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January 31, 2007

Movie Review: Gridiron Gang

On my way home from LA, the in-flight movie was "Gridiron Gang."  Normally I don't watch the movie.  Being confined in a tube for several hours with no hope of escape creates a perfect environment for an A.D.D. freakshow like me to focus and be productive.  It's when I do some of my best work.

However, after spending five fourteen-hour-plus days at a work conference glad-handing imbeciles and pretending to care, I was spent.  So, at our big finale dinner on Saturday night, I got wrecked. Totally, publicly shitfaced.  Fuck those assholes.

Needless to say, I was pretty hazy on Sunday morning.  My head was an overfilled balloon of massacred brain cells, and my ass was the Hoover Dam.  And in my stomach, the needles of a Richter scale were beginning to jump. There would be no working on this flight.  Maintaining my bodily functions would require every ounce of strength and focus. 

As I boarded the plane and settled into my seat, I thought I couldn't possibly feel any worse.  But then I watched "Gridiron Gang." 

Let me pause for a moment to say that I love crappy movies.  If I have a real vice, it's that I waste too much time watching awful, terrible movies.  I love imagining what the actors were thinking as they robotically recite trite, hacky lines with the passion of a grapefruit.  It's entertaining to me.  

I couldn't get there with "Gridiron Gang."  This movie was like someone wiped a turd across a piece of celluloid and then loaded in onto a projector.  It was so bad that I honestly tore my headphones off on four different times in abject disgust.  Unfortunately, I was too shitty to do anything else (even sleep), so I kept going back. 

The only thing I could imagine was how some tool successfully pitched this piece of garbage:

PITCHMAN: It's "Boyz In the Hood" meets "The Longest Yard."

STUDIO DOUCHEBAG: Which version?

PITCHMAN:  Why, Adam Sandler's, of course.

STUDIO DOUCHEBAG:  Good answer. Go on.

PTICHMAN: Well, we take the worst parts of those two movies, mix in every sports cliché imaginable, and then have a team of monkeys write the dialogue.

STUDIO DOUCHEBAG:  Hmmm.  Interesting.  Tell me more.

PITCHMAN:  We say it's based on a true story and then run it out for over two hours so people think it has integrity.

STUDIO DOUCHEBAG: Tell you what, throw in a WWF wrestler and a rapper, and you've got yourself a deal.

PITCHMAN:  Done!

STUDIO DOUCHEBAG:  Fantastic.  Now, give me my coke and get out.  I've got some underage hookers on their way up.

PITCHMAN: (hands over a small bag of white powder) See you next week. 

 

September 16, 2006

Random, Slightly Hung-Over Thoughts On A Saturday Morning

Three days until knee surgery.  I hope I don't pull a Steve Irwin and die from some stupid fluke like getting hit by a speeding ambulance as I'm leaving the hospital. 

 

Yesterday, Nerdy Squirrel got her first real paycheck in three years.  Thank you, enormous, grossly-rationalizing-the-merciless-pummeling-of-the-little-guy-in-order-to-make-obescene-amounts-of-money-for-you-and-your-fatcat-clients law firm. Thank you all the way to the bank. 

 

Took the day off yesterday and went fishing.  Unfortunately, mid-way through the day an emergency came up at work and I was pulled into a conference call.  While I did agree to participate via cell phone, I also continued to drink tall boys.  As a result, it was the first conference call in which I called someone a "fucking pussy" and was subsequently able to justify my outburst by saying that "it was just the beer talking." 

 

Last night we watched a movie from the late 1970's that I thought was really cool when I first saw it as a teenager.  I'm now wondering if I used to be retarded.

June 02, 2006

GBU: Week of 6-2-06

GOOD & BAD

Baghdad ER
As always, I'm a couple of weeks late on current topics.  I finally caught this documentary on HBO when they replayed it on Memorial Day.  It was brutal and hard to watch, which is why I think it was so important.  It forced me to examine up close the human cost of this war, piece by amputated piece.
 
Some people have said that they disagree with showing graphic content like this.  Bullshit.  Forget flying flags and putting stupid little yellow ribbon magnets on your car.  You want to empathize with the troops, have the courage to take a brief glimpse of their everyday lives.  From the safety of your couch, I might add. 
 
Others might say that this is liberal propaganda, but the conservative Weekly Standard wrote a glowing review of the show (despite their completely ludicrous comparison to the Civil War.) 
 
I'm not smart enough to say whether or not this war is good or bad.  But I do know that I do not believe that it is worth the life (or limbs) of my father, brothers, nephews or friends.  If I'm not willing to sacrifice myself or my family, then I'm the worst kind of person - one who believes that believes others (and only others) should suffer for my ideology.
 
I guess all I'm saying is how many lives is it worth?  How many amputated arms and legs is too high a cost for attempting to bring some form of democracy to Iraq?  I'm not arguing that 2,500 dead, 20,000 wounded is too high, but what number is?  Is it 10,000? 100,000?  Shouldn't we at least have a sense of this?  And if we are going to keep telling 20 year-old kids to get blown up for us, shouldn't we at least have the decency to watch?

UGLY

While it seemed like a good idea at the time, buying underwear in bulk from Discount Drug Mart was a mistake.  An ugly mistake.  Sure, it was convenient (the contents of my basket: Earl Grey tea, duct tape, beef jerky, sympathy card, army-size package of boxers) and cheap.  But these things have traveled so far up the crack of my ass that I'm going to need a team of Sherpas to find them. 
 
After checking the label, I realized these things were made in Pakistan.  No wonder men in the Middle East seem so pissed off all the time. 

Quote Of The Week: 

"The More Hummers we have on the road in America, the more military Humvees we will need in the Middle East."  - Thomas Friedman

May 26, 2006

GBU: Week of 5-26-06

GOOD

The Opie & Anthony Show, featuring Little Jimmy Norton.  These guys are hilarious and they deliver the goods in a way Howard Stern never has.  No one is suggesting that Stern wasn't the innovator, but that doesn't mean others can't come along and do it better.  In fact, unless you are watching a RCA black & white console television or driving a Ford Model T, I don't even want to hear it the argument.
 
Something I learned on O & A this week:
 
You can exhibit shockingly gay behavior and be immediately absolved of any guilt by simply saying "No homo."  Try it!  It's so much fun, I'm going to start hanging out in public restrooms just to create opportunities to use it.

BAD
My boss is an aimless, motivation-crushing, intellect-insulting moron.  She has been riding the short bus to work for so long that the other retards think she is an undercover marshal.  But let's get specific (by the way, several people I work with read this blog and know who I am, so I'm basically waving my hog around in the air right now.  Wheee!).
 
I've spent the last year working on a project that I believe will be a huge benefit to our organization.  Having completely mapped out every phase, I have given care to the tiniest detail.  It is in no way bragging to say that I know this project better than anybody else.
So why is it that, in the very last phase, some drool bucket thinks they can give it a cursory look and begin making sweeping recommendations? 
 
I know what the fuck I'm doing.  That's why you always ask me to do these types of projects in the first place.  That's why you have me edit other people's work.  Just strap on your helmet, grab a vinyl bench seat and stare out the window as the pretty mailboxes fly by.  The grown-ups have work to do.  
 
(My apologies to the www.peevery.com as I have clearly commandeered their style in that last paragraph.)
 
UGLY
At the risk of sounding like a hack, can we all please stop giving a shit about Tom Cruise?  He is not the Secretary of Defense, the CEO of Enron or the Executive Director of the American Red Cross.  He is an actor.  He pretends.  And if everyone is honest, they will admit that he usually does a pretty good job of it.  But make no mistake, being pretty good at pretending is the total sum of his value to our society.
 
Why, why, why do people care so much about this guy?  What he believes or who he screws cannot possibly affect you in any way. Even if it did affect his ability to pretend, you still have the choice of spending your $8 somewhere else.
 
I see no reasonable explanation for this.  At best it is pointless celebrity worship, at worst it is simply taking pleasure in tearing down other people - rich, fanatical, cradle-robbing, alien-worshipping...sorry, Nerdy Squirrel has something to add...what's that?...placenta?...No!...Are you serious?...Dear, God...placenta (ugh!)-eating?...Really?
 
OK, now this crazy son-of-a-bitch is affecting me.  He must be stopped.  Someone call the Men in Black.
 
 
P.S. Since it is a long weekend, C.U. next Tuesday.

May 19, 2006

GBU: Week of 5-19-06

GOOD
Nerdy Squirrel
Graduates tomorrow afternoon!  Expect my posts for the next two weeks to read like the drunken ramblings of a kept man who is afraid his lawyer wife will sue him for any number of his steadily mounting atrocities.  In other words, business as usual.
BAD
Flavored Water
I know that this stuff has been out for a while now and this is a little Johnny-come-lately.  For some reason, Aquafina's and Dasani's decided to package several of their flavored waters in the exact same bottles with the exact same labels as their "naturally-flavored" water, save for some small splashes of color on the label.  I suppose it is good marketing, but the differences are nearly impossible to detect through a fogged cooler door, especially when you're running through an airport eager to pony up $3 for a bottle because you believe it will somehow magically cleanse your body of the putrid air you will be breathing for the next two to four hours (why else would it cost $3 a bottle?).  As a result, I keep buying this shit by mistake. 
 
Isn't every thing we drink basically flavored water?  This is pure bullshit and I'm tired of having to drink raspberry Kool-Aid on airplanes because I didn't carefully inspect the label on my water bottle.  It tastes like crap and I'm pretty sure it doesn't have the same healing power as regular water.
UGLY
Midges, Midges, and More Midges
Frogs, locust, hail mixed with fire?  Please!  The Egyptians were pussies.  You want to see a real plague, live by Lake Erie any given spring.  These goddamn things are everywhere.  It's like living on the beach if the beach was made up of fuzzy, horrible little insects that you have to shake out of everything. 
 
The only saving grace is the joy I feel by sucking them up with my Shop Vac.  "Uh, oh. Here comes God, and God looks angry today!"
 
 
Next Week:
The first draft of my "All Midge Recipe Book," including midge soup, midge pie, midge jambalaya, midgesicles and many, many more.  It's midge-licious!

May 12, 2006

GBU: Week of 5-12-06

GOOD 

Traffic Laws
One good reason why we have traffic laws is so that you and I do not need to negotiate the right of way through a series of hand gestures and head nods.  If you want to be a traffic cop, then take the goddamn civil service test.  Once you have a badge and a whistle, then I'll be more inclined to interpret your flailing sign language and follow your directions.  Until then, just obey the fucking law.   

BAD

Hospital Waivers
In order to get care, my hospital requires that I sign a form that basically says the following:
"First, in case we are incompetent and do not properly bill your insurance company for the services we provide, you will pay us out of your pocket.  Second, you will also pay us for any services we decide to provide to you (or say we provided to you) whether or not you or your insurance company agrees.  Third, you will pay us whatever price we decide to charge you.  We will not tell you what these services cost, so don't even try to find out.  Just shut up, do what you're told and pay your bill.  Finally, we will be selling your personal information to the highest bidder unless you send a signed letter and a DNA sample to a P.O. Box address which no one actually knows and wouldn't tell you if they did."
 
At least have the decency to hand me a sample tube of lubrication along with the clipboard.

UGLY

Does anything come with a higher cringe factor than a man or woman over the age of 50 who tries to sound hip?  As an aging fart with Peter Pan Syndrome, I fully understand the need to cling to youth (or youthful appearances).  But I'd rather stuff my exposed head inside a beehive than hear my father say something like "You Go, Girl!"  It is not funny or cute.  It is the exact opposite.  
 
In a surgically enhanced, gadget-infested, celebrity-worshiping world, a little grace is a rare and beautiful thing.

May 06, 2006

GBU: Week of 5-5-06

GOOD
How about we all get off our culturally oversensitive high horses and agree that hygiene is a good idea, be it a western one or otherwise.  I'm talking to you, Mr. Cab Driver, and you, Mr. Ethnic Restaurant Owner.  Can't we all just get a long, hot shower?
 
BAD
It's been nearly 15 years since my last exam in graduate school.  So why am I still having the same hack anxiety dream about showing up for a final exam after missing class all semester?  All neuroses aside, I'm mostly disappointed by my sheer lack of subconscious creativity.  What's next, erotic dreams about trains and tunnels? 
 
UGLY
This week a Vice President (let's call him Sphincter Boy) of the national non-profit organization I work for tried to burn me down for not supporting his self-serving and totally fucked solution to a problem with one of our local chapters.  Aping the ever-popular scorched-earth political tactic, this piece of shit publicly attacked my intention, credibility and competence in an executive staff meeting.  Having had run-ins with Sphincter Boy before, I had armed myself with all the necessary facts and documents to justify my position.  Fortunately, in this case, intelligent problem-solving (me) won out over disjointed hearsay (Sphincter Boy) and I was vindicated and given the full support of the execs.  But still...
 
I am consumed with rage and want to lay waste to this motherfucker.  I want to see his crimson, liquefied body sprayed onto the fresh driven snow as I stuff his flailing limbs into a wood chipper.  I want to bury him up to his head, cover his face with honey and kick the shit out of a nearby fire ant hill.  I want to tie him to a chair a go "Reservoir Dogs" on his ass.  I want to cover him with whipped cream and...wait...no, that's someone else. 
 
The bad part off all this is that I'm not sure what is uglier - Sphincter Boy's greed-driven deceit or my subsequent reaction.  Even worse is losing the illusion that I was a better man than this.

April 28, 2006

GBU: Week of 4-28-06

GOOD

The Peevery
Genuine and comically mundane. Plus, you've gotta love a site with "Suck It" as its tagline  

Gas Prices
(Soapbox Alert)  In the land that invented the all-you-can-eat buffet, we've forgotten how to push back from the table.  Fortunately, the only thing we like stuffing as much as our face is our wallet.  Having to pay to play is the only way we will ever take energy consumption seriously.  Who cares if a few oil company CEO's get fat (fatter) in the process?  Call it an education subsidy


BAD

Jennifer Aniston
This one trick pony has the acting range of SCUD missile.  Dud after dud, poor heart-broken Jen has apparently become Hollywood's favorite charity case.  Note to Nerdy Squirrel: No more Rachel  flicks.

Me

Guilty for secretly appreciating an unseasonably warm April in Cleveland that I know is most likely the result of global warming Goodbye frostbite, hello melanoma. 

Battery-Operated Devices
First, get your mind out of the gutter.  Second, my name is Crunchy, and I'm a junkie.
I spend 2-3 days a week rummaging around airports, hotel rooms and coffee shops, wild-eyed and desperately jonesing for an outlet in which to re-charge my computer/cell phone/iPod.  My toys make traveling to places like Grand Rapids a little more bearable, but the need for juice is a relentless monkey on my back. 

GFAs
Those Goddamn Fucking Assholes who wait in line for 20 minutes to get up to the security checkpoint at the airport and then, THEN decide to start checking their pockets and unloading their crap.  It's like they're suddenly surprised to be there.  "Hey asshole, I I've got a plane to catch!" Please tell me it's OK to begin executing these fuckers. 


UGLY 

 

The New Cars
With no Ric Ocasek and no Benjamin Orr, this is basically Todd Rundgren fronting a cover band (the same guy who was the cover dad for Liv Tyler for so many years).  Why on earth would anybody give a rat's ass?
 
Normally, this would just be BAD, but whatever sin (greed, pride, vanity, etc.) it is that has compelled TR to do this just seems UGLY to me.  Why Don't Cha Stop?


P.S.
Things I should have done this week but didn't:

Tell the knucklehead across from me on the plane that his headphones weren't plugged all the way in to his laptop, so instead tolerated the tinny soundtrack to some movie he was watching.
 
Go to physical therapy.  I just hate having to listen to anyone who wears a sweatsuit to work.  Walking is overrated anyway.
 
Raise holy hell with the front desk staff at the Kansas City Radisson when, arriving back after a 14 hour day (capped off by an extremely contentious four hour meeting), was told that the bar and restaurant closed at 11:00PM (ELEVEN O'CLOCK!) and there was no place in the hotel to get a drink
 
Learn how to use Movable Type (this blog software).  I'm beginning to feel like a passenger flying the plane.   

April 21, 2006

Good, Bad & Ugly: Week of 4-21-06

 

GOOD 

www.factcheck.org
For these folks, calling "Bullshit!" is a full-time job.  Plus, you can't even make a donation to them.  How cool is that?  
 
Morningwood - Jetsetter
While the video is marginal (and who cares, really?), I have been totally digging this song all week.  Can't wait for my Amazon shipment to arrive.  (Wow.  That last sentence just sent a shiver up my spine.  I think I'm in serious danger of becoming a shut-in.)
 
The Who - Who Are You
Every few years (OK, decades) I re-discover some old music that I haven't paid any attention to in a while.  I used to listen to this on vinyl with my prized Emerson Stereo System complete with phonograph, 8-track and AM/FM radio.  The folks wouldn't tolerate any loud music, so I would put a speaker on each side of my pillow and lie there for hours thinking about brassieres (touching, not wearing).  
 
Nicolemart
A very fun site and the first blog to link to www.throwingpoo.com.  I can practically hear her regret swelling...

BAD

Scott McClellan
Bye, bye Scottie.  Every lying liar eventually runs out of lies to lie about.  Sure, he'll get a fat book deal, but Jim Carrey already did the movie
  

Easter Candy
Can't stop eating.  Please.  Make it go away.  I'm begging you.
 

UGLY 

Even though it's been out for a while, I have to say that the commercial where they show the M&Ms and the chocolate bar in a cheesy, romantic setting to insinuate they are about to have sex and birth the M-Azing Bar disturbs me.  Being forced to imagine the coital fluid exchange between snack foods just isn't very appetizing, never mind the conception, gestation and delivery of their offspring.  At the very best, they're saying, "Here, eat our children."  No thanks. I'll just have a safe, abstinent Snickers bar.

 


 

April 14, 2006

GBU of the Week

GOOD:

Music: Kaiser Chiefs, Employment - Way cool (it's not new, but its new to me).

Movies: Thank You For Smoking The funniest thing I've seen in months.  J.K. Simmons (J. Jonah Jamerson from Spiderman) RULES!

 

BAD:

Politics: Donald Rumsfeld A growing line of generals and now even Newt is bashing him.  It's time for him to go - the beach isn't going to metal-detect itself. 

 

UGLY:

DIY: The wall of my office where I've been banging my head all week trying to figure out Movable Type (this blog software).  Maybe I should stick to crayons and paper.

Faces: All politics aside, forget for a moment that you know who Tom Delay is.  How quickly would you cancel your dinner plans if the babysitting service sent this guy to your house? 

 

 

 

 

April 09, 2006

Movie Review: "Slither"

After spending several hardcore hours this morning compiling and re-writing a series of organizational policies, my brain needed its oil changed.  So I skipped out of work and went to the early matinee showing of "Slither." I’m a big fan of B-grade, tongue-in-cheek horror movies, so when I heard it being compared to "Tremors" - as far as I’m concerned, Kevin Bacon will always have street cred for doing this film - I went in expecting vague monsters, buckets of blood, snappy dialogue and maybe some skin.  

While I can’t say that "Slither" slid under my already low expectations (Thank you, good night!), I can say that I haven’t heard the word “fuck” that many times since election night 2004.  Those were mostly “Now we’re really fucked” and “Fuck me,” but I think it still counts.

Anyway, I enjoy a good “fuck” every now and then.  In fact, some people might say I enjoy “fuck” a little too much, evidenced by the fact that our cat is beginning to respond to “little fucker.”  Although I did miss the recent documentary about “fuck” at the Cleveland Film Festival aptly titled "F*CK," I do find as much comfort in the word as, say, macaroni and cheese or an old sweatshirt.  I think that entitles me to my opinion.

So when I actually notice that “fuck” is getting gratuitous airplay, I have to wonder whether or not the decent folk in the room are hemorrhaging from their ears.  And that breaks my cardinal sin for movies, which is this - don’t send me back to my own reality halfway through the fucking movie.  When I pay for my ticket, I want to get completely lost in the action, horror, drama or just plain stupidity of the movie.  Even with a bad flick, I can become completely absorbed in its awfulness (A recent example being the "Ultraviolet" which was described by one reviewer as “ultracrappy,” a word I need to use more often).   My wife cannot understand this.  I guess it’s like getting dunked in a vat of cheese whiz – yeah it’s gross and sticky and smelly and probably leaves permanent stains, but it’s also warm and there is a sense of weightlessness, which can be fun.     

To sum up, "Slither" was gross and shocking and kind of funny, but it also broke rule number one.  It most cases that would mean I couldn’t recommend it, unless there was frontal nudity, which, criminally, there wasn’t.  (NOTE: If this revelation is considered a spoiler for you, then my apologies.  To your family, friends and anyone who comes into contact with you, that is.)  However, one of the actors in Slither is Nathan Fillion who starred in the indecently underpromoted "Serenity," the mere mention of which makes me want to run out and rent it right now.

For that reason alone, I must recommend "Serenity"…I mean "Slither."  Whatever.  Do what you want.  I just really want to see some boobs now right now.  I think I've earned it. 

Honey?  Hey honey?  Can you come for a sec?