Do you have completely irrational fears? Not like a fear of being trampled to death at a Miley Cyrus concert or a fear of the moon falling into the Earth, because while those are odd fears and highly unlikely to happen, they are plausible. I am talking about fears that defy logic and reality. I am about to share one of mine with you and it all started on a summer day in the year 1985 when my Uncle Nat introduced me to the movie, Jaws.
I can’t think of a single movie that had that much of an effect on me. Going to the beach every summer always had a shadow of a shark looming in my head and I was content to just make sand castles for my micro-machines, drink Ecto Cooler Hi-C and get grit in my mouth from eating Doritos with sandy fingers. But when I was told to go rinse off, that music, oh that music started in my mind and I was ever so quick to get in and get out while other kids played in the surf. No surf fun for me. I saw what happened to Alex Kintner.
Since that fateful day in 1985 I have had this lurking unease that a giant great white shark could appear at most any body of water to include lakes, ponds, SWIMMING POOLS, jacuzzis, baths, really hard rains, full sinks and toilets. I even had a dream that there was a free-floating shark roaming around my house and I had to hide in the fridge to escape being eaten. Then Rue McClanahan showed up and things got weird but that’s for another post. I need to stay focused.
Even today as a rational, working and (maybe) intelligent adult, I still get an unease that somewhere there is a swimming devil that wouldn’t mind chewing me up. This plagues my soul and got me thinking. Have you ever read the Stephen King book, Mist? I might be mistaken but essentially the military accidentally opens up a…something, and all these horrid creatures come out and kill people in the worst ways imaginable. What if (stay with me here) a parallel universe crossed with ours and air-breathing great white sharks that can fly showed up and could hide and attack when least expected! I seriously have thought about this. And I think it would look very much like this:
It has been nearly a week since my last post and it has felt like a month. I swear this January has been the longest span of time since the time I watched Valentines Day. So much has happened and yet it feels like time has slowed somehow. I thought that being busy meant time goes fast? The other day at work I think I witnessed a glitch in the matrix and saw the same person leave their cubical twice without going back. But really I think it’s the cold meds because some jacka-douche gave me a cold. Can January suck any harder? Wait…retract that. It’s not February yet. January can still be a dick.
I have no idea what to write about besides maybe doing a review of one of my favorite Creep Show movie chapters that will always go down as a lesson that hitting a hitchhiker and not reporting it may come back to bite you in the end. Or maybe not to hitchhike. Perhaps don’t cheat on your husband? Maybe , you should buy a Mercedes because they can take a beating. I don’t know, but if you’re going to Dover, then you should probably fly.
Just like how every Creep Show movie installment begins, we start with a comic picture turned to real-life and we soon learn that a couple is just waking after what seemed to be like quite an episode of adult paddy cake to learn that the digital alarm clock is blinking 12:00 and that could only mean that the power is out. No big deal to most but we soon learn the lady had PAID for sex with a young banker/jiggalo and she needed to be home at 11:30 on the dot or Hell of Gozarian would come down on her from her husband.
We see they are negotiating price which is a weird turn of the tables to such a negotiation of goods. Apparently six orgasms are worth $150. (Is this true?) And he is well on his way to his own new Mercedes if he keeps preforming.
One can’t help to notice over the right shoulder of male whore #1 or what my species calls “the fucking man” is a copy of a Stephen King novel. Way to be subtle Mr. King. What is next? A cameo of you doing some sort of blue collar job? I am sure you will think of something that will cause the director to want to hit his dick into a an angry humming bird nest.
Well, $150 bucks passed and the lady is on the road to drive twenty miles in seven minutes. She talks to herself. A lot. She jokes about the excuses she will come up with and even rationalized that $150 for six orgasms is a heck of a deal and her husband would absolutely agree, economically, she was wiser for it. She gets her story straight but an allusive cigarette flips from her fingers and she looses control of her car. Seems plausible, especially when this guy is in the way…
Juke left!!! Too late. This poor guy was hitching to Dover but instead ended up a Mercedes bumper trophy and in all honesty, his positioning kind of deserved it. Who hitches on a blind curve?
'The quarterback IS toast!"
Daaaaaaamn…there goes you’re accident forgiveness policy with Allstate. This might be hard to explain. Unless you say fuck it and take off.
Und she did.
Remember when I asked when a cameo with Stephen King would show up? Here he is and boy he looked as stupid as his original character in the first Creep Show when he turned into a stereo-voiced grass creature. (never put your fingers in your mouth) This time he is a truck driver that happens upon the remains of what the lady did to the Dover-bound hitch-hiker. Stephen makes it a point to say he is a black guy. Truuuuuuuuue.
Meanwhile, the typical bad driver is having a moral dilemma about having left the scene of the crime and debates whether or not to turn herself in. She comes to grips that she killed someone but is worried what will become of her. Rationality sets in and she chalks it up to an accident so why ruin her life too. It totally makes sense. I have had this inner debate when I ran over a squirrel last year.
But after she began to feel a little bit better, she passed a familiar person. (the squirrel didn’t do this) Slamming on the brakes she looked in the review mirrior and much to her shock, the dead guy is still in need of a ride to Dover. Fudge.
“Thanks for the ride, lady!” Now this is the kind of dude that rubs me the wrong way. It’s one thing to ask and it’s totally different to demand. She did what she had to and rolled up the window, shriek, drive like an asshole and piss her blue leather seats. It is precisely the same thing I would have done.
The funny thing about this whole story is it takes place from the passenger’s side of a 1986 Mercedes and we never even think about it. Had this been any other movie we would have been like, “God, when will she get out of the car and do something?” Here, it’s like Hogan’s Heroes and instead of a Sherman battle tank of WWII we have a German luxury car. Is this irony? I’m confused now.
So, unable to shake the dead “stage five clinger” from her car she decides to DRIVE THROUGH THE WOODS and strip him from the roof. A really good idea in a Range Rover but this might void the warranty on a 86′ Mercedes. Theory. Surprisingly the car does just fine as she maneuvers through dense Maine forrest at night. I know.
The guy really needs this ride! Soon the detour works and the dead Dover-bound fella can’t hold his grip against a thick low hanging tree branch and she finds her way out of the forrest, onto a road where she does a typical horror movie thing.
She stops to collect her thoughts. Anyone who has seen a horror flick knows that when you are being chased by something that should be dead, there has to be time to stop, turn your back on the said thing, and collect yourself. Other wise we wouldn’t have scenes like this:
Jumpin’ Jesus, he will not drop the “need a ride” thing! This time, however, she has a little help from a .38 she has hid in the glovebox and puts a barn door in his chest. Twice. And twice in the head. I am starting to like this lady.
Oh yeah, and she backs up into him, runs him over and then drives back over him just to be sure. Check that, I am starting to love this woman.
It appears that she and her severely mangled Mercedes have gotten the best of the persistent hitch-hiker and she is well on her way to explain to the husband why a tree, blood splatter and a sign to Dover are all crammed in the grill. Her sigh of relief brings more self-discussion as she imagines what the auto repair technical will say. “Just six thousand dollars and it will be just like you drove it off the showroom floor.” But soon this happens. As we predicted.
Come on! Now tell me I am wrong but doesn’t this sound like one of those Scary Stories books Alvin Schwartz wrote with a third-grade climactic ending? “You killed me”? Really? Well, it is to the point although a tad drab. This would have been a prefect time to take this comedy to a new level. He should have held a sign stating “You’re a quart low” or “Is there something in my teeth besides your car?” Ha! Oh, the possibilities.
Loos like it’s time to take this car off road again.
This time she bashes the guy into a tree four times, ending with a knockout blow to herself against the steering wheel as she collapses stating, “that’ll cost you”. I am not sure but after all that road damage this might be the final end to a fine automobile.
Nope! She wakes up and drives the car out of the woods and through the neighborhood, coasting into the garage in worse shape than the Family Truckster.
This was totally a deer. That’s what I would say. As Delia would say, “..a little gasoline, a blowtorch. No problem!”. Her insurance adjuster might disagree though.
Oh what could possibly happen? Could it be a Friday the 13th ending or could it be a Deliverance ending?
How about both! He finally got his ride. Not to Dover though and to be honest, he looks a little beat up from the trip. With an eyeball here and a tongue over there, he crawls out from underneath the car and like a gentleman he thanks her for the ride.
And chokes the shit out of her! We all knew she couldn’t live with hitting this guy. One way or another, she would pay for it. So what is the moral of the story? Is it not to cheat on a spouse? Prostitution is a bad thing? Greed can lead to hard times? Killing someone and then driving away is wrong?
No.
Buy a Mercedes Benz because those things can take a beating and still get you home. With or without a hitch-hiker.
Alright, the holidays are over. Christmas did what it does every year and that is sneak up behind me, steal my wallet, put 1500 miles on my car, gets me out of shape, pissy and then before I know it I am back in my office wondering why I got so excited about it to begin with. And next year, the same will probably happen. But 2011 didn’t go quietly into the night. Let me catch you up.
What you are looking at above is me, hard at work supplying all facilities with the latest and greatest medical technologies. I have been hard at work in this position for a while and so far, love it. I know you can’t tell by my expression but being an account exec does have its rewards. Let me explain.
Trying to help older people understand the web or applications is a lot like explaining the steps how to DVR Happy Days to your cat when you are out-of-town; it takes a long time and when you come home you can be certain that the Fonz will not be in your future. Older Doctors know a lot about the world of medicine but the when it comes to web applications they make a face much like I do when someone asks me if I know what a Kardashian is. “I don’t understand the question and I refuse to answer it.”- Lucile Bluth
People come and people go in life. I have learned through extinct relationships that going separate ways doesn’t require screaming and lamp throwing. It’s important to know what you want, understand that not everyone is perfect, appreciate the ones who enter your life and appreciate the ones who left even more. So, for now, being a single guy who works sixty hours a week fits well. Like my late great-grandmother said to me when we visited years ago, “…if you are a monkey, be a monkey. Let the zebras have their stripes. Just be a good monkey.” I remember that as though it was yesterday. And after that advice my grandmother took me to Burger King. What a great day.
I’ve finally planted here. While I look for a nice house to finally buy, I will be hanging my hat here and hosting a lot of VeggieMacabre.TV at that bar…thing…it. With about five thousand invested into Ikea and some art from Final Girl, this place will do just fine. I will also get to use my green screen and host the show from space or Newark!
Looks like Alton Brown and I have buried the hatchet. By finding a common bond with flying I soon forgot the present he signed for me a few years ago. In case you don’t know I received a signed copy of his first book. I was ecstatic until I read his message.
Okay, that was a pretty good one. Girl:1 Will:0
I went up north again for Christmas and every year I say it’s the last time but then November comes and I find myself committing to the madness. But, it’s family and sacrificing some time to remind yourself why you live so far away is good for the soul. Also, I get more quality time with Uncle Mark. He is an amazing dude. Although, he drives like a fuckin’ nutcase! Also, he is best friends with the Indian couple that run a Dunkin Donuts. It’s a weird match but at least we had a place to dump the discarded wrapping paper that night!
Well, that’s a quick catch up and I did so in less than 750 words! I thought for sure I would ramble for 3,000. Lucky for you.
I will leave you with a picture from 1983 at my grandmother’s when I was much smaller, Dad’s mustache was much bigger and the world was a lot more fun. I was downloading this picture to Photobucket and the lady behind me asked if this could get any cuter.
Here is another beer review from the guy who beat his furniture to his new place. So, when you can’t sit on anything and there is no cable, internet, you read all your books and know no one….drink a beer and talk about it. To who? Why, you of course!
This is a topic I have been meaning to write about for years but for some reason or another, I find myself in February before I can. So today, while it is still relevant, I want to write about candy canes. And not the ones we grew up with…
…but the candy canes that truly are candy. I believe Lifesaver candy was the first shot over the bow of Christmas to tell peppermint to get bent. But this bold and progressive move against holly-jolly opened the flood gates and soon other candy makers began to take their goodies, shape them into canes, package them in boxes and ship them to the stores for a 200% profit. How they didn’t jump on this back in the 1950’s when most teenagers still believed in Santa and a desk could stop a nuclear blast, I don’t know. But they are here now, and for twenty bucks I’m going to review them.
As you can see, I have made an Imperial Star Destroyer out of the boxes of candy canes that are about to be reviewed. I will admit, the color spectrum is quite festive and it almost seems a shame to take them out of the box and chew them up. But this site isn’t a photography sight (no shit) and I am less of a guy to stop and gaze at beauty so let’s bust them out.
So I have or tried to remove all the candy canes from the boxes. The Sour Patch Kids did not fare too well but as a guy in his thirties I no longer feel the need to suck my candy cane into a shanking weapon so broken or not, they eat the same to me. You will also notice that these have been labeled and displayed to easy choosing. I did, however, forget to segregate them by flavor. Aw fuck. Oh well, I’ll be surprised.
First! Okay, here we have Jolly Rancher Candy Canes and these appear to be the “Smoothie” edition. Interesting. They come in three flavors being strawberry, mixed berry and watermelon. I am only trying a couple flavors in this review because in all honesty, I have no sweet-tooth. If given the choice between a candy cane and a dry two-day-old triscuit that may or may not have been on the kitchen floor, I would most likely choose the latter. But what the hay, it’s Christmas and if you have been reading this site for any length of time then you know my reviews hold zero weight.
For all those who think that I am eating every variety in whole, this is a no. I have wrestled these out of their insanely tight wrapping and broken a tip off because…why do you think? Exactly. This particular candy cane is most definitely watermelon. If you can’t tell watermelon in taste, you have something seriously wrong with all six senses. I can most definitely taste the Jolly Rancher though the “smoothie” part is a miss on me. It is just sweeter and less sour than a normal watermelon Jolly Rancher is. (8 out of 10 Tim Allen fat suits)
Starburst Candy Canes. I have a bone to pick with these. Green Apple is not a flavor in the original Starburst line. Out of all the winning flavors in the lineup, why did they choose a nonexistent flavor? It confuses me much the same as why the Peanut gang are in different costumes for all recent Charlie Brown Halloween merchandise. It’s a stretch by comparison but the nerve is the same. So I’m not going to try the green apple. I am going with the strawberry flavor because I need to see if these candy canes are indeed the same as the glorious taffy originals. And holy shit they do!!! I am more of a cherry and orange Starburst fan but I will never leave a pink one for last. This is a pleasant surprise. I can’t vouch for the green apple because, what would I compare it to? (8 out of 10 Moose Mugs)
Gobstoppers have always been a mystery to me. I think it’s the name. According to the source of all things true, Wikipidia, the term “gob” means “mouth” in the United Kingdom. (Guise, is this true?) Therefore, a gobstopper must mean to stop one’s mouth. And…I learned something today. Anyway, Gobstoppers were never my first choice as a kid but I did fill a paintball gun with some and had minor success at making a kid cry about twenty years ago.
Oh, the candy canes you asked? Meh. I chose the white one just out of curiosity.
Call me gross if you must, but doesn’t this remind you of a baby tooth just recently lost? It’s the only thing I can think of once I cracked this piece off. Perhaps it’s strange irony but this should be a foretelling of tooth decay to come. The taste? It’s fruit punch. Most definitely fruit punch. (7 out of 10 Narwhals)
These are the ones I have been dying to review. Sour Patch Kids have been the candy of choice every time I go to the movies and a box of these can certainly burn all taste away for a solid week. I also like to share them with friends and press that little spot between the jaw and the bottom of the earlobe. Try it next time your eating these. You’ll hate it.
I tried to make sure that all the boxes of candy canes were purchased without damage but I believe these floppy cocks were shoved in the box the same way Lenny pets a mouse. But like I said, I am not here for looks. It’s the similarity to the original that I am here to review.
They are sour, there’s no argument with that but as for the similarity? Not really. They are Lifesaver candy canes dipped in Sour Patch Kid sour…sugar…stuff. It’s exactly what I expected so therefor I will only give it an average grade. (7 out of 10 Figgy Puddings)
Spree! I love the name. Spree candy canes promise to have a “flavor kick” on the inside much like the original candy that tastes like Advil on the outside and a powdery sour mix on the inside. Between the 500% of daily sugar intake and the fact these are hard candies, it makes Spree a dental nightmare. To combat this Willy Wonka adds that thse are fat free candies. So we have that going for us!
These are pretty good. I am not going to lie that of all the candy canes, these have come out close to the top only because they are not absurdly sweet and sour. I’m an ordinary average guy so there for these will get an above average average grade. (9 out of 10 Bumpus Hounds)
Well it’s nice to see someone hasn’t forgotten the mint in a candy cane! I love these! As an addict of coffee and tea, I have the need to brush my teeth five times a day. What? I don’t know why I needed to say that. Oh yeah! This has a great coffee-like taste to it and sure enough, it’s a spectacular stir stick! Hershey does a great job with the “less is more” angle and if you like mint in your stick and enjoy chocolate too, this candy cane is for you. Damn, I need to write jingles. (10 out of 10 ill-digested potato or beef resulting in a hallucination of the ghost of Jacob Marley)
Last but not least we have come to Sweetart Candy Canes and the ones that look most similar in color scheme to the intro to Saved By The Bell. Like most other assorted candy canes, these come in a variety of flavors being cherry, green apple and blue punch. I choose you, Blue! Pika! Pika!
These are just like what I had imagined. What a shocker. They are mildly sour and that stays through duration of eating. I like them but in all honesty, a 13 year old’s pallet is what these things were designed for. Without a lot of fanfare I will end this review on an average grade. (8 out of 10 shoeless John McLanes)
So there you have it! These aren’t your traditional peppermint candy canes and some don’t quite taste like their original form but I like the spirit of them. This is the time of year to get a cavity or two, gain a couple of pounds or even suck a cane to a sharp point and stab those terrible inflatable lawn ornaments across the street that you’ve been staring at for the past month. These are all good things so be good for goodness sakes…somebody’s comin’! Somebody’s comin’! Wait, that was from Ghostbusters.
Sorry for the lack of Christmas posts. I am getting a better laptop because this one sounds like the truck/generator that Arnold filled with explosives, lifted off it’s stand and pushed into an enemy tent in the movie, Predator.
Casserole of Disaster 