While pundits and voters are begging that Hillary concede her party's nomination many forget the one candidate who's still seeking the highest office in the land and that is Ron Paul. Often referred to as Paultards, most of his supporters make even the folks backing Hillary look sane. Still I enjoy his campaign if not only just to laugh at his followers frothing at the mouth when discussing issues such as the trilateral commission and 9/11 conspiracies.
Even though his candidacy seems now like a footnote in this long, sad primary race my home state's Republican party seems eager to offer him 40% of the delegates in the state's GOP convention today. Even though McCain has a huge margin and will obviously take the nomination without contention the Paultards won't give up the good fight.
I'd like to go to one of these conventions actually and see what it's like for people to discuss important issues such as wide stances and the best underground brothels.
Even though I consider Paultards to be as loony as Sylvia Browne followers I actually find myself on the same side as him with his Libertarian values on social issues, but sadly the fanbase for that ideology is batshit. I guess that says a lot about me doesn't it?
"Our country's founders cherished liberty, not democracy." - Ron Paul
It's been a while since I've written about bad films. Today though I'll take a trip down memory lane and recite to you dear readers about a film that is near and dear to my heart. It was actually a small film I starred in, a movie called 'Grip Loss'.
About ten years ago my friend Ryon was unemployed and decided to pass the time by locking himself in his bedroom and writing a screenplay. The result was an ambitious undertaking of a film and he decided he would take the reigns and produce and direct it. He casted me and various other friends in the film so that we may be immortalized.
Grip Loss tells the story of James Stark, played by your author here, who's a suicidal hitman that avenges his girlfriend by taking the hands of her child molesting father. Still not content with revenge he decides to take his own life by having one of his targets kill him. For whatever reason James changes his mind at the last minute and goes ahead with the scheduled hit after a long dialogue.
Confused? Hell I read the script from it's first inception to it's final draft and I still don't get it.
The movie will always have fond memories for me though, cause the production was so much fun. To give you an idea of how shoestring the budget was Ryon came to me one night asking for money to shoot the next day. I didn't have any being young and broke so he asked me to take him to the local Indian casino. He went to the blackjack table with his last twenty dollars while I sat at the bar and nursed a beer. After about an hour he sat next to me and stated he had won enough money to shoot the next day.
That's basically how the production went for the next two years. Shot on S-VHS the script had numerous rewrites, last minute casting changes, reshoots, condiments as special effects, continuity screw ups due to my hair growing and being cut over that period of time, one kooky actor who is quite seriously insane, lighting problems, etc.
Then there was Frank. Frank was the actor who I was referring to earlier as mentally off. It's hard to describe such a man actually as he seems like a caricature out of an old Irish novel. Having the mental capacity of your average cheese mold Frank didn't take to method acting too well. In fact simply reading lines was quite a chore for him. In between takes he would tell stories of how he fought inner city gangs and how he was the baddest ass I would ever meet. This middle aged gent really tried my patience at every instance. We only had one scene to shoot with him, but it wasn't uncommon for Ryon to spend 20 minutes to get Frank to recite one line correctly. It was painful.
Still with all the production delays and nonsense associated with such a huge undertaking we had a lot of fun shooting the film. We drank and argued and flubbed lines. We laughed at ourselves trying to portray characters that were completely foreign to us and had dialogue that sounded almost alien.
Regardless of the ending result of Grip Loss I'm proud to say that I starred in it. Ryon took a huge risk in tackling a 40 minute film as his first directing gig, but I admire his perseverance in finishing it. Others would've given up at pre-production.
No I won't post any video of this film ever.
"Go see it and see for yourself why you shouldn't go see it." - Samuel Goldwyn
After my workout yesterday I started walking through the front of lobby of my gym to collect my membership card and make my exit. As I was making my way through the soccer moms standing around gossiping I see a six year old boy eyeballing me. We make eye contact and I give him a smirk. His original look of curiosity turned to rage as he jumped in front of me and did his best Hong Kong Phooey impression while yelling 'heeeeeyaaaaahhhh'.
Oh it's on.
I step into fighting stance ready for the youngin's assault. He came towards me with a flurry of short jabs that I easily slap away. I give him a tap on the noggin to which then he stopped, grasped his skull, smiled, then continued showing off his boxing skills.
The fighting continued as he introduced his style of kicks at my shins. I kept raising my leg blocking each and having fun with the little tyke. The brawl was indeed enjoyable until I heard his mother try to get his attention.
I stop and grab the little guy's hands. I laugh at a bit and tell him to go to his mommy. He starts to pout, but turns around with me following him to the front desk. Suddenly with ninja like ability the child spins and punches me right in the balls.
I collapse onto the desk. Breathing heavily I see his mother grasps the kids hand and start to scold him for genital violation. She apologizes for the incident, but I told her I deserve it for fighting someone who's eye level to my waist. She drug her kid away from me, but he still maintained his proud grin. He was a dirty little scrapper that one, but he won the fight.
Till we meet again young lad. Till we meet again.
"There are no pleasures in a fight but some of my fights have been a pleasure to win." - Muhammad Ali
Grandiose gestures of love and passion can feel like they're reserved for Hollywood and it's not hard to understand why. Few of us truly experience such sweeping acts of longing and often we're reduced to watching John Cusak holding a stereo over his head dreaming that one day we'll have a moment or two like those.
'Fall' tells the story of Michael, a cocky cab driver with a gift for the English language. He picks up Sarah, a beautiful supermodel who he charms with his wit. She instantly develops an attraction for the unattractive guy and through other chance meetings they develop an affair. Sarah falls head over heels over the confident Michael while neglecting her husband, but the passion turns almost into an obsession for both. Michael continues to pursue her by writing letters of love that swoon her into his arms, but the affair takes it's toll on her.
This movie strives to be high brow art house material, but sadly it falls short in many respects. While the dialogue between the lovers is genuine, if not a little over the top, the rest of the characters hardly seem real. The editing is clunky and the music is often inappropriate, but it's not terrible. Critics have not been kind to this movie, but I would mildly recommend it for the script alone. It is a sexy romantic tale that many may find entertaining, but for those movie snobs I doubt it'll seem original. The character of Michael is an intriguing one if nothing else.
I find it really funny that Eric Schaeffer wrote himself the part of Michael, which ends up sleeping with the uber hot model. I should write movies.
Thanks to Princess Kitten for submitting this. Wanna see a film reviewed by Wiwille? Drop me an email or comment and you'll see it soon on Erik's Ramblings. Rules are posted here.
"A narcissistic, ego-driven gabfest courtesy of indie auteur Eric Schaeffer, who appears not to have figured out that therapy is cheaper than moviemaking." - TV Guide
This day many are barbecuing, kicking back a beer or seven, and enjoying a day off. As Americans who live above the poverty line we live in luxury that most of the world can't even imagine. While we may thank our geography and timing for the blessed lives we lead we do owe a huge debt to the men and women who serve this great nation, past and present.
We may not agree with the policies of our current and former commander in chiefs, but we must appreciate the people who make up the armed services. So on this day as your enjoying your hot dogs and various outings do remember who it was who gave you the freedom to live in your gluttony. It's the very least you can do.
"137 years later, Memorial Day remains one of America's most cherished patriotic observances. The spirit of this day has not changed - it remains a day to honor those who died defending our freedom and democracy." - Doc Hastings
I could hear her voice start to whimper. She was slowly losing the fight to roll back her tears. Suddenly the water works started. I could hear pant as she tried to settle herself, but her pain was too much.
"He...he...he...fucked....he fucked...," she continued. "He....he fucked my best friend....my....my maid of honor."
"....oh....oh my God," I said. "I'm really very sorry."
I was struggling for things to say to offer some sort of condolences, but words were failing me.
As some of you know I used to be a wedding photographer. Often times I loved that job, but there were moments that made me question whether humanity had the right to exist. This was one of those times.
I remember the sitting for the couple's engagement photo. She was a striking beauty with long black hair, green eyes, and a shapely figure. Her fiance, a dopey looking gent who kind of resembles your author here, was very proud of the looks of his love and seemed very happy. My partner looked at me and I could tell we were thinking the same thing, this guy better have 10 inches to get a girl who looks like she does. They were a sweet couple though with good manners and great disposition. The shoot went so well the groom-to-be invited me to his bachelor party.
The bachelor party was unlike most I've been to. No naked ladies were present as we just hung around a bar and drank. When the subject of strippers came up the groom stated he wouldn't have anything to do with it as his lady wouldn't be happy with it. Groans came across the men in attendance and they attempted to change his mind promising to keep whatever happened that night to themselves, but he continued his protests against seeing someone without clothes on.
That night I thought to myself they would make a happy couple as he seems to love her dearly. Clearly I was mistaken.
"She....she...she...just..told me," the scorned bride continued.
I listened to the story of how he and her best friend were bumping uglies. After the fourth incident the best friend broke down and confessed to the bride about her man's infidelity.
Yes she was calling to cancel my services as a photographer, but as one in the profession is aware you're never just someone who simply takes pictures. You're often a psycho therapist and a single serving friend to many.
"I...I...I'm sorry," she said.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I said. "I'm glad this happened before you got married."
"Yeah," she said.
"Actually, you could go ahead and marry him, then take him for everything in the divorce."
She started to laugh a bit at the idea, but then thanked me for listening to her for over an hour. I wished her the best and we said our goodbyes. She put down the phone and started sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't realize the phone was still off the hook and I could hear her scream in the background. The memory of those shouts still haunt me.
I think about her sometimes. I hope she has a good life, but the cynic in me believes she hates anything with a penis. For whatever reason I imagine numerous guys trying to convince her that loving them would be a good idea, but sadly her heart is still mending from that dumbass who couldn't get his emotional house in order. It's those people I weep for, the ones who have just given up on the idea that anything good can come to them. It only takes one person to wound someones romanticism and many never recover. Sadly there is no chemo for the cancer that is betrayal.
Thankfully for every disaster wedding story I have there are many more that are positive. This is the only thing that gives me hope that some of Earth's inhabitants are worthy of simply breathing.
"A broken heart is what makes life so wonderful five years later, when you see the guy in an elevator and he is fat and smoking a cigar and saying long-time-no-see." - Phyllis Battelle
Last night I went out with Corey, Elli, and her friend Andrea. We were sitting at a nice Italian place chatting it up when the conversation took a fun turn. Being huge fans of Fight Club we sat and asked each other which celebrity we'd like to fight. Many names were thrown out including Rosie O'Donell, John Mclaughlin, Cameron Diaz, Bill O'Reilly, and Vladimir Putin.
Finally other topics arose as we ate our dinner, but every now and then I piped up with a name out of the blue which may or may not have annoyed the others at the table. Finally one name came to my head and I couldn't help but blurt it out.
"The Reverend Al Sharpton," I declared.
The whole table fell silent.
"Good answer," Corey said.
Elli and Andrea laughed. We discussed the finer points of kicking the crap out of the infamous pastor, but we all agreed he's such a master of extortion that I may have a crappy life afterwards. Still if the fight did commence and after I won I'd wear that fact proudly like a badge. I wonder if they have bumper stickers for that. "I kicked the crap out of the Reverend Al Sharpton and all I got was a bunch of protesters."
Who would you fight?
So for Thursday music I bring you a song mixed from Fight Club.
"If you play the theatrics too much, you get in the way of your own cause." - Al Sharpton
"No sir," said Ricky from the shop. "Your transmission is burnt."
"Ok," I replied. "How much will it be to fix it?"
I almost dropped the phone to let out a blood curdling roar. The cost of repairs is the same as the car's blue book value.
"Do you want a night to sleep on it?" he asked sensing that my head was spinning.
"Yeah," I answered. "I'll get back to you on this."
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."
"No worries."
I hung up the phone slowly. I guess I won't be buying my motorcycle this summer after all. They say the two things destined to keep you broke are a car and a girlfriend. I guess I can be mildly grateful I have only one money pit.
"Yes, it's refined inside, build quality above average & overall car is fun to drive. But reliability is worst I've experienced. My 4th car. 1. 3 separate power window probs that left me with window sunk in door. Fun in winter. NOT 2. 2 separate seat probs. 1st was when the seat actually moved beneath me with each turn. 2nd occurred when lever to raise/lower broke 3. Ignition Coils *UGH* 4. 4 separate coolant probs. 1 prob left me stranded on road (2 year old car at the time) 5. 1 dashboard lighting prob, many MIL engine light probs 6. Car *almost* failed start in 50 deg. weather. VW found no prob. Inexplicable. Just waiting for more... I'll never buy VW again..." - Review of the 02 VWGTI.
Political discourse in Russia has reached a terrifying level. Not content with poisoning journalists or jailing the opposition it seems Putin and his supporters have a new tactic of shutting down it's critics. They're now unleashing flying genitalia.
I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.
Russian chess master Garry Kasparov has led the Other Russian movement, a collection of activists opposed to Putin's regime. Speaking at a conference his words were interrupted when a small helicopter penis came flying around the assembly. Kasparov seemed to take it in good humour though after an associate batted down the flying phallus.
Okay I know this is completely juvenile, but I find it really funny. I hope that someone drops a load of these (Zing!) at our parties' national conventions.
Okay after that's enough talk about penis. I need some Ann Hathaway now.
"I think we have to be thankful for the opposition's demonstration of the level of discourse we need to anticipate. Also, apparently most of their arguments are located beneath the belt." - Garry Kasparov
Crime dramas were huge in the 90s after the success of 'Pulp Fiction'. Quality ranged from stellar to downright awful, but studios kept churning out films that fit the genre probably due to the lack of budget required to make such pictures. The public ate them up for the most part as they were all too excited about viewing the next big film and some of the movies didn't disappoint.
'A Simple Plan' is an example of one of those small films that came out during the end of that era. Bill Paxton plays Hank, an educated man with good values who, with his simpleton brother and the town drunk, stumble upon 4 million in cash in a snow covered plane wreck. Hank argues with his brother and friend that they shouldn't keep the money making the argument that this is thievery. He finds himself losing the debate and curtails his morals for the lure of being a millionaire, something that seems out of reach in his small existence.
The three of them agree to hide the money and wait till spring. After the investigation is over they'll split the money and live the good life. Of course tensions mount as parties get greedy and Hank's wife acts with a cunning not usually associated with women in crime films. Lies are told, murders are committed, and Hank's once firm stance of leaving the money alone falls by the wayside as his values change for the worse.
This is hardly an unfamiliar story, but it's a compelling one mostly due to the acting of Billy Bob Thorton. The rest of the cast is reliable, the music is dark and well done, and the dialogue is spot on. While there are a few editing flaws and some leaps of logic are made I would recommend this film for anyone nostalgic for the time when crime ruled the silver screen.
Thanks to SareBeth for submitting this. Wanna see a film reviewed by Wiwille? Drop me an email or comment and you'll see it soon on Erik's Ramblings. Rules are posted here.
"A pre-Spiderman Sam Raimi delivers a stunningly powerful film about the consequences of greed." - Bill Clark
Yesterday I got together with the other owners in my fantasy football league at a bar. We voted on rules and regulations for the upcoming season and lotteried the draft order. It was a beautiful day and I was excited about another football season.
Little did I know what drama would ensue.
I was standing outside the bar soaking in the sunshine as I saw a large truck start to pull out it's parking spot. A car whizzed up and tried to get around him honking his horn. The guy in the truck halted and the car pulled around him. The guy in the car yelled something incomprehensible and the trucker decided to respond with a one finger salute.
As one might expect the guy in the car didn't take too kindly to be flipped off and jumped out of his car. He was dressed in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Tall and scruffy he looked to be about 150 lbs if that. He ran up to the guy in the truck and started yelling.
To the trucker's credit he seemed to actually take it in good humour being calm and collected, but looked confident that if it came to fisticuffs he would win. He stayed in his vehicle as words were exchanged, but then the skinny guy started a little hand slapping contest. Still the trucker guy refused to get out of his vehicle and started laughing at that guy.
Skinny car boy got frustrated and made his way back into his car and drove off with his family. I then noticed another spectator standing there and looked at the trucker guy. He pulled a small caliber revolver out of his pocket and waved it to his buddy with a look that said "I have your back". Trucker man smiled and nodded as he made his way out of the parking lot.
I stood there in complete shock. This skinny guy with a bad temper had no idea how close he was to being shot in front of his family. Sure I've had a few moments where I got into small exchanges with other drivers, but this was fucking ridiculous. This coward of a man felt compelled to draw a gun instead of fighting honorably for his friend and over what? All because of a simple honk of the horn and a finger meant a man's life could've ended, in front of his family no less.
What lesson did skinny boy teach his son? His child was sitting in the back of the vehicle watching his father act like a complete jackass. I weep for the child as I predict how his upbringing may lead him.
I'm glad I witnessed that, because everyone should be reminded that while there are things worth fighting and even dying for, there are far more reasons just to calmly leave the situation and go on breathing.
I'm sure my international readers are shaking their heads thinking 'fucking Americans'.
"If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children." - Mohandas Gandhi
A while back I used to contribute to another blog called Billy Ocean Student Council Treasurer along with four other writers. Sadly the blog's life span was short as it's creator stopped contributing to the site and the rest followed suit. My posts weren't all that good anyways as my focus was still on Erik's Ramblings, but still I miss the five of us playing off each other creating what I thought was a good mix of thoughts.
I had a weekly contribution to the blog and that was Tuesday Music. Every Tuesday I would post a video of a song for readers to listen to. The genres varied as well as the quality of music, but I enjoyed it and readers seemed to get a kick out of it.
I've decided to take my idea and put it in Erik's Ramblings, but the only difference being that it will be on Thursdays instead of Tuesdays. Actually there will probably be more of a written description of the song, band, and/or why I thought of posting it. So back by no demand what so ever I'll share some music with the blogsphere, cause I'm a giver.
Let's get started now shall we?
Most music lovers have a certain song they listen to when they exit a relationship. Back in my younger years many broken hearted folk of my generation were listening to that damn song from that miserable Robin Hood movie or playing that Whitney Houston ballad over and over again. I was playing Metallica's'Fade to Black' whenever heartache arose. Yeah I was kind of weird.
Lately though I've been listening to a song I loved as a child. It's from one of my favorite films and it's helped heal some recent wounds. I'll stop giving up too much information now and instead let you enjoy the song.
"The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind." - Humphrey Bogart
Hillary won a resounding victory in West Virginia which should come as no surprise to anyone following these primaries. Obama seems to be less bulletproof then people may think him to be. Still the overwhelming love for this eloquent man as the savior in these dark times is appealing to me, but I can't seem to gain the enthusiasm for him as others do.
Obama may seem like someone who's not in the pocket of special interests, but seriously it costs more for him to campaign for a month then he'll ever make if he were to win the presidency. I watch in awe of the folk who show such affection and hope for a candidate and sometimes I wish I were them. Even with the great possibility that I'll be let down I still wonder why I'm not passionate about any of the candidates. Maybe it's my age or the fact that I can be a cynic, but my heart still stays cold when I hear the phrase "yes we can". It's kind of sad really that I can't sit here and laugh at every joke John Stewart makes no matter how stale they may be.
Then again I'm really glad I'm not these fine representatives of the West Virginia electorate:
"You know, my faith is one that admits some doubt." - BarackObama
I was checking out my site meter the other day taking a look at how people come across this blog. I'm amazed at what search terms bring up Erik's Ramblings. Listed below are a few examples of how people stumble across my mildly literate posts.
1. Mother daughter sex team/espresso: This leads to a post I wrote about regarding a local coffee stand.
2. Naked shaving: I'm not sure what people expect to find when they type this into their search engine, but often they hit my post about naked shavers in the gym. One of my favorites search terms for this is "i want to see you shave and naked".
3. Sexymonica: I received some Myspace spam a while back and poked fun at the lengthy message included. To date it's one of my favorite posts. I don't think people using this as a search term had this post in mind.
4. Scarlett Johannson/boobs: Was there any doubt?
5. Joy Luck Club: It seems there's a lot of people in Asia who like to read about this film.
6. He took the midnight train going anywhere/Just a small town boy, born and raised in south Detroit: This leads to a couple of posts, one written about my buddy Corey falling victim to thievery and another about a New Years celebration.
8. Dr Phil sucks: I'm very happy to know I'm not the only one that feels this way about the pathetic Texan "doctor".
9. Judi Bowker naked: I sometimes want to see the look of disappointment when someone wants to see some Clash of the Titans nudity and instead comes across this post.
I should write a weekly update of these search terms as there are many more, but these seem to be the most popular. For reasons I won't even begin to speculate on a lot of these folk seem to be from Germany. Draw your own conclusions.
"Germany has reduced savagery to a science, and this great war for the victorious peace of justice must go on until the German cancer is cut clean out of the world body." - Theodore Roosevelt
Mother's Day was a success thankfully, but not without it's battle scars. Dear old ma asked for one thing for her present and that was for Perry Mason on DVD. I went to pick up a copy and found a couple of seasons worth of episodes released, plus some fiftieth anniversary collection. I decided to buy it all while it's still available.
When I showed them to her she was estactic. When I was a kid they would show Perry Mason reruns and everything going on in the house would cease so she could watch her favorite fictional lawyer make someone cry on the stand.
She opened the DVDs and started watching an episode, then another, then another. Dad and I couldn't pull her away from the television.
Sunday morning I take them both out to breakfast at their favorite greekrestaurant. They go there so much the staff brings out their coffee with all the fixings before my folks have a chance to ask. We got great service and the eggs benedict was excellent.
After breakfast it was my Mom's time to decide to do what she wanted. She was indecisive, so I asked her if she wanted to go shopping.
I think Dad wanted to punch me.
She said yes of course and we followed her through the mall as she browsed. I even bought some stuff for myself. The shoe shopping was harrowing though as it seems more like armed combat. I sat in a chair while ladies were trying on footwear in a frantic fashion. Every now and then a guy would walk by and give eye contact and a head nod. We both knew each other's pain, but we dare not say anything for fear of angering the shoe shoppers. I believe there's nothing more dangerous than a group of females at a shoe sale.
Finally we got home and as you might have guessed we watched more Perry Mason.
Still she had a good time and I'm glad. It was a good day for her and she deserves it for putting up with my Dad, my sister, and I.
"Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children." - William Makepeace Thackeray
She was referring to my excitement at the prospects of getting a motorcycle, but she's familiar with the medical industry, particularly the paramedics, and decided to let me in on their nicknames for those who prefer two wheeled transportation.
This weekend I took a bold step in my long goal of actually owning and operating a motorcycle. I signed up for a motorcycle safety course on July 3rd and if I pass I get my endorsement. Assuming I complete the course without incident I plan on becoming another candidate for road splatter.
Why you ask? With the current gas prices I believe consuming less fuel will not only benefit my pocket book in the long run, but the enviornment as well. Plus it may be fun.
Listed below are but a few bikes I'm currently looking at: This is the Honda Shadow Aero 08. I sat on one last week and it felt good. Got the options and engine size I'm looking for, cause I'm not looking to go 1600 cc or higher. Plus it's big enough to take it on weekend rides. Affordable too and good gas mileage. I'm not sure if that's the color I want, but we'll see.
Here we have the Kawasaki Vulcan 900. It's about the size I'm looking for and feels comfortable when sitting on it, but that can be a different story when I actually take it out for a test ride.
This is my dream bike, the Harley Fatboy. Given the size and expense I doubt I'll pick this as a first bike. I'm going to wreck at some point and I'd hate to dump something that's worth more than my car. Still there's a part of me that says to hell with it and just buy what I want.
I know I've written about buy a motorcycle numerous times, but this time if all goes well I won't bore the blogsphere with my goal anymore. If you suddenly see me stop posting though without warning, please wish me a peaceful rest in the afterlife.
"My dreams for the future are simple: work, a happy, healthy family, a lovely long motorcycle ride, and continuing the struggle to awaken people to the need for serious human rights reform." - Mike Farrell
The Tuesday primaries are over thankfully and it's clear that Hillary's stubborn refusal to drop out even though it's mathematically impossible for her to win is the result of a) she knows something we don't or b) she's gone completelybatshit. I guess she cares less about having the nominee spend their time setting up a strategy for the general election. It's sad that Hillary can't put the needs of the party above her quest for power. If she could stop drinking the blood of children and realize public service is more important then her needs then....oh who am I kidding. She's a Presidential candidate so her and the rest of her ilk would stomp on puppies skulls if it meant a seat in the Oval Office.
If the Super delegates happen to abandon the will of the people and decide Hillary will be the nominee I predict an easy win for McCain in the general election. That's because I'm all savvy like about politics all the while making supermodels melt at that thought of looking in my eyes.
In other news I wrote about the douchebaggery that is John Fitzgerald Page a while back and his upcoming appearance on Dr Phil. I found the video on Gawker and immediately sent it to numerous female friends explaining that if they ever date someone like him that I would beat both of them senseless. All agreed that they wouldn't so thankfully violence will not ensue.
After watching the video I haven't decided who is the bigger jackass, him or Dr Phil. Actually the worst people of all is the women who sleep with them.
In keeping with the theme of this utterly random and useless post I just realized the other day that the nurse on Scrubs, who's smoking hot btw, was the other Becky on Roseanne. I'm not sure why I know that or why you would care, but I just thought I'd share.
I think I've had way too much coffee this morning.
"We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States." - Obama
Dreams. They're what happiness are made of. They bring us hope, joy, and sometimes the drive to have a better life. They're what drive us to be better lovers, friends, family members, and employees (especially those that don't waste time blogging at work).
So my day winds down at work and I look forward to calling this a pleasant Monday. Work was slow, conversation was good, and overall it was a good day...didn't even have to use my A-K....word....
Sorry got a little carried away there.
Anyways I get an IM from a coworker. Then another from a friend, then another, then another, and a few emails pour in all in the time span of about fifteen minutes. Each and every message contained a link to a news article that would shatter my very existence. A story that has crushed my soul and is making me rethink that simply getting out of bed, or even breathing, is worth the effort.
Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson are now engaged. Yes the woman that was to be my angel, to make me believe in love again, has now committed herself to walking down the aisle with the co-star of Blade part 3 (cause enough wasn't said in the first two). Granted the guy is far better looking, wealthier, funnier...err...damn I can't blame her really.
Still this news is sad as I can no longer hold on to that glimmer of hope that maybe one day she'll be mine, cause you know I had a chance. So dear readers the content of Erik's Ramblings will shift away from mildly obsessive posts about my favorite curvy debutant, but my heart will always hold a candle to my once muse.
"Are you stalking me? Because that would be super." - Ryan Reynolds
So often we look at our own society as corrupt and maybe even evil. Old folks are often sipping their Ensure muttering about it's no wonder the terrorists want to kill us. Blame is thrown everywhere at our flaws usually directed at our president, but never to our own consumptions and apathy.
City of God takes place on the outskirts of Rio deJaniero, a tenement that makes a US ghetto seem like paradise. Two inhabitants capture the heart of the story, Lil Dice and Rocket. Lil Dice is small even for his age, but his lack of conscious and exposure to brutality set the path to a career criminal who's little more than a sociopath. Rocket is a simple boy who just wants to survive and try and live as normal a life as possible.
The movie then jumps a few years and we find Lil Dice, now called Lil Ze, is in control of a drug empire killing all of the competition with reckless abandon. Lil Ze hold no remorse for his acts of depravity and seems to get off on destroying the lives of those he finds smaller than him.
Rocket is still getting by enjoying the simple pleasures of life. He enjoys his new found hobby of taking photos. Rocket finds a girl who captures his interest and he captures her on film constantly. The girl; however is dating Lil Ze's brother, but still loves the attention Rocket gives her.
Peace in the City of God is fragile at best as Lil Ze controls most of the drug running. Rivals do appear from his own ranks and tensions mount. In an area riddled with guns, drugs, and a lifestyle that doesn't value humanity the fuse gets lit close to the powder keg and it's only a matter of time before it explodes.
City of God is an amazing film and few have captivated me as much as this one. The photography is kinetic and their use of color sits well with the dark themes. You will be amazed by the talent in these young actors and the script treats it's subject with a respect that never belittles them regardless of their actions. This film takes us places we will never go nor wish to. It's that slice of life that intrigues me about this story, one that makes you question whether evil is inherit or learned. It's not only one of the best foreign films I've ever seen, it's one of the best movies I've seen period. You should go rent this right now.
Thanks to Invisible G for submitting this. Wanna see a film reviewed by Wiwille? Drop me an email or comment and you'll see it soon on Erik's Ramblings. Rules are posted here.
"Meirelles has crafted a distinctive motion picture -- one takes us into the streets with an unsurpassed intensity and immediacy." - James Berardinelli
Longtime readers know full well my almost unhealthy obsession with a certain starlet. Yes I know I post about her a lot, enough so that I'm surprised I haven't been slapped with a restraining order. Still all the posts I've written about her have been flattering, but then again when I go back and read them I imagine you all think I'm some ugly freak who lives in his parents' basement and masturbates while he cries.
Well the flattery ends here as I heard the first track from Scarlett's new album 'Anywhere I Lay My Head', a collection of Tom Waits cover tunes. While I understand what she's trying to do here, it doesn't make the song less painful. I know Waits is not known for his vocals and really if you're looking for great singing modern music is not the source for it, but man this is terrible. As bad as it is though I probably should go buy it. I mean she's going to be my wife one day so it's only polite.
"One of the best things for a woman to hear is that she is sexy." - Scarlett Johansson
This is the 
Here we have the Kawasaki Vulcan 900. It's about the size I'm looking for and feels comfortable when sitting on it, but that can be a different story when I actually take it out for a test ride.
