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Drunken Recollection… Dressed To Kill (This Is A Funny Title… Trust Me)*

Posted on March 7, 2009 by sgottahurt

At night at the bar does not always provide teachings, but last night, I learned two things:

Sometimes, to get the girl, a guy’s gotta wear a zip-up fleece and corduroy khakis. I’m not a zip-up fleece and corduroy khaki kinda guy, so I would never get the pointy shoe and $100 blue jeans girl – not that I would want to. Introduce me to the girl in Target jeans and Keds anytime.
Is this not possibly one of the greatest movies of all time?!
I just ordered it on DVD, so I’ll be sure to let you know. Brian DePalma made this in 1974, a year before Sisters and two before Carrie. It played on a background TV out of earshot, behind the couple from Hell Hell Bean. I’m still not sure which display was more frightening.

*check out #18 on this list

Acting Chops Or Chopping Block?

Posted on March 6, 2009 by sgottahurt

As I mentioned in my last post, I recently decided to try out for a play.

The play: The Wizard of Oz.

The part: The Wizard.

The reason: my brother tried out and said they haven’t found the Wizard they were looking for yet (he auditioned for the Cowardly Lion and got the Tin Man), and he told me to give it a go.

The real reason: I wanted to say the play was all about me.

I am by not even by the slightest degree a thespian. My sibs, fam, friends, and I used to make all kinds of stupid skit videos (which I’ve planned on putting up on YouTube for awhile now… I’ll keep you posted), but I rarely made appearances in them. I let everyone else do all the bad-acting heavy lifting.

In college, when my sister Becky was an assistant director for I Hate Hamlet, I skipped out of French 3 early to audition for the role of the greasy agent. My reason at that time was that I looked like a greasy agent with my bushy goatee and a pony tail down to the middle of my back. Gross. (That’s the result of twelve years of Catholic education, I guess.) I never tried it before or since – the pony tail OR the acting.

So anywiz, back the recent attempt. I was 100% on the fence about whether I wanted to be in the play or not (or is that 50/50?). It would interrupt my drinking plans, but it would also have given me (hopefully) great blogging stories. (This one kind of sucks so far, so maybe it wouldn’t have. But then again, it is community theater.)

Here’s the rundown of the night’s highlights:

When I received the pages I was supposed to read right off the bat, I didn’t see the Wizard’s lines anywhere. “Who am I reading?” I asked someone else. Apparently, the Wizard’s real-life version is Professor Marvel.
I realized I should have watched the movie, since I’ve never seen it in its entirety. Oops!
I’m a competitive person when it comes to certain things, which is possibly everything, because I sure didn’t expect it to happen at an audition. I was out for blood against the other old, wizardy dude going for my part. Where are flying monkeys when you need them?
I learned you should try to act when you’re trying out for a part, instead of just reading lines. No one told me that.
They also had me try out for Dorothy’s uncle, Henry Gale. I didn’t really want the part, but I justified it because that was Ben Linus’ original alias on “Lost.” Nerd!
I discovered that improv kills. When I had my second shot at the Wizard, it was the part of the movie play that I knew. The line reading went something like: “I am the Great and Powerful Oz! Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?” The first time I read it, I thought the repetition was lame, so during my second attempt, I turned the third one into a quick, “Srsly, who r u?” Everyone lost it. I just hoped the old dude who was playing the Wizard as scary lost his chance (I opted for a booming voice).

I felt confident upon leaving, and then later realized I was planning on being in Seattle during the show’s opening weekend. They asked for conflicts prior to the auditions, but I was trying out on a lark so I hadn’t remembered. Luckily, I was only offered the role of the Oz Doorman, which I politely turned down (after thanking them for the shot). My brother was hoping I would have taken the part since that was his very first role in any play, but Seattle La Vie!

SIDENOTE: I probably would have cancelled the trip for Henry Gale.

Me trying out for the role of the agent in "I Hate Hamlet."

Giving Blood And Having A Blast! (Or A Least A Cookie)

Posted on March 5, 2009 by sgottahurt

I had a mini-adventure of sorts last week when I donated blood. Actually, it was boring as usual – I had to turn it into an adventure of sorts.

Upon arrival, I was greeted by a man in a wheelchair with his assistant, a Golden Retriever. I’m all for volunteers of all kinds and equal opportunity, but should a dog be where I’m about to give blood?

They make you read these pamphlets before you can sign in. I had just sa down when I stood with a question. The gentleman behind the counter asked if I had finished, when it was impossible for me to have read anything. Does this mean no one reads the pamphlet except me?

I arrived at the right time between rushes and was sent to the verification room (I guess that’s what it’s called). On the survey, they ask if you’ve been outside the country. Last August, I visited Europe. The nurse/tech asked where I had been. I answered England, France, and Belgium. She asked if there was anyplace else. I told her no. I had been to Amsterdam, and though I was a “good boy” while there, I didn’t want to raise any flags on my donation when I know it can be used. They check it anyway, don’t they?

When I arrived at the bench I would be resting for awhile, I overheard two of the nurse/techs talking about the clock which ran in military time.

Lady One: I can’t ever figure out the time when it’s like that.

Lady Two: Just remember that 13:00 is 1:00pm and count up from that.

These are the people about to stick a needle in me?

Speaking of needles stuck in me, as I was bleeding, I noticed a bubble near the top of the tube sticking out of my arm. Hello? Should an air pocket be that close to my vein? Can’t I die if it decides to move against the current like a salmon, and entire my body?

Guys will do anything to get laid.

Two things made me laugh while I stared out the window and bled.

1) There was a product by AeroMed called Magnum Plus. I thought they were latex gloves (turns out they’re nitrile), and therefore chuckle worthy.

: Um… I think I’m not going to touch this one.

2) They had St. Patrick’s Day decorations everywhere. The Red Cross takes after my own heart! (Literally!)

Afterward, I was pleased as punch that they had Chips Ahoy! cookies for me to snack on. The volunteer stocking the tables joined me and we discussed the 73 year old guy who played college basketball. She gave me another sticker to go along with the nametag the front counter guy gave me.

My blood type is B-negative, and my outlook on life might be negative, but for some weird reason that day – I had fun!

I wanna be like Ken Mink!

(SIDENOTE: Immediately prior donating my blood, I tried out for the role of the Wizard in a local theater version of “The Wizard of Oz.” Stay tuned, as I may write more on that later.)

Drunken Recollection… Bible Thumping, Veggie Trumping, And Movie Pumping

Posted on March 4, 2009 by sgottahurt

Some of the conversations the crew and I have had over brews lately make me feel like I should be running my sister’s sister-site, SomethingKnew. On her page, she goes over all the new things she learns every day – mine are things I learn over every beer.

Which Testament of the Bible has more books (at least according to what us Roamin’ Catholics were taught)? We honestly had no idea, but courtesy of the TripleDoubleU on my new iPhone, there are 46 books in the Old Testament vs. 27 books in the New Testament. The number I have heard of from both? Maybe 30 (I didn’t feel like counting). The number I have read? Zero.
Carotene is found in carrots. Carotene? Carrots! Is there bananatene in bananas? Does Ovaltine come from ovals (sorry about the Seinfeld rip)? Perhaps teenatene is what causes youngsters to turn emo (because it’s like the stuff in onions that makes you cry)? Okay, I’m done.
Teenatene was first discovered by German scientists.
What is the longest running film series? I didn’t want to include James Bond because I figured it was automatically the longest at 22 films. Research lead me to this: a lot people argue about this. Some consider the length to start from the first in the series; some count every incarnation. Many webheads reference different foreign film series that are unknown to me, so I’ve decided the second longest series is this:

Part 14 will be “roaring” into stores this year.

And the third longest is this:

Part 10 will be “pulling your strings” soon!

(Friday the 13th could be argued for hitting 12 films, but that series is dead to me.)

Happy Find… Mad Xzibs

Posted on March 3, 2009 by sgottahurt

This may give Fuck Yeah! Ryan Gosling! a run for the money, and kick Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift! to the curb (please don’t touch her… she’s an angel).

It’s called Mad Xzibs, and it goes a little something like this:

SUP DAWG, WE HEARD YOU LIKE(D) ______, SO WE _______ ______ IN THE _______ (SO YOU CAN ______ WHILE YOU _____).

I guess it’s been around for awhile, so much so that there’s a controversy over using “SUP DAWG” and “YO DAWG,” but I just found about it from an old Urlesque article, so here it is. These are two of a few that cracked me up. The Urlesque page is the better of the two since its condensed, but the Encyclopedia Dramatica article is not without its humor in explaining more of the history.

A few of my favorites:

Alvin Joiner & Xzibit

xzibit

xzibitannefrank

Oh, The Engines You’ll Search!

Posted on March 2, 2009 by sgottahurt

I don’t think I’m alone when I say that I’m really going to miss this Google doodle celebrating Theodor Geisel’s 105th birthday. Long live Dr. Seuss!

One Phish, Web 2.0 Phish, Red Vs. Blue Fish

One Phish, Web 2.0 Push, Red Vs. Blue Fish

In My Brain While Sleeping… Shoe Car Shoo!

Posted on March 2, 2009 by sgottahurt

My busy week has lead to restless nights. Last night was no exception. I could not get comfortable (until I was supposed to waking up, ‘natch), and any dream of computer work instantly brought me back to reality. I even scared myself in the mirror when I was up hitting snooze (in case you either forgot or didn’t know – I keep my alarm clock in my bathroom far away from my button-happy trigger fingers).

Aside from the IT nightmares, I kept having dreams about these:

Wonderful for convering unsightly cankles.

Wonderful for covering unsightly cankles.

Except they were giant-sized. And they had wheels. Because they were cars. Between every twist and turn in my pursuit for some decent rest included a dream about the return of the Shoe Cars.

Does it come with a shoe horn?

It was as if they had existed once before, like when the new Volkswagen Beetle was released. My uncles and I were kicking back beers on my grandma’s porch (who knows why this scenario), and talking about how you never see Shoe Cars anymore. Sure, you’d see this all the time (yeah, right):

Also available in the OsCar compact.

But the Shoe Car? As soon as we mentioned it, a new one, colored blue, passed right by. We clanked beer bottles, proud of witnessing the return, or for the sheer luck of catching sight of one. Throughout the rest of the night, that stupid Shoe Car wouldn’t stay away. I might have even seen one outside the window in one of my computer repair visions.

Undreamed of... until now.

Musical Musings… Happy Birthday “Voices That Care!”

Posted on March 1, 2009 by sgottahurt

Remember this?

Well, actually yesterday was the 18th birthday of the song Voices That Care, and it is quite the time capsule. Made originally to raise money for the Red Cross during Operation Desert Storm, it has now, well, let’s reflect on the highlights:

Gotta love the flag opening. Reminds me of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crap. Unfortunately.
Celine Dion was just a baby. I wonder if her creepy-old-manager/husband-to-be was tapping that yet. (Also, she has kind of that Amy Grant vibe going. Much better than the future Vegas chest thumping.)
Peter Cetera! Why isn’t he making music anymore? Am I the only one that wonders where he went? (Maybe he’s hanging out with Steve Perry.)
See Bobby Brown. See Bobby Brown sing. See Bobby Brown not get high and smack a ho.
Is that dude in the cowboy hat from Warrant? Yes. Yes, he is.
Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson’s singing voices mesh perfectly with Luther Vandross. (Actually, all the sports stars have wonderful pipes.)
Who’s singing with Garth Brooks – Amy Grant or Celine Dion? Was hair really that big back then?
BONUS: More Warrant! Nope. It’s just Nelson. Why is everyone wearing cowboy hats, yet Garth Brooks did not (a true rarity)?
Michael Bolton was pretty good in Office Space, doncha think?
Will Smith even got to rap. That tickles my soul. Isn’t it weird he got his start “rapping,” but now it seems weird to see him rap?
One good thing about the arrival of CGI – no more neon coloring on B&W footage (hopefully).
The Chorus. You gotta love the Chorus. I can’t even begin to dive into the Chorus. All I have to say is this: Michelle Pfeiffer AND Jon Lovitz. No? Fred Savage AND Meryl Streep? Not enough? Gary Busey AND Chevy Chase? Yes. That awesome.
Wait was Mike Tyson’s arm around Debbie Gibson? (She was my first concert – at the Sea World in Orlando.)

In my research, I stumbled on this must-see Where Are They Now video. Check it out.

InASense, Lost… No To Boobs, But Blood’s Okay?

Posted on February 28, 2009 by sgottahurt

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for awhile. When I recently went to the theater to see the wretched Friday the 13th remake/revision/re-fried beans, there was a father behind me with his 8-10 year old son. I had a major ass-id flashback when I overheard him telling his son, “Cover your eyes!” whenever nudity was shown.

“Cover your eyes!” The adage of the forbidden. The phrase my parents often demanded of me when renting schlocky horror and fantasy films (they were my dad’s favorite VHS tapes to rent) whenever there was any hint of an upcoming boobs, butts, or both.

In fact, at the showing of F13, there were a fair amount of kids. My favorite was a dumpy looking mother with her dumpy looking tween son that was wearing a Girls Gone Wild t-shirt.

What bothers me is that these parents don’t even stop to consider what these films do to their kids’ brains (if they have any, for that matter – the big dopes or their offspring).

At least the father behind me was sorta censoring his spawn’s input.

As an example of the warping that can occur, let me bring up a few things that warped my mind in the original series:

1) It made me scared of NYC. I haven’t been sure of the origin of my fear. This intro makes it look not-so-inviting:

2) It made me scared of loud random noises. In the middle of the night one time, I kept hearing this scary uggh type noise. I thought the devil was speaking through my TV or something. Ended up being a spider in the fire alarm, but whew! I flipped the fuck out. Now listen to the crap noise they call “music” that plays through the opening of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final (hah!) Friday: