I'm like Bond in the octagon

Francis Ford Coppopla directed this 17 minute, 80-riffic, 3-D opus that could only be seen at Disney World. It's Barbarella meets Broadway with it's dance sequences and shiny outfits that no one from the future will ever wear.
According to the legendary IMDB :
At a cost of about one million dollars per minute of film, this was, minute for minute, the most expensive motion picture of all time.
This is something that has to be released on DVD because of the cultural implications. It's Michael Jackson, the first glam-pop star, in his own twisted ludicrious version of Ziggy Stardust. When there were elaborately costumed hair metal bands running around, Michael reminded us that you could be theatrical without spitting beer as you ripped through an ovderdone solo.
There is no denying that Michael was an absolute beast in his prime. No matter what you say about the man now, he revolutonized the music video industry scene with his mini-films and over-acting.
This is the project that he figured would save us all. This was going to make up for the movie version of the WIZ http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078504/ . How could he lose? People percieved this film as an overdone sci fi opera that would only make money on the names attached. Something that many of us would say if something similar was released today.
How about 50 Cent in a 20 minute sci-fi 3-D IMAX flick with Angela Lansbury as the villianess who is trying to eliminate all forms of music across the galaxy. It's Footlose meets Alien 3. He could have a bumbling computer generated sidekick, voiced by Orlando Jones, who painstakingly tries to act gangster along 50. It could be called TRAPPIN 5-O. Critics would pan it, but it would have a cult following and be even more popular 20 years after it is released. This is a trend that was accelerated by the internet. The internet is a forum for the forgotten. A place where mediums can survive through message boards and websites like 80'sTshirts.com. Just look at the Chuck Norris net boom.
It seems that Ebay is the only place that you will find Captain EO if you are lucky. Would it be an afterthought if we didn't have services such as EBay and trillions of blogs opening media time capsules and reinventing them? Captain EO is now available on YouTube.com so you can your buddies can smoke some grass and watch it in every Sunday after a hard Saturday night. It can become a ritual. Can you imagine a dorm room:

Gnarly Dude: "Last night was bananas bro...I am hungover. Want to smoke and watch Captain EO?"
Crusty Dude: "Broski you read my mind. Michael Jackson was a man child back then. This movie was way ahead of it's time and references our current obsession with the bird flu pandemic."

This conversation without a doubt happened. Maybe not those exact words, but everything has become a significant piece of popular culture due to the word wide web. There is a time and place for everything and the little box that is sucking the juice out of your eyes right now is the why. Just look at the tagline at the bottom of the poster:
WE ARE HERE TO CHANGE THE WORLD.

Gnarly Dude: "How ironic dude...a movie about the future becomes a piece of the future! I think weed makes me smarter."

You look like David Bowie, but you've nothing new to show me

Snakes on a Train

I have talked about Bar Demons before making for uncomfortable situations, but I have another species of annoying humans: Train Snakes. They can demolish your morning no matter what day of the week it is. It could be Friday, and you could be leaving at lunch for a bullshit podiatrist appointment,and your day could still be reduced to rubble. You could be sitting in the window seat all alone in a three seater and a snake will make the beautiful landscape you are scoping look like the post apocalyptic mayhem in the Mad Max movies. Like real snakes they are stealthy and have no idea how much people fear them. Here they are:

The Snapper: The snapper is socially inept. There is no stopping the snapper's lips from flapping. The snapper can't control the volume of his/her voice, nor can they control the anxiety that the other passengers feel when they step on the train. They will talk about ludicrous bullshit like what their kids were wearing this morning as they stepped out to ride the big yellow. The snapper especially loves mondays because then they can talk about every single detail from last night's Soprano's episode. "Do you think Vito is going to get WHACKED?" I wonder if Carmella has a new found love for Tony post-shooting?"
Imagine someone screaming this aloud to the person next to them when all you want to do is sit in silence and wallow in your monday misery. The snapper has the ability to break sound barriers. How? No matter how loud you turn up the volume of your Ipod they will ring through, and not even think twice about it. Snappers will be sued in the future by Apple for the hearing loss that their product causes. It's the snapper's fault we are all going to be deaf by 2013.

Crust Man: Crust man is also not to keen on social situations. Why? Hygiene. Crust man, unlike the snapper has to be sitting close to you to affect your ride. He is most effective when sitting directly in front of you so you can stare at the huge white flakes falling out of his hair onto your pants. Crust man wears the white button-up with pit stains as bright as the shining sun. He wears orthopedic shoes that squeak even if he wiggles his toes beneath his crusty white tube socks. Crust man loves indirectly bumping into victims as he waddles through the aisle. This is how he spreads his snake venom, which is similar to real snakes that spit venom at their prey.
Crust man is usually the IT guy at the office, which isolates him even more from society. This doesn't help his acknowledgement of the grease dripping from his hair. Crust man enjoys drive thru fast food and collecting Doctor Who merchandise. (That has nothing to do with him riding on the train, but you just know it by looking at him)

Ambivalence Woman: Ambivalence woman pretends that her kid doesn't exist despite the fact that they are firing game boy cartridges at the other passengers. She usually looks out the window as her child reeks havoc on other riders. Ambivalence woman's kid usually is the ADD poster child. You know the shoes that light up everytime they take a step. The constant questions that ambivalence woman doesn't even attempt to answer.
Her kids knows no boundaries when it comes to ruining the lives of others. Every once is a while ambivalence woman loses her shit causing her to beat her child without mercy for about 5 seconds making the rest of the train refrain from a thunderous applause. This doesn't last long though. Then the child begins to hysterically cry causing the mother to continue staring out the window pretending her own flesh and blood isn't even next to her.

Being all the train with all three of these snakes can make you jump in front on the train instead of on it. There should be a special car on the train labeled: SNAKES ONLY.

But it's always with trust that the poison is fed with a spoon

Ipod; therefore Ipoot
A Short Story (Not Based on Actual Events)

It's 5:47am and of course I am up before the 6:30 alarm sounds. After a night of extinguishing my stress fire with several rum and cokes this tends to happen. Now for the rollover test. Staring at the ceiling laying completely still feels comfortable, but once I rollover to get out of bed it could all go to shit. So here we go...roll to the left...feet on the ground...BOOM...I feel seasick. Meandering to the bathroom is a chore in itself, but the cold tiles send shockwaves through my barefeet to my brain. A piping hot shower is my only savior right now. As I go to turn the "H" knob all the way to the right I notice something. The sides of my fingernails are stained with a sticky dark red substance.
Blood!? God I hope not. Did I try to steal the karaoke mic again because I didn't like they way they were covering Bowie? No. Karaoke night is Thursday, and I am pretty sure it's Thursday morning. Then it hits me almost as hard as my current hangover. It was the leftover wings that I ravaged when I got home earlier this morning. I vaguely remember not breathing while eating them, and then not brushing when it was all over.
My shower feels great, but I need to sit down due to my current state of nausea. The water snapping on my back reminds me of how I am going to get pounded at the office today. What will be my saving grace today? Will someone pull a fire alarm? Will there be an real fire so we can all leave? Maybe they will tell me I have been working so hard lately that I should just pack it in and take the day off? That's ludicrous, but a kid's gotta dream. If the powers that be don't hate me they will give me enough courage to approach the plethora of hot women at my office today. This would be much better than staring at them with my mouth open while I hold the elevator door. Finally talking to one of the beauties would make this morning amazing considering the circumstances.
I skip the shaving part because I am late and it better suites my current state. Hop in my 15 year old Honda Accord. You know the one with the headlights that pop out of the hood. My headlights are popped and I make my way to the train station. As I begin to step out the car I look the the right and see a crumpled pack of Parliaments resting on my dirty floor. Having a smoke could devastate me even more by seriously increasing the hangover. So I grab the crusty pack and hed to the platform of the train station.
The match is lit and the smoke has begun. The first drag isn't too rough, but it can only get worse. I stare down my nose at the tiny Parliament writing on the cig and it seems to be staring right back at me. I leave about a quarter left and throw the butt onto the tracks. Now lightheaded and just all around funky feeling I stare at the burning cigarette. I am staring so intently that I don't even notice the roar of the train as it stops causing me to jump back like a complete asshole on the platform.
Of course there isn't an open seat on this hunk of shiny metal so I sit on the outside of a three seater. The window seat would have been tops, but I settle for the outside. My IPod is my only saving grace right now. The question is what do I listen too throughout this soon to be harrowing ride? I settle for Neil Young's Cowgirl in the Sand and the train starts to roll. Something else begins to roll with the train and it's my stomach. I silently vow to never drink a rum and coke again as I close my eyes to escape the situation. I try to concentrate on Neil's poetry, but even that can't sure me right now. Sweat beads are forming along my forehead so I wipe it off and glance back to see if anyone is witnessing my suffering.
My quick glance reveals two of the stellar women from my office chatting. My first thought is that they are talking about how dilapidated I look. My face is extremely pale at this point and I fear the "water under the tongue pre-vomit feeling." It's a feeling of helplessness when you reach this stage because there is no turning back. If I have to puke where should I aim? The floor? Maybe get off at the next stop and put on a show for those waiting for the train? My eyes stay closed and I fight it.
I am fighting along with the mean guitar ripping through one of Neil's masterpieces. We fight it out together. It gives me strength as the train nears my stop. I am starting to feel less nautious at this point, but I lose it for a second when have a flashback. I conjure up images of the straw of my drink not leaving my lips and my late night/early morning feast. Then I finally arrive at my stop.
I stand up to get off the train and feel better knowing that I am about to get some fresh air. Stepping off the train I stop for a minute so I can pick a perfect song as I walk to work. I pick Bowie's Life on Mars hoping to cue it perfectly so it kicks in as I reach the top of the escalator. It's little things like this that you need to start off the day right. The jam didn't quite kick in when I wanted it too but it satisfies as I start my walk.
I look around for the good looking gals from work, but they are nowhere in sight. As I am walking my nausea turns into SEVERE gas pains. The kind that doubles you over until you bust some serious ass. So the song plays,

"sailors fighting in the dance hall
oh man look at those cavemen POOOOOOOT!!!"

Wait a second that wasn't part of the song! What was that tremendous farting noise? There isn't a cloud in the sky so it can't be thunder. Has my Ipod malfunctioned? Nope...none of the above. It was me. It was all me as I was lost in song not even thinking about my surroundings. My Ipod sent me to another realm where people can't hear your music playing or your gas passing. Too bad I was the only one in this little world of mine. I then turn as red as the wings I housed last night, which caused this onslaught of agony. Should I even look back?
If it is the ridiculously good looking women from work I will have to jump in front of a bus. If anyone I hope that I farted in the direction of some Hipsters or Jimmy Buffet fans. With the way this day has been going it's most likely the women.
So I dare to look behind and see nothing. Not a person in sight. No hipsters, parrot heads, or hot chicks. Just a homeless man sitting on the ground, who has placed his "WILL WORK FOR FOOD" sign on the concrete as his shoulders shake. He can't control his laughter as he witnessed this overblown debacle. I look at him for a second, smirk and continue my journey to the office.
As I enter the office I suddenly feel better than I did five minutes ago. The nausea and gas pains have subsided. The anxiety of working hung over has left my soul. I push the up button on the elevator and of course the beauties are right behind me as the ding sounds and the door opens. I hold the door for them, but this time my mouth isn't wide open. I have a huge smile on my mug and greet them with a friendly hello.

If you think that a kiss is all in the lips...Come on..you got it all wrong

With the world relentlessly mourning the death of Superman's wife an american legacy has been swept under our star spangled carpet. Artist Gordon Parks passed away, and good luck trying to find a mention of it from the national television media. A modern day renassiance man who left an imprint on virtually all artistic mediums died, Tuesday at the ripe old age of 93. We mourn a woman who without a doubt contributed something to society, but has she accomplished or given as much as Parks? Some will argue that Parks' legacy is one that is restricted to a smaller fan base, and that Dana Reeve...well was the wife of Christopher Reeve. We all felt so horrible for Reeve when he was paralyzed, and he consumed headlines then and at the time of his death. We forgot one thing. Reeve had a wonderful life before his accident. He was FUCKING SUPERMAN, but we all choke back the tears because his handsome face is now covered with tubes for breathing. He lived a life before his death that most people never even dream of. Not to take anything away from the devastation that the Reeve family has endured, but lets looks at some other american "icons." Look at Gordon Parks.

USA TODAY OBIT:

Gordon Parks, an American legend
By Jym Wilson, USA TODAY
Gordon Parks looked like an artist.
"Nothing came easy," Parks wrote in his autobiography. "I was just born with a need to explore every tool shop of my mind."
By Marsha Halper, Miami Herald via AP
With his shock of white hair, grand mustache and seemingly ever-present pipe, Parks was a 20th-century Renaissance man. He worked as a photojournalist, fashion photographer, filmmaker, composer, novelist, poet and painter. (Related story: Parks' unique American perspective)
But Parks, who died Tuesday at age 93, was best known for his compassionate yet gritty 1940s documentary photography of the lives of black Americans — first with the post-Depression Farm Services Administration and then with Life magazine. At the same time, he was shooting high fashion for Vogue magazine as a contemporary of the likes of Richard Avedon and Irving Penn.
He also was a film pioneer, becoming the first African-American to direct a film for a major studio in 1969. The Learning Tree, a drama, was based on his 1963 autobiographical novel about growing up in Kansas in the 1920s. He also wrote the script and the score.
In a considerable departure, Parks' next movie was Shaft. The 1971 hit starring Richard Roundtree as hip detective John Shaft is considered a classic of the blaxploitation genre. And it of course featured the catchy theme song by Isaac Hayes, which won an Academy Award. He made several more films, including Shaft sequel Shaft's Big Score.
In 1998, the Parks photographic retrospective Half Past Autumn was mounted and toured the country for years. In 2000, it attracted "flocks" of visitors to the California African American Museum in Los Angeles, says executive director Charmaine Jefferson. A former New York City cultural affairs commissioner and head of the Dance Theatre of Harlem, she says she spent a memorable evening with Parks listening to music he composed for a ballet.
She says he will go down as "one of the great photographers of our time" but also will be remembered for his music, his writing, his films, even his costumes. "He was so multitalented," she says. "He could do it all. And we were so proud of him."
Parks himself was always striving. In a 1998 interview with PBS' Newshour, he said: "My life to me is like sort of a disjointed dream. ... It was a constant effort, a constant feeling that I must not fail, and I still have that. ... There's another horizon out there, one more horizon that you have to make for yourself and let other people discover it."
Contributing: Maria Puente

Don't let your silly dreams...fall in between

Breaking the Wedge

There is an epidemic sweeping throughout drinking establishments in America, and it has been a problem since bars only offered whiskey to scratch your drinking itch. It happens evey night no matter how many people are there or how drunk the patrons are. You will realize it when your back is turned while ordering a drink or simply standing and chatting with a friend. What is the big fuss you ask? BAR DEMONS...thats what. What is a Bar Demon?

Bar Demon\ BAR de MUN\ noun :
One who walks through a bar with no regard for those standing within a 2 foot radius. Bar Demons have the ability to cause chaos for those trying to enjoy a night out. Bar Demons usually aren't even aware that they are furiously bumping into everyone around them because they are too intoxicated to realize.

There is nothing like standing at the bar and enjoying a drink when you are suddenly struck hit and run style. Your drink is all over your jeans, and you are left looking around like someone threw a spitball at you from the back of the class. Demons have the ability to vanish after they strike. "Excuse me" is not a phrase that Demons hold in their vocabulary. They don't feel the need to be courteous, and thats why they carry the Demon moniker.
They strike at all hours of the night from all angles. They lurk in the shadows of the bathroom line and wait until there is a good crowd to crash through leaving the victims helpless. More mental than physical harm is done by these Demons, but they could care less. They creep through the thick fog and blast the innocent all night without a "Sorry", "My Bad", "My Biscuit" or "Are you OK?"

They are different types of Bar Demons racing throughout the bar circuit. Here are some of the different species:

The Special Teamer:
Usually a smaller female with frizzy hair who goes head down and pushes through the crowd. She doesn't look back nor does she look forward. Her glazy eyes stay fixated on the ground as she shuffles through. She leaves the patrons stunned as she continues to walk away after she knocks you into your friend so hard that your front teeth leave an imprint on their forehead.

The Leaner:
Usually as younger male who cannot hold his liquor or balance past 8 pm. The Leaner has been known to place all of his weight on people waving money at the bartender for attention. He is relentless with his leaning and will not stop until the person in front of him is left on the ground soiled in bar sludge. The Leaner usually finds himself bloodied and toothless in the gutter by the end of the night because of his actions. He is without a doubt the most despised demon.

The Steak:
The Steak is the most powerful demon of them all because of his physical atrributes and demeanor. He walks through the crowd like an ogre who has just ransacked a village of hut-dwellers. He knows he is sending people flying all over the bar, but is fully aware that no one will say peep to him because of his stature. The Steak is usually wearing something form fitting to let everyone know he means business. Some Steaks have been known to let their golden chains hang over the chest hair by undoing the top 3 buttons. Even if the Steaks smashes you...don't say a word to him.

With all these smoking bans being imposed throughout the States you would think they would try to ban Demons. Anyone carrying the traits of a Bar Demon should be immediatley ejected from the bar and sent to jail. No questions asked. These disturbances must stop, and we need to start writing letters to State Reps. to solve this deplorable situation. If they banned Demons people wouldn't even complain about smokey bars. They would be happy knowing they will be guarded from all Demons until the last call.

I slice up squares like sicilian

The Ipod can without a doubt be noted as a major player in the evolution of modern music. You can create soundtracks to just about anything. Your walk to and from any form of public transportation. Your action sports musical montage for the gym. It can turn your car into a party and the driver and passenger into masters of the wheels of steel...err wheel of plastic. Some can't live without it, and some are too lazy to add songs to their playlist.
It's sleek design has spawned a portable electronic fashion show. Cell phones and portable music players are now parallel to certain makes of cars. If you have the Motorola RAZR cellphone you are driving a Lexus. If you still have that Speak and Spell looking Nokia, you're driving a '89 Ford Festiva. The Ipod Nano is like driving around in a brand new shiny white BMW. The old Ipod mini is like driving an '85 Benz...it used to be the hottest thing around but desperately needs a paint job. If you rock the Ipod shuffle you're riding a half decent mountain bike. Some of the gears don't click when you want them to, but it gets the job done.
Apple has released an ILife program for their pretty streamlined machines. It apparently controls anything and everything in your digital world. Pictures, music, movies,porn filing, and apparently it makes coffee if you are feeling tired from staring at the screen all day. I wonder when IGod will come out.
Apple has changed the way we move throughout this digital age, but there is double edged sword here. The Ipod is magnificant but if you can only hold under a thousand songs (like myself) the jams tend to get pretty stale. You can play out your favorite album and no longer say, "It's my favorite...I don't even skip songs." You have access to it all the time now. You are sick of it and need another fix. This cruel cycle continues and before you know it you desperately need something fresh.
You search and all the sudden find something crispy to add to your pod. It invigorates, excites, makes you even a little hot and horny for a while, but then it happens. You start listening to it, but you aren't hearing it. The beats go through your mind without stopping like a Taxi to scared to pick you up because you look like you're going to projectile vomit all over the cab. That album that you couldn't get enough off turns into an afterthought.
The sharp side of this sword that is capable of delivering a deadly blow? You are constantly searching for something new to move your soul. Music you never imagined hearing has entered your playlist because you needed a fresh start. You will discover B-sides, live cuts, never released tracks, and maybe that acoustic Neil Diamnond album. That one song you heard in that movie that made your ass shake can now be found, and you could turn out to be a huge fan of the group that originally moved your midsection. Once you have this new favorite group you will continue to add all their stuff to your Ipod, and fall into the black hole of music again.
We are expanding our musical horizons and hopefully refining our palettes a bit. This could be helping the music industry in ways we can't even fathom. With people constantly searching for something new there is going to be a demand for quality. Is the quality of music on the rise or are we just finding more diamonds in the rough because we are athirst for some new tunes? Either way someone is making a boatload of cash.


A word that needs to be used more:


deus ex machina \DAY-uhs-eks-MAH-kuh-nuh; -nah; -MAK-uh-nuh\, noun:
1. In ancient Greek and Roman drama, a god introduced by means of a crane to unravel and resolve the plot.
2. Any active agent who appears unexpectedly to solve an apparently insoluble difficulty.
In times of affluence and peace, with technology that always seems to arrive like a deus ex machina to solve any problem, it becomes easy to believe that life is perfectible.

-- Stephanie Gutmann, The Kinder, Gentler Military But we also need the possibility of cataclysm, so that, when situations seem hopeless, and beyond the power of any natural force to amend, we may still anticipate salvation from a messiah, a conquering hero, a deus ex machina, or some other agent with power to fracture the unsupportable and institute the unobtainable.


The sentence they provide is a great one but what about in our modern world of stupidity?

New age use:

I was talking to a land monster at the bar after about 15 captain and coke's when a deus ex machina entered my world and pulled me from the tightening grip of this sea creature.

All a deus ex machina is in today's world is a "wing-man"

its a bad idea, to go down to the pier by your self after dark

I was half asleep the other night when one of my dreams turned into a reality. There was an NBA game blaring through my "un-flat screen" television while I was in bed. The only voice I could hear was the obnoxious mufflings of Bill Walton as he tripped through his comments about the league and of course himself. It's a give-in that every night he is on TV Walton will without a doubt mention the championships he won with the Celts and the Blazers through his inury riddled career. This fateful night the Clippers were playing the Nuggets and the other annoucer (Can't remember his name...I was half awake) mentioned a short stint that Walton had with the Clip-show. Walton then comments, "I was on three of the greatest teams in basketball history! The UCLA Bruins, Portland Trailblazers, and of course the Celtics. That Trailblazers team was the youngest team ever to win it all (This is the 3,459th time he has mentioned this...in January). But my worst experience was playing with the Clippers. I was always injured and only played in about 7 games!"
Then he drops the atom bomb:
"That was the darkest moment of my life...I'm a DISGRACE!"
COMPLETE silence was all you heard for about 30 seconds. I lept out of bed looking for my glasses to take a glance at the reaction to all those who heard this ludicrous self-loathing statement. When I finally focused I saw the befuddled Walton as he looked like he was about to put his head in his hands and mumble a DEAD jam to take himself to a happy place. The other commentators were in disbelief and nervously mentioned a meaningless play by Earl Watson. Then Walton perked up and proclaimed, "EARL WATSON! U-C-L-A LEGEND!
I then fell back into the most peaceful sleep knowing that that red haired mutant was back to his old self making outrageous statements about role players. Embrace Walton people. He will make you feel smarter and prettier than you have ever been before.

Lebron's choice to not to participate in the dunk contest in favor of the skills (or is it skillz) competition this All-Star weekend is another example of why he is so important to the NBA. Does anyone every say they are going to the bar, have some suds, and watch the skills competition? This is a competition reserved for people like Earl Boykins, and Earl Watson...Pretty much anyone named Earl. Now we have to watch to see what this man-child will do. He also has the best sitcom on television right now...the Lebrons of course.

The super flow with more jokes than Bazooka Joe

I have been quite busy these days and have not been able to post as frequently as before. If I could write on this thing everyday I would, but until that day here are some things that have invaded my mind recently.

Thoughts for thought:

Internet porn has desensitized those who have never even layed eyes on it.

It is also extremely racist. Google thugs and jugs...you will see exactly what I am talking about. One site (not the illustrious Thugs and Jugs) refers to the black porn "actors" as savages who have come to destroy blonde white chicks (I can't remember the exact name of this website, but that's a good thing). They portray these women as being violated completely because their "sexual" partners are black guys. Who gets off on this stuff? Well if David Lee Roth can get his own radio show I guess there is a demographic for everything. This has to be an issue somewhere, but is it appropriate to bring to the national media? OF COURSE IT IS! People will be glued to their sets as they looked at images of these web pages with pixalated spots covering up the good stuff. It will also give Kanye something to discuss following his appearance on the cover of Rolling Stone, where he is depicted as Jesus Christ.

Hey Tom Brady said he looks at porn on the internet so that makes me feel alot better about myself. I heard his poop doesn't even smell.

Have you ever seen a baby pigeon?

76er Lee Nailon http://www.nba.com/playerfile/lee_nailon/index.html just got locked up for beating his wife...he must have been pissed about me comparing him to Carlton from the Fresh Prince. Iverson is obviously the Fresh Prince in this whole debacle. Remember in the end the Fresh Prince became an Oscar Nominee, and Carlton ended up on a sitcom with LL Cool J.

Do people take Maxim magazine seriously?

MySpace.com is going to end is a gruesome way. The amount of information people post about themselves is shocking. This is like a handbook for all the creeps out there to pick and choose their next victim. Most of the participants have pictures of themselves, and many express the fact that they are looking for love. The need to reach out to others and share your experiences is normal, but people are putting so much of themselves out there without concern.

Remember the names Kara Borden and Daniel Ludwig?

Kara's 13-year-old sister, Katelyn, told investigators her parents were shot after they argued with Ludwig for about an hour, according to court papers. Katelyn said she saw Ludwig shoot her father, and then ran into the bathroom, where she heard a second shot, presumably the one that killed her mother, court papers said. Ludwig then ran through the house calling for Kara, she told investigators. The couple's 9-year-old son ran to the neighbors, who called 911. Police late Sunday issued an arrest warrant for Ludwig on charges of criminal homicide and kidnapping. Stephanie Mannon, 16, said Ludwig and Kara had been seeing each other secretly. "Their parents didn't approve of them being together" because of the age difference, she said. "It wasn't because he was a shady character, because he wasn't." Both Ludwig and Kara maintain Web sites. Hers refers to interests in soccer, art and her Christian faith; his says he enjoys "having soft air gun wars" and claims expertise in "getting in trouble."

These teens were exchanging info and X's and O's on a website just like MySpace.

I want to see this movie are least buy the poster:
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0390463/Ss/0390463/ScifighterPsterForIMDBsmll1.jpg?path=gallery&path_key=0390463

Your raps have no gift...like a lonely christmas

GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN!
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/01/11/ap/strange/mainD8F290T82.shtml

This is harrowing and shall haunt all onlookers forever! That creature belongs on the Island of Dr. Moreau. The one with Marlon Brando...not the H.G. Wells book that you most likely had to read the summer before your freshman year of high school.

Check out the trailer for the upcoming Sofia Coppola film Marie Antoinette. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422720/ New Order's Age of Consent is the soundtrack to Coppola's trailer depicting 17th century France, and it works...if you grew up watching MTV. Trailers have become music videos and music videos have become trailers. Kanye West's Jesus Walks worked so brilliantly with the trailer for Jarhead that it's emotional impact matched that of the film.
The trailer for Antoinette is reminiscent of an old Annie Lennox video where she is running around trying to avoid broken glass in an elegant evening gown. We see Marie (Kirsten Dunst) running around in her elegant gown to the dancing keyboard and brooding lyrics of Consent. The trailer isn't an exact replica of Lennox's video, but the influence is undeniable. Trailers and music videos use every ounce of their limited time to make an impact. The perfect recipe for our ADD riddled generation.
Music makes the movies and sometimes makes the trailer better than the movie. Why do you think so many people saw Dangerous Minds with Michelle Pfeiffer? http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112792/
Everyone was bumping their heads to that ludicrous Coolio jam wondering why we were so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me. If you can get a song to work with about 2 minutes of footage it's like magic. The viewer is immediately affected in some way because the combination of the two moved them.
Does this make the movie and the trailer one in the same? The trailer becomes and extension of the film and sometimes it's even better than the film itself. DVD's always have the trailers in their special features, which is important because trailers are a large part of the film they depict. A good trailer can't make a movie, but a good trailer is a damn good music video.

They lost touch with their bleeding hearts

When did the world of television commercials become so odd? What started this revolution of obscurity? Have you noticed they are competing for a level of randomness everytime we go to commercial break? Even Jimmy Dean's sausage ads have left us scratching our heads. They used to have the leather-faced Dean smiling and butter knifing through those delicious patties. His eyes sparking like the morning sun through his syrup bottle. He was so content with that steaming hog he was about to consume and he had our stomachs grumbling when he left the screen. What do they have now? A dude wearing a "sun suit" who shows up in the family kitchen and eats breakfast. His ray's "raise" when Jimmy Dean sausage is served, and you have to wonder about the sexual implications. It's just not the same old warming Jimmy Dean smiling back at me...it's simply randomness.
Who started the random commercial trend? It's very hard to pinpoint, but I would say that there are a few. Geico started making people swoon over a computer generated Gecko, and then they moved into the hilarious Caveman and reality show commercials. They mastered not even mentioning their product for more than 5 seconds, but pulled an audience in with their pop culture mash ups.
It's seems that Virgin mobile has taken it to a whole other level with their holiday "telethon" commerical. All those random characters such as a goat, wizard, gay elf, robot, and any other stereotype you can think of are answering phones. Nothing about the product but we are left with our chins on the floor cause we have just proclaimed, "What the FLETCH was that!"
These commercials drew inspiration from the Simpsons, who birthed the Family Guy, a show that has cornered the market on randomness. From left field is the new way to approach things. Generation Xers have seen it all before so killing us with kindness (Jimmy Dean) just isn't going to cut it anymore. We need to see something as random as the comments on an Urban Outfitters t-shirt. This trend of weirdness could shift back to the smiling old man promoting his product or things could just all become so odd that we don't even blink an eye next time. We wouldn't notice either way. Nothing ever changes and nothing is ever the same.

2005 ALBUM THAT I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ON MY PREVIOUS LIST:

DANGERDOOM
(MF Doom and Danger Mouse) www.dangerdoom.com

MF Doom might have propelled himself to the next nevel with this ludicrously infectious album, and Danger Mouse is simply a genius. This Adult Swim themed album is exactly what Swim showcases: a children's show remixed and reshaped into something that all age groups can shake their ass and minds too. MF rips through Mouse's beats like his mask is red hot, but it's the burn that feels good. Mouse's beat layering is the kind that makes you look in your rearview mirror to make sure their wasn't some ruckus happening on the road behind you. This album reminds me of OutKast's ATLiens because they are both soundtracks for intergalactic road trips.

Year of the Dragon or Tiger? NO WAY

2006 has started of great for my be the way...why? Because when I got in to work this morning the 4 foot 2 security guard came out of the bathroom shaking his head as I was walking into the office. I asked," What's wrong Reggie? He proclaimed, "I walked into the bathroom and someone left a shit floating in the toliet!" "OHH man", I relpy. He couldn't believe it. It was almost like someone left that shit in there for him be riddled with anguish after first glance. He then said, "Yeah man...not just some little terd...this shit was about as big as my ARM!" (Lifting his stubby arm into the sky) I laid down and asked for God to take me because I would have died in a state of uncontrollable laughter. There is no better sign that you are going to have a good year. This is the year of the arm lenghted poop for me...let's hope it's going to be a good one.

Come forward with whatever killed your spark

Tops of 2005

Albums for listening

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (self titled)

Talking Heads warpaint is spattered across the body of this band especially through the voice of lead singer Alec Ounsworth. Some might use this is a criticism, but Modest Mouse takes cues from the Heads and I bet you like them too.

My Morning Jacket "Z"

Outstanding voice, outstanding sound, and touches every genre of music you can imagine....even country. Don't compare them to anyone because you can't. Jim James' voice can reduce you to rubble, but there is hope there. His haunting pipes call for songs about misery but if you listen closely he isn't sad at all.

Kanye West "Late Registration"

They claim you never know what you got 'til it's GONE
I know I got it, I don't know what y'all on
I'ma open up a store for aspiring MC's
Won't sell 'em no dream, but the inspiration is free
But if they ever flip sides like Anakin
You'll sell everything includin the mannequin
They got a new bitch now you Jennifer Aniston

While listening to these lyrics in my car I immediately drove into a ditch. There is honesty in his contradictions not to mention some ludicrous beats here. I don't see Kanye's fire burning out anytime soon.

BLOC PARTY "Silent Alarm"

An electric album that doesn't step into the dreaded EMO realm, but sometimes teeters along the "jaded kid who is never going to find love" vibe. Like My Morning Jacket's album you will be deceived by the content in the songs when you listen to or read the lyrics. LUNO (off the album) will have you thinking about the friend we all have that has been lost in the shuffle.

Quote of the Year:
50 Cent has praised President Bush saying he wants to meet him.
The views contradict those of the likes of Kanye West who accused Bush of not caring about black people in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Fifty said:

"He's incredible... A gangster. I wanna meet George Bush, just shake his hand and tell him how much of me I see in him."

Film for viewing:

Capote

We all know what a beast Philip Seymour Hoffman is, but Clifton Collins Jr. ,as convicted murderer Perry Smith, http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004286/ reminded me of one of the Lost Boy's from Peter Pan who strayed to far from the island. Hoffman is pretty much guaranteed an Oscar nomination for his portrayl of Capote, and will most likely win. He has been nominated for the Golden Globes' "Best Actor in a Drama" category. Collins hasn't garnered a golden globe nomination, but maybe the Oscars will look a little closer at his portrayl of a death row inmate who is painfully manipulated by Capote. The film details the lengths that Capote went through to write his classic "In Cold Blood", which was based on true events.

Collins' description of why he killed a family is eerily reminiscent of River Phoenix's description of how people perceived him when he was accused of stealing the milk money at his elementary school in the beautiful STAND BY ME. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092005/ Phoenix's character in that film (CHRIS) talks about how he is labeled as a bad seed because of his social and familial status. He was the first one they looked to when the money was stolen from the school and they way people looked at him as a thief ripped his self confidence to shreds.

Chris: I just wish I could go someplace where nobody knows me. [He starts crying]

This is the famous quote from the film where Phoenix opens up to Wil Wheaton's character, Gordie, when all the other kids are sleeping. Collins' character, like Chris, is considered to be classed with the crumbs of society. In the film he admits that he didn't want to kill the people, while he was trying to rob them until he looked into the eyes of the father of the family.

Perry Smith: I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.

He looked at him like he was nothing but a mere scrub...a stain who adds nothing to society.

Moments like these make movies ooze through your bones, and that moment is why films like Capote and Stand By Me will stay with the viewer for a while. If Capote is still showing near you check it out, and go rent or buy STAND BY ME.

COCK OF THE YEAR:

Matt Lienhart :http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper410/stills/ysp91880.jpg

Maybe the best college quarterback in the history of time. He explained in an interview that women are knocking on his door at all hours of the night. This dude could wear an eye patch, black jeans, a Cosby sweater with a turtleneck, rub a hoagie all over his body (inducing a horrible B.O. stench) and would still have no trouble with females. Without a doubt his cock is the cock of the year.

All my lovely life I've been waitin'...hot heels anticipatin'

Yes the Eagles got blown to bits last night by a Seattle team that has been soaring of late. Yes Mike McMahon is oddly reminiscent of a male cheerleader when he is scampering around the field. Yes the the fans are practicing their boos when they take a shower in the morning instead of their singing skills, but did anyone see the unintentional product placement in the game last night? This product placement began when the Eagles put in a high school junior at quarterback, Koy Detmer. http://philadelphia.comcastsportsnet.com/images/content/eagles/koy.jpg
Koy has the symmetry of a basketball on top of a fridge when he walks out on the field. Does this guy need pop warner size shoulder pads? Not to mention his arms are about as thick as his fingers, and his first pass of the game last night hit the helmet of his own player causing an interception.
So as the game went on the unintentional product placement continued and it all became so clear that Koy Detmer was the model for the IRONMAN triathlon/watch symbol. Many of you might have owned one of the IRONMAN watches by Timex and we all know of the IRONMAN triathlon. Here are some examples: http://www.ironmanstore.com/irshskcap.html
http://www.ironmanstore.com/20trtee.html Note the M in the IRONMAN symbol? It looks like Koy Detmer when he has his pads on. He should be the official sponsor for IRONMAN instead of a third string QB. He would have to wear full pads if he were to do this, and could make some nice scratch after he retires as IRONMAN's mascot. Imagine Koy you could buy all the pairs of Wranglers you want if you took that job.


I haven't resorted back to my old movie poster fun, but I decided to bring out a classic.

WOW...doesn't this seem a little racist?

http://www.impawards.com/1981/carbon_copy.html

DEEP IN MY HEART - THAT'S WHERE THE KNOT COMES LOOSE.

The New MJ

The Sixers aquired Forward Lee Nailon http://www.nba.com/playerfile/lee_nailon/index.html
this offseason, and he comes off the bench and does some dirty work for us when the starters are resting their pulsating lungs. He averaged a team high 14 points for the New Orleans Hornets last season so it was a good pickup, but he carries a ghost with him from last season. That would be the ghost of Philly's own Marc Jackson http://www.nba.com/playerfile/marc_jackson/index.html . Why does he carry this ghost around like Slimer driving the bus in Ghostbusters you might ask? Because he feels the need to shoot the second the fucking ball touches his hands. He is shooting 50% from the field but only averages about 13 mintues per game. This is not a bad thing, but would it decline with more minutes? Marc Jackson did it because he couldn't help it. Lee is different. He has the Carlton Banks syndrome. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/d/de/Carlton_lg.jpg/180px-Carlton_lg.jpg
Many of you might remember the episode of the Fresh Prince when Carlton was jealous of Will because he was dominating hardwood at their Bel Air Prep school. The real reason that Will was dominating was because he was playing on Michael J Fox's team from Teen Wolf, and on 8 foot rims.
ANYWAY... back to the fateful episode when Carlton predicted the career of Lee Nailon. Bel Air prep was playing their rivals, who looked like the team from HANG TIME (a saturday morning show on NBC in the 90's that was ludicrous because they were coached by Reggie Theus and a girl was their leading scorer)http://img.epinions.com/images/opti/8a/89/kifmNetworkNBCHang_Time-resized200.jpg . The Hang Time team was a group of "John Stockons" because their shorts were revealing and they we wearing LA Gears.
The whole game Will is ball hogging and dunking on the Stockons like Pee Wee Kirkland in a prison leage game, but one person in that arena wasn't cheering. That person was Carlton. So with about 5 seconds on the clock Bel Air Prep is down by one and calls time. The play is called for Will of course. Carlton grimaces like Scottie Pippen when they told Kukoc to take the final shot.
The play begins, Will is at the top of the key with ball in hand, and low and behold it's stolen. Not by Hang Time, but by Carlton! Carlton rips the ball out of Will's hands and decides that he is going to take the final shot. Will raises his arms in astonishment as he watches what transpires. In the most unathletic fashion imaginable Carlton launches a bomb from the three point line. The ball doesn't even touch the backboard. It just bounces off the wall of the gym and dramatically falls to the floor. Uncle Phil is utterly disgusted in both of the boys as his fat head shakes above that sweater that was always hanging from his shoulders.
Lee Nailon has that Carlton look in his eye as soon as he checks in. One of these days he is going to run over to Kevin Ollie, rip the ball out of his hands and throw it against the scoreboard causing an shower of sparks to fall on the floor of the Wachovia Center. Bill Walton will be doing the game and say, "This is the SADDEST day in the NBAAAAAAA." Mo Cheeks will play Uncle Phil shaking his head in disgust as Kevin Ollie raises his arms in astonishment. I love this game.

Ms Jones sent this link:
http://www.wordpress.tokyotimes.org/?p=702

I am just a dreamer but you are just a dream

"You won't see it comin' down my eye...So I gotta make the song cry"

You are like a hurricane
There's calm in your eye.
And I'm gettin' blown away
To somewhere safer
where the feeling stays.
I want to love you but
I'm getting blown away.

-Like a Hurricane by Neil Young

These are the type of lyrics that can knock you down if you aren't holding yourself up. Neil Young's beatifully haunting voice accentuates the feelings in these words when they rattle through your ear canal. Young has never been afraid to show us his vulnerability, and this song is a perfect example. All you need to hear or read is this chorus and Young's self doubt rings true. Men can be extrememly self conscious but never want to express or admit it. Of course you have groups like the Cure and Joy Division that had boys with eyeliner crying on each others shoulders, but Neil Young is more like the sad drifter. He isn't the jaded kid from the suburbs who made it as a rock star. He's a lonely cowboy who lets his songs do all the crying.
This woman he speaks of in this song is way out of his realm. He doesn't feel that he is up to par with this lady causing him to speak to her in such a tragically romantic way. He want's to love her, but she is just too much. Maybe he feels she is out of his league and that he would have trouble trusting her. Maybe she exudes confidence that he could never connect with. She has everything and he feels he has about half of what she gracefully carries.
We have all seen this woman from across the bar. Rapidly moving our eyes up to the television when she glances in our direction. Simply window shopping knowing that we can't afford the goods behind the glass.

He talks about you in his sleep

The Moving Picture Show

Movies can move you just like any other art form, and there is always that one scene, quote, expression or song that will make the viewer vulnerable. Even if you don't necessarily like a film it can still be validated by that one special moment that makes your eyes well up a little. That one scene that makes you forget that there is a guy with a beret and one of those folding chairs with their names on it behind the camera. These moments are hard to pinpoint and vary from person to person, which makes them even more exhilirating. Here are some that have been dug up from my bottomless pit of a skull:

Fred Jung: Money isn't real, George. It doesn't matter. It only seems like it does.
Young George: Are you gonna tell Mom that?
Fred Jung: Yeah, that's gonna be a tricky one.

This is from BLOW, which I am not a huge fan of, but the father son relationship in this film gives me the chills every time I see it. George's allegiance to his father is unparalled and Fred Jung never harps on the fact that George makes his money off the vice's of others. Just the way he says it to young George will send shivers down to your toenails.

Frank White: How come you never came to see me?
Jump: Who wanted to see you in a cage, man?

This quote is from King Of New York, which is an extremely underrated early 90's urban crime film that without a doubt influenced Tarrantino and those who followed. Christopher Walken plays this Robin Hood of a drug dealer, who might be the coldest cat to ever be put on film. In this scene Frank's voice is filled with sincerity and anger and Jump pauses for a minute, and comes up with this sorry answer. Frank knows that Jump is selfish and this scene sets up the rest of the film and the relationship between the two.

Chas Tennenbaum: I've had a rough year Dad
Royal Tennenbaum: I know son...I know

This soul crushing quote is from The Royal Tennenbaums, and might be the most crucial line in the film. This is at the very end when everything comes together and Chas looses his shit right before this scene because his dog has just been run over by a drugged out Owen Wilson. Chas's relationship with his father is almost non existent up to this point, but when Ben Stiller delivers this line as his voice cracks...it's all over.

Jim: I can't remember what my parents look like.

This line is from Empire of the Sun, which is Spielberg's most underrated film. This movie is about a boy who is a war prisoner, but lifts the spirits of the other detainees with this undying optimism. He recites this line at a breaking point when he realizes what his life has become. He isn't going to be back home eating dinner with Mom and Dad anytime soon, and that fact hits him square in the jaw. Christian Bale does a wonderful job portraying a child's percpetion of war. (In this film it is WWII)

Jim Kurring: I lost my gun today when I left you and I'm the laughingstock of a lot of people. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know and it's on my mind. And it makes me look like a fool. And I feel like a fool. And you asked that we should say things - that we should say what we're thinking and not lie about things. Well, I can tell you that, this, that I lost my gun today - and I am not a good cop. And I'm looked down at. And I know that. And I'm scared that once you find that out you may not like me.

John C Reilly pretty much dominates every role that is given to him, and he puts it all together with this quote from Magnolia. He plays the role of the good cop in this movie so well that his innocence starts to inject itself into your own mind. He is the good samaritan by default and his impeccable honesty and humanity are on display in this wonderful scene.

There are many many more, and when I think of them I will post them to the 3 people who actually look at this thing.

There is no modern romance

Halloween is an amazing holiday because people feel if they aren't dressed as themselves then there is no reason to act like themselves. If a study was done on how many "non-dancers" dance when they are out for halloween the number of "non-dancers" would greatly diminish. The dance floor at a bar or party on Halloween is reminiscent to the graveyard scene in the Thriller video. As soon as the music starts all the zombies get a little kick in their step. The undead start to shake and jiggle and when they hear Michael's voice and it's all over. The night has begun and you are going to stay on that dance floor, and try to get the chick who is dressed up as Tinkerbell to bob for apples with you late night. Why not dance if you are dressed like a ghoul?
If you have a costume that is original and somewhat subtle you have done the holiday some service. All the girls who wear the black cat ears on their heads...you need a new costume. Leave that costume to the 3rd grade English teacher to wear to school during the holiday season. The Hooters outfit on girls and guys needs to go as well. The mullet wig, cut off jeans, and Gwar t-shirts need to be put to rest. Why not start wearing tight BLACK jeans and one of those shirts that changes colors when you touch it. Now that is a good white trash/sweaty dude outfit. Come one people come up with something new!

Here are some Haloween suggestions for next year for you fools:

JOHN MCLANE FROM DIE HARD: all you need is a wife beater, khakis, scruffy beard and no shoes. If you really want to be creative tape a gun to your back.

SUPERMAN: Classic costume that isn't used as much as it should be. You get to wear a cape too. Too many Batmans this year.

DAVID BOWIE: Another costume that is easy...just wear ALOT of makeup...especially eyeliner. You can even wear a shirt and tie, and still pull off Bowie.

STEVE ZISSOU (or any member of team Zissou): This is what I wore this year. It's easy because all you need is blue pants and a shirt and a red skull cap. Not many people knew who I was but those who did loved it.

LAWRENCE TAYLOR: Just need a jersey and some football pants. This guy is such a character to begin with that once you tell people you are the former hooker ordering deviant you will garner instant respect. Speaking of crackheads....

TYRONE BIGGUMS: This is another easy costume. Just wear dirty smelly clothes and eat a powdered doughnut. You will look like Chapelle in no time and will be the hit of the party.

GHOSTBUSTERS: You need to put ALOT of work into this costume, but if you pull it off you are a legend.

RON BURGUNDY: Grow a moustache and wear a turtleneck and sportcoat...that simple.

NINO BROWN: Just dress in some fly 80's gear...silk shirt, double breasted sportcoat, black pants and sunglasses. You can actually get three cotumes from New Jack City. Pooky could be done if you wear and american flag button up shit and look like a crackhead. G-Money could be done just like Nino, BUT distinguish yourself with a gunshot wound. Remember Nino Brown killed his own brother. Right before he shot him he proclaims, "AM I MY BROTHERS KEEPER!" Great overacting in that scene.

There you go. Now no one will know who you are next October 31st.

Just need to admit that I want sugar in my tea

The People in your Television

Question to all of you out there who loved staying home from school and watching the Price is Right. There was always a bold line between good and bad TV when you were home from school as a kid. You could flip through the channels and be stuck in the horrible foggy world of the soap opera OR you could hit an amazing rerun of a show that they just don't make anymore. For instance have you ever seen the episode of What's Happening when the Doobie Brothers made a guest appearance? ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074071/ ...I hope most of you have seen this wonderful show, but I put the link just in case you are a complete clown) The Doobie Brothers are putting on a concert in the neighborhood so of course they befriend Rerun when they come to town. Honestly who wouldn't befriend the guy? He wears colorful Jeff Caps and suspenders. So Rerun, Raj, and Dwayne decide to go catch the show, which was oddly being held in something that looked like an elementary school auditorium.
The show begins and of course Rerun is practically snapping the tiles off the floor with his dance moves. The members of Doobie Brothers are even admiring Rerun as they play under their Cousin It hairstyles. The band members glance over a few times to give Rerun and smile and head nod. A "silent shout out" if you will.
Then those shot outs turn to looks of astonishment as they discover that Rerun was hiding something beneath those suspender supported trousers. As Rerun begins to do a one-footed 360 spin a clunky piece of equipment drops out of his pants. Rerun was trying to illegally record the show!!!! He wasn't being very conspicuos either. In fact the recorder he was trying to hide wasn't a little hand held tape recorder...it was a HUGE panasonic tape deck that was about as big as his left thigh. Rerun had no excuse and they band was so upset that they stopped playing. Raj with a disgusted look on his face questions Rerun: "Don't you know that this is illegal?" The innocent looking Rerun had NO idea and is shocked that everyone is so upset. Then they all decide, band as well, to listen to what he has taped so far. Turns out Rerun forgot to push the Record button and all they could hear was him eating some popcorn before the show. (Note: this was an actual episode I saw on a sick day...it wasn't the cough syrup I was taking either)
Then everyone is elated that Rerun didn't illegally record anything and the Doobie Brothers proceed with their show. Everything is well in the land of television. Rerun was ahead of his time...not just in fashion sense, but in the music piracy world as well. He could have put that show on the Net and got about a million downloads. Thank god he wasn't taping a Metallica show...Lars Ulrich would have jumped off the stage and stabbed him.
Watch this show if you have a chance. They had some of the most obscure plot lines in television history. Rerun even joined a food worshipping cult in one episode! Stay home from work/school one of these days and enjoy the television.

Download "Jolene" by the White Stripes. It is a Dolly Parton cover, and it will rip your soul to pieces.

A hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore

He's the BOSS now

This past weekend I decided to travel to D.C. to see some old friends from college because it was homecoming weekend. I knew that I would run into random people and have painful conversations with them about what I am doing with my life these days. I should just make index cards with my job, living situation, and love life all mapped out so I could just hand them to the dude from my Anthropology class who I haven't seen since my last Anthropology class. Many of these annoying encounters became part of this weekend but nothing prepared me for the person I bumped into when I arrived in D.C. via train on Saturday afternoon. As I was leaving Union Staion, which is a beautiful building, I saw a sharp looking man in a red NYPD shirt. I was entering my buddy's Jeep and I noticed that this man in front of us looked wildy familiar. It was the star of The Garbage Picking Field Goal Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0142306/) who is none other than: TONY DANZA! So as soon as I notice that it is him I starting yelling in an obnoxiously stereotypical New York/Guido manner. I just constantly shout : TONY....TONNNNAAAAA.....TOOOONNNEEEEEEEE. You can imagine how it sounded. So he is about 5 feet away and I am just hanging out the window screaming at the star of Angels in the Outfield. He starts looking pretty peeved and puts his head down like he just lost the role of himself in the Who's the Boss movie to Freddie Prinze Jr. Then we literally pull up next to his car, and I am almost blue from screaming and he finally looks up and says, "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!" Mind you he is saying this in a stereotypical New York/Guido accent. He then proclaims, "I AM WITH MY WIFE!" Then Tony decides to send a shockwave through the District with one lewd hand gesture. He put his hand in front of his hairy midsection and gave me the jerk off hand gesture! You know the imaginary jerk off move that people do when they are talking to or see someone who they think is a complete jerk off. He just stood there made a vile face and did the"jerk off" right in broad daylight in the District of Columbia. Tony fuckin' Danza just flat out blasted me to pieces with the "jerk off" hand gesture. I could have hopped on a train and went right back to Philly and I still would have considered it an amazing weekend.

HYBRID MOMENTS

I saw another fake celebrity this weekend as well. I was sitting on a bar stool Friday night when another familiar face walked up to the bar that almost knocked me down. It was a "fake" version of the lead singer of Nickelback, which might be the most deplorable band ever.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38103000/jpg/_38103999_nickelback300.jpg This version was much shorter and pudgier, but nonetheless HILARIOUS. So as I turn to my friend to proclaim this great find he turns to me and says, "COREY FELDMAN." More like a Burbs era Corey Feldman, but it was a great call. Being able to watching Feldman/Nickelback gag after taking shots of Jagermeister all night made my evening. So on Friday I saw a hybrid Feldman/Nicelback and on Saturday I was silently called a jerk off by Tony Danza.

Got a new bitch now you're Jennifer Aniston

Flip Flops and black Nike socks...

David Stern is proposing a dress code for NBA players when they are on court, and traveling to and from arena's. I have always had respect for David Stern, but this is taking it just one drop step to far. He handled the Pacers-Pistons brawl better than I ever imagined. That was one of the saddest nights in the history of sports, and he made sure we all remembered that. Maybe that incident made him feel more like the image he was worked himself into: The High School Disciplinarian. First the age limit, and now this? The age limit doesn't bode well for me based one one simple fact. When you are 18 you are considered an adult. If you can vote and go to war then you certainly have to option of taking a chance at a lucrative life long dream that could benefit you and your family. Michelle Wie, who is a 15 year old golf prodigy has just turned pro and signed deals with Nike? Why her and not a high school basketball stud? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Now the guy is going to tell players how to dress? This reminds me of my high school (Prep School) days when I would get detention for not having my shirt tucked in. There was always the kid who forgot to bring his sport coat to class. There was always the kid who wore his Air Max's instead of his hush puppies. There was always the kid who had too much facial hair, and those guys were sent to the Dean's office to shave it off! Is David Stern the NBA version of a high school Dean of Students at a school with a dress code? He needs to relax, and revel in the fact that he got the age limit implemented. That alone is astonishing.
I can see a young Allen Iverson walking down the hall in my high school with his shirt untucked and rocking a pair of all black Jordan IV's. Then David Stern would come out of the office and hand him a JUG slip.

You've got to tolerate all those people that you hate

Did you notice that everything looks like an Ipod now? That sleak streamlined design is catching on everywhere. Cars are even beginning to look like Ipods: http://abcnews.go.com/Business/wireStory?id=1172068 .
Like cell phones Ipods can be compared to luxury cars. They multiply and mutate like mogwai's after a midnight snack. Every bell and whistle is upstaged by someting like an ICEE machine in your glove box that serves atkins friendly ICEE's for drivers and passengers alike. The rapid growth of these gadgets or "bling" if you must is astounding. They have become extensions of ourselves and certainly our fashion sense. The boom of these hand held music makers is similar to the growth of the walkman. When the walkman first came out they were ridiculousy overpriced, but came in so many different syles and colors:
http://www.inmplc.com/annualreport97/images/walkman.jpg
http://www.tekniskamuseet.se/upload/Samlingar/walkman.jpg
http://molly.open.ac.uk/pictures/2004/Nov/walkman1.jpg
http://www.audiogold.co.uk/catalogue/images/BIG_Sony%20Walkman%20WM%202.JPG
The one thing about the Ipod that is striking is the fact that it is dominating the market not only because of it's capabilites, but because of it's look. Sure there are different colors and sizes, but when stripped down they are all the same. The window with that beautiful light. The rectangular frame, and the wheel...ohh the wheel. There wouldn't be a wheel if it weren't for the mouse that you are scrolling right now. It's the same concept, and the evolution of technology becomes Darwinian. Think of your ipod as an '05 SUV, and your Walkman as a Cruk...half car..half truck :http://www.angelfire.com/falcon/steph1/images/81brat.jpg . In case you were wondering that is a 1981 Subaru Brat. The concept of an SUV, but years away from perfection. It's all relative folks...pretty soon you're going to be walking down the street and not even flinch when you see this:
http://permanent.nouvelobs.com/cgi/edition/aff_photo?cle=20050327.OBS2324&offset=3
Even the ipod wannabee's look like ipods, and those with ipod wannabees usually hide their fake ipods because they are ashamed. Like when Reebok came out with the Pump everyone was rocking them to gym class, but Nike tried to get in the inflatable shoe gimmick game too. They made a shoe that you needed to pump with an actual hand held pump! The mini basketball/tennis ball pump was an appealing design like your ipod. The Nike "pump" like all the fake Ipods have a bland clunky design that people just didn't pick up on.

http://www.pickyourshoes.com/images/shoes/pump_omni_red_wheat_10.jpg --THE IPOD

http://www.soccershopusa.com/Merchant2/graphics/00000001/page_99_44_small.jpg
--- ANY OTHER MUSIC PLAYER

Apple revived the world of the portable music player, and they did it with style. Everyone has one and even though they all look the same we feel as though we are adding a flower to our lapel everytime we strut along the sidewalk with those skinny white wires that could be connected to our souls.