Jesus Fucking Christ

This is awesome... I was going to write more, but this is so awesome that I'm speechless. Enjoy:

I'm a God Warrior... now pass the gravy!

Pet Peeves Part One

1) People who try to get on an elevator before allowing the people inside to get off. I can understand if it happens occasionally because you're not really paying attention - that's probably happened to just about everyone. But I've noticed that there are people who do it with maddening regularity. Even worse are those people who feel that it somehow MAKES SENSE for people to get in the elevator before allowing others to disembark. These are the same people who think that toilet paper should be placed on the roller with the paper hanging at the back of the roll instead of the front, so you have to reach an extra few inches just because. These are also the same people who, when pouring a bowl of cereal, fill the goddamn bowl until it is heaping with cereal, then add milk and stare in utter confusion as the whole mess overflows, ruining their Care Bears tablecloth. My guess is they also have to eat with dull, plastic utensils to avoid facial scarring.

2) People who sit in bunches on stairwells, preventing others from using said stairs for their universally recognized purpose: ascending and descending. If they do move to make way for others, it's almost guaranteed that they'll simply shift from one ass-cheek to the other, expecting people to somehow navigate through a sea of shitheads without tripping and falling. But if I were to fall and accidentally ram a knee or elbow into one of their empty heads over and over, guess who goes to jail? These people should be ground up and fed to seagulls.

3) People who pronounce the word "schedule" as "shed-jool". This trend seems to have started with the English "stiff upper lip" crowd, and then caught on with that annoying group of people who love to emulate the English because it's somehow considered cool (Madonna is their fuhrer, and Gwyneth Paltrow their Goebbel). The English can be forgiven for it; they invented the English language, and I figure they've got the right to make adjustments now and then. But these hipsters who talk like they're English because they think it impresses people... You can tell these cretins from real humans by their tendency to use phrases like "cheers, mate" and "this is shite". Also, they have no soul. But back to "shed-jool"... come on... "shed-jool"? In the grand "sheem" of things, I guess it's not that big a deal, but back when I was in "shool" as a boy, I was taught to pronounce it as "sked-yool", with the same "sk" sound as every other word in the English language that begins with the letters "sch". It's easy to remember, just think of the word "scrotum". As in, "Chew on a scrotum, you wannabe English douchebag."

4) People who insist on using the word "an" instead of "a" before the words "history" and "historical". This is almost as annoying as the "schedule" morons. Let me ask you something, fuckers: when you're hungry, do you say "I am an hungry person"? If someone asks you the time, do you say "It is an half hour past 8:00"? No, because if you did, people would assume that you need to wear a helmet and diapers when you leave the house, because only a complete fucking retard would talk like that. But somebody, somewhere decided that "an historical" sounded "educated", so everyone jumped on the train to Shitheadville.

5) People who pronounce the word "the" as "thuh" instead of "thee" before a word that starts with a vowel. Example: try saying the phrase "the operation was a success" and pronouncing it "thuh operation was a success". You'll sound like one of those retarded kids whose tongue is too big for his mouth. The only way it's acceptable to pronounce it "thuh" is if you also lisp on the "s" sounds: "Thuh operation wuth a thucktheth". People will just assume you're missing a chromosome and they won't punch you in the face. Unless they're schoolchildren, because they think it's fun to punch retards. For some reason, Americans seem to be the most common perpetrators of this linguistic atrocity.

6) Jessica Simpson's horrid caterwauling. Sure, she's smoking hot and I would gladly throw a hungry child into Satan's outstretched arms in exchange for an hour in a hot tub with her, but holy christ, hearing her "sing" is like listening to a busload full of kittens burning to death. Watch this clip of her mauling Robbie Williams' "Angels" and you will envy the deaf. Don't ask me what the hell she's doing with her arms, because I really don't know. Shit like this is the reason the rest of the world hates America.

BeatDogg

Movies make your brain work... sometimes...

I saw a bunch of movies this past weekend... Zambo, Stu-gots and I were on a mad quest to see the Borat movie, but alas, it was not to be, despite our best efforts. We ended up seeing "The Departed", which was really good. I also saw "The Prestige" and "Death of a President", both of which were also quite good. "Death of a President" got me thinking, so I'm going to do a post about it soon. I'll also post reviews of "The Departed" and "The Prestige". All in good time, children.

BeatDogg

Confucius say, "This will be short post."

Lately I've been collecting fortunes from fortune cookies every time I eat Chinese food, ie. approximately once a week. I don't know who started the trend of adding "in bed" to fortunes, but it makes for some decent chuckles, and in some cases makes the fortune seem somewhat more profound. I'm bored and I thought I would add some of the better ones here:

Now is the time to try something new... in bed.
I took this one seriously and recently decided to try adding something new to my bedroom repertoire: a woman. BUDDUMP TSST!! AAAYYYY OOOHHHHHHHHHH! Can you hear me in the back? Is this thing on?

You are going to have a very comfortable old age... in bed.
This one sounds comforting, but take it from someone who has worked in a nursing home: old people's beds can be utterly disgusting. Between bedpans, bedsores and bed-head (the bad kind, not the good kind), old age in bed is looking like a shitty way to end one's days (pun intended). Although, if you combine it with the previous fortune and a good dose of Viagra, things start looking a little better... especially if you're German.

People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner... in bed.
Uhhh, tell me something I didn't know! Ancient Chinese secret my ass...

And my two favourites:

Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded... in bed.
"Suitably rewarded" is the key phrase here... I'm envisioning a combination of a sorority pillow fight and something out of "Caligula", but perhaps I'm just being modest...

A friend asks only for your time, not your money... in bed.
If I wrote fortune cookie fortunes, I would replace this one with: "A true friend gives you money... in bed. And by "money", I mean "toe-curling oral sex". Beautiful, ain't it?

Seacrest, out.

My apologies to the ladies...

So Zambo posted a link to the "Which Sports Car Are You?" quiz, and it turns out I'm a Lamborghini Murcielago. Fuckin' SWEET! I love that car. I was so excited I made a little picture to keep in my wallet... whenever I'm feeling down and questioning my direction in life, I'm going to take out this picture and say, "Oh yeah... that's what I'm working towards." Then it will all be worth it.



Again, apologies to the ladies (if any happen to check out this blog), but I had to throw in "the P word"... it cracked me up. Plus, it's from "Kill Bill", so it can't be that bad.

Later, fornicators.

If some piece of shit homeless punk dies in an alley, does anybody care?

Zambo encouraged me to post something to my blog the other day... I said that if anything happened over the weekend that got me fired up, I might feel compelled to post. Well, something happened... I came about as close as I have ever come to initiating a fistfight with another human being. I don't consider myself a violent person; I've only ever been in two fights in my adult life, and both of those incidents were times when good friends had just been sucker-punched by drunken shitheads who decided to pick on someone smaller than them. I hate that shit. Sure, I enjoy watching the UFC and there's nothing I love more than a healthy dose of graphic violence in a movie, but when it comes to the real thing, I'm usually content to stand aside and watch drunk idiots pound the hell out of each other. I don't go looking for trouble.

Anyway, enough preface. Here's the deal: I went into work today (Sunday) with a screamin' hangover and an empty stomach, ie. I was not in a great mood. Not a bad, "get the fuck out of my face" mood, but not a sunny, "hey, how ya doing" kinda mood either. I figured the only thing that was gonna pick me up was a nice 12" sub, so I hit the local Subway. One Subway Club Fresh Value Meal and $13.50 later, I'm on my way to work, in a much better mood. What can I say, I'm a simple man of simple pleasures.

Then I spot this semi-toothless, 20-something street urchin, pimp strutting towards me. The pimp strut is pretty retarded to begin with, but when you're a homeless white dude who probably HAS a pimp, you shouldn't be pimp strutting. The last thing you is, is pimpin'. He sees the Subway bag in my hand and figures I'll have change for sure, so he starts angling over to my side of the sidewalk. My general policy is not to give money to panhandlers unless they look like they really need it. Like, if you're missing a limb or some shit, or you're in a wheelchair, or you're one of those dirty-hot homeless chicks, then hey, the crack is on me. Here's some change, hope things start looking up for you. If not, then enjoy the crack. There used to be a little old legless dude in a wheelchair who dressed up as Santa and panhandled in front of the Eaton Centre in Toronto at xmas time, and I would always give that guy some change when I saw him. But if you're able-bodied, under 30 and not obviously insane, then I got nothing for ya. And if you're one of these punk-as-fuck, mohawk-sporting, $200 worth of tats and piercings street kids, wearing $150 Doc Martens and hanging with your pet pit bull, go to fucking hell. Even if it's xmas, you're not getting any of my cash. Go get a paper route, motherfucker. Anyway, this piece of shit fell into the latter category - he was in his 20s, no obvious physical deformities or disabilities, and he wasn't screaming at parking meters so I figured he still had most of his marbles. I was already shaking my head and saying "No, sorry" as he slurred, "Hey man, can you spare some change?", even though I had a pocket full of it (poker winnings from last night). So he says "I just wanna get a sub like you, you fuckin asshole!" For about... one-thousandth of a second... I thought to myself, maybe I should give him some change. Who knows what kind of shit this guy's been through in his life? Maybe he got kicked out of his home by his parents, maybe he does have mental problems that aren't immediately obvious... maybe his dad shoved a cricket bat up his ass and made him wear women's clothing when he was younger. But then the "you fuckin' asshole" part started ringing in my ears, and a curtain of red descended over my vision. I'm not even joking, I literally saw red. I always thought that was just an expression but it turns out it actually happens. Weird. I thought, Who the hell does this worthless bag of shit think he is? I'm a fucking asshole because I don't feel like giving this kid money to feed his crack habit? It's my responsibility to give him the money I worked for, at a job I'm really starting to hate, the job I'm going to on a fucking SUNDAY AFTERNOON while he's be-bopping down the street harassing people, and if I don't give him my money, that makes me an asshole?? Like I said, I'm not very confrontational, but this little fucker suddenly had a bullseye right in the middle of the fuzzy grey lumps that I suppose were once front teeth. I had some kind of weird tunnel vision and my only thought was, "I think I'm gonna punch this guy in the face as hard as I possibly can." I turned to him and said, "What'd you fucking say?" He had already turned and was walking away, but he stopped and faced me. "Nothing, man, don't worry about it..." I suddenly realized that I was wearing my knapsack, which could be a burden if it came down to fisticuffs, so I started taking it off. I said again, "What did you fucking say?" and he muttered something about getting a sub because he was hungry. A couple of smart-ass replies ran through my head, something about being hungry for fists, or, "Why don't you eat a bowl of crack?", but I was too pissed to mount any sort of witty retort. Instead I said, "Why don't you get a fucking job, asshole?" and walked away. Yeah, I know... real original. Bet he's never heard that one before. You know how you always think of the perfect comeback line way too late to actually use it, like when George came up with his "jerk store" line on Seinfeld? Well, once the rage-induced adrenaline wore off and my hands stopped shaking, I spent the next two hours or so replaying the entire incident in my head (instead of concentrating on my work). I was trying to figure out a better way to have handled it. It was really bothering me that some worthless punk who was probably tonguing some guy's balls for $5 at that very moment had gotten under my skin so badly. Then I realized, the perfect response to this shitheel would have been one of two options: 1) throw my sub into the street and see if he runs into traffic to fetch it, or 2) unwrap the sub and toss it in the trash right in front of him, then tell him it's all his. Either of those options would have been well worth the $13.50. Since Zambo and I tend to frequent the downtown core quite often on our daily quest for a delicious lunch, there's a good chance I might run into this guy again. So the good news is, I might be posting more. The bad news is, I'm probably going to blow $13.50 on a sub just so I can throw it into the street for him to fetch.

Aaaight, boys and girls, I gotta get some sleep.

"What's the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

I watched King Arthur with Clive Owen and Keira Knightley tonight. It sucked. Here's a few reasons why:

1) You know how Days of Thunder was basically Top Gun on a race track? Well, King Arthur is Tears of the Sun transplanted to Britain. Remember how Days of Thunder basically sucked because you’d seen it all before in Top Gun, only at Mach 2 in a fuckin' F14 Tomcat as opposed to a shitty race car? I think you know where I’m going with this… Tears of the Sun licked the festering ass of a dead homeless guy, so you can imagine how good King Arthur is. Instead of watching the luscious and oh-so-lickable Monica Bellucci sweat and traipse through the jungle and look sexy as fuck doing it, we get to see Keira Knightley shiver her tits off and charge into battle against men who are twice her size and could no doubt cut her limbs off two at a time if they could only stop staring at her perky little… teeth. Don't get me wrong, she's hotter than a Taco Bell three alarm dump, but she's no Monica Bellucci. Honestly, this movie followed the EXACT same formula as Tears of the Sun: our hero is sent on a difficult mission and grudgingly accepts it because, hey, what else is he gonna do? He's a hero. Then, when the mission is accomplished and he can simply hang up his spurs and fuck off, he is forced to make a DIFFICULT CHOICE. You know it's difficult because he agonizes over it for at least three minutes onscreen, and then has to ask his men what they think. The audience has to ask themselves: will our protagonist take the easy way out and simply do what he initially set out to do, or will he rise to the challenge and do what is morally right, even though it may cost him and his men their lives? Take a guess. Here’s a hint: Bruce Willis took the moral road and rescued all the "good" Africans from the "evil" Africans, and he was just some dumbass Navy SEAL who squinted a lot. This is Arthur, King of the Britons. Wielder of Excalibur, and Son of Uther Pendragon. Of course he’ll stay. But his men, having won their FREEDOM, have to choose too. Take a guess what they do. Here’s another hint: these dudes have names like Lancelot, Galahad and Gawain, and they’re KNIGHTS. But Antoine Fuqua (whose name is cooler than anything he has ever directed) throws a curveball at us: at first the knights really do leave Arthur to fend for himself against the dirty Saxon invaders. "Ungrateful fucks!" you say? Me too. So much for chivalry and honour and all that other shit that knights are supposed to care about. But then their horses (yes, their fucking HORSES) make the decision for them, and turn back to help Arthur. It's a bitch to travel on foot when you're wearing 300 lbs of armour, so they're kinda stuck going wherever their horses feel like going. Good thing too, or Arthur would have been riding some dirty Saxon's halberd.

2) Here’s something you’ve never seen in a movie: just before going into battle, Arthur addresses his men from atop his trusty steed, Gluebag. Picture it: while his battlehorse stamps the earth, chomps at the bit and impatiently paces back and forth in front of the troops, he gives a rousing speech about FREEDOM and how there’s no place like home, and he just saved money on his horse insurance with Geico, etc. Still can’t picture it? Think back to Return of the King, when Aragorn did the FUCKING EXACT SAME THING. Or, if you haven’t seen that movie (you're a homo), think back to Braveheart when Mel Gibson did the exact same thing. Or maybe Troy. Or Alexander. Or Gladiator. Or any movie where there's about to be a big-ass battle and the commander has to remind the men why they're risking getting their shit ruined. Personally, my favourite pre-battle speech has got to be Gene Hackman’s humble yet poignant recital of a few lines from Julius Caesar in Uncommon Valour. I’ve yet to see any movie come close to that. But they don't make 'em like they used to, I guess.

3) The gore SUCKED. The only real reason people go to see movies like this is because they’ve watched people getting dismembered and hacked to bits in slow motion in other movies like Braveheart and Gladiator so many times that they have memorized the blood spray patterns and it’s time for some new material. It's kinda like porn in that way - you just need something new. We’ve seen limbs getting hacked off, heads caved in, cannon balls taking people out at the knees, impalings, decapitations, you name it. So if you’re gonna do a battle scene, you've gotta have something new to satiate the male bloodlust. It’s not enough anymore to just have a guy swing his sword and show arterial spray arching through the air – you gotta show people that these guys mean business. You need a 360 degree bullet-time closeup of the gushing stump, and a flash cut to the guy’s severed head twirling through the air, with his teeth still clenched in rage. Then the head needs to be impaled in mid-air by at least two javelins or arrows, or even thrown swords if you don’t have the budget for arrows. Then those javelins/arrows/swords have to continue their flight across the battlefield to their intended destination, with severed head still attached, and impale some other poor bitch, preferably in such a way that the head slides down the length of the projectile and ends up head-butting the guy who just got punctured. I know, I’m a genius and I should be making movies, but I'm lazy and I lack ambition. But back to the topic at hand: GORE. We need lots of it - I wanna see buckets of fuckin' blood and enough bloody stumps to make a War Amps commercial. This movie had jack shit. Not one decapitation, despite the fact that Arthur is swinging Excalibur - the Ferrari of swords - around for the whole movie. What the fuckin' FUCK, Fuqua?

4) Merlin was a stupid cunt.

5) Arthur and his knights were Romans. What-fucking-ever.

6) It wasn't Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Nuff said.

If you wanna see a cool King Arthur movie, go rent Excalibur. It's got Liam Neeson, Patrick Stewart, Helen Mirren (back when she was hot), Gabriel Byrne, and more T&A than you can shake a stick at. Avoid this shit festival like the plague.