The weight scale in the bathroom of my mother’s house is, I’ve decided, completely evil.
I’m not one to really watch my #’s, but I have a mild curiosity about it whenever I stop by.
The thing is, her scale lies. It flat-out lies. It might be trying to make you feel better, but at first step, it electronically informs you that you weigh X pounds. Then when you step on it the second time, immediately following that initial reading, the red LED’s read X+4. So in reality, you weigh Y, so X equals Y-4. (I need a shirt that says “I Love Algebra” to go along with my “I Love Puns” shirt that I want.)
That being said, in honor of Halloween, let this war of Evil Weight Scales commence!
Courtesy of the Onion News Network comes this gem. What I like best is the part where they’re mean to the kids…
In My Brain While Sleeping… A Costume I Never Would Have Thought Of While Awake
Blah blah blah subconscious something something weird dream… I met a man wearing this costume and when I inquired about it, he pulled granite from his pocket, placed it on the last stair and said:
"I'm Rock Bottom."
Drunken Recollection… Two Gorillas Are Better Than One
My cousin Steve and I have matching costumes. We debuted them last week at my brother’s party. It was a blast. The next day, I had another party to attend, but I opted to go as Hipster Jesus. Another gorilla was there, and my heart broke a little…
Musical Musings… How Do You Kill The Gill Man?
Is this a good song? No. But does the Monster Mash really deserve being the only Halloween song? (Not counting Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, of course.)
Coinkydink Or Coinkydonk? Did PB Max Get “Discontinued” For Peanut Butter Twix?
PB Max... PB Twix... hmm...
I loved PB Max almost instantly when it was released in 1990. It was the companion candy to the caramel Twix bars I’d eat everyday. (There was a 5¢ mail-in rebate deal on each wrapper, so I binged one summer, sent them all in, and received a $5 check 6-8 weeks later. You can do the math.)
Anysweettooth, seemingly as quickly as the candy burst on the scene, by th mid-90’s, it was gone. A couple more years passed and all-of-the-sudden there was a Peanut Butter Twix bar (and the original became Caramel Twix with a capital-C, as you candyC see).
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…)
Gather ’round, gather ’round, kiddies… it’s time for another one of Uncle Sean’s drunk stories… this one is about a Halloween party where I learned a hard life lesson…
I consider myself a cardboard specialist. Sort of a masterboarder, if you will. Two examples:
Get it? Duck-Duck-Goose! Ah, go duck yourself.
I ain't afraid of no--OMG! Is that orb a ghost?!
Your Aunt Tammie and Uncle Will wanted something simple, cheap, and quick a few Halloween’s back. She came up with the concept; I came up with the design.
A Halloween or two prior to that, I studied my “Ghostbusters” accessories, and mocked up a poor man’s version (a.k.a. child’s version) of their Proton Pack to go along with my tan jumpsuit and patches.
My talent first revealed itself to me a Halloween or two prior to that one. (There was one party in the middle where I grew out my beard and hair and went as Tom Hanks in “Cast Away.” I was going to follow-up as Robert Duvall in “THX 1138” the next year by shaving my head, but I went on vacation instead. As if you cared.)
The event that birthed my boardery occurred at a private gathering in the basement of a hall. Upstairs, a wedding reception was held, and upon walking through the front doors of the hall, the groom exclaimed, “Optimus Prime!”
Michael Bay, eat your heart out.
He didn’t yell to Uncle Jay, “Starscream!” He yelled the character I was playing. (Although he did also shout “Dogma!” when he saw Uncle Chris dressed as Matt Damon in the film – he was a wingless angel in armor. Nerd!)
Later in the night, prior to the police arriving to break up the Halloweed festivities, a group of us would eventually make our way back up to the reception to seek out more alcohol. There’s video somewhere out there of Optimus Prime and Starscream dancing with the bride and bridesmaids. But that’s not what this tale’s about.
Despite the fact that Jay and I won Best Couple (again, before that whole cop crackdown thing), there was a bitter Energon cube I was forced to swallow. While talking to a pair of G.I. Janes, my good old buddy was getting all the attention. I blew up. “I’m the leader of the Autobots,” I began. “Starscream doesn’t lead anything. In fact all he does is whine to Megatron. It’s his wingspan, isn’t it? It’s always about the wingspan. Don’t lie and tell me differently.”
Thank Cybertron the boys in blue cancelled the show.
MORAL OF THE STORY: No matter what you do, no matter how much you accomplish in life, girls always love the bad boys.
It first occurred to me in Pennsylvania. Punxsutawney, to be exact. Some family and friends went there two winters ago for the 30th birthday of my sister, Becky. (Sorry for letting the groundhog out of the bag…)
Her birthday falls on Groundhog Day, and the festivities at Gobbler’s Knob (um, yep, that’s it name) were surprisingly warm for it being so cold. The people were nice at the Walmart we parked at and on the bus. The grounds were cleared of fresh snow and already covered in hay which prevented soaking wet feet.
I don’t get up at 5am for much of anything other than a flight, but I’m glad we awakened on time in order to witness this:
Catch a sparkler on your tongue!
A fireworks display in the morning snow.
Normally, I’m not a big fan of the big booms on the Fourth (the mini-booms at my uncle’s house are a blast), but when they’re unexpected, they can be beautiful. A similar feeling snuck up on me last night on Veteran’s Day. I stayed at work a little later to avoid traffic… and read blogs. Sometimes my wireless Internet doesn’t work at home because my neighbor turns it off, or starts fiddling with it somehow – asshole (j/k if you read this, which you probably don’t, so j/k).
On the freeway, I passed a mall presenting a full-fledged spectacular, grand finale and all (I stopped at a Best Buy – what’s wrong with me?) I couldn’t stop smiling. The music on the radio even seemed to mesh with the flashing and flaring chemicals (seriously, what’s wrong with me?) It was… unexpected.
This made me realize that surprises are what it’s all about. Like hearing Christmas music on the radio the day after Halloween. It happens every year, but I forget that it’s going to happen and I actually enjoy it. (Although I do grow sick of it well before Thanksgiving, and I feel sick for admitting this all – damn happy music.)
Or it’s just like going to a party where you don’t expect to meet anyone of interest (whichever path of interest you choose), and you gain an insight or catch an STD. Regardless, it’s still a fun surprise!
In closing, it’s the same way with nudity. If I go to the strip club, I’m paying for the fireworks and Christmas music. But in public… on a Tuesday… in the rain – huzzah! At a concert… when changing into another shirt – huzzah! Or through my apartment window, into yours, across the alley. Your lights are on. Mine are off. Huzzah…
If you’ve watched the last two episodes of “South Park,” you’re probably as baffled as I am. It almost felt like a dream state in its level of confusion, but it tiptoed toward the nightmare of the possibility that the show might be losing it again (I consider the movie the relaunch of creativity). Grant it – I did find aspects of the episode humorous, but as a whole, it left me unfulfilled.
From listening to Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s commentaries off past seasons’ DVD’s, and knowing that they shelf some ideas for later, I can only assume (<–that’s the devil’s word!) that it came out of this grab-bag of manatee balls:
There must be Peruvian flute bands all over California. (Possibly the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, since that’s what the artwork looked like to me.) Trey, Matt, and/or the remaining writing staff probably saw potential in these groups, and it was the germ for some kind of story.
That germ turned into a full blown virus when they found this website (again, a staff member might have already known about them – possibly owned some – but whatevs… the site is aww-inducing). This “bit” probably was the only highlight aside of Craig’s recounting to the other boys how much everyone else hates them.