Cynical Meat Sack

New Car Smell, Old Car Exhaust.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

A night at the movies

The wife and I caught a sneak preview of Into the Blue tonight, and before you immediately click the “next blog” button, I’m not going to subject you to some asinine review of the movie. That ain’t what this blog’s about.

I will say, that if you’ve seen any of the commercials or trailers for this flick, you’ll think that this is a Jessica Alba swimsuit and sharks movie. Half right, there is sharks, but they’re not the story. It’s not half bad…that’s my review.

I made a lot of observations during this excursion that I’d like to share with you:

This preview was put on by a local “Lite-Rock” radio station. The Wife won the passes, she actually got four, but we couldn’t find anyone else to go with us…not a good sign.

Have you ever been to any kind of event where everyone you see is completely average or below? Every person there was Joe and Jane Average, including the people who worked at the theater. I’ve been to extreme geek conventions and even there I’ve been able to spot the beautiful people. Not this time. The only beautiful person in the joint was my wife…and I love saying that…I’ll score for that comment, but it’s true. It was like we were surrounded by the Dungeons and Dragons Club.

I’ve got nothing against geeks. That would be E: drive calling the C: drive “Formatted”. But that was just weird. Next subject…

Nowadays, people really froth at the mouth to bitch about the commercials we have to sit through before a movie. The big gripe is: “I paid to see a movie, not commercials.” Whine-whine-whine. Except, most movies are filled with product placement. Oh, they don’t bitch about the subliminal stuff. Drink Pepsi. They’ll sit there and piss and moan. Eat at McDonald’s. Yet not pick up on the shit that’s on the screen. Buy Sony.

However, it’s really odd that when you pay $10 for a movie, you get the commercials. When you watch a sneak-peak, you get one trailer (maybe) and the movie. You’d think that the theater would make you sit through and hour of marketing to make up for the lost revenue and they've got a captive audience. Next subject…

My wife…who I love beyond measure and is one of the smartest people I know…asked a truly dumb question during this movie.

We’ve established that it was a Jessica Alba swimsuit movie. Ms. Alba spends at least 70% of this movie underwater and in a bikini. There is one sequence that she’s underwater in a wet suit, but there’s exactly 30 seconds worth of film with her IN the wet suit. The camera angles in this movie were shot by a guy who, what I would guess, is a close friend of Ms. Alba…or her OBGYN. You see Jessica’s butt in most underwater scenes. It’s also painfully obvious that it was cold in the sea during the shoot.

Anyway, half-way through the flick, my beautiful/smart wife leaned over and whispered in my ear:

“How many scenes need ass in this picture?”

I gave no outward reply. I’ve been married for 8 years. Guys, you do NOT reply to that question. However…my inner monologue replied:

“Every damned one of them!”

American cinema is built on Ass.

If you want brainy comedies, you go to England. If you want cartoons, you go to Japan. If you want action, you go to Hong Kong. If you want movies that look like they were shot in the 80’s, you go to Australia. If you want movies that make absolutely no fucking sense at all, you go to France or India.

But, if you want Ass…you look no further than America, baby! Every movie made in America has got ass. Why? Because the best ass comes from America. No other nation can boast about their ass. Other countries fear our ass.

Why did all the women in Afghanistan had to wear those durka’s. Not because of some ultra-suppressive religious state. Nope. It was because their men wanted to hide their women’s scrawny asses.

One more thing, then I’m done…

Have you noticed the trend in Hollywood today where most of the women look like transvestites from the planet Vulcan? Ladies, the penciled eyebrow thing is SO done. It’s just not natural to have eyebrows that are a full four inches from your eyeball. This constant look of surprise only worked for Bozo. Find something new to fuck with at the salon…please. I would rather see women stop shaving their underarms or grow a brillo pad down under than see this fad continue.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Web Cams, another reason not to leave your couch.

Have you ever heard the term: “I’m so bored I could watch the grass grow.”

Now you can watch the leaves turn. Enjoy Indiana has set up cameras that update every 15mins so that you, the bored masses, can view the leaves turn color before clogging my gutters.

I can’t help but think of the scene from The Meaning of Life, where the leaves in a tree are so depressed they throw themselves, screaming, to their demise.

Have we come to this? Do we really live in a world where we’re so freak’n busy that we have to watch nature on a monitor?

“But, Kyu, you’re a guy working on a laptop and a PC at the same time.”

I reserve the right to wallow in my hypocrisy. However, at least I get out to do stuff like this.

And if you really want to watch grass grow, go here. But please, get out once and awhile, put the mouse down and go watch leaves end their sad existence. If you don't live in a region where the seasons change, go buy a small tree and kill it. You'll feel so much better. At least I will.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Motorola and T-Mobile can suck sack.

I hate my phone. Yeah, I know…people bitch about their phone all the time, but I really hate my phone. It’s a Motorola with T-Mobile as the service provider. It sucks.

“Some people don’t even have phones, Kyu.”

Then they are the lucky ones, because this is a hunk of shit.

Top Ten Reasons why my phone sucks:

10. It’s a flip phone. I’ve lost more calls because I can’t answer this damn thing with one hand. I have to flip it open to answer. If I grab it the wrong way, it answers and hangs up at the same time. Sorry Mom.

9. The ringer on the loudest setting sounds like two mice fingering each other. I work in an industrial setting. I need a phone that rings like air-raid klaxon.

8. The screen rests on your face and becomes dirtier than a peep-show window. Maybe I need to use Stridex ® more often, but I can’t talk on the phone without splooging my screen with face oil.

7. It has a flashing yellow light when it has a signal and a flashing red light when it doesn’t. What deaf industrial engineer came up with this bright idea? Let’s put a fucking ridiculously annoying flashing light on our phone that’s on all the time. (The only thing good about this feature is that anyone else that has this phone must turn the damn thing off in a theater or they’ll look like they're a strobe beacon for a light aircraft field.

6. Every time I “miss” a call, I get three text messages: A) the announcement that I missed a call. (thanks.) B) the announcement that the phone call I missed is not an unknown number. C)the phone number I missed. What a clutter of shit. I have to hit 6 buttons before I can clear one missed call from my phone.

5. T-Mobile…get more. Get more what exactly? I leave a major interstate and I get no signal. I can’t get to download most of the content from the T-Mobile web site T-Zones ™ because my phone is just this side of obsolete. I can’t get why this phone was even allowed into the market place.

4. The camera that comes with this phone is not built in, it’s an attachment. You insert this camera into the bottom of the phone similarly to how you insert the charger. The charger has a little male end that slips into the bottom of the phone and has a catch-release button to remove from the phone. The camera does not have this button and must be torn violently from the phone, causing obvious damage after each use. The camera attachment is about ¼ the size of the phone and seems to be created to be permanently attached…but, then how would someone charge the phone? Morons.

3. Dropped calls. This phone drops a call faster than Keyshawn Johnson (circa 2001). I live in a major metropolitan city and I drop calls in my kitchen. I can walk from one end of the warehouse that I work in to the other and drop service three times. I can stand in one place and drop a call.

2. This one almost made number one. The voicemail system. Ok, this phone has a message feature with several different selections. You can, supposedly send text messages, receive pages, and receive voicemail. Under the “messages” menu, there is a listing next to each feature for the number of messages yet to read and those that have been read…which looks like this:
Message inbox: 1 / 8.
This would mean I have one message to read and 8 that I’ve read. The voicemail has read:
“Voicemail 0” for the last two years.
Why? Because this phone doesn’t use the Voicemail line to let me know I have voicemail…Nope…this service sends me a text message to notify me that I have a voicemail. Every time. Just like the “missed call” feature, I’ve got to go through 6 keystrokes on a PHONE, to clear a TEXT message that tells me I have a VOICEmail. I spend more time punching buttons on this device each day than I have writing this article.

1. I can’t get a new phone or service. My company pays for this piece of shit. I’ve begged, I’ve pleaded, I’ve threatened to run this over with a forklift and chuck it into the retention pond 40 yards from our building and they still won’t get a new service. I’m stuck with this device like luggage and herpes.

As a side note, because of my plight I feel no remorse what so ever in running up the minutes talking to friends across the country and installing inappropriate ring-tones. (Ice, Ice Baby; Theme from the Austin Powers movies; Don’t Worry-Be Happy; Pirates Life for Me from the Pirates of the Caribbean Ride at Disney.)

Friday, September 23, 2005

A Rose by any other name...

Lame, overused title...but:

ref●u●gee \,fer-yoo-‘jē\ n: 1. one that flees 2. one who flees to a foreign country or power to escape danger or persecution.

evac●u●ee \,ē-vak-yoo-‘wē\ n: an evacuated person.

Tell me what the difference is between these two words and the people in New Orleans, Mississippi, and Alabama. Both apply. Especially in the case of New Orleans. You had two types of people: people who got the fuck up out of Dodge and those who stayed behind and had to be carried out.

“We don’t like to be called ‘refugee’, because it’s derogatory.”

Why? What makes ‘refugee’ a derogatory word? You ran from a mother-fucker of a storm that donkey-punched your city. You fled from danger. It wasn’t political, but you still fled.

I think “refugee” should be used in this case because it sounds much more serious than “evacuee.” People should be looking at this as a demoralizing situation that never should have happened in this country. Calling these people “evacuees” makes it sound like they were ferried around on the backs of fire trucks for a couple of blocks, instead of stuck in the Sauna-dome and on roof-tops for a week.

You know why these people don’t want to be labeled as “refugees”? Because white middle and upper class reporters called them that. So, naturally, when whitey calls a group of more than 3 blacks a name, it’s derogatory.

“But Kyu, some of these evacuees were white.”

Yeah, and how many of them bitched about it?

I’m sorry you lived in a pool. I’m sorry that you were poor. I’m sorry you lived in an area with no jobs. I’m sorry that you spent your government check on smokes and liquor and couldn’t afford to buy a bus ticket for you and your twelve kids. I’m sorry that none of your neighbors, who did get out, offered you a ride. I’m sorry that your elected officials sat on their hands for the last few decades.

Here’s some derogatory words that applied to a lot of the people who still complain about the word ‘refugee’:

Apathetic, larcenous, egocentric, sadistic, ignorant, rapacious, mobbish, treacherous, miotic, self-serving, non-genuine, drivellers, society-leach, pedophilic, separatistic, rapists.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Abu Ghraib AV Club: Canceled

Here’s a story that’s getting buried under a Hurricane:

Remember Lynndie England? She’s the little troll faced dog trainer from the party pictures at the Abu Ghraib prison. She’s currently going through her court martial hearings. Her sausage slinging “ex”boyfriend who was tapped as being the master mind behind the festivities testified against her today.

Here’s a little nugget that he dropped during the trial:

“The prisoner was not injured, so I believe I did nothing wrong.”

He had them stacked in a naked pyramid, dog collared, and forced to masturbate all while he, his buddies, and fuck hole took pictures. Now this may sound like boys camp at St. Francis of the Talking Horse, but no this was a prison full of alleged terrorists and Koran touting martyrs. (Hard to take a side here.)

Here’s what he did wrong: HE TOOK FUCKING PICTURES!

Every sick-perv who’s worth his weight in black jelly dongs knows that you never EVER take picures. If you absolutely must take a photo to remember your romantic evening, never stand IN the picture…it’s all about the scenery and the subject matter.

Never talk about it...never write about it...and never, ever take pictures of it. You always get caught.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Next you’ll tell me that Richard Hatch is Gay.

Kate Moss admits that she uses cocaine. Oooh, big surprise. Lose the make-up and the $100,000 dress, throw on some torn stockings and she’ll look like most crack whores. Scrawny and in need of a fix.

Here’s the kicker: her employer, the Hennes & Mauritz clothing chain, “disapproves” of this type of behavior, so Moss said she was sorry and that she wouldn’t do it again. Well, sort of. She claims that she’ll abide by the company’s policy to be “healthy, wholesome and sound”.

She better start eating some Double Quarter Pounders™.

Yeah, I made that same promise to my Mom when she found me smoking weed in the garage. (Sitting in a lawn chair, sucking smoke from a bong made from a two liter, aluminum foil, and a ¼ inch socket…yeah, not a good image.) That didn’t stop me from eating brownies.

I give her two months and she’ll be back to snort’n lines off of Billy Zane’s cock.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Parents who hate their children, Vol. 1

Have you ever heard someone’s name and immediately think that their parents must have hated them? This column is dedicated to those select people in our world whose parents wished they died from SIDS.

Our first installment is a gentleman whose current claim to fame is to be violently hated by most of Texas. (I’m not a Texan, but my guess is that anyone who bashes a Texan instantly becomes hated by half that state…the other half speaks Spanish.) He is the chairman of the World Anti-Doping Agency. This organization has been allegedly attempting to defame the One Nutted Texan who has won the largest bicycle race in the world a record seven times. Apparently, no one outside of America believes that an American can actually be a successful athlete without being on drugs…thanks Barry.

The man is named Richard W. Pound. Dick Pound.
Dick Pound hails from Quebec, and while they do speak French in Quebec, the humor in his name could not be lost on his classmates. Can you imagine growing up named Dick Pound? Morning Roll Call would sound like this…

Teacher: “Palermo…Donny?”

Donny: “Here”

Teacher: “Pound…Dick”

Class: laughter

This guy’s school life must have been sheer hell. Think of all the jokes. It boggles the mind. (Dick Pounder, Pound of Dick, etc.)

It’s probably a wonder to most of his high school that he didn’t throw himself in front of a runaway Zamboni or something.

Old Dick is a former Olympian who competed in the 100m freestyle. So that would make him a Wet Dick Pound.

Ahhhh…the poor bastard. Sure, he’s rich, successful, and moderately powerful, but he’s still a Dick Pound.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Another part of American Culture, STOLEN!

Ok Americans, once again one of our national past times is being assaulted by foreign nationals. A past time that we invented is being misused and a record is held by a Sri Lankan – Canadian…or is it a Canadian –Sri Lankan. Whatever, he probably plays Hockey

That’s right, Suresh Joachim, a Canadian originally from Sri Lanka, now holds the world record for watching T.V. at 69 hours, 48 minutes.

The Hot Dog eating contest wasn’t enough. No! Now their targeting us at our very CORE!

Admittedly, this guy definitely had an edge. I mean, have you ever watched Canadian television? Hockey and news. Sri Lankan television? Please. Not one I Love Lucy or Law & Order re-run. You savages call that entertainment!?! Suresh comes to America and he can’t help but watch T.V. for 3 days straight.

But, c’mon…I know there’s an American who can beat this record. We’ve got 900 channels and TiVO. We’ve got channels dedicated to 24 hours worth of cartoons and porn. Hell, I’ve been training for this event most of my life! All Americans have!

I challenge you unemployed X-Gen’rs. You can do it! Make your country proud.

You lost what???

The AP reports that the Public Health Research Institute on the campus of the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey LOST three mice that carry the bubonic plague. This group apparently studies bioterrorism for the Feds. What they don’t research is inventory management.

Now they’re playing it off like it’s no big deal. Don’t worry, America, go back to sleep. Three sick as fuck mice are missing…but don’t miss an episode of Gilmore Girls or the O.C. over it we’ve got it “under control”.

State Commish Freddie “Black Death” Jacobs says, “Faggedaboutit, dooz freek’n mouses gotta be axed by now.”

Yeah, he says that because the Dentists have been missing the mice for quite sometime and no one would have known if the Feds weren’t already investigating the school for finance corruption.

You know, I really want to continue to freak out on the mice, but something is nagging at me more. It’s the fact that this school feels the need to separate Dentistry from Medicine.

How is dentistry not considered part of the medical profession? If you take out all the medieval torture devices, smoking hot dental technicians, and the occasional anesthestical rape…it’s still got a doctor who administers medical attention to a specific part of your body and give prescriptions for some kick-ass pain killers. (Fake a toothache, get some vicoden…it really works.)

Then my two minute attention span focuses on the fact that they’re studying bioterrorism next to root canals. Oh…you’re right…that does make more sense.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Just for Men...Proud Sponsor of the NFL

Thank God, it’s football season again. Football is the only sport that I can stomach watching. It does, however have it’s drawbacks. (Like I wasn’t going to bitch about something.)

So, the NFL decides to have a kick-off party and invite “today’s” top recording artists. Who starts it off? The Rolling Stones. I love the ‘Stones…but, holy shit they are getting old. I mean like Great Grandpa just sit on his balls old. It was a spectacle to behold.

Mick Jagger looked great, for a 900 year old. He puts the “rock” in rocking chair. I was sitting in front of my TV, watching old Mick prance around stage waving his flabby arms, thinking…he’s going to die right here. This old guy is going to fall over and die on National TV.

Then I spotted Keith Richards and the “other” guitarist. (Yeah, no one remembers his name, he’s just the “other guitarist in the Rolling Stones with the big nose.) Keith is tore up from the floor up…there’s just no other way to say it.

These guys are Legends of Rock ‘N Roll…there’s no doubt…but, c’mon Mick…put the mic down. There ain’t nothing sexy about Father Time sticking the microphone in his leather pants.

AND QUIT DYING YOUR FUCKING HAIR. Who the hell do you think you’re kidding? The only guy in the ‘Stones, who’s not delusional is the drummer…senile, maybe…but he can still keep time and he let his hair go grey.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Vigilant-astic

Do what you will with this one…

The AP put out a story about a guy, Michael Anthony Mullen, in Washington State that confessed to killing two convicted child molesters. Read about it here.

There are two things I want to point out about this story that the AP didn’t follow-up on or just didn’t give a shit.

These two sex offenders were roommates.
These two sex offenders were roommates with a third fuck-tard who unfortunately left before his fuck-buddies were offed.

This is why the left is destroying our society. Three…THREE sex offenders…and I’m not talking about three guys who stick lamp-posts up their asses for kicks, these are the jack-pipes that cruise playgrounds and play slap and tickle while watching Barney…lived together.

We need to ask ourselves how is it that these three individuals were allowed to live together? What were they planning? (Don’t give me any shit about them not planning something…three rapists living together, do the math, eventually something bad was going to happen.) How were they able to find each other? (I retract that, they were obviously easy to find.)

I’ll tell you why these scum-bunnies were together: because the radical Left have cut off the balls of Justice. These three should never have been allowed to leave prison. You rape a child, you give up your life, rot in prison…sentenced to life getting raped. That’s exactly what they deserved, but because of the touchy-feely fucks that want us to believe that “it wasn’t their fault, it was their upbringing/culture/addiction/other excuse.”

Bullshit.

Everyone has a choice.

Another question not asked: Why did Michael do it? What was his motivation? The AP isn’t going after that one. You know why? Because they’re afraid more people will use sites like this to track down these molesters and do the same thing.

Responsible journalism…yeah, right.

I’m not condoning being a vigilante. My big gripe is that because of all the garbage that happens in our courts, men like Michael Mullen are compelled to go out and deal out a little justice. Justice should have been served long before Michael went searching. Justice should have prevented these three rectal sores from ever seeing the outside of a cage…let alone living together.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

FISH!

I’m not going to make any friends with this one.

I am so fucking sick and tired of hearing about how down trodden Blacks are in America; of how there aren’t any opportunities. “A black man just can’t get ahead in this world.” That’s fucking bullshit.

This isn’t 1962. This isn’t even close to 1982. There are so many opportunities out there it’s ridiculous. But, you see, here’s the thing…you’ve got to WORK for it.

GASP!

Yeah…I said WORK. If one more person spouts off that rhetoric about how a white man makes more than a black man junk, I may throw my self under a bus. Yes…I’m white. Yes…I make more than most of the black men that work for my company.

“There, you see…white man makes more than a black man.”

Yeah, I’ve also been with the company for 7 years AND I actually show some willingness to accept responsibility.

Here’s a perfect example for why I’m a cynic:

It took me 3 years to get to the position I have now in the company. I started as an entry level warehouse worker. I’ve done every shit job in that warehouse and I know what it takes to get it done. Now, I’m a project manager.

There are several key positions out in the warehouse that have seen some turn-over: Receiving Supervisor, Parcel Shipping Lead, and Quality Control. Each time these positions become available, the company attempts to promote from within. We’re not a union shop (don’t get me started on that bullshit institution), but we do go through the steps of offering the position to those with seniority first.

In the last 5 years, these positions have been open 3 times, not simultaneously…so that’s 9 opportunities for advancement in five years. In regards to seniority, each time these positions have been available, the first three to 5 candidates were all black. Every single time.

Out of 9 opportunities, only twice…TWICE…did a Black man step up to accept higher responsibilities. Every one of those guys had the traits to be a leader, and they passed on it. Even if they didn’t have ANY managerial experience, the company was willing to send them to leadership courses…COLLEGE CREDIT COURSES…and they pussied out.

It’s a God damn disgrace.
“But Kyu, that’s not enough time to come up with an argument like this. You can’t pass judgment on only 5 years worth of data.”

The fuck I can’t…this is my blog…go fuck yourself lefty.

Don’t misconstrue my argument, here. I’m not saying that all black people are self-absorbed, non-motivated, irresponsible sloths. Nope…that ain’t it. That behavior has got NOTHING to do with race….every race has got a bus load of mouth-breathing fuck-tards that need to be driven over a cliff to save the rest of us. My point is that there ARE lots of opportunities out there…and no one is taking them…yet they’re blaming me for being a White guy with a higher paying job.

You can give a man a fish…
You can teach a man to fish…
You can even teach a man how to teach others to fish…

But don’t persecute the teacher for having fish, when the student chose NOT to fish.

Friday, September 02, 2005

The beginning...

Look, I get pissed off daily at the world around me. I'm going to sound off here. I'll mispell words, type in run on sentences, forget punctuation, put, puncuation in the wrong space, and probably use really big words incoherently. I'll save to you trouble of correcting me...I don't care.

Feel my pain.