Titled this way for the Less Fortunate

So, I ask you...how insane does Tom Cruise have to act before it actually starts to hurt his box office appeal? I mean, I admit that I've never considered myself bias in either way, for or against him in movies....usually he's been in good roles so I've had no problem seeing his films....but now, I'm sorry, I just can't go see Mission Impossible 3 without half expecting him to call someone Glib at any moment or bust into some straight faced ridculous debate about something only to follow it with that forced maniacal laughter he seems to have adopted.

Ok, so it's three in the morning and these are the types of questions that plague me when I have no access to coffee. I am currently on Long Island with fellow traveller Clint in the search for a new apartment in Brooklyn or the surrounding areas. I accidentally fell asleep after today's long walk-about and search...now the house is quiet, my iPod is battery deficient, and I have a hankering for listening to Joe Jackson for some odd reason.

And that's really all I have to say.....tomorrow continues the apartment quest, most likely with the help of a realitor of some variety, unfortunately.....and I'm still craving hearing Stepping Out, which just shows my age I suppose.

Say hello to my Dog Skin Coat

It has come to my attention, and to the attention of my friend and neighbor Clint, who, for those of you not in the know as of yet, lives in the apartment above mine, that a nearby house to ours has become the home to either a cult of chronic dog stabbers, or a cult of dog stabbers supply and lessons store. What I'm getting at here is the fact that screaming dogs are audible at intermitted moments throughout the night and morning.
Now, not only was I unaware that a cult of chronic dog stabbers or a cult of chronic dog stabbers supply and lessons store was legal, but I had no idea that it took so fucking long to kill a dog by repeated stabbings! Then again, I'm not a member of this cult, nor do I subscribe to it's newsletter....so truth be told, there may be some aspects of the dog stabber's techniques that I'm not familiar with that are implemented to prolong the dog stabbing experience.....such as using short bladed instruments in strategic, non-immediate-lethal areas of the canine's anatomy.

Actually....I'm now curious about what a Cult of Chronic Dog Stabbers Newsletter would be like. I can imagine someone getting caught owning many and trying to explain it away by saying, "I just get it for the articles!"

Ok....it's clear that I need my morning coffee now, before I write anymore and hurt the feelings of any sensitive indy kids out there.

The Three D's of a Four D'ed Noose.

Recently I've learned that this new male fashion that's been annoying the living crap out of me is actually called Brooklyn Street. I'm sure you've seen this by now in your neck of the country, it seems to be everywhere: Twenty-something year old males walking around wearing thrift store bought sports jackets over their t-shirts and dawning those trucker style puffy fronted red-neck ball caps over a mop of unwashed hair. Did I miss something? Did some Indy Brit Pop Star or the like recently appear on TRL wearing this? And, I have to say in all honesty, I do believe that this new fashion fad has been mislabeled. The first person I ever saw dressed like this would be Chevy Chase in the late 80's early 90's, but I doubt many young adults trying to be cool would feel that way if what they were wearing was known as Fletch Chic. But still, I thought Brooklyn Street was already taken when men in the early 80's started wearing half length mesh shirts over their white undershirts (also known as wife beaters by us Kentucky folk) and sporting day-glo headbands. I could have sworn that was called Brooklyn Street....or at least that is what my dad called it when he started dressing that way. I don't remember. But imagine what it would be like tomorrow if John Mayer or Graham Coxon had been spotted dressed like that. There'd be indy kids everywhere looking like gay personal trainers, and those not in the know (like myself) would be forced to believe that Loverboy had made some unbelievable comeback....just like I was under the impression that the Chevy Chase show had either just come back on the air or at least been released to dvd....a sad, sad one disc dvd box set.

Speaking of Brooklyn, in the year 1977, Brooklyn, the Bronx and Queens were terrorized by the Son of Sam or "the .44 Caliber Killer", later to be known as David Berkowitz, because, although unimaginative, that's his name. Later he would go on record as saying he was obeying the demands of Sam....this all somehow was spawned by many sleepless nights due to the constant barking of his neighbor's dog. You might find this hard to believe, that is that a constant external noise source can drive someone insane enough to kill. I thought so as well. That was until the Satan Spawn Starling took residence in the tree behind my apartment and not three feet from my bedroom window. Trust me, being awakened constantly by a high pitched bird doing an impression of an old man with Alzheimer's lost and wandering in traffic can really start to effect you.

Completely off the subject, am I the only one who thinks that the new Burger King "wake up with the King" campaign is gay? And by gay I mean targeting homosexuals. Commercials full of construction workers, lumberjacks, the Village People....all waking up in bed with a smiling King. Seriously, I mean, the only thing missing is the King actually being dressed in Brooklyn Street.

Anyway, the screeching semi-redundant call of this retarded fowl living behind me has actually started to take the shape of demands....so far though, not demands to kill for it, more like demands to open the window and scream "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID FUCKING BIRD!!!!!!" ...but I believe that its only a matter of time before I'm led to believe that the only path to true peace is to paint my walls with blood. Just saying.

Really, I have no idea where I'm going with all of this, or exactly how to end it besides saying that this is what happens when Im home all day sick with food poisoning. I think its safe to say that I'm never ordering an Alemeda Burger ever again.

Now where's that bucket?

JG Wettworth can get you cash now for all your cash now needs!

So, is everyone as excited as I am about the screen debut of our country's newest favorite white trash redneck? Oh yes, I speak of Larry the Cable Guy in "Larry the Cable Guy, Health Inspector", a movie so specialized in it's target market that it needed to keep "the Cable Guy" in the title as to not confuse it's pick-up driving imbred cash crop. Could you imagine the mass panic and confusion that could have happened had the film simply been titled "Larry, the Health Inspector"? Good ole boys everywhere would boil with anger at the pretender to the throne! "Good God that bastard is even trying to look just like our beloved Cable Guy!! That's it!! I'm gonna beat my girlfreind!"
Ok ok.....so I might have gone a bit too far with that.....beloved is obviously much too big of a word for Larry's fan base. I mean, really....this is a comic made popular by riding the ass fame of Jeff Foxworthy and spouting off the unbelievably unfunny phrase, "Git R Dun" after every fart joke. At least "you might be a redneck", as redundant as it became was still far more varied than "Git R Dun".
But really, why should I be so surprised at this pig fucker's success? I mean, I live in a nation that still give's it's mentally retarded president far too high of an approval rating all things considered. Maybe we truly are a nation of one liners, fart jokes and short attenti...Ooooooooo something shiney!

The Piles have Noses

Alright! So I admit that I'm a complete horror geek and actually went by myself to see 'the Hills have Eyes' on it's first day in the theaters. Weeeeeeeee!!! As far as my forced pretentious movie critique goes:

If there is any lesson to have ever been learned from watching horror films, it's that you NEVER take the shortcut suggested by the toothless creepy man who giggles to himself while suggesting it. But then, horror films would be much shorter and fairly boring like Thelma and Louise (yes, little did most people know, T&L was actually a horror film....they just took one right where they should have gone left). The summary of this story can be stopped here, because I'm sure you know by now where it's going.....they take the shortcut....and ooooooohhhh Shit!
This movie is everything the previews lead you to expect....complete with multiple and unnecessarry "BOO!" scares, buckets of blood, creepy killer rednecks, great birth defect make-up, unfortunately comical hero posturing to musical crescendos, ect. Is any of it believable? Not for a second. Is it entertaining? Hell yes it is!! Great fun!
That's the whole point of a movie like this one....to be completely fantastic and scary. Leave realistic to a drama with Harrison Ford (who really can't run by the way....I mean seriously, have you seen him run? It's embarrassing, and it's not just his age....he ran funny in Star Wars as well).
I would recommend this film to anyone who was a fan of Thelma and Louise, off of which this movie was loosely based.