30 April 2010

Ten Years Gone

Thinking that the special effects scenes of the world ending would make up for a horrible lack of plot, I made the mistake of watching the movie 2012 a few nights ago.

Here is a short list of a few things more entertaining than watching that congealed puddle of diarrhea (in Hi-Def!):

*Drinking some or all the household cleaners under your cabinet, then calling poison control and telling them what you've done.
*Punching yourself in the face.
*Sobbing uncontrollably.
*Swallowing anything you find on the floorboards of Woody Harrelson's van.
*Headbutting a hay spike.
*Sitting in an empty closet with the lights off.
*Bronzing your genitals.
*Choking to death.
*Experimenting with a DIY-root-canal-kit.

The one thing I did learn from this movie...

SPOILER ALERT!!!

...sometimes having your young child witness the violent, graphic, and total destruction of her entire planet is the most surefire way to cure her of wetting the bed.  No shit.

Contrary to intuition, scenes like this make children want to NOT piss themselves.  Who knew?
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While cleaning off a cluttered bookshelf last night, I found a unlabeled CD in a dusty case.  I classified it as garbage and threw it in the trash, before deciding maybe I should see what was on it first. Turns out, I'm glad I fished it out of the shitpile.

It was an ooooollllllllllld (circa 2000) recording of me playing guitar and singing three covers and one original.  I had completely forgotten I'd written the original song, and realized if I had thrown out that disk, I would have likely NEVER remembered writing or recording it, and lost it forever.

Here's one of the covers from that CD, I Fought The Law by Sonny Curtis and The Crickets.

Someday I may post that original.  Today is not that day.
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What's the worst thing you almost threw away?

20 April 2010

Two Questions



I only want to know two things:

1) Does that come in a female voice?

2) Where do I plug in my shopvac?

19 April 2010

These Boots Are Made...

A.A. Bondy's title track When The Devil's Loose.
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Those of you trapped behind a desk eight hours a day, five days a week, know tedium can be a killer of both productivity and sanity. The horrible slog between morning and lunch, then between lunch and quitting time are peppered with pitfalls of monotony. Everyone I work with has their own method of dealing with the workday doldrums, from banal conversation breaks to caffeine intake that borders on criminal.

I have tried these methods, and while they are a pleasant break from the routine, they don't do much to keep me energized once I return to my cell.

What I have found that keeps me on an even keel is an activity known as walking.



walk·ing - Pronunciation: \ˈw-kiŋ\ - Function: noun -Date: 14th century

1 : the minimal amount of effort one can exert while still claiming it is "exercise" with a straight face. 
Jared claimed walking and submarine sandwiches made him lose weight, but everyone knows it was the meth.


2 : the condition of a surface for one going on foot.
Though already difficult in the low light and haze of opium smoke, the walking was made even more treacherous by the puddles of meth-barf that Jared had spewed everywhere.



Originally championed by the elderly and those too corpulent or lazy for normal exercise, walking is quickly gaining traction as the exercise of choice among the following key demographic: people who are sick as fuck of sitting behind a goddamn desk and staring at a soul-sucking screen that is slowing eating away at the quality years of their pathetic and ever-dwindling lives.  Yeah.  That demographic.

At any rate, a coworker and I started walking about three or four years ago when we were seeking a place to vulgarly complain about our jobs without being overheard.  The mile-and-a-half of walking (broken out over two walks; morning and afternoon) was just incidental to our insatiable desire to bitch and moan.

At first, our workstations were in close enough proximity to simply ask each other if we felt up for a walk.
"Hey, motherfucker. Walk?"
"Let's do it."

As time and advancement moved us further apart, it became necessary to email each other when the need for a walk arose.

... ... ... ...

I'm not sure when it happened, but at some juncture the phrases "walk" and "walking" were supplanted by images of Christopher Walken.

So for over a year now, I've been scouring the internet daily in search of new and unique images of Mr. Walken, and surprisingly, I have NOT exhausted all the available images.

Below are some of my favorites, organized by group.

There are Costumed Walkens:
 

There are Portrait Walkens:
 

And even the ever-elusive Mustachioed Walkens:


Honestly, all these Walken pictures are enough to blow a man's mind.

Fortunately, good ol Christopher can be there to reassemble your blown mind, should the need arise.


Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walken

Which celebrity have you seen too many pictures of?
(And no, for once I don't mean naked pictures.)
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Speaking of crazy mustache pictures, go check out some of the timeless classics HERE.

13 April 2010

Grease-burned Thighs

The perils of cooking bacon in your underwear should not be taken lightly, but in the race to cook three pounds of bacon in thirty minutes, sometimes one must make sacrifices.