Thankful #7: Fags

The strongest memories of my father are him with Fags, so that’s what I’m thankful for today. He always had them with him; at work, at home, on vacation, it didn't matter. I never really cared for them much myself, but I remember going to the UK and people asking me if I knew where they could find them. I always told them Kentucky, because we produced more fags there than they had in their entire country. The scent of a nice, strong fag brings back a lot of memories.

God hates fags, 

because they cause cancer. 

Thankful #6: Electricity

I’m thankful for Electricity because there is nothing greater than harnessing that which can potentially kill you. I imagine someone was out walking in a thunderstorm when a friend of theirs was struck and killed. Out of revenge, they captured it and forced it into slavery. We've had the internet ever since. Did you know that it takes three times the energy to view my blog compared to the average one? I just made that up, but I’m still thankful for electricity. 

Al Gore enslaving electricity shortly before inventing the internet.

Thankful #5: Doctors and Dentists

I’m thankful for Doctors and Dentists. You might notice I mentioned double D’s. I’m a guy, so get over it. Everyone should see one of each at least once a year (Doctors and Dentists, too), because the number of things that can kill you constantly increases and the number one cause of losing teeth is not brushing them. Who would have thought? However, not everyone knows that going to the dentist could prevent you from having to go to the doctor. Poor oral hygiene may increase your chance of heart attack and stroke, as well as getting laid by someone with good oral hygiene. 

Sharks eat both doctors and dentists, 

therefor do not need to see either. 

Thankful #4: Camouflage

I am very thankful for the many uses of Camouflage. While I’m sure you’re thinking of various woodsy colors, I’m talking about the more general form, where even Ku Klux Klansmen could go undetected at a textile factory, so long as they turned sideways (Klansmen are two-dimensional and lack depth.) The uses of camo are limited only to man’s imagination.

 The entire 3rd Ranger Battalion of the United States Army
are hidden in this picture. Can you find them?

Thankful #3: Bees

I am thankful for Bees for several reasons. One, their name sounds exactly like the first letter of their name. Two, they make honey and wax. Three, they've never stung me. If you know a bee by name and say it five times in the mirror before turning out the lights, they will appear and kill you. 

This bee is the embodiment of awesome, being able to kill instantly
anyone who looks into it; the clock was an optional upgrade.

Thankful #2: Aardvarks

Probably German and meaning yard work, the 2nd thing I am thankful for are Aardvarks because their name is so awesome it requires two of the same letter at the beginning, a distinct advantage when listing things alphabetically, or when playing scrabble and someone spells the word ark. Other than that, these things are useless and look like a pig mated with a raccoon. 

This is the only aardvark that walks like George Jefferson. 

Thankful #1 and List (30 Days of Thanksgiving)

This list is at least challenging and potentially fun. I've only seen it on Facebook, so maybe I am the first one to bring it to Blogger. To be a dick, I will include each one as a separate entry. I will periodically update my list, and only the list, of things I am thankful for throughout my blog entries for this month. My list here will vary from my list on Facebook in that each thing (after the first and very special one) will start with a letter of the alphabet.
It’s very difficult for me to find 30 things to be thankful for all year, let alone 1 each day, but I must admit that I am thankful someone on this great planet shares the same exact feelings as I do, or at least enjoys reading about my feelings, unless all of my readers are random hobos stumbling in and I don’t even have regulars, aside from my loose connection of friends; I rule. I guess the 1st thing I am thankful for is my readers.

Some people still prefer my pre-blog format. 

1. You Guys
2. Aardvarks  
3. Bees
4. Camouflage
5. Dentists and Doctors
6. Electricity
7. Fags
8. Google
9. Hell
10. Insanislupus
11. John Fogerty
12. Knives
13. Lions
14. Marijuana
15. McHammer
16. Nike
17. Oxygen
18. Putt-Putt
19. Quotes
20. Railroads
21. Slayer
22. Tomahawks
23. Uranus
24. Vinyl Records
25. Werewolves
26. Xylophones
27. Yeomen
28. Zzz
29. Keyboard Characters
30. Everything Else

I Have Returned

Am I the only one that notices people stress themselves out over going on vacation? That more or less defeats the purpose. I had 1 for 11 days, worked 2 and then had another 5 days off. Day one of my vacation was spent sleeping for 12 hours and disrupting my already irregular sleep pattern. It takes years off your life, but so do impending doomsdays that stress us out as they loom above our head. It just now dawned on me that Fruit of the Loom, who make underwear, have the word loom in their name, which is something normally large and threatening. Internet lulz galore. Thou hath discovered the Boots of Force, young Jedi. 

Daily Quote 10/31/2012

“If there’s any doubt, there is no doubt.” – Larry Fishburne

Daily Quote 10/20/2012

"Stop quoting me to try and look cool." —Hunter S. Thompson

Have It Your Way

Why the hell do fast food restaurants hand you your drinks without straws? I understand it's hard to have the most common items on your menu ready and I have to pull up like some dipshit that special ordered like health was the key issue when ordering fast food. But when you hand me two drinks with no straws, how the hell am I supposed to drink them? No, I'm not taking the lid off, because it's cheap plastic that will more than likely break when pressed on again. In the rare event you're given your straws with your drinks, they always have additional straws in the bag of food they give you. You can always keep these for the next time they hand you your drinks without straws, but then there is the problem that this event is rare to begin with. Screw you, McDonald's (generic for all fast food).

Stop Making Up Stories On the Internet

...or Stop Sharing Made Up Stories On the Internet. 

"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he wasn't Kevin Spacey." —Keyser Söze

A little story:

I was walking down the street the other day when I noticed a group of homophobic, Jewish, Republicans from Texas physically assaulting a gay, atheist, Democrat (with tattoos and piercings as well as a 3.9 GPA in economics.) I just simply couldn't stand by like the rest of humanity and watch this poor man be treated like that, so I decided to make a stand. Together we defeated all of the homophobic, Jewish, Republican, rapist, space invaders, pretending to be from Texas. It turns out that the person they were actually beating on was my long lost sweetheart from high school and we quickly went and got married; she's now expecting and our courageous deeds have saved mankind for another one-thousand years.

The moral of this story is I spin wildly retarded tales on the internet to make me and the morons who think like me feel less guilty for being insignificant in a world where they only support the call for change while behind their IP addresses. And people will share them.

If you have not seen stories as ridiculous as this on the internet, consider yourself lucky (unless you are blind and your seeing eye dog is reading this to you.) Sadly, I am not making this formula up or the fact that people constantly share this crap out of their perceived empathy.

These stories are so obviously bullshit because there is no way you can tell that much information about people by simply looking at them. Have you ever heard a cop call dispatch for an APB looking for a white male in his 40's that plays Magic the Gathering and drinks Corona every Saturday night? No, because this information isn't readily available and it's all information you couldn't possibly guess without having a conversation with someone. I have no clue what religion someone is (and don't care) unless they're repenting the following morning. Believe it or not, you work with people of different religious, political, cultural, social, psychological, astronomical, necronomical beliefs than you and you'll probably never know what theirs are, because they have no reason to tell you (and if you did and yours were different, they would assault you.)

100% Chance of Not Knowing the Definition of Chance

Chance /CHans/
Noun: A possibility of something happening. 

It really pisses me off whenever I check the weather and see that there is a 100% chance of rain. That's the same thing as saying it will rain. These numbers usually show up whenever it is already raining outside. Cloudy means there's a 50% chance. But then there is actually a chance and not a guarantee, which 100% chance implies. Some of you might argue that they are rounding to the nearest ten, but then that is false reporting. If condom makers said condoms were 100% effective, they'd be lying. Instead they say they reduce the chances of pregnancy, STD  and getting off. If I told you there was a 100% chance of rain and you didn't carry an umbrella, it'd be your fault. If I said condoms were 100% effective and you got AIDS after using one, it would be my fault. In conclusion, there is a 100% chance you could get AIDS if it rains. 

The 8th Annual October Horror Movie Challenge

"Thirty one days, thirty one (31) horror movies. 
At least sixteen (16) must be first time views. 
The Challenge starts on October 1, 12:00AM (your time zone) 
The Challenge ends on November 1 6:00AM (your time zone)"

I will now be blogging about the subjectivity of horror.

"The difference between Terror and Horror is the difference between awful apprehension and sickening realization: between the smell of death and stumbling against a corpse." — Devendra Varma

"Terror is usually described as the feeling of dread and anticipation that precedes the horrifying experience. By contrast, horror is the feeling of revulsion that usually occurs after something frightening is seen, heard, or otherwise experienced." — Wikipedia

In short, if you a) think it is horror, and b) are not a moron, it counts. A technical example that was once included and allowed was Full Metal Jacket (1987), because "the experience of war is something I will never forget."

I will be posting a list of my viewings with random thoughts on each. I normally try to watch nothing but new horror films, but I always get so many bad ones I usually switch over to ones I've already seen after suffering through sixteen crappy ones. 

Optional Challenges

For those of you who like to crunch numbers:

Golgo-13 Bonus Challenge 

Shortest Movie: 

Longest Movie: 

Busiest Day: 

Average Length: 

Total Length: 

For those of you who like vampires:

Alchemie's Vampire Challenge

"Watch 17 vampire films during the October Horror Movie Challenge starting October 1st at midnight YOUR time - with at least 8 of them being first time views, and write a review of at least one sentence in poetic form. If more than one person does this, I will pick which one had the best poems. 

You may reply here to either ask vampire or rules questions OR start by logging your nickname space. Save your movie watches though, in case this ends up getting deleted.

You can win your choice of a FREE copy of either: 

Midnight Kiss (1993-DVD) 

OR Blood Ties (1991-VHS) 

OR Perfect Creature (2006-DVR-Region 2)"

For those of you who rule:

The Insanislupus Full Moon Challenge

Normally the rules would change every single year so that a fresh new challenge would await all participants and I see nothing abnormal about this year (aside from the fact it will be cut short by an apocalypse.) 

This year's challenge is "How many werewolf films can you watch the night of October 29th, under the full moon, starting as soon as the moon is visible to the naked eye, and ending when it is not?"

The winner will receive 29 words, no more, no less, about how they rule in their own blog entry. 

Daily Quote 09/28/2012

"Am I not destroying my enemies when I make friends of them?" —Abraham Lincoln

Daily Quote 09/26/2012

"I'm fat, but I'm thin inside... there's a thin man inside every fat man." —Santa Claus

Daily Quote 09/24/2012

"Hollywood is a place where they'll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul."  — Marylin Monroe

Daily Quote 09/21/2012

"Nothing is certain except death and taxes." —Saint Matthew

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Matthew

Western Sky Loans

If you're clueless, there are plenty of advertisements for Western Sky loans, a Cheyenne River Sioux finance company. The commercials depict a squaw rapidly telling you how to get an affordable, overnight loan of up to $10,000 with an APR as high as 342.86%. I'm not joking. These rates have appalled people to the point of outrage. But let us do some math. The majority of people who live in the United States are descendants of people who took the 3,794,101 square miles of land initially inhabited by the Indians and this particular tribe now inhabits 4,267 square miles of it. So if we take that 4,267 and divide it by 3,794,101, we're left with .1% of the original land they could have inhabited. Now I know that you're thinking this is an unfair calculation, since not all of the Indians were forced to live on this particular amount of land and their original roamings were not all over the entire country. But life's not fair, unlike these loans which no one is forced to take out.

http://www.westernsky.com/

Daily Quote 09/19/2012

"I don't want to belong to any club that would accept me as a member." —Groucho Marx

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groucho_marx

Daily Quote 09/17/2012

"Do not take life too seriously; You will never get out of it alive." —Elbert Hubbard

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elbert_Hubbard

Daily Quote 09/15/2012

"I think, from all I can learn, that heaven has the better climate, but hell has the better company." —Benjamin Wade

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benjamin_Wade

Daily Quote 09/11/2012

"Build nothing there. It’s been bombed twice. I think that’s enough for one area."  —Therapeutic Musings

http://tonictherapy.blogspot.com/2012/09/patriot-day.html

You’re Working Retail; Get Off Your Pedestal.

Every time I go to a pharmacy and the actual pharmacist isn’t there supervising their technicians, I get nothing but attitude. It’s bad enough when I have to wait five minutes for you to stop surfing the internet before you acknowledge I’m waiting in line at 3 AM, but it’s even worse when I see you roll your eyes when I ask for my prescription. Sorry for making you do the job you went to school and trained for, but looking through a bin for something that has already been filled is less likely to kill you than I am.  

Check My Signature, Please!

Every time I go through a drive through and hand them my debit card, they flip it over to look at the back, which is not signed, and then slide it anyway. You’re supposed to ask me for my ID, especially since it’s not signed, or refuse it outright. How many times has that happened? None. Ever. So much for trying to protect my identity and finances.   

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb or: Dr. Strangelove

Two major events happened this past month. 

One, for the first time ever, I had more Russian readers than from Germany, Canada, The United Kingdom, and the United States, my native country. This either means that people across the Russian Federation enjoy reading my blog, or have fallen for my trick of tagging every post with “how to obtain nukes.” A fellow blogger at Therapeutic Musings suggested that my posts may be more interesting over vodka (and sales are up, so I take full credit.)

Two, and the part that saddens me, is that Internet Explorer beat out Safari, Firefox, and Chrome as the most used internet browser. I use Chrome, which took some time getting used to, but I now loathe anything else. Sure, we’ve got a head start on democracy and you still live under an oppressive regime we could never imagine, but why have a similar web surfing experience? 

It was not long ago that we put our differences aside and one of your cosmonauts assisted our very own Bruce Willis in destroying an impending meteor destined to destroy Earth. I ask all of you for that solidarity again and to try any of the aforementioned browsers. 

Daily Quote 09/02/2012

"If we want to win, we’ve got to kill Japs." —Dr. Seuss.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr._Seuss

Gay Marriage and Abortion

I’m pretty sure if the two most important issues to you in the upcoming election are gay marriage and abortion, you have no clue what an important issue is in our country right now. Do us all a favor and stop listening to what ads are telling you. Obama is NOT going to pass any gay marriage legislation. Romney is NOT fully against abortion. If you had paid attention to what they both actually said on these issues, you might have a different opinion about them. I’ll still be voting for anyone but them. 

Traffic Directors

What makes people think they get to play traffic director whenever they come to a stop sign? The reason I’m waiting is because you were at the stop sign first, not because I need your permission to go. Don’t wave me on; I’ve already got it figured out that you’re a dumb ass that doesn’t know how to drive.

Armstrong

Armstrong is a tough name. It just sounds like a guy who travels carnivals to test the high striker, swinging the mallet with all of his might, until the puck smashes through the top, (DING!) before floating off into space. They eventually ban him from future competitions after he collects an entire zoo of giant, stuffed animals. Two Armstrongs were in the news this week. 

Lance won 7 Tour de France titles, after beating cancer, and with only one testicle. With half a sack he has more balls than everyone else. Rather than fight drug allegations, he told the USDA to bike over a cliff. Who can blame him? He’s already a champion and while they can determine which foods he can legally eat, they don’t make the decision to take his titles away. That’s the University of California, Irvine’s job. Was it a bad thing he took drugs? Sure. Look at professional wrestling. Once the steroids came into use, the entire sport became fake. But this is Lance Armstrong, and he should have drug-fueled guns to hold onto his handlebars with.

Neil walked on the moon. Let us not fall prey to ridiculous conspiracy theories about a faked lunar landing. Sadly, it’s obvious that NASA had him killed over his objection to the Mars rover. He proved that man, not machines, should be walking through the solar system. Instead we get a tent made of candy bar wrappers and golf clubs, built on wheels.  You cannot battle aliens with a roll of aluminum foil. A veteran of the Lunar Wars, Neil Armstrong had to swing a mallet, in space with gravity against him, in order to launch extra-terrestrials into orbit (DING!), so they could be the first to plant their flags. We won, you grey/green bastards.

However, I believe in compromise. I propose a new doping program for our astronauts, one in which we create Armstrong Schwarzenneger, an elite space Marine, who can throw hammers and breath fire at his opponents, all while riding a unicycle. Now I need to go work on some design plans.  

Daily Quote 08/25/2012

"I am become Death, destroyer of worlds!"  —Xzar the Mad Wizard

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baldur%27s_Gate_series

Daily Quote 08/12/2012

"Farewell, happy fields, where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors! Hail, infernal world!"  —John Milton

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradise_Lost

Paul Ryan Selected As Romney's Running Mate After AIDS Diagnosis

I want you to ask yourself how much you knew about Paul Ryan before August 11th, 2012. Of course, everybody is now an expert since he's been selected as a VP candidate. In fact, my blog traffic has quadrupled since posting this entry, as everyone hurriedly rushed to the startling health revelation. Sure, I made it up, just like the amount of increased traffic to my site thanks to an article on him I am currently writing, but that's just my point. None of you, including Wisconsin, knew who he was, except for 40-year-old Republicans who listen to Rush Limbaugh. The same thing happens with every candidate that pops up for the race. I seriously doubt anyone ever said, "I hope Paul Ryan is chosen as Mitt's VP." The same thing went for Biden. No one knew about Obama, his record, of that he wasn't really a US citizen, let alone who he was going to choose as a running mate.

According to my research (one ABC News article) Paul Ryan is gay-friendly, acknowledging that they were born that way and it's not a choice, which I'm sure came as a relief to soul-searching homosexuals asking why they were that way. Remember the Bill Clinton footage where he stopped into McDonald's to get fries? Picture Paul Ryan stopping into Chick-fil-a with a gay secret serviceman, declaring that they will have to serve both of them, or none. The president of the company makes a statement that all Americans have a right to good service, which will probably piss off all non-Americans. See how this works?

Or maybe he was selected because his name is similar to Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin, Harrison Ford, and Ben Affleck, combined!) The jury's out.

Daily Quote 08/07/2012

"This 'telephone' has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication. The device is inherently of no value to us."  —Western Union

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_Union

Daily Quote 08/05/2012

"Let all the monsters tremble!"  —Pelafina H. Lièvre

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_leaves

Sunglasses

Sunglasses don't make you cool, except maybe one person and that was for a music video. Guess what? You're not them and it's not the 80's. Grow up and get a life. It's not the shades themselves, but the way the person acts when wearing them.

Record a friend of yours without for about fifteen minutes and then record them with. Did you notice the change? How could you not? They move from average Joe to a cross between Günther and the Terminator. Let me correct myself; Günther and the T-101 look awesome in sunglasses, each capturing one aspect of awesomeness. Günther is cool and suave; the T-101 is tough and deadly. You look like a douche trying to be all of the above. Your movements switch between a famous entertainer to looking for Sarah Connor, only it's obvious you're pretending and no one is impressed. Below are a few rules to help you improve.

Be wary of these pitfalls that are only okay in specific situations:

                On your forehead if your hands are full.

                On the tip of your nose if you're trying to see better. 

                On your collar if you're done wearing them.

                On a cord around your neck if you play baseball.

It is okay to wear sunglasses inside when:

                You just came from outside and your eyes are adjusting.

                It is exceptionally bright, like at a sporting event.             

                Your significant other beats you.

                You are hung over.

                You are blind.

It is okay to wear sunglasses at night when:

                You keep getting blinded by headlights and streetlights.

                You have a legit medical condition that requires them.

                You're going to assault your significant other.

                You are Corey Hart.

                You are blind.

Also, everyone can tell when you're staring at them with the damn things on. Not only is your head perfectly aligned with their line of sight, the darkness of the lenses lessens when light is coming from the other side. You're not slick and it's still rude. Stop it. 

The Olympics Are Stupid and So Are You: An Appeal and the Return of Willie Lomax

I can empathize with having a rough day at work (we’ve all been there,) going home and unwinding in front of the tube with a beer (there, too,) and finding nothing on (there is no God!) We flip through the channels, repeatedly, until finally deciding on something we will practically ignore. It beats suicide, except when I don’t like you. But unless you don’t have cable and are stuck with the same four channels on your black-and-white, turn-knob television, there is no excuse for watching the 2012 Summer Olympics.

Don’t be a dumbass. What Olympic sports do you actually like? You get a pass if it’s a sport you actually play, played, had friends and relatives that do, or always wanted to, but realized you sucked at it, so decided to give it up before you started. In fact, the only person I have ever known that could play every Olympic sport is none other than Willie Lomax, the humble and wise sage who hangs out at Blank’s Pharmacy in Covington, handing out words of wisdom and offering to sell watches, made from his own (discredited) gold medals, at the discounted price of $2. If only he was still eligible. If only. 

Outside of that, there’s no excuse to tune in to all the other sports you don’t like and honestly, you’re giving ratings to something that is interrupting your regularly scheduled broadcast. On a side note, domestic abuse goes up whenever the Olympics are on because people cannot tune into their favorite shows. Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if you want to keep complaining about having to watch the Olympics, stop ensuring it’s return every four years. 

Latin

Just because you know a few Latin terms doesn't mean you know Latin. Just because you know Latin doesn't make you smart. Hell, just because you're Hispanic, it doesn't make you Latino. I could do this for days.

The amount of people on the internet who use Latin terms to look intelligent far exceed the amount of people off the internet who are intelligent. Now, I won't argue that knowing Latin gives you an edge on understanding the meaning of words from another language, but so does knowing more than one language. What if I don't need to know more than one language? In my own job, I would probably be better served speaking Arabic. The majority of jobs where you live probably require you to speak the native tongue, and not some language that has been dead for over a thousand years. In the United States, most people only speak one language, despite the influx of Spanish-speaking people. They expect them to learn the language and there is nothing wrong with that. If they plan on living here, they should have to speak the native tongue (and most do, so stop crying.) Same goes for internet scholars.

The only thing protecting people who use Latin terms from getting hit in the face is the internet. If we were face to face and you started dropping Latin terms, I'd floor you. That shit's annoying enough when I don't have to listen to it. In short, stop using Latin.

Wine Racks

The only thing I hate more than wine racks are people who own wine racks. Now for once I'm not bashing rich people who own multiple houses and by default have to buy the most expensive drink they can afford to maintain their status among people who waste their money on stupid shit. Nothing like a drink I can't afford, so I can return it to the rightful owner by shitting it out an hour later in a toilet that also serves as a water fountain. I'm also not bashing the lesser people who drink wine, even though they tend to be college graduates who dress like they're from the Bahamas, and pretend to know Asian languages and culture. They wax poetic about merlots, cabernets, and other Dungeons & Dragons character classes I've never heard of, as if I care; I don't. I'm talking about those who have small wine racks, sitting on the counter, or above the fridge, or just somewhere you will see it to think they are well cultured. Well, I drink wine and have a vintage grape Mad Dog 20/20 that I regularly rotate in my cellar, but you don't see me talking about it, or displaying it. Stop this imitation of rich people, buy a bottle of cheap wine that tastes like fruit and not feet, and kill it over dinner, making sure to toss the bottle in the trash and not saving it for an art project you'll try and sell later on Etsy. You'll thank me alter.

Bacon

The only thing I hate more than everyone talking about zombies on a daily basis are the ones who act like bacon was invented in 2012. “Bacon is awesome!" No shit, dumbass, that's why we've been eating it all of our lives. I'm glad you could take five minutes away from sipping your non-dairy, organic latte to tell me everything tastes better with bacon. Where the hell you think we've been getting the lard we cook with? Not Starbucks. This "poverty" food has been a staple of southern kitchens since before there was a southern United States. Okay, that last part might not be true, but did you know bacon was creating equality before rabid, lesbian feminists marched on Washington, D.C.? Wiki tells no lies; history says it was a gender-neutral food as it pertained to preparing it. Men and women, back to the kitchen. Everyone else who recently discovered bacon and feel the need to declare it on a regular basis because you think, incorrectly, that it makes you look cool or funny, shut up and choke on an over-priced, Venezuelan, low-fat, cheese Danish.  

Mother's Day

A typical Mother's Day for me was usually going out with my dad to pick her something out, returning home with it, and then her making me something to eat before I watched Magnum P.I. and went to bed. It was nice because I only had to impress her and no one else, not even my grandmother. My dad always bought my mom something, because he did have a hand (or penis) in her being a mom, so it made sense.

But now I'm apparently supposed to thank every woman who has kids, as if they've contributed something to the world by spreading their legs. Well, thanks for increasing the amount of carbon your child will produce, speeding up global warming, thawing the dinosaurs, and making life miserable for postal carriers that now have to fear more than just rabid pit bulls. Thanks to mothers around the world, I will soon be forced to listen to a bunch of idiots who think T. Rex should have the same rights as people. Don't get me started on the idiots that say Mother's Day should be every day and see their mothers once a month.

Everyone should be thankful for their mother who brought them into this world, unless she's a worthless whore who gave them up for adoption because she couldn't afford her drug habit, and then decided to return years later in an act of selfishness to continue failing where she left off, depriving them of being adopted by Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who could have made all their dreams come true. I love my mom; I hate everyone else's.

The Famous 5 That Survive the End With Me

Some friends and I were discussing the end of the world the other night, so for fun we made our own personal lists of five people we could take with us that would help us to survive the collapse of society.

Who: Insanislupus

What: Leader

Where: Kentucky

When: January 27^th, 1978

Why: Has a list of 1001 things he hates and cannot be killed.

The first person that came to my mind was myself (and I don't count as one of the five.) I rule, cannot be killed, but can kill wild animals with my bare hands, although I usually just talk them down, make them come to their senses, and then we go out marauding unsuspecting people who go on to tell tales of how they were chased out of the wilderness by me and a sleuth of grizzlies. But now they can also include…

Who: Mehmet Oz

What: Doctor

Where: Wherever

When: 1986

Why: Has been helping people to survive for 25 years.

I know, you’ve probably got the oddest picture of the greatest internetist, followed by grizzlies, and then a happy, smiling Dr. Oz wielding a crossbow in one hand a clipboard in the other. But you would not live long enough to laugh. Dr. Oz is obviously a brilliant doctor and has been saving lives for half of his own, but what makes him perfect for my team is that he’s a big proponent of integrative medicine, that pseudo-science that all the physicians from around the world (and since pharmacology started) have been practicing unless they are corporate shills bending over for the drug industry. For kicks, we will probably make his shelter out of emeralds and line the path to it with yellow bricks, which were carved from the mountains by…

Who: Aron Ralston

What: Engineer

Where: Mountains of Utah

When: April 26, 2003

Why: Climbed a mountain after self-amputation, stopped to play a hand of poker and get a beer, before finding his rescuers who were lost.

If you don't know who he is, try cutting your own arm off and come back to me later. Yeah, that guy. Just in case, he was trapped by a boulder and had to self-amputate his arm, climb out of the crack he was in, repel one-handed down a 65' wall, and hike 8 miles back to his car in the mid-day sun. According to his Wikipedia article, he found a Dutch family along the way, so it's safe to say he marched all the way to the Netherlands before finding the rescuers that were looking for him (they were lost and he probably had trouble flagging them down with one arm). He also has a degree in mechanical engineering and speaks French. Sure, the French language will be as useless as the French military has been since World War II, but imagine all the wind, water, and solar power we will have once we let him loose. He can probably even make us a deep freeze just in time for the return of...

Who: Dew Claw the Lioness!!!!

What: Hunter/Scavenger

Where: South Africa’s Kruger National Park

When: Unsure

Why: Survived brain hemorrhage, damaged right eye, and a puncture wound under her neck into her mouth from a Hippo and walked it off.

You might not know who she is, but you might not want to. While hunting with her in-experienced pride, she had her head crushed in a hippo’s mouth, causing her brain to hemorrhage under the 2000 pounds of pressure, a tusk piercing past her jugular and through the bottom of her mouth. The other lionesses mourned her passing, but she decided, rather than dying, to walk it off and go back to hunting 2 weeks later in order to make my team. She’s made of all things women should be made of, tested and true, making feminist and PETA proud, so logically should have baby liontaurs with…

Who: Paul Templer

What: Warrior

Where: Zambezi River, Zimbabwe

When: On the Zambezi, where time stands still

Why: Survived punctured lungs, a punctured major artery, and a crushed foot after a hippo attack.

Ironically, my next person not only had his arm amputated, but did so after facing a hippo.  After serving in the British Army (I assume in an elite squad dedicated to the elimination of hippos and self-amputation,) he settled in Zimbabwe to lead rich, white people on river safaris. Templer jumped in head and shoulders first to a hippo's mouth after it knocked passengers out of his boat and tried to devour them. Born bad ass, he fought the hippo off with his bare hands, but only so he could make it back to the surface long enough to get cell phone service and finish his game of Words With Friends. The hippo would have none of that and grabbed Templer's foot, dragging him back in, but a second round of well-placed blows freed him back to the surface again. The hippo decided a third attack, a bite into his chest, followed by shaking him back and forth like he only weighed 200 pounds, would do the trick, but finally realized Templer was just luring him in and swam away. After raising the chances of escaping a hippo attack to .00001%, he patched himself up as best as someone with puncture wounds in their lungs and body can do and doggie-paddled to the local hospital, 270 miles away (where it is rumored he scoffed at what the cafeteria was serving and swam to a European hospital for something more palatable,) before admitting himself. He continues to offer tours on the same river, minus an arm, and riding the hippo he has since enslaved, waiting for the arrival of me and...

Who: Salma Hayek

What: Santánico Pandemonium

Where: The set of From Dusk Till Dawn.

When: January 19^th, 1996

Why: Who better to repopulate the world with?

Salma Hayek. I’m a humble man and must make huge sacrifices when it comes to picking who I will repopulate the world with. I decided it should be none other than this unattractive and impoverished actress, with small breasts. I’ve obviously chosen her strictly on her kind heart and personality and nothing else. She was also really hot in From Dusk Till Dawn (and Desperado and Bandidas and…) and I’m hopeful she knows how to cook, because I forgot to take that into consideration. I’m sure she does other stuff, too.

So there is team Insanislupus. Where is yours?

Honorable mentions:

Barrack Obama. The guy won the Nobel Prize for just existing. That rules.

Anne Hathaway. She is playing Catwoman and did not laugh once during the scenes where she had to listen to Christian Bale’s Batman voice.

Houston. Not sure her last name, but I read on Wikipedia that she took on “620 men without interruption.”

Forrest Gump. Not only can he run like the wind, but this Medal of Honor recipient can take a bullet in the buttocks while saving lives, and operate a boat better than George Clooney. He has been temporarily disqualified until I can confirm alleged reports that he is a fictional person.

Ryan Gosling. Baby Goose has been saving a life every week in a different city each time (although rumors suggest it might actually be Zach Shields). I imagine he could beat up more paparazzi than Matthew McConaughey, and I’m not alone in sharing the love: http://tonictherapy.blogspot.com/2012/04/to-extreme.html 

Double-Sided Magazines

 It is no big secret that I am a huge fan of a well-planned magazine. I subscribe to a few, usually by signing up under various names and never paying for them, or taking them from other establishments. You may think this is shady, but I attribute my love for magazines as the sole reason for their rise in popularity over the past several years; you wouldn’t even be able to buy them if it wasn’t for me.

 But something brought about by even the most prestigious of periodicals pisses me off. In fact, I received an issue of Rolling Stone just today that did that very thing. I looked at the cover, wondered how they delivered it without having my address on it, flipped it over to not only find the missing address label, but a parallel cover. It always makes me think I’m on LSD. Regardless, that shit pisses me off.

 But what pisses me off even more is the fact that sometimes the sides are not even. The first side, or at least the side I’m on that I will assume is the first side, because I have no way of actually knowing, will be drastically shorter than the other. It’s like dating a girl who has one double D breast and one B cup; if you all have twins they’ll be Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito. One is 20 pages, the other is 49, and you have no clue which one is going to be more entertaining, because whatever is on the cover is only there to entice you to buy the damn magazine, but obviously this magazine needed two covers to do that.

 This also gives some jackass the idea that they should put in twice as many insert cards. Instead of getting one every six pages, you get one every three. Brilliant strategy. Instead of relying on the content and word of mouth, combined with advertising, you now have twice as many inserts that will fall on the ground when I thumb through the mag. Your plan of people walking down the street and finding your subscription inserts, filling them out, and then doubling your reader base has succeeded. Take a bow, preferably on a sword.

 I’ve got nothing else. 

Mentioning the Foreign Language Title of a Work in an English Article

Look, I don't have a problem with foreign languages and think everyone should at least be able to ask directions in the native tongue of whatever foreign country they're travelling in. That being said, I'm not going to learn Russian so I can view Night Watch (2004) without sub-titles, or take archaic English lessons so I can read the Bible. I've picked up the basics of a handful because the people I associated with spoke them, or they were culturally relevant to myself. I even get that speaking Latin can be advantageous to understanding words you don't know the meaning to.

But this shit with being bombarded by German in mid-English-sentence needs to stop. I was recently doing work on chronotypes for the United States government's Department of Chronotype Affairs when I decided it would be a good idea to Wiki what a chronotype was. I stumbled upon this offensive line:

O. Öquist's 1970 thesis at the Department of Psychology, University of Göteborg, Sweden, marks the beginning of modern research into chronotypes, and is entitled Kartläggning av individuella dygnsrytmer, or "Charting Individual Circadian Rhythms."

You could simply say:

O. Öquist's 1970 thesis at the Department of Psychology, University of Göteborg, Sweden, marks the beginning of modern research into chronotypes, and is entitled Charting Individual Circadian Rhythms.

It's bad enough I have to trip over where the damn thing was written, but then busting my knees across a language I don't read and probably never will makes me want to stop reading immediately. In fact I did. You're also not a genius for pointing out the above was not in German. Get a life, virgin. The only thing more offensive than writing it out and forcing people to read it is when someone says it instead. Luckily I stopped watching Jeopardy years ago, so Alex Trebeck no longer offends my ears (and you can read about that in my other entry entitled, Mentioning the Foreign Language Title of a Work in an English Conversation, or "Indicación de la denominación lengua extranjera de una obra en una conversación de Inglés."

My readers know they can just click the translator to read my blog (unless they use Internet Explorer and must instead pay a professional one offered by Microsoft.) I would never intentionally put anything in another tongue to confuse the shit out of them or their translator. When I go to another country, I don't offend the native speakers with my poor understanding of their language. I force them to speak mine instead, because I'm American and it's just not right to make us speak theirs (especially since we took in everybody they were trying to get rid of.) They owe us this.

Apps That Are Really Just Links

Apps, also known as application software, are supposed to be designed for a specific task, and naturally are perfect for things like mobile devices, hence mobile apps, because no one wants to walk around with a desktop computer strapped to their back just to use MS calculator or MS Paint. Since everyone has scrapped their land-lines for mobile phones that also serve as mini-computers, it only makes sense that everything now has an app. Or do they?

Nothing pisses me off more than firing up an app on my Android tablet, or maybe even my Chrome browser, and then being whisked away to the “apps” website where I can use their service. I have a better idea. Why not instead of an app give me a link to your website and we can call them bookmarks? What idiot initially named those bookmarks anyway? They’re not in a book, they’re in a browser. Regardless, calling a link to your website is fraudulent. It’s the same as me selling you a copy of my latest album, and when you put it on it tells you where you can buy my latest album. Okay, so that’s worse, but this whole links pretending to be apps shit is pissing me off.

I have readers in a dozen countries and on six continents, so I think it’s time we declare war.  When you see an applink, rank them one star and leave a negative comment, preferably linking them to this post. They’re not apps, they’re bookmarks, and no one deserves credit for telling someone where they can play Angry Birds. I hate that shit.  

People Who Interrupt You While Reading

Nothing is more annoying than trying to read and having it interrupted. I believe there are several reasons people do this, so let’s briefly explore a few.

Some people see you reading and assume you are doing so because you’re alone. They would be correct. It is just me and my copy of The Catcher in the Rye and, sitting quietly amongst ourselves and waiting for the next famous person that catches our eye. They’re not the one, luckily. Others think you read out of boredom, because there is no possible way you can get enjoyment out of a lump of paper with ink on it. A typical conversation starts something like:

“What book you reading?”

“The Antarctic Cookbook.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

They wait for you to reply, but you keep reading.

“Did you catch that basketball game last night?”

You only have two options. Kill them, or kill yourself. Sure, there are others to consider, but they should understand why if they have ever read a book and will pat you on the back afterward.  Even if you do get sentenced for murder, at least you have done society a favor and will now enjoy plenty of reading time.

Then we have the ones who think you care to be on a superior intelligence level (and they obviously are, too!) If great minds think alike, and you’re one of them, you should know I want nothing more than for you to get lost. I read books because they sound interesting, not because my college professors read them. Book sobs love to interrupt you to inform you they read far superior authors than you and would never sink so low as reading a popular writer, ones that actually make money in their lifetime. They read maybe five authors and think they know everything. These people deserve to be smashed in the face with whatever antiquarian tome they are holding (Never use your own book.) I don’t really know what antiquarian means, but I assume it implies these people don’t like you putting fish in a tank and worse, members of PETA. Smash them again. 

Vevo

Who the hell invented Vevo? Ever notice how if you want to hear a song and you wind up going to Youtube to hear it (see entry on how I hate people who go to Youtube to listen to music instead of watch it), only to be tricked into clicking on a Vevo sponsored one? Yeah, everyone has. They take a five minute song and turn it into six. This is shocking, being as the Wikipedia article says Vevo was formed with "the goal being to attract more high-end advertisers." You'd think their goal would be to attract people who wanted to watch videos, until you actually listen to one.

A real time analysis of Smashing Pumpkin's Bullet with Butterfly Wings (or Despite All My Rage, or Rat in a Cage):

The page loads, complete with an ad to the top right, above the "similar" videos. Indeed, while thinking about this song, I want nothing more than to drive the all new Chevy Sonic, like all other Smashing Pumpkins fans, or people who just like this one song of theirs.

Do you:

a. Click the advertisement and see a video ad.

b. Continue watching the video, as brought to you by Vevo, proudly displayed beneath.

c. Google how to block Vevo videos from ever turning up on your Youtube searches.

I decide to stick with my original purpose and watch the video. But wait, there is another advertisement, this one placed at the beginning of the video. What do the Smashing Pumpkins have to do with 4G on my mobile phone? I'm watching this on a wired connection at a desktop. Now that I think about it, what does a washed up stage magician have to do with 4G? Probably about as much as Vevo has to do with bringing you a quality service. At least the ad is loud and clear.

The video starts and I still can’t believe Billy Corgan isn’t female, as he proclaims, “The world is a vampire.” At least that’s how I remember it. Sadly my speakers do not have a volume knob capable of bringing the video up to an audible level. After one minute of the actual video, approximately the same amount of time it took them to tell me about 4G, I decide to click off on another video that catches my eye. Sadly, it too is brought to me by, you guessed it, Vevo. But first this unrelated, thirty-second commercial that is guaranteed to piss you off. 

People Who Say Their Kids Are Their Heroes

Why?

Every time a profile asks, "Who is your hero?" someone has to say their kids. That takes about as much thought as listing Metallica as your favorite heavy metal band. Is your favorite heavy metal song One? Shut up. The problem with this answer, besides the obvious and blatant laziness in it, is that these people have obviously never read the definition of the word hero to begin with.

Hero, a noun, is defined as:

1. A person, typically a man, who is admired for courage or noble qualities. 
2. The chief male character in a book, play, or movie, who is typically identified with good qualities. 
3. Not your kids.

Did your kids do something courageous or noble when they were playing with their Lego Star Wars set? Maybe they put out a fire and saved the family from impending doom? But even if they did, does anyone actually admire them? They did it because they were scared, not noble and courageous, and that's not admirable at all. 

Stop being a coward and man up. Your kids should never be your hero, unless they fought off burglars, or battled cancer, or were born with no arms and legs and keep on trucking, or you're not a man at all.  

Dating Feminists

Colleges across the globe play home to free expression and the exchange of ideas. They are learning institutions that teach people about other religions and cultures. It is home to unity and oneness of a collection of individuals. If you believe any of that, please start reading my blog from the beginning, because you need to be re-educated. College is about pleasing your professors who already have their own opinion and believe it is the only correct one. Your individuality goes about as far as the clothes you are wearing, which usually determines which fraternity/sorority you can apply to, if any at all. Make no mistake, college students pretty much jump on whatever is popular and ride that wave until it crashes, at which point they ride the next one. Views other than their parents are very popular. You will meet several Vegetarian Democratic Buddhist in just about every class.

But there is one group you may or may not encounter: feminist. Now ladies, feminists, or whoever may be about to get offended, don’t get started, as this blog is not about you. Instead, I am declaring my hate for men who don’t want to date feminists. Feminists are every man’s dream. Don’t believe so? Think I’ve lost my mind? Nonsense. Allow me to demonstrate a few points about feminism you have obviously missed.

Women are from Mars, Men are from Venus, and Insanislupus is from Uranus, my latest, best-selling, relationship advice book (sold out in every country and Canada), outlined several positive things to engage in relationships with women over. But first, allow me to list the primary causes of relationship discord, purely from the male point of view. Keeping it short, my recent survey revealed that men hate when women: complain, control, are unhappy, won’t have sex, get emotional, gossip, don’t cook or clean. But the problem here is the outlook men are having on situations they have full control over. Let’s tackle these one by one. Below is the problem and how to deal with it.

Complaining: Pretend to listen, then apologize, emphasizing you didn’t know she felt that way. The next time you hear the words “We discussed this already” actually listen and then do whatever it was she asks you again.

Control: Start doing the opposite of what you like to do, emphasizing how you hate doing what you actually want to do. She’ll “make” you do that instead.

Unhappiness: She’s a fucking feminist; it goes with the territory, so accept that you cannot fix it.

Won’t have sex: Just go to bed. If she asks why you are acting suspiciously, tell her you’re just not in the mood to have sex with her. Put emphasis on the word her. Not only will she start having sex with you, she’ll be on top, which is less work for you. (Feminists always have sex on top or on their sides if it is with another woman, to feel less inferior/equal.)

Get emotional: Start crying, even if you have to rub onion in your eye. She’ll be shocked by your show of emotion and feel guilty, giving in to your other needs, which if you are a real man should be primarily food and sex, oh, and something shiny.

Gossip: Women constantly talk about men behind their backs. But honestly, we talk about other women behind theirs, so it should balance out. Even if she says you have a small penis and last a minute in bed, other women will still want to find out, so don’t sweat it.

Don’t cook or clean: Do it yourself. In fact, do a spotless job, declaring how you watched your mother do this all the time and it’s not fair that women should have this role assigned. See how little you will be cooking and cleaning then and how quickly it becomes “her” kitchen again.

Now many of you are thinking, don’t these rules apply to all women? The answer is yes, they do. However, feminists are not actually looking for equality; they want to be better than men (which is impossible; its basic biology.) Anything you do they will try and do way better. Are you telling me you’re not willing to put in a little work for a heavily magnified return? You’re not willing to clean the house and make dinner, and then start crying that nothing you do is good enough and how she doesn’t love you, and then go a night without sex, just once a month, so that you can have all of the positives outlined above the other 27-30 days? Exactly. Feminists like to prey on the strengths of men; therefore, it is only right to prey on their weaknesses.

This is why I hate men who won’t date feminists.

Those Extra Files in the Folder When You Pirate an Album

Its simple; I want a CD, I want it now, and luckily for me I could care less that I am stealing from some musician I would never pay money to listen to anyway. Music is like a drug, well, maybe an anti-inflammatory, one that when you want it, you want it, but you don’t really need it. Show of hands, how many people have ever purchased a CD to feel completely insulted by the lack of a good album? That one good song on the radio was the only good song, period. Remember the days where you had to purchase based on what the cover looked like? Man, that sucked.
With Napster came the greatest technology ever. Imagine the savings. You save time by not having to go to the store in rush hour traffic to buy the damn thing. You save gas, and potentially your life, because you could be in a car accident. Well, I guess something could fall on your house and kill you as you’re downloading, but that’s unlikely unless you live next to an airport or a mosque. If you’re smart and have a pair, you don’t waste your money and get ripped off by paying 99 cents a song. I don’t even want to question the logic of paying the same price for songs of varying length and varying quality, but rather I just want to know why when I download off some torrent site I always get these extra files that serve no fucking purpose that I can tell.
MSInfo files are the most annoying. I know, you’re saying they aren’t useless. Well, why when I click on it does it say “Windows is fucking stupid and should know by now to open this file in Notepad?” Why do I need all of the information about the CD that someone just stole off of Wikipedia anyway? SFV files are really pointless. Someone once explained that they are used to make sure files are not corrupted when you are compressing them. This means when you download off a torrent, unless the file is compressed it’s just debris left over by some lazy fucking up loader. What a fag. Then we have that text file that tells you where you downloaded it from, or who you downloaded it from. Look, if I don’t remember it, you’re doing something wrong and your quality probably sucks.

Bob Marley

Bob Marley had one thing going for him; he was the only reggae musician anyone knew by name (or has ever heard of aside from the Wailers, who, you guessed, played for Bob Marley.) Because of this, his face was plastered all over the place, and sometimes confused for Che Guevara, who shared a similar fortune, but was unfortunately shot to death and never got any money from his merchandise. Unlike Bob. But why is Marley so cool? Most people can only tell you the choruses from his songs. This is because they only listened to him while smoking weed with a friend who listened to Bob Marley. The friend, whose brain was about useless, only listened to Bob Marley because they could remember the choruses. It seems like a never ending cycle. It’s not. It’s really simple. It’s a sad existence when you get into music and only get famous for one song (Hip Hop). Even worse is when you get famous for a bunch of songs that all sound the same. My theory is that Marley was deaf and the Wailers were talentless hacks that worked at some Caribbean, reggae restaurant similar to Chuck E. Cheese, where they filled in playing only one song over and over whenever the robotic band malfunctioned. When they finally bought a back-up robotic band, they fired them, and as luck would have it, they worked the same corner as Bob. If you would for one minute stop trying to be cool (you weren’t and won’t be anyway,) you would actually hear the songs, which consist of the same basic melodies found in all reggae (one). Have I heard all of his songs? No, I just downloaded one and looped it for forty minutes. The effects were the same; I still hate Bob Marley.

One-Star Reviews

If you’re like me and like saving money, and have realized that you will actually save more money by switching to Progressive, then you will shop Amazon. More often than not, Amazon is amazing in their deals. It is nothing to get something half off on there. Sure, people complain, but these are the same whiny bitches who make a waitress return their drink because they didn’t ask for ice.

Even cooler is the Super Saver Shipping. Most people don’t realize that Amazon, like every other fulfillment center, has a ship schedule. Orders come in, are processed, then shipped. Guess what? Unless you over-nighted it, that 2-day mailing choice you selected and paid a shit-ton more for will ship on one of two days, along with Super Saver Shipping. Might as well not pay for shipping; trust me.

But then come the reviews and the one thing about them I hate. Why is there always some cocksucker who rates something 1 star? Even more important, why is it always over the stupidest reason?

Here are a few examples:

Taken from a book review entitled On Writing Horror:

“This book is written very poorly. Editors and Publishers expect our work to be 10 or 12 font size, and double spaced. This book, I am not being sarcastic, but I can barely read the writing!!! If you like books that are written so small you can't even see the words; but this book!!! I have 20/20 vision to by the way, and it's just pitiful. Thanks for Nothing.”

Yeah, the foremost horror authors in the world can’t put together a book on writing horror. Thanks for pointing this out, genius. Also, I was confused on if the book, by your specifications, had to be double spaced, or just the manuscript. Maybe you’re the editor and you came a little bit too late to the dance. Finally, we get to your complaint; the size of the print. Well, I own this book, and while the writing is small, if you have 20/20 vision like you claim, you should have no trouble reading it. This dick rated the product 1 star, which is like saying it has no value because he is the only person with standard eyesight that can’t read it. I saw no examples whatsoever on how it was poorly written.

Taken from a product review entitled WD External HDD:

"Do not waste your money on this product. I ordered it a month ago and it has not arrived. UPDATE: Still waiting six weeks total.”

Amazon! Quickly! Fire the customer service rep that is not doing their job by reading every single review on your entire site to ensure every single order is processed. Are you fucking kidding me? You cannot be that stupid. Well, okay, you are. I wanted a fucking product review, not a review of your customer experience in dealing with Amazon’s shipping. UPDATE: You’re still fucking retarded. Call Customer Service to be told the same.

In the future, I hope you find this blog entry helpful when writing a product review. If you have five stars to rate, well hand them out based on enjoyment of the product. Don’t take all of them away because of one minor problem or your own stupidity. Well, I guess if you’re stupid you won’t realize it.

Abercrombie & Fitch

Abercrombie & Fitch cologne has been a secret ingredient of mine (and Abraham “Fuck you, my dick is bigger” Lincoln) for years. In fact, I once modeled my manly pecs as their poster boy, until they decided a hairless, unmanly chest was more suitable. But then an atrocity happened, (one that I did not notice for over a year.) But first, a little story.

The first A & F cologne was 2 parts manliness, 1 part animal, made from the sweat of the aforementioned former president and a North American mammalian hybrid called a Bealf. This is still true today, only knocked down a notch so that people would not die upon first contact. It went on to become Fierce, and I started wearing it in 2002 when a girl I lived with loved the smell of it. The fact that it was a predominantly gay male’s cologne was wiped from the history books the first time I wore it, and today it is the Sword in the Stone of fragrances, only wieldable by the most powerful.

Then the horror happened. It was pointed out to me that the man on the bottle now came complete with plumber’s crack. Yes, topless and hairless was bad enough, but nothing could prepare me for a man’s waxed ass hanging out. Luckily, the sticker can be removed with a belt sander. But this whole ad campaign violates the 28th amendment to the U.S. Constitution which states that no one shall ever put male nudity on any male products. Lawsuit forthcoming.

Brett Michael's Lips

Taken from Wikipedia:

"April 22, 2010, Bret Michaels was again rushed to the hospital, this time with an "excruciating" headache. Doctors discovered that he had suffered a massive subarachnoid hemorrhage."

Now many of you may not know what a sub-Antarctic hemorrhoid is. Some of you may not know who Bret Michaels is. All of you know Insanislupus (I'm biblical). Well, Insanislupus + Bret Michaels = Subarachnoid Hemorrhage.

Brett Michaels is that guy who sings for that band Poison. No, you're thinking of that Alice Cooper song they put out twice. I'm talking about that glam band that everyone forgot about once the 90's hit. Yeah, that one. If you bought a metal magazine back then, hoping to see articles about bad ass musicians like Slayer, you always had to see centerfolds of this guy and his lips that look like an abomination to all of mankind, or a dressed up transsexual. They are so offensive that if you Google search Bret Michaels lips under images, half the entries are not there until you change your view to un-moderated. Fact. But why does it bother me so much I have to make a list about it?

It all started when I saw Blue Oyster Cult. I was hit by a laser, and expecting to see a huge, gnarly eyeball staring right at me, I instead saw something more horrific. No eyes at all, it was Bret Michaels lips, that stupid, gay pucker he always makes in every photo you ever see him in. Had I a gun, well, I would have shot the illusion. I was unarmed, so I just watched porn for twelve hours to get the image out of my head. It worked, for the most part, but it returned intermittently without warning throughout my life.

My first attempt to remove those lips was at the 2009 Tony Awards. I took out his non-offensive nose instead. A year later I tried again, but apparently gave him some weird sub fear of spiders. I don't know how his brain works. Please, makers of collagen, stop! If I see Mr. Pouty again, fist to the cocksucker.

UFC

I remember back in the day watching UFC 1, a video a friend of mine had acquired. In the crowd stood a massive 3,000 people (okay, that figure includes the fighters, trainers, security and everyone working the venue that night, and let us also include the people who worked the pay lots nearby.) 8 men in 4 matches, followed by the 4 winners in 2 matches, followed by the 2 winners in 1 match. No weight classes back in the day. To summarize, people lost a shitload of money betting against some short and skinny Brazilian guy dressed like the Karate Kid who kicked everyone’s ass.

Due to the fact that no one wanted to actually show up at the event and that the only money being made was selling videos, they doubled the amount of fights to make sure the total fight time was longer than it took you to take a shit after eating Goldstar Chili. Essentially, people liked the fights, but they didn’t appreciate seeing the fighters, trainers, ring girls, etc. three times as much as the fighter actually fighting. Did I forget to mention it was style versus style? Yes, you had the chance to see Taekwondo against Ninjlupu (the later of which would always win.) In the second video the same guy won.

Video 3 was somewhat controversial. The same guy who won the last two would have went on to the finals, but his team threw in the towel against his wishes. Scam. People lost a shitload of money once again because by now they were convinced that Rio De Jamacchio would win. Of course, he would go on to win the fourth, and drew on the fifth against the man who changed the UFC forever, Ken Shamrock. In case you’re curious, these two just fought each other, the actual tournament was won by Dan Severn (who lost to Rolls Royce Graycie the previous time.

But more on Ken Shamrock. To me, UFC used to be a great tournament, the ultimate fighter, which was a battle of pure skill and application. Once Shamrock showed up, it was a battle of two camps. On one side you had guys who were loud (think the film 300), had too much testosterone (think the film 300), and homosexual tendencies (again, think the film 300). On the other side you had fighters who were just trying to be tough guys, wanting to prove they were better than their opponents. Then they stick each of them in a cage and start the showers, dropping the soap on the ground. Essentially, a bunch of repressed homosexuals take all of their rage out in the octagon, and you are treated to a real manly display of… men.

But you’re probably asking, why do I hate the UFC? Well, it’s simple. I get tired of people who for whatever reason (small penis) take a few lessons in Brazilian Jiu-jitsu and all the sudden think they are a walking badass. Worse, many of these people seriously think they are competitors to actual UFC fighters, when in reality they couldn’t beat a retired, drunk and bound Tank Abbot, of they were aloud to use a hammer. They show up (single) at places wearing Tapout shirts (not laid in months), thinking they are going to score a woman because they are badass.

So now what’s your favorite sport? UFC? Good, sit yourself down next to all the other retards who have no clue UFC is not a fucking sport. UFC is a brand name for Mixed Martial Arts. Worse, it’s only been successful for the past four years. Before that, it nearly went bankrupt repeatedly and they had to practically beg fighters to fight for them. It’s not synonymous with the NFL or NBA or MLB or even fucking MLS. Well, maybe Major League Soccer; I will give them that. These are just some of the reasons I hate UFC.

Legion (2010)

Personally, I hope God does a much better job of directing the end of the world.

I won't waste time reviewing this film, but I will say that if future technology like this holds up, all of us will be able to make movies by cutting and pasting from every single horror film we have ever seen and making our own films. Exorcist III diner scene, what? Okay, a review (taken from my blog), just so none of you see it.

Tagline: A whore in the desert. Angels falling from the sky. Tyrese Gibson. It's the end of the world.

I once read this article about speed dating, where people all get together and switch seats every ten minutes with a new partner. I guess it’s kind of like an orgy for celibate people. Well, this film was speed directed. Every five or ten minutes is directed by someone else. Luckily they all consistently used ‘Camera Angles 101’ for filming.

The story is a reimagining of the last book in the bible, Revelations (Prequel, anyone?) Instead of angels coming down and making us all pay for our sins in what can be imagined as the worst possible pain and suffering, we are instead forced to pay and see the leader of God’s army rebel against him in order to save some pregnant chick whose son will somehow save humanity (obviously covered in Revelations 2: The Revenge). They also skipped all the other cool elements of the story that would have been spectacular if taken literally or metaphorically. The writing may have been done by a ten year old. I am still investigating that. But my ten-year-old nephew writes far superior films.

The cast can be divided into hopes and fears.

Hopes

Dennis Quaid

Charles S. Dutton

That kid from Sling Blade

Adrianne Palicki will get naked

Tyrese Gibson will drop out due to other commitments.

Fears

Paul Bettany

That other angel that looked like Cameron off of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

That girl on the OC

Adrianne Palicki will NOT get naked

Tyrese Gibson will NOT drop out due to other commitments.

In the end, I got a mix of both hopes and fears. Quaid and Dutton did great at playing two veterans now running a diner. The kid from Sling Blade further etched his immobile career into stone. The Angels were from ....England..... No nudity, too much Tyrese Gibson. Christopher Walken did not reprise his role as Gabriel.

I rate this film 10 stars out of 10 stars, if you add the overall rating for each director’s segment. In short, don’t even bother.