Monthly Archives: July 2005

Calling All Destroyers

The second reference to my new favorite album (iTunes Music Store and Amazon). Get it.

I have two new posts to work on. Unfortunately they both require more than me sitting down and banging them out on the keyboard. I gotta do some prep work and my free time is minimal right now.

One is an unveiling of a skill that I have been blessed with. No one has ever witnessed its greatness before and you’ll be the first to behold its glory.

The other is inspired by this post. Yes folks, it’s the second installment in the Essential Skills Instructional Video series. Hopefully you’ve mastered the first one by now. If not, watch it again and keep practicing.

So I’ve been singing my little butt off and rehearsals are going well but we’ve only got like three weeks to pull off an amazing amount of music. Wish us luck and come see the show. I’ll post more about the dates and times later.

BTW, Internet Explorer sucks. This is not news. See, it doesn’t do transparent backgrounds on PNG images. Go get Firefox if you are on Windows. Please.


J. Peterman got robbed

My wife wanted to watch Dancing with the Stars. We took ballroom dance lessons some years ago and like to dance so we thought it might be interesting to watch. It was, mostly.

I’m not going to give my opinion on all the couples and whatnot but here’s the basic premise of the show if you’re not familiar with it. A “celebrity” is paired with a professional ballroom dancer. They learn a dance routine or two in a week and then perform on live television. There are three judges who give their opinions and scores. The public gets to call in and vote, the two scores are combined and each week the lowest scoring couple is given the boot.

Right off the bat, we knew that a female celebrity being paired with a male pro dancer had the advantage. Why? The male is supposed to lead and it is up to him to make the couple look good. Now the lady has to move gracefully and follow his lead but a male celebrity has a lot to learn and accomplish if he wants to have a chance in this competition.

In the end it came down to John O’Hurley and Kelly Somebody-from-some-soap-opera. This girl started out terrible but she kept coming back every week. I’ll admit she was the sexiest celebrity on the show. She beat out Joey Mac from NKOTB for the title of sexiest, but barely.

Anyway, I figured her sex appeal was the only reason she was staying on the show. I have no doubt the judges’ score and the public vote have little to do with the actual results. It’s all about what the producers want to do, I think. They didn’t want to eliminate the show’s sex appeal. But, Kelly got better. She worked really hard and made it into the finals.

John O’Hurley (and his pro partner) kicked ass the entire 6-week competition. Even the judges admitted they were the couple to beat. The last dance of the show was freestyle and the judges praised them and gave them a 27 out of 30 possible points. Then Kelly and her partner did their freestyle dance, which I thought was not as good as John’s. It was sloppier, though I admit some of it was more technically challenging.

27 was the highest score that had been given on the show. 9-9-9. There hadn’t been a single 10 awarded, ever. Until the end.

The crappin’ judges gave Kelly 10-10-10. They ended up winning the whole damn thing.

This is the biggest load of red-ruffed-tail-lemur-from-madagascar droppings I have ever seen. I was so pissed. The judges were paid off and the producers are idiots. I feel like after committing to this 6-week show, I have been betrayed.

You know what? I’m going to boycott ABC. Yep, that’s right, in fact, I’m never going to use the letters a, b and c again. So there.

I hope I w_s the only one th_t w_sted my time w_t_hing this _r_p show. I think everyone should _oy_ott the _hannel _nd the letters. Huzz_h!

Fantástico Cuatro

Scene: Starkville Hollywood Premiere Cinema

Time: Two minutes before lights dim

And Action: I rise up out of my seat, clear my throat and address the theater patrons. Excuse me. Thank you for choosing SHPC for your entertainment this evening. I am the associate manager of the theater though I’m off tonight. I’d like to take this moment of your time before the feature presentation begins to go over new theater regulations.

Cell phones are great tools. They allow us to stay in contact with those we love and can help out in a tight spot. Just about everyone has one these days. In fact, let’s see, if you have a cell phone, hold it up. (I fish mine out of my pocket and raise it up. Dozens of others do the same.)

You know, nothing is more frustrating and annoying than to pay good money to see a movie only to have it interrupted by someone’s ringing cell phone and ensuing conversation. Right now I ask all of you to put your phone into silent mode. If you don’t know how, then just turn it off. (I put mine on silent.) Thank you. Your fellow movie-goers thank you.

Now, a word of warning. If your cell phone rings during the feature, you will be taken out back by Burl, our policy enforcer, and beaten with one of those swimming pool noodle things. We don’t want to hurt you, just let you know that we disapprove of your lack of consideration for others. This is our no tolerance cell phone policy.

Thank you and enjoy the show.

I’m pretty much the perfect movie watcher. I can totally get into the suspension of disbelief, drool rolling down my chin mode and be all Ooooo cool effects. I generally gauge how good a movie is by my overall mood afterwards. If I’m kinda hopping around and Let’s go by Walmart and buy stuff! it was probably a pretty good movie. On the other hand, if I’m more somber and Let’s go home, then it might not have been a good movie.

I’ve decided to be more aware during movies.

So I saw Fantastic Four tonight. Overall, pretty good. I meant to go to Walmart and buy stuff, but I got sidetracked by food and then forgot to go. I tried to pay more attention to the story telling and whatnot so here’s a few comments.

I thought the beginning was edited too heavily. It felt like it took all of five minutes for them to be hit by the space storm and be back on earth discovering their powers. I, personally, needed more exposition. See, I’m not really familiar with the comic so I don’t know the characters or the back story. Why were they in space again? What was this storm thing? How was it going to save humanity? How do these people know each other?

It wasn’t hard to pick up on the these-people-probably-had-a-previous-relationship-that-did-not-end-well vibe between Sue Storm and Reed Whatshisname. The director kept beating me over the head with it. I got it, thanks. I mean, he could’ve spent the time on some other exposition details.

The Thing’s turn against the group was a bit thin. I understand his motivation and his emotional state was well laid out. But Mr. Fantastico Rubber Man was obviously working his little rubber fingers to their rubber bones. The part where he fell asleep at his desk and his face was all mushed when he woke up was great. All it took to push Thing over the edge was Victor Doom, who has dubious motivations anyway, to say The reason you ain’t fixed is Reed is trying to get with the girl from Dark Angel. The Thing is all Dude, you’re right. Then Thing finds nobody is at the office working because Reed is out with the girl from that movie Honey. Bad timing. Didn’t Thing see all the cool gadgets and equipment Reed had up and running and testing on in the previous half hour of the movie? Dang, how fast does a man have to work?

I don’t know, it’s not that bad but like I said, I felt it was a bit thin.

And what’s with Jessica Alba? She’s got the Michael Jackson disease I think. She’s gone from being portrayed as kinda black to kinda latina to now kinda whitebread. Anyway. Not that I keep up with her.

I actually like the Dr. Doom character best. Not his qualities as a person so much but I thought his character’s story was told the best. There wasn’t too much time spent on it but I didn’t feel like something got left out either. I totally got him. Human-party-torch-boy wasn’t hard to get either but he wasn’t as interesting.

I dug the scene where Thing and Doom fall out the window, break through the skylight and end up in the pool. Great. The guy trying to get in the elevator and escape the water was funny.

One of the funniest things was when Thing fell on a car with this white lady and black lady in it. The look on the black lady’s face deserves an Oscar. Really. I’m gonna call in a few favors and see what I can do.

If I sit here long enough, I could think of more to say but I don’t want to.

I saw Destre at the theater again. I have got to get me a picture with him. Add that to my picture of the Reverend and me and I’ve got a nice collection of Starkville Characters going.

That’s All Folks

Well I’ve been terribly busy with rehearsals every night for the musical revue. It hasn’t left much time for anything else. Except breakdancin’. Yeah, I told you it was on my list. I was up until midnight trying to learn The Swipe and The Glide. Strangely, I didn’t master it in about 15 minutes like I expected I would. Looks like I might have to put some effort into it. Fair enough. Rest assured it’ll be awesome when I get these moves down. Heck, I’ll even make a second instructional video for yas.

Meanwhile, I have this to say: mustaches, in general, make me suspicious. I don’t know, they just do.

I like classical music. Big sweeping movements and that emotional build up of chords and music leading to that oh-is-it-finally-going-to-resolve moment are just lovely.

Anyway, I realized the other day listening to MPB (Mississippi Public Broadcasting) that I, and probably many of my peers’, introduction to classical music is due to Looney Tunes.

Think about it man.

William Tell, Ride of the Valkyries, Barber of Seville, etc etc etc are all recognizable for many people due to Bugs Bunny and friends. Even today, when I hear one of these pieces, images of Daffy or Foghorn Leghorn or Wile E. Coyote float up from the buried portion of my subconscious where my childhood memories live.

I plan to buy the Looney Tunes DVDs for my own enjoyment and for my future, not-yet-conceived-or-born-as-far-as-i-know children.

Poor kids today probably don’t watch Looney Toons. Surely it’s still on TV, I haven’t checked and I haven’t seen it in years. I don’t know what the cartoons are like today. When I do catch one, I don’t know what the heck is going on or when I should laugh or be scared or anything. But I bet there ain’t no classical music kickin’ it on the cartoons today. Man I hope I’m wrong.

P2 / C * (K – 7) = huh?

Well I made that formula up to convey the following.

Unless you do not have ears and do not have eyes or do not own a radio or television, you’ve no doubt heard of Paris Hilton. See, she’s this really talented actress and…bawahahaha…I meant really talented attention whore. Anyways, she’s dating and is engaged to this dude named Paris. So, together we have Paris and Paris or P2 (cue Simon and Simon theme music). Well, that got me thinking about the time I had a girlfriend way back in seventh grade named Carrie. Yup, Carrie and Kary. In case you are wondering, yes, it was confusing at times.

It’s hard to remember back that far with any details but there are a few things that stand out. She was a year older than me. We were in the “gifted” class together. And by “gifted”, I mean we did things like sit around and think of as many uses for an empty plastic six-pack drink ring holder thing. Yes, stretch those little minds children, what can you do with an empty six-pack holder besides strangle poor unsuspecting birds? Think about that while I step outside for a smoke.

You had to take all these hard tests to get into the class but I don’t remember it being much more than busy work. We did some cool things like design a city and build a model of our design. My group almost failed and I don’t know why. I had to drink alot of lunchroom chocolate milk to have enough half-pint cartons for all the buildings, dang it! But I ain’t bitter.

Right, so this girl, Carrie, was in my class. I don’t remember how we “got together”, but we did at some point. It probably entailed the usual piece of paper with “Will you go with me?” on it covertly passed to the girl by me via one of her friends.

Man, let me tell you, up until about eighth grade, I had tons of girlfriends. Probably a new one every month or so. Of course I wasn’t old enough to drive anywhere and there was nothing sexual or even physical beyond holding hands about these relationships. But. I. was. the. man. I had girls asking me to be their boyfriend and stuff. Then around eighth grade too much self-awareness kicked in or something. And kids started being sexually active and that sorta freaked me out. I just didn’t have an interest in getting naked with girls at that time in my life. I don’t really know what I was into at the time but going out with a girl and maybe her expecting some nakedity along the way was just too scary. Though I imagine most girls felt the same way but what did I know? Nothing.

Right, so this girl, Carrie, was in my class. I had gotten contact lenses for the first time ever in seventh grade. I had worn glasses, big thick coke bottle glasses, since the second or third grade. I was always afraid to try to kiss a girl with glasses, at least that’s the excuse I told my friends when they asked if I had kissed a girl yet. So, sans-glasses, I decided Carrie would be the one.

One day, at the end of class, I told her I needed to tell her something after class. Woowoo, was I ever slick. When the bell rang signaling the end of class, my emotions were boiling over and I don’t think I have ever known fear and apprehension like that before or since. I casually lead her outside and around the side of the building. She’s all So what did you want to tell me? I’m like Uh uh uh uh.

She knew.

But I just stood there like a dolt for-seemingly-ever. I had my hands on her waist and she had her hands on my shoulders. The setup was perfect, no one was around, JUST DO IT YOU PANSY. I knew time was getting short; the bell for the next period would ring any moment. But I was just standing there with her patiently smiling up at me.

Then, the next thing I remember, her tongue was in my mouth. Not wanting to offend the first-girl-I-ever-kissed, I stuck mine in hers and waggled it around a bit.

The moment lasted forever; time seemed to stand still, spitballs and paper airplanes frozen in mid-air while we did our tongue dance in each other’s mouth. I WAS KISSING A GIRL. w00t! I don’t remember if it was a particularly good kiss or not (most likely not since it was my first one and all). I was just euphoric from actually, finally KISSING A GIRL.

And then it was over and immediately the bell rang and the spitballs and paper airplanes resumed their flights toward their respective targets and we ran off to our next class so we wouldn’t be late.

So that was a high point of the relationship. There were lows, oh yes, there were lows.

Her birthday came up and she invited me to her birthday party. I unfortunately could not attend for some reason that I can’t recall. The big question was What Do I Get Her? From what I remember, I messed around and didn’t have anything but a card on the night before her party. See, my mom was going to swing me by the party so I could drop her gift off and say a quick hello before going on to my previous engagement.

Check it out, I had seventeen dollars to my name. That was it. I couldn’t give all of it to her, I mean, how would I eat? Haha. Anyway, I was going to put the ten dollar bill in the card ’cause I’m a generous guy like that.

Now, I know money is a sucky gift to give your eighth grade girlfriend, but what else was I going to do? It was the freakin’ night before and I had nothing but my seventeen dollars, man. My mom saw what I was doing and she said No, you are not going to give that little girl your ten dollar bill. But Mooom, it’s all I’ve got to give her right now. Well, you’re not giving her the ten dollars. Me, being a somewhat selfish kid, gave in and slid the five and two ones into the card instead. I felt bad, but I just didn’t have any other option. Mom wouldn’t let me give her the ten and I didn’t have anything else so it was the seven or nothing. She wouldn’t care would she? I mean, isn’t it the thought that counts anyway?

We rolled around to the party the next day and I hopped out of mom’s Delta ’88 in search of my girlfriend. I found her by the pool with a bunch of other kids, some I knew, some I didn’t. I felt slightly out of place. We didn’t do a whole lot together outside of school. She gave me a hug and I gave her the card. With the seven dollars inside. Yeah, a five bill and two ones.

She tore into the card, excited to see what her loving boyfriend had no doubt agonzied over to find just the perfect gift to reflect my deep emotional connection to her. She took the cash out, incredulously fanned it open like it might have almost been something and said with a forced smile Seven dollars, thanks. She looked me over to see if I was kidding or had her real present hidden behind my back or something. No such luck.

I felt like a very small idiot.

Oh well, I left and went whenever it was I was going. The birthday gift, thankfully, was never brought up.

That summer Carrie left on an extended family vacation and like I said, I had the womens lined up at that time in my life. I think I broke up with her over the phone. I at least waited until she got back home, it’s not like I broke up with her while she was on vacation, heck, that would’ve been cruel.

So I wonder what the equivalent of my birthday gift for Carrie would be for Paris for Paris. I guess he might get her only one car? Or a ring that is less than eight carats? Or a mansion with less than a double-digit number of bedrooms?

Oh, an eight bedroom, twenty five thousand sq/ft home with a Mercedes in the five-car garage? Uh, thanks.

Kathy Fong is the Bomb

I must apologize to those of you who have been relentlessly clicking the refresh button and have only been met with disappointment. Well be disappointed no longer! Or maybe a bit longer.

I’m sitting in the bed with lappy in my lappy. Dang I Love Wireless. DILW. I’m listening to the gentle sounds of gun fire outside my bedroom window. It’s possible it’s only fireworks but gun fire sounds more neater-er. I’ve taken the weekend to visit mis padres and mis padres-in-laws. I did some shopping and picked some clothes and a couple of CDs. Awesome points to those who can name one of the CDs based on today’s title. I’m all pooped out but I’ve got some new posts to work on that will be along shortly. In the mean time, go here and read everything.

Also, as is plainly obvious (and redundant), I have mad ‘shop skillz.