I am about to break rules 1 and 2 for just a single paragraph, and absolutely no more.

I now know about 4chan. I understand 4chan. I am afraid of 4chan. And I am awed by 4chan. It is a beautiful and terrible place, where all pictures and files are found, internet memes so powerful that they transfer into the IRL plane of existence are created, politically and morally incorrect laughs are had, and innocence is taken. It is a network widely felt, but rarely talked about. Just remember: 4chan is watching you. And it wants MOAR.



***

I don’t know about the North , West , Mid-west, the Mid-east, or the half-way-north-easternly-wayward-son parts of America are, but in the South, summer means bumblebees galore. I have no idea where these things come from. Either they become invisible to the naked eye during the rest of the seasons, or they hide in an underground cave with Bin Ladin until they just get bored and come back up for flowers; either option is not very comforting.

But with lemons, one must make lemonade. As such, I have created a new sport: Bumblebee Bashing.

You will need:
1. A large supply of bumblebees
2. A tennis racket
3. Quick reflexes
4. A good battle cry when you whack one out of the air
5. The ability to not cry like a pansy when they sting you
6. Some sort of deadly chemical to spray into the air at the Chuck Norris bumblebee that you will inevitably be unable to defeat.



My dog eagerly watched as I went on my first hunting outing. He is an old devotee of Bumblebee Swallowing, a related sport which I do not complete in, for personal reasons (re: I’m not a dog).

There was much swinging, threatening, and gnashing of teeth.

5 minutes, 7 slain bumblebees and 0 stings later, I decided to quit while I was ahead. Those things do not appreciate newbies; they react angrily to near-misses, flying a couple feet above you and then dive-bombing in a desperate attempt to sting you in the eye for your failures. When they do this, do not scream like a little girl. They can sense fear. It will only excite them.

Now I'm Scared...

Favorite Phrases Translated

Nike: My better is better than you better

Chinese: My chi is more centered than you chi

Japanese: My anime rape is harder than your anime rape.

Iraqi: My jihad is more senseless than your jihad.

France: Your better may be better than my better, but fuck you, I surrender.

Cuban: My cigar is better than you cigar because mine is Bill Clinton-approved.

New Zealand: My goat is better than you goat.

Finland: My beard has more leftover food stuck in it than you beard.

Ireland: My drunken rage is more violent than your drunken rage.

***

Toyota: Moving Forward

Southern America: We’re elitist foreigners who know how to do math. Buy our cars!

Western America: We’re hip and cool, although our cars may kill you. Get one now!

Northern America: I live in the city and sit in traffic for a living. I already own a Toyota.

Mid-West America: Get Sarah Palin to say the catchphrase, and maybe I’ll consider it.

Japan: Goddamnit, you stupid Americans. Just buy the fucking cars. It’s not like Ford is any better.

***

Allstate: Are you in good hands?

Non-customers of Allstate: Probably; did you hear how deep that dude’s voice is? He MUST know what he’s doing.

Customers of Allstate: No. Clearly, I am in the hands of an angry God who sees my daily sins and has decided it’s time for the shit to hit the fan.

*****

Now… congress is full of idiots, we know this. Proven scientific fact. Another fact: When not “debating” (re: screaming bloody murder over apostrophe placement), they are terribly, terribly bored.

Apparently, this congressman (Hank Johnson, proud House representative of my home state of Georgia – home to the 45th education ranking in the whole stupid-ass nation) believes that Guam will tip over because it has too many people on it (presumably, on "everybody go stand on the east side of the Island" day).

I have no words.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNZczIgVXjg

At least the less-dumb guy, the military one, is aware of the ridiculosity of this whole idea; that much tells me that it’s not quite time to destroy humanity yet (just be patient, Priscilla, the time will come).

But SERIOUSLY? Guam will CAPSIZE?

Goodness…

There Is A Lizard Living In My Ceiling

I have discovered the joys of “mudding”, and the fabulous cooking possibilities of 3 foot tall flames today. As a bonus, I shot a mailman’s truck with a BB gun. Twice.


(This isn't me)

There is a trail/field off of a road near my home that I heard about recently and visited about a week ago. I had so much near-catastrophic fun that I decided to bring some friends along today. Almost got stuck three times, hit the redline on my Jeep once, bottomed out the suspension numerous times, and scraped the undercarriage on some rather sturdy, packed-in dirt that was sandwiched by giant mud-filled ruts. I also nearly tipped over my vehicle if it hadn’t been for some deft maneuvering on my part. And luck, don’t forget about that. Luck was with me today.

I would like to suggest to you that if you find yourself behind the (steering) wheel of a two-wheel drive SUV with above-average ground clearance that you do not despair; you are not barred from the world of natural mud-slinging. *Yoda voice* Keep your wits about you, you must; drive skillfully you must, but get stuck you will not.

The fire portion of my day: Yesterday I tried to grill hamburgers. Efforts to do this failed due to simple issues with the grill that were not discovered until an hour after diner time. The proposed solution to these problems was to add wood chips to the grill. Today, that “solution” was shown to be more of a “safety risk”.

(This is after 2 full cups of water being poured on the grill)

Today I opened the gas tank, lit the fire, and walked away for 10 minutes to let the grill heat up, as usual. When I returned, an apocalyptic scene of hell, fire and brimstone greeted me. It was if some neighborhood Iraqui had taken it upon himself to exact revenge for the destruction wrought to his country by pouring a fucking tank of lighter fluid on my grill. Smoke was pouring out of holes and gaps that I weren’t even aware existed in my poor little grill. As soon as I opened the lid, I had to dodge eyebrow-singeing flames that were jumping at least a yard into the air. As I took stock of the situation, from a couple yards away, I noticed that a piece of foam, about 2 feet by 1 foot, was ablaze, right next to the tank of natural gas. Reasoning that this was most likely bad, I went inside and returned quickly with 2 full cups of water. Dousing the foam-flame took 2 more cups of water, calming the actual grill fire took the same. Much sizzling and smoking ensued.

Once the grill had cooled down, a good 75% of the wood chips were removed. Re-lighting the fire, I proceeded to cook hamburgers in 1/3 of the normal time. Grilling has just become fun again.

As for the “Newman” portion of my day... Well, that’s pretty straight-forward. I was outside with my dog and heard the mailman coming, so I went inside to get my BB gun, and I shot it from behind a fence. I dropped down behind the fence, out of sight, giggled profusely for a couple seconds, laid the gun down, and walked calmly back into view of the mailman and to my dog. No one knew.
I shot it again as it left my col-de-sac.

Oh, and about the title of this entry (“There is a lizard living in my ceiling”), there really is. I saw it about 3 weeks ago. I had been doing schoolwork in my basement, sitting at my desk, and had been hearing some small scittering noises in the background. I’m fairly convinced that there are a few rats in the basement walls, so I thought nothing of it, until I realized that the sounds were coming from above.
My basement ceiling is made up of those white, sheetrock-ish tiles that are pocketed with dozens of small holes. There are also some fluorescent lights, and under these lights there are clear, plastic tiles in place of the sheetrock ones.
When I looked up, I saw the belly of a lizard walking around on the tile. Instead of taking the tile down and trying to get it, I just watched and laughed. Guess that’s because I’m not a homeowner yet.

I'm bad with names, so I'm just going to call you "stupid". That ok by you?

The signs of the times are here. Public schools are failing, and have been for decades it appears. Could there possibly be this many stupid people?


Now, I know what you’re thinking. “This couldn’t be what it looks like. Who in the world would have a sign stating that a parking space is temporarily closed cemented into said parking space?” A city official from the south, that’s who. The thing you must remember is that this is Georgia, where rednecks run free and unchecked in society. I can only imagine what Alabama’s version of this mishap would be (Misspelling the word “temporarily”, perhaps?).

Clearly, we have ourselves a dilemma. There is something wrong with this picture. This sign has been right there on Main Street in my town for over four years. The issue we find ourselves deliberating here is “What constitutes temporary?” Asphalt typically lasts ten to twenty years, and sometimes longer. So basically, once we’re all flying around in hybrid jetpacks and Jetson’s cars, this parking spot will be open. That is, if we are to believe the sign.

This represents all that is wrong with the bureaucracy today. The parking space cannot simply be left alone to be a bit smaller than normal or efforts made to eliminate it completely. There has to be a $200 sign telling you that you temporarily can’t park there. One would assume that once cars become two feet shorter or the space magically assumes standard proportions that it will then be open and the sign removed, but I’m not betting for either of those things to happen.

We as a society just like making official-looking signs for no good reason. It makes us feel smart. It makes us look professional. It gives us something to do. Despite that fact that we are dumb, non-professional slackers who could probably be doing something much more productive, we still find it necessary to make government-certified, expensive, and pointless signs to state the obvious.

Want proof? Look around at your local grocery store or public school. Notice the sign right before the speed bump? And do you see what it says? “Bump”. Thank God for that sign because otherwise I would have sped right over that giant, yellow, concrete protrusion from the ground without a second thought. How about those “slippery when wet” signs? Talk about a life-saver. I was always under the impression that the more wet things got, the dryer they became.

So, the point I am making here is hurray pointless signs! They make the dumb ones of us feel smart and make the smart ones of us laugh. In the astute words of Forrest Gump, “Stupid is as stupid does.”

A Facebook Funny

I don't like plaugurizing, so I'll admit that this isn't my own. I found this little story on the Facebook fanpage "The best answer to any exam question ever (you don't have to become a fan to see)" - http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-best-answer-to-an-exam-question-ever-dont-have-to-become-a-fan-to-see/418777278975?ref=nf

I doubt that this is real since it is the Internetz, the land of porn, gamers, and losers like myself typing amusing stories for a handfull of people to read.

But, who cares? It's funny.

Enjoy.

**********

HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT

The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid term.

The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :


Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.'


THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

Run Somewhere, But Not The Hills. They Have Eyes. It's Kinda Creepy.

It appears that some form of Government Healthcare that Obama is cool with has passed the House and Senate. So now this is the part where everyone with a mouth and an opinion (including, but not limited to, intelligent and informed ones) yells at or types in all caps at whoever disagrees with them. We have a limited-time excuse to let out our inner retard! Don't delay!

On a related note, Glenn Beck is on the air 4 hours a day. Just thought you should know.



Between his 3-hour radio show on at 9am to noon (eastern) and his 1hr tv show on fox at 5pm eastern, he’s visible/audible for roughly 25% of our waking hours; 16.6% of your day if you’re a freak who doesn’t sleep.

If I was world dictator, there are a lot of things I would do. Making a limit to the amount of time ANYONE can be heard or seen on a mass scale would chief among them. Is it humanly possible that Glenn Beck has 4 hours worth of intelligence, good advice, and humor in him? Does ANYONE?

I am without exception here, folks. There is no way that I should be allowed to rant for 4 hours where people can hear me. Do you have any idea how many stupid things I say in just an hour? 25 minutes ago, when I was playing CoD4, I screamed out “In Soviet Russia. . . I kill YOU! Run, hippie, run! I make you poop your pants!” There is no reason at all for there to be 4 hours of that kind of retardation easily accessible to children, or anyone with a set of eyes and ears, really.

**********

I’m starting to consider making Cracked.com my homepage. This is a seriously big deal for me. I value the sanctity of my homepage. Right now, on my awesome Google Chrome homepage, it shows my top eight most-visited sites. To knock off something so incredibly convenient and stalker-friendly, Cracked.com would have to be something seriously fantastic. And it is. Check it out. I’m sure I’ll be mentioning it more as the blog goes on.

http://www.cracked.com/

Sharing With The Class

I will try to keep the focus of this blog on (hopefully) intelligent entertainment most of the time. However, I will occasionally go off on a serious tangent, and this is one of those times. Humor-seekers, skip to the next post. Anyone interested in talking about one of the taboo twos (religion and politics), read on.

**********

The reason I believe in Christianity is that it is the only religion (to my knowledge) that has the idea of grace as a core principle; grace here meaning acceptance of your faults as long as you believe in the existence of God/Jesus and want to follow them in a journey for truth and a life spent adhering to truth. Many of the philosophical underpinnings of Christianity align with my own, which is another reason. But grace is the key one.

Grace is a part of unconditional love, which I view as one of the three purposes to life (searching for contentment and pursuing shallow pleasures being the others).

However, I don’t like going to church because it seems the focus is on all the small things, the details. I’m not very interested in hashing out all the ticky-tack rules about what you should and should not do. Issues like “is watching an R-rated movie ok for your children? Is it ok for you?” feel too specific and elementary for me. I hold the idea that almost all of these “theological detail” decisions should be made on an individual basis.

To use the example of an R-rated movie: I don’t think that viewing a sin is in itself a sin. Committing a sin is a sin, obviously, but just watching something isn’t sinful. If watching something evil turns you in that direction instead of leading you to learn about that evil and how to avoid it, then it’s a bad idea for that person to watch an R-rated movie. If you find yourself learning from something like the Saw series and thinking introspectively about your own morals, then it’s perfectly ok, and even healthy for that person to watch R-rated movies.

At this point in my life, I’m focused on learning from experiences and from analyzing anything/anyone worth the attention. Church feels like going back to kindergarten and arguing about elementary things that are of the utmost importance to honest church-goers but are now underpinnings not worth arguing about for me.

It's not that I am in denial that there is the possibility that I am wrong; far from it. I think doubt is a healthy and necessary thing. But there are certain things I am quite sure about, and other things that I would much rather talk about and try to figure out than "will cussing send you to Hell?" I already cuss and I don't plan on stopping, so lets just move on to something more difficult, people.

And that’s just dealing with the truly honest Christians that go to church; the number of people who go there merely for a spiritual high or because they think they’re obligated to go is quite high. I’m not interested in the least in being around those people.

***

I’ll end on a humorous note. If someone characterized Christianity as this, what would you say in reply?

Christianity is the belief that a cosmic Jewish Zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat from a magical tree.

That Mouth Holds A Big Foot

So today I got my haircut, which is something I always dread. Small talk is maddening and I’m not very good at it either. Finding some mindless topic to chatter on about takes great effort for me, so today when I had a good topic, I was very proud of myself.

The fact that the topic might be a social taboo didn’t occur to me. It should have.

This morning, one of the parking decks at my college was closed from at least 9am to 11am. I found out a little bit later that it was because a girl, a student there, had committed suicide by jumping off of the 9-story parking deck.

My idiot self thought this was a fascinating event that deserved to be my conversation-starter for the rest of the day.

Once I had driven to the local Easy Hair and was settling into my chair, I broke out my line.

“Well my day’s been interesting (complete and utter lie). When I got to college today, one of the parking decks was completely shut down. Turns out somebody committed suicide by jumping off of it.”

“Oh my God, that’s HORRIBLE!”

Right about now I realized the amount of social trouble I was in. I had just said something to my haircutter-lady that rocked her world in a bad way. Apparently, she thought suicides only happen on TV.

When I heard there was a suicide, I shrugged. A bunch of adolescents and early “adults” put into close quarters with each other, the pressure of grades, the ever-presence of alcohol and drugs sometimes putting people into a depressed mood – I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often to be honest.

I may not have shared her shocked sentiment, but I realized that I had to recover fast or else I was going to be getting one shitty haircut, and have to sit through awkward silence the whole way through.

Thinking quickly, I replied “Yeah! Can you imagine what her family must be going through? Such a shame. But she picked a good day to do it; the weather is incredible.”

“Oh isn’t it? It already feels like summer!”

Now it was my turn to be shocked. The quip about the weather came out without me even thinking; the second I said it, I wanted it back in my mouth. I couldn’t believe she actually took the bait.

Thank God for people with short attention spans. Saving the socially awkward each and every day.

**********

On a (more than) slight side note, I noticed that Wal-Mart is the people-watcher's paradise today. It gave me an idea for a new blog post. HINT: It involves women drivers, and those god-awful ear piece cell phones.

De-Inspirational quote of the day:
Jon Stewart: Do you enjoy hearing other people’s problems?
Jerry Seinfeld: Yeah. They’re funny. Haven’t you found as a married man when you sit with other guys and they tell you what’s going on in their marriage, the worse it is, the more you laugh?

Talking Heads

The following is a phone conversation I had with a friend. Enjoy, and please don't hate me.

**********

“So what are you doing for your spring break, Jesse?”

“I’m going out to Milledgeville, about 2 ½ hours away, to hang out with my friend at his dorm.”

“What are ya’ll going to do there?”

“Go mudding, he’s going to make me watch the entire first season of Dexter, and… we’ll probably set lots of things on fire.”

*laughs “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah that’s my idea of a good weekend. Mud, murder and fire.”

“What are you going to set on fire?”

“Whatever looks like it should be burned. Well, not anything living. Except for plants, trees, bushes, stuff like that.”

“Not much of a tree-hugger I take it?”

“Definitely not. I’m not interested in driving around cars that make no sound and look like a Rubik’s cube.”

“Don’t you want to save the environment?”

“Dude, human beings and all of our crappy, smoking, smelly machines make up about 1% of the CO2 in the world. All of the termites in the world create more CO2 in a year than all the cars in America do in a year. So instead of driving around shitty cars, I think we should have a mass termite holocaust. Which we could only do by dumping lots of nasty chemicals into the ground, which would be the pinnacle of irony.”

“Where did you hear those stats?”

“A British journalist. Jeremy Clarkson’s his name. Never looked them up to make sure though. But no, I don’t care about the environment. The environment can kiss my ass. I’m never going to own a Ford Focus and drive a vehicle that has an eco-friendly top speed of 80.”

“So you’d rather rape the land?”

“Yes, yes I would. I think you’ve got it, man. I want to rape this land, and rape it good! The previous generations clearly didn’t give a shit about us and the next generation will see us as the worthless history they shouldn’t have to learn, so they won’t give a shit about us either. Why in the world should I sacrifice fun in my life for a generation of people that I don’t know, don’t care about, and who don’t care about me? The answer is that I shouldn’t. We figured out how to cope with the shoddily-built industrial cities that the past generations saw fit to burden us with. We used our technology to deal with it. Let the new residents figure out our mess. I’m not the earth’s landlord; I don’t care what happens to it. And you don’t either.”

“I care.”

“Why?”

“Because we should. It’s important to leave things how you got them.”

“Oh is it now? What, like how we treat rental cars so well? Give me a break. It’s a fad, it’ll go away eventually.”

“Ignoring problems always makes them go away.”

“Most of them, yeah. Because they weren’t solvable or real in the first place.”

“You’re such a pessimist.”

“I see the glass as half-empty because I saw the damn fool who came in and drank the first part of the glass. I know it used to be full and now it ain’t.”

Story Time With Uncle Jesse

So, today I made a mid-day Publix run and was almost carjacked. Let me explain.

Since I am a college student, I pretty much live off of frozen pizza and Dr. Pepper. I was low on the liquid and out of the pizza, so to Publix I went.

It’s raining, which just makes driving even more awesome. I have this strange driving fetish where I absolutely love driving in the rain. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.

Anyways, I drove there, got my goods, and walked out. I was sitting in my car, engine running, buckling my seatbelt like a good citizen, and some dude, maybe in his mid-twenties, comes to my window with a slightly agitated look on his face. He’s saying something and since he presumably wants me to hear him, so I roll down my window.

“Hey man, can I pay you for a ride just up the street? It’s raining and I don’t want to walk.”

You should have thought of this ahead of time when you decided to be 25 and have no car I thought.

What I said, pretty much automatically, was “No man, I’ve got to go somewhere right now.” I mean, I’m in a car; that much should be pretty self-evident. But I wasn’t really interested in giving the guy a ride.

No, he wasn’t black. I didn’t deny a car-less black man a ride up the street. I denied a car-less white guy, in a jacket, a ride up the street. It’s not like he was naked and completely defenseless against the condensation falling from the sky. He wasn’t going to catch pneumonia. He wasn’t going to drown either. He had on boots, jeans, a ragged shirt and a jacket. I felt he was perfectly prepared to walk a little ways up the street, even if it was raining.

The fact that people don’t typically walk up to a running car and ask to pay for a ride wasn’t the thing that made me lock all the doors to my car when he walked away; there was a little bit more to it.

The fact that a guy who doesn’t have a car has money to throw around for rides struck me as odd. The fact that as I sat in my (now locked) car for another minute or so, watching him ask at least 5 other people if they could drive him “just up the street” was more what did it for me. If he was in such a hurry to get up the street and out of the rain, why not just START WALKING? Spending another minute standing around in the rain, which he was so focused on getting out of, didn’t make much sense to me. Once you're wet, you're wet; There's no 5 second rule.

Who knows. Maybe the man was just stupid. Maybe he really did just need to get up the street and was willing to pay someone for the privilege of riding in a dry environment. But I’m going to chose to believe he was trying to carjack somebody. Because that just makes the whole thing almost exciting.

The Mover of Earths

I stumbled across this on the internet(s) and thought it important to share.

What we have here is the most awesome machine ever created.



I found it when I was trolling for Demotivational Posters, of which my hard drive is already filled. For those who don’t know, the basic idea is to find a funny/cool/hot picture and put a snarky or otherwise humorous comment bellow – put a black border around it all and you have yourself a Demotivational Poster. They’re pretty sweet.

Anyways, the giant-ass saw thing. I was disheartened to learn that the saw is not in fact a saw, but a 70-foot diameter wheel with 20 buckets that hold 530 cubic feet of material. To give that some perspective, a new Jeep Grand Cherokee can hold about 70 cubic feet of junk with the seats folded down. So those buckets are the size of cars.

The beast weighs over 45,500 tons and stands 311 feet tall and 705 feet long. The top speed? 1/3 MPH (hahaha!). Gotta wonder what the gas mileage is on it, although I doubt anyone else cares.

It cost $100 million to make, and all it does is move earth. It’s the most badass Tonka truck around.

Earth Mover - The end is extremely fucking nigh.

I’m still gonna call it the giant-ass saw thing though. Beast.

Renaissance Hick

“Full blown nihilism seems kind of emo. Nihilism paired with sadism or pyromania would be a better combination.”

And so begins the blog.

That quote is from a friend of mine, when he and I were talking about nihilism and just how feasible/not feasible it really is. But, like all of my other conversations in 2009, it veered off into talking about the Joker in The Dark Knight. And no, he’s not a nihilist. Don’t even go there; this friend and I debated bitterly about this for hours, because it totally matters.

This being the first blog, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Uncle Jesse, and I’m a bitter, cynical old man of the ripe old age of 18. I go to college, I read a lot, and I’m a smartass. Also, I overuse comas.

That pretty much covers the basics. We’ll come to know each other over time.

I listen to a variety of music. As long as it’s emotionally intense, I’ll listen to it. Right now, I’m on a movie soundtrack kick. I’m listening to The Dark Knight soundtrack at the moment, and I’m getting seriously stressed-out. The slow build-up on the first track, where that screeching violin-sound backed by trumpets does nothing but put you on edge. Thank God I don’t have turrets or else I’d be blurting out vile thoughts about Tela Techila right now (Oh, did I forget to mention I’m insensitive too? Yeah. Well… Japs, towel-heads, hymie!!)

As a general rule, I hate movies due to the fact that most elementary school kids can (and do) write far more interesting and original stories than Quentin Tarantino would on crack. I mean really, how many dirty cops and revenge-seeking widows and horny teens do I really need to see? It gets old.

The Dark Knight was a rare exception for me. I’m not going to launch into a review here, because there isn’t anything new I can add to the millions of other “reviews” out there. But I loved the movie, thought the Joker was a crazy-ass psycho, and I wanna meet the dude if he really existed. Emo Batman needs to go, but the Joker was pretty cool.

***REAL TIME ALERT TO A SIGNIFICANT EVENT


I just found out that Stone Cold Steve Austin is guest-hosting WWE Raw next Monday! As any pro wrestling fan knows, WWE died the day Stone Cold quit his nightly appearances and “retired”, sort of, even though wrestlers never really retire. They just die of an enlarged heart or go crazy (I didn’t mention and names… C.B…. calm down wrestling purists).

But next Monday he’ll be back on! Oh yeah! This is cause for celebration… well not really. It’s cause to finally record an episode of Raw, and then fast-forward through 80% of it the next day… but hey, it’s something!

On that bombshell, I’m ending this post. AND THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE, BECAUSE STONE COLD SAYS SO!