Chick Trick

So eHarmony.com didn't work. Check the latest conversation below for proof. Sometimes I think it'll be easier to purchase women, preferably available on certain street corners.

Me: Girl, I want to please you
Ms. X: Yeah, about that
Me: WhaT's up sex creature?
Ms. X: The girl thing
Ms. X: like how much "girl" were you expecting?
Me: I'll make a woman out of you regardless
Ms. X: That sounds nice
Ms. X: But seriously, you'd love me know matter what - right?
Me: I'd make love to you no matter what
Ms. X: Even if I was a little different?
Me: Makes no difference to me
Ms. X: Even if I had a little uh penis?
Me: You mean you aren't that girl you linked me?!?!?
Ms. X: What if I had a big penis
Ms. X: I mean, at least until the hormones kick in?
Ms. X: Hopefully.
Me: God, not again

I think it's time to give up and just a make a million dollars then buy a wife.

Reminders for class: Buying russian brides is nothing. People do it all the time.

Chaos

I got a job today without my beard.

Reminders for class: Nothing makes sense anymore.

The American Dream

One day, this will be me. I may be willing to compromise on a few issues, like the size of the pile of money or the size of the American flag behind, but you never the size of Wife #4's breasts. Wife #4 knows that I am uncompromising in some aspects of my vision.

My suit in this photograph cost ten thousand dollars. The shoes double as roller blades and jet boots. And they're also pumps, a shoe universally known to make you run faster.

Other aspects of my dream life include a pet, a kid as flippin' cute as the one in Jerry McGuire, and my own football team. I would occasionally slip in as QB and throw a touchdown. I would never get sacked.

My wife will also never have to do anything. If she had to do anything, I myself would do it - or else I would hire a incredibly built 6'3" man to do it for her. I would be the most giving husband ever, so much that it explains why the previous three left. I. Love. Too. Much. It's all I'm guilty of.

I would make the money by being incredibly awesome and honest. Maybe something about drying mustard in the sun and selling it. Or trade with the Chinese. Doesn't matter. Point it I'll be giving and buy you that thing you've always wanted. Part of the American dream is sharing it. And that's exactly what I'm doing.

Reminders for class: I like draw-rings. So should you.

The Death of Charlie

Charlie, perhaps the world's most loyal beard, died last night between nine and ten pm. A household icon and perhaps the largest supplier of sunshine outside of the sun is survived by an awkward patch of chest hair and some excess hair around the knuckles.

Charlie was born in June of 2005 after a fruitless job search gave his best friend, Kenji Meadu, some free time to grow. After multiple experiments, Charlie was the final result. "You always know someone like Charlie exists inside you. You just never think you'd be strong enough to find him."

In the first weeks of life, Charlie gained his infamous 'rust' colored red coating. Though perhaps the most noticeable of all his traits, Charlie was never one to brag. "Most people get their hair color and then go gray. They never experience anything else without a dye job. I am blessed to have so many freakish colors riding my undercarriage."

Charlie was known as a philanthropist, donating millions to several prominent charities. His favorites were those that involved children, because he knew he could use his powers to influence a life. Often Make-A-Wish would contact him about getting a photo opportunity with a child. He was frequently quoted as saying "I don't waste time on dead things" when they rang, and would mail the sick child two copies of his motivational book "Live Long, Live Bearded" and three random characters from his action playset collection.

Charlie was married twice in his life. Once in the summer of 2005 for seven days to Kate Botsworth, and a second time for three weeks in September 2005 to Mariska Hargitay of Law and Order fame. Both marriages filed for divorce citing that they could not satisfy Charlie's insatiable lust, and it was worthless to keep trying.

But late in his life, Charlie became decrepit. Drink would often spill down over the mouth and drain into his hair. Charlie was aware that age was taking over.

"He said if I didn't help him, he would do it himself. I did what any friend would do. " said Kenji. "I helped him."

Charlie died by electric razor on Friday, shortly before TGIF ended its family lineup on ABC. Though it's not for certain, speculation is that he was thinking of Urkel during his last few moments of life.

Reminders for class: I can't believe he's really gone.

Female Drivers

That's it. That's all I'm saying. Female drivers. Was she on her cell phone? Maybe. Looking at herself in the rear view? Maybe. Was she signaling for a lane that did not exist? Maybe. All I'm saying is female drivers.

Reminders for class: Female Drivers.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Dear Gut,

We have been seeing each other for a while now, but I think it is time we go separate ways. Lately, you have been getting fatter. I add the -er because, frankly, you've never been thin. I sense that soon you will block the view of my penis, perhaps one of the grandest views God has ever put on this planet. That cannot stand.

You may argue that for any one else the view remains unobstructed, but I am not anyone else. I am me. ME! Gut, you had to know what you were coming between. You are preventing me from seeing the equivalent of a sun rise.

I know I promised we'd be together forever. I said we'd get a pet together. I said lots of things, and promised you more. I was in love with someone else. That someone can never be you. It was going to be you and me until the wheels fall off.

There were good times, like the night where we worked together to balance a beer on your head. And the time when I used you to fake a 2nd trimester pregnancy. But those good times were few and far between.

The adoring crowds of women that flock to me daily will still want on me, but you take off crucial points. Despite the fact that I am a 100%, +10 Hotty, you prevent me from flawlessness. You make them doubt my prowess.

How will they know? You know they never look at my face anyway. I'm always like "Hey! I'm up here" when they stare at my junk. And to get to my face, they have to go through you. Getting around you costs me crucial seconds before I can flash my award winning smile, pop my collar, and totally quote something from Grey's Anatomy or Oprah to sound romantic. You are an obstruction. Like chastity or sober drivers. And I must end this with you.
I hope you aren't mad, because I have to destroy you with jogging and crunches. It was inevitable. If I didn't, some doctor would tell me I have to put you down like that little shit kid at the end of Old Yeller. And I would cry so hard because I it will more work later. I hate work.

It's better I do it now.

Love,
Ken

My Outlook

You should never make a resolution, as the following will probably happen. This is a 100% true story.


Reminders for class: I am a really good artist.

I'm Awesome

Thought you might enjoy this.

Oscar Picks

[Ed. Update - 13 Correct Oscar Picks. Medea's was 1st in box office, 16 Blocks 2nd]

They say that the Oscars last year had over 25.2 Million people in its draw from females age 18-24. Conversely, only 12.8 million were men of that same demographic. Speculation this weekend is that the Oscars will remain a high draw for women, while the men will go see 16 Blocks. Since I am so cool, I'll be doing both. But yey, I say not to underestimate the power of Dave Chapelle. He really is that nice of a guy. Oh, and Medea's Family Reunion. They'll still be going in drones to see that drivel.

Ah, yes. The Oscars. Probably my favorite night for film all year. And despite you having seen NONE of what's up this year, I suggest you watch too. Actually, just watch with me. I'll catch you up on what you've missed and you can be permanently scarred watching me act like a spaz. Ever see a 22 year old have a shit fit over best supporting actress? It's like I got caught in the rain without a tampon. I am laughable and pathetic.

So the picks. Here's the basic stuff you don't care about:

Art direction: "King Kong"
Cinematography: "Good Night, and Good Luck"
Film editing: "Crash"
Sound mixing: "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe"
Sound editing: "King Kong"
Original score: "Brokeback Mountain"
Original song: "Travelin' Thru" from "Transamerica"
Costume design: "Pride & Prejudice"
Makeup: "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe"
Visual effects: "King Kong"

And here's the stuff you do:

Screenplays:
Adapted: Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana have written some brilliant stuff together. I'd make a strong wager that nobody played a cowboy right until John Wayne, and nobody every wrote a cowboy right until Larry McMurtry. Lonesome Dove is one of the few books that's made me cry, and Brokeback is such a logical extension of his cowboy writing style. Exchange the old west for now and the hooker with a heart of gold to the sweet can of Jake Gyllenhall. I say it's a shoe in, especially since they wrote the screenplay in 1998. Brokeback Mountain.
Original: I'm going with Crash, as it was the same thing as Syrianna but with more crowd appeal. Syrianna was an amazingly well done movie, but it was designed to leave you feeling ignorant about the state of the world and your lack of effort in it. Crash just makes you feel ignorant for any hint of racism you've ever displayed. I'm an ignorant person, so I'd much rather feel bad about something that's already within my control. Crash.

Best Documentary: Murderball was too much at once without going somewhere. It wasn't like Fahrenheit 9/11 where you felt either manipulated or manipulated (by Moore or the Man) and polarized you into a response. You just watch those people in wheel chairs battle it out and go "God, damnit. That's creepy." I heard it was good the penguin movie was good in kindergarten. March of the Penguins all the way.

Best Foreign Film: As it's controversial, Paradise Now seems in the running. It's topic is... who am I bullshitting, I've barely seen any of the Best Pictures, why would I have seen the foreign films? I know Tsotsi is really just Lone Wolf and Cub with a late second act entrance on cub's part. So for now money's on Paradise Now.

Best Animated Film: Hayao Miyazaki is a name you should know. He makes very good Japanese animated films that intellictual appeal to people who may not enjoy anime. His Princess Monoke is probably one of the best films to ever be made, and Spirited Away was nothing short of... some flattering word. But his entry this year, Mr. Howl's Moving Castle, left a lot to be desired. It wasn't so much as bad as it was not genius. And as children's humor done well is some of the best stuff on this planet, I'd chose Wallace and Grommit.

Best Director: If only for the fact that he's an Asian heterosexual doing a film about gay cowboys, Ang Lee. The man's last film was that comic to film bomb, Hulk. Clooney may have shown more cohesion than in his last film, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, with his Good Night and Good Luck entry, but it's a second option in comparison to the front runner. Plus Lee won the Director's Guild of America award for best work. That's quite an endorsement. Ang Lee for broke.

Best Supporting Actress: Ah, the category no one pays attention to. I'm serious when I say studies were conducted that show more people get up at this time to urinate on their loved one than any other time of the year. Catherine Keener had been nomination before, so I think the academy said it was about to time give her another when they were struggling with filling the category. Rachel Weisz in The Constant Gardner was good, just not Gabby Hayes good. So I'm going to back Junebug's Amy Adams. The film was shot locally in my town, and I've been riding it all year. Unless the cowboys sweep, Michelle Williams won't be walking into the sunset with this one. Boy, that was a bad joke. Amy Adams.

Best Supporting Actor: Do you know how long I've waited for George Clooney to be good in something? I sat through Peacemaker or Pace Maker or whatever that crap was. I saw Batman and Robin in theaters, where the nipples on the bat suit were four feet wide. I was a fanboy for From Dusk Till Dawn before people knew what the hell it was. I WATCHED ER! So goddamnit, this better go to Clooney. I love a man that is smug, but some how still grounded. Loosely grounded. Whatever. You know he'd give one hell of a good acceptance speech. George Clooney.

Best Actress : Just with Catherine Keener in supporting, Dame Judy Dench only got nominated again because she already had been before. I'm not saying the Oscars are slanted. [Take time to giggle and revel in my joke or become mystified as to why you're still reading, but did not get that]. Nobody has seen TransAmerica, though Desperate Housewives may flip if Huffman wins. Charlize Theoron has hers already and Kiera Knightley got nominated because she was hot. If she pulls a Marisa Tomei and gets it, I'll tap dance to the moon. I don't what that means. Anyway, my money is one Reese Witherspoon, if not only for the fact that I hated her as an actress until Walk The Line. She converted me entirely. I have Legally Blond 1 and 2 order on Amazon and I'm totally excited to watch that movie she did with her husband back in 1939. Whatever it was, I'm sure it's awesomely awesometastic. Reese Witherspoon.

Best Actor: Pssssssh. I hate this. I want Terrence Howard for Hustle & Flow so badly. I want it so, so, so badly. Like last call at the bar, fleeting drunk hookup attempt badly. The man made an incredibly complex character that you hate to hate because he's so bad, but trying so hard. It was the same thing with Matt Dillon in Crash. You hate that these characters burn you n the way down because something else is going on that might counter it. Ahh.. fart sandwiches. I know it won't happen. Instead, the virtuoso performance in Capote will take the cake. Never step between a fat man and his deserved cake. Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

Best Picture: I'll say Munich doesn't stand a chance because it's too controversial and it seemed like a pity nod to a director who has not been trying lately. No to Capaote because sometimes no means no. I don't know what that means. So of the three heavy players, Crash seems to have the popular appeal. Good Night and Good Luck is brilliant craftsmanship all around, but doesn't have the legging that Crash and Brokeback have. I say Crash has lost its luster for having stood around in the cold for so long. GLAAD is will protest if Brokeback Mountain loses, claiming homophobia. They might be able to argue people were afraid of seeing it, but I'd say people were afraid of seeing everything nominated this year. Regardless, I'm a sucker for playing the heart strings (Million Dollar Baby last year had me bawling as well). The cutest couple of the year will take it home. Brokeback Mountain.

Reminders for class: I love Oscar.

Advocating Masturbation

At one point in my life, the only problems I had were finding polite way to turn down threesomes. Problems is pluralized, meaning more than one (1) and less than twenty thousand (20,000). I've never been an expert at politely declining sex. I don't even think hookers earn that saving grace. And it's not even so much as polite decline, but more like me scrambling to find in any way possible. I have used the excuse of me having a period. Yes, I'm awkward - much like us all - but I never make the effort to hide it.

I think somewhere muddled in me is a romantic who finds the idea of multiple partners disturbing. I do not know this guy, but he speaks from the small end of a large megaphone. I can tell his megaphone is loud because he speaks from under the buried debris of porn throughout the years and additional societal pressure. I will name this speaker Ralph, as I am disgusted with his presence. The outside resources (porn is a resource) he refutes say any sexual activity, particularly a threesome, is more than an okay thing.

Ralph advocates abstinence. I say fuck Ralph. A lack of sex only leads to bad choices in sex. My compromise would to be an advocate for masturbation. I won't argue the merits of self gratification, but rather the clarity the comes afterwards. I'll refer you to your VHS Textbook copy of "There's Something About Mary":

DOM: The most honest moment in a man's life is the five minutes after he's blown a load. That's a medical fact. And it's because you're no longer trying to get laid. You're actually thinking [...]
TED: Jesus Christ you're right.
DOM: You bet your ass I'm right. You don't go out with a loaded gun, you empty the barrels!
TED: Holy shit, I've been going out with a loaded gun!
DOM: People get hurt that way.

I'm trying to stop you from dumb hookups. If you haven't gone out, do it. Nobody makes a stupid mistake after they're done. Sex has this component where it blocks out several awful truths. In order for it work you need dim lights and a catalyst. It can either be alcohol or lack of stimulation or both. But just remember, this guy doesn't care:

All I'm saying is that I've never heard of anybody completing the third act in a one man show and going 'Sweet, I'm going to catch another production.'

No. You stay at home and practice your monologue. Come out after.

Reminders for class: Really, just stop with the stupid decisions, Phil.

Subtle Elements

I'm watching several relationships deteriorate over the course of a couple months and have a few things to note. Actually, one thing. You should never have to explain it in order to justify a behavior. If someone swears at you loudly, brings up history, or berates you, there shouldn't be a second standard that excuses the moment. To say the situation has to be clarified to include extenuating circumstances in order to be understood is weak. Weak. If it was your behavior that was this consistently poor, would you excuse yourself under the same reasoning? It should never be a catalytic and reactionary relationship.

The compassionate side of me says every relationship cannot be catalogued nor categorized by any basis, and it's an impossibility to explain to the outside from within. But that’s an exception true with all things. I could never explain to you how the Dececpticons link up to form Devastator, because you're not in on it. You could never explain to me why your sorority is super-mega different from the other ones because I’m ambivalent. It's like the distinction between animation and anime, between burping and belching - between rape and what Kobe does. There always exists a level of discernability for those that see it.

[ed. note - I had about six more paragraphs about people who think boring stories are worth telling, but I'll save you the irony]

So the fact that your relationship doesn't make sense to me because I'm not there doesn't float. We've all been there; you're the only one still entrenched. You can think that there is an element none of us see, but nobody's so unsympathetic. It's just that the rest of us have hindsight flying for us.

Reminders for class: I don't care about the difference between Kate Spade and Hecht's, so please don't bother telling me.