Archive for March, 2011

Yemeni President resents lack of news coverage

Sunday, March 27th, 2011

A month ago, no one knew who the President of Egypt was, whether he’d been in office for 30 years, 30 months, or 30 days, and – really – that Egypt even had a “President.”* Now, everyone knows that the President was 30 year “incumbent” billionaire Hosni Mubarak, a despised autocrat- and the man who, through his corrupt despotic rule, will soon be known as the catalyst for The Holy Islamic Caliphate of Greater Egypt**.

And how about Libya! Poor Gaffy Duck: the guy renounces terrorism and this is how the West repays him? By backing these seditious bastards who want to “vote”! (“Yechhh: voting is so bourgeois.”) Colonel Gaddafi‘s future self-exile to Saudi Arabia aside, everyone has heard about the fight for “Freedom” (we hope) among common Libyans and it continues to dominate the news. Of course, luckily for the Colonel, one doesn’t really need planes – and apparently he only had 80 – to take back a city from a mötley crüe of disenfranchised bakers, draftees and university students with looted AKs, just as one doesn’t need tanks to successfully take on “militarized” Corollas.

The pro-democratic tumult and consequent balancing of the carrot and stick approach by the a-holes in the “governments” (“ruling regimes,” really) of Syria, Saudi Arabia and even minuscule Bahrain are regularly on CNN, BBC and whatever other news channels you get in your cable package. But not Yemen.

Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh had this to say, “Why no one put Ali in news? Ali beat even Hohhh-snee: 32 years I President! 32!”

While he certainly did beat Hosni’s record as unloved autocratic “President” by a couple years (ruling since 1978), President Saleh has nonetheless seen fit to borrow a page from his ejected contemporary’s playbook with the same predictable results: the average Yemeni protester not being placated by Saleh’s offer to postpone his resignation…until way out in 2013.

“Two, three more years; what the problem?” asked an amiable President Saleh rhetorically. “Ali not such bad guy. Let things simmer, you know? Don’t go to bed angry, I say alwayz.”

Interestingly, while President Saleh seemed relatively cool speaking about his tenuous grip on power, he flared into a raging inferno when the conversation turned to the story’s comparative lack of coverage on the news, “I turn on TV, I no see Ali! I see Hosni, yes, I see the Colonel in Africa- yes, I see, but where Ali? Ali good enough! Where he!? When news lady talk him??”

Rumors abound that the most recent talks between President Saleh and the protesters in Yemen have stalled not due to any issue between them, but until Saleh feels he has satisfactorily seen himself on TV enough.

“Ali go Larry King. Ali go Good Morneeng Amer-ee-ka. Ali go Leno. Ali go Letterman. Ali have many anecdote. Ali interesting dude!” said the embattled President.

“Until then, I kill 50, 100, 1000 bad boys. I do not care. Ali get satisfaction,” vowed President Saleh.

Most nations with running water have issued a travel warning for Yemen.

Go to Florida instead and have a falafel there. No big.

________________________________________________________________________________________
*Floyd R. Turbo (American!) asks, “Don’t they gotsts a, uh, a Mummy-type King? I mean, um, a, ummm, a ‘Pharaoh?’”

**NATO or whatever ball-less organization representing the West at the time will, of course, provide its obligatory waste of time dithering around with no-fly zones and unenforced “dialogue” deadlines.

***for decades political commentators and analysts have been mystified as to why Gaddafi never promoted himself from the rank of Colonel which he held (legitimately) in the army upon seizing power in 1969.

TTT at the movies

Friday, March 25th, 2011

Ah, another freezing Spring weekend. “How do I spend time with loved ones yet avoid speaking one word to them?” you ask? Only one place for that, friend. The ol’Royal Cinema on Main.

“That’s a porno theater now.”

Oh, OK, probably don’t want to take your kids there…um….how ’bout the Cineplex Famous Players Odeon AMC Multi-plex off exit 14? It’s only 47 minutes away. Plus, not only will you not have to talk to your family, you’ll probably end up losing one of your kids in this labyrinth!

Seriously though; we all love the movies. Who doesn’t love shelling out $13.50 to really get to know a fat man‘s elbow and have some greasy suburban kid kick the back of your chair? And that THX sound? Wow! Really hurts your ears!! And the quality is nothing at all like the five-speaker Dolby 5.0 Surround Sound you dropped 3K for to have installed in your living room! All kidding aside, the movies are a great “activity” and the only one that allows you to do no “activity” at all! You get to get out of the house to do the thing you love most: sitting and staring (…and eating). And did we mention friends and family are prohibited from talking to you the entire time by social convention! Awesome. So, what’s playing?…

Battle: Los Angeles

Did you like Independence Day? Then sit back for 84 minutes of pure CGI wizardry. Even though the US military gets its ass kicked by these LucasFilm aliens, it’s gratifying to watch them at least engage a target that they can actually see, instead of those morale-killing IEDs that are still the over the news…or at least at the bottom…scrolling by really fast. Miss it? Oh, you missed it. Yeah, 7 guys died. Whatever, put on Idol! (“By the way, Did we win in Iraq? Have we left? How ’bout that other hellscape? Have the Taliban finally been located by a CIA drone plane and gassed by a C-130 Hercules that they can’t even see?” ‘I don’t know, I’ve been laid off since ’08.’)
The guy from Look Who’s Smoking or whatever is in it. Yeah, that guy. Oh, and, uh, it takes place in LA. Presumably because it was cheaper to just film the thing “down the street.” And people like palm trees.

Rating: ***

Beastly

Think Beauty and the Beast for the 90′s. So, uh, this dude is all superficial and handsome and then he’s made ugly but he has to get some chick to love him despite his nausea-inducing mug.

You probably shouldn’t see it. This is an airplane move for sure. Exception: you are 13 and on a date. (Do kids date anymore? Do they even still say that? “Date”?)

Rating: *

Hobo with a Shotgun

OK, we’ll be honest, we haven’t seen this. All we know about this one is that it stars Rutger Hauer, famous for playing the evilest of the evil replicants from Blade Runner, he has a shotgun and he’s homeless. So, yes, put this on the “must-see” list.

Rating: **** and probably 2012 Best Picture

Just Go with It

Did you see Grown Ups? If you did, William Mattar is leading a class action law suit to get your money back. The same formula is at work here: terrible PG-13 rated jokes, some of Sandler’s comedian buddies, some T’n’A, and family friendly themes about the importance of family and friends. The lead blonde holds your attention from a Perfect 10 POV and they also go to Hawaii and if you’re seeing this you probably can’t afford to go to Hawaii so those are both pluses but, uh, other than that…don’t go.
Billy Madison is turning over repeatedly in his grave with every new Sandler flick. Amazingly, each one grosses 200 mil or more.

Rating: * and only because he was once so much funnier.

Limitless

The handomest handsome man ever from Wedding Crashers and The Hangover confirms his status as handsomest man ever with this being basically the plot of this movie. He goes from zero to hero courtesy some magic pills and lives a fantasy life of cash, broads and cars but – UHOH – his magic pills start to run out! DUH-DUH-DUHHHH! Robert De Niro calls it in as the bad guy. Worth seeing just to see how much fun this pretty boy gets to have thanks to his vunder-peelz, but essentially dumb from a “film” perspective (as opposed to a “movie” perspective).

Rating: **

The King’s Speech

“You haven’t seen it?? You haven’t seen it??? You’re kidding me, right?!” If you’re sick of hearing this from everyone just go see this damn thing. It basically got all the Oscars. Geoffrey Rush, in one of his rare non-retard roles, is some kind of tutor and Colin Firth is, you guessed it, the King (of England). It’s WWII and he has to give a big, important speech to all his subjects. It all comes off well even though he fails to explain how he tolerated Chamberlain so long, and as a result is basically to blame for the rise of Hitler. Better reviews analyze the implied dichotomies between class, aristocracy and commoner, but basically all we have to say is go see the thing so people stop bugging you.
“IT’S SOOOO GOOD!”

Rating: **** we guess, ’cause everyone else seems to say so.

Now, one last thing before you go: DON’T BE A TOMMY TEXTER!
______________________________________________________________________________________

*these asterisks are meant to represent stars. So it got two stars. Yes, the third asterisk was just an asterisk…to bring you down here…to explain how the asterisks are stars…except for this one.

Val Kilmer’s head to explode by 2018

Thursday, March 24th, 2011

Val Kilmer’s head is expected to explode by 2018.

Yes, scienticians – as well as rogue, die-hard Phrenologists, largely aboard floating barge-labs or atolls in international waters – have been tracking the growth of Val Kilmer’s head for years. The craniological community has considered Val its number one specimen ever since Ninfa Haen, a junior craniological researcher at the University of Iowa‘s Department of Head, noticed that Val’s cranial growth was exponentially greater than that of the average human being.* As the now famous (among scientists, anyway) story goes, back in 1991 she was sitting in the non-auditorium seating of a then-new Googleplex Cinema in Des Moines, watching Val’s stunningly doppelganged performance as Jim Morrison in The Doors when she realized that Kilmer’s head since she’d seen it last in Top Gun** (1986) was alarmingly larger. Ninfa watched for a few more minutes to confirm this epiphany-of-sorts – and more importantly to finish her party-sized box of Junior Mints – then rushed out the door, out to her car and sped to her lab.

A mere four months later and her ground-shaking(breaking?) discovery saw Ninfa go from junior researcher and beaker cleaner at U Iowa to full tenured professor at MIT, complete with extended “office hours” (nap time) and H-Clinton she-blazer with leather elbow pads (!)

Today her team, in collaboration with other craniologists across the country, have gathered enough genomic data to plot Val’s cranial growth to its end point: 2018.

Explained Ninfa, “While resistant to hands-on study – indeed, many of my grad students were scratched, bitten and one even gored to death by Val’s powerful head upon approaching him – my team and I have nonetheless concluded our years of scientific study to arrive at this tragic conclusion. Cranial explosion by 2018.”

Ninfa and her team believe that Val either has a geneto-mutated DNA or religiously sticks to a diet of nothing but fried pork. She provided TTT with this sad chronology:

1986: Top Gun – Val in his prime, both career-wise and medically.
Condition in nascent stage*** and therefore entirely un-observable.

1991: The Doors – Val receives critical validation, while role weight loss conceals a critical condition.
Pork ingestion and condition at infantile**** stage of growth. Observable only to a discerning expert in field.

1993: Tombstone – Val’s career progresses nicely, with definitely his coolest role.
Pork ingestion now regularized in diet, condition in adolescent***** stage of growth. Now observable to the more-aware of movie-goers.
————————————-

1995: Heat – Val’s career continues apace, with another seek role. Long hair in role continues to disguise condition from general public.
Pork ingestion becoming a craving of the mind, the effects of which are only mitigated by Val’s still-youthful metabolism. Condition in teenage years,****** still observable only to the those movie-goers watching for it.

1997: The Saint – Val’s career meets its last cool role for a long time. Many disguises of character again help prevent awareness of condition from general public.
Pork ingestion has now become a nightly porklust, and youthful metabolism is all but done with. Condition now in 20s,******* yet still observable only to the those Kilmer-o-philes who’ve been aware of it since ’91.

2000: Red Planet – Val’s career is in a rut with this; one of many forgettable roles in forgettable films.

Pork ingestion now a chemical imperative; condition in 30s******** and coincidentally (or not) at this age the average human’s head begins to increase in size at x2 the earlier speed********* but with his condition Val’s cranial growth quadruples in speed. Now observable to most, except most aren’t in the theater.

2004: Spartan – A blip of excellence with this Mamet piece in his otherwise exiled, nomadic career.
Pork has by this point replaced all other foodstuffs in Val’s diet including liquids; condition in 40s********** observable to most, but most are going to see the second Bourne movie.

2005: Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang – Another role that isn’t voicework or TV, accompanied on this road to redemption in both cases by (co-star) Bob Downey Jr.
Pork ingestion on hourly basis; condition in 50s*********** observable to most, but most are consumed by Brangelina.

2007: Numb3rs (TV) – A TV guest spot; the road to redemption has many valleys. Pork ingestion now Val’s largest expenditure, several pork shops on speed dial. Condition in 60s*********** and observable to everyone, but “everyone” preoccupied with Iraq, certain it will implode into civil war and cursing Dubya‘s name…and the show sucks.

2009: Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans – Val shows up in a deece role with Nick Cage. Condition in 70s************ and observable to all. Pretty good movie and people go, “Holy sh*t, what’s with Val Kilmer’s head!?”
————————————————————

2011 (Today) – The Hollywood press and everyone else is at a loss for words. Some wonder if he’s become an obese Chinese man. Condition in 80s************* and plainly observable, even to near-sighted children.
—–

So, as you can see, gigantisism is no joke. It hurts families. It hurts Iceman.

It hurts everyone.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
*”Homo Sapien,” in nerdy science Gespräch. How early man was a homo yet we are all still here today is a mystery that baffles scienticians to this day.

**Like most of us, at the time she missed seeing Willow (1988), which Kilmer was in.

***a gleam in the eye of some bit of DNA.

****sobby, emotional and incoherent. Loves to sh*t, eat and sleep. Think Kirstie Alley before Weight Watchers.

*****immature yet outgrowing genetic shoes at frustratingly expensive pace. Gets in fight and loses, DNA father beats him, condition later to redouble cranial efforts upon Val as adult in an effort to win amoebic father’s love and respect.

******borrows and crashes genetical father’s car into a cellular wall.

*******searching for genetical meaning, travels some, gets first DUI.

********gets a desk job, marries and spend days looking forward to prime time TV.

*********consider Julia Louis-Dreyfus…watch an early season Seinfeld ep, and then that New Christine show. Wow, eh?

**********fails to achieve promotion. Each miserable year is broken up only by a disappointing budget cruise to the same few DNA Caribbean islands, where pushy genes foist DNA pineapples and chromosome braiding upon condition’s irritated family

***********ornery and balding. Adult-age cellular children hate condition as he did his genetic father.

************more ornery, completely bald and increasingly incontinent. Wife (a balding gene, courtesy Val’s mom) hates cleaning up amoebic droppings.

*************sobby, emotional and incoherent. Loves to sh*t, eat and sleep. Wife has left condition for ameobic retired accountant and moved to cellular Boca. Condition spends its few waking hours cursing absence of Rockford Files on plasma television, or lapsing into senility and searching for it on the DNA dial, thinking it still to be 1976.

God has sick sense of humor

Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011

“Mommy, why does God make train wrecks?

God is one sick ‘sumbitch. Not just for His day-to-day work that we see all the time, like “Epileptic Honor Student Stabbed to Death with Own Epipen,” but His big projects. The CNN-special-segment-worthy stuff. Wars, disaster. Plague, locusts. His core competencies.

He loves to beat up on Haiti, as TTT noted a few months ago when He* was at it again, magic-wanding-up yet another of his hurricane from His usual menu of tropical storms, earthquakes and other Old Testament sh*t that He loves to pick from in order to further wreak havoc on Haiti’s already havoced inhabitants.

God also allowed the devastating 9/11 terrorist attack** on the US, in collusion with Allah (his rage-a-holic cousin; they go bowling with Amen-Ra), overseeing its orchestration by one Mr. (“Meester”) Osama, then had the first soul brother elected to the US presidency just a few years later be named O*b*ama. Oh, that’s President Barack >Hussein< Obama. Recall Saddam >Hussein<, perennial American ally, then perennial American bad-guy and finally pushing up perennials after being turned over to Shi'ite "authorities" in Adidas track pants to be executed***? Yeah, Saddam Hussein. Osama Bin-Laden. Barack Hussein Obama.****

That’s pretty F’d, ITTTO.

“OK. Namegames. Pretty amusing, not really cruel though,” you say.

Well, how ’bout smiting a nation that’s already been smoted twice with nuclear holocaust with a nuclear disaster once again? The only nation – save for good ol’Ukraine and the US, one spozes, in the case of Three Mile Island, PA – to have been cursed with a nuclear disaster? And certainly the only nation to have gotten it twice! (Obv, we are referring to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, where nuclear “holocaust” is more apropo than nuclear “disaster,” though the case that more would have died in a conventional invasion remains more or less sound, numbers-wise.)

Yes, Japan, of all places, is dealing with a nuclear disaster after God sent a tsunami smashing into its northern islands, causing a meltdown at a civilian reactor, Fukushima I nuclear plant. (“Damn! I have the Electric Company card. Trade’ya for St. James Place and New York Avenue? OK, fine, just St. James?? C’mon! It’s crawling with hookers and noones landed there in an hour! Fine. Be that way. Ima BURY you, cock’a’roach. I’m D Jay TRUMP, nukka!” ….too soon?)

The news alternates between 50 brave workers saving the day with an industrial-sized garden hose and the specter of certain impending catastrophe; radioactive food, mutant births in Tokyo etc.

Either way, it’s clear: God hates Nippon as well as Haiti.

And He has one sick sense of humor.

___________________________________________________________________________________________
*God is definitely a dude, because a chick wouldn’t oversee so much mean shit. Lots of gossip and hurtful verbal harassment, of course, even to the point that fatter countries in PayLess Shoes break down crying, yes, perhaps bordering on violence in essence, but not this much pure violence. …A dude or a satyr-type creature.

**also ruining the skyline of NYC. Really. Take a look at a 90s one. …See?

***(haphazardly lynched)

****One Mr. “Baraka” was also a Mortal Kombat bad guy, which though absent any geopolitical irony or irreverent coincidence-y, still nicely caps off God’s sense of humor with this little jest. Trying to usher in socialized medicine when social security is still disastrously underfunded keeps the joke going. Like a bawdy riddle.

Old man bankrupts himself buying commemorative coins

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

“The 5 Cent Indian Head or ‘Buffalo Nickel’, not minted since 1938, can be yours for the low, low price of $9.99! This piece of American history comes in a beautiful commemorative plaque that is perfect for any wall. But wait; that’s not all! Act now and get a second Buffalo Nickel at no extra cost! That’s right! Two historic Buffalo Nickels mounted on exquisite commemorative plaques can be yours now, but you have to act fast! By order of the Vermont Treasury, this deal expires at the end of this month. Operators are standing by!”

Alongside pleas to help feed starving Somali toddlers and save abused animals for only 99 cents a month, these coin ads are a staple of old person television. The History Channel, A&E and the Military Channel all feature these commemorative coin offers during almost every advertising break. A silver dollar with a “rare” bald eagle pattern…for $20. A gold dollar featuring the face of former President James Garfield…for $30. Are they stupid? Boring? A rip-off? Completely and totally ignorable? For most, yes. For an 87 year old widower named Wilmer Doogan? Irresistible.

“I’m a real American patriot, gotdamnit, and when I seez deez special dealz I just kehnt ‘elp mehself,” explained Doogan.

Given that Doogan watches 11 hours of the Military Channel each and every day*, he is literally** bombarded with these coin offers, exposed to approximately 45 one minute segments daily.

Unfortunately at 87, his ability to interpret the marketing message as just that has faded with age…if he ever even did take a critical eye to the glowing promises of advertisers.

“See this one?” asked an eager Doogan, holding forth a cheap tin coin in his wrinkled paw, “This is a platinum dollar with the head of President Taft on it. This is worth hundreds of dollars. I bought twenty of them ’cause they were sellin’em for only $19.99! ‘Chew believe that!?”

The State Mints of NY, VT, OH and NJ did not get back to us regarding our inquiry as to whether they felt that they were bilking seniors, although the CT State Mint did leave a brief voice-mail: “Hello? Toronto, um, thing? Yes, it is a $1 coin sold for $20, as you said, but they also get a very nice plaque. Don’t forget the plaque. Um, thank you. Bye-bye.”

Criminal imputations aside, after years of obsessive buying things have reached critical mass for Doogan. He has so many coins that they are overflowing out of his disowned, gay son’s former room.

“I’ma have’ta start puttin’em in mehfridge soon!” said an amiable Doogan.

However, this is hardly the worst consequence of his TLC-worthy coin addiction…

Doogan is broke.

“I’m nauw’ broke! I’m a practically a flippin’ millionaire witch my ka-lection!” hollered the old coot, “I jus’ gotta get some kinda Jew in here to sort this pile’a heck out! Figure out jus’ how rich I’ehm now.”

Of course, Doogan’s bank has not been appeased by his overly loud assurances that once an accountant valuates his collection he will easily be able to make his mortgage payments again. Currently he is nine months in arrears.

“I went down to the bank and I offered the dame at the teller’s box a GENUINE ANDREW JACKSON SILVER DOLLAR,” explained the withered old bastard, “And she said they couldn’t accept it! Stupid skirt…Hell, that one piece shoulda settled almost my entire debt to them peoples!”

Doogan’s son, Gabriel, was reached for comment at his fair trade organic cupcake shop on the other side of town, where he said, “I dauw care if daddy’s thrown out by the darned SHERIFF’S OFFICE. Auwnestly, he can take all those cockamamie kauwns and live in a tent in the purk. Insensitive ath’ol…”

“Thrown out!?” exclaimed the incontinent hoary skeleton, “Hell, them bastards too thick to ‘cept gold and silver then they kehn ‘AVE my dem’haus! Place is old’az the’ills anyway… I’ll jus’ up and move’ta Hawaii! Getsts me a place right on tha’beach! Or maybe Fiji?”

Added Doogan, “Ya’know, I was stationed there jurin’ tha’war? Yup. Killed me 32 of Hirohito’s Banzai soldiers. Shot’em down jus’ like you’d mow a lawn. I told’em, why, I told’em, NOBODY messez witch da likes’a WILMER S. DOOGAN! And I’ma tell them picky disbelievin’ bastards down at the bank too! …Where’d meh B.A.R. gaut’teh?”

Well, we here at TTT got to admit, some of those coins can be mighty fine lookin’!
_______________________________________________________________________________________
*Doogan claims that he has seen himself on no less than seven different documentaries about D-Day, although the official military record list him as a male nurse in Baltimore.
**the author means “figuratively” – Ed.

Charlie Sheen world’s greatest post-modern philosopher

Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011

Charlie Sheen is all over the news* these days. Of course, our readers already know that he is just livin’ the Hollywood dream, but his noteriety has as of late hit a new high. According to the man himself, he has spent years downplaying and even apologizing for his so-called “self-destructive” alcohol and cocaine-fulled escapades. Well, no longer. Even in the face of the permanent cancellation of Sheen’s money printing machine, Two and a Half Men, because of his increasingly sporadic work attendance record and, certainly, also in part because of his recent denigration of the show’s producers on radio and television, the Platoon and Wall Street star continues to publicly goad his CBS bosses on the airwaves, calling them “trolls” and “losers.”

A talented thespian driven to the end of his patience by meddling, self-interested showbiz suits? Maybe. A spoiled baby with an irrevocably drug-addled chemical makeup, a massively-inflated ego, and, most critically, a continentally out-sized salary of $1.8 million per episode? As much as we here at TTT absolutely love anyone who rocks a genuine, insane Rockstar lifestyle, we are going to have to go ahead and say with a sad emoticon face that the latter is almost certain.**

But the elevation of Sheen from occasional appearances on crappy Hollywood evening “news” shows to full time headliner for the next week or so is not the newsworthy issue here. Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton will get drunk and run someone over and Charlie will go back to occasional mentions. The amazing thing is that Sheen, in his rambling diatribes, actually spouts some very interesting turns of phrase. In fact, university professors across the Western world have confirmed it: he is the next great philosopher.

Said Harvard University Chair of Philosophy, Kennith Fohl, “We have been awaiting a successor to the legacy of Sartre for sometime. Now we have found him. That his origins lie in the parochial world of television only enhances the gravitas of his commentary on the Rousseauian social contract as it exists today. He champions the triumph of the individual over the group. The ferocious immortality of the human spirit. The unquenchable yearning power of the human imagination. Originality over conformity. Art over doctrine. Coke over crack. Most of his utterances are breathtaking. Some are heart-stoppingly profound.”

Nonsensical non-sequiturs from a self-consumed addict? Or the proclamations of a great mind? Well, Kennith and TTT invite you to consider for yourself…

Behold, the intellectual majeste of Charlie Sheen:

It was so gnarly I can’t remember.

Gnarly gnarlingtons.

Celebrate this movement.

I don’t think people are ready for the message I’m delivering.

I don’t live in the middle anymore. That’s where you get embarrassed in front of the prom queen.

It might be lonely up here, but I sure like the view!

“Use” drugs? I use a blender. I use a vacuum cleaner.

Basically they strapped on their diapers.

Got to dismiss these clowns.

It’s a war. And it’s on.

They couldn’t extinguish my pilot light. And that was a mistake.

Imagine what I would have done with my fire-breathing fists?

When I’m fighting a war there’s no room for sensitivity.

This contaminated little maggot can’t handle my power.

I embarrassed him in front of his children and the world.

I look at the game of baseball and I’m reminded of a quote that I wrote.***

Clearly he didn’t bring gum for everyone.

I can’t make up a hernia. That’s just lame.

Bi-polar? The Earth is bi-polar. I’m bi-winning. I win here, and I win there.

Park your nonsense.

Your perimeter’s been breached. You got work to do, bro.

Surprise. That’s what winners do.

I wanted to watch Jaws on the ocean in the dark and be afraid.

Here’s your first pee test. The next one goes in your mouth. No, you won’t get high.

I have a disease? Bullshit. I cured it with my brain.

What’s the cure? Medicine?

Really dude? Really?

Faith is for losers. Hope is for losers.

Bull S-H-I-T.

Sorry man, didn’t make the rules.

Who wants to deal with all the small talk?

Quit hiding, dude. It’s embarrassing. Next subject.

I was banging seven gram rocks and finishing them. Because that’s how I roll.

The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger and Richards look like droopy-eyed armless children.

There are parts of me that are Dennis Hopper.

Work fuels the soul.

Bring me a challenge. Somebody.

I’m an exciting client.

You can’t process me with a normal brain.

I have a 10,000-year-old brain and the boogers of a seven-year-old.

I’m not Thomas Jefferson. He was a pussy.

Everybody has a black belt and carries a gun. I don’t mess with people.

I’m done. It’s on. Bring it.

I’ve been a veteran of the unspeakable.

I literally woke up and it was Christmas.

I’m going to win every moment.

WINNING.

The scoreboard doesn’t lie. Never has.

People can’t figure me out. They can’t process me. I don’t expect them to.

I’m not “‘aw shucks.” Because I’m gnarly.

I’m not taking it. I had to pay for it.

It’s a three-letter word. It rhymes with “why.”

I’m on a quest to claim absolute victory on every front.

Get a job, anyone?

I don’t know, winning, anyone? Rhymes with “winning?” Anyone? Yeah, that would be us.

Where there were four, there are now three.

I don’t have burnout in my gear box.

I have one speed. I have one gear. Go.

We’re shaking the tree. We’re shaking all the trees.

We’re Vatican assassins. How complicated can it be?

That’s the code. And we all live by it.

Why give an interview when you can leave a warning?

Go back to the troll hole where you came from.

What was she doing with a shrimp fork in her purse?

I have real fame. They have nothing.

I am special, and I will never be one of you.

I’m so tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect and bitchin’.

Hey kids. Your Dad’s a rockstar.

If you’re a part of my family, I will love you violently.

I’m just going to sail across the winds of the universe with my goddesses.

You’ve been given magic. You’ve been given gold.

I’m a grandiose life, and I’m embracing it.

I’m an F-18 bro.

I’m not recovering like some pussy.

Dying is for fools. Amateurs.

You should have read the directions before you showed up at the party.

Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.

I don’t understand what I did wrong except live a life that everyone is jealous of.

What’s not to love?

Absolutely nothing, Charlie, absolutely nothing.

_________________________________________________________________________________________
*what else is going on worthy of mention? Mass revolutions in countries you can’t find on a map?? B-o-o-o-ring. Where’s the associated sitcom for that?

**”latter?” The last one. That’s the “latter,” right? Not the “former”? Yeah, the “latter.” The bad one.

***end of thought. Presumably, if he recited the quote your head might explode due to its overwhelming genius.


Copyright® 2010 - The Toronto Thymes. All rights reserved.