Tuesday, May 31, 2011

To the Tune of "St Stephen" by the Grateful Dead

This Hurt to Write

St Sarah
With her bus
Skipping events
Just because
Will she run
She doesn't know
Anything to make her bank account grow


Sarah prospered
Then she quit
Mobile talking point spewing
Hypocrite
Either way she cannot lose
Sarah is employed by Fox News

Election season
She has no reason
Why is she touring across the USA
Skipping rallies
Her decision dallies
Anything to keep her in the press today
And she keeps talking
And she keeps balking
When the subject of her running comes around again

St Sarah
Go away
It's the greatest thing
You could do today
To save this nation
Shut your mouth....**






*It hurt writing a Dead parody about Palin.
** In honor of St Sarah, the writer of this parody quit before it was finished

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Great Idea for a Horror Movie

Climbers reach the peak only to be attacked by the zomibes of people who didn't make it and they must battle their way back down before they get killed by the zombies or their supplies run out.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Simon Rumley’s “Red White & Blue”- A Sort of Review

I watched this movie on Friday night and have tried for the past 3 days to figure out how I can sell this movie to you without ruining it. It has a very slow and seemingly pointless first hour that leads to an intense last 30 minutes that has left me still in a state of slight shock and made me watch the entire movie again as soon as it ended. Here is the little I can tell you:

Erica (played by Amanda Fuller) cleans a half-way house and sleeps around. One night she meets Franki (played by Marc Senter) who is a drummer in a local band. She later meets Nate (played by Noah Taylor) who lives in the half-way house and is an Iraqi war vet. Their lives cross, and then cross again; people end up dead in horribly, yet incredibly simplistic ways; and nobody is really what they seem.

I know all the above sounds incredibly cliché', and it would be if not for the haunting score and inventive direction of Simon Rumley. Trust me when I say this movie will stay with you long after you have watched it and most of what you thought you saw will change upon reflection.

Like Jack Ketchum's Red, this is a Southern bred revenge story where the character drama is so engrossing....I really need to stop before I give too much away.

"Red, White, and Blue" is streaming on Netflix and you will not be sorry you saw it.

Friday, May 20, 2011

To the Tune of "Parents Just Don't Understand" by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince

I only wrote this because I learned the Situation is suing his father, who is named the Confrontation. How can I let that go without mocking?

OK, here's the situation
A stupid moron with way too much attention
He's on the TV so he must be a star
Are you a fan?
Yeah, of course you are
Famous for stupid
On the Jersey Shore
And Dancing with the Stars
Do you need more?
Well fine, you asked
You are going to regret you had
Cause now the Situation is gonna sue his dad.
A confrontation
With the Confrontation
And endless battle worth less than masturbation
So to all you kids who want a fancy car
Be a moron and they will make you a star

Thursday, May 19, 2011

My First of Many Thoughts on 40

OK, this one will be a bit convoluted, so do your best to follow my train-wreck of thought. In my defense, I am turning 40.

So, I am turning 40, but I feel like I am turning 30. This would mean my 20's lasted 20 years. Assuming this makes the start of a pattern, then that would mean my new 30's will last 30 years and I won't have to worry about 40 until I am 70. Of course, this does mean I will be turning 50 at 110, so odds are I will have a very inactive 50's and I don't even want to get into how my 60's would be starting at 160, but for now I am quite happy to be turning 30 at 40.

Of course, all this is null and void since I am actually doing 39 again this year in honor of Jack Benny and don't even have to worry about any of this for quite some time to come...if ever. I can keep turning 39 for ever.

Confused yet?

Friday, May 13, 2011

Friday the 13th?

So, I hope everyone has a....(Chi-chi-chi-ha-ha-ha)...what was that?

Probably the wind. Anyway, I was going to say I hope everyone has a....(Chi-chi-chi-ha-ha-ha)...OK, I know I heard it that time...

What the Hell is that?

I think I am going to go check out the noise alone...

I'll be right back....

(Chi-chi-chi-ha-ha-ha).......

(Chi-chi-chi-ha-ha-ha).......

(Chi-chi-chi-ha-ha-ha)...

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Monday, May 02, 2011

Dear 18 Year Old Me...

I owe you a very deep felt apology for I failed you. I tried my best and fought against all obstacles, but in the end it just was not meant to be. I had to abandon my quest for the betterment of the 40 Year Old Me and, last Saturday, I cut off my ponytail.

I remember quite clearly that day sitting in Fontana Hall’s cafeteria, red-eyed and foggy minded, while eating a bowl of mixed of every cereal they offered and talking about the value of long hair with a few friends. They need names and I never use real names out of respect for people’s privacy, so let’s call them: Mike and John. The third person will be called “Droopy Fonzerelli” because that is what we called him behind his back. The guy looked like Fonzi and Droopy had a kid! Oh, and I am not proud of the “behind his back” thing, but I was only 18 so cut me some slack. Anywho…

Come Along” by Salty Dog played over the cafeteria’s P.A. system and Mike and I, who both were growing our hair out, were asked about it by John. I can only assume the song sparked the curiosity, but he asked us if we ever planned on cutting our hair. “Never” being the standard 18 year old Long Hair response and John pressed the issue by offering hypothetical monetary values to the question and Mike and I continued to say “no.”

“I’ll bet you will cut your hair,” John said smugly, leaving “I will turn 40 with a ponytail” as my only logical recourse.

Needless to say, both Mike and I have had short hair in the days since, but around the time I turned 38 the conversation suddenly reappeared clearly in my mind. Many nights I fell asleep with that afternoon in Fontana Hall replaying verbatim over and over until I decided I had to keep that promise to myself. I stopped getting my hair cut that moment and spent the next year and a half looking bad.

At first, I had a rather “Bozo the clown”ish appearance. The male pattern baldness my head choose to take made my top frizz upwards as my sides ballooned outward. I rode the horror of my reflection out for months on end until I reached a “Page Boy” bob that was even more horrendous than the Bozo. As my sides grew to a point I could push them behind my ears, the “Page Boy” became a “Poser Tail” or one of those pathetic ponytails you saw people have in the 80’s when they tried to hide their mullet. That slowly morphed into what can be called a “Nicolas Cage Cut” to those feeling kind or just “YUCH” to those being honest.

For the last two weeks, I have been pulling my hair back and thinking about cutting my hair, but my promise/bet stayed in my head. I would grab the scissors and hear Crosby, Stills, and Nash singing Almost Cut My Hair/ Happened Just the Other Day and would climax with my tossing the scissors down as the lyrics I Feel Like I Owe It to Someone blasted in my head. Despite the Earworm enticing me to keep my hair, a voice in the back of my head compelled me to pick up the scissors again everyday and repeat the process until Saturday when the scissors finally closed.

I felt my heart pounding just before I pulled a Delilah on my Samson persona fearing the same outcome, but the sound of the steel splitting the fibers of hair compelled me to keep going. The sound even managed to drown out the Earworm begging me to keep the hair. I could hear crowds cheering as I made each following cut. I knew I made the right choice.

I tried my best to fulfill your promise to “John” made all those years ago. I told my boss that growing my hair was the form my “midlife crisis” was going to take so he would allow me to grow it out. I put up with over two years of looking horrible all in the name of “turning 40 with a ponytail,” but that was 18 Year Old Me Idealism. 40 Year Old Me Realism realized I don’t have anywhere near enough hair to grow it out and not look like one of those old men with a ponytail I used to make fun of. Ironically, my hair looks fuller and my bald spot smaller now.

Don’t take it personally 18 Year Old Me. As I get older and my time with you gets further and further away, you become cooler and cooler in my mind than you probably ever were and I even envy you sometimes.

Love Always,
40 Year Old Me

Osama Been Gotten

I just wanted to use that headline. A few more jokes. You won't like the second one at all:

1. I feel bad for my niece, Nola. It was going to be hard enough keeping which President Bush went to war against Iraq and Saddam, but now she must also remember it was Obama who got Osama, and not the other way around. Thank G-d Clinton didn't win or else she would have had to learn "Bush went to war with Iraq followed by Clinton followed by Bush going to war with Iraq followed by Clinton who killed Osama."

2. I am so proud Obama FINALLY did something different than Bush: he actually got Osama.

3. How long until the Birthers start demanding to see the Long Form Death Certificate?