Classic Cartoons Mostly Suck

I’m 9 years older than my youngest sibling. Up until the summer I started college I was fairly abreast of TV cartoon offerings, mostly due to our 1 tv household.

After leaving home I lost touch, and a decade later I got married and became an uncle. One of my nieces loved the Power Puff girls (not Powder Puff, dumbass) and she tried to explain the appeal, but it was lost on me.

Now even further down the line, I’ve got a tween on the cusp of leaving cartoons behind. Since about age 7 or 8 though, I’ve watched what she watched. Fairly Oddparents, The Penguins of Madagascar, the one with the talking farm animals…they are all entertaining. Fairly Oddparents is particularly witty. Yes, I used the word witty.

When I was a kid I had Bugs Bunny (and friends, though everyone but Daffy sucked), Mickey Mouse (the whole House of Mouse super sucked…well maybe Donald was ok sometimes), and Woody Woodpecker (and how gay is that?).
All slapstick, no substance.

I wonder what awaits me as a grandfather. Whatever it is, I’ll probably be watching it on the internet.

Quick Robin, to the Bloodmobile!

Has it been three months already? I guess so. A lady with a four hour course in bloodletting is going to suck my life giving sanguine fluid in just a few minutes. That’s right, I’m donating blood. Free. Gratis. I ask for nothing…except juice and a cookie. Most people wouldn’t bother posting such info, but those are probably "good" people. While I would characterize myself as an overall good dude, I’m not sure I’m "good" people. As a good dude:

If you need to borrow a tool, just give me a call. If I got it, you can borrow it. Torx wrenches, meter key, bunghole wrench…over the years I’ve acquired a number of items that are only useful a handful of times in your life.

You invite me to a party, I bring food or drink. Good stuff too, not the 12 year old can of hominy that we give to the poor for Thanksgiving (that reminds me, time to plan for 2021). With one embarrassing exception, I leave at a respectable time and don’t bleed all over your house.

When you’ve had a few beers and start making cryptic comments about the "lifestyle" you and your wife have, then keep trying to get us in the hot tub…I politely make the excuse that I have to be at work early, saving everyone some awkward conversation in the morning.

I realize I don’t need to be beatified, but on a the douche scale, I’d rate myself as no more than moderately doucherrific. However, I clearly can’t qualify as "good".

One of my biggest faults is perhaps, my deep and abiding dislike of the elderly. I’ve chronicled the reasons before, if not on this blog then the old one. Maybe, I’ll dig up some of the old posts later. Suffice to say, the aged are a drain on society, and I can only hope that we actually get real death panels. If so, I’m applying for that job. Goodbye Mr. Hooper. Shouldn’t have turned 70. I’ll be taking that plug now.

I’m also not exactly charitable. I give a little cash to St. Jude* every year. I run a few 5Ks for charitable causes, though I’m pretty sure there is a Federal Law that 99% of 5Ks benefit breast cancer. The only other thing I do is give blood. In the big scheme, that’s not very much. However, I like to think my red blood cells, plasma, and platelets go to save babies (I’m sure some go to a 3 time DUI convict after a 1 car accident, but I choose not to believe it).

Redeeming qualities, I haven’t many, but this is one of them. I bleed for my fellow man…and cookies.

*As long as your here, go there and donate a couple of bucks. It’s kids with cancer, not politics.

Jack Black Can Suck My Balls

Jack Black. Is an actor. Is fat. Has been funny in the past. Sucks balls now.

I put ‘Be Kind Rewind’ in my Netflix cue when the movie came out. It arrived Saturday. It was unwatchable.

Not in the Wes Anderson style of unwatchable. At least in those films – despite the lack of plot, boring cinematography, and catatonic performances – you get hipster street cred.

I turned it off. It was beyond suck. Not only was it not funny, I got sadder as it progressed.

Mos Definitely the shittiest movies I saw part of this year. It was a giant pile of super suck.

Now you know.

Car Holes

I wonder why we, as a society, don’t paint parking garages. These are the dankest places I visit routinely. The largest cities I’ve driven in (Chicago, Boston, DC, and NYC) all share the same trait.

Ugly garages.

I suppose if you’re meeting a guy with the nickname “Deep Throat” you don’t care so much about the ambience.

However, think how many serial killers might be dissuaded from atrocious acts of violence with a calming coat of pink or powder blue on the walls.

I’ve seen a lot of movies. Bad shit happens in garages. We can fix this.

We should.

Titans in Korean is Spelled Wi Suk Dong

I’m a football fan. However, until my hometown got an NFL team I hardly ever watched pro-ball, I prefer the college game. In fact since I was a Davidson County (Nashville, TN if you’ve stumbled here from somewhere else) resident I voted against the referendum to build the Titan’s Stadium. I have a nasty libertarian streak that makes me want private industry to build their own facilities.

Even so, I have a pair of PSLs (Permanent Seat Licenses – my ticket to buy tickets).

This season the Titans are 0-4. They suck harder than a turbo-charged Hoover in all three phases.

Defense: Sucks.

Offense: Sucks.

Special Teams: Came in right off the Short Bus, they SUPER suck. For them to just suck would take a 73% improvement.

The schedule this year has been heavily weighted with home games toward the end of the season this year. When a team is winning each game becomes bigger, more of an event. Games at the end, when you’ve clenched playoffs and you’re just improving your seed are great fun. When a team is losing…each successive game becomes more of a painful, disappointing time suck.

Not only are losses disheartening, but my ticket resale value has been flushed down the toilet.

This is all a prelude to another shitty list post…sort of. I’ve got suggestions.

My ticket value is gone. I accept that. However, football is a business, an entertainment business. So dammit, I want to be entertained.

Violence: My reptilian brain, can cope with losing better if at some point during the game an opposing player gets injured. Nothing life-threatening, I’m not an animal. But I’m fine with breaking a couple of ribs on an opposing wide receiver coming across the middle. I want to hear 68,000 (well, ok the 50,000 who show up) shouting "Ooooo" in unison. Late hit the quarterback. Body slam a running back. Give me the mental imagery to say, "Well, we lost by 30, but did you SEE Peyton get hit?" I don’t care about the score. I don’t care about the flags. On the jumbotron, after each crushing blow, give me a clip of Ivan Drago saying, "If he dies, he dies."

Ratchet up the violence.

SWAG aka Stuff We All Get: Again, football is a business. Bud Adams isn’t there to give me money. Due to his business acumen, he in fact is getting mine instead. However, that doesn’t mean all the giveaways have to be shitty. I don’t need a damn calendar. I sure as hell don’t need a football card with a picture of Vandenbosch. I’m a straight male in my late thirties. What the hell am I going to do with a collectibles. You know what would be better? How about a Titans flatware set? At each game give me a spoon, a fork, and a knife. Don’t tell me it’s not doable. Some newspaper in Europe had enormous success according to the dude who wrote this book (which I downloaded free). Don’t want to have 50,000 angry fans armed with knives in your stadium? Fine. How about neck/back rub kiosks like at the airport. Have a masseuse rub the tension and rage from my shoulders. Give me a hot dog. Cut the price of the beer. The Titans are crapulent. Distract me.

Give. Me. Something.

SEX: Hells yeah. Cheerleaders on the sidelines are fine when you’ve got a ten win season. When you’re 0-fer, we deserve something more. Ordinarily at the Halloween games, when one of the cheerleaders dresses as a dominatrix, I think to myself, "Maybe that’s a bit over the top." Now is the time, to make that the standard attire for the rest of the year. I’ve bought my tickets. The team is losing. Beer is seven bucks a pop. I’m already getting screwed, this will make it more palatable. I also think the cheer leading staff should be temporarily tripled and each girl required to flirt with the male patrons*…specifically me. Sure, it’s the women, not the team that suffer in this scenario. But when I see boobs, I can’t think about the wasted money and time. I like cleavage, it can be used to manipulate me and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Put on some Colour Me Badd and sex me up.

I don’t expect my advice to be heeded, but I offer it freely. I hated grunge, but Nirvana was right. "Here we are now…"

*Obviously, I’m not a sexist, female patrons that need wooing, should also receive a fair amount of cheerleader attention.

Google Ads

Interesting…if you write a post from your Gmail account containing the title "Dog Poo" you will get an ad for a product called ‘Turd Tape’. A toilet bowl liner that allows you to…er…measure your productivity.

This is almost as gross at that dude who used to post photos of his daily movements.

Dog Poo

Sometimes, when a dog is sniffing around looking for a place to make a number 2…I wait until the moment it’s selected a location and just about ready, then I honk my horn startling the beast, forcing the process of sniffing and walking in circles to begin anew.

This is especially funny when the owner is waiting on the dog in the cold.

PS, I am the kind of guy to honk the horn driving by a golfer in his back swing.

PPS. I’ve been throwing my neighbor’s dog crap onto their porch, since I’d prefer my lawn to be a shit free zone.

I Wanna Go To Your Party

Microsoft is encouraging people to have Windows 7 launch parties. As it so happens I love parties and want to go to yours. Why should you invite me?

How about a list of reasons?

Beer: I’m a cheap bastard, though not disrespectful. I will drink your alcohol, BUT I always start with the cheap nasty shit. I’ll be polishing off your Natty Light, while you drink your uberclassier Microbrew.

Wingman: Did you ever see those Hobbit movies? Nerd. I fell asleep, but I woke up to that little freak talking about ‘His Preshush’. Like him, I’m not a handsome man. He and I could easily pass for brothers. Stand next to me and the ladies will totally dig you.

Nudity: I no longer fear ruining the crease of my trousers in a crowded room. Gone are the days when I remove my pants and ask if you have a spare hanger. Twister will not be an unpleasant experience for your other guests and there’ll be no uncomfortable sounds as my ass skin and sack rub across your leather couch. I still refuse to wear shirts. Fortunately, I recently acquired some Chippendaleesque cuffs ‘n collar. They’re quite the conversation starter. I plan to shave your name into my chest hair to give you some pub. FREE pub.

Bicuri-OS: I own Macs and PCs. I can be condescending when discussing either OS, and will gladly do so. Don’t get me started on Linux though. Linus Torvalds is an uppity douche.

I could probably think of more reasons, but typing on a phone is hard, and why would you need more. Just leave your invitation info in the comments section.

-FW

LADBLDR

Vanity plates. An outward display of both doucheism, and sympathy for the fellow man.

Douchey, because it’s screaming "HEY LOOK AT ME! I CAN COUNT TO SEVEN!!" Which is totally different from blogging, because we assume you know we can count.

Sympathetic, because it gives the fellow drivers, at least the ones looking at the back of your head (and not in the ‘Now this is a great Saturday night!" sort of way), something to do.

We get to decrypt your seven character message.

Today I scored: LADBLDR

Running this message through a special plate decoder algorithm that I wrote and placed in my car’s on board computer, I surmised the writer to tell me:

Lady Builder.

Rejected decryptions included: Lad Bladder, Laid Bleeder, and Lance Armstrong De-Ball Drive.

But what does Lady Builder really mean?

Is the driver (sex indeterminate) a female construction worker? Well that’s kinda lame. Surely she has help. I’ve never seen just a single Mexican on a rooftop. Construction is a team effort. Only an ass would take credit for the work of other, lesser peoples. I refuse to believe this description defines the plate owner.

I suppose the Lady Builder could be a dork, a ‘la Warren, from the Buffy season when Willow went all crazy and tried to destroy the world. Only instead of fully-functional, lifelike, robot women, a real ‘Warren’ would build amateur Real Dolls. Which of course would suck. Have you ever tried molding a woman out of theatrical latex?
A. It’s hard to sculpt the mold.
B. It takes a lot of space and your friends ask questions.
C. The lady at the wig shop seems very judgmental while you try to explain what you need.
D. Real glass eyes are expensive, and those googly puppet eyes at Hobby Lobby kill the mood. Move even a little and there’s a distracting rattle. Or so I would suspect.
I don’t think a sex doll craftsman is the type to call attention to it with vanity tags.

Maybe, LADBLDR is a plastic surgeon. A true Lady Builder. Providing women the cleavage to be confident, the flat tummy to tackle two-pieces, the lifted derrière to display and delight dudes-a-plenty. This is an achievement to crow about. And phenomenally better than some bullshit construction woman. It’s almost like having a super power. Who else can take the wrinkled skin of a middle aged woman and stretch it into a permanent look of surprise? Some don’t like that cougarish expression but I for one love it. I mean how ego boosting is it to unzip your pants and have a woman’s eye brows arch in disbelief? I don’t know first hand…but I bet it’d be cool.

Press on Lady Builder.

Press on.

Brewster’s Millions

I think I have Brewstered myself.

Unlike those who claim to hate or not watch TV, I love it. I love scripted television. I like being told a story.

For years the masses have raved about Lost. I had never seen it. Why? I dunno. But, when I noticed the first 4 seasons were available on Netflix Instant View I decided to watch them.

I did so in 30 days. I watched because of the general public conversation, and because several of the writers (Paul Dini, Jeff Loeb, Brian K. Vaughn) have significant comic book backgrounds. (I still count Paul Dini has a comic book writer, though I guess TV is really his bread and butter).

Without looking, the first 3 seasons were around 23 episodes each, and the 4th season was 14 episodes. Without commercials, thanks Netflix, they were about 40 minutes each.

That’s a little more than FIFTY FIVE hours of TV.

It was exhausting.

What is the Brewster Effect* then?

I went to set Minnie (my Mac Mini used for DVRing, the TiVo died in the spring – it will be missed) to record my stories for the upcoming season.

My list is as follows.

1. Supernatural.

Currently, I am willing to commit 1 hour per week. That is it. Excluding college football on Saturdays, of course.

* Brewster’s Millions is a classic comedy from the 80’s