So I'm driving to work this morning all tired and my belly starts making it's early calls for some breakfast. While my stomach is rumbling loudly I hear Seether's cover of 'Careless Whisper' come blaring over the stereo.
This will not do.
With my sleep schedule all kinds of sideways due to a recent hospital stay my mental condition may be what one would call a little off. I kept the stereo at it's present station and started humming along with the tune. Then I started making up my own lyrics.
"I'm never going to fart again...deadly gas has got no rhythm...so it's easy to pretend...constipation is a rule...should've known better than to eat some cheese...and wasted toots have smelled much better...so I'm never gonna fart again...the way I did in front of youuuuuuuu..."
I need coffee.
"Even though it wasn't written about an optimistic experience, I opted to see a positive in the situation. Rather than my usual reaction, which would be to get all piss-y and moan-y about it." - Shaun Morgan
2 am this morning. I awake to nauseating pains in my belly. So sharp it felt like someone took a knife to it. I try to walk it off figuring it would just go away, load up on some Pepto, then laid back into bed.
It hurt to even lie down.
3 am. I sprang to the toilet and release all contents of my stomach. I text my friend, who served me fajitas that night, and asked if she was feeling ill. She texted me back saying she was fine so obviously it wasn't food poisoning.
4 am. My friend takes me to the hospital. Since no one else was there they immediately tend to me. My blood pressure was through the roof the pain was so bad. They quickly drug me up with morphine and give my body saline. Apparently I was so dehydrated the bag didn't last long.
5 am. The morphine had me in a deep slumber with some of the oddest dreams I ever had. I do recall driving in a big city with the skyscrapers swaying to the beat of Elton John, until I was awoke by a nurse who took more blood out of me.
6 am. The doctor comes back and says the blood work showed nothing serious and that he figured it was a one time thing possibly due to stress. He makes his recommendations for diet in the next month, which is easy considering I eat most of what he told me to anyways. After the nurse confuses my friend for my spouse she gives me the low down on prescriptions and they release me.
7 am. I'm home dreaming of being in a field with my old friend Shawn and we were talking about how the Raisin Bran sun should stop tossing midgets at cars. It took many hours for the drug to wear off.
That was my Tuesday morning. I hope everyone else had a better one.
"Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol or morphine or idealism." - Carl Jung
Amy's birthday. Historically it's always been a fun event and this year was no different. Corey, Eli, and myself joined her for her favorite activity ever and that is karaoke.
Yes I said karaoke.
The four of us enter Pegasus restaurant and immediately soaked in the atmosphere. It's a small bar with an eclectic group representing all sorts of racial and economic classes. There were forty somethings wearing jean shorts and t-shirts displaying corny humor, young adults with well pressed shirts, chunky females with tight fitting clothing, and various types of cougars.
The diversity of the crowd was amazing. All were represented there and were ready to set aside the drudgery of their daily lives to have their moment to shine. This was karaoke.
Amy is a regular there and knew everyone in the bar and I got to meet some interesting folk. One man who stood out was in his mid 50s, long stringy hair and an unkempt beard, skinny frame, and he had the look of someone who owned and cherished each and every Foghat album. He wore a Jack Daniels t-shirt with a slogan on the back that stated "Support Southern Rock". He called himself Southern Rocker Bill and introduced himself as such as he kept his gaze never far from Eli's cleavage.
Yes he sang some Skynyrd.
As we drank more and made conversation one gentleman decided to sing Duran Duran's 'Hungry Like the Wolf'. It was a horrible rendition as he was constantly two lines behind and it sounded awful. What we failed to realize is that the man was disabled until Amy told us. We felt like we were going to hell making fun of it, but she looked at me and told me to think of it like my old friend Kevin and how he used to sing his crowd pleasing renditions of Sinatra tunes. I would have given anything right then to see him sing once again.
I miss you Kevin.
Given the guy's lack of talent he was still having a great time and it was nice to see. The bar sang along with him, granted at a better pace, and he smiled as he handed the mic back to the DJ.
Amy sang quite a few songs and did quite well, but when she asked us if we would sing none complied. Knowing full well that there was not a chance Eli or Corey would grab the mic I decided that enough alcohol was flowing through me. I open the lists of songs and browse through.
Oh man they have it. This may not go over well. Eh I’ll do it anyways.
I hand the slip to the DJ and after some time he announces that it’s my time to come and holler. Long time readers will probably guess what I sang, but for those who are new to ‘One Bad Apple’ I’ll just display the song below:
Most got a good laugh out of it after the initial shock. It seemed to go over well.
Finally the DJ stated the amateur renditions of pop songs would be over for the night and invited us to come again. Then he started playing the Numa Numa song which sent many to start throwing their arms in the air and copying their favorite internet celebrity.
An older lady came up to me and punched me in the arm.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“Who knew?” she replied.
“Knew what?”
“That you could sing!”
“Eh, I did.”
She just walked off.
People paid their tabs and made their way out of the establishment. The night was done and good times were had by many. I looked at Eli and Corey and just realized we sat through an entire night of karaoke for our friend Amy. In a self congratulatory fashion I declared us the best friends ever.
“If people can watch this new video, enjoy it and get a laugh out of it, then I’m happy with that.” - Gary Brolsma
Most who know me well understand that I'm a news junkie. On my way to work I'll listen to NPR and then unwind at the end of the day with some commentary from Chris Matthews on our nation's body politic and Obama love. Of course I read some obscure, funny, and often bizarre stories brought to the public by Fark. It's my reality television.
Some of the reporting I hear angers me, such as the current nuclear situation with Iran and North Korea, so after hearing enough about the worlds problems I'll tune into fluff pieces and human interest stories. One particular kind of news event really cheers me up when I'm feeling low and that happened in my area.
A good Samaritan in Tacoma saw a car on the side of the road that looked to be broken down. The 80 something man pulled over to offer assistance only to be attacked by the two occupants of the vehicle. The WWII veteran decided to do the right thing and kick the living crap out of them before they fled. Officers got a description of the two from an eyewitness and informed the old man that they were caught as he was lying in a hospital tending his wounds.
I love it when crooks get their comeuppance by the geriatric set. Seriously every time I hear a story like this I just smile. Harassing the elderly is about as low as one can get, but that generation lived through a world war and a depression. They are not to be trifled with.
I sometimes wonder how our pansy generation will be when we get old. Soft are we today with our excuses not to be fit and our constant worship of mildly watchable television. When we get old the young will prey on us like vultures. We'll call ourselves the victims of miscreant youth, but we'll only have ourselves to blame.
"When I opened the door, he started toward me and I kicked him in the balls," - Ted Mazetier
Whenever I hear a clip of a song or something spawns to my memory I let the power of Youtube compel me. Finding most music is a pretty simple task; however with some older music it's not that easy. Sure I can find anything done by Quiet Riot within a few clicks, but when I want to listen to something older or more obscure I have to be patient.
Why is it that Youtube users feel compelled to post numerous videos of the C&C Music Factory? Is it because they're mastery and full of jams that have to be pumped....
I can't believe I remember that.
I heard an old Dinah Washington song on some commercial the other day and thought it would be a great addition to Thursday Music. After much searching the best I could come up with is some Harry Potter video set to the tune. Not only that, but whoever posted it felt compelled to start it with another more popular song of hers. I'm not sure why either.
Still it's worth a listen. So today folks I bring you 'Relax Max'.
"There is only one heaven, one earth and one queen (me) Queen Elizabeth is an impostor." - Dinah Washington
"You know what Corey?" I said. "I'm really disappointed that C Thomas Howell didn't have a bigger career."
"Seriously dude," he replied. "I have no idea where that came from. That's one of the most random things I've ever heard you say."
That's saying quite a bit.
Friday afternoon him and I pile into his car to make the few hour journey to Spokane to visit Eli's folks. The drive through the mountains was beautiful and we had a good time with some guy talk. While a lot of our conversations are normally political we quickly delved into the really important topics.
"You know who I now find really hot," he said? "It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I never understood what you saw in her before, but now I think she's smoking."
"Who?" I asked.
"Heather Graham," he replied. "I started looking up the American Woman video and stuff. She..is..hot."
I'm glad my friend has seen the light.
After more hours of driving and random conversations we finally arrive to Spokane, but had no idea where we were going as we got quite a head start on Eli and Andrea. So we're in a strange town with no idea where our intended destination was. Where do we go? A bar of course.
Finally the girls show up and we followed them to Eli's folks. Her parents greeted us at the door at some unholy hour and made us feel very welcome. They have a beautiful home with a spectacular view that I got to soak in for an hour before bedtime.
The following day we consumed a great breakfast and headed out to Cordelain Idaho. A beautiful town it is. We strolled along their main drag till Corey came up to me.
"Did you see that?" he asked with a giddy smile.
"No," I said. "What?"
"Eli's Dad and I just watched that cute biker chick flash her boyfriend."
Note to self: Never walk at a brisk pace past a bar occupied by motorcycle enthusiasts.
Corey later started to ask Don if he witnessed the same event. The conversation went:
"So sir I have to ask. Did you see...."
"....yes I did."
It's amazing how men communicate about topless women.
We follow the ladies into art galleries and antique stores which was more fun than I assumed it would be. I came across a painting that almost moved me to tears. Since I had friends around I held my composure of course. Can't have anyone thinking that I'm sensitive pony tail man without the bad hair. I've got a reputation to uphold after all. I seriously considered purchasing it even with the six thousand dollar price tag.
Browsing the antique stores was fun and depressing at the same time. I realized that a lot of the toys I played with as a child are now considered old enough to collect dust in someones shop. This was not something I would expect at my age, but I guess I can't fight the fact that I'm growing older.
As I looked in the cases I saw a salt and pepper shaker set that my parents owned when I was little. I hadn't thought of them in years, but I instantly recognized them.
I doubt the NAACP would approve of my parents' choice in dispensers.
Later that evening we had a great dinner and Eli's father gave us free reign of his liquor. He obviously never understood how much the four of us can put down. It was a fun time as each of us took turns looking up music on Corey's Iphone and playing it for all to hear.
Yes I did choose Poison's 'Fallen Angel' once. I was drunk. Deal with it.
The next day we toured around Spokane Falls which was very impressive. As mature adults we rode the carousel and caught the rings. We even took a cool gondola ride over the falls.
Next up on the agenda was house hunting. Everyone was curious about the market in the area so we drove around and did some pricing. All of us saw some beautiful homes at very affordable rates. Most of these homes would go for triple the prices in Seattle.
Corey suggested that him and I move there, pretend we're a gay couple, and buy one of these palaces as we can definitely afford it. I didn't have the heart to tell that he would so be the bitch.
It actually got me to thinking about my place in life. I live way under my means, cause I don't feel the need to live the high life without sharing it with somebody. And that's the problem. I'm 34 years old and still no one has thought it was a good idea to be my bride. Melancholy thoughts started swimming through my head and as enjoyable as the time was I felt rather down.
That all changed when we got back to Eli's folks and ate another amazing home cooked meal. The drive home was long and exhausting and it's taking it's toll on me today, but it was certainly worth it.
"Most common were the mammy and tom caricatures, whose simple, desexualized appearance suggested trustworthiness in areas of domestic & servant labor. Other items reflected the mainstream acceptance of the derogatory coon caricature. Racist cookie jars, salt & pepper shakers, and many other household items can still be found in many older American households today." - Authentichistory.com
The teabagging is over, well the protests anyways, and just like most demonstrations most of the nation feels a growing sense of 'meh' and went about their lives. Granted there were quite a few who publicly voiced their disdain for the tax code and the current administration and it's impact may be small.
That of course hasn't stopped the media from covering it non-stop like it was a missing white kid. Most of the coverage has been about what one would expect depending on what channel you tune into, but Olberman out did himself with his guest Janeane Garofalo.
Keith started with a video displaying how misguided some of the protester's' anger may be directed upon. Then he introduces Garofalo to discuss the nature of the demonstrators. Right out of the gate she calls them simpleton redneck racists and discusses the brain physiology of Republicans and how it's inferior to those on the left.
Now she's a comedian and I assumed at first she was just trying to be funny, but she kept hammering the points home through out the entire segment that I was left to wonder.
It's come to this.
I was afraid the level of discourse would suffer due to people crying racism at any criticism for the Obama administration and here it is. Tongue in cheek or not what Garofalo did was Coulterish. To assume that these teabag protesters somehow automatically harbor prejudicial tendencies because they disagree with the President's policy...well...I really don't have to get into it.
While I wasn't surprised by her words what bothered me more is that Olberman would not try and stop that kind of nonsense on his show. Since he's made a career out of calling talking heads out on their outrageous statements you would think he would want the same standard for Countdown.
Now it may be true that some in the crowds don't like the idea of man who's just as white as he is black occupying the White House, but to carry on a conversation labeling all of them as racist and somehow mentally deficient is crass. I agree that a lot of the conversation at these demonstrations are misguided, but I certainly wouldn't equate all of them with the Klan.
Now I know a lot of you may be saying 'but...but...Coulter/Limbaugh/O'Reilly said.....' Yes I know the right's chosen entertainers say sick stuff all the time to help generate ratings and/or book sales, but this has got to end. Both sides should be held for the words they broadcast. I'll defend to the death their right to say it, but I will not sit and make excuses for such behavior.
Extremists will always rule the day when it comes to protests and sadly the same kind of rhetoric has become the standard for political talking heads.
"I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth." - Janeane Garofalo
As I watch my nephews grow older they constantly ask me to take them to events that they haven't had the opportunity to witness. I usually take them to comic book films that are age appropriate, minor league sports, and places such as the zoo and the Pacific Science Center.
Now they want to go to professional sports, such as watching the Mariners. I'm not a fan of baseball, but I'll be happy to show the two a good time. The oldest nephew wants to see the G.I. Joe movie to which my father demanded I take them as he didn't want to sit through it.
I started journeying down memory lane and recalling all the things my own father took me to, such as movies, sports, etc. Granted he had fun watching me enjoy myself, but he would never be caught dead attending most of them.
My mother had a lot to do with it. She'd see a commercial on TV and look at my dad and suggest he take me to whatever they were advertising. She appreciated father/son bonding and encouraged our activities together. On top of all that I'm sure she was excited just to get us out of the house. Without us wrestling around and breaking stuff she got some peace.
Dad would often take me to movies. Some of them we both enjoyed (National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, The Hunt for Red October), but there were many he absolutely hated. Below are some of the movies my father struggled through in the theatre for my benefit:
Leonard Part 6: I think this is one of the few films that both he and I equally hated. Even it's star Bill Cosby went on the talk show circuit and recommended that people not see this. I don't even recall the plot anymore and that's probably for the best.
No Holds Barred: I was a huge fan of pro-wrestling. My dad was not. Still he took my friend Shawn and I to this. Really this was awful. It was so bad that even Hulk Hogan had a difficult time with acting even though he was playing a wrestler. Films don't get much more white trash than this.
To make matters worse there was some redneck couple in the audience who were clearly drunk and hooting and hollering through out the movie.
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure: He fell asleep during this one. Seriously.
The Dirt Bike Kid: It's a cute kid's movie, but has no appeal to adults whatsoever. Starring Peter Billingsley it's the story of a child who buys himself a motorcycle that's magic and somehow it helps him save his beloved baseball field. Yeah....
Better Off Dead: Quite possibly my favorite 80s comedy; however the humor was lost on my father. The only thing he said about it when we walked out of the theatre was regarding how weird he thought it was. Till this day it's the movie I quote the most.
If I ever find anyone dumb enough to marry me and conceive children I may have to suffer through equally banal entertainment, but if my kid enjoys those memories as much as I do it'll be worth it.
"It is a wise father that knows his own child." - William Shakespeare
"You know," he said. "I thought about blogging, but I can't get over the narcissism of it."
"Really," I replied. "But isn't any form of communication, whether it be through anything creative or simply telling a story amongst friends, narcissistic?"
"True."
He asked me some questions about my blogging experience and it got me to thinking about why I started broadcasting my thoughts to the masses.
"So why don't you blog about politics more," he asked. "Isn't that your passion?"
"I do," I replied. "In fact when this blog started it was mostly about news and politics, but I ran out of things to say really when it came to issues of public discourse. Remember Crooks and Liars? It was a great blog for a while, but then they started posting nothing but videos about how they feel a certain politician sucks. Besides I think my political views are only interesting to me."
"I really want to blog," he said. "But I'm not sure what I would write about. I'd like to do one on politics."
Blogging can be addicting. I've told myself many times I'll quit, but like a toothless meth addict I always come back to the crack house. I'm not sure exactly why that is. Do I really love the attention? Does sharing my thoughts to everyone really matter in the end?
I guess I may never figure it out, but I did have some advice for my friend who may or may not share his opinions.
"Keep it fun," I said. "Once it stops being fun then it becomes a chore. And never take it too seriously."
My ramblings here are nothing profound I know. My contribution to the internet is little, but I'd like to think that having this daily creative outlet enriches my life. I've seen blogs come and go. Most amateur blogs maybe last a year only to mysteriously disappear usually due to the fact most run out of things to say or just simply get bored.
It's been said that this blog is not a good representation of me. Some say that is actually a compliment. That may be true as I can hardly tell a difference. If you choose to read blogs make sure you understand that it's only he side of life they choose to tell and not the actual reality they may inhabit. Remember autobiographies are more fiction than fact. They're just told through our often skewed senses.
But aspiring bloggers who actually have a passion for writing should be advised that content is everywhere. Inspiration can come in many forms. Find it. Write.
"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." - Hunter S. Thompson
This year's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees have been announced and as usual nobody is happy with the results. With Run DMC, Jeff Beck, and Metallica being honored, fans of modern music are constantly whining about their own favorites that they claim need to be put on the pedestal.
Music, like any art, is subjective and rock and roll is constantly appealing to the lowest common denominator of aesthetic values. In my opinion any Hall of Fame for music is completely worthless and juvenile, but that still won't stop Rush and Stevie Ray Vaughn fans from bellyaching.
Does anyone remember the 200+ Kiss fans who protested a couple years ago claiming the gimmicky act was deserving of being noted as good musicians? Seriously. These people took time from their lives to display their passion for a band who can hardly play. Imagine if that energy was directed elsewhere, like something that actually matters?
Yeah I don't get why Run DMC is being honored when many bands are being overlooked, but really it won't make any difference in my enjoyment of them. Unlike professional athletes it's not like these musicians can't continue their careers. I'm not sure what the induction process is, but I'd be fine with the institution simply not existing.
You'll all agree with me when Nickleback gets in there. Yes you know it'll happen.
I played pub trivia the other night where they had a section which they played either Beethoven or Mozart and you had to guess which composed the piece. My friend commented on how the music industry would never support anything like this today. I disagreed. The record labels would certainly dish out any work like this if only the public would be interested. Instead music fans continue to purchase the Jonas Brothers and claim the Dave Matthews Band to be geniuses. Sigh.
Okay enough ranting. I'll just post some Beethoven, which I used to blare in my car while traveling at high speeds.
"Art! Who comprehends her? With whom can one consult concerning this great goddess?" - Ludwig van Beethoven
I don't like baseball and that doesn't make me a bad person.
There I said it.
I'll occasionally go to a game with friends, at least once a year, and enjoy the camaraderie amongst over priced beer, bad food, and the cheers of the crowd. Still every time I bring up the fact that I'd rather watch reruns of the Golden Girls than watch baseball on TV I always get the inevitable question of why.
Well I'll tell you whether you want to hear it or not.
My grandfather was a huge fan of the national past time. He was always tuned in and cheering the players. I tired to get into it, but I just couldn't. I sat there with him and kept thinking about how I'm supposed to get excited about a batter who may or may not hit a ball after a pitcher spends what seems like 37 minutes deciding which pitch to throw.
My grandad liked other sports that I enjoy, such as boxing and football, but I believe he was always disappointed in my lack of passion for baseball. My other grandfather was equally upset at the fact that I couldn't stand watching NASCAR.
Hunter S Thompson once wrote a column for ESPN about how to make the game more exciting. Of course it's tongue in cheek, but it actually makes some sense. Below are a few things the MLB should add to the game to attract more to the sport.
1. Make the game more physical. Fielders will no longer be allowed to tag someone out. If a runner is on their way to the base the defense must tackle and take them to the ground in order for them to be called out. This will strengthen the diversity of athleticism, something baseball suffers from. 2. If a pitcher takes forever to communicate with the catcher about which pitch to throw then stiffer penalties will be in order. 3. Random land mine in the field. 4. Reduce the innings to seven. There is no reason this repetitive non-sport needs to go on for nine innings. 5. Shorten the season. This will stop making the first couple of months useless. 6. All playoffs series will only have a total of three games. Again no reason to make the first game count for nothing. 7. If a player charges the mound they must stop fighting like they're a fifth grader on the school yard. If you're going to confront a player physically you must know how to at least throw a decent punch. For every candy ass hay maker you throw the fines will increase to $5,000 per.
Now I get some decent arguments as to why I should enjoy baseball, such as:
1. There's a lot of strategy to the game - This I'm aware of, but that's not limited to baseball. There's more thinking in chess and even more planning in MMA. I love chess, but I'll never watch it. I get that most people not involved in martial arts in any manner will not enjoy sport fighting, partially because they won't get a lot of the cerebral aspects of the event, but one thing MMA has on MLB is far more athletic ability. Still it's a fair argument. 2. The feel of a homerun is exciting - This is true, but after the whole steroid movement in the mid 90s it's hardly an uncommon occurrence anymore. 3. You just don't get it you mindless numskull - Probably the best argument made to date.
Now I don't look down on people for watching the past time. If they enjoy it so be it. It's just something I've never understood.
"I'm not an athlete. I'm a professional baseball player." - John Kruk
What was looking to be a slow weekend changed instantly with the result of a text message.
"You willing to be kidnapped?"
Not sure how you can call it abduction when I'll go willingly.
Eli and Tracy pick me up for a picnic in the park. Promising good food, which they delivered on, I agreed it would be fun. We sat around and drank wine in public effectively giving the law the finger.
Having decided we hadn't had enough to drink we head to a pub that claims to be Irish, but it's about as Celtic as Taco Bell is Mexican. We sat and ordered our drinks, but were blindsided by an announcement from a hippie lady who took up the mic. She told everyone that we were to be entertained by belly dancers.
Stay with me folks. Belly dancers. At an Irish Pub. In Renton.
Okay that must be as surreal to read as it was to write.
The hippie woman was belting out the tunes on a synthesizer while accompanied by a bongo drum. The music was ok, but belly dancing music always makes me start to hum 'There's a Place in France where the Naked Lady Stands.'
Wait. Is there another title for that song?
After a nice cup of jo we decided to partake in a common activity of older mature adults. We went to play miniature golf. With a nice bit of alcohol flowing in our bloodstream we were enjoying the game until Eli took a spectacular spill on the turf. Taking it in good humor she laughed along with us, but it did end up hurting her wrist. It was the first time I ever witnessed a mini-golf injury.
We then purchased some frozen peas and came home to play some Trivial Pursuit and Guitar Hero Metallica. To top off the evening we watched some quality television and that was flipping between Rock of Love and Roadhouse. It couldn't be more white trash fun if we had a deep fryer and a bathroom meth lab.
I like being kidnapped.
"The way to screw up somebody's life is to give them what they want." - Patrick Swayze
My grandfather was a model train fanatic. He once held the title of president of the largest miniature train club west of the Mississippi, a fact he often reminded everyone who was within earshot. He once rented a warehouse for an enormous scale railroad which at the time was a record holder.
While some may consider his hobby unhealthy as it sucked up most of his time and attention I actually liked hearing his tales of being a conductor of toy trains. He, like many artists, got to play God in creating his idyllic world of beautiful scenery, Rockewellian towns, and modern transportation that was actually more efficient than its real life counterpart. When my Grandad spoke of those times his smile would say more about the joy he felt about his hobby more so than his words.
One boy was a huge fan of Showbiz Pizza and its animatronic band called Rock-afire Explosion. Similar to the Chuck E Cheese Pizza Time Players they entertained the young lad by doing cover tunes of various hits while children consumed greasy food and played at the arcade.
That boy grew to be a man, but his love for that band never died. As most are aware men never really grow up. After hearing that his favorite restaurant chain from his youth was dwindling away he refused to let the band go the way of the dodo. He bought a Rock-afire Explosion band from the inventor and set it up on his property. Now Chris Trash funds his hobby by having fans bid on songs for the Rock-afire Explosion to perform. He syncs the robots with the songs and posts videos of it on YouTube. It became so popular a documentary film has been recently released about his experience.
While again this may seem like a complete waste of time for most, but I smile at this man's attempt to never let go of his childhood. If only all of us had such passion for the things and people in our lives. Think of how much more enriching our short experience on this Earth would be. Many of us have our labors of love. Most must be fought hard for to see any success and more often than not it's worth it.
So today dear readers I bring you the Rock-afire Explosion belting out Usher's 'Love in this Club'.
“These are my children. If they’re hurt, I want to take care of them, if they’re not doing right, I want to make them right.” - Chris Trash
So I'm driving to work this morning all tired and my belly starts making it's early calls for some breakfast. While my stomach is rumbling loudly I hear Seether's cover of 'Careless Whisper' come blaring over the stereo.
Whenever I hear a clip of a song or something spawns to my memory I let the power of 
I'm glad my friend has seen the light.
Leonard Part 6: I think this is one of the few films that both he and I equally hated. Even it's star Bill Cosby went on the talk show circuit and recommended that people not see this. I don't even recall the plot anymore and that's probably for the best.
No Holds Barred: I was a huge fan of pro-wrestling. My dad was not. Still he took my friend Shawn and I to this. Really this was awful. It was so bad that even Hulk Hogan had a difficult time with acting even though he was playing a wrestler. Films don't get much more white trash than this.
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure: He fell asleep during this one. Seriously.
The Dirt Bike Kid: It's a cute kid's movie, but has no appeal to adults whatsoever. Starring Peter 
Better Off Dead: Quite possibly my favorite 80s comedy; however the humor was lost on my father. The only thing he said about it when we walked out of the theatre was regarding how weird he thought it was. Till this day it's the movie I quote the most.
"You know," he said. "I thought about blogging, but I can't get over the narcissism of it."
