It’s Christmas Time Already?

What? When did this happen? I am not going to say that I don’t like it, but what happened to, well, the year? I suppose there is no use in being upset by a year that when from zero to “Ba-Zing” so…let’s start the holiday off with a bang!

If the above image is confusing to you, then I guess you don’t have X-Entertainment.com in your life, and I am sad for you. Like a broken record, every year at the same time, I shout from the mountain tops to check out Matt’s famous site of all things great. So this year is no different. Make a point to click the link and take a fun trip, whether it is the blog or the wacky antics in the advent calender, I promise you’ll feel colors. Red and Green colors.

For the first official day of the 2009 Christmas season, I believe I will discuss the greatest memories I have and that is the countless hours spent browsing the Sears catalog, making a “wish list” and checking twice. Or three hundred times. Ok, five hundred. Whatever. Combing my memory, here are some great toys that even today, I wouldn’t mind having.

The USS FLAGG was the greatest toy a boy could have. It was like a toy for your toys. That didn’t make any sense, I know, but go with me here. It was so massive it required a permanent portion of a room. I had fantasies about this thing. I dreamed of being the kid that truly had the best gift every kid wanted and the massive amounts superficial friends I would acquire because of it. I dreamed of eating cheeseburgers on the deck while watching Thundercats. I dreamed of reenacting the opening scene of  Top Gun while humming the theme song. A kid can dream, can’t he? But sadly enough, it was a dream. Never had the damn thing.

Holy shit did I have a few of these. I think this was the present that all my relatives bought for me when I was six. It was as if everyone got a memo for that Christmas stating my aspirations to build a fleet for the Rebel Alliance. What ever the case, if you needed a Kenner X-Wing; I was your guy. The one thing I hated about this toy was the laser sound. It made a noise that would turn a cat inside out and explode. What ever that noise was, it was not a laser sound. Watch this below and see what I am talking about. “REEEEE”

Speaking of lasers, remember this awesomeness of awesome? The Hasbro Lazer Tag set was one of my most treasured Christmas gifts and even though I never found a kid in the neighborhood who had a set to compete with, I did enjoy shooting myself with the help of the bathroom mirror. The only thing I didn’t like about this was the noisy heartbeat sounds on the monitor. Made sneaking around pretty much impossible.

When I was searching for the perfect Transformer picture to rant and rave for the “must have” toy of the mid to late 80’s, I came upon this. Megatron. In an instant I was whisked off the couch back to 1987, sitting in my PJ’s on the blue carpeted den in Marietta, Georgia on Christmas morning. On my lap was this glorious purple box. When I took it out of the static clinging styrofoam I immediately began to “transform” the Rugger pistol into the nemesis of Optimus Prime, ignoring the pleads of my father not to force it. But before I knew it, I forced it, and hyper-extended it. I broke off the leg of Megatron. Though the disappointment was apparent, I still managed to enjoy it for what it was. God, I can still smell the pine, scotch tape and new plastic. Some nostalgia can rival any of Einstein’s greatest theories.

Pow Pow Power Wheels! Much like the dream of owning the USS Flagg, another pipe dream of mine was owning a set of Power Wheels. I had plenty of first grade daydreams of driving my Power Wheel Jeep to the store for my Mom or picking up my pal Toby and cruising to Showbiz Pizza and catching a Rock-A-Fire Explosion animatronic show. But it was not in the stars. But the next year I did car jack the neighbors daughter and take her Barbie Jeep around the block. That is until Mom found out and a foot chase issued. Turns out Power Wheels were a lot faster in my dreams. I was escorted by the elbow to a cell without dinner.

The WWF Wrestling Buddies were a big item for my friends and me. What toy could be better than an Ultimate Warrior a 75 pound kid can body slam? In fact, this pillow character above is directly responsible for a dislocated shoulder. I will just say the couch is not a platform for a pile driver. It’s embarrassing to admit losing a match to a half pound pillow. Even if it was this dude:

Yeah, would you mess with this guy? I didn’t think so.

Perhaps it was for a lack of siblings but I really wanted a bear that could read me bedtime stories and have conversations about Star Wars. This was the one time it was sociably acceptable to have a teddy bear as a boy. We all knew Christopher Robin was a pansy. But going through my old photos from my time home for Thanksgiving I found a troubling picture.

Ah shit. No wonder. I will leave it at that. No wonder.

Nothing will fuck a vacuum up like a Lite Brite peg. I know this from experience. But really, I have received this a couple of different times during Christmas and even though I understood the concept, I never made anything more than an illuminated Jackson Pullock. Seriously, if Lite Brite was an intelligence test, I would have scored somewhere between “cat with paintbrush in mouth” and “chimp with paint on it’s ass”. Meh, this was a shit gift.

No, I have never owned a Strawberry Shortcake doll but I have tried to eat one. Like you haven’t at least thought about it. But I can attest, it just tastes like plastic.

I believe this is a good way to wrap up this old Christmas-want article. The one, the only Castle Greyskull. Even my Grandmother knows what Castle Greyskull is. This magnificent play set was a Masters of the Universe staple in every snotty kid’s room. I was shit, I admit. I even had Skeletor’s Castle. In fact, there are fond memories of saying “boner” over the Doom microphone. I suppose you have to be eight to see the humor. I still cackle when I hear “boner”.

I hope some of my memories have brought up a few of yours. I know I can’t be alone in my head toy chest. Tis the season to be happy and these memories make me smile no matter where or when. Let’s kick off the X-Mas fun starting….right…….NOW!

Where Did You Go? Part 12

Man,  I havn’t done one of these for a while. Actually, I haven’t done much of anything on here for a while. And for that, I am sorry. So to make amends, I am writing this pants-less with large foam sombrero on my head. The things I do for you people. Now let’s get down to business.

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“Graaaaaaaaace!” Holy shit, this lady is one of my favorites. It is Edie McClurg, the round, bubbly, chipper mid-western lady that occasionally will drop an F-bomb. Everything about her, I love.  And it is not just because she has been in John Hughes films. Although that is a big part. What am I talking about? Between Ed Rooney’s secretary role and her role in Planes Trains and Automobiles, she can do no wrong with me. In fact, even if those were her only two times on the silver screen, she would still be a huge star to me.

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But even though she rocked the last half of the eighties, her type-cast didn’t hold her back from continuing a very busy career all the way to today. She started satirical acting at a young age and was even a voice in the 1960’s cartoon The Jetsons. (How awesome would it be if she was Astro?) Her first real movie role was Carrie an since then she has been in John Hughes’ films,  Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, voice overs for Pixar movies and numerous of TV shows like Small Wonders, Diff’ent Strokes, Mr. Belvedere, Sienfeld, Rosanne and so many others. Oddly enough she was never in an episode of Murder She Wrote. There goes that theory. But still, her role as Grace the secretary made her what she is for me today: a sex symbol I am not proud of. Rowr…

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If you look close, that is Edie in the shower. Yeah, I need to get out more.

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I forget who requested Wyatt from Weird Science but here you go. His real name is Ilan Mitchell and was discovered by a talent agent at a ballet studio in Massachusetts. Yeah, speaking of weird. From then he went on to a brief but successful acting career including, of course, Weird Science, The Chocolate War, the TV series Superboy and few others. To be perfectly honest, I only remember him as Wyatt and have very fuzzy memories of Superboy. But that is okay because…

41he wasn’t meant to be an actor but rather a real life professor.

It’s true, Ilam went from Weird Science to Weird-Beard and also…total…denim. Sorry, that distracted me. What was I saying? Ah yes, Ilam is married with two kids and is an assistant professor of English. Oddly enough his wife never knew of his acting career until one day she confessed to loving The Chocolate War. That is when Ilam not only confessed to loving The Chocolate War as well but also to staring in it. TA DA! I don’t know what is more disturbing; being married to the star of your favorite movie and not knowing it or not knowing you’re married to the star of the John Hughes 1986 classic, Weird Science. Either way, that is a great excuse for domestic violence.

Chris Burke03aPlease don’t think that I am about to do what you think I am. I am actually curious to see what Chris Burke, who played Corky Thatcher in the early 1990’s hit show Life Goes On, is up to today. And looking to IBDM for a reference it seems that Chris has been on a few other shows like ER and Touched By An Angle. There are others but to be honest, if the role he plays in Life Goes On, Touched By An Angle  and ER is the same, is it worth listing? That’s what I thought too.

I might be alone on this but did it piss anyone off that his family nicknamed him “Corky” on Life Goes On? If you have a downs syndrome kid, don’t give him a fucking nickname. Especially if it is cute and ends in a “Y”. AT LEAST Chris was able to rise above it. In an interview he said:

People said I could never become an actor because I’m retarded. It goes to show you that anyone can make their dreams a reality… unless they’re brain dead.

Holy Fuck.

In my quest to see what Chris is up to, I found this on YouTube and had to sit for awhile after. There are somethings that leave me unable to add anything to them. This is one of those times. If there are small children in the room, you might want to ask them to leave now.

So…anyone for a chip? Yeah, I lost my appetite too.

Bing, Bang, Boom

It’s almost five o’clock on a Sunday night and I am knee-deep in work for a Monday morning meeting. While I want to write about funny thoughts on candy corn and zombie-retail-hilarity, I must persevere with what pays the bills. So wait right here.

Okay, I am done. Believe it or not that space between this paragraph and the one above took about three hours to cross. Doesn’t look that far, huh? Now where was I?

Oh yeah. I have had football on all day while I responded to emails and wrote budget plans, I have come to a conclusion: Keith Olbermann makes me want to hurt puppies. I fucking hate that guy. Why must something as glorious as the NFL be covered by such a smug, ugly, dick of a guy? All politics aside, his mean spirited humor and snide comments makes me seriously through around the “C” word as if I was saying “and” or “the”. Piss on him. Just his voice causes me to bend spoons with mind-hate.

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Whew! Had to get that one out and thanks for listening. The cat gave up and left hours ago. What I really wanted to write about is…I don’t know. Hold on, it’s coming to me.

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Went to a corn maze this weekend! Yeah, I am a sucker for those. It was a beautiful day and everything about Fall was present. They had cider, pumpkins, squash, Halloween decor and of course corn. Lots of corn. The only thing they were missing were the people.

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Stephen King really had something with his “spooky + corn = win” idea. Even though it was 4 in the afternoon and daylight, being alone in corn makes your senses really spin. You can hear the wind blowing above but to your left and right; nothing. Every so often your mind plays tricks and you hear conversations. Like I said I was alone in the maze that was 3 miles long. Talk about sensory deprivation!

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I finally made it through, even if I did cheat by cutting through the rows. It turns out that corn kind of itches! No longer do I have aspirations to be a corn farmer, making alien shapes in it at night. This stuff kind of sucks. And scary.

See? Corn belongs in a can or popped. Not ten feet tall or in the movies.

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In other news, I have been accepted to be a staff member over at the infamous “Review The World” website. I can not begin to tell you how excited I am about this because I have been a fan for many years. Brian does an amazing job keeping a positive, fun and informative review site and in this age of Internet abuse, that can be a real tough job. But, he has prevailed and it is a fun site to peruse if you have not already done so. I am a fan of the review videos and random road adventures. Remember folks, it’s the little things and they should be celebrated.

I’m In A Mood

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Most of my life I have been in a pretty good mood. I always try to see the bright side of life and even in times of strife, there is usually a tinge of happiness to be found. Call it optimism or call it stupidity, I call it a survival mechanism. But even us “glass half full of beer” people can have moments of “fuck my life”. (That’s my new exclamation. Like it?) Here are some resent MRAAHHH’s!

I love NPR. For those who don’t know what NPR is, it stands for News…ahem…National Public Radio and most liberal arts universities have a relay for it on their campus. I particularly enjoy the evening program, “All Things Considered” which along with news, they have stories on topics rarely discussed in the crap we call news on TV. You can be driving in the most desolate areas of the country but in mind, you are in a hospital far off in the Congo or a kitchen in south Bronx listening to a 15 year old girl who raises all her siblings in the midst of gang violence. This program allows us to understand what many choose not to.

But there is a segment that makes me want to jerk the wheel into a goddamn bridge abutment. It is when they allow authors and poets to read their own work. People who write shouldn’t be allowed to read their stuff, especially those who All Things Consider’s, well, consider. You wouldn’t want Stephen King narrating his stories, would you? He’s as close to a human beaver as it comes.

A particular poet/reader had me fidgeting like a day three meth-trip. She spoke so softly I had the radio volume turned all the way up as she over enunciates every single word. I could only liken this to a woman trying to teach a deaf person to read lips by repeating “EGG! MC! MUF FFFF FFF IN!” This made my patients dip so low I took a huge swig of my boiling coffee, completely forgetting I just bought it and still, as I type, I taste only cardboard. Oh! I forgot, you could hear her nose whistle come through loud and clear. Fuck my life!

I know this is petty but still, given the choice between listen to a smug poet read her work from the next room of a recording booth or having a fat guy eat an apple out of anger over a megaphone in a small bathroom, I would choose the latter.

Text messaging is a great invention. Those of you who read this and actually know me in “real life” know that I abuse texting. To me, it is to the point and it leaves out opportunities to be stuck in a conversation about how someone’s dog ate blueberries from the kitchen table and shit a Jackson Pollock on the living room carpet. But there also is a time and place.

Recently I went out to dinner with a friend. She’s a good person but she is also one of those people who have little regard for other people. I guess everything has come easy to her and it doesn’t occur to her that there are other people on the planet. I tolerate her.

Well, about halfway through dinner she gets into a texting battle that lasts the rest of the meal. My phone went off at least six times but I would never think of that disruption at dinner. She just didn’t get that when two people are at dinner and one is on the phone, that makes the other feel bad. And look bad. By the time she was done I had drunk two shots, had three beers and spelled “suck my ass” in peas upside down on my plate of Pad Tai. Like I said, she can’t help being who she is. That’s why I tolerate her.

Nonverbal facial gestures with eyebrows from someone I don’t know makes me want to reply with nonverbal hand gestures with my middle fingers. I was next in line at the bagel shop and when it was my turn the tattooed, pierced, blue haired dude gave me an eyebrow gesture as if to say, “You are next retard”. I didn’t thank him after the transaction. Showed him. Wait a minute…he didn’t thank me!

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Got my car totally fixed! But in the waiting room I had to watch “The View” on their TV. Don’t even get me started and don’t get me wrong, I am all about women and 100% equality but this show actually removed very important brain cells. When the mechanic was finished he asked for a form of payment and I responded, “Yes. Have some.”

If this makes some people angry, I am sorry. I just lied to you. I’m not and I don’t care. Whoopie needed to stay in the 1980’s. I am still disappointed in Ted Danson because that’s gross, man. That officially killed Cheers.

It just hit me that I am a 31 year old guy, living by myself with a cat in Idaho. I am Jon Arbuckle. Fuck my life.

*Back on track with the Fall theme tomorrow folks! I’ll be in a better mood by then. ;)*

Target Gets A Pass

So, I was a little harsh on Target for their noticably “tarty to the party” Halloween display but they actually came through quite well. I managed to check all the reviewable items off the list and above all, I did so in a chicken suit. I am not lying.

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To be honest, the suit was not made for a 6 foot fellow but rather a 5’10” one so I could not completely lift my head or see passed the beak. But that has never stopped me before. I am not sure on the legs though.

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And wouldn’t you know it? I just got a kitten and now we can have matching costumes this year! Wait a minute. I think I just made a statement about the cat and I having matching costumes. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get out more.

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Yeah, I didn’t think she would have gone for it anyway.

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