Thursday, September 30, 2004

Theater Thursday

Theater Thursday

Theater Thursday, because Mark Prior can go out and pitch three hit ball, strike out sixteen and own the Reds, their families AND their pets, but NOBODY on the team can resist the urge to swing at anything from the nose to the toes, even against the ham n' eggers the Reds threw out there, so the Cubs lose again....

Yeah, we're doing Disney tonight, because those fucking Cubs piss me off so bad I can't even think straight. We're going softball with the Disney....

Everyone can commence to be jealous - Barry & la famille are going to Walt Disney World this weekend! Hopefully the rides will be more exciting than the weather....

This week we have a Mickey Mouse Movie Meme - all about Disney films.

1) What is your favorite Disney film? If it's animated, what's your favorite live action film?

I think Robin Hood's probably my favorite Disney animated flick. It was always my favorite growing up. I've watched it a few times since then. I feel like it holds a mood better than most of the Disney stuff. It still makes me smile.

Of the live action stuff, I think Flight of the Navigator is my favorite. My dad and I went to see it when I was nine, or so. I don't think I've ever seen my Dad laugh as hard as I did when Max, voiced by Pee Wee Herman his own self Paul Reubens, sticks his head out of the spacecraft and calls the fat guy Porky. Plus, it's got a young Sarah Jessica Parker, and you can't beat that.

2) What Disney character is your favorite, and why? Which character do you think is overrated and/or overused? (they don't have to be animated characters)

Donald Duck, yo. Donald's psycho. He's barely got it together. He's a seething pile of rage, and he's gonna pop at any time. I mean, the guy regularly tries to kill his own nephews, and over little shit. Yeah. That's when cartoons were good. When Donald Duck loses a snowball fight and decides to destroy his nephews' ice castle with a cannon? That's good clean fun.

I think of Donald as just a step higher than myself on the rage-o-meter.

And if I walked around wearing only a sailor top and a sailor hat, with no britches to hide the junk, I'd probably be right up there with Donald in the whirling tempest of red rage.

As for overrated or overused?

That there Mickey Mouse rubs me the wrong way. What with his face being plastered everywhere, with his big flower face at the front of Disneyland and his Mickey Mouse Turn Over Choo Choo and his very own club where everybody sings his name.

Annette Funicello shoulda been singing about Donald Duck, yo.

3) Why do you think the Disney appeal has endured so long and been so influential in American film and culture?

They had a good idea at first, and then the money and leverage to buy out or shove most other competitors off to the side.

It's big business. We've got this whole deal where we've got this ridiculously short attention span as a society. Add to that this whole lazy brand name thing we've got going on, where we'll take the brand name entity over the no-name even if that no-name is many times more creative, nine times out of ten. Because it's easier, and we know what we're getting.

BONUS) If you were Walt Disney and you suddenly came back from the dead (or got unfrozen, or had your head reattached, or whatever), what would be your impressions of what the company has made since you "died" (in 1966)?

I never knew the man, nor have I read enough about him to know all that much about him.

But as much as I'd like to think he'd be unimpressed with the softball quality of everything Disney's put out in the past thirty years, I'd say he'd probably be pretty happy at all the cash. I mean, he'd have his own Scrooge McDuck vault of money to swim around in. He did start the whole business, and while he did do innovative things entertainment-wise, and as much edification as he got from that whole entertainment thing, I'm sure the whole dollar thing was an even bigger factor he did all he did.

That's twice I've referred to a Scrooge McDuck vault of swimming money in less than a fortnight.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Redoing the Morbid Wrestlemania V Post

Redoing the Morbid Wrestlemania V Post

Gosh Darn It!

Dag Nab It!

Dad Blame It!


Power blinked whilst I was composing a masterful post about the lives and deaths of professional wrestlers. I took a look at the Wrestlemania V card, held in Atlantic City, New Jersey, on April 2, 1989.

We saw lots of interesting characters, including Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake, who recently caused a terrorist scare in a train station in Boston, but revealed to authorities that the white powder that had been found was actually just his cocaine stash.

We saw Hulk Hogan, who's lately been pimping his daughter Brooke's singing career.

We saw the Ultimate Warrior, who wasn't normal then, but was at least within shouting distance of it...nowadays, he's out beyond the leftfield fence...

But then, there were the deaths. Several participants from that card are now deceased...including, Rick Rude (heart attack), Dino Bravo (murdered, reportedly execution style), announcer Gorilla Monsoon (lengthy health issues), Andre the Giant (heart attack while in France for father's funeral), Owen Hart (tragic ring entrance accident), "Mr. Perfect" Curt Hennig (drug overdose), Hercules Hernandez (heart attack), referee Joey Marella (car accident), manager Miss Elizabeth (drug overdose), special guest Morton Downey Jr, who died of a heart attack in 2001, and The Big Bossman, who died just last week of a heart attack.

Curt Hennig and Owen Hart wrestled each other on that card. Two dead guys. Well, they weren't dead then.

Anyway. Just thinking about it. Wondering how many of those wrestlers I watched way back in the day are gone to the big squared circle in the sky.

It's like George Carlin says...these are the kinds of thoughts that kept me out of the really good schools....

The Beisbol

The Beisbol

Wonderful clear night, last night. Not too hot, not too cool. Not a cloud in the sky. It was one of those rare nights that AM 720 out of Chicago came in clear as a bell up here on the hill. I took the opportunity to sit out on the back of the truck, eat peanuts and listen to the Cubs play the Reds.

I kinda felt like we'd be in for a good game.

Yeah, somehow, future Hall of Famers take even more spectacular dumps when they go out there and take a crap on the field.

At least he hit a couple of guys, to make it a little more fun to listen to.

(At most, he hit a couple of guys...)

Stupid Cubs.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Go Look Here

Go Look Here

Boing Boing's got a helluva a way to waste time at your workplace:

How to make hand shadows....

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

Ashby, with some tips on dining in a formal setting...

On the formal table setting itself:

I have never seen this table setting. Anywhere. If this is the spread your potential employer lays out at the interview, run. He is a supervillain. Toss back those three glasses of booze first, though.

Sunday, September 26, 2004



It's been a lean season for me when it's come to the Major League Baseball. I like to catch four or five games a year, if I can. It may not sound like much, but when you live 3 hours away from the nearest venue, and you find yourself working or moving or doing any number of the other things that seem to clutter up a life, four or five games a year sometimes gets to be a difficult proposition.

I'd hit one other game this year. Back in April. It seemed like last week. It's one of those things where you look at the calendar and you curse because you realize it's September 25, and year's 3/4 gone, and more than that, there's a week or so left in the baseball season. You ask yourself where the time's gone, shrug it off and you keep on digging through a cluttered existence.

It was a good game to go see, if you're only going to catch one this year. We (the group of me, my buddy Steven, and my friends Julie and Jason) got to catch a helluva pitchers' duel. Carl Pavano went for the Marlins, and Mike Hampton went for the Braves on the night after they'd clinched their thirteenth divisional title.

We all met down at Turner Field a couple of hours before game time. We went to get tickets. We weren't able to sit in the outfield, but they didn't have any tickets left. I was a little appalled. Atlanta? Doesn't have tickets in a section for a game? This is the city where my sister was able to walkup and get field level tickets minutes before a playoff game...and they don't have seats in the outfield in a game that doesn't matter?

People were banking that the Braves would clinch last night, instead of Friday. Those folks bought up all the Saturday tickets....

We got seats in the upper deck, and then took a short walk around the stadium, before they opened the gates.

We got to see Braves player parking. Lots of SUV's, lots of big giant pickup trucks. A couple of hummers. And one old model Chevy pickup with a push lawnmower in the back. I don't know why, but I like to think that truck, the one with the push mower in the back, belongs to Braves pitching coach Leo Mazzone. For no other reason than that he seems like the type of guy who would stop on the side of the road to pick up a hunk of metal to get the recycling cash despite the fact that he makes a six-figure salary.

We wandered around the concourse when the gates opened. Steven bought himself a larger, better fitting baseball cap. He moved up to the size 7 3/4. He's got a melon, no doubt. But me and my size 8 dome have no room to speak on the matter.

It was still a while before they'd free people to find their seats, but we were hungry and wanted to be out of the crowd for a moment, so we braved the high prices of the Chophouse, and went to find food there. It was there that we got to wtiness Jason having a curious conversation with the waitress when he ordered a burger, and she quietly warned him away from the choice, saying only that he really didn't want that. He got the cheesesteak instead. We wondered if perhaps Turner Field had exhausted their season's supply of could order a hamburger, but it was partially cut with chopped rat and infield dirt....

We ate. We laughed. We had to wait forever for Steven's food to get there.

We paid. Through the nose, even. We knew we can't buy anything at a Major League game without taking out a loan.

We took a few pictures. We looked into the Braves bullpen, which was empty, save for somebody's ballsack...

We wandered up to our seats. We were high up. Good seats for seeing the field, and for seeing the Atlanta skyline. Sadly, it didn't lend itself to finer photography. Considering that I'm the one taking the pictures, I had two strikes against me when it comes to taking the pictures. But still, a couple more pictures:

These specks are a few Marlins warming up. One of them is Juan Pierre.

The guy who threw out the ceremonial first pitch was Dale Boone, the winner of the Hebrew National Hot Dog Eating Contest.

And, well, it's one of those things that you know's going to happen, but you still never get used to: Finding out just what an 8 dollar beer looks like.

The game itself was quick paced. That cup of Sam Adams cost me not only 8 dollars, but also the entire third inning. I left at the end of the second inning, and got back at the beginning of the fourth. And the beer line wasn't even all that long.

Carl Pavano and Mike Hampton were mowing opposing hitters down left and right. A lot of the Braves were sitting for the evening....Andruw Jones, J.D. Drew, Rafael Furcal. I don't think the Marlins had all of their hearts in the game, having watched the Braves clinch the east the previous evening, and being all but mathmatically eliminated from the wild card race with that same loss.

The game began at 7:05, and finished shortly after 9. Quick game. One of the quicker I've been to in recent memory.

At two hours, the game took only slightly longer than it took for Steven and me to finish talking outside the stadium with Julie and Jason, hashing out the game and figuring out just when we'd all be able to get together again, and then fighting detours and traffic to get to the interstate. The game finished just past nine, and it wasn't until right at 10:40 or so that we made it to the interstate. (My normal route of retreat was blocked off, and I was made to wander in weird directions....)

It sounds like I complain, but I don't. It was a good crowd that made it out to the Saturday game. Atlanta fans bug me, sometimes, with the apathy they display toward a team that succeeds so often. But the ones who do show up to the stadium have a good time and are fairly knowledgeable of the game. So, I don't mind having to sit in traffic too much.

All in all, we all got to see a good game. We had a good time.

We'll have to do that all again.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Theater Thursday

Theater Thursday

Theater Thursday, because I'm now 2 days late, and several thousand dollars short.

Week 18 - The big screen.
The very first movie I ever watched on the big screen was Home Alone. Now that cute litle boy is being arrested for drug charges.

Do you remember your first time?

1. Do you remember the very first time you watched a movie on the big screen? Describe it.

I remember seeing a few on the big screen when I was little, but don't really remember the experience...Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark (which scared me stupid), and The Great Muppet Caper.

But the one movie I remember seeing on the big screen, where I remember the whole experience, was Return of the Jedi. I was 6. My Dad took me and my cousin David to a theater in the mall in Bristol, Tennessee. We were up there visiting my grandmother at the same time, and I think David and I were raising so much of a ruckus that there was a mandate to get us out of the house.

I remember David telling us all that he'd heard about it...among the things that were untrue, that Yoda would fight with a lightsaber (which, sadly, came true a couple of decades later), and that Han Solo would shoot Darth Vader.

It was awesome. I remember the whole Sarlacc scene most of all. It still stands out in my mind as my sentimental favorite sequence in all the Star Wars movies. It's Luke acting a Jedi. It's Leia (in bikini and all) strangling a Hutt. It's Boba Fett getting eaten by a giant whole in the ground.

The sarlacc was the basis of my unhealthy fascination with garbage disposals, a preoccupation that has plagued me my whole life. I hunt and peck on the keyboard because typing correctly is really difficult when you have only 3 fingers.

2. What was the last movie you saw on the big screen?

I saw King Arthur the other night at the $2 theater. Mostly for the Keira Knightley.

The Keira Knightley was good.

The rest of the movie wasn't worth two turds on a cracker.

3. Did you ever like a movie so much that you paid to watch it more than once? If so, what movie?

There are a few. I ended up seeing Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and Spider-Man 2 twice, but only because they were part of the all-night Labor Day show at the Midway Drive-In.

Pirates of the Caribbean I saw three times. I saw the first two Lord of the Rings movies a couple of times. Star Trek: First Contact. Christmas Vacation.

I was, and still am, a huge Batman fan. So I saw the 1989 Tim Burton Batman four or five times. It played the whole summer at the Plaza Twin Theater in Athens. I saw it a few times there, plus once at the aforementioned Midway Drive-In.

BONUS) How much does a movie ticket cost in your neck of the woods?

I guess we're lucky down in Southeast Tennessee. You can still go at night pretty cheap. If you hunt, you can still find a night time ticket for $7, though the better theaters are up around $8 and creeping up toward $9.

Of course, my favorite theaters are still the second run theaters, where you can go for a couple of dollars, any time of the day. I'm kind of stingy with the money, sometimes. And there are a lot of movies that I'm not willing to spend $8 to see. King Arthur was one of them.

A Couple of Saturday Thoughts

A Couple of Saturday Thoughts

Just a couple more things that are on my mind before I go wandering into the weekend:

I taped "Lost" on ABC the other night. Wednesdays are busy, lately. But I got intrigued by the ads over the summer for the new show, so I gave it a tape. I was also intrigued by Bill McCabe's comment on the show the other night.

I gave it a watch this morning. A plane breaks up in the air, and the remains come crashing to a tropical island. They're way off course. The survivors huddle together, and there are very large things in the woods that chase them, and pluck pilots out of cockpit windows when they look out to see what's moving in the woods.

Very interesting. Jurassic Park Island? Maybe they've stumbled into the Land of the Lost....

I liked the first episode, though I hope for a satisfying payoff, when it comes to answering the question of what's in the woods....

I'm heading to Atlanta this afternoon. We're going to catch the Braves and Marlins. I've hit one other major league game this year. Coincidentally enough, that game was also the Braves and Marlins.

The Braves clinched the division again last night. 13 times. Wow. It's hard to remember the Braves of my youth...the team with the powder blue uniforms who struggled mightily to win 60 games in a year. The team that couldn't draw flies. The team where if you brought a bat and glove with you to the game, they'd probably let you play after the seventh inning stretch.

But they've been doing this since 1991. There's a lot of credit that needs to go to both John Schuerholz, the general manager, for making so many great deals and pickups, and also to Bobby Cox, who cemented in my mind his place among the great managers, for guiding this team, with less talent on paper, and with a crazy number of injuries early on, to the N.L. East pennant.

I didn't know how they were going to do this year. I was like most. I didn't think they'd win the division. I figured they might win 85 games, and be a factor. I knew they had a lot of scrappy guys on offense who would wear opposing pitchers out by working a full count or close to it nearly every time they were up at bat.

But I didn't think they had the pitching. Beyond the first couple of spots in the rotation, or in the bullpen with the exception of John Smoltz. It's easy to think that when you let names like Maddux, and the year before, Glavine wander off to other teams.

But the Braves won again. And they did it the scrappy, manufacturing runs kind of way that I appreciate. That I envy, for a certain team that plays on the North Side of Chicago.

But I digress.

Heading down tonight. Because baseball kicks so much ass it ain't even funny.



Mark Evanier has a note on his blog.

He and Sergio Aragones have negotiated to sell the movie rights to their character Groo the Wanderer.

Groo's a favorite of mine. Silly stuff. I gotta be in the right mood for it, but it'll make me laugh.

Mark's voicing of concerns over an unfaithful adaptation of the character made me laugh:

Having poured large chunks of our lives into the comic, we were not about to hand it over to someone else who might think, "Hmm...the Olsen Twins are hot. Maybe Groo could be two blonde ladies."

It's a while away, Mark says, before Groo will see the big screen, if he ever does at all. Still, as far as my fantasy casting would go: I've always kinda thought Brendan Fraser might make a good Groo, but I'm probably channelling too much Encino Man or George of the Jungle. Oliver Platt, in full on Ready to Rumble mode, might make an interesting choice, as well.

And Alan Ruck would play Rufferto.

Thursday, September 23, 2004



Today's Earworm: "I Want To Break Free" by Queen.

Got a little busy today. Had a short doctor visit this morning before work, then had work, at work, and then I goofed around after work. I did many things, and did everything at different paces. But it all was performed under the shadow of an earworm that's never passed my way before.

When I woke up this morning, I sat down to jot an idea I got from a dream down. To give myself a couple of minutes worth of focus, I put on my earphones and pushed play on the tape player.

I found an old Queen tape last week, and put it in the tape player. I wasn't sure the tape would even work, but it did, and it's what I've been listening to as I get ready for work in the morning.

I put on the earphones, and plugged them into the tape player. I focus better if I have the earphones to blot out all the other noises (flatulence). So, I put on the earphones, and Queen's "I Want To Break Free" was the song that played in the brief amount of time it took to write down the dream/thought that I'd had (hint: Colt 45=Smooth).

And ever since then, through everything I did today, I've had that song (God Knows) playing in the back of my head.

The worst part? It's not even the words. It's the background beat, and the guitar solo, more than anything.

Well. I'm going to go listen to the song as many times as it takes to wash out of my head. I kind of think of the earworm think like a cup with water in it. And you've got a little bit of water running around in the cup that is your head, in the form of an annoying song. And the way you get rid of that water song is by pouring more song water into your brain. Only then can it be great.

(BSTommy needum sleep).


Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Wednesday Morning Star Wars Thoughts

Wednesday Morning Star Wars Thoughts

I didn't rush out to buy the Star Wars DVDs yesterday. I suppose I'll pick them up at some point. I'm not righteously indignant at the further changes. I'm irritated, yeah. But I take the good over the bad. I'll get them some time.

I do get pissed at Mr. Lucas, though. I read his comments last week, where he said he's sorry that the fans liked a half-done movie, but he's the one who's got to take it when people throw stones at his creations, and if they're going to throw stones, he's going to have them throw stones at something he's happy with.

Not that I buy that particular line of bullshit.

But even if it were true, I guess that's the difference between George and me. See, if I'm George Lucas, and I've got this whole Star Wars thing going for me, I've got one thing to act as a buffer between me and those who would throw stones at me or my creations.

It's called billions of dollars.

People want to gripe about my movies? Fine. Let them gripe, and then let them go work their paid by the hour jobs and live for the drunken bliss the weekend will bring (I obviously confuse George Lucas with "the Million Dollar Man" Ted Dibiase). But if they want to gripe, I'll go take a swim in my big Scrooge McDuck swimming pool full of gold coins, and afterwards, I'll dry myself off with the Bayeux Tapestry, which I bought with my billions of dollars. And then, when I get hungry, I'll make a big old Money Sandwich (made with 20's, 50's, mayonnaise and oregano), drink all the beer a billion dollars will buy, and laugh my way to the bank. That would make me get over any of that uneasiness.

But, in the end, it's just about that billions of dollars. And how Mr. Lucas wants more. I'm fairly sure that one day, we'll get the originals out. Probably when Lucas wants to buy Turkey. (the country or, perhaps, every turkey in the world, so that only he and he alone might eat them.)

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

He So Funny

He So Funny

Mike Toole, on a close encounter with John Kerry:

He was thisclose to me. I could have punched him or slapped him or licked him or head-butted him or pulled his hair or did that thing where you go "got your nose" when in reality it would just be my own thumb but I'd pretend it was his nose or I could have done that thing where I say "What's this?" and then I put my hand behind is ear and make it look like I pulled a quarter or a nickel from behind is ear.

But I didn't. Stupid Secret Service. Those guys take their jobs way too seriously. I was like, "Dudes, why do you care so much? It's not like he's the president. He's only running for president. Big difference, assholes."

TV Tuesday

TV Tuesday

TV Tuesday, because marsupials scare Christopher Walken (because they're fast).

Week 24 - Spin off's
A great show never dies, it simply spins off into new shows! LOL This week we'll take a look at the ever famous spin off syndrome!!

1. What's your favorite all time spin off? Which show did it spin off?

The Andy Griffith Show came out of a single episode on the Danny Thomas show. It's one of my favorite shows, so I guess it counts.

It's hard to discount Frasier. I stopped watching after Niles and Daphne got together, but for a while there, it was among the best on TV.

2. What do you consider the worst spin off ever? Why?

I don't know if you count Star Trek: Voyager as a spin off, necessarily, but I sure did hate it. It just failed to capitalize on so many storytelling opportunities in favor of pandering to what they thought the audience wanted, with all the Borg appearances and half-assed action stories. It bugged me very much that they never told a good story about the philosophical conflicts between the Maquis crewmembers and the Federation people.

3. Is there a show that's ended that you wish they'd done a spin off for? Which one?

No. I'd be open to suggestions, but I can't think of any specific character or situation that I really wish I'd seen more of.

~Bonus~ If you could "end" your current life and make a spin off of it what would you call it? What would be the theme (characters new and eliminated, changes you'd make)?

I'm not sure how to go about that. Does the focus of my life become a whole other person? Like if the story of my life went off the air, and then, it became about my friend Bill? Would he move to Seattle and start a radio show?

Or, did I walk off stage left? Since I left Murfreesboro, the Murfreesboro Show is now about Gunny?

I dunno. What would I want it to be about? Bees. Lots of Bees.

Or, there could be a separatist movement based on my dealings with the Cardassians, and a new BSTommy Starship could chase a band of those separatists into The Badlands, and the two could be hurled across the galaxy, and they'd have to work together to get back to this side of the galaxy. And they'd fight the Borg, and bees.

And it would star Eliza Dushku. And also Gunny. And Michael Dorn, as Capt. Worf.

Monday, September 20, 2004

It's a Slow News Day in Ahmedabed

It's a Slow News Day in Ahmedabad

It's a slow news day in my neck of the woods. When things are a little slow over in my corner of Tennessee, I get to looking to Ahmedabad. Because they have different concerns there.

Where things are apparently a little slow, there, too:

Top Stories

Monday September 20, 5:55 PM

Of a poor fisherman and vengeful crows
By Indo-Asian News Service

Ahmedabad, Sep 20 (IANS) Crows know how to take revenge, as a fisherman in a Gujarat village has learnt at some cost.

Ramanbhai of Itawad village in Vadodara district, 180 km from here, is being harassed by crows after he killed some of the birds.

According to reports, the fisherman claims innocence in the matter.

He said he dried fish by sunning them on his terrace, but the crows were devouring the catch.

With his only means of income threatened, Ramanbhai sprinkled some poisonous liquid on the fish a few days ago and left the catch spread out at the usual spot.

The move was successful. A number of crows died, but the young fisherman had got more than he bargained for.

Reports said the crows attacked Ramanbhai as soon as he stepped out of his home the next day.

The attack continues even several days later, despite his trying to appease them by throwing dead fish.

But the crows are unimpressed and continue to descend on him noisily whenever he is outdoors.

Villagers, too, have tried to help the young man, who has been reduced to protecting his head with a utensil every time he steps out.

To me, it just goes to show how we're all the same.

This all reminds me of how one time, I was drying these fish that I'd caught on my terrace, and I caught these crows devouring them.

With my only means of income threatened, I sprinkled some poisonous liquid on the fish.

A number of those dirty crows died, but I got more than I bargained for.

The crows attacked me thereafter any time I left the house.

The attacks continued several days, despite my attempts to pacify those dirty crows, by throwing bits of dried fish to them.

The crows were unimpressed, and they would continue to descend on me for many days.

Villagers tried to help me. I was forced to protect my head with a utensil (KFC Spork) every time I went out.

I got the crows to leave me alone by refusing to take a shower. It really pissed off Colonel Potter and Margeret "Hot Lips" Houlihan. They attacked me and Dr. Hunnicut with water and soap. And then they crushed Major Winchester's French Horn. And Klinger was dressed up like a girl!!!!!

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Snapper: What You Need To Do Today

Snapper: What You Need To Do Today

Do you know what you need to do, today?

First, you need to stop picking at that thing. It'll never heal if you don't leave it alone.

Second, you need to go visit a couple of sites on this here "internet."

The first, is Damn Art Diary, blogged by a fellow member of the Rocky Top Brigade, Rex Mundi. Go look at his words and his art. Good stuff. It's a site, lately, I've come to visit four or five times a week. Lots of good stuff.

The second site is for his short film, Snapper. I was lucky enough to be sent a copy of this fine short film effort. An auteur is born.

Check out the site.

It's 11 minutes of hilarity. I laughed out loud. To me, that's the highest compliment one can give.

Lastly? Would it kill you to take a shower? I mean, you smell like barbecue smoke, but we haven't grilled out since Friday. Act like a grownup, and go take a shower. I can smell you from here.....

Rehashing an Old Joke

Rehashing an Old Joke

It's September 19, and that means it's "Talk Like a Pirate Day."

Last year, I played along. And in the process, got a really nasty series of e-mails from some Brit who named themselves after a Lord of the Rings character, taking me to task for comparing that form of piracy to the piracy where guys in boats or trucks attack and kill in order to take I'm supposed to take an elf seriously, or something. It was my first international argument.

So, in the name of pissing off pretentious British elves everywhere, I talk like a pirate:

"Today, I think I'm going to take my video camera to a movie theater with me, tape the movie, make copiesof it, and then sell the bootleg copies for a lot of money. I think I'll get some popcorn, while I'm at the theater."

Baseball Thoughts on this Sunday Morning

Baseball Thoughts on this Sunday Morning

Well, we wake up this very, very nice fall morning to some sad, sad news. (Stream of Consciousness moment, I just re-read what I'd written and saw that I'd done the adjective, adjective thing twice in that sentence. I apologize.)

Anyway, the Cardinals secured a playoff spot by winning the Central Division last night. Stupid botards. When I left the house last night to watch the Tennessee/Florida football game at a friend's, the Cubs and Reds were just getting started. During a commercial break in the football game, I was able to see that the Cubs had opened up a 4-1 lead on the Reds.

The bottom fell out, apparently. The Reds put five across the plate against Mr. Maddux. Sammy's solo shot apparently didn't score the two runs, later in the game, that he thought it would.

Which reminds me that I got lent Moneyball. I started reading it at lunch yesterday. I'm flying through--it's a really good read. I found myself identifying and appreciating very much the Sandy Alderson philosophy on offense, especially the bit on how every player should have the capability to both get on base, and hit home runs. As a Cubs fan, this "manufacturing runs" concept is one so alien it might as well be written in Martian. Sammy Sosa's brain would collapse were he in the A's minor leagues at the time Alderson was running things there.

Apparently, it ain't as Mr. Sosa's (and many other Cubs, up to and including their manager) believed: that a run ain't worth scoring unless you've driven it out yourself.

You mean it's okay to walk, or possibly hit to the opposite field for a single, or (Wonder of Wonders) Sacrifice in a run?!?!?!?!?!?

But back to my original point, congrats to the Cardinals. They've played smart baseball the whole season through. Because of that, since the All Star break it was pretty much not a question of "if" the Cards would win the division, but rather, "when."

Now we gotta see if the Cubs can play with the Giants and Astros the rest of the way, or if the sudden drubbing they got in the sixth inning last night will spin them into another spiral of back wrenching whiffs and idiotic baseball. It doesn't take much with this team. They can lose four in a row faster than you blink.

Next weekend, the plan is to head to Atlanta, to catch one more ballgame this season. I've seen woefully little this season, what with the move and the work and the other crap going on. But I do want to catch just one more game.

Friday, September 17, 2004



Sci-Fi fans, Roscoe Ellis is taking a look at one of my favorite Sci Fi stories of any medium over the past couple of years.

Roscoe's look at Warren Ellis' and Colleen Doran's Orbiter.



And I bid you a soggy good morning.

The remnants of Ivan stomped their way through my little town yesterday and this morning. It had been downgraded to a tropical depression by the time it hit the Tennessee state line. So, we got little wind, but we got a lot of rain. Upwards of eight inches up at my house, since about this time yesterday.

All in all, not bad. Definitely not as bad as it could have been, and most assuredly nowhere near as bad as the folks had it down in Alabama and along the Florida panhandle. But we've got flooding in the area, with a few trees down, and a couple of rock/mudslides down in the Southeast corner of the state.

The worst part for me, I guess, is the look that the dogs give you when you tell them to go out and take a whiz, the look that says "you first," or like they want you to go out and take that whiz for them.

All of which reminds me of the time I used the George Carlin joke on somebody at work. They said "I'm gonna go take a piss."

I said, "Don't take one of mine."

And instead of everybody laughing, I got that shake of the head in sad wonder from everybody.

It was far from the applause that I'd been hoping for.

But that's neither here nor there, is it?

Anyway. We're still here, in the lights. I was fairly sure we'd lose power up here on the hill, even if it were only rain. Usually, if you sneeze too loudly up here, it'll knock power off for a couple of hours, so I was fairly sure that Ivan would kill the power quicker than Apollo Creed. Aside from a blink or two, we've got lights, TV and food refrigeration.

Well, that's all I got this morning. Going to wander out into the mess here before long. Y'all have a dry one.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

How the Presidents Died

How the Presidents Died

Here's how the Presidents of the U.S. (prior to my birth) died.

1. George Washington (pneumonia)
2. John Adams (old age, heart condition)
3. Thomas Jefferson (alcohol poisoning)
4. James Madison (Syphilis)
5. James Monroe (Syphilis)
6. John Quincy Adams (Bear Attack)
7. Andrew Johnson (Poultergeist)
8. Martin Van Buren (Syphilis)
9. William Henry Harrison (Stupidity)
10. John Tyler (Still alive, and living in Wahoo, Nebraska)
11. James K. Polk (Spider Attack)
12. Zachary Taylor (Assassinated by the Yakuza)
13. Millard Fillmore (Syphilis)
14. Franklin Pierce (Frightened to Death)
15. James Buchanan (Beaten to death by midgets)
16. Abraham Lincoln (Oxidation of vital organs)
17. Andrew Johnson (Syphilis)
18. Ulysses Grant (Died when an alien burst out of his stomach)
19. Rutherford B. Hayes (Drowned in a vat of mustard)
20. James Garfield (Still alive, in the music of Johnny Cash)
21. Chester Arthur (Choked on his mustache)
22. Grover Cleveland (Syphilis)
23. Benjamin Harrison (Syphilis)
24. Grover Cleveland (Syphilis, already)
25. William McKinley (Killed by Duncan McLeod)
26. Theodore Roosevelt (Still serving as U.S. President)
27. William Taft (Died in an attempt to become the world's fattest man)
28. Woodrow Wilson (Syphilis)
29. Warren Harding (Died laughing at his own middle name)
30. Calvin Coolidge (Syphilis
31. Herbert Hoover (Beaten to death by clowns)
32. Franklin Roosevelt (Assassinated by Daddy Warbucks)
33. Harry Truman (Eaten by monkeys)
34. Dwight Eisenhower (Ripped to shreds by the Incredible Hulk)
35. John F. Kennedy (Oxidation of vital organs)
36. Lyndon Johnson (Syphilis)
37. Richard Nixon (Syphilis)

Ivan and Al

Ivan and Al

Do you think that the Today Show's Al Roker, as he stands in the hurricane winds of Ivan, wishes that he hadn't lost all that weight?

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Home Remedies

Home Remedies

On a truck ride to transport a stove to a new home, we were discussing remedies for every day maladies.

My cure all?

BC Powder.

Headache? Take a BC Powder.

Sore back? Take a BC Powder.

Cancer? Take a BC Powder.

The Blahs? Take a BC Powder.

Steak Fingers? Take a BC Powder.

Bloviating Ovaries? Take a BC Powder.

But here's the thing.

Open the wrapper like you would if you were going to swallow the stuff.

But instead of swallowing, snort that stuff up. You might want to take two powders, one for each nostril.

Now, it won't necessarily make what you're worrying about go away.

But it'll give you a whole new, much more immediate and intense burning pain to worry about.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004



You know, I think it's stuff like this, a safety switch for car windows that protects those children selected by nature to get chopped up by car windows, that makes it so that we have not one, but TWO, wife swapping reality shows on television.



This is what I get for making that crack about God trying to give Florida a hint with the hurricanes.

Come Friday, I'll likely be knee deep (maybe literally) in the watery, windy remnants of Hurrican Ivan.

Unless I do something to entertain, and not anger the Good Lord.

I wonder if he wants I should sing from "Annie...."

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

A miner wanders into the old west town after spending a year in wilderness pulling gold out of his mine. After cashing in his year's work, he heads to the nearest saloon and orders a bottle of whiskey. After several drinks he motions the bartender over to him.

"Hey bartender, you got any women here that would want to be, you know, intimate for a price?" he says under his breath.

"Nope" says the bartender. "All we got is 'Ole Joe' out back"

"I'm not into that crap" says the miner and storms out of the bar in a huff. A year passes by and the miner comes back into town, cashes in his gold, and heads back to the same saloon and orders a bottle of whiskey.

As he drinks it he says to the bartender "Hey, did you ever get any women in here"

"Nope" says the bartender, "but we've still got 'Ole Joe' out back"

"I don’t go for that crap" says the miner and starts to leave but stops in his tracks and turns back o the bartender. Pondering his two year lack of intimacy, the miner says "Now, if I went out back with 'Ole Joe', whose going to know about it?"

The bartender scratches his head and ponders the question for a moment. "Well there'd be you, me, Ole Joe of course and Bart, Red, and Pete."

"Whose Bart, Red and Pete?" says the miner.

The bartender replies "Oh those are the three guys holding down Ole Joe. He don't go for that crap either."

Monday, September 13, 2004



I got to looking at what I've done on this blog over the last little bit, and there's been a real lack of writing and posting for Big Stupid Tommy. I don't know if an apology is in order, but I do apologize to anybody who's wanted to read, but come back to find the same thing that was up last Thursday.

I don't know that an explanation is necessarily in order, but here goes all the same:

The primary reason is scheduling. I'm working days again. And, unfortunately for the blog, I don't have one of those jobs where you can look at a blog or write something down to post if you have a spare moment. Sometimes I wish I did, but there are other benefits to not sitting at a desk all day, as well.

The secondary reason is one of priorities.

I've said it a couple of times. I started this blog as a way to prime my writing pump. I was wandering around saying "I'm a writer," but I wasn't getting much done. I started writing here as a way to make myself write a little. To get myself started in the mornings, or in the evenings. To get my writing motor warmed up. To get a few words out on the page, consequential on non-consequential. I figured if I had an audience, even if it were a couple of friends and family members, it'd make me write something down.

I did so under the belief that writing something is better than writing nothing.

And it's helped me get back into a writing routine. In that regard, blogging's been a good thing.

Problem was, there were some days that the only things I was writing were for this blog. Which isn't a bad thing, but it doesn't do a lot toward finishing a project with a defined set of goals, with starts, finishes and all the fuzzy bears in between.

And for a while there, back in the spring and early summer, writing for Big Stupid Tommy was the only writing I was doing. For a long stretch of time. Part of it was preparing to move. But part of it was just laziness. And for that, I apologize.

So, I've backed off on the blog a little. Not entirely. I still post things. In spurts. Last Thursday I posted 6 things, which is more than I've posted for a couple of week-periods lately.

But, I've been writing on other things. Short stories, mostly. But there are a couple of things that have bouncing around in my head that I haven't quite been able to set to concrete. It's kind of like when you know you have to sneeze, but it's just not quite ready to pop out of your head, yet. Sometimes, you can lean your head back, and it will come. Other times, you just have to let it come on its own.

And lately, it's come on it's own.

I'm still around. I've lost a few readers over the past few weeks, judging by the drop in daily hit counts. That's the ego part of this whole blogging thing. And, I'm sorry to say, I was sad to see that I got more hits from people looking for boobs or pictures of Tommy Lee's private parts than I did actually reading.

The last reason is one of apathy, I'm sorry to say.

There's just not been a lot going on in my life or in the world that I felt compelled to comment upon.

In my life? I sleep, I eat, I work, I write. I take a dump twice a day. I watch Netflix movies. I see my friends. Not a whole lot interesting going on right now.

In the world? I'm sick to death of the presidential election. I don't feel that either candidate's much better than the other in terms of my own political views. And the santimony and derision with which each side comments upon the other only serves to turn me off of the political process in general. I suppose it's the result everybody having been raised in an environment where we had a visible, known enemy. Now, sometimes we have to set ourselves up as the good guys and name somebody else as the bad guys, just so we have a reason to keep going.

I watch Hurricane Ivan's progress with a detached fascination. I love disaster movies, but disasters, not so much. I do find myself wishing that these reporters the networks and news agencies set up in the winds of a hurricane get sucked out to sea. Here, let's ask the fishermen and women with 19 kids who live in the shanty town outside Kingston how they feel about the 155 mile an hour winds coming through.

I don't get to watch much baseball. Part of it is that I live too deep in the sticks to get cable, and too deep in the forest to get a clear line of site for satellite. Hence the rant Saturday. Fox is the only baseball I get to see, and if there's not Fox Baseball, then there's no baseball for me.

A couple of people mistook my rant for ignorance that baseball is shown on other channels, and that the Fox daytime exclusivity clause doesn't apply some days. You get that a lot when you call your site Big Stupid Tommy, people wanting to explain how it is.

My rant, folks, was that baseball is doing such a horrible job promoting itself in the time of the season that it should be making its biggest push for it. We've got tight races, a couple of players closing in on record numbers (Barry and Ichiro, for a couple). This is something baseball should be falling all over itself to promote, at the expense of local telecasts.

It was doubly appalling to me that I didn't have baseball on Saturday to see. Pennant stretch run, and no baseball. I maintain, a mistake on the part of Fox and Bud Selig, and further proof in my mind that the farther away baseball gets away from either, the better off it would be right now.

But I digress.

Football season started this weekend. The Titans won. I stunk it up in my pick'em league. The first week is usually pretty bad for me, since I pay very little attention to the off season news and the pre-season movements. This offseason, I paid even less attention. Hence, I stunk it the hell up in the pick-em league.

And, lastly, I'm officially tired of hearing about that guy who cut his arm off to get out of under the boulder. Do NBC and the publishing company of that guy's book fall under the same corporate umbrella? He's been on every NBC show known to man lately.

My solution to that whole hiking/boulders falling on you problem? Don't go hiking where boulders might fall on you. In fact, don't go hiking at all. Do your exercise like I do, riding the stationary bike in front of the TV, watching an episode or two of Futurama or The Simpsons. No boulders falling on me. Brain cancer, from the TV, maybe. But I'd have gotten that, anyway. And I'll just cut that out with a steak knife.

It's not like I'm using it, anyway.

And then I'll be on Oprah.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

This Afternoon on Fox

This Afternoon on Fox

Got home from yard salin', and I settled in with my Turkey sandwich made by the nice folks at Subway, and I looked at the TV schedule.

This afternoon's lineup:

1:00 Infomercial
1:30 Movie: Mystic Pizza
3:30 Movie: Red Corner
6:00 WWE Bottom Line

As much as I love the movie Mystic Pizza, and as bedazzled by the intrigue of the title "Red Corner" as I am, and even as much as I love World Wrestling Entertainment....

I can't help but notice that there is no baseball being shown nationally this afternoon, on a Saturday, in the midst of the pennant stretch run.

I don't know if the fault lies with the Commissioner's Office, or with Fox Television. Frankly, I'm a fan of neither party, and the sooner baseball's done with Bud Selig and Fox TV, the happier I'll be. This is the most important time of the season, and Fox doesn't think baseball's worth its while to show, and more importantly, the car salesman ostensibly in charge of our game hasn't done enough, apparently, to make it worth Fox's while to show the game.

Lookit. It's the NFL's opening season, and you can't swing a dead cat without hearing, seeing or smelling the NFL. Because the NFL goes hogwild promoting itself.

Allan H. "Bud" Selig seems to think everybody ought to be bending over backwards, paying billions for a ridiculous TV package, for his game, depending on its standing as a great game instead of working to actually make the game great, and getting people into the stands to see how the game's great.

It's about promotion. It's about publicity. And Major League Baseball has done virtually nothing to promote itself in any positive way since 1998.

Not to worry. The local CBS affiliate is showing the Titans/Dolphins game after all. The Chattanooga stations usually choose to align themselves along Atlanta Falcons lines, so it's a pleasant surprise to see them showing the Titans at all. I'll just watch that, Allan H. "Bud" Selig.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Yard Salin' it

Yard Salin' It

Okay, bargain hunters. Headin' out to the Flea Market tomorrow, at the Swingin' Midway Drive-In, and now's your chance to get your hands on some authentic Tommy swag (previously available only at Walgreens and Roses).

Yeah, I got too much crap. I'm just trying to move a bunch of it out. Do you like comic books? How about regular books? Irregular books? Posters? Toys? Furniture? World Peace?

I got up early this morning, and I priced stuff. Gonna get up early tomorrow, and see what stuff I can unload.

I'm speaking mostly to you Athens people, and even you east Tennessee people. Lots of good stuff this weekend. Go to the Swingin' Midway Drive-In, on Highway 30 between Athens and Etowah. Come buy my stuff!!!! You'll never get this opportunity again (this year!).

I speak not so much to you New York, or Iowa, or California people. I apologize for advertising my selling of my crap when you've got no way to get here cheaply. If you want to hop a flight to Tennessee to go to the Drive-In's flea market, hey, more power to you.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Baby Names

Baby Names

One of my friends e-mailed to say she's having a baby.

She reads here occasionally.

In fact, anytime I see her, and go to tell her an anecdote from my life, she'll stop me midway through, and say "I know, I read it on your blog." And then she'll tap her foot impatiently.

I do this blog as a service. I do it to entertain a couple of people. I do it to help you learn something every now and then. I do it to keep me from going crazy and hurting a bunch of people (possibly you with a chainsaw.

But mostly, I'm here to help. (No I'm not).

It's early, but it's never too early to start thinking about names.

Now, a few suggestions:


1. Ralphus
2. Howie Long
3. Batman
4. Cadillac
5. Lucifer
6. Luminous
7. Ceephus
8. Crapping Bear


1. Frigga
2. She-Hulk
3. Ultima
4. Georgiarella
5. Lou
6. Jella
7. Thirteen
8. Chyna

Big Stupid Tommy. He's here to help.

Top 5 Joe Lansdale

Top 5 Joe Lansdale

Inspired by Sheila's efforts yesterday, and Chris's in the past,

My top 5 Joe Lansdale novels:

1. The Bottoms

A really fun mystery. I like how its parts are fitted together. I like the mystery's misdirection.

2. The Drive-In

Very trippy. A lot of fun, as well. Just a surreal story about kids who get trapped in a Drive-In. A pulpy story of degeneration within a microcosm.

3. Freezer Burn

Lansdale appeals to that gothic, southern, grotesque fan in me. There's lots of it in this story of murder and betrayal in a travelling freak show.

4. A Fine Dark Line

More grotesque, more fish out of water. A kid's family moves to town take over a town's drive-in. Joe's about the only author I'll consistently buy the first-person narrator from.

5. Bad Chili

My favorite of Joe's series of books about Hap Collins and Leonard Pine. Buddy Crime novels. I'm working on reading the whole series. I keep getting outbid for the second and third books in the series (Mucho Mojo and Two-Bear Mambo, respectively).

Honorable Mention: Batman: Captured by Engines

It's not Joe's best work, but it's just about the only novelization of a licensed character that I actually enjoyed and thought hit the character/nail right on the head.

A Passage from Joe R. Lansdale

A Passage from Joe R. Lansdale

I was fortunate enough to find Joe R. Lansdale's newest the other day where somebody had traded it at the used bookstore. I did a little happy dance right there in the middle of the stacks. Didn't have to buy it new. I don't buy a lot new, even from my favorite authors (and Mr. Lansdale, trust me, is up HIGH on that list). As much as I like these authors, I'm also a little cheap. I don't see the sense in buying a $22 book when I've got shelves full of books at home that I haven't read yet.

Still, when I found Sunset and Sawdust for less than half price, figuring in the little bit of trade credit I had left, I had to jump.

I read a quarter of the book last night before going to sleep. I ought not read authors I really like when I need to sleep. I'm liable to be up for a long, long time.

I caught on the opening passage, when I started reading. I just liked the way the words fit together. It's a violent, jarring way to open the story, from an author who specializes in occasionally violent, jarring stories.

I thought I'd share:

On the afternoon it rained frogs, sun perch, and minnows, Sunset discovered she could take a beating good as Three-Fingered Jack. Unlike Jack, who had taken his in the sunshine, she took hers in her own home at the tail end of a cyclone, the windows rattling, the roof lifting, the hardwood floor cold as stone.

She was on her back wearing only the top half of her dress, because the bottom half had been ripped away when Pete, during the process of beating her, had stepped on it, and the dress, rotten as politics, had torn and left her clothed only from waist to shoulders.

It went through her mind that she was down to two dresses now, and that she hated to see this one go, as it, though faded, had a flowery pattern she liked and the colors blended well with the stains.

Go check out Joe's site. He's got free short (short) stories up. Good for a quick read.

Can't Take a Hint

Can't Take a Hint

How many times does God have to tell you?

Florida is for Alligators. Build your amusement parks somewheres else.

Is This Thing On?

Is This Thing On?

Blogger's been disagreeing with me here lately. Let's see if this mofo's working.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004



The power went off in the middle of the night, last night. Don't know what time. I just remember waking up in pitch black. No clock on the VCR. No lights from the computer. No green glow coming from the alarm clock. Dark as dark can be.

I wake up early. Like, 5:15, 5:30. It's the time I've made for myself to write. I'll get up, write for 45 minutes or an hour in the quiet and the dark, then I'll start getting ready for the day.

I woke up in the pitch black, and got the crazy idea in my half asleep mind that it was probably past time for me to get up and write. Never mind the fact that with the power off, I wouldn't be able to turn the computer on.

In a rare display of forethought on my part, I keep a flashlight on the night table. I found it, and turned it on. The bulb emitted one weak flash, and died forever.

I have another couple of flashlights. One, I knew, was somewhere on one of my bookcases.

It's amazing how disoriented I became in my own little room with no lights on. I'd think I'm walking toward the bookcase, and I'd end up near the TV. I'd find the dresser a couple of feet before I'm ready for it, and of course, I'd find it with my big toe. I don't know how my computer table found its way right in front of my shins.

No flashlight.

I wandered to the kitchen, to find the big yellow flashlight, the one that you can see from the moon if you turn it on the bright setting.

I looked outside. I live out in the woods, but across the hills, you can see a subdivision about a mile away up on the next hill. No lights there. No lights through the woods at the nearest neighbor's house. The whole stretch of road was without power.

I find the flashlight. I turn it on. What time is it? 1:25.

I'd been asleep all of 2 and a half hours, and had panicked myself into believing I needed to get up.

Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep. Not even after the power came back on just before 3 AM.

Very little sleep tonight. No writing this morning. I hope I don't have to do any complex math equations today.

That's all I got. Blogging about Nothing since 2002....

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Football Pick'em

Football Pick'em

Hey guys, I've got a Yahoo Pick'em league for the upcoming NFL season. I've gotten considerably less response from those I invited than I wanted.

If anybody's interested in playing in a pick-em league (confidence points on all games, no spreads) give me an e-mail, and I'll give you the info.

Only a couple of days left, so if you're interested, drop me a line.

Ain't That Just Like a Yankee?

Ain't That Just Like a Yankee?

The Yankees want to be awarded a forfeit win since the Tampa Bay Devil Rays couldn't make it up to New York because of a little storm called Hurricane Frances.

Sets a bad precedent. The last thing I want is a New York Yankee Sabotage Squad taking out opponents' planes before they can make it up to New York. Yeah, the Yankees need to win their seasons the old fashioned way: By paying more for their players and outspending everybody else in the league.

Did I mention that I laughed myself silly when I heard Kevin Brown had broken his hand after punching a wall? He's a prick, and he's now proven himself to be a stupid, immature prick. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Speaking of Frances (the storm, not multi-France), they're calling for anywhere from 3-6 inches of rain in my neck of the woods today.

Today, we're going to spend an undue amount of time convincing the dogs to go out and pee.

Me? I'll pee outside in any weather. No convincing needed. Preaching to the choir.

Monday, September 06, 2004

Labor Day

Labor Day

Today was Labor Day.

You know what that means, right?

Today's the day when the Farmer Johanssen walks to his barn, opens the door, and waits.

If his donkey, Leonard the Petulant Ass, comes out of his shack...and if he comes out walking on two legs, it's work no more in Two Thousand and Four. But if he's walking on four legs, we all have to work for the rest of the year.

It's another four leg year.

In other news, we're serving up donkey sammiches all week at the Big Stupid Tommy Cafe.

Stupid Labor Day....

Minor League Baseball

Minor League Baseball

It's that time....a little bit of a different minor league baseball picture.

One of the things I like about minor league baseball is that its home parks have a greater capacity for character than the Major League counterparts.

This picture comes from Sevierville, TN, home of the Tennessee Smokies, the AA affiliate of the hated St. Louis Cardinals.

Out beyond the right field fence, beyond the berm, we find a campground. And in that campground, we see people with their lawnchairs set out, watching the game from the hill.

It's like the Skydome, or maybe Wrigley....only a bit more woodsy.....



If I had my way, I'd still be asleep right now. But one of the dogs woke me up because it had to pinch a loaf (his words, not mine). And I got distracted by something shiny, and here I am.

The Midway Drive-In has dusk-to-dawn shows over the Labor Day weekend, and I went to take in part of the show last night. Got home at 4 this morning. Got around 5 hours of sleep, but I'm still moving slowly and thinking even more slowly this morning.

Saw Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle as one of the movies playing last night. It's an enjoyable comedy. Good gags, with a couple of truly inspired bizarre bits (man peeing on bush in the middle of nowhere with Kumar). The NPH was great, too. The best part? When female nudity finally appears on screen, somewhere in the front of the drive-in, a group of guys let out cheer and applause that could be all the way through the theater.

Saw Spider-Man 2 again, as well as Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for a second time. Gary Oldman, looks so much like wrestler Al Snow in his role as Sirius Black, that I'm not entirely unconvinced that he isn't the guy who carried a mannequin head to the ring in ECW. Perhaps they double booked appearanced.

More later, when I'm a little more awake.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

You know, when Bob McKenzie makes his brother Doug laugh in the court room scene in Strange Brew? And the bullets Doug's used to stop his nosebleed fire off? That's the pinnacle of human artistic achievement.

1. Bullets firing from nose in Strange Brew.
2. Beethoven's Fifth Symphony
3. The Mona Lisa
4. The "Mountain Wedding" episode of The Andy Griffith Show
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain

It'd been so long since I'd seen Strange Brew that I'd forgotten a couple of the gags.

Strange Brew's another one that I can watch if I'm feeling down, and it'll make me feel good.

I love the bit where Bob and Doug bribe the Elsinore Brewery receptionist with donuts. It's a jelly.

Changing the subject, I had a dream the other night that I'd left some of my stuff up in my old apartment in Murfreesboro. In the dream, I went up to get the stuff, but my old apartment had been turned into a little bistro. I don't think this dream means anything. I woke up astounded, however, at just how effectively the owners had utilized the little bit of floor space we had in that little hole in the wall.

Heading down to Atlanta today. Gonna get a couple of books signed at DragonCon, and maybe I'll buy a couple of things that I don't really need. I plan to spend some time looming menacingly over Ernie Hudson, but I don't have many other plans for the day.

Just going for the day.

The group of us used to make a weekend out of it. We'd stay close to the convention site, and walk to and from. Probably the most memorable time, though, was the time the person we'd counted on to get hotel reservations didn't get them in time. We ended up staying a couple of exits up, and had to drive. The first night, we were all pretty pissed. But we managed to overcome that by drinking a lot and breaking a couple of city civil codes in the process.

But just going for the day today. Yep.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Summertime in Georgia

Summertime in Georgia

Warren Ellis on the joys of international travel and summertime in Atlanta:

Atlanta airport is a hellhole. An hour and a half queuing in
Immigration. That's worse than JFK. Took another half hour after that to
actually get out of the airport. Finally got into the hotel to find
messages from the organisers asking if I'm alive and pleading with me to
light a signal fire if I'm lost and wandering in the outback.

Atlanta is misty and hot: eighty degrees and solid grey. I missed out on
my dinner appointment due to having been standing in eighty degree heat
for ninety minutes wondering if the immigration officer at the end of my line
had died in his booth. So I'm going to make the nice hotel people bring me
beer until I fall asleep.

You don't breathe the summertime air in Atlanta, you drink it.

A teacher once told me that when she dies, she'll probably pass through Atlanta's Hartsfield on the way to heaven or hell.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Some Things Just Make You Feel Good

Some Things Just Make You Feel Good

I went out to eat last night, and while eating, I would glance up at the TV above the bar, to catch scores of the baseball games being played last night. Yeah, it was irritating to see the Cubs down 4-0 in the first, on a night when I knew Mark Prior was starting.

But then My spirits lifted.

I saw that the Indians and Yankees were playing, and that the score was 9-0 in favor of the Tribe at the end of 3.

It wasn't enough to make me happy, but it was something to think about besides wondering what the real status of Mr. Prior and his elbow/shoulder/achilles tendon are.

I looked up later, after finishing my southwestern eggrolls, as we were leaving, that the Indians had increased their lead to 15-0.

I started to smile, as I walked to the car.

Stopped in a bookstore, looked at all the books I could buy to add to the stack I already have that I haven't read.

Got back in the truck, and turned to the Braves radio broadcast. The Indians were still laying a clubbering on the Yanks. I started to laugh.

I went out late last night to pick up a couple of things, and listened to the Braves Tenth Inning Show (hosted by former WCW announcer Tony Schiavone), and heard that the Indians had laid a whupping historical on the Yankees.

The Indians beat the Yankees 22-0 last night.

Biggest loss in their 101 year history.

Biggest shutout of any team since the Pirates beat a certain team from the North Side of Chicago by the same score in 1975.

It's just one game. But you just get the feeling that such a thing couldn't have happened to a more deserving bunch of fellers. Cleveland rules, today.