tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91494277846727596302024-03-13T21:04:24.542-06:00Go Forth, My Son, and RockThe Cosmonauts Guide to the Halls of ValhallaJohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-11642634888736060682010-04-19T02:16:00.008-06:002010-04-19T02:37:52.615-06:00When A Man Is A Woman<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQuv6bRbBq-M4V5lHFo1-U-pPQ2CucMrCUKQ9AP1WGNcpUOTMn8Q3DqN_9lbD-QjVDiWwk8c4wllPqJVxM35D0BNnf4c-fa1qIvfEJp6NkpCzUH134nrU7pqfYeQ0uaQF9-CfD61SRb-O/s1600/yao_ming_giving_birth_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQuv6bRbBq-M4V5lHFo1-U-pPQ2CucMrCUKQ9AP1WGNcpUOTMn8Q3DqN_9lbD-QjVDiWwk8c4wllPqJVxM35D0BNnf4c-fa1qIvfEJp6NkpCzUH134nrU7pqfYeQ0uaQF9-CfD61SRb-O/s320/yao_ming_giving_birth_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461759726104570754" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">So I was thinking, casually of course, what would the experience of giving birth be like for a man? What would be going through his mind? What would his soul be experiencing? What exactly would happen to him?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">As I thought about this, I figured that the only way to articulate my thoughts would be to do it in screenplay form. Thus, without further ado, I present to you: </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><b><i>BIRTH BY MAN</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><b><i>a film by Jonathan Martin</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">A man is rushed on a medical cart, doctors surrounding him. There is panic as the man SCREAMS in agony. This man is TED. Ted is a 30 something male, just like you. He's sweating, and he's heaving. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">A NURSE approaches the head DOCTOR. Both are panicked, sweating, and have the shit confused out of them. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Get this man into the ER, and stat! I think he's about to give birth?!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">What the shit are you talking about, man? I'm just an intern. I wasn't taught how to cope with this shit, man. I've still got two years left, and right now, I'm thinking about getting the fu---</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Calm yourself, Davis! I need you. We've got a skeleton crew tonight, and I'm not going to let this man die!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">With that, TED begins to scream.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">What's happening to me? This hurts! It hurts like a son of a bitch!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">We think you might be pregnant.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Tell me something I don't know, you FUCK!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I think he's going into shock.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I'm going to bury my knuckle into your vagina!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I think his water broke.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">The nurse and the doctor both look down, and see nothing but a sticky wetness all over. The nurse keels over and pukes into a waste basket as they haul Ted into the ER/Delivery room.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I think I'm going to die, man. I'm going to die, man!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Suck it up, you pussy!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">The doctor and the nurse work frantically on the man. They've splayed his legs out, and Ted starts to moan and mumble incoherently. The Doctor puts on his mask as the nurse stands by his side, gloved up and ready to roll.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I swear on my mother's grave, I will never sleep with a waitress again.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">All right, let's see what we have here--- What the shit?!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">What is it?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I don't believe it... It can't be. He's... He's giving birth through his rectum!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">No! NOOOO!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Do you want me to hold him down or something?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I don't know.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I've got a gun. Let me kill him. Put him out of his misery. He doesn't deserve this kind of pain, man.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Do it! Kill me! Please!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Damnit, boy. I won't have this man's blood on my hands!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Too late!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">The Doctor looks down at his hands. They are covered in blood. He looks at the floor below him. Blood all over. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Shit. We're losing him. Its going to have to come now. PUSH!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">NURSE</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Oh my... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Its coming out of my ass!!! Get it out! Get it out!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">How did... Okay... Okay... Breathe. Push! PUSH!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Ted starts screaming as he pushes. Veins are popping out of his head, and the screams are deafening. The Nurse passes out, and slip on the puddle of blood on the floor.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I see it. It's crowing. Keeping pushing!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">I hate you, ass hole.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">It's coming out. For the love of all that is good and holy, what is that?!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">A fist emerges from out of the sheet covering Ted's legs... and continues to grow. Its the size of a small man's arm.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">No. It can't be.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Get it out of me! I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I hate my wife!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Suddenly, a small sized man, about 4 feet tall, explodes out of the sheet and slides across the floor of the operating room. Its covered it fluids and gnarly substance. Ted is crying. Suddenly, the newborn CHILD stirs to life, and grunts.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">DOCTOR</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">It's alive! It lives! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">TED</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Kill it! Kill it now!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">The child rises, and turns towards its horrified father.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">CHILD</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Daddy?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">THE END<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">So, uh... yeah... that's pretty horrifying. I think I just wrote out my nightmare.</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-45963650445148016502009-12-29T17:52:00.003-07:002009-12-30T00:39:43.254-07:00The Legend of Yngwie Malmsteen<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZWZLPzDWwaZCFNKRNJqzZ3CBay37RumqBl7-YvpFxZh4TED4abFCvt0fOGzdeYjBjddLz7GesTY1QqxU2e3Zvwah7ZslPqm1-hAYH2vB6tBZt0l8p5emcLUPemJz2zVLdHFA3naaRFoLA/s1600-h/Yngwie+Malmsteen+l_8d4cbc0b9661c0e33cc08697a928.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZWZLPzDWwaZCFNKRNJqzZ3CBay37RumqBl7-YvpFxZh4TED4abFCvt0fOGzdeYjBjddLz7GesTY1QqxU2e3Zvwah7ZslPqm1-hAYH2vB6tBZt0l8p5emcLUPemJz2zVLdHFA3naaRFoLA/s320/Yngwie+Malmsteen+l_8d4cbc0b9661c0e33cc08697a928.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420826110806986418" /></a><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Born in the Year of Our Lord 1963, Yngwie Malmsteen literally exploded out of his mother's womb in Stockholm, Sweden. The great grandson of Viking warriors, Yngwie came out swinging an axe and has been shredding ever since.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Raised by his father, Sir Gunther Von Malmsteen, Yngwie was taught the trades of his father: Ass-kicking, cocaine snorting, and the art of looking amazing with a shirt open. Like his father, Yngwie was raised for four years by a pack of wolves in the artic tundra of northern Sweden. He supped from the teets of the wolves, which gave him strength, and frequented the Den Mother's parlor for wisdom and insight into the universe.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">This would all come together when at the age of 10, Yngwie formed his first band "The Ecstasy of My Emperor", which would go on to sell 3 million albums in Sweden by the time he was 12. Bored with this endeavor, Yngwie knew it was time to take it up a notch.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">With the blessing of his mother, whom he would sup with on a yearly basis, Yngwie journeyed across the plains of Asia, eventually coming across a caravan of Tibetan monks. Amongst those he would later call his "brethren", Yngwie would master the art of the shred. Consuming a massive amount of mind enhancing drugs, Yngwie would hit scales of 100,000 notes before stopping. It is now a known fact that the weight of Yngwie's shredding in the 70's led to the mass extinction of Russian Tigers and the Dodo due to brain hemorrhaging. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">When 1980 came about, Yngwie was now ready to share with the world the gift of rock. Releasing his first solo album in 1982, Yngwie brought peace to the Middle East, and eventually, held an audience with Pope John Paul II. John Paul was a devout believer in the power of Yngwie's rock, and was overheard at mass once saying, "Lord, please bless your children in the coming decade, but above all else, bless your Holy Son Yngwie Malmsteen, he who shreds mighty ass, and brings forth the Rock of Ages, that we your unworthy children have yearned so long for. Amen."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Suddenly, in 1994, Yngwie vanished. The world didn't know what happened to him, and eventually even ESPN were doing hourly updates on the whereabouts of the Rock God. The world waited and watched for six years (seasons in Yngwie time), until finally, at the stroke of midnight in New York City, Yngwie returned.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Appearing in a descending beam of light from the Heavens above, Malmsteen wore an open red robe adorned with the feathers of an Eagle as he shredded his guitar and eventually exploded the head of all the fake Sadam Hussein's who were listening intently, thus opening the way for Gulf War 2, and the expulsion of the real Sadam. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Today, we live in the presence of greatness, as Yngwie continues to rock our asses off with the gift of the Gods above, the gift of rock. If your daughters are chosen to be sired by Mr. Malmsteen, take upon this honor he has given you, and pray that he gives your daughters many sons, for then you shall know Yngwie has smiled upon you.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">It is predicted that by 2035, world peace will have been achieved through the power of Yngwie Malmsteen. His legend grows daily, and soon, he will bring forth fruit good for the world to consume through the power of his notes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Satan beware, for as Yngwie once told a distressed woman onboard a plane, "I'm bringing the fucking heat!"</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-56453696720428224272009-11-23T01:58:00.006-07:002009-11-23T02:33:03.476-07:00Olay Olay Olay Olay<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSAFYPeOVYFJELU-NJ9pyFMeWb-0yPU0e67ck7I-1qRnQIYiEVV8FHCIjLF3tNUQDK-wGSU9gUi549sBFyzI4ebqNto2D8oZ9ipGJQjymn0lHhN6Hm_89oksrmYl0jvTSsF_NyyG52zqO/s1600/2137099.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSAFYPeOVYFJELU-NJ9pyFMeWb-0yPU0e67ck7I-1qRnQIYiEVV8FHCIjLF3tNUQDK-wGSU9gUi549sBFyzI4ebqNto2D8oZ9ipGJQjymn0lHhN6Hm_89oksrmYl0jvTSsF_NyyG52zqO/s320/2137099.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407229685258568850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As some of you wisely know, I'm a fan of Real Salt Lake, also known as RSL.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tonight, they did something that I honestly didn't imagine could possibly happen. Yes, they won the MLS Cup in only their fifth year of existence, and will forever more don a star on their jersey. Yes, they dropkicked Beckham, and stopped the announcers blow job of Landon Donovan in the middle of the receiving.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, what I didn't see coming was that the Armies of Xenu would break forth from their cage in the Caligula System and try to wield an unholy sword over the good citizens of Seattle. In an epic struggle for life and death, the RSL Captain Kyle Beckerman unsheathed his hammer and proceeded to bring down holy fire upon the aliens. Viewers all over the globe were in awe as we not only witnessed a dazzling display of soccer, but also witnessed the downfall of Scientology's most vile of villains before our very eyes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As Xenu wept at the feet of Nick Rimando, a chant went out through the land: "Kill! Kill! KILL!" And there, before an audience of 750,000 live viewers, Rimando gave Xenu mercy. He said unto him, "Go, lay out your folly to the supporters of LA this day. Do your bidding amongst them, so that they might follow you back into your shallow grave. You are not, and never have been, welcome amongst us at RSL. Weep, and know that on this day you and your Galaxy fell."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With this, Xenu cowered away and David Beckham took him by his hand, kissed it, and they both left weeping, ass backwards towards the Great Pit of Carkoon. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thusly did the victorious RSL hoist the MLS Cup, and sup from its mighty basin. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a night of glory, high adventure and emotion, and most of all, it was a night the world will never forget when the overmatched and outmanned army of RSL overcame the forces of Xenu, whose vile LA Galaxy could not overcome the powers of righteousness. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Amen.</div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-32180030908191597262009-10-25T16:10:00.006-06:002009-10-25T16:43:26.123-06:00She Wants Revenge<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6o24NQyZ5Ix9P9bnOcG6kL3DloVwO4UgneNi1wMLe4Wo4FMbJdJ4WXPx3PKOSmYPfXKqBbHHSFSeI8LcZjxVMx_DyphqOv-F5U8hhZIPK1sFy9QjRKCJeTyE53LWpyxBSoqlQci1uVvmY/s1600-h/l_9c0640bf370051f694dfaf8880d03c5b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6o24NQyZ5Ix9P9bnOcG6kL3DloVwO4UgneNi1wMLe4Wo4FMbJdJ4WXPx3PKOSmYPfXKqBbHHSFSeI8LcZjxVMx_DyphqOv-F5U8hhZIPK1sFy9QjRKCJeTyE53LWpyxBSoqlQci1uVvmY/s320/l_9c0640bf370051f694dfaf8880d03c5b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396671815108033826" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Women.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I think it's the way they stink. It stinks </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">so</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> good. I hope we've all experienced the rich aromatic stink of a woman's skin, and the way it is only enhanced the closer we put our faces to their bodies. I find it intoxicating, and I'm sure my manlier friends feel the same way.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Let me just say this: Women of the world, don't ever change the way you smell once you've reeled a man in. We fall in love with you in large part because of this scent. So don't go doing anything stupid now.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You know what's another thing that's fantastic about a woman? Their hair. Now, I'm not talking necessarily about some dykey haircut. I'm talking about full, bouncy hair. The kind that falls off their neck and shoulders, and is dark and rich and full of passion. The kind of hair that you just want to smother your face in and use as your pillow for the night. It's Havana Nights in curlers. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A woman with great hair is already making a man think crazy.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But you know what else makes a man crazy?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A woman that wants to kill.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">There are some women out there my friends who are beautiful, charming, and own an extensive gun collection. Do we want these kind of women? It's a very serious question. I would tread carefully, and say yes. You want a woman who can kill. For you see, it's not necessarily about the size of her rack, but rather, the size of her lust for blood.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But why? Why not!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A woman who kills likes steak. Red steak. She wants the beef. She wants to watch football with you. She wants to play Xbox Live with her xXKillFace84Xx gamertag, and craves Gears of War 2 chainsaw battles. She laughed in </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Bambi</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">. They lust for revenge. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Being honest, they're pretty much perfect women. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Look, some women just want attention. Some women just want to be appreciated. Some women want to be loved.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And some women just want to kill.</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-35294478369721969132009-10-05T02:57:00.009-06:002009-10-05T03:20:01.375-06:00The Rules Of Manhood In The 24th Century<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqFP7tWiFowxGdw5MA4XsZyaz0j8zljEjJy0pE70ouw1ZNn31J6sysRdXZBpJlSCArPUn9b4zSkbQswsqRim9bgPjBS4AcYlgTonaynDZJbE1r0-ga4uzMixFu6o0mrCaupnQjNKTrcR0/s1600-h/captain_kirk_fit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqFP7tWiFowxGdw5MA4XsZyaz0j8zljEjJy0pE70ouw1ZNn31J6sysRdXZBpJlSCArPUn9b4zSkbQswsqRim9bgPjBS4AcYlgTonaynDZJbE1r0-ga4uzMixFu6o0mrCaupnQjNKTrcR0/s320/captain_kirk_fit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389037904326396162" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Since the 24th century is now upon us all, I realized I was past due on updating you all on how to be a man in this brave new world. Naturally, you're asking yourself, "Jonathan, how </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">can</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> I become a man in this bold frontier?" Well, I'm glad you came around, because I'm here to tell you how it's done.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #1: Get a good blaster by your side. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Some might call this a ray gun, or a phaser and what have you. The point is, it's a gun that shoots hot red laser bolts. I can't emphasize this enough. I've found myself in the thick of battle in one too many strange bars and cantinas out there, scamming some equally strange tail, and if it weren't for "The Duke", I wouldn't be here writing this guide.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #2: Alien tail is FAN-</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">tastic!</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Truly, there is nothing like grabbing some strange ass out there in the big bad galaxy. Just the other day I was cruising through the Crab Nebula, popped into the local diner, and saw the most bodacious broad this side of Scorpio. She was blue. She had red hair. She had fangs. She literally had a tail. It was hot. I tapped that shit. Do the same. You haven't lived until you've smelled what another woman's world smells like. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #3: Invest in a fast ship. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">All too often, we look at the cosmetics of a cruiser. Sure, we want the best looking ride available, but it's all about the personality, man. Don't be all bent out of shape over what she looks like on the outside, because it's the inside that counts. Whether you're smuggling beef steaks to the prisoners of Titan, or on a science mission to the Globular Cluster, remember - it's all about performance. A great ride will take you places my friend. Get something that defines you... not that alien wench in the cabin. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #4: Under no circumstances are you ever, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ever</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> allowed to blow dry your hair. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This, sir, makes you a pussy. I need not explain myself further. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #5: Dress to be comfortable, not for success. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Look, this isn't Starfleet. This is the 24th century! Crime is at an all time high, rebels are in the Outer Rim, and you can't even trust the woman you sleep with these days. The facts are, you've got to be ready to roll at any time lest the Po-Po's bust a cap in you. What do I recommend? Nothing like a good henley, some knee high leather boots, and a vest. Oh, and don't forget a good blaster.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #6: Crucial. You are not, nor will you ever be, Captain James T. Kirk.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The man is a legend that can only be aspired to, and never attained. When you learn this lesson, you my friend, will be ready for the 24th century.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Rule #7: Shoot first. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Be like Han. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-22250001299135075852009-09-07T01:53:00.003-06:002009-09-07T02:07:54.371-06:00Vampires. What's up?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3R5iFmAzLDN4t91t31ouuk5DH3mrYjgR7oQ2p8x45Oq5qi_rmZm1MqpY6NYD1euMahDaATrBoj44QkF8DFnvll-GPEHUhQKEL6p-oa5F_bTZcfNkFBATG6GxZAu-rGMNaIhdv8xhW-llr/s1600-h/ic114-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3R5iFmAzLDN4t91t31ouuk5DH3mrYjgR7oQ2p8x45Oq5qi_rmZm1MqpY6NYD1euMahDaATrBoj44QkF8DFnvll-GPEHUhQKEL6p-oa5F_bTZcfNkFBATG6GxZAu-rGMNaIhdv8xhW-llr/s320/ic114-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378630724834664754" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I make my triumphant return unto you, my loyal and faithful readers, with a subject not very dear to my heart, but fun no less. Of course, what I'm going to write about and I'm sure you've already guessed, is Vampires.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">What is it about Vampires that illicit cat calls from the the ladies? What is it about Vampires that inspire the highest form of "art" for the masses? My friends. I don't know. Let's explore.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">Obviously, we do know this much: Vampires have big dicks. It's really the only way to explain the fact that they have such magnetism from both the fairer and the stronger sex. There's an appeal about big dicks. Probably something to do with pheramones and stuff like that.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">Now that the obvious is out of the way, let's explore the mystery. I think it's safe to say vampires are not vegetarians. As we well know, vegetarianism if for pussies. Vampire's are definitely not pussies, even the effete ones. Christopher Lee will curb stomp you for even insinuating that he doesn't eat meat. Vampires are the biker gang of the horror realms of mythology. Bitchin' is a word that comes to mind.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">Of course, we have to acknowledge lame Vampires. I'm looking at the <i>Twilight </i>crew and company here, aka worst movie and book ever made my sane people. Let's not let them put a blight on the badassiviness of Vampires. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">I think we can all agree though that Vampires bring the romance in a way that guys can dig. For example, placing their mouths on the necks of beautiful woman... and sucking away. I love sucking on a woman's neck, and so do Vampires. It's something we bond over. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">In conclusion, I think we all know why Vampires rock the Casbah now. It's because they remind you of tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious beings. Which is what I am of course.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', -webkit-fantasy;">Yes, Clay, I just compared myself to a Vampire. Respect. End of posting. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-14549505469025735192009-07-22T03:19:00.002-06:002009-07-22T03:20:42.385-06:00Ass Pirates From Beyond The Grave<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; color: rgb(100, 95, 94); white-space: pre-wrap; "><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5708602&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5708602&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/5708602">Ass Pirates from Beyond the Grave</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2065275">Jonathan Martin</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></div></span><br /><br />It's here. Rape it. Continuously.JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-65459926304822809792009-06-23T00:17:00.002-06:002009-06-23T00:25:51.686-06:00Shut Your Lips And Learn!<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxbcvJBnJT4-eFhG9I_9dveOy_OeiIq-XiSVD-MJw4AkoazJToq2lsYCdHpOzpXyiLnd8cPVRpUIxAtnEdw9g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I'm doing this delicious thing where I'm posting little clips from my short film on various sites. You, my faithful readers, get the above clip.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I'm not even going to explain it. It's up to you to enlighten yourself when the time arouses itself. Yes, that's me acting in it. Yes, I have an axe. But no, I am not even remotely the star of this film. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Best enjoy. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-34940148469550484782009-06-15T21:26:00.008-06:002009-06-16T22:33:24.630-06:00Embrace: A Web Of Passion<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnthRF_UdxZiXr6rh_6qqbDvWdSElcVueBauweASK0jcEf_305aMPaejQzVcwZ6ynkCbilHWZz18weC-oBsVIcRa59CRTSiZJX0CvOvWNSUYWFIM1D1s-vik7cF1kYTVsocDcOqf07y0c/s1600-h/LR-Gallery.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnthRF_UdxZiXr6rh_6qqbDvWdSElcVueBauweASK0jcEf_305aMPaejQzVcwZ6ynkCbilHWZz18weC-oBsVIcRa59CRTSiZJX0CvOvWNSUYWFIM1D1s-vik7cF1kYTVsocDcOqf07y0c/s320/LR-Gallery.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347762528863260322" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">We aren't so different you and I. We enjoy manhood. We enjoy punching kittens. But most importantly, we enjoy laughing. Second to laughing, comes amusement. Thus, it is with firm amusement that I introduce you to this week's topic for you to lust at with your eyes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Romance novellas. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Inspired by a friend (or two) of mine, I am about to dip my wick into something that has long been anticipated by a few of you. I'm not sure I'm up for the task, but I'm going to get this on Melvin Udall style. I've got a small dog in my lap, I cooked up some bacon, and I just tickled a little Monty Python on the ol' white and black keys. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">So here goes... I'm thinking of a man, and I'm taking away reason and accountability. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">"He stormed into the room, ablaze with fury. She could see his eyes smoldering with a flame she had yet to see before. Quietly, she gripped the counter top with one hand, and slid the carving knife out of its place with the other. If there was a moment to strike, this was it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">She had long desired him to come unto her, to shower her with the affection and attention that she had so long forgotten. But after months of toiling in her fields without once making a move upon her person, she had given up on her lust. To her, she would rather see him dead than to see him alive in her arms.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">However, to her surprise he let out a roar of passion that would have seized the heart of even the most able mountain creature. It was a full-throated roar, as if the heavens had split open.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">She realized quickly.... much too quickly... that she was suddenly in dire need to change her underwear. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Could it be? Was this the moment she had longed for all these many months? Was it possible...?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Before she could even finish the next thought, she found herself backed against the counter top, with the beast simmering her eyes with the flame emitted forth from his dark set eyes. Lordy, was he a treasure to behold. His breathing captivated her, for it was like that of a wild bull which had come into her china closet and left without cleaning up. When she hired him in March, she knew in her darkest of hearts this day would come.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">She found that she had released the knife, and was already being lifted into the air. His strong hands, callused from the hard labor of his lifetime, rubbed her dress against her skin. It hurt, but it hurt good.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">As she stared down at him.... his biceps throbbing and his neck veins pulsing with energy, she whispered a throaty, alluring statement that failed to move him how she expected. Who was this beast? Who was this MAN?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Silence stirred the air, the energy between them so thick it was electric. Unbearable even.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Finally, the man spoke.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">"Woman. You best tell me that you made the eggs right this time, or I swear on my pappa's grave I will destroy your vagina. RAWARREWARRR!"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">She gulped. For the first time in months, she had made his eggs just how he liked them: Scrambled, with just the right hint of pepper. Damn. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">"Why, yes. I made them right... just the way you like it."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">He put her down firmly. He threw the stool against the wall, which made her quiver down her legs in a way that was most unlady like. He didn't notice.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">He picked up the spork on the table, which was left over from KFC the night before, and took a manly portion of yellow into his mouth. He chewed. Swallowed. And moaned.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The woman collapsed at that very moment, hitting her head firmly, knocking her out cold.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">When the paramedics woke her up a couple hours later, they told her she had slipped on a wet spot on the floor. It was the best news she had heard in months.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">As she laid in her bed, watching the paramedics leave through the window, she laughed to herself. When she turned to turn off her light however, there he was. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Just as naked as the day he came into the world."</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-49827909708543593742009-06-04T01:41:00.005-06:002009-06-04T02:08:09.766-06:00Warlocks Are REAL?! WTF?!<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVC53mJErSGvo9fLBkhZNGtWDDE9ol5FU8moJfyjonPanZWuj9N9U9SKDHVW1rN3Acst0-GpgW4u-K5A9cRNFyaHl3qUC1NMOEViWaoREh-A1NRbyjGrALudo3upbwmfHhf1bZ9231uzeI/s1600-h/widget_doi4A88Jbht7ZyXPx4aRb1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVC53mJErSGvo9fLBkhZNGtWDDE9ol5FU8moJfyjonPanZWuj9N9U9SKDHVW1rN3Acst0-GpgW4u-K5A9cRNFyaHl3qUC1NMOEViWaoREh-A1NRbyjGrALudo3upbwmfHhf1bZ9231uzeI/s320/widget_doi4A88Jbht7ZyXPx4aRb1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343374624694863682" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Every now and again, you come across an image that is more glorious than words, more profound than science, and more iconic than Kirk. What you see above is just such an image, an image that penetrates your soul, and answers questions never before asked. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I found this on a site provided to me by my good friends at Fist of Blog (see sidebar). This is the real deal people. Before your eyes, is a mother loving <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Warlock</span>!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My entire life, I always thought that Warlock's were something you read about it in really bad comic books, cheesy fantasy novels, and were the ire of the game master's master game plan. Sure, the idea of a Warlock was always pretty badass. Like the way that the idea of She-Ra is pretty badass. She-Ra naked, of course. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Warlocks cast spells and nut sack crazy stuff like shoot lighting bolts out of their friggin' eyes, or destroying realms and kingdoms in Central Europe, with the occasional stopover in Cornwall. Warlocks will nut in your face, and poof! do a magic trick to have a bat clean it up out of thin air. Warlocks were always better than witches in the fact they didn't need a cauldron to call upon the dark forces, but they had a whole volcano mountain to do their dirty in.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Of course, this was all fun and games. Warlocks weren't real. Never could be. Never will be.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That is... until I saw the above image. Then my whole world came crashing down into a gabble of reality that caused me to spill my beverage. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I don't know who this Warlock was trying to trick, but he is without doubt a Warlock, man. Look at his Familiar! Those damn cat eyes looking out at an inanimate object. Black as night, black as evil. Only Warlocks are evil enough to take a picture with their Familiar, and this Warlock is certainly no exception. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then there is the Warlock himself. Notice the aura around his curly mop of fro. The penetrating stare, so benign it's evil. I image his voice is a booming microphone of power, throbbing with intensity. It's like he's trying to blend in, but he can't fool a trained eye.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In conclusion, if you see a Warlock, run. Don't walk. Don't try and be sly. He will know you have sabotaged his espionage, and he <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">will</span> swallow your soul. I don't know what else I need to say to convince you. All I know is that there is a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">freaking</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Warlock</span> with his <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">freaking Familiar</span>, staring into the vastness of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">freaking</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">space!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And to think, some glamour photographer got to capture it. All I could imagine is that he/she bumped their assistant and whispered, "Dude. Warlock."</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-74988900733622914332009-06-02T01:55:00.005-06:002009-06-02T02:37:34.375-06:00I Am A Man. Thank You.<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5EwmxD9-uULZjlHtV__Ekx2bRlY9BHhKk3jZ1Q7iD5EDiQmh2T_stU1-b6eUKLLQSovcUbeGJLMZOf9qoFaB9uZj0HhVoOXb1VBP2B1IQF3H_sMzkUD7ZjI38bxw3Y5yBnn6QwOwmFeI/s1600-h/walker.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5EwmxD9-uULZjlHtV__Ekx2bRlY9BHhKk3jZ1Q7iD5EDiQmh2T_stU1-b6eUKLLQSovcUbeGJLMZOf9qoFaB9uZj0HhVoOXb1VBP2B1IQF3H_sMzkUD7ZjI38bxw3Y5yBnn6QwOwmFeI/s320/walker.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342636698803293874" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am a man. It is awesome.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I pee standing up. Which yes, does in fact rock most righteously. I lack that extra layer of fat that every woman I know complains about... and which we all know is in reality a myth any way. I dig action films. My grandpa knew the Marx Brothers. Yeah, that's how my kin roll. Because I'm descended from a very long line of manhood. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">See, we men... we don't fret that we come out of each other. It's just what we do. We spawn men. If a woman is spawned, we just say, "My bad", and carry on. At least real men carry on. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Manhood comes in three forms. These forms are distinct and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">every </span>man falls into one of these three categories. To help clarify, I will name names to put into each of these categories. This is the career ender, partner. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">1. 2. 3. Let's stick this pig!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The first category: Pussies. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Pussy men make up the lowest head on the totem pole. These are your sissy boys. Your limp wristed sushi servers. Men who never learned to throw a baseball. They listen to Air Supply with their pants off. They will bring you flowers on a first date. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">These men <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">can</span> and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">will</span> cock block you at every turn. If you bring one of these men to a party to be your wingman, it is folly! Never bring a pussy boy to serve as your wingman. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They are most commonly identified by the clothes they wear and their daily activities. Usually, these guys will shop exclusively at Banana Republic. They wear chinos to the Lakers game. They get their haircut once a month, and they shower every single day. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">These are men who are most prone to getting hair plugs. Associate with them at your own peril.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Examples from history: Justin Timberlake, Liberace, and Goliath. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Next up, we have the second category of men: Douchebags. Douchebags are everywhere, committing crimes of douchebaggery in your very neighborhood as we speak. There isn't even a chance you might know a douchebag. It is a reality, that you, I, and everyone else on this planet know a douchebag. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">True exchange once overheard in Saudi Arabia: Servant - "Sheik, did you just see that douchebag hitting on that wench from your harem?" Sheik - "Yes. It's my brother. And he will die in the desert.... tonight. Douchebag."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They're easy to spot. They dress in Abercrombie & Fitch, Hollister, and American Eagle. They drive lifted trucks. If that lifted truck has a pair of dangling balls on it's rear, then you have come across a full-blown douchebag that deserves a punch in the nuts. They sexually abuse themselves with tanning cream. Even if they're bald, they <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">still </span>spike their hair. You've seen this! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They also have code speak with each other. Common phrases heard:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Bro."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Bra."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Wanna get drunk, bro?"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Dude. I slept with your sister."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Does popping my collar make my neck look fat?"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Bitch, please."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Sorry. I didn't mean to finish so soon."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">At all costs, you must avoid the douchebag. Yes, it is unavoidable, and that's the Catch-22. You probably work for a douchebag, and to that, I say I am sorry. Just don't let him make you a pussy boy.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Examples: Johnny (from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Karate Kid</span>), Biff (from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Back To the Future</span>), Robert Pattinson (that douchebag from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span>), and Isaac Newton (total douche).</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Which brings us to the final category: Man's Man.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">At this point, is an explanation even necessary? Of course it isn't. If you need an explanation, then you are either a.) a woman, or b.) not a man's man, pussy. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Examples: Hugh Jackman, Ceasar, Guy Fawkes, Ghengis Khan, Captain Kirk, Flash Gordon, George Washington, Joseph Smith, Yngwie Malmsteen, Alexander the friggin' Great, Charles Bronson, Australians, etc. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am a man. And so are you. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now let's go hunt a wild boar with our bare hands in the forest at night or some crazy shit like that. ARRRRGGGGHHH!</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-40708200445336515492009-05-22T02:01:00.008-06:002009-05-22T02:53:08.276-06:00Mix Tape V 2.0<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "><div><br /></div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HWo0BcPgtGU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HWo0BcPgtGU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/C5AS_l71-Wc&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/C5AS_l71-Wc&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LbvP7dT3Dx0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LbvP7dT3Dx0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f0UOZ9NHDsY&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f0UOZ9NHDsY&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Fn6-XqmkKUA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Fn6-XqmkKUA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NGhoRRm0I5M&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NGhoRRm0I5M&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VnejLmQGYhg&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VnejLmQGYhg&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4N3N1MlvVc4&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4N3N1MlvVc4&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hKUBTX9kKEo&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hKUBTX9kKEo&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dKQBxcskN9s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dKQBxcskN9s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-32176905789901246922009-05-05T01:25:00.003-06:002009-05-05T01:54:42.858-06:00Damn You Hugh Jackman<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7R5oi2zpXK_PnuaR4fpQfqO9K9hyphenhyphenYB_ercWVsQwoOrnb5Yoly5gFxDCdCxX-DAgnyx5VrUxm5GqmtSVDwJeGBb4GdL3Z8p50iDJlkkub8TIEngrLoE4RAK2XcvYU8bOh94w4LfaGurUE/s1600-h/hugh_jackman_australia_movie_image__1_.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7R5oi2zpXK_PnuaR4fpQfqO9K9hyphenhyphenYB_ercWVsQwoOrnb5Yoly5gFxDCdCxX-DAgnyx5VrUxm5GqmtSVDwJeGBb4GdL3Z8p50iDJlkkub8TIEngrLoE4RAK2XcvYU8bOh94w4LfaGurUE/s320/hugh_jackman_australia_movie_image__1_.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332237894076240946" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Hugh Jackman makes me uncomfortable. I'll tell you why. He makes me question my manhood.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I'm a man. I have abs. I groom myself well. I love rock n' roll. I've donkey punched rabbits. I've been to the Middle East. Then, out of the blue, Hugh "World's Sexiest Man 2008" Jackman pops up onto the screen and I start to get butterflies in my stomach. What the...?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">So this past weekend, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Wolverine</span> came out. It made $87 million at the box office. No, contrary to popular belief, that was not money made off of millions of comic book geeks. That was money made off of millions of comic book geeks coming out of the closet for Hugh friggin' Jackman. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">It wasn't always like this. I wanted to hate the guy. When I first heard he was cast as Wolverine back in the day, me along with every other geek gave out a collective "WTF?". Then we saw X-Men. Since then, millions of men started harboring something we didn't quite know what to make sense of deep within ourselves.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The first report of the phenomena came out in a USA Today article the day after the film's release. David, a 17 year old nerd living in his mother's basement in Des Moines, told his mother, "Mom. I'm in love with Wolverine." Shocked that she raised her boy to be such a man, she demanded that David never see another Hugh Jackman movie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Today, David is at the head of the "Real Men Love Hugh Jackman" (RMLHJ) movement. It now has thousands of members, and David estimates that at least 1 out of every 4 men in the country harbors a secret sort of man love for Hugh. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">When I spoke to David, he discussed the movements main goal. "Look, most young men live a normal life, until that moment they first see Wolverine on screen. It's really the first time, and only time really, that they'll see a big, throbbing man on screen. What we're trying to do is help these men identify at an earlier age that yes, they are in love with Hugh Jackman, and yes, it's okay."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">David lists these ten items as common signs that you too are in love with Hugh Jackman.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">1. You're male.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">2. You register for theater classes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">3. You have an uncontrollable urge to count your carbs.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">4. You see every single Hugh Jackman movie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">5. You smile every time you see Hugh Jackman's face... or abs.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">6. You find it difficult to achieve an erection after watching a Hugh Jackman movie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">7. You own every single AC/DC album produced.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">8. Your favorite restaurant is Outback.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">9. You don't shave your chest.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">10. You take cold showers in the morning.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Damn you, Hugh Jackman. I hate you. I hate your perfect biceps. I hate your great hair. I hate your ab vein that featured so prominently in <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Australia. </span>I hate that you count carbs and eat brown rice for breakfast. I hate that you've got a bad-ass accent. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Just go away so men can be men again. You're ruining it for the rest of us. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-40349176460695041762009-04-19T20:17:00.012-06:002009-04-19T21:15:48.469-06:00Sneaking A Peek<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchuxC6b37vLI0PVAQdryyYFCQN-0JPuMnVtyY8fjT9bIpMLejECR7hL5SeXzIOIglp1vDO0TcGVeuj7kIhNXj1AQPuo8nFKurW0YsT8XYXLy4y7Ue0ErMbuTwMWMSbrx9CIbQSBN5LGj8/s1600-h/cleavage.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchuxC6b37vLI0PVAQdryyYFCQN-0JPuMnVtyY8fjT9bIpMLejECR7hL5SeXzIOIglp1vDO0TcGVeuj7kIhNXj1AQPuo8nFKurW0YsT8XYXLy4y7Ue0ErMbuTwMWMSbrx9CIbQSBN5LGj8/s320/cleavage.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326592193476688450" /><br /></a><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">If you just got yammed sneaking a peek at the above photo, then I have written this posting expressly for you my friend.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">There is an art to enjoying Thanksgiving early, and that art doesn't necessarily mean eye contact. You need to find both a way to linger on the site whilst not being caught at a disadvantage. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Remember, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">you</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> are the man. Act like one. Admire from a distance. It is a common misperception that you must get closer to admire the pumpkins on her chest. This is a fatal mistake, and you have failed. Do you get closer to the television screen to play Halo? No. So why are you going to enjoy Chest Ass at a distance that is too close to ever fully appreciate?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Sneaking a peek has gone back through the centuries. It's a well documented truth that Egyptian males built monoliths not only a tribute to the phallus (like any great civilization ruled by men would), but also because it was the perfect perch for cleavage observance. In Rome, Caesar was known for his escorts that would watch for the finest cleavage in the Empire for him. Henry VIII was a rampant peeker, and let's not get started on Abraham Lincoln, whose absurd height allowed him access to places shorter men have only dreamed of.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Look, it's not that complicated. A woman deserves to be appreciated when she's putting her ya-ya's in your face, and it's your God given right to embellish your optical senses with her milk cartons. So what if she's a whore? She's only a whore if you indulge her. Don't. Just look, look some more, then look away and pass on by.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">If you happen to get yammed staring at the binary sunset, remember, you have a penis. This gives you certain unalienable rights in this world. So in that moment that you get caught, just remember that you have a penis, and she doesn't. Whatever happens after this moment, is all good, because at least you have that one reassuring thought.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Still, I understand you need an escape plan amateur. Here's what you do: First, don't make eye contact (if you </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">do </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">happen to make eye contact, introduce yourself. She'll dig your confidence, or she'll be repulsed. Either way, it's a win-win). Second, pick up your drink, meal, book, and act like you were in deep thought. Finally, after about 90 seconds, leave. Do not leave your number behind because you </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">will </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">be found on facebook, and you </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">will </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">be accused of stalking.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">In conclusion, cleavage is indeed amazing. It is also proven through science, which is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">never </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">wrong nor can proven to be so, that if you stare long enough you might spontaneously combust. It happens most often in China, of all places, and is responsible for 525 deaths annually. Don't be a statistic. </span></div></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-79754908511882126572009-04-16T18:40:00.008-06:002009-04-16T19:23:59.034-06:00Cats<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6nHpacFVfbAHav5ZnZMh9V3tRbA_nG42hswbSB2G-gXGwxpx2UEenoybZoLTdRM251J-rDinR-UQEGm0Ar9Rai5cTfbWDjQBGsrP8FlyUzBc4a0xrgs-7hOfTPXDILsylJgY9uRhmcgr/s1600-h/i-can-haz-cheezburger-cat-cheeseburger_big.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6nHpacFVfbAHav5ZnZMh9V3tRbA_nG42hswbSB2G-gXGwxpx2UEenoybZoLTdRM251J-rDinR-UQEGm0Ar9Rai5cTfbWDjQBGsrP8FlyUzBc4a0xrgs-7hOfTPXDILsylJgY9uRhmcgr/s320/i-can-haz-cheezburger-cat-cheeseburger_big.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325454676656272786" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I hate cats.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">When God created the earth, he realized that outside of Satan, he didn't really have anything else to torment man with. So he created cats.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">People will try to tell you that everybody loves cats. This is not true because cats don't need your love, and therefore don't deserve our love. If I had it my way, there would be a week long holiday the world over that observed the traditional cat hunt.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">During this cat hunt, anything would be acceptable. If you wanted to, say, bludgeon a kitten with a battle mace, awesome. If you desired to blind fold cats and line them all up against a wall with glued in cigarettes in their mouths while performing mass executions, just as swell. Cat fights to the death? All good. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yes, I realize that some of you who are reading this are cat lovers. What you may not realize, like I do however, is that you have been brainwashed. Cats are not your friends, and never were or will be. If this were the Spanish Inquisition, and if cats could talk, they would turn you in. Instantly. There's no loyalty there. Don't deny what you know to be true, cat lover.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Has there ever been a good movie made about cats? No. Has there ever been a good movie made about dogs however? Yes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Dogs are the cock and balls to the cats vagina. Dogs are kick ass. What's even better is that a dog needs you. Cats on the other hand are the pre-madonnas of not just the animal kingdom, but of all forms of life in the solar system. They are the Samantha of your household, and they </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">will</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> bring home a TomCat each week.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">On top of all this, cats would easily make the creepiest zombies. Imagine a zombie cat coming for you, moaning like it does in the night with it's crazy yellow eyes peering at you, hungering to devour your brain after you just fed Foo-Foo some Meowmix earlier in the day. Creepy ass shit!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I promise you this. No cat will never, ever lay its head on my pillow. And no, you cannot has cheeseburger before bed!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm also allergic to cats in a serious way. A cat bit me when I was a kid. I've been clawed by cats. And I've had a cat put it's ass in my face. So maybe this entry is a tad bit biased, yet my vengeance is not yet satisfied. Again. I hate cats, and cats hate me.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This will not be my final posting on cats</span>. </div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-5903944760532048302009-04-10T01:07:00.016-06:002009-04-10T03:28:16.624-06:00Journey. Tool of Satan.<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgKZ6F_KVQ9Bhe9ShkgHCn58ohzHwjHqLVQld1QYdfQ43jootTu5vhDntOWsiE2LDrNqjQqcYOv3XaWLVXcxT5iRCdx1VWN5AAm1yDVVlTFmG-IIVbtxi8pUcVmrbYp8lrrm96oK2vxtb/s1600-h/journey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgKZ6F_KVQ9Bhe9ShkgHCn58ohzHwjHqLVQld1QYdfQ43jootTu5vhDntOWsiE2LDrNqjQqcYOv3XaWLVXcxT5iRCdx1VWN5AAm1yDVVlTFmG-IIVbtxi8pUcVmrbYp8lrrm96oK2vxtb/s320/journey.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322957793075270226" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So recently, I found some new heroin in my closet. I don't know how long it's been lurking in its plastic, but it's been there. Waiting. Stalking. Abusing me with its eyes. Lurking for years, it finally exposed itself to me. And I haven't stopped staring since.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Unfortunately, growing up can only expose you to so much. I myself was exposed to Madonna at an early age, which resulted in an unhealthy obsession of dancing in front of blondes. I had an Intellivision home video game unit, which damned me to a life long love affair with video games. Also, like so many of you my brothers and sisters of the cloth, I was righteously exposed to muppets, resulting thusly in a love affair for talking socks. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I blame Salsa Snack for this latest obsession. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What is Salsa Snack, you are privy to ask? I can't say much, but let's say it involves a female, naked of course, doing things to her body that no human being should ever consider. It is all played to an endless loop of 'Anyway You Want It' by Journey. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It made my desensitized friend Zack Taylor, cry. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The obsession is of course, to you the constant reader, fairly obvious. It's Journey (aka Satan's Lullaby). For the last 30 years, Journey has carved their place in rock history by becoming the one band that no one hates. This fact alone can mean only one thing:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">1. They are evil.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">2. They must be stopped.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">......</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So in celebration of the Anti-Christ's 30 years of uninterrupted rule, we're going to sit down together, and analyze some of Journey's greatest hits youtube style.</span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ip1zsUIosoA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ip1zsUIosoA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Here it is, the song that started the love affair the world over. There he is, Steve Perry dominating. Domination only occurs like this at Wembley, and this looks like some stadium that was probably torn down in the 90's. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Have you ever wondered where the midnight train went to? Ask the lady in the Salsa Snack video. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I can't figure out what is up with Perry's jeans. It's almost like he's wearing granny panties under there, and he's just ashamed to show it off. It's not really so disturbing so much as it is awesome. Awesome as in not. At least he's pulling off the Leopard print shirt better than Whoopie. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Oh, and he's tucking left.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As I'm listening to the lyrics, I realize that this song is kind of depressing. "Some are born to sing the blues?" WTF? What is that for hope and glory? Chalk one up for reasons to do a faceplant on Journey's face. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I mean, honestly. Why am I supposed to not stop believing when you're telling some of us that we're born to shit in a gutter our whole lives. Don't be selling your Coke to me when I know it ain't in a green bottle. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Job Posting: Are you a long haired white man from in your mid to late 20's? Do you own a sleeveless shirt? Then you too can perform with Journey on stage. You will, however, be required to hand out kool-aid to the fans at the end of the experience. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gFC8sDTXlng&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gFC8sDTXlng&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">By default, I had to pick this next one. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I think it's fairly obvious and beyond debate that the "Wheel In the Sky" is the giant wheel that slave Conan pushes for about half his life, turning him into a brutal killing machine who's great purpose is to crush his enemies, and to listen to the lamentations of their women.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Only Satan would conceive of a device so brilliantly evil and badass, and only Journey, Satan's right hand, would sing a song about it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This live performance comes from a German television show. Looking at them, they obviously don't know quite what to make of the shirtless Mexican singing soothing words to them with his wicked voice.... dominating, yet again. It's like they dare not groove to the vibrations that emanate from the speakers lest they arouse the demons that live within the instruments of the band. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That, or they're just being typically German.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The best part of this song/video? When Steve Perry jizzes himself at the end.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-EYS1LV10o&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-EYS1LV10o&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Sony, being the typical dick in the house, have put a block on the awesomeness of the original Journey videos. So these bootlegs will just have to do, Dylan style and all.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">True story. "Separate Ways" was inspired by how Hitler designed the VW Beatle. Getting a hold of a synthesizer, Journey played together through the night under the same mad spell that Hitler was under when he created the "Love Bug". </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yes, it's true. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Giving Journey a synth inspired them to create such a mad work of genius that was on level, if not exceedingly so, with the the most evil man in the history of the planet (TM). While historians may debate this for the decades, know this... that I, Jonathan, showed you the evil instrumentations and grand designs behind Journey's maddeningly awesome chtunes. I pulled away the curtain and you were beholden. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Separate Ways" inspired a generation of occultists. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">is</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> ol' Stevie saying at the end? I'll share. It's Japanese for: "Bring your youngest male child verily to the front of this stage, so that we might therefore partake of their flesh to thank you for this wonderful venue you have provided for us thusly."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FP-yr6iWPMs&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FP-yr6iWPMs&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Well this video kicks off with a bang. It's almost like we've been time warped to the start of Super Bowl XX, and the Jim McMahon has just handed the ball off to Sweetness for the go ahead touchdown... 30 seconds into the game.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Easily, the best part of this video is the white, two-tailed jacket that Steve Perry dominates your face in. He literally just smacked you with your own wii-mote, and put his big left testicle into your mouth. At this point, does it really matter? Does he have to impress you with his cut off shirts? His "O" face? No. He doesn't. He just has to tease his hair, jump 3 inches into the air, and high five the air.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Oh, sweet guitar solo, man. That is wicked cool... way to enco.....</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">WHAT. IS. PIANO. GUY. WEARING?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I had no idea that Journey hosted finger painting contests for their fans before the show.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So there you have it... A look back at my newest batch of heroin. I fully recommend that you give in, pick up a copy of Journey's Greatest Hits, and burn a couple of candles. It lets the evil seep in a bit more easily.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">For once Steve Perry enters your soul... he'll dominate it. Forever. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-86125444202473051192009-03-21T01:49:00.006-06:002009-03-21T18:04:45.847-06:00Confessions Of A Calendar Model<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM7mx-pU_9QA13gAIE0JiUkyd1yBWLt1efj6nQNTdIcc0UU1C26zMQKaXYMslb58SQq9BO9eMaquat6os88ybg99wkM71N6cVsGUkwZg1TyDJtmTG5gUVrTRJc28o9Yez9IZpU56Sw0lb/s1600-h/AlternateApril.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM7mx-pU_9QA13gAIE0JiUkyd1yBWLt1efj6nQNTdIcc0UU1C26zMQKaXYMslb58SQq9BO9eMaquat6os88ybg99wkM71N6cVsGUkwZg1TyDJtmTG5gUVrTRJc28o9Yez9IZpU56Sw0lb/s320/AlternateApril.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315545077620327106" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It is the middle of June, 2007. I find myself in a park, on a bench, with no shirt on.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">How did I find myself here, sustaining my body only on a diet of cigarettes and Diet Coke? The photographer stares at me through his lens, and as the cold glass touches upon each one of my nipples, I think without emotion, "When do I get to take these pants off?"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Families stroll by in this Las Vegas park, taking little notice of the physical specimen that perches himself next to the faux flowers and strategically placed lamppost. It's supposed to be "England", but the dead air betrays this lie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I really wish someone would spitzer my abs with some water. I want to look like I just arrived out of the water, like some great lizard awakened from his millennial sleep out of the depths. Sadly, this is not to be so I battle the elements to give my fiercest gaze into the lens that attempts to penetrate my body.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It's windier than it should be, and as a result, my hair has been pomaded more than is necessary. I'm more Enrique than I am Johnny. Do I like it? Maybe. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">How did I get myself into this?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It all began with an email. Perceived to be a "Beautiful Mormon Man", I was solicited to share with the world the naughty goodness of my body, the delectable sweets of my 8-pack, and the mischief of my eyes. I thought about it. Briefly. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Do I dare do that which is groundbreaking? Do I dare become a "beefcake"? What will my mother think? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I accept. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Today I find out that I am adored by few, reviled by fewer, and I have a sweet gig to my credit. Thus, I will answer your questions fully now:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yes. I did.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">No, it's not padded.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Often.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Why would I lie about that?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I find waxing to be quite relaxing, to be honest. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Everyday. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That would actually be Kurt Russell. Positive. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I didn't bite her. She bit me.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Black.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Interviews roll in. An agency hires me. I can hear the voices of the proud, and the disenfranchised. Am I a villain? No, because I haven't got any henchman. Do I want some? Yes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Honestly, I consider myself on the level with Willy Wonka. I shared with the world my chocolate factory. It partook. Does it want more? Depends how many golden tickets I have.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm back to June, 2007. The photographer is done adoring my body with his mechanical wonder. I've officially become a "beefcake". Soon I'll be known as Mr. April. MSNBC will introduce me to the world as such, and it ain't so bad. Well, not yet at least.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And one more thing: Oh yeah, it's real baby. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">NOTE: Some of the "facts" in this post are lies. </span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-37395097978664871902009-03-10T02:37:00.006-06:002009-03-10T02:53:57.895-06:00Trailer Madness<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cZJif529ARM&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cZJif529ARM&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">What you are witnessing is a project long in the works now, and finally coming to fruition. I give unto you the world premiere for the first official trailer of my documentary film <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I Am From Nowhere: The People History Ignored</span>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Along with Zack Taylor, who co-produced the film with me as well as took the still photography on the picture, we traveled on an epic journey to Poland, Slovakia, Canada, and Connecticut to get the footage necessary to put together what I hope to be a truly amazing film.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The film is about everyone's favorite Carpathians (and I'm not speaking about Vigo, although he was awesome too), the Lemkos.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Also involved with production was my mother, Karen Martin, who was the other producer, as well as our translator, Brad Powleson. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The film was directed and is currently being edited by yours truly. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let me know what you think and be sure to watch it in high quality. Thank you much. </div></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-43494556443393389412009-03-04T00:29:00.033-07:002009-03-04T03:26:10.180-07:00A Symphony Of Bad Ass<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzGWGB0knEvlQfNfPHXoTiDdytk1PlsEf9loCICGw-v8tg478VKRijvKeHd48px9Wmc9TiCdYSJ_Om-p77kNjWEzTsJNlwLSbhe9SKDhbax7FnyDnjKvZkvYS_1XSmx8A2rz_YuOqgGBB/s1600-h/predator-1.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 290px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzGWGB0knEvlQfNfPHXoTiDdytk1PlsEf9loCICGw-v8tg478VKRijvKeHd48px9Wmc9TiCdYSJ_Om-p77kNjWEzTsJNlwLSbhe9SKDhbax7FnyDnjKvZkvYS_1XSmx8A2rz_YuOqgGBB/s320/predator-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235591518431202" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"What... the Hell... are </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">you</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">?"</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Hells yes! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Mozart ain't got nothing on this. Beethoven? Amateur. Holst? Jupiter can't get triumphant enough. What's that ish you're bringing Elgar? Graduations for a hundred plus years you say? Piss off.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Not one of you fine gentleman had the balls to write a tome worthy enough for generations of man and his hood. Not one of you had the dignity to write a symphony that could pump testosterone into the veins of your brethren through the simple utterance of the movement.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">No. None of the "masters" had the bravado, grandeur, nay, the genius to write, let alone conduct a "Symphony of Bad Ass". That was until 1987 when John McTiernan stepped up to the plate.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The opus only needed one word. Just </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">one</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">. That word? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Predator.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> </span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlO5ZCmzfC8DM3vZYDgucIfFaEvYdJjxhC_ccRhgjhJ61e8cGs5js7yi7R8tUSJbZbUK7K-HuiCgHfP4mHXZAqd25dIUQn5sGTFOlQesZQNV60owx6de5PvNaRtNAKOth-DBp72KhdYWl/s1600-h/439066469_ca87df366b.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlO5ZCmzfC8DM3vZYDgucIfFaEvYdJjxhC_ccRhgjhJ61e8cGs5js7yi7R8tUSJbZbUK7K-HuiCgHfP4mHXZAqd25dIUQn5sGTFOlQesZQNV60owx6de5PvNaRtNAKOth-DBp72KhdYWl/s320/439066469_ca87df366b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235588397598274" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"What's the matter? The CIA got you pushing too many pencils?"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">At this moment, if you are not currently chubbing, I will ask you to cease reading this blog immediately. For the rest of us, proceed. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The film Predator is indeed a wonderful achievement. It's a film who's virtues go beyond mere poetry, but into the very fabric of string theory itself!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">When a film begins with a free-standing, no holds barred arm wrestling match between Carl Weathers and Arnold Schwarzenegger, you know it's time to get the tissues ready. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">There isn't a day that goes by where I secretly wish that I could just come up to an old friend and do a free-standing throw down. What's too true is that I'm probably not the only one who feels this way even in my own neighborhood.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0otJ2yurPtVvicowFRZoidxAN-MWpAEXZwgJjQsy-b6BDjo0XoNtwrROKE1tptLZkfSmbDkZ-StKR6njhyphenhyphen2BKyYkPCT5ZoRGxLfnOf3-tm9JLU_eTFOBHfXWAAJ6XUFl7tUJ3uPIgCPf/s1600-h/predator-2.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0otJ2yurPtVvicowFRZoidxAN-MWpAEXZwgJjQsy-b6BDjo0XoNtwrROKE1tptLZkfSmbDkZ-StKR6njhyphenhyphen2BKyYkPCT5ZoRGxLfnOf3-tm9JLU_eTFOBHfXWAAJ6XUFl7tUJ3uPIgCPf/s320/predator-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235586413297522" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Awesome Movie. So-So poster.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Predator gives us cinematic perfection. Plain and simple. <br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You want gunfights? You got it. You want aliens? Got that too. Nudity? Who needs it when you've got bodybuilders, wrestlers, ex-porn stars, comedians, and amazing 'taches vying for your attention. One liners? This film has more one liners rolled into it than the entire Bond franchise. </span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgN3cdRmz-OjioY8rJnuIJsgd8VHtHxYpdEyLc4jg6NfnBJ8K7rGGrOGe-2W3x69Ila2kXOHkTuAwj4ElsS6uVPiY5QohtaqGfMhpEl8bLvvd-sJkr-17tu4g2J33pJHk1pb_WF9U0MGe/s1600-h/336_2.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgN3cdRmz-OjioY8rJnuIJsgd8VHtHxYpdEyLc4jg6NfnBJ8K7rGGrOGe-2W3x69Ila2kXOHkTuAwj4ElsS6uVPiY5QohtaqGfMhpEl8bLvvd-sJkr-17tu4g2J33pJHk1pb_WF9U0MGe/s320/336_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235579395515762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;">"We hit nothing!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The film's premise itself is pretty simple. A top secret military operation gets fuh'd up in the Central American jungle. Cue top notch invitation to a bad ass, members only, mercenary unit led by Arnold. Go in, fix the operation, kill some guerillas, job well done.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That is until a friggin' alien with natty dreads and pinchers for a mouth starts skinnin' your members only squad up in the jungle! What's he doing with the men? Oh, you know, only collecting their friggin' <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">heads</span> for friggin' <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ornaments</span> or some crazy-ass shiz like that! He's big, he's scary, he carries mini-nukes as a kamikaze device. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Point is, the premise just dropped off the hook, and you better buckle up, because we're not in Kansas anymore Cinderella!</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijL_Zzmh2g3byXNbr0HIB8iGbkQmBqKMIGSgIzquOgrcQFTIJiIrqcRVZIUzIEC2sLUQ4lMnUhkhHxV2rscq0eoHnLhr89nIXPnMoQ4tc4c6oDMlKjpyX39Bs9SFZt3ErBhj_xAzgXIRmf/s1600-h/Website-+Weathers.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijL_Zzmh2g3byXNbr0HIB8iGbkQmBqKMIGSgIzquOgrcQFTIJiIrqcRVZIUzIEC2sLUQ4lMnUhkhHxV2rscq0eoHnLhr89nIXPnMoQ4tc4c6oDMlKjpyX39Bs9SFZt3ErBhj_xAzgXIRmf/s320/Website-+Weathers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235309818195250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Carl Weathers. You can be my wingman anytime.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I mentioned the film had one liners. Here's a spattering of what is on hand. Their words, not mine. I can only hope to one day be so clever.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Son of a bitch is dug in like an Alabama tick."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Stick around." (Said whilst Arnie chucks a machete into a guy, who subsequently gets jammed into a wooden post.)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"If it bleeds, we can kill it."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Bleed, bastard."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Dillon. You son of a bitch." (I use this at least once a month. Seriously.)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Knock- knock!"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Payback time."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"This place makes Cambodia look like Kansas."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">We could go on... obviously. </span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgZgyxjbM2jXzpyS9a7RuH_aQXQswnYt8jkodTWYlmEO-ZVJzywkhducN5MdUCOtwVTROFN3NVmUwvuh_1nJsI_89hlhLwIqrGPXJ4SSf4M9sHYbIPQ6SGQGEAuLptWPOyxjxHijOzFX9/s1600-h/predator_1987_mac.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgZgyxjbM2jXzpyS9a7RuH_aQXQswnYt8jkodTWYlmEO-ZVJzywkhducN5MdUCOtwVTROFN3NVmUwvuh_1nJsI_89hlhLwIqrGPXJ4SSf4M9sHYbIPQ6SGQGEAuLptWPOyxjxHijOzFX9/s320/predator_1987_mac.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235309124329762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Anytime"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The characters in this film are all memorable, all equally awesome. Let's highlight a few of them. Above, you've got Mac. Dude shaves without cream. Yeah, Mac shaves with a cheap Bic razor and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">no</span> cream. He doesn't have much use for words, but homeslice will find you and cut you down with that Bic razor.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Respect Mac. He's been places. He's seen things. He even stabs a boar about halfway through the film roughly a dozen times. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13pksVc5LYiw-q4pQbCNqzEOWDFtT3Ed5tX4RTlRqKhIhyphenhyphenjn6Z-vklXa0z5FAPP_P9-kJAIC5THFjU7CnLFgAcpDwkZpTiZ-Q5Px-Wub0CI49xrvAYW13sukE1x9ybANW9gGzwDsUeOTT/s1600-h/wwjesse.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 284px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13pksVc5LYiw-q4pQbCNqzEOWDFtT3Ed5tX4RTlRqKhIhyphenhyphenjn6Z-vklXa0z5FAPP_P9-kJAIC5THFjU7CnLFgAcpDwkZpTiZ-Q5Px-Wub0CI49xrvAYW13sukE1x9ybANW9gGzwDsUeOTT/s320/wwjesse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235306562220962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I ain't got time to bleed."</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then we've got Blain. You thought Arnold was a one-liner wrecking crew, well you've obviously never seen Jesse Ventura in an action film. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Jesse Ventura, the first of the film's leads to become a governor. Former wrestler, and all around bad ass. Dude didn't have much hair, but he had a 'tache that all 14 year old boys aspire to. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">His character Blain gets a hole blown into him by the Predator about the size of David Bowie's crotch, but that still doesn't make him any less a man. He chews tobacco with a boyish glee. He spews anti-gay slurs. He doesn't have time to bleed.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Oh, and did I mention he carries a mini-gun named "Ol' Painless"? Next.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxiXsZl1O4DjJJMhCSa669-CkkYvDAcR5XI0x8TSHGz_R9itwaC-OP4c4qKWhojMQmnqB8YkQj3jsxatUsF-6HKQGPeJk0dtSENaNfxKWc6ToCExiJAYflzceaVk6_uTCGOxE-PNMkATSd/s1600-h/sonny-1.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 182px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxiXsZl1O4DjJJMhCSa669-CkkYvDAcR5XI0x8TSHGz_R9itwaC-OP4c4qKWhojMQmnqB8YkQj3jsxatUsF-6HKQGPeJk0dtSENaNfxKWc6ToCExiJAYflzceaVk6_uTCGOxE-PNMkATSd/s320/sonny-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235301934232610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"I wouldn't wish that on a broke-dick dog."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Billy. The Native American savant. Honestly, I'm not sure this film would have achieved such incredible feats if not for this character. You thought Mac was quiet... Billy is the king of quiet. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Billy was actually played by Sonny Landham, who went on to run for the governor of Tennessee. He lost, but perhaps what he was more famous for was his run as a porn star in the 70's. Yeah, I told you this film had porn stars in it, and I didn't lie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Billy pretty much does a lot of looking around in this movie, scoping out the spooks. But you know that everyone is pretty much f'd when this exchange goes down:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"I'm scared Poncho."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Bullshit. You ain't afraid of no man."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"There's something out there waiting for us, and it ain't no man. We're all going to die."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">At that moment, Alan Silvestre's amazing score blows us away.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And then we all just peed a little.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2XnS9USSu1dZZQ2uFhSDQDQ-ubwsXSCMbqoTfPTrD4UGqmdQtAExlnn3Gii4ZI0oGsFPLSuTDiohtXK3anpwwWaen4ZwrYkXgizUwlVBG_pX2RV-KsXB3PiJDlgBOW4hy10qcRaxWZCt/s1600-h/Predator2.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2XnS9USSu1dZZQ2uFhSDQDQ-ubwsXSCMbqoTfPTrD4UGqmdQtAExlnn3Gii4ZI0oGsFPLSuTDiohtXK3anpwwWaen4ZwrYkXgizUwlVBG_pX2RV-KsXB3PiJDlgBOW4hy10qcRaxWZCt/s320/Predator2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235299957410178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The gangs all here. Just pop in that DVD.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I honestly don't know how the film can get anymore perfect, and then everyone starts dying, and it you get to the point where you wonder when nirvana is just going to come for you and take you away from this illusion we all live in.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Perhaps one of the greatest scenes in the history of cinema, and certainly the best gun toting scene in cinematic history, takes place after Blaine gets porked.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Mac sees his fallen comrade and rushes to pick up the mini-gun just in time to see the Predator flash his eyes at him. In a hysterical rage, Mac starts to unload the gun into the jungle, and the rest of the crew bring their heavy metal into the fray as well. They unload everything they've got into the jungle, tearing it apart. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">miss</span>. Point, Predator.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What you are about to witness will make look upon your progeny who sit around your death bed... and smile.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vOddZhT1S1U&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vOddZhT1S1U&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">There then comes a point in the film where the mercenaries decide to take a stand against whatever it is that's chasing them. So they decide to build traps. Traps from the jungle.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yeah! These guys are so bad ass, that they can use Mother Earth to not only trap, but kill aliens. So this film goes beyond an action extravaganza, but into an environmentalist's wet dream. Think about... Mother figgin' Earth is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">battling</span> an extraterrestrial to the death!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Somebody call Al Gore and tell him I've got some popcorn, the lights turned off, and Predator on the tube in blu-ray. But if he brings Bono, tell him the parties </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">over</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTFmnLbzzr-c-0Guucw3vZ6R1Le2V9AYeLtFJ8f69YquICXAVGVuuqMFvxNHvxjGEGENghVeRFIOObnH6bvbtQZAx_JjjqxH1FGh5fHA9Rv77OvnKohc-dA592fhzJDuOpf81mokt-2yw/s1600-h/336_5.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTFmnLbzzr-c-0Guucw3vZ6R1Le2V9AYeLtFJ8f69YquICXAVGVuuqMFvxNHvxjGEGENghVeRFIOObnH6bvbtQZAx_JjjqxH1FGh5fHA9Rv77OvnKohc-dA592fhzJDuOpf81mokt-2yw/s320/336_5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235065856762306" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Ahhhhhhh</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">hhhhhh</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;">hhhhhh<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">hhhhhhhh</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">hhhh!</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Of course, Mother Earth doesn't last long, because the traps turn out to be kind of crap. Which really pisses off the alien, and everyone is jail bait.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Dillon (Carl Weathers) and Mac go chasing after him. Mistake.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Mac falls for the oldest trick in the book, and ends up with a hole in his skull. Which is naturally beamed to us in real grizzly detail with a fantastic over the shoulder shot. Screen goes red, Mac is dead.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then Dillon, who's been a bit of a pain in the ass the whole film, wises up and decides to go mano-e-mano with the alien. Mistake #2. Dillon ends up getting his arm shot off, and then everything goes into slo-mo as he tries to reach his gun but can't get it off in time as the alien porks him with his three bladed fist.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Dillon's screams can be heard throughout the whole jungle. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Arnold looks scared, and starts to run.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdOOVvNOweZXI0ZWMT-rZCB8S_XIOaOvtiaelWJAWz-FbXh0iT-HRf1akFkMUf2YpHOOlsnxYEJJva6YpPMuAQVyTzULOdKnpl2p1J42Z-25o3psm_TDG3VhrYXQRzgNHM58i7gX7TWVI/s1600-h/336_1.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></a></div><img style="text-align: justify;text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdOOVvNOweZXI0ZWMT-rZCB8S_XIOaOvtiaelWJAWz-FbXh0iT-HRf1akFkMUf2YpHOOlsnxYEJJva6YpPMuAQVyTzULOdKnpl2p1J42Z-25o3psm_TDG3VhrYXQRzgNHM58i7gX7TWVI/s320/336_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235058655367762" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Git to da choppa!"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Eventually, the alien catches up to the crew, but the noble Indian, Billy, decides it's his turn to die.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This leads to a truly epic confrontation on a giant log. Yeah, you heard me right. A giant log over a big gaping river. Billy rips off his shirt. He drops his guns. He pulls out a giant machete. Tears the medicine bag off his neck, and holds it tight.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then he cuts a giant gash on his chest with the machete, holds it up, and stares like a wild man into the jungle.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Does Billy win? Hell no!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Billy gets his head stuck on a trophy pike too.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This is what I'm talking about. Beethoven would have pulled off the throttle. Mozart would have gotten silly. Not in 1987. Heroes die. Especially the minorities.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8u3m0EsJnP0woL9QfCCQZNZ7rQ9cXcqbn2NiNFMOsOKsL3O9FWz_LlCVA9ZNEwscI-BlC8iktoJMiZcHJnYw-CKBn7GkwzOqy_ZmE5ll-gUGYZA241wV4ubvdNqTda7_z2nWISVK68OEM/s1600-h/predator_l.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8u3m0EsJnP0woL9QfCCQZNZ7rQ9cXcqbn2NiNFMOsOKsL3O9FWz_LlCVA9ZNEwscI-BlC8iktoJMiZcHJnYw-CKBn7GkwzOqy_ZmE5ll-gUGYZA241wV4ubvdNqTda7_z2nWISVK68OEM/s320/predator_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309235056701222242" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Do it now! Kill me!"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Finally, when everybody is dead, Arnold has his showdown with the Predator. Yes, he's no longer an alien, since it's quite clear to us all that the alien is the namesake of the title. <br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Having some time to prep for battle, Arnold gets all Boy Scout of America on us over the span of about three hours. During this span, Arnie (Dutch btw), creates an inventory of I kid you nots. They include the following:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Two explosive arrows made from leaves. A bow made from branches. A couple of spears made from rocks and branches. A giant tree trunk used as a booby trap. Knives made of sharpened sticks. His bare hands. Camo made from mud. Torches. Bonfires. Agility.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What's the Predator up to? Oh, you know he's already tricked out, so he's just polishing his trophy skulls. Skulls that he got by <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ripping</span> out the friggin' <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">spines</span> of his kills with his bare freaking <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">claws</span>!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now, I won't dare spoil the showdown for you. This is something you'll have to experience yourself.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Only then, will the symphony be complete, and you too will be transported into the nexus of awesome. Nor will you be able to argue with about the film which put a governor into Minnesota, California, and very nearly Tennessee. That's pedigree. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Predator. A masterpiece. A triumph. A metaphor.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A symphony of Bad Ass.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ovi-djkUgd0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ovi-djkUgd0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Fun Fact: My father actually was in Mexico, where Predator was filmed, while the film was being made. While staying at the same hotel as the cast and crew, my dad ended up playing Carl Weathers in tennis. My dad kicked Carl Weathers' ass. Despite this, they had a long chat, and Carl Weathers said the following about the film, "This is a good one." </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Too true, Carl. Too true. </span></div></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-49065676627222363002009-02-27T01:33:00.009-07:002009-03-04T00:25:53.173-07:00Pimping Your Friends<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G-vF3J9-2mRgMgdT2yCh7JwP9EOUoSPWOwvQEZkclJoXXuJu-XEJIO8vWj5z7cxASpTeJBMC1xK-H4MbpCGMp_PcsKJlkjMY9MmuMvmmW9Kpu0BhX4fPY8E8yj8EAA9xnbZaOIRsRJO5/s1600-h/coney_3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G-vF3J9-2mRgMgdT2yCh7JwP9EOUoSPWOwvQEZkclJoXXuJu-XEJIO8vWj5z7cxASpTeJBMC1xK-H4MbpCGMp_PcsKJlkjMY9MmuMvmmW9Kpu0BhX4fPY8E8yj8EAA9xnbZaOIRsRJO5/s320/coney_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307393067244101698" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I'm alerting all of you today to the fantastic talents of my dear, good friend Buddy. Aka Zachary Taylor: Photographer. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I'm pimping his extraordinary talents to make some of you aware of his keen eye, and wickedly insightful touch. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The above image of the Cyclone at Coney Island is something I strongly feel to be iconic. Knowing my great love for this image, Zack, like the dirty man slave he is, made me a print for my birthday that I absolutely love. Truly, one of the best birthday gifts I've received in recent memory. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The composition of the photograph is so full of wisdom, you literally have to be a surf nazi not to love it. The use of negative space in relation to the action we're seeing on the roller coaster itself is an exercise in restraint. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">To my friend, I salute you. Now go grab some strange ass and visit www.zack-taylor.com<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Finally, you may have all noticed that I've been a bit more mushy lately. I vow to you all this will change. I just got to roll out the series' yo!</span><br /></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-46546780023708243082009-02-26T02:26:00.013-07:002009-03-04T00:28:17.311-07:00Mix Tape V 1.0<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qWvOHT0zfXY&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9B-h1EEsKDA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9B-h1EEsKDA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wNf9rEPoc8Q&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wNf9rEPoc8Q&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p79JKclG-oc&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p79JKclG-oc&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:9px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YYGe_9DWyus&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YYGe_9DWyus&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0DighXLx1-s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0DighXLx1-s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:9px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cuB255cSIEg&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cuB255cSIEg&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:9px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:12px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FloVPJyEjQw&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FloVPJyEjQw&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:9px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L9LUX7WTpvE&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L9LUX7WTpvE&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6hMNKgyGUeY&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6hMNKgyGUeY&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AO9dbmJ_2zU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AO9dbmJ_2zU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-81069578988558793312009-02-17T23:56:00.012-07:002009-02-20T16:20:21.431-07:00Intervention Volume 1: Clayton Gerstner<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4N4P0AkyTaS14mDTQ7nSiZaDHVOTl390IJih4NK2is5IEvNzmAsFtwcchwma_xwoDN7_v33iy3FQr4vIHayyAu8IIrGIaaFHaJagj6ody0t53nAu37hNtG3gktXeTccFkPHMNqcPHtY4/s1600-h/ashandclay.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4N4P0AkyTaS14mDTQ7nSiZaDHVOTl390IJih4NK2is5IEvNzmAsFtwcchwma_xwoDN7_v33iy3FQr4vIHayyAu8IIrGIaaFHaJagj6ody0t53nAu37hNtG3gktXeTccFkPHMNqcPHtY4/s320/ashandclay.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304031966980930210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clayton Gerstner (right). Getting phantom punched by the wind</span>.</span></span></span></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The Offender: Clayton Gerstner</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The Crime: Currently refuses to join Facebook</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Verdict: Guilty</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Buddy.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">(shaking head)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So you refuse to join Facebook. At first, it was cute. You said that you just couldn't be bothered to get involved with the whole "social networking scene" and that it was all just a "waste of time".</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Well you know what, Buddy. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You're </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">a waste of time.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">How else am I and your closest friends supposed to spy on your every happening? How else am I going to monitor your every move? Look, all your friends see you have a problem. Zack. Brenda. Your wife. The dog. Steve Perry. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I happen to enjoy stalking people's most intimate of intimates. So do your friends. Quite frankly, we all want to see a bit more of the guy they called "The Luchador" back in high school. We miss that guy. The Luchador would have been all over the internet, and would have probably appeared on Fail Blog multiple times by now. The Luchador dressed like Robin to a high school soccer game. Where is the evidence of this? Nowhere. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm just tired of seeing you cut yourself. Because it's not just hurting you. It's hurting </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">us</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Don't you see that, good Buddy?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Pretty soon, what started out as a simple fraternizing turned into a habit. A habit you insisted you could control. "I'll join as soon as I get the courage." "I don't know, seems kinda gay." "John, if I was also a mentally depraved monkey, like yourself, I would join." That's what you told us. But that habit got worse. I've watched you spiral down, and pretty soon, you're not going to have any friends keeping tabs on you, nor will you have any to keep tabs on. It saddens me. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm currently sitting pretty on 296 friends. That's a lot of love and joy to pass along. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">How many do you have? 0. Let me spell this out: Z-E-R-O. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Zero isn't lonely. It's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">nothing</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">! Wrap your noggin' on that. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As your friend, I just want to see you stop abusing yourself. It's gone on for far too long now. I can't take the emotional pain anymore. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> can't take it anymore. There's a whole world of apps, friend requests, groups, article links, and oh so much more to discover. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It's okay, Buddy. You can put away the pride, and join us. We're your safety net, and we'll catch you if you ever fall. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I love you,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Buddy </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">UPDATE: Clayton Gerstner has officially joined Facebook. Intervention works. </span></div></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-37625115181639085562009-02-10T03:09:00.016-07:002009-02-10T03:58:03.385-07:00OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptjxnJVNkeLlS8rRIWeiJ7MiA6r9M5vjCJM2NW20NxeBkTmgVzLfdZyBELg9vLA98iV87PxZVcBLwbryu-k9SKXtZdTvHV1IHBiBI9eMKGN_CvJFd2L-Z-hTHZyM18xbEmyOjCKaaZXvq/s1600-h/167__scaled_600.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptjxnJVNkeLlS8rRIWeiJ7MiA6r9M5vjCJM2NW20NxeBkTmgVzLfdZyBELg9vLA98iV87PxZVcBLwbryu-k9SKXtZdTvHV1IHBiBI9eMKGN_CvJFd2L-Z-hTHZyM18xbEmyOjCKaaZXvq/s320/167__scaled_600.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301115206344577218" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I tried to think."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am reporting on what is quite possibly the most geektastic, most splurge worthy, most earth shattering revelation of 2009.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. They're making new Ghostbusters toys. Even of the cartoon! I must have done something right recently, because the Gods have favored my very existence and have seen fit to endow me with this great honor. When I am on my death bed, I will report to my progeny, "I was there for the day they revealed unto the world anew fresh, exciting Ghostbuster toys. It was glorious." With those words, I will smile, close my eyes, and die happy.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm literally having a Geek-gasm right now. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My love for Ghostbusters goes all the way to the beginning. I fell in love with it at 3. I remember this, I know this, it is a part of my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">being</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">. I watched the film so many times, I think my VCR vomited onto the cassette. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I watched 'Slimer and the Real Ghostbusters' religiously. Every Saturday morning. I can't even remember the channel, but I still remember the music, the story lines, everything about that show. I collected the toys. I had the Ecto-1. The Ghostbusters house. Various, and quite honestly ridiculous variations, incarnations of the crew.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I remember the first time I learned about a Ghostbusters sequel. I was running my ass off to go see a movie down in H-town with the old man, and I saw the teaser poster on the wall outside our theater. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I freaked, and my dad was not nearly, but almost as excited.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eh0rQuRvaIMZnnCzIDBGv8NbUirXHmpXYyyulNvyCNDDRhz3n85qVKKkr88SZseYSTjw2EdUsUQW2dxtvfYi7CMhiJOyDBUn-I0g465pIpHaQ6lDx3n0BkbSaWBYawHyv9eL1relR4vn/s320/ghostbusters_2_1989.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301115092228873474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Vie are you dripping vit goo?"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I remember when it came out Christmas, 1989. It was a glorious Christmas. I woke up and found that I had been gifted with a Sega Master System (which is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">still</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> better than the NES). I dragged it into my parents room, and then into the bathroom. My dad was on his throne, reading the Houston Chronicle. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And what was he reading? The Ghostbusters 2 review. Cha! For reals. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I went to go see the film several times. My aunt had picked me up a Ghostbusters jumpsuit, which I wore to the screenings, with my own homemade proton pack (it was a Mickey Mouse backpack), and black gloves. I was bitchin' for a 7 year old.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The Sega Master System produced what was quite possibly the best incarnation of a Ghostbusters video game to date. I played the game mercilessly. Turns out, I also had a running war going on with the UPS guy who would deliver goods to my mother's business. He also happened to own the game, and we were always comparing notes and seeing who had the bigger dick at the table. After all, boys will be boys.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The first time I got past the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, oh man... I just started getting nervous. I called in everyone into the house to watch me revel in triumph. I did not... the damn stairs kept booby trapping me with ghosts. It was so intense! How many floors did it go up?! What is that green ghost?! It's not Slimer?! Ghosts throwing dishes?! I quit life!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Eventually, I got to the top floor to do battle with Gozar the Gozarian. Again, the family was called into order to watch me finally be triumphant. Again, I failed. I honestly </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">still </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">remember the feeling I had when I played it. The best kind of butterflies, all over my body, creating a translucent sense of euphoria. I literally floated. My heart pounded.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Ironically, I don't remember the first time I beat the game. But I did. I went on to beat the Genesis version of the game. I beat Ghostbusters 2 on the NES. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But as I aged, while my love for the Ghostbusters never died, my mother saw fit to give away my toys. To poor Mexicans. Sure, it was for a good cause and all, but still. :(</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yet I never gave up. I dressed as a Ghostbuster for Halloween '07. Whilst in New York that summer, I even found the old Ghostbuster house they used for filming. Destiny has always smiled upon me. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2skN7c2QFMutFhfbIltmD8FLTGJGx8nUO5c_SqlqwAFwimMiqfD_X01-Uf-9AdPA_6vzoO-Aae4pTQDwM-hbQ7aEh9M0fTypSfyPzXc7S5vepGJh3EttFkaJxpN8AI0_iolmMIsMgvlD/s320/l_702d305d729e0101d788ff25ff899df5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301118819518450002" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"That's right boys. It's Dr. Venkman!"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So that's right, baby. I never gave up the dream. I embraced nostalgia, and she pulled me into her bosom, where I suckled some more! My reward has come. Rejoice with me my fellow comrades. The 80's will never die, but only if you believe it won't!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A3dsh8wDkjY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A3dsh8wDkjY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Best. Game. Ever.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Fun Fact: On my imdb profile, the trivia section lists this film as one of my two all-time favorite movies. </span></div></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-43189912013159142232009-02-08T00:31:00.007-07:002009-02-08T16:05:41.002-07:00Old People Don't Smell. It's Actually Experience.<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJUF8jXX_A-t-fLYlUvZBf5_fIyGq-9bHcveUS-gxTf0zTbqnbEuJ0jHdtqhKsbp8x6vzBRUjJP4CDmneUV2f_QXV2Do8j19IuzQgImBk3xCcDsClzK4NIaUStzGcrxd1MuvKO001yLn6/s1600-h/6434373_6620ef4be6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJUF8jXX_A-t-fLYlUvZBf5_fIyGq-9bHcveUS-gxTf0zTbqnbEuJ0jHdtqhKsbp8x6vzBRUjJP4CDmneUV2f_QXV2Do8j19IuzQgImBk3xCcDsClzK4NIaUStzGcrxd1MuvKO001yLn6/s320/6434373_6620ef4be6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300331602304317970" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">We've got it all wrong. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Old folks. They don't smell. No. That musty smell of death that hovers around their decaying bodies? Contrary to popular belief, it's not rotting flesh. Nor is it uncontrollable bowel movements. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My friends, that unassuming aroma that comes from our forefathers is something we all can look forward to one day. In fact, if we're lucky, we'll be smelling just as magnificent as they do when the time of our demise arrives.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What we're smelling, it's called </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">experience.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Think grandma got to smelling like a dog house by just sitting around watching Steelers games? Helllllll no! You know how gradma got that smell? She got it by rolling up her sleeves, and hitting the coal mines to do her part during the war effort. And while Gramps was out there putting a couple of rounds into his German neighbor, Gram Gram was getting busy in shaft 7 with the foreman that couldn't get into the army because he had small feet. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Does Gram Gram have to share that story with you? She certainly doesn't have to because her odor gives it away. Experience.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Next time your Great Uncle Chavez comes on over for Thanksgiving dinner, take a whif. That isn't some English Leather here's wearing. No, what that is your smelling is the time Uncle Chavez spent down in a Communist Prison in 1964 getting bitched up by Si Papi. Now you know why Uncle Chavez is always so friendly around the holidays. You thought it was just because he got lonely... well, that was only part of it. It's experience, and he wants to share it with you.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Grandpa Joe? Every time Granpa Joe asks for a hug, you cower away because ol' Granpa has the stale breath of a drunk fortune teller. Know why Joe's got that going on? It's because he's trying to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">hide </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">his experience. He knows that if you just get a scent of what's really going on, then you'd know that you are descended from a great line of men who were able to spend not just one night, but two straight days in the very best of the New Orleans brothels. Granpa Joe has seen </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">all</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> that the city could offer, and there isn't a hurricane in the world that's taking that away from him. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You're a 10th generation gang banger, kid. Reclaim that throne with pride. It's your shot at the title.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Aunt Doris? Oh geesh. Aunt Doris is the originator of the Cleveland Steamer.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Cousin Ricky? Dude, he was the reason they started having sex offenders introduce themselves to their new neighborhoods of residence.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Your elderly neighbor down the street? He dropped the bomb!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The point is this: Old people. They're getting a bad rap. They don't smell at all. All your smelling is the aroma of pride, glory, and triumph. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So next time you think about shrugging off the attentions of your closest elderly loved one, just remember that that scent is actually there to teach you a lesson. You just have to be willing to listen, and take into your heart... experience. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This message was brought to you by the good people of Eternal Living: We Keep the Dead Alive.</span></span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9149427784672759630.post-4118930377776733892009-02-02T00:57:00.018-07:002009-02-03T00:34:22.110-07:00Risk: An Obsession<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkIECVpL9AVVz0J4rRdl2oFHPrfDOMTFuKTI_zF8Qq5dwhCSZlXEPDnIc12iqXoHZNNS2jPnudcE_WytEwNAfCKnNeA4gvRD_9kNc8DZrzpODS7K_XPoX43H7JZ99zWVIkA_r_Rsnc2lT/s1600-h/box.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkIECVpL9AVVz0J4rRdl2oFHPrfDOMTFuKTI_zF8Qq5dwhCSZlXEPDnIc12iqXoHZNNS2jPnudcE_WytEwNAfCKnNeA4gvRD_9kNc8DZrzpODS7K_XPoX43H7JZ99zWVIkA_r_Rsnc2lT/s320/box.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298122255953399650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I love Risk. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I began playing Risk at the comely age of ten, back in H-town. My father and uncle introduced me to it. Why would grown men introduce a simple child to play such a complex game, perhaps <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">the </span>most complex of board games? Probably so they could have fun kicking my ass.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, it is true. Those early years were lean. Victory was rare, and it often only came in an alliance. A deal made by the devils, amongst the sweetest of angels. Sadly, I was too often the pawn in my pears epic struggle to destroy one another. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The game of Risk goes back many a year in my family's history. My father and uncle began hating each other since as early as 1962. They still recall, in near perfect recall, how my dad once charged into my uncle with a 20 man army, who in turn only had a 1 man army. Somehow, through some twisted miracle (or shall we call it fate?), my uncle held off the entire army with that one man army and proceeded to stage the inevitable comeback.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">You probably wonder if I was the only one invited to this struggle on par with that of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">King Lear</span>. I was not. My sister, Sarah, was also invited to this blood bath. Traditionally, my uncle would take blue, my father yellow, my sister red, and I green. It was the will of things.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As time progressed, so too did my power and knowledge. So too did my corruption. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In fact, my mother would always shout from the other room, "Stop playing that evil game! It stirs evil in this house!" She was properly ignored. Yet, maybe she had a point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hmm...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After being the whipping boy for a couple of years, and the pawn of the old men's struggle for superiority and acceptance, I started to branch out on my own. I would manipulate the alliances to favor myself. I would win by taking <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Africa</span>! Do you know how hard it is to win this friggin' game by strategically holding onto <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Africa</span>?! (Editors Note: If you have Toto's Africa, play it now.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For whatever reason, all alliances were born with a handshake. Like that was some badge of honor! Cha Right! Here's how alliances would be formed. A scenario:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">FADE IN:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A table is illuminated by a large over-hanging light. Two men sit opposite each other, RICHARD and RON. To each of their sides, sit two children, JONATHAN and SARAH. They are surrounded by a warm ambiance of light, which glows with a dull warmth over the center of the table. Darkness surrounds the outskirts of each them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As we glean closer, we see they are all hovered around a board. Richard CHORTLES in his throat, and looks down. We look with him to discover that they are all in the middle of a game of Risk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RON</div><div style="text-align: center;">Don't do it Richard. You're making a big mistake. If you do it</div><div style="text-align: center;">your armies will be vanquished, your women slaughtered, and I</div><div style="text-align: center;">will emerge the victor!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">JONATHAN</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do it dad! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RICHARD</div><div style="text-align: center;">Shhh! I'm thinking.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Richard's fist hovers over the plots of land labeled on the board as "Western Australia". The hand lingers, and the drops a pile of armies onto the area.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>RON<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Damn. Damn! You fool. Well, you've done it now. I have to conquer</div><div style="text-align: center;">your pitiful armies, until the cower in fear from my mighty fist.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sarah leans over the table. She looks over at her father, Richard. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ron looks at his nephew, Jonathan. Everyone but Richard SIGHS. The sound is so deep, it nearly bakes the room.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ron looks back at the table and takes a longer look. It lingers thick.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RON</div><div style="text-align: center;">That's it! Alliance. It's the only way to win.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RICHARD</div><div style="text-align: center;">You don't need to do that Ron.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RON</div><div style="text-align: center;">Silence. We must to win! I'm going to beat you. Yes. I'm going to beat you.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ron turns to Jonathan and thrusts out his hand in defiance of his younger brother. Jonathan is reluctant. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">JONATHAN</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I can win if I just take these two countries...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RON</div><div style="text-align: center;">No. You'll be defeated. It's foolishness. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RICHARD</div><div style="text-align: center;">You better do it, Jonathan.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">With his father supporting his own brother, Jonathan makes the decision and puts his hand into the sweaty palm of his uncles.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">RICHARD</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sarah?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sarah and Richard nod knowingly, and another alliance is born.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The scene saturates as the heat as been turned up another notch.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">FADE OUT</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A crucial note. Alliances were always, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">always, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">formed as follows: Uncle Ron + Me. Dad + Sarah. There was never an exception to this. How this actually came about, I don't really know. It is a tradition lost to history. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Any way. We would play nearly every Sunday night, until eventually I would get good enough where I was starting to win the game most times. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">On my own.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Eventually, the game started to lose its flavor when my uncle and dad would just pile their armies into crusades of hate and try to wipe the other out as quickly as possible. Sadly, this killed the fun of what had become a fantastic tradition until the inevitable occurred: The tradition ended. :(</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Oh, we still play Risk from time to time. The passion to extinguish each other's existence on a map designed strictly for global domination and superiority still burns. Yet gone is the desire to make it a commonality. Which is a shame, really.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As my record goes? Who knows! I do know I am 5-1 in my last 6 games. Games that span over the past 8 years. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The board game has become a dying art form, replaced by another love of yours and mine, video games. In fact, you can find all your favorite board games online now. That calls for another :(</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Risk. I love you. Always and forever. I won't leave you and forget you like my fathers did. My children shall remember, revere, and know you as I have known you. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">P.S. Australia is the key to the world, dude. Remember that, and you too shall prevail. You were gifted this knowledge because you read this whole posting. Thank me now.</span></div>JohnnyMartinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14975727301633085149noreply@blogger.com1