This blog is no more, but I have a new one located here.
This blog is no more, but I have a new one located here.
It's my one day off in between 8 days of working, but I'm taking some time to post because I want to get this blog going again. So without further delay . . . . . . .
I've been at my new job at American Color Graphics for about a week now, and here are some factoids, observations, concerns, et cetera, about what I've witnessed thus far.
I'm sure that you've heard by now, but how can I not write about this? During a hunting outing in Texas over the weekend, the Vice-President of the United States, Dick Cheney, shot a 78 year-old friend. With a shotgun. And he is not a tortoise or anything like that. He's a human. Apparently the gentlemen had fallen behind the other hunters and was coming up behind them when Cheney turned to follow a quail in flight and fired, apparently missing the quail, but hitting the larger game, Harry Whittington, a lawyer and prominent Republican from Texas, in the face, shoulder and chest. According to the owner of the property upon which they were hunting, Whittington was "peppered pretty good" by the shot discharged from the Vice-President's gun. Well, as we can can see, this is hilarious. But what's even funnier is the reaction, or lack thereof, from the White House about this incident, and the delicate way that it is being handled. This incident happened on Saturday, but was not reported until Sunday, and not by the White House or by the Vice-President's office, but by a local journalist in Corpus Christi, Texas, who spoke with the owner of the ranch. Also, it is being said that Whittington was hit by "pellets," rather than that he was shot by a shotgun, making it sound like he was hit with a couple pops from a bb gun or air pistol.
Something was brought to my attention yesterday that sounded so ridiculous I just had to share it. Unless you've been living under a sports-free rock recently, you know that Jerome Bettis of the Pittsburgh Steelers is returning to his hometown of Detroit to play in the Superbowl this Sunday. Well, as a token of appreciation for his years of service in the league and being an ambassador for the city, the mayor of Detroit bestowed upon Jerome the "key to the city." It's an honorary gesture but a prestigious one at that. And with that distinction, Jerome certainly enters into some prestigious company, joining the likes of Louis Farrakhan, the rock band KISS, and perhaps most impressively of all, Saddam Hussein. That's right, folks. Saddam Hussein has a key to the city of Detroit. Apparently, a couple of decades before he was crawling out of a spider hole, he was donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to a church in the city. So then-mayor Coleman Young decided that this Saddam is a pretty good guy and deserved a reward for his generosity. Solid choice there, Coleman. Think you might want to have a do-over on that one? THIS JUST IN. Here are the other recipients of the key to the city of Detroit:
You've seen them, but you probably don't really think about them. But when you go into a store like Target, they're everywhere. Who are they? They're models, and they appear on posters and walls all throughout the store. They come in all different shapes, sizes, ages and colors - but they all have one thing in common: they're gigantic losers. Firstly, none of them are ever portrayed doing an activity that you would see anywhere in the real world. They're seen riding on shopping carts, kicking their legs out, or are shown as just a giant head, modeling no merchandise whatsoever but perhaps the collar of a shirt. Upon the top of one shelf in Target there is a picture of a young boy modeling a polo shirt, the collar of which is popped up. I want to strangle this boy. But alas, he is only a poster.
Working in the stock room at Target, I get to have a look at nearly every product that comes through the store. And I gotta tell you, some of the stuff we sell is beyond ridiculous. But that, for once, is not Target's fault. Target only sells what people will buy. And the stuff people waste their money on is absolutely unbelievable. For example, we carry a handy litttle device called an automatic jar opener. That's right. It's an appliance that only has one use - opening jars. If you've ever spent money on an automatic jar opener, kill yourself. There's no way that anybody who's under 100 who should EVER have one of these devices. I don't care if you're a retard - the machine has got to be more complicated than the jar. And I don't care if you have arthritis - takes some goddamn Advil and suck it up. It's just a jar. You should be donating that money to charity if you're just going to throw it away like that. And who are these people that are opening so many jars that getting an automated device is worthwhile? What even comes in jars? Pickles, and that's pretty much it. So unless you're wolfing down about 10 jars of gherkins a day, get a life. So, the only people I can think of that would really buy an automatic jar opener are those buying them as gifts. But I can tell you this right now: if I ever, EVER got an automatic jar opener as a gift, I would throw it right back into the face the person who gave it to me, and I would say, "Luke, you are a goddamn moron!"
Some thoughts I had while driving home from the new year's celebration:
Ignorance is bliss. Truer words were never spoken. I truly envy your typical Joe. He's the kind of guy who just goes about his business, and doesn't pay more attention to anything than is necessary. Why? Because Joe doesn't get irritated with things like I do, because he doesn't notice them. I try to relax. I try to worry only about the things I can control. But I can't help myself. Things just annoy the hell out of me. I wish I could stop it from happening, but clearly I can't. So I might as well write about it.
God damn, I hate Christmas. Everybody knows it. I don't really feel like explaining why I hate it so much, because it just puts me in a bad mood. But what I will do is talk about the one thing I like about it. Yes, that's right, there is one fantastic aspect of Christmas that people seem not to notice. But if you do, it can really brighten up your day. I'm not talking about Christmas spirit, or togetherness, or getting presents, or any of that crap. What am I talking about? Commercials.
I've worked at Target for four days now, and I already want to kill myself - even more than usual that is. The only thing that keeps me sane is knowing that I will be getting a paycheck every couple of weeks, something that I have not gotten in nearly a year. But I use the word paycheck loosely. At $6.50 an hour, I could probably make just as much money walking around town checking the coin returns in pay phones and vending machines. But if I must have a job, I may as well use it as fodder for my blog so at least some good (besides the pocket change I'll be making) can come out of it. So here we go . . . .
I'm back again after a long layoff. I'm going to try to post at least once a week, hopefully more, now that it looks like I probably have a job. But I just thought I'd share with you what I've been doing during my excruciatingly long layoff. So right now, let me lay out for you a typical day for me and the activities therein.
There are a lot of people who are on television. Some of them deserve to be there, and some of them don't. But how do the ones that don't belong end up on TV anyway? Well, the answer is simple. Sucking dicks. That has to be it, because it is the only explanation I can come up with that can show why Carson Daly, and people of his ilk (including one Mr. David Holmes, whom I had previously complained about) get to have shows on television. Think about it. What does Carson Daly really bring to the table? Is he funny? No. Is he sharp and quick-witted? No. Is he entertaining at all? NO! Is he boring? Quite. He is a no-talent hack. He is a bum. He is a bum with a television show for no apparent reason. Folks who host late night television shows are supposed to have redeeming, entertaining qualities that make people want to watch - you know, charisma, sense of humor, and those such things. Letterman, Leno, O'Brien, Ferguson, Kimmel, Stewart - they all have talent. They have qualities about them that make people interested. Carson Daly does not. He is bland. He's vanilla. Hell, he's not even vanilla. He's flavorless. He's tap water. Yet he has his own television program.
I'm sure this has happened to all of us. You're sitting alone one evening, flipping through the channels to find something to watch. Eventually, you come across one of those "I'll watch it if it's on" movies on TBS or some similar channel. It's a halfway decent movie, but nothing too special. Say, for example, Speed. So you're sitting there watching it for, oh, ten minutes or so, starting to get into it, and you see that it's going to commercial. You think to yourself, "That's fine, it'll be back on in a couple minutes." But, OH NO. It's NOT going to commercial. It's going to some goddamn television studio. Oh shit--it's your worst nightmare. Dave Holmes walks out onto your television screen. Yes, the same Dave Holmes who was too much of a dork even for that channel of losers, MTV (which is the second worst channel on television, next to VH1, but that's a story for another entry). He begins to explain how they accomplished the stunts in the subway scene, and you begin to bawl uncontrollably. This is the worst thing that could possibly happened, short of seeing RuPaul. You think to yourself, "Why?? Why must they do this to me?" You would rather put your testicles in a vise than listen to Dave Holmes speak (or the equivalent pain if you're a female, whatever that may be).
I'm back. This is my first post in well over a month. Why have I been gone? Well, I haven't really been busy, as I am still jobless. I've officially crossed the hazy line between "taking a break" and "unemployed." I am now a bum, living in my parents' basement. That said, I should have had plenty of time to write blog entries. In addition to that, I have had plenty of ideas. I think of things and say, "wow, that would make a great blog entry." I do stand-up comedy routines in my head, and ad-lib as I go along, to hilarious effect - in my own mind, anyway. But I don't write any of it on here. Why? Because it just seems like a waste of time, frankly. I mean, nobody reads this. My readership has dwindled significantly, unless a whole lot of people are reading and not commenting at all. So I ask of you, if you read this, comment so I know whether to go on or not. I mean, what's the point of relaying all this great material to you if YOU is just the vacuum of the internet. But even at this blog's peak, I had maybe 10 people reading it. And I just feel like it's worth more than that. There are a lot of blogs on the internet waaaay worse than this one that get a lot more readership. But I don't have the time, nor the inclination to go to the ends of the earth to try to get people to read my blog. Maybe I just think it's a lot better than it really is. I was hoping it would spread like a chain reaction from friends to friends, and I would have a few dozen readers by now. But it just hasn't happened. Either that, or they are the quietest readers ever. I mean, I get that there might be a dud entry every now and again, but I think the overall quality of my work is quite good. Better than yours at least. And it is only because I believe in myself that I will renew my efforts and continue on with this blog, for now at least.
The Goonies would be a lot better with some nudity.
"PADUCAH, Ky. (AP) - The youngest Kentucky child to be charged with murder in decades likely will receive counseling and therapy in a setting away from a state juvenile jail, experts say. The 7-year-old boy is charged with killing his mother's boyfriend on June 27."
Some people are gay. But why are they gay? Some say it's a choice. Others say it's for genetic reasons. Still others say that it's a product of their environments. Well, I don't claim to know all the answers. But I am here to offer at least a partial explanation. If you're gay, there's a good chance that it's at least partially your parents' fault. How? It's not because of the way they treated you, or because your mom accidentally bought you culottes and made you wear them when you were a kid because she thought they were shorts. And it's not because of all those bananas and bomb pops they made you eat. It's because of the name they gave you. That's right. I'm a firm believer that a name can carry great weight when it comes to determining sexual orientation. For example, if your parents name you Chris, you're probably quite a well-adjusted person. But if your parents named you Kris, with a K, that might cause your life to be somewhat altered. When parents take the liberty of adjusting the spelling of an otherwise normal name, they may unwittingly be wreaking havoc on that child's future. At age 15, Kris writes in his diary (because Kris needs a diary, and yes a diary, not a journal): "Dear Diary, I've been going through some issues lately. Why, oh, why did my parents name me Kris with a K? I don't understand it. How could they do something like that to me? On a COMPLETELY UNRELATED note, I brought my new "friend" home from school today to meet mother. His name is Robbi with an i. He's on the soccer team. Today in gym, I accidentally hit him in the butt with a ball and the teacher made me hold an ice pack on there until the swelling went down. It didn't go down for a loooong time . . . ." You see, parents? That name can make all the difference. There are certain names that you just need to stay away from. Another example would be the name Brayden. Come on, folks. If you name your kid Brayden, you may as well as name him Gay-den. You know what I'm saying? Just watch what you're doing, parents. Unless you want your kid to turn out gay . . . not that there's anything wrong with that.
"PITTSBURGH (AP) - A T-ball coach allegedly paid one of his players $25 to hurt an 8-year-old mentally disabled teammate so he wouldn't have to put the boy in the game, police said Friday."
As much as I hate to promote other people's material, as mine is generally superior, I must point your attention toward this dandy by Jim Caple from ESPN.com's Page 2. He has "acquired a copy" of the newest Harry Potter book before its release, and shares a passage with us. Hilarious stuff.
So here it is. Finally. THE list. The Top 100 Movie Quotes of All Time According to Brad. Before I begin with the quotes, I offer you some insight as to the qualifications for making the list. Firstly, I have to have seen the movie. I've seen a lot of movies, but I'm not a movie buff, or a film critic, or anything like that. Most of them are too much of a waste of time (and this blog isn't?). So chances are there are some good quotes out there that I just am not aware of, and for that I apologize. Secondly, I am not limiting the quotes to one line, or one character. If necessary, it may be a dialogue, or a speech. I could shorten some of the longer ones, but I want you to understand the context for most of them. Of course, with some of them I won't be able to give you the context, so unless you've seen the movie, you probably won't get it. But if you haven't seen any of these movies, you should watch them anyway. Thirdly, there is no specific genre of movie I'm focusing on, although it'll be clear that most of the quotes on the list come from comedy movies. I think that when AFI released their list, comedies were significantly underrepresented. The best quotes are the ones that evoke the biggest responses from the viewer, and in my book there's no better response than laughter. Also, these are not necessarily the typical quotes that you might hear people say from these movies, but the typical ones are not always the best ones. This is a list of the BEST quotes, not the most repeated or anything like that. Lastly, I want you to understand the many hours of free time I gave up to make this list. So you sure as hell better read it. Thank you. Here's the list.
Are you ever flipping around the dial and you come across one of these ridiculous exercise shows? They're on FitTV all day long, unless they're playing either the show with the fat guy cooking low carb food, or the strong guy cooking healthy food who is the worst television host ever and couldn't explain his way out of a wet paper bag. Anyway, on these exercise shows, you'll usually have three to five fit-looking people doing aerobic exercises synchronously, maybe bouncing off of some kind of step-like device which could easily be replaced by a large book or a block of wood and the exercise would be the same and you would save about fifty bucks on that damn step. And the person in the front is always the leader, and he or she will tell everybody else what to do, sometimes using crazy exercise lingo that only gym-heads understand, talking to the home viewing audience from time to time, giving them words of encouragement. And you can almost always hear something like this at least a couple times during one of those shows: "Ok eight more. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . You're doing great! Keep it up! 7 and stop." Trust me exercise person when I say that the people at home are not doing great. They're all laughing at you. A wonderful career choice you've made. What I want to know is, are there really people out there that watch this stuff and try to do the exercises along with them? Is it a spur-of-the-moment thing or is it planned out? Is some woman at home flipping around the channels and comes across this show and says, "Hey, this looks good. I think I'll try it." Then she throws off her shoes and has at it. Or is it more of a regular habit. She's out with her friends when suddenly she realizes what time it is. "Oh no!" she says. "I gotta get home. My favorite show is on soon. I never miss a Bodyshaping. That Gilad is a great encourager." I find it hard to believe that there really are people out there watching that stuff for a reason other than to make fun of it. But I guess there must be. But you know those people look nothing like the people that are exercising on the show. The people at home are fat slobs. No truly fit person would be caught dead exercising to one of those shows. That's why I think that on each one of those shows they should have some fat goof jumping around in the background, trying to keep up with the leader, and being unsuccessful at doing so. Not only would that give those poor chubs at home better self esteem from seeing someone more like themselves try to do the exercises rather than focusing on these unrealistically ideal-looking people, but it would attract a vast new audience of people like me who enjoy laughing at fat people trying to do aerobics.
So I've been hearing about this Kenny Rogers fiasco for the last few days. In case you didn't hear, Rogers (a pitcher for the Texas Rangers) was being videotaped by a news cameraman before a recent game, apparently against his wishes, and attacked two cameramen, throwing (or trying to throw) their cameras to the ground, and causing one of them, Larry Rodriguez, to go to the hospital. The Gambler was fined $50,000 and suspended for 20 days, pending appeal. Seems fair enough. Or so I thought . . . until I got a close-up look at Mr. Rodriguez while he was being interviewed on television. I've got to tell you, he may be the homeliest person I have ever seen. Literally, the first thing I said when I saw this guy was "OH MY GOD!" If James Carville and a rat had a child, his name would be Larry Rodriguez. I tried to find a good picture of him online but couldn't. That's probably good for your sake, because you don't want to see this guy anyway. You wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Anyway, seeing old Lar has really put things into perspective for me. It's clear to me now that Rogers was not going after him because of the camera, but because he was so damn ugly. And who can blame him? I say that Major League Baseball should drop the suspension and fine. Why? Well, who wouldn't attack such a man? I would. To be perfectly clear, yes, I am saying that it is ok to assault somebody based on physical hideousness. I mean come on, there should be a limit on what we're forced to take. Beyond that, and it should be open season, as far as I'm concerned.
Here's the idea. It's a reality television program. It'll be a bunch of people living on an island, or in a house, or wherever. And they'll have to interact with each other and of course have one on one's with the camera. And they'll have to vote each other out of course, and eventually somebody wins. Sounds pretty familiar, right? Here's the catch. They're all retards. You can send me that Emmy whenever you get a chance. I realize that it may offend some people, but I believe that comedy is paramount to everything else, and this just might be the funniest show ever. And it will certainly get people talking. It would have to be the most-watched reality show of all time, right? I mean, even if you are offended, wouldn't you watch it anyway? How could you not? Besides, everyone's always saying that retarded people want to be treated just like everybody else, right? So, why can't they be on a reality tv show just like everybody else? "I am normah, just like you and me."