Monthly Archives: November 2012

Gangnam style and the unlimited wishes.

I always thought mind control was one of those things that was just a device used in books and on cheesy soap opera’s.

And then I read about Gangnam Style video on Youtube.

If I understand this horrible bullshit correctly, and I am not sure that I do, its about a song.

There is a South Korean artist Named PSY, is his shit. He is a pudgy hipster that marches to his own drum.

The phrase “Gangnam Style” is a Korean neologism that refers to a lifestyle associated with the Gangnam District of Seoul.

Oh, and by the way, its the most watched video in Youtube history.

This is where the mind control part comes in.

844+ million views in a little over 3 months.

If you understand even a little bit of how people make money off of Youtube, PSY is making a bloody fortune.

And the song sits like a child molester square in the middle of your brain.

You enjoy the little caresses of the song of a brief moment, and then you just feel stupid and dirty.

I weep for todays generation and for my own generation that has been sucked into this culture of the look or the sound bite.

Entertainment and politically speaking.

We are like little sheep, baaing and chasing back and forth, essentially doing what we are told, at war with each other because we have been told to be.

What I wouldn’t give for the chance to take a step back from it all.

That would be awesome.

Like the movie Groundhog Day.

It was a movie that a guy was forced to live the same day over and over until he lived that one day perfectly.

It would be cool to do that ourselves.

Live that one critical day over until we figure out how to do it right.

The whole country.

And then, once we have all figured it out, how to do it perfectly, we could all move forward.

That is the beauty about pipe dreams, you can swing for the unimaginable fences with abandon.

Kind of like that game you used to play as a kid.

What would you do with an unlimited amount of wishes.

When you are a kid, you want a bike, a dog, to be taller. (Get your own wishes.)

If I had those as an adult, it would be a fairly long list.

There are a lot of things I want now, the list has had decades to grow.

Some of it, I would do without thinking about a lot.

Big changes in government and economics.

There is my career in UFC and my extensive porn career to plan out.

My Noble Peace Prize will catch a lot of people off guard.

But I would be a benevolent ruler of the world.

With few rules, except for one.

This blog would be a daily requirement for all my citizens.

That scares even me.


Posted by on November 30, 2012 in Uncategorized


Stallone is a zombie holocaust.

I am not sure what studio head Sylvester Stallone is sleeping with or which one he has pictures of raping a goat, but there has to be some sort of explanation.

How does he get movies green lighted?

There is no explanation of some of the films he has made since Rocky:

  • Tango and Cash – Long considered to be a crime against humanity by some.
  • Stop or my mother will shoot – Really? Do I need to go into details here? Its almost like a trick question.
  • Lincoln Hawk – Possibly the worst, and only, film about arm wrestling in history. This movie was banned in Bali, thats how bad it is.
  • Rhinestone – Stallone sings country music. There, I said it. Deal with that audio image in your head for the rest of your life.
  • Party at Kitty and Stud’s – Stallone’s 1970 contribution to porn. It was re-released in 1976 as The Italian Stallion to cash in on his Rocky fame. Not very good, even by porn standards.


So, it begs the question, why am I watching one of his films?

Like some sort of drug addled Alzheimer’s patient, here I sit, as if I have no clue the kind of freakish misery I am about to unleash on myself.

The Expendables.

With its entire Expendable cast.

If its a B-movie action star that has made a film in the last 25 years, he is in this film.

Its almost freakish to see how badly these poor guys are aging.

Dolph Lungren is almost unrecognizable as a single brain cell character named Cutter.

Stallone, whatever he has done to himself, at the same place Lungren goes to, almost approaches acting in this one.

Mickey Roarke, looking like he does, plays some sort of wisdom spewing tattoo artist.

Jet Li, formerly one of the most badass martial artists since Bruce Lee, kind of gets his ass beat in every fight and looks a lot like a frumpy accountant.

Arnold Schwarzenegger puts in a cameo as a competing mercenery.

I am not sure who has had more plastic surgery, him or Joan Rivers, but its close.

The only person in the whole film who both no longer has a career and yet is aging well, is Eric Roberts of all people.

The plot is pretty predictable, the cliches are many and wide spread, but the shitty film acting is not bad.

All in all, not a bad action film.

I watched that film because the Expendables 2 is coming out and it looked interesting.

I needed to see how big a waste of time and money it was going to be to see it.

The answer to that is pretty big.

But I will go see it anyway.

I learned a long time ago that just because a film sucks, does not mean you should not see it.

Otherwise zombie films would not exist.

Speaking of zombie films.

Without the entire backlog of crappy, low rent, zombie films out there, you would never have gotten a green light for the series, The Walking Dead.

Now that is a good film.

And there are no crappy action stars in it.


Posted by on November 29, 2012 in Uncategorized


Why I may be a vampire.

There is a certain sick, can’t look away, thrill to ripping off a bandaid.

Its not a masochistic type of thing, but more of a “Get the hell off of ME!” type thing.

But the only problem is, if I get a cut on my leg, I am hairy enough that ripping the bandaid off becomes an unexpected waxing.

Which hurts a lot more and ends up looking like a hairy catapillar.

Thats a disturbing little mental picture, by the way.

I don’t get cut a lot, I am more of a bruise man.

Like a peach.

I am white, perhaps a shade this side of translucent.

I don’t really tan, I believe that trait has been bred out of me.

I am descended on one side from Irish coal miners, a pale people who rarely saw the sun.

So the whole tanning thing is not just difficult, but an impossibility.

Burning is so much easier for some of us.

And yet, I know a few people that freak out at the thought of a sun burn.

When I was a kid, I used to get sunburned on purpose.

Just so I could peel.

From the age of about 5 to 13 I was always just a few layers away from being just exposed muscle, bone and chubby little kid fat.

However, the skin cancer nazi’s put the fear in me over the years.

So not more going into direct sunlight if I can avoid it.

Kind of like a vampire, but by choice.

And without all the cool parts.

Saw the final chapter of the Twilight Saga.

Not bad, if you like the series.

There is a guy that reads the blog on occasion that howled like a cat in cold water when I wrote a blog post about the first Twilight movie.

Said I was writing about stuff nobody wanted to hear about.

And I fell in love with the amount of pissing and moaning that went on.

So I figured I would relive that little thrill.

This is for you, Ed.

Breaking Dawn Part 2 is actually one of the better films of the series.

Lots of hot vampires, loads of action, the bad guys are bad and the good guys good.

And Dakota Fanning is killed, horribly. (Spoiler alert!)

I was never really on Team Edward or Team Jacob.

I am not sure who came up with that concept of the teams.

And if it was a guy, I am certain he is not allowed within a 100 yards of a school.

I saw way too many grown men camping out to see the film.

Surrounded by teenage girls and giggling their creepy giggle.

So they are either into Edward, Jacob, or teenage girls.

No matter what their interest is, they are just creepy.

I mean, you expect that kind of behavior from a teenage girl.

But, in the end, the movie did what they wanted it to.

Which is make a lot of money.

And if that shocks you, what were you expecting?

If they wanted to educate you, they would make a movie about fine literature.

Instead of the next crap to be troweled up.

And they call it “50 shades of grey”

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Posted by on November 28, 2012 in Uncategorized


Black Friday brawls and vicious emails.

I need to take this blog and clear up a few loose ends that I have both felt bad about and have gotten some grief from you unforgiving shits about.

First things first.

Right at the end of the Black Friday Part 2 blog, when I was writing with a 101 degree fever, I mentioned an altercation at the cash register between a woman who had snatched an Xbox out of a little kid’s hands and the little kid’s avenging mother.

Here you go.

I had just finished watching a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving on the floor in the TV department in Best Buy and was on my way out.

The beautiful thing about not buying anything on Black Friday is that you can walk straight out.

However, the word Puta will catch your attention and kind of slow your roll, as it were.

I immediately become interesting in literally anything in the direction of the angry voice.

A short, stumpy hispanic woman has a little boy I recognize in her left hand and is stabbing a finger menacingly close to the Xbox woman’s face.

Xbox woman is kind of a Russian caucasian, average height.

I honestly hope she doesn’t think that the Hispanic woman holding her son’s hand means that she won’t take a swing at her.

It might be racist, but it is not meant to be, to say that she will totally start swinging with her kid in hand. Its a Latin woman thing.

When the fight starts, the kid will step to the side without being told.

Xbox lady is denying she took it, even going to far as to call the kid a liar.

Wrong move. La Raza is now on.

Xbox mom is now more pissed than before.

Its about to come to blows.

The absurdly weird part of it is that I am not entirely sure both women are understanding everything the other is saying.

As they get more and more into it, I am seeing more lapses into first languages.

Spanish on one side and something slavic, possibly Armenian on the other.

And then the manager ruined it.

Any other time, he stood a serious chance of having his ass kicked by two pissed off women.

In his hands, he holds another Xbox and coupons for free stuff.

Its over.

Oh, this is definitely not his first rodeo.

There is one thing that can shut down pissed off house fraus of any nationality.

A deal with free stuff.

So I left.
The second item I would like to address is the three emails I received after posting “Sick Bastard” which dealt with my thoughts on being sick.

First – I rarely drink, so while I appreciate your prayers for my continued sobriety, but I got this. I was kind of kidding about the whiskey with cold medicine.

Second – I think it a little unkind to call my blog “Medically Incorrect”. For the record, I did mention that the doctor I know would not see me. And no, I will not announce that I am only a layman without medical training.

Third – I also like Howie Mandell, but the man is a self confessed germaphobe. I will not retract that, go pound sand.


There, I feel better now.

In more ways than one.

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Posted by on November 27, 2012 in Uncategorized


Sick Bastard.

What looks like the flu, feels like the flu, does the vile things to you that the flu does, but is not the flu?

No idea.

However, I have it, whatever in the hell it is.

It has begun to clear up after only 2 days, so it can’t be the flu.

I got this from a friend who oddly enough is both a doctor, but is a worse germaphobe than Howie Mandel.

So bad that he refused to let me come over for a diagnosis.


But all the fun symptoms were present and accounted for.

Nausea, yup. Managed not to vomited but really wanted to a few times.

Fever spikes, yup. Nothing better than not moving and breaking into a cold sweat and freezing to death for hours at a time.

Sleep, yup. 10 hours of sleep a night and several naps a day and still freaking exhausted.

Being an insomniac, I noted rather ironically that I had gotten more sleep in the last 2 days than in the last 2 weeks, and I am still tired.

The shits, OH HELLS YES! I will not go into too much detail other than to say that if I ever meet the person who invented Preparation H wipes, I will kiss them on the lips, man or woman.

Its Sunday afternoon and I am feeling somewhat normal for the first time since Thanksgiving eve.

I managed to break into a sweat at the table during dinner and thought it had to be the wine.

I wish.

I had also thought I could maybe blame this on some quick food poisoning.

It would have been the perfect crime, my cousin cooked, she could take the fall.

No go, I am the only one that got sick.

So that left me with two days of both feeling like shit and trying to puzzle out if I had not wiped/washed sufficiently at some point in the last few days preceding.

Sorry, when I get sick, I like to have someone to blame other than myself.

Misery loves company.

Bullshit, misery loves to blame someone.

But enough about that.

Here are my top three cures for various things.

Cold – Mucinex D and a saline sinus flush. Given to me by my doctor. This is the only thing that works consistently. (Dr. Monkey Boy. Yes, there is a story behind that.)

Flu – Theraflu and Nyquil. Theraflu because it is hot and liquid and may actually work. Spike it with whiskey, honey and Nyquil for a toddy that will knock you out for some much needed rest. (Also, do not forget the Preparation H wipes. Don’t ask, just thank me.)

Insomnia – Begin writing a blog. This doesn’t help you sleep, but you at least feel like you aren’t wasting your time.

What it all boils down to is that being sick sucks, in a big way.

But, sometimes, you can’t avoid it.

So don’t BS yourself and deny you are sick, get the proper meds and hunker down for the fight.

And be sure to blame someone.

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Posted by on November 26, 2012 in Uncategorized


Black Friday – Part 2

There is a feeling akin to watching a Youtube video of a street fight when you are in Best Buy on Black Friday and you see a grown woman rip the last remaining Xbox out of the hands of a child and run off.

I was on the other side of the cell phones when it happened, so there wasn’t even the opportunity to do anything about it.

I usually never get involved, but when children are involved, all bets are off.

The kid looked like he was crying, and walked off.

Ah, consumerism at its finest.

I managed to sneak in after the morning craziness had worn off, but make no mistake, it is an incredibly busy day.

I am to late to get in on any Door busters.

However, a lot of those will be sold on Ebay pre-Xmas.

I know this because I bought a netbook a few years ago.

$300 Netbook, bought for $150 at Best Buy and  sold on Ebay for $200.

Everybody wins.

I am now in the tv department, sitting on the floor.

42 televisions are all streaming A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.


I am done shopping.

It doesn’t take long before I am joined by about 10 guys and an equal number of kids.

We are all on the floor.

The wives, no doubt, are elsewhere, taking Xboxes from young kids, that sort of thing.

There is something about this film, about Charlie Brown.

It sparks memories of laying in the living room room floor in your jammies, hair still damp from your bath.

Good times.

Turns out there was only about 10 minutes left in the show.

I find myself heading to the front door when there is a commotion at the registers.

Xbox kid’s mother has confronted the Xbox snatching lady.

It is now on like Donkey Kong.



Posted by on November 23, 2012 in Uncategorized


Black Friday – Part one

Sick on a holiday? Really?

Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor.

The first of the holidays are upon us like a plague of boils.

I would almost say biblical, but there is nothing in the good book that says anything about Kmart or door busters.

I mention Kmart because they opened at 6am today.

On Thanksgiving.

It might not even qualify as a holiday anymore.

But, before I start beating the drum for holidays, God and country, lets examine exactly what they are doing.

Kmart, a store that I, at least, try to avoid on regular days, much less today.

If memory serves, its like a smaller Walmart, which opens tonight.

And, back when I was married, the missus and I used to get our bulk paper products.

Toilet paper.

Other than that, I have no idea what they sell.

Other paper goods, perhaps?

There has been a raging debate on social media like Facebook and Twitter as to whether people should boycott the stores that are opening early.

I still can’t figure out why.

I mean, they have the right to protest whatever their silly asses want to.

This is still America, at least for now.

But, to me, this is kind of the consumer equivalent of stomping your little feet and taking your ball and going home.

I am going to venture out into the trenches on Black Friday, and I am not expecting it to be fun.

The second part of this story will be posted at noon PST, after I have had a chance to do some serious field research.


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Posted by on November 23, 2012 in Uncategorized


Be thankful, or else!

Thanksgiving is a day to be thankful for life, family, and the bounties of the harvest.

At least it should be.

And then there is what happens to my holidays.

But, before we begin to start discussing the current holiday, lets talk about Thanksgivings past.

Like the rattling chains of Jacob Marley, the past haunts me at times. (No, I am not explaining)

And some of them are more than haunt worthy.

But where to start?

In general, the thing that stands out the most is sitting at the kids table rocked, well, when I was a kid.

And then you got old enough to realize that the kid’s table sucked, badly.

But you were stuck there.

Waiting for someone to die.

Its was always a kind of damaging situation.

Like a holiday themed “Hunger Games”.

And one of the sickest things were the conversations that went on with the other family members that are close to you in age, and stuck at the kids table with you.

You begin to identify who has to die for you all to make the move.

Who dies first? Uncle so and so. With him gone, his wife may start spending the holidays with her family.

If Aunt whatshername passes, God forbid, but her boyfriend won’t come next year. Besides, I can ask mom to not invite him.

Etcetera, etcetera.

The talk gets pretty ugly.

But one of the oldest nasty memories of Thanksgiving is one of just a freaky uncomfortable to be there type of feeling.

Football is on, that one is a gimme.

In the one corner, looking confused and wearing a general aura of menace, is a mentally retarded cousin.

He is also a pedophile, by the way.

I have no idea the threats or evil things that went on to get him an invite, his mother was a vile harridan, so there he sat.

And the second he got up to use the bathroom, everyone in the room flinched and all the mothers began to do headcounts.

I had no idea at the time what kind of danger I was in, I was 5 at the time. However, I had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, so in retrospect, I had a HUGE target painted on my butt.

Sitting opposite the mentally challenged menace, was another cousin that, looking back,

what having a bad case of the DDT’s.

The wine began flowing early that day, so just a little shy of late afternoon dinner, was when the first shouting match began in the kitchen.

They never last long, but the funny part is, its an argument in which everyone erupts and screeches for a second and a half, then everyone quiets down.

Good times, good times.

Now that I have had a chance to look back, I realize that the Thanksgivings of today are complete pussies in comparison.

This will be a piece of cake.

Several pieces of cake. And turkey.

Lots of turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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Posted by on November 22, 2012 in Uncategorized


Learn how to drive, people!

You don’t mind if I road rage for a minute, do you?


People are assholes.

I know how ironic that statement is, given that I freely admit to being an asshole on an almost daily basis.

But, today is a red letter day for every dip ship that cannot figure out how to drive.

It starts almost subtly.

The street I live on is a narrow one that allows parking on both sides.

The middle of the street is just barely wide enough to allow two cars to pass each other, but only if the drivers know how big their cars are and know how to drive.

So, logic dictates that, if you drive a Chevy Suburban, arguably the largest SUV on the road, you would put in the time to figure out how to drive it, get comfortable with the width…etc.

Not this lady.

I saw her coming from way up the block.

When an SUV creeps along at well under the speed limit, you tend to notice it.

I figure out ahead of time, that if she is that uncomfortable with driving that big beast with the width of the road with just her on it, there is no way in hell she is going to be able to handle her end of a low speed pass on this street.

So I pull over. I am about one foot from the curb, sticking out probably less than a foot into the street.


What follows is a five minute ordeal of her creeping forward, inch by inch, lurching to a stop every inch and a half, before she finally manages to creep her massive fucking car far enough past me, that I can escape.

I made it to the end of the block and she was only a few more cars down.

Good god!

And it only got worse from there.

I got cut off, almost side-swiped, just missed being backed into at a train crossing, had 2 cars come over into my lane (No blinker ASSHOLE!), and one old lady flipped me off because I couldn’t back up when I was stopped and then she rolled up to the driveway to get out.

Sorry Granny, you’ll have to wait your wrinkled, rude turn.

And it didn’t stop there.

I had someone roll thru the crosswalk 2 feet from my unprotected pedestrian ass when I had the green, a garbage truck cut the corner too close and I had to hop back.

I made it to work alive and for that, I am truly amazed and unbelievable grateful.

So, despite life/karma/whatever’s best attempts, I did not end up dead on the pavement.

I am amazed I am still willing to drive/walk in this rotten town anymore.

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Posted by on November 21, 2012 in Uncategorized


And it isn’t even Hump Day.

Does it make you feel dirty if a dog latches onto your leg and humps away?

What about a guy in a bar?

My parents have a new dog.

He is a little fuzzy dog who ended up there to keep from ending up at the pound.

The previous owners have new landlords who are anti pet.

So they had to get rid of the dog.

His name is Rocky, and he has his balls.

Why are you mentioning this, you might ask?

Because Rocky likes to hump anything that moves.

It has been a long time since I have had a dog that was not snipped.

And the snipping removes this type of behavior from the table.

So they have scheduled him for snipping next week.

At the same time I am thankful that when I had myself snipped, it did not remove my desire to hump every woman I know.

Back to Rocky.

He is a shih tzu, a breed that I know nothing about.

But he seems like a cool little guy, so they are going to keep him.

But now the humping thing is stuck in my head, but not in the sick way you might think.

Because it occurred to me that Rocky is like the rest of the guys, and by guys I mean human guys.

It might not be as obvious as grabbing a random woman’s leg, but it is very similar.

Let call it the Mental Proximity Hump. (MPH)

It goes a little something like this.

A guy gets within 10 feet of either a familiar or unfamiliar female and finds something attractive about her.

Look, smell, build, smile, eyes, laugh, voice…etc.

It can be just about anything, despite what some guys might claim about being picky, thats pretty much horse shit.

And then watch the guy slide into the MPH mode and start trying to work it.

There is a reason why that old metaphor of men being dogs has kind of stuck to guys as a gender for hundreds of years.

Mainly because its true.

Think I’m just talking bullshit?

Go into any bar on any given night, any bar that has more than 10 people in it and at least something close to an equal number of men and women.

And if you cannot identify at least half the men in the room engaging in some MPH behavior let me know because it would be a first.

And for those women who say, indignantly, “Not my guy”.

Please, let not add ignorant and naive to your resume, shall we?

Its not really our fault, much as women want it to be.

It has a lot to do with instinct and the survival of the species.

Its not nearly as noble as I am making it sound.

Its just that I get a little defensive.

You see, I am one of those dogs.

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Posted by on November 20, 2012 in Uncategorized