Saturday, February 28, 2009

Birthdays.....

Birthdays....

Howdy, folks. Working like a botard...blah, blah, blah.

Wanted to take a moment to tell my friend Shyam Happy Birthday. It's the big Double Three for her, and on this occasion of reaching Jesus' age, I'd like to thank her for making me laugh, making me think, and most of all listening to me when I ask her a question like "What the fuck did I do to offend [insert girl's name here]this time?"

Anyway, she blogs occasionally over here, and she's on facebook and twitter. Stop by and wish her a happy dirty turd....

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

In which Tuesday was my enemy....

In which Tuesday was my enemy...

Some days, you get the bear. And some days....

Today was a motherhump of a day. Got it from all sides. Just one of those days it would have been nice to just huddle up and catch a couple of movies somewhere. Except then, I'd probably have somehow offended a movie, too, only to have my ass whipped by a billion Bollywood stars.

First time for everything.

I think I could take a few of them, before the Hindu masses came crushing down upon me.

Can I just ask this? When, exactly, did we get to the point where for each and every person out here, that nobody else's opinion matters?

I put a quote up, a few weeks ago, from Jeff Bridges, that went something along the lines of (paraphrasing, because my memory's for shit): Be kinder than necessary, because everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle....

I dunno. Is it too much to ask for that consideration in return?

Probably.

I'm out of Velveeta, so here's some cheese to go with the whine....



Yeah. Shitty movie. I tend to like it, though. It's beautifully shot, you gotta admit. Plus, Post-Apocalyptic matches my mood, this evening. It is heartening to think Tom Petty would survive Armageddon.

The gun thing is disappointing, and I find myself wondering how a town, even in a superior vantage point, would defend itself from Will Patton and his band of marauders?

I think, even in this world, it's important to own a gun to protect yourself from Will Patton, and his band of marauders.

But, that's just me.

Anyway, y'all take it easy.

Tomorrow's another day.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Older, yes. Wiser? No.

Older, yes. Wiser? No.

Today is my birthday.

And as if I needed a reminder why I call this blog Big Stupid Tommy, on this my thirty-second spin around the sun....

I dragged my ass out of bed at 5 this morning, showered, got dressed and went to work, some 35 minutes away.

Only to find that I don't work the open shift, but the closing one.

Great, right?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Good Deeds....

Good Deeds...

My Buddy Barry's doing something pretty cool, and if you're local, and you're not doing anything Saturday night, you might give it a look...he's doing a wrestling show to benefit the family of James Clark, who passed away recently.

Barry's always been a helluva dude....now everybody gets to see it...

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

Maybe not safe for work.

Dinosaurs Fucking Robots.

I needed that laugh....

Trust me...as insane as I feel after 3 hours of sleep...you needed that laugh, too.

It's gonna be a long day, pilgrims.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tuesday Thoughts

Tuesday Thoughts

Free time's not been something I've had a bunch of here lately. Like to throw the words "working like a botard" around these parts, here lately. Maybe I oughta change the name of the blog.

Truth be told, it's been a lot of 5 o'clock mornings, and a handful of 11 and 12 hour days. Combine that with trying to take a class, and the fact that I seem okay with donating even more time to an eight-week bowling league...

Still, I like throwing heavy things, so bowling's probably the most heavy outlet for that urge, outside of entering the squared circle.

-----

I did have time one afternoon last week to go catch The Wrestler. I dug the flick a lot, and have nothing but kind words for the performances of both Mickey Rourke and Marisa Tomei. More than that, I was more pleased with how the ugliness of what these guys do wasn't glossed over, rather simply treated as part of their lives that they've embraced, for better or for worse.

There's another bit that I ended up digging quite a bit....Randy the Ram finds himself working in the deli of a grocery store, in a move to get himself more hours and perhaps move back toward a more normal life. It's not often that I find myself aghast at something a movie's done...but I'm going to give The Wrestler all the credit in the world and all the thanks in the universe. What I saw was a little bit of my life up there on the screen, and a little bit of how I'm feeling.

I've been writing quite a bit in the past week and a half, too, on top of all my outside work.

I've had a couple ideas kicking around in my head for a month or so. Figured it was time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and hammer something out. I dig the idea...I'll keep you posted.

-----

An odd thing happened at The Wrestler that I'd wanted to address before today, but time and attention wander away from me.

I made my way down to Chattanooga to see the flick one day after I worked a half day. I live in a town with one small, two-screen theater. Sadly, the arthouse scene doesn't too often filter to my little cranny of East Tennessee. And, with time being what it is, here lately, it's hard to justify driving an hour each way just for a two-hour movie. It becomes a four-hour excursion, and sometimes it's not worth the trouble. Though I grant you, it's a little easier for my mind to handle now that gas is 1.85 instead of 4.00....

But anyway, I wandered in the middle of the day. It was a 1:15 or 1:25 show, there abouts. I bought my ticket, and wandered back to the theater. It was one of the smaller theaters in Chattanooga's Rave theater. Maybe 70 seats, total.

I got in maybe ten minutes before the movie was starting. I took a seat right behind the rail that rests behind the handicapped seating. I like those spots...I can put my feet up.

Well, it's before the flick. I received a text message, work related, and was answering it. Another gentleman walks in to the theater. At this point, there are two people in the theater, and 69 empty seats for him to choose.

I'm finishing my message, and in my peripheral vision, I see the man wander up the same I'm sitting in. He takes the seat to my right, leaving one seat of separation between us.

Now, there was separation. But I still found it odd, that with 69 other empty seats in the theater, he chose that one to sit in.

I know all the other seats were empty, because it was at this point that I turned over my right shoulder and surveyed the emptiness of the theater behind me. The man stared straight ahead.

Maybe half a minute later, my phone beeps with a text in reply to mine.

I open my phone, and am preparing to answer that message, when the gentleman says "You're gonna turn that off during the movie."

Not a question.

A statement.

First, let me say, we're not even to the point of preview trailers, yet. It's the slide show ad content with Coke ads featuring titles of movies with four letters blanked out, and ads for the local chiropractor and how you can get flowers for Valentines at Marv's. No sound, no music. Just me and and a strange, bossy man in a dimly lit room...not at all how I'd envisioned my afternoon off.

"Don't worry about it," I say. I'm not the type to cause trouble, but I hate what I percieve to be Alpha Male situations with a passion. I'm irritated, but I'm also kinda wishing for another person to be in the theater with us, just in case the headcase who decides to sit next to a stranger, who's also bossy when it comes to cell phones, decides to be a little stabby about it.

Let me pause to say that I'm nuts about the cell phones in theaters, too. I'm overly polite with mine, and generally, I turn mine all the way off whenever I'm catching a flick in public. So, unless you're obsessive about trying to figure out what HI_H SCH_OL MUSICA_ 3 will actually turn out to be when the puzzle gets solved, I'm probably not being really rude with my text messaging.

Nothing much more came of it. After a couple minutes, the gentleman gets up. When he comes back, the previews have started, and he takes a seat a couple more rows up. By that time, thankfully, a handful of folks had made it in to catch the flick.

Didn't think about it again. The Wrestler just sucks you in.

After the movie, I was going to the restroom, and I heard the door fly open with the force of sudden impact. I heard four quick footsteps, and a stall door open and close quickly. The space of time between the close of the stall door and what I'll refer to politely as explosive evacuation was nil...I know there was no time to unzip, and barely just time to rip pants and underwear down, for that wearer.

Is it polite to say it sounded like a wheelbarrow full of gravel dumped into a pond?

Probably not.

I could not stifle a chuckle, despite my sympathy, when I heard a heavy, relieved sigh resound from within the stall, after the downpour ended. It made it all the more funny to me to think it was the Alpha Male who'd demanded cellphone etiquette prior to the flick.

----

The last thing I gotta say is this....

I dug The Wrestler on a lot of levels.

But I think the one I dig most is that it makes me want to write.

It's been hard taking or making the time, here lately. But at least in the last week and a half, I've made the time again. Very cool, I think.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Bowl

Bowl

Tonight, I took my big ass bowling.

I was invited to join a league, by an acquaintance I saw at the bowling alley.

I accepted the invitation.

In truth, this was simply the next logical step in my master plan for World Domination.

Somehow, we move from "Join a Bowling League" to "Crush Enemies with Pavement Rollers." That latter step isn't the Final step, merely the most looked-forward-to milestone in my journey.

This is the third or fourth day of the rest of my life.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Earworm...

Earworm...

Not sure about the video, but the song's been stuck in my head since I heard it yesterday....

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Ten Things that are True about my Mother

Ten Things that are True about my Mother

1. Today is her birthday, and she is 924 years old.

2. My mother can deadlift 1,920 pounds. I once saw her pick a Toyota Tercel up to pick up a set of keys, that had fallen under that car. The twenty-seven Mexicans inside the car were quite surprised. They now serve my mother. They are her Meximinions.

3. When my mother saw Superman use his immense strength to crush a lump of coal into a diamond, in Superman 3, she hunted Superman down, and crushed him into a diamond. She wears that diamond around her neck in brooch form. It is rather tasteful, if you asked me.

4. My mother beat the shit out of Teddy Roosevelt in 1895. Literally. She beat the shit out of him. That shit is in the Smithsonian. That beating is why Franklin Delano Roosevelt pronounced his last name differently, so as to distance himself from what he saw as a shameful event.

5. My mother gave FDR polio. For attempting to distance himself from what he saw as Teddy's shameful ass whooping. There is nothing shameful in losing a fight to my mother. There is shame in losing dishonorably, and acting a coward. FDR led us through World War II as an act of contrition.

6. My mother's favorite bird is the Cardinal. I have not said so out loud until now, but I am afraid that this particular fact may have something to do with the Cubs not having won the Pennant in a century.

7. My mother speaks 89 languages. 28 of those are dead languages. 27 seven of those are dead because they disobeyed her. (The last simply died of fright).

8. My mother owns one pair of shoes. Formal occasions and fashions simply mold themselves around this one pair of shoes.

9. My mother appears three times on the cover of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. She is not John, George or Ringo. I have ascertained that last fact myself, owing to that John and George are dead, and Ringo is a goofball. My mother is most certainly not a goofball. I thought I'd discounted her being Paul, as well, but I did see her tapping her foot to a Wings song the other day....

10. Wings is the greatest band in the history of music. Period. Please do not doubt this. I tend to like you folks quite a bit....

(Happy B'day...)

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Thursday...

Thursday

Working like a botard again. You know how it goes. Gotta pay the bills, I reckon.

Think I'm gonna go check a movie out today. Don't know what. Still haven't seen The Wrestler.

Maybe I'll eat a hamburger today, as I've been off the red meat for 11 days, now....

Thus endeth the most boring blog entry every...