Days Of Guns N Roses

Axl Rose should be dead.

I don’t say that with any kind of animosity towards the man.  He’s never done anything to me worse than manufacturing the mediocre Use Your Illusion I and Use Your Illusion II and serving them to be “as is” instead of trimming the fat off of both albums and making one great album.  And he’s threatened us with Chinese Democracy, their new album which has been in the works for the past fourteen years.  My good friend Tony has been looking forward to this album for months, an album I realize has been in the works since he was fourteen.  And just when you give up hope, in an age of new Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Die Hard movies, “It’s Christmas time… it’s the time for miracles.”

And then in one of the many cigarette break conversations that happen several times a day at work, my boss Larry said (as he often does) with bizarre wisdom, “Axl Rose should be dead.”

He clarified.  They were a band on the top of their game for over a decade.  Possibly the last great rock band before the brief Seattle grunge takeover, the Pop Band Machine flux of Britney Spears and NSnyc and the reigning Hiphopcracy.  He isn’t talking about the bands created in the seventies like Van Halen and Kiss (both of which are on life support… I think my mom turned down the lead signer gig on Van Halen).  He’s talking rock bands created in an era when pretty boys like Warrant and Poison (who literally wore mascara) are what passed for rock bands.

And like all good rock stars be they Jim Morrison, Lynyrd Skynyrd and John Lennon, Axl Rose should have died.  To paraphrase Quentin Tarantino’s Clarence (Christian Slater in True Romance), “Live fast, die hard and leave a good looking corpse.”  Killed by an obsessed fan who gave him a fatal dose of cocaine before he self-affixated himself on a crashing plane.  And who the hell is Axl to argue with destiny.

Nothing builds a legacy faster than death.  Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Buddy Holly and Nirvana all had (weirdly enough) three albums released before their demises and all of them make more money as legacies than they ever would have had they stayed alive.  There is a certain ridiculousness to just how beautiful Marilyn Monroe was and that stays with her because, unlike Elizabeth Taylor and Shirley MacLaine, I haven’t had to watch them get old.  I once showed a picture or Marlon Brando to Kelly, a woman I worked with.  This wasn’t Apocalypse Now Brando where he looked like shaved walrus wiping the sweat from his brow.  This was Guys And Dolls Brando.  Streetcar Named Desire Brando where he paced back and forth like some kind of caged animal they taught how to act.  Kelly just about fell out of her chair followed by the inevitable, “What the hell happened to him?”

There is reason you can always find James Dean posters and not Paul Newman or Robert Redford.  It’s because James Dean had the decency to do two great films (I can live without Giant) and die.  In a Porsche crash, no less.  Nobody knows how Jane Russell died but we sure as hell know Jayne Mansfield went out.  Veronica Lake’s Peek-A-Boo hairstyle was so popular during the forties employers restricted it in the factories because women were losing their peripheral vision and losing digits in machinery.  She died of complications of alcoholism after she went from sexpot to hotel bartender.  God bless Quentin Tarantino (and Jackie Brown) because if I found Pam Grier died as the cashier at a Dollar General I would be very upset.

I’ve seen Axl recently.  Old and a little bloated.  Wearing cornrows which for white people should have started and stopped with Bo Derek.  Part of me looks at him like that guy you haven’t seen since high school and you find out he’s still working at the movie theatre banging girls that were too young for him then.  He has piece of shit car and three roommates.  You finish the conversation politely and telling him, “See you later,” knowing you won’t and reaffirming who you are.

I saw Chinese Democracy in Best Buy Sunday while I was holding a Martin Scorsese DVD box set and mulled over buying it.  Maybe it would have taken me back to high school and the early nineties.  Or maybe, like so many other revivals it would have been a poor impression of what I remember and left me disappointed.  Or maybe, like the new Knight Rider, it would have been exactly what it was then and left disappointed in myself for liking it the first time.

I didn’t buy it.  I just walked away and I’ll let Tony tell me how it is.

Tween Of The Damned

I haven’t seen Twilight.  You know, that movie all the girls (and a few disturbing women) are screaming about.  Not that I won’t.  There are James Bond films to see this holiday season that will always take priority to girly vampire movies.

So from my understanding of what this thing is about, there is some angsty high school girl (aren’t they all) and she meets hottie boy teen vampire (not to be confused to the less romantic but probably much funnier Teen Wolf).  Then bad boy vampires show up and they fly and fight.  I assume this all takes place somewhere in the northwest United States since they are wearing hoodies, I see trees and everything in tinted blue.  And from the interviews I have glanced portions of, boy vampire hunk ‘o dreamy lovin’ is like a hundred years old.

Okay, I’m with you.  Got it.  Now here’s my deal:

Why the hell is he in high school?

Seriously, he looks like a grown man.  It isn’t like he’s Claudia from Interview With The Vampire and forever trapped in the body of a ten year old girl.  My nephew is eleven and if he were a hundred year old vampire walking around in the body of an eleven year old people would constantly be giving him shit.

Why aren’t you in school?  Where are your parents?  I don’t think you should be drinking that.

And this all ends with my vampire nephew Alex ripping someone’s throat out and eating them because adults don’t know when to shut the hell up and mind their own business.  Hell, even that crazy vampire boy in Near Dark found vampire bikers to hang out with so he wouldn’t have to go to school.  But those are kids.  This is almost a grown ass man.

Which brings me to my next amazingly large leap in logic.  High school kids are annoying.  Super annoying.

I can’t even watch TV shows like Gossip Girl and 90210 (either version) and those kids have adult writers writing their nonsense babble and are much better looking than real high school kids.  Is there anything more annoying than high school girls in love (and the flip side of that is is there anything more sad than high school boys in love)?  I was at my old job at the bank fixing PCs a few years ago and there were two tellers in their late teens and after ten minutes of listening to them talk about each others friends and then getting married to the boyfriends they’ve had for six months and having babies “so their babies could be friends” I was completely ready to push the alarm, point my finger threateningly from inside my jacket pocket so the Police would arrive and promptly shoot me.

If John Hughes has taught us anything it’s that high school is a massive pain in the ass.  Seriously, has anyone ever made a positive movie about high school?

And the first person that emails me with High School Musical is lucky plane tickets are so damn expensive otherwise I would fly to where you are and punch you in your useless wordhole.  Those are musicals and I am talking about serious things here like vampires.  Don’t even waste my time.

Who wants to deal with the worries of a high school girl, her stupid gossipy friends who think you’re weird and she can do better (and they will try and hook her up with other guys because they don’t like you… trust me on this one) and parents.  Who wants to call a girl and have to deal with her parents?  I was once twenty-two dating an eighteen year old who lived at home and if she wasn’t super cute I would have pulled the plug on that because her mom was full-tilt crazy.  I’ll be damned if I am going to deal with that when I’m a hundred.  I’ll probably just get a fake ID and pick up girls in bars, clubs and Craigslist like a normal dude.

Someone told me maybe high school girls are easier to pick up.  Agreed.  We all knew that guy who worked at the theatre dating girls six years younger than he was because he had his own place and they were impressed because he’d spin the tires on his ‘92 Caprice Classic.  The douche I knew who used to do that (along with bouncing the rear end of my ‘87 Dodge Aries until it was diagonally parked and I couldn’t back out) became this guy.  But you know what, normal girls aren’t hard to pick up when you’re 6′2″, lean and British.

In fact, I’d think any of those factors on their own (none of which I possess, mind you) would make picking up girls fairly easy but combined pretty much qualifies you for Weapon of Ass Destruction status.  Brooding is just unnecessarily stacking the deck in your favor.

And here’s another thing: Can you imagine getting it on with a girl who’s seventeen meanwhile you’ve probably been with, I don’t know, hundreds of women?  I am no expert and picking up the ladies.  Seriously, my best line is, “I’m not Fred Flintstone but I’ll make your Bedrock.”  Laugh all you want but humor goes a long way… humor and a little bit of pity that I am not above.  I would think sex itself would get pretty boring after the first century, the last thing I want to do is break in a newbie.

Now that I think about it, after a century, what isn’t boring?  Television?  Movies?  Music?  Theatre?  Losing your loved ones?  I can completely see me spending twenty or thirty years being the guy I am now and then deciding, “This sucks.  I think I am just going to start killing people to watch them die.”  I’m immortal so life probably just got a whole lot cheaper.  I’m already damned so it isn’t like I’m worried God is gonna smite me.  I’m an undead vampire who can’t keep a day job so I’m probably always working nights, he’s already done his worse.  Somehow soulless, Godless, minion of the damned doesn’t seem a place I’m not willing to go.

High school, however…

Christmas Shopping For Dummies

I am an expert at post-Thanksgiving Day shopping.  I plan my shopping day like Rommel in the European Theatre.  I seldom leave the house before 6:00a and I am done well before 10:00a.  This is how I do it.

1. Doorbusters.  These are the items they sell at crackhead prices.  People spend Thanksgiving Day sleeping on cold concrete to get a 60″ LCD television for $700.  Most of the really high end bargains are very limited.  Maybe ten or fifteen to a store.  Places like Best Buy open at 6:00a but the line starts forming well before midnight.  Honestly, if you aren’t one of the first hundred people in line, don’t waste your time.  If it is that important to you, bring some snacks and something to keep warm.  Generally the way it works (or at least does when I worked at Best Buy) is at 5:00a or so employees will start at the front of the line and ask what you’re there for.  You say $50 digital camera and they’ll give you a flyer for that item.   The flyer guarantees you that item for a fixed time (maybe until 11:00a or noon, ask to be sure).  If you want, go home and get some sleep but just make sure you come back in time to claim your prize.  If you don’t come back by the allotted time, they’ll sell it to someone else.  Personally, if I stood in line that long, I would just get it then and know I had it.
2. Know what’s on sale.  I registered on www.blackfriday.info and I get weekly emails of leaked deals.  The sales used to be a closely guarded secret.  Not so much anymore.  Visit the websites of the stores you frequent Tuesday or Wednesday, they’ll often have their ads up then.  If you don’t get the newspaper delivered, don’t expect to find one after 8:00a Thursday morning.  They’ll be gone.  You can print items from the website.  Circle the stuff you want so you know what you’re looking for.  If you have a flyer, take only the pages with stuff you want.  If you don’t need a dishwasher, throw those pages out, they’re dead weight you’ll be flipping through in a pinch trying to remember which if Kyan or Keron was the Bratz doll you were supposed to get.
3. Only buy what’s on sale.  Black Friday is no picnic.  Don’t waste your time trying to complete your Christmas list.  If it isn’t on sale, ignore it.  Come back next Wednesday and get it then.  You’ll spend money on an iPod and then see something on sale and question whether you should get it since you already spent the money on an iPod.  Always buy the sale item and if you change your mind that leads us to…
4. It’s better to have it and not want it then want it and not have it.  This is no time for wavy decision making.  Snap judgements have to be made now.  If you see something for a great price, buy it.  If you don’t know if lil Alex has Gears Of War 2, don’t bother calling his parents and asking, just buy it.  You can literally decide against it and ten minutes later they could all be gone.  I find things like $10 DVD box sets and I just throw them into the cart and when I get home, I decide who they’d make good gifts for.  I keep a few as “backup gifts” and whatever I don’t want I return and get my money back.
5. Some things don’t go on sale.  Things like iPods, Playstation 3, Xbox 360 or Disney movies always sell.  If you see a deal here it’s going to be because they bundled several items together and deal is taken from the accessories, not the main item.  Don’t expect to see $400 Playstation 3 for $250 but do expect to see them given away with an LCD television.  The markup was always on the TV, not the game system.
6. Do your homework.  Know what you’re looking for.  Most of the employees are holiday help.  Don’t ask them what the 3:2 pulldown is or what’s the resolution on a Blu-Ray player.  Three weeks ago that guy was working at Orange Julius in the mall.  This goes double if you’re in a Walmart or Target where the employees couldn’t find their own ass with an electric ass-finding machine.  Get the ads early and go online and do your research and your comparison shopping then.  Your only interaction the retail monkeys should be pointing and saying, “I want that one.”
7. Have a teammate.  Split the list in two and split up.  Even better, when one of you gets done, head for the registers even if you have nothing.  This way your partner can find you and give you the stuff and not have to wait in line.  When I shop waiting in line to check out takes three times longer than the shopping does.
8. Don’t expect things to be where they normally are.  The electronic stores will have a pallets of stuff in the centers of the aisles.  Walmart will have movies in a stack in Produce.  It’s a madhouse.  Go to where you think the item may be and if it isn’t there, ask the first employee you see and if they don’t know, which they may not, ask the next one.
9. Cell phones are useless.  Don’t try and call anyone for advice or clarification of an item.  Don’t try and call your teammate on the other side of the store.  There are often so many people in the store you won’t be able to hear on your phone, anyway.  Text message and if possible, hold your phone so you can feel it vibrate because you won’t hear it ring.
10. Leave all unnecessary items at home.  Bring your flyers, your cell phone and your money cards.  Everything else, leave in the car or at home.  It will slow you down.  Trust me.
11. Don’t wait for the good parking spot.  Just pick one.  There will be so many people coming and going there are bound to be better spots that’ll piss you off as you walk in from the back forty.  You’ll wait forever just getting through the parking lot aisles so you’re better off just picking one.  And while I am here, when you get in your car to leave make like a seventeen year-old boy at prom and pull the fuck out.  Don’t check your cell phone for messages or balance your checkbook.  Make sure your packages are inside, your seatbelt is on, and pull out.  Sitting there sorting your receipts and check marking your list at 6:00a while people who haven’t had coffee or sleep are waiting for that spot is how people get shot.
12. Read the fine print.  Is there a rebate?  Are there “per customer” limits.  Don’t be surprised when you get there and the Bluetooth headset you thought was $14.99 is really $49.99 before two mail-in rebates.  Best Buy almost never does rebates anymore so whatever is marked is what you’re paying.  Staples does online rebates which are very quick and I highly recommend.
13. Know your accessories.  If you’re buying certain items they are going to do the suggestive sell and recommend other items.  Know what they’re talking about and it’ll save them the time of explaining it to you which they will because accessories is where they make their money.  If your neighbors cousin knows a little about home theatre or computers and will give you some free advice, take it.  So when when they ask do you need a backup battery or a flash drive, you’ll know the answer.  In Home Theatre equipment, they will always try and sell you expensive cables so know whether you’re going to need an HDMI or component cable.  Again, if it’s on sale it better to have it and not want it and make those decisions later.  A personal note: There is are two Big Lots in my town.  They sell all kinds of cables.  I bought an RCA HDMI cable for my tv for $14.99… it was $70 at Best Buy.  USB cable is $4.99 and it’s $29.99 at Best Buy.  Also visit www.monoprice.com.
14. Leave your kids at home.  With your mom.  Hire a babysitter.  Few things piss me off more than a packed store at 7:00a and someone toting a six-month old.  Child Services should just drive through the parking lot and if they see anyone with a kid under ten in a 40 degree line at 3:00a they should just be arrested and sent to the pokey.
15. If you need a computer or television, now is the time.  There are a few times of year stuff really goes on sale.  For televisions and home theatre equipment it’s Christmas, Father’s Day and January (the Super Bowl).  For computers it’s Christmas and Back To School.
16. Have your money ready.  Have your check cards and credit cards.  If fact, have backup money.  I pay everything on my check card but sometimes banks have issues.  I alos carry my American Express and Citibank card just in case one of them gives me crap I whip them out to the cashier and play, “Pick a card, any card.”  NEVER pay cash because they don’t track cash at the register.  If you pay with a card and lose the receipt, they can look it up.  You pay with cash and you’re screwed.  People who whip out a check and present their two forms of ID and make the other ninety-seven of us wait for a manager approval should be beaten within an inch of their lives.  Complete asses, I tell you.  They only thing worse than these idiots are the jackasses who have no credit and decide the time to apply for a Best Buy card is at 6:30a after they’ve spent four hours in a line only to get rejected because their longest employment was the job they had pushing in carts at the Walmart for eight months which doesn’t look good with their four priors, three illegitimate kids and two years of spotty child support payments… and this guy thinks he needs a Playstation 3 so he can watch Fast And Furious Tokyo Drift in high-def.

Happy hunting.

Ridiculous BIG

I was watching the news and heard the term “Big Oil” and was kinda puzzled.  I’ve heard it before so it wasn’t something that makes my brain freeze as if someone had said Skittle Kitten Pajamas or some other words that had no business together.  I’d heard of Big Tobacco, Big Government and Big Insurance Companies.  I have even heard Big Food referring to the McWhatABackyardBurgerKing stuffed into the back of the Texaco around the corner from my house.  But Big Oil?

Of course, if you’re me, the next question is, “is there a Little Oil?”

Is there some guy with an oil derrick in his backyard in suburbia with a four story derrick violating the Earth all day and night.  I know people that can’t park work trucks in their driveway.  What homeowner association would allow that?  Maybe he has a derrick off the coast of Texas.  He probably built it himself out of stuff he bought from Lowe’s and had a buddy with a fishing boat take it out and build it.  He and a few of his buddies operate it like those manly dudes on Black Gold or Axe Men or whatever blue collar job TLC has made into a series this month.

Explore the frozen sewers of Chicago with the men and women of Shitkickers.  Tuesdays nights on History Channel after Famous Nazi Recipes.

It’s really silly the more I think about it and purposely designed to make me think of other evil corporations.  I think all politicians should be forbidden to use the term “Big” as a prefix for any product while still endorsing the Free Market System.  The Free Market System is what leads to Big Tobacco and Big Oil.  I am sure there is Small Tobacco.  Some guy with a few acres, grows his own crop and sells it in local stores.  More power to that guy.

I have also been told I am addicted to oil.  Really?  I drive to work.  To the store (usually on the way home not because I don’t want to waste gas but because once my pants come off, which is pretty immediate, I’m in for the night… unannounced drop-inners be damned).  To some recreational places.  I don’t go muddin’ or have more gauges in my car than a 747 so I can street race faux-hawked dudes in 1988 Nissan Sentras at stop lights (and by the way, those guys are douches).  I don’t, I don’t know, drive around in circles for twenty four hours straight for entertainment.

I may be addicted to movies, my Xbox, my Tivo and my cell phone but oil is more like toilets.  It’s a necessity I take no particular pleasure in.  Can’t really curb my usage.

While I am complaining about useless syntax, there should be a moratorium on using the suffix “Gate” to identify a scandal.  Watergate is actually a hotel.  There was no need for Zippergate, Troopergate, Irangate, Contragate or the other ridiculous names that have been assigned to these “scandals.”  Just call them what they are:

Politicians doing dumb shit.

Bottom Of The Top

Natalie had one of her extracurricular activities last Friday.  Something to do with Feminist Fridays or something.  I never really know, not that I wasn’t told, just that I wasn’t paying attention.  Outside of her day job, I really couldn’t tell you what Natalie does in these groups she’s involved with.  I picture them in a makeshift bunker somewhere below the streets of Gainesville where you have a secret knock to gain admittance and first-timers are brought blindfolded.

And everyone wears berets.  I asked her once, for assurance, if she would ever participate in a violent overthrow of the government.

After a very long pause she said, “… no,” and then quickly broke eye-contact.

This event also included the birthday of Natalie’s good friend, Stephanie, who was turning thirty-one.  Natalie asked me if I’d like to come and named all of her friends that I like who would be there (and the ones I don’t like… you know who you are*).  I agreed.  I try to go to these things when I am invited.  It’s food and I like food.  I often feel I have little to contribute to the conversation but i don’t want to be the jerk boyfriend who never leaves the house.  I used to go to a Tuesday Trivia Night at Kazbors and one of the girl’s always came alone because her boyfriend was home playing World Of Warcraft.  He did this every evening for four to six hours.  He didn’t keep that girlfriend for long.  I don’t want to be that guy.

The plan was to meet for dinner at The Top.  This was decided by Stephanie, from what I have been told, under duress.

I hate The Top.  It’s just not my kind of place.  Lots of young kids work there who make me feel old sporting their sleeve tattoos and enough hoop earrings to easily be mistaken for a spiral notebook.

Look at me.  I have a spike in my lip and and enough eyeliner to be mistaken for a racoon… would you like some curly cheese fries?

None of the furniture matches (the same for another Gainesville favorite, Satchel’s) which is fine for eclectic design but plays havoc with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  Instead of what should be a Hostess Podium is a glass showcase full of kitsch late seventies and early eighties shit like Viewmasters and Six Million Dollar Man action figures.  All this yard sale stuff has price tags so I guess it’s for sale.

It makes me feel like someone opened a restaurant in their garage after a yard sale that didn’t work out.

There is no employee uniform so unless they’re holding a notepad I never know who works there.  I can name you all twenty-two James Bond movies and can’t remember my waitress five minutes after she walks away if she isn’t in a uniform.  Oh, and for some reason all the young men in Gainesville seem to feel the need to grow these amazingly unruly beards.  Not the kind of beard that says, “That guy must be an authority on something because clearly he looks like he’s writing a thesis paper,” but instead, “That guy must live in a shack in the woods where he’s clearly he’s writing his manifesto to the government.”

They take no reservations so if you have a large party (ours was nine) then good luck with that.  Oh yeah, and they won’t split a check.  Everything goes on one tab if you decide to use plastic.  Natalie and I always forget this and had to walk a block to the bank and withdraw fifty bucks.  I knew a guy who was a complete tool to his wife throughout my youth.  Eventually, after decades, she told him she wanted a divorce.  It later came out he’d been miserable for years but never left her because he didn’t want to be the dick that left his wife and their three kids.  His solution was to make her life miserable so she’d leave him and he wasn’t the bad guy.

I feel The Top doesn’t really want to be a restaurant so they just try and piss me off enough so that I’ll never come back and they can say they gave it the old college try.

And they don’t have enough pagers so when they run out they take your cell number down and call you.  This crap never happens at Chili’s.

So we stood outside on the sidewalk for an hour starving like hostages.  Our crowd kept getting bigger and when our table was eventually called we’d gone from nine to nineteen.  Suddenly we start discussing how we’re going to break our group up into smaller groups so we can get seating which defeats the entire point of being here together anyway.  I kept my mouth shut and was quiet when Natalie asked me if I planned on ordering food.

JIM: I’ve been standing here for an hour.  I’m ordering food.

NATALIE: We can go somewhere else.

JIM: We’re already here.

NATALIE: If you order food it’s going to take them another hour to get it to you.

JIM: If my ass hits that chair I am ordering food.

And Natalie pulled the plug.  She gave Stephanie a hug and we wished her well but told her we had to go.  We still had an hour drive home to Ocala.  Natalie offered some drive-thru and I wasn’t interested in eating in a dark car on the way home.  I would tough it out until we got home and I did.

Some people don’t like chain restaurants but I do.  I like predictability in real life (not however, in movies).  I like going into any Perkins in America and knowing what’s going to show up on my plate.   Knowing that the Long John Silver’s in Seattle is probably exactly like the Long John Silver’s I had that night on Silver Springs Boulevard in Ocala where I am pretty sure they’ll deep fry your cole slaw if you asked them nicely.

* I am kidding.  I like all of Natalie’s friends except that one who’s name I can never remember.

Irate Of The Caribbean

Natalie and I were making our monthly trip to that monument of capitalism, Sam’s Club.  There are only two of us and we seldom eat a gallon of olives in a month.  Somewhere along the trip Natalie mentions she wants a copy of Pirates Of The Caribbean.

I am no Pirates fan.  It’s a very clever, inventive and well-done one hundred minute movie someone left inside a two hundred and twenty minute running time.  I am a staunch believer that few movies need to go over two hours, even fewer over two hours and twenty minutes and never should a zombie pirate movie based on a theme park ride never be longer than JFK, Schindler’s List or Malcolm X.  My friend Jessica nodded off at a drive-in watching Pirates during a fight sequence and woke up thinking she’d only nodded off for five minutes.  In truth, she’d been asleep for an hour but couldn’t tell since all the action sequences look the same (pirates fighting zombie pirates in the dark).

My other favorite story like that is from my friends Jon & Amy who watched Memento complaining about the non-chronological editing only to find it was their DVD player skipping and showing the same chapter over and over.  They watched the same scene four times before they figured that out.

So we get to the register and start unloading our groceries.  I know Sam’s Club doesn’t bag groceries but would it kill them to put three feet of surface to the back of those registers?  It’s like the dude scans your stuff and if you’re not Johnny-On-The-Spot, he’s putting your two liter of pickle relish on the concrete floor.  It’s bad enough they don’t supply bags but the boxes they do supply are all display boxes with huge holes in the side.  Why even put those out there to tease people with?  It also puzzles me why everywhere on Earth everybody has eco-friendly bags to buy for ninety-nine cents except the place that doesn’t supply bags of any kind.

So all the groceries go on the belt and the girl is scanning them, picks up our DVD and the register beeps.  Already having seen my Sam’s Club ID, she looks at Natalie and asks for her ID.

NATALIE: What for?

CASHIER: For this movie.

NATALIE: I don’t have my ID.

Often when Natalie and I leave the house there is a “key check” where she verifies who’s driving, who needs to be carrying keys and this is where she announces she has no keys, no money, no check cards and sometimes no cell phone.

DUMB CASHIER: Well I can’t sell you this movie without an ID.

JIM: I’m here.  Just sell the movie to me.

STUPID CASHIER: I can’t with her here unless I know she’s over eighteen.

NATALIE (Irate): I’m twenty seven.

JIM (To NATALIE): HA HA.  You have a law degree and can sue people but you can’t buy a movie at Sam’s Club.

NATALIE (To JIM): Shut up.  (To MORON CASHIER) I have a bottle of wine in there, too.  Are you not going to sell me that?

IDIOT CASHIER: No.

JIM: Wait a minute.

I flip the movie over and point out the rating.

JIM: This is a PG13 movie.  It’s Parental Guidance.  You don’t even need to be thirteen to see it in a theatre.

THICKHEADED CASHIER: The register says you have to be eighteen.

JIM: Okay, but you see that rating?

BRAINDEAD CASHIER: Yes.

JIM: And you see these words on the front that say Walt Disney Pictures Presents?

LOBOTOMIZED CASHIER: Yes.  But the register says you have to be eighteen.

Frustrated, I am amazed at the lack of common-sense and judgement.  The inability to make an executive decision and realize anything with the words “Walt Disney Presents” on it is probably a little different than had we tossed a copy of Reamgirls with Beyonce Holes in front of her.  That maybe she might need a manager to override it and just admit the stupid machine is wrong.  Is this where we are in our technology?  That we rely on machines to make our judgement calls for us? When SkyNet takes over this chick will be the first one to bow to her cyborg overlords.

Natalie realizes her backup driver license is in one of the ten pockets in her shorts.  She shows the woman who obviously doesn’t understand the only thing worse than irritating a black female is irritating a black female lawyer and the only thing worse than that is standing between a irritated black female lawyer and her getting her Depp on.

So we got the movie and I went home and placed it on the corner of the wall where I keep Natalie’s movies (because I have worked very hard on my movie collection and shouldn’t have explain why there is a copy of Clueless between my copy of A Clockwork Orange and Conan The Barbarian).

Something similar happened to me at a theatre when I went to see 28 Weeks Later and the usher needed proof that I was eighteen.

I’m thirty-five.  I was eighteen before you were born.

Maybe we just look young.  Maybe it’s just zombie movies.

Technorati Tags: Movies,Sam’s Club,ID

Welcome Home, John McCain

It took exactly seven days.

Politics does crazy things to people and there is always a point after an election, when I watch a candidate who’s essentially in a two year job interview, revert back to themselves.  Bob Dole did it in 1996.  Loosened up.  Did a Pepsi commercial with Hallie Eisenberg (yes, I know the name of the Pepsi girl) and a few slightly disturbing Viagra spots.  Al Gore did it in 2000.  He grew a beard, did some episodes of Futurama, lost the stiffness and was warm and friendly and not the VPGoreBot2000 I watched in debates.

And in 2004… well, John Kerry is John Kerry.

In 2008, it took John McCain exactly seven days for him to show up on The Tonight Show and be warm and friendly.  Self-effacing without being self-deprecating.  Funny without embarrassing himself.  That Take-No-Prisoners Cranky Old Man yelling at kids for loud music and frisbees in his yard was gone.  The Old rational John McCain was back.

I have voted in five elections.  I don’t regret any of my decisions.  Twice for Clinton and anyone who wants to remark how horrible the Clinton years were, I’ll remind you those “Tax And Spend Liberals” paid off the national debt, left a three trillion dollar surplus and I don’t once recall seeing homemade mannequins of Bill set on fire in other countries.  I didn’t vote for George Bush either term and when my kids learn about 9/11 twenty years from now and ask me about George Bush I can tell them, “I didn’t vote for him.”  I can’t blame George Bush for causing the country’s ills but I can blame his Clark Griswold methods in dealing with them.

Someone pointed out where we’d be had John McCain won in 2000.  For a moment my brain just stopped.  I had never considered the idea.  It was one of those things that seemed so obvious.  People have asked me what I think would have happened after 9/11 had Gore been elected.  The idea being that Democrats aren’t known to pull the trigger so fast and somehow Al Gore would have the power to avoid a war.  It wouldn’t have mattered.  We were going to war.  I don’t think Iraq would have happened and I think the efforts would have been much more focused.  The idea that losing against an enemy you can’t find wouldn’t have been foreign, something the Bush Administration and John McCain refuse to believe is possible.  Sometimes Americans lose.  Judging by the amount of Civil War bumper stickers I see daily, we refuse to admit it, but sometimes we lose.  But would we have been better off had McCain won in 2000?  I think so.

Every now and again the real John McCain would peek out.  A woman who’s done her own research and can’t trust Arabs and the old McCain surfaces and tells her he’s a decent Christian patriot and gets booed by his own crowd for his trouble.  You can’t say that while your VP pick is telling people he pals around with terrorists (and even more importantly, if that were true and a threat, the better question is why did you and ninety-nine other Senators let him sit in the Senate and make decisions for the country)?  You can’t say “Change Is Coming” and you’re a Maverick (copyright 1982, John McCain Enterprises) when someone has you on a clip saying you voted with George Bush 90% of the time.  You can’t say “the fundamentals of our economy are strong,” and two hours later claim they are weak and stop your campaign to fix it.  You’re not Warren Buffet and quite frankly I could probably throw a rock on Wall Street and hit anybody that knows more about finances than McCain and 90% of the people in the Senate.  Being a millionaire doesn’t make you a financial genius the same way being a prisoner of war will make you an American hero (deservedly so) but doesn’t make you George Patton.

George Carlin has said on politics, Americans don’t hate liars, we expect politicians to lie.  We hate hypocrites. 

I, like many others, said had McCain ran against Gore in 2000 I would have had some decisions to make.  It’s been said many times during this election that this isn’t the John McCain of 2000 and 2004 but I am glad to have him back now.  Politics does crazy things to people.

I picture Joe Lieberman smashing a giant alien pod with a shovel and out back in a shed the real John McCain awakens… and somewhere Sarah Palin points and screeches.

Technorati Tags: McCain,Politics

The White Devil’s Candy

I was enjoying a Fun Size pack of Peanut M&Ms, my personal favorite.  I don’t trust people who don’t like Peanut M&Ms the same way I don’t trust people who don’t like cheese on their hamburgers.  Seriously, why would you not want cheese?  Lactose intolerant… man up.  Everybody knows 95% of all food taste better with cheese or chocolate (the notable exception being Chinese foods).  I think Peanut Butter M&Ms are a joke.  I remember when they first came out and they acted like they invented candy miscegenation with packaging blaring NEW PEANUT BUTTER M&Ms!  And I thought, “Like Reese’s Pieces… twenty years ago.”

I also think Almond M&Ms are arrogant, fancy and elitist.

And while I am here: Why is everything that comes in small sizes immediately “Fun Sized?”  With the exception of Lil’ Kim, when did tiny determine their fun ratio?  We’re Americans.  We like things big and garish.  I saw a woman with one of those letter decal signs on her truck that said CALL CAROLYN BURNHAM, THE HIGHEST REAL ESTATE SELLER IN OCALA in giant in-your-face letters obstructing all the windows.  The fact she was driving an orange Humvee just made the whole thing all the more obscene.  I think Fun Sizes should be huge.  Things that are small should be called Snack Size.  Beer and liquor should be sold in both Fun and Snack Sizes.

So eating this bag of M&Ms I am looking at the corporate mascots on the small yellow bag.

Yeah, I scanned it.

Now here is what puzzles me (besides the fact that marketing firms create mascots with personalities and want me to eat them… I’m looking at you, McDonald nuggets) is they have Caucasian arms and legs.  The typical Mickey Mouse white shoes and gloves (never mind they have no pants or sleeves and are wearing gloves) but their arms and legs are exposed and Caucasian.  Logic dictates they should either a) be the color of the candy shell or b) be brown for the chocolate inside.  You could make the argument that the ’skin’ color is the same as the peanut inside but that would only apply to Yellow, Red is just chocolate.

These are obviously the sweet, sweet candies of the white man.  Next week I’ll discuss the implied threat of “dangerous” black olives being kept in metal cans while green olives enjoy pretty glass jars.

Technorati Tags: Candy,Advertising,Racism

Weird Stuff I Saw: Election Edition

I know Arizona is where Floridian seniors go to die so crime is probably not an issue but do they have the lamest ballot security in history or what?  That’s a Walmart tub with a ziptie on it!  Really?  Talk about ballot tampering.  Anybody could buy another box just like it from Wally World (Big Lots if they were cheap revolutionaries) and swap the boxes with forged ballots… Danny Ocean style.  Or on the way to the Supervisor of Elections Office clip the ties, dump out half of them and then reseal the box with another red ziptie that they bought for $1.98 and still have forty nine to spare.

And why is there a red box and a blue box?  Is there a significance to that because if there is does John know he’s sticking his ballot in the Democrat box?  There is a Bill Clinton joke there but I let the easy ones go.

And since I will probably never have to say this again, Cindy McCain eerily reminds me of the White Witch of Narnia with her yellow eyes that can see how you’ll die.  If she gives you an apple, for God’s sake don’t eat it!  I heard if you exhale and she inhales at the same time she’ll absorb your soul.

What the hell is Sarah Palin wearing here?  Remember that Seinfeld episode where Elain Benis wore a Cubs hat in the Yankee skybox?  Well here you go.  I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and thought maybe those were caribou or horses because you know, she’s Country First and all.  After staring at the neck I am pretty sure those are donkeys.

Either she’s oblivious and she’ll wear anything red. white and blue they hand her or she was purposely trying to sabotage McCain… Mel Brooks Producers-style.  I am going to assume that she’s in a room with another thousand Republicans and one of them would pull her aside and tell her, “Hey Sarah, let me tell you about the elephant not in the room.”

Apparently, Neiman Marcus is selling the same shit I can buy at the flea market next to Confederate belt buckles and Harley Davidson leather cigarette pouches.

Okay.  Even I know this is wrong.  What the hell?  I don’t know what disturbs me more: that someone would stoop so low to make something like this or the image of my junk in George W Bush’s gaping maw.

Now if this were Monica Lewinsky it would have been the wittiest toilet joke ever.

Speaking of poor taste.  Yeah, yeah, I get it.  Socialist handouts are like welfare, blah blah blah.  I’m actually fine with the food stamp bit and the donkey body which adds to the double entendre that he’s an ass (which is very witty) but the Kool-Aid, watermelon, chicken and ribs?

This was mailed out to members of the Chaffee Community of Republican Women and I am pretty sure they didn’t think they had any black members.  They had two.  I am sure the key word is ‘had.’  If you can’t say something nice about someone, at least make sure they’re not in the room.

Remember when Ann Curry said 75% of people didn’t view race as a factor in this election…

…meet the other 25%.

Okay.  This jackass named his baby after the Republican candidates.  Now you have to question the wisdom of doing that before an election.  That could seriously backfire.

Have you met my daughter Dukakis Bentsen Gonzalez?

No, this guy isn’t a jackass because of what he named his daughter… he’s a jackass because he did it after his wife already rejected it and while she was passed out after delivering his baby.  He claims it was his way of supporting the candidates and “getting the word out there.”  I guess he couldn’t just write McCain/Palin ‘08 in soap on his car like a normal person.  The good news is his wife can probably go to the courthouse and change the baby’s name and file for her divorce all at the same time.

I once heard of a guy who two months after his wife had their baby bought her a treadmill.  Never mind that she never once commented she was unhappy about her weight and that he was pushing three bills.

Natalie and I veto preemptive baby names all the time.  Last weekend she was upstairs and I asked if I could name a son Brando and she quick invoked her veto privileges.  The same power she exercised on Lucas Harrison Ford and Kool Moe Dee Ford (okay, the latter of the two I should have seen coming).  Natalie tried to float Barack by me Wednesday morning and I promptly shut her down.  I’ll wait until the first term is up.  I don’t want to saddle my kid with the 2012 equivalent of William Harrison.

There was a black family that gave birth to a son on Election Day and named him Samuel Barack Obama Whatever which is cool.  It’s cool because they’re black people and he’s the first black President.  Also because he actually won and more importantly the wife consented.  Notice, they left the Hussein out because maybe someday they’ll want their kid to run for President.

America… You’re Welcome.

I have had two people congratulate me this morning.  I congratulated them back.  Whether you agree with what happened last night or not, my accomplishments are your accomplishments.  My failures are your failures.  We the people.