NOTE: If you are easily offended by offensive things then please go somewhere else. I suggest pbskids.org or barbie.com, you wuss!


SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE TO LISTEN TO MY HILARIOUS AND WILDLY OFFENSIVE PODCAST!

Friday, June 30, 2006

Late Night Drama ...

... I had dreams, lurid ones, of getting laid tonight, of dominating my wife and licking her feet and worshipping her ass and all these other hideously dirty thoughts which to me come as easily as blinking or taking a breath. I thought my fuck chances were fairly high tonight.


Instead, it's a long late night of drama as Natasha acts as telephone mediator between a warring couples that is known so well for their warring nature that anyone who knows of them knows exactly which warring couple I'm talking about. It's THE warring couple, the alpha and omega of relationship drama, and it's impeding my chances at some poon tonight.


Listening to their arguments, listening to HER cry and yell, listening to HIM all angry and pissed off and altogether HIM, and listening to my Natasha stuck in the middle and trying so hard to help them out ... it just cements the fact that FUCK I have a great fucking life! Thank fucking GOD that I am happy and drama free and that the last time I had any major drama was on July 4th, 2004. Thank god and Wood and Buddah and Jesus and Manos and all them mofos who made me this happy, this in love, this excited to be a father, and I hope to god that I stay that way.


And BTW, this year's Fourth of July, which marks the two year of my last major drama, will be spent right. I will be at Gwen's house drinking canadian beer. Fuck yeah!

Memory Music: TMBG and Opening Night ...

... starting something new on my blog. I'm going to start focusing on songs from my past and what they mean to me. We'll hear some good music and some personal stories, most of them funny and only a few of them deeply depressing. Here we go.




They Might Be Giants: Birdhouse in your Soul

My senior year of high school, 1995, the last play that we did that semester was Once Upon a Mattress. It's a musical based on the Princess and the Pea. It was a strange musical but a really good cast and I got to spend a lot of time screwing around with my friends and making out with various chicks. It was fun. I remember Jamie Wedow convinced this one blonde chick to lift up her shirt and show him her bra for a quarter. He didn't have one, so he summoned me over and I gave her a quarter and we got a bit of a show. She showed her goods off to us for about ten or so seconds and then lowered her shirt, saying it would be another quarter to see more. Well, I always carry change so I pulled out over two dollars in quarters. She screamed like a B-movie queen and ran away. It was funny as hell.


It was the last play of the year and the last play a lot of us would do on that stage. Hell, it was the last play a lot of the people there would probably ever do. And right before the curtain we would all go into this room in the back, the vocal room, and we'd have some bullshit pep talk. But it was Jamie's idea to instead of hear the same bullshit talk, that we'd all listen to Birdhouse in Your Soul and dance and sing and jump around and just rock the fuck out. Which we did. Every night, right before going up there, we'd crank this song and just let go of every problem we had.


Now I'm almost thirty. I can't fucking believe that. I never thought that I'd live past the century, past age twenty-seven, or even past my thirties and now I'm almost there. I have a job I've held for almost six years now. I have a wife and two kids. Can you believe that? Two kids?!? And, to put a period on the end of all those sentences, I now have a minivan. It doesn't have a cd player, though, so while I was rummaging through old, dusty boxes for cassettes I found my old They Might Be Giants cassette, the one I bought at Zia's that I would listen to in my bedroom at my parent's house. I drive to work in the morning and every once and a while I'll put that cassette in and remember way back in the mid-nineties when I would pack into a shitty little music room and jump around and dance and sing and have no cares in the whole fucking world.

Books Left in Children's Section by Extremely Fat Woman (although one of them is made up) ...


... Thyroid for Dummies

Windows XP for Dummies

BlackBerry for Dummies

Anatomy and Physiology for Dummies

Drawing for Dummies

The Soup Bible

Boys that Bite

The Pigman

Walking the Da Vinci Code

The Devil Wears Prada

Depac Chopra's Karma Sutra

Sober for Good

Being a Fat Cunt for Dummies

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Nicknames of the Bums Who Frequent Our Bookstore ...


... Cat Pee lady

Demin guy

Angry Mekhi Phifer

Deaf lady

Deaf guy

Shaggy

Clipboard and Vest man

Crazy Asian guy

Stinky Blanket guy

The Makeout bums

Fat Black Guy with the Big Black Jacket

Prison Jesus guy with the Knife

Black Skitzo with the Stick that He Uses to Attack Cars

Monday, June 26, 2006

Snakes on a mutha-f$%&*#g Plane ...


... America is great at taking things at their face value and not worrying over things like meaning or worth. Just take the band The Darkness. While brits were in discussion over the band and whether or not they were a "joke" band or something to be taken seriously, we Americans were banging our rock fists in the air and just yelling THE DARKNESS ROCKS! We're good at not thinking, I guess is what I'm saying ...


(and while we're at it, here's a Darkness mp3 for your ass.)


... and never before has America's gift for not thinking too hard about things shone brighter than it's shining over the movie SNAKES ON A PLANE! Finally, a movie that isn't trying to be something great or big or impressive. Fuck no. It's pure crappy ass entertainment and THAT"s why it's going to be huge. This thing is poised to become the biggest cult hit of the summer, if not the single biggest cult movie ever made. This thing is going to be fucking huge. And what's even better is that the studio sees all the buzz and hype over the film going on on the internet and is simply letting it be, allowing schmucks like me to promote the film FOR them.


Here's a quote that really made me feel good about the whole thing ...


"I'm not doing this because I want people to go 'Oh, Samuel L. Jackson's in it, lets go see Snakes on a Plane.' I'm doing it because I wanted to be in a movie that has a bunch of snakes on a plane! I'm doing it because it's fun for me."
-Samuel L. Jackson, Empire magazine, June 2006


... that's fucking awesome. I can't wait to see this shit. I'll have a 72 oz. soda on one hand and a fucking trash can full of fucking popcorn in the other. Snakes on a plane. Awesome as hell.


Here's some free shit for you ...


Snakes on a Plane song #1

Snakes on a Plane song #2

Snakes on a Plane song #3

Snakes on a Plane song #4

Snakes on a Plane parody audio trailer

Acoustic Snakes on an Acoustic Plane #1

Acoustic Snakes on an Acoustic Plane #2

The COOLEST and cutest Snakes on a Plane t-shirt


... and here it is, a MAJOR exclusive that you can only hear right here! It's a clip of dialogue from Samuel L. Jackson directly from the movie Snakes on a Plane. Yes, I'm serious. No other web site but THIS ONE has this exclusive bit of dialogue! It's a major exclusive for us. And boy was it ever hard to get, too. I had to blow this sound guy in an alleyway on Melrose avenue to get this. But, hey, I'd take a shot in the mouth to bring you this major exclusive, so here it is. I guarantee you that you wont hear it anywhere else!


EXCLUSIVE Samuel L. Jackson dialogue from Snakes on a Plane!

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Massive Wind Clan Update for Your Ass ...



... and find out what clan you're rollin' with at the extremely gay and pathetic WarriorCats.com ...


Alkaline Trio: We've Had Enough

King Geedorah (MF Doom): I Wonder

Eels: Your Lucky Day in Hell

Blur: Crazy Beat

Jack Johnson: The Horizon Has Been Defeated

Flip the Switch: Plan 9

Wolfmother: Woman

Eels: Sweet Li'l Thing

Seether: Gasoline

Beatles: Your Mother Should Know

Socialburn: Down

Crucial Head: Plan 9

Donovan: Season of the Witch

Greatful Dead: Sugar Magnolias

Eels: Fresh Feeling

Raconteurs: Together

Beck: Satan Gave Me a Taco

Reverend Steve Galindo: (Ed Wood) Can't Be Stopped

Jow Walsh: I Like Big Tits




... and, if all that free music ain't enough for your warrior cat ass, then here's some Sifl and Olly for you. Damn, Reverend Steve just straight hooked your ass UP! Hell yeah. Your welcome, bitches!





The 1st Rule of Doing an Adult Webcam Show ...


... make sure your kid is in the other fucking room!

Visiting Wal-Mart Finally Pays Off ...

... I will not tell you how long Natasha, Isabela and I spent at the Elk Grove Wal-Mart. Let's just say that we spent an obscene amount of time there (and I mean 3+ hours here) looking for stuff to spend Natasha's $25 gift card on. But that's not all we did. We also danced, made fun of people, ate food, checked out hot chicks, made fun of people, and spilled a medium Hi-C orange lavaburst all over the floor by crafts; my left foot is still sticky as I sit here and listen to mashups and write this right now. Speaking of mashups, let me inturrupt this post with some music courtesy of the muthafuckin' Wind Clan, bitches ...


Party Ben: Cats Disappear (Cure VS Faint)

Party Ben: Wipeout Taffy (Surfaris VS D4L)

DJ BC: Yoshimi Battles Snoop Dogg (Snoop VS Flaming Lips)

Alex H: Green Lines (Booker T and the MG's VS Duran Duran)

Alex H: Get Eleanor (Beatles VS Seal)


... but, to continue, all of my years and years and years of being forced to go to dirty, nasty ass fucking Wal-Marts have finally paid off.


I found a $25 Best Buy gift certificate on the floor.


FUCK YEAH! WIND CLAN!!!

Friday, June 23, 2006

Steve OFFICIALLY Goes Overboard With YouTube ...

... yes yes yes, I know that I've bombarded this blog o' mine with a whopping crapload of videos in the last day or two, but this ten minute clip from the Daily Show is so hil-hil-hil-hil-hil-FUCKING-arious that you gotta see it, if for anything for Darth Vader's egg and the old nintendo gun.


Here you go ...


Disney's American Country Bears X ...

Bill Hicks, Our American Comedic Jesus ...


... some people found Bill Hicks from David Letterman or from the Dennis Miller Show or from the short lived Rodney Dangerfield Show ...




... but I am both ashamed and proud to say that I first found out about Bill Hicks from the DC Vertigo comic book series The Preacher, the single greatest comic book series every fucking created. I found out about him when I lived in Phoenix, which made me instantly fall in love with his album Arizona Bay, his single greatest album.


Bill Hicks turned stand up comedy into preaching. He was our modern American Jesus Christ, a mix of Jesus and Buddah and Johnny fucking Cash, wearing all black and smoking a fucking cigarette and preaching against the government and people from Los Angeles.


This next clip is from Bill when he was still young and innocent and slightly angry, before he decided to turn his comedy into sermons and become the makeshift American comic Jesus rebel for an entire series of generations. Go out right now and buy the DVD or any of his comedy albums and you will find a nearly perfect half hour or so of comedic sermons designed to change your life and change the way you think about life and your own existance.


Bill Hicks changed my life. He really fucking did. And I hope he does yours.


Here's a young Hicks on the Dennis Miller Show ...




He was such a hilarious guy, his vision so revolutionary, his message so strong and clear and intense, that those of us left listening to him talk against Jesus and the bible and George Bush Sr. on their stereos wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay after the fact are simply left to do nothing but WISHING AND PRAYING AND BEGGING that he was around now to lead us, to preach to us, to rip into George Bush Jr. and to rally against the ignorant, Jesus cock-sucking republican right and effectively lead us ALL into a newer and better tomorrow.


We need Bill Hicks now more than ever. We really do. Seriously. WHAT WOULD BILL HICKS DO? God I wish he was here to lead all of us who are sick of George fucking Bush but do nothing about it but type on message boards and stupid fucking web sites. Our generation needs a Bill Hicks. We really do.


And here's another thing ... this last clip that I'm about to play, try and watch the whole thing and tell me that Dennis Leary did fucking NOT steal Bill his entire fucking gimmic?


Huh?!?!?


A Labatt Kinda Night (Morning) ...

... I had a ton of shit that I wanted to write about. But, as the night turned into early morning, I find myself alone and drinking pint after pint of Labatt Blue and watching Mitch fucking Hedberg, a total fucking genius (and even more of a genius when you've had a few pints of Labatt Blue)


Here's a huge ass set of his if you don't believe me ...




... and here's a set of him on David Letterman that's just fucking incredible. And I think that, after this late Labatt night, I might start focusing on the greatest stand up comedians of all time. Stay tuned ...


Sunday, June 18, 2006

Father's Day Number Three ...

... I'm not used to Father's Day.


There. I said it.


I have a very low self esteem sometimes, which I hide behind smart ass jokes and this uncaring cocky facade that I feel really comfortable in. That being said, I feel extremely uncomfortable when Father's Day rolls around and suddenly I can do what I want to do and buy whatever I want to buy and go where I want to go. That makes me feel bad. A few times today I've already said "Well we can do something you guys want to do" which has been met with quick responses of "no" by the rest of the fam who can speak.


(Actually, little Bela just goes "AAAAUUUUUOWUUUHHHH DADAH PBBBBBBBBBBBB!" which I take as, no, we're going to do what YOU want to, daddy.)


This is father's day number three for me. Seems longer than that. Strange to think that there was a time when I wasn't a daddy. There was a time when I was drunk and single and angry and stoned and just fucking every thirtysomething divorcee and vulnerable twentysomething girl and loose morals young drunk heffer that walked into the bar. Wow. Those were ba-a-a-a-ad times. I never wanted kids and now I can't live without them. It just took me a few Father's Days to realize that.


That's awesome. That is so awesome. My life is awesome. I know I'm using the word "awesome" too much but there's no other word that better describes my day and the way that I feel right now. Happiness is cool and life is awesome and so far today I've been having an awesome fucking day. Granted, it would be a little bit more awesome if my legs were fucking working.


(Yes, legs, I know I haven't bowled in a long time. You can both stop yelling at me now.)


But it's still a pretty awesome-o sort of day, despite my horrible jelly legs. The coffee is good, the music is spanking, and damn if this huge fucking eggs and cheese and bacon and sausage breakfast that my wifey made me isn't tasty as fuck. God, I'd take down my pants and fuck this breakfast if my kids weren't around. I'd fuck the eggs, Am-Pie style, that's how good this breakfast is.


So, here's our itinerary ... first off we're going to go to a comic book store so I can look for copies of Civil War, then we're going downtown to Old Sac so that I can go to that movie store that sells all the movie props and Pez dispensers and movie memorabilia and Disneyland stuff to see if they still have blueprints of the Haunted Mansion or any Pirates movie memorabilia left. Then we're going to that harry pussy bead place so that I can make a necklace with two charms on it ... one of a plane, one of a snake. I'll have the first ever snakes on a plane necklace.


Here's some awesome random Father's Day music from the mutherfucking WIND CLAN ...


The Dears: There Goes My Outfit

Buddy Holly: Everyday

Eagles of Death Metal: I want You So Hard

Beatles: Rain (the best Beatles song nobody cares about)

Blind Melon: Three is a Magic Number

Warren G: Regulate

Red Hot Chili Peppers: Tell Me Baby

John Denver: Thank God I'm a Country Boy (Party Ben's City Boy Remix)

Grinspoon: Dead Cat X3 (stupidest song ever but still kicks major ass. It's in m4a format - sorry)

Sifl & Olly: Claire Danes

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Songs for my Sexxxy Ass WIfe ...



John Ondrasik (Five for Fighting): Penguin Lament

God my wife loves this song. It's from the Sandra Boynton kids book and cd "Dog Train" and my wife listened to it once and from there on out this became HER song. Thankfully, it's cute as hell and catchy, too, so it's pretty do-able.


Cowboy Junkies: Sweet Jane

My wife loves this song. This was one of those songs we used to listen to in the car after work, the two of us having closed together, we'd get into her car and listen to music for hours and hours, eventually fucking like rabbits, probably to this song. God I love this song.


Beatles: When I'm Sixty-Four

I know this is going to sound cheesy as hell, but Natasha and I can't wait to get old together, to buy an RV and wear ugly looking pants and just fall in love for our whole lives. I never wanted to grow old until I met her.


Sifl & Olly: Llama School

Sifl & Olly was the greatest show on television. So original, so creative, and done so cheaply, there will never be another show like it ever. This is a great bit. It's even cuter when Emerald is singing it.

I Haven't Bowled in a Long Ass Time ...

... that is the message that my legs, feet, and thighs are currently sending the rest of my body.


I just with that they weren't SHOUTING that message.


GodDAMN my legs hurt!


And after some sly last second political maneuvering, I do indeed have Father's Day off tomorrow. I was scheduled to close tomorrow despite me asking for it off three whole months ago. But now, all things taken care of, I do indeed have it off.


And thank WOOD we worked something out, too, because I swear to God and Buddah and fucking Uwe Boll that I asked for Father's Day off and I was going to GET Father's Day off even if I had to burn that sumbitch store down myself.

Natasha's Birthday Party ...

... was a damn fine success, despite some serious Nikara drama. I even got six spares in a row. Emerald got into it after I told her that bowling was just like the monkey bowling game on Super Monkey Ball.


Thank you to everybody who attended. It was awesome.

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Wife's Birthday Blues ...


... I was going to get this nice $90 chair at Ikea for my wife for her birthday. She said like a month ago that she loved it and wanted it, so I planned on buying it for quite some time now. But I was unable to get over there. Fuck, I didn't know where it was in the first place. Plus I didn't have the money. I was going to go yesterday with Marisa but I didn't because we were going to go to the movie (that we didn't go to) so I was forced to go TODAY, on Natasha's birthday, with Natasha there.


But it wasn't practical and we had nowhere to put it, so Natasha decided that she didn't want me to buy her my big present. So I'm depressed as all fuck because suddenly here I am, the worst husband in the world, because now I'm stuck not having a present for her for her birthday except for the Tamagochi I found on the floor at work.


Make things worse, we're supposed to be at the bowling alley for a little birthday get together RIGHT NOW but we had to go home first after our Ikea bust. So right now we're missing Natasha's birthday party. And we neglected to inform one of Natasha's brothers about the bowling thing and now he's treating her like shit, not talking to her, hanging up on her when she calls, and that's depressing Natasha. And on her BIRTHDAY, too! Fuck. Why does he turn his sister's fucking birthday into THE RANDAL SHOW STARRING RANDAL AS RANDAL! That fucking crybaby, ruining her sister's fucking birthday because he wants to be a little bitch.


God. I tried so hard to make today special for her. I know she says she's having a great day and that she loves me and that she didn't want the chair, but I can't help feeling like the worst husband in the whole fucking world.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Nacholessness ...

... tomorrow, friday, is my wife Natasha's birthday. We were going to start the celebration early tonight because we scored three free tickets to go see "Nacho Libre" for free tonight. But, as things often occur on my days off, a huge list of things to do suddenly popped up in our lives. It started off before five am when Natasha had to wake up and go to an "appointment." I woke up about 15 minutes after she left, heartbroken that I didn't wake up with her. I stayed awake until she arrived and all of us partied and listened to music ... until I passed out on the couch. When I woke up, we had to get dressed and drive CrackWhore somewhere, then go home, then Natasha had to take her to some park downtown while I stayed with Em and tried to cheer her up because one of nana's dogs died (strangled himself on the leash when nobody was looking). On her way back, she stopped at Gwen's and picked up the desk she's giving us, then had to run to the elementary school to pick up Emerald's cousin. She came back, we fed the kids, then we had to go back to Gwen's, not that I mind that because Gwen rocks ass, but her daughter Julia was in a massive "Somebody shot my cat" sized crying fit before when Natasha came to visit WITHOUT Emerald, so we had to go back so they could see each other and play. Then we were going to go to Ikea so that I could sneakily pick up Natasha something for her birthday, but we had no time, obviously, so we rushed home instead. While we were home, Natasha was falling in and out of sleep so bad that I finally made the call, after one hell of a busy ass day, to cancel the whole going out thing tonight. Natasha's been asleep since around six pm. Me, I'm not upset or bitter. It became obvious when we finally got back home and she was dozing off that she only wanted to go so that I could go, which is sweet, but I wanted to go to a movie that we both wanted to go see. I'm just starting to think that ever since little baby Bela was born that I'm just not supposed to be watching movies anymore. Movie theaters don't exist to me now. And, seeing all the shit that's out in theaters nowadays, shit that's more hype than content, movies not existing ain't that bad of a concept. So now some overlyhyped 300 billion dollar monster budget summer movie comes along and I just shrug it off. And that's awesome. Anyhoo, it's almost ten and everyone in the house is asleep but me. I'm staying up, eating chocolate, downloading songs, hacking into porn sites and drinking coffee. A perfect night if you ask me. And tomorrow, I guarantee you it will de-evolve into another day that's ten times more stressful than a day at work for me, but somehow I'll end up enjoying it anyway.


See ya!

Schoolhouse Rock Rocks ...



Man Or Astro-Man: Interplanet Janet

Chavez: Little Twelvetoes

The Lemonheads: My Hero, Zero

Ween: The Shot Heard 'Round the World (best one)

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Isabela's Second and Third Rooms ...

... last night Natasha was on the computer chatting away and I, wanting to be near her, plopped down on the couch right next to the computer desk and put in an old video. I love sitting by my wife on the couch and while she does her thang I just lay there and watch some old shit I halfheartedly give a shit about and eat ice cream and maybe fall asleep. That's how I spend most of my nights and it's pretty damn awesome-o. Sometimes it's an Ed Wood movie or some other old school fifties horror movie or an old WWF documentary or Eddie Izzard or Sifl & Olly or ECW or an old tape of The State or a Space Ghost dvd or Mystery Science Theater or some dusty old video tape of a movie I haven't seen in an African-American's age.


That describes my couch night last night. I went old school. Last night it was Four Rooms.


Memories of graduating in '95 in suburban Glendale, Arizona and watching Four Rooms the day it came out (Christmas fucking day) with Tom and Joe and maybe Joey. Seeing that movie again and again, memorizing the dialogue, having our favorite rooms ... the first room is crap made obviously by a lesbian director but is worth it to see Alicia Witt's masking taped titties. Second room was Tom's. He was the wannabe serious actor of the bunch so he loved that room and I think he had a thing for that Flashdance girl. Third room was mine, obviously, seeing as how I'm a wetback. Fourth one was Joey's seeing as he had such a hardon for all things Tarantino. That was one of "our" movies and godDAMN it's been a long time, man. A long fucking time.



Right when Witt was showing me her redheaded titties, Isabela, who is now can you believe it NINE fucking months old, screamed at me to let her on my lap. I held her and she squeamed, probably because she realized once again that I don't have a pussy, but eventually, as Ted was entering the second room, she calmed down and literally sat there and watched the entire second and third rooms, once again proving that she's the coolest fucking baby ever!


She just watched Tom's room in awe, jaw open, and she loooooved room three, probably reminded her of her Grampa Pepe. And, like a good pop culture baby, she fell asleep to the talk-screeching of Kathy Griffin.


Isabela rocks ass.

Body Breakdown ...


My body broke down yesterday. My stomache stopped working, my head was on fire, every joint in my body hurt like hell, I was dizzy as hell. There's two reasons for that. One was that when cleaning out my coffee mug I apparently didn't rinse it too much and subsequently swallowed a ton of soap with my coffee. The second reason was because I work too hard. I zone more, I lift more, I walk too fast and I end up doing the work of two or three people because the employees that are supposed to be mine end up helping everybody else. So my mindset is that it's pretty much just me working in my section, so you get days like last monday where I'm doing this, that, the other thing, puttinmg away a ton of stuff, and zoning something like 13 bays.


I work too hard and push myself too far. It's probably that stubborn bastard part of me that I got from my father. I shouldn't work too hard. For starters, it's not like I get too much credit for it anyway. Secondly, I see people talking it up all the time at work. Hell, there are people whose job seems to be talking in receiving all day. And I get accused of not being too friendly at work to the other employees but I'm just bitter because people talk at customer service, people talk in the manager's office, people talk in receiving, people talk at the cash registers, but nobody comes into kids at all. In fact, people work hard to avoid anything to do with my section, so it's just me all alone all day talking to myself. And that just makes me quiet and makes me work three times harder than I should.


So yesterday was my body telling me to slow the fuck down and if you don't then we'll kick your fucking ass again. Bad time for it to do that seeing as how tonight is another meeting of the Harry Potter club, which takes all day to get ready for and once a month kicks my ass. But, fuck, I have to do it.


I think it's time for me to take a vacation.



Wind Clan sends some music up your ass.


Today's music is from now apparently broken up punk band Amazing Transparent Man, named after one of the coolest B-movies ever. These guys wanted to play at Edwoodstock but we couldn't afford the plane tix. I still feel upset over that because they broke up shortly after that. Anyways, these guys were the best at covering chick songs.


Here's a few for you ...


Hero

Fast Car

Criminal

Nothing Compares 2 U

Monday, June 12, 2006

Things the Old Man Who Called At Worked and Talked to Me for 20+ Minutes Said That I Actually Understood ...


92nd Division
On the floor
Given special details
My son's named Dr. John
Hope he'll come see me
Yeah
Over in Europe
Betrayed
I was a special agent
Forbidden to talk about it
Um
Arnold river
I was on secret assignment
Saw it on the tee-vee
Yeah
I called Dale Schornack
Well, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Are you still there
Don't know
If the book hasn't been written I'd still like to talk to somebody
I can help, I have photos
Could I get the author's phone number
Where would I get that
What do you think

Saturday, June 10, 2006

A Special Message from Steve's iPod ...

... I know that Ive mentioned this here before a year or so back but in case you missed the previous post, this is a link to an AT&T TTS demo, TTS meaning text to speach, which is the way that deaf people and various other speds talk over the phone. It's a working demo, meaning that you can type whatever you want, choose a voice (my favorites are Rich, the brotha' voice, and Claire, the old hag voice) and listen to your computer talk back to you. Take my word for it when I say that it can be a whole of a lot of fun when you've been drinking and its late at night and you want to make your computer say highly offensive things to other people. In that scenario it's a blast.


But yesterday I realized that, with the download function on the website, that there is an incredible wealth of possibilities for this thing to fill up your iPod with cool, funny, highly offensive wacked out shit. It's nice to have small wav tracks hiding in your iPod because it breaks up the music with some laughs and there's nothing funnier than what you can do with an offensive imagination and this web site.


Here are some of the things currently on my iPod that I created with the TTS demo ...


A Special Message from Steve's iPod

Attention, Barnes and Noble customers ...

Where My Bitches At?

Emerald is Craaaaaaazy

Isabela is Hardcore

Natasha is Sexy

Largest Storytime in the History of the Store ...

... my storytimes changes its popularity over and over again like a strange hyperactive bell curve. Sometime I'll have 30 kids at our saturday and hardly anyone on our tuesday reading and then sometimes my tuesday storytime will be massive and hardly anyone will be there on a saturday.


In the past two months it has switched to me having 20-30 kids on tuesday and our saturday storytimes having 4 to 10 kids. There was a small bit of talk on "What can we do to improve storytime, Steve?" which was slightly offensive seeing as how everyone who does not directly work in the children's department goes OUT OF THEIR WAY to NOT go into the children's department ... and now you want to try and help ME make storytimes better? Where's your help when I'm the only one in the kid's department for three days straight and I'm doing the work of three damn people, huh? Where are you when I really need you. Blind anger on my behalf, I know, but anger nonetheless.


But the tides have been slowly turning lately toward saturdays being my powerhouse once again and I knew, with the weekend numbers slowly on the increase, that today was going to be a make it or break it day for me.


So I went all out with this one. I special ordered a whole lot of books that we don't normally have to read. I thought up some great bits to do to play off the kids so that they get loud and interactive. I had some great snacks. I had a contest, too, that was awesome and funny and all my brainchild. I even had a special guest, too: Miffy the rabbit doing an in-store. And best of all ... Disney's Cars was playing right outside the door at the movie theater right next to us. I was all set. I was ready.


And damn did it ever pay off. The final estimates were 42 kids and 29 adults, what I believe to be the largest storytime in our store ever.


And afterwards our store manager, who was in the big-headed Miffy costume for all of 15-20 minutes, said that she needed a raise. I wanted to yell at her. I do this twice a week, over an hour every storytime, and afterwards my voice is shot, my body is sore, my head is dizzy, and I get paid shit, too. I get no extra play for this, for going above and beyond my job description twice a week, but I do it anyway because there's nothing like the happiness I get from entertaining these kids. It's amazing.


Here's some pics ...






... note how Miffy's huge head bangs on the archway ...



... little kid crying when Miffy gestures for a hug ...



... and a cool group photo with some of the the kids at the end.



Friday, June 9, 2006

Some Last Minute Visitors ...

... well, apparently my parents are in town for the day and apparently we're all going to eat at Hometown Buffet, which I'm damn excited about seeing as I haven't eaten all day and my stomache is eating itself. But, so as not to completely freak out my parents, I will abstain from my regular Hometown habit of stuffing a plastic bag inside my backpack so that I can take 6-10 pieces of chicken home with me. Yeah, I'm poor. How could you tell?


Anyways, wish me luck with the parental units. This should be interesting ...

I'm Getting Paid for Sex ...

... hell yeah! I am going to get PAID today and I just can't wait! I'm like a kid at a toy store knowing he's getting a toy today. That's how I feel. I want my toy. Anyway, here's how it's going to go down ... my wife's birthday is a week from today. We were going to have a big party but now I just think we're going bowling or something, just a chance to get everybody together. Well, I have a super awesome top secret birthday present in store for her that I am ve-e-e-e-ery excited about getting and I will be sure to get some photos of it in action and post them up here, although that will be highly scandalous. However, getting the piece will require about a hundred dollars and a few hours of treasure hunting. And seeing as I have absolutely NO math experience whatsoever I do not handle the expenses in our family. My wife does. So she is going to pay me a hundred dollars today that I can use later in the week to try and hunt down this top secret birthday present. But getting handed a hundred bucks isn't too exciting. So my wife and I have mutually decided that instead of just giving me the money she will be paying for my services in the bedroom, my hard, long lovemaking services. And, hey, a hundred bucks is a damn good deal for that, too! My big latino heat is much more expensive than that, believe me. But, since we're married, I'm giving her friend prices. Least I can do, you know?


Here's some good sex music ...


Dave Brubeck: Take Five

Pink Floyd: Comfortably Numb

Eels: Saturday Morning

Thursday, June 8, 2006

My Thoughts Immediately After Watching "WWE vs ECW Head to Head" ...


E C W!

E C W!

E C W!

E C W!

E C W!


It is time, people.


You've strayed for long enough.


It is time for everybody to come home.


I know that it's been a long long time since you've been a wrestling fan. For some of you it's been a year or two. For some of you it's been since Stone Cold fought The Rock. For some of you, hell, it's been since Hogan fought Sid Vicious and The Ultimate Warrior wasn't a fucking joke.


But that dark, dark time is all past now.


I know you haven't called yourself a wrestling fan in a long time. Hell, I'm a hardcore wrestling fan and god knows when the last time was that I watching the boring bullshit-fest that is the Vinnie Mac Show talking down to you every week like you're a fucking idiot.


Well, don't worry because that's all gone now.


Well, nevermind. It's still there and still as boring as ever.


But now there's something else, something better, something that is a viable alternative to the WWE, something that has the violence and the brutality and the high flying madness that you've missed, something that doesn't have that douchebag Jeff Jarret (thank you TNA), something that is going to once again redefine what we know to be professional wrestling.


ECW is back, my friends.


It's time for all the stray wrestling fans to come on home. Real wrestling is back.


There's an ECW pay-per-view this sunday. I don't expect all of you to see it.


But ECW comes back in full swing this tuesday night on, of all places, the Sci-Fi Network.


I'll be there. And I expect to see all of you there as well. Rejoyce, my friends. Wrestling is finally back!

Tuesday, June 6, 2006

YAY PLAGIARISM ...


... the band Red Hot Chili Peppers are being accused of plaigarism, which excites me an awful lot because although I'm a fan of them and their music I am also a big fan of celebrities I like being accused of things.


Here's what you need to know ... radio station WGMD in Delaware of all places, and I didn't think Deleware had comprehended fire or invented the wheel yet let alone mastered radio waves, has not only realized the possible plaigarism BUT has created a mashup to prove their point.


The verdict? Hear it all for yourself ...


Red Hot Chili Peppers: Dani California (link to download site)


Laptop Punk (AKA Mashlock Holmes): Last Dance With Dani

Remain Calm ...



... deep breath ...


... try and remain calm ...


... don't try to think about things too much ...


... and a personal thank you to Marisa Johnson for making last night's 50 mile couch experience much more bearable.

Monday, June 5, 2006

Aryan Embarrassment and My Brother's Socks ...


... the band Aryan Embarrassment, who has for a long time shared a bond with my own strange semi-drunk works of whatever, has finally gotten off its ass and created a brand spankin' new, very hastily built web site where, after a few hours of searching, you can eventually find two or three tracks which feature semi-drunk audio samples of me, Reverend Steve, recorded years and years and years ago.


Aryan Embarrassment: My Brother's Sock (sock rockin' beats mix)

(and here is the original, recorded very drunk, November 2001)


Aryan Embarrassment: The Sock Revolution

(and here's the original, recorded wasted off my ass, summer 1999)


Aryan Embarrassment: Unsound

(ends with The Parable of the Wise Man)


... it's all good, ass-rockin' music, good to bang your head to and dance to. And be sure to go to their web site and check out all their other music, too.


And, hell, while you're at it, go on over to the Church of Ed Wood music page to download some awesome woodian madness from myself and many others!

Sunday, June 4, 2006

Ed Wood's "Orgy of the Dead" ...



Text taken from soon to be published "Ed Wood Bible" - for more information, please click here ...


"Lacking the charisma and optomism needed to get backers for his projects, he was forced to work as a hired lackey for other directors and their low-rent sleaze pictures.


That led to Ed's most well known post Urge projects, working as the screenwriter and second unit director on Stephen Apostolof's bizzare horror striptease masterpiece, Orgy of the Dead. The film stars Criswell and a blatant Vampira ripoff named Ghoulita as the God and Goddess of the Dead who ultimately decide who enters the realm of the dead and who is destined to remain. The deciding factor? How good they can strip in a graveyard.


At least, that's what the film is probably about.


It's hard to understand the nonsensical script and it's hard to stay awake through the atrocious stripteases. Worse, Criswell is so aged at this point in his career that you actually believe there's a chance he might keep over and die before the film's end. Thankfully, what the film lacks in acting, dialogue, and coherance, the film more than makes up for them with the amazing score provided, or more likely stolen, by the Chilean Symphony Orchestra."


I love this fucking movie. That being said, I hardly ever see it. I bought a cheap copy of the soundtrack, and when I say soundtrack I mean a cd of the audio of the film, dailogue and all, and that is when I came to the realization that although the film is almost impossible to sit through, simply listening to the moody longue music and the stiff, bizarre dialogue and the strange misplaced sound effects is an incredible listening experience. The film suddenly transforms from monster nudie crap into one of the most amazing transcendental pieces that you could ever listen to.


Here's a few tracks. Listen to some of it for yourself ...


Opening credits

All Their Radiance

Night Things

Feathers, Furs and Fluff

A Man Dance

End Credits

Saturday, June 3, 2006

Bad MySpace Poetry - Part One ...


... the single most important thing that MySpace teaches us, apart from how annoying it is to have a website force you to listen to a shitty fucking LinkinPark song, is that there are still people out there, young people, who dress all in black and are really into the muppets-in-fagland dick sucking festival Labrynth and still vehemently read and re-read and re-re-read all of the Anne Rice vampire books despite the fact that her sudden Jesusness is pretty much an F-you to all her fans that made her rich and famous.


Call them what you will ... goth, punks, people still living with their parents, ostentatious fuckballs. But don't for once think that these nineties throwbacks are merely the stuff of legend. Oh no, my fine feathered friend! They exist and roam freely amongst us. There are people out there that still listen to Korn and get piercings because they think it's "kewl" and dress all goth and listen to Nine Inch Nails because Trent's pain mirrors their own inner torment.


These douchebags all get MySpace accounts and want you to read their shitty ass poetry. Which is obvious seeing as how ...


NIN + ANNE RICE
= CRAPPY POETRY


... but these gothdouches all want you to read their crappy poetry. And I know that you, being sane, won't actually go on the net looking for any of this crappy poetry. So I, being the king of customer service that I am, I have decided to bring the crappiness directly to you!


So buckle up, brace yourself, and be sure to bring your white face makeup because it's bad poetry time ...




Flavors of poison, twisting hates

dark and dangerous roads of Fates.

Enjoy the spectacle of my broken soul

my heart is just a unwelcoming hole.

This damned calliope of pain

my smile will never be the same.

Ride on and see the torments of me

my chained hope will never fly free.


... that one was written by a thirtysomething female whose fave films include Interview with a Vampire, Legend, Shock Treatment, and Lair of the White Worm. OOOH! She lives in a magical fantasy world of unicorns and spirit animals. What a magical world that must be. Here's another one ...


Carry

Changes coming down...

the rain falls, like my tears of blue

I see the rose dying in the dawn

and there's nothing I can do.

What did you think, I'm all armor and force?

I can only withstand the wind so long,

the tides tear at me and the sun destroys.

Let me hold to myself all of my joys

before you call me fool.

I never wanted to be a fool, you know.

I only wanted happiness and bright skies

and now I carry within me

these things that I despise.


... here are some things that can be assumed about the author from these two poems: comes from a divorced family, shops at Hop Topic, owns way too many things with faries on them, pretends to be into bondage, has unresolved father issues, and lights lots and lots of incense.


CLICK HERE TO EXPERIENCE HER CRAPPY POETRY YOURSELF!

Another 50 Mile Couch Sorta Night ...

... got home, Natasha's out with Gwen and the baby and our oldest is with her nana, so I hang out at home and download songs (like Tribe Called Quest and the incredibly bouncing new Outkast single) and wonder what's for dinner. Around seven Natasha comes home, does a quick meet and greet with me, drops the baby off, and then goes out drinking with Gwen over at Hoppy's for the night. So, um ... I guess microwavable pizza is what's for dinner, although, to break free from the sounds of lonely pizza depression, the pizza IS Digorno's new Garlic Bread Pizza. So that's good I guess. I don't want all this talk of 50 mile couches to make it seem as if my wife and I are on the outs, because nothing can be further from the truth. We're good. We're doing fucking great, actually. We're talking out our fears and our worries, we're staying up late and partying like a fun sleepover, we're dancing and laughing, and also we're having the hottest and nastiest sex that a married couple is allowed to have. It's just that, sitting here on the 50 mile couch watching the same bad movies and wrestling videos over and over again, I wish that I had more friends, the amount of current friends I have I could easily count on one hand. And have a few fingers left over. But, on the positive side, and you should always look on the positive side, the music is good and the pizza is awesome and the company is wonderful. My oldest just came back from nana's. I'm going to let her stay up a little late so that I can have company that won't make me change her poop every ten seconds.

Friday, June 2, 2006

Gnarls Barkley's Subtle Changes ...



... you should know by now that Gnarls Barkley's album St. Elsewhere is the best rap album since Adult Swim created an album last year that made twentysomething hipsters everywhere pretend that they've been into MF Doom for years. But what sets Elsewhere apart from Danger Doom is the infusion of rap and R & B and old school motown mellowness meets crazy out of control A.D.D. techno madness, as in the song Go Go Gadget Gospel.


The music is incredible. It's amazing genre-defying music. But what is really intruguing is that there were subtle changes made to a handfull of Gnarls Barkley songs between the much earlier UK release of St. Elsewhere and the much later US release. The changes that were made were small ones that made some of the music seem newer and fresher for their American audiences and in particular for people like me who pretty much downloaded all the UK songs but still wanted to buy the cd when it came out over here.


However, in one case the entire meaning of one song, including the song's title, was turned upside down.




Compare and contrast it for yourself ...


UK VERSION: Basically


US VERSION: Who Cares




... and if you still miss the hyperactive infusion of mind blowing raps, bizarre backbeats and offensive cartoons characters, then AdultSwim.com is offering a brand spankin' new Danger Doom EP absolutely free to download right now! It's good stuff, too. Click here to get yourself Danger Doom's new EP "Occult Hymn"


Thursday, June 1, 2006

My Sexxxy Ass Wife ...

... yeah, I know, I'm one lucky son of a bitch!







My Mind Is Now Officially Blown ...



... my four year old daughter Emerald just invented a game. It's called "Dreams You've Never Had" and you each take turns telling each other a dream you've never dreamed.


Wow. Seriously. Wow. Well, in other news, I think my mind is now officially oatmeal.


Dreams you've never had. Amazing. It's now officiall. Emerald fucking rocks!


Just to Let You Know ...

... I am totally fucking wasted. It is two in the morning and I am on my third pint of Labatt Blue and I am far from sleeping. And although I know fully well that my four year old will wake me up at seven or eight in the morning by pulling my feet and quietly saying "C'mon daddy, wake up!" I welcome that amazingly cute and heartbreakingly cute as all fuck wake-up call. It shows that I am a responsible parent and that there's nothing more that I love than being a responsible dad.


Here's some pictures of the Galindo girls ...