After swearing he wasn’t going to make any more movies with them, Kevin Smith is making a sequel to “Clerks”. Yes, the concept has me somewhat geeked, but I’m a tad skeptical. I honestly don’t want to start screaming “Cash cow!”, but you have to admit, after the lukewarm (at best) reception of “Jersey Girl”, it does seem like Smith is moving back to familiar territory a bit too quickly. But Dante and Randall seem to be on board with the idea, and I’m sure Jason Mewes has nothing better to do, so I guess we’ll see. Snootchie Bootchies!
You know those weeks? The ones where you have so much crap to do at work already, then all hell breaks loose and you have to put all that aside to go deal with the yet more immediate crisis, all the while trying to explain to people why you’re not dealing with their individual crisises (crises?) instead? Well, I’m pretty sure I had one of those weeks. I say pretty sure because I don’t really recall all of it, it’s mostly a blur of phonecalls and driving. And it would be one thing if these were personal issues, but no, this was all work related. I finally got to sit back down at my desk today for the first time in nearly a week, and I haven’t the slightest idea what I was working on when all this nonsense began a week ago. I’m shocked I somehow found the time to put in an update Thursday, but it was important enough to make time for.
At any rate, the crisis has been averted, and I get to (hopefully) resume my regular schedule today, whatever THAT was. Does anyone have any idea what I was working on?
You have no idea what kind of utter dread this fills me with. Not that she’s leaving, but that the strange, tiny creature I held in my arms at the tender age of 13 has not only figured out how to walk and communicate with the rest of the world, but she’s made me age 17 years in the space of what seems like a week. I would start complaining about how growing old sucks, but I feel my sciatica acting up again, and I think I’d rather just have a nice rest now, thank you.
I wish her well in her adventures, and know she’ll be back one day, Starbucks in one hand, Communist Party card in the other, weeping at how GWB is destroying the known universe by merely existing.
Funniest movie since South Park. NPH is my new hero. Prick.
I could rattle off quotes all day, but why bother? If you haven’t seen it yet, go now, while you still can, or suffer the knowledge that you, in fact, suck. Seeing as I managed to see it with both Jefe AND the Brat, and not realize it until after the movie was over, only somehow makes it more specialer. Or something.
In an unusual twist on reality today, Teh 1!!1 actually realized I had overslept, and woke me up before I was terribly late to work. This is unusual only in that the entire concept of her awakening before me has no precident - most mornings, it takes a combination of cold water, shouts in the ears, and jabs to the babymaker in order to get her to crawl out of bed. My head is foggy, and I have this unnatural desire to find a comfortable spot amongst the pallets in the back and get another 13-14 hours in. But seeing as how I can’t do that while trying to do two jobs at once today, I shall suffer alone, but rejoyce in the knowledge that I made you read this post, so you may commisserate with me.
At any rate, for those of you who missed it, here’s the big secret Teh 1!!1 was alluding to: we have a roof. This actually did for me what I hoped it would, which is not make me feel like I was making a 30 year purchase on a rather small, strangely walled basketball court. There’s months to go still, but now it feels real, where it hadn’t felt that way to me before then. I’ve never been good with abstract concepts, and I guess buying what was more or less a vacant lot with some construction materials on it didn’t quite make the impact it should have. Maybe I needed more caffeine then as well.
As Tommy has mentioned, it hasn’t even been a week yet, and already fingers are being pointed as to who’s fault Hurricane Charley is.
No, really. Then again, with a pricetag at 11 billion and climbing, I guess someone really should take the fall for this.
Aside from a serious potential as Michael Moore’s next documentary topic (What is the Bush family’s secret connection to Mother Nature?), some blame the media, and a few apparentlywant to blame the National Hurricane Center.
Well, in a shocking display of candor, the National Hurricane Center says surprise! Meteorology is, at best, an inexact science - and because of that, warnings had been issued up and down the west coast of Florida, including the Ft. Myers/Punta Gorda area. Which means those residents who feel the state was caught by surprise were more interested in the forecast than the warnings they were given. I don’t recall seeing anything said from any information source that guaranteed you would be fine unless you lived in the Tampa Bay area, or anywhere along the original projected track.
Then again, most of these are “Letters to the Editor” - usually, these are inane ramblings from people who have more time than sense, tossing their random idiotic thoughts out there where people will, hope against hope, read them and agree with them - because deep down, we all want to be loved and respected for being pompus, self-righteous losers.
I wouldn’t know anything about that, natch - I’m a blogger, and everyone knows what I say is not only true, it’s perfect in every way. Or not. But at least I’m not blaming people for the results of nature’s wrath.
But since we, as a society, seem to need a target upon which to finger as the source of our miseries, both individual and collective, I’ve come up with something to help those of you who haven’t quite settled on your target for your wrath - I call it…the Blaminator! Please, utilize the following simple form, which allows you to both settle and reinforce your fears, phobias, and desires.
Make your choices, Blaminate, then repeat the resulting mantra to yourself, until the desired effect (reassurance, paranoia, or insanity) takes place.
I laughed until I cried. And that’s at the eight bucks I wasted on it.
I knew AVP was bad the moment our heroine gave the List Of Things Not To Do, knowing full well that these rules would be broken within five minutes. Not even the precious Geek Factor could save this movie. Marvel at the aliens that go from facehugger egg to full grown alien in twenty minutes! Giggle mercilessly as every B sci-fi horror movie clichè is dug up and beaten mercilessly into your skull! Weep incessantly at the knowledge that you’ve just given 8 bucks for a movie that deserves P2P more than any other this summer!
Good news first: Teh 1!!1 and I are safe - we decided to head out to MCG’s house to hopefully avoid Hurricane Charley, but just after we arrived we learned that ‘ol Chuck bent like Beckham, and visited the state early. As I type this, there are trailer parks being renovated left and right as it moves through some of our state’s more rural counties, on a path that seems to lead them toward the greater Orlando area. Perhaps he just wants to ride the Hulk. Whatever the reason, unless he takes a left turn again, we should be mostly in the clear, with the exception of some storm bands that will shoot off during the evening. To the locals who drop by the page, I hope all is, and continues to be well.
Hot on the heels of my in-depth reporting into the brutal murders in Deltona, I present a gripping link to a website one can easily get lost in. An offshoot of McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern, McSweeney’s has basically resurrected the style and snarkiness of Suck, only without all that unnecessary commentary or ertzats diatribe it was famous for, leaving only the palpalabe remains of something truly, uniquely funny. To get your feet wet, a few suggestions from their rather sizeable menu:
And that’s just a sample. You can spend days there, spelunking their short stories, their endless lists, letters, advice colums, and more, and more, and more…I feel myself growing more and more unemployed by the minute the longer I spend there.
They’re already calling it The X-Box Murders. Four men - well, one man with a violent criminal history and three teenagers - brutally killed six people with aluminum baseball bats. All because the man thought these people, who’s home he had been squatting in until he was discovered, had stolen his X-Box.
The only thing more tragic than this act was that, had authorities done their job, it would have never happened in the first place. It seems that Troy Victorino, the “mastermind” (if one could call him that) of this horror, had been arrested for assault the previous weekend. Considering that Victorino was currently on probation for a previous violent crime, you’d think that his parole officer would have him picked up immediately and have him thrown back in the slam. But no - not only did that not happen, but the parole officer then met with Victorino between the time of his arrest and the murders, and, knowing full well of said probation violation, allowed him to leave on his own. An arrest warrant was finally issued by the probation officer - hours after the murders had occurred.
This disgusts me beyond all reason. Who the hell doesn’t want to get repeat violent criminals off the street? Especially one with a history like Victorino’s? What kind of lazy asshat can do this and sleep at night? Granted, I’m not a probation officer. I hear the stories about how they’re underpaid and overworked. I know they feel stretched thin. But the signs were blatantly obvious, and no one who had the power to do anything about it did.
Luckily, we won’t have to worry about a few of these losers anymore - the Florida Department of Corrections has already terminated the jobs of Victorino’s parole officer and three of his supervisors, for job conduct so negligent even the government can’t ignore it. But when people getting fired for being losers are the only good results to come from an incident like this…