Welcome to my little corner of the world, this is where I rant, rave, kvetch or wax on nostalgic about anything and anyone that crosses my path at that moment in time.
Sit down for a bit and read some. If you enjoy what you read, please pass the love on to others so that they may partake in the yummy goodness that lies here.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


A friend posted on facebook earlier this week that after watching Glee, they were now wanting to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show; which got me wanting to watch it as well. Now I've seen RHPS back around my time in high school; either while I was still there or shortly after graduating. When I saw it, me and some friends had rented it from either Blockbuster or Movie Gallery for the evening.

What do you do now if you want to watch a movie that is older than a new release that you just have to watch it now? You can no longer run to the local Blockbuster or Movie Gallery as they have all gone the way of the Dodo. RedBox only carries new releases, as well as the Blockbuster version; Netflix, you'll have to either wait for them to ship it to you or hope and pray that you can stream it live onto your Xbox, Wii, PS3 or computer but only if that movie is available through that venue. You could run to the nearest Wal-mart or any other place that sells movies and hope that they may actually have it for purchase.

There just doesn't seem to be any movie rental stores around anymore that you can rent an older movie for a couple of bucks for a couple of days.

How many times did you and some friends go to the local store to rent a movie, but had no idea at the time what it was that you were looking for? You just based your decision on either the cover art of the box, actors or the synopsis on the back; especially if the movie was one that wasn't all that popular or was a straight to DVD release.

Not to mention the animated films that you could watch without buying or sports related videos that you would never bother buying in the first place?

Tuesday, October 26, 2010


I'm at the gym last night on the medieval torture device aka an elliptical machine, doing an obscene amount of cardio as well as sweating in an obscene amount and on the tele I have the History channel playing. Almost always when I am at the gym, I watch the History channel while listening to my phone; I don't have an ipod or any other music device but my Droid works perfectly fine. Obviously if I am listening to music, I can't be listening to the tele, so I read it through the closed captioning but that is actually getting off the subject I want to go to.

It seems to me that the History channel has become nothing more than one giant reality tv channel. You have American Pickers, Pawn Stars, IRT (Ice Road Truckers), Swamp People, Ax Men, Chasing Mummies, Extreme Marksmen, UFO Hunters, Top Shot and Stan Lee's Superhumans. The only one of those shoes that would have some history to it, would be Chasing Mummies. All the others may have a little bit about history in them but for the most part they are just reality tv shows.

I know Americans aren't interested in history all that much these days and all we want is that instant gratification, either in a cheap laugh or a cheap bit of shock or scare but you'd think a channel such as the History channel would not be airing shows that don't have some sort value beyond that.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Working Out

I've been going to the gym for some time now, about two years so far and I have yet to reach my goal of losing this gut.

Now, grant it, I am not the most faithful in going everyday like I want to; especially considering of having to switch gyms early this year to one that is a bit further out to drive. Plus I don't diet, so that is a negative on me. My reasoning for not dieting is that I just need to become more active as when I started this health kick five years ago, I weighed 250 lbs. I lost quite a bit just by knocking soda out of my diet and drinking mostly water. That alone along with riding a bike throughout the summer afternoons when I got off of work from my previous job helped me get down to 226-230 lbs.

When I moved out, I managed to get down to 216 at one point by working out on a weight machine and not eating as much. I gained a bit more back once I had to move again and starting eating more and working out less.

Now once I moved home, bad economy helped on that bit, I stopped working out all together and was going out to eat with a friend almost everyday and having soda with said meal. Now, let me tell you this, pizza and soda does not make a proper weight loss plan. No matter what anybody is trying to tell you. They are either trying to sell you pizza or comfort, both would be a safe bet.

So now we are here, in the present and I've been going more regularly but still not losing anything. I'm really not concerned with the weight, just this fat belly but I think the real problem is diet and the fact that I'm not really watching what I eat, just kinda how much I eat.

I am going to do this thing. Going to get down to wearing 36s in a loose fashion and perhaps even go smaller.

Sunday, October 10, 2010


"For me to be attracted to you, you have to be broken in some way." Bill said to Irene.

"Wh-What does that mean? You're saying that for you to be attracted to someone, that they must be flawed or as you put it, broken in some way?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"That makes no sense. How can you base your idea of attraction towards someone based on their mental well being? Or does this 'broken' also include physical maladies?" Irene was taken aback by Bill's quite forward and sudden revelation; considering that they have been dating for the past two months and she was starting to feel that Bill could be the 'one'.

"Physically, you must meet certain criteria for me to even consider dating you; which you obviously do, but for us to stay together, you need to be mentally unstable so as I can fix you."

"Fix ME!?"

"Yes. Fix you."

"Ok. Ok. Wait." Irene stops to take a breath and compose herself before continuing, "Let me get this straight, for you to be attracted to someone, or to continue to be able to date me, they or I, need to be mentally unstable or broken, as you so eloquently put it, so that you can fix them or me, correct?"

"Correct." Bill said in his standard cool detached voice. The one that is generally void of any emotion.

"Alright, I'll play. So, what constitutes one being 'broken'?"

"Daddy issues; having been ruined by past relationships; having some sort of addiction, either by chemical means or through weak will power; been physically or mentally abused."

"Basically you want to date a stripper."

"Absolutely not. They're filthy. Not too mention the fact that many are whores. Have too many tattoos. As well as many have drug addictions and or babies."

"So babies are an absolute no? I clearly remember you saying that you wanted to have kids someday or was that a lie?"

"Not a lie. I just don't want to have to correct someone else's mistakes. I'd prefer to start with a clean slate as it were."

"Hmm. As it were." Irene repeated in a semi mocking tone. "So since I have a Daddy that was around and was a positive influence in my life; my past relationships ended on good terms and in fact I'm still friends with many of them; I am not addicted to nor have been addicted to drugs or alcohol; and since I have not been abused either mentally or physically by anybody, especially my Dadddy or ex-boyfriends, I am undateable. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"I do try." Bill replied believing that was some sort of compliment Irene had bestowed upon him.

"You're a fucking bastard. You know that? You really are. I am glad that you reveal this to me now, before I get all caught up emotionally and you caused me to become 'broken' as you put it. Of all my ex's, you will be the one that I will hope to not run into ever again for as long as I live, as you are probably more fucked up then the girls you seek to 'fix'. In fact, I bet if you do meet the 'one' for you, that you will fall deeply in love and when you think she is yours, she leaves your fucking ass. Cause no woman that is messed up like you like, will be attracted to a guy like you. They will use you up and spit you out time and time again. While the entire time you keep thinking to yourself that they will come back to you since you've done so much for them. When in fact, they have just used your time, money and soul to wait till what they think they want comes around and they leave your sorry ass. Just as you thought you were doing to me, but I am not hurt about this, but saddened that you do not realize what you are losing...forever."

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Heads Up, 7 Up

Heads Up, 7 Up was a game that I remember playing in elementary school during the days of my youth while in class. This is not some game that I came up with to pass time but a game that the teacher would actually allow us to play in class.

The game went like this: seven students were picked to start, the rest of the class would then put their heads down with a thumb up, the 7 would walk around with each one putting one thumb down. When they were finished, the teacher would say, 'heads up, 7 up'. Which was when the seven that had their thumbs put down would stand up. At this time, those seven would get to try and pick whomever it was that put their thumb down; they only got one guess as to whom it was as it then would go to the next person. If you guessed right, you became a thumb downer; guess wrong, you sit down.

I almost never got chosen to start as one of the seven, but a few times I got my thumbed 'downed'. Which meant that I would get to stand to face the person that dared to put their dirty hands on me.

Which I could almost always do.

Not because of any kind of skill but because I cheated.

You can be shocked or whatever you like about that revelation but it was the way of the world at that time.

It was quite easy to do so. When you put your head down, you would cover your face, but peek off the side of the desk so as to see the floor. What this would accomplish is that if someone came to your desk to assault your thumb, you could hopefully catch a glimpse of their shoes or pants and be able to identify your assaillant. Which worked most of the time.

Now since I knew how to cheat to find out who touched me, I also knew how to avoid being spotted by other cheaters. Which was quite simple, when you would walk up to your target, instead of stopping at the side their head is at mostly, you go to the other side or you stop at the front and reach over or come at them from behind but return the way you came. May have taken longer for you to pick the person that you wanted, but to be one of the longest pickers was always a great feeling, it meant you were a much sneakier bastard than the other little shit heads.

Of course that cheating probably is the reason that anytime I cheat now, I lose.

Fucking karma.