I'M BACK!

Ok, to all three of you who occasionally stop by and read this garbage, I sincerely apologize for the brief hiatus in my posting. I had a really busy week getting my things together so I could move back to Lubbock (the LBK) for school, and let me tell you, I had a lot of fun while doing it. I got to spend some time with good friends and even my family for a little bit. So here I am. The posts should flow like wine now that I'm at Tech, because, well, there’s a lot of a funny drunk person around all the time. No longer will I be leaving my room without a camera. No, it will be awesome. So...

Wreck 'EM!

...And Now, The Conclusion!

Ok, so I've spent the past few days in a trance-like state, doing my best to give an accurate play by play of how the fight between Mr. T and MacGyver would go down. After several hours of thought and prayer, I think I've got it. Also, since I am the self-proclaimed master of all that is trivial, any suggestion that the fight would differ in any way from the account listed here will be ridiculed and furthermore ignored by the author, so step off B. Here it goes. One day Mr. T. is making his daily rounds in his 1983 GMC Custom Van when he come across some kids vandalizing a youth center. Hold on a sec, and behold the glory of Mr. T's sweet van. Right, on with it then. So as Mr. T emerges to beat the children to a bloody pulp, he fails to realize they're not children at all, they're construction workers, and they're actually building a youth center, not destroying one. To add to the confusion, he also believes the white paint they're using on the walls is some form of poisoned milk meant to harm the children. Things are not looking good for the workers who have all wet their pants by this point in anticipation of the vicious unwarranted beating that awaits them. Little did any of them know that high above the clouds, in a hang glider constructed entirely out of pixie stick tubes and hot-glued pine needles, MacGyver is patrolling the skies. Seeing everything that's happening below, Mac takes action and begins his descent upon the construction site. While the sight of the flying man distracts T, the workers escape, which further incites him to rage. In this moment of weakness, MacGyver, wielding a lasso he made out of dead skin cells and wolverine fur, disarms T of his large machine gun (Mac hates guns!). It is so on. Before Mac hits the ground, T throws a minute boulder (see below) at him, thoroughly disabling his glider and plummeting both to the ground.

A Minute Boulder

As Mac comes to, he wakes to the blurred image of a large fist reigning blow after blow upon his face. This simply would not do. Mac uses his feet to throw T off and escapes into the woods. T tries to follow in his van, but Mac hides in a hollow tree trunk to avoid detection. Mac considers his options. He could either make a rail gun out of an old hair dryer, part of a tape player, and his top right molar, or a small cold fusion device out of a bag of cheetos puffs.

Revel In The Awesome Power!

As Mac plots and plans his attack, Mr. T does what he does best. He drinks some milk and gets really pissed. So pissed in fact, he begins up-rooting the trees of the forest one by one and throwing them obscene distances. Mac's cover is prematurely blown and he is once again forced into open combat. Mr. T, who obviously has the physical upper hand, wails unmercifully on MacGyver. Right as he's about to lose consciousness, Mac notices a rare ivy growth, that if mixed with methane, could cause certain elements, such as gold, to superheat. Mac grabs some of the leaves, stuffs them in T's front pocket, rolls on his stomach and thanks god Taco Bell was the only thing open the night before. As his flagellant fills the air, the gold chains around Mr. T's neck begin to heat up, eventually melting though his neck and decapitating him. Mac stumbles away, combing through his mullet, grateful that his superior intellect had saved him yet again when all the sudden...
Yeah, you guessed it. Mac and Mr. T were definitely fighting in the same forest that Arnold and the Predator were throwin' down in, so when that wanker Predator decided to self destruct, Mac and T are both incinerated in the blast.What a wanker!

You may be asking yourself then, who won the fight? Was it Mac because T. died first, or did the explosion nullify the entire battle? Well my friends, the answer is simple. It doesn't matter. The point of all this is that Dutch from the Predator would kick both their collective backsides! Arnold Rules!"Rest in peace you ugly mother f---ers!"

Battle Royale Suck'a

As you may have noticed, it was brought to my attention that I left out one of the greatest role models of all time:
Angus MacGyver


Now to those of you who don't know who MacGyver is...get the heck off my site! MacGyver is only the coolest guy to ever wear a mullet. Mac works for some kind of secret foundation, the Phoniex Foundation, which basically sends him around the world to get in trouble. He always teams up with the underdogs in some random situation in a most random of places. When in a pinch, he's know to be incredibly resourcesful, such as repairing a truck with a ball point pen, putting out oil well fires with some scrap metal, an old jeep, and some dynamite, muaking a powered glider out of bamboo, trashbags, and a lawmower engine, plugging up an acid spill with a candy bar, and creating roadmines out of tree sap and pine cones! Ladies and gentlemen, I submit it does not get any better than that. Why, you might ask, with all these skills would I not list MacGyver as a ust have role model for young men like myself? My reasons were threefold: (a) That post was about younger role models (2) I was late for the train (D) I was saving this subject for a much more important post.
Thus, I give you the most important question of the 80's, no, dare I say, the millenium!
WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT: B.A. BARRACUS of the A-Team, or MACGYVER?

Ok, I got some teeth pulled and I'm pretty wasted at the moment...soo to be continued!

As Long As We've Got Each Other...

There are a lot of great role models for a man of such young age as myself. I'm not talking about real role models either, I'm talking about the fake one, the ones on TV that in all actuality are terrible examples of how to go about life. Man, do they have fun though. Today is my official ode to all that is Man/Boy. I give you the bringers of adolescent widom:

FERRIS BEULLER: Ultimate 80's Role Model

Base: Chicago, IL
Marital Status: Single/Dating
Occupation: Student/Anthropologist/Sausage King of Chicago
Alter Ego(s): Beuller....Beuller; Abe Froman; Mr. Peterman
Nemesis: Jeannie Beuller; Edward Rooney
Favorite Quote: "So choice."

Ferris is the ultimate 80's school cutting hero. When he's not getting freshmen out of summer school, he's taking his best buds out for the time of their lives when they should be blowing a perfectly good day at school. In my opinion, he is the pinnacle of student ideals. Also known to anger sister, and makeout with hot chicks.

VAN WILDER: Putting the "Cool" in Coolidge For the Better Part of a Decade

Base: Coolidge College
Marital Status: HA HA HA, you're kidding, right?
Ocupation: Student/ Anthropologist/ Party Planner
Alter Ego(s): Van the Man; Vance Wilder Jr.; The Raddest F---ing Dude Alive
Nemesis: The future, Richard the DIK, Professor McDoogle
Favorite Quote: "Don't take life to seriously, or you'll never make it out alive...write that down."

With experience comes mastery, and that's why after 7 years of school, Van Wilder is a paragon of party know how. Smart, fast, and given to philisophical quoting, this 3rd year Senior has a 3.0...blood alcohol level that is. Yes, and while he may be a bit of a wanker for giving up his swinger lifestyle, Tara Reid was looking pretty good in those days. I would gladly invite this King of Coolidge to any parties I may throw, just as long as he isn't bringing any homemade baked goods.

MIKE SEAVER: Family Man

Base: Long Island, New York
Marital Status: Now Married
Ocupation: Student/Burger Flipper/ Teacher
Alter Ego(s): Seaver, Class of 85
Nemesis: Father's Physcobable
Favorite Quote: "I've got everything under control."

Mike is a perfect example of what every man who can't make something of himself should be; a royal pain in everyones backside. Not only was he constantly failing school, but he thirved on his reputation of failure. His dad totally ruined his schemes all the time, otherwise he probably wouldn't have gone on to do all those stupid Left Behind movies...stupid Kirk Cameron.

And there you have it. If you can't be like these people or haven't already, then your life is meaningless.

Picture Perfect

Ok, the past 24hrs. has been exceptionaly wierd. So, due to the fact that I can't really explain it all with words, I'll give you a pictorial tour and let you draw our own conclusions...

























Now I realize that this page is a product of pure laziness. If you let me get away with it this time, I promise, in the future, all my pages will be this bad.

Gimme Some Blues

All right. I have an official grievance to file with, well, with a lot of people. As of Sunday evening, I have been on a quest of sorts. A quest to acquire one of the most groundbreaking comedies of the 20th century, or rather, all time. I must have a copy of The Blues Brothers.

Man, I'm totally getting a black tie for my black suit my Gram bought me!

Fact of the matter is, it's an amazing movie, not just for a Belushi/Akroid fan such as myself, but for anyone with any interest in laughing or the blues. It was late in the evening when my quest began, around 11 PM. I enlisted my little brother, Jake, to assist me on my sojourn, but alas, he was of no help. In fact, he talked me into buying crap I don't need, but that's totally unrelated. Our first stop was Wal-Mart. Now why on earth, you might ask, would a devout Targetian like myself, look to Wal-Mart to fulfill his late night movie purchasing needs? Because every respectable retailer is closed at that hour. Don't judge me. As I arrived in what Wal-Mart's marketing and ad campaigns claim to be a virtual paragon movie selection, I found myself lost in a maze of disarray that mildly resembled an enlarged version of my high school locker. Movies, TV box sets and PSP games were scattered everywhere behind the new security glass shelves at the store. My frustration with the lack of organization turned quickly to anger when and extensive search turned up no Blues Brothers. As the fury grew within, I decided, as I normally do at any fine retailer when I can't find what I’m looking for, to ask a sales associate for help. I approached and elderly women at the electronics desk who looked something like this:

That's right ladies and gentlemen, Bob Dole wears a wig and works at Wal-Mart.

Let me give you an approximate transcription of the conversation between us:

JMH- Excuse me ma’am, I was wondering if you have a copy of The Blues Brothers in stock?

Bob Dole- I don't know (said with a determined scowl on her face, much like the cranky face of Bill O'Reilly)

JMH- Well is there any way you could look it up to see...

Bob Dole-...Did you check those two aisles? (looking more and more like O'Reilly)

JMH- Well, yes, and I didn't see...

Bob Dole-...Then we don't have it (totally cut my mic off)

And that was it. My fury turned to discouragement. How is it that in all the crap this Chinese whorehouse sells they don't have a copy of the Blues Brothers? My discouragement became determination. I would not rest until I had my own copy of The Blues Brothers! Two days, five stores and fourteen hours of sleep later, I still am Blues Brothers-less. If I were a bigger man, I would dig up Sam Walton's grave and beat his face.


Ha ha, what a douche.

A Weekend in Review

I've noticed something very strange since I got home from school and started working. When I come in to the office on Monday, and have the obligatory BS conversations with my co-workers, i.e. the "so what did you do this weekend?" question, I never know how to answer. It's not because I didn't do anything for the weekend, I just can't remember what. Now before you jump to what would be my foremost conclusion, let me go on to say that alcohol is not a factor. It's as though the mind numbing brain-burn that forms Monday through Friday has actually robbed my mind of the ability to retain memory of the sparse enjoyable moments in my week. This is simply unacceptable. However, I will say this weekend was slightly different. Thus, I present you with...

...a mild mannered review.
This movie was so awesome and fun. Much like Wedding Crasher (so choice), this movie contained little to no plot coherency, or so much as a shred of believability, but it was very entertaining! You’re cracking up at the Sean William Scott/ Johnny Knoxville duo, marveling at the insane car stunts (I drove like a moron the whole way home), or reminiscing during the Super Troopers cameo.
Oh yeah, and there's this...

No comment.
I highly recommend this movie to anyone looking for a good time, easy going movie with just a hint of nostalgia.

On to the rest of the weekend. I went to my better half’s parent's small group party on Saturday and actually had a good amount of fun. I piled three kids on my shoulders in the pool and made a human tower that was about 8 feet tall. It was genius. That night I also watched one of the greatest films of all time: Home Alone. The one-liners kill me. "Buzz! Your girlfriend...Woof!." Oh man, that never gets old.

Remember when every kid would do this for hours? Yeah, I think child-abuse spiked in 1990 because of this movie...and yes, that is Darth Vader and C3PO in the background...don't ask.

My Idea of a Cheap Date

First off, I don't want people to get the wrong idea. I am not setting any kind of pattern on this site, i.e. criticize something one day, and praise something else the next. I severely doubt anyone other than me is concerned with this, but it makes me feel better now that it's out there. Good. Glad we cleared the air. That being said, I feel compelled to talk about America's saving grace. In a time of severe political, social, and economic retardation, with the constant threat of eminent destruction at the hands of our incompetent politicians, Chinese businessmen, and our own, I see one enterprise that shines as a beacon above the rest. Yes folks, you guessed it. I'm talking about the one and only...

(Pronounced tar-j'ay for the more sophisticated readers)

Oh man, this store is so awesome it makes me want to pee my pants. I mean, what doesn't Target have? My lady friend and I probably go in there about 4 times a week, and seldom do I even make a purchase. It's the atmosphere that makes me come back time and again. Lest I forget to mention their clothing selection! If you dont buy a good percentage of your clothing at Target, you are seriously missing out. Secondly, their electronics center, well stocked with classics of new and old, even beat mega-stores such as Best Buy and Fry's when it comes to costs. While their prices don't quite approach the economy destroying, producer killing, gateway for the east providing Wal-Mart, I tell you sir or madam, the pennies on the dollar extra I spend on a purchase at Target compared to Wally World definitely goes the distance. With the newer stores featuring a built in Starbucks, this should all but start putting Wal-Mart and their trash ridden, sticky floored, stench filled company out of business. So I ask you, dear citizen: can you put a price on class? My answer: I think not. Here are some of the fine products I've purchased at Target (aka, the pinnacle of human achievement):

Smallville Season 2 DVD Set

Aquateen Hunger Force Volume 2 DVD Set

SD 256 Flash Memory (for my 4.0 megapixel Samsung camera I got at Target for $99 at Christmas)

Griffin PowerPod (to replace my first iPod adapter, purchased at *another* store, which broke)

...and last but not least, my dignity (not pictured). Oh man, Target should really be paying me for this crap. Target RULES!!!

Just Let Me Read

Every workday for the last 4 months I have enjoyed the "diverse cultural" experience that is the DART Rail System. When I arrive at the station, I purchase a ticket at an electronic kiosk, and then proceed to board the train. From the moment I sit down to the moment I arrive downtown is the only time of the day I am guaranteed some fairly quiet time to read. Sure, there's been the occasional impromptu "rap" by some of the more sultry of the passengers, but for the most part I have enjoyed my hour long commute and all the time it allows me to not interact with anyone else. That was until about two weeks ago. As I was sitting there on the train, book in hand, with Miles Davis blaring in my trendy apple headphones, I was suddenly interrupted by a forceful tap on the shoulder. Turning to see if I was being accosted by one of Dallas' bristling homeless population, my dismay became even greater when I saw this.

A DART Police Officer's Stupid Patch!

Before I could even pull the headphones out of my ears, a member of DART'S finest was standing before me making some asinine hand gestures, similar to the motions a newborn baby makes before they gain full control of their motor functions. After a few seconds of me awkwardly trying to explain to the officer that I still didn't know what he wanted, I was relieved to discover it was only my ticket he was after. I showed him that I was a responsible, honest, law abiding customer of public transportation and he left. As the doors shut behind him at the next stop, my only other thought on the matter was that I had never been asked for my ticket before. Little did I know that this non-descript encounter would signal the interruption of my peaceful commute forever. Now, everyday, I am so fortunate as to be harassed by one of the following individuals.

Notice the one the left...so stupid he appears to be ticketing one of his fellow officers

Now for the entirety of my train ride I must sit in anticipation of when the fare check will occur. Sometimes once a day, sometimes twice, SOMETIMES NOT AT ALL. Now the only peace I get during the day is when I fall asleep in the shower, which always ends with me getting water up my nose. To get to the real point, I want to know what happened to good cops like this!

Ponch and John

That's right! It's everyone's favorite California Highway Patrolman! They were such a good team. As soon as John was distracted with actually helping people, Ponch was hooking up with all the fine Cali ladies! What a guy! Not to mention that Eric Estrada's hair was definitely real at the time.

John Cusack: A Tribute

Last night my lovely girlfriend and I wacthed the 80's romantic comedy "Say Anything." While the movie itself left me in a daze as to what I had just done with the last two hours of my life, it showcased one of the most under-appreciated comdeic actors of all time: John Cusack


Here Is Mr. Cusack, looking rather drunk, I might add.

ANYWAYS the plot revolved around some girl he liked and her dad went to jail and it was defiantely the dad from Fraiser. The End. The point is, John Cusack has single handedly created a new role in the Romantic Comedy genre. In most formulaic r/c films, theres a straight man and a funny man. The movie usually revolves around one of the two, or both, seeking the hand of a lovely lady. During the movie they either compete for the girl or function as a friend/guy trying to get the girl team to bring the movie to its climax. Then either the protaganist lies about something or external forces screw up everything. Then people makeout. HOWEVER, in a John Cusack film we see his unique ability to act as BOTH funny guy and straight man all wrapped up into one crazy individual. This, in an economical sense, makes Cusack a genius, because he now opens the doors to get paid for both roles! I don't know if that ever happens, but it most certainly could. Beyond that, he can still create the same sense of conflict between to people WITH HIMSELF (i.e., Grosse Pointe Blank). Wow. Not to mention, most of the chicks in his movies are pretty good looking. Kate Beckensdale. No further comment necessary. That being said, I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Really. John Cusack is the man.

John Cusack getting his award for being the man...a life size trophy the looks like Diane Lane....Hmm