I'm Done With Doing... Things

I get so tired of doing the regular, everyday stuff we have to do... well, every day. Routine stuff is just so boring. I don't want to do it anymore. I don't like clipping my nails, taking showers, going to the bathroom, getting haircuts, buying clothes, washing clothes, eating (well, sometimes), drinking, cleaning my glasses, cleaning my room, making my bed, going to school, or brushing my teeth. I'm just so tired of doing the same things over and over again. Personal maintenance is so overrated anyway. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't want to end up sitting around, not going anywhere, just watching tv, eating ice cream, and lounging in my own filth. (I mean, come on. I'm not a girl.) But still, it would be nice if I just gave up taking showers or something. I'll just hang air fresheners around my neck and tell girls "that's the way a man's SUPPOSED to smell" while puffing out my chest and bragging that I don't wash my clothes. Hey, this is Colorado; I'm sure I can find some earthy chick that would go for that sort of thing. Or maybe I'll give up going to the bathroom. I'll see how long I can go before I either give in or explode and die. Yeah. I'll teach those Buddhists what REAL concentration is. Then again, maybe, just for a change of pace, I just might START making my bed. I think I'll begin with that one and work my way up...

Think Before You Speak

I went to an Air Force Academy basketball game tonight. They had a weird overflow parking area almost half a mile away from Clune Arena, where the Falcons play. As we were walking toward the arena, I heard this guy about thirty feet behind us making an idiot out of himself. He said, "You know, I hear they're not as good as everyone says they are." Oh really, Sherlock? Well who did you hear it from, then? What you just said is impossible, you moron. Either "everyone" says the same thing, or they don't, but you can't have "everyone" saying the same thing, and then "hear" something different. That doesn't make any sense. The guy was apparently trying to sound like he knew more than absolutely nothing about the team, obviously to impress his already uninterested wife. All I ask is that people start thinking about what they're going to say before they say it, especially if those people already know that they're idiots.

I Love My Family

I wouldn't trade living in the Reed household for a thousand dollars (any more than that, and I could afford to move out). In how many homes would you have the chance to hear "Come on, let's pray. I'm starving," and "I'm gonna spit on your toothbrush! I've done it before!" in the same day? Not many, I'll tell you that right now. So ends another day at Casa De Reed. It's so funny to hear my siblings fighting over the bathroom, even though we have another one less than twenty steps away. Seriously, I counted. Nineteen steps. Oh well. Life's never boring, even when you live in a small bedroom community made up of churchgoers and old people, as long as you've got material coming out the wazoo from your family. I don't think I'll be mentioning names anymore, though. They're great. I'm constantly hearing insults like "No one cares what you think, 'cause you're fat!" and "You're so dumb, you don't even know you're alive!" Scary, huh? The only group better suited for observational humor than my immediate family is my extended family. I could tell you stories about ice fights, first snow days, mysterious creepy strangers, family games, restaurant shenanigans, and much more, but I won't now, because... Well, I just don't want to.

I Can't Wait To Get Old

Being old is going to be so awesome. I've been looking forward to it for years now. Seriously, what's better than scaring young children and being given a license to do ANYTHING YOU WANT? I can't think of a thing. I saw an elderly couple eating lunch at a Chipotle the other day, and the husband (well, I'm assuming they're married; it's either that or he's the oldest true player in the world) got a water cup from the lady at the cash register and filled it up with Coke, right there in front of her. He's old, what's she gonna do, call the cops? Yessir, being old is going to rock. I plan on getting a reputation in my neighborhood as a crotchety old man. Maybe I'll get a niche thing going with some sort of overarching motif, like snakes. I'll be "crazy snake man." Kids will tell other kids in the neighborhood, "Don't go near crazy snake man's house. He'll feed you to his boa, and no one will ever hear from you again." That'll be awesome. I'm going to spoil my grandkids rotten, which is the job of any grandfather worth his salt, but I'm going to make sure all the kids who live near me pee their pants when my name is mentioned. That's right. Fear the snake man. I'll steal things for the fun of it, like postage stamps, books, freeze-dried coffee beans, Metamucil, cars, and Chinese people. No one will care, 'cause I'm old. I'll have a weekly poker night to which I'll invite all my other crotchety old friends, and we'll tell stories about who just died, who's kids are total screw-ups, and who recently got an artificial what, all over cigars and bourbon. Plus, I won't have to worry about getting haircuts, because I won't have very much of it anyway.

People Don't Usually Talk Like That

I saw the headline for this "helpful" little article at MSN. Here's a handy guide to faking your way through Superbowl Sunday. I can only hope, for the sake of the writer, that the suggested comments were put there for humor's sake, because they'll make a faker stand out like a sore thumb (or a good halftime show).

Sick Day

Today, my sister stayed home from school because she was sick. Apparently, laziness is a sickness nowadays (and I know you're reading this, Ashton. Deal with it). Anyway, I heard my mom yelling at my sister for either doing something dumb or not doing something, I'm not really sure. The point is, she was talking about what my sister did today. Evidently, she ate four candy bars, a block of cheese, and half a carton of raspberry juice, all while staying home "sick." This, ladies and gentlemen, is why the terrorists hate us.

As Effective As A One-Legged Man In A Butt-Kicking Contest

NASA is, by far, the most useless government agency EVER. What have they actually done for us? Nothing! What advances have we made in any of the sciences because of the "contributions" of NASA? I'll tell you: ball bearings and a pen that writes upside-down. That's it! And the pen thing was developed as a novelty in the first place! Really, the only thing we have a use for on Earth that NASA has had a hand in creating, is better ball bearings. So, if you ever go to a grocery store and get a cart that DOESN'T wobble or constantly turn in one direction, thank NASA for that, because it wouldn't even happen that often if NASA didn't exist. So, after the decades of research and the trillions of dollars that have been dumped into this useless program, all the "brilliant" minds at NASA have bestowed upon us lowly peons is the ability to write a note from the BOTTOM OF A TABLE. That's it. So thank you, NASA, for making yourselves such an easy pick for "worst government mistake EVER."

You Drive A Tiburon? Oh, So You're An Idiot

I hate, hate, HATE Hyundai Tiburons and the people who drive them. I think they actually get to walk right to the front of the line at Disneyland, as they should, because they've clearly got the intellectual capacity of a small piece of white bread. I was driving home, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, this sweaty, flaming turd of a car comes lumbering up on my bumper. Then, apparently in order to prove his car's performance superiority to my '88 Jeep with snow tires, he barrels around me and then immediately gets off the interstate. Needless to say, I was so impressed with his car's speed, I nearly messed my pants. What's the deal? Apparently, there are guys who say to themselves, "I'd really like a car with high performance and great handling and doesn't look like a two-year-old just pulled it out of his butt. What's this ass-ugly car over here that's dirt-cheap and doesn't have any of those things I previously mentioned? Oh, a Geo Metro? OK, then what's that even uglier car that just lost in a drag race to that Metro? A Tiburon? Great, I'll take it!" Being proud of owning a Tiburon is kinda like being proud of an unusually large nose. It may get the job done, but no one wants to hear about it, and you should hide it whenever you can.

Fend For Yourself

I don't like the system we have here in America concerning pedestrians on the streets. Apparently, in some parts of Europe, you can cross the street anywhere you want- at your own risk. That's the way I think it should be. Cars have the right of way, period. If you get hit by a car while you're minding your own business on a sidewalk or in an elevator or in your apartment, it's YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT. That's right. Power to the car! Down with people who "like to walk," or "are just walking to their cars," or "ran out of gas," or "don't have enough money to buy a car." Get off the road, jerks. This is the country that spawned road-hogging muscle cars. Let's get back to our roots. I'm feeling nostalgic.

*You'll forgive my impatience. I'm just a little edgy from having to clean eight or nine bodies' worth of blood from my front grill THIS MORNING ALONE. Man, maybe I should get either my horn or my brakes fixed...

R.I.P. Johnny Carson

I just found out that late-night legend Johnny Carson died earlier today at his home in Malibu. He was the king of late-night whose shoes Jay Leno only WISHES he could fill. He died of emphysema (further impetus to stop smoking or never to start in the first place). It's a shame, having someone so legendary brought down by something so easily preventable. You'll be missed, Johnny.

Wal-Mart Sucks

Why I Love Being White

I hate it when people of another race make fun of white people for whatever reason, and there are many reasons given. They're just jealous. Being white is awesome, and I, for one, am not ashamed of my caucasian heritage. I'm allowed to be proud of my history just as much as any member of any other race. Here are some reasons why being white kicks ass:

1. If we get pulled over, the cops don't assume we have any drugs or guns in the car.
2. We don't get stopped in airports.
3. We're more likely to go to college than jail.
4. Most of us can speak English (you know, that pesky "official language" of our country).
5. We're allowed to be CEO's.
6. If we become Supreme Court justices, no one complains.
7. Colleges don't accept "token white guys." They actually look at our grades.
8. "Police brutality? What's that?"
9. Oh yeah, we control the freaking world.

Now, I'm not trying to knock any other races. These are only reasons why it is good to be white, not reasons why other races suck, 'cause they don't. Be proud of your own ethnicity, people. I'm sure there are lots of reaons why being Polish is great, for example.

An AudioBlog Test (Thanks John)

Even More Things That Are Inexplicably Famous Or Popular

As some of you may remember, I posted a list of people and things that were famous and/or popular. Well, I've got some new stuff to add onto the list. This is just an amendment (and it, too, will most likely get updated).

25. Kevin Costner: His career is a complete mystery to me. Why he ever got acting jobs to begin with is beyond me, but why he ever got a DIRECTING job is, I think, beyond ANYONE. We'll figure out how the Egyptians built the pyramids long before we figure out why Kevin Costner was ever famous.
26. Mild Salsa: What's the point? Dude, you might as well put ketchup on your chips. If I see that a Mexican restaurant serves mild salsa, I've been known to kill several patrons on my way out the door.
27. Jamie Oliver: He's not that great a cook. Plus, that lisp is really annoying.
28. Chai Tea: This is the Pink Floyd of beverages (everyone loves it, but I have no idea why).
29. Chris Tucker: Apparently, and I was unaware of this, yelling in a really obnoxious voice will make ANY line funny!
30. Hyundai: Wow. I guess making an incredibly shoddy product and backing it up with an amazing warrantee actually WILL get you somewhere. Seriously, who wants a car that NEEDS that good of a warrantee? Apparently, Dell is following in Hyundai's footsteps in this regard, so...
31. Dell Computers: See above.
32. Refusing to learn English: For those of you who have never lived in the Southwest, yes, it is quite popular for immigrants (read: aliens) to establish whole towns where no one speaks a lick of English. It's my country, and you're going to speak my language, got it?
33. Bush-Bashing: Oh, you're so original to make jokes about the president's intellectual capacity! Wow. No one has EVER thought of that before. You are a true TV legend.
34. Wendy's: "Inexpensive" doesn't mean good. Sure, they have a sizable dollar menu, but does that make their food taste any less like a B.O. sandwich? No, the answer is it does not.
35. Ridley Scott: He's just a bad director. Have you ever seen the original theatrical cut of "Blade Runner?" Slow, poorly acted, slow, bad special effects, and slow. It is, seriously, the most boring Sci-Fi movie I've EVER SEEN. That really means something, considering the fact that I've seen "Solaris."

It's Over. Continuing To Protest Just Makes You Look Stupid.

OK. Today, it's official: Anyone who still has a "Kerry-Edwards" sticker on his car is a complete idiot. You lost. Give it up. "Oh, I'm so mad about the right and just choice for President actually WINNING! I'm going to protest by displaying my stupidity on the back of my car!" That'll show us backwoods, redneck, gun-toting, Jesus-loving, beer-drinking, NASCAR-watching, mullet-sporting klan member hicks a thing or two about "voting for the candidate who DOESN'T have the personality of a head of lettuce." Yeah, you're really putting us in our place by REFUSING TO TAKE A STICKER OFF YOUR CAR. We're really hurt by that. Just hope that we don't simply take it as a sign that Kerry supporters are the laziest people in the country. Careful, or your subtle plan for a "sticker coup detat" may just be mistaken for, you know, "an inability to find the Goof-Off."

Overcrowding Isn't The Problem. It's a Symptom.

People are once again complaining that the prisons in my home state of Colorado are overcrowded. This isn't a new concern. People have been bitching about it for years. The problem, however, does not lie with the size of the prisons. The problem is with judges who lack imagination. I want to see more creative sentencing. White collar criminals can easily be punished with a prison sentence, because they're used to living in an open, free world. Repeat offenders who commit more "heinous" crimes are generally from middle and lower classes. They come from the projects, so putting them in a small concrete room with limited access to educational materials, free exercise, and clean bathrooms is more like sending them home. In some cases, it's even better than home. Caning is the punishment of the future. People would be less inclined to raise hell if there were a tangible threat to have the aformentioned hell beaten out of them. Or, instead of wasting all that time on finding a certified caner, scheduling the live broadcast, picking proper cane materials, making up a good excuse for why the prisoner doesn't need to bring his pants, and providing some sort of topical rub for afterward, we could just cut off a limb of his or her choice. Now THAT would make a great reality show.

The Greatest Movies Nobody Has Seen

The awards show season is in full swing, and I have to admit, I love it. I didn't get a chance to watch the Golden Globes this year, because Desperate Housewives was on, and I can't miss that. Rest assured, however, that I will be glued to my tv for the full three-hour-long extravaganza that is the Academy Awards. I do have a problem, though, with the winners in the "Best Picture" category as of late. NO ONE WATCHES THEM. The only exception to this rule in the past ten years has been "The Return of the King." Everything else that has won best picture has not been tremendously successful in the box office. Some may say, "Oh, well that's because Americans wouldn't appreciate good cinema if it beat them down and made them bite the curb." While I'm not disagreeing with that statement, I don't think that's the reason for this disturbing trend. It's because of the extensive campaigning that gets done. Filmmakers advertise in Variety and The Hollywood Reporter to get nominations and votes at the Oscars. I love to watch them, but they've been so political for, well, my entire life, I think it is now detracting from the honor of the awards. Some of the "best pictures of the year" have been terrible. Does anyone know what film beat out "Saving Private Ryan" for best picture? "Shakespeare in Love." And how many people actually SAW it? About nine. In 1996, "The English Patient" beat out "Fargo" and "Jerry Maguire." Again, who saw "The English Patient," and of those people, who liked it? It was terrible movie. And don't even get me started on "Chicago." I can't believe it was even nominated. If I ever meet one of the people who decided to nominate Rob Marshall for best director, I swear I'll punch them in the mouth. Hard.

American Idol

Last night, I watched the season premier of American Idol. It was awesome. Now, I don't watch after all the bad people have been ripped apart by Simon, so it's only like a 2-3 week thing. After that, I go back to watching reruns of Seinfeld and Everybody Loves Raymond. American Idol is the funniest show on tv in its first few weeks. Simon's comments are sometimes funny, but the best parts are when you just sit and listen to some of those horrific singers. Sometimes, it's so bad it'll even make YOU uncomfortable while you're watching. You have to ask yourself, "What kind of friend actually told this retard he could sing?" That's not a friend in my book. If I ever decide to go into a talent-based competition, and any of you realize that I'm laughably bad at it, please, PLEASE tell me so. I wouldn't want to make a complete fool out of myself and anyone who may have lied to me about my talent in that area. This one girl, Mary Roach, had the worst voice I've ever heard. Seriously. It was so weird. Most of the time, no one could even understand what she was singing. I just want to know why these people audition in the first place. I'm sure some are there just so they could say they were "on" American Idol, but not Mary. She was dead serious when she said she'd had complete strangers tell her how great a singer she was. What!? Let me ask you something, Mary: Were these strangers wavy and colorful with horses in their hair and tv coming out of their mouths? If so, then they weren't strangers, they were coat racks, and you were STONED OUT OF YOUR MIND. Your next "audition" should be for rehab or a mental institution, both of which will, I'm sure, readily move you on to the next round.

A Very Long Semester

I tried to put up this post last night, but apparently, blogger.com is unaware of the popularity of their service. I couldn't post anything because the site was getting all weird. Anyway, yesterday I started classes for the Spring semester, and one of the classes I have on Tuesdays and Thursdays is called Philosophy and Society. I guess I should've taken it as a sign when I saw for the first time that the Communist Manifesto was required reading for the course. The professor is... interesting. She told us we were going to be watching a video produced by a known anarchist, "even though his politics are a little extreme." Then, she immediately apologized if she offended any potential anarchists in the class! The woman is not at all afraid that there could have possibly been anarchists in my class, but she was apparently terrified by the thought of making one uncomfortable by calling an anarchist "a little extreme." This is going to be an interesting semester. I'll probably be able to come up with weekly updates on this one...

Most People Pronounce This Word Incorrectly

The word is template. Most people (and when I say most people, I mean an inordinately large group of idiots posing as real people) pronounce this word with a long A sound. You know, tem-plate. This is not only incorrect, it's moronic. It takes a lack of understanding of the basic rules of our language to make such a stupid mistake. Alright, once and for all, the word is pronounced like "templit." That's it. There's no alternate or otherwise less-often-used pronunciation. In fact, let me give you people who say it the wrong way a little tip. That's not the only way to spell it. An equally acceptable spelling for the word is "templet," though it is more commonly used in England. Hopefully that will get all this "plate" nonsense out of your heads for good.

Classes: Finally, I Can Get Back To Some Semblance Of Normalcy

I, at the age of 19, have finally realized that I don't like to sit around the house all day anymore. It really did take me this long, but I now realize that I like having a regular schedule like the one I have to go by as a college student. You get up, you sit around for awhile, you go to class and zone out, take a break, go to class and zone out, come home, eat, read, watch TV, watch a movie, and go to bed. That's the kind of minute-by-minute rigid schedule I like. The actual kolledge x-periense is one of the easiest of my life, though. I've even thought about changing to a sociology major, just because I think I could graduate without having to actually...you know, "think," or "do any work at all." Stuff like that. Oh, and by the way, happy "celebration of the life and 'tragic' death of a known communist activist who just happened to be black" day (whoops! What I meant was MLK day).

Complexity: My Sworn Enemy

Though many of you will quickly disagree with this, and even though it may not appear to be the case based on my occasional verbosity on this blog, it's really the truth for me: I hate complexity. No matter where it rears its ugly head, I'm sick and tired of the completely infinite nature of that which we call "life." Allow me to clarify. I am not saying that I don't like the fact that the human soul lives forever. "Infinite," in this case, refers to the number of possible directions to take and life choices to make. It's insane. I'm glad I've got the help of a heavenly Father, because to expect me to find my way through this life all by myself is like expecting Roseanne Barr to be, you know, "funny." Ain't no way that's going to happen. I'm a somewhat neurotic person, anyway, but to place me in the middle of a human life cycle with no tangible compass or easy-to-read map is dangerous. I'm one twisted guy, but really, left to our own devices, we all are (twisted, not guys). I see the most amazing things in this world in their simplest forms. Let me explain what I mean. I saw my great-grandmother feeding and helping her husband, my great-grandfather, a few months before he died last year when my family drove up to Lake Elizabeth, California to visit them. He was, at this point, about as helpless a an infant, but she took care of him, anyway. It was incredible for me to see this kind of dedication. She could have allowed the nurses at the hospital to do everything for him, because she lived an hour's drive away. She didn't, though. She shaved and dressed and fed and cleaned up after him in the twilight of his life. It was something so simple, but I was profoundly affected by it. Simplicity is the way to go, people. Next time you get stuck in a traffic jam less than a hundred yards behind an accident, and there's no way to leave for over an hour, take some time to appreciate the fact that all the people around you just got out of their cars to meet and greet one another and to pass the time. Or, next time you find yourself outside at night and happen to look up, really look at the stars. Appreciate the fact that God took the time to make you out of all that stuff out there. No one does that, anymore. Take pleasure in the simple things; we get enough complexity this side of the pearly gates.

Another Sphere Of Rocks. La-Dee-Freakin'-Da!

The Huygens space probe recently sent a mini-probe to Titan, Saturn's largest moon. What scientists discoverd was shocking: satellite photos taken from thousands of miles away make Titan look like pretty much everything else in the universe from thousands of miles away. Actually recorded on the NASA channel (no seriously, they have it): "Ooooh, look: a light area in the middle of that dark patch. Do you have any idea what this means? One of two things. Either the core of Titan is made of liquid metallic hydrogen at a temperature of fifty billion degrees Fahrenheit which is then belched out onto the surface and cools in a crystal formation, or some jackass didn't bother to clean that peanut butter stain on the lens. But don't worry, though. John Q. Public from Anytown, USA is paying for it, not us!" *hearty laugh followed by a wheezy choke from years of smoking* Seriously, people are going crazy over these photos of possible hydrocarbon rivers on the surface of Titan. Why? Well, do you know what hydrocarbons are? Gasoline! That's right. NASA is ecstatic about the possibility of dirt-cheap gas! OK, that's a lie (well, only the cheap gas part. Gasoline is, in fact, a hydrocarbon). The real answer is this: the Urey-Miller process (the experiment that created "life" in a test tube (and when I say "life," I mean "some of the same chemicals that can also be found in organic life forms, but also a lot of chemicals that would kill any of the actual living things that weren't even produced in the first place")) results in a whole bunch of hydrocarbons. So, if you're an Evolutionist (read: "idiot"), this means that there could be life on Titan. So, regardless of your beliefs on the origin of life on this planet, what's the bottom line? What does this have to do with you? I have the answer to that one, as well. Nothing. Actually, no. Take that back. It's more like less than nothing, because your tax dollars paid for the whole thing.

Denominations Suck

That's right, I said it. I'm so sick of people leaving churches because they "weren't getting fed." These are people who have been Christians for decades, not new believers. Do you somehow believe that, because you've been in the family for a longer time, you're suddenly allowed to crap all over its unity? I love what my pastor says to people who claim to "not be getting fed." He calmly tells them to pick up their own spoon and dig in. It's not the responsibility of the pastor to hand-feed you the Bible. Learn it for yourself. Take some pride in your faith. Stand up, wipe the drool from your chin, and get to work. People who leave a church because the teaching "just doesn't do it" for them are weak crybaby Christians, and they give the rest of us a bad name. A Catholic friend of a friend once asked, "Why are there so many different denominations in the Christian church?" He received no answer. We don't even know why we want to go to certain church. Mainly, it's because of the worship and the teaching. Grow up. You people make me sick. The bulk of your faith should be evident in your life, not in whether or not your church allows dancing in the aisles or your pastor uses a certain translation. I say again: grow up. Take some responsibility for your own faith and learn scripture for yourself. The idea that the clergy were the only ones allowed to read the Bible is what split the Catholic church in the first place. Don't focus on what we disagree on, or we're all in a lot of trouble.

Cube

I recently saw the 1997 indie horror/sci-fi film, "Cube" and its sequel, "Cube 2: Hypercube." Now, I'm not a fan of sci-fi be any stretch of the imagination, but I thoroughly enjoyed both of these movies. I think I liked the first one better, though. The premise is simple: a group of strangers who have never met before each wake up in a different cubic room, and each room has a door on each of its six sides. None of them has any idea why they have been abducted, or even where this place is. Oh, and one more thing: some of the rooms are rigged with really gruesome, and sometimes quite inventive, death traps. Eventually, they all find each other and decide on a basic plan of escape from the endless cubic rooms. Don't look for great revelations here. The joy is definitely in the journey, not the destination. The sequel starts out pretty much the same way, except this time, the fundamental laws of physics don't even apply in this new "hypercube." Time and gravity are unique to each individual room, and there are a few other surprises. There's a prequel to the first one coming out on DVD this month, called "Cube: Zero," and I hear that one's good, too. If you can find the first one, though, and you're even remotely a fan of sci-fi, then I highly recommend picking it up.

Disclaimer (Or... Clarification... Whatever)

It has come to my attention that, while I thought it was clear, a lot of people might be under the impression that my previous post on Ludacris was NOT sarcastic. On the contrary, it was extremely sarcastic. It was very dry, I'll give you that, but it was, in fact, making fun of him and his lack of originality. Sorry for the confusion, folks. I just don't want to have to start secretly labelling my sarcastic posts so people will know if they "get it" or not.

Enough With The Period Epics

I recently saw the trailer for Hollywood's newest offering into the period epic sub-genre. You know what I'm talking about. The modern era of period epics started with Braveheart, then we got Gladiator, all three Lord of the Rings movies, Troy, Alexander, King Arthur, and now Ridley Scott is at it again with his crusade epic, Kingdom of Heaven. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say to the big studios, "Stop putting these things out." Enough is enough, already. They're not even good anymore. From what I hear, the only thing epic about Oliver Stone's bomb, Alexander, was its ability to put audiences to sleep. And King Arthur probably left the real Arthur Pendragon rolling in his grave. These movies suck. Braveheart was good, because it was the first, but now, everything else is just another suction tube on the udders of this cash cow. Plus, you hear the same ridiculous hype surrounding each one. "Best actions scenes EVER." "Most money spent on a single battle sequence EVER." "Breathtaking." "It'll leave you in shock and awe." "Better than sex!" "I think I wet myself." Stuff like that. I'd like to add another one: "Biggest steaming pile of studio turd with little bits of Orlando Bloom EVER." Where's the linguistics department at I-forgot-the-name-but-who-gives-a-crap university when you really do need something banned?

If Rappers Are Musicians, I'm A Novelist

My sister was watching TRL a few days ago, when I was walking by and happened to hear one of the VJ's talking to Missy Elliot about her new album. One of the first things she asked was, "Who's on it?" This is the fundamental difference between rappers and real musicians. The rest of the musicians who are currently working on new projects are trying their darndest to BE THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO PERFORM ON THE ALBUM. Rappers, on the other hand, are constantly getting new people with whom they will work, making it that much easier to complete the album. Musicians want the record to be an artistic offering from them alone. Rappers want to have their picture on the front and their voice absent from the album itself. Plus, don't even get me started on these "brilliant" producers. An eight-year-old mongoloid with Garageband and ten extra minutes in his day could come up with the beat for the next big hip-hop recording. The worst part is, most of their samples come from real musicians' songs, anyway! I mean, would people have allowed Wagner to steal eight bars from Paganini and repeat them endlessly while he read his own ridiculously trite poetry over it? I don't think so. That's why rappers are no more musicians than are baby chimps or people who have whatever it was that Forrest Gump had.

Heaven Is A Place On Earth

Man, I love that song. Anyway, moving on...
I am fascinated by human behavior. Even though we are quite aware of our limited imaginations, that doesn't stop us from putting a blatantly "human spin" onto things that are clearly beyond our comprehention. My favorite example of this is heaven. Every single person on Earth has a slightly different view of heaven than everyone else. As a kid, and I'm not making this up, I believed heaven was a giant golden rectangular prism, pretty much like an enormous shoebox floating in orbit around the earth. As a said, everything was gold, except for one side, which was made of glass, or some other heavenly clear substance. The side was clear, so we could look down on Earth and see how everything was working out with all of us gone. Oh, and the best part is, I didn't want to go. Seriously, when I was a child, I wasn't all too thrilled with the prospect of singing to God all day, so I didn't really want to go to heaven when I died. Since then, I've decided something. I firmly believe heaven is its own reward. Let me explain. I don't think there's some sort of "goodie bag" we'll get that makes it worthwhile to be there. The gift is that we're there at all. Just like we need there to be cold and heat, darkness and light, Coke and Pepsi, heaven is good because of the simple fact that it's not hell.

Oh Yeah? Well, I'll Ban YOUR MOM'S Words!

Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been handed an urgent message from Lake Superior State University. This is obviously a very prestigious institution of higher education that more than eight people have heard of. Otherwise, why would they put out a press release? I mean, if they were some little nothing university in the heart of Crapville, Middle America, why would they think they could possibly make a difference, or, for that matter, not be considered a total joke? It is for this reason that I am pretending that they are, in fact, a reputable university. That would actually make the rest of this post even better. Apparently, the all-knowing geniuses that comprise the linguistics department at this major university want us to know that they’re angry. They’re furious at the American people for uttering words without the expressed, written consent of the aforementioned visionaries. Every new year, evidently, this group at the university publishes a list of “banned words” that they no longer wish to see in the following year. It’s a list of, basically, the most popular words and phrases from the previous trip around the calendar. In essence, this is a group of people who see the world changing, and, instead of trying to catch up, decide to whine like nine-year-old girls until they get their pathetic way. What follows is a defense of the “banned words” that, despite the enormous efforts of a few crusty old men in a glorified community college, will not be banned.

Erectile Dysfunction: Their accusation is that it was overused by Viagra and Levitra ads. Wait just a minute, you thumb-sucking assheads. Neither Viagra nor Levitra has even used the phrase “erectile dysfunction” in their ads for several years. You’re just a few pop culture generations behind on that one, morons.

Wardrobe Malfunction: No one even says this one anymore, you idiots! Maybe you should have put it on your list of “banned words from the first two weeks of February, 2004.”

You’re Fired: Apparently, the “intellectual elite” of this country actually believes that Donald Trump was, in fact, the very first human ever to fire someone by saying, “You’re fired.” Previously, the only phrases used to terminate employment were, “I’m sleeping with your wife, and clean out your desk” and, “Dave! I can’t believe it! You just won the lottery! Well, I guess you don’t need to work here anymore. Just kidding… but only about the lottery.”

Carbs: Apparently, from what I’ve uncovered, they weren’t just talking about the word for this one. No, they actually went one step further. You heard it here first, people. Lake Superior State University has officially banned carbohydrates. Apparently, “being able to move and also not getting osteoporosis or scurvy” isn’t high on their priorities list.

And there you go. A list of unbanned banned words. Oh, and one more thing. I had thought, for most of my life, that it was the duty of higher-ups in academia to contribute the most to society. As Ben Franklin once said, “Intelligence without education is like silver in the mine.” (Apparently gold had not yet been discovered in the early nineteenth century.) I think the phrase, “Educated intelligence that is not put to proper use is like silver that is used to make really tough straws that can be machine-washed and reused over and over again” Goes hand-in-hand with good ol’ Ben Franklin’s axiom. If this is what these guys are spending their time doing, then I think I’m going to start looking to Hollywood to provide me with a decent role model. I’m sure Will Ferrell could use a protégé.

Texans Can Just Shut Up

I read an article in the paper today about how Texas has a language unto itself that is different from the dialects in any other state of the union. That, however, is not the part I have a problem with. My beef comes from a quotation from a guy who said that Texas was the only state that was ever a separate country. Not so, Mr doesn't-check-his-facts-and-probably-still-wets-the-bed. California and Hawaii were both independent countries before they were "acquired" by the United States. In fact, Hawaii has something Texas will never have. It's the only state that has ever been a kingdom. I'm sick and tired of Texans being so irrationally proud of their state that they'll just make up crap about it so it will somehow stand out more. I'm not bashing Texas itself. It's an amazingly vast state with a rich history and a unique culture, but the people who hail from the Lone Star state can really bug me sometimes. Grow up. It's like you're fourth-graders saying, "My dad can beat up your dad." However true that may or may not be, it doesn't change the fact that there are more people who believe we never landed on the moon than there are who care about your ridiculous "state pride."

Sometimes I Wish...

...I actually were crazy. That would make a lot of things a whole lot easier to explain.
...I could live life as a different person for one day and keep the knowledge of that experience when I changed back to being me.
...I could stop time like that girl on that awesome 80's sitcom, "Out Of This World."
...I had a unique ability that no one else I know posessed.
...I could finally be done with all this book learnin'.
...I my name was Klaus.
...I had four arms.
...I could interpret dreams.
...I had a literal photographic memory like the great yet troubled inventor Nikola Tesla.
...I could get a glimpse of God's master plan.
...I could speak a dead language.
...I could witness the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
...My dog could talk to me.
...I could show someone exactly what I was thinking with some sort of "mental projector."
...I could fly.
...It could all just be over.
...I could understand women.

Ludacris: Textbook Example Of Thinking Outside The Box

So, I was watching the newest Ludacris video when I noticed something peculiar. The man's arms are huge. I guess it's some sort of gimmick for the video or something. Anyway, I thought about it, and I realized that Luda had NEVER DONE ANYTHING LIKE THAT BEFORE. The idea of making a part of his body grotesquely big is totally original and nothing like the idea some may have had to make their feet huge in a video called "Stand Up" that had absolutely nothing to do with Luda. As if that would ever happen, because I'd have to make fun of Ludacris relentlessly for totally running out of ideas and also for being a buttmunch. Good thing, huh?

PS- I'm trying to single-handedly revive the use of the word "buttmunch." It was highly underrated, and I don't think we got the full use out of it yet. We're bringing it back, baby! Tell your friends.

Emma

My dog, Emma, is the ultimate hedonist. If she doesn't want to do something, then dammit, she won't do it. I could toss her favorite orange rubber ball right at her, but if SHE doesn't feel like catching it, she'll just sit there and let it hit her in the face. When she wants to play, though, she's all over you until you either chain her up outside and remind her that she is, in fact, a dog, or you give in and start playing. I wish I had the ability to manipulate others that way. Man, that'd be sweet...

Christmas Cards

The problem I have with Christmas cards is the fact that people you haven't had any real contact with for years, sometimes even since high school, are sending you pictures of them with their children, whom you have never EVER met. You know, I don't really care how your son who I've never spoken to just made it up to "gray shirts" in the AWANA program. Maybe hang out with me or something, and THEN I'll start doing my friendly duty and pretending to care about the fact that your daughter finally got accepted to beauty school.

So Simple, Yet So Complex

Bowling is, by far, the single greatest experience in the life of a human being. No, seriously. Where else could you see the full gamut of human emotions? You've got your love (people go bowling on first dates sometimes), hate (well, a lot of people hate bowling), happiness (the thrill of victory), sadness (the agony of realizing that the number one substance found in the finger holes is human feces), hunger (I have have nothing funny to write here), uh... fullness. Plus, you get all kinds of people spanning the entire range of knowlege of bowling etiquette. Some don't know that you shouldn't bowl right next to someone else at the same time as that person. Some don't know that you take your ball back to the shelf at the end of your games. There's also the whole "skill" level thing. I put "skill" in parentheses because I honestly believe bowling requires none. Saying "bowling requires skill" is like saying "Elton John is just metro." Right. Anyway, you could sit down and be between a guy who bowls eight nights a week and a group of teenagers who care more about how cool they look with a cigarette in their hands than, you know, winning or lung cancer. That's what's so great about bowling. So much variety every time you go, but so much consistency from you, yourself. Bowling, my friends, is God's gift to man. Mark my words.

PS- That feces thing is totally true. Have fun!

New Year's Resolutions

Since I really have little motivation to change, I don't make New Year's Resolutions. I do, however, wish that some OTHER people would vow to change, so what I have here is a list of resolutions for other people:

1. The French: Get a pair.
2. Paris Hilton: Please, PLEASE go away.
3. Michael Jackson's Fans: Give it up, people. He was never really THAT good anyway.
4. Emo People: Either pick preppy or goth. Don't do both so half-assed. If God doesn't permit being lukewarm, why should a short-lived faux-deep style be any more forgiving?
5. Ashlee Simpson: First, stop spelling your name that way. Second, just come out and admit that you lip-sync. Your fate couldn't be any worse than that of Milli-Vanilli.
6. VH1: Stop doing those stupid list/ranking shows. No one cares about "the top 240 actors named John Stamos who WEREN'T on 'Full House.'"
7. Hockey Fans: Again, give it up. The ideas of athleticism, strategy in sports, and "not being a completely stupid game" went right out the window with the invention of hockey.
8. Nerds: Just stop being nerds. That whole "trading card games are cool" thing is frankly beginning to get quite sad. It's all fun and games until you realize you've never held a girl's hand.
9. Liberals: Hang yourselves.
10. Fat People: Stop eating. You know your problem isn't glandular. Just promise you'll only eat once a week. Then, you might actually become a productive member of society that contributes more than carbon dioxide and heat.
11. Hollywood: Stop with the happy endings. "A Series Of Unfortunate Events" came close, but I want more. Life doesn't always work out the way you'd like it to. In fact, I have yet to see something work out the way I'd like it to... EVER.
12. Jay Leno: Start being funny. I know you've got killer stand-up, but wouldn't it be nice to go out after actually having made a couple people laugh at something on the show? Just a thought.
13. According To Jim: Please, PLEASE get cancelled.
14. My Old High School: Start focusing on academics, or you'll be graduating entire classes of people who'll have to wear a name tag to work for the rest of their lives.
15. Reality TV: Change your name. It's just not working out. It's not me, it's you.
16. Mexicans: Stay in you own damn country. If you don't like it there and it's full of Mexicans, then maybe the problem isn't the water, if you know what I mean, so why would we take you?
17. People From The Midwest: Stay there. We don't like your kind here in REAL AMERICA. You see, here, we speak English. It's a drinking fountain, not a bubbler. It's either soda or pop, but not the specific term "coke" used to describe all sodas or pops in general. Oh, and White Castle makes the worst burgers I've ever had.
18. Mormons: Pull your heads out of your butts. I've seen made-up cults on sitcoms that make more sense than your screwy religion. Even Buddhism would be a more realistic choice. Though, who am I to impugn the great and wise teachings of a half-baked teenager who tripped over a rock in the forest?

And We Can't Figure Out Why The Brits Don't Understand Us

I was at a high school football game when I heard this exchange take place: "Dude, that jacket is SO not pimp." "Dude, what the hell are you talking about? It has the word PIMP written on it!" I love America.

...And That's When My Entire Mouthful Of Martinelli's Came Out My Nose

This last Christmas, I was just sitting down to Christmas dinner with my family. We had just finished opening all of our presents, and we were ready to start with some delicious-looking honeybaked ham when my grandmother decided to quote something her mother used to say at the same time every Christmas. "I wonder what all the poor people are eating?" I tell you, I've never laughed that hard at anything my grandmother has said before.

Overpopulation? Where?

I'm so sick of people complaining about overpopulation. Apparently, the people who complain about this have never been anywhere outside Calcutta and Mexico City. Having driven across our great land on several occasions and in various directions, I can honestly say that there is far more uninhabited land in America than there is inhabited land. Most of this great country is completely blank. Move the homeless out there, or something. Seriously, we're occupying about 2/5 of the entire country. Plus, we're not the only country with that problem. I'd venture to guess that Japan is the only nation on Earth that should actually harbor a legitimate concern for overpopulation. For everyone else, there's plenty of room. I, for one, want to see people more concerned about the overliberalization of America. Hey, if we slaughter all the liberals, we'll have room for 51 million more people!

Man, Drunk People Are So Nice

As I've already said, I went to Greeley for New Year's Eve. While there, I went to a couple parties where there was one whole hell of a lot of alcohol being served. I've got to tell you, I really like being sober around drunk people. You see the most amazing displays of stupidity humanity has to offer. For example, my friend and I were in the back yard of some house where we saw a couple guys trying their darndest to get to the roof of the TuffShed from the trampoline. Wait. That's not the funny part. That comes later when I tell you would about the fact that there were several power lines hanging between the TuffShed and the trampoline. Seriously. These guys had apparently been drinking for HOURS. One guy, after having gotten slightly entangled in the power lines, decided he was not yet in enough danger and gave the wires a couple good yanks, apparently to "teach them a thing or two."
Another thing I've noticed is that drunk people are really, REALLY nice to almost everyone. (I know not all of them are like that, but angry drunks are far less common than all the other kinds, plus I only saw one of those all night.) Anyway, I met a whole bunch of people who, while I was completely unaware of it, went off and became my best friend. It was great. Everyone's a friend, and, more importantly, everyone's an expert. I heard the funniest stuff about the war in Iraq while these geniuses still thought they were stone-cold sober. Oh, and let's not forget about the guy who we saw just wandering around in the streets with a handle in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Every few seconds, he'd take a sip, then try another number, I guess. All in all, that night taught me a valuable lesson: always bring a camera to college parties.

No, I'm Sorry, I Actually Don't Care About Celebrities

I came home a few hours ago today, and the TV was turned to the E! channel. On it was a program that somehow concerned Jennifer Lopez. As I was walking up the stairs, I heard one of the commentators say something like, "Everyone wanted to know eveything about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez." No we don't. I'm sorry, miss biggest-idiot-ever, but I really, truly don't care about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez. That's where you're dead wrong about me. No one cares. I am so sick of this I could strangle someone. Listen to me very carefully: JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE IN THE NEWS DOESN'T MEAN I WANT THEM TO BE. The mainstream media don't tell me what I do and do not want to know. I decide that. I don't think it is physically possible for me to care any less about Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck, especially Affleck. I have more acting ability in pools of my own mucus than Ben Affleck has in his entire family. Anyway, back to business. I hate that these "celebrity experts" aka "people who don't have the ability or charisma to get a real job" think that media exposure equals the public's level of desire for more information on a given celebrity. People who want to hear about celebrities have their own minds, despite what Joan "the only thing more fake than my face is my personality" Rivers would have you believe.

Poker, Greeley, And 2005

Last night, I went up to Greeley, Colorado to spend New Year's Eve with my friends from high school, two of whom go to the University of Northern Colorado. Let me start off by saying that Greeley is one of the worst-smelling towns I've ever been to in my life. It sucks almost as bad as the Rolling Stones, but not nearly as bad as Pink Floyd. Anyway, I learned to play Texas hold 'em. I did pretty well for myself, at least for a beginner. That's a pretty fun game. I rang in the new year with little fanfare, but it was cool to be with friends. Happy 2005, everyone! Hope it doesn't suck at all.