Who am I to argue?

The shop called and said the bearings will need to be special ordered, but it the car is safe to drive around until then as long as I don't take it on any long road trips. I got home and got some sleep, but not nearly enough for the ten hours I'm facing tonight. Still it's not so bad as my work volume today seems to be pretty slow and won't pick up anytime soon.

The Pretty Girl, referencing my earlier post, believes I look nothing like Ray Liotta. I guess that's a good thing. She does say I look like Shane West, which I somewhat get. Hey if I had to look like anyone it might as well be a good looking television star. I will say Shane West is far better looking than myself, but if that's how she views me I'm fine with it.

I feel kind of girlie writing about a resemblance to celebrities. I need to go drink dark beer and smash up a car with a sledge hammer all the while pounding my chest. Excuse me...

"Sexy, to me, has everything to do with how one speaks, how someone holds themselves, their smile, and how they treat people." - Shane West

Man this sucks.

Two days ago I noticed a high screeching sound from my car. It sounded like the transmission was going bad so I had to take the car in as soon as possible to avoid any serious damage if none had already occurred. I got off of work this morning and took the car into a transmission shop who about an hour ago discovered the problem. A wheel bearing has gone bad and I'm waiting for them to call me back once they get a price on it.

This is the hell that is working graveyards. I worked a ten hour shift last night. I stayed awake till 8a this morning to take the car in. I'll know the price of the repair at 11:30a. I'll get to approve the work and wait for them to fix the damn thing which at this point I have no idea how long that'll take. Oh and I have to work tonight. It's possible I may be under my desk sleeping the day away.

If I were working days this would be so much simpler, but alas this is the business I have chosen.

"I was the graveyard shift in a plastics plant in Texas. It was like being a vampire." - George Eads

On August 5th many British kittens will die.

In what is quite possibly the oddest charity drive ever the San Francisco-based Centre for Sex and Culture organizes a Masturbate-a-thon. Yes you read that right. Many people get together to spank to raise money for safe sex groups.

Not content with keeping this as a strictly American activity they exported the idea to the UK, which will be filmed for a documentary that will air on British television on August 5th.

I've walked for charity, but never have I even thought about pleasuring myself in a room full of guys. Just the thought of me and my friends doing that in each other's presence makes it hard to believe it's even possible. Now if all my friends looked like Aishwarya Rai well maybe I could step up to the plate and give to the needy. Granted I'd probably wouldn't get much mileage. Actually they couldn't use me at all, cause I never masturbate...ever.

I wish someone would come up with a punch-stupid-people-in-the-face-a-thon.

"Following on from the success of 'Penis week', we feel this is exactly the type of provocative and mischievous programming that Channel 4 should be covering in the 11pm slot. Masturbation is something many people do but not many people talk about," - Andrew MacKenzie

More tossers on TV

I should've gone into broadcasting.

There's a guy I work with who's located in our Texas office. I only communicate with him by phone and we've never seen each other. Tonight he hits me with this gem:

"Hey Erik. Did anyone ever tell you you sound like Kiefer Sutherland?" he said.

"Really?" I replied. "I've never heard that in my entire life."

"Yeah you do," he said. "Only sometimes though. You should make commercials for a living."

There's a thought. So apparently I have a creepy voice that I can use to hock merchandise for the Japanese.

I've been told that I look like a cross between Henry Rollins and Ray Liotta, which I take as a compliment, but never have I been compared to the likes of Kiefer. I don't know how I feel about that honestly. With the looks of Henry and the voice of Kiefer I imagine that when people first meet me they assume I abuse puppies.

"I liked the ceremony, the ritual of preparing cocaine, as much as doing it. I did it for a year, loved it, then stopped. Now I feel the same way about cooking." - Kiefer Sutherland

This Kiefer commercial makes no sense:

Makes you want to tear your hair out.

We've all worked those jobs that had at least one employee who seemed less then, shall I say, smart. When it finally becomes obvious that such a worker is too incompetent to manage a place among the low skilled workforce I'm often curious as to how this person exists outside the workplace. How do they pay their bills? How do they handle tasks such as laundry, cooking, etc.

I once worked as a camera salesman/photo lab tech for a large retail camera chain. I met many a type at that job. Some took it so seriously you would think they were working for the Peace Corps. Some didn't give a damn. And some made you feel pain for the fate of humanity.

Once interesting girl was Wynona, who called herself "Nona" for short. When Wynona first started she seemed enthusiastic about her newfound employment, but early in her training I found her to be the dimmest bulb.

Selling consumer/amateur cameras was pretty simple. All you really had to know was what the symbols on each camera meant in case the customer had questions about them and simply hand the device to the customer to let them play with it. We had a broad selection so it would be hard to not find a point and shoot camera that wouldn't fit someone's needs.

Wynona had such difficulty remembering the symbols that I wrote out a spreadsheet with the definitions of each and every function of all of our products. When a customer asked a question about a certain symbol, such as the lighting bolt which meant flash, she would throw up her hands in frustration and yell "I know nuttin about no cameras" and pleaded for someone to help her. I guess she found that to be a better solution than referencing the sheet I made for her.

Wynona had a problem with math as well. She was counting out the till and seemed to arrive at an impasse.

"Erik," Wynona said with much confusion. "What's 20-16?"

"You don't know?" I replied.

"No," she said. "I'm no good with this."

"It's okay Wynona," I said.

Frustrated with her inability to figure things out on her own I made her figure it out on paper. When she couldn't do that she pulled out the calculator. She couldn't compute that as well, which still beguiles me to this day. Finally I gave her the answer as we would've been there all night doing simple calculations.

When customers came in to pick up their prints they would often show off their pictures to the employees. I was cleaning up the counters when I hear Wynona starting to get excited when a customer displayed her vacation pictures.

"Erik," Wynona cried. "This lady went to Paris aaaaaaand France!"

The customer got a puzzled look on her face. I didn't correct Wynona as I was kind enough not to make her feel like the idiot she displayed herself to be. It probably would've taken a long conversation in explaining that Paris is indeed in France, one that I didn't have time for.

Alas Nona quit her job all of a sudden one day saying she was moving to California with her boyfriend. She wasn't missed as a worker, but as a source of comedy she was truly tough shoes to fill.

"In Paris, one is always reminded of being a foreigner. If you park your car wrong, it is not the fact that it's on the sidewalk that matters, but the fact that you speak with an accent." - Roman Polanski

And as we sit back..

While most of the press looks upon the recent Lebanon and Israel conflict with grim, almost apocalyptic, arrogance in trying to debate the five thousand year old strife in the mideast Iran and the US seem to sit back and view this proxy battlefield trying to analyze who in the East and West will speak in support for Hezbollah or the Jewish nation. Suffering no direct casualties the powerful comfortably view who their friends really are in this ugly battle.

It's sad when Iran, who seems to loathe the Palestinian people, will gladly use them in their agenda to wipe Israel off the map. Now their economic support for Hezbollah has caused numerous casualties for the citizens of Lebanon. Blame Israel all you want, but no side is innocent and in this case Hezbollah should have seen this coming when they detained the Israeli soldiers.

I won't go into the history of the conflict, nor sit here and act as some arrogant blogger trying to play the blame game in this war, but my hearts and prayers do go out to the civilians trapped in this eternal struggle. They are truly suffering the consequences of world leaders who simply cannot put tired old ideologies behind them and are perpetually living in the 3rd century while the other side cannot stand the idea of losing it's grasp of what it claims as it's right to power in a region that hates them.

Peace will never reign in the middle east, because quite simply no one on either side seems to want it.

"We plan to eliminate the state of Israel and establish a purely Palestinian state. We will make life unbearable for Jews by psychological warfare and population explosion. We Palestinians will take over everything, including all of Jerusalem." - Yasser Arafat

Man turns 100. Celebrates momentous occasion with class.

You may be surprised to learn I've never been to a Hooters restaurant. It's not that I'm a prude, far from it, but as much as I like hot women in little clothing I don't see the point of eating bad food. I'd rather have ugly waitresses who provide good service than otherwise. I go to a restaurant for good food and good company, not for girls in skimpy shorts to pretend that I'm handsome while hustling me for good tips.

Nat Back was taken to Hooters to celebrate his 100th birthday. He says it wasn't his idea, but no one pulled a gun to his head to do so.

As classless as this may seem I do hope I enjoy near naked women when I'm 100. If I live that long I'll probably be too wrapped up in appreciating the finer things in life such as going to the bathroom without assistance.

"My girlfriend works at Hooters... in the kitchen." - Mitch Hedberg

Man celebrates 100th birthday at Hooters

The Phantom Pisser

A lot of human activity makes me ponder what it is that makes us do the things we feel so compelled to do. I see people involved in strange behavior and always think why they are so weird.

I just found out today that we have a phantom pisser at work. He's a guy who feels it is necessary to urinate on the toilet paper rolls.

What drives a man to do something so damn gross? Men are disgusting creatures I know, but peeing on toilet paper? Is this some new fetish that I haven't heard of?

If I ever catch the guy we'll have one serious disagreement.

"European toilet paper is made from the same material that Americans use for roofing, which is why Europeans tend to remain standing throughout soccer matches." - Dave Barry

Sexymonica really wants to be my friend.

I'm really getting tired of MySpace. A lot of my friends use the site to blog and post pics of themselves and in doing so I felt it would be kind of cool to get an account myself to view their content.

I've been getting inundated with friend requests and most of them are bizarre. A lot of times I get requests with pictures of hot women who list a vivid description of themselves. When I click on their profile link it normally takes me to a porn site.

Monica however really wants to be my buddy something fierce. She has two profiles, Cutiemonica and Sexymonica. She has sent me three requests to be my little MySpace pal, two of which came from Sexymonica. I clicked on her profile which has the following description with my comments in red:

MY M.S.N is CANDYBACKA@HOTMAIL.COM - PLEASE CHAT ME THERE - I HAVE A WEBCAM AND CAN ONLY USE IT ON MSN :) (Yeah if that ain't a surefire sign for getting on a porn spam list) -- -- -- ---- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - I am special (Mommy told me I'm special too, but that's before they had me locked up as a child).. I am horny (So am I, but I don't advertise it...wait I just did...damn) ... I am fun and caring and lovable. I like to go out and have fun with the girls and I love oral sex (Giving or receiving? Come on I want details) and surfing lol (I don't know what's funny about surfing. Perhaps I have no sense of humor) .. I also love to skate in the winter (Your profile lists her in San Diego.) and going out with a hot guy to dinner then maybe some fun at his place! (Is she a Red Robin, Daniels, or Denny's kind of gal? I mean how much does one have to shell out for this girl?) I guess you could say i'm a pretty normal gal who knows how to have a good time. (Yes most normal girls love to post bikini pics and talk about how easy they are to bang) I love to party and drink with my girls.. I have met several people off the internet who i am now friends with (No one wants to be my friend, online or in real life, cept for you dear Sexymonica) .. i love playing on my webbcam and just hangin out.. hit me up if u wanna know more :) I love girls and guys.. i think its beautiful when one can have an attraction for two of the same sexes (Depends on who the two are really. If you're talking Roseanne and Paula Poundstone, well the idea of beauty eludes me.) .. ..*@% those people who thinks its weird, cause its not, its normal (You can try and convince me all you want a wee wee and a man's hairy ass just doesn't do it for me. Call me different). Turn-ons: Abs,asses, boobs, tongues, tattoos, piercings, soft skin, shaved down there, eyes, lips, tight jeans, hot cologne, motor bikes, hot cars, 3-somes, porn, chocolate!!! (0-17 on my part. Yeah I don't think her and I are much of a match.) Turn-offs: Smelly people, hairy people, (2-0 there) loud people, cheap people, liars, idiots, racist people! (I can think of a few women who would agree that I'm an idiot.) I am a very genuine and sincere person. (Well you do seem honest.) I try not to catagorize myself into a specific sterotype or manner or presentation (Like attention whore/bi-curious MySpace troll?) .I can speak for myself. (And oh what fine prose you use to do so.) I would like to say that I am assure in who I am and what I am, but it would be a lie if I did. (I've never been assure about anything. Are you assure?) However I know what I like and don't like, and I know the kind of person I would like to be. (It's so very touching to hear that you're in touch with your likes and dislikes. I just found out I'm not into people punching me in the face.) It takes alot to make me feel intimidated, yet i'll admit when I am feeling vonerable. Im not shy I just chose to be quite the majority of the time. (I'm quite too. Wait quiet? Uhh forget it) I can be very hypicritical (Not that I'm a whiz at grammar, but one would think your average spell check program would catch this) I aspire to be the kind of person who walks into a room and lights it up, however that doesnt mean I expect or want to be the center of attention. (Your pic above and multiple friends requests is living proof you don't expect to catch the eye of people.) I can be unpredictable, I tend to surprise myself sometimes. I am well mannered and i accept everyone. (Except if they're hairy, smelly, bigoted, etc) If someone is being rude to me, I am more likely to smile and compliment them in a sincere way rather than doing it sarcastically to provock them. (Wow I just make fun of people online. I guess I'm a bad person. Do you still accept me dear Sexymonica? Are you "assure" you really want me as an online buddy?) I keep the negative things to myself unless its for the good of someones being. (Poking fun of you is great for my being.) I can handle critism (well then you won't mind this post thank god) and i will not be afraid to voice my talents (such as oral?) I don't pretend to be older than I am (what woman does?), I just know what I know. (Wow I know what I know too. Guess what? I don't know what I don't know.) I dont feel I am competition (good thing you don't, cause competition you aren't), nor do I have competition. I consider myself a someone not a something. (I feel that I'm a person to, not an inatimate object, but it took me years to come to this awesome realization) I always tend to put others before myself (even when it comes to oral?) I am well respected (I bet the dude that laid you in the back seat of his Pinto after taking you to Taco Bell for dinner respects you too) and I appreciate what i have, i try to want what i have. I am a more spiritual then religious (Too lazy to go to church on Sunday eh?) The unknown and paranormal fascinate me. Sometimes I dream in color. I hardly ever take things literally but I mean what I say (So does that mean if I take you dinner you will definitely come to my place for a little fun and oral? Sweet? Wait I have to be hot? Zoinks foiled again.) I am confident yet modest, and comfterble in my own skin. (If I post a pic of me in shorts does that mean I'm modest? Don't worry dear readers for I would never do that to you.) I dont feel the need to hide my imperfections. Im learning to embrace them. I do not walk the streets thinking that everyone is looking at me however I will smile and say hi to everyone. *Im not very materialistic and I consider myself intelligent, I am just forgetful and absent minded at times (Have you ever locked your keys in the car while it's running?) I dont freak out when I dont get my way however I can be manipulative. (aka I'm a total bitch and use my boobs to get a guy to take care of my car payment) I don't believe in luck (That's why you got implants) . I love it when random things happen it makes my day, ill get amused easily, it doesnt take much to make me happy (like oral?) .Im rather clumbsy (especially when typing) and i love to ascociate with all different kinds of people. (Except for those hairy bastards.) I try to stay very positive, open minded and laid back, but sometimes I can stubborn. (Didn't know stubborn is now a verb) I love a good challenge (So do I, but you don't sound like much of one) .......I am a fan of contradictions. * "I have a face, but I am not my face. I have a body, but I am not my body" *"It takes a smart girl to play stupid well"* "Why be a princess when parliment has more power" (There are so many things wrong with that last statement I won't waste time listing them) *"We pray to many different Gods like their flowers, and we call religion our friend" (?) *"The world in which is emerging praises both mothers and virgins but in the end, despises mothers and despoils virgins" (Now isn't that a contradiction to be a fan of? This girl really needs a therapist) *"Fear is just the anticipation of pain whether it be mentally, physically emotionally or spiritually (Wow..just..wow...) *No limits, No boundaries*

Yes dear Sexymonica I had to deny you as an online friend. As much as I appreciate the bikini shot I don't think I need any more friends than I already have. Our relationship was short, but oh so sweet. Maybe the six thousand other guys you requested will be more accommodating to your online needs.

"MySpace is becoming part of the scene at school, so it's only going to increase as kids head back to school. Now the cliques are moving online." - Kim Komando

Makes the cartoon Dennis seem pretty mild.

"Camp counselor?" I asked.

"Yeah. It'll be fun," she said.

I thought about the request my girlfriend at the time made and it seemed like a good one. Her and I being camp counselors together for a couple of weeks seemed like a good idea. My best friend Nic would be there along with her friend Jen. We might enjoy it. I like kids and the outdoors so I signed up. My 16 year old mind had great visions of a time that would be fun for all involved.

And then I met Dennis, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

After a week of counselor training, which involved various teen antics, our batch of children arrived for their time with us. Some kids greeted me with hugs, some with shy waves, and some with sadness that they'd be separated from their parents. Most of them seemed like sweet kids and the week of being a camp counselor promised to be enjoyable.

Then drove up a beat up old station wagon. Out of the car appeared a couple who seemed like they leapt straight from the pages of Easyrider magazine. In tow was a small cute tyke, even for his tender age of 5. It was then I was introduced to Dennis.

"Hi Dennis," I chimed. "Welcome to Camp Singing Wind."

"Hi fatso," he yelled. The parents laughed while I stood in mild shock.

Dennis' folks made their leave and we sat the children in a circle. Nic and I chatted with the kids and listened to their stories about school, their summer so far, and how happy they are to be away from their annoying siblings.

Dennis for some reason decided to take off his shirt. I told him he needed to put his shirt back on. In a sweet voice with puppy dog eyes he asked me to help him.

"Sure thing," I said. I placed the shirt on the kid and was rewarded with a short jab in the eye.

"What possessed you to do that?" I responded. He giggled. "We don't hit people here, ever." He kept laughing.

We escorted the boys down to their cabin. Dennis kept running off so I took him by the hand and kept a firm grip as we made our journey. For reasons I can only explain as demonic possession Dennis grabbed my left testicle and pulled.

I dropped to the ground like a rock in serious pain. I could hardly breathe as Nic yanked Dennis out of my arm's reach. Probably a good idea as I might have pulled a Homer and strangled the child.

"What's wrong Erik? What's wrong?" chimed the rest of the kids who did not witness the violation of my genitals. Nic quite brilliantly corralled the children and decided to take them to the cabin himself as I laid there cursing under my breath.

Activities with Dennis proved to be a chore. Swimming was the worst.

Dennis couldn't swim so he needed someone to help him around the pool. Everytime Nic or I tried to carry him he would try and punch us. One of the girl counselors decided to intervene which he promptly removed her top. I grabbed him and scolded him for it, but the girl took pity on him and decided to give him another chance. I guess my scolding worked for he didn't do it again.

What he did later was much worse.

We were in the showers and he decided to scream "I see your teeny weeny. I see your teeny weeny" at everyone over and over again. Nic tried to calm him down while I watched over the rest of the children. A few moments went by and suddenly there was a relative quiet followed by blood curdling screams from the girls showers.

"Where's Dennis?" I asked Nic.

"Oh no," was his reply. This could not be good.

"Erik! Nic!" It was one of the girl counselors yelling for us. I go outside to find her dressed in nothing but a towel holding a naked Dennis.

"Uhh..oh..my...god," I said. "Did he..just..you know..."

She kind of smiled and asked me to try and keep a better eye on him as bolting into the girls shower was not appropriate. She was sympathetic to the plight of managing Damien..err..Dennis and did take it in good humor thankfully.

The problem with disciplining Dennis was not only the fact that he would always respond with a 'fuck you fatso' to everyone, but the leaders of the camp wouldn't let me do anything to try and get him to behave. Usual punishments I tried to implement like taking away privileges, dessert, lectures, time outs, etc. were constantly being undermined by my superiors. Dennis may have been a terror, but he was smart enough to know there was really nothing I could do to him.

This brings me to Dennis' vocabulary. I don't think I knew the 'f' word until maybe around 8 or 9, but not only was he aware of the word he used it on multiple occasions. Every time I tried to explain to him how we don't use that kind of language he'd respond with chanting 'fuck'.

Once we had some downtime with the kids and Nic and I let the children play at their leisure. Nic brought out a white trash car magazine which had the signature bikini clad woman on the cover. When Dennis saw this his eyes lit up and came running over yelling 'I know what I want. I want the pussy.' He then grabbed a pillow off his bunk and started to perform an unnatural act on it.

Here was Nic and I faced with a five year old humping a pillow. There was that moment of eerie surprise, like we just watched our first horror film. I finally pulled Dennis off the pillow and scolded him again. A counselor from another cabin, who had enough of the little anti-Christ, took him into his cabin and we all heard a bunch of muffled yelling from him and Dennis screaming 'fuck you fatso'.

There were many other misdeeds Dennis laid upon us all of which made me want to slowly torture whoever was responsible for conceiving and raising the bastard child. In all his mishaps I sort of took pity on him knowing that it was inevitably his parent's fault, but that didn't make my week go any easier.

I did have my moment of sweet revenge however. Nic was taking his daily allotted hour break and I watched the kids play. One child was a gentle giant who Dennis tormented on a regular basis. On this day though this mammoth kid decided he had enough.

Dennis came at him with a big stick and tried to hit him with it. Before I could do anything the big kid jumped on Dennis and threw numerous hammer fists on his chest. The demon child screamed profanities at him and pleaded for the beatings to stop, but the fists came down quicker and with more force every time Dennis yelled or hurled an insult.

I being the ever so mature teenager did what I felt was right. I stood and watched the plummeling of my small nemesis.

"Please...uhh..like...stop," I said softly. "Please...stop beating...him."

The big kid decided Dennis had enough. He stood over him with clenched fists and a red angry face.

"Leave me alone Dennis," he commanded.

"Fuck you fatso," Dennis replied with tears rolling down his cheeks. The kid swiftly pounced on him and continued his assault.

Finally I decided to intervene and stop the beating. Dennis stood up after crying his eyes out and apologized. He never bothered the big kid again.

Yeah I'm going to hell, but when I do I'm going to kick the living crap out of Dennis' father.

To this day I think of Dennis and what happened to him. I do hope some segment of society helped raise that child into something better than his parents had destined for him. He may be out committing crimes against God and man, but the optimist in me prays for a better life for him.

"I guess I was a brat. I had a lousy temper and the first day of school some kid pushed my head into the fountain." - Alan Ladd

No dad Elvis is not hiding out posing as Santa.

I went to Bellingham this weekend and visited my folks who had my nephews. The oldest, Gabe, finished a Greek mythology book, one that I used to read as a kid, and theological questions sprang to his developing mind.

"Grandma," he asked with a quizzical look in his eyes. "Why is Zeus a God? Is he like Jesus?"

"No Gabe," Mom answered. She then sat him down and explained to him the differences between the religions of old and her family's faith. A lesson that was familiar as I heard it as a young lad. Gabe and Corban listened to her with wonderment.

I then missed those days of youth. Those times when adults had all the answers, where a disagreement on the playground could easily be resolved with a do over, when Santa existed, and GI Joe was truly a real American hero.

Alas I grew old and came to the realization that Grace Kelly would not permanently be 26 years of age and awaiting my marriage proposal.

"I don't want to be married to someone who feels inferior to my success or because I make more money than he does." - Grace Kelly

Why the hell do we like the abuse?

I was reading a blog post earlier today concerning a girl who lived with a roommate who had an abusive boyfriend. The story was a sad one, but instead of having the Lifetime network ending of the girl beating the guy down with a random object and having him put in jail for life and afterwards being whisked off her feet by a knight in shining armor this girl decided to stay with the prick.

It reminded me of my own experience knowing a friend who was once a victim, or shall I say glutton?

I was working at a video store years ago and was trained by a girl named Donene (sp). She was a funny gal who enjoyed lively conversation and I will always remember the fact that she had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in person. I mean these were Locklear eyes and were just stunning.

The rest of her physical appearance though was cute, but she had a thrashy look that may remind of you of a Poison groupie. She had a long haired perm and a bad blonde dye job. Donene also sported 80s style jeans with big baggy sweatshirts and white trash jewelry. Her appearance fit the definition of what me and my friends would call "a six pack and a Blockbuster night girl", which, yeah, is crude on our part.

I enjoyed working with Donene as she always had great stories to tell. She was very open and we both had fun playing games and chatting it up during the slow periods.

I came into the store and said hello to her one day. Sometimes she would smile and say hello back, sometimes she would even give me a hug, sometimes she would flirt, but this time she wouldn't even look at me. Not a glance.

"What's wrong kid?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said still looking at the floor.

"Don't give me that," I pestered. "Tell me what's up in Donene's world."

She looked up at me and her face displayed two black eyes. I was stunned and didn't know what to say. Did she get into an accident? What?

"He hit me," she said in a meek voice.

"He hit you?" I asked. I was still under the pain of shock hearing this.

"Yeah."

"Why? What happened?"

"We started fighting and I tried to leave. He threw a pot at me and grabbed me to I couldn't leave." At that point she showed me some bruises on her arm.

"And?" I said.

"And then he hit me a couple of times. I finally got away from him and got out of there."

"Where did you stay last night?"

"In my car."

She did not call the police even under my intense badgering. She kept making excuses for his behavior and would hear none of my offers to go over and show the guy how men really fight. Donene did say that this time she would leave him for good.

"This time?" I asked with even more shock. "How many times has this happened?"

"A few," she sheepishly replied.

"Dear God and you still stuck with him. Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Cause I love him."

"Look so does Jesus, but even the savior sends people to eternal torment."

"I love him Erik. You don't know him like I do."

"And you don't know him like I do either. He's an emotional cripple, a coward, and undeserving of your or anyone's love."

"He's been through a lot."

"So have a lot of people. Most don't beat their girlfriends."

The conversation ended with her agreeing to end it with him for good. I was relieved to hear this and as time went on she seemed to be perking up. Instead of wearing the baggy sweatshirts she wore more flattering attire. It was then I found out she wore such huge clothing to cover up the many bruises she endured.

She was quick to jump on the dating scene and had no problem finding guys to give her attention. Having sexy eyes and an ample rack will do that.

Donene met a few guys. Guys with good jobs and who treated her with lavish affection. Some would send her flowers at work. Some would stop by and bring her lunch. No matter how much attention these guys gave her she always found some excuse for breaking it off with them.

"He's too nice," was a phrase I heard often when she mentioned those guys. Shivers hit me when she said this. A few times I've heard this line from possible girlfriends who were basically saying if I treated them like dog shit they'd be all over me. For some reason I could never bring myself to look at a woman as dirt and for this I heard the 'too nice' speech while they planned to get back together with their ex that neglected them.

Months later Donene eventually got back together with the abuser stating she felt comfortable with him. I don't know how cozy I'd be while deflecting punches from my significant other on a regular basis, but I imagine she had her own issues as well. I did feel sorry for her for it seemed like every man in her childhood and teen years either neglected her or outright used her. I have no idea what that's like, nor will I even try to understand the pain associated with her life.

I will never figure out why people are so attracted to misery.

"It's just a show. It's not the end of Western Civilization. It's chewing gum." - Jerry Springer

Charles Foster Kane lectures you on freedom.

I'm a big Orson Welles fan, but I'm not one to consider him a genius. It's sad that his career went from making one of the best American films ever to hawking bad wine and narrating Nostradamus documentaries.

He has done such a huge body of work that's still relevant to this day. I came across this find, which can be viewed below, that was made years ago, but it's message is arguably more important now then ever. It's almost spooky.

"Everybody denies I am a genius - but nobody ever called me one!" - Orson Welles

The quick road to spirituality.

Scientists have now discovered that most people who do mushrooms claim to have a spiritual experience. Psilocybin, the active ingredient in shrooms, apparently gives users a mystical trip. Why this is news I don't know.

They could have simply done a poll of any group of dirty hippies and the majority would claim the same. You could not ask a random person, say a blogger, who's above such things as eating fungi and thinking that Liza Minelli was riding an ostrich playing a trombone and believing the horrid event was occurring right behind him. Said blogger would never add nitrous to a trip and was suddenly whisked away to Mario world while his friends were shooting fireballs. Yes that blogger, whoever they may be, would not know a thing about it.

"In the 1920s, Penn State became the first land-grant college to initiate a comprehensive mushroom research program." - Don Sherwood

Magic mushrooms really cause 'spiritual' experiences

I would so fire my campaign manager.

The Lyndon Johnson campaign released a stunning commercial depicting a young girl picking a flower and counting each petal. The ad then launched into a countdown and the audience was shown an image of a mushroom cloud. A voiceover then commenced talking about how the stakes were high in this campaign and the ad suggested that Johnson's rival, Barry Goldwater, may start a nuclear holocaust if elected.

The campaign ad launched a new era of televised politics. Critics back then blasted the commercial calling it tasteless to assume Goldwater may be a war monger. Although people backed then probably assumed television would bombard them with terrible ads they probably never thought it stoop to such an aesthetic low as the commerical I viewed today.

Dennis Ramsussen's campaign released an ad featuring a South Park like animated figure singing about how he needs a moderate canidate who's in touch with the American people. Granted I identify with the message, but for the love of Destro did the song have to be so painful?

Razzmania:



Daisy Girl ad:



"We need to get past partisan arguments over whether we should have big government or small government. What America needs is smart government." - Dennis Rasmussen

Avast ye Maoist swabs.

China has banned Pirates of the Caribbean 2 allegedly because of it's portrayal of human cannibalism. I haven't seen the film, nor will I rush out to do so, but I imagine the portrayal is cartoonish enough that it won't make the proletariat openly revolt and eat members of China's parliament. I'd be a poor dictator.

Ironic that there will probably be thousands of bootlegged copies of the film available on Hong Kong's street markets.

"When I was about 5 I think, I desperately wanted to be a pirate and have the hat and everything." - Keira Knightley

China sinks Dead Man's Chest

In order to receive a career boost you must be topless.

Anne Hathaway believes her career matured due to her topless scene in Brokeback Mountain. Now I'm all for Anne Hathaway getting naked, but doesn't it seem strange that only in Hollywood can someone rip off their shirt in front of millions of viewers and suddenly their worth more money?

Hmm..maybe this could work in politics. If only Bush Sr. appeared shirtless in the 92 Republican convention maybe the world body politic would be different.

It's funny how Anne is rewarded for good nudity and my weekly work activity of dropping trou and swinging my manhood like a tassel is frowned upon.

"I think the topless scene in 'Brokeback Mountain' was the real departure! 'The Princess Diaries' came out five years ago and if a girl aged twelve watched that then she might watch my new movie now. It's lovely to think that my audience is growing up with me." - Anne Hathaway

Topless Scene Moved Anne Hathaway's Career in New Direction

Overrated films part 16.

The Matrix has universal appeal and for obvious reasons. The special effects, action, dime store philosophy, and mild S&M costumes makes it a favorite amongst gamers, sci-fi geeks, action movie fans, and suedo-intellectuals. Oh and don't forget anyone who's dabbled in hallucinogens at least once. Of course I would never do something like that.

The film's huge success sparked a new interest in sci-fi. Ironically it starred Keanu Reeves who's previous sci-fi flick, the horrendous Johnny Mnemonic, almost killed any fanfare associated with the genre.

The main problem I have with this film, which claims to have numerous philosophical and religious analogies, is that the violence in it was a little too much even for my tastes. In one of it's most famous scenes Neo and Trinity decide to storm a building and kill a bunch of security guards. What the security guards did to them or anyone I don't know, but they needed to die and the audience was supposed to revel in it. Granted the scene looks really good and most people didn't even give a second thought as to why the duo with all their powers could have whisked their way into the building to the place they needed to go without leaving behind a senseless death toll.

That's the power of The Matrix. Visually it's so impressive that everyone ignores it's numerous flaws and enjoys the mindless action piece that it is. The cult of Neo was born and everyone discussed the deeper meanings they attribute to the taking of the red pill. It's truly an example of powerful cinema. The visuals in the film, as well as the cool concept, are stunning enough to make you look past the atrocious acting and banal dialogue. It looks so good guys kept trying to convince me that Trinity is hot. That's something I still don't get.

You're probably thinking I'm an idiot for missing some hokey dialogue sequence that explains the importance of killing innocent civilians for the purpose of Neo's mission, but please spare me that bullshit.

I've never considered the film to be all that bad, but after viewing it's two terrible sequels one would easily consider The Matrix to be a cinematic masterpiece.

The Matrix scene I was referring to:



"It's astonishing that so much money, talent, technical expertise and visual imagination can be put in the service of something so stupid." - Bob Graham

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Given that technology has become so relatively inexpensive many amateur filmmakers are able to create and distribute their films with much greater ease than it was say twenty years ago. While there are many good short films that are shown on the net and at festivals there are certainly far more bad ones. I've watched many a terrible film, some even created by myself, and wondered if the next generation of directors were suffering from over exposure of inarticulate television and music.

The movie show below is an example of comedy at it's finest. I haven't laughed this hard in a while. I think you'll enjoy it too.



"Hollywood is still the mecca for good or bad, but it isn't the beginning or end for filmmaking." -Robert Duvall

I'm a lucky man, but that doesn't mean I won't complain.

I just stood outside here at work listening to the fireworks. I couldn't see any being stuck in the hills, but the loud booms were enjoyable enough. It made me jealous to think that the Pretty Girl, my friends, and family were all sitting around enjoying the sights and smells of our Independence Day as I was stuck at work answering calls from disgruntled customers half way around the world.

I am blessed to have this job as it is a good one; however it's days like these that make me question if my work-life balance is worth the extra pay I get to take a graveyard shift. When you work nights you have to make many sacrifices, sleep being the main one, in order to enjoy a social life.

Imagine if you will trying to plan a dinner with friends. If you're a 9-5er it's pretty simple. Take a day out of any seven and you can attend such an event with ease. When you work a 4x10 grave shift you have three days to choose from. Then you have to factor in seeing the rest of your friends and family. Alone time does not exist for you.

When I have such thoughts about how I sometimes loathe the business I have chosen I think back to a rafting trip I took years ago. I went into an outhouse near the launch site which had a sign that said "Please do not throw pop cans in here. They are difficult to remove." Whoever has that job seriously needs to consider if removing aluminum from human waste is really an enriching career.

Then again I could find work assisting supermodels into swimwear, but I'll count my blessings.

"Those who won our independence… valued liberty as an end and as a means. They believed liberty to be the secret of happiness and courage to be the secret of liberty." - Louis D. Brandeis

Fireworks game