and the rest of you USA athletes?

You're no prizes either!
Ooohh, the big bad Bode Miller, he of the, um, well, failure in pretty much everything he was supposed to do?
You had 97 magazine covers going in, and choked on everything?
Loser.
Apolo Anton Ohno?
Oooh, a BRONZE medal.
Christ, YOKO Ono could have done better than that.
Speed skating? Shani Miller and Chad Hedrick, seeing which one can be the bigger prima donna?
Oooh classy.
At least the snowboarders came through for us.
Thank God for punk kids who listen to the Offspring, eh?
So far USA:
18 medals, and 216 athletes
Austria, 19 medals, 101 athletes
Norway, 18 medals, 84 athletes
Jeez, we're sad looking out there.
Well, we'll hang our hats on little Sasha Cohen, and if she comes through, she'll get a Wheaties box.
Right before she cashes in for every penny she can get out of it, and throws the medal underneath the bed, never to be seen again as she gets ready for her starring role on a shitty FOX reality show.
God, I miss Bonnie Blair.

USA! USA! USA! Uh....no, not this year

Well, golly gee whiz Wally, the USA choked out in hockey over in Turin.
I'd like to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. (Canada stunk up the joint too, so they get no slack in this rant, sorry, my Canuck brethren) We sent a bunch of old guys over to play on the biggest stage in the world. This was it, the almighty OLYMPICS, and we sent old bums, washed up hacks, and nobody of any RECENT accomplishments.
I heard lots about how it was so and so's last chance to win a gold medal.
Pardon me, I'm going to be blunt here.

Ready?
WHO THE FUCK CARES????
We sent Chris Chelios, who is approaching his 67th birthday, Mike (The Crybaby) Modano, who hasn't been a significant player since about '99, Robert (The Sieve) Esche, Bret (I'm still here 'cause I married Kristy Yamaguchi) Hedican & Derian (The Benchwarmer) Hatcher, all washed up, none of them major contributors in the NHL, and THEY got to wear the Red White & Blue and fold like a cheap suit?
What a fucking disgrace.
I know every one of these old farts wants to hang on to some glory, and get to wear that medal proudly, but they never could, and they never will, because they lack something that Eruzione, Broten, Craig, Suter, and the rest of those proud boys from Lake Placid had.
Class.
Determination.
Teamwork.
Herb Brooks was honest when he said he needed guys that were too dumb to know they couldn't win. They just went out onto the ice and played their hearts out, gave 110% on every shift, and beat the entire world.
They stayed together, they ate together, they had each other, and no one else. They were the nobodies, the kids, and they never had a chance, but when it came time to gutcheck it, they delivered in spades. And not just to Team USA fans, they delivered the game to a new level, whoa, hockey was on TV again, it was cool, and when these kids took to the ice in the NHL, people came out to watch.
The clowns we sent were already IN the NHL.
They were supposed to be better than those college kids could ever be.
But they have too much to deal with, Modano bitched about having to deal with hotel accommodations. I'm sorry, Mike, but if you had stayed in the Village (you know, like the common people do), instead of needing to have 4 star room service and a broadband connection so you can check your stock portfolio, you might have spent a little, oh, I dunno, TIME with your teammates? Maybe skated together more than ONCE before going out to play? Maybe worked on the ol' teamwork? Gotten your shit together perhaps?
Like the college boys that weren't supposed to be good enough to win did?
Maybe you might have even thought of the TEAM first, instead of your personal inconvenience.
Maybe if you and Chelios and the other bums had said "Hey, we stink these days, if we REALLY want to see the USA wearing gold, maybe we should put the best team together we can, instead of old guys like us?"
But they didn't. It was me first.


Guys, PLEASE take those jerseys off.
You're not fit to wear them.
Now those boys back in 1980, the ones who endured long bus rides,
cramped quarters and early morning practices,
they DESERVED to be Team USA.
They'll always be there in our memories,
young and eager, shining faces charging hard,
giving everything they had for the Red White & Blue.
You're not fit to carry their gear.

Craptacular Classic of the Week!

Oh, sure, lots of people go and review films.
They get all high falutin' and act like they're soooo sophisticated 'cause they're reviewing something with plot, quality dialogue, skilled actors and moderately accomplished production values.
What about the films that happen to be, er, lacking in those areas?
Don't they deserve a chance?
Won't someone review them?
Thank God for me, eh?
When there is a film so crappy, that no one of any reputable writing skills will take it on, heck, I see my niche right there!
Let me begin this new weekly feature with a wonderfully shitty flick called...
are you ready for this one?


Hard Rock Zombies
No, I'm not kidding.

This meandering pile of celluloid excrement was made in 1985.
My guess is that standards were pretty low back then.
Our Plot:
A hot looking 80's babe with poofed up hair, and dressed in slutty attire is hitching, and some horny young men pick her up, looking for fun. Bad move. She entices them to skinny dip with her, and DUH DUH DUH! KILLS them!
Hey, waitaminute, who is the guy in the suit taking pictures of the whole thing while a pair of midgets cavort around him?
We move to a bar, where a group of talentless cretins are doing a very bad job of lip synching to a horribly bad attempt to meld Journey with Loverboy. (Yes, the music is THAT bad)
The drummer can't even be bothered to pretend to play. He just stands there and hits the drums every once in awhile, and never in time with the tune. The mulleted bass player is the singer.
They are playing this show because their manager has lined up a big time music biz type to see their next show in....Grand Guginol?
The singer, Jesse seems to be resistant to the manager's attempt to publicize the band. He storms out of photo session only to meet...THE GIRL. She acts coy, and tell him not to play in her town.
Why? So we can kill another 90 minutes?
That'll do.
They are on the road, and they....see a hot blonde hitchhiker! Oooh, let's pick her up! Less than a minute later, she tells them to pull off the road at her house, and the band can stay there.
Suspicious of a woman hitching less than a mile from home?
Not this bunch of wool-headed bufoons. They cavort in town. Townies don't like them. Apparently they have musical taste.
They're warned to leave. They don't.
We go back to the slutty blonde's house. Her grandma and grandpa are getting it on.
Ugh. Ewww.
The midgets are watching.
Double ewww.
Band gets busted. The Girl tries to bail them out.
Slutty Girl does though, and the band rehearses at her place. Grandma and Grandpa watch, as the midgets attempt to electrocute the band. Mullet Man saves the day, so the denizens of the house kill them in other ways.
Manager is having dinner after funeral. Grandma tells about how happy funerals can be.
Grandpa rages, and reveals......that he is Hitler.
I kid you not.
No, seriously, he's Hitler.
He has big plans.
But, way back in the van, our bass playing dipshit, discovered a set of notes, that when played bring the dead back to life!!!
The Girl has been given a cassette of the tune, she plays it, and our heroes come back to life to sort of save the day.
They even play several numbers after death. Sadly, the tune is not improved. The agent type wants to sign them up however.
He's among the braindead here.
They also....strut, for lack of a better word. Sort of a combination of the Robot, and race-walking. They look seriously retarded doing this, I kid you not. They kill Hitler and Co. The Townies are worried about the zombies. Carnage ensues. The bad guys come back to life, the good guys do, the townies do, and nobody has the slightest clue as to what the fuck is going on.
My guess is because the director didn't have a clue either.
When all is over The Girl and the manager have sorta hooked up, but she still has feelings for dead Jessie.

I looked this stinking pile up on IMDB. Apparently it was made to be part of another shitty flick, called American Drive In, and was only supposed to be what the people in that movie were watching onscreen. (Those poor bastards) The producers said, "Aw, what the hell, we've got $137.50 into it so far, let's drop another $43.26 on it and call it a movie!"

Now, when I grade flicks, I base them on value received=money spent.
Movies like this cannot use such a scale.
Craptacular flicks need a different scale.
Flushes 1-4, ie, how many flushes it takes to wipe the stench of this flick away.

They're STILL whining?

Man, these Seattle sports fans just don't get it, do they?
Do they really think that writing in to every sportswriter on the 'net is gonna help?
93 million nasty letters and e-mails?
Oh, I'm sure the NFL will happily replay the game with a different head ref just for you whiners.
Congrats Seattle!
You HAVE a title now!
The Biggest Bunch Of Snivellers Ever.
BBOSE!

Know WHY they're so upset?
Shaun Alexander won't be back.
He'll get much more money elsewhere.
He seemed to like the Carolina players and coaching
staff he hung out with at the ProBowl.
No Alexander?
Do the numbers 5-11 mean anything people?
That's a likely scenario without #37.
The Niners will get better, especially if they pick up LenDale White in the draft.
The Rams aren't planning on being doormats, either.
The Cardinals, they're not gonna...
well, OK, they'll continue to stink up the joint.
And since the realignment, the Seahawks will get to play the AFC West again this year.
Denver, possibly with TO on their side.
San Diego, Antonio Gates, LaDanian Tomlinson, Drew Brees.
The Raiders back with some good ol' fashioned nastiness and a legend leading the team back to glory.
The Chiefs, Tony Gonzalez, Priest Holmes, Larry Johnson.

Ball's in your court fellas, Alexander will cost you a BUNDLE.
And if you have dreams of going back to the SuperBowl, you better pay it.
Or it'll be 5-11, and none of this 12th man nonsense, there'll be 10 thousand empty seats as they slide into oblivion.
But keep on whining about the calls in a game that's over, pay no attention to reality.
And they wonder why they never win anything in this town.

I loooove a good scary book!

I'm a huge fan of good scary books.
Even since I was a little kid, I'd read the scariest stuff I could find.
Didn't matter if it gave me nightmares.
Didn't matter if I was up until 4 AM.
The scarier the better.
Now here's the trouble I have these days.
I tend to find an author, and stick with them.
Once I find someone, and like their work, I'll search out everything they've done.
Then I wait (im)patiently for their new work.
I get spooked about trying new authors.
Weirdly, it's not a money thing, I'm not worried about spending the money on a book that I don't know about.
I just HATE being disappointed by a second rate book.
So folks, I need your help!
Here's a list of some of my favorite authors and books.
If you have something you think I might like, post it!!
1)Bentley Little-He's the man, The Store, The Policy, The Resort, etc.
He builds a typical, All American tale, a nice family or people who seem to be just fine,
and then he turns it all around and drops them right into horror.
2)PN Elrod-Not quite horror, but her various vampires have all been good.
3)Phil Rickman-Bases his stuff on ancient myths, and builds some slowly creeping terror. Candlenight & December are especially good.
4)Stephen King-Not as good as he used to be, but has created some darn good tales of spookiness, Rose Red is still one of the best haunted house tales ever.
5)Simon Clark-Up and comer, The Tower is one good haunted house story, waiting to read more!
A guy who SHOULD be writing more horror-
Raymond Feist-Midkemia rocks, no two ways about it, but jeez, if you ever read his Faerie Tale, you'd know that this guy is a potential superstar in horror. Write some more, willya?

My OVERRATED LIST:
Anne Rice-maybe you have to be a chick, tried to start on her Chronicles, was bored out of my skull halfway through and gave up.
Richard Laymon-Ohhh, it's a scary place, and there's legends about it, and we get exposition up the ass, and...it's one crazy guy who kills people. 400 pages of buildup and supposed clues about what we're getting into, and let's get this book over with, and use the easiest plot ideas in the world to do it. Blech.

So if y'all have some ideas on authors to try, let me know!!! Give me the best possible book to start on, and I'll take it from there!

Cartoons of Muhammad?

OK, I'm gonna revisit my stance on this:
Do any of these nutcases have a sense of humour?
I understand, really, it's offensive to your faith, fine, but setting embassies on fire?
If you have a beef with the people who did the cartoons?
I can see that.
If you have a beef with the newspaper that published them?
I see that.
Trying to bomb the embassy that is staffed with people who had nothing whatsoever to do with either the cartoon or the publishing of it?
OK, you're officially on the train to crazy land.

To his credit, Pat Robertson has never burned down a building over an unflattering depiction of Jesus or God.
Nasty letters and the preaching of damnation, sure, burning buildings, no.
When the actions of hard core fundamentalists make HIM look rational and sane?
Yep, you're nuts.
(Pat, if you happen to be reading this, do not take this as a sign that God wants you to firebomb anyone, anywhere, OK?)


NOW, having said my little bit there, apparently ANY depiction of Muhammad is a sin in Islam.
I'm OK with that, I respect their faith.
Then again.....

What's so offensive about a depiction of Muhammad?

I don't think the Champ would mind, would he?
He certainly merchandised himself well enough over the years, didn't he?
Jeez, people, lighten up....
btw, follow the link to T-shirt Hell over on the sidebar there if you like the shirt, they've several others.....

Bloody tired of hatred and stupidity

It's no secret to anyone who knows me, I'm NOT happy with the way this country keeps shifting further to the right.
I don't like bigotry, intolerance and hatred.
Seems any event, place or what have you that the extreme right doesn't like here, they're picketing, calling names, threatening people with damnation, etc.
I had a protestor once tell me I was going to hell for feeding a baby killer.
I pointed out that
a.) I was required by my job to deliver the pizzas wherever they were ordered from,
b.) a woman's right to choose was protected by law, and
c.) I was reasonably certain that Dr. Emmet J. Hornsby, Opthamologist, hadn't killed any babies that I knew of, and I really didn't think I should assume he had unless I had some evidence.
Plus, he tipped pretty good.

Regardless of my rational train of thought, this nitwit informed me I was still going to burn in hell.
For delivering pizza to an eye doctor?
(if anyone knows WHERE in the Bible that's considered a certain trip to damnation, please inform me. I am curious about stuff like that.)
In other words, this idiot assumed anyone going near the same bulding where doctors performed abortions was equally deserving of his hate, agression, and who knows, a bullet in the head, as this was right around the time several abortion doctors had been shot.
If anything, it's gotten worse here.
We now have people on our Supreme Court who think like that.
Our pResident thinks like that.
A majority of Congress thinks like that.
I beleive I'll see more of this stupidity every day.
Spooky shit, no?
Maybe it's time to start planning for a new address to move the Castle to....perhaps further north?

More on that later, I'm still making fun of Seahawk fans right now.

Seattle not so super?

Well, duh.

Oh yes, the fans will scream bloody murder about bad calls, but ya know, every team has bad calls.
GET OVER IT.
If the Seahawks had won by 54 points would they be crying?
The Steelers got robbed against Indy, but they just gritted it out and didn't whine about it.
They also won the game.
Yeah, Holmgren snivelling and crying at the refs all game long.
Nothing makes them fonder of a coach than when he won't shut up.
Hasselbeck, choke, choke, choke....
Pressure's on, it's the 4th quarter, gotta manage the clock, um, what play am I running?
Huh?
Wha..?
Oh, I just killed two minutes of the clock by being a dumbass?
Jerremy Stevens opened his mouth before the game.
A lot.
He also apprently opened his hands.
Wide open.
He couldn't have caught a cold on Sunday.
Oooh, one big catch.
Several much bigger drops.
Now who looks dumb?
It isn't Joey Porter, that's for sure.

Now who showed the guts?
3rd and 28, broken play, Big Ben's running for his life, protection's broken down, and he scrambles, and STOPS ON A DIME so he doesn't cross the line of scrimmage, and fires a great pass for a first!
Winner, winner, winner.
Major stud.
A city mourns for a lost opportunity.
Then they need to makes themselves feel better.
"We were just happy to be here"
That's not the attitude that wins big games.
It's why they never have, and most likely never will. Note my entries:
Who predicted a Pittsburgh win?
Me.
Way back when the playoffs started.
I was off on the score though.
Damn.
Next year?
Raiders all the way!
Silver & Black forever!
Just win baby!!

For all of you who have wondered why Grace Park and Tricia Helfer get all the publicity...

I humbly submit the incredibly lovely Katee Sackhoff, known to geeks the world over as Lt. Kara (Starbuck) Thrace.

Damn she's hot.
Every bit as hot as the other two.
It's just the ROLE that isn't glamorous.
Watch the Sci-Fi behind the scenes episode.
Trust me.
Way hot.
Hopefully she'll warm up the frigid winter for ya Steve...

I'm tired of fake products on clothing

Ye gods, I'm at the mall (ugh), and I just love all the faux crap people are wearing.
"Bob's Stuffed Beavers-Since 1985"
Wow, If I was, I dunno, 9, I'd think that was cool.
"Woody's Builders-Erecting since 1972"
Oh, yeah, hilarious, if you're in 5th grade.
What is with people's need to have a fake brand plastered all over themselves?
Do they realize it makes them look like idiots?
(Say it with me, Ren style, "You EEDIOT!")
Or there's the geniuses with numbers and non-existent team names.
"Fossil 1954 Football Champs" Which league was that?
The League of Bufoons Who PAY Million Dollar Companies to Advertise for Them?
"Yeah, this shirt is sooo coool! I paid 38 dollars for it at Abercrombie & Fitch! I can't wait to go drive more business their way so I can pay even more next time!!"

I don't buy stuff like that.
I buy colors and style of clothing that I like, and what my friends are currently wearing has zero bearing on my decisions.
I tend to make up my own mind on these matters.
I'm weird that way.
I also loooove the new brands out there, to capitalize on American stupidity and the desire to be "cool".
Hollister.
Oooh, their shop in the mall looks so cool.
They have, like, pictures of surfers and stuff.
Dude. That's like, so rad.
They really go for the surf look, and the kids RUN to buy it.
Gotta have it. No matter what.
It's like California cool, and surfing, and whoa, it's just such a cool place.
Aha.
Some marketing genius (and I do not use that term lightly) really put one over on the brain dead youth of our nation.
Have you ever BEEN to Hollister, California?
I used to live not too far from it.
It's..oh, I dunno, about 65 miles from water.
It's a roasting hot and truly hellish inferno druing the summer as there's nary a breeze in sight.
In the 100's on a regular basis.
Lovely place to die of heatstroke.
And they've sold it to the kids as this cool, surfer, Santa Cruz-like place via some second rate, sweatshop made clothing.
And the kids can't wait to advertise it for them by paying outrageous prices.
Geniuses.
But people identify by what brand they wear.
I see kids that every single item of clothing they have is by Nike or Reebok, or whatever.
Slaves to fashion, and supporters of slavery in other countries where the crap is made.
I can see an item or two here with a logo on it.
Hey, I had an IZOD shirt in high school.
But every single stitch of clothing by one company?
Actually, I did have stuff like that.
Usually from JC Penney's.
I didn't brag about it though.

Now, I do wear some stuff with logos on it.
Logos of things I actually support, know about, and care about.
I'm a Penn State fan. Got a couple of sweatshirts and t-shirts.
Watched almost every game this year.
Loved the Orange Bowl.
I'm Silver & Black when it comes to the pros.
Watched most of the games this year, and have for 30-odd years.
I love the Beatles, and have a number of shirts with the lads on them.
Been a fan since I was 7.
However, I wouldn't wear something that I didn't know about.

I spotted a kid wearing an AC/DC shirt the other day. It was a Back In Black shirt.
Told him it was one of may favorite albums.
He didn't know it was an album.
He didn't know who the BAND was!
Why you wearing a shirt of a band when you don't even know who they are?
It looks cool.
Ye gods.
When I was that age, and you couldn't get the shirts at every store in the world or via the internet, you had to go to the shows to get the shirts.
They were a badge of honor.
You showed your allegiance to your band on your chest.
You lived or died by how cool your taste was.
The kids who went to the 82 Pyromania Def Leppard shows?
The ones that got the Joe Elliot british flag muscle shirts?
They were the coolest kids on the block.
You used to taunt and abuse the kids wearing the Journey shirts. (I still do, btw, they were just lame)
And now kids are wearing the shirts, and they don't even know who the bands are, let alone ever having seen them.
I feeeeeellll ssooooooooo old.

If you like the show, you'll LOVE the book!

I just finished Mr. Monk Goes To The Firehouse, the first in a series of Monk novels written by Lee Goldberg, who wrote several episodes of the show, and also many other TV shows.
How good is it?
I'll go with superb.
Having written for the show, Goldberg's familiarity with his characters shows. Most TV show novelizations range from pretty good, (SOME Trek stuff) to wretched (haven't seen a Buffy book yet that didn't suck), but this falls into the excellent category.
We get a series of apparently unrelated crimes, and Monk winds up having to deal with some truly horrid experiences to solve this one.
It's written from the viewpoint of Natalie, and now this character makes more sense than ever. We know she's a widow, and that she has to work pretty hard to keep things together for her and her daughter. What you don't know from the show, is how much of her own issues with losing her husband she sees reflected in Monk's own demons. It's quite touching to see how she reveals more and more of those troubles while relating to Monk's own issues in a way the Sharona Fleming character never could. (If the decision to change characters was based solely on money, bad move guys, if you had the Natalie character on the back burner and realized you could do a lot more with her, then kudos on a job well done.) I challenge anyone who flat out says that the Sharona character was better to read this book, and see if you still feel that way.
Now, all seriousness aside, it's a damned funny book.
To begin with, the thought of Adrian Monk having to move out of his house due to termites, is hilarious. Seeing his issues with hotels, is even funnier. "If the wallpaper under the sink doesn't match up, what kind of workmanship can you expect in the rest of the place?"
His solution to trying to survive in Natalie's house is a good chunk of the book, and it's outstanding.
The whole thing reads like a superb episode of the show, and in fact, you can picture every single bit of it in your mind.
Try it, you'll like it.

What else am I reading?
Strangers-Simon Clark: I discovered this guy by accident, but am most happy with it. This is good, apocolyptic horror, as a disease run rampant destroys civilization as we know it, and the survivors are trying to get through it as best as they can. Our hero is Greg Valdiva, and he alone can sense if anyone carries the disease, which takes months to show symptoms. H'es employed as the executioner by a small town that has used it's isolation to survive and lock the outside world out. If anyone new shows up, and Valdiva sense they're carriers, it's out with his trusty axe, and wham! No more new guy. How he deals with being such a man, and his attempts to find some sanity in a world gone mad make for an excellent read.
I rate horror novels on the Nights Sleeping with the Lights On scale (NSLO).
0 is not even remotely scary, and a 10 means waking up with the cold shivers at 4:41 in the morning.
This book's a solid 5 nighter.