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.  

The End is Nigh

Inappropriate Remarks...in my pants, is drawing to a close.

I only received 10 entries in total from 4 people.

I'm still taking entries through tonight.  So if you're entry is in before I wake up tomorrow I'll add you to the spreadsheet and you'll be in the running for an Epic T-shirt from Cafe Press.

Winners will be announced on the 7th of December.  I'll also be putting up all the other submissions just so we can all have a good laugh.

I like to screw people...over. Yeah screw them over... (Small Packages)

I was thinking about just writing some sappy shit about how I screwed my wife over by getting her to marry me, but I decided that that would be a really lame ass use of my time and yours.  Even if it's true...

Anyway, for my dear wife's blog fest we're supposed to write about a time that we screwed someone over.  This is of course done in loving memory of those Pilgrims who first screwed over the Indians upon arrival to the New World, thus setting the standard for centuries of white oppression in this country.

Good job guys!!

Anyway back to me screwing someone...rare event that it is.  The best thing I could thing of involved me screwing up my father's plan for Christmas.  That's right, 8 year old me vs. 30 something father.  At this moment I should have known that I was smarter then he was...I guess hind sight is 20/20.

So when I was 7 years old, I met my father for the first time.  That's right folks, my father abandoned my mother and I before I was born and then he magically reappeared after 7 years.

Honestly, I don't ever remember feeling like I was lacking anything.  I had my Uncle Jimmy around most of the time and he taught me the important stuff, like how to eat my cereal with a decent slurp, how to enjoy fuzzy aliens who eat cats, and most important, NUDEY MAGS.  I'm pretty sure he still doesn't know that he taught me about those.

Back to my Douche Bag father.  So, I remember that my mom talked to him on the phone for a while and then one week he showed up and I met him and I was the best man in my own parents wedding.  Later that week, we moved to southern California.  It was a pretty whirlwind kind of week for my little 7 year old mind.

So as you might guess I was a little bit bitter and angry and jealous of this invader destroying every norm that I'd ever known.  Not to mention the fact that he was slowly but surely turning my mother against me.

So along came our first Christmas as a "family".  My father, in an attempt to bond with me (or at least I assume), let me in on the secret that was my mother's Christmas present.  It was a stereo as I remember it.

So, he takes me back into their closet and uncovers what is likely the most poorly hidden gift on the face of this planet and low and behold a couple of big boxes of low end stereo equipment.

And what do you think the first thing I did was?  You're God damn right I went and told her.  I ran down the hall screaming her name and something like "Guess what that son of a bitch dad got you for Christmas!"

And so it began...a long line of me screwing him over in one way or the other and him making my life as miserable as possible.  To this day, I count that Christmas as one of the most successful offensives I ever posed against my father douche bag sperm donor.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Bitch Be Crazy (3WW)

And we're back to Sarah Palin.  This week the crazy lady is criticizing Pennsylvania schools for putting a limit on the kind of snacks that are made available to students during holiday and birthday celebrations.  If you're interested in the article, you can check it out here.

I find this terribly interesting, because it seems so asinine.  We can't teach our kids about sex, but we can feed them right into obesity and health issues?  Honestly, speaking as a diabetic and a fatty, I'd say that obesity is a significantly larger problem, than pregnancy...at least when it comes to elementary and junior high school children.

Palin is quoted as asking "You shouldn't have been making these decisions about what you can eat at the school. Should it be the government or should it be the parents?"  Based on how the public school system works, at least in my experience, parents have very little to no knowledge of / influence on the day to day of their children's education.  Let alone their eating habits when it comes to school time.


Simply put, it is my opinion that parents are ill equipped to make the appropriate dietary decisions for their children during the day.  In other words, while the parents are away, the children will eat whatever the fuck they like.


And since children are obviously not able to make the best decisions for themselves, that leaves the schools.  


If a parent doesn't agree with how a school is being run, that parent has the option of enroll their child in another school.  I know that can cost money, but honestly what wouldn't we do to give our children the very best opportunities right?  We treasure them so dearly after all.


Anyway, Palin of course jumped to immediate action when she heard about these poor starved children and brought them all dozens of cookies.  Cause that's what we need to do right?  Undermine the tenuous  grasp on authority that our teachers fight to hold on to.  Yeah...that's how we'll empower our teachers to help us rear our children.


It seems to me as though Palin is simply waving a rude, fuck you style, gesture in the faces of a predominately Democratic state simply because they are Democratic and this serves to keep her the headlines.  


In other Palin news...if you haven't heard there's going to be an "8 week TV event" on TLC.  Should help us all get a little insight, skewed by mass media to be sure, on how the mind of Sarah Palin works and maybe (just maybe) we can figure out those awesome parenting techniques that lead to Palin becoming a Grandmother.