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.
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.
It is Saturday and I sit here behind my computer just struggling to come up with a great topic to write about and I can’t. I think creativity has been stripped from me and I really want it back. So, instead of writing about one thing, I am going to brain dump a lot on you and the randomness will be like something you have never seen. So put your lap-belt on.
I really miss the Halloween season and I know that is a huge nerd thing to say at age 32 but it is true. I found myself cruising old X-E Halloween articles this morning and I was yearning for cider, pumpkins, John Carpenter, and amazing K-Mart retail gold. But it is only March and to wish Halloween here means I would want 6 months to skip by and that’s another step closer to 33. So, perhaps I will have my own private Halloween in April. Even David Bowie day is still months off. Mother!
If you are ever bored or want some feel-good time killers I can not recommend strongly enough to cruise over to Review the World and hit up Brian’s articles and videos. It’s a really fun place that makes you appreciate all the little things. My favorites videos are these three. I just love how positive life is for Brian and I’ll say it. It’s inspirational.Plus, I write for him from time to time. I might have another one on the way there soon. I’ll let you know.
I had a dream last night that my car’s engine caught fire and I was stranded at a youth’s church lock-in. I can’t decide which would be worse now that I think about it. I will say, it was nice to wake up and look out the window to see my car was still all together. What the Hell is going on in my life that I dream that shit?
I am about to order Chinese food and that makes me so happy I will do a dance of joy. Please wait.
Alright, I am back. About Chinese food. I think I might break the norm and not go Kung Pao tonight even though I love it. No, I think tonight I will go crazy and get something completely different. But I am not sure what. Oooo, this is so crazy! I need to get out more, huh?
*2 Hours later*
Got the Spicy Beef. Not so great and not so spicy. I would say C minus. What are you going to do? At least my fortune said people where talking about me in a good way. Thanks everyone!
Off to watch Drag Me To Hell! I have heard good things and as a Sam Raimi fan, I have high hopes. Have a great night. I’ll be here, just messing with my cat. She’s a good sport.
I admit it. When I was a kid I had bears. Not many but I had a few and even though I pride myself on being a “Tom Sawyer” type of kid who built tree houses, played “guns” in the woods and pledge allegiance to GI Joe and the defenders of freedom, I could not brave the night without a bear in the bed. Their non-blinking black eyes stood watch against C.H.U.D., Freddy and Jason who I knew lived across the hall in the guest bedroom. A skinny boy can rest easy knowing that furry warriors will stay up all night. You know they sleep when I was at school.
There was particular bear, however, that made question the comforts of the snuggly softness and cute demeanor. That was Axlon’s AG Bear; the bear who talked to you in robotic bear talk. If you know what I am talking about, consider yourself the minority because I have met no one who has a clue what I am talking about.
AG (Almost Grown) Bear is the brain child from the makers of Atari and the animatronics geniuses that made Chuck E. Cheese shows come to life. You would think that no matter what, this would be a hit with any kid. But no, kids were smarter than that. They new “WTF” when they saw it. Check it out below!
The only way I can describe AG Bear is by taking Anthony Daniels, putting him back into C3PO’s suit, bashing him in the head to the point of brain damage, cupping his robot mouth and making him repeat the ABC’s. Then we might be able to recreate AG’s voice.
The technology behind AG is a three-second delayed recording and playback so when you say something, AG merely repeats what you say but in a bear voice. It sounds cute in theory but in reality, it sounds as if Aunt Beatrix’s tracheotomy mic is low on batteries. Also, when you sleep and role over, expect to get a “WRAA RAA RA WAAA” so a kid has to sleep in the position of attention.
Here is an actual conversation from my first week back to school after the Winter break. AG bear was a new toy and I relied on him as an interactive friend. That’s what it said on the box!
ME– Hey AG!
AG– MRAA RA RA
ME– How are you today?
AG– WRA RA ROO RORAY?
ME– Ha! Ha! Glad to hear it.
AG- RA! RA! WROA OO RWAA AR
ME– I had a rough day, AG.
AG- WA RA WROUW RA
ME– Well, it all started when this kid who is in the fifth grade said I had a funny fa-
AG– WRA, A RAA RARAOW WROO ARROOO RA WRAAA ROO WROOAAAR WROA RAA
ME– Excuse me AG, I was in the middle of te-
AG– RAROOO RA RARA WO WRA ROOOROA RWRAOW
ME- WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU STUPI-
AG– WRAAA RAA RWWOOO RA WROOAR WRO RWAOAR ROO
ME– Not only are you rude but are you mocking me?
AG -RA RAAO ROOOROO RA ROAWR WRA ROO RARA?
ME– I AM GOING TO SHOOT YOU IN THE TEETH WITH MY FRICK-
AG– WRA A ROAWRA AO ROOOROOO RWAOR WO WRA RAORW RAOA
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!
Casserole of Disaster 
