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Archive for June, 2007

no one reads blogs on the weekends

Or do they?

I had this long Fourth of July related story lined up for today but I’ll save it for during the week.

Instead, here’s a treat for you.

Because I woke up with this song in my head at 5am, I think you all should share in my misery.

At least it wasn’t Final Countdown.

Enjoy your weekend.

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funny

EEcards. Cards for every occasion.

This has not been a paid advertisement. There’s just some really funny shit there.

Found at Reality Remixed.

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it’s finally fuck off friday!

I couldn’t wait to get home from work today and read through the Friday Fuck Off Thread.

I have some of my own. Naturally.

I would like this whole week to fuck right off.
I would like to say a hearty FUCK YOU to the department of motor vehicles.
Fuck you to hot, humid, rainy, unpredictable weather.
Fuck off to people who don’t do their job right, then expect you to correct their mistakes, even though they get paid a trillion dollars an hour to do what they do, and you get paid a pittance to sit there and redo everything they did wrong.
Fuck off to people who expect to be catered to for no other reason than they have a bloated self esteem.
Fuck you to people who exist with chips on their shoulders and take it out on the entire world by living their lives with a snarl on their face and a mean comment at the ready.
A BIG FUCK YOU to people who let their kids scream in public places. I mean, really really scream. Temper tantrum scream. Not a pain scream, not a hunger scream, not a fright scream, but a “I WANT THIS AND I WANT IT NOW AND IF YOU DON’T GIVE IT TO ME I’M GOING TO ANNOY THE FUCK OUT OF YOU” scream. Letting your kid “cry it out” is great in principle, but not when you are in earshot of about 60 innocent bystanders.
Fuck you to people who start shooting of firecrackers (especially M80’s) two weeks before the Fourth of July. Every night. All night. Even at 1am. Those things don’t even make pretty colors. They just go BANG. What the HELL is the point, man? If you’re gonna keep me up all night with your sis boom bah, at least make it worth looking at.
Fuck you nicotine.

That is all. You may carry on now.

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if only that were coffee instead of bloody rain

We had a flash flood last night, which I have chosen to make more exciting by turning into a river of blood.

Because, really. A story about how the rains came down hard and fast and the drywell couldn’t drain the water fast enough and it all backed up outside, which caused it to flow under the door and into our computer room, and we had to mop it all up with towels and get everything to higher ground just isn’t all that fascinating. And it would elicit a ton of responses like “you call that a flood? Why, where I come from, that’s what we call a summer swim! You want to see a flood? Let me tell you about The Great Soaking of 78! 14 of our cows drowned that day….”

A river of blood washing over your street is much more interesting.

However, I am out of coffee this morning. Talk about disasters. I need FEMA in here, STAT. What does no coffee mean for you? It means I can’t come up with a decent story about how that river of blood got there. And it means I have to leave for work a bit early so I can stop at Dunkin Donuts and have them stick me with an IV of caffeine.

Well damn, I don’t have a list ready for today. Guess I’ll have to post one tonight. Got any good list ideas?

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Sometimes, the lists just write themselves. Or, someone writes a list so absurd, you just have to show it to everyone.

Presenting, The Ten Compliments That Wow A Man, from Men’s Health magazine. I’m not going to bother with his laughable explanations. Just my answers to him. Click the link if you want to read his drivel.

“Your arms are definitely looking bigger.”
Thanks. I’ve been eating a lot of cheetos lately. Really. What if the guy has NOT been working out? What if he weights 350 lbs? Would you want someone to remark on your arm flab? I think not. Plus, if he’s been taking steroids on the side, you might want to be careful what you say to him. Too soon for a Christ Benoit joke?

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”
Girls. This is not the thing to say when he unzips his pants. And to be honest, most men can tell when your laugh is patronizing. If it’s not funny, don’t laugh. Giving a short burst of “hahahs” will crush his ego worse than a blank stare will. Especially if you do that stupid knee-slap thing. Nothing says “I’m pretending to find you funny in order to build up your fragile ego” more.

“Wow.”
While you may think this is the thing to say when he unzips his pants, most guys will be instantly filled with self doubt, as they won’t know if it’s a “holy shit, that can’t fit inside me” or a “is that it?” kind of wow.

“You the man.”
I’m not a guy, but I can be pretty sure that if I was, the last thing I’d want my girl to say to me is “You the man.” The only person who says that is a fat guy who’s holding a Pabst Blue Ribbon in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other. And he points at you when he says it and the Doritos go flying everywhere and there’s usually spittle involved and a drunken stumble as he tries to high five you. Not something you want your chick saying to you, unless your idea of foreplay is a friendly punch on the shoulder.

“The kids just adore you.”
If the kids in question are his kids, then he probably knows this already and you sitting down next to him on the couch and saying this smacks of a really insecure woman who really means to say “is everything ok? am i good enough for you? are you happy? if i stroke your ego a lot will you stop threatening to leave me? please?” Besides, if the kids adore him, let them tell him. That’s what macaroni art is for.

If the kids in question are yours, but not his, you’re probably lying or he doesn’t care, so why bother?

If the kids in question are neither yours nor his, look out for a visit from Dateline NBC.

“What do you think?”
Jesus H. Christ. Every woman worth her weight knows to never say this to a man. Because a man knows that a woman doesn’t really give a fuck what he thinks. This sentence is just a prelude to the woman either manipulating the conversation so what she thinks ends up being what the man thinks, or is a passive aggressive tactic so the woman can end up crying herself to sleep at night when the man says “What do I think? I think those jeans make you look fat.”

“Cute feet.”
What the fuck? Cute feet? Come on guys, tell me. Please. Would any of you be “wowed” by this statement? Or would you just tell your girl that her fetish is adorable and she can find all kinds of feet related sex sites online?

“Meow.”
Furries are the lowest form of life next to people who write love poems in Klingon.

“Impressive.”
Sure, if he’s doing pushups with his dick. Otherwise, it’s just condescending.

“I want you.”
That’s not so much a compliment as a sign that you are not putting out enough, guy. A girl only says that when she wants to remind you that it’s been about a week since you put down those god damn power tools and the renovations on the house are coming along great, but damn, do I have to dress up as Bob Villa to get you to open up my power box?

Did I just say that out loud?

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Was up most of the night staring at the lightning, listening to the rain and hacking up part of my lung. I forgot about that lovely benefit of giving up cigarettes – coughing up chunks of lung butter.

The lightning was pretty cool. Ok, it was a little scary. I’m a wuss like that. But I can’t be the only one who gets a little nervous when streams of lightning are actually hitting the ground just a few blocks away and it makes a cracking noise like the world is splitting open and it suddenly feels like daylight at midnight?

Maybe I’m just naturally afraid. Of everything. We were talking last night about my fear of lightning, which led to a conversation about my fear of the dark. Todd, putting on his psychologist cap (just one of about 150 caps he owns), was wondering how a person like me, who absolutely loves horror movies, can be so afraid of the dark. Of course, he answered his own question with a ten page thesis on the sublimation of fear through the use of scary films and the overcompensation of my fear of scary, creepy evil things that happen in life by obsessing about movies in which scary, creepy, evil things happen.

Maybe, I answered, I just like them for the entertainment value. Maybe I just enjoy watching ghosts and goblins and ax wielding madmen and blood and severed limbs and the living dead and murderous mayhem.

Maybe I just like being scared by things that are fake. The small thrill I get when a movie manages to frighten me or make me jump out of my seat is entertaining because it’s not real. There’s no ghosts in my bedroom, no zombies in my garage, no floating, headless spirit stalking me in my hallway.

Or is there?

No. I’m not really afraid of ghosts. I’m afraid of real things. Being robbed in the middle of the night by home invaders. Lightning. Floods. Earthquakes. Drunk drivers. Kidnappers. Fallen wires. Heights. Depths. Open spaces. Closed spaces. Bees. Driving next to those rigs that carry about 40 cars on them. Walking over open grates.

I have a lot of irrational fears. But you know what you don’t see on that list? Deranged men with chainsaws. Psychotic neighbors in hockey masks. Werewolves. Trolls. Vampires. You know why? Because rather than horror movies overcompensating for my fears, they have taught me how to conquer my fears. For instance, when I was younger I had a fear of leprechauns, but watching several of the Leprechaun movies not only got me over that fear, but helped me learn valuable lessons about how to deal with the little fellas. I also learned at a young age what I should do if one of my best friends suddenly started puking up pea soup and masturbating with a crucifix. Back then, I would have run for the nearest priest. If it happened today, I would be running for a video camera so I could put my friend’s possession up on youtube.

Which leads me to today’s list. Because I’ve made the commitment to myself to post a list a day. Why? No idea. Maybe I’m overcompensating for a subconscious fear of things being out of order. I’ll ask Todd about that when he puts the psychologist cap back on.

Anyhow, today’s list. Well, I was going to make a list of the worst horror movie sequels ever, but that always leads me to thinking about Troll 2, which leads me into a rant about it being THE WORST HORROR MOVIE SEQUEL EVER. Worse than the Ring 2. Worse than any Halloween sequel. So you get a rant instead of a list, but you can always feel free to make your own list of worst horror movie sequels in the comments.

Picking Troll 2 as the worst sequel is admitting that I kind of liked the first. Well, I did. It was campy and cheesy and poorly written, but it had such appeal. June Lockhart. Julia Louis Dreyfus. Sony Bono! It was a fun movie, the kind you wind down with on Halloween night after watching a bunch of movies that would have you sleeping with the lights on. But this sequel? It doesn’t even have trolls. Troll 2. No trolls.

You know pretty quick into this movie that things are going to be bad. There’s this moronic, semi-retarded family and they are going to vacation in a town called Nilbog.

The town. Nilbog. NILBOG.

t2-nilbog.jpgJust in case you don’t get it, due to the subtle brilliance of whoever thought that up, the father of this insipid family says to someone on the phone: “Nilbog…You spell it N-I-L-B-O-G.”

Like I said. Semi retarded.

So, we’ve got a troll movie with goblins and no trolls and no discernible connection to the first film. And not even a single B list celebrity to make fun of. And no plot. None at all. Just some random happenings that are supposed to make sense but leave you wondering if you went into a stupidity coma and missed part of the movie.

But what we do have is urination! After the ghost of Josh’s grandpa tells him the food the family is about to eat will turn them into goblin food, Josh takes matters into his own hands. Literally. He whips out his dick and pisses on dinner. Oh yea. That went over big at the family table. I mean, I’ve seen this happen before but I usually just have to say something like, “No grandpa. Pull your pants back up, grandpa. You are not in the urinal at Yankee Stadium.” Josh’s dad isn’t so patient. He gets pissed, so to speak, and shows Josh a letter from the owners of the house they are renting. And says the cheesiest line ever recorded in film history:

Do you know what it means? Hospitality! And you can’t piss on hospitality! I won’t allow it!”

I remember seeing this for the first time. I just sort of stared. Blinked. Questioned myself. Ok, Michele, you haven’t done drugs in a long time. You haven’t been drinking. I think he really just said that.

And that’s pretty much how the whole movie goes. You sit there wondering if all the acid you did back in the day is playing havoc with your mind because there is no way this dialogue could really be happening.

“They’re eating my mommy!”
“Would you like some, Josshhh-uuuuuu-aaaaaa?”

Oh god. Just eat him already. Please, for the love of god, eat the whole fucking stupid family because they really don’t deserve to be alive. I was rooting for the goblins. I wanted them to take over the house, the town and the birthplace of whereverthehell the director of this movie was from. Somewhere in Italy. I wanted to go back in time and keep this guy from ever being born. I mean, this giu makes Uwe Boll look like Martin Scorcese.

This movie just should not exist. Yet, I watched the whole thing. More than once. I’ve studied it. I’ve re examined it. And yet I cannot fathom how something like this ends up playing in your local movie theater on a Saturday afternoon. troll2a.jpgYou know those magnetic poetry things? There must be something out there called Magnetic Cliche Characters. Whoever wrote this movie just picked out some magnets, threw them against the fridge and made characters built solely on the cliches that stuck. And then he went into a bumfuck town and said something like “eight bucks and a candy bar to anyone who wants to act in my movie!” A few Snickers bars and a credit card transaction later and Troll 2 was rolling.

I don’t know what else to say about this movie. It’s not even bad in a Plan 9 From Outer Space way. It’s beyond that. But. You have to see it. Yes, it’s horrible on every single level. But you need to witness the outright horridness of it all. You need to see all the mistakes and continuity problems and make-up disasters. You need to see this just so you can know that bad exists on levels you never dreamed of. Beyond Baby Geniuses or Leonard Part 6 or even Kazaam, which I thought was the worst movie in existence until I laid my eyes on the green jello goblins of Troll 2.

Oh yea. Josh defeats the goblins. With bologna sandwiches.

Bologna. Fucking. Sandwiches.

Yep, I just gave you spoilers without a warning. Please. If you’ve got an IQ above “Paris Hilton” you will know everything that’s gonna happen about twenty minutes before the characters in the movie do. Or, if you’re lucky, your brain will shut itself down about five minutes into the film and the bologna sandwiches won’t even matter.

Oh, toward the end of the movie, the piss-happy Joshua finally gets it.

Nilbog! It’s goblin spelled backwards! This is their kingdom!

Ya think?

Now I have no list for today. I’ll have to come up with one for tonight.

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it’s getting hot in here

Really bad camera phone pic of the temperature thing in my car.

Hey, it’s time for another list!!!

Seasons I hate:

1. summer
2. summer
3. summer
4. summer
5. summer in new york

Weather I hate:

1. hot
2. humid
3. muggy
4. summer in new york
5. did i mention hot?

Just wanted to get that out of the way, so my complaining for the season is done in one shot. You may refer back to this list when the temperature reaches above 85 in New York.

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