Girlie Night (3WW)

If you've read my blog before you're likely aware that I love the Alamo Drafthouse.  A great movie theater, they frequently play old school classis (this month its The Gremlins) while still keeping up with new movies and hosting late night viewings of those highly anticipated films, that we've all been waiting for all these years...Tron...

Last night was no different.

The Wife and I went to a screening of Love Actually.  Basically an utter sappy ass movie about several couples and how they fall in love, continue to love, or suffer in exquisite anguish due to unrequited love.  Did you guys like those big word?

All in all I have to say I actually really like this movie.  It's really funny where it should be and heart warming and not super heavy with the general sense of hopelessness you get while watching a romantic movie.

That's right I said hopelessness.

To me, it seems that most romantic movies are fairly unrealistic when it comes to how people get together/stay together.  I know, I know...it's a fucking movie, but it still seems silly.

So back the important bit...the Wife.  She loves this movie.  I mean she fucking loves it.  We watch it every Christmas (the movie is set around Christmas time) and usually when she's sick or just feeling down in general.  Now in my infinite wisdom (yes infinite dear...) I decided I'd buy some tickets early as the Drafthouse does tend to sell out for events such as this.

Again...last night was no different.

My plan was...get the tickets early (check), run late leaving the house (double check), eat dinner making us even later (triple check), arrive about 30 minutes early to find the movie sold out only to SAVE THE DAY and say "Good thing I got them last week!" followed by sex for the Monk.

Well almost everything went as expected...maybe not as planned, but certainly as expected.

As a consequence of leaving the house early the Wife got nervous about the show selling out and so she made the logical jump of insisting that we go buy our tickets before we ate dinner.  Damn it Wife.  Damn it all.  In the end she was so insistent and I couldn't come up with a decent enough excuse (I'm a terrible liar) to not go along with her plan, that I came clean and gave over the voucher for our pre-purchased tickets.

I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to save the day, but all's well that ends well I suppose.

In other news we've been dabbling in weight loss for the last few weeks.  If you'd like to check out our lean mean not so supportive crew head over to Blogging Blobs and be prepared for some mud slinging...or even poop, but that's only a sometimes thing.

Mr. Sprinkles (3WW)

As we're beginning to swing into the holiday spirit around our house, we've slowly but surely been putting up decorations and buying some new outdoor lights.  We're getting new outdoor lights because my dear retarded dog Einstein ate the last set we had outside.

That's right folks...the son of a bitch (literally in this case) ate the damn lights.

Bastard...(again, likely the case)

Anyway, the Wife (I've given up on the Translator thing...several readers have deemed her Wife instead) put up some new decorations outside, while I was reveling in the glory that is the new World of Warcraft expansion.  So around nightfall as a dutiful husband I was required to go see and applaud her effort.

While we were outside one of our neighbor's cats came up for a visit.  Though we've lived in this house for almost a year now this is the first time any of the neighborhood cats have come up to say Hai.

Let me tell you, I'm generally a dog person, but this is one cute mother fucking cat.  I mean he's got some series skills.  I reached down a little to pat him on the head a little (I love all animals after all...except hamsters, fuck hamsters) and he jumped up a little and petted his head against my hand.

Instantly I felt sorry for the little guy, like he doesn't get any loving at home, so he trolls the streets looking for a friendly pet.

So the petting continued as we were trying to make some plans for other outside decorations for the year.  I thought the little guy needed a name so I deemed him Mr. Sprinkles.

Now, I'm not one to judge...ok ok, that's bullshit.  Judging is what I do...

Anyway, I really don't love the idea of someone leaving their pet outside all the time.  Especially a cat who is totally capable of jumping the fence and escaping.  It seems pretty cruel to me, but than again any pet I've ever had has been like a member of the family.  Even the rodenty ones.

Back to the Wife...by this time she's practically rocking like she's autistic of some shit and chanting to herself that "We can't feed Mr. Sprinkles."  The crafty little sucker even tried to come in the house with us when we went in.

That would have been the mistake of the day for Mr. Sprinkles.  Would have made one entertaining ass children's books though.  Something like Mr. Sprinkles Meets the Playful Retard Dogs that Don't Understand the Concept of Weight Ratios.  Yeah I think that sounds about right.

They'd have crushed him within 20 minutes.  All from innocent playing mind you.  Einstein would be either trying to mount him/her (it just dawned on me that I didn't look and Mr. Sprinkles could just as easily be Ms.) or he'd be trying to find the squeaker inside.  Franklin would likely thing he/she was a rope toy and try and break his/her neck.  All in good fun mind you.  Isn't that what your dog does?

So I hope you find safety Mr/Ms. Sprinkles.  You're a cute little son of a bitch, I don't think you'll have too many issues.

And the Winner Is...

I'm not really sure how this happened, but Frito won with his entry of "Where the Wild Thing Are...in my pants". Totally hilarious and inappropriate.  I'll have that shirt up in the Cafe Press store along with several other entries that were very close.

Here's the full list of entries in the order that they were ranked:

1. Where the wild things are, in my pants
2. Where Men Find GLORY....In My Pants 
3. Raging Inferno ....In My Pants
4. An Inconvenient Truth ... in My Pants
5. Take Off Your Pants and Jacket..... In My Pants
6. Anxeity Phobias and Panic ... in My Pants
7. Rumpelstiltskin .....In My Pants.
8. My Father's Hands ... in My Pants
9. It, in my pants
10. The art of Unit Testing, in my pants

Sorry Ckrets...close, but no cigar.  

I'll let you guys tell me if we want to have a similar type of competition next year.  Thanks to those few that participated, I really appreciate the support.

Maybe next time I'll get off my fat ass and do some advertising.

And I'm Back... (3WW)

So I haven't been posting very much lately and I'm sad to say it's got a lot less to do with my travels for the holidays and a whole lot to do with a distinct lack of motivation I've had the last couple weeks.  I've even missed Three Word Wednesday, which I really love to do every week.

Thanks again Thom.

So lets have a revival...

Since I've been gone the big things that have been happening so far as I can tell are that:

A.  Sarah Palin is on TV at least once a week in a non-news format.

B. We now have a choice of radiation poisoning or sexual assault when we go to the airport.

I don't know about you guys, but this looks like one shady motherfucker.

C.  North Korea fires on South Korea over a border dispute.

So let's start with my favorite Alaskan...other then Balto of course (can't believe you guys had to click that link).  Unfortunately I haven't had the opportunity to watch any of Mrs. Palin's reality show, but suffice it to say I'd rather not have my possible presidential candidates whoring themselves and their children out on reality television.  I mean is the women looking for a career in the White House or a career on the TV in my house?  

I'm not going to spend anymore time on Palin this week.  We've got more important things to talk about.

How about the TSA?  Which violation of privacy would you like to endure to get on an airplane?  I do understand that likely hood of getting radiation poisoning from these scanners is pretty much slim and none, with the extremely limited exposure that the average American has to the scans.  

However, based on the fact that there are some sicko's out there whacking it while looking at pictures of my junk, I'd really prefer it if they could prove that these scans are being deleted once they're examined for the purpose that they're taken.

I'm also going to take issue with the type of searches that people are going through when they opt out of the scanner.  Do we really need to feel up every Grandma and pregnant woman in that way?  Wouldn't a simple wand style medal detector be sufficient?  Maybe not, but these searches certainly seem to criminalize everyday citizens for the actions of the few.  I suppose in the grand scheme of things that's how stupid ass rules get made...thanks to stupid ass people.

Well while the TSA certainly won't cause the demise of society as we know it, Kim Jong-il might.  This crazy motherfucker is trying to start a war.

If you didn't know, North Korea (lead by Kim Jong-il) launched missiles into South Korea last week in a border dispute.  Honestly I'm not sure what the hell that means exactly, but apparently a couple miles of trackless jungle is worth the lives of innocent people...or at least it is for this crazy bastard.

I know it probably wouldn't do anything but make him into a martyr, but I really wish someone would assassinate this guy or something.  I swear I'd give a cookie for the effort.

Similarities are a little frightening here no?

Anyway, Happy Hump Day all.