Humor

JusWondering… Am I A Sinner? Kirk Cameron Must Think So

Posted on by sgottahurt

Not sure why this has sparked my sudden interest, but the bad-seed-with-a-heart-of-Tracey-gold, Mike Seaver, we all grew up with (well maybe not all) has evolved into the Evangelical Kirk Cameron.  This shouldn’t be news to anyone, but if you don’t believe me, click here.
While propagandizing teaching his beliefs, he’s made a few films that help convey his message.  His latest is a film called Fireproof.  The explanation, via IMDb:
Capt. Caleb Holt lives by the old firefighter’s adage: Never leave your partner behind. Inside burning buildings, it’s his natural instinct. In the cooling embers of his marriage, it’s another story.

After seven years of marriage, Caleb and Catherine Holt have drifted so far apart that they are ready to move on without each other. Yet as they prepare to enter divorce proceedings, Caleb’s dad asks his son to try an experiment: The Love Dare.

While hoping The Love Dare has nothing to do with his parents’ newfound faith, Caleb commits to the challenge. But can he attempt to love his wife while avoiding God’s love for him? Will he be able to demonstrate love over and over again to a person that’s no longer receptive to his love? Or is this just another marriage destined to go up in smoke?

All in all, it may not be your cup of tea when you’re a fan of a cup of T&A, but this video gathering the highlights of the film is… cringe worthy at best.  My favortite part is how instead of beating his wife, he destroys his computer.  I mean, who uses CRT monitors still anyway?  I guess it wouldn’t be as “dramatic” to smash a flat-panel monitor or toss a laptop.

This whole affair really got me wondering – am I a sinner for the things I watch on the internet?

Is it a sin to sing about masturbating in the future?

Is it a sin to watch people pretend to masterbathe masturbate?

Is it a sin to watch a Japanese alien wake up with morning wood?

Is it a sin to laugh at a Russian getting attacked by a dildo copter?

Is it a sin to research how the fairer sex can join in the fun of peeing while standing up (and writing their name in the snow)?

Well if I am… fuck it.  As the G.O.A.T., Billy Joel, once said:

I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
The Sinners are much more fun…

BONUS SINNING:

Musical Musings… Swift-ly Handing In My Man Card

Posted on by sgottahurt

My parents both grew up on Motown.  It’s not odd or unlikely, but it explains why they never got into any of the Woodstock (hippie) fare, or harder rock like the Stones, the Who, or the Doors.

So growing up, it was radio-friendly for me… Lionel Richie, Hall & Oates, Air Supply (my dad loved them), and the G.O.A.T. – Billy Joel.  I remember the disdain the ‘rents had for Huey Lewis and the News when the (awesome!) group released, “I Want a New Drug.”  They never censored me from it, but they let me know they “weren’t crazy about it.”

The reason I say all this: I’m a sap for sappy music.  I get lost in your eyes in pop drivel, and I can’t help it.  There’s a radio station here that used to play soft rock at night (complete with love song dedications and a nightly wish… you must click here to hear!) and I remember being a teen, driving home from my first job at a toy store, listening to Alan Almond’s Pillow Talk while it was snowing the biggest flakes you’ve ever seen.  (I may be the biggest flake ever seen, but I digress…)

This quote from John Cusack’s (well, technically Nick Hornby’s) High Fidelity sums up my worldview it a nutshell, possible emphasis on nuts or hell:

What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?

So why oh why am I bringing this up now?  Namely, due to this young lass:

Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift!

Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift!

 She has a new little ditty making the rounds on the airwaves, and as I listened to it I realized something.  Well, take a listen if you’re unfamiliar with her work:

What I’m slowly coming to terms with is, ugh… it’s a slow process.  This 19 year old country gal that writes her own songs DREAMS THE SAME DREAMS I DO*.  And that sucks, I guess.

So in other words… GRRRRR ULTIMATE FIGHTING!

*well maybe not the EXACT same dreams

Happy Find… I Like Ike

Posted on by sgottahurt

It’s a little late to be jumping on the bashing Dane Cook band wagon, and it’s a little late to be referencing Mad TV, but as they say… better late than pregnant! 

Wait, that’s not right…

Here’s Ike Barinholtz nailing him… not literally of course.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sucking Literally And Figuratively

Posted on by sgottahurt

Freud only knows why we dream about the things we do.  And maybe I shouldn’t have invoked Freudian psychoanalysis on this weird subconscious wish fulfillment?  (Gah, I hope not.)

Basically, there was a new product on the market for owners of Dyson vacuum cleaners.  If you felt your little sucker wasn’t original enough, you could purchase decal kits to spice yours up.  For example:

Because sure why not.

Because sure why not.

 Nonetheless, I don’t remember if I invented them or rushed out to purchase a Dyson Decal pack, but I dreamt about ’em.

________________________________________________________

There was another dream I had, and I know it was an enlightening one.  Basically, I sent an email to a blog, and the authors behind it emailed me back a response like this:

Dear Sean,

We will post your lazily written letter, but shame on your lazy writing.

Editors

The editors somehow got a hold of my cell phone number and they called to give me advice.  The advice they gave me was priceless, and I woke up between my snooze-a-thon fully recalling their nugget of insight.

Damn.  I can’t remember it anymore.

Drunken Recollection… Tron And Lil’ Wayne = Cheese And Whine

Posted on by sgottahurt

I’m no fashionista.  (I even felt uncomfortable writing that word.)  I don’t dress in the latest fashions (if Target or Kohl’s ever become haute couture, I’ll be set).  I don’t even wear a suit to formal affairs (I have my standard white dress shirt, random tie, black pants, and until someone called me out on wearing a certain vest to their wedding – a certain vest).

So please do not judge me as I judge another.  My sisters always said it’s 10% what you wear and 90% your attitude (I think they borrowed liberally from another saying), but there was this guy at the bar that made some choices, and then some additional choices on top of those, and… well, let me explain.

First off, he was in mid- to late-twenties, and he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt bearing what I call “a Tron pattern.”

(Not So) Artistic Representation

(Not So) Artistic Representation

Which on its own, I guess, would be fine and dandy (I shall never write that phrase again).  But he could have worn something akin to this, instead:

Boba Swett...shirt

Boba Swett...shirt

And he would have pulled off the look a bit better.  But he also could have actually gone to this extreme like this guy:

Does he Master Controller to Tron?

Does he Master Controller to Tron?

Yet I’m not done.  The sweatshirt was a few sizes too small, as it tapered and adhered to his arms.  A bad choice on its own, but forgivable if he opted NOT TO WEAR THE HOOD.  It was snug on his noggin, and seemed to pull up the shirt underneath as well.

So what? you might be thinking.  He can just put down the hood.  My response: then why doesn’t he pull up the back of his pants!  He had them purposely draped below his gray boxer briefed bum, as his leather belt held them firmly there.  My friend, Jess, thought he might not know, but I knew he knew.  It was another in a long line of bad choices.

The coup de grace for me was when my friend Devin was doing karaoke of Lil’ Wayne’s “A Milli” (which is a dumb song, btw, with some of the worst lyrics… check them out after the jump).  This too-small-Tron-hoodie-wearing, non-boxer-pants-sagging doofus jumped up to sing with him, and he couldn’t keep up!  He ruined it for Devin.  Oh well.  Like I said, who am I to judge… in my 90’s X-Men tee and skaterboi jeans with the cuffs rolled up.

(SIDE RANT: What’s the appeal of Lil’ Wayneanyway?  Is he big merely for the fact he may have been the first to integrate electronica with rap?  Why couldn’t he be a nice, clean cut guy like Chris Brown, and get cozy with a sweetheart like Rihanna?)

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Happy Find… Happy President’s Day!

Posted on by sgottahurt

First, some little known facts about our first president:

Thirty-fifth, some little known facts about our thirty-fifth president:

(via SuperDeluxe)

My Bloody Valentine’s Day Weekend (A Friday The 13th Review)

Posted on by sgottahurt

I’ve finally seen the new Friday the 13th movie, and though my hopes weren’t set that high (well, they were set at least hurdle length off the ground), it sort of disappointed.

The opening sequence showed promise.  It even included a dude singing this song while listening to his iPod.  It showed some of the mechanics of Jason Voorhees tactics, but from there, not much else surprised.  I wasn’t looking for them to reinvent the wheel… just tweak it a bit.

I love the original Dawn of the Dead, but the new one enhances its story.  The same goes for The Hills Have Eyes.  This one falls in with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake – they both could have been worse, but they could have been better.  (Haven’t seen either Halloween or My Bloody Valentine, so no comment.)

I thought Jason was too powerful and menacing without showing any origin for his alleged supernatural abilities.  In the earliest films (2-4), he was vulnerable and clumsy, and in effect made him scarier.  He could be defeated, but no one was doing it.  Starting with Part 6, he was brought back to life and became zombie-like, and that worked for most of the remaining films.  The best in the series is still Freddy Vs. Jason, because it follows all the rules of both series, with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

SPOILERS: What’s with the Tom Cruise lookalike’s unwarranted hostility in the film?  Also, when did Jason ever keep somebody locked up and alive (a problem slightly hinted at in Part 4)?  And how do you show a bug zapper twice and not use it to dispense anybody!  (At least I called the wood chipper…)

Hail, hail, the gangs all GAHHHHHH!

Hail, hail, the gangs all GAHHHHHH!

(via this dude’s site)

InASense, Lost… What Is It With Kids These Days

Posted on by sgottahurt

When I was just a wee lad back in the day (I’m prepping for St. Paddy’s), it was awful fun for the adults give kids a sip of beer and watch their reactions.  I’m the oldest boy of all the cousins on my father’s side, and for quite awhile I was the only boy (my brother broke the streak when I was nine… there were nine girls and me… ever notice how the more girls there are, the higher the octave of screeching goes?)

What I’m getting at is it wasn’t uncommon for my elders to make me the butt of the joke.  Some might have thought it would encourage drinking, but I never took a sip of alcohol (not counting my relatives’ pranks) until I turned 19 and could legally do so in Canada.  My other tendencies in alluded-to innocence: I was more interested in Nintendo than IN-tendo (if you catch my innuendo), smoking was a disgusting habit my parents had and I swore I would never have, and drugs… well, I’d stick only to any of the natural kind.

But nowadays, you have 13 year olds becoming fathers…

…parents pulling new tricks on their kids for laughs (and filming it and putting it on YouTube… “Thanks Dad… what are you, like, thirteen, or something?”)…

…or teaching their kids to be pretty good at smoking.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about “Everybody Freak Out About This Toddle…“, posted with vodpod

 

I guess you could always over indulge your child and baby them so they can become insulated and protected from the rest of the world (read: spoiled), that they never have to deal with R|E|A|L|I|T|Y.  Heaven forbid someone take their Cloudsong…

In My Brain While Waking Up… Sweet Jehovah! A Demon Dog Is In My Hallway!

Posted on by sgottahurt

I’m not sure exactly why I do this, but I think it had something to do with me staying up too late and not waking up for work to get money so I could stay out too late or something, but I keep my alarm clock in the bathroom.

Now the only reason I’m mentioning this is because this morning, on my stumbling walk from my bedroom to the bathroom to hit snooze (as per my snooze addiction – the only reason I set my alarm for a Saturday morning), my t-shirt scared the piss out of me.

As I bumped the doorway at an angle I usually don’t (I often bump walls and doorways because I don’t open my eyes much), I spotted the corner of my black tee from last night in the hallway and thought it was a Demon Dog from Ghostbusters.  Woke me up instantly.

37am between snoozes - yes.

At 9:37am between snoozes - yes.

Although it actually got my heart racing, I still hit the snooze bar on my alarm clock and laid back down, making sure to change the location and placement of the image-inducing cotton product.

What finally fully awakened me was my doorbell.  And the door knocking.  And the doorbell again.  Oh yeah, there it is – interior door knocking now.

It must have snowed last night, was my first thought, and the incessant attention seeking noise was my neighbor kid wanting to shovel the walk, because sure-as-shit, the area Jehovah’s just ain’t that persistent.  They politely knock, stick a pamphlet in the door handle, and move along, proselytizing.  And if it was anyone I knew, they would have called in tandem with the racket, and my cellular remained silent.  I checked out the window, and yup – two inches of snow on the ground.

Sure I could shovel it, I thought.  But it’s going to melt anyway.

Bonus Saturday morning cartoon:

Extra bonus weekday syndicated cartoon:

(via Worst Cartoons Ever)

Happy Find… I’m Ready For My St. Patrick’s Day Extravaganza

Posted on by sgottahurt

Oh glorious day!

Last night, between my basketball game and my soccer game (minimal blisters this time in case anyone worried), I stopped at a local bar chain called Bailey’s.  I arrived at 10:30pm and ordered myself a Guinness (the best beer to drink before playing soccer in case anyone wondered).

I found out that starting at 11pm, there was to be special pricing on the heavy brew (I pretend it’s a melted malt shake).  I also found out if you stood up and read a toast, you would get a long sleeve Guinness shirt, and this:

guinness-hat

Unfortunately, I was to be leaving at 11pm to for football, so my buddy, Rodney, opted to do to give the toast on behalf of me.

Little did he know, he would be the only one to volunteer and actually do it.  (Another guy stood up to join him, but said little to nothing.)  He had to get the entire bar’s attention and read the pre-written cheer.

When we returned, he gave me both the shirt and hat, and for that I’m eternally (or least until St. Patrick’s Day) grateful.

A toast to Rodney!  Sláinte!