Today was our company get together for Customer Service week. Hoo-frickin-ray.
It was at the Fun Station, which is nothing like the Fun Station type places that I remember from my childhood.
You know the Fun Station. Every town that's anything has one. Video Games, Skee-Ball, Go Karts, Batting Cages, Putt Putt... I'd go on some more, but you know what I mean.
Honestly I thought that it would be pretty lame, but it did end up being a good time. Pretty fun to get out there with your co-workers, and not really be all stressed out from work. See people that you work with every day not wearing work clothes and the such. See everyone's kids.
I got my chance to be a semi social butterfly, which is a skill that I am trying to develop. So far, it's coming along nicely.
Now, I love me my arcade games. I remember going with my dad, back in the day, to the Westland Mall, and spending hours in the Fun-o-Rama. Back then arcade games only cost a quarter. You could stick a $5 bill in the token machine, walk away with $6 worth of tokens, and have a field day. That's because the arcade games were easier to play, less complex, way more fun, easier to score a free game, and all in all better than arcade games are today.
The only game in the entire place that I had played before was Galaga, which made me feel really old. Number 1, it's Galaga, which even though it's a great game, it's pretty Old School. Number 2, it had to announce, in big bright yellow letters on the front of the machine, that it was from the "Class of 1981". For crying out loud, I work with people who weren't even alive in 1981! When I made the joke "My Atari thumb is cramping up just looking at the game" many people didn't get it.
It's such a shame. I won't mention her name, but one of our co-workers did say, one day "What's Atari?"
OMG. That hurt. That hurt bad. I spent many a summer day glued to the green shag carpet in our living room, planted in front of our GIANT TV set (you know, the kind that was in a giant wood paneled box? No, TV's didn't look like they do today) playing Space Invaders and Pitfall until my eyes were crossed. When I couldn't see straight anymore, I went outside and played on the Slip n' Slide for a while.
Damn, those were good ol' days. I wonder how much it would cost to get an Atari console on EBay. Hmm.... I'm going to have to look into that.
But, back to Galaga. Do you know that it cost two tokens to play that bad boy?
And, another thing! You only got three tokens for $1. What the hell?!? What kind of allowances are kids getting these days so they can afford to play arcade games? I tell you what, when I was growing up I got $12 a week for allowance. And, this is when I was about 10 or 11. And, that money lasted me like it was a million bucks. That bought me the new copy of Tiger Beat, a cherry Slurpee, a pack of Nerds, a back of Bubbalicious, and I still had plenty of money left over.
So, now, at the arcade, they had two of those crazy Japanese dancing games. I played one of them with G., and was immediately addicted. I swear, I must have pumped a good $20 bucks into that machine. But, I tell you, that game was fun as hell. And, some good damn cardio. Beff and I have plans to go back and play that game some more. I think I may have sprained my L4 & L5, though. I guess that's the price you have to pay to kick butt on the Japanese Dance Game.
I get home, and all I can think of is this awesome awesome game. According to J, you can get this game for your X-Box.
I was on a mission to find this game for my X-Box so I can majorly kick some butt on this machine.
After looking around online, I find a game shop on my side of town that has both the game mat and the game in stock. So, off I head down the Parkway to buy this game. I go to the secondhand game shop down by the WalMart down there. They basically looked at me like I had a giant penis growing out of the middle of my forehead, and stated that they did not carry those.
I know that there is a game shop that has these in stock, because I called them before I left the house. The guy on the phone guaranteed me that they had them in stock. I remember seeing the address as being on the Parkway.
Oh, holy crap.
Yeah, you know where this is going.
It was the game shop... IN THE MALL.
Uggggh.
What was I thinking? Going to the mall on a Saturday afternoon? Going to the mall at all?
Damn you Japanese Dance Game and your crack like addictive ways. Damn you for making me need to have you right now. DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!!
Now, I don't know what it is about malls that makes people walk uber slow. I hate that. When I walk, it's get the hell out of my way. If you're going to walk slow , move over to one side of the mall walkways. Don't spread all out in an uber slow moving line. MOVE YOUR ASS!
I hate slow. It's the new millennium. Everything should be fast! No, not just fast, uber lightning fast! Nownownow!
Maybe high speed internet has spoiled me. But, in my opinion, everything in life should move as fast as DSL. No, not as fast as the DSL ISP I have, because that can be dreadfully slow.
Ok, I'm off track.
So, I make my way through the (uggh) mall, and get to the game store. Get my game and game pad, head back through the (grrrr) mall, and go home. Plug the mat in. Pop the game in. Get ready to dance Japanese style. Oooooooh yeah, baby. Loves it.
You know what? That fucker is so damn hard and fast that I can't do a thing with it!!!!
Damn you Japan. Damn you and your wacky games. Damn you all to hell.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
Survivor - S13E3
Dude, I'm just giving up on this. Survivor this year is so horribly lame it hurts my brain too much to even think about it. And, right now I'm bored with life and am in dire need of intellectual stimulation, so you know that Survivor has to be pretty damn lame.
The tribes merged. Flicka is really pissing me off. So is that Parvitti chick, especially since I found out her name is pronounced "Poverty", which, in my opinion, is a pretty gay thing to name your kid. No longer semi attractive Jonathan is starting to piss me off.
I end this Survivor blog until something blogworthy happens, which just might be never.
On that note, I leave you this cool link.
www.jumpedtheshark.com
Enjoy.
The tribes merged. Flicka is really pissing me off. So is that Parvitti chick, especially since I found out her name is pronounced "Poverty", which, in my opinion, is a pretty gay thing to name your kid. No longer semi attractive Jonathan is starting to piss me off.
I end this Survivor blog until something blogworthy happens, which just might be never.
On that note, I leave you this cool link.
www.jumpedtheshark.com
Enjoy.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Rant blog
Hooray! It's another classic Rant Blog from Amy.
I know I said that I wouldn't be using this blog for rant blogs, that I would save those for Myspace. However, this is something that has been picking away at my brain for a while now, and something happened that I can't keep it inside anymore. This is a serious rant blog, though. After the intro, this is going to turn into a letter to my friend. I don't know if she will ever read it.
One of the things that pisses me off more than anything is stupid women. Stupid, dumb ass women, who let asshole men walk all over them.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love men. Oh, yes I do. So, don't get the ultra wrong impression that I'm some sort of man hating lesbian, because I am **SO** not. And, this isn't an anti-men blog. It's actually an anti-asshole men blog, but more importantly, an anti-certain type of woman blog.
I hate the women that don't think that they can live through life without a man. The ones that think that they need a man to be happy. The ones that jump from bad relationship to bad relationship, just to have the company of a man.
Honey, you don't need a man to be happy, make you happy, keep you happy, keep you sane, help you live life, or anything like that. It's a little something called self reliance, which far too few people seem to have these days.
But, what I hate even more than that type of woman, is a woman who has a uber horrible relationship with King Asshole of Infected Rectum City (who, incidentally treats her like ass, no pun intended... or maybe it was intended. Not important here), SEES the problem, ADMITS the problem, COMPLAINS about the problem, CRIES about the problem, TALKS ABOUT SOLVING THE PROBLEM, but NEVER DOES A DAMN THING ABOUT IT.
Whenever I hear about a woman in this situation, I do feel bad for her at first. Women are very emotional, caring, loving creatures, which I think are both the best and worst qualities about our sex.
However, I stop feeling bad for her after the umpteenth time I hear her say how she's going to fix the problem. Or how he has until suchandsuch a date to straighten up, or he's gone. Or, how "NEXT TIME" is the last time.
The problem with this type of woman is that there is always a "next time". This date always gets pushed forward until the next one. The problem never gets fixed. She just keeps having a relationship with the asshole, allowing him to take advantage of her more and more. She's just digging her hole/grave deeper and deeper.
Dear Friend,
Damnit, woman, why can't you stand up yourself and be the strong chick that I know you can be? Don't you understand that you are under absolutely NO obligation to this asshole? There are only TWO people in your life that should be your priority right now. Your child and yourself.
Stand up, and show your daughter and yourself that you are a strong, powerful woman, who don't take shit from nobody.
Don't let your daughter grow up in this environment and think that it's perfectly normal for men to take advantage of women, and treat them like crap. You have to take the step and show her that women are strong beings that deserve to be placed on a pedestal, and respected.
Don't you understand that if you don't stop this now, THIS WILL HAPPEN! Your daughter will find herself in horrible relationships similar to the one you are in now! If her husband or boyfriend steals from her, she will think that it is fine; that there is nothing that can be done about it. She will think that it is normal for her husband or boyfriend to treat her like shit. She will think it is absolutely fine that her life is crap because of her husband or boyfriend.
And, I know that your relationship isn't to the point that I am about to touch on. I pray that isn't isn't like this. But, even worse, she will think that it is perfectly normal for her husband or boyfriend to beat her up after a hard day at work. She will think that it is fine for him to rape her when she is not in the mood. Even worse, she will think that she somehow deserves ithis type of treatment. She will think that it is her fault, and that she is to blame.
I beg you to take a stand right now, and not let this happen to your precious, beautiful child. I swear, friend, I am crying as I am writing this, because I do not want your beautiful child to have this grim future.
I say that I don't feel sorry for you anymore. I say that I can't feel sorry for you anymore. But, the emotions that I am feeling while writing this show myself that that is not true. While we are not best fiends, you are my friend, and I do care about you, and I do love you. Even though I haven't seen your child since she was a day old, I deeply care about her, and I do love her too.
You know that I am always there for you, if you ever need me for anything. If you ever need help leaving this asshole, I will be there for you, and will do whatever it takes to help you out. You have many caring, loving friends that I know will do the same.
Please be strong, friend. Look deep into your heart and soul, and do what you need to do to take care of yourself and your child. I know that you can do it, because you are a strong, beautiful woman.
If you read this, I don't know if you will never speak to me again, or even hate me. But, if this letter gives you even a small push towards making your life better, it will all have been worth it.
I know I said that I wouldn't be using this blog for rant blogs, that I would save those for Myspace. However, this is something that has been picking away at my brain for a while now, and something happened that I can't keep it inside anymore. This is a serious rant blog, though. After the intro, this is going to turn into a letter to my friend. I don't know if she will ever read it.
One of the things that pisses me off more than anything is stupid women. Stupid, dumb ass women, who let asshole men walk all over them.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love men. Oh, yes I do. So, don't get the ultra wrong impression that I'm some sort of man hating lesbian, because I am **SO** not. And, this isn't an anti-men blog. It's actually an anti-asshole men blog, but more importantly, an anti-certain type of woman blog.
I hate the women that don't think that they can live through life without a man. The ones that think that they need a man to be happy. The ones that jump from bad relationship to bad relationship, just to have the company of a man.
Honey, you don't need a man to be happy, make you happy, keep you happy, keep you sane, help you live life, or anything like that. It's a little something called self reliance, which far too few people seem to have these days.
But, what I hate even more than that type of woman, is a woman who has a uber horrible relationship with King Asshole of Infected Rectum City (who, incidentally treats her like ass, no pun intended... or maybe it was intended. Not important here), SEES the problem, ADMITS the problem, COMPLAINS about the problem, CRIES about the problem, TALKS ABOUT SOLVING THE PROBLEM, but NEVER DOES A DAMN THING ABOUT IT.
Whenever I hear about a woman in this situation, I do feel bad for her at first. Women are very emotional, caring, loving creatures, which I think are both the best and worst qualities about our sex.
However, I stop feeling bad for her after the umpteenth time I hear her say how she's going to fix the problem. Or how he has until suchandsuch a date to straighten up, or he's gone. Or, how "NEXT TIME" is the last time.
The problem with this type of woman is that there is always a "next time". This date always gets pushed forward until the next one. The problem never gets fixed. She just keeps having a relationship with the asshole, allowing him to take advantage of her more and more. She's just digging her hole/grave deeper and deeper.
Dear Friend,
Damnit, woman, why can't you stand up yourself and be the strong chick that I know you can be? Don't you understand that you are under absolutely NO obligation to this asshole? There are only TWO people in your life that should be your priority right now. Your child and yourself.
Stand up, and show your daughter and yourself that you are a strong, powerful woman, who don't take shit from nobody.
Don't let your daughter grow up in this environment and think that it's perfectly normal for men to take advantage of women, and treat them like crap. You have to take the step and show her that women are strong beings that deserve to be placed on a pedestal, and respected.
Don't you understand that if you don't stop this now, THIS WILL HAPPEN! Your daughter will find herself in horrible relationships similar to the one you are in now! If her husband or boyfriend steals from her, she will think that it is fine; that there is nothing that can be done about it. She will think that it is normal for her husband or boyfriend to treat her like shit. She will think it is absolutely fine that her life is crap because of her husband or boyfriend.
And, I know that your relationship isn't to the point that I am about to touch on. I pray that isn't isn't like this. But, even worse, she will think that it is perfectly normal for her husband or boyfriend to beat her up after a hard day at work. She will think that it is fine for him to rape her when she is not in the mood. Even worse, she will think that she somehow deserves ithis type of treatment. She will think that it is her fault, and that she is to blame.
I beg you to take a stand right now, and not let this happen to your precious, beautiful child. I swear, friend, I am crying as I am writing this, because I do not want your beautiful child to have this grim future.
I say that I don't feel sorry for you anymore. I say that I can't feel sorry for you anymore. But, the emotions that I am feeling while writing this show myself that that is not true. While we are not best fiends, you are my friend, and I do care about you, and I do love you. Even though I haven't seen your child since she was a day old, I deeply care about her, and I do love her too.
You know that I am always there for you, if you ever need me for anything. If you ever need help leaving this asshole, I will be there for you, and will do whatever it takes to help you out. You have many caring, loving friends that I know will do the same.
Please be strong, friend. Look deep into your heart and soul, and do what you need to do to take care of yourself and your child. I know that you can do it, because you are a strong, beautiful woman.
If you read this, I don't know if you will never speak to me again, or even hate me. But, if this letter gives you even a small push towards making your life better, it will all have been worth it.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Survivor - S13E2
You know, I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling Survivor this time around. This season has proved to be completely disappointing so far. I don't know if it's because the show jumped the shark a few seasons back, or if it's because of the multiple five member tribes, or if it's because there are no real hot guys on this season, or if it's because of the way that Survivor seems to be completely disregarding Team Whitey. Whatever the reason, I'm just not into it. I'm really hoping that the show takes a turn for the better real soon.
Well, even though this isn't being written full hearted, here is my recap of S12E2.
Opening scene of SWA sitting around a mound of coconut husks, trying desperately to make fire. It's still just not happening for them. Which is somewhat funny, and, yet, somewhat sad in a real, real pitiful way. It's something like day four, and the four remaining "city kids" still don't have fire, even though a flint was very generously given to them, as charity, by Probst.
One of the tribe members starts complaining about not having fire, and how this isn't cool, especially since they are supposed to be representin'. Well, girlfriend, you better start representin' like hell and get a fire going. It is the most essential element that you need in a survival situation such as, well, Survivor.
Nate gives up, and walks away in obvious frustration. One of the women picks up the flint, and starts banging the machette against it. After a few knocks, Hooray!, they have fire. All is well in SWA now, hugs are passed around, and backs are slapped.
Cut shot to Surviving La Vida Loca out fishing. Dude, what did ya'll do, take every single spear gun that was on the schooner? I swear, everyone in the tribe had a spear gun. Except for Billy Boy, but we'll get back to him in a minute. There were so many spear guns in the tribe, that the chicks were even using them to spear crabs on land. Hey, I guess if I'm allowed to catch crabs on soft plastic lures (even though I'm not aiming to catch crabs), these chicas can spear them. Before they know it, they have a virtual smorgasbord of seafood.
They're back on shore, and you hear Cristina, the chick cop, telling about how she got shot and almost lost an arm. That's why she wears a bullet around her neck. Hmm.
So, Billy Boy is telling one of the chicas that he does not feel that he is part of the tribe. He tells her that metal is his culture, not the Hispanic culture. Okay, Billy Boy. We all love metal. And, no one is denying the fact that metal absolutely kicks ass. However, it's not really a culture or heritage.
(side note here - maybe this would make for a good Survivor experiment. Metal Tribe, Easy Listening Tribe, Techno Tribe, and Opera Tribe. Just something to think about, CBS. I bet you a million bucks it would be more entertaining than this Season's Survivor has shown to be so far)
(second side note here - It's Saturday. The show was two days ago. It was so remarkable unrememberable, that I'm sure I'm missing a bunch of things. I don't really care at this point, since this show royally sucked. I did ask Beth to TiVo it for me, but I don't really care to see this episode again)
Cut shot to Survivor Drop Soup, where one of the girls let Cao Boi know that she had a headache. So, he starts doing his face-mashing thing, again. She, however, has about three hickie marks on her head. Again, she confesses that her headache is gone.
I have to find this Cao Boi guy, and let him mash my face. Then my headache would be gone, and I, too, could have an odd hickie looking mark, therefore leading people to think that I'm getting some action.
Um... sorry.
So, now it's night, and the Asians are all cuddled together in a group spoon in their shelter. Cao Boi is still cracking the Asian jokes, but the two other guys are complaining, and ask him to stop. Now, this is where the show really pissed me off. Cao Boi says, hey, I've got one more "What do you call a Vietnameese man with three dogs?".
And, you NEVER hear the punchline.
That is soooo lame.
Thanks to J., though, who had the answer. "Well fed."
Ba-doom-boom.
Survivor Drop Soup and Surviving La Vida Loca have both managed to catch wild chickens (holy crap, there is such a thing?). However, there was a bit of drama at Surviving La Vida Loca camp, when the chick cop wanted to do it one way, and Ozzy (the moppy haired Mexican) wanted to do it another way.
Ozzy knows the outdoors, they did it his way, caught a chicken, chick cop gets pissed and walks away.
Now we have what I think was the only shot of Team Whitey in the whole show, aside from the challenge.
Jonathan comes back from Exile Island, and, no, the idiot did not find the HII (Hidden immunity Idol). He is greeted by false hugs and greetings. How friggin' gay was that scene.
He gets right to work in building a shelter. His plan is to build a shelter floor, which I assume would be about a foot off of the ground. This is actually a great idea, and it is good to see that at least one member of Team Whitey is able to think. I was beginning to worry after Flicka (nappy haired chick) released the chickens.
I say one member, because Golden Boy starts pissin' and moanin' about having to build a floor.
"Why do we have to build a floor?"
"Because, it will keep us drier."
"How is it going to do that?"
OMFG. Are you serious? I forget which one of the girls had to explain it to him, but it went something like this: "Ummmm (real sarcastic tone here), because when it rains the water is on the ground?"
Either he A) didn't care about getting wet, or B) still didn't grasp the concept. He was still pissing and moaning.
Cut back to Surviving La Vida Loca camp, where there is a group meeting, minus Billy Boy. Billy is fast asleep, allegedly snoring so loud that the others can't sleep, which is what prompted this midnight meeting.
Ozzy, who we are now finding out is weasley, too, is suggesting that they throw the challenge just so they can vote off Billy. At the same time that he is saying this, there are great night vision shots of rats. Nice touch. The other guy is in on it, but chick cop doesn't think that it's such a good idea.
Next day. Tree mail!
Ok, meet the new SWA, minus Seku.
(oh, man, I just thought more about the musically segregated Survivor! You could have the Metal Tribe with Henry Rollins, Chris Cornell, Sebastian Bach, Angus Young, and some other metal guy. Techno Tribe could have Moby, Beck, Fat Boy Slim. Easy Listening Tribe could have James Taylor, Elton John, John Tesh, and Yanni. Dump the Opera Tribe, and replace it with a Boy Band Tribe. Fill that with whoever is in boy bands these days. I betcha John Tesh would end up kicking some ass. And, Henry Rollins would kick even more ass, because that's the kind of guy he seems to be)
Here is your challenge. It's one of those rope and maze and puzzle dealies. I think they were attached together with ropes around the waists. Go around this maze type thing, collect trivia answers. Go over the rope bridge. Put together the trivia answers and the questions to match. First three tribes win immunity. First tribe wins immunity and two tarps.
Probst tells a quick story about Captain Cook. This is what the trivia questions and answers are pertaining to. Teams have a chance to go right to the challenge, or read a book that retells the story to make sure they get the trivia portion right.
Quick note here. It was, like, a one paragraph story. Not rocket science.
Ok, tribes. Since SWA has only four members, every other team must sit one member out.
Now, it's not really important who Survivor Drop Soup or Team Whitey sits out. SLVL is discussing who should sit out. Billy Boy immediately volunteers, which makes sense, because he is a big, slow, dude. Kinda like an overweight sloth in a skull t-shirt. Ozzy says no, and the professional volleyball player, their strongest player, sits out instead. Let's not make this too obvious, okay?
Survivor's ready? GO!!!
SWA, SDS, and Team Whitey all dash out into the maze. SLVL stays behind to read the book. For crying out loud, if you're going to do something as lame as throwing the second challenge, at least make some sort of effort to not make it look like you are!!!
Long challenge short. SDS and Team Whitey both finish in a tie, both winning immunity and two tarps. SWA comes in a not even close third, which, when added to their making fire, is a well needed boost. SLVL comes in last, and gets to choose who to sent to EI (Exile Island... I'm liking this acronym thing).
Who do they pick? Yul, the smart Asian.
Who, incidentally, goes to EI, reads the clues, and has the HII within five minutes. Again, not rocket science.
Back to SLVL camp, where Billy Boy is talking to chick cop, desperately grabbing any straw that he can. She agrees to talk to the other chick, to see if the three of them can vote Ozzy off, because he is turning into a weasely rat. She agrees, and the plan is in place.
Tribal Council. Billy states that he knows the challenge was thrown, and he knows that he's on the chopping block.
Then the highlight of the show.
Let me just make a real brief recap here. The chick cop and the other chica have basically agreed to vote for Ozzy and keep Billy in the game.
I repeat. The chick cop and the other chica have basically agreed to vote for Ozzy and keep Billy in the game.
Billy says that there is only one real reason that he is playing the game. And that is "Love at first sight." And, her name is Candace. Apparently they had this "thing" on the boat, and mouthed the words "I love you" to each other.
Seriously, now. I fell off my couch I was laughing so damn hard.
I wasn't alone. Even Probst was dying laughing, as was the rest of SLVL.
Let's vote. The second person voted off of Survivor Cook Islands is none other and Psycho Billy Boy.
In the end shots, you see that it was a completely unamious vote. His completely off the wall... no, off the whole universe remark scared the crap out of the two chicas. And, I don't blame them. If I ever heard a guy say those same words, I'd be outta there soooooo quick.
According to the Survivor website, there are changes coming to S13E3. Pleasepleaseplease be a tribe merge. Be anything that makes this season less painful to watch.
Well, even though this isn't being written full hearted, here is my recap of S12E2.
Opening scene of SWA sitting around a mound of coconut husks, trying desperately to make fire. It's still just not happening for them. Which is somewhat funny, and, yet, somewhat sad in a real, real pitiful way. It's something like day four, and the four remaining "city kids" still don't have fire, even though a flint was very generously given to them, as charity, by Probst.
One of the tribe members starts complaining about not having fire, and how this isn't cool, especially since they are supposed to be representin'. Well, girlfriend, you better start representin' like hell and get a fire going. It is the most essential element that you need in a survival situation such as, well, Survivor.
Nate gives up, and walks away in obvious frustration. One of the women picks up the flint, and starts banging the machette against it. After a few knocks, Hooray!, they have fire. All is well in SWA now, hugs are passed around, and backs are slapped.
Cut shot to Surviving La Vida Loca out fishing. Dude, what did ya'll do, take every single spear gun that was on the schooner? I swear, everyone in the tribe had a spear gun. Except for Billy Boy, but we'll get back to him in a minute. There were so many spear guns in the tribe, that the chicks were even using them to spear crabs on land. Hey, I guess if I'm allowed to catch crabs on soft plastic lures (even though I'm not aiming to catch crabs), these chicas can spear them. Before they know it, they have a virtual smorgasbord of seafood.
They're back on shore, and you hear Cristina, the chick cop, telling about how she got shot and almost lost an arm. That's why she wears a bullet around her neck. Hmm.
So, Billy Boy is telling one of the chicas that he does not feel that he is part of the tribe. He tells her that metal is his culture, not the Hispanic culture. Okay, Billy Boy. We all love metal. And, no one is denying the fact that metal absolutely kicks ass. However, it's not really a culture or heritage.
(side note here - maybe this would make for a good Survivor experiment. Metal Tribe, Easy Listening Tribe, Techno Tribe, and Opera Tribe. Just something to think about, CBS. I bet you a million bucks it would be more entertaining than this Season's Survivor has shown to be so far)
(second side note here - It's Saturday. The show was two days ago. It was so remarkable unrememberable, that I'm sure I'm missing a bunch of things. I don't really care at this point, since this show royally sucked. I did ask Beth to TiVo it for me, but I don't really care to see this episode again)
Cut shot to Survivor Drop Soup, where one of the girls let Cao Boi know that she had a headache. So, he starts doing his face-mashing thing, again. She, however, has about three hickie marks on her head. Again, she confesses that her headache is gone.
I have to find this Cao Boi guy, and let him mash my face. Then my headache would be gone, and I, too, could have an odd hickie looking mark, therefore leading people to think that I'm getting some action.
Um... sorry.
So, now it's night, and the Asians are all cuddled together in a group spoon in their shelter. Cao Boi is still cracking the Asian jokes, but the two other guys are complaining, and ask him to stop. Now, this is where the show really pissed me off. Cao Boi says, hey, I've got one more "What do you call a Vietnameese man with three dogs?".
And, you NEVER hear the punchline.
That is soooo lame.
Thanks to J., though, who had the answer. "Well fed."
Ba-doom-boom.
Survivor Drop Soup and Surviving La Vida Loca have both managed to catch wild chickens (holy crap, there is such a thing?). However, there was a bit of drama at Surviving La Vida Loca camp, when the chick cop wanted to do it one way, and Ozzy (the moppy haired Mexican) wanted to do it another way.
Ozzy knows the outdoors, they did it his way, caught a chicken, chick cop gets pissed and walks away.
Now we have what I think was the only shot of Team Whitey in the whole show, aside from the challenge.
Jonathan comes back from Exile Island, and, no, the idiot did not find the HII (Hidden immunity Idol). He is greeted by false hugs and greetings. How friggin' gay was that scene.
He gets right to work in building a shelter. His plan is to build a shelter floor, which I assume would be about a foot off of the ground. This is actually a great idea, and it is good to see that at least one member of Team Whitey is able to think. I was beginning to worry after Flicka (nappy haired chick) released the chickens.
I say one member, because Golden Boy starts pissin' and moanin' about having to build a floor.
"Why do we have to build a floor?"
"Because, it will keep us drier."
"How is it going to do that?"
OMFG. Are you serious? I forget which one of the girls had to explain it to him, but it went something like this: "Ummmm (real sarcastic tone here), because when it rains the water is on the ground?"
Either he A) didn't care about getting wet, or B) still didn't grasp the concept. He was still pissing and moaning.
Cut back to Surviving La Vida Loca camp, where there is a group meeting, minus Billy Boy. Billy is fast asleep, allegedly snoring so loud that the others can't sleep, which is what prompted this midnight meeting.
Ozzy, who we are now finding out is weasley, too, is suggesting that they throw the challenge just so they can vote off Billy. At the same time that he is saying this, there are great night vision shots of rats. Nice touch. The other guy is in on it, but chick cop doesn't think that it's such a good idea.
Next day. Tree mail!
Ok, meet the new SWA, minus Seku.
(oh, man, I just thought more about the musically segregated Survivor! You could have the Metal Tribe with Henry Rollins, Chris Cornell, Sebastian Bach, Angus Young, and some other metal guy. Techno Tribe could have Moby, Beck, Fat Boy Slim. Easy Listening Tribe could have James Taylor, Elton John, John Tesh, and Yanni. Dump the Opera Tribe, and replace it with a Boy Band Tribe. Fill that with whoever is in boy bands these days. I betcha John Tesh would end up kicking some ass. And, Henry Rollins would kick even more ass, because that's the kind of guy he seems to be)
Here is your challenge. It's one of those rope and maze and puzzle dealies. I think they were attached together with ropes around the waists. Go around this maze type thing, collect trivia answers. Go over the rope bridge. Put together the trivia answers and the questions to match. First three tribes win immunity. First tribe wins immunity and two tarps.
Probst tells a quick story about Captain Cook. This is what the trivia questions and answers are pertaining to. Teams have a chance to go right to the challenge, or read a book that retells the story to make sure they get the trivia portion right.
Quick note here. It was, like, a one paragraph story. Not rocket science.
Ok, tribes. Since SWA has only four members, every other team must sit one member out.
Now, it's not really important who Survivor Drop Soup or Team Whitey sits out. SLVL is discussing who should sit out. Billy Boy immediately volunteers, which makes sense, because he is a big, slow, dude. Kinda like an overweight sloth in a skull t-shirt. Ozzy says no, and the professional volleyball player, their strongest player, sits out instead. Let's not make this too obvious, okay?
Survivor's ready? GO!!!
SWA, SDS, and Team Whitey all dash out into the maze. SLVL stays behind to read the book. For crying out loud, if you're going to do something as lame as throwing the second challenge, at least make some sort of effort to not make it look like you are!!!
Long challenge short. SDS and Team Whitey both finish in a tie, both winning immunity and two tarps. SWA comes in a not even close third, which, when added to their making fire, is a well needed boost. SLVL comes in last, and gets to choose who to sent to EI (Exile Island... I'm liking this acronym thing).
Who do they pick? Yul, the smart Asian.
Who, incidentally, goes to EI, reads the clues, and has the HII within five minutes. Again, not rocket science.
Back to SLVL camp, where Billy Boy is talking to chick cop, desperately grabbing any straw that he can. She agrees to talk to the other chick, to see if the three of them can vote Ozzy off, because he is turning into a weasely rat. She agrees, and the plan is in place.
Tribal Council. Billy states that he knows the challenge was thrown, and he knows that he's on the chopping block.
Then the highlight of the show.
Let me just make a real brief recap here. The chick cop and the other chica have basically agreed to vote for Ozzy and keep Billy in the game.
I repeat. The chick cop and the other chica have basically agreed to vote for Ozzy and keep Billy in the game.
Billy says that there is only one real reason that he is playing the game. And that is "Love at first sight." And, her name is Candace. Apparently they had this "thing" on the boat, and mouthed the words "I love you" to each other.
Seriously, now. I fell off my couch I was laughing so damn hard.
I wasn't alone. Even Probst was dying laughing, as was the rest of SLVL.
Let's vote. The second person voted off of Survivor Cook Islands is none other and Psycho Billy Boy.
In the end shots, you see that it was a completely unamious vote. His completely off the wall... no, off the whole universe remark scared the crap out of the two chicas. And, I don't blame them. If I ever heard a guy say those same words, I'd be outta there soooooo quick.
According to the Survivor website, there are changes coming to S13E3. Pleasepleaseplease be a tribe merge. Be anything that makes this season less painful to watch.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Racial Survivor
The new Survivor is here! The new Survivor is here! Hooray!
As much controversy as this season's Survivor has caused in the media, I have to admit I was disappointed with the first episode. But, before I go any further, let me make this disclaimer. This season's Survivor is politically incorrect, so this blog about this season's Survivor is going to be politically incorrect too.
I'll give those of you who know me a moment to catch your breath, because you all know that I am **never** politically incorrect. ;)
Ok, so Survivor starts out on one of those old time schooners packed with the contestants. The ship stops, the anchor drops, and this crazy bell goes off. All the survivors start scrambling. Here comes Jeff Probst to explain the melee. The survivors have all of two minutes to loot the boat for whatever they can. The Whites and the Asians were both at a disadvantage here, as they are typically the ones on the other side of the looting. Just watch the others and learn, people. Survivors start grabbing machettes, logs, rope, crates, and, yes, even chickens. People are chopping bamboo rafts off the side of the boat. People start throwing things off of the boat. Not having put much thought into their actions, as is typically done in riot like situations, the things they are throwing overboard either A) bounce off the raft, or B) miss the raft completely, and presumably sink to the ocean floor.
"Get off the boat!" Probst yells, and the few survivors remaining on the schooner jump into the water and swim to their prospective rafts. Pan to several shots of the survivors floating on their racially segregated rafts, and you hear mumbling about how they think it is strange to be separated by race.
Ok, let me get two things straight here.
1) You weren't aware when they chose you for the show that tribes would be separated by race?
and
2) The thought of racially separated (no, I think I'm going to stick with segregated in this blog. It's not a word you get to use often, and it fits) tribes didn't cross your mind when you got on this schooner and saw more Asians, Hispanics, and Blacks than have been on all of the previous Survivor episodes combined???? Hmmmmm....
So, off to their respective islands. While they're paddling, let's roll the opening shot. Cue the Survivor music. Look, forgive me for not remembering the names of the tribes. It's only show one. I will make sure to get them when they're online, and add them to this blog. Nah, that's too much work. I'll just make up tribe names. Also, forgive me for jumping around in the story line. I was all gung ho about setting up my VCR to tape this so I could make a killer blog, but I got lazy and never did it. Besides, I don't have any blank tapes. And, Beth is out of town, so she couldn't TiVo it for me. Way to go, Beth.
And we have:
Survivor Drop Soup
Becky, the cute Korean chick who will probably whoop your ass
Brad, who looks a little light in the heels
Cao Boi, yeah, you say it "Cowboy", the Vietnamese hippie
Jenny, who looks like she might be Hawaiian
Yul, who looks like he would be a great ninja
Surviving La Vida Loca
Billy, the heavy metal guitarist, who looks the part
Cecelia, who has a funky looking face
Cristina, a chick cop from LA
JP, professional volleyball player (Jesus, is that really a job?)
Ozzy, the Beaner with moppy hair
SWA (Survivors With Attitude)
Nathan, in dreads (shudder... dreadlocks are so bogus)
Sekou, who is really not Asian, despite the name
Rebecca, New York chick
Sundra, New York chick #2
Stephannie, the odd man out
Team Whitey
Adam, the golden boy
Candice, the modern southern girl
Jessica, the freaky chick
Parvati, the chick whose name I thought was Pavoratti, until I read it again
Jonathan, the slightly hot older white guy I'm pulling to win. Not as hot as Tom and Terry, who were both absolutely babe-o-licious, but up there.
Back to scenes of the tribes rowing to their islands.
On the Survivor Drop Soup raft, Cao Boi is cracking more Asian jokes than I've heard in a long time. "Hey, how can five Asians on a raft be so heavy?" and something along the lines of "Eat more rice!", and his four tribemates seem to be getting peeved at this. Which is funny, because out of the five of them, he was the only one who actually was born and raised in Asia. That gives him the right to rag on Asians as much as he wants to. :)
Pan to the Surviving La Vida Loca tribe paddling. You overhear Billy Boy "My parents rowed away from an island on a raft, and now I'm rowing towards an island on a raft!" I guess that's the circle of life.
Cut to the shots of each tribe landing on the island and setting up camp.
The SWA Tribe gets together and talks about "representin'", and whatnot. They all explain that they are "city kids" and that this is their chance to show that Black people can swim, and things like that. Hey, everybody knows that black people can swim. That's not the stereotype. The stereotype is that they can't swim as well. Get your stereotypes right before trying to disprove them.
One of the chicks points out that they are in trouble, because "black people don't like being told what to do", or something along those lines, and they all share a laugh over that, which obviously means that they know it's true.
Cut to Surviving La Vida Loca setting up camp. Here comes Billy Boy talking about how strong he is, and all the work that he can do to help the tribe. Ok, Billy Boy, cut this bamboo stalk so we can build a shelter.
Billy Boy is all over that like a duck on a june bug. He just has his own special (needs) way of doing it. How is he going to cut that bamboo? With the machete? Noooo, that would actually make sense. He's going to cut it by banging the shit out of it against the palm tree. I don't think we ever got to see the shot showing if this actually worked or not.
Now they're trying to get coconuts. That was accomplished much easier. Little dude just shimmied up the tree like a spider monkey and knocked a lovel-ley bunch of coco-nuts down. Hoo-rah!
Cut to the Survivor Drop Soup tribe. We learn that Cao Boi may just be a little whacked. He's keeping the Asian jokes coming. Cao Boi up, my friend. Now we get to see a shot of him hunkered down and eating coconuts. It looks so natural, with his freakishly long hair. He could play the part of a savage very well.
Cut to Team Whitey landing. They all get there, and toast each other with some coconuts, and congratulate each other on kicking ass in the boat looting. Which is true, they did kick some ass. Jonathan, the slightly hot older White guy, even managed to steal a chicken from the Asians. One point for Jonathan. Because of that, Team Whitey now has two, count them, two chickens. They pack them under a crate for safekeeping.
Cut shot to Jessica, the chick with the freaky hair. "Wow, I'm such an outsider! We have the golden boy, the two girl's next door, and the family man" (yeah, chick, and that's one of the thing that makes him slightly hot!) "and then me, the freaky chick". Well, you shoulda thought about that before you got all these visible tattoos and did whatever the hell it was you did to your hair. You know if you're going to do something like that to yourself, you're going to stand out. So, don't complain when you stand out. Dur.
So, off goes Chickie (Jessica) walking around camp. She sees the crate that is temporarily housing the chickens, which are bound to be an excellent source of protein. What does she do? She promptly lifts the crate, setting the two chickens free. The men folk try to catch them, while Jonathan tries not to murder her right then and there. You even heard one of the other girls saying "Jessica, why would you do that?".
Uber-points against you on your first day, chickie.
We go back to Survivor Drop Soup, where one of the boys is complaining to Cao Boi that he's got a killer headache. Cao Boi tells him that he has a "Bad Wind" (it sounded like it should be capitalized) in him, and explains that he knows how to take care of it. So, Cao Boi goes over to the kid, and starts mashing the hell out of his face and head with his fingers and thumbs. The end result is this giant bright red hickie-looking mark on the kids forehead.
The kid heads back to camp, and the rest of the tribe laughs about what happened. HOWEVER! In a confessional, the kid does admit that it was pretty weird, but he NO LONGER HAS A HEADACHE. Hey, them Vietnamese know things.
Cut shot back to SWA, who are all gathered around trying to make fire. We see Sekou (who the chicks call "Se", which is not only easier to say, but easier to spell, so he will be referred to as such from this point forward) trying to make fire, with the rest of the tribe gathered around him. How many bla..... um, nevermind. But the point is, that he's going about it the wrong way.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a woodswoman or anything, but I've seen enough episodes of Survivorman to know that you're going about it the wrong way. He's sitting there slowly rubbing a stick back and forth between the groove in a split open log.
Admittedly, this is a way to make fire. However, I'm pretty sure that you need something crisp and flammable to catch the sparks. Also, I'm pretty sure that you have to rub the stick back and forth a little quicker than he was doing. After a few seconds, he gets up and says "I need a break", and proceeds to lie down on the raft.
Dude, you don't want to be slacking off on the first day!
Tree mail!!!!
Challenge for both immunity and reward. The first three tribes to complete the challenge get flint to build fire, and immunity. The first team to complete the challenge gets a fire kit, which is an ammo crate filled with kindling, waterproof matches, and kerosene.
"And, if you can't light a fire with kerosene, you should just go home right now." Probst says.
Only one girl from Surviving La Vida Loca laughs at this horrible, horrible joke. Don't laugh at Probst. It only encourages him.
Naturally, the last team goes to Tribal Council tonight. And, there is this tiny mystery envelope (seriously, couldn't CBS have afforded a bigger envelope?) that will be opened when the challenge is over.
Here's the challenge. All team members must race over a hill, down into a water filled gulch, back up the other side of the gulch, and down the beach. There is a raft that is in something like four pieces, that must be put together like a puzzle. There are about half a dozen planks with holes that fit over pegs on the raft that hold the raft together. Build the raft, paddle out into the ocean to the fire. Light your torch. Paddle back to the beach. Disassemble the raft. Take the planks back up and down the water filled gulch to a table, where you must assemble for smaller puzzles "N", "E", "S", and "W". Take the assembled mini puzzles, and the planks, and go over to this tribe colored wall. Put the planks on the pegs (which is a third type puzzle), climb half way up, put the mini puzzles in their respective places on the wall (this challenge is a plethora of puzzles), have your whole tribe climb the wall, and light the uber-torch with your smaller torch.
While chit chatting with the contestants, one of the Survivor Drop Soup members mentions that one of Team Whitey's members stole his chicken, and points out Jonathan.
"Was that your chicken? I didn't know.... I just saw the chicken and grabbed it." Jonathan stutters with a sly grin on his slightly attractive face.
Dude, I seen what ya'll did with that poor chicken. You just threw it's ass overboard, and nobody is even sure if chickens can swim. That chicken was fair game the instant it hit the water.
But, enough of that.
Survivors ready? Begin!
Surviving La Vida Loca very quickly assembles their raft, and the humor and dark irony does not escape me, as I giggle to myself. Survivor Drop Soup gets their raft together almost just as quick. Team Whitey is having a bit more difficulty, but finally gets it together. These three tribes all get out to the fire, and are almost back to the beach before SWA even gets their raft assembled and out on the water.
Surviving La Vida Loca is running back the beach with their planks, and go up and down the gulch rather quickly. The humor in this doesn't escape me, either. Hmm, this season's show should at least be funny. Survivor Drop Soup is right behind them.
Survivor Drop Soup quickly assembles their mini puzzles, puts the planks on the wall, puts the mini puzzles in the wall puzzle, climbs up, and lights the uber-torch, winning first place. Surviving La Vida Loca is right behind them.
Meanwhile, Team Whitey is still struggling to put the mini puzzles together. Come on, guys, it's not rocket science. Then again, I look back in sorrow at Dan Fuego failing at the challenge in last year's Survivor. And he actually was a rocket scientist. Well, an astronaut. Which is close enough in my book.
SWA has used Team Whitey's puzzle inaptitude to catch up with them, and are now working on their own mini puzzles. Team Whitey finally gets it together (pun intended), puts the planks on the wall, and begins to climb.
"You forgot your mini puzzles!" Probst yells. Back down they climb, assemble the wall puzzles with the mini puzzles, and climb the wall, lighting the uber-torch, and winning the third slot for immunity.
Survivor Drop Soup, Surviving La Vida Loca, and Team Whitey all win flints. Survivor Drop Soup wins the fire starting kit. SWA wins squat.
Or, do they?
Probst waves the miniscule envelope. Opens it up. The message inside informs us that the last place tribe gets to choose one member from one of the winning tribes to spend two, count them, two nights on Exile Island.
Aw, crap. You're not bringing that back again, are you?
SWA is all excited, thinking that this is a reward. Look, dummies, it's not a reward, so don't get all excited. All you're really getting is a chance for one of the opposing tribe members to find the hidden immunity island. So, see, going to Exile Island is not really a punishment.
Se and Nathan both take a step back to study the situation and make a decision, leaving the three women behind. I guess they didn't really stop to think that they should not be alienating the three women that obviously OUTNUMBER them.
Do they choose somebody from Survivor Drop Soup, who in this challenge has proven to be both intellectually and physically superior? No. They choose Jonathan, because he stole the chicken. This show keeps getting funnier and funnier! So, off Jonathan goes to Exile (uggh) Island, where he will hopefully find the hidden Immunity Idol which will carry him to F4. We do see Jonathan reading the clue, which seems to be a pretty good clue. It says something about finding a good grade, and finding the idol when an island to the south is out of sight. This obviously means that you have to find a "good grade", whatever that is, and walk away from it until you can no longer see an island to the south. Again, not rocket science. I bet he can figure that out. He didn't in tonight's show, but, there is always next week.
Let's take a quick flash back to last year's Exile Island. The first couple of people that were sent there walked around and around, digging holes everywhere looking for this idol. Then, smart, hot, Terry gets sent to Exile Island. Reads the clues. Thinks for a second. Walks over to a tree, digs a hole, and viola, he has the hidden Immunity Idol.
Once again, people, it's Survivor, not rocket science. Regardless of what Dan Fuego did last year.
Back to SWA camp. The two men are talking to each other, trying to decide which of the three women they should pull into an alliance with them, not realizing that they are all ready screwed. The three women are tight with each other, and you've all ready tried showing them that the two of you are boss. Dude, you won't be able to save yourselves now.
So, Se pulls Stephannie (which you would think is said "Steph Annie", but its just said "Stephanie") aside and tries to pull her into an alliance. "If you get rid of me or Nathan you won't make it! If you get rid of me, you won't have fire!"
Definite points to Stephannie for saying "But, we don't have fire now".
Off to tribal council. The two men vote for Sundra, and the three women vote for Se. The tribe has spoken.
Now, at the end of tribal council, Probst says "Since you've been to Tribal Council, you now have fire." and throws them a flint. HEY!!!!!! That's not fair! You've NEVER done that before! They still have to earn their fire! You're supposed to send them back to camp without their torches, because they have not earned fire yet! What the hell is this, fire welfare? SO not fair, Probst. They're supposed to earn fire, not have it given to them as a consolation prize. Hey. The name of the game is SURVIVOR. Not, here have fire without earning it because we honestly don't think you'll ever get it on your own because you're black.
More to come next Thursday, when we review S13E2 (Season 13, Episode 2).
As much controversy as this season's Survivor has caused in the media, I have to admit I was disappointed with the first episode. But, before I go any further, let me make this disclaimer. This season's Survivor is politically incorrect, so this blog about this season's Survivor is going to be politically incorrect too.
I'll give those of you who know me a moment to catch your breath, because you all know that I am **never** politically incorrect. ;)
Ok, so Survivor starts out on one of those old time schooners packed with the contestants. The ship stops, the anchor drops, and this crazy bell goes off. All the survivors start scrambling. Here comes Jeff Probst to explain the melee. The survivors have all of two minutes to loot the boat for whatever they can. The Whites and the Asians were both at a disadvantage here, as they are typically the ones on the other side of the looting. Just watch the others and learn, people. Survivors start grabbing machettes, logs, rope, crates, and, yes, even chickens. People are chopping bamboo rafts off the side of the boat. People start throwing things off of the boat. Not having put much thought into their actions, as is typically done in riot like situations, the things they are throwing overboard either A) bounce off the raft, or B) miss the raft completely, and presumably sink to the ocean floor.
"Get off the boat!" Probst yells, and the few survivors remaining on the schooner jump into the water and swim to their prospective rafts. Pan to several shots of the survivors floating on their racially segregated rafts, and you hear mumbling about how they think it is strange to be separated by race.
Ok, let me get two things straight here.
1) You weren't aware when they chose you for the show that tribes would be separated by race?
and
2) The thought of racially separated (no, I think I'm going to stick with segregated in this blog. It's not a word you get to use often, and it fits) tribes didn't cross your mind when you got on this schooner and saw more Asians, Hispanics, and Blacks than have been on all of the previous Survivor episodes combined???? Hmmmmm....
So, off to their respective islands. While they're paddling, let's roll the opening shot. Cue the Survivor music. Look, forgive me for not remembering the names of the tribes. It's only show one. I will make sure to get them when they're online, and add them to this blog. Nah, that's too much work. I'll just make up tribe names. Also, forgive me for jumping around in the story line. I was all gung ho about setting up my VCR to tape this so I could make a killer blog, but I got lazy and never did it. Besides, I don't have any blank tapes. And, Beth is out of town, so she couldn't TiVo it for me. Way to go, Beth.
And we have:
Survivor Drop Soup
Becky, the cute Korean chick who will probably whoop your ass
Brad, who looks a little light in the heels
Cao Boi, yeah, you say it "Cowboy", the Vietnamese hippie
Jenny, who looks like she might be Hawaiian
Yul, who looks like he would be a great ninja
Surviving La Vida Loca
Billy, the heavy metal guitarist, who looks the part
Cecelia, who has a funky looking face
Cristina, a chick cop from LA
JP, professional volleyball player (Jesus, is that really a job?)
Ozzy, the Beaner with moppy hair
SWA (Survivors With Attitude)
Nathan, in dreads (shudder... dreadlocks are so bogus)
Sekou, who is really not Asian, despite the name
Rebecca, New York chick
Sundra, New York chick #2
Stephannie, the odd man out
Team Whitey
Adam, the golden boy
Candice, the modern southern girl
Jessica, the freaky chick
Parvati, the chick whose name I thought was Pavoratti, until I read it again
Jonathan, the slightly hot older white guy I'm pulling to win. Not as hot as Tom and Terry, who were both absolutely babe-o-licious, but up there.
Back to scenes of the tribes rowing to their islands.
On the Survivor Drop Soup raft, Cao Boi is cracking more Asian jokes than I've heard in a long time. "Hey, how can five Asians on a raft be so heavy?" and something along the lines of "Eat more rice!", and his four tribemates seem to be getting peeved at this. Which is funny, because out of the five of them, he was the only one who actually was born and raised in Asia. That gives him the right to rag on Asians as much as he wants to. :)
Pan to the Surviving La Vida Loca tribe paddling. You overhear Billy Boy "My parents rowed away from an island on a raft, and now I'm rowing towards an island on a raft!" I guess that's the circle of life.
Cut to the shots of each tribe landing on the island and setting up camp.
The SWA Tribe gets together and talks about "representin'", and whatnot. They all explain that they are "city kids" and that this is their chance to show that Black people can swim, and things like that. Hey, everybody knows that black people can swim. That's not the stereotype. The stereotype is that they can't swim as well. Get your stereotypes right before trying to disprove them.
One of the chicks points out that they are in trouble, because "black people don't like being told what to do", or something along those lines, and they all share a laugh over that, which obviously means that they know it's true.
Cut to Surviving La Vida Loca setting up camp. Here comes Billy Boy talking about how strong he is, and all the work that he can do to help the tribe. Ok, Billy Boy, cut this bamboo stalk so we can build a shelter.
Billy Boy is all over that like a duck on a june bug. He just has his own special (needs) way of doing it. How is he going to cut that bamboo? With the machete? Noooo, that would actually make sense. He's going to cut it by banging the shit out of it against the palm tree. I don't think we ever got to see the shot showing if this actually worked or not.
Now they're trying to get coconuts. That was accomplished much easier. Little dude just shimmied up the tree like a spider monkey and knocked a lovel-ley bunch of coco-nuts down. Hoo-rah!
Cut to the Survivor Drop Soup tribe. We learn that Cao Boi may just be a little whacked. He's keeping the Asian jokes coming. Cao Boi up, my friend. Now we get to see a shot of him hunkered down and eating coconuts. It looks so natural, with his freakishly long hair. He could play the part of a savage very well.
Cut to Team Whitey landing. They all get there, and toast each other with some coconuts, and congratulate each other on kicking ass in the boat looting. Which is true, they did kick some ass. Jonathan, the slightly hot older White guy, even managed to steal a chicken from the Asians. One point for Jonathan. Because of that, Team Whitey now has two, count them, two chickens. They pack them under a crate for safekeeping.
Cut shot to Jessica, the chick with the freaky hair. "Wow, I'm such an outsider! We have the golden boy, the two girl's next door, and the family man" (yeah, chick, and that's one of the thing that makes him slightly hot!) "and then me, the freaky chick". Well, you shoulda thought about that before you got all these visible tattoos and did whatever the hell it was you did to your hair. You know if you're going to do something like that to yourself, you're going to stand out. So, don't complain when you stand out. Dur.
So, off goes Chickie (Jessica) walking around camp. She sees the crate that is temporarily housing the chickens, which are bound to be an excellent source of protein. What does she do? She promptly lifts the crate, setting the two chickens free. The men folk try to catch them, while Jonathan tries not to murder her right then and there. You even heard one of the other girls saying "Jessica, why would you do that?".
Uber-points against you on your first day, chickie.
We go back to Survivor Drop Soup, where one of the boys is complaining to Cao Boi that he's got a killer headache. Cao Boi tells him that he has a "Bad Wind" (it sounded like it should be capitalized) in him, and explains that he knows how to take care of it. So, Cao Boi goes over to the kid, and starts mashing the hell out of his face and head with his fingers and thumbs. The end result is this giant bright red hickie-looking mark on the kids forehead.
The kid heads back to camp, and the rest of the tribe laughs about what happened. HOWEVER! In a confessional, the kid does admit that it was pretty weird, but he NO LONGER HAS A HEADACHE. Hey, them Vietnamese know things.
Cut shot back to SWA, who are all gathered around trying to make fire. We see Sekou (who the chicks call "Se", which is not only easier to say, but easier to spell, so he will be referred to as such from this point forward) trying to make fire, with the rest of the tribe gathered around him. How many bla..... um, nevermind. But the point is, that he's going about it the wrong way.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a woodswoman or anything, but I've seen enough episodes of Survivorman to know that you're going about it the wrong way. He's sitting there slowly rubbing a stick back and forth between the groove in a split open log.
Admittedly, this is a way to make fire. However, I'm pretty sure that you need something crisp and flammable to catch the sparks. Also, I'm pretty sure that you have to rub the stick back and forth a little quicker than he was doing. After a few seconds, he gets up and says "I need a break", and proceeds to lie down on the raft.
Dude, you don't want to be slacking off on the first day!
Tree mail!!!!
Challenge for both immunity and reward. The first three tribes to complete the challenge get flint to build fire, and immunity. The first team to complete the challenge gets a fire kit, which is an ammo crate filled with kindling, waterproof matches, and kerosene.
"And, if you can't light a fire with kerosene, you should just go home right now." Probst says.
Only one girl from Surviving La Vida Loca laughs at this horrible, horrible joke. Don't laugh at Probst. It only encourages him.
Naturally, the last team goes to Tribal Council tonight. And, there is this tiny mystery envelope (seriously, couldn't CBS have afforded a bigger envelope?) that will be opened when the challenge is over.
Here's the challenge. All team members must race over a hill, down into a water filled gulch, back up the other side of the gulch, and down the beach. There is a raft that is in something like four pieces, that must be put together like a puzzle. There are about half a dozen planks with holes that fit over pegs on the raft that hold the raft together. Build the raft, paddle out into the ocean to the fire. Light your torch. Paddle back to the beach. Disassemble the raft. Take the planks back up and down the water filled gulch to a table, where you must assemble for smaller puzzles "N", "E", "S", and "W". Take the assembled mini puzzles, and the planks, and go over to this tribe colored wall. Put the planks on the pegs (which is a third type puzzle), climb half way up, put the mini puzzles in their respective places on the wall (this challenge is a plethora of puzzles), have your whole tribe climb the wall, and light the uber-torch with your smaller torch.
While chit chatting with the contestants, one of the Survivor Drop Soup members mentions that one of Team Whitey's members stole his chicken, and points out Jonathan.
"Was that your chicken? I didn't know.... I just saw the chicken and grabbed it." Jonathan stutters with a sly grin on his slightly attractive face.
Dude, I seen what ya'll did with that poor chicken. You just threw it's ass overboard, and nobody is even sure if chickens can swim. That chicken was fair game the instant it hit the water.
But, enough of that.
Survivors ready? Begin!
Surviving La Vida Loca very quickly assembles their raft, and the humor and dark irony does not escape me, as I giggle to myself. Survivor Drop Soup gets their raft together almost just as quick. Team Whitey is having a bit more difficulty, but finally gets it together. These three tribes all get out to the fire, and are almost back to the beach before SWA even gets their raft assembled and out on the water.
Surviving La Vida Loca is running back the beach with their planks, and go up and down the gulch rather quickly. The humor in this doesn't escape me, either. Hmm, this season's show should at least be funny. Survivor Drop Soup is right behind them.
Survivor Drop Soup quickly assembles their mini puzzles, puts the planks on the wall, puts the mini puzzles in the wall puzzle, climbs up, and lights the uber-torch, winning first place. Surviving La Vida Loca is right behind them.
Meanwhile, Team Whitey is still struggling to put the mini puzzles together. Come on, guys, it's not rocket science. Then again, I look back in sorrow at Dan Fuego failing at the challenge in last year's Survivor. And he actually was a rocket scientist. Well, an astronaut. Which is close enough in my book.
SWA has used Team Whitey's puzzle inaptitude to catch up with them, and are now working on their own mini puzzles. Team Whitey finally gets it together (pun intended), puts the planks on the wall, and begins to climb.
"You forgot your mini puzzles!" Probst yells. Back down they climb, assemble the wall puzzles with the mini puzzles, and climb the wall, lighting the uber-torch, and winning the third slot for immunity.
Survivor Drop Soup, Surviving La Vida Loca, and Team Whitey all win flints. Survivor Drop Soup wins the fire starting kit. SWA wins squat.
Or, do they?
Probst waves the miniscule envelope. Opens it up. The message inside informs us that the last place tribe gets to choose one member from one of the winning tribes to spend two, count them, two nights on Exile Island.
Aw, crap. You're not bringing that back again, are you?
SWA is all excited, thinking that this is a reward. Look, dummies, it's not a reward, so don't get all excited. All you're really getting is a chance for one of the opposing tribe members to find the hidden immunity island. So, see, going to Exile Island is not really a punishment.
Se and Nathan both take a step back to study the situation and make a decision, leaving the three women behind. I guess they didn't really stop to think that they should not be alienating the three women that obviously OUTNUMBER them.
Do they choose somebody from Survivor Drop Soup, who in this challenge has proven to be both intellectually and physically superior? No. They choose Jonathan, because he stole the chicken. This show keeps getting funnier and funnier! So, off Jonathan goes to Exile (uggh) Island, where he will hopefully find the hidden Immunity Idol which will carry him to F4. We do see Jonathan reading the clue, which seems to be a pretty good clue. It says something about finding a good grade, and finding the idol when an island to the south is out of sight. This obviously means that you have to find a "good grade", whatever that is, and walk away from it until you can no longer see an island to the south. Again, not rocket science. I bet he can figure that out. He didn't in tonight's show, but, there is always next week.
Let's take a quick flash back to last year's Exile Island. The first couple of people that were sent there walked around and around, digging holes everywhere looking for this idol. Then, smart, hot, Terry gets sent to Exile Island. Reads the clues. Thinks for a second. Walks over to a tree, digs a hole, and viola, he has the hidden Immunity Idol.
Once again, people, it's Survivor, not rocket science. Regardless of what Dan Fuego did last year.
Back to SWA camp. The two men are talking to each other, trying to decide which of the three women they should pull into an alliance with them, not realizing that they are all ready screwed. The three women are tight with each other, and you've all ready tried showing them that the two of you are boss. Dude, you won't be able to save yourselves now.
So, Se pulls Stephannie (which you would think is said "Steph Annie", but its just said "Stephanie") aside and tries to pull her into an alliance. "If you get rid of me or Nathan you won't make it! If you get rid of me, you won't have fire!"
Definite points to Stephannie for saying "But, we don't have fire now".
Off to tribal council. The two men vote for Sundra, and the three women vote for Se. The tribe has spoken.
Now, at the end of tribal council, Probst says "Since you've been to Tribal Council, you now have fire." and throws them a flint. HEY!!!!!! That's not fair! You've NEVER done that before! They still have to earn their fire! You're supposed to send them back to camp without their torches, because they have not earned fire yet! What the hell is this, fire welfare? SO not fair, Probst. They're supposed to earn fire, not have it given to them as a consolation prize. Hey. The name of the game is SURVIVOR. Not, here have fire without earning it because we honestly don't think you'll ever get it on your own because you're black.
More to come next Thursday, when we review S13E2 (Season 13, Episode 2).
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Hurricanes
Well, now there's a hurricane Gordon out there. Doesn't look like it's coming anywhere near anything, though, which I suppose isn't a bad thing. I tell you, though, they've got to stop giving these hurricanes wimpy names. "Ooooh, hurricane Katrina! I'm soooooo scared!" Yeah, we'll she showed you.
So, here is my list of hurricane names that are guaranteed to make people head for the hills:
Asswhoop
Benito
Charlie Manson
Death
Excrement
Fireball-o-Death
Grave Digger
Hell
Icestorm
Jamestown
Kahlid Sheik Muhammad
Lentil Soup
Mufasta
Nine-oh-two-one-oh
Oprah
Pray You Get Out Alive
Quentin Tarintino's Evil Twin
Red Alert
Tom Cruise and Katie Holme's Baby
Ugly Ass Mo-Fo
Vito
Waco, TX
X-Files
You Better Run
Zoo Animals on the Loose
Just watch out for hurricane Oprah. That one's gonna be a real bitch.
So, here is my list of hurricane names that are guaranteed to make people head for the hills:
Asswhoop
Benito
Charlie Manson
Death
Excrement
Fireball-o-Death
Grave Digger
Hell
Icestorm
Jamestown
Kahlid Sheik Muhammad
Lentil Soup
Mufasta
Nine-oh-two-one-oh
Oprah
Pray You Get Out Alive
Quentin Tarintino's Evil Twin
Red Alert
Tom Cruise and Katie Holme's Baby
Ugly Ass Mo-Fo
Vito
Waco, TX
X-Files
You Better Run
Zoo Animals on the Loose
Just watch out for hurricane Oprah. That one's gonna be a real bitch.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Office Senryu
Senryu is like haiku. Haiku deals with nature, while senryu deals with unnatural matters. Damn, those Japanese got it all covered.
Someone get the phone.
It is ringing off the hook.
Just hang up on them.
Who took my scisors?
I swear, things dissapear here.
We work with some theives.
Paper tray is jammed.
There is no paper stuck there!
God damn printer lies.
Someone went to jail.
Embezzlement is a crime.
See? Crime does not pay.
Monkeys flinging poo.
That is what this meeting is.
Incompentence sucks.
I can't take this job.
The bane of my existance.
I'm gonna die here.
Can I get a raise?
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
That is so funny!
Someone get the phone.
It is ringing off the hook.
Just hang up on them.
Who took my scisors?
I swear, things dissapear here.
We work with some theives.
Paper tray is jammed.
There is no paper stuck there!
God damn printer lies.
Someone went to jail.
Embezzlement is a crime.
See? Crime does not pay.
Monkeys flinging poo.
That is what this meeting is.
Incompentence sucks.
I can't take this job.
The bane of my existance.
I'm gonna die here.
Can I get a raise?
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
That is so funny!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
OMG, WTF?
So, here we all are on Friday morning at work, headed out to the smokers gazebo for the morning break, and what was there to greet us?
photo credits: Beth
Yeah. It's exactly what it looks like.
Underwear. In the middle of the driveway at work. And, to make things worse, I have confirmation that the underwear were not there at 8:00 when the work day began!
I know it's casual Friday, but come on!
How skanky do your underwear have to be to take them off when you get to work and throw them in the street?
And, to make things even worse, this is not the first time I've seen underwear at work!
We seriously work with some gross people.
Many thanks go out to Beth for documenting the renegade undies with her camera phone. :)
photo credits: Beth
Yeah. It's exactly what it looks like.
Underwear. In the middle of the driveway at work. And, to make things worse, I have confirmation that the underwear were not there at 8:00 when the work day began!
I know it's casual Friday, but come on!
How skanky do your underwear have to be to take them off when you get to work and throw them in the street?
And, to make things even worse, this is not the first time I've seen underwear at work!
We seriously work with some gross people.
Many thanks go out to Beth for documenting the renegade undies with her camera phone. :)
Thursday, September 07, 2006
90's Poetry
Here's my last post in my 90's writing.
I don't think any of you have ever read my poetry.
There's a perfectly good reason for that.
Let me just take a quick moment to interrupt here. Yes, I was going through a box of old stuff, and did find a notebook filled with stuff I wrote back in high school. It was all in this notebook that I decorated and used throughout my senior year.
Let's examine that notebook. Standard blue cheap $0.25 cent notebook. Ok, there's pictures I taped up there. There's a picture of a scary looking Uncle Sam, holding up a cardboard sign that says "will work for food", which I probably got from one my metal magazines. Next to that is a picture of a Spitfire (airplane). Next to that his a purple monster with the word "heavy" written over it. Next to that is a picture of Heinrich Himmler, which is halfway covering a sticker of a teddy bear. There's a picture of a cryptkeeper looking guy with a Mohawk, and pierced ears. A picture of a field of sunflowers. A picture of a skeleton with wings. A photocopy of the S.O.D. CD cover. Here's a picture of Mussolini, another picture of prisoners, a picture of American GI's in Vietnam. A skull & corresponds, a German eagle, and (the peice de resistance) an Apple computer sticker. Now comes the words. We have "Helter Skelter" pieced together in a ransom note fashion. Also, there's "Way Too Sick", and "Sacred Reich", which, BTW was a great band. Here comes the most disturbing part. Written in red nailpolish: "Piggies".
Ok, open the folder up, and here's a nice picture of the Beatles. There's a picture of the Beatles on the back cover of the notebook, too. No, not the hippie White Album Beatles, but the young I Want to Hold Your Hand Beatles.
I think it's pretty safe to say that I was a strange kid.
So, without further ado:
Poetry
Success
Working you fingers to the bone,
Only to receive a pat on the back,
And a meaningless "Job well done"
For twenty-five years of your life.
Working in the same office,
At the same desk,
In the same chair,
Answering the same phone,
For the same boss
For twenty-five years of your life.
By some fluke of nature
Your work is actually noticed.
You're called into the office.
What awaits you?
A promotion?
A raise?
A partnership?
No.
A "Job well done"
And a plaque of recognition
To sit on your desk
Another twenty-five years.
1/7/93
(hmm... a premonition of my life in 2006? No, my company never would give you a "job well done", let alone an actual plaque! And to be there for twenty-five years? I could only dream of that kind of job security)
---------------------------------------------------------
Mercy Lord - 1992
Sacrafice your young to me
Or you shall surely die.
Do not stop to question me
Or even ponder why.
Many young die innocent
In every single way
By the tender hand of the Mercy Lord
Who powers night and day.
He kills them fast and painlessly
To save them from this world
Where peace is gone and all that's left
Is the horror we've unfurled.
A toxic wind has swept the earth
Destroying all in its path;
Leaving sole survivors
To suffer in great wrath.
He guides them to the underworld
And starts them on their way
To living life in happiness
To run, to laugh, to play.
They now can live so carelessly
Without the fear and hate;
Or wondering why they were brought to
This dreaded world too late.
I, myself, the Lord Elect,
Contorl your very lives
I power joy and happiness
Until your own demise.
None around can take control,
I've got that in my hands,
There are none more intelligent
In here or far off lands.
How, you ask, can I stop this fate?
The answer is simply said.
Control the growth of toxic weapons;
Do not avenge the dead.
Put aside your petty fears
And think of all of man;
Join with friends and enemies
To save the sacred land.
1992
(uggh, I'm glad I'm older and wiser now! I totally support nukes, war, and avenging the dead. Thank god my liberal days are long gone!)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, that's enough embarrassment for now. I'm hoping this will get me back into my fiction writing.
Ok, let me just say one last thing.
Shut up!!!!
I don't think any of you have ever read my poetry.
There's a perfectly good reason for that.
Let me just take a quick moment to interrupt here. Yes, I was going through a box of old stuff, and did find a notebook filled with stuff I wrote back in high school. It was all in this notebook that I decorated and used throughout my senior year.
Let's examine that notebook. Standard blue cheap $0.25 cent notebook. Ok, there's pictures I taped up there. There's a picture of a scary looking Uncle Sam, holding up a cardboard sign that says "will work for food", which I probably got from one my metal magazines. Next to that is a picture of a Spitfire (airplane). Next to that his a purple monster with the word "heavy" written over it. Next to that is a picture of Heinrich Himmler, which is halfway covering a sticker of a teddy bear. There's a picture of a cryptkeeper looking guy with a Mohawk, and pierced ears. A picture of a field of sunflowers. A picture of a skeleton with wings. A photocopy of the S.O.D. CD cover. Here's a picture of Mussolini, another picture of prisoners, a picture of American GI's in Vietnam. A skull & corresponds, a German eagle, and (the peice de resistance) an Apple computer sticker. Now comes the words. We have "Helter Skelter" pieced together in a ransom note fashion. Also, there's "Way Too Sick", and "Sacred Reich", which, BTW was a great band. Here comes the most disturbing part. Written in red nailpolish: "Piggies".
Ok, open the folder up, and here's a nice picture of the Beatles. There's a picture of the Beatles on the back cover of the notebook, too. No, not the hippie White Album Beatles, but the young I Want to Hold Your Hand Beatles.
I think it's pretty safe to say that I was a strange kid.
So, without further ado:
Poetry
Success
Working you fingers to the bone,
Only to receive a pat on the back,
And a meaningless "Job well done"
For twenty-five years of your life.
Working in the same office,
At the same desk,
In the same chair,
Answering the same phone,
For the same boss
For twenty-five years of your life.
By some fluke of nature
Your work is actually noticed.
You're called into the office.
What awaits you?
A promotion?
A raise?
A partnership?
No.
A "Job well done"
And a plaque of recognition
To sit on your desk
Another twenty-five years.
1/7/93
(hmm... a premonition of my life in 2006? No, my company never would give you a "job well done", let alone an actual plaque! And to be there for twenty-five years? I could only dream of that kind of job security)
---------------------------------------------------------
Mercy Lord - 1992
Sacrafice your young to me
Or you shall surely die.
Do not stop to question me
Or even ponder why.
Many young die innocent
In every single way
By the tender hand of the Mercy Lord
Who powers night and day.
He kills them fast and painlessly
To save them from this world
Where peace is gone and all that's left
Is the horror we've unfurled.
A toxic wind has swept the earth
Destroying all in its path;
Leaving sole survivors
To suffer in great wrath.
He guides them to the underworld
And starts them on their way
To living life in happiness
To run, to laugh, to play.
They now can live so carelessly
Without the fear and hate;
Or wondering why they were brought to
This dreaded world too late.
I, myself, the Lord Elect,
Contorl your very lives
I power joy and happiness
Until your own demise.
None around can take control,
I've got that in my hands,
There are none more intelligent
In here or far off lands.
How, you ask, can I stop this fate?
The answer is simply said.
Control the growth of toxic weapons;
Do not avenge the dead.
Put aside your petty fears
And think of all of man;
Join with friends and enemies
To save the sacred land.
1992
(uggh, I'm glad I'm older and wiser now! I totally support nukes, war, and avenging the dead. Thank god my liberal days are long gone!)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, that's enough embarrassment for now. I'm hoping this will get me back into my fiction writing.
Ok, let me just say one last thing.
Shut up!!!!
The Life Cycle of a Belch
Here's another one from creative writing class, '91 or '92. The teacher comment on this was "This was funny and enjoyed by your peers as well". Can you guess who found her old notebooks from high school?
The Life Cycle of a Belch
Hello again, and welcome to the Wild World of High School. I'm Bea Boring, and I am your hostess this evening. Tonight we travel where no other wilderness documentary show has gone before. We study the life cycle of a belch.
To fully understand the creature we are studying, we must know the definition of the word. The dictionary tells us that to belch is "to expel gas noisily from the stomach through the mouth." A belch, whose Latin name is Belchius Grossius, is also known as a burp, or gas. Many things can cause a belch. Drinking soda or swallowing air. The stomach forces the unnecessary air up through the throat, and through the mouth. Depending on the shape of the mouth at the time, the passing air makes a rude sound.
Let us examine the birth of a belch. Contrary to what some believe, a belch begins its life before reaching the stomach. It is born in the mouth, as a bubble, or pocket of air. When the air is swallowed, gravity pulls it down towards the stomach. An unknown force, one that may have to do with the moon, repels the air back to its birth place. The life span of a belch can last anywhere from a few seconds to periods longer than 24 hours. A belch can be very painful for the host, therefore a belch is not always a pleasant visitor.
Let us now trace the difficult journey from the stomach to the mouth. On this strenuous trip, the young belch encounters many dangers. The belch must brave many attaching germs, and downpours of liquids. Here the belch may also encounter a chance to mate. There is nothing beautiful nor passionate about the mating habits of the belch. One belch simply runs into another until they eventually form one belch. The result of this union is usually a larger, louder emission of gas.
Here to explain the complex molecular structure of the belch is the famous German scientist Doctor Karl Wolf von dem weinerschnitzel aus Sauerkraut Katze Mause aus Berlin bon Schultz Heinz Mitagessen Flergen Flugen Dummkopf. Karl? Could you please explain?
"Well, we really can't say at this moment."
We can't say at this moment. What can we say? What can we do? What do we care? Where do we go? What do we think? Why am I writing this paper? Who knows? Here to answer is a professional badmitton player.
"Well, I...."
Very nice. My thoughts exactly.
Moving right along, we examine the death of a belch. When a belch dies, it lets the whole world know. It goes out with a bang, not a whimper.
This has been a Wild World of High School documentary. This is Bea Boring reporting. Good night, folks!
"Hey! You didn't let me finish my opinion!"
Oh, go away.
The Life Cycle of a Belch
Hello again, and welcome to the Wild World of High School. I'm Bea Boring, and I am your hostess this evening. Tonight we travel where no other wilderness documentary show has gone before. We study the life cycle of a belch.
To fully understand the creature we are studying, we must know the definition of the word. The dictionary tells us that to belch is "to expel gas noisily from the stomach through the mouth." A belch, whose Latin name is Belchius Grossius, is also known as a burp, or gas. Many things can cause a belch. Drinking soda or swallowing air. The stomach forces the unnecessary air up through the throat, and through the mouth. Depending on the shape of the mouth at the time, the passing air makes a rude sound.
Let us examine the birth of a belch. Contrary to what some believe, a belch begins its life before reaching the stomach. It is born in the mouth, as a bubble, or pocket of air. When the air is swallowed, gravity pulls it down towards the stomach. An unknown force, one that may have to do with the moon, repels the air back to its birth place. The life span of a belch can last anywhere from a few seconds to periods longer than 24 hours. A belch can be very painful for the host, therefore a belch is not always a pleasant visitor.
Let us now trace the difficult journey from the stomach to the mouth. On this strenuous trip, the young belch encounters many dangers. The belch must brave many attaching germs, and downpours of liquids. Here the belch may also encounter a chance to mate. There is nothing beautiful nor passionate about the mating habits of the belch. One belch simply runs into another until they eventually form one belch. The result of this union is usually a larger, louder emission of gas.
Here to explain the complex molecular structure of the belch is the famous German scientist Doctor Karl Wolf von dem weinerschnitzel aus Sauerkraut Katze Mause aus Berlin bon Schultz Heinz Mitagessen Flergen Flugen Dummkopf. Karl? Could you please explain?
"Well, we really can't say at this moment."
We can't say at this moment. What can we say? What can we do? What do we care? Where do we go? What do we think? Why am I writing this paper? Who knows? Here to answer is a professional badmitton player.
"Well, I...."
Very nice. My thoughts exactly.
Moving right along, we examine the death of a belch. When a belch dies, it lets the whole world know. It goes out with a bang, not a whimper.
This has been a Wild World of High School documentary. This is Bea Boring reporting. Good night, folks!
"Hey! You didn't let me finish my opinion!"
Oh, go away.
Fiction from the 90's
That story that I've been telling you all that I want to write? It's stuck, and I don't think it's going to come out for a while.
So, here is the original story I wrote, which inspired me to want to write a new one. This must have been written back in '96 or '97. I'm copying this verbatim from some notebook paper that has yellowed from cigarette smoke over the years.
You probably won't get as much enjoyment from this story unless you worked at good ol' Papa Gino's #138 between 1996-1997. So, just a quick background. Papa Gino's is a pizza shop. Ray was this short, fat, lazy, Chinese man that kept you guessing if he really was mentally retarded. Mike was the anal manager. Tim was the air headed delivery driver. Those were all real people. Perry is based on a real person, Phillip, who tried to strangle another worker one night.
Enjoy.
Untitled
1997
It seemed like an ordinary Sunday night, as Papa Gino's Bridgewater began closing the store.
Tim, the manager, was out sick with the Tibetan flu, and Mike couldn't be reached, so, like a good PapaPerson, Ray offered to close the store.
At about 9:45 the college bus pulled up, and a large gang of young men with baggy pants and nappy hair got out and headed towards Papa Gino's.
The new kid, Perry, looked out the window at the would be customers, and shuddered. He knew that something wasn't right as they walked into the store.
The biggest one, with the nappiest hair, stepped up to Papa 3 and looked impatient waiting for service. Perry walked over slowly.
"May I help you, sir?" he nervously asked.
"Yeah. Give me three large breadsticks, a small cheese pizza, three cokes.... AND ALL YOUR MONEY, FOOL!" He finished with a mean yell. One of the men locked the door and pulled out a 9mm. Three others, including the one at the register, pulled out guns, too.
"Now, dorkface!" He yelled, pointing the gun at Perry.
"I can't! I don't have the keys!" Perry stuttered. He backed away to the far end of the pizza bench, where he fell into the fetal position against the wall.
"Wrong answer, looser!" The man yelled, and shot Perry three times in the chest.
Just then, Tim, the delivery driver, walked in through the driver's door. Seeing a large group of nappy headed punks, he dropped to the floor and slowly crawled around to the back of the store.
"Ray! They've shot Perry! You've got to do something!" Tim yelled. He picked up the phone and began to call the police.
"Where the hell is the money?!?" The gang leader yelled, clearly getting angry. "I'm getting pissed! Give me the money or more are going to die!"
Ray peeked around the corner to assess the situation. There were six of them, three of them with guns. They were bigger than anybody in the store. Maybe Perry was as big as their shortest, but he's dead, what difference did that make?
Ray had a plan. He sent Tim up front with a giant set of keys.
"Stall them" he said, hurrying out back.
"Ok, man. Ok, man. I've got the keys." Tim said, working his way over to the register.
"Well, hurry the hell up and give me my damn money!"
Tim pulled the drawer out, and made a big production of trying to find the right key.
"It's got to be here somewhere! Ha ha! Can never find it when you need it, huh? Ha ha!" Tim laughed nervously.
"HURRY!"
Suddenly, Ray stepped out from behind the grill.
"I don't think so, assholes! Duck, Tim!" He yelled as he threw a ladle full of hot Fry-o-Later oil at the vigilantes. One throw hit the gang leader square in the face.
"Aaauuuggghhhhh!" he screamed. By the time he was able to see again, Ray was gone.
Tim had ran out the door, and was waiting inside Blockbuster for the police.
Back inside, the gang was getting nervous.
"Man,we gotta leave! This ain't working! The police are going to get here soon! I don't want to go to jail!" One of the gang members screamed.
"Yea, I know! We gotta split, man!" another agreed.
"No! We stay here! That man's going down!" the gang leader said.
"So you think!" Ray hollered. He began throwing frozen hamburg patties at the gang like they were Chinese Death Stars. They all hit with deadly accuracy.
Four ran out the door, and one lie unconscious by the gumball machine.
That left two.
"Get out of my store!" Ray yelled.
"Man, I ain't leaving until you give me my money!"
"The only thing I'm going to give you is a headache, pal!" Ray yelled back.
Using a thick pan cover as a shield, he made is way over to the front counter. He lifted a bucket he had hidden on the floor.
"Eat this, monkey boy!"
He heaved the bucket, which was filled with sopping wet dough, at the men. It slimed all over one of them, and he fell into a writhing ball on the floor as he tried to get the dough off.
"Now it's just you and me, nappy haired one!" Ray said with a wicked laugh.
The gang leader raised his gun, but it was too late. Ray had jumped over the counter and kicked him in the head.
The police walked in (finally), and it took two of them to pull Ray off the guy, who was now crying.
"Good job, Ray!" They said. They collected the guns as evidence, and left.
Tim came back in and helped Ray clean up the store. They closed up and went home.
"You know? I have a funny feeling we forgot something, Ray" Tim said.
"Don't worry, well get it tomorrow. It was a hectic night, Mike will understand" Ray said as he got into his car and drove home.
The next morning Ray and Tim walked into the store. By the sound of Mike's scream, they now remembered they had forgotten about Perry's corpse.
They laughed and laughed, and hoped that Mike really would understand.
So, here is the original story I wrote, which inspired me to want to write a new one. This must have been written back in '96 or '97. I'm copying this verbatim from some notebook paper that has yellowed from cigarette smoke over the years.
You probably won't get as much enjoyment from this story unless you worked at good ol' Papa Gino's #138 between 1996-1997. So, just a quick background. Papa Gino's is a pizza shop. Ray was this short, fat, lazy, Chinese man that kept you guessing if he really was mentally retarded. Mike was the anal manager. Tim was the air headed delivery driver. Those were all real people. Perry is based on a real person, Phillip, who tried to strangle another worker one night.
Enjoy.
Untitled
1997
It seemed like an ordinary Sunday night, as Papa Gino's Bridgewater began closing the store.
Tim, the manager, was out sick with the Tibetan flu, and Mike couldn't be reached, so, like a good PapaPerson, Ray offered to close the store.
At about 9:45 the college bus pulled up, and a large gang of young men with baggy pants and nappy hair got out and headed towards Papa Gino's.
The new kid, Perry, looked out the window at the would be customers, and shuddered. He knew that something wasn't right as they walked into the store.
The biggest one, with the nappiest hair, stepped up to Papa 3 and looked impatient waiting for service. Perry walked over slowly.
"May I help you, sir?" he nervously asked.
"Yeah. Give me three large breadsticks, a small cheese pizza, three cokes.... AND ALL YOUR MONEY, FOOL!" He finished with a mean yell. One of the men locked the door and pulled out a 9mm. Three others, including the one at the register, pulled out guns, too.
"Now, dorkface!" He yelled, pointing the gun at Perry.
"I can't! I don't have the keys!" Perry stuttered. He backed away to the far end of the pizza bench, where he fell into the fetal position against the wall.
"Wrong answer, looser!" The man yelled, and shot Perry three times in the chest.
Just then, Tim, the delivery driver, walked in through the driver's door. Seeing a large group of nappy headed punks, he dropped to the floor and slowly crawled around to the back of the store.
"Ray! They've shot Perry! You've got to do something!" Tim yelled. He picked up the phone and began to call the police.
"Where the hell is the money?!?" The gang leader yelled, clearly getting angry. "I'm getting pissed! Give me the money or more are going to die!"
Ray peeked around the corner to assess the situation. There were six of them, three of them with guns. They were bigger than anybody in the store. Maybe Perry was as big as their shortest, but he's dead, what difference did that make?
Ray had a plan. He sent Tim up front with a giant set of keys.
"Stall them" he said, hurrying out back.
"Ok, man. Ok, man. I've got the keys." Tim said, working his way over to the register.
"Well, hurry the hell up and give me my damn money!"
Tim pulled the drawer out, and made a big production of trying to find the right key.
"It's got to be here somewhere! Ha ha! Can never find it when you need it, huh? Ha ha!" Tim laughed nervously.
"HURRY!"
Suddenly, Ray stepped out from behind the grill.
"I don't think so, assholes! Duck, Tim!" He yelled as he threw a ladle full of hot Fry-o-Later oil at the vigilantes. One throw hit the gang leader square in the face.
"Aaauuuggghhhhh!" he screamed. By the time he was able to see again, Ray was gone.
Tim had ran out the door, and was waiting inside Blockbuster for the police.
Back inside, the gang was getting nervous.
"Man,we gotta leave! This ain't working! The police are going to get here soon! I don't want to go to jail!" One of the gang members screamed.
"Yea, I know! We gotta split, man!" another agreed.
"No! We stay here! That man's going down!" the gang leader said.
"So you think!" Ray hollered. He began throwing frozen hamburg patties at the gang like they were Chinese Death Stars. They all hit with deadly accuracy.
Four ran out the door, and one lie unconscious by the gumball machine.
That left two.
"Get out of my store!" Ray yelled.
"Man, I ain't leaving until you give me my money!"
"The only thing I'm going to give you is a headache, pal!" Ray yelled back.
Using a thick pan cover as a shield, he made is way over to the front counter. He lifted a bucket he had hidden on the floor.
"Eat this, monkey boy!"
He heaved the bucket, which was filled with sopping wet dough, at the men. It slimed all over one of them, and he fell into a writhing ball on the floor as he tried to get the dough off.
"Now it's just you and me, nappy haired one!" Ray said with a wicked laugh.
The gang leader raised his gun, but it was too late. Ray had jumped over the counter and kicked him in the head.
The police walked in (finally), and it took two of them to pull Ray off the guy, who was now crying.
"Good job, Ray!" They said. They collected the guns as evidence, and left.
Tim came back in and helped Ray clean up the store. They closed up and went home.
"You know? I have a funny feeling we forgot something, Ray" Tim said.
"Don't worry, well get it tomorrow. It was a hectic night, Mike will understand" Ray said as he got into his car and drove home.
The next morning Ray and Tim walked into the store. By the sound of Mike's scream, they now remembered they had forgotten about Perry's corpse.
They laughed and laughed, and hoped that Mike really would understand.
Bumper Stickers - Part Deux
Hooray! It's time for more bumper sticker fun! Woo-hoo! Keep on expressing yourself via the back end of your car, Tallahassee! We love ya!
1- "Silly Boys, Trucks are for Girls!" - Okay. I love this bumper sticker. In fact, if you're ever out shopping and see one of these stickers, please pick it up for me. I will pay you back. Unless it's some horrible color like orange. Then never mind, but thank you anyways.
2- "Dave Matthews for President" - Is this really the best candidate you can find for the job? Come on, the band was just okay, not phenomenal or anything. I can see it now... peace talks with a hostile country turning into days long jam sessions.
3 - "If you can read this, thank a teacher. If it's in English, thank a soldier." - True dat. I know that the first thing a foreign occupying government would do is take over the bumper sticker industry, which would just be tragic.
4 - "This car is headed to Tao Kwan Do" - Whoopee! That's a great thing to deter carjackers. Now they have to wait until you're inside the Tae Kwan Do, um, gym (??) to steal your car.
5 - "How do you spell relief? Alloy, Williams, and Fletcher Bail Bonds" - Ooooookaaaaaay. So, you're proud that you had to get your ass bailed out of jail?
6 - "I (heart symbol) My Wife" - I bet you didn't (heart symbol) her so much after she made you put that gay bumper sticker on your car!
7 - "Willkillya County" - I think I may have touched on this one before, but it is so good it deserves a second mention.
8 - Ok, this one isn't really a bumper sticker, but it is bumper related, so here goes. Here's this rust bucket red Toyota Corolla from 1980-whatnot. It's rear bumper has fallen off. So, the driver, needing a bumper, replaces it with a pressure treated 2x4. That's redneck ingenuity for ya!
1- "Silly Boys, Trucks are for Girls!" - Okay. I love this bumper sticker. In fact, if you're ever out shopping and see one of these stickers, please pick it up for me. I will pay you back. Unless it's some horrible color like orange. Then never mind, but thank you anyways.
2- "Dave Matthews for President" - Is this really the best candidate you can find for the job? Come on, the band was just okay, not phenomenal or anything. I can see it now... peace talks with a hostile country turning into days long jam sessions.
3 - "If you can read this, thank a teacher. If it's in English, thank a soldier." - True dat. I know that the first thing a foreign occupying government would do is take over the bumper sticker industry, which would just be tragic.
4 - "This car is headed to Tao Kwan Do" - Whoopee! That's a great thing to deter carjackers. Now they have to wait until you're inside the Tae Kwan Do, um, gym (??) to steal your car.
5 - "How do you spell relief? Alloy, Williams, and Fletcher Bail Bonds" - Ooooookaaaaaay. So, you're proud that you had to get your ass bailed out of jail?
6 - "I (heart symbol) My Wife" - I bet you didn't (heart symbol) her so much after she made you put that gay bumper sticker on your car!
7 - "Willkillya County" - I think I may have touched on this one before, but it is so good it deserves a second mention.
8 - Ok, this one isn't really a bumper sticker, but it is bumper related, so here goes. Here's this rust bucket red Toyota Corolla from 1980-whatnot. It's rear bumper has fallen off. So, the driver, needing a bumper, replaces it with a pressure treated 2x4. That's redneck ingenuity for ya!
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