“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: August 29, 2004

Saturday, September 04, 2004

So I get out of the shower this morning to see an ambulance across the street at the Mark family residence.

I'm able to do that because the window in my second floor bathroom looks down on the street.

This kinda disturbs some people.

Well, actually it seems to disturb everyone but me.

The first person to complain was my loving, but clinically insane, mother. She noticed one day while she was parked out front waiting for me that she could see my arm through the window where I was leaning against the window frame while taking a piss.

It really bothered her that anyone that knew the layout of our house and had a habit of staring in my windows could see my elbow whenever I took a whiz.

Told you she's insane.

But she's not the only one.

Since the house directly opposite the window is now occupied I've gotten numerous complaints by the many users of my facilities that they can hear, and to some extent see, the neighbors who seem to do nothing but sit on their front porch and have loud arguments over cigarettes.

I tell them to do what I do; pretend you're pissing on them.

Makes me feel better.

But anyways, about 9AM an ambulance loaded up a member of the Mark family. I was so concerned I went to sleep.

About 3PM I'm awakened by what sounded like 12 or so children screaming and crying. As the noise continued to get louder, I could reasonably assume it was getting closer.

Turns out there was a domestic dispute a few houses up.

I'm pretty sure another of our neighbors was escorted off by a municipal vehicle.

And to top it off, that scavenger of human misery, the ice cream man returned today.

So I'm having mixed emotions. I hate the fucking ice cream man, but I hate my neighbors too and it seems there's a few fewer of them tonight.

Overall, I guess I'm feeling ok.

So I'm still leaving on my beach trip, which is still from the 11th to the 18th, but I won't be leaving for Brian's place till Thursday, which is the 9th I believe.

Like I said, I'll try to post the hotel name and room number before I leave, so if you're in the neighborhood we can party.

Ok, I just flat out don't know what to make of this.

Friday, September 03, 2004

It’s time once again for,
The Ford W. Maverick Summer Blockbuster Review!


As I mentioned last post, I recently saw both ‘Hero’ and ‘Napoleon Dynamite’.

'Hero' (or Ying Xiong as it was originally titled)was fucking great. Originally released in China in 2002, it was imported to our market by Quentin Tarrantino. Hero is everything that Crouching Tiger should have been. Call me crazy, but when I watch a martial arts flick, I want to see martial arts. Not a bunch of freaking wire-work.

I guess Jackie Chan must have spoiled me.

Hero did have a wire shot or two, but for the most part it looked pretty real, none of the flying bullshit Tiger had.

On top of that, it had a great story. If, however, you don’t like subtitles you might want to wait for the DVD and an English language track. I just hope they don’t fuck up the story in the translation. The English track on Crouching Tiger bore almost no resemblance to the subtitled version.

Anyways, Hero was a damn good movie.

Which brings us to ‘Napoleon Dynamite’.

Before even going in I figured Napoleon couldn’t possibly be as good as they said it was. Hell, Ain’t It Cool News (AICN) has been tonguing it’s balls for months now like the cure for freakin’ cancer was in there, so I just KNEW it couldn’t be that good.

And I was right.

Having said that, however, it is worth seeing. There were a few laugh out loud moments and several chuckles. Overall, as Nate would say, it’s better than a kick in the face.

I should point out that I got to see it for free in an empty theater. How do I get privileges like that? Because I’m the freakin’ man and don’t you fucking forget it.

It should be pointed out that this movie was made by a company owned by MTV. MTV used said company to manufacture an ‘independent’ film. I have to give it to them; it does LOOK like an independent film. It has all of the earmarks of independence except for the advertising budget which is approximately ten times what they spent on actually filming the fucking movie.

When you first see Napoleon you figure he’s got to be the most pathetic person on earth. Then you start meeting members of his family.

This is one of those movies that’s funny because it makes you feel better about your life.

I just turned 30, I’m unemployed, my body looks like it was stitched together out of the corpses of people who died by drowning in cholesterol and I still felt better about myself after watching this movie.

Seriously, anyone considering suicide should watch Napoleon Dynamite.

I’ve commented several times about how this movie looks like it’s set in the 80’s. Music, clothes, hairstyles, cars, attitudes, every respect you can imagine. It looks more like an 80’s movie that the freakin’ Breakfast Club (which I just watched the other day). Only the involvement of the Internet in the plot clues you in to the fact that it’s present day.

Someone told me that it looked like the 80’s because it’s set in Idaho and everything still looks like that there.

If that is the case, I’d like to urge the US government to BOMB IDAHO. If the threat of 1982 coming back and conquering us in our sleep isn’t a terrorist threat then I don’t fucking know what is.

This should not be confused with my pleas to bomb Mexico, Canada, Cuba, the moon, or Josh Hartnett. Those are all for separate, but equally pressing reasons (we must destroy Hartnett before he ‘acts’ again!).

But if you can get in for free, go see Napoleon Dynamite. Otherwise, it can probably wait till home video. It is worth watching once, maybe twice, but I don't know if it's worth $7.50.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

THIS probably isn't going to happen, but good god I'd like it to.

Read more here.

Monday, August 30, 2004

I'm pretty beat. I've been up since the crack of fucking noon.

Longer really, as I went to bed a 6 AM and just tossed and turned till about 11. Then I punched the snooze button for a while.

Why did I do this? Two reasons really. The first one is, I had to go to the mall.

I hate the fucking mall.

So why did I do THAT? Because a friend of ours works at the movie theater and got us into a couple for free.

The other reason I got up at the obscene hour I did is to get my sleeping pattern back on track for my upcoming vacation.

You heard me.

Brian and I are heading to Myrtle Beach from the 11th to the 18th. If I find out before I go I'll post the room number so if you're in the area we can party.

Problem is, I think my sleepless night was caused by the anticipation of this trip.

I'm looking forward to it. I think it's going to be a lot of fun and I think I really need it, but ever since my medical problems and the prolonged recovery time, I find that things like this send me into near panic-attacks.

I'm not sure why, and I know that I'll feel great while I'm doing it and I'll feel even better afterward, but right up until I leave I'm going to feel this sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Part of it is the fact that I still have this massive hernia (which will look great with a bathing suit), not to mention the fact that I'm almost out of money (this trip is going to cost somewhere in the $500 range) and I still don't know what's going on with Social Security.

Here's the deal, I got sick and stayed sick for about 18 months, the length of my insurance. I tried to get the hernia fixed before it ran out, but the insurance company stalled and ran the clock out.

So I fucking love them.

The reason why I remained sick for most of 18 months instead of the 2 months that it was supposed to take was because the hospital I went to told me to clean my wounds with something called Betadine. It appeared to be some variant of Iodine. I didn't realize it at the time, but the betadine was doing such a good job of killing microorganisms that it was also killing off my immune system, opening me up to infection and therefore two additional surgeries to deal with said infections.

So I don't go to that hospital anymore.

I'd sue them, but it would probably fuck over the surgeon that saved my life and I just can't bring myself to do that.

I'm just not that ungrateful.

So I had enough to make the down payment on the surgery I need, but the hospital won't touch me if I don't have insurance to cover anything going wrong.

With me, things frequently go wrong.

I'm trying to get on Social Security so they'll cover anything going wrong. I still have just enough money to maybe make the down payment on the surgery if they'll just get my back.

But the fact that I have any money at all might keep them from accepting me.

But if I spend all the money I have left they might still not accept me, or just decide that they're not going to cover this surgery as it's not life-threatening.

So then I'll have to get a job.

I'm not opposed to getting a job, hell, at this point it'd be nice to have something to do, but even if I land a job with benefits they won't pay for the surgery because it's a pre-existing condition. Of course, a job without benefits won't be much help at all.

Then there's the fact that if I do get on Social Security they probably won't let me get my surgery from my preferred surgeon as he's in Columbus Ohio and I'm in West Virginia. I’m all likelihood; Social Security will want me to go to the hospital that fucked me up to the point where I couldn't get my fucking hernia operation in the first fucking place.

This is the hell that is my life.

All things considered though, it could be a lot worse, and I know it.

It just sucks being so close to being well and not being able to get there. And I feel like a dick even bitching about it because I'm damn lucky just to be alive and I know it, and I know there's a lot of people that don't have it nearly as good as I do. Just because I've been handed a pile of shit doesn't give me any right to piss and moan.

But it's starting to wear on me.

And that's exactly why I need this trip to the beach.

Anyways, I'll review the movies I saw, 'Hero' and 'Napoleon Dynamite' a little later.

Today's Fortune Cookie:
You will soon discover
how truly fortunate
you really are.


Due to a technical glitch, one of the new strips didn't get posted, but Zombie, goddess of cyberspace, has fixed the problem.

Check it out NOW!

Also, bowing to pressure from Mistress Victoria, I now have a Live Journal.

I'm sure I don't need to tell you all just how persuasive she can be.

So anyway, I'm messing with it, but it'll pretty well remain secondary to the blog here. Mainly because I finally got a pretty good handle on this fucker and since I'll never get back the brain space I dedicated to doing that I'm gonna continue to use this motherfucker.