Supermarket standoff ends and A Mighty Wind

Well, the California grocery store strike is finally over. I've been following it pretty closely because it was EVERYWHERE in Sacramento when I was there. Sadly, it looks like the union pretty much took it without lube on this one. The employers got more or less everything they wanted, and a lot of good people lost a lot of their time and money.

Joss Whedon is writing an X-Book starting in May. That makes me really happy. I'm sure it will be full of snappy dialogue, arbitrary homosexual characters and other things that Lee will point out to make me shove the comic down his throat.

I re-watched "A Mighty Wind" last night, and I have to say something about it.

The American awards system is complete fucking bullshit because Eugene Levy and Catherine O'Hara WON'T get two Oscars and two Grammys for their flawless musical and acting performances in this movie. The movie itself is better than WAITING FOR GUFFMAN, BEST IN SHOW and SPINAL TAP because none of those movies ever conjured Mitch and Mickey or ever produced such deep and beautifully developed characters. The drives and longings of the characters mixed with the legitimately beautiful folk songs they sing to each other is fucking superior to all else. If you don't cry during the kiss, you ain't no fucking friend of mine.

I'm tempted to say that in the past decade Eugene Levy has made the greatest Hollywood comeback EVER, but shit... he's been here for years.

And you know what? That's not even mentioning all the Fred Willardry.

I never thought I would be more endeared to a comedy than I am to Annie Hall, but this is that comedy. See it now. A Million billion stars.

SIMBA! Where's your head!?

I already forget the name of the group Andrew and I saw tonight, so I'll just call them "Half of Trailer Park Ninjas". They gave perhaps the greatest stage performance ever, though. EV-AR. They did a "Cock Mobster" styled song about fucking Hollywood ladies, and then did a song about killing all of the Earth's precious, precious animals while the DJ ran around Andyman's Tree House tearing the heads from stuffed animals. KING SIZED.

EDIT: I remember the name of the group now: "Wicked Long and Wookalar"

Okay, fuck that shit. I know why you're here. DRUNKEN SMACKDOWN RAMBLINGS!

Brock destroying Billy Gunn was fucking sweet. Billy was as game as I've ever seen him, bumping big time for everything Brock threw at him. And his punches only sucked half the time, so it was a good match.

Kurt Angle coming out to explain himself might have been the greatest thing of all time. Double J getting caught up in it was the second greatest. IT WAS THE RIGHT THING TO DO! HE ATTACKED HIM FOR YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL JERKS! HE ATTACKED EDDY 4 AMERICA! He IS a drug addict! He DOES tell CHILDREN that it's cool to lie, cheat and steal! KURT'S RIGHT! IT'S NOT COOL! AMERICA WAS BUILT ON MORALS AND CHARACTER! FUCK YEAH! THANK YOU, KURT, FOR SACRIFICING FOR OUR CHILDREN. AND OUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN! KURT IS RIGHT! EDDY DOESN'T HAVE A CLEAR CONSCIENCE! DRUG ADDICTS ARE THE LAST PEOPLE WE NEED TO REPRESENT US!!! This was so fucking great. Jesus Christ, did I miss evil Kurt Angle. God, there really is no better heel. Really. "I prayed over it". Such a great fucking heel. Smackdown is fucking Godlike now. One day? Fuck that, I thank you RIGHT NOW, Kurt Angle. You light up my life. You give me hope. To carry on. Smackdown is quality professional wrestling. The Passion of the Eddy Guerrerro is a story I will watch every week. Angle is motherfucking Wrestling Heel GOD. A FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING FUCKING GOD.

Okay, sorry. But this feud is absolutely perfect. And the amazing part is, you just know the match is going to totally live up to the hype.

Those skinny bitches on America's Top Model weren't slobbering on Dirty's knob so I'm not watching. Though I'm guessing Dave will watch just out of love of ODB possibly putting his stank on some white girls with eating disorders. Keith will also watch, but that's because he LIKES that show.

I don't understand advertising condoms on a wrestling show. Wrestling fans are a) not getting any because they're big fucking dweebs, or b) hardcore rednecks who would rather stab you in the neck with a butterfly knife than not ride that shit bareback. There are exceptions to both rules of course, but not enough to create a viable demographic. I'm just sayin' is all.

Everybody drink a Colt 45 to Eddy's recovery! Here here!

Angel was alrightish tonight, although it had a tough act to follow after last week. Spike can go straight to Hell for being such a pussy, but at least Fred is getting closer to dead.

Remember Drop Dead Fred? That was a fuckin' movie, right there.

Veer right! Veer right!

"The Danish Pedophile Association is another group with global reach and may offer the most-extensive set of links to similar pro-pedophilia groups on the World Wide Web. Like Ashford, it takes the position that pedophilia is not a sexual disorder, but an orientation that cannot be changed.

Pedophilia "has all the same characteristics as homosexuality, transvestism, fetishism, etc.," said Dan Markussen, spokesman for the 100-member association, which was founded in 1985. "Sexual orientation is defined as a lifelong attraction, which pedophilia obviously is.""

This is seriously the most fucked up thing I've seen in AGES. Minors CAN'T consent. People who can't consent are victims by definition. There are no victims in homosexuality.

Also, if you've been an organization for 19 years and you only have 100 members, there's probably a reason for that.

I eat it RAW like sushi

Raw sucked AND blew last night.

On the plus side, Booker T is finally being given something to do, back in a tag team run. Rob Van Dam's offense is more varied than Stevie Ray's, but not as credible. I used to really like RVD, too.

Flair has humiliated himself more the anyone in wrestling history. Making out with a Mannequin, hanging out with Major Gunns in an insane asylum, faking a heart attack, getting pinned by Bischoff, having Russo make out with his wife, getting buried in the desert, Nash handing him the world title, jobbing to Shane Douglas, but there is something especially awful about watching him bow to Meatloaf as he proclaims his greatness. Seriously, Hunter. Twinkies are NOT toys.

They really need to stop choreographing dance moves for Stacy and Gaydar. Haven't the WWE choreographers been in a club? If you have two girls who can't dance just have them hump each others knees arhythmically... don't try to teach them steps. I've seen fat townies look hotter struggling to do the Achy Breaky line dance.

The Unpossibles rock harder than you

Okay, I've gotta say... I'm a big honkin' Unpossibles fan. Way to go, Keith. You and your boys absolutely rocked it to pieces on Saturday night. The lead singer even made up for not knowing his lyrics by having the SWANK sticker on his lap top. I thought that you would keep your Deppish business casual ensemble goin' for longer than you did, though. You know... for one song, maybe.

I ordered a Bloody Mary late in the evening and boy was I ever dismayed. Vodka in the glass, here comes the tobasco, tomato juice, wor... oh, wait, no... he's just dumping in a prepared Bloody Mary mix. Isn't bartending supposed to be an art form? Doesn't anyone take pride in their work anymore? Should convenience outmode quality? I mean, come on. At least I got a lime wedge.

Dolly Parton should have an appreciation week sometime in June. If everyone in the world just listened to "Jolene" and "Coat of Many Colors" all week long this world would be a lot happier to live in. Also, Johnny Cash's version of "Orange Blossom Special" kills almost all other country music ever.

I was thinking about how a lot of people are saying that the biggest issue in the upcoming election is national security. Maybe it's just me, but shouldn't we be more concerned with things that could actually happen to us, personally - like, losing our jobs for instance? Last I checked, there weren't suicide bombers on every corner. I'm just sayin' is all.

Whole lotta random goin' on

Apollo Sunshine ruled my school AND yours, daddio! Big ups to fellow blog roller Andrew for acknowledging how hard me and Ashley rock.

When Dawn Maries boobies hang out, 37 year old virgins the nation over toast a burning, festering load over their framed, autographed Harlan Ellison 8x10s, right into the center of their Thora Birch Stalking Shrine. She's hot! Goddamn!

You know those Microtouch shaver commercials? It would NEVER in a million years dawn on me to use that for my ears. I would just get some tweezers or pliers or yank really hard with my thumb and forefinger.

Why can't more women look like Leah Remini? Specifically, the "cast" that Top Model show. Those bitches need to eat a fucking sandwich.

Brock really needs to start shouting slogans to the camera and calling the disgruntled white youths into action to "TAKE OUR NATION BACK!!"

Cody sez: "Holy skibbles"

Andy sez: "Shut up, Cody."

(My portion of this conversation may have been wholly imagined.)

Puppet Angel was fucking king sized. Third favorite ep of the year, behind the Cordelia one from two weeks back and the eternal favorite, "The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco." Nothing can ever, EVER, EVAR beat zombie luchadores. When puppet Angel morphed to vamp-face, the tears were of joy and laughter, but quickly turned bittersweet as I realized that Angel won't be doing that, in any form, for too much longer.

Legends of the Hidden Temple is going to give me a Super Pro moment one of these days. I just know it.

YOU HAVE BEEN BLOGGED!

Avalon Smile?

I was correct. Going to the movies perked me right up. "50 First Dates" was standard Sandler fare, but happily without the seemingly requisite heartfelt speech delivered by his character that always completely kills his movies off. "Harold and Maude" was just as awesome as I had remembered it, and seing the DVD menu come up after the credits really delighted me for some reason.

Apollo Sunshine is tonight at Skully's. Low dough! Low dough! If Cody had a supersonic jet he would join me for the concert, but he doesn't, so he won't. Shit kickin' Okie bastard. Looks like Funky D, Fra Digga, and Ashy are on board at the very least. I hope to see others, though, because if you haven't seen Apollo Sunshine, you ought to. I still think a more marketable name would be "Monkees 2K4" but what do I know?

"But I'm PREGGGGGNANT!"

Throughout my life, I've always tried very hard not to actually hate people. There are those that I dislike, there are dozens more that do things that really irk me, but I can't think of any one person that I've ever truly hated: until now. Wow... that really reads like a movie trailer. Anyway, I hate my cousin Heather. She is without a doubt the most loathsome, callous, selfish, reprehensible person I've ever come to know personally. And my grandmother allowed her to enter her home. Not only that, she allowed her to stay there. Here's the best part, though. She was kicked out of her previous residence by her own grandfather, who then drove her to MY grandmother's house. He's such an idiot. If Heather's mother hadn't been adopted, that would be a very strong case for a close genetic link between the two of them. Words really can't properly capture how angry I am. Luckily, I'm going to the movies with Beautiful and Beloved, Lou Cass, Fra the Rugged Man, and Double J, so that ought to put me in a better frame of mind.

The biscuits

Wow. I mean... wow. So... I'm sitting in my TV room from about 10:35 until 11:05, my eyes completely glued to the screen, and terrified to blink. I had to absorb every last second of the 'bit o' all right' that was Shawn Michaels versus Chris Benoit. This will also probably be the only time I devote an entire post to one wrestling match, but for this one, it's worth it. I implore you, anyone who didn't see the match and has the slightest interest in wrestling (no, Ashley, not you) to SEE THIS MATCH. Not today. Not tomorrow. YESTERDAY. Why? I'll give you some reasons.

Shawn using the ropes to block the German suplexes early on: This is brilliant for two reasons; one, it's a really logical counter that is underused, and two, if you tease an audience with something early, it makes it mean more later. When Benoit finally hit the rolling Germans, the crowd went nuts. Though, until Benoit actually hit the suplexes, I was thinking that maybe Jesus had told Shawn that morning not to take any.

Michaels using his kippup early in the match, before Benoit had worked his back over: This rules because something that's been bugging me about Michaels lately is his tendency to "Jesus Up" late in his matches and completely ignore any work that's been done to his back. If it's 1985 and he's Hulk Hogan, yeah, it's fine, but it's not, and he's not, so it ain't!

!~THE SHARPSHOOTER~! You know, Montreal was over six years ago at this point, but it's crystal clear that McMahon is NEVER going to get over it, so I figure I'll just go with it. This was an awesome, awesome spot and for a minute I actually believed that Shawn would tap out.

Anyway, Shawn/Benoit was the biscuits, and I eagerly await a one on one ppv rematch. Hm... there IS a Raw only pay per view in Edmonton in April...

9:00 pm! Tuesday night! Studio 35! 50 First Dates and Harold and Maude! BE THERE!

VIVA LA RAZA!

I completely forgot about No Way Out last night, and god damn... Eddy went out and won the damn belt. Good for him. I know it's a scripted sport and all, but when a guy who is as good and hard working as Eddy Guerrero gets recognized for his talents, that makes me feel like maybe the business isn't ALL sleazy politics.

So, after a mildly disappointing outing from Benoit and Flair, WWE has ratcheted up the potential coolness factor immeasurably by promising Benoit versus Michaels for the first time ever... TONIGHT. Horribly telegraphed Triple H run in aside, this one should be a classic if given time.

Where for art thou, Dave? Answer your god damn cell phone.

Just shoot me now why don't ya?

Word to the wise: Don't make James Marsters the focus of any television series if you want it to have a long and happy life. Peace out, Angel. Mourn ya till I join ya.

Quick Smackdown/Angel thoughts and Lee's a funny guy

So, last night was the BELOVED Smackdown!/Angel three hours of fun!

Eddy and Brock could be the only thing announced for No Way Out and I would order it. Eddy and Brock could wrestle for three hours and I would order it. Hell, the rest of the card could be filled with matches like Jamie Noble versus Nidia, the Bashams and Shaniqua versus 2/3 Cool, and the APA versus Shelton and Charlie and I would... oh, wait... damn. This show is really shaping up to The Agony and the Ecstasy.

Jamie Noble isn't a real redneck because he didn't talk about getting no respect. And PETA must be intensely confused after Nidia's mink into the woodchipper display.

I love well worked Southern formula tag team wrestling. Big Show and Brock cutting off Cena's attempts to make the hot tag to Eddy were beautiful. People who know how to manipulate the crowd are loved by me. In another life, Pat Robertson would have been the greatest wrestling manager EVER.

You know what? FUCK Top Model. I'm going to keep saying it as long as they shove that bullshit down our throats. Not only would I rather fuck Leah Remini than any of those skinny hos, I'd rather fuck Kevin James just out of RESPECT for fucking Leah Remini than any of those skinny hos. King of Queens rules, yo.

Angel was kind of chumpy tonight, but a chumpy Angel is still preferable to 90% of all other television programming. I tried to have Fred killed with my brain, but it didn't quite pan out. I was also entertained by the Prince of Lies a little more than I probably should have been.

Lee's realization that renting Farscape tonight wouldn't be conducive to the party atmosphere was hysterical.

"Excuse me, could you guys keep it down in there? We're trying to hear Rygel."

I wonder what it would take to get Lee to go completely HOSS and start throwing Western Lariats at party goers? That would delight me to no end. Hell, I'd be a man and take one right in the neck to get him started.

Big ups to Adam for taking that job and shoving it. I will drink a toast to you. Or maybe toast a load to you.

"That's what's called innuendo." - Big Show, December 2003

With that, a quote from the man with the greatest theme music ever... you've been blogged.

You're gonna meet me

So, I met Julia's parents last night. More precisely, I met her mother and soon to be step-father. I know it's cliché, but it was a nerve racking experience. Seems like I did well enough, and I wasn't grilled too heavily. They didn't even flinch at the notion of us joining them for a glass of wine after dinner. Cool people.

I think I'm going to talk to my father about having a permanent post at his shop, French Tailors. I used to hate working there when I was younger, but a few times over the past couple of weeks he's needed me to mind the store and I've loved it. I enjoy talking to customers, mainly. Taking calls, saying, "Yes, we can do that", it's all good.

"My Own Private Idaho" is a GO! tonight, baybee! Nothing like River Pheonix sucking cock on a giant movie screen to end my evening. Speaking of sucking cock...

I'm sure that Cody will want me to mention his name somewhere in here. So there it is.

I just make a little joke.

I know that Wednesday nights are generally pretty busy for the core group of good buddies, what with band practices, and Comic Townery, and bar tending, and living in Beige-ville, but Ashley and I will be at Studio 35 at 9:00 for the double feature, and we'd love to see other people we know there as well.

Peace and love.

Monday television and other stuff

Benoit and Flair didn't QUITE live up to my lofty expectations, but it was still a good match based on its own merits. Triple H also managed to give his first non sleep inducing promo in ages. He's the Game, ya know.

Yep, that's it. It's all I have to say about RAW tonight. Relieved?

This afternoon, I watched a weird Kevin Bacon/Charlize Theron/Courtney Love kidnapping thriller called "Trapped". It was one of those movies where the plot is so over the top that with an adequate at best cast it would be a completely lost cause. However, Bacon and Theron do a really good job holding their part of the drama up, and it manages to work well enough in whole that I didn't feel like I'd wasted my time on it. The little kidnapped girl managed to carefully toe the line between cute and annoying too, a somewhat rare trait in child actors. All in all, if you happen to catch it on HBO, give it a shot. Don't go out of your way, though.

This Masked Rider action figure came out of NOWHERE. It just appeared in my house the other day. I assume it's Roger's or Brandon's, but that show was off the air way before either of them would have given a shit about it. He has no arms, but it's definitely him. Stupid praying mantis lookin' motherfucker.

Ring of Honor returns to Ohio on June 12th, in Dayton. Let's posse up for that one. I'm in favor of buying a bunch of front row tickets. If you've never been, you won't be sorry. It's Sliced Bread #2. Christopher Daniels is my satanic wrestling Jesus.

And it humbles, humbles, humbles... that ring of honor... that ring of honor. You've been blogged. Peace.

I've got comments, BITCH!

Thanks to the awesomeness of Ashley, I'm now comment board capable. For this kindness, I may even stop calling her Beautiful and Beloved. But probably not. The least I can do is link to her blog. Maybe it'll inspire her to update it more than once a fortnight. One can only hope. Ashley's Super Keen Blogorama!

Flamehead to the rescue

I received an E-mail from Abe a couple of hours ago, which just about made my day. Lanky, freegan, anarchist, Brad Garrett sounding motherfucker. I miss him so much. Portland sucks. I need to go reclaim the Abe. It's too late for Dave, but not everyone has to fade out.

Cody said to update

And what Cody wants, Cody gets. Gallery Hop was fun last night for a February Hop. Fuck 4 dollar beers, though. I stood and watched while Julia drank down her excess. It went all bitter about halfway through, too. Never trust expensive beer or Guerreros.

The Oak was the Oak. Anyone who's reading this was there. You know what it's about.

Lucas says that my blog is boring. I say, "STOP READING MY BLOG THEN, DICK!" Or maybe I'll just introduce gimmickry and rah-rah.

Andy's Top Ten Things Cody has said to me lately

10. "I'll try to brb so we can LOL"

9. "It's not just a normal kick, it's super."

8. "I don't pay much attention to rabbis. I stick to real religons"

7. "I hate the veins Batista has in his arms"

6. "But you were all like "Nooooo, I'm Andy, ANS! ANS! ANS!""

5. "Why would I give you my phone number, if you're just going to yell at me?"

4. "what's a blog?"

3. "Josh would read your blog too. But Josh would probably masturbate while reading it. Which is just weird."

2. "If my name isn't somewhere in this blog, you will be seriously injured."

1. "You should call her Double J"

Ah, Cody... hard not to love him.

If I get a cell phone, I want a "Crazy In Love" ringtone, just to piss Franz off.

If I could be serious for a minute

I'm overdoing it lately. Turning 21 didn't feel as liberating as I thought it would and I think that I've been trying to overcompensate for that. Going out and getting smashed was fun at first, but the more I do it, the more I feel like I'm just trying too hard. I don't know if I'm trying to fill in some empty space in my life, or if I'm just trying to make myself feel like an adult. Whatever it is, it has to stop. It's just not fun anymore. I like drinking. I do. I just need to tone it down some.

The smoking thing is ridiculous, too. I hate cigarettes. They're really disgusting,and they add absolutely nothing to my life. I started to smoke in August because I was feeling stressed out about where my life was at, and more specifically the upcoming move to Sacramento. While in Sacramento, I continued to smoke because I started passing out again and felt stress over that. But I'm home now, and I've continued to smoke. Why? Nothing is wrong with my life. It's ridiculous. I quit. I was walking home tonight and I smoked two cigarettes right in a row. WHY? What a bunch of bullshit.

Lucas and I are going to watch a Kentucky game soon. I'm looking forward to that. We've never hung out, just the two of us.

Gallery Hop is tomorrow. February Gallery Hop. The hoppinest Hop of them all. Or the coldest.

Franz as The Incredible Thor was pretty scary.

The people next door to the Light Funky Lads' house seem like the sort of people I'd like to get to know better. I'll have to file that away.

This is the worst blog update ever.

The last line says it all

I just remembered something that pissed me off. According to the Ryan Seacrest show (shut up, I was watching it for the Topher content, I swear), the most requested song on Oklahoma City radio for the past three weeks is "Milkshake" by Kelis. It's nice to know where to point the finger for the popularity of that song. Fuck you, Cody.

RAW is War... but Smackdown is LOVE

The continuation of THE VOYAGE will have to wait until another time. I am still too battle weary from the ordeal to go into it right now. That and I'd rather talk about Smackdown and Angel and how rocking both were.

Non wrestling nerds, you might want to skip over this portion. Non Angel nerds, you might want to skip the portion AFTER the wrestling portion. Just fair warning.

Columbus's pride and joy, The Bashams, lost the tag team titles to 2/3 Cool, a duo that was hugely popular... in the year 2000. Way to create new stars there, WWE. Hopefully this is just a transition to your tag team saviors and mine... Shelton and Charlie.

Big Show has the best theme music ever. Billy Gunn does not. He SOOOOO does not. Randy Newman meets Belinda Carlisle meets Billy Ray Cyrus (thanks Lee)

Coredlia is dead. And a whole bunch of other shit happened. Lindsey got superpowers somehow. I love that any time that anyone becomes imbued with super powers in the Whedon-Verse, another character saying something about "mojo" is all the explanation that is needed. At least Warren had a power stone.

Despite the awesome-i-tude of the episode, it appears that Lindsey and Coredlia are both gone, at least for the short term. Fuck that. If the show wasn't hitting on all cylinders right now, I swear... nah, I'd watch it anyway.

Wesley saying "kicking it old school" might have shorted out my funny fuse. If I see Ben Affleck's parents, I'll know for sure.

I hate Eve. She's supposed to be all evil and sexy and willowy, but she's just irritating, skinny and oddly configured. Okay, so there's one cylinder down.

NEXT WEEK: SPIKE IS A NAZI! I'm so there.

I sang Ashley a song into her voice mail today. She didn't seem impressed. Fuck that noise.

This is where I usually say something about Cody. He doesn't like that I smoke. He doesn't understand how cool I feel, though. Phillip Morris is too smart for me.

Julia is AWESOME. That's just for the record, in case any of my vast fanbase was wondering.

Andrew met Ghostface Killah today. Again. Whoopee.

Okay, so that's actually really cool. I'm just jealous.

Feeling content is really, really excellent. I reccomend it to anyone.

Why GOD why!?

Mark Henry is out for 4-6 months with a shoulder injury. Shoot me now. RAW's strong style superworker is going under the knife. Thank God for the Benoit roster jump.

Oh, and Zach Gowen got cut. Fuck him and his stupid one leg. My Sun-Tanned Superman is down for the count.

Normal Again

Oh my GOD what a week. I honestly felt like I was in some twisted... well, twist, on a father/son reconciliation movie of the week.

Oh, to get everyone up to speed... my grandfather (henceforth known as "Pa") was in town to help celebrate the lovely Annie's 19th birthday on Thursday. During the course of the dinner, I decided that perhaps the lonely old man could use some company. I volunteered to go home with him to Clarksburg, West Virginia and stay for a few days. So, Pa and I set off on Friday morning, the start of what I shall refer to in polite conversation as "THE VOYAGE" until I can think of something better and more movie of the weekish. Anyhow, the absolute highlight of the entire trip took place just as we were getting into Clarksburg and passed a dinky, middle of nowhere bar called the "Sunshine Saloon". They had a marquee out front that said "Saturday Night: DJ Premiere". I laughed like a maniac for a good two minutes while Pa grew increasingly frustrated by his inability to grasp what was so funny, even after multiple attempts to explain it to him. I was sadly unable to reach Andrew to share my glee.

Day One (Friday) was mostly without incident. Pa made sure that I knew about all of the things he did to improve the town of Clarksburg fifty years ago with his friend "Shorty", but other than that, things were nondescript.

Day Two (Saturday) was a bit livelier. At one point during dinner, I was buttering my bread, and he chuckled. He said, "You should have seen the way Dylan (his former live in grandson) used to butter his bread. It about drove me nuts." I smiled and said, "Why's that?" At this, Pa leapt to his feet (knocking over his chair in the process), and yelled "Hell, I don't know, Andy! It just did!" Say it with me now... TOUCHY. So, this picture perfect family dinner continued in similar fashion, with classic one liners such as, "You Napiers all think you know so god-darn much!" and "I have two thousand people who admire me! I'll bet you don't have that many people who admire you!" The latter I replied to with, "So, we're having a contest?". To this, good ol' Pa didn't let me down by telling me to get out of his house. After several assurances that he was serious, I gathered my things, packed my suitcase, put on my coat and gloves and headed for the door. At this point, he took it to another level (if that's even POSSIBLE) and told me that I wasn't "going anywhere" and that I'd have to physically move him to get through the front door. So... yeah.

You know, it was kind of exhausting just to get all of that out on the screen, so I think maybe I'll do the rest of THE VOYAGE after I get back home this morning.

Quick notes:

CM Punk rules me.

I smile like a goon when I hear the new Liz Phair song.

Ashley is like having a sister without the painful memories of abuse from when I was five years old.

Cody was the bomb in Phantoms, yo.

Peace.