Happy birthday, dear blog

The blog is one year old today, so I thought I'd recap the events of the last year, in case you missed it:

1. Tried to exercise everyday, but the siren song of the sofa was too great to resist. (August)

2. Attempted to quit smoking and failed miserably. (August)

3. Worked a shitload of overtime, drank a lot of alcohol and played the hell out of the Gamecube. (Continuous)

4. Broke up with my live-in girlfriend, continued to live together and wound up in People Magazine as a result. (October through May)

5. Compared myself to a mass murderer. (August)

6. Three Weddings. (Two in October, one in November, one in April)

7. Got hooked on Myspace (November to present)

8. Ran sound and a slideshow for a play.

9. Wrecked one and a half laptops...the second one still works, but has to be hooked up to a monitor. (September and January, respectively)

10. Tried and failed miserably at three potential relationships. I'm now taking some time off until I get my shit together. (December through May)

11. Received a loan from the First National Bank of Stepdad to cover my credit card debts. I'll be done paying them off by this time next year. (March)

12. Moved into my own place. (June)

13. Made it through twelve months of varying degrees of depression and confusion, and I feel that the blog is the reason I'm here today instead of being described by a neighbor as being a quiet man who didn't seem like a serial killer until that standoff with the cops.

My rewind button seems to be stuck

Friday night at the theater, I made a joke (actually, I paraphrased a joke from a comedian I heard years ago) about how Jaws played backwards becomes a movie about a shark that keeps throwing up people until they re-open the beach. I got to thinking about that today and took a good look at my DVD collection and wondered about what they'd be like in reverse.

Here are some of my favorites:

American Beauty: After a quick recovery from a gunshot wound to the head, Kevin Spacey dresses a teenage girl, smokes a lot of pot, lets his body go out of shape and eventually settles into a mundane existance where his wife calls the shots. All the while, his daughter hates him.

Batman Begins: Batman realizes that fighting crime is futile and gives up, saving his parents in the process.

A Beautiful Mind: A genius goes from crazy to just sorta creepy.

The Day the Earth Stood Still: An alien life form sent to earth to save us realizes that we're doomed and leaves us alone to detroy ourselves.

Star Wars: A kid in a space ship conjures up a giant moon-like space craft out of thin air in order to rebuild a planet, and in return, he's sent back to the farm.

Ocean's Eleven: Eleven guys cover their tracks after sneaking a bunch of money into another guy's vault, and George Clooney endsup back in jail as a result.

Sleepy Hollow: In an ironic twist, a headless guy proves to be quite good at re-attaching other people's heads.

Fight Club: Brad Pitt and Edward Norton get sick of beating the crap out of one another and drift apart soon afterwards.


The thing I found weird was that a lot of these movies are basically the same backwards:

Back to the Future: Marty still gets stuck in 1955 and has to get back to 1985, only this time he gets back by driving in reverse out of a barn.

Contact: Aliens still may or may not exist, and it still ends with a chick talking to her father.

Before Sunrise: They're still strangers, they still talk a lot, and they still go their separate ways.

Garden State: Zach Braff still doen't really know what's going on around him.

Memento: 'Nuff Said.

Sharks, nudity and public urination

About a couple weeks ago, when I heard that Jaws was this month's midnight movie at the Circle Cinema, I was toying with the idea that I would have my friends over to my place, have dinner and hang out before heading over to the theater. Those plans changed about five minutes before I was gonna send out the email to my friends, when I got an email from my friend Kim inviting everyone over to her house for her annual backyard jam.

One a year, usually in the spring, Kim has everyone over to her house once she gets her pool ready. We all cook out, swim and since almost all of her friends are musicians, they all jam untill the wee hours of the morning.

I showed up without a swimsuit, but that didn't stop my friend Libby (different Libby, for those of you who've been reading a while) from insisting that I just strip naked and jump in. I opted to just run back to my place to grab my swim trunks. I grabbed an extra pair in case any of the other guys wanted to borrow them.

I left after a couple hours to catch the movie. I had never seen Jaws on a big screen before, or with an audience for that matter. I see the movie much differently now having seen it in a room full of strangers (save for my friends Tony and Jenny). I found myself laughing at parts I never really saw as jokes, jumping at parts I never really saw as all that scary, and I never really noticed how much of the girl skinny-dipping at the beginning's body was actually shown...I blame the transfer quaility on my DVD. After the movie, Tony and Jenny decided not to return to the party with me. By the time I got back, the party had thinned out quite a bit.

There's a trend I've noticed with my friends. Whenever there's a party, and a pool or a hot tub is involved, there's always a chance that the words "Oh my God, you're nude." will be spoken, and odds are I'll be the one saying it. I'm gonna be hazy with the details from here on out. Anyway, only one person was in the pool, naked as a jaybird. As soon as I showed back up, it was demanded that I strip down and get in. Being the pushover I am, and given that it was really dark enough out for any and all self-conscienceness-inducing parts of my body to be obscured, I complied. My first time skinny dipping since college. Once I got in, others followed suit.

Only four little things about this event, and the rest will fall under the "What happens in the pool, stays in the pool category": A) I now know that I've taken the protective qualities of swim trunks for granted. Not that the water was cold, but while jumping in feet first is a wise way to avoid a potential head injury, it doesn't bode well for unprotected testicles. B) Likewise, I never really noticed how powerful pool jets really are, and that was a bit of a shock. C) Between my dating history, a couple of my artsy photographer friends and that pool, my list of female friends that I haven't seen naked has now been narrowed a bit more. And D) I'm blind as a bat without my glasses.

I made it home after four and slept in until noon. The Mythbusters marathon on the Discovery channel ensured that my ass didn't leave the couch until it was time to go work the door at Arnie's.

It was looking to be a fairly uneventful night at Arnie's. I was expecting a packed house, but for some reason it wasn't all that busy. Everything was rather routine for at least half the night...Taking money, checking IDs, telling the panhandlers to get lost...but around midnight a group of four (two guys, two girls) left the bar. I hadn't noticed it at first, but one of the girls had smuggled out a beer. I walked after them to tell them to get back in the bar with it right away, only to catch out of the corner of my eye her boyfriend taking a leak, not next to, but ON my car! Needless to say, I was less concerned about the chick with the beer.

I yelled at the guy, telling him that it was MY car he was pissing on. Now, any person of reasonable sobriety would have ceased and desisted at the words "HEY, STOP PISSING ON MY CAR", however this guy continued as he looked back at me and apologized, never mind the fact that there was a WALL on the other side of him! So, I screamed at him, saying that unless he's pissing Armor-All, that he should turn forty-five degrees to the right and piss on the wall instead. At this point, the girl with the beer knew that I meant business and poured her beer into the bushes, and her boyfriend turned to the wall just in time for the shake-off. Then, in a mind-boggling move, the dude gave me another apology and offered to shake my hand!

Anyway, I told those guys to get lost, which they did, sort of. The started across the street and walked right in front of a car driving down the street. The driver stopped in plenty of time to avoid hitting them, but got out of his car to yell at them anyway. A couple of shoves took place, but the two girls broke it up before it got too heated. I just sttod on the sidewalk with my cell in my hand dialing 9-1 and hovering a finger over 1 the moment that the first punch would be thrown. No such luck. The driver got back in his car and took off, and my hopes to not only see that one guy in handcuffs for assault, public intox, public urination and a complaint for giving my Ford Focus an unwanted "rinse" were dashed.

Kinda makes me wish I had taken better advantage of my bar tab and had a couple more beers, instead of drinking mostly Cokes all night. I'm sitting now at my computer waiting for the Sominex and melatonin to counteract the caffeine and sugar coursing through my veins. Tomorrow, I gotta go into the office for a bit and yank wires out of the room we're getting ready to renovate, go see some of my friends, and wash my car...thoroughly.

Political cures that may be worse than the disease Vol.1: Gay Marriage

The two catchphrases I keep hearing in regards to gay marriage, or more to the point AGAINST gay marriage are "traditional marriage" and "sanctity of marriage".

The problem I have with the term "traditional marriage" is that it is completely meaningless. To me, in order for something to become traditional, it has to have occurred the exact same way many times over. Show me any two marriages that are exactly alike. Sure, they may have several things in common between them, but there's always something that one married person will say to another married person about their respective unions that will sound completely alien to the other. The only real tradition that exists in all marriages is the signing of a wedding license. Up until the 1950's that same term was used to try and dissuade people from marrying outside their race, so how is that supposed to be an argument against gay marriage today?

Okay, on to the second catchphrase: "sanctity of marriage". I find it tronic that many of the pundits and politicians that use that phrase are on their second or third spouse, sometimes beyond that. They claim that if gays and lesbians were allowed to wed, that somehow it would be a threat to straight marriages. They say the divorce rate would rise, that it would be traumatic to any children that came about, etc. As if straight couples, just by virtue of being married, are immune from ever breaking up or screwing up their kids.

So, in the interest of some resolution to this debate, may I suggest the following compromise. Let gays and lesbians get married, but in the interest of "traditional marriage" and the "sanctity of marriage", outlaw divorce.

And to up the ante, and in an attempt to put these political talking heads' money where their mouths are, make the new divorce law retroactive. Any person who has been married more than once are automatically married to their earliest still-living spouse, as if the subsequent marriages never took place. The only way out would be death or annullment, which in keeping with the sprit of the "sanctity of marriage" now will cost one million dollars for each year since the beginning of the marriage.

Let's look at the pros and cons of this plan:

Pro: Half the lawyers in this country will be out of work.

Con: Murder rates would skyrocket.

Pro: Many of those murders would abusive husbands whose wives have long since wised up and are NOT gonna take their shit anymore.

Con: Many of those murders would be the abused wives.

Pro: The murdering husbands would go to jail, where thanks to their muscle-bound, maladjusted cellmate, they would be intruduced to the newly-revised concept of being a prison bride.

Con: The courts would be flooded with child custody hearings from all of the marriages that have been judged null and void.

Pro: The revenue generated from the new anullment costs would take care of the national budget deficit within a year. Trust me, people would FIND the money for the anullment if the marriage was bad enough.

Con: Ironically enough, once the deficit is taken care of, any money that comes in would go to fund whatever war we get involved in next.

Pro: If we play our cards right, that extra cash might go towards education.

Con: Life insurance rates would go through the roof.

Pro: Couples might think a little more clearly about getting married in the first place.

Con: Cheaters would no longer learn their lesson by losing half their stuff in a divorce.

Pro: On the other hand, cheaters would be bound by law to have their lives made a living hell by their angry spouse.

Con: Given the number of divorces we've had in the past few decades, many people affected by the law would usher in a new era of bitterness and cynicism and make the sancity of marriage seem more like a curse.

Gee, wouldn't be a whole hell of a lot easier to just let gays and lesbians get married?

Yes, we elected this guy...sorry about that.

In Saturday's Tulsa World, our senator (lack of capitalization intentional) James Inhofe had this to say about recent reports on global warming:

“It kind of reminds . . . I could use the Third Reich, the big lie.”

He also restated (that means he's said this many times before) that the threat of global warming is “the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on the American people”. Wanna know the most mind-boggling part of this? This man is the Chairman of the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee! He's in charge of determining congressional policy in regards to our environment! Sweet zombie Jesus, I know we don't have any mountains around here, but that doesn't mean the world is flat.

Comparing scientists, and their pesky facts, to Nazis?!? I'm getting so sick of politicians comparing people with opposing viewpoints to the perpetrators of the Holocaust. Now, if every scientist on the planet was calling for everyone who owns a Hummer be put in the gas chamber, they might have a point...but they're not! And to have a senator from a state that has experienced its highest temperatures in decades, whose tornado seasons and droughts have gotten worse with each passing year to say that every reputable scientist in the world is completely full of shit?!? Just thinking about it is is making my right eye twitch uncontrollably.

Sorry to break this to you, Jimmy, but global warming is very real. Glaciers around the world are diminishing, so much so that Greenland is starting to actually live up to its name, so much so that it is believed that Antarctica will be able to sustain plant growth in the next twenty years. Temperatures have risen worldwide so much so that resort hotels built right next to the Dead Sea fifty years ago no longer have a naked eye view of the water today, so much so that DENVER reached triple-digit temperatures last week. You can bury your head in the sand if you want to, but those of us that accept the facts are still gonna remind you that the sand was fertile soil up until a few years ago.

Most arguments I've heard from people like Inhofe who dispute science's prognosis of the environment claim that the biggest threats to our atmosphere are volcanoes and cattle flatus. (Bet you never thought you'd read those two things in the same sentence, huh?) While I can't say there's anything we can do about volcanoes, you know, other than NOT to build houses on them and later wonder why there's magma in the den, I will say this about cows: Who is responsible for there being so many damned cows on the planet? Who has completely bred out any and all of the cow's original evolutionary instincts they need to live on it's own in the wild? Who has clear cut millions of acres of natural forests to make room for grazing land? Who fills them full of corn, oats and hay, giving them the fuel needed to produce the most toxic farts this side of the kraut tent at Oktoberfest? It's MAN, you moron!

I don't know about you, but I've never heard of ozone alert day around a volcano. I've never seen a government issued smog warning over a cattle farm. No, those kinds of things only happen in heavily-populated industrial areas...like most places in America...including Oklahoma, Mr. Inhofe. When I was a little kid, I remember being told that asthma was something you're born with, now it's something an otherwise healthy person can develop when the air around them is polluted. Twenty-two years ago, I remember it snowing during spring break, now you get away with wearing shorts at Thanksgiving. When I was twelve, it would take about an hour for my pasty white skin to crack and peel, now I can get the same effect in half the time.

You know what, go ahead and say what you want about the enviromental movement, senator. Go ahead and believe what you want to believe about global warming. but before you go out and preach against science, realize that you're up against some pretty heavy FACTS here, and in order to convince the people of your convenient truth, the burden of proof lies on you. First, please consider the following:

If a person stays in their closed garage with their car running, it'll kill them. Now, think of all the running cars on the planet, and remember that our atmosphere is, technically, an enclosed space.

If you believe that industry doesn't affect the environment, try living downstream from a chemical factory.

If you don't believe recycling can make a difference, then we'll start tossing our empties on YOUR front yard instead.

How about that, senator, do we have a deal? With great power (even if it's cronyistically appointed power) comes great responsibility. You're responsible for making policies that might actually keep us alive long enough to re-elect your sorry ass. Start acting like it.

One delightful, albeit twisted piece of mind-fuck

A Scanner Darkly...I've seen it, and oh man, where to begin...

Every review I've seen of the film compares it to director Richard Linlater's previous animated film Waking life. However, that's where the similaritie end. Waking Life was animated to simulate a dream world, while A Scanner Darkly is more of a drug state. In both cases, it's very effective. I'm very thankful they didn't advertise this move as "from the director of School of Rock and Bad News Bears", because that would only cause a lot of people to leave the theater severely pissed.

Leaving the theater this afternoon, it took me a few minutes to re-adjust to reality...honestly, this is the first film to give me vertigo afterwards. Seeing it on DVD won't be the same as seeing in the big screen. To simulate the experience, try looking at yourself in the mirror after staring at magic eye puzzles for three straight hours. You'll see some spooky shit you know you're not supposed to be seeing.

Also, the performances of Robert Downey, Jr., Woody Harrelson and Rory Cochrane serve as the best anti-drug message ever in the history of film. These guys are tweaking their asses off the whole time they're on the screen. In a smart move, they never show any of the "benefits" of the drugs they're taking, only how the drugs have taken their toll on their minds and bodies. Wanting to do drugs after this movie, providing you didn't take some beforehand, is like taking a smoke break during The Insider, or going out for a drink after Leaving Las Vegas, or trying to be a dick after watching Passion of the Christ. It can be done, but it'll be a bittersweet experience.

A lot of reviewers criticize Keanu Reeves' performance in this film, but I felt he did a good job. I mean, it's Keanu Reeves, for Christ's sake. You can't expect oscar-caliber from this guy, but in this case, he plays to his strengths. Nobody gives blank stares to a world he doesn't understand like Keanu Reeves. At least he never said "Whoa!"

Plus, it's based on a Phillip K. Dick novel, and in my opinion, films based on his works are always as good as the source material. Blade Runner and Minority Report were excellent because the novels were great as well. Paycheck and Imposter sucked because the books sucked. A Scanner Darkly was written when Phillip K. Dick was deep into his drug addictions, and it shows in the story. The confusion and paranoia is palpable, and the new-world-order/conspiracy sublots of the story make it all justifiable.

A Scanner Darkly is not for everyone. The animation style is far from mainstream Disney fare, the dialogue screams indie film, and the situations will turn off 90% of viewers not familiar with the filmmakers' earlier works. Case in point: there were ten people in the theater with me when the movie started, and six when it ended. Not bad for one of Linklater's "arty" flicks playing in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

All in all, I loved it. If it had been done in live action, and with a bigger budget, it would have sucked. The twist ending was pulled off with great care; not letting you in on too much foreshadowing like M. Night Shyamalan has crammed in our heads time and time again. That is to say, there's a reason that lesson number one in film school is to cater to the dumbest person in the audience and spell everything out beforehand.

The animation gave the film a hand-made craftsmanship that a lot of reviewers failed to see as anything other than a gimmick. This is ultimately a story about drug addiction and it's effect on your mind and how you see the world. Recovering addicts never see the world as they saw it before they started. There's always residual effects, and this movie recognizes that. Having the last part of the movie switch to live action would have ruined the whole experience, and that's EXACTLY what would've happened if Hollywood had gotten hold of it.

I do offer this word of caution: Don't turn your brain off if you choose to see this film. If you give the film your undivided attention, you won't be disappointed. Keeping an open mind will reward you. However, it's not one of those indie films that's too smart for it's own good and it doesn't talk down to you if you don't fully get it. If you want mindless fun, Fast and the Furious is right across the hall.

I AM supposed to be here today.

This afternoon, I caught a matinee of Clerks II. I've been looking forward to this flick for a while, and I've had high hopes and great fears in how it would turn out. All I can say is: Bravo, Kevin Smith.

I was worried how it would change my view of the first film, but Clerks II manages to carry it's own weight. Sure, it's the same characters, but in the timeline, it's ten years later, and the characters have managed to grow a bit (even thought their situations haven't) in that time. At the core, they're the same as we remember them, but where the first one had them facing a bleak and uncertain future, this time around they're facing the possibility that any bright future has long since past, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

In the first one, Dante was unwilling to make changes for himself. This time, he's willing to take the first thing that comes along. In this case, it's his domineering fiancee Emma. Their taking off for Florida in the morning, her parents are gonna give them a house, and let Dante run one of their car washes down there.

Randal, on the other hand, has gone from the smartass everyone wants to be to the bitter asshole no one wants to admit being friends with. This feels very natural for his character. He used to come off as simply protective of his best friend Dante and overly sure of himself, but now with Dante leaving, he doesn't know how to handle his feelings of loss, and wonders what he'll do from here on.

Jay & Silent Bob are back, and trust me, even if the rest of the film sucked, their scenes would be more than worth the price of admission.

The new characters fit really well. Emma is the kind of person you know is all wrong for Dante, but you kinda understand why Dante is willing to go along with her. Elias, the super-nerdy jesus freak is a great character for Randal to play off of, and it helps Randal face the reality of Dante's departure when he realizes that this kids may be Dante's heir apparent. Becky, the manager of the restaurant, holds her own against Randal's constant antagonism and proves as the positive force Dante's been needing in his life. You can't help but fall in love with her.

When I first heard that the Quick Stop and RST video was not gonna be the setting for the sequel, I was more than a bit concerned. I thought it was a bad idea to just take these two characters and just put them in a fast-food restaurant. It seemed cheesy and contrived, but as it turns out, it works out perfectly. The convenience store plays into a great plot device that left me feeling really good when the credits rolled at the end.

Clerks II is a much more polished film than the first one, in style AND in story. The first one gave many varied paths to the same lesson in the end. This time, the moral of the story changes from one minute to the next and depending on your point of view. To me, it sums up like this: Sometimes, the hand that you hold is the hand that holds you down...Sometimes, the hand that holds you down is the hand that keeps you from falling any further...and sometimes it's the hand that pulls you back on your feet.

I love Kevin Smith's films. It's not just the dialogue, not just the humor...it's the timing. The simple truth is that his films always come out at the perfect time in my life.

I saw Clerks and Mallrats on video, and I saw both of them on the same night. This was when I was about 21, when I was first on my own, and I was feeling a little doubtful about my current station in my life. Both films had an underlying message that if anything was to change in my life, that I needed to take the initiative myself instead of cursing the universe for dealing me a shitty hand.

Chasing Amy was the first of his flicks I saw in a theater, and it was at a time that I was in a relationship that I knew was more or less doomed to fail...one of the big issues was that I was young and inexperienced and this girl was not really ready for anything serious after her divorce. Chasing Amy helped put several things in perspective and allowed me the courage to confront the problems I was facing.

Dogma helped me in a time when my faith was being tested. I felt like I had no drive, and that every thing I did was out of habit rather than any real motovation in my life. I felt like I wasn't a very good person at that time, and while I didn't come away with any real answers, I did leave the theater with a deeper sense of purpose. Like the film said, it doesn't matter what you have faith in, just as long as you have faith.

I saw Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back the day I broke up with my fiancee. I decided to go out for a while after our initial argument that got rather intense. It was a perfect distraction (as part of a double feature with American Pie 2) from the to-be-continued that waited for me back home. Not that the film had any real message that I could apply to my situation, but it was a great excuse to turn my brain off for a couple hours.

Jersey Girl came out at another time in my life where I was questioning my station in life, in addition to coming to terms with recently uncovered truths about my father and his indescretions. The themes of having your life turned upside down, not realizing how you're blessed and fatherhood had me weeping like a little girl with a skinned knee and shit (to paraphrase Jay).

Clerks II touched upon some of the same doubts I face now as I reach the thirty-year mark. I left the theater feeling a lot better than when I came in. Are my best days behind me? No, it's never too late to change. Do those bad times I had in the past mean I've wasted my life? Hell no, they've made me the person I am today. Do I know what the hell I'm doing? No, but it's all a leap of faith. Now all I need are more dick jokes.

Flash forward, flash back.

It's a strange thing about last night's post. Today on my way home, I was behind a pickup truck with bumper stickers of the Grateful Dead, the Beatles, Bob Marley and Bob Dylan...and one that read "I brake for anything BUT a liberal". Are these people severely conflicted or just totally clueless?

The boss has been on vacation this week, which means it's been quiet. Any work that's come across my desk has gotten done in record time because it's been so easy to work without a foot up my ass. Aside for a couple choppy moments, it's been smooth sailing. However, this afternoon I went into hyper cover my own ass mode; making sure everything was in it's place for when the big man comes back and freaks right out...not because anything's wrong, just because he's been out of the loop for a week.

Tonight, I'm laying low. I'm gonna clean up the apartment, catch up on my DVR, and re-watch Clerks before I see the sequel tomorrow.

Last night, it dawned on me that Monday was my Dad's birthday. He would have been 54 years old this year. Trying to fall asleep last night I got to thinking about the impact he made on my life. It's been almost eighteen years since he passed, and it's been everything I found out about him after he died that's made a bigger impact than the 12 years I had with him before then.

I'm turning thirty in just a few weeks, and I'm still learning for these lessons my father left behind. His infidelity to my mother shaped my attitude towards relationships. In that case, I vowed never to give into temptation when I'm involved with someone, which has been a tight rope because in hindsight many the relationships I've been faithful to were never strong or "real" enough to warrant that policy. I finished college, something he never did, and in a field that he would've loved to be a part of. And as hard as I am on myself most of the time, I take pride in the fact that my Dad would be proud of me if he was here today.

This September, on the anniversary of his death, I'm gonna take a little road trip and visit his grave and the place he crashed his hang glider, causing his death. The ramp he launched from that day is now overgrown with trees, all the souvenir shops (not because of the hang gliding ramp, mind you) around it have long since closed, and Mt. Gaylor is now a ghost town. The fences they put up to keep people off the launch ramp have been beat down and if memory serves, is littered with discarded beer cans, no doubt from teenagers. Not many people pass by there nowadays, and none of them know the story of what happened there 18 years ago.

Too bad we liberals want to ban those long-range sniper rifles

I have found it. The most useless, most confusing and confounding bit of information EVER. In an attempt to try and find out more about Ann Coulter WITHOUT having to actually read her bile. I guess it was one of those "know thy enemy" situations. I was hoping to dig up something from her past, that would give me some sort of psychological clue into why she's such a horrible person, and I found one tidbit that threw me for a loop.

Well, according to her Wikipedia article, she's a big fan of the Grateful Dead.

Jerry Bear must be doing backflips in his grave. I mean, this is Ann Coulter we're talking about here. The woman who once said to a disabled Vietnam vet, "No wonder you guys lost." The same person who believes that the U.S. would be better off if women weren't allowed to vote...Who once called for the poisoning of a Supreme Court Justice and the bombing of the New York Times...Who once referred to the Democratic National Convention as the "Spawn of Satan Convention", and some of the women in attendance as "corn-fed, no make-up, natural fiber, no-bra needing, sandal-wearing, hirsute, somewhat fragrant hippie chick pie wagons."

Can you just picture her twirling in a hemp sundress, flowers in her hair, singing along to Uncle John's Band? To me, that image is about as reasonable as Hitler in the front row of a Paul Simon concert.

She believes that the Bible is the driving force for her to expose the "lies" and "deceit" of the political left. I'm thinking she never got past the Old Testament. I understand that free speech goes both ways. People have the right to say whatever they want, whether it is something that you whole-heartedly agree with, or if it's something that makes your blood curdle. But seriously, why is it that people like this get so much airtime?

There are two reasons why Coultergeist (to borrow a phrase from Keith Olberman) is so pro-gun. First of all, she needs it to repeatedly shoot herself in the foot. The second reason is for protection, because anyone with half a brain will want to kill her if they had to speak to her for more than three minutes, that is if she'll let them get a word in edgewise.

I don't know...maybe she wouldn't be so bad if she had a mute button, a few more complex carbohydrates, a few years dealing personally with the poor and disenfranchised and stopped taking make-up advice from Skeletor.

Absolutely lost

I know I said back in March for people NOT to read Urban Tulsa Weekly, but seeing as this week was the results of their annual Absolute Best of Tulsa reader poll, I had to indulge. Here's how screwed up the people of Tulsa are...or at least the people with time enough to submit entries:

Absolute Best Radio Personalities: Phil & Brent on KMOD. I guess every city has to have at least one wacky morning radio show, but for crying out loud, this shit has to stop. It still amazes me how many people still fall for the Roy D. Mercer bullshit. I guess they're singling out people who don't buy their comedy CDs at dirty truck stops.

Absolute Best Gadgets and Gizmos Store: Radio Shack. Did customer satisfaction or quality of product ever factor into this decision? Besides, there should be a rule about chain stores in this poll.

Absolute Best Smoke Shop: Oz. How about a rule that in order to be considered a smoke shop, you shouldn't be able to buy black lights and dildos there as well?

Absolute Best Place to Buy Beer: QuikTrip?!? Does anybody in this fucking town even know what real beer tastes like?

Absolute Best Beer: Bud Light...okay, my last question has an answer...the answer is HELL NO!

Absolute Best Festival: Mayfest. Did the ballots only go out to Motel 6 decorators? Mayfest is to fine art as Paris Hilton is to the feminist movement. Second Place was Oktoberfest, which, due to my German heritage, makes me kinda proud...however 99% of the beers they serve there are from Budweiser. To quote Monty Python, American beer is like making love in a canoe. It's fucking close to water.

It warms my heart to know as many people as I do that wish to try and enlighten as many people as they can. Judging from this list, we've got our work cut out for us. I'm gonna suggest some new categories for next year. I mean, seriously, they have a category for best bathrooms! (winner: QuickTrip)

Absolute Best place to take your kids where they might learn something other than how to kill video game zombies.
Absolute Best place to meet someone without a retraining order against them.
Absolute Best restaurant without a glaring health code violation.
Absolute Best place to have an intelligent conversation with a total stranger.
Absolute Best festival where you can spend the day without having to wait in line behind an entire family of mouth-breathing NASCAR fans that doesn't bathe.
Absolute Best place to order a cup of coffee in less than six syllables
Absolute Best place that doesn't need a shit rag like Urban Tulsa to validate their existence.

Boobies lament

There's a "Gentlemen's Club", here in Tulsa that lightly grazed the wall of bad taste recently when it introduced its 2am breakfast buffet and called it "Legs and Eggs". Driving past this place the other day, I saw their sign for their Wednesday hot dog bar, which they have decided to name "Hot Dog Hump Day". If they so much as try to have some sort of taco-based promotion, I might have to schedule an intervention with the management staff. Personally, I'm waiting for the all-you-can-eat tater tots..."Tits and Tots Tuesday"!!!

I know it's against my genes as a hot-blooded, straight American male, but I don't dig on strip clubs. I guess it can be attributed to some really bad experiences in the past, totalling five.

The first one I ever went to really dashed my adolescent hopes. It was in the French Quarter and the sign outside said "Topless and Bottomless", which was aptly named because the dancers had no asses whatsoever. During my first table dance and the girl was so skinny and pale, I didn't want to give her money, I wanted to order her a ham sandwich.

The second time was just outside my hometown during a visit home from college. The girl on stage looked really familiar for some reason, and it didn't hit me until much later when she came to our table asking if any of us wanted a lap dance. She saw me and asked me if she knew me, to which I responded, "Yeah, I asked you to prom, and you turned me down...here's a dollar."

The third time was for my friend's birthday. Let me just say that taking your buddy to a strip club for any type of celebration (birthday, bachelor party, divorce, etc.) that calls for him to be called on stage and pick which stripper he wants a lap dance from...really shouldn't be a spectator sport if you didn't know your buddy's taste in women beforehand. Let's just say it wasn't pretty...like Momma from the Goonies kinda not pretty. It was a quiet ride home after that.

The fourth time, I got my first lap dance from a girl who actually talked about the troubles she was having with her boyfriend. Now, I'm willing to let it slide when people bring their home problems to work with them, but NOT in this case.

The last time was a couple years ago at a friend's bachelor party. One of the guys in our group had promised his wife he wouldn't go to the strip club, so I babysat him at my place and went to pick up the rest of the guys at closing time. When we got there for the rest of the group, I went inside to let them know we were in the parking lot. I found one of my friends sitting on pervert's row. I sat next to him to try to tell him, but was distracted by the feeling of hands on my knees. The stripper was positioning my knees to do a headstand in my lap.

With her ass right in my face, I signalled my friend to hand me a single. I slipped it in her g-string and went back to talking to my friend. But then, the stripper twisted my nipples...hard. My friend gave me another single for her...which was now please-stop-hurting-me money. Then, she lowered her head into my crotch and gave me a raspberry. That's not something you do down there! That's something you do to a baby's stomach!

I guess my real problem is that I just don't find it erotic. It doesn't tap into my libido to just see a girl shaking her assets on stage or in a back room. I need something more than that, some sort of connection, mental or emotionally for it to feel right. I guess if the girl was reciting literature up on stage I'd be more interested...

"It was the best of times...(tassle twirl)...it was the worst of times...(jiggle, jiggle)..."

"Call...(thrust)...me...(thrust)...Ismael...(shimmy)..."

How the hell does this weird shit keep happening to me?

I talked to a friend on Friday night and she mentioned she was going to audition for a game show the next morning. I told her that if she got on the show for her to take me with her. Well, this morning she called me and told me she got a callback from the show, and she needed to take with her the four people she wants to be on the show with her...namely, me and our friend Mary (the other two people couldn't make it on such short notice).

We arrived kinda late due to traffic, but thankfully the game show people were running a bit behind. We had to help her fill out her questionaire, which, ironically asked: If you were to be in People magazine, what would they say about you? Too bad I wasn't the one being asked that.

They called her in for a little Q&A on camera, then brought the rest of us in for a dry run audition; an abbreviated version of the actual game to see how we'd play off and with each other. It was surreal to say the least. I think we did well, but we'll know in the next foru to five weeks if we make it on the show.

When I got up this morning, I decided not to shave or put on any really nice clothes because I didn't figure I'd be on camera at any point in the immediate future. That's what I get for assuming, I guess.

I have the strangest luck sometimes. If we do make it on the show, that'll be a magazine spread and a TV appearance in the same year. I can tell you that I'm definitely taking better care with my appearance just in case a walk-on role in a movie is just around the corner.

This mogwai saved my sanity

There's a technique taught to Navy S.E.A.L.S. to resist torture. It involves holding a stone or something small in your hand while being tortured and trying to focus solely on the texture of what's in your hand instead of the big Russian guy attaching jumper cables to your nipples. For me, the torture was the crowd at the Larkin gig, and the stone was this little Gizmo toy that my friends Gene and Heather gave me when they arrived at the bar.

This goes back to a story I told them of my childhood. I went through a phase when I was nine when I was obsessed with the movie Gremlins. Almost anything I drew for almost a year was Gizmo. I can't explain why, I just like drawing this little guy. This image was so ingrained in my memory that when I was taking a sculpture class in high school, I was carving into a block of sandstone, just trying to get some neat shadows and shapes...and a friend took one look at the finished scupture, turned it upside down and it was a fucking mogwai! I had sculpted Gizmo upside down without even realizing it.

This apparently sent Gene on a mission to find this little toy in his house and give it to me last night. Thanks, Gene. That frickin rocks.

Working the door last night wouldn't have been so bad had I not done it Friday night as well. I now understand why the owners have two people alternating working the door. Friday night was unusually busy, due to the fact that the bar across the street lost power. Their loss was our gain, and we were busy. It wasn't so bad for working the door, other than one guy trying to leave with his beer. I told him to get back inside, and he continued to talk to his friends while inching back towards the door. I told him a second time to get back inside, and he tried to finish his conversation, which was when I yelled at him, "NOOOOOOOWWW!". After he got back out after chuggin his beer inside, I calmly explained to him that if he got busted by the cops with that, the bar gets fined, I get fined and I lose my job.

Saturday night, the bar filled up rather quickly. I had to keep a vague running total in my head of how many people were in the bar, because I knew we'd be getting close to capacity. When Larkin plays, the audience is part of the show, so the main room gets packed, and the patio and back room are empty. I Had to tell people as they came in to try to get to the bar, get their drinks and head out to the patio or to the back. Very few people took that advice.

We were close to the breaking point when a Bachelor party with twenty guys came up to the door. I told them that we were close to capacity, and that 20 people would be pushing it. This caused all the guys to try to start sweet-talking me to let them in. I told the I would check to see if we could let them in, but they wouldn't let me step back inside to check. They kept trying to talk to me and try to get in for less than three bucks a head. My current favorites are the folks who offer to buy me a beer in lieu of paying a three dollar cover, to which I tell them that the bar already gives me a tab and besides, the only beer I drink cost FOUR bucks. However, when one of the guys in this party started playing around and trying to rub my nipple, I didn't need to tell them all to fuck off...my face said it all. After that, I was so pissed, I used Gizmo like a stressball for at least five minutes.

When I first started working the door, I would cut a deal every now and then regardless of what time it is. Now, I will only give people a break towards the end of the night when the band is wrapping things up. Otherwise, when someone isn't willing to pay three bucks to get in isn't gonna tip the fucking bartenders at all, so it's no big loss for me if they decide not to go in. It only makes more room inside for people who actually want to be there.

Which brings me to my main frustration with last night. Larkin is one of the few bands that understand that when you play at Arnie's, the audience is part of the show. The main room of the bar gets so packed when they play that it's hard to move anywhere. And the more feverish fans HAVE to be front and center, or in the case of last night, crowding the front door.

I always have a barstool by the front door so I can do my job. There wasn't even enough room by the door for me to sit there. At one point, I had to give six people their cover charge back because they couldn't get more than three feet inside the door. Gizmo stressball, Gizmo stressball.

Most of the people crowded in this small space were my friends, and they apparently have never seen me this pissed. I yelled at them twice, and I got two types of reactions: A) oh, you're so cute when you're angry, and B) I know he's not talking to me; I'm not in the way. The point is, no one moved...at all. This cost the band money, this cost the bar money, and it royally pissed me off. Gizmo stressball, Gizmo stressball, Gizmo stressball.

Next time, I'm laying down the law BEFORE it gets out of control.

This little side gig of working the door is helping me deal with one of my biggest personality flaws: being a pushover. I've learned not to let people talk me into things that I'm not 100% sure of, or fuck with me for the sake of fucking with me. Now if I can get people who know me as a friend to fucking listen to me as a doorman...as weird as that sounds.

All I need to know I learned from the movies

During my latest meditation on trying to find some deeper meaning in my life, I made the mistake of staring in the direction of my DVD shelf. Instead of looking inward, I focused on the movies, and what they all mean to me. So, I have now compiled a list of quotes from my favorite movies...things that I find have meaning (with a little help from the Internet Movie Database):

"One man's mundane and desperate existance is anothe man's Technicolor." -Strange Days

"The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long." -Blade Runner

"Lord loves a workin' man, don't trust whitey, see a doctor and get rid of it." -The Jerk

"If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything." -Back to the Future

"No reason to stop being a lady." -As Good as It Gets

"It's not who I am that defines me, it's what I do." -Batman Begins

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." - Lord of the RIngs

"Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it." -American History X

"You know how I was supposed to feel. That person isn't me... never was. You wanted to know what it was about us that made us human. Well, you're not going to find it...[points at his head] ...in here. You were looking in the wrong place." -Dark City

"I don't know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They're more important than sex." -The Big Chill

"You'll find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view." -Return of the Jedi

"My mom always says that, when she can see I'm like working something out in my head, she's like, 'you're in it right now' and I'm looking at you're telling this story, and you're definitely in it." - Garden State

"Hey, I'm a firm believer in the philosophy of a ruling class. Especially since I rule." -Clerks

"I think that I am familiar with the fact that you are going to ignore this particular problem until it swims up and bites you on the ass." - Jaws

"I'm impatient with stupidity. My people have learned to live without it." - The Day the Earth Stood Still

"That's why you were standing in the chancellor's backyard spinning that "cap gun" of yours. You're fine. Yeah, you're just as fit as a fuckin' fiddle." -Wonder Boys

"Resistance is not futile, we're gonna win this thing, humankind is too good, we're not a bunch of under-achievers! We're gonna stand up, and we're gonna be human beings. We're going to get fired up about the real things, the things that matter! Creativity, and the dynamic human spirit that refuses to submit." -Waking Life

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry, you will someday." - American Beauty

The "because I'm bored" caption contest

I've been wanting to do this for a long time, and seeing as I can't think of anything else to write about, I'm introducing the first of many caption contests. I'll throw in my ideas, and the rest are up to you guys. Post a comment with your entry. I'll select a winner and announce it with the next contest.

My Captions:

1. Shadow puppets at gunpoint.

2. "THE ITSY BITSY SPIDER WENT UP THE WATER SPOUT!!!"

3. Much like KISS, the Blue Man Group really lost it's edge when they ditched the makeup.

Take that, Suzi from Tallahassee

I heard a report on NPR today that got me thinking. They were talking about re-juveniles, people in their 30's and 40's who take part in activities that are popular with much younger people. Grown men who play video games, adults with no kids visiting Disneyland six times a week, etc. Anyway, the first caller they took was a woman who had something to say to all of these folks: "Grow the hell up!"

She went on for a couple minutes about how she just can't stand seeing "adults" running around with their iPods, their messenger bags and their hula hoops...Okay that last one I made up. My point is, as noble as she tried to be, she really came off as a crotchety old nag.

Until today, I was a guy with a little over a month before his thirtieth birthday who was reconsidering his plan to save up for a Nintendo Wii system when it comes out. I was worried that I was approaching that time in my life where I must give up childish things, start drinking Metamucil and worrying about kids being on my lawn.

After hearing this lady on the radio today, I've decided I HAVE TO save up for that Nintendo Wii, and maybe throw in a Playstation 3 while I'm at it...just to piss that woman (well, people LIKE her) off. In my mind, one of the greatest pleasures in life is pissing off anyone who takes themselves a liiiiitttle too seriously.

But then I thought, do I really indulge in this activity enough? Aside from having a couple anti-Bush stickers on my car, I really don't. Hell, I live in a red state and in a city that IS the buckle of the Bible Belt. This place is ripe with political and religious self-righteousness, and I don't think I've done enough to truly fuck with these people.

Of course, I'm talking about subtle methods. For instance:

Whenever a televangelist asks for a donation, I should call in and suggest that he/she sell that Rolex their wearing or that Lexus they're driving. Show me a preacher who's passing the plate for a new transmission for the beat-up old church van, and I might consider throwing in a few bucks.

When a political leader is giving a public speech about some insignificant talking point flavor of the week, I should really be in the crowd holding up signs showing what they should REALLY be trying to fix. They wanna say gay marriage is an important issue, they get a poster of a dead soldier. You say "under God" must be in the pledge of allegiance, I say look at this picture of a poor, starving child. Flag burning? Here's the gulf coast...Was this taken back in September, or just last week? Who can tell?!?

I wanna show up to an Ann Coulter lecture with a giant gong.

I wanna put a laugh track on "The 700 Club".

I wanna unplug the teleprompter during the State of Union speech.

I wanna stamp RETURN TO SENDER on the foreheads of every Jehovah's Witness that comes to my door.

I wanna open the dump valves on oil tankers. I wanna breathe smoke...sorry, got on a little Fight Club rift for a second.

Yarrrr

I just got home from seeing Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest. I believe it was well worth the $132 million it raked in this weekend. I'm gonna try to write my review without spoilers. (Cracking knuckles, deep breath) Here we go:

Blame it on all the books on filmmaking I've read and my addiction to commentary tracks, but I find myself focusing on the craft almost every time I sit down to watch a movie. Not that I'm looking for flaws per se, I just like dissecting little parts of the film and figuring out how they did it. For this same reason, I never want to learn how to play a musical instrument. I still want to hear a song for what it is.

To tell the truth, I didn't want to like the first one. I've been burned my Disney so many times, and seeing as this was from the same director as Mouse Hunt and the producer of Armageddon, plus after two Lord of the Rings films I could care less to see Orlando Bloom wield a sword again, it barely stood a chance in my mind. I didn't believe the reviews, either. One I read was "It's the best pirate films in years!"...well, if that's true, it's up against Hook and Cutthroat Island. That's like being named the best Jethro Tull cover band...not much competition.

I didn't see it until DVD, after much insistance and pressuring of a friend of mine. I went out and bought it the next day and I don't think it left the DVD player for two weeks. Great action, great story, great performances, great special effects, great all around.

I'm glad to say that with Pirates, they didn't just take what made the first one special and repeat it tenfold. They were careful to tie into the first one while telling a new story, creating new action without going too far over the top, and having new humor while staying true to the characters.

What really impressed me was the pacing. Whatever kind of scene it was, the filmmakers took great care not to let the story get bogged down. No scene was all dramatic or all action or all humor...they'd always throw in little pauses to break the tension, yet not completely distract you from what's going on.

Okay, minor spoiler: This one ends in a cliffhanger for the third one, which kinda pissed me off. I gotta wait until Memorial Day next year to see how this turns out. I, for one, can't wait that long. I nearly cracked having to wait a year for the next Lord of the Rings, I don't know if I've got it in me this time.

Damn you, Disney!

Honestly...

"To live outside the law, one must be honest" - Bob Dylan

"To thine own self be true" - Willam Shakespeare

"The most courageous thing you can do is be honest" - Commercial for Secret deodorant

The first quote is transcribed from a sticker on a mirror at Arnie's bar, and I reflect on that line every time I see that sticker. The second quote is one I remember highlighting during my phase in high school when I had the foolish notion of reading the complete works of Shakespeare. I got through Hamlet and Romeo & Juliet and gave up. The third quote was during a commercial break while I was thinking of a third quote...Not nearly as personal as the other two, unless you consider that I may be strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.

Honesty has always been a virtue for me, but lately tact has been wearing me down. When I'm not having to fight the temptation to call someone on their bullshit, I'm having to find the proper words to explain how I'm feeling to someone else and it never seems to come out the right way. At any given moment, I come out feeling like either a spineless coward or a complete asshole.

This blog used to be the place I came to vent my frustrations over these problems. I used to be able to unload without censoring myself. As of late, no matter how much I sugarcoat my frustrations or try to put my feelings into honest words, I fear I'm opening myself up to a world of confrontations. Thankfully not from everyone, just certain people.

How did it get this way? Hell, I was brutally honest about my relationship problems with Candy, and what I said on the blog never an issue in the break-up. If anything, it allowed me to better articulate my feelings for when she and I finally had "the talk". I still have my job even with everything I wrote about my boss and my co-workers.

So, what's the solution here? How can I bring this blog back to form as a therapeutic medium for myself? I want to be completely honest here. It's one of the only places I feel I can. I don't mind changing names to protect the innocent (and in some cases, the guilty), but I don't want to walk on eggshells or pretend that these things never happened.

First and foremost, I need to not give a shit (or give less of a shit than I am now) about what certain people feel. This is my life and I want to talk about what's happening in it. I will try to be tactful, but on the other hand I need to call it as I see it. I will no longer edit my past posts, but if I am wrong I will post a retraction if I feel it's needed.

Secondly, I need to explain to everyone out there that if you're in my life, odds are you are gonna be in this blog at some point...naughty or nice. And if it happens to be an unflattering portrait, don't take it so personally. It's just one little slice of life, folks, not the entire pie. If you've got something to say about it, post a comment. I haven't deleted a non-spam comment yet.

Lastly, I'm gonna finish this post with an general update/progress report on all the areas of my life...Here we go:

Physical: I'm still a pack-a-day smoker, fifty pounds overweight, a social drinker and I'm still not doing anything about it.

Mental: Despite my current addiction to digital cable and viral internet video, I still consider myself fairly well-read individual. I'll be the first to admit that, at times, I'm not the sharpest block of cheese out there...but taking a good look around (I do live in Oklahoma after all), I'm well above average.

Psychological: I've been running close to a serious depression for a while now, and at this very moment, I'm doing okay. I've been doing as much soul-searching as I can, and I feel I'm close to the answers to my personal issues.

Professional: I'm in a good place. In my line of work, any job that's stable (even though the people I work with aren't), is worth it's weight in gold. The company is changing and growing into the type of company I've always wanted to work for. Sure, there have been some growing pains, but when we reach our present goals, all the effort will be worth it.

Financial: One year from now, my credit card debt will be history. Less than two years from now, my car will be paid off. It's a sprint to the finish line...living paycheck to paycheck until then.

Love: I know I'm not ready for anything serious, and for the time being, I'm not ready for anything casual, either. I'm on my own for the first time in almost two years, and I'm still adjusting to it. I need to focus on making myself whole before I can open myself to being with someone else.

Spritual: Karma in check, trying to reduce my dogma. I don't pretend to have Jesus on speed-dial, but God has my number if He ever wants to call.

Social: I have lots of friends, and even though I feel like I need to withdraw from the world a lot recently, I can't imagine my life without them.

Overall: I have some problems, but I'm fixing them. I have my frustrations, but I'm learning to deal with them. All I need is time, and a space where I can write about my life and try to figure it all out. I'm hoping this blog can be used for that once again.

Fatass cats are non-stop entertainment

Having a cat is proving to be a unique experience. I haven't needed an alarm clock because there's always a whining meow crying out for his food in the morning. At night, he's always waitning for me to lay down on the couch so he can jump up in my lap.

Last night, he woke me up by sitting on my head. I felt kinda bad for freaking out like I did because he ran off like a bat out of hell when I woke up. Things were better this morning, though. I guess he either forgot about it or realized that if the tables were turned, he's freak out too if I sat on his head when he was trying to get some sleep.

After a rough day like today, Chuckles gave me just the laugh I was needing. In this new apartment, he has three spots he likes to hang out at. The first is in the linen closet. He jumps up to the first shelf above the drawers and hides out behind the towels. It's like his own little fort back there. The second spot is under the bed, which is usually where he goes when he's spooked. The third place is the computer chair.

This was Candy's chair, and back at the duplex Chuck spent at least 14 hours a day sitting there and clawing at the arms. Back then, the chair was always on carpet, so when he jumped in the chair, the most it would do was swivel. I have hardwood floors at my new place.

As soon as I got home, I called out for Chuck and he came running from the bedroom and took a running leap into the chair. The force of 17 pounds of cat at full stride caused the chair to slide halfway across the room and hit the wall. Upon impact, Chuck turned around and started attacking the wall. This caused the chair to lside out from under him and Chuck fall down, go boom.

I was laughing my ass off, even more so after Chuck tried to play it off like that didn't just happen. I was so impressed, I had to give him some extra kibble.

About an hour later, he was chasing a spider scross the living room and bumped into my CD rack, dumping them all on the floor. For such a fatass, he got out of the way of the falling CDs just in a nick of time.

On one hand, I wonder if he's getting a little stir crazy (I can relate) since he hasn't been outside since he got here. On the other hand, this latest trend is funny as hell. I should let him outside for a little bit, but I'm afraid he'll lose his comedic edge. Letting him outside would be like putting Lenny Bruce in rehab.

Cutting it a little close

Nineteen bucks. That is all that is left to my name until Wednesday afternoon. Seventeen of which came from CoinStarring all of my change today. Turns out I really needed to.

After I got up this morning, I checked my email and took a look at my bank balance. I was two dollars overdrawn. Looks like that little trip to Sonic yesterday was a bad idea, especially since I forgot about the sixteen dollar bar tab I charged at Arnie's. I had to get some money into my account right away or else suffer the overdraft charge. I deposited four bucks at an ATm, but seeing as it's the Fourth of July and the banks are closed, we'll see tomorrow if I'm screwed or not.

This is kinda ironic that I'm having this finacial trouble on Independence Day. I am being reminded of my own independence on this day because it's up to me to save my own ass. Sure, my folks have helped me out in the past, but I'm the kinda guy to wait until ever possibility is exhausted before I make THAT phone call. Besides, what kind of whiny bitchass calls his folks, who live in another state, over a matter of two bucks? Especially since I get paid the next day.

Until then, I've still got food in the fridge, plenty of smokes, digital cable and internet. Plus, I got a party to go to later to watch the fireworks.

Speaking of which, I didn't buy any fireworks this year. Not because I was broke, but because I wanted to have at least one Independence Day to go past without the words "Fritschie, you're on fire" being spoken.

Wax paper, boiled football leather, dog breath

One of the great things about constantly being of two minds about anything is that at any given moment I'm right about something. I'm taking a four-day weekend, however I'm flat broke until Wednesday. I've been hanging around the house almost the entire time because I knew that if I went somewhere, I'd wind up spending money and wasting precious gasoline. Not a big deal, since I have plenty of food at the house to survive the weekend. On the other hand, I've had a touch of cabin fever, so I've been dying to get out of here.

So, this afternoon, I stepped out for a bit...and "a bit" turned out being down the street to Sonic where I proceeded to order a huge chili cheeseburger with chili, bacon and jalapenos, tater tots and a cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper. I have absolutely no impulse control whatsoever.

Arriving back at home deeply ashamed for having spent 1/8 of my bank account when I swore I wouldn't spend any money, I locked the door behind me and started dubbing off all those episodes of TiVo'd Ren & Stimpy I promised for a friend. I'm starting to relate a little too much to Space Madness at this point.

And now, I'm off to the fridge to see if I have any beloved ice cream bars left. No one understands me like they do.

Somewhere between the lottery and wolverines

Yay! I got my photos set back up, and I will try to add new pics to each post.

This morning, Chuckles clawed my ankle to wake me up to feed him. After angrily dumping some Special Kitty tuna in his bowl, I showered, dressed and went for a walk downtown to take some pictures. Today's pic is one of them, the center of the universe.

My intermittant existential crisis came back a bit today. Staying at home most of yesterday left me kinda freaked out to stay home today. On the other hand, if I went out, I knew I was gonna spend money, which I knew I shouldn't do. With certain, specific things going on in my life - internal and external - I'm stuck in a weird mix of agoraphobia and cabin fever. I'm kinda scared to leave the apartment, yet staying home is driving me nuts. A little "me" time is feeling like another priority I feel I HAVE to get done, and it's a strange feeling that personal reflection and meditation gives me the same feeling as my cable bill needing to be paid.

So now, when someone asks me how I'm doing, I tell them I'm doing "okay". That word represents a pretty broad gray area, but it's a lot easier than saying, "Hey, I'm not winning the lottery, but then again I'm not being pulled apart by wolverines either."

Whoever comes up with the best headline for this post gets a prize...I can't think of anything

Okay, to briefly continue with my last post...I have new batteries for the remote, and I've decided to put in on frame-by-frame for the time being. Best to deal with this shit slowly.

To change the subject: I saw Superman Returns Wednesday night. Great flick. Two hours and forty minutes of great flick, but a great flick nonetheless. It's hard for me to think of much to say about the movie without major spoilers, so I'll hit you guys with some minor observations:

1) One thing I really loved about it is that the filmmakers didn't try to reinvent the wheel. They didn't try to reboot the story or reimagine it like Smallville. It was meant to be a quasi-sequel to Superman 1 & 2 (pretending that 3 & 4 never existed) and it works that way, assuming that you disregard the huge technological differces between the late seventies and today. It was a wise choice to put Bryan Singer at the helm. He has a real knack for pointing out obvious flaws (at least to the hardcore geeks) and urging us not to take it too seriously. Like in X-Men, where they knew that hardcore fans of the comics would be upset about the costumes, he put in the line, "What did you expect? Yellow Spandex?" There's a simlar line about Superman's new costume in this flick.

2) I also loved how they avoided a little overseas controversy by yadda-yaddaing the "American Way" from the standard motto. Perry White (in the same scene as the costume comment) says, "Does he still stand for truth, justice, all that stuff." Wise choice, in my opinion. In today's political climate, the American way isn't what it used to be.

3) One thing I thought about the next day was that I only noticed an on-screen body count of 5, and one of them was from natural causes...that is, unless you count the opening scene featuring the destruction of Krypton, which could put it in the millions. That has to be the largest margin up for debate in cinematic history.

4) I have high hopes and great fears for the inevitable sequel. The filmmakers set up for a lot of possible storylines that, if not handled carefully, could ruin EVERYTHING in a lot of people's opinions, including mine.

Yesterday, I had nothing to do, so my boss put me to work ripping out carpet in this one room in preparation for the eventual moving of the art department. Even with a heavy-duty particle mask, the twenty-year-old dust the carpet kicked up gave me a migraine from hell. I was supposed to go see a friend last night, but I couldn't move from the couch. I fell asleep around nine, and woke up to Chuck begging for food early this morning. Since I've been in this apartment, I have not needed my alarm clock once because of that damned cat. But he's cool the rest of the day, so I'll let it slide.

I broke down today and went back to my old laundromat. Turns out it wasn't so bad. I'm saving money compared to the other places I've tried, and by showing up as soon as they opened this morning, I avoided the rush of crazy people that I remember from my earlier experiences there. One weird little social interaction I had was with this one guy. He was always standing in my line of sight of the dryers I was using, so whenever I looked over to see if I needed to start them up again, he mistook it for eye contact.

DISCLAIMER: I am all for people being gay. Please don't take what follows as any type of homophobic message.

It was obvious to me that this man was gay. It wasn't a gut feeling, or any form of gaydar, it was just obvious. Tank top, soccer shorts, all that jazz. Every time I looked over at the dryers, he'd look at me and crack a smile. While I was playing Pac-Man, I'd get this eerie feeling I was being watched. I'd glance over and that dude would look away.

When I noticed from across the room that my clothes were done, I went to go retrieve them. He saw that I was heading his way and as I made my way past him, he nervously said hello. I returned the hello and went to get my clothes. Then there was this moment when he figured it all out and got a really embarrassed look on his face and he went back to folding his laundry.

I felt kinda bad for the guy, really. I imagine he might have once heard that laundromats were a great place to meet guys, and I went and dashed his hopes. As I was folding my clothes a few tables down, I think he saw the clothes I was folding and it became clear that I was straight. Sorry, dude.