For a second I believed.

I do follow politics closely and while some find this as an attempt at feeling intellectually arrogant I can assure them that's not the case. In fact my following of the presidential elections is a complete waste of time. Considering I live in a state where the electorate will always go Democrat my vote doesn't matter unless I get a frontal lobotomy and believe in starting a Republican revolution in Washington.

Watching the federal races for me honestly is akin to someone watching reality television (Miss Ash), or reading pulp romance novels, or even watching WWE. The drama associated with each race fascinates me, probably due to the cynic in me that can't find themselves throwing their weight behind a particular party or candidate.

Last night the unthinkable happened. After watching what I felt was a lackluster convention I saw Obama the nominee take the stage before a huge audience. His demeanor and the text of the speech was amazing. I was wowed by his intellect, his mannerisms, his ability to breathe hope into the air.

It was happening. I was believing it. This orator was giving me something I haven't felt in years, or ever in fact. I was suddenly on the Obama wagon. It was intoxicating to actually feel that he was good, that a man in his position cared about us, and that there was hope in something. Yes I started to feel that 'Yes We Can' was more than a slogan to chant mindlessly. I was giddy.

The speech ended with a rousing applause from the crowd. A packed house was on their feet cheering their savior. Bad music blared through the speakers as the party's chosen hero smiled and waved. The electricity swarmed through the arena quicker than herpes at Burning Man. It was exciting and I found myself buying into the rhetoric.

A friend IM'd me asking me about the speech. He explained how he had tears in his eyes he was so moved. While I wasn't anywhere near crying I was in disbelief more than anything at how Obama seemed to manipulate me at that moment. I always thought that putting your faith in a Presidential candidate is akin to believing the stripper is really into you, but for a few minutes last night I drank the kool aide.

Then I woke up this morning, hungover from being drunk with hope. The cynic in me returned thinking I may have loved the speech only because of the disappointment I felt with the rest of the convention and/or my disgust with the current administration. Maybe it was because Obama is a professional orator, that he excels at his job, and he happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Still the reality of our politics reared it's head this morning and I reminded myself as to why I became weary of candidates in the first place. That being said I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling that came over me last night.

"Americans still believe in an America where anything's possible. They just don't think their leaders do." - Barack Obama

Thursday music

Weddings. Such a romantic time where couple unite under matrimony, holy or otherwise. My generation seems to have grown cynical about the whole institution, but as most cynics they can't deny the romanticism of the ideal nor their underlying hope that love does in fact exist.

As many of you know I've been to over a couple hundred weddings, either as a photographer, spectator, or participant in the wedding party. When I'm not working a wedding and alcohol is served many embarrassing moments ensue such as a poor attempt at dancing, struggling to make eye contact with brides maids, stumbling into places I shouldn't go, singing dirty songs in front of the entire congregation, etc.

I was a groomsmen at Quoc and Sams' wedding years back and drinking took place amongst us well before the ceremony even started. By the time the reception was underway I was feeling no pain whatsoever. I probably would've fought Randy Couture I was so out of it. My dear friend Andrew decided that this was the perfect opportunity to request a song near and dear to our hearts and that being 'The Hustle'.

The music started and Andrew and I got onto the dance floor to boogie down. Quoc soon joined us and I found the floor clear of any wedding guests. Ye gods they're all staring. WTF? No one wants to get down to Van McCoy but us. We're all alone. Should I leave? Do I really want to make an ass of myself in front of all these people?

Apparently I do. The music started to kick in and I did my best rendition of the song as I knew how. Everyone stared with awe as I must've looked like a complete jack ass, but I was so intoxicated I would've done it even if I had a fresh bullet lodged in me.

Laughter ensued, mostly at us, but it was fun and I didn't get punched by anyone. Any day where no one strikes me is a good day indeed.

Amazingly enough the bride still speaks to me.

So today dear readers I bring you the proper way of doing 'The Hustle', which was in no way done correctly by your author that evening.

"Contrary to popular opinion, the hustle is not a new dance step - it is an old business procedure." - Fran Lebowitz

Wiwille watches the DNC, is a dork, needs to drink more

Last night I was watching the Democratic National Convention on MSNBC. While this is not interesting in and of itself the conversations that took place during my viewing were at times humorous, surreal, and insulting. My laptop was open and cell phone was on during my time watching the Democrats get geared up for today's roll call.

Listed below are snippets of some of the conversations that took place via IM, text messaging, and phone. Names have been removed to protect the offending parties:

Her: What are you doing?
Me: Watching the DNC.
Her: ......you're a dork....

Her: What are you doing?
Me: Watching the DNC.
Her: What?
Me: The Democratic National Convention.
Her: Gross.

Her: What are you doing?
Me: Watching the DNC. Yes I know I'm a dork.
Her: It's okay. I like dork.

Him: Warner's daughters are hot.

Me: Did you like her speech?
Him: I did. I really thought it was perfect. How about you?
Me: It fit the mood. She did well.

Him: I stand by my statement that if I could fight anyone on the planet....it would be Pat Buchanan.

Me: It's amazing that Hillary didn't produce a speech like this all through the primaries.
Him: I hate her...so much...so much...really I could punch her in the teeth.
Me: Are you drunk?
Him: .....maybe.

Me: I think she (the anchorwoman) is hot.
Him: Really?
Me: Yes. Female talking heads do it for me. I like smart women who are interested in politics.
Him: You're gay.

Him: Sisterhood of the traveling pants suits? WTF?
Me: Yeah. Only amongst the most excited fans would people find that funny. Better than the Gandhi joke she told a few years back. I mean hell that was border line racist.
Him: Gandhi joke?
Me: Funny how people forget about that.

Her: So why do you watch this?
Me: I'm interested to learn what direction the party will be going from now until November. I mean it's obvious what they're going to do, but still I enjoy this.
Her: ....seriously?
Me: Yes.
Her: You need to get laid.
Me: Yes, yes I most certainly do.

Good times.

"You haven't worked so hard over the last 18 months, or endured the last eight years, to suffer through more failed leadership," - Hillary Clinton

Wiwille's movie reviews part 57

Much to the dismay of many a movie watcher that I know I'm not a fan of horror. While The Thing is more sci-fi than horror it still maintains many of the characteristics of your average scare flick; however this film rises above the horrid cliches associated with that genre.

Set in the artic, 'The Thing' stars Kurt Russel as a raging alcoholic helicopter pilot servicing an American scientific base. The movie starts off with a Norwegian attempting to shoot up a wolf from a helicopter for reasons unbeknownst to the audience.

Chasing the wolf to the American research base the foreigner has difficulty communicating his angst towards the animal, but instead elects to make his intentions known by shooting up the place in his further attempts to put down the beast. The commander takes him down and they place the wolf into custody.

Of course there's something mysterious about the animal as it morphs into some alien creature that preys upon living organisms, often replicating it's host in gruesome manners. The staff of the base soon end up fighting the creature, but often finding themselves falling victim to it. The alien sets itself up to attach to the humans, with results you would expect, and the base's occupants end up fighting each other as everyone is suspect of carrying the foreign entity.

Again I'm not one to seek out and watch a horror/sci-fi flick, but this one is an enjoyable film that has a great mood, score, and story. The acting is far and above better than what you would expect from some of the cast, even though the dialogue is weak, and the suspense is masterfully done. The special effects are amazing and still hold up today which is quite a feat considering everything is CGI nowadays. The tension is largely a result of the isolated setting, but the script does a great job of giving the film a sense of urgency beyond it's location. While this story has been done before, and some would argue better, I highly recommend this film. My father is a huge fan of the original The Thing (aka The Thing from Another World) and this is a rare remake that maintains the quality rather than bastardize it.

This is the third movie I've reviewed for readers starring Kurt Russel, not including a Bad Movie I Love. I think it's a conspiracy. Next up someone will submit something like Overboard or Escape From LA.

Thanks to Alec for submitting this for review. 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.

"John Carpenter equaled the unrelenting suspense of Halloween with this nerve-racking remake. Carpenter's The Thing is one of the all-time great horror films." - Chuck O'Leary

Danielson, always look eye

"Don't take a picture," she said. "You're making it obvious."

"Oh I have to," I replied. "Cause this is so going on my blog."

I'm getting ahead of myself here.

The weekend was indeed a long one as I headed up north to attend Kelly and Anthony's wedding. As she's from the islands it was a Hawaiian themed ceremony complete with Polynesian food and hula dancing. Lots of beer was consumed by your author and fun was had. I've never seen my friend Kelly look more happy or beautiful. Congratulations to them both.

Kevin should've been there as he adored Kelly. God I still miss him.

After the wedding I made my way over to Quoc's for a visit. He was alone with his kid Maddi as his wife was having a girl's day out. I used to scare the every loving hell out of Maddi as she would look at me and scream any time I got near her. Sort of like every other woman in my life. She's outgrown that now and can actually tolerate me. It's probably cause I buy her gifts.

She had a little drum similar to the one in Karate Kid part II. Her three year old self took the drum and started playing with it. I showed her the proper method of doing it and reminding her to know the ways of Mr Miyagi. I told her to say 'respect the ways of the Miyagi'.

"Wespect ways of Mee-ahh-gee," Maddi replied. Not bad for a three year old. She's learning. Next time I'll teach her how to crane kick.

Saturday was Mom's birthday. I took her out to eat and of course shopping ensued. She had a great time with Dad and I in tow. Afterwards we played 'Cash Cab' the board game. I read a question to my father which consisted of "Famous folk singer Robert Zimmerman used this stage name coined after a Welsh poet?"

My Dad was never into folk and even though he's part of the generation that should know this his knowledge of pop culture is weak. Tom Jones was his answer.

Mom and I laughed. I started to remind Dad that the cheeseball that sang "She's a Lady" is not considered folk. He didn't even know who Dylan Thomas was. My family is very cultured.

That night I met up with some friends at the Royal. God help me I hate that place, but it's where everyone wanted to go. We enter the meat market and head upstairs for some drinks. The bartender was a chipper one as I ordered two drinks. I noticed up front that he gave my drink very little alcohol, but loaded the girl's drink with spirits. I guess that's what I get for not having cleavage.

After hanging in the place meeting new people and drinking more it was time to leave. As we stepped out of the Royal everyone noticed an interesting chap dressed in short jean shorts, a white shirt draped by a Hawaiian one, and a gold chained cross swinging from the neck. He was stumbling about in his Birkenstocks and saying hi to everyone. The crowd outside was large, but all kept an eye on him.

This is a Kodak moment. Cell phones were out and many were taking pictures of the drunken gent. The crowd around were bonding talking about the hilarity of the guy. I whip out my phone and started snapping away thinking this will look great on Erik's Ramblings.

Unfortunately the picture didn't turn out all that well. Still you get the idea. I promise next time I'll do better.

Note the size of the shorts, the strange shirt, and the weird wristband. The rest you'll need to use your imagination.

The next day I leave to go home and went to get some petrol. I tried to use my debit card, but it wouldn't accept the pin number. After multiple tries I look at the card. What? I'm not Erik Frank. Ye Gods the idiot bartender gave me the wrong card. I think he was too busy looking at the boobs of the girl I was with to pay much attention.

My friend called the bar for me, but she got a message stating they were only open from Tues-Sat. I called my bank and cancelled my card, but made the trip in time for the Fantasy Football Draft, one of the best moments of the year. More beer was consumed as we picked out our players and gave each other all sorts of hell. Jesse provided much of the comedy and good times were had. I'm so excited that the season is about to start.

I'm tired.

"You may have heard that back in the States there are some people who are smoking grass. I don't know how you feel, but it's sure easier than cutting the stuff." - Pat Morita

Thursday music

Hearts will be breaking all over tomorrow as my dear friend Kelly will tie the knot with her fiance. Her and I met working at a casino years ago. Having way too much time on our hands we were creative in passing the night away such as playing games, shooting each other with rubber bands, talking about everything and anything, and basically acting in all sorts of immature manner, but good times were had. I miss those slow evenings still.

For kicks one night her and I went to a strip club. It was her first time in one so we sat down and sipped sodas as we watched naked ladies dance. One of the 'dancers' caught my eye, but as she approached our table she walked right by me and introduced herself to Kelly. After some conversation the girl, who is quite possibly the hottest stripper I've ever seen, shook my hand and asked if I was looking forward to seeing her on stage soon.

Like I was going to say 'no'.

The dancer then excused herself to the stage and Rage Against the Machine started playing. 'Wow,' I thought. I mean after listening to mostly bad hip hop this girl had the DJ spin this? The lights went lower and the strobe lights started flashing on her as she performed the most impressive moves I've ever laid witness to. I mean this girl actually took interest in her craft. It was good to see someone take so much pride in their work.

After the girl's set she came back to our table. Conversation was actually pleasant and I was amazed that she didn't seem under the influence. As luck would have it she asked Kelly if she wanted a lap dance, ignoring the fact that I was even there. I can't complain though. The lap dance that did ensue was quite possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen.

It was a good night.

So today dear readers I bring you the song the exotic dancer deemed appropriate for her quest to make money off horny people. It worked:



"I'm in this band to give volume to various struggles throughout the world. To me, the tension in this band is a minimal sacrifice." - Zack de la Rocha

Wiwille's movie reviews part 56

Kurt Russel sure has come a long way since 'The Computer who Wore Tennis Shoes'. While most think of him with scorn there are a few films he's done that I enjoy and he's never really done a terrible performance, at least none that I've seen. Sure he may not be Hopkins, but he's normally reliable.

'Soldier' is the story of Todd, a sergent who from birth was raised by the military of a totalitarian government strictly to become the perfect fighter. We are introduced to a montage sequence of his training and action in the field while we watch his superiors ensure he has no sense of humanity. Killing with extreme efficiency Todd displays great skill by walking really slow and shooting everything he sees.

Todd's line of soldiers are suddenly veterans and find themselves in competition with a new line of combatants. Faster, stronger, and more deadly, one rookie soldier kicks the crap out of Todd and a couple of others in a demonstration. Todd is then discarded onto a planet full of garbage left to die.

The mostly mute soldier befriends a community of people living amongst the refuse. Attempting to integrate him into their small society the folk try and look past Todd's stern and aloof social norms. Still he slowly starts to learn how it is to feel, how to think independently, etc.

The new soldiers' commander decides to give another demonstration of their ability by landing them on the garbage planet, cause there wasn't enough space for a battle anywhere else apparently. Of course the soldiers run into the community and start wreaking havoc and it's up to Todd to save the day. Will Todd prevail against the new and improved instruments of war? Can a glimpse of compassion be the key to being the ultimate weapon? Could Garey Busey be more awesome? Do you even give a good shit?

Man this is one piece of horse poopie of a film. Kurt Russel has an easy job playing Todd, who has something like 14 lines in the entire script. The action is okay and the set pieces are what you expect from geography filled with trash. There's really nothing inventive here especially the horrible dialogue. This is a simple sci-fi action film that feels like a paint-by-the-numbers copy of The Last Supper. Sure the concept is familiar and safe, but the viewing is far from satisfying. Seriously this film is really dull. Only if recommending this film would save a loved one from death would I give this a thumbs up. Thankfully that'll never happen.

And to think I did sit through this with an ex-girlfriend years ago who loved it. She was a huge fan of action films and really liked this. I thought I'd never have to watch 'Soldier' again. The sacrifices I make for my readers.

Thanks to the anonymous commenter who submitted this film for review. I think it was actually someone who knows and hates me. Thank you again.

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.

"Has there ever been a more insipid sci-fi action film than Soldier? Probably, although it's hard to imagine." - Kevin Maynard

Wiwille needs a new profession

Beer. Behold it's glory and be glad. It's done great things for me. Not only does it bring good nutritional value, but I've enjoyed my time consuming beer. Tasting it's frothy goodness always brings a smile to my face. Some members of the opposite sex even find me moderately attractive when they've gulped down a couple, or seventeen, beers.

Yes I do like myself some beer.

Now those that know me understand that I can be a bit of a beer snob so much that it annoys others. I will turn down free beer if it's any of that mass marketed crap from Anhueser-Busch, Miller, Coors, Kokanee, or any of that other crap Midwesterners love. I'm a fan of the micro-brews, the stouts, porters, etc. I get many a nasty look when someone hands me a friggin Coors Light and I decline choosing to drink down some water instead, which is basically the same thing, only tastier.

Thing is I actually like the taste of beer, which most people I know don't. If it didn't get them drunk they would have nothing to do with it. Understandable I guess.

People often ask me why I haven't made a career out of beer, which is a valid question indeed. I used to brew beer with a friend of mine and we had plans to sell our beer, but after dating a friend of his that ended horribly the friendship fell apart and the brewing ceased. Sad really.

I was reading an article about UK's only female beer critic. She apparently consumes over six thousand pints a year judging the flavor of each. I need that job, or I need to marry her. Seriously where do I sign up?

This is the greatest beer commercial ever. Every guy should relate to this and lately I've been in this position a lot:



Britain's only girl beer boffin

"Tasting beer is what I was born to do." - Annabel Smith

Poor poor ladies

My fantasy football draft will be upon us this Sunday and I can't be more excited. The taste of beer, bad food, and grown men arguing and telling stupid jokes are just a small part of the glory that is creating your own team in anticipation of dominating the year. Of course not all seasons work out the way you want, but it's still a lot of fun to converse with friends about a subject we all enjoy.

Of course there are those significant others who don't take too kindly to the idea of fantasy football and the amount of time spent by their loved ones attempting to win the season. My friend and commissioner of our league Paul often describes his gal's frustration at the time he spends with his hobby. Of course he does everything possible to make up for the hours he's sitting in front of a computer reading everything NFL, but as with many men with a hobby (read: obsession) Paul's a good man and knows when to cut back his time and focus more on the people that love him.

Well it appears that some women do get scorned by their man playing fantasy football way to much. Some lady was fed up with her husband's time spent with fantasy playing and created a website to show her distaste for his behavior and give a forum for others to vent their frustrations. Oh and they sell t-shirts, cause relationship issues can best be solved by purchasing online apparel.

I guess it's better to broadcast your marital problems online then seek counseling. I'm not married so what do I know? Seriously though if your man is neglecting your family while reading over football stats then it's definitely time to re-evaluate the relationship. Or provide more nudity.

I do like football, but I like boobs more. If both can be combined I'm a happy man.

"Also be sure to check out our apparel; you can proudly let the world know that you are taking a stance against fantasy sports!" - WAFS

Women Against Fantasy Sports (WAFS)

Scaredy cat

I was tagged by the lovely Jlee. As the result of said tagging I must write about five things that used to freak me out as a child. Here goes.

1. The Banshee from Darby O'Gill and the Little People: I used to love this movie. I mean it had everything. Playing upon the stereotype that the Irish are a bunch of filthy drunks this Disney film included the legend of the leprechauns in a cute family fashion. The movie even stars a pre-Bond Sean Connery and he actually sings after he whoops some Irish ass. Brilliant storytelling.

For whatever reason the screenwriters decided that the movie must take a dark turn and introduced us to the banshee. I'm not sure if it was the image of the howling ghoul or the sound it made, but many a nightmare was due to that devilish ghost.



2. Spiders. Daddy Long Legs specifically. Damn I hated those creepy little things. Still do actually. I used to imagine they were outside my bedroom plotting my demise as I sleep. I had an over active imagination.

I used to have nightmares about spiders. Sometimes there would be half man, half spider people coming to attack me.

3. The mutants from Beneath the Planet of the Apes: Not only did it freak me out seeing a mass bastardized after a Catholic service, but to see a bunch of people take off their faces and reveal the effects of radiation really gave me the heebee jeebees. I remember asking my parents why the people on TV were worshipping a nuclear missile. They didn't answer.



4. My Grandma's dog: She had a little dog named Toby who unfortunately was abused by his previous owner. As a result the dog would love to attack my feet. I mean love it. I imagined the beast taking much glee in gnawing my lower appendages. As I got older I learned how to stop the miserable animal from biting me, but it took a while to get over it.

5. KISS: When I was very little I had old Uncle Scrooge comic books. In it they had ads for Kiss memorabilia, cause that band will whore for anything. Regardless the makeup and outfits they had on scared the piss out of me, especially when you consider my ultra-conservative folks decrying all rock music to be the devil's work. In their narrow minds Kiss was the worst. Still after all their bellyaching about how all our nation's youth would suddenly become Satan worshippers because of mass marketed corporate music they never warned me about how crappy their music was.



"Rock is about finding who you are. You don't necessarily have to play your instrument very well at all. You can just barely get by and you can be in a rock band." - Gene Simmons

Wiwille's movie reviews part 55

So often are we taken with everything modern we forget that there was a time before we were even sperm that good, entertaining art did exist. While culture changes drastically in such a short time span people are often frustrated to see or hear something that may seem dated. Understandable sometimes as humans tend flock to already familiar territory rather than risk something from a different time period or culture.

Keeping with the theme of submitting films I've never heard of the absent blogger Elizab submitted 'The Man in the White Suit', an older film based on a Roger MacDougall play. Alec Guinness is in the starring role playing an eccentric scientist working in the textile industry. His experiments are hushed from his colleagues as well as the audience, but after some time it's revealed his is creating an indestructible and no-stain fabric. After he makes plans to go public with his invention the corporate masters as well as the workforce makes any and all attempts to stop him.

This film, like many of that era, truly runs the gamut of genres as it's at times funny, sad, and at makes you think about the world you live in. This theme of a man trying to better the world with his product and how the dark side of capitalism tries to suppress it is an entertaining one and probably resonated more now than ever. The comedy is timed well; however dated the jokes may be. The acting is very good as you would expect from Guinness. Visually it's very impressive given it's old special effects. My only real complaint is the score, but it's not that bad. While at times this may seem preachy it has a great script and it's something I would highly recommend. This clever gem of a picture is really something all should see.

Thanks to Elizab 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.

"While on the surface it's a comic fable with a sense of humor as dry as a cracker, the movie possesses a sharp edge that rises like a shark fin above the natty British drollery." - Mark Bourne

Thursday music

Many Pink Floyd fans have debates amongst themselves regarding what era of the band's career was the best. Similar to the Van Halen and AC/DC arguments of what singer was the best, I've heard many a conversation get heated by two who can't agree which of the group's albums was the best, The Wall or Dark Side of the Moon. Then there are those who'll never accept anything done by them after Roger Waters left to pursue a solo career.

I find myself on the unpopular sides of these debates a lot. I think the Haggar years made the better Van Halen simply because Eddie was a far better guitar player in that era and they weren't doing a bunch of stupid cover tunes. So today I'll commit blasphemy in the eyes of many and say yes I do like the work of the drug fueled band after Water's departure. Deal with it.

So today good readers I bring you 'Learning to Fly'.



As probably none of you have noticed I did add a little music player to the sidebar. Granted the genres and quality are all over the board, but I hope you enjoy it. Unlike some bloggers (*cough* Pablog *cough*) I set it so it won't be blaring through your speakers/headphones as you bring up the site. Yes you will actually have to press play to listen. Imagine that concept.

"I confess I've never felt like a passenger." - Roger Waters

Mawwiage

I was reading an article the other day regarding a couple in Portland that held a Star Wars themed wedding. While this is nothing original what made it interesting is that all guests were required to dress in costume.

You know I like Star Wars as much as the next guy, well maybe even a little more so. I'm going to go see the new cartoon in the theatre with my equally kind-of-a-dork friend, who admits he's as much of a Lucas whore as I. Yeah we're not mature.

You really didn't need to know that did you?

All that being said I would never do something like this, but to each their own. I hope it was a good wedding and all attending had fun, including one hottie who dressed in a Princess Leia gold bikini. Of this I approve.

As a former wedding photographer I've seen many types of ceremonies. Mostly I've attend traditional celebrations, but there have been a few that may be deemed obscure. I've photographed a pagan, medieval, and even a druid wedding. Considering almost nothing is known about the druids I found the ceremony amusing, but everyone seemed to have a good time.

There's been a couple of women dumb enough to consider marrying me and they've asked me what kind of wedding I want. They were not amused by me simply answering that I want boobs and booze. Seriously though if I had a disposable income I'd get married someplace cool, like off the coast of Italy. I'd fly everyone out in style and the reception would be three days of drinking, dancing, go-kart racing, and hopefully would not involve the cops.

Then again weddings aren't about the groom, so whatever makes the bride happy would be fine with me. Then again if she wanted karaoke the wedding would be called off.

I don't know why I just wrote that considering I'm 33 and getting fatter, balder, and uglier. I doubt it's in the cards for me, but a bachelor's life has been indeed a good one. This way I do get my share of booze and boobs.

I like boobs. Oh you knew that?

"A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers." - Eddie Cantor

Star Wars couple married by Yoda

Whitey, 9/11, etc

To help appease voters who believed he might be taking orders from the Vatican, John F Kennedy explained that religion was not that important to him in his public service. Being the first Catholic presidential candidate the American public was wary of having a man who prays a rosary in the highest office in the land; therefore his campaign made sure everyone was aware that he wouldn't make consuming the literal body and blood of Christ as public policy.

It seemed to work as America elected the charming young senator to the Presidency; although it was a tight race. Nowadays no one can escape the massive hype surrounding one's religious past.

Yes of course I'm referring to the two who are seeking the Presidency. McCain of course cut ties with the fiery Texan televangelist John Hagee after hearing about his ridiculously simple minded comments about the Almighty's wrath and Katrina. Oh and he did mention something about a German dictator carrying out God's work to help establish finally the British Accord for the boundaries of Israel. Yeah that was bound to ruffle some feathers.

In what was so far the best speech I've seen in this campaign Obama finally decided to disassociate himself from the Reverend Jeremiah Wright. Wright made headlines for being a Youtube star where sound bytes were played of him cursing America, whitey, and various others from the pulpit. Of course this brought much scrutiny from people sensitive about faith and to make matters worse Obama has already been trying to convince voters that just because his father believes in the words of Muhammad that he wasn't going to suicide bomb the Oval Office.

The Reverend Wright didn't take the Obama leaving his church all that well and made his feelings about it known publicly. I guess he skipped they day they taught the sermon on the mount in preacher school. Taking his new found fame and attention whoring to a whole new level Jeremiah Wright has now written a book to be released in October and will spend the month promoting it.

Yes October, a month before the general election. In an age where everyone is all concerned about worshipping the 'correct' god you can imagine what the focus of that month's media coverage will be. I mean is foreign policy really all that important?

Stay classy Reverend Wright. Stay classy.

"We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is now brought right back to our own front yards. America's chickens are coming home to roost." - Jeremiah Wright

Jeremiah Wright's Book, Set to Hit Shelves in October

The greatest film of all time!

Okay okay since my celebrity crush got herself attached to a guy much hotter than I or most men could ever hope to be I swore to move on to another debutant, namely Ann Hathaway. This obviously didn't last.

I lie. I lie a lot.

I've been disappointed with Woody Allen films for the most part. Granted he gave us some brilliant work in the 70s, but his quality diminished since. While there have been a few highlights such as Bullets Over Broadway and Match Point most of his work since the mid 80s has been less than stellar. Granted he really set a high bar with Annie Hall and Crimes and Misdemeanors, but still we've learned to expect more from a mind as warped as his.

I never felt the need to rush out and see one of his films in a long time, but yet he created one recently that I hope to see on opening night. Just watch the below trailer and those who've been reading this blog for a while will understand why.



Yes it's another flick involving self indulgent people with too much time, talent, and not enough maturity to get their emotional house in order. Yet he put Scarlett and Penelope in the same film. Not only that they make out in it.

Hmm, maybe I need to rent this so I can watch it alone. I shouldn't have to explain why.

"One of the best things for a woman to hear is that she is sexy." - Scarlett Johansson

Hurray for Canada

Canada. Our neighbor to the north is known for many traits such as a polite populous, cleanliness, and a stubborn insistence on overusing the letter 'u'. Still many in the US view Canada with warm regards and appreciate the shoppers crossing the border and helping out our struggling economy.

You may have heard the story of the vile crime committed by some mentally ill youngster stabbing and decapitating a random victim on a bus. While this story sends chills down the spines of even those with a thick skin there's more to this tale that even makes it more disgusting.

The Westboro Baptist Church is capitalizing on this news and planned a protest for the funeral of the poor lad claiming his death was a result of the Almighty's wrath. According to the pastor Fred Phelps and his intellectual simpleton congregation the good Lord feels that because Canada does not create a holocaust for homosexuals he decides to make people die in horrific manners.

This should be no surprise to anyone who watches the news as Phelps and his church have protested veterans funerals, victims of the Amish shooting, Katrina, etc. They're always attention whoring these events for their own twisted view of a complex book.

The Canadian border patrol decided not to allow the Westboro Baptist Church into their country. Canada's free speech laws are very different from our own and hate speech will not be protected. The ACLU will probably sue as they've represented Phelps and his brethren before and this of course will not stop him from trying this again (he's successfully picketed various events up there previously).

I've written about the issue of letting the WBC protest a long time ago and it's a complicated issue for most. While I somewhat salute the Canadian government for allowing the victim's loved ones to mourn in peace I kind of wish they'd let them in the country to face the wrath of a bunch of toothless hockey players who sport mullets.

Erik's Ramblings, your source for overused stereotypes.

"God doesn't hate them because they're fags; they're fags because God hates them." - Fred Phelps

Controversial U.S. church group stopped at border

Thursday music

I spent some time yesterday trying to think of the worst song that's ever reached into the top 40. It's more difficult than one would assume to pick just one. I mean there's so many just terrible songs that were easily consumed by the young masses. Just looking back at my high school years where Snow, Color Me Badd, and Gerrado ruled the charts.

I just aged myself something fierce didn't I?

Most people my age and younger seem to forget music was actually produced before 1997 and crap like The Fine Young Cannibals once permeated the airwaves. When thinking about bad music, even going back as far as 1937, I found it almost impossible to narrow down which exactly was the worst. Given the criteria, of which there is little, I find there were too many to choose from. There's never a shortage of horrible tunes and untalented musicians (I'm looking at you Michael Bolton).

Still I'll take a stab and bring you one of the worst songs that annoyed me to no end. Today folks I bring you the 2 Live Crew:



"I want to do a record with Monica Lewinsky." - Luther Campbell

No one is interested in Wiwille and his hat

A friend of mine convinced me to add an application on Facebook called 'Are you Interested?' I did some research and found people were posting pics of themselves and a description. I guess you're supposed to click yes or no if you find any interest in them. Sort of like a low rent Match.com. After much debate I decided to try it out. It was free and what could it hurt?

I posted the pic you see of me playing pool and wrote 'I'm new to this whole thing. Please be gentle'. To my surprise I got quite a few hits. Women from all over clicked 'yes' and were sending me messages. Some were cordial, others were surreal as all hell. One lady from Florida decided to write a novel about herself detailing her life as well as her philosophy. Obviously not shy she explained her previous dealings with men and all that came with sleeping with guys who treated her like dirt. She didn't explain why she continued to keep getting naked for people she hated, but I didn't ask as she seemed a bit out of her mind.

More messages poured in ranging from single mothers looking for a guy who's not scared of their three children and their violent exes to girls who just wanted to simply chat and relieve their boredom. These chats got interesting to put it mildly. Mostly it was the scorned females desperate for some male attention. More hits and more strange messages followed within a few weeks and while I found the whole thing sort of comical there was a sense of sadness exuding from these girls. After hearing many stories of how guys were treating them I became thankful I'm not gay.

I changed my Facebook profile pic to the one you see below. I think the photo is damn funny and yes I know I look like a complete dork. I know I'm not very attractive anyways, but this was just too comical. I was painting my parent's place and asked them to provide me with a hat as I no longer own one. This is what they gave me.
After said change I've yet to receive a single hit. I find it absolutely hilarious. Women call men shallow? Yes I'm keeping this photo up.

"These are my children and nothing comes before them. I believe that life is about...." - Random message I received.

Yeah try and not judge

This weekend I was sitting with a friend watching TV. She claimed that I must see a documentary on BBC about men and their real dolls. For those unfamiliar real dolls are life sized female figurines that resemble the external feminine anatomy. Think of a blow up doll, but more intricate. Men purchase these for reasons I shouldn't have to explain.

The documentary focused on the lives of four men who own real dolls and chronicles their interaction with them. To my shock these hunks of plastic were much more to the guys than a simple play toy. All of them tried to make some sort of human interaction with the inanimate objects such as naming them, talking with them, trying to incorporate them into their daily lives, and overall treating them as if they were a real life girlfriend.

All but one of the men weren't in any sort of relationship with any women and would tell tales of being scorned or how difficult it was interacting with the opposite sex. Frustrated with the seemingly impossible task of getting a date they appreciated the attention they received from what they consider a beautiful woman, even though they in the end look comatose.

I try to keep an open mind about this and many things. These men who continue 'relationships' with their expensive plastic are not harming anyone. The men simply want to live a normal life, much like the ones you and I lead, but seriously I watched this documentary with jaw slacked and I couldn't help but feel how twisted this is. How delusional and angry at the reality they have chosen to treat a doll as a human being. I mean has technology come to this? Have we destroyed our ability to interact with others cause it's so much easier to fake our relationships?

Granted I imagine the segment of people who show such affection for a doll are few I imagine the number will grow. Finding such real interaction harmful to the psyche many are choosing to persue anything through the illusion of safe contact. Yet I'm thinking this now obscure and often time referred to as perverse trend will continue.

If someone shows up to my company's holiday party with one I'm going to cry.

"They were using the dolls to project their dreams of their own futures as adult women." - Ruth Handler