Man of Steel - NAUGHTY LANGUAGE WARNING

As Friend of the Blog Andrew "Funky D" Patton has not yet seen the new episode, in lieu of my usual Office review I'll be taking a look at something that has swept the imagination of this great nation in recent weeks: Superman.


Playing to his strengths. Namely, being a dick.

I don't really care for Superman for the most part. He's too powerful. But thanks to a seventeen year old boy, the Man of Tomorrow is at least entertaining me again.


DIPSHIT!

Yes, that is Soulja Boy, or if you're really formal, Soulja Boy Tell 'Em. That's right. "Tell 'Em" is a part of his name. Anyhow, he's had this song out for about two months now called Crank That (Soulja Boy). Like we'd forget his name if it wasn't in the song title. Trust me, Soulja Boy, when you say your name in your only hit song so many times that your only rival in insecurity is Mike Jones (who? Mike Jones!), we're going to remember you.

Anyhow, this song is terrible. I could try and make all kinds of clever comparisons, but at the end of the day, "bad" sums it up pretty nicely. Also, you can't really tell because he's wearing those shades, but Soulja Boy Tell 'Em is sub-normal. It's the only way to explain the dance he does in the video. They must have cast this thing on the high tension wire side of Cabrini-Green, because there's no way that many normal black people would ever agree to do this dance.

But this isn't about how awful Soulja Boy and his stupid dance are. This here is a glass half full blog entry. Because while it's completely disposable pap, Crank Dat does possess one silver lining. In the song, he repeatedly says, and I quote: "Superman that ho!" A group consisting of myself, Funky D, Davekwon, and Jason all found this hilarious. It was kind of like being in grade school and hearing something you knew was naughty, but not really having any idea what it actually meant. None of us had enough follow through to look it up either. It never even occurred to me to do so, as I figured it was just something stupid this teenager was saying. But Jason Sharp went the extra mile! Actually, he saw it mentioned on a message board and just asked what the Hell it meant, but still, way to be, J.

As he told me over the phone, I don't have his exact wording, so I'll take it from Urban Dictionary.

"1. superman dat hoe

when you ejaculate on a girls back then put a blanket on her so when she stands up the blanket sticks therefore making her look like she has a cape."

I acually like the wording of the second definition better.

"2. superman dat hoe

it's when you skeet on a ho's back, and then the bedsheet sticks to her, making a superman-style cape."

Ahhhhhhh skeet skeet skeet!

Anyway... is it demeaning? Sure. Is it funny? Hell yes.

Before I leave you, just one more thing on this Soulja Boy character. He may be a dipshit seventeen year old, and a shoot retard, and the beat of his song may sound like low-end No Limit bullshit from 1999 or so, but to his credit... he's got him some bathin' apes.


YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU!

Later on folks. For those just DYING for my analysis of Season 4, Episode 7, Survivor Man, hang in there. It should be up on Sunday after a second viewing. So until tomorrow, y'all have been blogged. YOOOOOOUUUUUUUU!


Rainn Wilson, my man on the inside, keeps Krasinski at bay!

Scattershot

iTunes won't open. This is unacceptable. I was going to import some Nas into my playlist. Perhaps it's a safety feature of the application. Oh hey, it finally opened. He must have passed the test or something. And appropriately, we start with mc chris, who is set to rock Columbus a week from this very night at the High Five. Tickets are on sale now!


"I was told that Piebald would be here."

Hey, you know what ships on Tuesday? M'fin' Fire Pro Wrestling Returns, that's what! It's finally here, and me without a PS2.

Andrew, on this "A Mix For Daymon" you made, there's a song called Only One Can Win (Two Can Win). This makes no sense. I know you're en route to the Windy City as I type this, but seriously, what's up with that?

Anybody catch the Guitar Queer-o ep of South Park last night? I don't want to give anything away, but...


This picture is undeniable. Embrace the greatness.

When the fall began I was eagerly anticipating each new episode of The Office, counting them down as the weeks passed. Now, however... there is no joy in counting, as tonight brings the first of the last two episodes in the can as the strike wears on.

Brian Bosworth takes too much shit from people about his acting. What were they expecting? Stone Cold and One Man's Justice are both amazing anyway.


"Imagine the future, Chains, 'cause you're not in it."

Until next time (tomorrow), you've been blogged!


"You like nerd rap and Japanese wrestling games? How can I get with this!?"

Steeeeeeeeeee-rike!

Unfortunately, I didn't get around to doing any in depth research on the candidates or issues for today's election. Usually I earmark an hour or two the night before or the morning of the election. However, there was RAW to be watched on Monday, and this morning, with newspaper in hand, I was distracted by a captivating episode of Boston Legal. Blame that dreamy James Spader.


"I like food too much to be in movies anymore. Thanks, network TV!"

The only races I really cared about were the mayoral and city council seats. In truth, I only care about the city council seats because Dan Williamson told me to. I voted for Brownson, damn it! A Republican will help stir the pot! Other than those two elections, my main focus was in voting for names that were obviously Hispanic. Hopefully in doing so I ended up with a mix of Democrat and Republican. I suppose I could check up on it now that I'm online.


My kind of candidate! Oops.

I tried. The Columbus Dispatch website isn't very helpful on this matter. I just remembered that I know one of the eight people running for mayor of Bexley though, so that's kind of cool.

Onto things that actually matter, the writer's guild is on strike, as I'm sure you've heard. The late night talk shows have already been sent into re-runs. Soap operas are next. Basically anything with a quick turnaround is doomed in the short-term. Depending on how long this thing lasts, most scripted shows may be largely unaffected. Most series have scripts stockpiled and ready to shoot, but how many? The last time the guild went on strike, in 1988, it lasted six months and as I read in the newspaper today, many credit that for cable gaining a strong foothold earlier than it would have and reality programming becoming part of our everyday lives. In fact, had it not been for that strike, the show COPS may have never hit the airwaves.


And what a tragedy that would have been, right?

So the big question for this blogger is, of course, what does this mean for A) professional wrestling, and B) The Office?

TNA is written by Jeff Jarrett, Dutch Mantel, and Vince Russo, none of whom are members of the union, so it will go along as shoddily booked and confusing as ever. WWE does employ union writers, but apparently it's considered a sports property, and thus the strike doesn't affect those writers. I don't really understand it fully, but that's what I've read. And honestly, even if the Hollywood writers they have on staff did go on strike, it would just mean you'd have actual wrestling people giving more input into the shows, which would be fine with me as a change of pace until the strike is over.

Now, here's where it gets sad. The Office has two unaired episodes in the can currently. The ones airing Thursday the 8th and Thursday the 15th. There are scripts to be shot, and indeed they did some filming yesterday. Here's the problem. Two of the lead cast members, Steve Carell and Rainn Wilson, are refusing to come in to work in support of the union. Supporting actors Ed Helms and Oscar Nunez are out as well. They were only able to film two scenes yesterday due to the lack of actors. I don't know for certain which cast members are actually members of the guild, but I would guess that at least Carell, Helms, and Nunez are based on previous work they've done in the industry. It appears that Jenna is all clear to continue doing what she does.

I support what the striking union members are after, which is a bigger slice of the revenue pie, but this is now directly impacting my viewing habits! I'm torn.

Instead of creating new reality shows to fill the scripted series void, they should just import them from Europe. Like the greatest game show of all time, Italy's Un, Due, Tre, Stalla!


Who wants to marry a farmer? Huh? Anyone? Bueller?

I'm hoping for a quick resolution in this matter, but it appears the union and the studios are quite far apart on percentages. Could be a long, humorless winter.


Can't we just get a reality show called "Beboppin' Around With Jenna and Angela?"

The 8 am Adderall Buzz Blog

Sometimes when people take an existing product and try to make it more user friendly, they forget about the people who had already been using said product for ages with no trouble whatsoever. The COTA website's redesign is very upsetting to me. I used to pride myself on being the king of the north side bus routes, all because with a couple of well placed clicks, I knew when and where to be to get to wherever it is that I might have needed to go. Now, every time I go to the site, it takes me twice as long as it used to in order to get the information I want. This is partly due to my own admittedly bad memory, as I'd gotten used to the old site layout over the years. But it worked perfectly fine for me, and I'm sure many others who rely on Columbus's venerable yet underfunded public transportation system. There should be a "COTA Classic" option for those of us who want the familiarity of the old site as opposed to the "ease" of the new one.


I'll try to limit the whining for the rest of the entry.

I'm closing out week two of being baseball cap guy. It was originally in response to a too-short haircut (an essential if regrettable sacrifice made in my quest to emulate the great Andrew Patton for Halloween), but I've grown to enjoy having it on my head. I'd like something with a little more personality than a standard OSU number though.


Win.

Uncle Adam tried to make Hall and Oates come a month early with the power of his MIND. And his appointment book. We laufed and laufed.

I watched The Holiday yesterday. If you don't remember, it hit theaters last year around Christmas-time and BROKE ALL BOX OFFICE RECORDS. And by that I mean it failed to recoup even its production budget. This is probably due to the cost of an all-star cast consisting of the spooge chick from There's Something About Mary, the less fat dude from Tenacious D, the hot little crumpet who gets painted nude in Titanic, and Jude Law. This movie was cloying, obvious, had a completely useless Dustin Hoffman cameo as a throwaway joke, and featured dancing as the ending credits rolled. Oh, and it's about forty minutes too long for a romantic comedy, clocking in at a beefy two hours and twenty minutes. And it has Jet's Be My Girl on the soundtrack. Yes, in the latter portion of 2006. All that said, I didn't hate it. I blame Kate Winslet. She's just so darn cute. I just hope Jenna doesn't become the Kate Winslet of the prime time world. This woman is 32 and has five Oscar nominations, yet no wins. You'd think they'd throw you a bone at some point, before you turn into a talented Susan Lucci. Hey, I just read that she turned down the lead in Shakespeare in Love, which I'm pretty sure Gwyneth Paltrow actually won an Oscar for. She's gotta be better than Paltrow, right?


Kate's the one that isn't Ricky Gervais.

Hockey fights are impressive to me. I'd never really thought about it until today, but imagine the balance you have to maintain in order to be successful in a hockey fight. That's two dudes grabbing each other by the jersey or hair with one hand, and punching with the other. There's very little margin for error as it concerns your footing.

I was watching an old WCW Monday Nitro the other day, and two things were very clear from the opening match, a tag encounter pitting the Miracle Jobber Connection of Rick Fuller and Roadblock against Lex Luger and The Giant. Luger and Giant were announced as being the tag team champions but had no belts. WCW, right? Anyway, as I mentioned, two things were very clear to me. 1) Lex Luger was ungodly bad when he was in there against someone who didn't know what he was doing, ala Mr. Fuller and Mr... uh... Block, I guess. And 2) It's so sad that Paul Wight didn't become a good worker until he was well into his WWE run. He was huge in 1997, but not in a bad way. Just lean and muscular and surprisingly fast as well. The problem was, he was two years into the business and not any good. So by the time he figured out how to work in WWE, he knew what to do, his body just wouldn't allow him to do it very well. Supposedly he's dropped about 60 pounds since leaving WWE, and that figure is from April, so it could be significantly more at this point. If he could keep the weight off and come back for another run on top, there's no telling how awesome he could be. I love The Big Show, it's true.


Fat guys is strong too.

And now, for no reason at all...


"Wave of babies!"

Time for go to school!


Nuts to history. Teaching golf is where it's at.

The Eyes Are the Groin of the Head

I have nothing to lead with aside from this picture, so let's just dive in.


ROFLCOPTER

OBLIGATORY "THE OFFICE" REVIEW FOR SEASON 4, EPISODE 6: "BRANCH WARS"

Nobody really got KAREN'D, but she did give ol' Jim a good talking to. The off-screen chaos featuring Dwight and Michael trying to steal the Utica branch's copier was tremendous. Great use of the walkie talkies when they were apparently pinned down by the mass of the machine in the stairwell: "Jim, if this is it for me, promise me something. Host the Dundies." It was good to see the beautiful Rashida Jones, daughter of Quincy Jones and Peggy Lipton, back on the show, as unlike August 23rd, I love her again.


Yes, you're sexy. WE GET IT. Crazy girl.

For being the focus of the main plot, Stanley didn't have a whole lot to do in this episode. He did get a great line in at the end when he revealed that he wasn't actually going to Utica: "How on earth did Michael call my bluff? Is he some sort of secret genius? Sometimes I say crazy things."

The Finer Things Club was kind of a cute concept, but it was sloppily executed. If people are bugging you so much in the break room, move your meetings to the conference room, dummies. Oscar's line made the entire subplot worth it though: "Besides having sex with men, I would say The Finer Things Club is the gayest thing about me." Yay Oscar!

Joss Whedon directed this fine episode. This marks his second time at the helm of an episode of The Office, and he once again put in a YEOMAN'S effort.

And to wrap the analysis up... I'd say by the end of this episode, we're still at a pretty high rating on the JAM happiness scale. I don't have any exact numbers or anything, but I'd call the chances of an imminent breakup pretty remote. Someone on a message board I frequent compared Jim's attitude towards the Finer Things Club to that of Roy's toward Pam's art show. This person is a FOOL. Jim actively sought membership into the Finer Things Club in order to be close to Pam. Sure he fucked it up by not reading Angela's Ashes like he was supposed to (with ZANY results!), but Roy just showed up with his brother, strolled around, and left, saying "Your art was the prettiest art of all the art." What a tool. Jim definitely needs to grow up a little bit, but don't we all? Anyway, JAM's lookin' strong heading into episode 7, Survivor Man!

So uh... I guess there was absolutely NO REASON for non-Office watchers to read this particular entry. Oh well. That's what you get for being lame I guess. Suckers!


CIRCUITS OVERLOADED

Ghosts and Grudges and of course... Ballin'!

After I felt more like myself yesterday, I watched that Ghost Hunters special with Davekwon. I didn't think it was as good as last year's, but as guest wrestlers go, Elijah Burke lived up to and even exceeded the daunting standard set by CM Punk. Seeing him scream, throw his arms up in the air, and tear ass down a hallway by himself near the end of the live program really put it over the top. I think somebody touched his shoulder or something. He was great, asking all kinds of questions and seeming very interested in the whole experience. I am a much bigger Elijah Burke fan after watching him learn about ghosts for six hours.


What is the opposite of "I ain't afraid of no ghost?"

After Dave left, I felt I needed some kind of distraction to cause me to stop thinking about how I was probably going to be Grudged at any moment...


ACK! Run, Buffy the Vampire Slayer! Run!

...so, I popped in the first season of The Office. And as my bootleg copy of the finest show in creation's freshman effort jerked around ever so slightly, just enough to make me a little seasick, I thought, "Damn, I should get my real copy of this back." So Lee, I'll trade you back your G.I. Joe Volume 1 for my season one of The Office. I needz my commentaries and deleted scenes!


"You throw me the DVD, I throw you the TPB!"

So, I was slightly off yesterday when I did my bloggin'. I blogged with full awareness of that fact, and in truth, I'm glad it turned out the way it did because I learned a valuable lesson about myself and my coherence while in an altered state. But not, ya know, Altered States. I was not, in fact, dropping acid.

I'm in a fantasy basketball league this season for what I believe is the first time in my life. If not, then I'm guessing I did pretty poorly in the other one as I have no memory of it. I will try to stay on top of it with making sure to switch out inactive players from my starting lineup and whatnot. I predict I will succeed for a good three weeks and then completely lose interest as I slip further and further in the standings.

Broken Lizard has announced their new project, and it's weird. Jay CHANFFDSFL:SDKFSDL:SDKFSDFKSDFDSAHAR (pronounced "Shamallian") is not directing this time. Instead, it'll be Kevin Heffernan (who was surprisingly svelte on How I Met Your Mother this past Monday) calling the shots in SLAMMIN' SALMON! It is in fact, about... well, here's the one-sentence summary from Variety, care of Cinematic Happenings Under Development.

"Story, to be penned by the troupe, revolves around a restaurant owner and former heavyweight champ who pits his wait staff against each other in a -Glengarry Glen Rosslike competish."

Hideous English aside, this sounds promising. Of course, I pretty much think they can do no wrong, so what do I know?


Now this is the movie they should be making.

I'd say I've wasted enough of the gentle reader's time today, wouldn't you? Holla at ya boy!

Oh, but before I go, remember, tonight is The Office season 4, episode 6, BRANCH WARS! OH BOY! Karen's back, and she's bringing Hell with her! What could it mean for Scranton? What could it mean for Jim and Pam!? What could it mean for my sanity!?


KAREN'D!

This is how a baller balls, baller.

I walked home with gills taped to my ankles. I kept thinking that the denim on my jeans was slipping down in the back, like my feet were catching on the bottom of my pants. I did not trip, so I knew I was just imagining it. Who knows how things get into your head? Headologists, I guess. Today is Halloween which means Ghost Hunters Live special on Sci-Fi! Follow the T.A.P.S. team from 9 pm until 3 am!

I wore gym clothes under my regular clothes when I went to class this morning. Young Adam had to cancel our workout though, so I didn't make use of them. When I was walking home, before the fixation on the back of my jeans, I kept thinking I should just peel off my top layer of clothes and put it in my book bag, because I had athletic socks, sneakers, gym shorts and a gym shirt on underneath. Something held me back. Modesty? Hard to say. I kept all of my clothes on and sweated more as I returned home.

Swallowing food is weird, huh? Depending on what you're eating, the food sliding down your throat gives off different tastes, smells, and sensations. I don't like the brine left over from a bowl of pickles. See, I had a jar of pickles, and as the level of pickles began to run low, it was a very imbalanced proportion of pickles to pickle juice. So I poured some of the juice out, too much really. What I'm left with is brine. No pickles. No juice. Just clingy brine with no lubrication to pry it from the glass walls of its prison.

I'm going to hang out with my friend Jeremy this afternoon. He's from Chicago. I once paid him a visit ON THIS VERY BLOG. Well, I briefly wrote about visiting Chicago at least. And then I think I busted on St. Anger for a much longer paragraph.

I was originally going to enlist Davekwon to write this special Halloween blogtacular, but I think I'm fine to do it. I'll get Dave for another time. If you forgot what his previous guest pieces were, there are links here and here.

That's right. I figured out turning words into links with the help of Funky D.

Speaking of Funky D, the trio did end up making the trip to Dayton for the final hip hop night at The Oasis. We left just after midnight, which, according to the song Midnight at the Oasis, probably makes us great fools. Anyway, they were out of everything but Guinness on the taps, so no 80 ounce pitchers to be found. Instead, they were having a fire sale on bottled beer, so we tried a few different ones. It was a fine time.

I watched a SCURRY movie with Davekwon yesterday before we hit the road. It was called Cello and it was crazy and South Korean. I learned that they drive on the correct side of the street and car in South Korea. We should help them. All these backward driving countries... f those guys, right?

In the words of a great closer, Lions and tigers and squares, yeah god.

Why Can't I Just Let Montreal Die?

I composed an E-mail to Mandy tonight about the latest episode of America's Next Top Model, a show that I watch but don't enjoy. It started out as a guilty pleasure, then became actively fun to watch with her as we became friends over the spring and summer. Now, it's a drag. Yet I continue to watch. Why? Hard to say. I don't think my friendship with Mandy is dependent on it or anything. I think about that sometimes though. I want to make sure that my relationship with Mandy isn't just an extension of my relationship with Chops. That's not cool. A shared love of Gilmore Girls will have to suffice.


And why wouldn't it, right?

After an abortive attempt last week, it looks like the KOV + 1 - 1 - Jonathan will finally be making it down to the Dayton hip hop night this week. Designated driver Davekwon ended up having to work last week, leaving myself and Andrew pondering (briefly) the wisdom of going somewhere an hour and change's drive away with the big draw being eighty ounce pitchers. Every once in a while, Andrew will make a joke about me driving somewhere. I have a feeling that he becomes slightly more serious with each passing mention. This would be an unfortunate way for us to both meet our makers.


"TEN O'CLOCK AND TWO O'CLOCK! TEN O'CLOCK AND TWO O'CLOCK!"

I watched WWE's Cyber Sunday pay per view with Keith. It was a pretty good show, with Undertaker and Batista adding another really good match to what is becoming a surprisingly great in-ring rivalry. The only big problem I had with the show was when consecutive matches ended with inconclusive finishes. First, Kane defeated MVP by countout. In the very next match, Randy Orton low blowed Shawn Michaels to get himself disqualified in his WWE Championship defense. Now, maybe I'm wrong and WWE went to an all-shoot format in the last few weeks, but as far as I know, wrestling is still fixed. You'd think that if you were going to do two bullshit finishes on one show, you'd space them out a little bit. Just one man's opinion. If you really need to protect Kane from doing a job for MVP, by all means, have MVP get counted out. Just give it a little time to breathe before going there again. That's all I'm saying. I'm perfectly fine with screwjobs to build to a rematch or something productive. Don't get mad, screwjobs. I still love ya.


Right... okay, maybe not all screwjobs.

I'm as tired as ten year old references to the finish of a wrestling match. Peace outside, y'allz.


Wrestling Analysis = Jenna Fischer catnip.

Ballin' On a Budget

I'm the best... AROUND, nothing's gonna ever keep me down!

For the second year running, I am the winner and champion of the Halloween Movie Marathon. Jason and Andrew made for sturdy competition, but never did I waver in my certainty that I was destined to repeat. Not once did it occur to me that anything less than my eventual success was possible. And at no time was the heaviness of my eyelids any match for the size of my courageous heart. In other words, NapDaddy for the win! I am especially proud of this particular victory, as the marathon has reached a full ten films for the first time in its history, spanning from 5pm Friday until roughly 9:45am this morning. It was sadly not a clean sweep as I came in second in Balderdash this year, but that is a minor quibble. Were I to achieve TOTAL VICTORY, what would there be to shoot for next year? That's right, folks. That ill hat-trick is comin' at ya in the '08! And then I only slept for about half an hour when I got home! Y'all musta forgot!


The true essence of... BALLLLLLLLLIN'!

I am wearing the fruit of my labor as I type this; a fabulously stylish Halloween tee shirt featuring no less than a knife! The Rumba Cafe's female population will surely be all up ons once they detect the presence of a man wearing a kitschy t-shirt. "He sure knows what he's all about," one will say to another. She will just smile wryly and nod as I do some nodding of my own, white boy style, to whatever Funky D's got cookin' on the 1s and 2s. The first, chatty ho will continue, persisting with her opinion that I'm "really together" and have my "own style." The second will nod again, with less of a smile and more of a "is this bitch still talking about the dude in the movie t-shirt?" teeth baring. The one doing the talking is completely insane and way too into my shirt, while the silent partner will have been unfairly prejudiced against me thanks entirely to the first chick's insistence on being a nut job. Maybe I should change before I leave.



No? Okay, cool. Thanks, conveniently placed sign. Anyway, I'm the King of Halloween, and I thought that was well worth mentioning.

Oh, I'm re-using a Jenna pic on Wednesday's entry, just to give you fair warning. I'm recycling, and I DON'T CARE.


New Hotness today though!

Better to be TWOriffic than ONEderful

There is only one thing that could keep me away from Scranton, Pennsylvania for The Office convention. And that is... transportation. HOWEVER, if there were a second thing that could possibly keep me away, it would be Davekwon's Halloween Movie Marathon Ten.


AL ROKER IS THERE GOD DAMN IT.

Yes, it's that time of year again. The time where I sit in Dave's basement and watch what all of the Halloween movies. ALL OF THEM. Even the third one, which has nothing to do with the rest of the series. Though it's a nice Balderdash break to be honest.

Oh hey, did I tell you that D'LO FUCKING BROWN signed with TNA? Now, obviously, TNA is wack for the most part, but I fully intend to watch every episode of Impact from his debut until they completely ruin him through shoddy booking. So, that's gotta be good for at least two weeks, right?


Japanese children are not immune to the fury of the Lo' Down!

Office thoughts for season 4, episode 5, Local Ad. Back to the 30 minute format, but it was just packed from end to end. It's funny how Pam is so willing to chase her dreams, yet Jim, as his Second Live avatar illustrated, hasn't taken any chances on himself. Episodes where Michael shows competence always make me happy, though I'm glad they don't happen every week. In successive episodes now, Michael Scott has displayed first social and then professional capability. And his commercial was AMAZING. Moment of the episode was Michael missing the sarcasm and chastising Darryl for being ignorant of rap: "You need to learn a lot about your own culture. I'll make you a mix." Let's see... what else? It looks like Angela and Dwight are on the path towards reconciliation, which is fine because realistically they're both too weird to be with anyone but one another.


"Oh, D!"

All right, I've got some things to do before the marathon, so I'll see you folks tomorrow, when my hair is matted and I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. Peace!


Where is Jenna Fischer's horror vehicle? A prequel to Slither would be great!