A brief spike in traffic

For 3 days running I had over 100 views to the site, akin to a miracle.  I’m not that interesting, so it must’ve all been for recent Jeopardy! contestant Rachel Lindgren.

It’s my duty to warn you thirsty nerds AGAIN that smart women are not a solution to anything and being a sapiosexual is a road to nowhere.  If she’s smart while you’re enamored (subtract 25 IQ points for each boob and asscheek) you’re in QUADRUPLE the danger of being manipulated.  Not that I overly give a shit what happens to you, you’re probably better off than me.

I believe this blog is now 10 or 11 years old, which means little because I rarely posted after 2009, was it?  It has brought me neither joy nor grief, certainly no money or gavina.  I don’t read my own shit so I’ve forgotten most of it, except to remember impassioned movie reviews about Batman (pointless) or politics (far more pointless) and cussing out my wage slave job while doing nothing to improve my lot in life.

Two things happened in the last 5 years which changed the entire arc of my  inclinations, I got out of the shit job and I “discovered” whores.  Also, my father died  at 73 of natural causes, if you count lung cancer as natural.

The whores saved my life.  Once I was getting laid fairly regularly all the Mysteries of Womanhood evaporated, which was bittersweet, but poetry is either written out of your system or it burns you from the inside out like drinking bleach.  Poetry IS drinking bleach, usually for the reader. 

The women’s humanity made me less of a misogynist, and it even seemed a few of them enjoyed the ride beyond getting paid.  (I haven’t been laid in over a year due to health problems so that’s on pause.)

I’m closer to 50 than 40 now.  I’m not better than I was in 2006, but like to think I’ve learned much the last 10 or 11 years.  I wouldn’t trade my scant “life’s work” of writing for falling in love.   

Here are the final lines from a long ago poem.

I know it’s coming, death or a balloon.

The slitted eyes of a petted cat.

Star Wars Crapisode VIII

Well my nigs, if The Phantom Menace was a disastrous date with a beautiful stranger then The Force Awakens was date rape. After seeing the latter I was extra-pissed at having to buy the ticket in advance, in a theater with assigned seating. Never again.

If you’ve seen the trailer for The Last Jedi you already know it’s going to be a bad clone of The Empire Strikes Back. What gave it away? The snow fox, a still frame of a line of parked AT-ATs, and knowing Disney won’t take risks.

I don’t care about any of the characters, new or old. Rey is a poor replacement for Luke. Whether she turns evil or not makes no difference.

Hamill has said he entirely disagrees with the direction they took Luke. My guess is he won’t even leave Irish Island or wherever the fuck he’s hiding until Crapisode 9.

If Finn had been White, you would wonder what his character is even doing there. Same for the new X-wing pilot, who has scenes outside the cockpit yet is less memorable than Wedge or even Porkins.

The trailer also implies that Leia just stands in place on the bridge of a ship while her jug-eared, tantrum-throwing Vader-wannabe son locks missiles on her. TFA did nothing with her character, now she’s CG and it makes no difference.

Anyway, that’s that.

 

 

Kylo Ren, don’t make me feel gay

 

I don’t like feeling gay.

Gay in this sense has nothing to do with homosexuality, it’s a kind of shame or embarrassment by association with an object or idea ruined by obviousness, obnoxiousness or nescience.

The word “ghey” has been offered as a way to describe this feeling but it’s bullshit for two reasons:

1) ‘Gay’ had several other meanings before homosexual, and gays from that time forward didn’t offer an alternate spelling to separate themselves from the original meaning.

2) The well-intentioned but foolish adopter of “ghey” is left having to spell G-H-E-Y after saying, “gay” so as not to offend nearby gays. Who needs extra work?

Saw this today at the supermarket and yes, it made me feel gay:

I understand putting other SW characters on the boxes, including the fucking soccer ball that doesn’t need to eat. But how can Kylo Ren, wimpy-named villain and Vader groupie give a fuck about nutrition or pleasing kids, especially with a product name as GAY as GO-GURT?

More laughable is the new SW movie is rated PG-13, which means there’s a possibility of KR decapitating some poor fool with a lightsaber. This could be the Madonna/Pepsi controversy of this decade, especially since the new lightsaber looks like a burning cross.

 

 

 

 

And then there’s this:  

 

SLURP SABER.  

Slurp Saber…is funny.  

 

VITAL UPDATE:  The Force Awakens has been out for a few weeks.  By featuring Kylo Ren, Go-Gurt is advocating patricide.  Seems about right. 

 

Goofus and Gallant: Wholesome Lessons for Youth, Part Aṭh

Goofus and Gallant: Wholesome Lessons for Youth, Part Sextam

Robot with Red Arm, A One-Act Play

A.A. Jabrams, director of the new Space Wars, sits with his creative team made up of three toy sellers.

Jabrams: So what the hell do we do with 3-CPO? Lorge Gucas made him “naked” in The Spectral Harasser, he was black and soot-coated in Advance of the Duplicates and finally shiny in Avengement of the Dark Robes. What’s left?

Toy 1: Well, let’s see, he’s introduced in Space Wars, Episode 4, taken apart for scrap in Payback of the Authority and treated as a “funny god” in Revisit of the Sword-Knights.

Toy 2: A.A., your new Space Wars:  The Potential Wakes Up has the same sand planet just with a different name. 3-CPO is WORTHLESS on desert planets, the sand is coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere in his circuits; he’s shiny like a signal mirror, the evil Authority can see him from space!–and his translation skills are next-to-worthless. Hell, if San Holo can understand the Warkees without a droid translator, and Suke Lywalker knows what 2D-2R is beeping, what good is P-3-OH anyway?

Jabrams: The fucking soccer ball has made a MINT aleady! Fans snatched his ass up; didn’t even wait to see if he’s an annoying, scene-ruining asshole like Bar Bar Jinks. FIFA-1 was a stroke of my genius!

Toy 1:  But boss…that still leaves the problem of 3-CPO.

Toy 3: Well…we could…make one of his arms red?

Jabrams: … That’s bucking frilliant!

Toy 1: But how do we explain the arm?

Toy 2: Who gives a shit? We’ll pay some monkey with a laptop to make something up.

Jabrams: Fuckin’ NERDS are going to LOVE this!

Toy 3: AND buy it. Even if they paint their old reaction figure’s arm red, they wouldn’t get the cool new packaging!

Jabrams: I love the movies! HAIL SATAN!

Toy people: (in unison) HAIL SATAN!

Prediction-y Guesses for Star Wars 7

I don’t like the subtitle.  “THE FORCE AWAKENS” promises some stupid shit/tampering with the Force concept, just like midichlorians.

Yoda, Darth Vader, Emperor, Boba Fett will all be in it: oh, c’mon, these guys ARE Star Wars. They’ll be back in dreams / flashbacks / computer holofiles and they sure as hell will be back as TOYS.  (Yaay!)

Slow-motion lightsaber shit: rehashing of specific and popular violent special effects of the last 10 years, particularly the slowed-to-a-crawl-then-sped-up attacks from 300.  I also expect the ‘lightwhip’ to show up. If you don’t know what that is, congrats on having a life.

Droid’s Eye View: we get to see how R2 and 3PO see the world.  Do info and numbers run across their viewports like the Terminator’s?  Who can know?  Or care?  Besides me?

Android: Droids that look exactly like humans (at least one).

Jedi Wookie: there is one in the novels (though the novels are being ignored) and it would be cool; (don’t kill Chewie, either.)

Planet(s) will die: the director destroyed two planets already in Star Trek.  All bets are off.

Superweapon Mania: if it’s not Death Star 3.0 it will be very close to it, or multiple smaller Death Stars.

THE ARTIFACT:  Hitchcock called it the McGuffin, either way it’s an object to build a movie around.

Endless chase scene:  a battle to end all battles that starts in space, goes to atmosphere/sky, then ocean/swamps on speeder bikes, then….

Tatooine: it’s expected.

Dagobah: someone else has to visit THE CAVE to foresee the plot of Star Wars 8

Hoth: maybe.

Endor: no.

The Jedi Academy:  very likely.

References to anything prequel-related: present but hopefully extremely limited

A subtle insult to George Lucas for “ruining” Star Wars with the prequels and endless tampering with Eps. 4-6: we can only hope.

Darth Maul:  probably not the actual Darth Maul, but a Zabrak, the alien race Darth Maul was/is.

Jabba the Hutt/Hutts:  probably not the actual Jabba, but a Hutt, the alien race Jabba was/is.

Losing more limbs: heroes will be losing limbs and getting robot limbs.

Offspring of Luke or Han/Leia turning to Dark Side: likely, if there is no Sith element, this, will be…this…will be…

Sith: 80% likely to appear, 100% via “holocron.”

Death of Jar Jar Binks: this is more of an intensely strong suggestion than prediction. Having Jar Jar die a horrible, fiery (but “heroic”) death would add an additional half-billion to what will likely be the first movie to top 2 billion dollars.

Politics: I pray the story stays just that: a story from, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….”  

Fans/nerds will be reading shit into it and seeing things that aren’t there no matter what, so PLEASE no “hard-hitting” fucktarded messages about saving the environment, bullshit global warming, the evils of greed (Hi Disney), etc.

PRE-PLANNED FAN RAGE:  the creators will deliberately fuck up something sacred to enrage fans and then leak it early, which will in turn provide millions in free advertising.

 

Jimmy Smits is a OUTLAW. Why?

I hit a new low watching the pilot of some POS NBC show called “Outlaw”.

The “writers” of this turd start off by having badboy Supreme Court Justice ??????????????????????????  Jimmy Smits get publicly lambasted by a hot putana from the ACLU.  The next scene the bitch is curled up on his couch after a no-doubt hard Smits hump.  Some hack  must’ve just rewatched the original Iron Man and thought, Shit, I’ve got no talent, I’ll just rip-off that Tony Stark fucks sassy reporter scene.

Jiminy Smits, as the most Conservative Supreme Court judge is “evil” while his late liberal activist father (photoshopped with RFK and Cesar Chavez) is, of course, “good”.  According to the Dad via flashbacks, here’s the reason why his son is a principled Conservative:  “He’s wrong.”  That’s it.  That’s the whole argument.  So Smits, shooting hoops alone and weeping during flashbacks, decides to resign from the Supreme Court—a lifetime job with large pay and fame—to become a shitheels moral-crusadey lawyer.  In terms of ambition that’s equivalent to Hugh Hefner leaving his Playbore empire to become a telemarketer.

I must be a masochist, breaking my long blog silence during which I’ve done other things to write this much about this awful excuse for a show.

Bail Organa Smits isn’t alone in (t)his stupidity.  His law team includes a dumb blonde liberal (talk about redundancy) in love with him, a tight-collared Conservative stereotyped kid, a Negro lawyer of indeterminate origin and a bisexual smartass cunt private eye.  Oh and a sexy GILF who runs the law firm Smits joins.  Of course the GILF claims she won’t fuck him, just so it’ll be SHOCKING three episodes from now when she does.

The first episode centers around a Hollywood Propagandized Negro in prison.  Unlike real prison Negroes, the HPN is an UNfairly sentenced-to-death gentleman who speaks the King’s English and wants only to marry his equally eloquent baby-mama.  He is an INNOCENT VICTIM of RACISM (though they don’t call it that) and at the end an old, decorated White cop is found Guilty instead.  Yaaay!

This ridiculous show is DOA and I’m glad. In the real world, a kenyan muslim occupies the White House and not one, but TWO unqualifed racist communist dumbfuck bitches are on the Supreme Court.  FUCK.  YOU.

Smallville review, Season 8, Episode 2 – “Plastique”

Assuming this is the last season of Smallville, I’ve decided to write mini-reviews for all 22 episodes. They won’t be written in order but later on it won’t matter; we’ll all be dead in 2012 when the asteroid strikes earth.

“Plastique”

Cheap-ass follow-up to the season 8 premiere. An off-camera bus explosion outside the Daily Planet introduces paramedic Davis Bloom, who is really Sam Witwer, the Sith Apprentice from Force Unleashed. Chloe befriends “Bette”, a sassy “15-yr-old” street urchin with Asian eyes who was on the bus (if there’s anything I hate more than women I’m not having sex with, it’s girl-women I’m not having sex with and can go to prison for having sex with). Bette shacks up with Chloe, then, Clark in tow, goes to look for “Tommy”, a suspect who was also on the bus.

Upon seeing Bette, athletic teen Tommy runs away, only to be thwarted by a chain link fence barely taller than him. Bette secretly uses some kind of heat vision and ignites one of a few FLAMMABLE oil drums conveniently stacked nearby. Clark, who can “hear a dog bark 10 miles away” and see bullets moving in slow motion, doesn’t notice what really happened. It’s probably better Tommy got roasted, otherwise his ghost would be pissed off Superman was 20 feet away yet couldn’t save him.

Back at the Planet, Lois announces her plan to get ahold of Tommy’s autopsy report and Clark lopes along after her to remind her how wrong it is to steal and that she’ll go to prison “for years”. (I hate when Clark is dumbed down, which means I’ll be hating a lot of casual moments this season).

Chloe and Davis Sith share a Moment screwing…in a light bulb at the” Isis Foundation”. Could Davis be some sort of new love interest for Chloe? Since Jimmy Olsen proposed at the end of Season 7, the timing is somewhat bad. OR IS IT? At “Metropolis General Hospital”, Lois shows off her arsensal of stolen electronic passcards to a worried Clark, who then runs into the Sith Paramedic.

“Chloe is engaged and I thought you were the engager, Clark!” “No, Bloom, I didn’t know she was engaged.” “Oops. Then don’t tell anyone, gotta go!”

According to the “medical” report, Tommy had a long rap sheet (!!!) but the barrel shrapnel from the explosion went toward him, not away! OMFG! Tommy was innocent and Chloe, Lois informs us with a “joke” 10-years too late, is babysitting “Psycho Spice”!

Meanwhile, Chloe and the Firestarter/Jailbait discuss “Black Creek”, the Lex-made prison-lab for people with powers where Chloe was captured last week but Bette was kept in for 3 years. (It should be noted here, for no reason at all, that while hot, Bette has a very annoying, shaky voice, which she uses to announce she’s going to silence Chloe with death).

Chloe runs and Clark arrives just in time to deflect Bette’s fire-eye-balls, thus completing this episode’s single minute total of special effects. After the commercial break, some flashing red/blue cop lights on the outside wall of Chloe’s loft explain that Bette has now been taken away to “Belle Reve”. This makes no sense since less than 5 mintues ago Bette was freaking out about The Authorities chasing and capturing her and has proven her willingness to kill people who help her, much les random strangers.

Tess “Cat Eyes” Mercer meets up with Bette in a green-glowing cage and invites her to join a team of others with powers, so either we’ll see Bette again later this season or we won’t.

Chloe calls Davis Unleashed but he can’t come to the phone, since he’s naked and curled into a ball in an alley! What the hell’s going on here?

And that’s that.