YEEHAW

So Obama picked his Secretary of the Interior today, Senator from Colorado Ken Salazar. That’s cool with me, but why the fuck did Salazar decide to dress like a Texas oil Tycoon at the press conference? Ten gallon hat and one of those stupid cowboy ties? Didn’t we learn from the past 8 years that politicians that wear western wear are not all that well respected on Capitol Hill? Come on man, you just got chosen to be in the hippest political entourage in American history. Don’t blow it by showing up to the press conference like you just cam from the rodeo. When you got the call from Obama you should have headed to Macy’s and at least bought a new suit and tie. I guess it could have been worse. He could have gone the route of trying to look like he was in touch with today’s youth and wore a white visor and a popped collar polo shirt. Is that even what the kids are wearing these days? I can never tell. Salazar; next time, suit and power tie with a Windsor knot. Dress like Alec Baldwin at the beginning of Glengarry Glenn Ross.

Try to look like you have a handle on this colossal fuck of a country you are about take control over. Is that too much to ask. Don't be an asshole.......the thumbs up? Come on man

CRAIGSLIST CONSPIRACY

So like many, one of my favorite past times is searching the free section of the ol'Craigslist. Hot damn there is some mighty fine stuff that can be found on there, be it a used baby crib, dishware, or an entertainment unit that a dog has been chewing on for the past 12 years. Tonight I figured was just another one of those nights of surfing for useless crap. That was until Skut found himself a set of tools. I agreed to go along for the drive out to pick 'em up and everything seemed pretty kosher. That was until when we arrived at thte address. It was a house located at the tailend of a culdosac. It was pitch black, no tools in sight. We turned the car around to be facing the headlights of an on coming Blazer.

At that point there was a slight hint in the back of my noggin brain that perhap this was all some psycho's plot to lure us in so he could go saw 1-5 on us. No way I was going down like that. I started prepping for my current fight or flight situation, but I looked down at my feet and realized I couldn't do either. I was wearing fucking flipflops. No one can run in flip flops. I don't care who you are. You either end up falling on your face or....well usually you fall on your face if you try to go too fast. Next issue. No one can fight in flip flops. first kick you throw.....flip flop flies off. You're donezo. What that? Take them off you say...no go, gravel road. Gravel roads get stabby on the toesies. At this point I'm mentally defeated. I sit back and prepare to accept the impending death that lay before me. That is until the Blazer keeps going and simply drives past us.

Granted I was glad that I didn't end up on the dinner table of some leather face buffalo bill type, but at the same time, I wonder; is the Craigslist Killer an unknown urban legend? Are there yahoos out there luring young one's in with proverbial candy; tempting the young college girls with an affordable futon only to get them into their lair for BTK fun? This needs to be looked into Burbank P.D. Quit issuing the parking/Jaywalking tickets and get on this Craig killah. He or she mustive taken out at least a handful of people right?

I mean there are hookers: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/05/nyregion/05craigslist.html

Dumb Thieves: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23925847/wid/18298287

This has the makings of a straight to Lifetime movie...who's in?

Day At The Movies (A super hero dog, the holocaust and a lot of heavy breathing.)

Soooo this weekend, the tweens proved who pushes the market these days when Twilight made over 70 million dollars in its first weekend. What with all the hype behind the picture I decided to tack it on to the tail end of a Saturday theater hopping, movie marathon. It started with the family romp, Bolt in 3D, which was needles to say a fun filled 90 minutes. All had in a theater that featured the faint sent of wet diapers and popcorn. Yummy! Yummy is not a word I use much, but I’m using it now. I’ll have to live with that.

The next picture of the day was the holocaust drama, The Boy in The Striped Pajamas. There’s nothing like watching Jews getting slaughtered to kill the happy go lucky buzz that I had acquired from the previous picture. I was having too much fun, I had to take myself down a peg. It’s a standard self-sabotage method that I won’t get into right now. Boy in Pajamas was a good movie though, the only issue was during the opening credits. A friend of mine pointed out that I was the only gentile amongst our movie marathon crew. This being said, he decided to enlighten my catholic self on what the Holocaust was. His description went a little something like this.

So back in the 70’s the Germans were acting all fucked up to the Jews in Europe, so the Jew were like “fuck this noise” and bounced. Then in the 80’s when the Jews went back, they were like, “what the hell dudes?” The Germans were like, “oh my B.” And it was the 80’s so the Jews were to coked up on disco to really care.

I’m laughing at his fucked up interpretation of history, meanwhile the theater screen is flooded with the visual representation of the Nazi regime; swastikas, tanks, military marching, not exactly comic fodder. The lady in front of me kept turning around, trying to figure out what the hell my problem was.
The piece de resistance of this wonderful fun filled afternoon was the emo/tween vampire flick Twilight. After the first 20 minutes where I was laughing out loud at scenes that were supposed to be dramatic. I think this is the first time that I have felt really old. Never have I sat through a movie that was so entirely over my head. For 122 minutes I was in utter confusion. Leave it to a Mormon to make a vampire story devoid of penetration; of both the carnal neck bite and ol’ fashioned fucking variety. Which are really the only two things that make vampire movies interesting. In place of these norms was a good 30 minutes of the heavy breathing and stoic staring. If staring at a girl while breathing heavily actually worked as a pick up method, I wouldn’t be spending my nights writing this blog.

Not only was the movie bad, but the actors involved…what is their deal? Check this interview to see what I mean.

Interview with shit heads

Low and behold their off screen personas are about as stiff as a 13 year old’sgirls nipples during a screening of this ball of shit. Since when are a person’s poor public speaking skills considered mysterious and dreamy?

$70 million….Really? $70 million? Damnit ‘Merica! What the hell? How did we as a people let this happen? There have been good teen/tween movies before. The Harry Potter series has been enjoyable, Pixar regularly pumps out the goods. John Hughes dominated the 80’s with great teen flicks that were very watchable for those outside of the “driving permit” age bracket. Now what do we have? High School Musical, The Jonas Brothers, Twilight and Miley Cyrus. Teen tweens eat this shit up. Our only hope is that a world-wide disaster will take out all the products and the consumers. That’s right; I’m talking about wiping out an entire generation, and it’s entertainers. Insensitive and drastic? Maybe. Completely necessary? Absolutely. Who’s with me?

The Sickness

I came down with a cold last night. That means a few things. First, my work day today was dogshit. I sat in a cold office with uncirculated air, crammed in a cubicle, next to the poor sap that got jammed next to the sick kid and I sniffled all day long. I sounded like a god damn kinder gardener. *type type type, snniiiiifffffff...cough. All day with this shit. But where there is a down, there is an up. First cold of the year means I get to reintroduce my body to God's greatest drug. Nyquil. I get to take something nd in literally 30 minutes pass out. If I'm feeling gee gee I can struggle to stay awake and start acting like a jerk. Good night for now, I'm running up on minute 24 and I still need to brush my teeth. More on this tomorrow.

PARTY PIT

It’s my personal opinion that one hasn’t had the LA experience until a person has done the following. Walk on the beach in Malibu and watch the sun go down, schmooz with the Hollywood types at the Belmont, and then after giving it your best shot at fame… find someone nice and settle down. Gross…I’m pretty sure that this is the ideal for a middle American vacation to the West Coast. In reality the essence of the LA experience is avoiding traffic, cutting down the other guy to get ahead and fucking someone way out of your, all while basking in the presence of those who have had the sun set on their careers long ago. So far I’ve only done two of the four so far and if you’re reading this, I’m sure you’ve caught on that is wasn’t the ones that lead to the success or the sex.
What was supposed to be a night out with friends to see a band unraveled into a series of awkward interactions involving some of Hollywood’s finest has-beens and never-weres. Granted I’ve gone through a total 22 years of life that have amounted to the equivalent of diddely-dick-shit, but at the same time I feel that after these encounters I have as good a right as any to mock these bastards.
The evening started innocent enough. We walked into the house, checked out the scene, and it wasn’t bad. An outdoor stage, a giant BQQ spread, followed by a buffet of liquors and beers…all the kinds. There was even a crystal chalice of weed for those who wanted to partake. Not a bad setup; everything a party needed, except for partygoers. The place was relatively empty for such lavish accommodations. For that I was thankful, I was still sporting my classic Saturday hangover so the mellow scene was enjoyable. It wasn’t until the crowd actually began to show up did things start to get…well LAish. The average age of the party patrons were along the lines of 35-40, clinging to their youth by mostly dressing like 8th grade boys or 80’s hair metal whores.
The first man I encounter was a 300+ pound mafia movie stereotype who went aptly by the name of Fat James. When I said I met him, I mean; when I was getting a hamburger, he made fun of me. “You’re putting tomatoes underneath the patty? The fuck is the matter with you?” “What is that a veggie burger, what are you going fag? This guy!” I a miffed at first; I thought, maybe this a single incident type situation. I’m sure everything is going to be okay. Then when going to get a drink I passed by the “weed chalice” when a man wearing a turtleneck and rocking a ponytail/mustache combination which involved Vanilla Ice like lines, shaved into the sides of his head, tried to explain to me that “It’s all in fun man…it’s all in fun.” What’s all in fun? What the fuck are you talking about turtleneck man? Get your hand off my chest! Just when I thought the party was taking a turn, it found new life when word spread that a contestant from Rock of Love was going to be at the party. Oh goodie!
After that, I got roped into a half hour conversation with a 45 year old man, about his own personal musical journey. First he explained to me who the Beatles were, using his Beatles t-shirt as a reference point, “see this guy here…this is Lennon.” This was followed by an enlightening story on his new concept album about a band of insects who teach children about conflict resolution. He did all of this without ever really looking me in the eye. At least I don’t think he was looking me in the eye. I couldn’t tell due to an oversized, multicolored hemp hat which covered his eye line. I told him I was going to grad another drink, and just bailed on the conversation; leaving him with two unsuspecting patrons. As I turned to leave, his brain must have hit some sort of reset button, he simply turned to the left and the whole scenario began to play out again just with two entirely different people. Those poor, poor bastards.
There was a culmination of San Fernando Valley hell when I saw a scarf doting 65 year old man who looked remarkably like Truman Capote, flirting with the aforementioned Rock of Love contestant. It wasn’t so much that he was flirting with her as her being pretty into it.
All the people in my age bracket found a small corner of the house and posted up. We had our own party, telling jokes and drinking beers. Just kicken it. We lounged on the couches we couldn’t afford and drank the cheap beer that we could. The night finished rather uneventfully; but it got me thinking. Is this what lies ahead? Am I going to be 50 years old, slicking back my male pattern baldness and propositioning Chlamydia laden, reality hoochies? Or will I just be a Chlamydia laden reality hoochie? Is this all that I have to look forward to? God I hope not. If it is, that suicide pact that I made on St. Patricks day a few years back for when I turn 50 could really come in handy. I’ll deal with that road when I get there. For now I’m fine, sitting back and making the most of it. Finding my small corner, and making it happen.

JonBent VACAY

So on my trip across the country out of Boston and into this kick to the face known as Los Angeles, we did a lot of fun stuff. Baseball games, bars, and extravagant truck stops; but nothing compared to visiting one of my favorte pop culture hotspots, Boulder, CO former home of JonBenet Ramsey. Mike and I had some fun.




It's true, she was strangled.




















What you can't see is the house is for sale. I feel bad for the reality agent. I imagine her bringing people in to see the house and them thinking that they've seen it before but can't remember where. If only there was a dead child on the floor, then they would say "oh riiiiiigghhtt". I wish they would put at least a fake body on the ground, if not for nostalgia's sake, at least to boost the home decor. I remember seeing photos back in the day and thinking that it really tied the room together.

God Damnit Carson Daly

Alright, so last week, me and my buddy Ryan found out that Nas was going to be performing a mini concert on the NBC lot in Burbank. This was good news for two reasons. Nas happens to be one of the best rappers alive and Ryan works on the NBC lot so he could get us in with little effort. Ryan scored two passes but there was a small catch to being able to see this little performance, that catch being in order to get into it, we had to sit through a taping of Last Call: with Carson Daly.


One would think that this is a small price to pay in order to see their favorite musician. This would be true in every other circumstance except for this certain one certin occasion. The hype man that warms up the audience for the show was one of those guys who was really happy go lucky guy, but in private with no audience to entertain, he does poppers just to remind himself that he exists.

Anyways, it was this asshole that had the nerve to get up in front of an audience and tell me that Nas isn't coming. But he doesn't say it out right. He just says "Young Jeezy is here!" Now I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, but I do know this. Young Jeezy is not Nas. Not even close to Nas. Oddly enough most of the audience caught on too this as well. Several shouted "what about Nas". No answer. That hype man bastard just stood there with that waxy smile on his face. But he doesn't tell us this until after the taping has begun. That means THERE IS NO ESCAPE. You can't leave the studio aside from shitting you own pants and being escorted out. I don't have that kind of will power.

So we sat through an interview with Jamie Kennedy who was pro moting the program The Ghost Whisperer. A show about Jennifer Love Hewitt and how she talks to ghosts.....this is on television....and now Jamie Kennedy talks to them too. On the next show was that tatted out chick from LA ink, who used to be on Miami Ink but was too much of a bitch to last on that show. So her and Caron babbled about god knows what for five minutes....five jokeless, souless minutes. The only redeeming moment was when Jim Norton sat on stage and talked about Hillary Clinton's vagina, which is entertain for as long as ou don't picture what her vagina looks like. Did you picture it yet? Give it a second........yeah there it is. It really sucks doesn't?

So Nas, I like your stuff. But the whole no show at Carson Daly and making me sit for 3 hours and listen to fucking drivel about Ghost Whisperer and tattoos....for three hours. And then holding out, thinking maybe, just maybe, you would show up on stage, but no. Just Young Jeezy. Just that sad bastard Young Jeezy. Maybe they thought they could stick any rapping black man on stage and people wouldn't know the difference?

(Is this NaS?)











Or is this Nas? Who cares!? Whitey won't know the difference!

So rather than having a fun time and see Nas, I was filled with saddness and anger. Mostly anger. This was heavily due to the fact that I left the show with a Young Jeezy song and the image of Hilary Clinton's Hoo HAA stuck in my brain. God Damn.

Campagin 08 (kill me)

After watching debate number deux deux, I was forced to reflect upon the debates of weeks past. I apologize for the delay, but hey I got a busy schedule and sometimes a man needs to catch up with his on demand. Greedy? Maybe but who gives a shit, Californication and Mad Men are worth it.

So the first debate. all I can say is that if I had to hear the word Pork Barrell spending one more time, I was going to find an actual barrel filled with pork products and drop the fucking thing on my head just so I can get the echo of the candidates' voices out of my head. Despite issues with the economy, most of the first debate focused on Iraq. Quit flashing back to who voted for what when. We all know Iraq was a collasal shit show.

Our economy was the main topic of the debate on Tuesday. Needless to say, it's in the toilet and all these fuckers can do is bitch back and forth about who said what in the past. Fuck you! YOu are both full of shit. The economy is in the toilet due to fucking banking deregulation dating back to the Reagan era. Cancel funding for the arts and decrease regs on big business. Thanks Ronny This ushered in the era of trickle down economics. FYI; that trickle that the middle class is feeling is the champagne laced piss of this country's wealthy, drizzling over their domes.

As usual I'm off track. I want to get back to that idea of deregulation. While Reagan brought with him trickle down economics, he also welcomed the decline of the American product. Supposedly we are one of the richest countries in the world, but how? We don't make anything anymore. Cars..the Japanese. Electronics....fuck also the Japanese, the only thing we seem to produce is cheese and milk. I don't know why, dairy is gross. The real deal is that we have been making our money over the past 2 decades from buying and owning debt. Nothing tangible...just debt. What good is debt if the person or company can't cover the tab.

This is whats gone on with the Liquid Paper Industry (loans not white out), allowing companies to take out hundreds of billions of dollars for short term loans without ever blinking an eye. Thanks to those fucks at AIG, who in their brilliant wisdom, took out a multi-hundred million dollar loan which those silly bitches had no way of paying back. Simply turned their pockets inside out and said "sorry brah...I'm fresh outta cash". The worst part about the whole thing is the government (w/ our tax dollars) are bailing them out. If I took out a loan, and on payday, didn't pay it back...my already bad knees would be made worse by someones louisville slugger.

That may be a drastic comparison but the problem is that the government didn't learn their lesson when the dotcom industry happened. NO REGULATIONS STILL. Business carried on unbothered by the government. No restraint, not even a stop 'n chat just to make sure what thYe were doing was legal. No no no, we can't do that. That wouldn't be free enterprise. So for years corporations were allowed to push paper around and jump through loop holes that would allow them to do things like Netting out (buying shit they didn't have money for) or using Credit Default Swaps (CDS) one of the biggest causes of this crisis. CDS' are when investors could buy and collect insurance on bond they don't even own. If a company or individual knows a company is close to failing, it can pay a 2% insurance on a bond worth 10o times that. WHen that bond fails they can collect the full amount. INSURANCE MONEY ON A BOND THEY NEVER EVEN FUCKING OWNED. If you buy car, I shouldn't be able to buy insurance on YOUR car that is in YOUR name, and when YOU crash it, I get the money. None of this is regulated, CDS does not occur on the open market. To even play ball you have to have at least 5 million is cash. FUCK THAT. All of this is gone into extreme detail in Chicago Public Radio's "This American Life".

And now our tax dollars have to fix their gambling debts and I am not pleased. Worst of all, a story on NPR discussing AIG's nonprofit donations. This company is donating millions of dollars to nonprofits. Tens of Millions. The government is now bailing them out, giving them shit loads. AIG still vows to give this money. This sounds nice but AIG aren't the ones donating the money any more. It's us. OUr tax dollars from the bailout are going to these non profits. Look....I'm all for donating to charities; if you can afford it. AIG can't fucking afford it, hence the whole...you knowwwwwwwwww ECONOMIC CRISIS!

Obama talked about regulation. McCain didn't.

PS. I could talk about Palin but I believe SNL and Bill Mahr and every other comedian have said just about all that needs to be said. I just want to reiterate a few things. Creationism, No Abortion no matter, stands by abstinence only education while having a pregnant 17 year old daughter, hockey mom, gun toting, no experience, the katie couric interview........im tired, peace and grease.

LET's get to camping

Tents are kinda like studio apartments made of nylon. But you have to share a bathroom with your neighbors. That bathroom being the rest of earth.

Wizard of Oz Deuce Deuce aka Why I have a headache

So recently I watched the Return to Oz. An obscure sequel to The Wizard of Oz. All I can say is…..What the hell? How was someone allowed to make this? It was just a combination of weird puppets, vague references towards the book and trippy 80’s sequences of coloration. Being someone that had a childhood where the real Wizard of Oz movie, somehow was on every Thanksgiving like clock work, I have a somewhat fond attachment to the original, despite the fact that I haven’t seen the original film in close to 10 years. Either way. You can’t have a classic American movie and make a sequel. That’s not allowed. That is a “do not pass go” type situation. IF some one brings it up at the meeting, send them out of the meeting without getting a bagel.

But no one stopped these assholes. So we are left with a movie that encompasses everything that sucked about 80’s fantasy cinema. Bad special effects, a shit load of puppets and the girl from The Craft in her freak childhood form. You thought that bitch was freaky in her later years? As a child she looked like Macaulay Culkin with 3 feet of pigtails sprouting from the top of her head and a death stare that can only be equated to the kids from the Village of The Damned. Scary shit. What happened to that chick? She was in the c raft and then The Waterboy, and then nothing. What happened?

The entire the time that movie slaps anyone who’s seen the original right in the face. As if to say, “remember all those childhood memories you have of this movie? Too bad, I’m gonna throw your memories in a bag and piss all over it. After that I’ll light the fucking bag on fire. That’s what I think of your memories you little bitch! You’re a grown ass man, what are you doing watching The Wizard Oz 2 anyways?” At least that’s how I see that conversation going.

I think the major problem I had with the piece of shit movie is the fact that I tried to reason with it. Attempting to take a rational mind into the viewing of an 80’s fantasy flick. That was like jumping on a grenade. I had good intentions, in reality I was totally fucked. If you do that sort of thing you end up giving yourself a headache trying to figure out, “how it would be possible that a couch with a moose head tied to it could fly simply by pouring a can of Ajax onto it? What the hell? Then you just stat screaming, “That rock is talking!! Fuck me, why the fuck am I watching this? Is it because these women are watching it with me? It must be…it has to be.” Next thing you know your inner monologue has been going on for about a half an hour and you’re not quite sure how you ended up in at the liquor store. However when you do get there you think “hey maybe I could go for some Old English, I bet it will stop the dogs from barking in my head”. And now you know, the rest of the story.

VP lady

Wow.
So I guess that John Mccain rather than going with a VP with experience and know how went with pure Eye candy. His wife is already a slamin' older lady but I guess he just neded that much more. A sexy mother of five.

But she's fully qualified to be the second in command of this country right? I mean she was the president of her PTA. Then became the mayor of a town of 6,500 people in bumble fuck nowhere Alaska; a state which is located in bumble fuck nowhere and for the past 2 years she has been the Governor of said bumble fuck state. Can someone explain how this prepares someone to be the Vice President?At first announcement of "Sarah Palin" as McCain's VP, I'm pretty sure everyone in the country said "Sarah Who?".

What makes this whole thing hard to swallow is the fact that after Barack Obama gives a rousing speech that captured the attention of America, I mean it did have more viewers than both The Oscars and the last episode of American Idol (over 38 million watched the thing), McCain needed to shake it up a bit. Why not choose a former Beauty Pageant runner up as his VP?
(2nd place Miss Alaska......Wasn't quite pretty enough)



Right before the announcement "Someone" thought it would be OK to buff up Palin's Wikipedia...an attempt at making her look legitamite perhaps? I think so. Would have gotten away with it to if it weren't for those meddling kids over at Wikipedia. The whistle blower was actually himself a McCain supporter. Thats some integrity.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94118849


Now she's not just a former beauty pageant, a right wing christian nut job who is so Pro life that not even in instances of RAPE or INCEST is abortion allowed. Even with all her christian values instilled upon her 5 kids, the 17 year old Bristol is pregnant. Bristol is a bit of a weird name but not as bad as this baby's father "Levi".
(Palin's thoughts on teen pregnancy: "It's Neato"

All this leads me to think....lady what the hell are you doing in DC? You can't even control your kids? How will you control something like a country?

The Generational Douche

You ever notice how in television and the movies how amazing women always find themselves attached to fucking losers, a very original observation I know. Anyhow, I recently have taken up the on demand feature on my TV and discovered Mad Men.
Great show, but for some odd reason the douchiest character, Campbell, has the privilege of the most attractive and understanding girlfriend. It works like this is real life, not just in television and movies.

Said "Mad Men" dill face

How many times have you been out on the town and seen some goombah dumb shit with his arm wrapped around someone lovely? Too fucking many. Like, I’m talking so many you puke in your mouth on a regular basis when you leave the house, the streets of Boston teem with this nonsense. The same goes within your circle of friends. Everyone has that one friend who no matter how much of a rat bastido he is, no matter how childish, rude, inconsiderate, even prickish he can be, somehow.....somehow!! He has the woman of YOUR dreams!!
This has been going on for years their personalities remain the same but the threads have changed. It's like each generation of douche had their own uniform, you’ve just got to be able to spot them. I could say that it all started back when one cave man had the cooler loin cloth but I want to get down to brass tax. We need to flash forward to the post WWII era of the 50’s.


"I used to beat up nerds in this fuck the nerds. Revenge of the nerds would totally never happen in real life"


In the 50’s all you needed was a letterman’s jacket and you were the official hot shit of your school. Add in a false sense of entitlement and you got yourself the makings of a full blown jerk-off. All stemming from a sweater…..Whod’a thunk it?
The 60’s was a bit of a continuation for the original fashion ass-hats. The y could choose to go with 60’s in was the black IBM power suit where you landed the straight laced girl or you were the tie die jobless dip shit hippie that, despite the fact that you neglected to shower within the past 3 weeks and smells like the underside of a dick. EWWWW yo!!! Ewww!!! Ewww!!! All those germs!! Hippie man germs and Hippie lady germs!!! Mixing! Together! Swapping the BO!! That shit has a blast radius you know? Can’t you smell that? Are you oblivious to the smell. You people come around me with that odor and I feel like I’ve been infected with something.

"When this guy gets dressed; the order is socks, then the t-shirt, then the sandals. Underwear never comes into the equation"

In the 70’s you had the leisure suit. What the hell is the story behind that thing? The worst of it though was that polyester jacket mismatched with the plaid pants. Just because the astronauts used polyester doesn’t mean people here on earth should touch the stuff. And it wasn’t just the douchehats that dressed bad in the 70’s. I’m pretty sure that was just the M.O. of the 70’s dress poorly and success will soon follow.
In the 80's it was the jerk-offs with the Members Only Jackets who waltz around the club until they see some girl that has had one to many. So they go through the ol’ routine of Step 1) Put the GHB away, she’s already drunk enough. Step 2) Pop the collar on the polo shirt and straighten the skinny tie (the current trend of collar popping must have been carry over from the 80’s). Step 3)Walk up to some other guys date and feed here some cute, clever line like “hey you hot bitch”. Next thing she knows she’s pregnant with some hate breed child.



It’s current form is still the pop collar douche bag but know it’s usually accompanied with a with the new era hat with the stickers stuck to the bill. He usually walks around spouting some bullshit about BET’s song of the week. Nas was right Hip Hop is dead, and it’s people like this that killed it. I feel like if you handed one of these guys a Talib Kweli album they would say, “This is good but dude have you heard Rick Ross?”. Why can’t we all just listen to Ready To Die on loop?


"Dude.....if I flex any harder i'll shit"

We need to flash into the future where everyone just wears identical silver space suit space suits. Seinfeld pointed out “IT’s like everyone got together and decided. We’re going with the silver jumpsuit and the boots”. Simplicity is the key people.
So in essence everyone, fuck fashion. Avoid the possibility of looking like an asshole. Fellas, keep it simple. T-shirt and jeans, you can never go wrong. Same goes for you ladies. SIMPLICITY. Cut down on the accessories. What is that anyway? It like you guys are trying to bedazzle your arms and legs. But hey…if you want to throw on a black skirt and some fishnets every now and then, who am I to stop you?

Stealing: A National Phenomenon of Fun

Some of my fondest memories from my past revolve around, theft. While being illegal can always being kind of funny. There was a point in my life where I would just take shit…well just because. Being 13 and taking a bag of skittles from the local shop mart was a bit of a thrill. Then it became taking used videotapes from Hollywood video cause I didn’t have the cash to rent anything. The only problem was, while we were getting the movies for free, the selection of films that were within the stealing grasp were what some would say, lacking in quality. While we could have just pooled our cash and rented something half-way decent, we instead opted for the snatch and run free rental of masterpieces such as “Idle Hands”. Oh Devon Sawa; what happened to thee? This kind of thing was common place back in the day, just dicking around, being little bastards. You can’t judge, we had to get our kicks somehow, I mean we had yet to discover alcohol and Xbox 360 hadn’t even been invented yet, what were we supposed to do?
After I started working and had a semi steady paycheck, casual theft took a back seat. All except the sneaking into the movies. It’s weird that I go to college for film, but hate paying to see them. But who cares? Charging $10.50 for Jackass the Movie Part 2 is fucked. The real success when sneaking into the movies is pulling the multi-feature.. The art of scampering into another theater after your initial picture show has reached it’s end. One of the greatest multi feature experiences I ever had involved Beerfest (funny when it’s free), Miami Vice (still sucks even if you don’t pay for it), and Little Miss Sunshine (a movie which I enjoyed so much I actually returned to the theater and paid to see it again), Saving righteous bucks and having a good time while doing it. Now back to the real topic, stealing stuff.
As I got older it lost its thrill. Taking shit didn’t matter much any more, I mea I had a job cause and could easily afford a pack of candy unlike my 13 year old douche bag self. I had lost the taste for one of my favorite past times. That was until my second semester in college. I had just moved to the city of Boston and enrolled at Emerson College. I had a small shitty apartment and zero money. So my parents got me on the College’s “Commuter Meal” plan. 50 all you can eat trips to the dining hall and some “EC cash” all for the low low price $700 dollars, Jesus Christ it hurts to type that. Don’t these people know how bad the economy is!?!. This is just one of the many examples of how Emerson takes money. The worst part about the whole situation is what I found out while eating this shitty dining hall food. A portion of that $700 isn’t even paying for services rendered,. Some of MY goes to simple cover OTHERS theft. I sat there thinking I’m paying for shit that gets stolen? What the fuck? I need to get my fair share then, I’m entitled to start stealing shit. Over night my apartment’s kitchen was stocked with silverware, plates, cereal, napkin dispensers, cold cuts, all of it. Fuck the grocery store, I could just my little card and walking into the cafeteria with a back pack full of Tupperware and plastic bags and go to town. What did I care, fuckin’ school with their hidden fee’s and musical theater majors and hippies and hipsters and…..I’m off topic. What I’m trying to say is for me it was a small personal bonus that I got to steal shit again and at the same time shake my fist at the school establishment. Then one night at a party I discovered a whole new type of steal which reinvigorated my love for the game.
On a Saturday night prior to going out a buddy and I decided to go out to a party. To this day, I have no idea who’s party it was or why we were there but all I know is I found myself in the kitchen of an apartment located somewhere in the Fenway neighborhood owned by someone I’d never met. Very drunk at this point I just started wonderin’ around. That was when I saw it. It stared at me with those little black eyes, like it had been expecting me all evening. I knew right then and there that I had to have it. The “it” I’m referring to was a 6 inch tall Plastic bear filled with honey. I don’t know why I needed it, I just did. I snatched it off the shelf and walked into the living room to find my friend. I was caring the bear as if it were a drink on a martini tray, balancing it ever so carefully. The honey bear had become my precious. I walked up to my friend and presented him with what I had found. He looked at it and laughed. I told him “I’m taking this little bitch”. He then said then he said, “Well are you just going to take him or are you going to make a tradsie”. He was joking but I thought, why not trade. So I went into my bag which we had packed our booze in and looked around for something to trade. After a few minutes of searching I found something. A salt shaker. I immediately ran back to the pantry where I had found my new friend and placed the salt shaker in his absent spot. There was nothing else on this self where the honey bear had been so the salt shaker stood tall like a tiny Washington Monument….if it were filled with salt.
For the rest of the night little Honey bear sat in my front shirt pocket. I don’t think I have ever had my picture taken so many times in one night. Maybe prom night but, unlike my date, the people I was in the photos with actuality we actuality excited to be in them. Who wouldn’t want a photo of a weird dude with a Honey bear in his front pocket? Probably most sober people but that’s beside the point. I’m sure somewhere out there on this crazy interweb there are dozens of facebook photos tagged as Steve smith with “Weird Honey Bear guy”. Personally I’m fine with that. It’s like an alter ego.
The next morning I woke up face down on my couch only to look up at the coffee table to see that little eyed bastard staring back at me. I had a pounding headache, the little bear brought a smile to my face. Then I threw up. That night a new hobby was born, a hobby which I still enjoy today. The ol’ party swap. I realize that this is childish, some would even call stealing from strangers a little wrong, but damnit its harmless and funny. If I’m going to a party where I know absolutely no one I’ll bring a little something. A GI Joe, a bottle of Hot sauce, maybe even a VHS copy of The Sandlot 2, really any random thing that I won’t miss. Once at the party for a bit, I’ll wait or everyone to get a little drunk and then start scoping the place out. Nothing of any value, just an equal trade of uselessness. My only hope is that the next morning some one wakes after their drunken slumber to see that VHS copy of Sandlot 2 and smiles…then they question where the fuck their box of baby wipes went.

My Take On Politics (If you can't catch you can't be president)

So down in the South End of Boston there has been an occurrence of posters featuring a blend of the faces of Abraham Lincoln and Barrack Obama. Pretty cool. But is it fair? Can we really compare these dudes? I mean Obama, as much as I like the guy, I still don’t really have a clear view of what his plan is for this country and not to mention, he hasn’t even been elected yet! Is it fair to compare him to the man who has become known as one of the greatest presidents of all time? Who knows? What this picture really does is fulfill what all of us already knew to be true. Barack would look fabulous with a beard…..Absolutely fabulous

Sort of a Andy Warhol kinda thing, right?

I guess the times are a changing and stuff, which is a good thing but the problem is I have that jaded few towards polotics that I feel that everyone who has sat the through the past to elections feels. That feeling being, who gives a fuck, we're all fucked anyways. I watched Al Gore lose....sort of. I saw John Kerry fumble the election worse than this football pass
Doink

Wow wait....there are so many John Kerry Football Pics.


Like this one....

And this one......

And even this one....You would think that a man who was running for president in this day and age would be a bit more self aware. How are his eyes always closed?

I know it's not football but I really couldn't resist. God the democrats threw out a douche that time around. Worst part is fact that this douche lives like 12 blocks away and all I want to do is egg his house. A very mature action in my opinion. Barack has done pretty well a keeping himself in the coolness with a little stutter step on Ellen.
But who cares...the man can definitely shuffle with the best of 'em. Maybe he is the man for change. He decided to do the electric slide on a lesbian's talk show. Progressive? I think so. An why shouldn't he be. He the first real black candidate for president, he can do whatever he pleases. I like him so far. I'll probably keep liking him. I mean my only other option is John Mccain and well.....I don't care for that little man....or his unreasonably attractive for her age wife.

If it's one issue all of America can agree upon it's that we need more GILFs on Capitol Hill, and in the mainstream media.....and in general. What I'm trying to say is I'm pro GILF. Anyways, Go Barrack and go Mrs. McCain! Call me you hot piece republican booty!

I think Iran's gone Crazy!!!!

Alright kids, so the Iranian missile tests....wahts the story with this shit. They are trying to play it cool by continuing the claims that their nuclear program is just for kicks and energy and all that "safe" stuff nuclear research is capable of. But then they have to go and start testing long range missles in broad day light. Missles with a range of over 1,200 miles where as Tel Aviv rests just under 750 miles from Iran's borders. What kind of message does that send? Personally I think the message is "I'll blow you all to hell if I want to". Frankly I think that President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is trying to compensate for something. Figurativly and in actuality. On Wednesday the Iranian media released this photo of 4 missiles being launched into the sky.


But turns out one of those suckers did go up. So the hit the ol' photoshop to fix that. Damn are they good with that shit too. Didn't even occur to me that it might be a fake. But low and behold Tursday morning I'm presented with this.


Whooopths! If your going to screw around with Photoshop guys, you got to make sure to destroy the original evidence Okay? This is a concept that seems to always bite people in the ass. But whattaya gonna do? Israel is up in arms, American Admiral s are weighing on the odds of an attack on Iran and how it would really ruin our whole "we got it under control" attitude towards the globe. I just sit and listen to al this and wonder if I should even plan ahead further than a couple of months. I go to collge for writing and film. But who needs entertainment when we can look forward CNN war coverage of Iraq and Afghanistan, and eventually China, Iran, North Korea......the list goes on. And damn if it isn't depressing.

The stuff

Ladies and Gents the comp was acting wonky so now Im back and better than ever with a sparkly laptop. Hopefully we can get some things done. Right now I'm watching a little Micheal Clayton. I recomend it to anyone especitally now since Pollack is no longer with us. A real bummer. Anyways, later gators.

The first of Hopefully many

Alright ladies and germs, here's the deal, I used to keep a journal hand written in the mead, but lets face it, I've got to step into the digital era. After a class in college assigned blog entries I found that I enjoyed the experience of "blogging" so I might as well keep it rolling. I'm going to use this thing to speak my thoughts, ideas and or complaints. Writing this sort of thing has been somewhat therapeutic so I'm hoping to get this stuff off my chest and maybe entertain anyone who reads at the same time. The first blog is going to be an entry from my other blog, a drinking game dedicated to my favorite "mindfuck" drama Lost. Enjoy....


The beer of the game is Foster's due to the flight leaving from Australia. Or if you know the episode you are about to watch is about Desmond, honor the man and play with a Bottle of J&B Scotch Whiskey. You'll have more fun and lets face it the Desmond ep's are the bet anyways.

Arbitrary rule, Harmonize the Lost sound at the Title sequence, cheers then drink.

1. To start off the game when the episode starts the first person to prank call a person using only the numbers within the Vantezetti equation 4-8-15-16-23-42, and quote your favorite lost line, everyone is exempt from shotgunning a beer.

example (815) 416-2342

Hello?
"I looked into the eye of the Island....and it was beautiful"
What?
"WHOOOOO" (hang up)

2. Every time Juliette stares blankly, a staring contest becomes in affect, who ever breaks the stare first needs to drink.

3. Every time Sawyer uses a nickname (freckles, Chewy, Doc) drink. (If you wanna kick it up a notch take a shot of Jim Beam).

4. Every time Sun speaks Korean or Jin speaks English Take a drink.

5. Once Hugo says dude for the first time in an episode, everyone in the room must refer to anyone else watching with you as dude until Hugo says dude again. If you break the rule take a drink. Same goes for Desmond and his go to phrase "Brotha".

6. If Sayid or Jack skeptically raise their eyebrows, everyone in the room must do so as well. First to drop their brows takes a drink.

7. Anytime there is a reference to the hatch, everyone one in the room places a hand on the ground. Last to do so takes a drink.

8. All sarcastic comments. (if made by a male character men in the room drink, if made by a female character, well ladies it's your turn).

9. If anyone sees a Dharma Logo Everyone must bow and say "Namaste", referencing the ending of the Dharma Training video. Last to do so takes a drink.

10. Anytime Ben weirds you out, and he will, Drink.

11. If John Locke says something that doesn't make sense, later in the episode where you find out what he was talking about, drink.

12. Anytime we flash back (or forwards) drink. If you wanna make it interesting again, due to the shows possible issues regarding being stuck in time, last person to make a Back to The Future quote drinks.

13. If you have a "mindfuck" ending, and you probably will, chug a beer.


Enjoy kids.