Sunday, May 30, 2010

Blogs?

Blogs... What are we really doing with these oddly named entities? Sure there are all kinds of themed blogs which have very particular purpose: you have movie blogs and music blogs; even gossip blogs. But are all the blogs themed? Do they all have such narrow focus? I struggle to find real focus with my own blog. So what am I, or anyone else for that matter, trying to accomplish with a public blog?

I've used the excuse; I am using this blog as a forum for my writing. It is a way to keep me writing and make me accountable for what I say, because it's public. Is that really what I'm doing? Well there is only one piece of fiction on this blog (which no one has bothered to comment on). The rest of the blog is fairly auto biographical. Not to say I never embellish the stories or add colorful adjectives to make then funnier. So the question then becomes, as long as I am writing, even nonfiction, it counts as writing, right?

Perhaps I want to give some incite into my fascinating life, for those not fortunate enough to be highly involved. Then again, I don't think I'm that interesting in the first place. I certainly don't want to read about myself all the time. It's funny because a famous person can write the same bullshit kind of stuff I write and get tons of people to read it. I should just get famous, like it's hard or something.

It's not that I'm just desperate for attention. We all on some level or another everyone enjoys attention, but I'm not actively seeking more and more of it. Or am I? Maybe that's what a blog is really all about. Attention. In writing this blog, am I seeking the attention and approval of others, if only subconsciously? That seems like the likely case. If I were really just writing for myself I'd put all this in my poor neglected journal I scribble in every now and then. But my ego must have gotten the better of me to start putting this nonsensical writing in to public domain. Like anyone wants to read about my car trouble...

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Holeless Pillow

It's rare to find that one person in life who can make your day better in one sentence.

Oh, the suck I have endured. I bitch a lot about the wife's car, so I'll only say, it still sucks. Hard. We've spent money and time on it, we are frustrated. Things are out of hand. The house is a mess. Clothes, they aren't washed. We had to use the remainder of the Disney Princess paper plates from her birthday party to eat dinner. We have no food at the house; none. We DO have a giant tower of pizza boxes.

The truck I am using to drive while her car is being worked on? Its breaks went out on me today! THE BREAKS WENT OUT! You realize I was driving when this happened? WTF!!???!!? I could have seriously wrecked. I am not making this up.

My wife has been driving my car that she is too short for. She has to use a pillow under her and behind her to see and reach the pedals at the same time. One of the pillows is also a pillow we use in the house. We are short on pillows? Are we poor or some shit? She picked me up and drove me home, then we went out for dinner because of the no food thing. Downtrodden. I probably have to mow the grass soon, I hate that. Our mailbox is falling down. I stepped in dog shit while taking the dog out, to shit. Am I trying to find everything wrong with the world?

Tomorrow I have to catch a ride with a co-worker to work. First she has to pick me up, then drop her kids at school. I am riding the school bus to work? The next day, also bumming a ride. Hobo Dan anyone? I have no idea how I'm getting to work Saturday. All of this and more are on and in my mind. God why, oh why.

We get back from Subway. I open the door to the car and step out. The wife stops me and says:

"Get my pillow out, the one WITHOUT the hole in it."

I cannot stop laughing. If you don't get it, I guess you just had to be there.

Monday, May 24, 2010

A Loss for Words

I'm sitting here, on my shaky chair, attempting to assemble a thought. Just one. This damned chair wobbles so much; I want to smash it. That's why we can't have nice things. There is a precious moments candle on the table. You know, the kind with those creepy ass kids giving you the stink eye. A wedding gift I think, the wife says "It smells like ass"; so we have never burnt it. It just sits there, looking at me with its future serial killers of America on it. We had a precious moments cake topper for our wedding by the way, that wasn't so creepy; but this candle is making me paranoid.

I have off tomorrow what should I do? Well shit kids that's a rhetorical question. Tomorrow I have to take my wife's taint of a car to Huntington to the dealership to get worked on because the little POS still won't run. If the TV I bought last Christmas needed as much maintenance as the cars we own, I would not stand for it. Did you ever think of that? Break it down, most of the stuff we buy needs much less maintenance than our cars. Hell, I guarantee my wife and I use our TV more hours a day than our cars. I'm sorry I don't have to change the oil in my TV, or check the fucking tire pressure! Car companies are you listening? no...

Sorry about that, Hobo Dan came out for a second and typed some angry shit. He's an angry Hobo sometimes. I'll explain him to you someday; not now. Well, precious moments have just about finished eye raping me for now. Remember everyone, only you can prevent terrible wedding gifts like this damned candle.

Friday, May 14, 2010

The Bad Friday

There are no words. Even as I try to conjugate them, they will be nothing more than simple words. Words. WORDS!

This rather short antidote is best understood when preface by earlier events. If you are a regular follower of this fine blog, then certainly you read about The Mouse. You see, I wrote that harrowing tale all too soon. A great many events followed it. To my disdain, the car which that clever little rodent chose to inhabit broke down only days after his arrival. It just stopped. Well as you can imagine, upon hearing this news, my lovely, caring, compassionate and all knowing wife made her expert opinion be known. That little vermin must have been the reason for the car's sudden reluctance to start. I reassured her this was probably not the case. For a week the car was in the shop. The verdict? A blown fuse going into the starter, probably blown by some sort of short in the wiring. How ever did this short come about? The mechanic suggests that a mouse very well could have caused such damage.

Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it. DAMN IT! No matter what I say or what I do, damn it, she is ALWAYS right!

Now that's out of my system. Friday was just an unimaginably awful day. The guy that coined the saying "Life sucks and then you die." must have had a whole bunch of these kind of days. Friday was suppose to be the first day of a few days of vacation for me. Oh, don't worry, I didn't get called into work. OH, no, I would have gladly went back to work to prevent the following events! So the day started off fine and well. I drove the wife to pick up her car before work, because it was finally done. Great news! Of course when she hears the probable cause of the break down, she never hesitates to let me know how right she was. Maybe she should of been a mechanic! If she, with zero knowledge of cars, was able to solve this break down; perhaps she could be creating the first super clean, super fast car of the future that will save the planet from global warming and in turn Al Gore! Alas we shall never know.

So she drives off to work. I go home to revel in the glory of a day off. Later, I receive a text from the wife letting me know that the car smells of dead mouse. This news brightens the day further. At least it's dead; now I just have to solve that problem. Soon I sit down for some relaxing video games; peace. It's right then, that she calls me. We have just pissing-down-a-hair-clogged-drain bad cell phone service at our house. I cannot believe I was able to hear what she said. "Car won't start. I'm at Krodel park." I'm not even mad. For a moment I just stand there, bent in some funny angle striving for the optimum cell service of one bar. "Sure." That's the best I can manage before leaving to pick her up.

Now would be a good time to progress back in time two hours to lunch. I took my wife to Burger King. We made a short stop at Auto Zone to get some smell killing items to help cleanse the rank of rotting mouse carcass. My wife make some incendiary remark about being from Gallia county Ohio as I exit the car. I didn't really hear it and paid it no mind. When I return to the car, she asks me why I have a huge hole in the arm pit of my shirt. I have no idea. Her off hand comment from before was about how I am properly dressed for Gallia county life, with the hole and all. She failed to stop me from entering the store looking like a complete idiot. Thanks, I love you too.

So back to the broken down mouse coffin. I dropped her off at work and proceed back to the repair shop to spread the tidings and good news. As I park, and set out of the car, the unthinkable happens. The hole in the arm pit of my shirt grabs hold of the door. Before I can stop myself, I am pushing the door shut. As the door rips through the air and my very soul, it rips a LARGE piece of my shirt. The gash reaches across my chest so that my sexy hair covered abs are gleaming in the sun light. Sure. So I walk into the repair shop and notify them of the trouble. They all look at my shirt, but no one asks me about it and I never mention it. It's for the best, I think.

I have no spare shirts. I also don't want to go home and get one. I have to pick the wife up from work. Lucky for me, the repair shop is right next to a dollar general. Now, with a clear mind, free of the stress of the day, I would never walk into this store to buy a $2 shirt dress like that. On this day I would. It was helpful that the credit card reader was working horrendously slow. I spent twenty minutes in line and paying with my gashed shirt on. It was great, especially when I saw a customer I see at work all the time. You know the customer who never sees me in anything but a shirt and tie. She pretended not to know me; I know she recognized me. Back in the car, the shirt is exchanged and that crisis is over. What should I do now.

A hair cut! Yes, I have time to kill before picking up the wife; I'll go to Wal Mart and get a hair cut. Nothing about this could go wrong. Wal Mart is an American institution. It is at the very heart of our being. Wal Mart is the best. End sarcasm. One more thing, the shirt I bought is a kind of athletic polo shirt. Kind of like a golf shirt, but much, much, much, MUCH cheaper in cost and design. As the Wal Mart is over run with the best society has to offer, I am forced to park in the very back of the lot. What next? People, I can't make this shit up. The clouds opened up as I trekked across the parking lot and the rain fell. The rain poured. The sky took a big old piss on me. And what of my new cheap shirt? It became a new, wet and very see through cheap shirt. Everyone knows what happens to nipples in water, so I won't waste your time on that. Drenched, I drag myself into Wal Mart and find the hair place. After a short wait, I am seated and getting a trim. As soon as I sit, I let out a loud sigh. The hair cut lady just gives me a once over look. Maybe it was the outwardly perturbed look on my face, you all know the face I'm talking about. Maybe it was my nipples, glaring her in the face through my shirt. One of those things prompted her to ask...

"Rough day?" I smiled to myself.

"Yeah." There are no words.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Let the Fire Fall

Short story time! This is the first part of a currently unfinished short story. If you like it comment and provide thoughts on where I might be going with it. Hate it? Let me know why, no one ever improved their writing without criticism.

Let the Fire Fall

The once magnificent cityscape had now been reduced to mere rubble. Formerly the centerpiece of high civilization, now lay ruined by war and fear. The monolithic buildings whose heads once peaked into the heavens were now cement skeletons of their former selves. Debris and gore littered the ancient streets where great operas and plays once drew audience. The sky was dark, polluted by smoke and dust; midday seemed like dusk and midnight, death itself. Citizens ran in fear from the city, as soldiers marched, orderly into it. They defended other cities and after this one, more would surely follow.

Sparse machine gun chatter provided beat as a small group of regulars crept through a particularly rubble cluttered street. Each dressed in the standard grey of their military. Only a patch on their left arm could tell regular from officer. They had no officer with them though; he was dead. All of them were covered in dark soot, which masked most of their telling features. They held their rifles at ready and moved cautiously through the shallow valleys of rock and metal. A heavy smoke lingered in the air, which made looking ahead almost impossible. As they moved through the street, the sound of artillery echoed in the distance. A few of the men shuttered, but the rest were far to accustom to the sound to even notice. Without thinking the lead man cocked up his arm and all in the group dropped to he ground, or behind some rubble. The lead man did the same, but occasionally risked a look ahead to where he had been looking. A figure appeared out of the haze, running. The lead man yelled out, and when the answer was satisfactory, all the others came out of hiding to meet this new comer.

But he wasn’t a new comer at all. He was a scout they had sent forward three days before. Their officer had sent him to see what lay ahead, before he died. The man was breathing hard, but took time to swallow a copious amount of water when it was offered. “Those bastards have taken every bridge along the west side.” He began. “The east side doesn’t look much better, but there seems to be more resistance there.” He slowly looked around the group. “Where’s the Cap?”

“They shot him yesterday. Took two others as well.” Said the leader of the group. He looked at the ground. “Let the fire fall.”

“Shit, yeah.” The scout said remorsefully. “So what’s the plan now?” The leader didn’t answer. “Dan? What the hell are we gonna do now!”

“We’re gonna go on with our mission and take the fiftieth street bridge. We’re gonna hold it until backup arrives, then we will wait for new orders. That is what we are going to do!” Dan looked at the scout.

“Are you fucking crazy? There are ten of us now! We can’t hold a bridge against them!” he looked around at their faces. “You guys gonna do just like your told aren’t you?” No one answered. He shook his head. “I’m done with this war, with all of it. I’m done with all of you!” He stood and removed his regular patch. “Here”, he handed it to Dan.

Dan pulled out his handgun and cocked it. “You’re not done.” He said flatly. The scout turned to face him. Dan pulled the trigger and let two rounds fly into the scout’s chest. He walked over to the squirming body and put another shot into his head. Dan turned to the rest of the group.

“Anyone else wanna leave?” Silence. “Then move out! James, take point for a while. Matt, burn the body, we don’t need him coming back.” The red headed boy walked over to the scout’s body. He peered into the scout’s still open eyes and pulled the trigger of his flamethrower. After the burning, they moved on from that spot without looking back.

It began to get dark when Andrew James motioned for them to take cover. Dan, still hovering in back of the group, quickly moved forward to get eyes on the situation. He moved past Matt and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What’s up?” He asked of James.

“Heard gun fire, closer than it has sounded all day. I reckon we’re close enough to the bridge that Scotty may have been right. Seems there might be some resistance up here.”

“We should still move carefully,” Dan looked rather bleak. “I would rather not get into the middle of someone else’s fight.” He looked back at the group and motioned a hearty looking lad forward. “Get up there and have a look. Get back here quickly! Go!” The boy shot forward into the smoky darkness.

“You sent George?” James mocked.

“Yeah.”

“You know he’s slow as hell and just as dumb?”

“Yeah.” Dan continued looking forward to where the gunfire sound was emanating. James looked into his eyes for an answer. “He may be a dumb shit,” Dan said finally “But he’s loyal. He won’t run off on me when given the chance.” James was becoming quite wary of Dan’s leadership abilities, his face showed it. They entrenched themselves there for sometime, waiting on George to return with a report. Some of them ate, some of them smoked, very few slept. As Dan lit a cigarette, a figure stumbled out of the darkness. Dan was so startled by it he burnt his fingers. Cussing under his breath he raised his rifle, the rest of the troop did the same.

George came fumbling out of the darkness. To their horror, he was missing an arm and a chunk of his skull was showing; he was drenched in his own crimson blood. He stopped and looked at them all. Dan stared into his eyes for a moment. “Well?” George nodded his head and fell to the ground, dead. “Burn ‘im!” Dan yelled as he walked past the body. Matt did as he was told. James came up beside Dan.

“What the hell?”

“We move in.” Dan was looking very out of body.

“What? Are you fucking craz—“ Dan had wheeled around to face him, pistol out.

“I am not crazy, I assure you.” James nodded in a hesitant agreement and the group walked on, toward the gunfire.

Night had fallen, but there were some piles of burning rubble to mark their way now, as they came nearer the action. The machinegun chatter increased in volume as they went onward. Dan took lead again, they didn’t stop; they weren’t moving carefully now. They came to an intersection, they should have stopped before crossing, but Dan had them at a full run. A tall member of their party fell to the ground, his head few into the air, then they heard the shot.

The cross fire began.

Ambushed!

“Suppressive fire!” Dan barked “Flair! Flair! Let the wind blow!”

Matt sent up the flair so they could see. They returned fire. James threw a grenade.
BOOM! Rock and dust went everywhere.

“Aahhhh!” another member of their group went down, shrapnel peppering his face. Matt shot up another flair and hurled a second grenade. Only six men remained in their ranks now. Dan and James were shooting viciously; three others were picking targets. After three minutes, the battle was over. For a moment all was silent, then Matt looked about around at the men just as James jumped onto Dan, yelling like a mad man.

“You sick bastard!” He threw a punch. “You knew moving fast was risky! Now two more dead.” They struggled on “Only six of us left! Ahhhhhhhh!” Matt grabbed James and threw him off; two others had a hold of Dan.

“They died for the cause!” Dan yelled wildly. They looked into one another’s eyes for a moment.

“Died for the cause? We go from city to city, trying to fend these bastards off! Does it work? Never, they always win! They can’t be beat, their too powerful, too infecting! Cap knew that.” Then it hit James. “Cap wasn’t shot by them was he?” Matt’s eyes flew to him, then to Dan. “YOU shot him in the back, didn’t you? Right as they attacked!”

“Cap was an ignorant fool.”

“You did! Damn you! Matt, he did didn’t he? You burnt him, where was the wound? In his back I bet!” Matt said nothing; the others weren’t sure what to do.

“You all would be dead now if not for me!” Dan screamed with insanity. Before anything else could be said, they heard a voice. Then more voices. They forgot their yelling and ran for cover. All together they ran toward the bridge once more. Shots rang in their ears. James was hit in the leg and went down. Matt stopped to help him, but Dan took out his pistol and motioned him on. They both looked into James’s eyes one last time and ran into the darkness. Moments later came the most painful scream one could imagine. The five of them ran on, and soon the smoke and dust of the city streets cleared and before them ran a great river, over which set the grandest bridge they had ever seem. The sky was dark with clouds and across the river, the city continued. Great pillars of smoke rose up from the ruined city. Ships flew overhead on bombing runs. One of the men looked out and saw the enemy force, marching over the bridge.
“W-we can’t repel that! They are behind us too. We must flee!”

“NO! WE FIGHT!” The others looked at Dan. “You will fight! Let the glory come down!” Artillery was falling everywhere now, blasting the paved streets into dust. Dan pulled his handgun again and motioned the men to charge. One did not and he was promptly shot in the head. A mortar blast tore into the others. Chaos! Dan and Matt charged on. Then Dan fell to a bullet; he screamed something about being free. Matt stopped to look back at him. For a moment time stood still, Matt had no intentions of helping him. Bullets were flying everywhere. Another mortar fell from the sky. It landed right on Dan in a blast of flesh and pavement. There was no time to think. Alone, surrounded. A third mortar threw Matt from the bridge and into the ice cold water below. He thought of home, of his brother, of undeath.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Iron Man 2

I'm sitting here, listening to the rain and thunder outside, trying to compose thoughts on Iron Man 2. It's actually more difficult than I thought it would be. On one hand it's a kick you in the taint awesome action movie. On the other hand it is a set up for the eventual Avengers movie and in doing so it had a lot going on. For me, it wasn't hard to follow at all. I know all the characters, the references, etc. But for the average movie goer, unschooled in the ways of Marvel, I can see it being confusing and cluttered. Obviously I am going to spoil the movie a bit so be warned.

Lets start with the facts, Robert Downy Jr is excellent. But for a American actor who can convincingly portray an Australian actor, portraying an African American, portraying a Vietnam vet, how hard can being Tony Stark be? He is capable of being arrogant and foolish, while maintaining an understated understanding that he could die very soon because of the very thing keeping him alive. Props there Robert. Micky Rorke was also very good and the main villain. Can anyone help me out, how many lines did he actually speak in english in this movie? It couldn't be very many. Sam Rockwell was solid as ever (if you really want to see him go rent Moon). I generally liked this movie. Great action, better than first in that respect. While the story got weighed down, it still had some flow to it, and I never got bored.

Honestly I'm not going to go into too much depth here because chances are you aren't going to base your decision to see the movie off some random comments I make about (most of the comments I make are random). I feel the use of Tony's father was a very fine touch, giving the character some real depth that is sorely needed in most comic movies. He had all but given up until seeing the secret message for him on his fathers tapes, urging him and inspiring him. By the way, where the hell are the computers he uses in the movie, I WANT ONE NOW! (Looking at you Apple) The real negatives in the movie depend on if you have any clue what the Avengers are. If you do, you probably don't mind Samuel L Jackson being in this movie. Some people like my wife think as long as he's in ANY movie, that movie becomes better. I'm sure however there are those people you don't have a clue why he was in this movie. They also don't know a rat turd about the Avengers. Which leads me again to my quandary...

Are they really going to make an Avenger movie. I know it's slated for release and scripts are being prepared, but I stand in disbelief. With Thor coming next year, and Captain America the year after, 2013 is looking to be the Avengers movie date. Will all the lead actors sign on? Will the script be any good? Will it make a damn bit of sense to anyone who hasn't spent the last ten years in the comic shop? I have serious doubts.

Also stay after the credits for Thor goodies!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The Mouse

Events unfolded this weekend that have shook the foundations of my life. This event has changed the family dynamic in an irriversable way. Everything we have worked so hard for has been shaken to its very core. This is a truly profound tale...

So late Sunday morning the family unit decided we wanted Wendy's chicken nuggets. Okay, that's a lie, we all know my wife doesn't get up before noon on Sunday. So Sunday afternoon, we were sitting on the couch. We look at each other and knew; it's nugget time. So rarly do we agree on food choices this quickly; it was imparitve we embark on our nuggety journey with haste. It was pissing the rain outside. As we happily rolled down the road, not a care in the world, nothing but nuggets on the mind; fate intervened. I was driving, lazily watching the wiper blades go to and fro. My wife sitting beside me suddenly screamed. If I wasn't such an unemotional douche I would have been frightened of the scream myself. It was the kind of scream that makes your balls suck so far up into your body that you think you have four kidneys. Known for hyper-reacting to everything, my wife had really went for it this time. I simply turned and requested an explanation; I was perfectly polite. She was now squatting on the chair, not touching the floor of the car. The floor is lava! She exclaimed she had seen... a mouse!

I am not an eye witness to the mouse. I didn't see the mouse. I will try to describe the beast using the details I took from my wife's rambling. The rodent, almost mythological in proportions, reached a massive length of over ONE INCH! That would make its fangs almost half a millimeter long. The demon creature has it out for my wife; she fears it will escape the car and enter the house in the night to murder her in cold mouse blood (kind of like how Mickey Mouse likes to sneak into Marvel Studios at night and rape Spider Man). The rain was still beating down when my wife demanded we stop so she can evade the evil mouse's advances. We soon came the the small gas station on our road and stopped under the cover. The wife leaped from the car and began to ramble on and on about the rodent and her hatred. At one point I think she slipped into tongues. Maybe the rat used its ESP to invade her mind. After a furious search, I found no sign of the mouse; at all.

After enduring several odd looks from the patrons inside the gas station (probably because we were both still in sleep clothes, walking around our car with all the doors open, stooping down looking under the seats and ramming an umbrella under them in the middle of a monsoon) I convinced the wife to get in the car so I could take her home. I still wanted nuggets. She perched herself on the seat, still rambling on and on about her phobia of mice. We pulled into the drive way and she again tucked and rolled out of the car and stormed into the house. After I calmed her down, I went back and and bought mouse traps and nuggets. I enjoyed the nuggets greatly and the mouse traps are still in the car. On a side note, because she won't drive the car, I get to drive it. My car doesn't have an air conditioner and hers does. Aces! No mice have been captured as of the writing of this blog.

Visit again soon for her version of the story...

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Apple Gaming?

Anyone who reads a lot about video games probably knows who Matt Casamassina is. For those of you who don't he has been the face of Nintendo reporting over at IGN since, well they started up. Later he started reporting on Apple and iPhone/iPod Touch games as well. Today I read via his blog that he is leaving IGN to work for Apple as global editorial games manager, App Store. As he puts it he will be; "Leading the charge for games on the App Store, so whether you browse through iTunes, iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad, the games content you see will be handpicked and organized by me and my team."

If you own any of those devices you should be very excited. Matt knows what he is talking about when it comes to games and more importantly what makes games fun to play. Apple has always lagged behind in gaming and this is a very positive step toward them competing in the games market. Apple recently released info on it iPhone OS 4.0 and one major addition to it is the Game Center. It will be a very Xbox Live like service that will act as a social network, matchmaker for online gaming and will offer achievements. We don't know much more about it right now.

What does this mean for mobile gaming? A major company like Apple getting into a new market is always a big deal. You have always been able to play games on Apple computers and the iDevices, but this new Game Center is the first real maneuver directly into the territory of the Nintendo's and Sony's of the hand-held gaming world. Sony is already struggling with its PSP, while Nintendo is the current giant of the landscape. Nintendo has stated that they are not concerned with any competition the iPhone may present. I think Nintendo should get concerned. As a consumer looking for the most for my money, a device like the iPhone or even just the iPod Touch does so much more than just play games. Nintendo is currently working on its successor to the DS. For Nintendo's sake I hope it's more than a sleeker DS with 3D capabilities.

Too bad I don't own any of these devices; my birthday is November 28 if any of you were wondering :)