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Sunday, December 31, 2006

Should Auld Acquaintance Be... Ah Who Gives A Shit, It's Late...

So I opened the blog window at 7-ish this evening, as I knew I wouldn't be back until way late.

It's now 2:45 in the AM of the new year, January 1st, 2007, which is pretty damned late when you consider the six Guinness consumed on top of a diet this evening that consisted of mere snacks.

This said, the day, briefly:

The wife and I had lunch out at a roadhouse/burger joint type place, then went shopping and picked up odds and ends for the party this evening. We dicked around with cleaning and set-up for the event, and started getting ready around 6:00 in the evening.

Robbb showed up early with some food he'd been nice enough to make, Daveyyojimbo and Blancodeviosa shortly thereafter. We ate a bit, and Anastasia Beaverhouszen and her hubby, Kno1 on the blog here, came by, then Robbb's sister and nephew, who I'd not seen in quite some time.

As we settled in and started snacking and drinking, we waited out our last two parties, which included the matchmaker hairdresser who introduced K and myself, as well as her girlfriend, my own hairdresser, and the Dachshund and her new lady, who just so happens to be Robbb's cousin, who I'd not seen in several years.

Our ladies finally showed and we had a great time, eating and drinking with an eye on the stupid Dick Clark special which featured nearly no Dick Clark, then our own late night Mystery Science Theater rendition of 2001 Maniacs, which proved to be very entertaining with a crowd. We closed our evening with a nice amount of cynicism from Lewis Black with the Red, White And Screwed special that was re-run on HBO.

A good time was had by all, and we called it a late night.

Happy New Year, kids.

Be seeing you.

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Saturday, December 30, 2006

Little Miss SuckShine

Bitching and most importantly, Spoilers ahead!

I have to throw up my hands in defeat on this one, because as much as I tried to get into this film this evening, I just couldn't do it. I'm not going to go into a full review over at the BSL, but I had heard that this film was basically filled with unlikeable characters, and for the most part I had to agree. Don't get me wrong, it had it's moments that made me laugh, but seemed to veer wildly back and forth from quirky dramedy ala Garden State to slapstick wacky bullshit more in the vein of Van Wilder or Wedding Crashers.

I don't know what it is about Greg Kinnear that makes him such a great candidate to play a prick, but I defy you to watch this movie without wanting to sink a hatchet into his fucking head at least once.

The scenes of slow burn sarcasm and hatred towards one another are somewhat fun, and send us in one direction with the film, and then you have the crazy "we're gonna steal a body" sequence, then back to more serious interpersonal drama stuff, and then away we go with the final wacky and completely inappropriate dance number.

Ha ha, ho ho, it is to laugh, as Daffy Duck would put it.

And about that fuckin' dance number, if an eight year old's grandpa was teaching her a buncha sexually suggestive dance moves in weird private sessions for weeks on end, are we laughing because it's weird and inappropriate or simply because we're uncomfortable and don't know what else to do?

Feh.

I also got fished into another weird timesink via Cinemaslave's website, because I recalled Joe saying he had problems with this film as well, and in my travels looking for a review of it written by him online, I found myself on Flixster, which looks to be a Myspace for film, and ended up setting up an account, which can be viewed here, and now I can invite all my friends and we can just e-mail each other if we like a movie and eventually avoid human contact altogether.

It's like some of the Netfux functions, only more pointless, because it's not even connected to my rental activity.

But seriously, I wasted over an hour playing around over there, what the hell?

I can easily see it languishing like some of the other random sites I've joined on a wild hair...for example, Last FM still won't play nicely with my computer, and I finally gave the fuck up, y'know?

I'm beat kids, and we have a bit of prep to do for tomorrow's little get-together, so I'm out.

Be seeing you.

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Friday, December 29, 2006

Books, Music, and Yes, Even Video

I'm swilling down some cheap beer we had in the house tonight, as it was pissing down rain all day and I couldn't be bothered to brave the elements for better provisions. I suppose this would be considered making the most of the time off afforded to me by my unfortunate unemployment, as everyone has encouraged me to do in the past few weeks.

Having read the Barrel Fever collection by David Sedaris over the week in Wyoming, I started another book on the return trip, something I caught cheap from Barnes & Noble around my birthday, a bio of Hank Williams Sr. called Lovesick Blues by Paul Hemphill. It's pretty interesting stuff so far, and the man's only about 16 as far as I've read, I'm curious how quickly the career takes off from there.

Actually, I've already lied to you in the two brief paragraphs above, I just realized that I did indeed leave the humble abode today, foraging for food around the noon hour and also giving the Mulholland Dr. soundtrack a spin, which was something I received for Christmas from the wife. In spite of leaving the house and only driving to and from a burger place's drive-thru, I actually listened to the better part of 20 minutes of the CD, great moody work from Angelo Badalamenti for the lunch rush.

We did basically nothing today, the wife took some time to run errands in the morning, and had lunch with one of her annoying friends that I had no interest in seeing, so that worked out for me. The nice folks at Netfux sent a copy of Luciano Ercoli's Death Walks On High Heels to us the other day, so we watched that, the wife likes the Giallo genre fairly well, what with the mystery element and all, and this one was pretty interesting.

Afterwards the wife ended up taking a nap while I watched some of the TiVo accumulation, including the rest of the Robot Chicken stuff and a movie that'd been bumping around the box for awhile, a gangster film called Layer Cake, starring the Blonde Bond, Daniel Craig, which was pretty decent, though I felt like it might've had one too many twists for its' own good. Definitely worth a look though.

Tomorrow we have to get the dog to the groomer and make a run by the grocery store for some supplies, as we've made plans to have people over for the New Year's holiday. The afternoon will I'm sure be spent cleaning up around the house and making sure things are just 'so' for the party.

Be seeing you, kids.

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Thursday, December 28, 2006

TVLand Part Five

I've been listening to my usual diet of podcasts very sporadically as of late, what with no longer having the eight hour stretch during the miserable day job to kill, so I'm only now getting around to mentioning a few things I've heard lately. I listened to the last few shows on The Subculture Collective feed while we were in Wyoming, they've finally gotten things back to normal, everyone has moved or is recuperating from work-related injuries, go and check them out for all the latest news there. I'd actually like to thank Chad over at The Horror Podcast for the little shout out a week or so ago, he was nice enough to give the blog a little plug in between reviews for several bad horror films, which was cool of him.

The free time of late has made for a nice amount of television viewing that had accumulated on the TiVo while we were out of town, including the last two episodes of last season's Entourage, which will have a complete re-run of the third season on New Year's Eve, which is great, but makes no mention of when the hell the next season begins. This has been very annoying, considering the cliffhanger ending of the last episode.

I also made a point of recording the Robot Chicken marathon that ran on Adult Swim last night, and watched a good deal of those this evening. Fun stuff, though I do sometimes question the particular extended skit they decide to focus on, as a few of them have seemed to drag for my tastes, but overall I really love the show. One of the bits I hadn't seen was the 'what happens during Pikachu's off-hours' skit, which featured disco dancing, drinking and quite a few hoes, as it were.

I visited Daveyyojimbo today, which was fun, although his chronic migraines did put a bit of a kibosh on doing much more than chatting a bit, but we did try to squeeze in a bit of The Short Films Of David Lynch, an interesting assortment of head scratchers from his early career.

The wife's middle sister, who blew off the Christmas trip recently had to of course make a big point of not being bothered to pick up something that we were hoping that she could deliver to their dad for us, which upset the wife to no end, since she's always really cool about trying to be accomodating with her bitchy family. This pisses me off as well, because it's all those weird buttons that the family installed 30 years ago that I have no control over, but would rather she just turn on these people now and then and give them as good as she gets when they get all shitty over such nothing issues. Seriously, can you pick up a small box that was left with their mom, and take it on a plane with you, nevermind the fucking fact that the reason it was at their mother's house was that the sister was expected to go over there and didn't, breaking plans as usual.

Gah, this is why I don't have any family, I couldn't deal with this shit all the time.

Be seeing you.

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Wednesday, December 27, 2006

No One Gives A Shit About Your Screenplay

I spent some time thumbing through the different Christmas gifts I received this afternoon, and now that I've mentioned what a sweet, sentimental nostalgic gift my wife got for me, I'd also like to bring up another gift to counterpoint that side of her. I was also the proud recepient of the SuicideGirls book, which is a fabulous collection of alternative pin-up girls culled from their website. Great stuff for the coffee table, let me tell you.

Having mentioned that, let me move on to what I find to be an amusing arrival in today's mail, a screenplay from a writer looking for investors. K met this guy via someone who wanted her to help them with a fundraiser for a local Christian organization, as she's been involved with many successful events. The event never happened, but this random guy has kept in touch with her via e-mail, asking her again and again about getting together for lunch to discuss the random projects he's trying to work on, which as a husband kinda pissed me off until I saw this dumbass's script and cover letter in the mail today. Changing names to protect the ignorant, the guy has a cover letter with his real name, then a notation of 'aka a pseudonym' that he's writing the script under, which I find puzzling, because if I was trying to make my movie dreams come true, I'd certainly want my own name on it, unless it was a porn film, but this is a religiously-themed film, a Jesus-Joint, if you will, so what gives?

Check it: Looking forward to hearing from you, Bob Joe Steve (aka Steve Smith).

What the fuck? And that's no exaggeration, the guy's pseudonym is literally three first names, for no apparent reason. I also like to mention that considering how devoted most of my time is to movies and all things cinema, I'd be pretty annoyed if the wife is writing checks to make someone else's fucking movie. I'm also amused that this guy met my wife once and now considers her an option to bankroll his pipedreams, as that's all the cover letter really mentions, how he's interested in having lunch with her as he's trying to find funding to get his production company off the ground.

Also in today's post was the Sundance Festival info, which we are to attend this coming January. The wife had attended as a volunteer (what else?) in 2004, which was shortly before I met her, and has been making noise that we should go as normal attendees ever since. We're now comitted to this year, and I'm getting a little excited now that I'm seeing what's on the menu for this year, hell, I want to see Black Snake Moan based on the kick-ass posters alone, but there's also a new Luc Besson film, and all sorts of interesting stuff. Who knows, maybe we can compromise with old Bob Joe Steve and instead of funding his film just leave copies of his screenplay in the bathrooms of everywhere we go when we're there.

We finally got around to watching the much-discussed Grizzly Man film by Werner Herzog this evening, which was pretty interesting, even if it basically painted the guy as a lunatic who tempted fate one time too many. Amusingly, the sweet, sentimental wife that I've talked so much about the past few days announced aloud after two minutes of the guy yammering on about being a 'proud warrior' for the bears in the first scene that she'd have killed him, too.

That's why I love her, ladies and gentlemen.

I'll be writing a review for the BSL tomorrow if possible, head over there now to check out sKincarver's thoughts on Romero's Land Of The Dead.

Be seeing you.

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Tuesday, December 26, 2006

The Yellow, Dead Grass Of Home

We finally got back to town today, safe and sound.

Things had to get all fucky here at the eleventh hour, of course. The Niece and Nephew were both caught throwing snowballs over the 9th floor balcony onto the loading area of the hotel, in spite of the Mother-In-Law having to yell at the Nephew about doing it twice before during the week and feeling sorry for him and not wanting his dad to beat his ass.

Message: Sympathy is for suckers.

The Sister-In-Law decided that we should all go into town and have lunch before we went to the airfield, which would be great except for the fact that 6 of our 9 people had eaten breakfast about an hour and a half earlier, but we decided to humor her, so we drove into town. After circling the town square once and then finally finding a parking spot about two blocks away, we walked back to the burger joint they'd decided on, where she and her family had parked their asses on stools, along with about fifteen other people, which was all the restuarant would seat.

The wife and I shared a unanimous "Fuck this." We left, as we sure as hell weren't about to stand for an hour and watch these fuckers eat, so we went ahead to the airfield to wait for the plane.

We went on the jet with Uncle, Mother-In-Law and everyone's favorite Grandmother, leaving the remaining four to take the King Air, which would put them about 45 minutes behind us, and got the hell out of Wyoming.

We finally got home and unpacked around 5:30 in the evening, and I went to check on the chickens, who all survived our absense, and then K and I did our little Christmas gift exchange. I have to honestly say that she did something for me that I found both touching and depressing at the same time. Several months ago, she and I were looking through my mother's stuff for some pictures for a montage thing for the wedding rehearsal dinner (wow, this was awhile ago, wasn't it?), and ran across a newspaper clipping in which a letter to Santa I'd written at age four had been printed in the local newspaper. For those of you who don't know me personally, I was raised pretty dirt poor, and this letter asked for around four items, all of them listing reasons such as "because my old one is broken", and the letter itself is basically a reminder of how miserably poor and depressing my childhood was.

Actually, that's a lie, my childhood wasn't necessarily miserable, nor depressing, at the time, but now that I look back on things with a more realistic adult view, it kinda sucked a lot, but I digress...

The point of this story was that my wife went and purchased the items from the list and placed them under our tree, along with a photocopy of the letter to Santa, which makes me love her all the more for her sentimentality, and a little nauseous at the same time because of the weird time in my life it conjures up. I wouldn't ever say that I'm ashamed of my origins, because I'm a pretty straightforward person, take it or leave it, but I wouldn't say that they make me happy either, y'know? It's not exactly anything to brag about being raised in a house with no sheetrock in the ceilings and bare rafters showing just because of poor choices your parents made. I love my wife because she has the same sweet sentimental spirit that I cherished in my mother.

But you want to know the best gift, hands down, kids?

A copy of a CD that I've never owned, because I'd had a dubbed tape copy that sKincarver had given me waaay back when he and Daveyyojimbo and I were hanging out a lot. I loved the album unconditionally, and treasure the way it can conjure up emotions and feelings from a time in my life when I was, unbeknownst to me, making friendships that would last a lifetime and survive all kinds of crazy grown-up shit I never dreamed would happen to us. A CD I never got around to buying, and eventually balked at the pricetag of when I ran across it at Best Buy ($16.99? Get the fuck out of here!), a CD I would love to have and never bothered to buy for myself, but had on the old Amazon Wishlist. I'd wanted a copy of it for years, but kept thinking surely I'd run across a cheap used copy, whatever, excuses, excuses, I just never got my hands on a copy of this disc.

Tom Waits - Bone Machine will now at long last be in constant rotation for the next few weeks, I'm certian.

I love you K, you're much better than I deserve, and the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I'm tired kids, it's been a long day, and I'm anxious to be in my own bed for a change.

Watch Tom do his thing.



Be seeing you.

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Monday, December 25, 2006

Merry Christmas, You Bastards, And To All A Good Night

Merry Christmas to all of my usual readers, all eight of you, as well as you who might wander by here on your way to the real sites with Lindsay Lohan's pussy pics.

Seriously, I may mention a lot of dumbass stuff in the course of my daily posts on the blog here, but I actually got a couple hits via Technorati today looking very specifically for 'shaved pussy' and 'Lindsay Lohan'. If you're searching the interweb for shaved snatch on Jesus' birthday, you might need to reconsider your priorities in life.

And I'm saying that as a really, really lousy Christian, and if even I think of it as a cry for help, something may truly be amiss in your life.

Today we got roped into going to the hotel's game room and playing pool with the nephew, which was a fun, though we did have to wait out a family of some Eastern European extraction, who played in teams, the father and one son against the mother and the other son, muttering to one another in some tongue I couldn't discern. Once they finished, I played the boy in two games of pool using no rules other than whatever he needed to let himself win, but hey, he's eight, what the fuck do I care? I did have to put a stop to him trying to turn on a television in a weird multi-tasking attempt, because he'd drug my ass down to the lobby to play pool, if he wants to watch TV, there's about 6 televisions in the suite upstairs.

We ordered room-service for lunch and chilled out in the dining area for a bit after pool, the nephew cornering Uncle and dragging him downstairs next while we ate.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the room, the wife napped and I managed to watch the other half of my Lamberto Bava double-feature, Macabre, which started off kinda slow, but was actually pretty engaging once it got going. I'll definitely be adding a review for the BSL soon, and while we're mentioning the Big Suck Loser, there's a couple of recent reviews over there for any interested parties that've been posted over the past week or so, give it a look.

I also re-watched The Others, something that I'd bought on sale God knows how long ago, and decided to bring along just to see if I could finally get around to re-watching it, as I remembered really enjoying it, but didn't recall a great amount of detail about it. For example, I had the idea that it took place in the States during the Civil War, it's actually England during the first World War, the message being that I suck at history.

We elected to pass on the maid service today, which when the two housekeeping people invade the suite turns things completely on their ear. The dog goes apeshit, both Grandmother and the Mother-In-Law wander around carrying their purses from room to room, because they're both convinced that the fucking maids only get this job to supplement their menial income with purloined goods from the unsuspecting guests. Grandmother was beefing Sunday that "It shouldn't take them so long to clean the rooms, they've been here over an hour", which tells me that she somehow knows how long it takes two small Mexican women to clean an eight-room suite?

They decided this morning that they didn't want the housekeeping crew in the suite, because they were so disruptive, which made me finally break down and ask why the hell they stay at a place with all these amenities and then bitch when they try to do their jobs?

It's apparently not that they mind, but they just don't want the service every day.

Why they didn't have this epiphany three or four grousey days ago, I have no idea.

We had a completely non-Christmasey dinner in the hotel this evening (not a turkey to be seen), and then came back to the room and started packing for tomorrow's return to Texas.

I can't wait to get the fuck home, even though I've found the past week relaxing in spite of all my carrying on about the in-law drama. I'm just ready to be in my own bed and make sure the house is secure and that the chickens are still alive.

Be seeing you.

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Sunday, December 24, 2006

Only One More Freezing Your Ass Off Day 'Til Christmas...

What gift does everyone wants to find under the tree this year? What's the gift that keeps on giving?

Lindsay Lohan's shaved pussy, apparently. In the past two days, I've gotten hits galore based on a post three months ago about a link to pics of her crotch, which I find odd, considering the time of year.

I know it's red, but that doesn't automatically equal Christmasey, does it?

Maybe closer to New Year's, as an early "Not going to end up like that bitch" kinda resolution, maybe, but Christmas?

C'mon.

Today was as uneventful as Friday, meaning that after a mid-day meal, I was able to retire to the room and enjoy some recreational television and not be bothered with all the family rigmarole, which is what has so far been the real killer on this trip. I can handle the family in small doses, but not having an entire room to ourselves besides the actual bedroom is a tad frustrating, as I feel drug into whatever is happening elsewhere in the suite when I leave the safety of the bedroom for a soda.

In the true spirit of the season, the wife took a nap and I watched a Lamberto Bava thriller called A Blade In The Dark.

Uncle and I ended up running into the Brother-In-Law while downstairs shortly before we had to leave for town to have dinner, so we had a few beers and some sushi from the bar, which was really good, I may have to try and check into the sushi a bit further once we get back home.

We trekked our asses into town this evening for dinner at a place called The Blue Lion, which was pretty decent, though we seemed to reach a weird spot in the meal when the kitchen got completely backed up and we were waiting a bit for the actual main course, which had everyone getting antsy, as we wanted to get the fuck on with things.

Back at the hotel, we let Brother-In-Law read all of us 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, which is their family tradition, which was amusing if only because Grandmother was flipping out because Uncle, who happens to be 50, and probably already knows how that story ends, wasn't in the room and was going to miss it. She went and drug him from his bedroom and we all settled in for a long winter's story, and everything was right with her world.

Seriously, the elderly...I dunno, man.

Tired, off to bed so Santa Claus can come.

Be seeing you, Fat Man.

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Saturday, December 23, 2006

Only Two More Freezing Your Ass Off Days 'Til Christmas...

I have to tell you something in sincere honesty, my Dearest of Bastards, all seven of my throngs of readers, my teeming masses of interweb passersby.

I came perilously close to flinging myself from a moving vehicle this afternoon, because that seemed like a better offer than the fate that awaited me within the car.

K and I did indeed get saddled with the elderly this morning, so after she was finished with her spa whatever that she had this morning, we had to dick around for the extra hour and a half that it took Grandmother and the Mother-In-Law to get their shit together to head into town. I knew things were spiralling out of control as the peanut gallery from the backseat yammered on about this or that, relatives that I've never even heard of, worries about how Uncle was doing with his ski-lessons, just any kinda weird random topics. Of course by this time we had to make allowances for Grandmother's every four hours or so feeding schedule, so we went immediately to a restuarant whose name I won't bother to name or link to because they sucked and should be destroyed. The waiter was waay to busy trying to pacify a table of people who were bitching about every fucking thing that came to their table to be able to do much for us, and had to be asked for everything, drink re-fills, napkins, anything. Fuck that place.

Then the elderly decided that they were ready to shop til they dropped, quite literally. We ended up in a Coldwater Creek store, which was as boring as the average women's clothing store is to a guy, possibly moreso. The Mother-In-Law seems to have forgotten that we have to lug anything she buys onto a tiny little sardine can of a plane for the return trip, and bought 8 large bags of stuff that can be had in their catalogs and mailed to your doorstep, just because she can. Grandmother is weirdly antsy, wondering aloud where her daughter is any time she gets out of her eyesight, which is driving me nuts, since we're talking about her being like 20 feet away and she's losing her shit about her location, y'know? Mother-In-Law starts trying to pay out and Grandmother is getting restless by this point, so K went to fetch the suburban and pull up closer to the store, so I didn't have to skate these two older gals across two intersections to the vehicle. K was gone about five minutes, the salesclerk was still taking her sweet fucking time ringing things up and Grandmother starts bugging me to take her to the car "...because I just saw her drive by"

I elected to not argue the point that there may actually be more than one white fucking suburban in the entire town, and walked her to the front door, only to spy K across the intersection still trying to jockey the vehicle out of her parallel parking spot. I assured her that I'd get her settled in a moment, and left her by the door, went back and gathered the first load of the Mother-In-Law's shit up and went and deposited it in the vehicle, which was now double parked across the street from the store. Went back, grabbed the rest of the stuff as well as my Mother-In-Law and escorted both women and the remaining parcels across the street and into the suburban with no hassles or any parking tickets.

Of course now the elderly are finished shopping, and so are we by default, though we did manage to stop in at a used book store in the way back, Mother-In-Law buying literally piles of books about the area and town history, I did manage to find a used copy of Charles Burn's Black Hole compilation for $12.00, which I had to wrestle away from the Mother-In-Law, who was hellbent on buying me something.

I figure she's blown more than enough on me with this trip, and managed to buy my own book, which I then forgot on the counter while trying to clear Grandmother out of the doorway of the store, oblivious to the fact that she was completely blocking people from entering. Luckily it took us long enough to load everyone's ass back in the vehicle that the clerk ran outside and caught me to give me the book.

We made it back to the hotel with about an hour before having to make the trek back into town for dinner at The Gun Barrel Steak and Game House, which was a pretty good meal compared to last night and today's lunch, but let's face it, we were all still pretty full from lunch.

Finally back at the hotel and in my jammies, I'm going to knock this out early and chill out in bed and watch some tube.

Be seeing you.

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Friday, December 22, 2006

Only Three More Freezing Your Ass Off Days 'Til Christmas...

This area is amazingly trippy, the clouds drifting low enough to touch the top of the peaks behind the hotel, the slow steady snow that fell all day until around five in the afternoon, it's quite an adjustment for this flat desert living boy.

The rest of the family, the sister-in-law and her brood, that is, all went skiing for the bulk of the day, while Grandmother, the Mother-in-law and Uncle all kinda did their own thing, which with K off for a spa day left me to my own devices. I was able to enjoy an entire afternoon alone in the room with the entire series of The Office, which culminates in a Christmas Special, which was fairly appropriate, I thought. The main thing intruding on this was the maids, who entered the suites like a home invasion and had the dog going apeshit the entire time they were in the room, but she thankfully calmed down once they moved on to the next bedroom. I snagged a bottle of wine and had about half a bottle whilst enjoying my televisionary repast, relaxing and just generally enjoying my time alone.

The freakiest part of the maid incident was when I heard them ring the doorbell twice, then a third time, and then Grandmother calls out to the Mother-In-Law that she can't find the door to answer it.

These rooms aren't that sprawling, folks. I'm kinda scared for her sometimes.

The Yorkie has made a pretty good adjustment to things, considering how she was basically a shaking mess, as she is when you drive with her in the car, only this was for the entire duration of the plane trip here. She's fairly well acclimated to the new series of rooms, though still doesn't know what to make of the group of people I'm sure she thinks we now live with.

We ate in town this evening, braving the 12 degree weather to eat at the Snake River Grill, which was a nice meal, but didn't actually hold a candle to last night's here in the hotel, if you want to know the truth.

The wife and I are planning a trip to town tomorrow to see what kind of shopping we can find, with the Mother-In-Law threatening to join us, which will probably also entail trotting out Grandmother as well, which can be a little tricky, considering that our shopping agendas may not have anything to do with what the elderly have in mind. This was a bit of a chore during The Cruise back in July, so I'm crossing my fingers that some sort of complication will monkey-wrench that idea, but if not, I guess we can suck it up and muddle through.

Be seeing you

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Thursday, December 21, 2006

Only Four More Freezing Your Ass Off Days 'Til Christmas...

Blogger is out of Beta, see what's new!

Who gives a shit?

We got up this morning, tied up loose ends around the house, made sure the chickens were sorted, picked up K's car from the shop, then packed.

While the rest of the family seems prepared to shop and ski their little hearts out, I personally brought about four issues of Video Watchdog, three books and a couple issues of Juxtapoz for good measure, these people will be lucky to spring my ass from the room for anything more than meals for the next week. Shit, I even drug along a handful of DVD's, just in case there was fuck-all on the telly, which usually seems to be the case in hotel rooms, I mean, shit, I've ended up watching that fucking Hannah Montana show while trapped in a hotel on more than one occasion, just because there was nothing else on.

We flew out of Midland at close to 1:30 in the afternoon, with a two hour flight in the jet that gained us an hour in the process, so we arrived in Jackson Hole, Wyoming at around 3:00 their time. A quick drive through the town proper and in an odd u-shaped route that led us to Teton Village, home of our lodgings, the Four Seasons Resort. The wife had mentioned that we had basically a floor to ourselves, which I envisioned meaning a normal hotel floor, with your normal hallway set-up, with just our party staying on it. Instead, we have a private elevator that your keycard allows access to and which opens onto a main gathering area, a communal kitchen and television area, then a hallway accessible only from the main area that leads to the individual rooms, it's possibly the most fabulous accommodations I've ever enjoyed. Seriously, the fucking kitchen is nicer than the one in our house.

We got settled and had a fabulous dinner in the Westbank Grill downstairs, before retiring to the rooms to unpack and settle in.

Since we're in a relatively snow-bound area in a sprawling hotel, I'm planning on watching The Shining at my earliest convenience.

There's threats of shopping tomorrow, but I doubt that the mother-in-law will be up to it if there's any truth to the intermittent snow that the weather channel is promising, so I expect a lazy day.

Be seeing you.

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Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Only Five More Freezing Your Ass Off Days 'Til Christmas...

In our efforts to lock the house down for the time away, we went and grabbed scratch for the stupid chickens this morning, as well as getting cash for the trip, mailing off bills that we don't want late, a lot of general errands so we can relax once we make it to Wyoming.

We also went into Barnes and Noble to pick up some reading material for the trip, and I came perilously close to having a conniption on two different occasions within the store, once when a woman and her two 'tweens were standing in the middle of the magazine section and mock-arguing about something important to them that meant absolutely nothing at all to me, and blocking up the entire area with their stupidity. After basically having to shove my way forcibly past them, as they were unaware that they were actually in the main thoroughfare of a bookstore chain and not their fucking kitchen, I was thwarted in my attempt to gain escape from the store once we'd made our way through the check-out line by two fat fuck housewives who'd evidently made their own purchases, then taken a single step back from the registers and dropped the bags to the floor and prepared to exchange entire life stories with each other, again ignoring the fact that they were in a public place and not the den of their homes.

Merry Christmas, get the fuck out of my way or Santa will be looking for the chimney of the hospital to drop off your gifts this year, bitches.

We leave tomorrow midday for Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and are taking two private planes for the occasion, because the family all packs as if we're going for a few months rather than five days. This is in spite of the fact that the middle sister and her husband and son have now dropped out of the trip, because they suck. Not that I'll miss them particularly, but they've managed to make the mother-in-law feel bad because they'll be here alone for the holiday. We will be sneaking the Yorkie into the hotel, against my better judgement, but I'll be damned if we'd leave our little child-surrogate behind for the holidays.

I'm debating loading up the iPod just for the hell of it, since I obviously don't have as much free time to listen to shit while I'm working, what with the unemployment and all, I've been giving a few things a listen whilst blogging my little heart out. I've found that this isn't exactly conducive to proper intake of the programs, since I'm trying to listen to the shows as well as compose this bullshit that you're reading right now. I have made time for the last few Reel Horror Podcasts, and the Pickled Embryo episode about David Cronenberg, and the usual stuff from the (Cool) Shite crew, but that's about it.

The past few days I've managed to squeeze in a couple of movies in the evenings, one being a request from the wife for Poltergeist of all things, and today the long-TiVo'd copy of Derailed finally got a day in court. I would like to do a full review for the BSL of the Poltergeist at a later date, possibly while I'm out of town, but my main impression upon revisiting the film was that the little boy in the film had these crazy beaver teeth should have been more than sufficient to protect him from the evil tree when it attacked him through his window, and the wife was completely shocked that the parents were sitting around burning one in their bedroom while the kid was getting freaked out by the creepy-ass clown in his own room.
Derailed was actually something of a pleasant surprise, because for the first 30 minutes or so I was rather unimpressed, and they managed to pull me back in for the climax of the story, even if it was a little on the far-fetched side, and any film with Vincent Cassel in it will usually get my benefit of doubt on general principal, I love that guy.

I'm out, I'll need the rest for the big trip tomorrow.

Be seeing you.

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Tuesday, December 19, 2006

So We're Going To Be Leaving Shitty Weather For Even Shittier Weather?

The West Texas weather on this past Sunday was pleasant enough for one to wear shorts comfortably, and yesterday was ball freezing cold, now today, it's freezing cold and pissing down rain, with no end in sight.

And we fly to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the holidays on Thursday, which has a high that day of 30-something, with a low in the evening being a projected 7 fucking degrees.

I think the mother-in-law is actually trying to kill us, for reasons unknown.

Since I find myself with an abundance of free time lately, I've been loitering more than usual on the interweb and found myself looking for several items on Amazon. I also found myself rating items, telling them what type of shit I've bought recently, all in the quest to "improve my recommendations" that they offer with an unflagging devotion to maxing out my credit card.

My conclusion? Their recommendations are for movies, with no rhyme or reason whatsofuckingever.

Witness:

Lewis Black - Black On Broadway = Recommended because you purchased: Lewis Black - Luther Burbank Perfoming Arts Center Blues

Makes sense, right? But wait...

Syriana = Recommended because you rated The Hills Have Eyes

Huh? Let's try that again, shall we?

U2 Vertigo 2005 - Live From Chicago = Recommended because you rated Bukowski - Born Into This

Hmmn, okay, I think Bono made an appearance in the Bukowski thing, that makes a little more sense...Next.

The Pretender - Season 4 (!) = Recommended because you rated Napoleon Dynamite

What the fuck, over? Did Jarod 'pretend' to feed a fucking llama in episode sixteen of the fourth season of the show, thus the Napoleon connection? Who's writing this shit, anyway?

Eight Below = Recommended because you rated Wedding Crashers (Uncorked Widescreen Unrated Edition)

Because horny scoundrels and nympho daughters equals my interest in Paul Walker and a bunch of sled dogs to some computer somewhere.

Also randomly connected for me by Amazon were Team America: World Police and The Machinist, Deep Blue Sea and the re-make of House On Haunted Hill, as well as Akeelah And The Bee and The Proposition?!?

Laurence Fishburne spelling bee film and dark western featuring Guy Pearce, yeah, that's practically the same film, I see where they're going with this...

Based on the above collective commonalities and interests, it's obvious that I will buy anything that has actors in it, was filmed on celluloid, or can be compressed onto a shiny disc and mounted within a plastic box.

Thanks for tailoring your service to my needs, Amazon.

Be seeing you.

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Monday, December 18, 2006

Spreading Christmas Cheer And Stuff

I picked up the final check today, and dropped off the keys to the store, saw no one save for the counter lady who made the exchange with me.

The wife and I had spent the morning addressing and sealing some 300 Christmas cards, so I dropped them in the post and ran by the bank to deposit the check. As it stands right now, if I'm making minimum payments on the credit cards for the next month or so, I actually have enough money in the bank to float for about two months before I start to run short of cash to pay my bills, which is good to know since I won't have anymore money coming in right now.

K and I went to meet Robbb for lunch, afterwards she split to drop a few items off at the Salvation Army, and he and I ran his errands in the afternoon, as he had one day off to try to squeeze in all his Christmas shopping. I was operating under the assumption that I was done with my own Christmas shopping, but since we randomly ended up in a new Christian emporium looking for a gift for Robbb's mother, I ended up buying something else as a last minute early gift for the wife. Thankfully, she collects a lot of different stuff, so I have options when shopping for her, and the little Willow Tree figurines were heavily stocked at this store.

I grabbed this one, called The Promise, newlyweds that we are, I thought it was nicely symbolic and appropriate.

The Big Suck Loser has indeed been updated with two new reviews over the weekend, for some Christmas-themed horror for those of you who'd rather go a different route than the usual Charlie Brown Christmas. I see more to come before the week is out, since I have nothing but time right now, if nothing else, maybe I can fill sKincarver's inbox with a bunch of reviews that he can trickle out every few days or so just to keep things fresh over there during the holidays.

Be seeing you.

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Sunday, December 17, 2006

Still Nothing Happening, Actually Even Less So, If You Don't Leave The House

This will have to be short and sweet, becuase I have basically nothing to say about things today.

I'm also sleepy as hell, with just a little buzz, which is annoying, considering that I've been on the gin and Juiced Rockstar all evening, which should be bringing me up, but to no avail. I may have to call it an early night tonight.

Woke up late, watched a few things on television, including a little something from Netfux, the Terry Zwigoff directed Art School Confidential, which was a nice nostalgic look at what I loved about Daniel Clowes in the early nineties. Some of the plot made me feel like he felt forced into tying up loose ends with his story, while most of the first bit was more of the odd vignettes of the characters being pretentious twats. Since I have fuck-all else to do as of late, I'm going to try and turn out a review for it for the Big Suck Loser, which right now should have at least one, possibly two new reviews up for your boredom.

The season finale of Dexter was an pretty damned amazing, though from what I'm reading in the first book, probably varies greatly from how the book ends. One of the best sequences of the show was when Sergeant Doakes, who has long had a suspicion of Dexter hiding something, sucker punches him and Dexter avoids his next move, reacting instinctively and pinning his arm flat to his own chest while reaching up and pinching his windpipe with his other hand in retaliation!

The first eleven episodes can be seen right now at Your TV Links, and I'm certian tonight's finale will be up within a few days.

I'm out kids.

Be seeing you.

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Saturday, December 16, 2006

Nothing In Particular Going On, But A Full Day Nonetheless

I ran the Meals On Wheels route with the wife this morning, something she usually does once a month, which was an interesting experience. Several of the people had a strangely pissy attitude as they took the food, as if the service they signed up for was an inconvenience to them on a Saturday morning.

Odd.

We also ran by Toys R Us to pick up a bike that was being assembled for one of the children as an early Christmas gift, since we won't be in town for the actual holiday.

We had lunch, and then rounded up the niece and two nephews to take them to an afternoon performance of Suessical The Musical, which was fun in spite of trying to wrangle three kids that aren't my own. The older boy, age six, had a bit of a cough, but was polite enough to cover his mouth each and every time he coughed, which still irritated the 50-something couple in the row ahead of us. As they left at the intermission, I was ready for them to say something shitty, as they had cut a couple looks back our way during the show, but they said nothing, and actually didn't come back after the intermission.

Sorry folks, you attend a children's event during cold and flu season, what the fuck were you expecting?

After dropping the children back off at their respective houses, we chilled out at the house and watched a couple of movies via the nice folks at Netfux. One movie was something that I'd rented at least twice before and never got a decent disc that would play from our local video store, Human Traffic, a movie which was a fun hodge-podge of a few other movies, somewhat charmingly re-hashed.

We also watched an Edward Burns film that had slipped by me, The Groomsmen, which was another of his Irish-American ensemble family pieces, and I liked it a lot, even though a lot of his catalog tends to have a familiarity that borders on self parody. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy as a writer and director, but a lot of his work has the same predictable comfort of a well worn in shoe, and you kind of know what to expect, with a few variations. The dvd cover (which I can't be arsed to dig up on the net, click on the movie name for the pic on their site) makes the film look a lot like the film Slackers or some other college sex-romp, but it is actually a more seriously tinged dramedy, so I went with the film poster you see here.

I did speak to someone from the flowershop this evening, who told me that the boss is apparently going around under the impression that she fired me, which is pretty amusing, considering I told her that I didn't respect her management and was leaving. Same end result, mind you, but not exactly a "clean out your desk!" moment from her end, but oh well, I figure whatever she needs to tell her remaining employees to make them think she's in control. If asked, I'll tell any of them the truth about it, and they should know me well enough by now to know that I pretty much speak my mind, and wouldn't bullshit them.

I'm off to bed, more to come tomorrow.

Be seeing you.

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Friday, December 15, 2006

The First Day Of The Rest Of My Unemployment

So I quit.

I went in this morning, clocked in and asked her what we were working on.

She asked me if I'd called her, and did I still need to talk to her about anything? I said, are you sure you have the time, and she said that she did.

Then let's dance.
I may have to simply shorthand a lot of this, just because it's all a moot point now, but bear with me.

I explained that I wasn't particularly offended by things until she gave me the 'no excuses' line in her stupid little note the other day, which is what I think her justification of special treatment of different employees is, an excuse. She countered with how happy the owners were with both her and The Lifer, which I assured her was quite wonderful for them, but rotten for the rest of us.

She then rattled off a litany of 'new rules' that I was to adhere to, including answering the phones for the front end people (who most certianly aren't going to be doing my job for me while I do theirs), and that she was tired of me 'isolating' myself with the iPod Agador Spartacus, so I was not to wear it in the store anymore. It seperated me from everyone, and she wanted me to be a part of the team.

Since you can't force me to like people, I decided at this point that I was probably done, but decided to push her a bit more.

I asked her if I'd come to her as a new-hire six months ago, with an availability of 3-4 days a week, 8AM -5PM, instead of working 6 days a week, from 8AM until whenever she decided we were done like I had five years ago, would we still be having these same problems? She actually said probably not, but that wasn't how it had happened, and that wasn't the availability I was hired with, regardless of how I had asked to change it. You might be saying to yourself, really? Yes, she is that stubborn.

She went on to tell me how I know nothing about floral management, and that I don't understand anything about her job, etc., etc.

I'm not sure how long this went on, as I was weighing my own words for effect, so I waited for her to finish, and then said the following:

"I think since you've decided that I'm going to be doing all this stuff or else, and since I've made it abundantly clear to everyone that I have no respect for you or your management style, I'd probably be better off leaving at this point, because nothing here will ever change."

"I think that would be best." she said.

"I know it will, and by the way, good luck with your party this morning."

I stopped by the desk, grabbed my photos and coffee mug, and a button from a former employee which reads "I'm sorry if I look interested, because I'm not" (a gift from someone who ironically quit because she wanted to work part-time as well and wasn't allowed to) and clocked out and walked away, without a word to any of the poor souls stuck there trying to play catch-up for the rest of the day. I take no small amount of satisfaction in having left her in a bind, because she certianly seemed to want to prove to me how little I was needed around the store, and how easily I could be replaced. Fuck a recommendation letter.

I'll drop off my keys when I pick up my final check tomorrow or Monday.

Not sure what I'm doing next, but I do have a nice little vacation to look forward to right now, and the wife thinks I made the right decision for my own sanity, and stands behind me on this, which means a lot.

Be seeing you.

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Thursday, December 14, 2006

Who Knows, Maybe After Some Venting, I'm Just Over It...

The whole thing with the boss kinda wore on my mind a lot of the day, but after last night's venting and some discussion with the family and mother-in-law, as well as leaving a message for her on her machine saying that I really appreciated her calling me back, I'm glad we could talk this out like friends and colleagues, I think I may be completely over the idea of fighting about this, unless I walk into her being shitty about it tomorrow. I would've called and spoke to her at the office, but she would've only been pissed off because I was bothering her, since they're so busy that any type of human courtesy goes by the wayside.

I also fielded commentary and e-mails to the effect that I am probably to blame for most of the problems with the boss, but just want to quit and am fishing for excuses, and that she's given me "so many chances" because she doesn't want to see me leave, which, in reverse order, I resent the idea that someone managing a business so ineptly is giving me the 'chance' to do any fucking thing, and yes, I am a shitty employee, but do honestly enjoy the creativity of the job, and enjoy doing it.

I just don't have any interest in doing it 5 or 6 days a week, for 12 hours a day just because we are perpetually understaffed through no fault of mine.

I decided to make an attempt at trying to enjoy my life while not trapped at the workplace today, so I went to the Christmas Party at lunch with the wife and her co-workers (which was a little wierd, lunch and handshakes and everyone moved on, why bother, y'know?), and then went and did what I can only hope is the last of my Christmas shopping. I picked up the last of the wife's stuff, and then wrapped everything this afternoon, running out of wrapping paper on the final item, which I took to be a sign that I was done with Christmas for the year.

In the spirit of the season, we watched a couple of Christmas classics tonight, the newly re-released Black Christmas ( I wanted the wife to see it before we check out the stupid re-make), and a weird little flick called Christmas Evil. Fun stuff, and I like the dark spin on the holiday, it feels quite appropriate considering how things have been going lately.

Be seeing you.

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Wednesday, December 13, 2006

This Whole Situation Stinks Out Loud And Sucks On Paper

I don't particularly have any zest for the writing this evening, but here's an overview of the day.

I went in this morning, expecting to get screwed into working late, and was unsurprised when it happened. I had made a hair appointment because I've been getting shaggy, so I took an early lunch and when I got back from the shearing, I found a little form letter from the boss telling me that we were getting into "bust our humps time" and would be working late for the rest of the week, "no excuses", and that no one would have a day off next week between the 18th and the 23rd, which I was expecting anyway.

As the day wore on, I told her I needed to run home and check on the chickens if we were going to be working late, which she said was fine (and I was going one way or the other, sorry) and I did that and at some point in the evening, it occurred to me that The Lifer, as I think of her, wasn't at the shop, and had left at her usually scheduled 2:00 in the afternoon.

The Lifer started working at the shop in high school, and that was 34 years ago. This fact, and that her schedule was between her and the boss and none of my concern was what the boss informed me when I asked her "Um, hey, where's The Lifer, anyway? How'd she dodge our late night fun?"

This where I sense that our communication breaks down, because the boss hasn't the foggiest idea how one employee, oh, let's call him me could possibly have a problem with having his own personal availibilty to the store completely ignored, yet another person given preferential treatment simply because she's had no more ambition than to stick it out with the same shitty job she started in high school.

In my experience in the average business, you treat all your employees the same, or someone gets the fuck sued. I also understand how one might use seniority as a tie-breaker if two employees are asking for the same day off, but not when you are talking about how many hours they want to work, period. Availability refers to how often I'm available to be at your store, not how often you can decide to let me work, and usually more than I want to. I think the main problem with my wanting to spend less time there is that when I first took the job, I was pretty desperately strapped for cash, and was actually working 8-5:30, six days a week, and this has gradually dropped back to five days, then four once the wife and I started getting serious and I wanted to spend more time with her, and the boss refuses to accept the idea that not only do I not need her money as much as I once did, I am downright offended that she doesn't take the hint and hire someone new. With Myspace gone, we're officially down two designers again, and had been down one for the better part of the year, in which time we could easily hire and attempt to train a novice, but we just continue to take applications and not call anyone back.

So the boss and I have words, quite openly, in front of the rest of the assembled designers, and she finally invited me to take it up with our owners if I don't like how she manages her store, or I was told that I could leave if I didn't like it.

I told her that I did so enjoy our open door policy, wherein we could discuss any subject without fear of reprisal.

I wasn't really thinking about calling the owners, except for the fact that I called her at her home once I got in this evening, saying hey, I'd really like to talk to you a bit more, left my number in case she didn't have it on her caller ID, and said I'll talk to you soon, and she didn't even bother to return my call.

I do believe that I'll be leaving another message on her machine tomorrow, something to the effect of how much I appreciated her calling me back, and that I'm glad we could work things out like adults. Then I'll go into work on Friday and she probably won't talk to me, like a wife who gives you the silent treatment when she's angry, which has happened before, and when I questioned her about it, she actually said that she thought I should have to approach her, because of how I'd acted, which I find incredibly mature and a hallmark of good business.

If someone on your team does something you don't like, you freeze them out as you would on the playground, circa fifth grade. She even gave Myspace the same cold shoulder last week when she was pissed off at her, and when I asked if maybe she should be above that and approach her as her boss, and ask what the fuck was up with her behavior, she informed me that when I'd been in the business as long as she had, I'd deal with people differently too.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that just because she's been doing this shit for 20 years doesn't mean she's been doing it well.

When I had people answering to me, if they fucked up, I called them out on it, that's what you do, you're a fucking boss. I no longer have people answering to me, and that's quite by design, I wanted a job with as little responsibility as possible, like American Beauty, only I'm not all wrapped up in teen pussy.

I do, however, know shitty management when I see it, and we've got it in spades at this store.

Remember kids, there's no 'I' in 'Team'.

There is, however, usually a big 'fuck you' in 'Team', and it's generally coming from my direction.

Be seeing you, possibly in the unemployment lines.

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Tuesday, December 12, 2006

My Web Of Lies And Subterfuge Has Failed Me

I finagled and lost today kids.

The boss had screwed me out of my Thursday off, giving me only Wednesday (yes, I know that a lot of people would kill to only work five days a week, but everyone's annoyances/hassles are very relative), so I pointed out to her that I had promised the wife that I would be involved in a company Christmas party for her work on Thursday, what could she do to help me out? Not a lie, exactly, just an exaggeration of my involvement with the party, all I actually have to do is show up and eat a steak.

To my mind this meant, "Hey, I need both Wednesday and Thursday off." After a brief digression, I'll let you know how that assumption played out.

Myspace spent the bulk of the morning on her cellphone at her desk, holding it crooked against her shoulder and sometimes working one-handed, looking as if someone was dying most of the time, a distinct change from the smiley newlywed I saw wander in late yesterday afternoon. She eventually disappeared altogether shortly before noon, and I assumed she'd run out of minutes and had to go and meet someone to bend their ear in person. The story from her deskmate was that whilst she'd been abroad on her whirlwind wedding tour, her baby's daddies had gotten together and conspired against her to screw her out of her custody of her children, which I guess would fuck up who she could leave them with the next time she has shit to do. She was out of the store until near closing, and then came by to say that her new husband wants her to move to California immediately, so she picked up her shit, got called a liar by the boss before her son came into the office and the boss cut herself short.

I inquired again about my day off as I was leaving at closing, and was told that it had been switched, so now I'm off Thursday, which, while preferable, is not necessarily what I was driving at. Since we are now even more short handed than we were this morning, I decided it wasn't worth fighting over, particularly since they'll be doing prep work for a party Thursday night, and I certianly don't want them trying to screw me into working late for that shit.

Alas, the best laid plans of Mob and men.

We got caught up watching The 40 Year Old Virgin on cable again this evening, I love that stupid movie, and Catherine Keener is cute as shit. She's another one of those odd celebrity crushes I have, in that I can probably see prettier women at the local mall, but she's just somehow attractive to me.

We also watched a TiVo'd copy of the latest Masters Of Horror episode, The Screwfly Solution, directed by Joe Dante, which was pretty well-done. I may try to do a little review for the last couple of those over the weekend, time permitting.

Be seeing you.

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Monday, December 11, 2006

Myspace, My Boss, My Pod And My Evening

I came home and had a little rant over the dumbass behavior that continues to go on at the job, and thought a little update was in order for all five of you who care.

Myspace apparently made her way into town sometime in the afternoon, and came by the store, said what's up to a few folks, the boss presumably included, and then left, not fired or even (to all my knowledge) even chastised or anything, even though the boss stated as much as thinking she was lying about why she was delayed.

This is why I have an amazingly hard time giving a shit about this job, the boss thinks you lied to her openly, and doesn't have the balls or inclination to call you out on it.

In an effort to ingonre this wholly depressing and ignorant series of events, I spent as much time as humanly possible with the iPod Agador Spartacus. This included a new (Cool) Shite On The Tube from those crazy Aussies down in Tasmania, a new Night Of The Living Podcast, and several episodes of The Dead Lantern Splattercast, which I had subscribed to via iTunes, yet hadn't popped up in their (apparently) not updating feed, so I grabbed them directly from their site.

PropositionI did finally get around to watching the marvelous Nick Cave penned film The Proposition, which sKincarver wrote a glowing review for a few months back. Guy Pearce has joined my list of favorite handsome actors who are willing to look fucked up and grungy for a good role, a list which includes Brad Pitt, George Clooney and Edward Norton.

Fuck Tom Cruise for all of his smarmy, cocky schmuck roles.

Be seeing you.

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You Have The Power To End This

So Myspace went out of town this past weekend, flying to California to marry her sailor in a whirlwind wedding weekend. She was to be back today at work, and isn't, of course, which had all the hens clucking about how unsurprised they are, and how if she didn't feed us such a line of shit most of the time, maybe we'd believe that her flight got bumped/cancelled, what the hell ever her story is.

We were all expecting that she'd have some reason for not being here today, because she sucks and should be destroyed, but what I find amazingly fucked up about this whole situation is that the hen doing the loudest clucking and gossiping is the store manager, who should either be above gossiping about her employees, or should fire the bitch and get it over with.

We have to put up with her lying ass, but you, madam, have the power of Greyskull and can tell her to pack her shit and get the hell out.

You will get no sympathy from me until you change your situation and surround yourself with people who aren't going to lie to you at every turn. Or take a course in business management, either way, you could do nothing but help yourself.

Be seeing you.

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Sunday, December 10, 2006

Who Needs Free Time When I Have All This Other Shit To Soak Up My Attention?

I can recall this magical time that existed before the committed relationship during which I could lock myself in the house on my days off and watch any number of movies, one right after the other, read a book from cover to cover, what the fuck ever suited my fancy that day.Piss Off

This is now only a quaint notion that I can fondly recall as a distant memory, as the days off have been replaced with days I'm not at work, but am running all manner of different errands, and the evenings are consumed with family business (nothing Mafia-related, don't get interested, I'm talking birthdays and dinners and shit) and parties and other engagements.

If this is what it's like to be an adult, this is for the birds.

I thought that since the mother-in-law was foregoing her Christmas decorating this year in favor of an extended family trip to Jackson Hole, Wyoming that I was kind of getting off easily, but instead of decorating her 12 foot tree I've now gotten to decorate the sister-in-law's 7 footer, and then today, another 7 foot tree for the wife's office, which happens to be the family business, so just when I thought I was out, they drag me back in.

Come to think of it, maybe it's more like the Mafia than I'd like to think.

So I did that this afternoon, but only after we met with her other sister and her husband and their contractor, to help decide if it's worth their time to buy this enormous five bedroom house and halfway gut it and renovate it. Since they have a kick-ass house that we'd love to own, and have first dibs on if they move, we were kinda pulling for them to buy this new place, hey, who wouldn't want an indoor pool, right? The sister-in-law, apparently, since the first move would be to demolish the side of the house that encloses the pool, but hey, more power to her, if it means we can possibly score their house.

YeeHawPlus it'd be worth a move to have the wife roll up at the new house in the Mercedes with a small coop of chickens strapped to the roof like some kinda latter-day Beverly Hillbillies and freak the neighbors completely the fuck out. Seriously though, the birds probably won't make the move, I see us having to get rid of them, because while we'd only be moving about four blocks away, I think that neighborhood is more uptight than ours, especially since our next door lady had already had some time to break everyone in with her own birds over the past five years or so. The new folks probably wouldn't be so understanding.

We watched the Fox Animation block this evening, and then the newest Dexter on Showtime, which has me squirming because I know there's only one more episode, and then the show won't be back on until next summer. What the hell am I supposed to do for my black-humored serial killing fix until then, I ask you?

I suppose there's always re-runs over at Your TV Links while I wait it out. Oh, and according to their latest podcast, the Reel Horror guys apparently know the guy who plays the character who confessed to the killings and stole some of the main villian's thunder during this season, which is pretty cool.

Tired now, I'm off to bed to have nightmares involving Christmas decorating in preparation for tomorrow. Go check out a new review over at Big Suck Loser if you still have any strength to slog through my ramblings.

Be seeing you.

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Saturday, December 09, 2006

When Life Hands You Lemons, Blog About It

I seriously have very little to talk about today, the past few days have been pretty uneventful, so I'm going to try to shoulder on and bore you with a brief rundown of the day before you delete the link from your favorites and move on to look for something good.

I spent a good deal of the day out of the store, running errands, delivering parties and the like, which was nice, just to get a break from the monotony that I see setting in next week. The boss will be expecting me to give up another day off and help out, which I resent since I wasn't keeping her from at least trying to hire some fresh meat for the holiday season, and she's long been aware of the hours I'm interested in working. Plus, the long days spent decorating out of the store are much different from those spent stuck in the store with all the back-biting and in-fighting, as well as the phone ringing off the wall.

The wife decided to take a pass on the Christmas party this evening, so we actually took a late nap and then grabbed an even later supper, amid a throng more suited in thier demeanor to the drunk crowd at a Denny's at 2:30 AM, despite the 9:00 PM timeframe. Everyone in the restaurant was shouting, making some sort of annoying noise and just generally being obnoxious, which made for a weird dining experience. It was the first meal out we've had in some time that I felt completely ambivilant about, it wasn't good, it wasn't bad, it was just dinner.

Strange.

The wife and I go to scout out a house tomorrow afternoon with the in-laws and their contractor, if they buy it, we're going to buy their current house sometime in the next year, after their renovations are done, so this could prove to be an interesting day for our little family.

Be seeing you.

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