You'd think given my career choices, I'd be used to backstabbers by now.

First and foremost, let me tell you guys to NOT call me about this. I won't be able to get a new phone until tomorrow. Just know that I'm fine, and my jaw and my back is a little sore, but it's nothing a little Advil and Neosporin can't handle. My mood, on the other hand is to be expected after being stabbed.

Yes, I fucking said STABBED.

I was on my way down Memorial after open mic night at the Loony Bin. I was coming up on the Steak and Shake when I saw a group of teenagers running across the street. I blew my horn at them, as a few of them were getting ready to dart in front of my car. As I passed, one of them threw their drink at me.

THUD! SCREECH! I slammed my brakes and got out of my car. I yelled at them, demanding to know who threw their shit at my car. All but three of them ran off. The ones that stayed behind came up to me, ready for a fight.

The first one said something along the lines of "C'mon motherfucker!" (or something just as eloquent). A second moved to my right side. The first guy kicked me in the leg with about as much force as a stiff breeze. Seriously, this kick couldn't have broken balsa wood.

I turned my head to look at the second guy trying to flank me. As I turned my head, he clocked me on the left side of my jaw. I think he was aiming for my nose, but missed. Didn't really ring my bell so much as it just knocked me off balance. But it was enough to let me know they meant business.

That's when the third guy pulled something out of his pocket. I believe my response was "Is that a fucking screwdriver? Seriously?" Let it be known that I am a pacifist, but I've also got a pretty big fucking mouth because this guy started to charge at me with it. So, I naturally ran back to my car. Sure, what this thug lacked in subtlety, he sure as hell made up for it in his purchase at Home Depot.

On the way back to my car, in hindsight, I dropped my phone. Oh, and I also felt a blow to the middle of my back. I thought one of the little fuckers had punched me, but after driving off, the second car to flag me down pointed out other wise.

The first car told me that they saw the whole thing, and that they'd testify if needed. I felt fine, just pumping adrenalin and I told them that it wouldn't be necessary. The second car said the same thing, but added the phrase, "No, dude. That guy fucking stabbed you!"

Signaling them over to the Walgreen's parking lot, I asked them to look at my back. Tiny hole, no bleeding. The cops arrived, took my statement. The paramedics arrived, checked me out, and told me it wasn't bad. Barely broke the skin. Not even worthy of a trip to the hospital or even a bandage. But in legal terms, that was still assault with a deadly weapon.

The witnesses told me (and the cops) that one of the bad guys picked up my phone. So, add theft to the mix. I told the cops to throw in a jaywalking charge and destruction of property while they're at it.

So, I went about my evening with a really fucked up story for the guys at the bar. The irony is, the cops said they'll call me if anything turns up. Hopefully, it'll be after I get my new phone turned on.

Like I said, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I don't know if that little fucker didn't have that great of upper body strength or maybe a poor choice in weaponry, but the damage was merely a flesh wound. Personally, I attribute the lack of real damage to the fact that I've never had a back massage in my entire life, and 32 years of tension built up a knot strong enough to deflect a flathead screwdriver tip.

But enough about me, how was your night?

Angels and Demons

To quote Tom Servo from Mystery Science Theater 3000, "I want to hurt this movie, but I don't think I can hurt it the same way it hurt me."

I've had a pretty good run at the movies the past few years. Of all the movies I paid to see since I moved back to Tulsa, the worst of them ranked as still pretty good. I attribute most of this to being very selective about what I throw my money at, and quite a few times it's been luck of the draw. Well, my lucky streak has ended with Angels and Demons.

I completely avoided anything having to do with the Da Vinci Code. Never read the book, nor the graphic novel, nor did I see the movie. Which was uncharacteristic of me because usually I enjoy anything that pisses off religious people. So, why did I go see Angels and Demons? Because a friend asked me to tag along, and I haven't seen a new movie in over a month. So, I took a chance, and now I'd like to respond.

First of all... Dan Brown, go fuck yourself. I've had conversations with homeless conspiracy theorists that had more credibility than your story arcs. I've fallen asleep with the TV tuned to the A&E and gotten a better grasp of history than you have. And the thought that so many people actually bought in to your bullshit, and that the Catholic Church considered you some sort of a threat, just makes me wanna French kiss the barrel of a sawed off shotgun and welcome the sweet release of death. You are to legitimate storytelling what Girls Gone Wild is to lesbianism; a cheap, flashy, completely non-realistic representation that leaves people too ashamed to demand their money back.

Second... Ron Howard, Tom Hanks, you're better than this. I can't blame you both for wanting a safe paycheck, but come on. This material is suitable only for people who found the mind games in the Saw movies a little too obtuse. It makes the Hardy Boys look like Hitchcock. I know Mr. Brown has a new book in this series coming out soon, but please, for the love of all things good and decent in this world, don't... Just don't.

I do, however, need to give the film credit for one thing: I didn't immediately figure out who the bad guy was. But, the moment all characters were established, I knew that if any of them were the bad guy, I figured out exactly how they would do it. It's like going to a restaurant knowing full well where they would spit in your food, and then, eating around it.

And I'm usually not one of those snooty nit-pickers that get all up in arms about little details in a film. I have a friend that hated Titanic because the Picasso and Monet paintings that went down with the ship were ones that still exist today, and that's what ruined the film for him. I'm not that kind of guy. I'll forgive the occasional flawed detail if the rest of the movie entertains me, but from the initial claim that there were a billion Catholics in the world, to Galileo's use of English in his clues, to the climactic assertion that cold temperatures had weakened the life of the doomsday device's batteries, this was the first movie that made me want to shout "BULLSHIT!" at the screen.

I wanted to give this movie a chance, but halfway through, I felt like sneaking in to see Transformers, just for the fact that those filmmakers knew their movie was brainless. Angels and Demons tried to pass itself off as intellectual, but in the same way someone actually slips their word-a-day calendar entries into daily conversation. It feels forced and only makes people like me want to laugh at their efforts.

To me, even the worst movies I sat through have had some redeeming quality that made the ticket price somewhat worth it. When I saw The Talented Mr. Ripley, I was able to ignore the insipid plot and dialogue and focus on the beautiful scenery. And even though Angels and Demons took place in Rome and the Vatican, it had all of the charm of a tour of Italy with a tour guide hopped up on Mescaline.

In summary, avoid this movie with every fiber of your being. Laugh derisively at anyone you see purchasing the DVD when it comes out. If a friend so much as mentions adding this to their Netflix queue, well, go ahead and let them watch it. Think of it as letting them date someone you don't approve of. Pointing out their bad judgment would only damage the friendship, and believe me, they'll need a shoulder to cry on when they realize they've made a horrible mistake.