Organic fruits and veggies waiting to be gobbled

Rat Killer

I  killed a rat the other day. I am not proud of it, but it was something that needed o be done. The poor fucker had wondered into my back porch during that last big storm. In my haste to get out of the deluge, I failed to shut the back door correctly and it had swung open so I could not blame the guy for seeking shelter. Hell, I am a bit surprised that I did not find a multitude of squirrels, ground hogs and rabbits in there too. These critters would have most likely left after the storm, however, the rat being a rat found the multitude of empties and assorted clutter as a perfect new home and decided it was going to stay.

This is my fault too. I have been back in The Mitten for two years now and I still have not returned a single ten cent deposit. That ten cents adds up so I cannot bring myself to simply throw them away but, then again, I also can't seem to bring myself to haul them back to the store and get my deposit back. So instead, they pile up in my back porch, along with other useless shit that tends to accumulate in back porches thus making it a perfect place for a big old river rat to hide out.

The thing was pretty fucking big too. Big enough to give my dog  run for his money, which was one of the main reasons why I had to finally do the deed. My little turd for a dog might have tried to make friends with the thing and gotten bitten and I really do not need that to happen. Sure, my dog can get pretty vicious with his stuffed animals, but a living, squealing, biting and fighting creature with claws teeth is a whole other story. And, even if my little terrier did manage to kill the thing, I really do not want him to get that kind of blood lust. It is bad enough that he engorges himself on the stuffing of his toys, I can imagine what would happen if he got the taste of some rat guts.

That is all I need is for my dog to turn into some psycho bloody thirsty monster rat killer. 

Walking him is hard enough as it is. 

So, back to the rat...

For all you overly liberal goody goodies, in my defense, I did my best to encourage the rat to leave on its own, but the thing was simply intent on living off of the accumulated trash in my back porch. I even left a trail of organic bread crumbs leading out the door and then waited to see if I could chase back out into the wild. The little fucker was too clever for that simply slinking out to grab the crumbs before skirting back before I could leap out from behind the kitchen door  to scare it away.

Then, after spending the day thinking about other ways to trick this feral creature into leaving, I decided to get proactive and actually clean out my porch, hoping to maybe root the thing out that way. First, I took out my garbage can, which is were I first encountered the creature, snacking on some burrito leavings. Then, I started taking out all the returns and piling them outside. The pile got pretty high and looking at all the beer bottles made me thirsty, so I then cracked open a cold one and continued working letting the beer help numb me for what was about to come next.

As, I was removing the bottles, I could hear the scurrying about as the rat dug itself deeper and deeper into the accumulated jetsam.Finally, I caught site of a tail behind a milk crate full of old newspapers and I simply reacted, whacking the crate as hard as I could with a curtain rod. I didn't scream any sort of war cry from my primordial viking depths, I simply swung and soon enough that was that. I did drop a sledge hammer on the thing, just to make sure.

Afterward, after burying it in a makeshift grave out back, I felt a little sad that I had to resort to such violence. Perhaps, I could of found  way to humanely remove the vermin. Perhaps, but what is done is done and there is no going back. I do think it is high time I cleaned my back porch and fix my door so that it shuts properly.

As Seen On TV! Sucker

I like TV. No, I Love TV. Always have and there is nothing wrong with it. If it wasn't for all these stupid laws, I would even marry my TV. We are already domestic partners of sorts, sleeping in the same room together, sharing our NFL Sunday Mornings and Nights (TWD, GOT), making plans for Wednesday nights (that's when The Americans is on). We should at least qualify for some civil union of sorts. 

 One of the side effects with this love affair with my cable box is the fact that I am prone to commercial suggestion. This is especially true for Taco Bell and all those "As Seen On TV" products out there. Every time I see some product being hocked on late night television, I feel the sudden need to have that product. 

For example, in betwixt bong rips I might exclaim shit like...

"Holy FuckBalls! Did you see how that Sham Towel thing soaked up that Pop! I could use something like that to soak up blood, urine, semen.and stuff."

"That Rubber in the Can Stuff looks sick! I could totally use it to make sure "the pit" is safely sealed from prying eyes or even make a suit out of it!"

"Cheesy Fuckin Rice, I could really use that whatumathinger that chops shit to itty bitty pieces. I wonder if it works on bone?"

Thankfully, I am generally taking bong hits ( don't judge, I have a documented medical condition) so I do not have the ambition to tell my smart phone to log unto the site so I might order this one thing that I just now so desperately need while they are still throwing in a second set plus a miracle cheese grater for just the price of shipping and handling.  In fact, maybe I should change my "medical condition" to "chronic consumerism" because if it wasn't for those blessed bong hits, I would probably be up to my taint in crap that I purchased off of my beloved television set. 

The fact that I am denied instant gratification also is huge factor as to why I only yearn for these got to have it new fangled products instead actually going through the trouble of ordering them. I am an American, dammit! When I want something, I want it yesterday, not in 3 to 4 weeks or however the fuck long it takes for those bastards to handle and ship my new awesome stuff to me. 

Of course, the As Seen on TV people, they know this. They know there are proud and lazy Americans like me out there who do not want to wait. So they came up with the genius idea of putting up those displays up in stores, luring chronic consumers like me to it like a drunkard to a Roach Coach. 

If I come across one of these displays, my need to peruse it for some some treasure that I have salivated over late in the night, is overwhelming. And if I happen to have a little extra scratch on me, I find myself walking out of the store, blissed to my balls that I got my hands on that one perfect thing that I so desperately needed that now is going to make my life oh so awesomesauce. 

Of course,

Sometimes the Sauce does not turn out to be Awesome

The Snuggy, for example, says its one size fits all, but apparently big ass Scandinavian is not included in the "all" category. I had to leave the fricking cult because of that. I didn't even get a taste of the Kool Aid. 

Also, the ShamWow towel failed turn piss into pop like I am certain the commercial claims. Sure, its soaks up all the urine that I left on floor just fine, but when I squeeze it into a glass, it is still just urine not delicious soda. If I was not too busy medicating with bong hits, I would totally consider suing them. 

Still, some of the TV Shwag that I buy does turn out useful if not awesome

The Music Bullet Speaker does help me crank up the music when company is over though I wish I could remember to turn it off when I am playing umm , other stuff (by other stuff , I mean porn). I am sure the Topsy Turvy works great, If only I could manage to pull it out of the closet before October. The Furniture Fix also  did turn my ratty old saggy coach into a ratty old couch but I had to buy three packs in order to cover the whole thing and now the thing no longer has that nice broken in feel. 

Still Despite my bliss bubble getting slightly punctured, I still manage to find myself dreaming of the day I find that next gotta have it As Seen on TV item sitting on the store shelf. Right now I am thinking about that awesome gel filled ass cushion thing. My ass could really use something like that. I am hoping that any day now that it will show up. The manager told me that it usually takes around six months to get a As Seen On TV Product after you start seeing it on TV, so I just have to be patient and wait a little longer until I can receive that shot of bliss that comes from consuming like a true mother fucking American. 

    

 

Jesus loves the NRA

Somewhere by the dead Sea

Archaeologists poking around in the Desert have recently uncovered a hidden cache of ancient scrolls that  appears to contain yet another Lost Gospel excluded from the official canon which depicts the son of God in a completely different light. The Book of Jebidiah is said to contain previously unknown sermons by J.C. which are complete departures from his typical hippy dippy banter of "turning the other cheek" and "doing unto others". 

"This is Thine Boomstick"

While its translation is still being debated, it is believed that the Lost Book of Jebidiah tells a fanciful tale of the Sandal Wearing Holy Man conjuring up a mystical weapon that is eerily similar to a modern day assault rifle in order to drive off thieves and tax collectors from a lucrative water to wine making business that he started up with a several of his disciples in order to help support his ministry. 

"I knew it!" declares Bobby Bob Robertson, President of the Jesus Loving Gun Owners Association, " I knew our Lord and Savior was for gun owner rights. I knew he wasn't just about healing the sick, feeding the poor, giving up his life for others and the rest of that commie sounding bullshit that the left wing likes to talk about. The book of Jebidiah proves that my Lord did have a pair of balls and did not like the Romans or the Jews for that matter tramping all over his 2nd Amendment rights. Yee Hah!" 

Jesus has yet to release a statement about the latest discovery.   

Pressing matters

Sure, it looks more like Male Enhancement Tool from Scandinavia, but this strange looking device can make one mean ass cup of Americano. While I might not agree with the "best coffee maker I've ever owned" title (that still belongs to the Chemex), I have actually been having a whole lot of fun with this new Aeropress that I just picked up from World Market.  

How it works

The Aeropress is sort of a crossbreed using both infusion and high pressure to make brew a unique version of the World's favorite drink. First you add hot water to a few scoops of finely ground coffee in the chamber, stir it for a few seconds and then you force it out the filtered bottom into the cup, resulting in an espresso shot that is worthy of any wannabe barista. 

America No 

Due to this wintry weather that does not want to go away, I have been on a real espresso kick lately and this device is earning its keep by keeping me properly jazzed. By adding hot water to the resulting brew, I have been imbibing in some pretty hefty Americanos that help me take my mind off the fact that Phil the Groundhog is a one lying SOB. 

                                                                   

I am currently drinking  a double shot Americano of Aged Sumatra Aceh (from Sweet Marias) that I roasted up last Friday. It tastes better than it did yesterday and will probably have me wishing I let it sit a little longer when  finish up the rest of it tomorrow.

 I also bought a can of Lavazza Italian coffee to try with it and found it surprisingly good for canned coffee. The little circular filters that fit into the screw on base of the coffee maker seem be of the same quality of the Chemex filters, helping to smooth out the coffee by filtering out some of the more bitter elements. 

Price

My new toy cost me about 40 bucks and came with a good supply of filters which I can hopefully find when I run out. Sure, I could have probably gotten it cheaper online, but it was an impulse buy and probably would not thought of getting it if I did not happen to run into it at the World Market. And no, I was not in there looking for Scandinavian Male Enhancement Tools.   

Not so fresh roast

Sipping on some breakfast brew from a bag of beans I bought from the health food store. Despite reaching as far back as possible in the shelf to get a bag with the furthest "sell by" date, I still got some stale ass coffee.  Makes me wonder when it was roasted and what it would taste like in 2014 when it finally deemed expired. Time to take a virtual trip to Sweet Maria's.

Gun control

\

Fresh Coffee in 517 Mofo

So, I Finally got around to buying some more green beans from Sweet Marias. My last order had been forever ago, back when I was still a bayarian in fact, before homesickness and those "Pure Michigan" commercials pulled me back to the Dirty Mitten.

While, there are a lot of great things about living in Great Lake State, acess fo green coffee beans is certainly not one of them. There is no place around the Capital Shitty that I can ride my bike to and pick up a few pounds of Dry Processed Ethiopian green beans for half the price of some roasted stuff that has been sitting on some store's shelf. Ships laden with bulk bags coffee beans seldom make it Up the Grand River.

I failed to appreciate the value of living in a port city until I could not take advantage of free customer pick up at Sweet Marias. I the shipping would have been cheaper if I did not absolutely have to have a pack of Chemex filters which made my order to bulky to fit into a usps express box, but I absoIutely had to have them (it had been too long since I ran out ).

Despite the added cost to my hobby/passion, I am glad that I finally got around to it. I had almost forgotten what true fresh roast tasted like.

Batman Spoilers

So....

I went to go see "The Dark Knight Rises" on I-Max. I went with a friend of mine. Another Dude. Just two dudes going to watch a comic book movie.

Yup...

Nothing wrong with that.

Anyway, since it was a weekday and the Midwest, the I-Max theater was only half full. I felt like such a rebel sitting in a seat that was not the seat the computer had assigned to me.

Yup,

To see The Batman in I-Max, you are going to have to sit where the computer puts you. The girl with braces explained it all to me at the counter, but I was still pretty ripped from the bong hits that me and my other dude friend had taken before we left to go see the finale to Nolan's Batman Trilogy. I only understood half of what she said, but I got the gist of it. Thankfully, her carefully choreographed speech was to no avail, and we got to sit in the center aisle and enjoy Batman in I-Max in all of its awesomeness. We did miss half of "The Hobbit" trailer though.

It was pretty awesome. Real fucking awesome. Not as epic as "The Return of the King". Still, it was a pretty good way to end a trilogy.Way the hell better than Rami's final Spider Man. Yes, you can argue that "The Dark Knight" was just a bit awesomer (and not just because people still like to dress like Heath Ledger on Halloween) and you would have a valid point. That one was a little less choppy. But still, I thought it was a fitting ending to an epic movie character.

Spoiler Alert!

Okay, for those of you who have have to decided that they do not want to have a computer to tell you where to sit and to wait for summer's most anticipated blockbuster to show up on cable television, do not read any further. I am going to give away the entire end of the movie and talk  about how Batman dies a horrible bloody death at the hands of  Evil Superman.

Oh Crap...

Well, I really hope that I did not just spoil the whole thing for you. You really should have taken my "Spoiler Alert" more seriously. I did put in a bold font. But anyway now you know and should, really, really stop reading before you find out more juicy tidbits like how Cat Woman gets knocked up by Bruce Wayne after she stills his semen sample that he keeps in his safe in Bruce Manor.

Oopsie,

Well, I hope I just did not totally ruin it for you now. It is a really good movie and you should really go and see it. So what if you know what is going to happen. There still a lot of stuff I did not give away. You still don't know, for instance, about Robin showing up after the Cirque Du Soliel comes into town, or Bane's Vader Helmet fetish. See, lots of stuff to be astounded by.

If anything Anne Hathaway's leather clad butt on the Bat Cycle is worth the price of I-Max admission alone. even if you have to be seated by a computer. The dude I saw it with totally agrees with me.

45 is the new 27

People Laugh when I tell people that I plan to live to at least 120. Sure,  I happen to be a funny guy, but on this subject, I am serious.

I tell them this, and they laugh some more.

Some will even shake their heads and give me a sympathetic pat on the back say stupid world weary things like "good luck with that."

Well, laugh it up suckers.

Let us see who is doing the laughing four score and five years from now.

Green Tea, Aged Garlic, Aloe Vera, Concentrated Cherry Juice packed with anthocyanins, Hot Yoga, TCM, Omega 3's, EPA's, Vitamin C by the truckload, Daily Exercise, Red Wine, EVOO, Aspirin, Apple Cider Vinegar, Green Coffee Beans...

All the secrets to a long life are there, waiting to be looked up on your smartphone or downloaded onto your tablet. I pump my body with enough antioxidants to kill an entire planet's worth of free radicals. I exercise, I eat right, I do all the things that Dr. OZ says I should do.

And, if that shit don't work, there still is science and technology to keep my ass going.

Pasteurization, Penicillin, Gene Therapy, Cloning, Bionic Limbs, Hot Nurse Sponge Baths

Our life spans have nearly doubled in the past century and barring a Zombie in the White House or any any other apocalyptic scenario, scientific progression is only going to to increase our longevity. Even if all of my preventative supplementation fails, I can still have my 80 year old brain implanted into a shiny new robot body.

Imagine how fun that will be! Running through brick walls, having crazy robot sex and such, being a cyborg would be way better than merely getting cloned back in a vat of goo, although to each its own I say.

Yeah, People laugh at my crazy scheme of living well to the end of the 21st century. Let the laugh. I got all the time in the world to prove them wrong.

Detroit Pot City

Well, Well, Well...

Will you look at that.

Looks like a couple of Deetroit Lions made the news by getting popped for the reefer. Both Mikel "I haven't played yet" LeShoure and Nick "I have played some" Fairley managed to get pulled over by local Police and get nailed for possession in the same week. Throw in Johnny "I am just a offensive Lineman" Culbreath, who got popped on similar charges a month ago, in the mix and you have the makings of a epidemic.

Of course, the press is up in arms, calling for the drawing and quartering of these young professional athletes for daring to violate the asinine anti drug policies that still exist in the country. "How can they be so dumb?" seems to be the sentiment of the day from the various talking heads. "Here we are, giving these dudes a ton of money and privileges to play a game and what do they do? They Spit in our face by toking down like typical twenty somethings, throwing away their future in the NFL and blowing their chances of ever being able to run for political office or work at Walmart."

It seems to be the sentiment that while Marihuana (as we like to call it in Michigan) should probably be decriminalized, these players need to be held accountable for violating the NFL's sorta strict anti drug policy simply because they should be smarter than that. I mean, come on, how hard is it to get away with doing the pot these days? Most cops, even in small towns, have better things to do than bust people for minor possession violations, but both Nick and Mikel seemed to go out of their way to get caught by going to the Suh School of reckless driving and having the shit on them while they were out joy riding. Sometimes a cop has no choice but to bust you, especially if make it way too obvious.

Blame Detroit

Perhaps we should blame the city of Deetroit for the stupidity of these three (four of your want to throw MSU's Nix into the Mix). Perhaps the city's openness to "medical" marijuana lulled these players into thinking that law enforcement everywhere is okay with you smelling like a dead skunk while driving.Unfortunately for Fairley, Alabama is nowhere as cool as Michigan. Hell you cannot even read porn in there without fear of getting raided. Also, while LeShoure got popped in Michigan, he managed to get popped in Western Michigan, where much of the 40% who do voted against Medical Marijuana seem to reside. Both should have known better, and now both are probably have to pay the piper and deal with fines, suspensions, and mandatory piss in the cup moments.

Thanks a lot Deetroit, thanks for be too cool for school and allowing our pro athletes to think it is okay to use pot instead of the prescription pain killers that Ryan Leaf likes to endorse. Now we will never know if LeShoure is the second coming of Ricky Williams.

 Oh, wait a minute...

muskrat stew

My dog likes to build a nest in my dirty clothes pile.

He sure looks comfortable nestled in with my dirty socks and boxers. I do not know what it is about the toejam and taint aroma that appeals to him so much. Then again, this is the same little dumbass who like to roll around in dead muskrat.

The other day, I had to chase the stupid mother fucker up the river bed, pulling my big white plumber's butt up and over my neighbor's wire fence via a handy slanted tree trunk, then stomping through a shitton of pickers and brambles, totally fucking up my good pair of jogging pants, to find him rolling gleefully in a pile of stinky remains of one one the world's most stink-assiest of creatures.

Climbing back through the brambles and pickers and back up over the stupid wire fence via the slippery tree trunk whilst holding the stinky little bastard under one arm like some big loaf of turd bread was not the most pleasant experience.

It must have shown on my face, because the little stinky fucker did his best to be a "good boy" as I hosed him off with whatever soaps and tinctures I could get my hands on. All the yelling and cursing I was doing probably also had something to do with the injured shivering baby seal look of his in the doggy torture chamber that is also known as a bathtub. Some of what I said was out of worry for him, being so close to the river and all, but most of the profanity that came out of me was out of anger for having to deal with his stinky dumb ass.

My house still smells like mother fucking muskrat.

Apparently, not enough for him though, needing a pile of my dirty underthings to remind him of that one single moment of splendor that he got from rolling around on some dead animal's carcass.

Shit, i really need to do my laundry.

The Contenders...

It's Oscar Week, but who really gives a fuck.

I certainly do not. Probably because I have not seen any of the nominated movies yet.

Wait a minute... was Transformers 3 nominated?

No?

That Harry Potter Movie, that was pretty awesome in 3D,  that had to be nominated, right?

No?

Google, google, google....

A Silent Film and  "Purple Rose of Cairo" ripoff are the front runners?

 WTF???

Actually, they both seem kind of interesting. I will have to put them on my Netflix Que. Somewhere near the middle, between some HBO Series that those assholes won't put on streaming and my ex-girlfriend's Japanese Horror Picks that I never removed because that seemed kind of cool (unlike Dawson's Creek which got tossed pronto).

So Anyway...

I will probably still watch the Oscars, not because I have a vested interest in who the fuck is going to win, but because I happen to like celebrity award shows. Don't you judge me. We all have our kinks. I probably will not pay to close attention though. But, it will most definitely be on  and I will probably look up once in a while to catch a glimpse of some of my favorite celebrities.

Tom Cruise and his cybernetic teeth....

Bradgelina with their vacant, hollow stares...

The token shot to some old fart that has been in just about everything...

This Chick, I Hope...

It is something to do on a Sunday Night anyway. Something to talk about around the old water cooler. Figuratively speaking of course. Who the fuck wants to hang around the water cooler like some weirdo? Especially when you do not even work in the office where you get your water from.

Super Commercials

Yet another Super Bowl has come and gone. Congratulations New York, way to beat Tom Brady and the Patriots into submission with solid defense and clock control.

But enough about the game.

Everyone knows that we watch the Super Bowl for the Commercials. In fact, I take my piss break during the game so I do not miss a single one of these 90 second long  celebrations of our hyper-consumerist society. Hooray for buying stuff! That is the only way we can be sure that the terrorists never win.

Sadly, the Golden Age of Super Bowl commercials has gone the way of the Budweiser Frogs. Back in the good old days, a Super Bowl Commercial was an event. Something that only happened during the Super Bowl and then talked about over the water cooler the next day.

"Hey Did You See that Crazy Orwellian Apple Commercial?"

"No Man, I had to take dump and totally missed it." 

"Dude, you should have turtled it. It was epic."

Nowadays, chances are pretty good that you are going to see these super duper bowl commercials over and over again until they start feeling like that one Daniel Powter Song. Heck, you might even catch the damn thing even before it airs during the big game, like Shatner's final take as the Priceline Negotiator. 

                                       

Is nothing sacred on Madison Avenue anymore?  

I personally found this year's crop of super commercials rather lame. Perhaps it was because I was not drinking during the game, but it did seem that all the ideas seemed a little played out. Coca Cola rolled out the Polar Bears for the umpteenth time, VW went overkill in trying to recreate the magic of its Kid Vader commercial from last year and everyone else seemed to simply throw in a celebrity and an alien and dare call the commercial "super". 

Super Lame that is. 

Okay, so maybe there were a few exceptions.

                                    

This one was pretty funny even though it was a bit sexist. What? Only dudes in denim drive trucks? You need at least one chevy driving chick if you want hope to repopulate the Earth. 

                                    

This other car commercial was also kind of funny. Take that you fucking vampires. I am glad they all blew up instead of  getting all rainbow sparkly like they do in Twilight.

                                    

Okay, I actually did not see this commercial (I was taking a dump) but checking out on You Tube Later, I thought it was pretty funny albeit both Ricky Gervais and Zombies are soo 2011. 

                                

This was, by far, the funniest commercial to come out during the Super Bowl. This commercial has everything: A Chinese Girl, a politician, rice patties, blatant xenophobic thinking. Budweiser could learn a lot from Congressman Hoekstra.  

I love it when a good plan comes together

For some stupid fucking reason, I decided to stay up until the ass crack of dawn the other night and watch  the A-Team Movie on HBO. I did this because I had way too many other important things to do the next day so I needed to make sure I went to bed at late as possible so I could sleep right through them.

To be fair, I actually kind of enjoyed the beginning where they set up the new versions of the characters which I spent a good portion of my childhood emulating. Sure they were a little off from the originals, but the basic templates werestill there. Liam Neeson made a decent enough Hannibal: the brilliant, cigar smoking leader and Bradley Cooper was at least good looking enough to be Face if not nearly whiny enough.  I thought it was Luke Wilson playing old crazy ass Murdock, but it was actually SharltoCopley, the lead character from District 9. While not as charmingly nutso as the Dwight Schultz (the original Murdock), Copley was okay. As for B.A. Baracas, well nobody can really be B.A. except for Mr.T, but I guess Rampage does a decent job at playing the big tough dude who is afraid of flying even if he was not wearing the appropriate amount of bling. 

Apparently I missed the beginning, where they all meet in Mexico for the first time, but I started watching in time to catch the basic set up. The A-Team, is  a special army task force with a penchant for destroying things without killing people, that goes on a secret (wink, wink) mission to capture some printing plates that are in the hands of the Iraqis. The plan goes off without a hitch, except for the part where the General gets blown up, the plates get stolen and everything is pinned on them.The four get sent off to various military prisons around the country until a CIA spook played by Patrick Wilson hatches a plan with Hannibal to get them all out to get the plates back. 

I know I should have just given up and turned it off after the whole "Flying Tank " scene, but I was compelled to keep watching to make sure that it was going to end as retardly as I thought it was and to see if my hero, Mr. T, was going to make a cameo like the the the original Face and Murdock did during the prison escape scenes. At the very least, I was hoping that  Jessica Biel who was playing a DOD agent/love interest was going to finally show us a little skin. Unfortunately, neither of these happened, and the plot just continued to become more confusing and convoluted like it was written by J.J. Abrams after a crack binge. The whole complex  shell game aspect of the final plan (hatched by Face for some stupid fucking reason) tried to be smarter than it really was and even after several more bong hits and a bottle of beer, I still could not suspend my disbelief enough to not roll my eyes at the inevitable outcome. 

Here are some problems I had:

1: B.A. is afraid to fly yet he has no problem rappelling down a 50 story building. 

2: What the fuck happened to the  plane they flew to the cargo ship? Did they just abandon it?

3:Where the fuck is the crew of the Cargo Ship? Who is steering the fucking thing? 

4: Why is Face doing all the Stratergy? His job is to look pretty not plan, that is why he is called Face. Let the dude named after one of History's most brilliant military tacticians come up with the plan. In fact, this is my biggest problem with the movie. It is like they felt they had to cater to Mr.Hollywood Cooper by giving his character a more important role then he deserved. 

5.What wrong with Jessica Beil? Why can't she find any good movies to be in? Perhaps God is not through with punishing her for abandoning Seventh Heaven. . 

6.Why are people dying? People do not die at the hands of the A-Team. Shit just get blown the fuck up and the bad guys jump out of the way before it does.  

 I pity the fool who did not have the chance to grow up with television during the 80's. Those were the the Golden Years my friend and the A-Team, with its glorification of violence and conservative values, was right smack in the middle of it.It was the epitome of the Cold War, where stuff gets blown up but no white people got hurt. To take these characters and to throw them into a story line involving rogue CIA agents, a complicated money laundering scheme and Jessica Biel is blasphemy. 

Origin Story

Of course, all the violence and complicated plot twists and turns can explained away by the fact that this is supposed to be a Origins story. All this is supposed to take place before the A-Team became a ragtag team of paramilitary misfits who roamed the country helping grandmothers and such who are being victimized by gangs of truck driving rednecks. That is fair, I suppose. However, if they ever make a sequel, it better include some nuns, some orphans, a greedy politician, a lawnmower turned into a catapult, and Hannibal better be making all the plans. Also, for the sake of fuck, find a way to get Mr.T to make a cameo. pr, at least put some bling on Rampage Jackson.   

Sexy Bald Man

I think I might be going bald.

I am not positive, I still need to run a few more blood tests and computer simulations, but it does seem like the hair in the middle of my head is refusing to grow back.

I guess I should have realized this sooner, however, during my 20's, I wore a cap, so never noticed and hair recession and then later on in life, because I was living in a tough neighborhood, I shaved my head and got an eye patch. It is only now, having moved to a more gentrified part of town, that I decided to let my hair grow out  and that was when I noticed the distinct horseshoe pattern of nothingness on the top of my head.

Gramp's Fault

This new information startled me. I always figured that at anytime I could, once again, have the mane of a Norse God like I did in college and now I was looking at living the rest of my life as a baldy. I did not want it to end this way.  First off, I needed to get to the bottom of this sudden hair loss. Googling the bitch, I found that several things can cause a handsome motherfucker like me to lose his hair. While my rock star lifestyle may contribute, it appears that the biggest culprit is my damn genes. It turns out that my mom's dad was a baldy as well, I managed to get his X chromosome when I got put together in my mothers womb after my parents banged each other.

Male Pattern Baldness Bitches

The condition is called Androgenic Alopecia and it is brought on from having too much testosterone in your system. Well, that figures. I have always been a virile motherfucker. This extra man juice somehow makes its way up to the scalp and chokes off the hair follicles (probably for looking at them funny) which then causes hair to fall out. Thanks a lot grampa.

Now that I have come to grips with the fact I may be losing my hair, I guess I could do something about it. Turns our there are a lot of solutions. I could go "Shatner" and have hair from my butt stapled to my head, but this costs money and I don't have the same kind of scratch as the Captain. I could also buy some bug juice to rub into my scalp everyday but that seems like a hassle and I don't want my man boobs to get any bigger than they already are.

Balls

Doing further research, I found out that there is only one true cure for baldness and that is to attack the very source of the problem: The Balls. You see, balls produce the testosterone that ends up choking out your follicles. Cut off the man juice supply and your hair has a fighting chance. So, that is why my dog still has all his hair. So, all I gotta do now is wrap an rubber band (this is how they do it in China) tightly around my sack and wait for the family jewels to fall off and then bam! My flowing locks will be back.

After that, I imagine I am going to be beating the bitches off me with a stick.

Preparing for the Apocalypse

Holy Shit, Can you believe that 2012, "the year all the shit goes down", is just around the corner? Finally, we are going to find out if those mother fucking Mayans with their calender knew what the hell they were talking about. I have not been this excited since 1999, when we all thought our computers were going to go berserk and start believing that somehow the world had been been transported to the Victorian Era. But this time, I think the threat is a little bit more real. I mean, these are the mother fucking Mayans we are talking about, an ancient race of stargazers who seemed to know what they were doing when they portended that the world was going to hell in a hand basket sometime during the next winter solstice.

The fucking Mayans man. I don't care what Mel Gibson thinks of them, these were some wise ass mother fuckers who had  booby trapped pyramids, mass virgin sacrifices, and soccer matches that used actual human heads.How the hell could they be wrong about something like this?  And from what I read on the internet and in various books written by guys with psuedo scientific backgrounds, their is enough scientifical evidence to back these wise ass mother fuckers with their doomsday prophecies up.

Any Day Now...

-The Planet's Poles are going to Reverse, causing our lithosphere to suddenly shift, wreaking enough Havoc upon the Earth to give Roland Emmerich a raging hardon.

-A solar flare is going to knock out all of our electronic doodads, plunging us back into the 1940's which will prompt the North Koreans, who never left the 1940's, to attack and enslave the entire free world. Soon, the Earth's resources will be depleted as they attempt to carve the moon into the likeness of Kim Jong il.

-Machines will suddenly become "Aware" and after that, it will just be a matter of time before they start using cyborgs with Austrian accents to enslave humanity and turn them into batteries.

-Apes being used as modern slaves will suddenly make a evolutionary leap and decide to arm themselves and take the planet.  Their demand for Bananas will end up driving the Earth's ecosystem into chaos.

-Jesus finally makes his second showing and then promptly disappears again, leaving the world to fend for itself against the antichrist who turns out to be a famous Hollywood director/actor/producer known for his big budgeted movies that refuse to end. The world shall than plunge into a millennium of darkness under the dark rule of Kevin Costner.  God help us all.

-An radioactive asteroid the size Texas shall plunge to Earth and wipe out Texas. The world will rejoice, but this joy will be short lived as the the Texans come back as flesh hungry zombies. Texas BBQ will take on a new meaning as the zombie scourge spreads across the Earth.

These are just a few of many things that can and will happen as the year of doom draws ever closer so it is time to prepare my friends and get ready to survive the impending apocalypse, even if means killing and eating your neighbor's cat (trust me, it will eventually come to that). Thankfully, since I have been reading Dystopian Fiction for the past 20 or so years, I am more or less prepared to survive the coming months of trials and tribulations.

Here are a few things that I suggest doing as you prepare yourself for the world to be reborn in fire so that you might come out virtually unscathed and set about rebuilding civilizations.

-Water Wings and Helmets: Start wearing these wherever you go, just in case a stray earthquake or tsunami tries to take your ass out. "But BS, I live in Michigan," you might say,"Earthquakes and Tsunamis never happen here!" Bullshit, I say to you, read your Bible and Weekly World News. In these End Times Earthquakes can happen anywhere, especially with the lithosphere all out of whack. Also, Michigan is surrounded by water so if a Earthquake happens, rest assured the Great Lakes are going to to what they can to swallow you up. So, keep those water wings handy my friend.

-Throw away your smartphone: These things are of the Devil I tell you and are becoming way too smart. It will be only a matter of time before they become aware  and try to graft themselves to you in order to use your body as a battery. Toss those creepy talking iPhones in the fire before it is too late my friends.

-Learn to Speak Korean: self explanatory

-Stock up on Bananas: Having enough Bananas on hand will be the only way to keep the monkey overlords satisfied. Since Bananas go bad, if might be wise to get yourself a Banana tree.

-Watch the latest Kevin Costner movie: Keeping this man's film career may be the only way from keeping him from going into politics and turning into the antichrist. Of course, James Cameron might end up taking his place.

-Avoid Texas at all costs

These are just a number of things that you can do to survive the impending doom. Also having a super intelligent dog that you can communicate with telepathically is also helpful, but those kind of dogs are pretty hard to come by.  Just ask David Berkowitz.

Smart Ass Coffee

So, a few short weeks ago, I found myself in Los Angeles for my sisters wedding. Wanting to rack up as many Four Square points as humanely possible, I found myself checking at every taco truck and hipster bar in the Silver Lake area.  The cool thing about Four Square besides allowing your friends to stalk you is that when you "check in" somewhere it also shows you other businesses in the area. One such business that popped up as I was checking in at the local laundry mat Starbucks was a place called Intelligentsia Coffee a few miles up the Sunset Strip.

Intelligentsia...

Intelligentsia...

Intelligentsia...

The name rang a bell and not for the fact that it sounded like something a Russian Commandant would say through clenched teeth during yet another purge.

Intelligentsia.... Coffee

I knew that I had heard of them, but due to the lack of good fresh roast, the timing belt in the engine of my mind was in need of an adjustment. So I did what any red blooded American would do. I asked my smart phone (A Motorola Atrix Holla!) and was directed first to Wikipedia where I picked up my Russian joke and then to a company website geared toward hardcore coffee nerds like me.

It was then when I remembered where I heard that name before, I had watched a billion different videos on Vimeo that they had put out on how to brew the perfect cup of coffee, videos that my smartphone was more than happy to play for me again. "Hey", I thought to myself, "these motherfuckers are kind of famous, I should probably try to check this place out and collect even more Four Square points before I leave town." Good old smart phones and their applications, what the fuck did we do before they came along?

So that Sunday, the morning before my flight, I got up nice and early and headed out towards Silver Lake, my thumb ready and waiting on my map app so that I might not get lost heading down Sunset. I bit of a walk and a short bus ride later, I was there ready to collect my "First Time" Bonus points and taste the sweet nectar of Araby that these uber smart coffee alchemists are supposedly capable of brewing via a ceramic pourover.

I must say that the Kenyan Coffee that I paid six bucks for was superb, leagues ahead of the Laundromat coffee and they did seem to take great care in brewing up the perfect single serving cup of coffee. But, it was not anything better than what I could brew at home using my own fresh roasted beans and my trusty Chemex. Also, it was six bucks, which is probably chicken scratch in a city like L.A., but a small fortune to a Midwesterner like me, especially when you consider fact that my own home brew costs me about fifty cents a cup, if that.

Despite their City Slicker Prices, I am still glad I checked out Intelligentsia in Silver Lake. After a few weeks of drinking cafe coffee (I have been to busy to roast) it helped remind me how good fresh roast is. Also, I totally got the highest score ever on Four Square. Ahh, Social Media Apps... How the fuck did we know what are friends were up to before they came along?

Ranting

Dear Ass Munch,

The douchebag sitting in front of me on the 737. Yeah you, you squat hairy middle aged neanderthal. Thank you for crushing the shit out of my legs the whole way to Atlanta. That was really swell of you. I was just thinking as I was getting the ride to the airport that my legs could use a good crushing and made my dreams come true at 35,000 feet.

I know, it was not enough that you had the fire exit seat which gave your stubby little gorilla legs ample room. No, given the important role that you might have had to play in the event of an emergency, you figured that you had the mother fucking right to really stretch out and make yourself comfortable on the crowded flying bus. Never mind me asking if you could resist leaning back on the account that I am a big ass Scandinavian not built for the teeny tiny seats that can be found on most airlines, I am but mere hoi polloi sitting here in the seat that is not an emergency exit aisle seat. Good for you for stretching out the entire way. The mind numbing pain and annoyance of your seat slapping down on my knees every time you plopped down after draining your hypertonic bladder actually helped take my mind off all that turbulence we experienced while flying over Albuquerque.

So thank you shit head. Thank you.for making this plane ride a memorable experience.

At least your legs crushing gymnastic maneuvers were only mildly annoying when compared to the overt conversationalists sitting behind me on my next flight. I know, riding on the plane is exciting.You get to sit next to total strangers for several hours, get to to know them a little bit and then never see them again.Riding a plane is also scary. Why not stop at the bar and put a few screwdrivers down your gullet before take off? It's not that you are an alcoholic, you are just a nervous flyer right? And I eat chocolate for its potential health benefits. We all may die any second and you are probably not going to remember any of this anyway, so why not give your new bestest friend that you just met and the rest of the passengers sitting next to you a loud narrative on how you managed to lose 35 pounds over the summer eating nothing but cantaloupe. Who gives a shit. Okay maybe your new best friend does. After all, he is a dancer.

But then again, I need to thank you too. You did provide an opening to get to know the cute girl sitting next to me a little bit better. She was already making it hard for me to concentrate on my book more than your annoying voice anyway, and when she looked at me rolled her eyes and smirked during one particular brutal part of your dialogue, we ended up sharing a moment. Then the plane landed, and we went our separate ways probably never to see each other again.

 Ce'st la Vie

Costumer Service

The most popular costumes I have seen this holiday season have been The Black Swan and The Joker from the Dark Knight. Now, the Black Swan I can understand. That movie came out just last Christmas which makes it somewhat relevant. But the Joker? Isn't that a bit dated guys? Sure Heath Ledger's run in with a bottle of pills right after the filming of this pivotal role made this character a bit of an icon, but is it really relevant for dudes to be still emulating him almost four years since the movie came out?

Come On

While Heath Ledger did a great job in the movie and probably deserved the Oscar, his joker is, in my opinion, not any more iconic than Jack Nicholson's or Cesar Romero's take on everyone's second favorite demented clown (Ronald being number one). What my theory is, is that this guys walking around dressed as Joker, thought they did such a great bang up job at it in 2008, they figured they might as well keep at it for the next three years or however long before their demented clown makeup stash wears out.

To me, that is just plain creative laziness.

That would be like me dressing up like Micheal Moore every year just because I happen to kind of sort of look like him anyway.

I admit, that I am not the type that starts planning my Halloween costume in January, but I always make an effort to go as something different every Halloween. Even if it is through together at the last minute with card board, duct tape and various items around the house. At least it is something new and not the same old retreaded idea.

Take note all you bitches who plan on donning that swan outfit again next year. You will be hearing snarky remarks from the guy who should have just come dressed up like Micheal Moore.