This past weekend was supposed to be great. I was going to hang out with my fiance, go to a festival if the weather was nice, and if it rained I had invites to attend a few birthday parties.
Friday rolls around and my boss tells us all to go home early. Great! I'll get the weekend kicked off early. On the way home I decide to stop by my old work and say hi to the guys I haven't seen in well over a year. I see a few of them, exchange my number, and go into the office to see the boss man. The funniest shit happened. Apparently, my boss, we'll call him "Duh" got stung by a bee while riding his mountain bike. Well the bee was raping his upper lip while he was on some downhill trail, so Duh couldn't defend himself. His upper lip swelled to the size of a duck bill. I wish I had a digital camera, because his platypus face looked priceless. I tooled on their computers a little for them and they told me they were in need of a surveillance system and asked if I would write up a proposal for them. Fan-fucking-tastic! A quick bit o change in my pocket for a days work makes the weekend look even brighter. I get home and immediately get a wicked headache. This headache, it would turn out, would be my omen of things to come. By the time 8 rolled around I was sweating like a Republican Congressman watching a high school boy's wrestling match. I had a fever well over 100.
Fucking awesome, scratch the plans with the lady. The next day, my forehead is Africa hot and I feel like hammered shit so no concert. I manage to get my ass off the couch for one of the birthday parties and have as good a time as possible with a 101 degree temp, a marching band in my skull, and a self imposed 1 beer limit (a real "1", not the 1 cup thing I invented). The next day I feel shitty so I decide to give (sell) my ticket to a friend of a friend. I can't even find my fucking tickets. Now I'm out $70 for a concert I can't even go to if I feel better.
I end up consoling myself by saying that I'll catch the band I want to see most (30 Seconds to Mars) when they come to LA. I look up their tour schedule and lo and behold, they have 3 dates in CA. Sweet....but wait, their first stop in San Fran is 2 days before I go up there, that's out. Their San Diego and LA stops are when I'm in San Fran, wtf?!? Apparently all those jokes I made about retards/gays/republicans/blacks/whites/yellows/etc have come back to bite me in the ass.
To all you optimists who say "every cloud has a silver lining." Go fuck yourselves. That silver lining is toxic fucking mercury.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
It's not just for black people anymore.
As I discussed in my previous post, I saw The Departed yesterday. Once again, it rocks, go see it. When I was in the theater the people in the row directly behind us were talking. The whole time. In Chinese.
WTF! Even Asian people want to be black now? How dare they attempt to appropriate my people's cultural idiosyncrasies and adopt them as their own. Who the fuck do they think they are....white people? The only reason I didn't turn around and challenge Jackie Chan and his wife to a martial arts battle (they all know karate) was because I figured the man was translating for his English impaired wife. Of course the woman didn't speak English well enough to understand the damn movie, but I'm sure she passed (read: bought) her driver's license test.
Listen, I don't fucking go to Mexico and have my translator (read: fiance) give me the fucking play by play of Y Tu Mama Tambien 2: The Revenge, do I? No. So don't come to movies here and do it. If you can't speak the language, then go down to East LA/Compton/Chinatown and buy a bootleg with Chinese subtitles off of a Mexican/Black/Chinese guy on the sidewalk.
Next time, I will not be a model for tolerance. I will go Kim Jong Il on your South Korean ass.
WTF! Even Asian people want to be black now? How dare they attempt to appropriate my people's cultural idiosyncrasies and adopt them as their own. Who the fuck do they think they are....white people? The only reason I didn't turn around and challenge Jackie Chan and his wife to a martial arts battle (they all know karate) was because I figured the man was translating for his English impaired wife. Of course the woman didn't speak English well enough to understand the damn movie, but I'm sure she passed (read: bought) her driver's license test.
Listen, I don't fucking go to Mexico and have my translator (read: fiance) give me the fucking play by play of Y Tu Mama Tambien 2: The Revenge, do I? No. So don't come to movies here and do it. If you can't speak the language, then go down to East LA/Compton/Chinatown and buy a bootleg with Chinese subtitles off of a Mexican/Black/Chinese guy on the sidewalk.
Next time, I will not be a model for tolerance. I will go Kim Jong Il on your South Korean ass.
My friends are pussies.
Last night I saw The Departed, and I've got to say that the movie is tits (excellent). My night went great, I didn't have to pay for dinner because my buddy Chris (name changed for privacy) was a sucker and thought the fucking Dodgers would get to the World Series (of baseball, not poker...idiots). Anyway, he was wrong and more importantly, I was right (it happens so often you'd think I'd get tired of it). So I only had to pay for the movie. I could have had no margaritas at dinner and had Chris pay for the movie as well, but then it would have been "gay date night" and there would have been an argument as to who gets to be the top, yada yada, I paid for the movie (I'm no man's bitch).
Anyway, the movie was great (it had more headshots than a bukkake video), but I made the mistake of looking at the listing for the wrong theater in Fandango. We ended up getting to the theater an hour before the movie was supposed to start. We caught the last 10 minutes of Jackass Number 2, then went to the shit pile that is Employee of the Month. I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that I did not once naturally laugh in the movie. I laughed hysterically when I thought I was losing my mind and once out of pity for Dane Cook. I hope that poor sonofabitch banged the stupid out of Jessica Simpson because that movie was awful. I will masturbate with a hook before I watch the rest of that shit.
Anyway, you may be wondering about the title of this post in relation to its content. No correlation huh? Well evolved was supposed to hang out with us at some point, but he had a previous engagement. What was this activity that was soooo important? Watching fucking mustached Tyra Banks on America's Next Top Model! That is fucking weak. Apparently, even though he drives a pimp ass car and has a 40 something inch LCD TV, he doesn't have TiVo. "Dude, I'm not rich," was his lame excuse. I even offered to record his gay show on my VCR and give it to him after the movie. No dice. I understand that ANTM is "your show," but seriously, man to man, tell me you only watch it for possibility of a wardrobe malfunction...please tell me.
So yeah, evolved is a pussy. I'm not bitter though...no no...not bitter at all........chicken fucker.
Anyway, the movie was great (it had more headshots than a bukkake video), but I made the mistake of looking at the listing for the wrong theater in Fandango. We ended up getting to the theater an hour before the movie was supposed to start. We caught the last 10 minutes of Jackass Number 2, then went to the shit pile that is Employee of the Month. I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that I did not once naturally laugh in the movie. I laughed hysterically when I thought I was losing my mind and once out of pity for Dane Cook. I hope that poor sonofabitch banged the stupid out of Jessica Simpson because that movie was awful. I will masturbate with a hook before I watch the rest of that shit.
Anyway, you may be wondering about the title of this post in relation to its content. No correlation huh? Well evolved was supposed to hang out with us at some point, but he had a previous engagement. What was this activity that was soooo important? Watching fucking mustached Tyra Banks on America's Next Top Model! That is fucking weak. Apparently, even though he drives a pimp ass car and has a 40 something inch LCD TV, he doesn't have TiVo. "Dude, I'm not rich," was his lame excuse. I even offered to record his gay show on my VCR and give it to him after the movie. No dice. I understand that ANTM is "your show," but seriously, man to man, tell me you only watch it for possibility of a wardrobe malfunction...please tell me.
So yeah, evolved is a pussy. I'm not bitter though...no no...not bitter at all........chicken fucker.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Get a fucking babysitter!
By request, reader Cameron asked me to discuss (read: rant) about people that bring young children into adult movies. When I say "adult movies," I do not mean porn (Mark Foley), I am referring to movies that their child/children shouldn't be in.
If you have a 1 year old and you take his incontinent ass to Donald Duck's Merry Adventure or whatever Disney shit is in theaters, that's fine, I don't watch that crap anyway. Have a fucking ball. However, when you take a kid (under the age of 13) to an R-rated movie, were going to have a problem. Your loud-ass, snack eating, ADHD having, nonstop talking, booger eater of a kid is ruining the experience for everyone else in the ENTIRE THEATER! People, please, by all means get a fucking babysitter! I don't care if you have to drop your kid off a Michael Jackson's pad in Bahrain or let uncle Mark Foley watch your boy for a couple hours, do whatever the fuck it takes to keep your brats out of my earshot (and line of sight).
If, by chance, you do bring your child to the movie and they begin to make noise...immediately remove them from the theater. Do not try and shush them! Do not ignore them and sit through their talking/tantrum/crying/shitting/vomiting/whatever the fuck they are doing. I do not have kids, therefore, I can not tune them out. Stuff a fucking ball gag in that kid's mouth, grab them by the nape of their neck, and spank them all the way out the door. If you do nothing, I will tell you to "shut that mongrel bastard up!" If you still do nothing, I may throw something at you. If you still remain ambivalent, I will get an usher, demand that he/she/it remove you from the theater. If the 15 year old usher encounters a problem and calls his 16 year year old manager, who still does nothing. I will assault and batter you and scar your testes/uterus to prevent you from polluting the earth with your demon progeny.
I will smite you from the face of the earth, chop your body up into chunks, and use it for chum when I go shark fishing (I will learn how to fish for sharks for this expressed purpose). I will salt the ground surrounding your graves so that no form of life may become infected with your foul taint. I will erase all record of your existence from the public record. You will suffer.
If you have a 1 year old and you take his incontinent ass to Donald Duck's Merry Adventure or whatever Disney shit is in theaters, that's fine, I don't watch that crap anyway. Have a fucking ball. However, when you take a kid (under the age of 13) to an R-rated movie, were going to have a problem. Your loud-ass, snack eating, ADHD having, nonstop talking, booger eater of a kid is ruining the experience for everyone else in the ENTIRE THEATER! People, please, by all means get a fucking babysitter! I don't care if you have to drop your kid off a Michael Jackson's pad in Bahrain or let uncle Mark Foley watch your boy for a couple hours, do whatever the fuck it takes to keep your brats out of my earshot (and line of sight).
If, by chance, you do bring your child to the movie and they begin to make noise...immediately remove them from the theater. Do not try and shush them! Do not ignore them and sit through their talking/tantrum/crying/shitting/vomiting/whatever the fuck they are doing. I do not have kids, therefore, I can not tune them out. Stuff a fucking ball gag in that kid's mouth, grab them by the nape of their neck, and spank them all the way out the door. If you do nothing, I will tell you to "shut that mongrel bastard up!" If you still do nothing, I may throw something at you. If you still remain ambivalent, I will get an usher, demand that he/she/it remove you from the theater. If the 15 year old usher encounters a problem and calls his 16 year year old manager, who still does nothing. I will assault and batter you and scar your testes/uterus to prevent you from polluting the earth with your demon progeny.
I will smite you from the face of the earth, chop your body up into chunks, and use it for chum when I go shark fishing (I will learn how to fish for sharks for this expressed purpose). I will salt the ground surrounding your graves so that no form of life may become infected with your foul taint. I will erase all record of your existence from the public record. You will suffer.
Power is the root of all evil.
By now you should have heard about North Korea's nuclear test. Those feisty little yellows and their crazy fireworks! Anyway, this, and an interesting Family Circus comic I read got me thinking about power.
Power is the root of all evil. Don't believe me? Look at the president of the United States. Absolute power, and he is absolutely evil. Dude, his vice president is a fucking cyborg for crying out loud. Cyborgs are evil, in case you didn't know. Except for Robocop. Also, Kim Jong Il, evil little motherfucker. He's got the nuke, a bad perm, and a Napoleon complex. Watch out South Korea, your happy go lucky days of playing Starcraft and eating dogs are numbered.
Here's the comic that got me thinking about all of this. It's way better than any Family Circus pile of shit you may have seen in the paper. Click Here.
Power is the root of all evil. Don't believe me? Look at the president of the United States. Absolute power, and he is absolutely evil. Dude, his vice president is a fucking cyborg for crying out loud. Cyborgs are evil, in case you didn't know. Except for Robocop. Also, Kim Jong Il, evil little motherfucker. He's got the nuke, a bad perm, and a Napoleon complex. Watch out South Korea, your happy go lucky days of playing Starcraft and eating dogs are numbered.
Here's the comic that got me thinking about all of this. It's way better than any Family Circus pile of shit you may have seen in the paper. Click Here.
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