Archive for May, 2010

Things John L Says

You may remember that I’ve mentioned John L before. He’s Cory’s grandfather’s brother…his great-uncle, or something. He’s probably about 65,I guess, and he’s got a moderate case of Alzheimers. He knows where he is, who he is, and he can recognize the people who come to his house on a regular basis, so he’s not that far gone. Also, he kinda looks like this guy:

Like this, but with more crazy.

If you’ve seen the Wizard of Oz sketch in the Munnery episode of Robot Chicken, you’ve heard what John L sounds like. If you haven’t seen it, then you can watch it by clicking on that link back there…right after you kneel before Zod.

To really understand what’s wrong with him, you’d have to sit down and talk to him. Since these conversations are just too good to miss and you’re all incapable of actually talking to the man, I’ve posted them here for your reading pleasure. All of these conversations occurred on his front porch. John L’s words are in red, like Jesus.

When John L is walking around and thinks no one is paying any attention to him, he tends to mutter to himself. Now, that’s not particularly strange. A lot of people, especially old men, do that. But he’s not making mental notes, or even holding a conversation with himself. He’s just mumbling the same “words” over and over. “Cock’em, suck’em, dick’em, fuck’em.” Sometimes there’s a variation in the pattern, but it’s always one of those four. In conversation, he’ll often use them as expletives, as you’ll see.

This was one of the first times I talked to John L, so I didn’t really know to “play along” when he talked to me. “So ye comin’ down here n’ stay wit Coreh?” “Yessir.” “Eh?” “Yes sir, I am.” “EH?” *nod nod* “Heh heh, well I’ll be a cock’em dick’em. How’d ye get here, walk?” “I got a ride” “EH?“I GOT A RIDE.” “Where ye gon’ sleep?” “Well…with Cory, I suppose.” “EH?” “WITH CORY.” “Heh heh, wit Coreh…cock’em fuck’em.”

“I tell ye ’bout dat deer I kilt cup days back?” “No John you sure didn’t.” “I seen it runnin’ crossa cock’em road here n’ I went back’in got mah dick’em rifle fromma shed.” “Is that right?” *big nod* “Cock’em fuck’em right. I seen it jump inna cock’em tree” *points to 30-foot tree” “but I shot’em and kilt’em dead.” “That’s pretty cool, John.” “Heh heh.”

Those are the only interesting conversations I’ve personally had with the man, but I’ve heard some great stories. Once, Cory convinced him that his friend Bradley lived both in a tree and on the moon in the course of ten minutes. The one I really wish I’d seen, though, involves Cory’s friend Josh when he was 13 or 14. He ran up to the normally-slow old man and yanked the lit cigarette out of his mouth without stopping and just kept running. Without missing a beat, this “feeble” and “arthritic” bastard jumped up, grabbed a goddamn brick from the yard, and chased Josh down. Yes, an old man caught up with a teenage boy in a footrace, and probably would’ve beaten him to death with that brick if he hadn’t gotten his cigarette back. I also heard that John L drank a lot in his younger, less-senile days. Man, I would bet he could tell some amazing stories if he still knew what was real and what wasn’t.

One hundred percent accurate.

I’ll really be sad when that cool old dude dies.

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Movies and More

No, this post isn’t a bunch of movie reviews. No, I didn’t go see Iron Man 2 this weekend and all of a sudden feel like a professional critic. However, I have a friend who did, and does. His name is Steven Reynolds, and you might remember him from my first post.

Doesn't everything about him just scream "cool"? >.>Everything about him screams “cool”, right? Right…?!

Just a couple of days ago, I was talking about my blog. I told Steven that it’s mainly just the random things I think about with just the right hint of sarcasm and cynicism that everyone loves, but I sometimes talk about movies/books/games etc. that I enjoyed (or particularly hated). Apparently, Steven didn’t know exactly how easy it is to start your own “little webpage” (he refuses to call them blogs) and post whatever the hell you want. He has some very…hm…forceful opinions, and can’t stand it when he doesn’t get the chance to vent them to someone. This is why he almost always comes to our house after watching a new movie or playing a new game: not to rub it in our faces, but to tell us what he thought about it.

Anyway, this post is to promote his “little webpage”, Movies and More, which he is currently building…that’s why there aren’t any posts yet. You can read his very direct, completely whatever-the-opposite-of-poetic-is reviews there. But I’ll warn you now: he’s very hard-hitting. Not Chris-Matthews, makes-you-wanna-punch-him-in-the-face hard-hitting, but he doesn’t pull any punches. No sugar coating when a movie is horrible, and no hesitation to give it the praise he feels it deserves. Since you already read my blog, you obviously don’t have a problem with (often-creative) vulgarity, but I still feel like I should tell you that it will be there…and it will be plentiful. The typical “I would give it 1 out of 5 stars” would sound more like “Yeeeeah, this movie sucked balls. Big, hairy balls”. A good movie normally described as “an action-packed adventure”, to Steven, is “a kick-ass movie with a bunch of cool fuckin’ explosions and shit.”

So if you want to read reviews from a 20-year-old with a 16-year-old mind and a 10-year-old vocabulary (and trust me, you do), then check out his blog. Even if you don’t want to read it, he likes to have petty arguments so he’s reeeeeally easy to troll.

Oh, and he also does music and video games and websites and stuff, not just movies.

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Some things…and some stuff

You know what I hate? People who don’t express the things that they hate. They sit there, stewing in their own contempt for everything, when a simple explosion or well-placed rant would solve their problems. So, because of this thought that sprung in my head at work today while watching one of the most miserable women I’ve ever met slap some Whoppers together, I’ve decided to rant about a few things that have been bugging me.

“More than you think”: This phrase is complete bullshit. A little part of my brain twinges every time I hear someone say this, and I think a part of me actually dies when they say it to me. My conversation partner will spout off some unrealistic-sounding facts or data, and my response will be “Really? That doesn’t seem right,” or something similar. Here we go. “Yeah, I know, but it happens more often than you think.” Really, you smart motherfucker? Do you know exactly how often I think that a given even takes place? Of course you fucking don’t. Maybe, just maybe, I fully believe that fourteen thousand, six hundred and forty-one dogs have saved their owners from drowning. Then, if you tell me that over seven hundred dogs have done it, then that isn’t “more than I think”, now is it? But what bugs me the most is that it’s so goddamn easy to fix. If you’d just change it to “More than you might think”, you wouldn’t sound like a presumptuous douche. So get it right or STFU.

Nerdy girls: This seemingly-recent obsession with “nerdy girls” has me a bit…perplexed. Apparently the definition of “nerd” has been stretched completely out of proportion, but only when it applies to women. As a self-proclaimed (but totally legit) nerd, I have to admit that I’m just a little bit offended. Being slightly above average in one academic or technological field does not mean that you’re automatically a nerd. Let’s say Miss Brittany Hypothetical got her thick blonde hair, blue eyes, model figure, and athletic talent from her mother, following in her footsteps and becoming a cheerleader in high school. She’s popular and cheerful, obsessed with fashion and boys and the like. Now, let’s say that she got just a touch of her father’s brains, so she does surprisingly well in math. I don’t mean she’s “start college at age twelve” good, just “hey Brittany can you help me with number seven” good. Is she a nerd because she can solve for X when her other cheerleader friends can’t? No. Being slightly smarter than average doesn’t make you a nerd. Putting a sweater vest and a pair of glasses on Heidi Klum doesn’t make her a nerd either.

Pictured: Model. Not pictured: Nerd.

You just have to face it: most legitimately-nerdy girls are average looking. Also, in case you didn’t know, we don’t even call ourselves “nerdy girls”. That implies that having a vagina somehow makes you special in our world. We’re just nerds, but that doesn’t mean you can disgrace us like that.  Can you single-heal Archavon and Koralon in T9 gear? Can you get 206% on Castlevania SotN? Can you recite The Raven or Lady Macbeth’s hand-washing scene on the spot? Do you even understand binary? I didn’t think so. Come back when you have any idea what I’m talking about.

Online bullying Gimme a fuckin’ break. Really? Online bullying? There are articles and warning ads everywhere about this bullshit. Apparently it makes kids feel bad about themselves or some shit. There was even a girl somewhere who killed herself because of it. You know what I think? If your kid bursts into tears because some fucktard on the internet calls them names, they need to grow the fuck up. You’re not being “bullied”, you’re being fucking trolled. It’s a common internet phenomenon, look it up. The anonymity of the internet makes people assholes. This is a well-established fact, just like the fact that not everyone in the world is going to love you. Your parents baby you, your friends baby you, and your teachers baby you. Time to wake up, sweetie, and realize that this country, this world, is full of dickbags. You don’t like it? That’s what the glowing button on your newfangled computin’ box is for. If a malicious comment from a random stranger drives you to suicide, you had some deeply-buried problems to begin with and it’s good that we got you out of the gene pool before you could piss in it.

“You don’t/couldn’t understand”: This is similar to “more than you think” in the respect that it’s a totally bullshit phrase. How the fuck do you know? Maybe I can understand, maybe I can’t. Yeah, your mom just died in a car accident. It’s tragic, and you’re feeling every horrible emotion you’ve ever known stronger than you ever have before. But maybe, for instance, I witnessed the car accident that killed my boyfriend a few years ago. Did you ever think of that? Of course not, you self-absorbed cuntwaffle. When you say “You couldn’t understand”, you are implying that the person you’re talking to has never experienced anything even remotely similar (or as fucked up) as what you’re going through. Do you honestly think that bad shit only happens to you? Get the fuck out. Now. I’m not even kidding.

You’re welcome to Photoshop what you think a cuntwaffle would look like.

On the plus side, as you may have pieced together from way at the top of this post, I got a job at Burger King. It’s not a fantastic job, but it’s about as enjoyable as a fast food job can be. The pay is about as bad as you’d expect, but the job’s not horrible. I’ve gotten good at pretending that I give a damn about people I don’t know, it’s second nature to me, so that part is easy. It’ll pay the bills until I can finish all the classes I need to get a better job. Today had what has to be one of the top five customer-related moments I’ve ever had. An older man, probably about 65, came up to my register. I was busy filling a drive-thru order, so my coworker (and only friend so far) Stephanie took it for me. When she said “here or to go?”, he said “Oh, definitely to go. For I have miles to go before I sleep.” A few seconds later, he said something like “Oh, she knows her poetry”, so I’m guessing she identified the line. I knew I’d heard it, so I asked “Where is that from?” Before Stephanie could tell me, he goes “You tell me.” I said “Oh…I know this…The Road Not Taken?” The old dude high-fived me! “Good! Who wrote it?” “Bah…Oh! Robert Frost!” and another high-five!

Definitely my favorite customer so far. I hope he comes back.

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