One of those that no one wanted

I do not do top ten lists for movies because, if for no other reason, I never feel like I see enough movies in one year to make a quality judgement.  Well, screw you bitches, I've seen like 100 movies in the last 2 days and this year, I am ready (that and with the end of the world happening next year, I wanted to at least get one of these things down).  So, here we go.
I'm starting with Drive because I saw it more than any other movie this year.  I still do not know if I can truly pinpoint why I had to view it over and over again.  My first viewing in the theater, I really like the first 20 minutes, the music became too much as the movie went along, and I while I really liked the way Ryan Gosling played the character, I still felt it just wasn't a perfect fit.  In the end, I took away that the opening was probably going to be hard to be topped this year, the violence fit perfectly where it wasn't expected, and Ron Pearlman has the biggest freaking head that has ever existed outside of a dinosaur.  Being that it was slow first eight months of the year and I needed a movie to go see a week later, I went back to watch Drive again.  This time, it all feel into place.  The music made sense.  I rode the wave.  Ryan Gosling hit almost all of the notes of a seventies Nicholson Italian film.  Ron Pearlman's head was still just as scary.  The move did work (all except shoving my favorite person from Mad Men in the film for no reason at all other than to advertise her and show her boobs on the big screen) and I was hooked.  I may have even watched it a few times from home acquiring a version that may or may not of been of an illegal nature.  Who knows for sure.
Next, lets go with Girl with a Dragon Tattoo.  Wow, this was a piece of work from the best director working.  This one is fresh on my mind so that may skew my view of everything that happened but again, wow.  I was titillated.  I was terrified.  I was enthralled.  The pace was perfect for my ADD impatience (I say this because Tinker Tailor Solider Spy was a really quality movie that I am sure I will watch again and really like but seeing it after Dragon Tattoo just made it feel old and slow) and I felt like the action stayed active through the whole two and a half hours.  The lead actress, Rooney Mara, is on my top five list now.  As long as she is exactly like the girl from the movie.  I need help hacking some things.
Contagion was another offering from one of the best directors working today, Steven Soderbergh.  The main character of this flick was not a person but instead a disease that is poised to take us all out.  This movie might make more of an impact than twenty documentaries about the subject as this one has a story that is fun to follow but not 1000 chickens in one coop depressing.  That is, of course, just as long as you ignore then number of dead that the disease doles out by the end of the movie.  I'll never shake hands with a cook ever again (though to be fair, if I shake enough Waffle House cook hands, I should be immune from almost anything).  
I just saw Margin Call recently.  I remember on release I saw Kevin Spacey and corruption and thought for sure he was the jackass scumbag at the top that he has played (usually pretty well) a dozen or so times.  I ignored it but Redbox and positive review from some random place inspired me to pick it up and I was completely surprised.  Spacey is on the side of the "good guys" for once.  His company has made a fatal error in accounting that is set to take down half the system and Spacey is one of the few guys arguing for falling on the sword to protect the greater good.  Best surprise from a movie that I thought would be a disappointment all year.  
And before we get to the grand finale, let's lighting round some of the other top scorers of the year.  Mission Impossible was a solid B+ and gave everything you would want from a MI movie with no one (no one meaning a bad female actress that looks really hot) took anything off the table to hurt the movie.  Cowboys and Aliens was another big budget surprise.  First eighty percent was a very solid effort.  Never felt the need to walk out.  Transformers 3 had the best trailer of the year as the moon landing became a search for robot life out there (along with the worst attempt at a title Dark Side of Moon.  No the due to copyright infringement against those old LSD heads.  Urgh lazy Hollywood).  Meloncholia kept Lars's streak of making me sick watching his films in the theater going.  Thor mixed comic book action with cheesy interaction which is the best way to make a comic book movie in my opinion.  I have forgotten about ten times now that Super 8 was released this year.  Really good but if I have to hear one more person say it is ET again well....fine I liked it but it is ET.  Moving on.  Fast Five was eh.  Stop using The Rock to make me go watch a movie.  I can't help myself.  The Rum Diary should have come out two years ago though, I still do not know what they spend their budget on.   Source Code should get a nod but I haven't seen the first 3 minutes of the movie yet due to my stoner time being off when I went to the theater.  I still think it was pretty spectacular and could warrant some high marks but for some reason, it didn't last on me.  Kind of like Moon.  
Wow, did not think I was getting out of the last paragraph but finally I have.  Nothing before this had an order for their appearance on this list.  I only put an order on the best movie of the year and that  goes to Blue Valentine.  I saw this movie at one of the best theaters (new) in the world, the Archlight in LA so maybe that helped sear the movie into my mind.  Certainly, personal things happening around the time could play a part as well but honestly, I just think both Michelle Williams and again Ryan Gosling stole the show.  Their portrayal of love gained and lost was near picture perfect.  I felt heart warmed and heart broken.  Both parts equally.  When Ryan Gosling plays his guitar and sings while Michelle Williams dances is the iconic movie moment of the year for me.  It just hurts so much thinking about it now.  This is not an uplifting movie which also means it is right up my alley.  I loved this movie and probably will never watch it again.  Just like Love Liza.  At least until I want to feel like jumping off a building.

I really dislike the NBA

Short and sweet.  I hate the NBA.  I will still watch cause basketball is the greatest sport ever.  I will protest the Christmas day games.  It wont matter to anyone.  I've mastered the art of getting screwed over by everyone.  If I stopped doing such things that screw me, I would have nothing left to do.
Anywho, for the week that was let's start with what the week might be (Touch Me).  The God particle maybe exists or maybe the god particle really is just the step that gets us on to the step after.  I hope no one really thinks that the collider is going to bring the end all be all answers to all universal questions but it is still really fun to try.  If only Waxahachie could have held on to the project a while longer.  Could of been's and almost but not quites. Sounds a lot like someone's life we know.
Crazy Australian scientists (I just assume all Australians are crazy and back track as needed) say that there are large parts of Mars that are habitable (Touch Me).  Yet, this would still rank below another planet (Touch Me).  I mean, we are Americans.  We need our bling.  I'm sure we could find us some low wage workers to go to places beyond to bring us back some shiney things.  
Rats are found to be more empathetic than humans (Touch Me).  I guess this probably comes as no surprise. Suckers don't know how the hierarchy of greed works just yet.  Give them time.  Just a little time.

skin soaked afternoon

Friday afternoon.  Nothing necessary to commemorate.  Drizzle marking the cars in the parking lot.  Some have hunkered down for the foreseeable future.  Enjoying some buffet styled Mexican food and a an assorted amount of tits and ass scattered about the room.  Upon entering, you can see the whole place.  Not a haze of cigarette smoking hanging in the air.  Already, strike number one.

Places like this used to have character.  A stench.  A real air about the joint that things happening in there.  A seedy spot designed to accomplish that feel of dirty rendezvous with the welcoming atmosphere of impending doom.  Not for the faint of heart.   But now…now, it’s just like a Subway sandwich shop.  Corporate friendly with just the right amount of long lips sliding around on the stage. 

My table escort, a beautiful Nubian beauty (a real nice looking girl no matter where her parents come from but we must label everything for easy visualization.  Simplicity covers us all.) finds me a perfect spot up front and in the corner. 

“You look like you would want some privacy,” she says as I scoot my way around to a chair against the wall.  “What do you want to drink?”

“Diet coke.  And what are my options for lunch?”

“You get it when you buy a drink baby.”  She pats me on the shoulder and wanders off. 

Baby.  Honey.  Sugar.  When I was aware, or at least when I paid attention to what someone said to me, these were pet names for women.  Endearing terms usually reserved for pleading; sexual favors or forgiveness.  Now, with women’s rights being as they stand, the terms have turned the tide and now are used from female to male. 

Now, I should never be accused of being current with vernacular any time past 1998 or so but I’ve heard enough around over the years that I can say there has not been anything adequately enough added that would cover what I am talking about.   Let’s try some news ones out.  Ones that are synonymous with the man and the image he reflects to the world.     Stallone.  This one should be effective to use and obvious to define.  Kind of guy that trains in Siberia in the winter and can take care of a kid on the road during arm wrestling season.  Never in drag.  Kind of guy that covers all grounds.  Call a man Stallone and you can follow it up with anything.  Yes will be your answer.

Buscemi.  Boo.  Simm.  E.  Unique name for a unique fellow.  Always close but not quite.  Solid right hand man.  Never the boss but lives life to the fullest.  Even if it means up life in a wood chipper. 

My escort returns with a bucket of such.  Hidden inside is my five dollar can.  Nothing at all wrong with the price system.  As capitalist as it comes.  At least in Dallas there is a reasonable amount of choices whether for a man of some amount of means.  Or the cheap guy on the budget.  Or maybe reasonable.  Who is anyone to judge?  That is my plan for the day.  Get out of the house.  See some flesh that I can leer at without a human resources meeting.  Keep the expenditures low and if that is the play, lunch time is the right time to dance.

Maybe most strip club trips are further along in the evening.  After a reasonable amount of drinks.  Sober lunch just makes the Jersey shore accent of the girl headed my way even more of a reason to keep my cash in my pocket.

“Hey honey.  What have you got going on today?”

“Lunch and a view.”

She smiles.  “So you want to get this started right now?”  Right to the point.

“I just woke up.  I’m going to eat some breakfast first.”  And with that, she is gone.  Nice enough looking girl.  Just when she opens that mouth.  And a lap dance is filled with conversation.  More than the right amount to put a damper on my day.  Nope, just hear for the view and a little bit of Sportscenter.  Got to fill that highlight void sometimes.  Kind of imagine its akin to crack withdrawls.  Probably just about the same.

After locating the lunch buffet I begin to daydream of what I will stop and eat after I leave here.  Nothing against their fajitas and enchiladas but being poor this week has lead to at least three Mexican food type offerings.  I kind of just wanted a burger but that must be on Thursday.  No matter, I’m still awful high so anything is going to feel good going down now.

I munch, watch a girl on the stage to the left of me.  Not what you might call a super model body but that has never bothered me.  I like a girl that has some stretch marks if needed.  Means she cared enough to slim down from depression.  Or child birth.  Both accomplishments would deem me a failure.  As far as I know.  After my first encounter with the lunch level ladies, it seems simplest to stay in my corner and project my own ideas on the dancers.

The girl with pink highlights is working herself through a bachelor’s degree in philosophy.  The waitress standing at the next table over, the one that might be a few years past her strip club expiration date, just likes to help the common folk.  Her left hand can work the stress out of even the top end earners.  I hope so.  Man, she is kind of old.  Just no debating that.

My original escort returns.  Another bucket of drinks. 

“Hey sugar, why don’t you buy me a drink.” 

I pull all the dollar bills left in my pocket.  “Here’s what I got left.  Hang out with me as long as that allows.”

“Did you use your straw?”

I did not.  She places it in a seven dollar can of Red Bull.  Sips on it and smiles.  We small talk.  I spot a Mexican gentleman sitting stage center.  A smooth cowboy hat sitting on his lap.  I want to join that table.  Accompanying one of her stories comes a series of hand motions.  Coming to a halt when she knocks her Red Bull all in her lap.  She pats herself down.  I watch her tight top bounce around.  My luck is with me today.  Usually that would have been me putting a drink in her lap.  She laughs it off and calls a few employee over to gab about it.  My time is up.  I pat Aisha on the hand.  She gives me a hug.

“Come back and see me Matthewwww,” she purrs at me as I walk away.  At least she didn’t call me sweetheart.  It’s not February fake holiday time just yet. 

Just another week in the funland

I'll be fixing that last post in a day or two.  If anyone wants to tell me why when I cut and paste things I get a white background I'll make sure to give you a prize.  It's a pain.  Regardless, the reason I haven't just deleted it is the good ole reply that was posted to the story.  Seems that even when I get suckered into saying something nice about Monsantos, those bastards remind me why that is always a bad idea.  Story being, Mosantos scours the internet looking for stuff about them like fourth grade girls so when the poor soul that Monsantos has stuck in some dungeon working for peanuts find this one, sorry that you work for a monster.  Maybe try freelancing.  On to news:
My personal favorite of the week goes first.  A scientist may have discovered a way to never need to go to the dentist again  (Touch Me).  I guess maybe if I could get an appointment with Corbin Bernsen then I would reconsider but I hear that he was forced to retire.  We are so silly with our money here in our wonderful country (Touch Me).  Eight hundred million.  A few trillion.  Who really counts this stuff anyway.  Oh wait, I know who does (Touch Me).  Probably all those financial institutions that our Treasury Secretary told weeks ahead of time to abandon ship on some of their sour investments.    The news of the week that my little pea sized brain will never be able to wrap around (Touch Me).  Ten (and by no means all of) unsolved mysteries about Mars.  I still support under water living before out in the universe but what do I ever know.  All this, and Mitt Romney is so uninspiring, a guy named Newt is trying to slip in through the back door and take over the nomination.  Newt you say.  What has he been doing with his time in office?  (Touch Me).  Oh, what a magical magical time.

Plants that point to hidden ruins

New Scientist magazine- Discovering ancient settlements is often rather hit and miss, but the odds would be improved with a bit of chemical analysis. Plants growing over old sites of human habitation have a different chemistry from their neighbours, and these differences can reveal the location buried ruins.

Plants mostly take in nitrogen from the soil as the isotope nitrogen-14, with just a dash of nitrogen-15. Plants growing above archaeological sites in Greenland, however, seem to have absorbed a larger dose of nitrogen-15. 

I can be fairly certain that this will be the only positive Monsanto's article I post this millennium but I am happy to acquiesce to Monsanto's ability to do some really good stuff  with modified shrubbery but that is not what makes money so...well anyway, pretty cool/creepy that plants can adapt to death so well. (Touch Me) (Touch Me)

Zapruder and Stolley: Witness to an Assassination

As we approach the anniversary of that tragic November day in Dallas, a new documentary remembers the man who was responsible for bringing the indelible images of the last moments of the motorcade, and President Kennedy’s short life, to the world.  Zapruder and Stolley: Witness to an Assassination chronicles Dick Stolley’s odyssey to acquire what would become one of the most famous films in American history from a man named Abraham Zapruder. 

Late in the afternoon on November 22^nd 1963, Dick Stolley received word that a businessman from Dallas had captured the dramatic events of the day on film.  After spending the evening trying in vain to reach him on the phone, Stolley finally was able to speak with a weary and distraught Abraham Zapruder who after a very brief conversation, pushed Stolley off until the following day.  Arriving an hour early and decked out in a suit in tie, Stolley sat down with two Secret Service men and watched the last few seconds of President Kennedy’s all too short life.   “Even though it was only six seconds of video, it unfolded in slow motion, frame by frame,” Dick Stolley recalled.  The hard part now began as Stolley had to now convince Mister Zapruder that he and Life magazine would be the proper home for his footage of tragedy. 

The documentary is kept simple with the bulk of the footage comes from a lecture Dick Stolley gave years ago that the director, Roger Thurman, was luckily enough to be on hand to record.  Additionally, with the cooperation of The Sixth Floor Museum, Thurman worked in the Zapruder film and the six seconds that changed America forever.  The video can still illicit horror from an audience as evident by the audible gasps that could be heard as the documentary wound down and the Zapruder film was shown in its entirety for the first and only time in the film. 

Gary Mack, the curator for the museum, sat with Dick Stolley after the screening to talk more about  November of 1963 and the whirlwind of events trying to secure the 8mm footage from Mister Z. “Years later,” Dick recounted, “I introduced myself to Zapruder’s business partner believing this was the first time we had met.”  Only later did Stolley realize they had spent the Saturday in Zapruder’s office together.  “I went back and pulled out the contract and sure enough, his signature was on the contract just the same as Mister Z’s and mine.”  Just another testament to how time in America stood still for those tragic days.

As one of the seminal achievements in journalism in the modern era, Stolley will forever be linked with the Zapruder film and how the first images of the President’s death were presented to not only the American people but around the world.  “the two things I’ll be remembered for,” Stolley tells as the event came to a close, “founder of People magazine and getting the Zapruder film.  Well,” he said with a smile, “that makes me happy.” 

Where's Waldo

Read over the next two paragraphs and see if you can figure out what is missing.

authorities have arrested a man who law enforcement officials believe was planning to build and detonate a bomb in New York with government workers, returning military personnel and elected officials as the target, two people briefed on the case said on Sunday.

Cyrus R. Vance Jr.,  the Manhattan district attorney, Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg and Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly of the New York Police Department announced the charges against the man at a Sunday evening news conference at City Hall. (Touch Me)

You guessed it.  Neither the FBI nor the ATF joined in this merry little adventure because they both said, "we will pass" (Touch Me).  Of course, there would be no reason that NY would want a national story to divert from their current newsworthy situation.

New character for some story that doesn't exist yet

Minimize the dangers.  Maximize my life expectancy.  One can live in a bubble.  A vacuum.  Without as little interaction with anyone on a personal level and still be okay.  Productive.  Normal.  Walking the dog is one of the biggest gap in security.  We walk odd hours.  I don’t sleep too much when everyone else does.  Darkness gives ample opportunity to someone of that ilk, a thief, to try and take me.  My dog is no guard for this kind of scenario.  He’s just a little guy.  His skills lie more in the loud announcement of anyone near the front door.  Or with squeaky brakes.  Outside, I’m exposed.  So, I always carry a sharp blade with me.  I do not expect to be able to do much success with it come hand to hand action but even still it will come in handy.  I can cut Max loose and let him find freedom.  If I were to just drop his leash in the interaction, he would just run in circles away from the attacking machine.  Just quick enough for it to not be able to retract completely.  The guy would surely kill him out of fear of rabies or some other sort of situation that might make a dog go so wild.  He’s just really a scaredy cat.  My little dog.

When I am on the road, my attention transforms.  Hyper aware.  My skills are superb still.  I learned driving on windy country roads clocking in around seventy two while my driver’s education instructor snoozed soundly in the passenger.  Probably figured it would be easier to deal with, a fatal collision is certainly inevitable in all driver’s education instructors careers.  Part of the job description.  Pitfalls.  It’s the other infinite number of maniacs out there that impose impending danger, death knocking at my door, every time I operate heavy machinery.  The standards are still fear inducing actions; makeup applying, cell phone texting, eating a donut, but now, there is so much more to contend with. …I’ve wised up.  Found an old ’83 wood panel station wagon to make my trips around town.  Solid as a rock with no sentimental value attached.  The destruction of its shell would bring no harm to soul.  Certainly not from the same kind of car my father used to smash my fingers in the passenger door.  Told me to move faster than a woman getting out of the car and I wouldn’t have to worry about such bouts of such excruciating life lesson truths.  My mom walked me to the house after.  The station wagon was only good for one trip a day.  Start her up, keeping her running wherever our errands took us, and turned her off for the evening only when we were sure no more need for her was required.  Then, she was down for a solid twelve hours before we could start her again.  What could have been my speedier trip to the emergency room was spent on an afternoon bowling.  Father bowled in his league game.  Mom cheered him on and I stayed in the car to ensure no one stole it while it idled in the parking lot.  

Dottie O Dottie

It’s time for Two Broke Girls on the old people network.  Why is someone knocking at my door?

“Baby!” She comes in and wraps her meaty arms around my waist.  An ex.  Sort of.  Hasn’t been seen in months but here she is.

“Hi.” I peel her off me.  Look into her face.  No bones protruding.  Skin is all the same color.  No eye bags.  Someone is looking awful clean.

She pushes me back into my apartment just enough so she can use her left combat boot to shut the door behind.

“What’s going on baby.”  We join each other on the couch.  “Oh shit, I love this show.”  She grabs the remote, turns up the TV, and leans in against me.  He in my lap.  And we sit this way, quietly, and watch the entire episode in silence.  Max is up to some hijinx at the diner.  Spills some soup on a customer.  Hilarity ensues.  Quite odd.  The silence in here.  Not the show.  The last time I remember Dottie being this quiet was when she went unconscious when she ran into the facing of the bedroom door.  Bad depth perception.  Her and all the Asian driver’s out there.

“So,” she says sitting up as the credits roll, “you miss me?”

“Sure,” I say.  Don’t give away too much of my hand until Dottie’s motives are revealed.  Weakness means she can still eat me alive.  Which means there is no way she is going to give up a blow job before we fuck.  Cause we most definitely are going to fuck.  Dottie might be a lot of things.  Shit, this visit is almost certainly to do with needing a favor, but Dottie is respectful enough to give me some gorilla style love making before she tries to reach her hand in my pocket.  Take what’s left of my money.

“I’ve missed you,” she kisses me softly on the lips.  “It’s been too long.  Why haven’t you come around?”  She presses her lips back to my face.

“I don’t know where you around is.”

“You’re silly,” she smiles at me.  Nibbles my ear.  Then, with ninja like precision, has my pants undone and her hand inside before my dick can react.  Still just flaccid.  Hiding somewhere in the depths of my boxers.  All turns around the moment Dottie’s skin makes contact.  In hiding to hard as a rock.  She is sucking in an instant but only long enough to give herself some lube.  She jumps on top.  Grabs me by the back of the neck, and goes to work. 

Work is over in an instant.  Not my fault.  It has been since Dottie last visited that I even had a female inside these dingy white walls.   Except my mom.  Once.  Looking for some money.  Seems bingo had tapped her dry that month.  It was worth the cash just to see the look on her face as she had to pretend to still care that I came from inside her.  “I love you” from her mouth seemed as far fetched as “God is good” coming from mine. 

“Are you hungry?”  Dottie cleans me up then disappears into the kitchen.  “Do you think these eggs are still good?”

I peek my head around the kitchen corner.  Dottie digging pans from the cabinets.  Making some after sex food concoction that is sure to taste like shit.  But be awfully thoughtful.

There is most silence again as the food is prepared.  Except the brief, but satisfying second round, where I took control.  Knocked everything off the counter trying to find the perfect spot for Dottie’s ass.  And for our puzzle pieces to fit together without fire shooting up my calves from the strain.

“You make me feel so good,” Dottie stares at me while I eat.  Usually this would make it hard to ditch half my plate in the trash but today, the meal taste pretty decent.

“Let’s run away together.”  The demand.  The offer accompanies desert.  Little Debbies brownie (I’m a simple man.  I do not need exquisite for my sweets).  

“Yeah right, you funding this excursion.”

Dottie fetches her purse and sits down at the table with me.  She pulls out a stack of lottery cards.  And two coins.  “You feeling lucky?”

Well, no.  At least I wasn’t when she first walked in the door but now, after a meal that makes me feel like I need a nap, maybe I am feeling lucky.  I take a quarter and start to scratching.  There are twenty tickets total.  Weekly Grand.  Lucky 7.  The usual.  Nothing.   Nothing.  Nothing until…

“I won!”  I celebrate.  I pause.  “I mean, we won.”   Dottie takes the cue and begins to dance with me.  Around the table.  Around the kitchen. 

“How much?” 

I stop twirling Dottie.  Review the ticket.  “Oh snaps,” excitement takes my vernacular to weird places, “ten thousand dollars.”  We restart our dance.  It leads to the bedroom where we dance like one would do in the bedroom.  And moan.

“You ready to go get your winnings?”  Dottie has re-dressed while in the bathroom.  I’m still trying to clean myself off.

“Sure.”

  Always a line.  If government is involved there is no way around it.  Put me behind the counter and give me a bonus for keeping the line under 30 minutes and things would run so much more smoothly.  But, I would assume the same could be said for the run down mothers and house ladies working behind the counter at the state office.  Give a little encouragement and people will die for you.  Well, your money but that’s still something.

“I’m not feeling too good.”

“What do you mean lovely?”  I turn to Dottie.  She gives me the long eyes of agony.  “Well, shit we are almost up to the front.”

“I trust you.  Just, if you get done before I get back,” she says as she hustles away, hand over her mouth trying to hold her insides at bay, “don’t leave just wait for me.”

She disappears into the bathroom.  That seems like an awful strange thing to say.  Right now.  What, does she think I would cash out like that.  If I wanted to get rid of her, all I’d have to do is say. 

“Next.”

A blue trench coat hides an old man inside.  He steps up.

“Next.”

Another worker has stepped to the counter.  Guess I’m doing this one alone.

“I believe we won.”  I hand over the winning ticket.  Winning the lottery.  Always dreamed but never thought this kind of “thing is real.”

She looks up at me as the last three words come out of my mouth.  Instead of just hiding inside my mind.

“I mean, this is crazy that I actually won.”  She looks back down at her computer.  Begins to bang away.  “It’s not millions but you have no idea how this will help me.”

The employee, her name tag says Demona, spins her chair away from me.  Takes my ticket and heads into the back.  Maybe I get a little celebration balloon or some sort of congratulations from a middle manager.  Like the restaurant manager that hands me my coupon for a free dessert on my next visit.  I lean my elbow on the counter.  Look back over the growing wait line.  I shrug.

“Winning.”  Is all I can think to say. 

My attention returns to the inner workings of the government facility.  Demona exits a room from the back.  Steps aside.  Gives room for a man in a dark suit who power walks out a side door.  Walks around from behind out front.  Finds himself leaning in.  Talking to the security guard sitting out on a bench in the lobby.  They both look towards the line.  The security guard pulls a walkie from his hip and begins to say something to someone on the other end.  I wish they would just hurry up and  give me my money and deal with this situation later.  And how long is Dottie going to be in the bathroom?

Dottie meets the two men at the employee door.  Let’s everyone in the back.  All three in lock step make a bee line towards me.

“Sir, can you step over here and come with me?”

“How was I suppose to know it was fake?  I didn’t do it.  If you will just ask my girlfriend, she will tell you.  She is in the bathroom.”

“Sir, there is no one in the women’s bathroom,” Demona says to me, “Do you think maybe she went into the men’s?”

Everyone laughs without me.  I seem to be on the outside of what is going on.  The laughing stops. 

“You know what this means don’t you sir?”

I do.  Certainly not the first time I’ve been down this road with Dottie.  The time I caught a drunk driving charge while you she was behind the wheel as we clipped half a neighborhood worth of mailboxes.  Getting detained before a Cowboys game even kicked off.  Locked up in the stadium’s holding tank. 

Russian Police find 29 bodies in Historians home

Now that is a headline.  Much better than the one two paces up that says, "KD Lang thinks Justin Bieber looks just like a lesbian".  Yeah, so has everyone else that says things in front of microphones and cameras.  It's not news coming from KD.  It's not news at all.  No one should have wasted one moment of their time writing that headline, much less the article (says the man who is now writing about the article.  Maybe they just do this sometimes to make me angry.  They figure out what are your "buttons" to push and on each computer, while innocent people surf the world wide at 11 am preparing to start work, the man is inserting special news stories on popular sites that will send the reader, the one that this article has been personalized for, into a crazy fit of lunacy.  Then they can swoop them up and put them in institutions for their own "good" only never to be seen from again).  Anywho, some historian in Russia dug up a bunch of bodies (Touch Me) and dressed them up all pretty and did something with them for some reason.  That will be a question never to be answered.  Ah, humans.  We are special.

my favorite industry in the whole wide

I do love the pharmaceutical industry so very much.  They have taken buy offs and skulduggery to unimaginable heights. That is a compliment, no doubt.  I mean, it is not something my insides could allow me to handle.  Things like topping traffic-related deaths in the U.S. (Touch Me) is some kind of accomplishment.  At least, if that is your thing.  Though, that is small potatoes (at least in the grand scheme of things.  It is way too easy to keep something legal that kills scores of people; alcohol and tobacco continues to a shining example of such activities) compared to the plan they have in the works now (Touch Me).  Banning vitamins?  Come on, how can that be.  They are vitamins.  A lady asked the other day if her child might die from a vitamin overdose.  Vitamins!  Yeah, the ones we used to eat with Flinstones on them.  Like candy.  Just like candy cause they were candy.  Vitamins.  I just don't understand things anymore.   At least senator Durbin had the good sense to only take 300,000 dollars from the health lobby (Touch Me).  Better than say our commander in chief (Touch Me).  You've got to get your campaign dollars from somewhere of course, I just tend to think health care political influence is the lowest of the low level capital gain thing one can do.

Drug hallucinations look real in the brain

University of Rio Grande de Norte- The visions induced by an Amazonian brew used by shamans may be as real as anything the eyes actually see, according to brain scans of frequent users of the drug...Volunteers looked at images of people or animals while their brains were scanned...then the volunteers closed their eyes and they imagined they were still viewing the image...when the team then gave the volunteers a dose of ayahuasca and repeated the experiment, they found the level of activity in the primary visual cortex was virtually indistinguishable when the volunteers were really viewing an image and when they were imaging it.

(Touch Me)

Sharpie Advertises Subliminal Message

Certainly, subliminal messages have been the go to move for advertisements since inception.  I can even say that subliminal messages are better than changing an tv show to advertise for the newest studio craptastic movie (Touch Me).  Still Sharpie, this seems like an awful strange way to put in your two cents while citizens across the world have found that the only way to stop the bleeding is to be visible in public and share their piece of mind.

(Touch Me)

Red Light cameras

Let me sum up the article for you since I know you never (and when I say you I mean I) past the first two paragraphs.  

"some of the contracts (in regards to the companies who run the actual red light machines) written by the companies themselves and later signed by municipal governments, requires each camera record a certain number of red-light runners every year AND for police departments to issue a minimum number of tickets."

Intersections less safe (Touch Me) and the need to force people into traffic violation situations is why I support more cameras at intersections.  And everywhere.  

(Touch Me)

Oh Tuesday

Trying to integrate some things over to over things and learning how much that some places online (starts with a F ends with a acebook) like to make things so exorbitantly difficult to handle.  I will not be defeated just apparently distracted for a while longer.  So, in the meanwhile, www.whackbatmedia.com is looking pretty fancy and will continue to expand in the days and weeks a coming.  And it will have a facebook page too if I die trying (or kill a programmer or two).  So in the meanwhile, lets talk about the NBA.


Oh, NBA.  What an insanely absurd predicament you find yourselves in.  You are not the NFL.  Losing 1 game out of 16 is way more impending doom nature than a month or two of an 82 game season that no one watches until January.  That is not good for you.  A kind reminder of how second fiddle sounds.  But you were moving out of that spotlight at the of the season last year.  People were coming around to your side.  Hell, you have a dozen of the top 25 most recognizable athletes in the US of A and are set to surpass soccer as the number one watched (maybe played, not sure. stole that data from someone) in the world.  Yet, you somehow decided that making a big fuss about a new bargaining agreement took presidence over working on a gateway deal to get you through these next two or three lean years and see how things are going to fall when we reach the other side of that magical technological field.  I mean, you guys are aware that in 5 years, 10 years, nothing you see now will be the same.  Sacramento is going to raise enough money to fund a new stadium and keep their Kings in town but what will that stadium look like?  I haven't heard anyone say a thing about how futuristic and next step the design is going to be.  Maybe it will be next year or in two years but that is not good enough anymore.  What is your fan experience?  The one that you plan on unveiling that has a fan experience that surpasses their living room couch and big screen.  Oh, you've got nothing for that.  Exactly.  Baseball might always be played and boxing might always take place but there are heights neither will ever see again.  NBA, looks like it is time to fall in line.

Making an Apperance

Why don't you stop by and see me and my other businesses (other being other than the business of being me) at the Kaufman Scarecrow Festival.  Oh yeah, going to K-town to visit the peoples.  And try to make a few dollars so visit and buy.  

I hate an uncomfy couch

“I don’t think so but if you want to…”

She did.  She fell.  No way anyone was going to make it across that mini lake in the parking lot after the rain in a dress that tight.  Logistics.  Earths’ energy.  Now I’ve got to figure out how to not get my car wet from this dripping girl trying to get in.  How much guff would I get for leaving her behind.  Give her some cab money.  My seats are still so new.

I see the remote.  I am aware it is certainly not underneath me but it feels it. My back feels it.  Stabbing me in the sixth vertebrae.  This couch is terrible.  I would like to avoid sleeping here again.  I’d have to do yoga for a week for every night here.  Withering up like a liquid drained flower. 

No breakfast.  No coffee.  Vanessa has ghosted on me before I could drag myself out of my sleepless night.  We need a trip to the grocery store.  Pop tarts.  Strawberry with icing.  Why icing, why?  How does anyone still have teeth?  Not as bad as three sweet teas a day but I can’t imagine enamel appreciating either.  Dentures don’t sound too bad.

“Can we call this a new day?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“You didn’t tell me.  Just give me a few minutes to get ready.”

“Not you,” Vanessa says.  She seems to mean it.  At least she will look good.  Maybe we can skype later.  I only need the highlights.  Especially if it is not until the morning before she comes home.  Our home.

“We are still together?”  The walls don’t answer.

A week.  Two weeks.  Still home alone.  Have been eating peanut butter sandwiches for three days.  Ran out of jelly.  Someone needs to go to the store.

“Are you still alive?” My mom asks when she calls to check on my attendance for Halloween dinner.  We always celebrate in our own ways. 

“Of course,” I’ll be there.  Free food. 

Halloween left overs make it a week.  Vanessa’s been gone for a month.  No clean dishes.  I need to find someone for that.  Craigslist.

Blow job and a clean house.   All for two joints and some coke to go (some here for the speed of cleaning).  It is amazing how great Craigslist can be.  And got a new couch for delivery.  Rather not sleep in our bed.  It’s your smell.  It is hard to sleep smelling when my cock gets all hard.  It’s Pavlov.  I’m nothing more deep than a dog.  Heavy dose of reality.

A little whips and feathers.  A feast of roast, mac and cheese, and Hawaiian bread.  All that from a mute girl.  No conversation.  Just weird moans.  I tip.  She tried  to pretend to be offended.  Those with handicaps know when not to question a gift.  No one ever wants to buy them flowers.  Heart shaped boxes.  

There's nets on them there buildings

Seems as though not many people are aware of this story so...some factories in China,including the Foxconn building that makes all of our wonderful Apple toys, had to install nettings around the buildings in order to catch any potential suicidal workers before they smashed down to the ground.

I don't think those are factory installs (Touch Me)

That's a really old pot

Blombos- Scientists have uncovered two ancient tool kits they believe to be as old as 165,000 years.  No reason to think I can tell you anything better than reading the article.  Just remember the wall paintings in France are somewhere around 65,000 years old.  That's as old as art creations of this kind go.  Until now apparently.

(Touch Me)

The week that we just got rid of

And oh what a week it was.  Turns out, the biggest thorn in our sides over there in the middle east has a super trooper group of soldiers that they train to be one of the baddest groups on the planet only when the chips are down and they make a play, they turn to a drunkard stoner in Texas to hire Mexican drug cartel hitmen to take out a Saudi diplomat hanging out in DC (Touch Me).  What the...?  No question stranger things have happened, certainly when it comes to family ties (not the Michel P Keaton kind), but man, if this is what we are up against in the rest of the world, hell, maybe it can be USA! USA! for a few more years.  Hitting the jackpot as being the arresting government agency on this grand caper, the ATF can breathe a sigh of relief for the moment while this overshadows their other, less successful, work under the Fast and Furious program (Touch Me) which is now coming to a courtroom near you.  This program put guns into the hands of the cartels, yes those shooting up the streets along the border, in an effort to try and track the guns and make arrests to those in possession.  Sounds like a great plan but some reason, didn't work out so well.  I guess we can't be perfectly competent all the time.  It would just be nice to be competent just once or at least not be so incompetent as to use pirated software to fly our killing machines around (Touch Me). 

Tim Allen has a new show

I must admit that I assumed Tim Allen's new tv show, "Last Man Standing" was going to be something akin to a Tyler Perry romp.  The nostalgic way in which all the advertisements and publicity sold Tim Allen being back on TV with a family that was funny.  And a studio audience.  This kind of nostalgia has proven to be a nuclear disaster since its inception (see Charlie's Angels for the most recent example).  So, my expectation bar was set to bottom-of-the-barrel levels when I qued up the pilot episode.  Much to my delight, the show was actually well written and funny (just to be clear, the caveat to everything forward is "for network TV") show.  (Loretta from Justified) To be certain, this show skews to an aging demographic.  The same viewers that might still enjoy a cheesy network sitcom, can only see to watch them with characters that they might more relate to like "New Girl" or "Two Broke Girls".  Tim Allen's slight (yes slight. Not everything has to be the worst version of something automatically.  There are levels to everything.) homophobia began in the first episode.  There is no question that the show, and in that I mean Tim Allen because he will be THE reason on whether the show survives or not, does conjure up memories of the lovable TV mechanic just trying to raise a family in this crazy world.  It almost seems inevitable to see a kooky neighbor teaching Tim Allen some yoga and giving him sagely world advice.  That would be nostalgic indeed.

The case against the underwear bomber

Theme week here I guess.  The case against.  Court cases are such tricky endeavors.  Does someone plead guilty or not guilty based on their actual position of being guilty or innocent or are there underlying circumstances that sends a case one way or another.  This seems like it might be the case with the underwear bomber.  After months of claiming he was innocent and the government offering absolutely no plea deal, this week Umar Abdulmutallab submitted a plea of guilty.  Maybe the accused man that tried to light his underwear bomb on fire on Christmas 2009 realized that he had no chance and rather than deal with court, he tossed in his own towel and accepted guilt for the crime.  Though, this same week, there was something else new that was interjected into the case.  Umar, defending himself, listed one witness to call on his behalf.  A Detroit attorney named Kurt Haskell.  Every since the attempted bombing, mister Haskell has claimed that the events of the day was not as simple as a crazy man getting on a plane with a bomb (scary enough as is).  Haskell's claims that Abdulmutallab was escorted through security on the fateful morning by a well dressed Indian man who, despite Umar's being listed on a terror watchlist and having no passport, was able to get the "bomber" through and onto the plane.  Even without the well dressed Indian man or the eye witness reporting from Kurt Haskell, the ability for someone with a trail like Abdulmutallab to get on a plane is unsettling enough.  If cancer scanners and trips to second base with passengers are not getting the job done, what good then is TSA good for?  

(Touch Me for Mainstream News Story)

(Touch Me for Kurt Haskell's Radio Show)

FBI case against anthrax scientist

Washington- Months after the anthrax mailings that terrorized the nation 2001, and long before he became the prime suspect, Army biologist Bruce Ivins sent his superiors an email offering to hep scientists trace the killer.
This, among other inconsistencies beginning to come to light regarding the anthrax attacks, will put a test on a court's ability to investigate such an important moment in recent american history.  There are only three options but each carries a heavy weight if it was indeed the reality.  The first choice being that one biologist, working alone and in an extreme rush, created the spores necessary to send out letters laced with anthrax leading the deaths of five people.  The second being that simply Bruce Ivins nor his lab was not involved in creating the spores for the letters and there is someone out there; maybe in Russia, maybe in England, who remains free to roam the streets.  Or third, and likely the worst of all, that an american biologist (maybe Bruce Ivins, maybe someone else completely), with assistance from someone within labs either in Maryland or in Utah, created the anthrax and mailed it out in order to heighten the fears of an already terrified nation.

(Touch Me)

   

Uncovering the hidden lake buried two miles beneath Antarctica

Antarctica- There are hundreds of subglacial lakes buried beneath the Antarctica ice, each one completely isolated from the rest of the world for hundreds of thousands of years.

If you need any more than that to click on the story, you are not my friend. You probably aren't anyway but seriously, now you wont be.

(Touch Me)

almost good luck

You've never quite done anything for me
You've certainly tried
no one wants a cake after its ate the floor
good try good effort
except unless successful it still rings up a failure
I'd never ask you to stop
the one in ten chance you do come through
LSD that time or the Tai chick you left behind
what a whore
but not even a batter can get away with
that many strikes outs
life needs to be at least even at 500

It's a go

Gracious people.  Sometimes, enough is just too much already.  I am aware that the job of policing the safety of our nation falls into the hands of people who are not always equipped with the capabilities to handle every situation but when will we ever remember we have the greatest gift for figuring out such hard problems.  It's called common sense.  I know.  I know.  What use is common sense when the computer answers all of our questions?  Well... common sense would be the perfect tool in the human toolbox of skills to solve a problem that faced a naieve little stewardess on a Southwest flight recently.  When one of her passengers took her seat, a college graduate student named Irum Abbasi, the flight attendant made sure to take notice.  You see, with her headscarf on full display, this made Irum quite "suspcious". Her airport adventure had already taken her through secondary screening as per the mandatory Arab randomly selected process but this would never, could never be enough.  So, the flight attendant had her eye on Irum.  Making sure she didn't make any sudden moves.  And, of course, like any Arab highjacker in the movies is likely to do, as the plane was getting ready to dislodge from the terminal and embark on its mission into the sky (good luck with that run-on) she made her move.  The pilot began his script. Everyone began shutting their electronics down.  Irum, into her cell phone, tells her cohorts in Islam "It's a go." But lucky for all of us, that Southwest Airlines stewardess was prepared and kicked that little terrorist off the plane.  USA! USA! Except, the girl said, "I've got to go" since the motherfucking plane was about to take off and now she is suing the airline.  USA!?!

(Touch Me)

I'm now following...

Blackboards in Porn.  Fantastic little blog that figures out the math problems in the background of porn videos and works out whether the math is correct.  Check them out.  Gave me a chuckle, though, just to be clear I still hate math.  Go words!

(Touch Me)

 I love her twitter feed (which I mostly certain do follow).  I love her unrelenting arrogance (if you are going to have it, have it all the way).  Sarah Palin is a maverick and she does what she wants and I applaud her for that.  While some bimbos and second rates run for the presidency like Romney and Bachmann, Misses Maverick says fuck all bunch of that shit.  She knows there are much bigger platforms to stand on.  Much more ways to impact this great red, white, and blue nation of ours than to just be the lowly commander and chief.  This is the best move I have seen in this current (whatever current is now since it is no longer seasonal cause it runs the year round. Like football and lockouts.  And how come the NBA can't get the same media love for their lockouts?  This is most certain race based and needs to be investigated) political season.  Just pure savvy on her part.  A character like her, going through another chop 'em down presidential race, would inevitably be chopped down to even smaller pieces by the negative nellie political media system.  That's not just a reflection on Palin. It was easy to how Perry get beaten away at the moment he stepped in.  So who, in wanting to be an influential policymaker, ever would think that relegating themselves to a political position is the smart play?  All the power.  None of the rules.  Oprah has never held a political position and I think she helps to paint her narrative all over the world as well as anyone.  Just because she doesn't read doesn't mean she isn't smart.

(Touch Me)

Sonic the Hedgehog was Stolen

Well, kind of.  From the way back and still going on file, Kenneth Penders (number 2 of the Kenneth Penders monarchy) the Sega company owes him money for the considerable contributions he made to creating the world of Sonic.  Sonic the Hedgehog, a childhood favorite of mine that I still sucked at regardless, came out in 1991.  Mister Penders began work at Sega in 1993.  You remember.  David Koresh and such things.  If they haven't paid up by now sir, when then do you think they ever actually will.  People steal. It's fucked up especially when that was your one good idea that you were ever given.  Or how about maybe you just go eat a handful of mushrooms like you did back when you were designing the trippy ass courses for Sonic and then right behind that will come great idea number two.  They are our thinking saviors from mother nature people.  Let's eat them all up.

(Touch Me)

Twin Peaks the video game

Ah, Twin Peaks.  Oh how I love thee.  Let me count the ways. Dirty young girls.  Sex.  Red Room.  Midget.  Murder.  David Bowie.  One Eyed Jacks.  Drapes....Anyway, be Special Agent Dale Cooper as he wanders his way through The Black Lodge.  Glory be to all.  The video game play itself looks like a real pain in the ass so no way I was going to play it but the accompanying video on the site plays it for you.  So convenient. 

(Touch Me)

Graham Hancock on Joe Rogan

I work very hard to try and expand and learn about all things as much as I possibly can.  Graham Hancock takes his own energy trying to learn how us as people developed into the people we are now.  He decides to write a book about underwater structures so he spends 2 years and 50 dives seeing all kinds of underground structures. That is the dream.  Hands-on takes learning  to another level.  I can't wait to be able to follow in footsteps like Graham.  Listen and learn.

(Touch Me)

Random Sundays

Just a nice little recap of the crazy week that was.
Let's just go favorite first. (Touch Me) I wish I could explain this with some for of reasonable explanation but I just can't so...this video reads your brain waves and shows how your brain is taking in the image. I think. Maybe. Just watch it.

(Touch Me)

This place is called Gobekli Tepe and it might be the oldest temple (that we know about of course. Just wait for the Graham Hancock stuff later).  The location is said to be around 11,000 years old predating Stonehenge by almost double its age.  

Suicide by Roller Coaster

Want to enjoy the ride of your life along with the last ride of your life?  That's what Julijionas Urbonas envisions with his Euthanasia Coaster.  The three minute ride involves a long, slow, climb that lifts one up to a height of more than 1,600 feet, followed by a massive fall and seven strategically sized and placed loops.  The final descent and series of loops take all of one minute but the gravitational force, some 10 G's, from the spinning loops at 223 mph in that single minute is lethal.

(Touch Me)

Former NASA Employee Claims Alien Moon Cities Exist

Former National Aeronautics and Space Administration Data and Photo Control Department Manager (good luck getting that on a business card) Ken Johnston, who worked for the space agency's Lunar Receiving Lab during the Apollo missions has been fired.  Why?  He says that there are alien moon cities.  

(Touch Me)

I know we all want to make a name for ourselves in this world. Maybe live on an additional fifty, maybe a hundred years in the folklore of history. Maybe this guy is telling the truth. Maybe he is just a fame hog. Who really knows anymore anyhow. With all our info and data, we are now less likely to know the truth than when we were using Britanica encyclopedias for all of our worldly info.   

The AntiMagnet

Barcelona- Researchers at the University of Barcelona have obtained a formula for building an "Antimagnet" that can nullify a magnetic field.  The real world application will make it possible for people with pacemakers to undergo magnetic resonances and to control the magnetic fields of technological devices.  
Not really sure what I need to know this for but it sounds awful cool.  I do love me magnets.  I've even seen a car engine run off of opposing magnets (it was amazing but alas, you know we can never have it).

It's got eyes, scary eyes

(Touch Me)

Lots of Lots

Here you go. One big dump of fun for you to sink your teeth into. Enjoy!

Starting with a documentary about the business of AIDS.  I know, fun times indeed.  I have not seen the doc cause well, I don't know people who know people but I'm interested to see how this plays or even if anyone knows it exists.  Much like with the history of AIDS.  (Obviously people know there is a history cause all things have history but they don't know the history of the disease is what I am saying.  Jeez, with the questions. (Touch Me)

Some people openly wonder why we have spent the last half century exploring the cosmos when there is a vast array of just about everything underneath the water on our own planet (there's your shout out Andrew).  The underwater structures of Yonaguni present just the kind of thing that makes underwater exploration so tantalizing.  If this is a man made structure, then we should consider the possibility that Graham Hancock preaches regarding previous evolutions of man (yea, plural.  4 to be exact.  We are the fifth) is a real notion (btw, Graham Hancock will be on the Joe Rogan podcast in a week or two which is a must hear. More on the podcast later as well).  So maybe if we start just exploring where coastal lines were previous to the last ice age then we might begin to find numerous structures like this off the coast of Japan.   (Touch Me)

For my pops who swears by the magical applications of holograms. France is testing hologram boarding agents at its Orly airport. Good for futuristic dreamers.  Bad for people who like to yell at attendants to make themselves feel better (sorry Nina at Southwestern.  I know you will never be able forget what you saw there that day but maybe one day, it will subside to the dark corners of your memory.) (Touch Me)

We all know that people can control the weather (World Cup 2020 Quatar anyone) so this should come as old news but still good info.  The University of Geneva has begun testing what they call laser-assisted water condensation to make it rain so to speak.  The first tests produced water droplets in the air but did not cause major flooding in ten states like that old bag Mother Nature can do but it is a start.  (Touch Me)

I'm not here saying I can completely explain my belief in string theory but it has always seemed to give some sort of probable explanation to the world and our interactions and connections within it.  But of course, the fucking europeans (yeah little e) spoil my knowns again.  Seems as though part of the basis for superstring theory is that all normal particles actually have supersymmetric cousins called sparticles that are slightly different than the original particle.  Apparently, sparticles don't actually exist so...back to the drawing board. (Touch Me)

I love me a good religious story as well.  In Tel Aviv, a 2,000 year old burial box could reveal the location of the family of Caiaphas, the high priest involved in the crucifixion (see murder) of Jesus.  It's a great story if nothing else (you decide what story that is). (Touch Me)