Killer Steamroller

I'm not sure what it is about bad movies, but I can't get enough of them. Someone mentioned Maximum Overdrive today and I can't stop thinking about it. I must rent it.

I want to fake sick so I can go home and watch it now.

For you poor souls who haven't heard of Maximum Overdrive, here's the dish.

It's a little apocalyptic story about machines that come to life and kill humans when a comet passes by earth. The 1986 flick is written and directed by Stephen King, although after the reviews, King said that would be his only foray into directing. The movie stars Emilio Estevez, a maniac toy semi and an ATM machine that calls Stephen King an asshole.

This winning film even has deaths scenes including a child being run over by a steamroller and a man being electrocuted by his earphones.

How could this little gem not be good?

Hey You Guuuyyyyys

After I don't want to know how many hours without call backs I think I've been blacklisted.

Or is it blackballed?

I wonder if there was ever a pirate called Blackballs.

It would certainly be no worse than One-Eyed Willy.

What the Goonies makers were thinking when they named the pirate One-Eyed Willy? I never really caught on when I was a little kid, but now I feel kind of dirty.

The whole movie was a kid searching for One-Eyed Willy. It sounds like a child molester's dream.

Perverts.

They say our world has lost its finesse

And I think they may be right.

Day two of sitting here, waiting on others and fighting terrible feelings of impotency. I can feel myself getting dumber each minute I stare at the computer....

I'd like to start a conversation but my small-talk skills are lacking and as pointed out during lunch this week, blogging takes away all conversation.

I have no fun stories to tell because I've told them all on my blog. I can't be funny because it takes all my wit to craft each blog.

So I come to the only acceptable conclusion-- the internets is ruining society!

Every day conversations are numbed down to a paragraph-long blog post. Cheerful exchanges are trimmed to a quick e-mail.

Why walk across the office when you can just type out a few words?

The internets is exposing the lazy disposition of humans with the ease of clicking, and sucking out our souls with each gaze at wide-screen illumination.

I may sound like a lunatic, but when the Terminator saves you from Robert Patrick, you'll see that I'm wise beyond years. The internets is lulling us into a brain dead life of drudgery.

Trust me, the Apocalypse is a-comin' and the internets is three out of the four horsemen.

The other is Cracker Barrel.

My Shining Accomplishments

For today, they are none unless you count taking up space and grumbling.

In all my extra time of sitting around and waiting on other people, I am pondering employment in the field of contract killing.

I keep picturing O-Ren Ishii sniping a diplomat from a skyscraper and can't help but think it'd be a fun job.

But I have a few questions before I melt off my fingerprints and buy an arsenal.

Do I need any formal education or training? I'm not so hot on joining the army, but I'm pretty sure a stint in the Foreign Legion wouldn't hurt my chances of getting a $1 million hit.

How do I contact potential employers? I can't imagine stumbling across a hit contract in the want ads and I'm pretty sure employment agencies are out. Perhaps there's a Web page like murderjobs.com or something like that...

What kind of resume should I put together? Should it include body parts and blood? Do I need references?

This sounds like a lot of work, but right now I've got the time.

Adolf, where's my pitchfork?

Some poor, needy, clueless schmuck keeps texting "Kim" at my phone saying he misses her and wants a chance. I am not Kim and don't know Kim.
When the first text came at 3:30 a.m. I thought, 'Ignore it.'
When the second call came at 7:30 a.m. I thought, 'Maybe I should tell him he's got the wrong number...'
But when the third text came I started to think, 'Maybe I should mess with this loser.'
Now I'm at a moral cross road-- ignore this boob or tell him Kim is married, has herpes or is moving to Alaska to work with wild bears (think Grizzly Man)? I'm also toying with the option of giving him a time/date/location that Kim wants to meet him at for dinner and then stopping by to watch the douchebag get ditched.
No one deserves treatment like that, but what kind of guy begs over text message? And what kind of guy -- who likes this girl-- gets the wrong number?
So maybe he does deserve it and maybe I am that evil... Bwahahahahaha!
Maybe I'll go to hell or Karma will seek revenge, but this will be funny.
Where's my phone?

Fun with Typos

I just called Red, White and Boom Red, White and Boob.

Hee hee.

You're Fired, Superman

I am going to start an Internet petition to get Donald Trump to shave his head.
I know it's a good idea because he has bad hair to begin with, but I'm picturing a resemblance to Lex Luther if the Trump would shave his head.
DT is already kind of an ass, but if he looked like Lex Luther he might become a bad ass and that would be good for everyone.
Maybe he would stop those silly feuds with Rosie O'Donnell and start taking over the world and fighting superman.