Category: Humor

I No Longer Fear Hell…

…for I have seen Valentines Day.

Now before you ask, I did not plan on ever watching this abortion of a film but I was staying at a friend’s house because I have an office over one hundred miles away from my place (not exaggerating) and that forces me to be a couch hobo from time to time. So, when he informed me his girlfriend was in charge of the movie, I had no choice but to watch…in horror.

Usually I would never admit to seeing this, fearing embarrassment equal to having an involuntary bowel evacuation on the monorail at Disney World but this movie was so cliché’, unimaginative, woman-suffrage-ending, nauseating craptastic and utterly boring, I swear to God it cost me a penal inch. About half way through my fists were so itchy I took a swing at my buddy’s cat. Lucky for it, cat’s have a sixth sense about bad movies and it retreated for the closet. Quick little devil.

So where to begin? The movie follows a number of different people who are all having issues with Valentines Day, ranging from the sappy guy who loves the holiday to the kid who wants to get roses for his sweetheart to the old couple that is having their 50th V-Day. There is about as much creativity as a Christian Mad Libs book here. I am actually pretty impressed with how dumb Hollywood thinks we are and still gets away with it! I mean, fuck, I watched this!

The cast is a diarrhea mix of anyone in the mainstream that will piss off a moderately intelligent person. So let’s break it down one by one. There are a lot of them.

Ashton Kutcher plays a guy who owns a flower shop, loves Valentines Day, proposes to his girlfriend but in a twist gets dumped (when I say twist, I mean like when Scooby Doo catches a ghost and it turns out to be the maid) and ends up with his long time best friend in the end. And he wears pink through the whole movie. I can’t decide who is more annoying; him or his character. I had to be on my best behavior since this wasn’t my place but within the first few minutes of his debut, I telepathically dented my soda can.

I was worried the film would only have one black hole of talent but when George Lopez showed up I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It’s funny but I tend to fall asleep to Nick@Nite and for some reason the George Lopez show is always on infringing on all the good shows. So I change the channel while saying aloud in my best Mexican accent “click” (cleeeeek). Naturally I repeated that when he showed up as one of Ashton’s employees. I didn’t even explain myself.

Okay, so I just looked at the IMDB page and the cast list is so long, if I ripped on every character in this movie, this post would be about 10,000 words and I would be create such a storm of hate, I think my ora would turn a visible tie dye of puke-purple-green and cause a rainstorm in this cafe’. So I will point out a few.

The typical chick-flick cute boy who buys flowers for his fist love in an elaborate display of innocent affection without fear of ridicule from his fellow classmates. Of course it’s not for a girl but the teacher. Shock and twist! But then he gets shot down by the teacher and he is forced to give his $55 dollar bouquet to the Indian girl. If I was a writer for this movie, this kid would be a quadriplegic and bullies would disconnect the battery from his rascal wheelchair and roll him into the girls restroom.

Ah, Jennifer Garner is the teacher of the sweet boy whose misguided crush leads her to her best friend Ashton Kutcher after she learns of her doctor/boyfriend’s double life marriage. She beats the shit out of a paper mache heart filled with chocolate (obviously women’s substitute to prozac on Valentine’s day) with an aluminum bat. God, who is the doctor that would cheat on that walking radar dish? Ooooo, she might hear me

Of course! It’s Dr. McDickless! How could one cast this movie any different? Wait…where is his counterpart, Dr. McDouche?

Oh good, there he is. I was worried that he would be left out from this all-star circus. He plays the quarterback that is in turmoil because he is gay and has to come out. That’s bad news for his agent…

Jessica Beil because she is a depressed single girl on Valentine’s Day that eats chocolate by the pound. Wow. That’s a hell of a character. Way to be an actress of discernment. but there is hope for her because she is falling for a sportscaster who is breaking the gay football hero story and it is none other than…

Jamie Foxx! Is it just me or does this guy look retarded? And by retarded I mean full on Oshkosh overalls and a helmet. I have always thought that and I feel liberated to speak my mind. But his powerful boss doesn’t think so. She is a strong stocky woman who could care less about Valentine’s Day because she couldn’t get laid in a prison with a fist full of pardons. That can only be…

Kathy Bates!

Man, I can’t do this anymore. The list is too long and the characters are too two-dimensional! The only way this movie could take anymore of a turn for the worst would be if Queen Latifah was in it.

Of course she is! Aaaaaaaaaand scene!

Let me end this on a good note. My buddy’s girlfriend cried twice during this movie and that’s okay. Different strokes for different folks and sometimes strokes make people retarded.

Good night folks!

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Present Self to Future Self

I just wanted to capture this moment and preserve it in a blog so I can look back from the future and say, “wow, that was worth it”. It’s inconceivable at my current state to believe so, but given time, I thing it will happen. Almost as if I am shouting to my future-self saying, “FUTURE-SELF! YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME!” I can feel him reading this now. That smug bastard.

Or wait, what if I am to be future-failure-self and all this is for not? What if I am burning present-self to oblivion and future-self is reading this shouting, “STOP! STOP! I’M A DAIRY FARMER IN SACRAMENTO! YOU DON’T NEED ANY OF THIS!”  To that I say…I need to get back to present-self. Fuck off future-self.

I am sure that future-self hates me right now and I get that. I look at past-self with a semi-satisfactory opinion and I don’t believe that is too out of the ordinary. I mean who doesn’t strive to better each day so there is no way that future-self can be reading this without an eye roll or two. Some of past-self’s actions deserve ball punches with extreme prejudice and I am hoping future-self is not as critical from this point forward. And now I am done writing on this.

I was watching Caddy Shack for the 400th time yesterday and I thought I had just about every line committed to memory until I caught the a subtle interaction between the Judge and his grandson, Spalding. It’s very quick but it is now my new favorite quote.

Spalding (teeing off but doing poorly): “TURDS!”

Judge: “Spalding watch your language!”

Spalding: “Sorry Grandpa.”

(Tries again) “DOUBLE FARTS!”

Well, I managed to cross the 100 mile per week running goal and I think this will be maintained for the foreseeable future. I am really surprised how good I feel, though. There is little soreness, the feet are fine, no knee and back issues and the runs are at a quick pace. The military side of me believes I am not pushing myself hard enough because without pain there is no gain but the 32 year old side of me is knocking on wood while doing the Bartakomous’s, “dance of joy”.  This may culminate catastrophically but really, do I do it any other way?

NEW FAVORITE SHOW!

I was watching Bert the Conqueror last week and I am a huge fan. He reminds me of someone and it is bugging the hell out of me that I can’t think of who. Regardless, this show is great and I highly recommend it. So watch it. That’s an order.

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Curmudgeon Me

I am getting old and while my body is fully aware of this, my brain is still 18. A baby’s brain and an old man’s heart, took 32 years just to get this far. For some reason I just refuse to put it down and act my age and the signs are starting to show. For example:

A couple of months ago I went to see Megadeth and had a great time at the show. The one thing about me and a metal show is I try to experience it all and by all I mean stage diving, crowd surfing and of course moshing. Most people shy away from an invite to such a show and I now understand that. Especially since I came home with a broken rib and no clue how it happened.

Another lovely incident happened recently when walking home from the pub late at night. I was minding my one business when I heard someone sprinting my way and when I turned to look….

That was all I remember. The next thing I know I have two girls helping me sit up with blood everywhere. Some pussy guy ran up, slugged me and took off, leaving me knocked out and bleeding. Can you believe that?

So this is a week later. It looks so much better than it did over the weekend and I am starting to not scare as many people. In fact, I was at the gym and a guy asked me about it. I told him, “first rule of fight club…” and he smiled and told me it looks bad-ass. I didn’t know get knocked out could make someone look tougher. I need to make up a better story.

Well, like I said, I need to act 32 and not 23. Walking home from a pub alone at 2:30 in the morning isn’t wise and jumping off a stage into a mosh pit is even less wise. Who knows, tomorrow I might take up base jumping with a questionable parachute? But for now, I think I am going to stick to my new hobby; shitty origami.

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The Worst Renaissance Fair Ever

Okay, I can’t actually claim that this is the worst Renaissance Fair ever, but I am hard pressed to believe there is one as bad as this without  involving a hosting elementary school for the deaf and blind. This was no more medieval than the post-eighties transformation of the princess/girlfriends of Bill and Ted. (Wild Stallions!) No, this was a huge suck. Excalibur dinner theatre would be sad for this. Enter the Idaho’s Renaissance Fair of Shit.

What you see above is a real Renaissance Fair in all of it’s glory. There should be knights, mead, giant turkey legs, whore-ish wenches and horse poop! I should enter the gates a normal guy and leave a loser and proud owner of a sword. There should be everyday people who have grown a perfect Spinal Tap mullet just for this occasion and sing ballads of while juggling. Damn it, this is the time when we can all reference Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail for the first time since high school! But not in Idaho.

I really don’t know what I was expecting. Sure I live in a small college town where the elevation out numbers the population but come on. If you are going to fuck around and say there is a Renaissance Fair in town, don’t forget the Renaissance. For awhile I thought that I was at the wrong park and was pretty giddy to think not only is there a Renaissance fair in town but there is a hippy art fair too!

Then I saw the Ye Ol’ Hot Dog Stand supporting the local Church of Later Day Saints. That is when I knew that there was not the Renaissance Fair that I have grown to love but a dirty, hippy craft fair in disguise with castle hot dog stands and a few nods to the days of knights and dragons.

Nods like custom-made shoes which is a stretch, but back then, they did have shoe smiths. The guy selling them had huge dread-locks and I over heard a woman asking him a question. Perhaps it was my untimely eavesdropping but when she asked him how he cleans them he told her with herbal dread soap. She said, “not your hair, the shoes”. For some reason that caught me so off guard I just couldn’t contain myself.

Also, right after I took this picture I met eyes with an old dude who nodded in approval. He thought I was taking pictures of these girls’ asses.

I am all about going green and not wasting what can be reused but I thought it was a little ridiculous to have guards in front of the three separate containers, ensuring no one throws a paper cup in the aluminum bin. I had just bought apple cider and was too intimidated to throw out my gum in fear I would have a high school girl scream at me for a wrong toss. It really didn’t matter anyway. Oh and the apple cider? It was hot apple juice. Fuck! Ass!

There were a few people who came “dressed to impressed” but like me, they were fooled by the title. It seemed like they were invited to a costume party by some dicks and when they showed up, it was just a normal party.

Damn, this is kind of a fucked up picture, eh? For the life of me I can’t remember how or why I took it. To the unassuming eye, it appears that the kid is trying to stab a dismounted child cyclist. You know what? Let’s keep it at that.

And this is what where I leave you. A great symbol of the Renaissance Fair I experienced this weekend. There are no words. Wait, yeah there is. Total shit. Hmmm, guess that’s two.

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Ginseng Cola and Watermelon Beer?

I don’t consider myself a connoisseur of soft drinks (or anything for that matter), but every so often I am tempted to try something and yap about it on here as if I know what I am talking about. Sort of like my annual Autumn beer review. While it is fun to get a buzz and carve Jack-O-Lantern faces in various items, the review should not be taken as a serious beer taste-test. I just needed a vessel for my shenanigans. So here is a quick article that will fill  my time off as a facade for being productive.

Tonight, I am going to review a few items that I picked up at the local Food Co-Op. To me, the Food Co-Op of Moscow, Idaho is a slice of heaven. There are so many international items, odd vegetables, organic anythings and hundreds of micro brews in the beer aisle that to shop there is less of a chore and more of a trip. Sure there are some die-hard organic-loving hippies but for the most part, there are people like me who just want to load the cart with oddities and spend $1.30 on a root beer. Maybe I am the weird one and the hippies are normal? Hmmm. No, I smell much better.

As you can see, the selection of the beer and sodas from around the US and world is pretty extensive. The really cool thing is the box full of old 6 pack holsters so you can create your own beer box of goodness. As a person who has an average appreciation for fine beer, much is wasted on me because one man’s heavenly nectar is another man’s bottle of yak piss and if it is less than pleasing, I have a habit of making this face. So, don’t expect me to be agreeable over a $10 bottle of beer when I am the type that has recently ordered a Happy Meal and an orange soda. But I did end up with a few gems and here they are.

Lola was promised a part in this review.

Hell or High Watermelon Wheat Beer from 21st Amendment Brewery was something that I just could not pass up. I can’t tell if it was the watermelon flavor or the fact the can spoke to me through its impressive designs and company’s mission statement. Whatever the reason was, it ended up in the basket.

The can posed this beer to be simple in ingredients but shocking in originality. Both hold true from the weird combination of wheat and watermelon to the warning stating “Agitate before opening. Yeast inside”. Being the type of person who ignores words and warnings, I popped this can and drank it down as if it was a Bud Lite. Not a  Bud Lite!

The first thought I had, was eating a piece of watermelon and dropping it in a bag of day-old grass clippings. And then, instead of leaving the watermelon in the bag, you just pick it back up and keep on eating, rhine and all. It definitely is a wheaty, yeasty beer but after a few more sips, that taste subsides and a dry watermelon flavor permeates allowing the main attraction of this beer to be shown. I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps a Zima with a watermelon Jolly Rancher inside? No, but definitely not a medium body wheat. I love it for what it is; a cool concept in cooler packaging. Check them out here!

The following two are the colas that I needed to try. That is pretty much because the only three colas I have ever had were Coca Cola, Pepsi and R.C. and to me, each are only separated by a few varying degrees. I know the difference, but I am not the type to spit one over another out in protest.

I needed to try the organic and micro brewed type just so I can really define what cola is. In the past, I have been let down by most anything cola flavored just because it all tastes like soda burp. Whether it is gum or candy, I leave it up to major corporations to tell me what real cola is supposed to taste like.The homemade version intrigue me.

The one on the left is from the soda micro company Natural Brew and from the picture, its label seems to read “Band Crapter”. That can’t be right. Anyway, it’s defining feature is the Chinese ginseng root that promises sharper memory and motor skills. I don’t know. The taste however, was much like RC. No, it tastes exactly like RC. To the Royal Cola haters this might be a deal breaker but the ginsing…uh..”zing”, helped me learn French in a night. And I built a fort from the couch cushions, invited the neighbors and pelted them with rolled up socks.

The cola to the right is from Virgil’s Micro Company and this one was a little more pleasing. Perhaps it’s the 64 grams of sugar? I have really become a fan of Virgil’s anything. The root beer is the greatest root beer you will ever have. While the cola is just like Coke, the root beer is like an acid trip to Candy Land by way of Chutes and Ladders. Unbelievable. If I had ten they would probably be consumed so fast I would slip into a diabetic furry of zombie-like coordination and absurd statements like “I lost my January” or “Beanie Babies for President! Four more days! Four more days!” It’s better if I just stick to one a week. Here is what I am talking about.

This was perhaps the most in-congruent review I have ever done. I just needed an excuse to spend stupid money on stuff that economically sound folks would scoff at. I suppose that is why we have blogs. It is a great excuse to do most anything. I can’t tell you how many stupid things I have done, not because it was for the reasons of writing, but just because I wanted to do it. The blog only justifies my actions to others.

In other news, I saw Trick r Treat finally. I liked it. Not so much for the quality of the movie but for what it was trying to do. I loved The Creepshow feel and even more so, I absolutely loved the Halloweentown feel. Did I really just give props to a Disney movie and in the same sentence with The Creepshow while describing an R rated film? Bet your booberellas I did. If I keep going I might just throw a bone to Are You Afraid of the Dark from the ancient world of SNICK.

If you guys have nothing going on tonight, check out Stacie Ponder’s relatively new radio show, The Scare-ening that is live at 8:00 Pacific. It’s a horror-fun-good-time.

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