Wiwille has goals

People that know me know that there are few things I like more than good beer. Yes I fancy myself a bit of a beer snob to the annoyance of my bud light drinking buddies.

My friend Paul, who claims he puts the fun back in functional alcoholic, sent me an article that lists 40 things a drunkard should do before he dies. Many of my blogger friends have a list of goals they plan to accomplish within a certain time period. I have yet to commit to such, but today we'll be going down the list to see what I must do before the grim reaper pays a visit.

1.) Open and close a bar: Never done this. I've opened one once at 5:30am, but have yet to spend a complete business day there.
2.) Go on a bender: I think it's time I should take a week off work and spend it destroying my liver.
3.) Drink a fifth of hard liquor, by yourself, in one day: I don't get drunk alone. Seriously I don't. No I'm not kidding. Still don't believe me? Okay fine I'll do this.
4.) Dance like a fool in front of a large hooting crowd: I can't count how many times this has happened. From drunken renditions of the Hustle to stumbling through the latest crap pop song I've made a complete ass of myself on the dance floor a few times. Scratch this as 'accomplished'.
5.) Spend a night in the drunk tank: No comment.
6.) Get drunk on the grave of your hero: I'd love to sip Congac on Winston Churhill's grave, but isn't there some sort of curse that would arise from it?
7.) Buy a crowded bar a round: Yeah this whole list seems to be expensive.
8.) Embark on an impromptu road trip: Problem with this is having to find someone who'll drive sober. I've been on many a spontaneous road trip in my youth, but keeping my friends from drinking is a chore.
9.) Get 86’d from a bar: This has never happened to me. Seriously.
10.) Extravagantly overtip a bartender: Does it count where exactly I placed the money?
11.) Walk up to an attractive stranger way out of your league and buy him or her a drink: Hmm. This is something I've never done either. I think I can knock this off my list this weekend as it's not hard to find a girl who's way out of my leauge.
12.) Conspire an afterhours at your favorite bar: My old friend John and I did this a few times at Le Chat Noir. Good times.
13.) Make your best friend a perfect martini: My best friend doesn't like martinis. Actually he likes girly drinks. Would a rum and pineapple juice count?
14.) Buy, build or steal a home bar: This is not a bad idea if I didn't live in such a small apartment.
15.) Get carried home by your drinking buddies: Most of my buddies probably couldn't even lift me much less carry me somewhere. I'd probably get dragged instead.
16.) Get drunk with your father: I've been drunk in front of him, but never with him.
17.) Fight a good fight: Been there, done that.
18.) Visit the source of your favorite beer, wine or liquor: Ireland here I come.
19.) Drunkenly watch the sun come up with your best boozing buddies and a bottle: God I miss the days of drinking till the sun rose.
20.) Sit in on an A.A. meeting: Scratch this off the list. True story.
21.) Hit a dozen bars in one night: Easily accomplished if you can find someone who will drive you, but then again it doesn't say you have to drink at each one of them.
22.) Try at least one hundred different drinks: I've definatley been through that in beer.
23.) Get loaded in the land of your forefathers: Getting drunk in Germany was one of the greatest highlights of my life.
24.) Juice on the job: I used to have a really cool boss.
25.) Split a magnum of expensive champagne with your true love: This gets more complicated as one would have to find true love. Expensive champagne is easy.
26.) Give a hobo twenty bucks: I'm sure money given to the homeless is always a worthy cause.
27.) Get loaded and tell your boss exactly how you feel: He reads this blog. I probably don't need to tell him any more.
28.) Send a friend a bottle of good liquor: I truly am a friend indeed. Scratch this off the list.
29.) Eat a pickled egg from the big jar: Not a difficult task. I'll try that this weekend.
30.) Go on a fishing trip with your pals: This may never happen as none of my friends fish. I guess we could go on a chartered trip, or just buy poles and pretend.
31.) Eat the worm: My time in Tiajauna was spent wisely.
32.) Learn at least one traditional drinking song: Whiskey in the Jar was a favorite of mine.
33.) Steal some booze: Stole some MD 20/20 once as a teenager. Never could finish it.
34.) Spend half a paycheck on a single bottle of liquor: This is not a bad idea. Makers Mark isn't that expensive, but a bottle of Cognac will hit the spot.
35.) Start your long-awaited and very personal autobiography: Me and the Booze: A Love Story: I'll just simply write a post.
36.) Try absinthe: Devil stuff it is too. One of the few times I walked in a perfect Z formation.
37.) Watch the movie Barfly with five of your closest friends: Not a big fan of this film, but I'll try it again.
38.) Work at least a week as a bartender: I'd be fired within a day.
39.) Make your own beer, wine or moonshine: I used to make my own beer with good results. I need to do that again.
40.) Go to your place of worship loaded: Done that. Thanks Sam!

"Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." - Benjamin Franklin

A man is, ultimately, the sum of his accomplishments.

Thursday music

Years ago I started to watch Meet The Press which bored the crap out of the girl I was seeing. On Sunday evenings MSNBC would replay the show and we would watch it together, until she got tired of it and finally asked me why I had any interest in this "dull show".

I just looked at her and explained it's one of the few network political talk shows that seems less involved in theatre and more concentrated on good discourse. Frustrated with that answer she asked if she could change the channel. I agreed, but only if I got to watch next week.

The following week I tuned into MSNBC with my girlfriend cuddled with me. They were discussing the then Congressional mid-term elections when all of a sudden my gal starts kissing me. I stop her, look at her, then glance at the television and say "you're so bored by this you'd rather sleep with me?"

"Oh honey," she said sheepishly. "I'd rather have you than anything."

"Liar," I say. "You would never let me interrupt E.R. for some good nudity."

"Well......" she stated as her eyes pointed upwards pondering a response. She gave up and started kissing me again.

It was then I learned that nothing was a better aphrodisiac than political talk shows. Yes Tim Russert bored my then girlfriend so bad she thought being naked with me was a better than watching his show. That's saying a lot.

I kept watching his show for years and loved it. He was tough with his guest, but fair. Russert's research set the standard for the industry and all who watched him were excited to see how his high profile guests would answer for their politics. He defined the idea of the press being the watchdogs of Washington D.C. Never to lower the standards of having pulp journalism I always respected his show and it became a favorite of mine.

What does this have to do with Thursday Music you ask?

I was watching his memorial service last night. Many people got up and told stories about the brooding Irish Catholic journalist. It was touching to see so many people loved him and that he seemed like a man convicted more than most nowadays. Towards the end a man got up with a guitar and did an acoustic version of Springsteen's 'Born to Run'. I've never been a big fan of The Boss, but apparently Russert was. As I listened to some amazing guitar playing I recalled a person who also enjoyed the music of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. That person being my dear friend Kevin.

I still miss you Kevin.

"Should we freeze or postpone prospective tax cuts and avoid any new tax cuts until we are sure we have the money to pay for the war on terrorism and the war in Iraq." - Tim Russert

Wiwille is a pansy

Anyone that really knows me understands that I hate nothing worse than crying. I'd rather sit through an entire season of 'Full House' than shed a single tear. Call me a throwback to a time that never existed, but it is my firm belief that I should never let the water works flow even if I was subjected to seven root canals at the same time without any pain killers.

All this being said I have cried at movies before. I'm not sure why the medium can strike at my vulnerable side, but it does and as a consequence I'm stuck looking and feeling like a candy ass.

Listed below are some of the movies I've actually balled through. Go ahead and call me a wuss. This cry baby will still kick your ass.

1. Million Dollar Baby - I watched this with the Jiggaman and one of his cute friends in the theatre. At the time the credits rolled there sat two burly men fighting tears as if our lives depended on it. We must've been a sight.

2. Dead Poets Society - This movie hasn't aged well unfortunately. What once seemed to my teenage mind to be a great film really has turned into an over melodramatic sap fest, but at my first viewing I let a tear loose.

3. Casablanca - I've seen this film at least a dozen times as a child, but when I first saw it as a teenager it finally touched me.

4. Love Actually - I watched this recently and even though I've seen it before without incident the scene where Colin Firth busts into his love interest's place of work and proposes not caring if he looked like a complete fool got to me.

5. Pop & Me - This little seen documentary is a compelling one where a father and son travel the world interviewing various men about their paternal relationships. I think this is the only non-fiction film that actually made me weep.

6. Big Fish - I've already written about this.

7. Dr Zhivago - Few films have been less depressing than this. Set against the early days of the Bolschevic Revolution almost every element of this story is bleak.

8. Atonement - I absolutely love this film, but I don't think I want to see it again, ever.

9. The Thief - I've never seen a movie make post-WWII Soviet Union look so miserable and it's a Russian film no less. A story of innocence lost, this film made my father cry, which is a rarity indeed.

Okay that's enough. Yeah so I can be a sap. Seriously I think I need a weekend of masculinity which involves MMA fighting, drinking 14 porters, boobs, possible arrest due to driving a muscle car through a mall, and a book about war.

"There is no sense in crying over spilt milk. Why bewail what is done and cannot be recalled?" -Sophocles

Mosaic Collage Meme

I got this from Grace.

This Meme is all about the Mosaic Collage that you are about to build by answering the questions in this meme by using pictures!

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Google Image Search or same type of search engine for pictures.
2. Using only the first page of results, pick one image. You can’t search forever for a certain image.
3. Copy and paste each in any program that you can post the pictures in a mosaic pattern. I used Microsoft Paint.

The questions:

1. What is your first name? Erik
2. What is your favourite food? Sushi
3. What high school/University did you go to? R.A. Long
4. What is your favourite colour? Black
5. Who is your celebrity crush? Seriously you don't know? Okay it's Scarlett Johannson...oh and thanks for stopping by my blog.
6. What is your favourite drink? Vodka martini
7. What is your dream vacation? Europe
8. What is your favourite dessert? Cheesecake
9. What do you want to be when you grow up? Sexy
10. What do you love most in life? Drinking
11. What is one word that describes you? Weird
12. What is your blog name? Erik's Ramblings

And here's the collage:

"A dream collage is pictures of your goals. It is like your future photo album." - Bo Bennett

Booze, boobs, and box office.

I'm sitting here typing instead of sleeping. I should be in bed now, which technically I am, but again the insomnia fairy has struck. I might as well write myself to sleep.

I took Friday off to be a tour guide for the lovely Miss Ash and her friends Howard and Jason. What was interesting about them is they brought a long a doll they won in a claw machine, which was a black baby dressed in a chicken costume. Keeping with the theme of their own chicken costumes they were going to wear at a party the next day, they lugged that doll all around Seattle taking pictures of it with various landmarks and in very creative fashion.

Miles were walked as we strolled through downtown hitting the sites. Jason and Howard seemed opposed to spending much money so we did as many free things a humanly possible including visiting the library. Still I had fun as we walked around looking at stuff I normally wouldn't with a local. Howard was pretty set on visiting Olympic Sculpture Park, which I never even heard of. Turns out there was a reason for that. Miss Ash was kinda pissed we walked that far to see a bunch of large cones.

The day progressed and I started to crash. Sleep deprivation started to rear it's ugly head and I feeling a bit ill. I had to make my leave at around midnight as I had a seminar the next day and really didn't need to be practicing the martial arts hungover, so I made my leave without any heavy drinking sadly. I had a good time though and hope they did.

After the seminar the next day I headed up to Bellingham for an evening with Elli and Friend. We went to an Irish Pub and the drinking ensued. Elli introduced me to one of her employees to which she explained that she's heard all about me. She then whispered something in Elli's ear. Laughter took place as Elli explained I was not the guy who passed out in a bathroom at Target.

The employee leaned over and whispered something else in Elli's ear. Elli laughed again and said yes I am the one she wants as her maid of honor for her upcoming nuptials.

Yes you read that correctly.

She went on to announce I was to wear a gawdy dress, to which I agreed. When given a role you might as well take it all the way.

The night went on and the spirits went down my throat rather quickly. Car bombs. Oh you devil car bombs.

At some point I was talking to a hot Asian gal who is the girlfriend of one of Elli's employees. Her dress was a little revealing and her boobs seemed desperate for liberation. I kept informing her of the exposure, but she seemed unphased. I tried to maintain a gentlemanly appearance by looking away, but since the conversation was somewhat deep to people that are inebriated she insisted I look at her.

Okay so I did catch a peek. I like boobs. Sue me.

I had a great time though hanging around the hot folks at a bar, drinking like I was 20 again, and having many laughs. I'm enjoying visiting Bellingham again, although each time I leave a bar I still wish my friend Kevin could've been with us. God rest his soul.

The next day I took my folks and nephews out for a Father's Day breakfast. I wanted to spend some time with dad today, but really both mom and him looked tired from running around with their grandchildren. I did the best thing I could for them and told my parents that I will take the boys off their hands for a few hours.

All involved were delighted.

Gabe and Corban pile into my car and were excited to go to the park to play. I asked them about sports and both insisted that baseball was a better game than football.

Oh this will not do. Nope not at all.

I immediately go and buy a nerf football and take them to a field. There I tried to teach them the basics of the sport, but mass confusion arose. Simply catching the ball was a chore for them, but when they did the boys would often start running the wrong way. I told them to head for the end zone, but as Corban scored his first touchdown he kept running till he got off the field. Call him an overachiever. I then had to explain where the field stars and ends to which they reminded me of the proper school yard terminology called "not playable".

We then played on the playground and later took them to see Ironman, which they loved. I took them back to mom and dad's for dinner and made my goodbye. I traveled home back to my life, back to the weekly ritual of work, gym, martial arts, etc. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I need a vacation.

"Football is a game of errors. The team that makes the fewest errors in a game usually wins." - Paul Brown

Thursday music

I don't know exactly how I got into big band music as a kid. My folks never really enjoyed it. Maybe it was because of old Looney Tunes, which featured the genre prominently. Whatever the reason I grew a strong liking for the big band sound and it stuck with me for years. When swing dancing became all the rage back in the mid to late 90s I was excited by the fact that I could actually purchase the music at a local store rather than to search obscure retailers trying to locate a simple vinyl (sorry WIGSF). Still that fad went the way of the Pogo Ball and it's rare someone will even admit they enjoyed the music.

All that rambling aside here's some Glenn Miller for you.

"Why do you judge me as a musician, John? All I'm interested in is making money." - Glenn Miller

Wiwille's movie reviews part 51

Documentaries can often be more fiction than fact depending on the intent of the director and/or editor. The author of the piece usually has a theme already in mind before even shooting the film, but there are exceptions. Directors often start with a story they may have in mind, but as they pursue it they find themselves wrapped in a completely different tale.

Terry Zwigoff's 'Crumb' is unlike most films you've ever seen. Following the life of famous comic book artist R. Crumb, Zwigoff finds himself shooting the refreshingly candid and controversial artist. For those of you unfamiliar, R. Crumb was popular throughout the sixties and seventies in the underground comic movement creating characters you've probably heard of or seen. Fritz the Cat, Mr Natural, and the 'keep on truckin' walking guy are all trademarks of his, but that's just a small slice of his work. He's been called many things such as revolutionary, sexist, racist, and morally perverse, yet few in the field can deny his influence.

His art is still controversial even by our standards as being sadistic towards women. It seems the jury is still out on whether his drawings and stories should be celebrated or not considering it's graphic nature and even racist undertones. He seems to make no apologies for any offense that might be taken by his audience as Crumb explains that most of his work was under the influence of hallucinogens and he clearly states that his hatred toward the fairer sex is a fair subject matter to tackle.

The film starts with Crumb visiting his older brother Charles, a complete outcast and manic depressive who's refused to even leave the house for long periods of time. Living with his mother, Charles is heavily medicated and speaks in a tone that suggests a serious mental illness.

The film's strengths lie in where we see R. Crumb's family, from the disturbed Charles to his younger sibling, a sex offender named Max. In it they relate stories of a tyrannical father of the WWII generation who was often disgusted with the idea of having outcasts as children. Blaming the comforts of the fifties for their inability to maintain a relatively normal social status their father would often abuse them while their prescription drug addict mother would sit idly by wallowing in her substance abuse.

R. Crumb seemed to be the only one who escaped the torment of childhood, from his aggressive father to horrid memories of being ridiculed by his peers. Still to describe the man as well adjusted would be delusional. While he admits his hatred of women, and some would say this is well shown in his comics, he also lacks an ability to express love even when pressed. His sexuality is all over the map as he relates stories of masturbating to pictures of Bugs Bunny and various other cartoon characters, often multiple times a day. His fascination with dominating is told through his drawings as he depicts ample bodied amazonian female bodies with sometimes bird like heads.

His naive nature can be endearing though and R. Crumb seems a figure of empathy rather than disdain. After watching this film recently for the fourth time I find it more of a triumph of how art can help you escape the hell some people call reality.

It should be noted that Crumb himself hated this film and it's portrayal of him and his family and produced another documentary which was far less appealing. Even though I'm not a fan of comics I found this movie fascinating and would highly recommend it as one of the best documentaries I've ever seen.

Thanks to Ryon 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.

"Yet as I left the film, I felt that if anyone had earned the right to express his own vision, it was Crumb, since his art is so clearly a coping mechanism that has allowed him to survive, and deal with his pain. "Crumb" is a film that gives new meaning to the notion of art as therapy." - Roger Ebert

Be sure to turn it off

I was reading a story earlier today about a woman who was caught cheating on her boyfriend. According to the story the woman invited over an ex-boyfriend for a night of infidelity when they unthinkable happened. Her cell phone hit the floor and dialed her current boyfriend who listened to the girl get her freak one with another man. Yeah, awkward.

The man apparently went out of his tree and drove over and assaulted her leaving a shoe print on her face. Poor woman. I don't understand violence of this nature. I've been cheated on before, but I would never raise a hand in anger to a woman. Guy probably has a small jimmy.

This tale reminds me of an incident I had, sans the brutality. I was hanging out with Corey having beers and my phone rings. It was another friend, who shall remain nameless. I pick up the phone and hear some loud music and a bunch of beeps from him hitting the phone keys. I scream my friend's name into the phone, but there was no response. Finally I hang up.

Couple seconds later the phone rings again. It was the same guy. Again I hear nothing but loud music and a bunch of beeps. I hang up.

Sure enough the phone rings again. Same person, same response. I hang up the phone wondering what could possibly be happening.

Of course he calls again. This time not only was there loud music and beeping, but I could faintly hear some woman talking dirty. Ye Gods he's getting freaky with his wife and calling me. What the hell?

I immediately hang up and call him back to make sure he would turn off his phone. I would hate to think that maybe he would call his mother during this. I reach his voice mail.

He calls again. I don't even answer.

I call him again and finally he picks up.

Him: Erik?

Me: Dude you called me a bunch of times.

Him: What?

Me: Just now. You kept calling me and all I heard was a bunch of music and beeping. Then finally I heard your wife...you know...talking.

Him: My wife?

Me: Yeah your wife.

Him: .........

Me: You really need to turn off your phone while you're intimate.

Him: Ohhhh hahahahahaha.

Me: What the hell is so funny?

Him: I'm at a bachelor party. I just got a lap dance. She must've hit the phone and dialed you. You're on my speed dial.

Me: Oh my god.

Him: Yeah.

Me: I hope she didn't call your wife.

Him: .....HOLY SHIT.

Me: Man you are screwed.

Him: Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm so fucked....

Me: Dude hang up now. I imagine you have some calls to make.

Him: Fuck fuck fuck.....

He hung up. Thankfully the only call that the lap dance made was to me. So let this be a lesson folks. First off if you have a wife who's not comfortable with the idea of a half naked woman on your lap, well don't get a lap dance. That should be obvious. Second get a flip phone, or simply turn it off.

Wiwille, protecting you from divorce.

"It is necessary to the happiness of man that he be mentally faithful to himself. Infidelity does not consist in believing, or in disbelieving, it consists in professing to believe what he does not believe." - Thomas Paine

Woman assaulted after dialling boyfriend during sex

Wiwille's gonna be a movie star

My dear friend Ryon is a filmmaker and is currently working on a new script that is in pre-production. For those of you unfamiliar this is the same guy who directed Grip Loss, a movie I wrote about a few days back.

Ryon's new film is a horror story with a plot that I won't reveal yet, but as I'm sort of the Kyle MacLachlan to his David Lynch he casted me in the role of a scruffy tough rancher. I raise sheep.

I'm not kidding people.

I've yet to meet the rest of the cast as they're all based in or around Idaho, but today he sent pictures of each of us. I started scrolling through the pics and realized that everyone in this film is really good looking, sans me and the old guy with the Santa beard. They look more like actors that star in a CW series than a horror flick.

The girl that plays my character's love interest is absolutely smoking hot. I don't know how this will come off as believable. Since I'm currently editing the script I think I'll write in some line about my 12 inch personality, cause after all movies never lie.

The shoot is scheduled tentatively for September and I'll keep you posted on the progress.

"I think that true horror is accomplished by slowly getting into your brain. The old way is much more scary." - Sergio Aragones

Dramatic tension

When I was in middle school I was bitten by the acting bug. I signed up for a drama class and learned the elementary levels of being a thespian. The teacher decided we would perform a comedic version of Romeo and Juliet and I was cast as some nameless Capulet.

Truth be told I was never any good at acting, but I tried to bring the most into my four lines of dialogue. I practiced over and over again, but my delivery was weak. The teacher showed great patience with me and even allowed me to ham it up a bit to the amusement of all watching the rehearsals.

Curtain time. The entire school is sitting in the auditorium waiting to see us young actors entertain them for a few minutes. I had one scene which I took a note from a nameless Montague and read it. Afterwards I was to crumble up the note and get into a little exchange with another Montague.

Sounds simple enough right? If you honestly believe that this would go simply I'd like to welcome you to my blog.

The costumes consisted of tights and some med-evil puffy shirt which was amusing to say the least. So there I was standing there in clothes that would probably send your average homophobe into cardiac arrest in front of an unforgiving audience that consisted of hormones on parade. I awaited the Montague message ready to deliver my line in a fashion that would make Marlon Brando jealous, cause I had to make up for the fact I looked stupid in that outfit.

A kid name Chris played the deliver of the message. Chris was your stereotypical 'nerd'. He acted strange, was always picked last in P.E., dressed like he was a cast member of the Brady Bunch, and would hang out with equally like minds. Still he was a harmless guy and no one ever picked on him, probably because for all his faults he was really nice.

Unfortunately for him he lived one of the most terrifying events that can happen to someone of that age.

I recited in my head what I was about to say, but then came my cue. I started to hear faint giggles from the audience, but I was confused as to why. There was nothing that was supposed to be funny going on so I was confused. I turn to look at Chris as he announced he had a message. He starts to approach me and before my eyes I see a 12 year old in tights with a massive erection.

Yes the poor bastard was suddenly excited at that moment. It was like something out of a bad American Pie sequel that went straight to DVD. I froze. My attempt to channel the spirit of James Dean was vanquished. I stood there trying to control a combination of laughter and pity.

Small chuckles from the audience turned into howling. The teachers were doing their best to calm everyone down as I stood there wide eyed, keeping Chris out of my field of vision. The whole idea of saying my lines like a superstar were shot, so I did the best thing I could. I did my best impression of a game show host as I shouted the dialogue.

The audience roared. I mean friggin roared. Finally all the educators stopped even trying to whisper to them to be quiet. They were yelling at the students to maintain order. Chris made his way off stage and we continued the scene as best we could. Finally the curtain dropped and I made my way backstage.

The teacher was giving Chris a whole ration of hell for lack of bodily control. She was pissed at how he ruined her precious play. Of course being in middle school he was the butt end of many taunts afterwards. Girls would point and laugh and announce "he had a boner." Guys would say crude stuff to him and make sure he felt all sorts of shame for being a young lad with too much energy.

At that age it only took a change in the wind to get me...uhh...well...hard so it wasn't an uncommon occurrence when I refused to go up to the blackboard. I guess I have to salute him for his bravery, cause I would've ran like hell the moment I thought I'd be at half mast, much less full. Even though a lot of guys would pick on him after that I believe all felt sorry for him to some degree. We all experienced embarrassing moments like that in our youth, but thankfully for most of us it never reached that wide an audience.

Chris never signed up for drama again.

"A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age." - William Shakespeare

Thursday Music

I'm not sure why, but I've had Bob Marley stuck in my head all morning. I'm not a huge fan of the reggae artist, nor do I worship at the altar of the genre like many so often do, but I find a lot of his stuff catchy at least. Usually if I need a Marley fix I can hang at some strip mall sports bar and count on hearing "No Woman No Cry" come blaring over the jukebox at some point.

I'm not sure why I had this particular song penetrating my mind when I woke up today, but I can't complain, cause I do enjoy it. So for today's Thursday Music I bring you "Redemption Song."

If I were smart I would've saved yesterday's post for today.

"When you smoke the herb, it reveals you to yourself." - Bob Marley

Taggedy

I was tagged by WIGSF regarding a music post. Here goes:

'List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now.'

There are many songs I'm into right now for various different reasons so this list may see a bit random, but I make no apologies for it. I won't get into why exactly I'm into some of them, cause some things aren't fit for broadcasting on this or any blog. Since I have such refined tastes in everything you can and should read this list as gospel.

1. When You Were Young - The Killers



2. Crush Crush - Paramore



3. Stripped - Depeche Mode



4. On my own - Les Miserables



5. Fade to Black - Metallica



6. Rhapsody in Blue - Covered numerous times.





7. Young Folks - Peter Bjorn & John



"I’m supposed to tag seven people. Okay, here we go: JLee, Wiwille, Miss Ash, Bob, Claire, Spark and Sarebeth." - WIGSF

Another dream girl for Wiwille

Alec IM'd me on Saturday night asking if I was watching the fights. I quickly tuned into CBS's broadcast of EliteXC fights, which for those who are unfamiliar is a MMA competition, much like the UFC. I was killing time before I was to go get some beers with Corey so I stayed tuned to the 'junior league' of mixed martial arts competition.

The announcers then turn their attention to the upcoming female fighters. They introduce Gina Carano, the 'female face of martial arts'. Oh what a face is it.

I sat in front of the TV watching the pre-fight interviews and realized that I must marry this woman. She's beautiful and she can fight. That's just hot. I mean uber sexy. Then again I imagine if we got into any argument she would want to solve them in the ring. I better train more if I am to be her husband. Or I could stop being so pathetic as to pine over women I'll never meet even though I know they'll never be able to resist someone as sexy as myself. And why I say sexy I mean turning nuns away from their faith kind of sexy.

Apparently she's also on that American Gladiators show, a program I have no interest in watching, until now that is.

"By raising awareness of something even greater, that just happens to come out of female competitors." - Gina Carano

Wiwille's movie reviews part 50

Tim Burton is one of those movie makers that often puzzles me. He can make some enjoyable films such as Ed Wood and Edward Scissorhands, but at the same time he's responsible for such garbage as Planet of the Apes and Sleepy Hollow. Still no matter how bad the stories may be Burton's visual work is nothing short of amazing and for that I'll watch everything he makes at least once.

'Big Fish' is one of my favorites from the Johnny Depp loving filmmaker, cept this one doesn't star Johnny Depp. Hmm.

Anyways the story follows Edward Bloom, an ailing elderly man with a flair for storytelling, and his estranged son Will. Will goes to see his sickly father, but under some self protest as he can't stand him and his exaggerated stories of his life. Regardless Edward continues to tell the fantastic tale of his existence to anyone within ear shot.

The film then cuts to flashbacks of the young Edward and his great adventures as a carnival worker, a love struck youngin, a soldier, and his encounters with all sorts of odd characters. As Edward engages his daugther-in-law with his fabricated memories his son Will is disgusted with his father's lack of engagement with reality. Edward's wife; however, seems to love him dearly and finds the tall tales amusing, if not attractive.

I loved this film when I saw it in the theatre and just having seen it again I still adore the picture. The story is a touching one and I enjoy the mythic stories told upon us. Albert Finney is excellent as usual and is a treat to watch. Hell the whole cast is great and the script allows them to have fun playing characters that range from dry to surreal. We all somewhat romanticize our past and this film finds splendor in such memories.

I first saw this with an ex-girlfriend. At the end she leaned her head on my shoulder and cried. After the credits rolled and the auditorium lights came up she wiped her tears and glanced up at me. She then shot me a look of surprise and asked me if I cried. I told her of course I didn't.

I was lying.

She knew that.

Thanks to Foster Communications 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.

"Burton has not given his imagination such free rein since Edward Scissorhands, and this stands with that and the equally generous Ed Wood as one of his best movies." - Terry Lawson

Washington State GOP: Bringing back the crazy

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

Bad movies I love part 23

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

Wiwille fights, loses

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 'heeeee yaaaaahhhh'.

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

Wiwille's movie reviews part 49

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

Let us give thanks

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

And people wonder why I think the way I do.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"Oh I'm not," she replied.

".......you're not?" I asked.

"No," she answered.

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

Thursday music: No justice no peace

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

Thou shalt not ride

"You're kidding?" I asked.

"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 VW GTI.

Flying penisky

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

Wiwille's movie reviews part 48

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

And for what?

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

Thursday music

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

I want to believe

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." - Barack Obama

Search terms

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.

7. Poison Ivy 2. I guess I'm not the only one who loves me a film featuring Alyssa Milano topless.

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