knight rider

sometimes you turn 21 at some bar downtown and some drunken girl you meet in a drunken haze finally smiles the 8th time you tell her it's your birthday, and she buys you another beer, shares it with you, ends up drinking more of it than you. You end up sleeping on her living room floor without blankets or pillows, too drunk to stay awake after making out for 20 minutes or so, hands wandering, eyes rolling back, one shoe on, one shoe hanging from her doorknob, and half filled bottles of booze corked or capped resting just as splayed and out-of-place as you, drool running down neck down pooling on her favorite My Bloody Valentine CD.

and that's the start, and it's one of those relationships that are fun, wild, unpredictable, and you see each other everyday even though you tell your friends that you know it's stupid, and she does things that piss you off, and really you're 21 now, you should be trying to find the one, there's no way she's the one, but when you're lying with her watching Twin Peaks at 4am on bottle 3 of some cheap merlot you don't think you could ever love anyone more.

And when the relationship ends, you know it's right to end, and you feel sad, you remember some of the old times, but the more time that passes the more you know it's right to be over. And when you end up getting back together 5 years later on some long mistake of a night out and about, it's even worse than before, and it's missing a lot of the things you found charming the first time around, and when you get back together again another while later, it's even worse than you could have imagined, and you both sort of fake smiles and make excuses to go separate ways, and maybe you go home and look at a picture of you and her from that first night, 21 and drunk, and you smile one last happy thought about her, then tear the picture in half and let it rest at the bottom of the kitchen trash.

Anyway, this post is about knight rider. and this is the 4th time. Time to tear that picture in half, hollywood.

Riddle Times 1

As I was going to remove my chives
I met a man with seven knives
His seven knives he held with seven gloves
His seven gloves he wore them snug

chives, knives and gloves how many were going to St. Ives?

1up-Me2

1up-Me2, yeah you know the guy. The guy who comes around at work, school and parties and jumps in on the conversation and says things like "Me too!" or "I've done that." How does he know what we're talking about? How does he know? ...because he's 1up-Me2! The guy who claims he has just one more then you. The guy who knows it all. Take for example; you get to work, your buddy comes over and explains about his new PC he just ordered is so awesome. Your Buddy tells you he just ordered the new Dell XPS with 8 gigabytes with dual process... when all of a sudden from out of no where, "I just got the new 12 gigabytes Dell double X-PS, with triple processors."



He did it again, 1uped you, you pathetic median grade owner of all products not worthy by his standards. Majority of the time you'd love to strangle him or even call him out on it, "Oh yeah, TOM! Where's this Double X-PS with triple processors? Where is it TOM! just as I thought"...but you don't because you are embarrassed for him. That's right, in the long run you know and everyone else knows that this guy is just embarrassing the shit out of himself. With his wild tales of how he spent 1 more week then you in Hawaii, or the time he broke both his legs to your one, or when he scaled K2 twice, once without a canteen because he forgot his canteen back at base camp, or the time he got in a sword fight with Antonio Banderas on the set of Shrek 2, or when he claims to be an ancestor of Pontius Pilate.



Yeah, that 1up-Me2 guy is a character for sure and in a way we need him. He helps bring the colleagues, classmates and friends together for a good ole "wtf moment". If you have read this and don't get it, maybe that's because you made a novel of this or perhaps you wrote this yesterday before I did, or maybe even you read it before I hit the submit button. Clever you are 1up-Me2.

Television at its greatest?

I can't decide on whether I like "The New Adventures of Old Christine" or "The Bill Engvall Show" better. Let's break it down...

New Adventures:
-A divorced 50something woman sadly stumbles through life
-Wanda Sykes as a hilarious best friend
-Julia Louis-Dreyfus somehow making us forget about her role on a different television show (that good?) (yes)
-An effeminate 7 year-old son you won't forget
-An ex-husband who adds laughter as well as brings out the baggage of the 50something star
-A younger brother that lives with our star and her 7 year-old effeminate son
-Writers That you might have thought were always on strike (sorry WGA, that joke's mine)
-The previously mentioned "younger brother" is something like 17 years her junior
-The previously mentioned "ex-husband" is about 10 years her junior
-Laugh track
-Blue States (?)

Engvall:
-Bill Engvall in a groundbreaking family sitcom role
-He plays a therapist
-He may have gotten noticed on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, but he's left those guys in the dust
-I'm assuming Larry the Cable Guy and Jeff Foxworthy do occaisionally guest on the show
-Nancy Travis resurrects her career as "the wife"
-Some kids play their children (I think there's 3 of them)
-Only the Superstation TBS has the smarts to put this on prime time
-Fills the void left when Tim Allen left US high and dry by getting his show canceled
-Red States

That probably sums both shows up very well.
Now that I've made it easy,
Why don't you cast your vote, America?

Hitler

The problem with Hitler freezing himself to be thawed out in the future is that he didn't establish any damage control. People fucking hate Hitler. If he set up the machine to thaw 65 years forward, 2010, he'd pop out, then he'd be murdered by anybody who realized what was going on. I'd like to see a comedy about a frozen hitler in the basement of some german museum that gets mistakenly transferred to malibu, CA, and ends up thawed out in the california sun and makes friends with a group of surfers who think he's just some square old surfer dude. He smokes weed, listens to the beach boys, talks about lost love around the campfire at night. Then eventually they figure out who he is, and they have to decide whether to turn him in or keep him as a tubular new friend. In the end, US authorities start to take him away, but then one surfer stands up and says something like, "he is my friend." Then another stands up and says the same thing. Then another. Before long, all of them say it. Close up shot of one of the government authorities in black sunglasses, one tear running down his left cheek. he lets go and Hitler runs back to his friends and they all have a group hug while "California Dreamin" plays in the background. And there will be a scene at some point in the movie where some neo-nazi dude comes to see hitler and say how much he admires him, and this is the scene where the writers are trying to get the audience to like hitler, he says something like "no way, man, we were wrong, what we did was wrong. You go home and you change. Choose love, not hate. I mean, look at yourself. You haven't talked to your black daughter in years." and the neo-nazi cries, and he changes, and hitler surfs and smokes some pot. It could be called something like "What I did Over Mein Summer Vacation."


But in reality (uhhhh... based on the "reality" of somebody successfully unfreezing themselves and going on to live), he's probably unfreeze, be disoriented, try to figure out what was going on, probably bolt around like some mad-eyed schizophrenic, sleep on the streets like a bum, murder some bums, and at some point somebody's gonna discover the cryogenic machine, scientist's will discover that it was hitler, front page shits across everything, track down hitler, hold him to trial or something, somebody would probably murder him like they done Lee Harvey Oswalt.

Anyway, just a thought.

Jam Bands

I might be wrong, but I think jam bands need to stop making music and start doing other things, like ceasing to exist. And people who see jam bands perform need to stop telling me about how great it was, and start doing other things, like ceasing to exist, or showering the thick scent of old marijuana off of their Phish t-shirts. And bumper stickers on paint-faded volvos need to stop telling how great Dave Matthews Band and Dancing Grateful Dead Bears are, and start doing other things, like ceasing to exist, or encouraging the grateful dead to actually be grateful that they're dead, the way the rest of us are.


This is a public service announcement.