, and the concert is once again the bomb diggity.
"Gets the lil devil in me dancin'!"
I almost bought a DVD/cd combo of DM that had some of the early videos on it, but not a few big ones I wanted as well. I just know a complete early years DVD will come out and I will be pissed. Yeah I know, I will have enjoyed that until then, but that's not the point, is it?
To quote Little Richard on this one:
That's what you want baby! You want it all or none!
Wow, I thought I had more in me left to write. I feel drained now. I just went and made a sandwich to combat fatigue, loaded with raw spinach. That's right, I said raw spinach. But it is lean turkey breast, but processed cheese instead of the real cheddar I usually prefer to enjoy. I was out. The end.
Wow, after this cigarette, I think I will curl up on a section of the couch and watch a movie. I'm just not worth a damn right now.
"I'm also bored shitless!"
I may have to break out that Depeche on the bigscreen with some Surround thrown in there for good measure.
Dance, lil devil, dance!!!
Bust a move...
(Or two.)

A Battle Between the Heavens!!!

"A duel, if you will..."
And suddenly, it was! And woe be unto them that witnessed this that had befallen on this eve of destruction...
The hero.

The villain!

Then did they clash, as a mighty trumpet sounded, signalling that this was a no holds barred, fight for the fate of all worth saving, what little was left.
"Who struck the telling blow...?"
Only heaven, and hell, knows...

The Hitch Sitch: Who To Ditch?

Whe I had heard they were remaking The Hitcher, I was pretty skeptical. I mean how, just how, can you replace Rutger Hauer. I saw they used Jake Busey in the sequel to the original, to disastrous results. This did not bode well at all for a cult horror classic from the 80's. Would they stay true to the original, or take it on a new course? Could Sean Bean hold up as a suave but maniacal... uhhh... madman?

In the end, although entertaining and often jumpy, I have to say the old couldn't be topped. The guy started out with a girlfriend from the beginning, and he's the one that gets pulled apart by the semis in the end. I just think the french fried finger in the groundbreaking original can't be left out, or outdone. I give it a B...
"Minus!!!"
This is only to scold an industry that of late seems to be rehashing ideas that didn't need rehashing in the first place. Willy Wonka? Dukes of Hazzard? The Hills Have Eyes? Wait, the original of that wasn't even good. See where I'm going with this...?
Pointless.
So in the end, Rutger KO's the competition. This is almost as retarded as doing a Blade Runner remake. Sure you can dip it in glitter and deep fry it, but it's still a ball of shit at the center. Why? Because it never needed to be redone. Let my grandkids pine for that movie, I'm fine as tis.
Also, my dad broke his wrist in three places last Sundayish or something, falling on the ice which has covered much of Missouri at this time. They have also been without power for a week, with a storm looming ahead tomorrow sometime in the evening. Not much luck going on for old Dad, but he will pull through as he tough like The Duke. Wish he'd give me those painkillers. But he won't. Still pullin' for you though, pops!
Amazingly, although it was cold here a few days, we were spared any of the wintery grief that waylaid Springfield just two short hours to the north. I heard today that this incoming one might miss us too, which is fine since it will be in the high thirties/low forties next week anyway. Work won't be hindered so, once again, what's the point?
Otherwise bring it!

Payton's Bitch...

Yeah yeah yeah, senorita Juanita, I hear you talking now, but what happens when Indy blows their game with New England? Then they will be just another team that made it only so far. Chiefs were near to being undefeated a few scant years ago and were called the NEW GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH, also lit up a few Sports Illustrated covers and a little late night tv, had a few NFL records in rushing and such, punt/kick returns, scoring. So your argument is weak, they (your shitty team) ain't winning any Superbowls either, in fact...
NONE as the Indianapolis Colts, with Payton to boot. So fuck off Juan Valdon't even, they won one game and made it far enough to get destroyed by the Patriots this weekend...
"The sun shines even on a dog's ass somedays."
Congratulations numnutz...
Sadly the Chief's last Superbowl appearance, and win, was in #4 in 1970, followed by...
You guessed it, the Baltimore Colts in #5 in 1971. Now guess what, school's over now, run along, spouting about that which you do not know, somewhere's else. But I always welcome all challengers...
I just thought there would be a little better competition!
Oh wellz. I wonder what kind of pussy trash talk, hopefully once again in broken "Engrish", we will be grorified with if Indy actually pulls off a miracle. Fuck Indy, and fuck Payton, Juan. He is so overrated, you are only as good as the teammates that surround you, until they aren't there anymore for whatever reason: retirement, injury, and free agency. And he will go the way of Brett Favre, into humiliating defeat after defeat until he is beaten into the submission that is retirement.
You are probably not even from Indy, are you? I'm from Missouri, so I will worship whichever team I want to, as it my duty and pleasure to a rich and storied franchise, you fucktard. Lamar Hunt even coined the phrase Superbowl.
Juan H., please make love to yourself.
Often.
Have other large men help with this when you can.
Did I say fuck Indy...?
Oh yeah, I did.
I'm rooting for the Bears or Saints regardless now, so it don't make me no nevermind.
Bring it.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

And So the Siege Begins!!!

So a three man running back by committee approach it is then, eh? If you can get Priest and Larry to agree to share ball time. In reality it would be fantastic, as they are completely differently styled runners, and those guys pounding on you would wear you out and set you up for a nice long pass. Hell, why not just get Marcus Allen to come out of retirement, I bet he's got a few leaps left in him.
"Over the pile, buddeh!!!"
This is the part of the year I hate the most, watching jerkoffs like San Diego misrepresenting and ending up a New England/Indy showdown. I will be rooting for winner of Bears/Saints game.
So now I must sit and wait for scant Chiefs news, and pine. I live for football, there is no substitute when it is gone. Sure news picks up around July but September is a long way off. What can I dive into now?
Nothing!!!
The season seemed to go by so fast this time. I wish I could go into a coma until the next started. Post season football blues...
Yay for me.
I get to dig in now...

The Superbowl Sniffle...

So there it is, checked in red all the games I expect the Chiefs to win next year. 13-3, that's my prediction. I read the interview with Herm Edwards, and he looks to shake things down out there. I just hope and pray he knows what he's doing with my beloved team. Supposedly Priest Holmes will be back and maybe a third younger running back as well. He claims he needs three to carry the load. Running back by committee. It's been tried before with no success, hope he's got a mean plan. When it's done right, it opens up the field for long passes and then it is all over but the celebrations. That is what I'm hoping for as I'd like to have a championship while I'm still alive. I'd even love to be at the game somehow. But they gotta get there first.
It is cold and shitty here now, but not as bad as a little farther north, like in Springfield where my parents live. Many are without power, including them, and ice is abundant. Hope it gets here by Monday morning. I'd like to sleep in.
So anyway, only around eight months until football starts again for me. I will watch and root for what's left this year, mainly New Orleans and the Bears. Fuck Indy and New England, Chargers too. Either redemption in Louisiana or one for Walter Payton's ghost. Take your pick. I don't really care now. My life has ended, there is no gawd...
I need a ring!!!
"My... my preciousssss!

Primeval Kroks and Shit, Yo!!!

I'm gonna spoil it right here for you: It's not about a serial killer, like they insinuate in the teaser trailer. It's about a really big crocodile, I have no idea how much is true, and some local guerilla shit going down in some African shithole, I read Hutus in there, so whatever floats your boat.
Anyway...
It was ok but it pisspoured all the way to and from the theater, and apparently we need new wiper blades, badly in fact. So it was interesting enough to warrant a B - perhaps? Not bad, the action was pretty spot on brutal but any movie about a crocodile with Orlando Jones "blackin' it up" on the side in spite of his predicament, just doesn't deserve the kind of love an A would give.
And that wouldn't be fair. It was watchable at least, I'll give it that.
The last Gator/Croc movie I saw had Betty White in it, and that's kinda hard to top.
Werd, yo.
All up in dat.

FryDaddyTrannyLegs...

I've recently rediscovered my love for ABC. They are fucking awesome, especially around the How To Be A Zillionaire era. Too bad they died out, but I read they had eleven top ten songs throughout the 80s. So there. I've been watching the trippy video for Be Near Me. Martin Fry, your voice is like butter. Dig the suit too...

Which brings me to the other band I've been enjoying lately. A gender bender if you ever heard of one, Pete Burns, you scare the shit out of me, but damn that's fine music. Just don't ever show me your balls ever again, please. I like the look in the Brand New Lover video, all stretched out screenwise, and the general scenery of it all. Whips. Always a must. And boy he can dance.
Yes, I'm talking about Dead or Alive, for those not in the know here by now. Infectuously hard beats, is all I'm sayin...
I bought The Illusionist on DVD today, and am now off to watch it. The kids are already in bed too, so I can enjoy in peace. I love this movie, watch it, and you will too.
I'd bet your balls on it.

Oh Gawd, You Devil!!!

So, now that I've posted a pic of me, that pic is already too old of me. I'm not this dashingly handsome now, sorry. My bad.
Not much going on other than nursing my football wounds. Damn you Indy, damn you all to hell. But I did go see Children of Men Friday night. I give it an A. Very good, and Clive Owen is kick ass. Weird idea for a movie too: The only kid born in 18 years and she is black.
So, I'm just kicking it here at home, it's a little cool outside. My tummy hurts a little too. I went to the mall and bought my daughter's guinea pig some chewy sticks. I like to play with her and make her squeak. She is my new friend. Until she pees on me...
What else? Uhhhh......
Two forums I hang on are MIA or soon to be. Craptv hass gone haywire and kookoo, even batnutz. Then I find the Duran one is being killed due to assholishness. Surprised it ever lasted so long. People suck, I just wanted crisp copies of my shows that I'd went to, and maybe some other memorable ones. I got them, and even made a few good friends along the way. Oh well. Better luck next time. But Crap down is killing me. That is my home, my daily hangout. Now I'm building my favorites list on Youtube. So anyway, that is my life. Thanks for stopping by.
Check me out and/or friend me on Youtube. I am rongravy there. And I rule.
I even have video of me there.

Someone Help Billeh!!!

Ahhhh, the plot sickens. The place I worked at last Friday is rearing it's ugly head back up again by way of dagger in the back, my amigos. I found out only today that the guy I worked for complained about my work there. What a fucktard, I only came there to fill in for a shorthanded staff. Look at the thanks I get. Personally I think he'd already taken a special shine to me. I caught him staring at me through his window thing all day. At least I know he's not gay, just a fucking prick.
"What a load off my mind!"
Now all I have to do is refute his bullshit and redeem myself in the eyes of my boss. Actually, I hope mine is smart enough to not fall for it, but I will find out tomorrow. In reality it is no problem or sweat off of my balls. I can handle anything thrown at me in that arena and usually end up handing them their nuts in a doggy bag to boot. It's just a shitty thing to have done to me, and it's always depressing when you have to deal with unnecessary bullshit like this when you are already dealing with a full load already. I mean come on, I was helping you, what is your fucking deal? When jerkoffs like you drop the ball and acts of kindness stop being done by nice people like me, then we are all headed for a world of backstabbing pricks like you.
"So come on, cut that shit out and be a man, you got a problem, say it to my face, don't shake my hand and thank me for coming, if you don't mean it. But I can't see how you couldn't but help but mean that, not try to bite the hand that did all your work for you. You weasely fuck."
Sorry, that last sentence snuck in there. I'll leave that out of my speech tomorrow...

Happy Hellidays!!!

First I'm gonna start off with a review of the movie I saw last night: Black Christmas. Although another slasher film, it wasn't all that bad. A tad confusing at times with the whole inbreeding thing and who is related to who, killerwise, and few too many flashbacks, but the overall gory festiveness (is that even a word?) made it enjoyable.
"The Vicodin helped too..."
Hey, don't jump ahead in the story here!
So I'm giving it a B-. Like I said, the flick had its good and bad points. I figured since it took place in a sorority house, that there would be beaucoup tits and ass, but it really wasn't all that bad. Nowhere near as naughty as Hostel, I had to send my kids out on that one. Just a few hottie nipples here and there, and an ass crack or two. I can live with that...
"Which brings us to the holidays..."
Christmas was ok, except I was starting to feel a little icky. I was supposed to be off the Friday after, but someone pulled some bullshit at another plant and I ended up having to work an hour and a half away. So I spent eight hours on the road that day.
Hey buddeh, the math don't add up here!
Well, I had to drive to Springfield, Missouri to pick up my daughter, round trip, which adds another five hours to the total. Thus the eight hours, my friends, and the whole story behind that is stressful and depressing as well, but hopefully taken care of. We will have to see on that one.
So we move on to New Year's Eve...
By this time I'm deathly ill, and have no idea what the hell is wrong with me. My chest and lungs hurt, my joints ache, my throat hurts and swells up, diarrhea, vomiting, dizziness, head and serious sinus pressure, ear infection...
"And a general feeling of death warmed over!"
So after I watch the Chiefs win their game and miraculously make it into the playoffs (a story for another day and post), I am taken to the hospital Emergency Room. Everybody must have been pissed they had to work that night because they took it out on poor old Graveh. The admissions lady kept telling me to put this stupid facemask on, but everytime I did, I would be violently wracked with coughs that made me vomit or spit up, yet she kept on and on.
Evil heartless bitch!
So I sit waiting while my wife takes care of insurance stuff at yet another window, as I sit puking/coughing my lungs up. My wife told me later that this lady told her I was making myself sick on purpose, for some ungodly reason. Looking back, I guess they thought I was faking it to get some drugs or something, as by this time I hadn't shaved or showered in awhile and was looking pretty unkempt. So I finally get in, and they are still being pretty shitty with me. The guy comes in and viciously swabs my throat with a large Q-tip. Then he pulls out another one, this time even longer and with a flexible shaft. I knew what was coming...
"You're not gonna put that down my nostril, are you?!?!?!"
Why yes, how did you know?
So the first two times he tries to jam that thing down in there I rip it out. He's not happy at all, and pulls out a third. I tell him to get it done quick, because I'm ready to grab his nads and rip those bastards off! He even had a grimace on his face as he's doing all this to me. About this time, all the New Year's drunks and accident victims start showing up. I'm now laying around suffering, unable to breathe, waiting for them to come back and give me some fucking relief. Chest x rays commence, eventually I'm given some sort of bogus breathing treatment that doesn't seem to help, then a chick comes in and takes most of my blood. I admit, she was the only nice one in there to me, bless her heart. They come back and tell me that not only do I have a nice little case of bronchitis, but that I'm also sporting some serious strep throat action as well. Does this soften them up any at all?
"Of course not!"
The guy gives me a prescription for an inhaler, some antibiotics, and a measely twenty Vicodins for my troubles. He also refuses to give me anything more than 2 days off of work...
What a dick!
Whatever happened to bedside manners, or whatever the hell it's called? Compassion, maybe even? I mean, Jeez dood, they found out I wasn't faking it. So I leave the ER and glare at the cunt (pardon my French) at admissions on my way out. Only one pharmacy is open on this night: Walgreens. They were shitty with me too, but I won't get into it here. So after dosing up, we go to my sister-in-law's house to hang for New Years but I just can't take any more. My wife is also showing the beginnings of sickness also, so we go home and hit the sack.
Great way to spend your holidays, deathly ill surrounded by a world of uncaring jerkoffs. So it is now Tuesday, and I'm feeling somewhat better today. I woke up and coughed up a bunch of black stuff out of my lungs. So the drugs seem to be working, especially the Vicodin. My wife is now deathly ill, and although she is fighting it, I think she will need to see a doctor too. She probably just doesn't want to go through the nostril/Q-tip torture like I had to. But she looks like shit now, and sounds like it too. I'm also going to try to get another day off of work, but I don't expect any sympathy there either, but it's worth a shot.
So that is how I've spent my time as of late. I hope you guys (whoever you may be!) had a better holiday than I did.
"Time for bed again, methinks..."
Meds kicking in now, and I'm all woozy again.
Please don't make me have to work tomorrow, please don't make me have to work tomorrow, please don't make me have to work tomorrow...
Have mercy on poor old GRAVEH!
Would ya...?

In the Outhouse with Uncle Graveh Again!!!

So this Christmas has gone shitty pretty quick due to recent events, not just one in particular, but a smattering of holiday "poo-ness" at every twist and turn. Today was a good one too. It involves me, the cruel gods, and the day I was supposed to have off tomorrow.
I bet you already know where this story is headed, don't you?
Well, basically some lady needed off work with some bogus, lame ass excuse about wanting a few extra days off so she could spend a little extra time with her grandkids. I've got shit to do too, you know...
Now the whole fiasco has sparked off a fierce debate on our whole written plans for what to do in case of needing to travel, like who has to travel and in what order. Basically a few have decided that their personal needs aren't being met before others, and want to start a coup. They will get what they think they want, a new plan of action, but...
Will it be filled with loopholes to get out of the job at hand?
I think not, I have three hours of drive time to think of how I'm gonna squash this new bug. That's right, tomorrow I will be getting up around 3:30 am, weeping of course, leaving at 4, to arrive by 5:30 am, in time to work my ass off until 2:45 pm, then spend another hour and a half driving home in thick traffic.
Fuck.
Life is not fair, but maybe I am being paid back for something a little less than honest I did a few months ago, at the expense of another coworker. I always felt bad about it too. Damn you Kharma!!!

Let's get with the love then. Where the hell is it? The thing that kills me is that I originally had the whole week off, but changed it to fit the down days where I work. At my boss's suggestion...
At least I have my own MP3 player now, and I plan on finishing loading that badboy up before the morn. Also a fatty or two may have to be rolled for both ways tripwise. I'm not worried about reeking of it, I have a system. Smoke it just right with the smoke exiting vehicle through thin cracked side window then possibly changing shirts with another spare in the trunk, if too paranoid. I also will smoke regular cigarettes out the yin-yang since I will be so frickin' sleepy. That will cover it even more. My eyes, you ask? Everybody who knows me, knows they are always red, and always have been too. I'm also clumsy and mumbly, so I pass without much notice.
If you are wondering about my Christmas exploits, they may or may not be reminisced about at a later date and post. I just haven't decided yet. I'm still lamenting my Chiefs most probably not making the playoffs...
It ain't over yet, but I'm needing a miracle here.

Not a Creature Was Stirring... (Not even a Drunkard!)

So after a weeklong hiatus where I had nothing within me to give, I find myself inspired by the likes of a simple film about football...
"A real tearjerker at its finest!!!"
Huh? I told you I had butter in my eye!!! But I did get a little misty a few times. This wasn't about the game though, this was about healing, and what it can take to get you there.
The Long Haul...
I had originally planned to go see Apocalypto, but when I mentioned it, my kids threw a fit. So we traded 138 minutes of boredom in the jungle for 127 minutes of me trying to "hold back the rain", so to speak. Well worth it though, I give it an A+ as far as sports movies go, and an A- overall. It had the customary cheese that is standard nowadays, and all the participants were the usual blemish free pretty people, but when you hear that chant...
WE ARE MARSHALL!!!
You feel it in your chest, if you have a heart at all, and it makes you feel for those who may have fallen recently. Those who won't see a Christmas this year, lives cut short by their own little tragedies (Russ). Learning that success in dealing with loss, and eventually coming to terms with it, although painful, can strengthen ties with those that are still with you. Those near and dear to your heart...
(LIke Jaypussy, HA!)
What else?
I have to be in Springfield tomorrow for the annual dinner and festivities with the parents. I will pig out as best as I can on Mom's fantastic feast, then hang out and watch kids open gifts. The wife is out taking care of the last minute gift getting and I am the lucky fool who will be wrapping presents like a madman late into the night.
"I hate you, Kris Kringle!!!
You make my life more difficult. Although I enjoy the light in my kids' eyes when they see what they got, I am bombarded with expectations, drunken "friends" looking for parties (and houses to destroy), and am left low in funds until the tax money comes in and saves the day. We have been better prepared in years of late, but this year I just don't seem to have it, that spark. It is cold as hell all the time, maybe due to my lack of blubber, yet we have no snow. I need something to make it feel like Christmas. So far it just feels like I'm freezing my balls off. I can't wait until New Years is over. I don't like to be around people drinking, but know they will be at every turn, hugging me... shaking my hand...
OVER AND OVER!!!
I'm not deeply into being touched, especially by inebriated fools who don't realize how foolish they really are. Luckily I work out and don't imbibe myself, so I rarely get fucked with. Those that do are sorry for it. It's not that I am unhappy with them because I myself want to drink again. No way, I'm done with that! I personally do not like the reminder of who I was when I drank or the stench. To see what they look like as they are trying to liven it all up for all those around them is pathetic. Stop already, no one even likes you...
"And you're not a very good breakdancer either!!!"
So give up alcohol this year if you wanna give me a present. Hell, call it a present to all of mankind if you want! Just leave me alone and keep your greasy, snot and vomit encrusted persons out of my personal territorial bubble. It is all that I ask. You know who you are...
Nuff said.
My son sold over $400 dollars worth of shitty merchandise for his choir's hokey fundraising efforts that you have to participate in if you want a good grade in the class. Unbelievably, yesterday he had won a bunch of prizes for his outstanding work, all the major ones. He got $35, and iPod Nano, and some iPod pillow thingie that plays your music through (that's right you guessed it!) a pillow that you sleep on! This means I also get his old MP3 player and my daughter doesn't have to keep letting me borrow hers to go workout to. So fucking sweet! I take back at least half of what I said about those soul soliciting pigfuckers at school and on the PTA. If you don't participate, you are obliged to give a donation out of your own pocket. This is if you want a decent grade. What the fuck?!?!?!?
I'm proud of him, he deserves it, and he's a good kid. And he got out there and sold shit I never thought could be sold to anyone in their right mind. And yes, now I don't have to buy him an iPod Nano...
"Or have to hear about them all the time!"
Blessed silence once again reigns supreme...
Thus the title...
Fin.

My Ass is Dragon, Mr. Eragon...

I saw a movie tonight. One of those that sneaks up on you and somehow, against all odds, and possibly even your better judgement, makes you go, "Wow, that was an enjoyable little ride. This was most definitely a thrill ride for kids of all ages, I used to play Advanced Dungeons & Dragons back in the day, mostly in the world of the Forgotten Realms. And a little Dark Sun in there. And Ravenloft a couple of times...
So this was damn good. Yes, it was a little Star Wars-ish or even Faintly wafting of Lorf of the Rings-ness (movie critics be damned!!!), but I think it held up pretty well. The computer induced special effects were pretty smooth instead of distracting, and the bad guys and swordplay were way better than the PG rating left me to believe. If this is a trilogy, I'm sold already, just keep it like it is, maybe bump it up to PG-13 next time...
Solid B+. Those first person flying on the back of a dragon scenes were breathtaking. Dizzying too at times. They cranked this baby up too, all the whoooooooshes! and dull THUDS! you could feel deep, deep down. I like it when they do that. I'm practically fucking deaf due to iPod usage.
Also, Lamar Hunt died. He was the owner of the Kansas City Chiefs and many other things, including most influencing dood in NFL football. He even came up with the name SUPERBOWL, helped blacks, and other minorities, gain a stronger foothold in this wonderful sport, and was just an all around great guy with a nose for business and adventure. He cofounded the Chicago Bulls and had a hand in many other sports. He will be sorely missed. What a way for my team to finish strong, barely make it into the playoffs and...
"Take a breath"
Work their way through all the teams in a Rocky-like fashion and win won for Lamar. He had wanted a Thansgiving game in K.C. for decades, and when he got one, he ended up in the hospital the night before the game. He deserves this, guys.
We deserve this!
Let's bring the RING back home, boys...

En Garde, Honkie!!!

I figured out how to keep unwanted lips off your food at work, I don't eat anything anyone else likes. I can remember a day when all I had to eat was a package of those orange colored peanut butter crackers.
"And some motherfucker ate em!!!"
Not cool...
I starved that day, thanks to some heartless bastard. But this is no longer a problem for me. I work with a bunch of country, well fed peoples now. My lunch today consisted of:
1 Banana, still kinda green
1 Apple, green and a bit tarty
1 can Southwest Chicken Vegetable soup
1 can Sardines
1 Yogurt, blueberry
If my lunchbox had Cheezits, or any kind of pastry thing filled or unfilled, or anything edible by the non-healthy-conscious kind, it'd be pilfered regularly. But I often like to bring whole fish to work and watch them squirm. That's right, head and all. Still the same fish, tastes good too. No one touches my lunch now. This actually works better than the plan I tried last time, where I brought most of my food from the Asian market.
Yes, delicious bamboo caterpillars, fried to shoestring potato perfection! I tried the crickets, but they weren't as good. They also had an interesting assortment of canned fishes of many flavors, many most kick ass as I have tried them and felt pleasure in eating them. Yea. Amen.
It is bedtime, and although I really didn't have a set purpose for coming here, I feel better already. It is nice to wing it just this once.
"Ok ok, who am I kidding here?"
Like the Greatest American Hero...
On a wing and a prayer, baby...

Go and Elf Yo-Self!!!

Sweeet. I still haven't seen Apocalypto yet, but I've at least bought a tree and have it inside on the stand. I have to buy some of that snow in a spray can before I can put the ornaments and sparkly jibba jabba on it. I also cleaned out all the gutters on the roof, and raked clean about a fourth of the front yard. Tomorrow will be a more prosperous day, except from about noon to 3:30.
"Chiefs, baby!!!"
I hate when I have no comments on my blog. I occasionally leaf through other's blogs to see what up and am shocked to see that the lame shit they go on about gets commented and commented upon like it's nothing short of R-tard brilliance.
So don't be shy...
Comment!!!
Or you can go elf yo-self.

Apocalypto Skipped Oh!!!

We were all set to see this, or at least I was, with twenty minutes to get out the door. I scurried my way towards the living room and found everybody laying around like there was a carbon monoxide leak, or had just finished a bountiful Thanksgiving dinner. I realized that I was hurrying for no reason so I gave up. I didn't even want to see the stupid movie anyway! But I'd already created this Mad Mel picture for your viewing enjoyment. We may still see this movie this weekend so a review might be forthcoming at a later date and time. Nice way to drag out that sentence. I work for the Guv'ment, I'm a pro...
So what's doing with me then? Not much, I've been sitting in front of a screen wondering why-for do I do this. Haven't made much headway into it either. It's possible I may be retarded or something.
I have watched most of Empire of the Sun recently, in parts at bedtime. What a great late night toke up and kick back flick to partaketh of. All I can say is wow. I may buy this if it's supercheap and start the Christian Bale collection from the start. I'm waiting for The Prestige and The Illusionist to come out on DVD so I can watch them in bed too, or on the bigscreen whilst laying around the couch. I'm pretty versatile in that capacity.
I feel like I'm sitting here waiting to be inspired or something but it's long overdue. The only thing I've felt like doing is sitting around in my long johns and listening to George Michael and Wham. I know what you're saying. Things must be going pretty damn good, right?
"Stir Crazy..."
I was wondering when they'd pipe in.
Did you now...?
It's cold here all the time now and I haven't even started putting up Christmas lights or the tree yet. Looks like my dance card is going to be full all weekend having Xmas tree rash on my forearms from lugging that shit out in the cheek chilling Arctic wind that seems to find its way down your jacket's neckhole and back up into your poopshoot. I'm really beginning to hate the holidays for anything other than overtime pay. I'm never prepared and poorly motivated. Thus I lament...
I'm tired, but will be quite busy all weekend. Maybe I can get a little narcolepto at Apocalypto and catch 138 minutes of ZZZ's under the guise of intense concentration at the subtitles occupying the bottom of the screen.
"No one will be the wiser..."
I'm going to retire now to youtube and possibly live/leak as well. I'm bushed, browbeaten, vaklempt, plumb tuckered...
Spent even!
Onward through my dreams, like sheeps to the slaughter...

Don't It Make My Brown Eye Blue?

I hate the Cleveland Browns. Why didn't they just lay down and die like they were supposed to? A win in overtime hurt so much more, especially when we got the coin toss. We really needed that win too. Looks like Denver is gonna be a game up on us again. But this game wasn't without it's usual skullduggery...

This is for you, Mr. Referee. He was out of bounds before the clock ran out. What happened to automatic instant replay in the last two minutes?!?!?!? So, robbed of the possible game winning kick or Hail Mary, not to mention the numerous uncalled holds and pass interference snafus, we finally caved in at the end, 31-28.
Any fucking given Sunday, I'm told. You don't lose to the Browns, you tear that ass up! Time to figure out where we went wrong here, and fix it with only four games left. We must get in the playoffs, the only teams that seem to beat us don't make it into the playoffs. We hang with the big dogs better, and the shitty ones sneak up and flick us right on our gosh durned taints!
Sorry for the language, folks. I'm still dealing with shock and disbelief here...

Derrick Thomas, a Chief Among Men...

A charitable man, not a bad bone in his body, except when he was on the field. I still miss him...
Going to see The Pick of Destiny tonight, hope it doesn't suck.
I've got my fingers cra-w-w-w-w-w-w-ssed, Freddy?
Cra-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w...
St!

The Tablefart of Spiteful Spirituality...

You know what happens when you push someone away? They seeth, they rasp, they shake their fists at the sky!
"Sometimes they even roil and occasionally gnash their teeth!!!"
Then comes the dejection...

You wonder why. And where. And just the fuck when. Slipping, so slow you don't even notice it.
"Until too late?"
Take it away and you no longer hold sway. Plots and schemes will take form and refuse to be held at bay. There's no other way, I'm afraid to say...

So here I am just hangin' around, swinging aimlessly, telling you a cryptic story/ life lesson. Yet I can't tell you how it all turns out, as I haven't gotten there yet. All I can say is...
"Fight the powers that be!!!"
And prudence be damned!!!
Get with the program people. I can't do this by myself anymore...
I feel like I've been kicked away from the table for farting.
"Ever been there...?"

Scrapin' the Bottom of the Barrel...

So it's 12:30 in the am and I'm extremely baked and bored, near bedtime. Listening to more parts of the complete Erasure discography (Other People's Songs at the moment), being piece fed to me daily. Which is fine with me, I get to get acquainted again with fantastic music day to day, hour to hour, all that jazz...
"Or should I say POP?"

I guess I could rip on Kramer, but look at the poor guy. Practically bending over backwards to apologize over flipping out on some real winners who were harrassing him first. I also heard them shouting racial slurs at him as well.
Cracker Ass!!!
Look, I'm not saying what he did and said was right. But geez, if you actually spent money to go see Kramer do his famous catchphrases and do the popping noise with his mouth while he does the headjerk and freaks out, and you want him to lay some heavy George Carlin shit on you, then you are a fucking moron. And you should leave without a refund, chalking this one up to an experience learned from. Simple as that. It's like going to see Carrot Top, though I don't know why you would, and bitching that he uses too many props and is extremely annoying.
So hate Kramer/ Michael Richards all you want. He is an oddball, but I loved him in UHF as Stanley Spadowski with his trusty mop. Or anything I've ever seen him in. He's actually the only thing I've ever found funny about Seinfeld.
"The Junior Mints episode!"
That's a good one. I saw his Letterman apology and he looks like a pretty whack dood, yo. By the way...
THIS ONE GOES OUT TO THE MEDIA:
If he is so washed up and has beened, why is he such big news then, you sick fucks? Shouldn't you be moved on to the next Pamela Anderson divorce? I enjoyed seeing him flake out onstage. Will he be as unforgiven as Mel?
"The tequila scarfing Joo hater?"
The voices are crowding in tonight, signing that it is time for blissful slumber. I will have to be up in four hours...

Free Chili Monday...

My favorite day, of course, because that can mean only one thing.
"And one thing only!!!"
THE CHIEFS BEAT THE BRONCOS!!!
Look at the stats in the above picture and you will see. Larry Johnson put his Johnson all up in Denver tonight.
And at home too! That's what made it sting a little more for Broncos fans. They will be grumbling about it for the next few days, I'm sure. You know, how the refs were one sided. Not actually true in this one, they (the refs) took away an interception by Pat Surtain that might've closed the door earlier. Instead they kept giving them a chance to get back in it. Then the coach and Jake the Snake got into it on the sidelines again, and Jake wasn't quite the same after. I heard them say he'd been warned he was going to lose his spot as top dog if he didn't put out this time. I'm glad they put him in such a good position to fail like that, and that the Chiefs are not as dimwitted as to curse a guy's luck and jinx him like that.
So that was a sweet Thanksgiving finale! I went to my parents and hung out with my sisters and smoked up behind Dad's woodpile. I thought he caught me once, but if he did, he said nothing. I then gorged out on turkey, taters, dressing, and all the trimmings that came with. But no dessert. I never did like sweets. Then long ride back with WHAM! as a soundtrack whilst I yell profanities at old or handicapped people slowing up my peacefully serene trip home.
So here I am then, basking in K.C.'s glory, and turn of luck, they are now tied for second in the division with a fast fading Denver, and only San Diego in their sights. A few more wins should clinch at least a wild card maybe. But I always root for them to finish strong and take it all. Please be that year!
Please!!!

Top O' the World, Ma!!!

Larry Johnson once again never ceases to amaze me. 154 yards and two touchdowns, one of them being the go ahead, game winning, smack em in the mouth and ram it down their throat... uh... winning touchdown? They topped it off with a scary interception in the end zone to end it all. I wish they wouldn't do that though, my dinner plans were hanging in the balance. If they'd have blown it, I'd be eating in. Now I'm gonna go get my ribs on. Stuff a whole bunch of salad on top of that, and I'm a happy guy...
"Until Thursday, at least..."
Hey, but this gave them the juice to continue on with only four days until they meet the Broncos.
At home!
We will have our vengeance. Oh yes, we will...
I'm stoked right now, nothing could ruin it.
^^^^^^^^^After Dinner Edit^^^^^^^^^
Or could it? Against my pleadings to go to Olive Garden, we headed to Golden Corral. I hate buffets. Not because of the food necessarily, but from the inbred, mannerless ilk that contaminate the vittles with cruddy abandon. I started off with a heaping plate of salad, with all the healthy trimmings to boot. I then proceeded to jam as much steak into my gullet as I could. It was super raw, but I was in the mood for it, and Heinz 57 sauce will kill anything still crawling around on it. That's what I tell myself at least.
"We'll see in a couple of hours..."
I eat pretty healthy still, but need a little extra meat as I seem to be having trouble bulking up as fast as I'd like. I'm just trying to keep as lowfat as I can. I'm really starting to get those sweet stomach muscles that go all the way down, but that's alot of stomach crunches and I dropped the pin down to the next slot on the machine at the gym. After I get my hair cut short, finish up this roll of film, and develop it, I will post some before and after pics. I'm probably still going to be hideous to behold, but having a form to be proud of after too long in the chow line is great as an ego boost. When I was 235 pounds, people called me sir and payed me no never mind. I was the fat guy. Now I am the slim and trim guy. I want to be the hulking behemoth, so I'm going to try taking creatine along with my protein shakes. I feel like I've hit a wall as far as muscle growth is concerned and I really want to see some results that will make me want to push harder. I'm not there at the gym to ogle the ladies, I want results. I feel good when I work out, it is my meditation. When I stop taking care of myself, I feel like crap, you really start getting addicted to feeling great. Sexual urges get much stronger, and you are able to put your money where your mouth is. Walk the walk. Who wouldn't want that?
I don't have a big head, by the way, but I like to pump myself up and stay on top of it all. I really am truly ugleh, it just can't be helped. Strangely, that picture I posted not long back looks nothing like me, the remnants of loose flesh make me look like I have more chins than a Chinese phonebook. My hair isn't even that color. And soon it will be short and spiky, ala Simon LeBon during the Arcadia days.
I love gel...

Treacherously Harsh Kharmic Times!!!

Blogger I hate you for erasing my original post.
Now that... uhh that is out of the way...
I went to see Harsh Times, an awesomely riveting movie with Christian Bale, a couple Latin hotties, and Terry Crew.
"The black, bodybuilding Charlie Brown?"
Yeah, that's the guy. And the bud is toked all the way through practically to the end. What chaos ensues when a mind torn by the war on terror puts more on his plate than he can handle. Kharma makes an appearance early on. What, you didn't expect it to have a happy ending did you? The things that do come back to bite you in the ass in the end. I give this undoubtedly overlooked masterpiece a solid A. Most of the tools in line were seeing Borat or...
A new blond Bond!
Blessed peace to watch a great movie. Eva Longoria is totally tits, but that Tammy Trull is even better as his "treacherous" south of the border sweety.

Which brings me to Christian Bale. That guy is popping out movies like there is no tomorrow, as fast becoming a fave for the new millenium. No one does brooding, psychotically articulate madman such as he. Somebody get this guy an award!
I just didn't get the whole tormented by the war, having flashbacks, cold sweats and the like. I don't fancy killing anyone, but if I had to be there, I'm damn sure gonna spray wayward bullets at anyone trying to cut my time short on this godforsaken shithole. War sucks, but I could take as many enemies out as I could, if my pants aren't choked with poo, and sleep like a baby when I get back to safer shores. This includes anyone pointing weapons at me: women, children, old men. If I make it back, I win. Not that I wanna go.
"I'm just sayin'..."
This is why you bomb the enemy until there is nothing left and sift through the rubble. War is hell...
(Especially in the mind.)
Ain't it?

So Red the Rose?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^SO RED THE ROSE^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Can anyone spot the irony here?
(The post title and the accompanying picture...)
The answer will be on the next post at the end, so stay tuned kiddies for that extrava-bonanza-ganza!
"Hint, please?"
Arcadia...John Taylor...
In other news, I am sitting here getting a little glassy eyed, and looking through what is coming out tomorrow in the theaters via the web. Very depressing, the best out of the lot was some retarded prison comedy. I'm sure it's chocked full of scenes of black guys trading smokes for white boys' cornholes. Not interested in that shit personally, but that does raise another query with which I will set up the background info on first. Our town and neighboring Fayetteville have adopted the ban on smoking in any public establishment. I even have to go outside to smoke at Zabana's Latin Club. What a crock of shit, I am eyed by non smoking rule enforcers wherever I am, even in a designated place, as if I were the criminal!
Thus the segway...
In jail, not only do they smoke inside (at least in the movies!!!), they use it like currency and/or to indebt some poor slob into sexual servitude. Those fuckers get to puff away indiscriminately and without hassle, whilst I lurk in the shadows taking a drag menacingly, whilst scheming my dastardly plans of all your deaths by second hand smoke, and whilst some environment loving fake hippie douche lectures me on my thoughtlessness due, I'm sure, to the fact that I've been brainwashed by the evil Republicans running our government.
"How's that for a senseless rant?"
Woopty doo, what does it all mean, Basil? It means I'm gonna go see Harsh Times tomorrow instead of the lukewarm prison poo-fest. These days it seems you can't go wrong with Christian Bale, he's a hot actor on the up and coming, if'n you catch my drift. The Prestige, The Machinist, Batman, uhhh, and a few other ones that escape a tired, overworked, and underfed mind such as mine.
By the way, I've been sick most of the week. I'm getting better but seem to be sprouting a pimple inside my nose that hurts like the dickens.
Boy howdy does life try to kick you in the balls when you are already down, doesn't it? I haven't had a nose pimple in years, yet it rears its ugly whitehead just in time for festive holiday snapshots.
I will be the one, once again lurking...
Behind the turkey leg!!!
"Turkey lurkin'?"
And fin.

Wham Bam, George Michael Is Da Man!!!

I saw a video of him puffin' the cheeba on youtube in an interview. The reporter covering the story was acting horrified at the thought of someone, God forbid, smoking on the drugs. Pot isn't even a drug, as far as I'm concerned. It's grown naturally, not twisted and perverted in makeshift labs on the sly. Just in fields, backyards, and closets...
On the sly!!!"
Everything he said in his defense of the wunderplant was true. It just might have looked better if he hadn't been giggling the whole time....
Anybody like Wham?
Anybody...?
Somebody had to have liked them, they sold a shitload of albums.
Come out of the closet, you flaming Wham freaks!!!

The Adventures of Superhottie!!!

Yes, friends and neighbors, it's that time again. The last time we met up, Superhottie was saying goodbye to some old grudges. I thought we'd seen the last of our daring heroine in all her chest heaving distressed-ness.
"But no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
Under cover of disguise, she makes her triumphant return to battle the forces of evil, also disguised, but as a white trash tow truck driver. Go figure.
What is next on her to do list then? Yet another Scooby Doo sequel? Find a nice to charity to grace her face with as the spokeswoman? It's all up in the air at this point, we'll just have to tune in tomorrow kids.
And buckle up...
"It's gonna be a bumpy ride!!!"
The Return: F-
It was that bad. Don't see this unless you are 10-12 year old girl with the IQ of a half melted slushie. I didn't expect it to be any good but sheesh, someone should declare SHENANIGANS on the guy who put that trailer together.
Booooooooo.

What's MISShappenin' with Mesus?

It's finally time to come down off my cross. I've martyred myself long enough. It's time to come back...
"Back with a vengeance?"
Chuck Norris style, my friend!
Realizations, realizations. What can you do? Go on, and hope. Dare to dream even?
I know it's never so bad. I just go off the deep end sometimes in my thoughts. I may dig deeper into my resolve, or continue to work out hard and punish the demons in my head until they are gone once again. Change is due in my life though.
"Pain is a great motivator..."
Yeah yeah yeah, misery is optional. I've never bought into that bullshit. I will McGuyver the shit out of this thing called life and once again hold it by the balls.
There can be only ONE!
I said McGuyver, not MacLeod...
(The Highlander, for those of you don't know it...)

To Never Have Been...

I can't sleep. When I close my eyes, my mind starts to rattle and shake. Worse now than before, screaming...
I can't take this, I want it to all end. Or to just have never been. That would be better.
No remembrance of tears spilled long ago, from wells long gone dry. No fifth grade yearnings, after the fact, on the long journey home. No disappointment. No more pain. Or wishing. Or dreaming.
Or pretending...
I hate life, and I have this, I don't know what you'd call it, feeling in my chest. Sinking... plummeting. It's starting to not go away again.

I watched most of Punchdrunk Love a little while ago, but just couldn't take anymore. I love this movie, and when he is running down the hallways looking for a promised kiss, I am catapulted back into my own memories. Yet they are not as blissful as his. Mine are filled with all the things that have gone wrong, horribly, in my quest for whatever the fuck it is I'm having such a hard time finding. What is it? Am I crazy? Will I find it?
Will I want it after I know all the bullshit involved in the process?

This place is hell. I am lost and believe there is no way back for me now. How could there be? That incarnation of me is dead... gone forever. I really liked him too, he was a nice guy. He liked the outdoors. Hiking. Looking at the sky in amazement.
Now the sky only sees my clenched fist.
"Someone release me!" he demands.
Always met with silence...

I Know It's True, But I'm Sorry To Say...

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
Yesterday's a day away.
Nothing I can do to make it stay like that.
Ain't that a fact.

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
I just can't handle things this way.
I know it's late, but I'd like to stay a while, see you smile.

Will you meet me in the morning, with the sun fresh on the dew?
Will you meet me in the afternoon, made just for me and you?
Will you meet me in the evening, when the nighttime starts to crawl?
Will you meet me in the hall?
Will you meet me on the wall?
Will you meet me at all?

One more time, one more time.
Shaking up and down my spine.
Jump a rope or skip a line or two.
What can I do?

One more time, one more time.
Color flashing neon signs.
Advertising a friend of my distraction, latest attraction.

Oh my body has been punished.
Lord, I think I've had enough.
Oh my body has been punished
With too much and not enough.
Oh my body has been punished
And my mind can no longer bluff.
My mind is so unkind, my mind is so unkind.
It keeps me crying all the time.

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
Yesterdays a day away.

What I wouldn't give to hear this song right now.
My mind can no longer bluff...
Do ya feel me Clyde, do ya... feel me?

Satan Heart's Camel Toe!!!

How to effectively tighten the Bible belt over Satan's bulge?
"Can it be done?!?"
You know, the ones who keep that all sexual frustration pent up in their jeans are the ones that flip out in the end. Look at the BTK killer, deep into the church when he decided to resurface. Masturbated over the dead bodies of children he murdered.
Great guy, to his fellow congregation...
Jim Jones, anyone?

So here's this guy trying to save our souls, apparently even been doing it for awhile. Here's where the problem lies:
NO ONE BELIEVES HIM.
http://stopgclub10.blogspot.com/
He declines to drop the facade of anonymity, causing many to question his motives. The press have also dropped his cause. I personally do not care, he's not gonna stop titties from flowing freely like wine.
I have, however, had the pleasure of reading several blogsites devoted to hating his lilly livered, Tom Petty album filching(almost!) guts.
http://mrfamilyfunnies.blogspot.com/
http://gogclub10.blogspot.com/
Two places I've found that put this ass clown into the proper perspective and shed light on the intricacies of his most high foolishness. I know I came into this late, but I'm always curious to see how things play themselves out. Will he be outed as a rival owner, out for revenge? Will he be found hanging by the neck in his closet due to the shame and humiliation of having to KNOW there's titties being shook around somewhere, in town, for money?
"Oh... my... gawd! What if he's right?"
Hell's naw!!!
It's an interesting read for me anyway, been going on awhile. Club still open, the masses are free to see floppies afloppin' and camel toes apoppin'!
Horny, good natured guys will get to continue to slap complete strangers on the back and buy them a beer while hooting recklessly to the gods.
"I pressed her thigh... and death smiled."
YEEEEEEE-HAW!