After reading Chris’ “Movies for the kids” list on the Nerduary, I decided to go back and watch Ghostbusters to see if it could live up to the claims he made for its inclusion on such a “prestigious” list. I came to the following conclusion: Ghostbusters will stand the test of time as one of the greatest comedies ever made. Man I had forgotten just how good that movie is. Pretty much the whole next day I was walking around muttering to myself “Ray, if somebody asks you if you’re a god, you say YES!”
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Saturday I went to see Clerks 2. It was pretty damned good. Good, not great though. But I’ll still probably buy it on DVD when it comes out. I have to say though, that my favorite part of the movie (non-spoiler ahead), was when the family with the 12 year-old kid got up and walked out of the movie after about 10 minutes. Seriously, what the fuck did they expect? The movie was rated “R”, and they probably should have been smart enough to see the first one before attempting the second. This is beside the point but, I hate when people say that a sequel is good enough so that you don’t need to have seen its predecessor to enjoy it. Bullshit! Always see the first one before attempting a sequel. That will prevent retards from spending $15.75 on a movie and then walking out and probably demanding their money back. It’s your fault you fucking moron, but here’s your money. Take it and go rent The Little Mermaid or something. Back to the point, the movie was good and I’d recommend it to anyone who liked the first Clerks, or likes the View Askew films in general.
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After all my bitching and moaning about my former neighbor being an actor now and doing all his background work out in Tinsletown, the writers of SBDA decided to have a little fun with me. I got a call Saturday night to help out a friend by being an extra in a few scenes for his movie that he’s working on. So I got up Sunday morning and played the part of a not so mild-mannered reporter in a couple of City Council meetings. Too bad the scenes will be all montage and buried under music or something. My lines were the shit and completely ad libbed. Oh well. But now I’ve been branded a traitor in certain camps, and all I have to say to that it: Hey, Jake was in it too!!
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A.S.S. is still funny. Jake, Turner, Logan and I all got together Sunday to move Turner's stuff, and after dinner we had to go back and watch A.S.S. (both the original and the extended cut). Watching those just completely threw us back into that long-ass day (no pun intended) of shooting and editing. But we'd all gladly do that again in a heartbeat. You hear that, Chris? We'd gladly do it again in a heartbeat!
Huh. Whaddaya know? A movie theme for the entire weekend. And not just one where I watch an insane amount of bad movies just because they’re free. Not that I wouldn’t do it again if given the chance.
D
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
It can’t be any worse than Stripperella…
Or can it?
“The Iron Enforcer” is a douchebag and should have been shit-canned in the beginning, but is obviously still around thanks to the producers who want drama on the show. I mean look at him. Doesn’t that just scream “DOUCHEBAG!!!”? Well, first it screams “STEROIDS!!” then maybe “CLOSET HOMOSEXUAL!!!”, followed somewhere by “DOUCHEBAG!!!”. But you get the point. I was going to go off on his stupid, uber-fake gun that he runs around with, but what’s the point? Isn’t calling him a douchebag and calling his sexuality into question enough? I thought so.
Ah, “Major Victory”. The Major is fucking priceless. That’s the only term I’ve been able to come up with to describe him in the 12 hours since I watched the show: “priceless”. Look at him. He’s like a living caricature of a superhero. That’s my new Halloween costume right there. This guy used to be a male exotic dancer before coming on to the show, but that’s not what gets me. It’s the fact that every now and then he just completely stops what he’s doing and busts out what has to be part of one of his old stage routines. How can you not love that? Saving little girls and shaking his money maker to intimidate and or disorient his foes. That’s the combination of a winner right there, folks. Oh! Which totally reminds me of his catch phrase: “Be a winner, not a wiener.” Fucking-A, Major Victory. Fucking-A.
Despite The Iron Douche and Stan Lee’s insanity/senility, the fact that The Major is so over the top and lampoonish may be the saving grace of the show and the one thing that keeps me watching. Which, thank Frank Miller, there’s only 5 more episodes to go.
D
“Hi. My name is Stan Lee, and I may have finally lost my fucking mind! Excelsior!”
God help me, I watched “Who wants to be a Superhero?” last night. And I really can’t even tell you if it was good, bad or anything in between. It just…was. I mean, the name of the show alone should give you a sense of what I’m talking about. It should either be the most hilarious thing on TV, or the biggest pile of crap ever to get a green light (of course it is the Scifi Channel we’re talking about). But somehow, it actually managed to land right smack dab in the middle.
I won’t go into a description of the show because you can read that by clicking above, or a review either, because you can get that here. What I will do is tell you about two of the all-stars who may have slightly traumatized me in some way, or at least sullied my conception of a superhero. Even more so than Rob Liefeld could have done.
Let me just say that all the contestants are either bat-shit crazy or severely deficient in some way, but these two fascinated me in some Grant Morrison-esque, unholy way: The Iron Enforcer and Major Victory.
“The Iron Enforcer” is a douchebag and should have been shit-canned in the beginning, but is obviously still around thanks to the producers who want drama on the show. I mean look at him. Doesn’t that just scream “DOUCHEBAG!!!”? Well, first it screams “STEROIDS!!” then maybe “CLOSET HOMOSEXUAL!!!”, followed somewhere by “DOUCHEBAG!!!”. But you get the point. I was going to go off on his stupid, uber-fake gun that he runs around with, but what’s the point? Isn’t calling him a douchebag and calling his sexuality into question enough? I thought so.
Ah, “Major Victory”. The Major is fucking priceless. That’s the only term I’ve been able to come up with to describe him in the 12 hours since I watched the show: “priceless”. Look at him. He’s like a living caricature of a superhero. That’s my new Halloween costume right there. This guy used to be a male exotic dancer before coming on to the show, but that’s not what gets me. It’s the fact that every now and then he just completely stops what he’s doing and busts out what has to be part of one of his old stage routines. How can you not love that? Saving little girls and shaking his money maker to intimidate and or disorient his foes. That’s the combination of a winner right there, folks. Oh! Which totally reminds me of his catch phrase: “Be a winner, not a wiener.” Fucking-A, Major Victory. Fucking-A.
Despite The Iron Douche and Stan Lee’s insanity/senility, the fact that The Major is so over the top and lampoonish may be the saving grace of the show and the one thing that keeps me watching. Which, thank Frank Miller, there’s only 5 more episodes to go.
D
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Oh yeah? Well, um… I’ve got a blog!
There’s nothing like running into someone you know and haven’t seen in a while, who now has a much cooler job/life than you. Makes you feel all numb inside. Wait, that could be the booze you use to drown out the pangs of hate and jealousy. Either way, you don’t come away feeling all rainbows and puppy dogs.
Yesterday I ran into the guy that lived next door to me for a few years until he graduated and moved away to California. So I was a little surprised to see him when he walked around the back corner of the apartment when I was letting the dog out.
As we started to shoot the shit, I asked him how California was treating him and what he was up to. I figured that since he was an art major, and a pretty good one too, that he’d be painting or something while doing something else to earn money. No, no starving artist lifestyle or anything. He’s acting.
I never would have seen that coming from him, but apparently it’s treating him well: he lives in North Hollywood, has been working steady, and got his SAG card after two months of working. It takes most people years to get a SAG card, if they ever get one at all. That’s pretty lucky. How lucky? Think of it like this: he arrived in Hollywood on a Monday afternoon, and was on the set of CSI: Miami Tuesday morning. Again, that’s pretty damned lucky.
He’s mostly doing background work right now on TV and in a few movies, but he’s already had a few speaking roles and got his SAG card after his biggest speaking role, which is in the upcoming movie “Prestige” with Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale and Scarlet Johansson. And he just finished shooting his small scenes in “Dukes of Hazzard 2”.
Meanwhile, I got a job doing the same thing I was doing before, only at a different place. Wow.
So after talking to him for a while, I wished him continued good luck (I’m jealous, not a complete asshole) and went inside. It wasn’t until later in the evening that I thought “Aw, crap. I don’t even remember his name. It’s like Matt Somethingoranother. At least I think it’s Matt. Shit. This is gonna make it harder to look him up on IMDB.”
So now I’m really hoping that I get that other job, if only to boost my self esteem and ego just a tad, after the brutal blow it just took. Either that, or find some other way to even up the score. Like doing porn or being on Saturday Night Live. Wait, nix the SNL; porn is more respectable and will earn me a SAG card quicker.
D
Yesterday I ran into the guy that lived next door to me for a few years until he graduated and moved away to California. So I was a little surprised to see him when he walked around the back corner of the apartment when I was letting the dog out.
As we started to shoot the shit, I asked him how California was treating him and what he was up to. I figured that since he was an art major, and a pretty good one too, that he’d be painting or something while doing something else to earn money. No, no starving artist lifestyle or anything. He’s acting.
I never would have seen that coming from him, but apparently it’s treating him well: he lives in North Hollywood, has been working steady, and got his SAG card after two months of working. It takes most people years to get a SAG card, if they ever get one at all. That’s pretty lucky. How lucky? Think of it like this: he arrived in Hollywood on a Monday afternoon, and was on the set of CSI: Miami Tuesday morning. Again, that’s pretty damned lucky.
He’s mostly doing background work right now on TV and in a few movies, but he’s already had a few speaking roles and got his SAG card after his biggest speaking role, which is in the upcoming movie “Prestige” with Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale and Scarlet Johansson. And he just finished shooting his small scenes in “Dukes of Hazzard 2”.
Meanwhile, I got a job doing the same thing I was doing before, only at a different place. Wow.
So after talking to him for a while, I wished him continued good luck (I’m jealous, not a complete asshole) and went inside. It wasn’t until later in the evening that I thought “Aw, crap. I don’t even remember his name. It’s like Matt Somethingoranother. At least I think it’s Matt. Shit. This is gonna make it harder to look him up on IMDB.”
So now I’m really hoping that I get that other job, if only to boost my self esteem and ego just a tad, after the brutal blow it just took. Either that, or find some other way to even up the score. Like doing porn or being on Saturday Night Live. Wait, nix the SNL; porn is more respectable and will earn me a SAG card quicker.
D
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I hope nobody watched the news.
Well at least this little package anyways.
Which jobs do Americans think are the most prestigious?
Just what I need: more people wanting a job that I already want and have applied for. Thanks ABC, you bunch of bastards. The last thing I need is to have to fall back on my other plan: Real Estate Salesman. Wait... aww, damnit.
D
By the way, the inspirational phrase under "Courage" says:
"Courage comes from a reserve of mind much more powerful than outside circumstances."
Which jobs do Americans think are the most prestigious?
Just what I need: more people wanting a job that I already want and have applied for. Thanks ABC, you bunch of bastards. The last thing I need is to have to fall back on my other plan: Real Estate Salesman. Wait... aww, damnit.
D
By the way, the inspirational phrase under "Courage" says:
"Courage comes from a reserve of mind much more powerful than outside circumstances."
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Don't judge me, Monkey.
Finding out that someone I work with likes a certain movie can really go either way. In that, I mean they can gain or lose cool points in a split second. And depending on the movie, they can be elevated to “giving a shit as to what they say now” level or dropped down to the “dead to me” category. Most land in the latter.
Take for example, finding out that my boss’ boss loves the movie Grandma’s Boy. So much so, that she bought it on DVD when it came out after seeing it in theatres. With her 13 year-old son to boot, whom I’m sure was mortified to be sitting next to his mom for the bathroom scene with the Lara Croft figure. Especially when she asked him if she needed to explain it. Probably kinda like watching porn with your mom and dad. …… Not that I would know.
Let’s just say that she garnered herself a few more cool points, but I’ve really had to keep myself from spouting off my favorite line, just because I don’t know if I’ll get in trouble for saying it in a workplace environment. But I won’t get in trouble here, so I’ll say it: “Does this place have a bathroom, or do I have to shit in a plant?”
In closing, if you take away nothing from this “The More You Know” than the old proverb “Don’t judge a book by its blah blah blah”, well then you’re an idiot. I’m also trying to plug a movie here. So if you like comedies like Super Troopers and you haven’t seen Grandma’s Boy, do yourself a favor and run out to get it. Trust me. And my boss. And his.
D
One girl got elevated to the “giving a shit” level and had the pleasure of receiving the “get the fuck outta here!” response when I learned that she loved Bubble Boy. It took her a second to realize that was actually a compliment. I really need to work on my compliments.
Take for example, finding out that my boss’ boss loves the movie Grandma’s Boy. So much so, that she bought it on DVD when it came out after seeing it in theatres. With her 13 year-old son to boot, whom I’m sure was mortified to be sitting next to his mom for the bathroom scene with the Lara Croft figure. Especially when she asked him if she needed to explain it. Probably kinda like watching porn with your mom and dad. …… Not that I would know.
Let’s just say that she garnered herself a few more cool points, but I’ve really had to keep myself from spouting off my favorite line, just because I don’t know if I’ll get in trouble for saying it in a workplace environment. But I won’t get in trouble here, so I’ll say it: “Does this place have a bathroom, or do I have to shit in a plant?”
In closing, if you take away nothing from this “The More You Know” than the old proverb “Don’t judge a book by its blah blah blah”, well then you’re an idiot. I’m also trying to plug a movie here. So if you like comedies like Super Troopers and you haven’t seen Grandma’s Boy, do yourself a favor and run out to get it. Trust me. And my boss. And his.
D
One girl got elevated to the “giving a shit” level and had the pleasure of receiving the “get the fuck outta here!” response when I learned that she loved Bubble Boy. It took her a second to realize that was actually a compliment. I really need to work on my compliments.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Where does the time go?
There are several hours out of both day and night that I can’t really account for from Saturday and Sunday this past weekend. While I’m actually pretty used to this (I don’t have a problem), this time it wasn’t from drinking (that was Friday night). This was due to one of those special occasions that only happens once in a blue moon…or whenever I give in and pony up the cash.
I bought a new PS2 game.
I know, I know. Not the kind of thing that requires trumpets and confetti, nor the cryptic and overly dramatic intro I gave; but still, I don’t buy games as often as I’d like, so it’s a bit of a medium-size deal for me.
And first, let me state that I usually don’t buy games when they’re released unless I absolutely cannot go on living my life without it. Which is rare. I think X-Men Legends and one of the older Smackdown! games were the only ones I’ve been able to justify buying for $50 after the PS2 came out. Now I have to wait until they become “Greatest Hits” and drop down to $20, which I can totally justify. Well, every now and then.
So what was the new aberration in my time stream? The bane to the dog’s weekend? The very thing that caused me to skip out on an opportunity to go see Clerks 2?
I bought a new PS2 game.
I know, I know. Not the kind of thing that requires trumpets and confetti, nor the cryptic and overly dramatic intro I gave; but still, I don’t buy games as often as I’d like, so it’s a bit of a medium-size deal for me.
And first, let me state that I usually don’t buy games when they’re released unless I absolutely cannot go on living my life without it. Which is rare. I think X-Men Legends and one of the older Smackdown! games were the only ones I’ve been able to justify buying for $50 after the PS2 came out. Now I have to wait until they become “Greatest Hits” and drop down to $20, which I can totally justify. Well, every now and then.
So what was the new aberration in my time stream? The bane to the dog’s weekend? The very thing that caused me to skip out on an opportunity to go see Clerks 2?
If you’ve played this, then you know where I’m coming from. It hasn’t been voted the “Best Game for the PS2” several times for nothing. Kick ass action, gorgeous cut scenes, constant blood & gore, compelling characters, boobies, infuriating boss battles, tricky puzzles, boobies, and on and on. Oh, and let’s not forget about the best mini-game ever where you gain experience orbs by having a threesome. It’s way better than that shitty “Hot Coffee” mod. You know why? ‘Cause it’s actually a part of the game! Well that, and there's 2 girls... showing boobies. God help me, I am a sad sad geek.
Days turned into nights, nights turned into “Holy shit it’s late!”, and Kratos just kept on going like a Spartan juggernaut. At some point during the weekend (because I can’t remember what day it was), I wondered how far along in the game I was. I was hoping that I wasn’t already almost finished (because I’d been playing it for what seemed like forever), but I knew I still had a ways to go when I got to Pandora’s Temple with all of the puzzles, which is where I left off at last night. Right after getting Poseidon’s trident, to be precise.
My obsession is so bad that I seriously considered calling in sick this morning just so I could sleep in a little and then roll out of bed to start playing again. But instead of an all day binge, I’m sitting here at work going through withdrawals. I mean I’m still not getting any work done, but it’s somehow even more of a waste of everybody’s time with me just sitting here wanting to play instead of being productive. But how often am I actually productive anyways? Maybe I should just call in sick for the rest of the afternoon...
D
Friday, July 21, 2006
Gettin' lucky
Found a dollar the other day. Took it home and put a little note on it that said “Lottery Dollar” so I wouldn’t just throw it in my wallet and spend it on beer or something typical.
I really don’t know why, but I just kinda thought finding one, random dollar might be a little bit lucky. And I could always use a little good luck.
So earlier this afternoon I took it with me when I went to get gas, and used it to play the Mega Millions. Guess we’ll see how it plays out in the end.
D
Monkey Business
The entire office has been slacking off the last hour of work, sending Monk-e-mails to each other.
Some have been pretty funny, but most have sucked. I mean, this is an office environment after all.
So far I’ve resisted the temptation to do anything overtly crass or that could be considered sexual harassment. But don’t let that stop you. Send ‘em to screwbigdumbamerican@yahoo.com.
D
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Extra! Extra!
Aquaman Turns Green For “Smallville”
News is in that the star of the Aquaman-based drama “Mercy Reef”, which failed to be picked up by the CW network, will surface on Smallville’s upcoming sixth season this Fall.
Actor Justin Hartley, who was to play Arthur “A.C.” Curry (Aquaman) on “Mercy Reef”, has signed on to play a young Oliver Queen, otherwise known as the bow and arrow-wielding vigilante, Green Arrow.
Reportedly, Green Arrow will be trying to recruit Clark (Superman) into helping him form a “Justice League”; and will possibly be a reoccurring character for at least 7 episodes.
To that, all I have to say is:
Fuck Yeah!
D
News is in that the star of the Aquaman-based drama “Mercy Reef”, which failed to be picked up by the CW network, will surface on Smallville’s upcoming sixth season this Fall.
Actor Justin Hartley, who was to play Arthur “A.C.” Curry (Aquaman) on “Mercy Reef”, has signed on to play a young Oliver Queen, otherwise known as the bow and arrow-wielding vigilante, Green Arrow.
Reportedly, Green Arrow will be trying to recruit Clark (Superman) into helping him form a “Justice League”; and will possibly be a reoccurring character for at least 7 episodes.
To that, all I have to say is:
Fuck Yeah!
D
“I’ll take ‘The Rapists’ for 100, Trebek”
“The only beer better than free beer, is free beer that you’ve won.”
- Derek
Went to play “Heads Up Trivia” last night with Turner, and we ended up coming in second. Yes, the two, lowly “Monkey-Dogs” challenged and beat out several other teams of at least 5-6 players or more. And the team we lost to must have had about 10 people in it and also plays trivia every Tuesday night, so I’m happy with second. And extremely happy with the free pitcher of beer, courtesy of Connect Statesboro. (free beer = free plug)
Now if you’re wondering, the “Heads Up” in the Heads Up Trivia is that in between rounds, 2 teams send a representative on stage and they go head to head in a best of 5 series about the previous category (sort of). The players ring in by slamming their raised hand down on the “gigantic, wooden button”, and the first to “ring in” gets to answer. Yes, the “gigantic, wooden buzzer” would be the table. Heads Up Trivia is high-tech, folks.
I thought we’d have a chance when we found out the categories: Futurama (got 3 out of 7), Family Guy (6/7), Current Event Sports (4/7), and General Movies (6/7). Had we actually watched Futurama regularly or if I’d been able to catch more than the same 20 minutes of Sportscenter every day; we probably could have made up some ground in those categories. But the Family Guy and Movies kept us in it.
In the “humiliating Derek” segment of the evening, I got chosen to go up and represent the Monkey-Dogs after the Sports category. Yogus said the category would be collegiate mascots, where he’d give us the school and we give him the mascot. I was terrified I was going to just go blank and make an ass out of myself up in front of everyone. And blank I did.
Blank the other guy, suckas! 5 for 5 and a clean sweep. And all I got for my Flawless Victory was my picture taken, so that my ugly mug will be in the next edition of the Connect Statesboro . I was really hoping for free booze. I’d have to wait on that.
But it was the final question that saved the day and secured our precious free alcomohol. Not that we got it right or anything (hell no, we got that bitch wrong!), but that Turner and I were smart enough to not risk all our points, like we initially intended to. Turner , being the precocious, little chemist that he is; decided that it’d be tactically better to risk all but a few points of our total after doing some math in his head. Me, being the pop culture savant that I am, just went with “Uh huh. Ok, man.”
And after the final numbers were tallied, the first place team had 700 and something points, those poo flinging & fetching “Monkey-Dogs” came in a close second with 16 points, and there was like a 5 way tie for 3rd with 0 points. Even my math is good enough to know that 16 beats 0 and gets me free beer.
D
- Derek
Went to play “Heads Up Trivia” last night with Turner, and we ended up coming in second. Yes, the two, lowly “Monkey-Dogs” challenged and beat out several other teams of at least 5-6 players or more. And the team we lost to must have had about 10 people in it and also plays trivia every Tuesday night, so I’m happy with second. And extremely happy with the free pitcher of beer, courtesy of Connect Statesboro. (free beer = free plug)
Now if you’re wondering, the “Heads Up” in the Heads Up Trivia is that in between rounds, 2 teams send a representative on stage and they go head to head in a best of 5 series about the previous category (sort of). The players ring in by slamming their raised hand down on the “gigantic, wooden button”, and the first to “ring in” gets to answer. Yes, the “gigantic, wooden buzzer” would be the table. Heads Up Trivia is high-tech, folks.
I thought we’d have a chance when we found out the categories: Futurama (got 3 out of 7), Family Guy (6/7), Current Event Sports (4/7), and General Movies (6/7). Had we actually watched Futurama regularly or if I’d been able to catch more than the same 20 minutes of Sportscenter every day; we probably could have made up some ground in those categories. But the Family Guy and Movies kept us in it.
In the “humiliating Derek” segment of the evening, I got chosen to go up and represent the Monkey-Dogs after the Sports category. Yogus said the category would be collegiate mascots, where he’d give us the school and we give him the mascot. I was terrified I was going to just go blank and make an ass out of myself up in front of everyone. And blank I did.
Blank the other guy, suckas! 5 for 5 and a clean sweep. And all I got for my Flawless Victory was my picture taken, so that my ugly mug will be in the next edition of the Connect Statesboro . I was really hoping for free booze. I’d have to wait on that.
But it was the final question that saved the day and secured our precious free alcomohol. Not that we got it right or anything (hell no, we got that bitch wrong!), but that Turner and I were smart enough to not risk all our points, like we initially intended to. Turner , being the precocious, little chemist that he is; decided that it’d be tactically better to risk all but a few points of our total after doing some math in his head. Me, being the pop culture savant that I am, just went with “Uh huh. Ok, man.”
And after the final numbers were tallied, the first place team had 700 and something points, those poo flinging & fetching “Monkey-Dogs” came in a close second with 16 points, and there was like a 5 way tie for 3rd with 0 points. Even my math is good enough to know that 16 beats 0 and gets me free beer.
D
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Libraries: the silent partners in illiteracy
Ever hear of “Dial-A-Story”? The program at libraries where recorded stories are read to children when they call the library’s Dial-A-Story line? Do they have this in big cities? Well they do in Statesboro, and that’s what matters.
Any-hoo, just the other day I passed by the Library downtown and saw their sign for the Dial-A-Story with the number to call. I had a quick flashback to being little and calling that number over and over, day after day; just listening to every story they had, and then complaining to my parents when they started repeating the stories.
As I sat there in the car, I wondered aloud (which is totally different than talking to myself), “Do they really still have ‘Dial-A-Story’?”
Apparently they do. I was just forwarded a call that had Dial-A-Story on the other end. At first I thought I might have been put on hold, and was about to hang up the phone (no one calls me and then puts me on hold, damnit!), when I stopped and listened to what was on the other line.
“Holy crap! That’s ‘The Three Billy Goats Gruff’!”
Any-hoo, just the other day I passed by the Library downtown and saw their sign for the Dial-A-Story with the number to call. I had a quick flashback to being little and calling that number over and over, day after day; just listening to every story they had, and then complaining to my parents when they started repeating the stories.
As I sat there in the car, I wondered aloud (which is totally different than talking to myself), “Do they really still have ‘Dial-A-Story’?”
Apparently they do. I was just forwarded a call that had Dial-A-Story on the other end. At first I thought I might have been put on hold, and was about to hang up the phone (no one calls me and then puts me on hold, damnit!), when I stopped and listened to what was on the other line.
“Holy crap! That’s ‘The Three Billy Goats Gruff’!”
Had it been anyone else that works here, they probably would have laughed and then hung up the phone in order to continue working. That’s not how I roll. I listened to the whole damned thing and then contemplated looking up the number for Dial-A-Story to listen to another one. But I didn’t. Instead I proceeded to go around telling everyone about it, writing this, and doing anything else I could to keep from being productive. Seems to have worked.
After getting confirmation that Dial-A-Story is still around, I’m wondering if it’s just the same old stories that they read when I was little, or if they’ve updated anything at all. I’m also wondering if they’re ever gonna do adult Dial-A-Story lines. Oh wait, they have those already. They just all start with “1-900”.
D
Just in case you’re curious or feel like hearing a good story, I did go and look up the number for our Dial-A-Story: 912-764-1351. Yours may be different.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Beavers & Ducks!
Bits and Pieces of useless information from the weekend:
Bought a new razor the other day. One of the new, fancy dancy, Gillette Fusions. It’s ok. I still kinda prefer my older M3 really. But, the Fusion has the best razor accessory/gadget ever on it: the single blade on the back for getting that tricky part up under your nose.
I have to say, using that thing was pretty much a "Fuck Yeah Moment" for me. Which is sad. But if they could just combine the M3’s smooth shave with the Fusion's Fuck Yeah-worthy single blade on back, that’d be the best razor ever.
-----
Caught a double feature this Saturday, finally getting around to seeing 2 of the summer blockbusters: Superman Returns and Pirates of the Caribbean 2. I’ll not bore you with any reviews, because every other asshole on the Interweb already has written every review possible (not that I’m calling any of you assholes. You’re all insightful movie-goers whose reviews I value highly. <-- sarcasm). So I’ll just say that I liked them both. And they were both long. And I felt like a jackass for walking out of the theater after Superman, only to turn right around, purchase a ticket for Pirates, re-enter the theater, and see it. Turner said “I would’ve just walked down the hallway and into the other theater. No one was taking tickets.” … Shit.
-----
Brody and I sat and watched my neighbor moving out Sunday. Not offering to help mind you, just watching. And barking. Seems most everyone in my row is bailing out due to graduation or other circumstances. I think it's 6 apartments in my immediate vicinity. One neighbor, whom I actually liked (doesn’t mean I know her name, but she had dogs), is moving out due to the redneck couple who moved in next to her. Don’t get me wrong, they’re extremely nice, just really loud and obnoxious. And heavy, let me say that again, heavy smokers. Ex-neighbor said that smoke was all she could smell when she was home, like it was just coming out of every possible opening. She's moving across the way into the new apartments, so maybe I’ll still get to see her around every now and then.
-----
Watched a little bit of the movie “Bandits” with Bruce Willis and Billy Bob Thornton. I’ve seen it before and it was ok, I just wanted to see my favorite part: when Billy bob wakes up out of a dream exclaiming “Beavers and ducks!” But I missed it. Damn.
-----
This morning, I sat and watched the smoking lady (because “redneck lady” is a little harsh) try to get into her apartment for 5 minutes, just trying to unlock the door over and over. I asked if she needed help and went over to assist. I tried the bottom lock with the key and it was unlocked. I tried the deadbolt with said key, and viola, it opened. So, a good five minutes spent without trying the deadbolt. Nice.
-----
Monkey-dogs are the new pirates. Let me just go ahead and state that for the record. And let me also state that Turner and I created monkey-dogs. So if you hear someone talking about monkey-dogs, make sure they give credit where credit's due.
In case you're curious, Turner and I were watching "The Beast of Bray Road" (I'm a sucker for werewolf movies), when the doofus scientists claimed that the bite marks were "possibly primate in origin, but definitely from the canine family." What? What the fuck does that even mean? I guess those people were killed by... wait for it... monkey-dogs!
Monkey-dogs are totally Airwolf.
-----
Got really drunk Friday night. Pretty drunk Saturday night too. I know, I'm as surprised as you are.
-----
Chicken bowls and veggie, sushi rolls from Kyoto Express rule.
That is all.
D
Bought a new razor the other day. One of the new, fancy dancy, Gillette Fusions. It’s ok. I still kinda prefer my older M3 really. But, the Fusion has the best razor accessory/gadget ever on it: the single blade on the back for getting that tricky part up under your nose.
I have to say, using that thing was pretty much a "Fuck Yeah Moment" for me. Which is sad. But if they could just combine the M3’s smooth shave with the Fusion's Fuck Yeah-worthy single blade on back, that’d be the best razor ever.
-----
Caught a double feature this Saturday, finally getting around to seeing 2 of the summer blockbusters: Superman Returns and Pirates of the Caribbean 2. I’ll not bore you with any reviews, because every other asshole on the Interweb already has written every review possible (not that I’m calling any of you assholes. You’re all insightful movie-goers whose reviews I value highly. <-- sarcasm). So I’ll just say that I liked them both. And they were both long. And I felt like a jackass for walking out of the theater after Superman, only to turn right around, purchase a ticket for Pirates, re-enter the theater, and see it. Turner said “I would’ve just walked down the hallway and into the other theater. No one was taking tickets.” … Shit.
-----
Brody and I sat and watched my neighbor moving out Sunday. Not offering to help mind you, just watching. And barking. Seems most everyone in my row is bailing out due to graduation or other circumstances. I think it's 6 apartments in my immediate vicinity. One neighbor, whom I actually liked (doesn’t mean I know her name, but she had dogs), is moving out due to the redneck couple who moved in next to her. Don’t get me wrong, they’re extremely nice, just really loud and obnoxious. And heavy, let me say that again, heavy smokers. Ex-neighbor said that smoke was all she could smell when she was home, like it was just coming out of every possible opening. She's moving across the way into the new apartments, so maybe I’ll still get to see her around every now and then.
-----
Watched a little bit of the movie “Bandits” with Bruce Willis and Billy Bob Thornton. I’ve seen it before and it was ok, I just wanted to see my favorite part: when Billy bob wakes up out of a dream exclaiming “Beavers and ducks!” But I missed it. Damn.
-----
This morning, I sat and watched the smoking lady (because “redneck lady” is a little harsh) try to get into her apartment for 5 minutes, just trying to unlock the door over and over. I asked if she needed help and went over to assist. I tried the bottom lock with the key and it was unlocked. I tried the deadbolt with said key, and viola, it opened. So, a good five minutes spent without trying the deadbolt. Nice.
-----
Monkey-dogs are the new pirates. Let me just go ahead and state that for the record. And let me also state that Turner and I created monkey-dogs. So if you hear someone talking about monkey-dogs, make sure they give credit where credit's due.
In case you're curious, Turner and I were watching "The Beast of Bray Road" (I'm a sucker for werewolf movies), when the doofus scientists claimed that the bite marks were "possibly primate in origin, but definitely from the canine family." What? What the fuck does that even mean? I guess those people were killed by... wait for it... monkey-dogs!
Monkey-dogs are totally Airwolf.
-----
Got really drunk Friday night. Pretty drunk Saturday night too. I know, I'm as surprised as you are.
-----
Chicken bowls and veggie, sushi rolls from Kyoto Express rule.
That is all.
D
Friday, July 14, 2006
And the winning Mega-Super-Duper Lotto numbers are…
1, 2, 3, 4 & 5.
(Incredible! That’s the same combination I have on my luggage!)
I bet if I won the lottery, I’d suck as a multi-millionaire. What I mean is, I probably wouldn’t be a flashy one like Richard Branson or Mark Cuban, I’d probably be low-key like Sam Walton or Bill Gates.
That’s not to say that I wouldn’t end up doing a whole bunch of wild and stupid shit every now and then, because let’s face it, it’s me; and I’m sure that whatever I did would be glorious. It’d probably just take a little while for me to get used to the idea that I could actually do just about whatever I wanted. That, and probably a little reminding/prodding from my entourage.
Yes, my entourage. That’s probably the most expensive thing I would do after getting my money (lump sum, baby): bribing my friends who have moved out of town to move back and live the “Entourage” life with me. Fulfill the prophecy, so to speak. (of course the Brennaman Compound may have to be renamed)
Other than that, I wouldn’t really do anything too over the top like buying a sports franchise, building a rocket to outer space, paying inordinate amounts of money for dumb sports memorabilia (I’m looking at you Todd McFarland) or anything. I’d just live a comfortable life and make sure that my best friends did too. Possibly on reality TV.
That’s a great idea actually. It could be “Jackass” with more money (“Come on, Turner. I’ll give you $10,000 to let that donkey kick you.”). Or maybe a combination of “The Amazing Race” and “Insomniac” (“Big, Dumb American’s World Tour”?). A little “Double Dare” perhaps? (“I’ll take the Physical Challenge, D!”) How about just doing a couple of new episodes of A.S.S.? Yeah, that’d be sweet. Imagine the special effects in that! (Liquid Courage in 3-D! Smell the hobo’s burning with "Smell-o-vision"!)
On second thought, maybe I would make a half-decent, crazy-ass multi-millionaire. Now all I have to do is start playing the lottery. I wonder how much I’ll get laughed at by the cashier for picking 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5…
D
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Hot enough for ya?
Ahhh... Look at that beautiful weather for the next 10 days (click it to enlarge). That’s just about bad enough to make the Devil himself uncomfortable.
What? The rain? Oh, don’t kid yourself. That’s not going to make a dent in anything. Ok fine, maybe it’ll give us a few cooler minutes while it’s coming down. But as soon as it stops and the sun comes back out, it’ll just turn into an unbearable humidity (as Scott says, it’s “humiddidy”) that’ll be bad enough to make you want to bust out the fins and scuba masks.
And I can deal with the heat and the humidity, it’s those freakin’ gnats that bug me. (sorry) I get just as much exercise waving them away when I’m walking, as I do when I’m outside running. Those little fuckers are just about a good enough incentive to keep on running in and of themselves, just so you don’t have to deal with them as you run. At least then you're not waving them away like a retarded windshield wiper.
A retarded windshield wiper? Ugh. I just meant to bitch about the oppressive heat, not go off on a tangent. Ok, I’m calling it quits for this post.
D
A tinkle on the tele
You ever hear someone get a cell phone call or a text message, and their ringtone is the same as the one you just had but changed? And it totally weirded you out for some reason? Maybe because for a split second you thought you were getting a call or text from someone that you really didn’t want one from?
Anybody? No?
Um, yeah. Me neither.
D
Anybody? No?
Um, yeah. Me neither.
D
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
What do you do, Hotshot?! What do you do?!?!?
A not-so-shitty email forward I got:
You are driving in a car at a constant speed.
On your left side is a valley and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you.
In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car and you cannot overtake it.
Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground level.
Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the same speed as you.
What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?
(Scroll for answer.)
Get off the merry-go-round!! You're freakin' hammered!
Man, that's just like a dream I had once. Creepy.
D
You are driving in a car at a constant speed.
On your left side is a valley and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you.
In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car and you cannot overtake it.
Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground level.
Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the same speed as you.
What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?
(Scroll for answer.)
Get off the merry-go-round!! You're freakin' hammered!
Man, that's just like a dream I had once. Creepy.
D
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
If you want to investigate the basement, turn to page 37…
When I was younger, I was a voracious reader. Which was only natural, I suppose, if you looked at my family back then. My mom and dad were the same way, with my dad being a huge fan of any military and espionage author out there (I saw a W.E.B. Griffin book next to his bed last weekend) and my mom actually had a penchant for science fiction and thrillers (which unfortunately has gone towards the “Left Behind” series). My sister though, well I don’t really ever remember her reading very much. Which at that time, just added to my theory, that she was dumb and a functional illiterate. (The “shithead” theory was later proven with the help of her kitten in a completely different story altogether)
But me? I read just about anything that I could get my hands on. Sci-fi, horror, comics, military, fantasy, Playboy, etc…In fact, my parents were amazed that one kid could read as much as I did; while still putting in the quality time to watch more TV and play more video games than any adult could ever hope to. But it shut me the Hell up, and also proved I wasn’t as retarded as my sister claimed I was; so they encouraged it and enjoyed the periods of silence that accompanied my temporary, self-imposed literary exiles. My mom actually perpetuated things when she went to work at a bookstore and brought home scores of books for me to read.
But there was one type of book that I would just plow through in a single sitting; which was prolonged by reading the book again and again and again until I had made every choice and gotten every ending possible, be it stopping the Mummy’s curse or falling off the cliff onto the jagged rocks below:
Choose Your Own Adventure books.
Plain and simple, Choose Your Own Adventure books were the shit. There’s no two ways about it. I’ve read certain books several times, but there’s never been any other book that’s caused me to read it multiple times in the same sitting and then pick it up again later on for a quick run through to see if I could get the best ending the first time through. Not even “Where’s Waldo?”
Granted the books themselves weren’t that long, and God knows they weren’t literary masterpieces; but it was the novelty that you could read them over again and experience the different results of your actions/choices that kept kids reading them. And read them they did, to the point that it became a huge fad. Well at least in my school. I remember every kid in my class reading a CYOA book. For a while, you weren’t cool unless you were reading (take THAT, Pokemon!). For me, it was as big a part of the 80’s as slap bracelets, Transformers, Garbage Pail Kids, “Where’s the beef?”, and Saturday Night's Main Event.
But as with all fads, they faded away into pop culture obscurity. Sure, one would pop up every now and then, but for the most part, CYOA books were replaced by Nintendo when it came to children’s attention. Even I succumbed to Mario’s mushroom-stompin’-tutle-kickin’ charms.
But rest assured, Choose Your Own Adventure books have a special place in the Literary Pantheon, right next to Webster’s Dictionary, The Bible, Paradise Lost, The Encyclopedia Britannica, the Dead Sea Scrolls, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Shakespeare, and Everybody Poops.
I actually still have a CYOA book at home. It’s actually not the “CYOA” brand, but a CYOA-style book printed by Marvel Comics starring my favorite superhero ever: Wolverine.
D
Wait a second.. Does any of this look familiar to anybody? Those cocksuckers at HBO totally ripped off Choose Your Own Adventure!!
But me? I read just about anything that I could get my hands on. Sci-fi, horror, comics, military, fantasy, Playboy, etc…In fact, my parents were amazed that one kid could read as much as I did; while still putting in the quality time to watch more TV and play more video games than any adult could ever hope to. But it shut me the Hell up, and also proved I wasn’t as retarded as my sister claimed I was; so they encouraged it and enjoyed the periods of silence that accompanied my temporary, self-imposed literary exiles. My mom actually perpetuated things when she went to work at a bookstore and brought home scores of books for me to read.
But there was one type of book that I would just plow through in a single sitting; which was prolonged by reading the book again and again and again until I had made every choice and gotten every ending possible, be it stopping the Mummy’s curse or falling off the cliff onto the jagged rocks below:
Choose Your Own Adventure books.
Plain and simple, Choose Your Own Adventure books were the shit. There’s no two ways about it. I’ve read certain books several times, but there’s never been any other book that’s caused me to read it multiple times in the same sitting and then pick it up again later on for a quick run through to see if I could get the best ending the first time through. Not even “Where’s Waldo?”
Granted the books themselves weren’t that long, and God knows they weren’t literary masterpieces; but it was the novelty that you could read them over again and experience the different results of your actions/choices that kept kids reading them. And read them they did, to the point that it became a huge fad. Well at least in my school. I remember every kid in my class reading a CYOA book. For a while, you weren’t cool unless you were reading (take THAT, Pokemon!). For me, it was as big a part of the 80’s as slap bracelets, Transformers, Garbage Pail Kids, “Where’s the beef?”, and Saturday Night's Main Event.
But as with all fads, they faded away into pop culture obscurity. Sure, one would pop up every now and then, but for the most part, CYOA books were replaced by Nintendo when it came to children’s attention. Even I succumbed to Mario’s mushroom-stompin’-tutle-kickin’ charms.
But rest assured, Choose Your Own Adventure books have a special place in the Literary Pantheon, right next to Webster’s Dictionary, The Bible, Paradise Lost, The Encyclopedia Britannica, the Dead Sea Scrolls, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Shakespeare, and Everybody Poops.
I actually still have a CYOA book at home. It’s actually not the “CYOA” brand, but a CYOA-style book printed by Marvel Comics starring my favorite superhero ever: Wolverine.
D
Wait a second.. Does any of this look familiar to anybody? Those cocksuckers at HBO totally ripped off Choose Your Own Adventure!!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Tasteless jokes about death
Because I'm not feeling very creative today (or really have anything to say that can follow my last post), I just dceided to make fun of this article:
Here's a few alternate headlines:
Like father, like son
Adding chlorine to Malaysian family's gene pool
Both father, son huge fans of "Final Destinantion" and "Superman"
Sense of timing does not run in family
Time not only thing cut short by shortcut
"If you put your ear to the tracks, you can hear the train coming..."
Malaysian Supermen NOT more powerful than locomotive
New Malaysian "X-treme" sport not very popular, successful
Study shows rednecks live in Malaysia too
Fucking retards.
Here's a few alternate headlines:
Like father, like son
Adding chlorine to Malaysian family's gene pool
Both father, son huge fans of "Final Destinantion" and "Superman"
Sense of timing does not run in family
Time not only thing cut short by shortcut
"If you put your ear to the tracks, you can hear the train coming..."
Malaysian Supermen NOT more powerful than locomotive
New Malaysian "X-treme" sport not very popular, successful
Study shows rednecks live in Malaysia too
Fucking retards.
"Don't try this at home" loses a little something in the Malaysian translation
D
Friday, July 07, 2006
You can't go home again...
But you can damn sure visit!
This post brought to you by Guinness. Well, actually, by lots of Guinnesses...
This post brought to you by Guinness. Well, actually, by lots of Guinnesses...
So I'm in South Carolina. Notice I don't put an adjective in front of that. Mostly because I'm pretty fucking indifferent to it. Man it's fucking hard to see and type. Guinness apparently robs you of your since of sight. Must be why a lot of the Irish women look good to the Irish men. I kid, I kid. I'd take an Irish woman right now. I'd take her to an underground fight club and put money one her, but that's another story.
So I'm in South Carolina visiting the family and my step-brother, who's in the Army. He's on leave for a few weeks and I made it up to visit him the weekend he's within driving distance to see. And I'm half-wasted. And I just re-typed that last sentence 3 times. And this past one once. So, I guess I'm pretty damned wasted realy...
Anyhoo, I'm pretty drunk. Wow. I think this is the first time I've actually come thorough on my threat to drink and type. Not like I haven't wanted to, but been able to. I guess having a computer at home mught actually be pretty bad sometimes. Or really fucking funny. I dunno.
Again, anyhoo... so they say you can't go home again. I really don't know about that. A lot of times in the movies they have the protagonist (big word!) go home and end up staying and/or succeeding there; like in Garden State. I mean for fuck's sake Largeman goes back to New Jersey (of all places) and meets the love of his lfe Sam (lucky fucking bastard).
Me? I come back to Aiken and find that it's sprinted past Statesboro in just about every aspect possible: culture, size, history, commerce, cool shit, etc... Every fucking time I come here, there's some new cool shit that it has that the 'Boro doesn't. Like Target, PetsMart, liqour stores, Home Depot, Publix, alcohol on Sundays, and a whole bucnh of other cool shit. And it pisses me off. I know, surprise surprise.
But every time I come back here and see how much Aiken has grown and started to surpass Statesboro (minus the better collegiate sports), I still feel like a stranger or an outsider when I'm here. That's despit the fact that when I left, I had spent half of my life living here. I watched it grow and prosper. But when I left, it tured a big corner. A change that was meant to attract people to relocate to it. Maybe even people like me.
But I can't bring myself to move back. As much as I'd like to be a part of a larger city, or a city with more options, this just isn't my home home anymore. Statesboro is. That's not to say I wouldn't consider moving to another city if the opportunity aroser, because I would. It just would probably never be Aiken.
So if none of this makes any fucking sense, blame the Guinness. I'm just trying to say that your home isn't always where your family and roots are, even if you feel a tug every time you visit. Your home is really where your heart is, and God that was fucking corny as shit. But for now, my heart is in Statesboro.
I have no fucking clue as to how to tie this shit togther any more, so... Go Eagles.
D
Thursday, July 06, 2006
User Created
I spent a little while the other day trying to think of some new issues of “Drunken Escapades” to regale you with. I came up with a whole lot of nothing. Well, really I came up with a few partial stories. Funny as they may be to me, I didn’t think they’d be all that great for you. I mean, how many times do you want to hear me saying “I've got nothing until I woke up to hearing someone asking for the local donkey show”? Wait, that might be a good one.*
Anyways, I did come up with a good idea: a little something I like to call “User Created”. All right, I totally and blatantly ripped that off of Attack of the Show, but they don’t use it any more, so I’m calling dibs.
What does “User Created” involve, you ask? Ask, damnit! Thank you. User Created is where you pick up my slack when it comes to future issues of “Drunken Escapades”. All those great, partial stories that I’ve been (not really) dying to blather all over the Interweb but can’t remember? The ones that you remember a whole hell of a lot better than I do? Well now you get to tell them. Now’s your chance to thoroughly embarrass the shit outta me, or at least attempt to before I add/remove anything that I find too revealing or will get me added to any terrorist lists or sent me to jail and or rehab. Again.
That’s right, you get to submit your favorite stories chronicling my drunken misadventures in and around Statesboro (or wherever, if I’ve gotten drunk with you somewhere else). And while we’re at it, why stop at me being drunk? Why don’t we just have some good old “This one time Derek did such and such…and he wasn’t even drinking!” stories in there too? I know Chris is up for the “2 spoons story”, ‘cause that’s a fucking classic.
So there’s your assignment: embarrass me. That ought to be fun for ya. Just type ‘em up and send ‘em on over to the official e-mail address of “Screw Big, Dumb American!”: screwbigdumbamerican@yahoo.com . When I receive them, I’ll do any editing necessary (I promise it will be very minimal as to keep the embarrassment level as high as possible) and then post them as I need them. If I get enough of them, I can possibly turn it into a weekly column/post. AND, I'll even give you credit for the story. Your own byline, if you will.
But it all depends on how much I get from you, my loyal and loving friends (who I may or may not disown).
And….begin.
***
Late Judge's ruling:
Creative fanfic or photos may also be submitted, but subject to review.
***
D
*I have never actually awoken to someone inquiring about the local donkey shows. But that's not to say that I probably haven't gotten wasted and inquired of someone else about their local donkey shows...
Anyways, I did come up with a good idea: a little something I like to call “User Created”. All right, I totally and blatantly ripped that off of Attack of the Show, but they don’t use it any more, so I’m calling dibs.
What does “User Created” involve, you ask? Ask, damnit! Thank you. User Created is where you pick up my slack when it comes to future issues of “Drunken Escapades”. All those great, partial stories that I’ve been (not really) dying to blather all over the Interweb but can’t remember? The ones that you remember a whole hell of a lot better than I do? Well now you get to tell them. Now’s your chance to thoroughly embarrass the shit outta me, or at least attempt to before I add/remove anything that I find too revealing or will get me added to any terrorist lists or sent me to jail and or rehab. Again.
That’s right, you get to submit your favorite stories chronicling my drunken misadventures in and around Statesboro (or wherever, if I’ve gotten drunk with you somewhere else). And while we’re at it, why stop at me being drunk? Why don’t we just have some good old “This one time Derek did such and such…and he wasn’t even drinking!” stories in there too? I know Chris is up for the “2 spoons story”, ‘cause that’s a fucking classic.
So there’s your assignment: embarrass me. That ought to be fun for ya. Just type ‘em up and send ‘em on over to the official e-mail address of “Screw Big, Dumb American!”: screwbigdumbamerican@yahoo.com . When I receive them, I’ll do any editing necessary (I promise it will be very minimal as to keep the embarrassment level as high as possible) and then post them as I need them. If I get enough of them, I can possibly turn it into a weekly column/post. AND, I'll even give you credit for the story. Your own byline, if you will.
But it all depends on how much I get from you, my loyal and loving friends (who I may or may not disown).
And….begin.
***
Late Judge's ruling:
Creative fanfic or photos may also be submitted, but subject to review.
***
D
*I have never actually awoken to someone inquiring about the local donkey shows. But that's not to say that I probably haven't gotten wasted and inquired of someone else about their local donkey shows...
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Mascots Behaving Badly
Bulls mascot charged with assault
"Barry Anderson, the Benny the Bull mascot, was charged with misdemeanor battery and driving within a parkway. The 26-year-old man is accused of throwing a punch at the sheriff's deputy, knocking off his glasses and breaking his watch."
It's still not better than when the Pittsburgh Pirates fired Tim Beggy as their mascot for having a hot tub scandal. But I wonder if they'll let him wear the bull head in the mugshot...
D
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
For the kids
It was originally meant for kids, but I felt like they left a few things out of it that the kids needed to know.
Why do we celebrate the 4th of July?
Most people in the United States celebrate the 4th of July (except illegal aliens and communists), but do you know exactly why the holiday is so important to our country (probably not, if you go to public school)? Imagine how you would feel if someone older than you (maybe an older sister or brother) (or your parents, bosses, even the government later in life) kept telling you what to do all of the time and kept taking more and more of your allowance. That is how the colonists felt in the years leading up to 1776 (back before TV and Al Gore invented the Internet). Great Britain kept trying to make the colonists follow more rules and pay higher taxes. People started getting mad and began making plans to be able to make their own rules. They no longer wanted Great Britain to be able to tell them what to do, so they decided to tell Great Britain that they were becoming an independent country (and to shove it up their ass). (To be independent means to take care of yourself, making your own rules and providing for your own needs.) (To shove it up their ass means to, well I think you know what it means.)
The Congress met in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and they appointed a committee (a group of people working together to do a specific job) (and the only ones who could read and write above a 4th grade level) to write a formal document that would tell Great Britain that the Americans had decided to govern themselves (and to go shag themselves). The committee asked Thomas Jefferson to write a draft (first try) (of many) of the document, so he worked for days, in absolute secret, until he had written a document that he thought said everything important that the committee had discussed (and a few choice words of his own). On June 28, 1776, the committee met to read Jefferson's "fair" copy (he put his best ideas together and wrote them neatly.) They revised (made some changes) (by hand, because spellcheck wan't around then) the document and declared their independence on July 2, 1776 (hence why the Philadelphia basketball team is called the 76ers). They officially adopted it (made it theirs) (like Brad and Angelina's homemade UN of children) on July 4, 1776. That is why we call it "Independence Day." (Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum have nothing to do with it.) Congress ordered that all members must sign the Declaration of Independence and they all began signing the "official" copy on August 2, 1776. In January of the next year, Congress sent signed copies to all of the states. (But as Nicolas Cage taught us, the real copy has a treasure map on the back of it.)
The Declaration of Independence is more than just a piece of paper (and treasure map). It is a symbol of our country's independence and commitment to certain ideas. A symbol is something that stands for something else. Most people can look at a certain little "swoosh" and know that it stands for "Nike." (or an extended middle finger means "fuck you".)Well, the signers of the Declaration of Independence wanted the citizens of the United States to have a document that spelled out what was important to our leaders and citizens. They wanted us to be able to look at the Declaration of Independence and immediately think of the goals we should always be working for (except, ironically, for on the 4th of July when noone really works), and about the people who have fought so hard to make these ideas possible. The people who signed the Declaration risked being hanged for treason by the leaders in Great Britain. They had to be very brave (or possibly very drunk) to sign something that would be considered a crime! So every time we look at the Declaration of Independence, we should think about all of the effort and ideas that went into the document, and about the courage it took for these people to stand up for what they knew was right -- independence! (and treasure) (or not) (but mostly the whole "independence" thing)
-----
Apparently I don't give Nicolas Cage enough credit for his teaching the youth of America. And also, I think I may have developed some new and twisted love/hate things with Nicolas Cage. God, what have I become?
Happy 4th of July, everybody.
D
Nothing to do with Independence Day...
Why do we celebrate the 4th of July?
Most people in the United States celebrate the 4th of July (except illegal aliens and communists), but do you know exactly why the holiday is so important to our country (probably not, if you go to public school)? Imagine how you would feel if someone older than you (maybe an older sister or brother) (or your parents, bosses, even the government later in life) kept telling you what to do all of the time and kept taking more and more of your allowance. That is how the colonists felt in the years leading up to 1776 (back before TV and Al Gore invented the Internet). Great Britain kept trying to make the colonists follow more rules and pay higher taxes. People started getting mad and began making plans to be able to make their own rules. They no longer wanted Great Britain to be able to tell them what to do, so they decided to tell Great Britain that they were becoming an independent country (and to shove it up their ass). (To be independent means to take care of yourself, making your own rules and providing for your own needs.) (To shove it up their ass means to, well I think you know what it means.)
The Congress met in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and they appointed a committee (a group of people working together to do a specific job) (and the only ones who could read and write above a 4th grade level) to write a formal document that would tell Great Britain that the Americans had decided to govern themselves (and to go shag themselves). The committee asked Thomas Jefferson to write a draft (first try) (of many) of the document, so he worked for days, in absolute secret, until he had written a document that he thought said everything important that the committee had discussed (and a few choice words of his own). On June 28, 1776, the committee met to read Jefferson's "fair" copy (he put his best ideas together and wrote them neatly.) They revised (made some changes) (by hand, because spellcheck wan't around then) the document and declared their independence on July 2, 1776 (hence why the Philadelphia basketball team is called the 76ers). They officially adopted it (made it theirs) (like Brad and Angelina's homemade UN of children) on July 4, 1776. That is why we call it "Independence Day." (Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum have nothing to do with it.) Congress ordered that all members must sign the Declaration of Independence and they all began signing the "official" copy on August 2, 1776. In January of the next year, Congress sent signed copies to all of the states. (But as Nicolas Cage taught us, the real copy has a treasure map on the back of it.)
The Declaration of Independence is more than just a piece of paper (and treasure map). It is a symbol of our country's independence and commitment to certain ideas. A symbol is something that stands for something else. Most people can look at a certain little "swoosh" and know that it stands for "Nike." (or an extended middle finger means "fuck you".)Well, the signers of the Declaration of Independence wanted the citizens of the United States to have a document that spelled out what was important to our leaders and citizens. They wanted us to be able to look at the Declaration of Independence and immediately think of the goals we should always be working for (except, ironically, for on the 4th of July when noone really works), and about the people who have fought so hard to make these ideas possible. The people who signed the Declaration risked being hanged for treason by the leaders in Great Britain. They had to be very brave (or possibly very drunk) to sign something that would be considered a crime! So every time we look at the Declaration of Independence, we should think about all of the effort and ideas that went into the document, and about the courage it took for these people to stand up for what they knew was right -- independence! (and treasure) (or not) (but mostly the whole "independence" thing)
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Apparently I don't give Nicolas Cage enough credit for his teaching the youth of America. And also, I think I may have developed some new and twisted love/hate things with Nicolas Cage. God, what have I become?
Happy 4th of July, everybody.
D
Nothing to do with Independence Day...
Everything to do with the Declaration of Independence...
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