tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25959128191602574942024-03-05T19:23:12.878+00:00The JohnsoNationJohnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-5916596387014848362020-09-09T02:07:00.007+01:002020-09-09T16:14:54.707+01:00The Lies: A Tale in 1 Act<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAyUGXrRHK76zYGSs2EZDVV3DeMOqEUwyeOdeHaJ-3VhnfpU6dLzB5vRQpiT4GU8x0DxISONi0tB72d34iQgs40alNL04_EPGGMaCvFzEbadwbm-8wqjKeBJYVPWJ0vcq2Yequ3avCrw/s960/couple-at-odds-in-silhouette.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAyUGXrRHK76zYGSs2EZDVV3DeMOqEUwyeOdeHaJ-3VhnfpU6dLzB5vRQpiT4GU8x0DxISONi0tB72d34iQgs40alNL04_EPGGMaCvFzEbadwbm-8wqjKeBJYVPWJ0vcq2Yequ3avCrw/s320/couple-at-odds-in-silhouette.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="font-family: courier; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 25px 42.5px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 25px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Editor's Note: I submitted this script to a couple of contests for dramatic script writing. It wasn't a winner by their standards, but I was recently reminded that seeking acclaim alone doesn't bring joy, creating does. And sometimes the joy of creating should be enough.</span></p><p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 25px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If you found your way here, please enjoy.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a name='more'></a></span><p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 25px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 25px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">FADE IN:</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">INT. HOTEL ROOM - EVENING</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two people lay next to each other in a hotel bed; SETH (34) and MARIA (37). The seem fairly comfortable in their surroundings.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They are both skimming through their cell phones, as if they are searching for something.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What about April 5th?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria looks at her phone, searching for the calendar.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No good, I’m out of town that week. I have that conference, remember?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, that’s right. Tuscan.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The very same.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I hate that town. It’s always hot. Even when the AC is on, it feels like you’re stuck in an oven.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well you know, that’s the gig. Pharmacy samples aren’t going to hand themselves out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At least the spread is usually good.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And the open bar.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Preach it, sister.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They give each other a playful high-five while continuing to scroll through their phones.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What about May 10th?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nope, bachelor party weekend.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh really? Who’s?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I thought you already had a bachelor party for Paul?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No, that was for Zack.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria shrugs while she continues to scroll through her phone.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s hard to keep all of your friends straight. You have too many of them.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I can forgive you for mixing those two up, they are twins after all. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh yeah. Is Zack the ugly one or the really ugly one?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The ugly one.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Good news for the bride, I guess.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How about June 7th?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A lightbulb goes off in Maria’s head. She smirks.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That… might actually work.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Really? Did we finally figure it out?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria scans her phone for confirmation, then looks at Seth with a broad smile.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s when Eric goes to camp.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth continues to skim through his phone, barely registering what she said.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh wow. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth stops with a sudden realization. He looks at Maria who has a coy smile.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SEITH (CONT’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Wait, is this that camp in New Milford?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The creative arts camp-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">-That was an hour away from that awesome B&B?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The beautiful victorian house with the wrap around porch-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">-That overlooked the mountains?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The very same.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth excitedly moves in and kisses Maria passionately on the lips. Maria returns the kiss with equal ferocity.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Man that was a great weekend.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was amazing.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria picks her phone back up and leans into Seth. He wraps his arm around her and kisses her head.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Should I go ahead and book our reservation?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Please.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria starts to type away on her phone as Seth lays his head on hers.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I think it’s great that you send Eric there. To creative arts camp, I mean.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, he doesn’t like sports. He needs something for his college applications.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You know I used to do theatre in school, right?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stops typing and looks at Seth in surprise.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You? Really?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After all these years I’ve never told you that?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Never.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You are currently laying in bed with a man that at one time graced the stage as both King Lear and Sweeney Todd.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t believe you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hand to god.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria laughs in disbelief.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">King Lear and Sweeney Todd. Aren’t those two different shows?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, it was a challenging script.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria giggles as Seth kisses her cheek and neck. She lays her head on his chest and listens to his heart beat.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont'd)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seriously though, I know you’re not crazy about the arts. It’s really cool that you let him embrace that side of himself.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t really have much of a choice. I don’t want him to be some anti-social weirdo. This at least gets him out of the house.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m telling you, doing plays really brought me out of my shell. You’d be surprised how much of my theatre experience I use at work.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria sits up and looks at Seth with an grin and a raised eyebrow. She smells bullshit.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We’re in the same field. How the hell do you apply playing pretend with pharmaceutical sales?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s not “playing pretend.” It’s a skill.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria dramatically bows.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, my apologies.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth holds his hand up regally.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You are quite forgiven.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They laugh, and snuggle closer.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I bet you were really cute singing and dancing on a stage.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Can’t say it ever hurt my love life.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria smiles, then leans in and kisses Seth again.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is really nice. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You like hearing about how the theatre turned me from dud to stud?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No. I mean just being here. Together. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth wraps his arms around Maria and pulls her in close.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It really is.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They look at each other lovingly. Seth kisses her on the forehead and she lays her head on his chest.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You know, if Eric ever needs pointers on how to command the stage, I could give you some tips you can teach him.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s smile fades at the mention of her son’s name. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t know. I honestly don’t see how doing plays at a theatre camp benefits you in the real world.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth looks at her, slightly amused by her statement.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How can you not? You do it all the time.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What? I do not.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Think about it; you put on a nice outfit, bring the doctors a nice lunch, schmooze them over cocktails. It’s all about the presentation. How do you think we convince all of those stuffed shirts to take our samples? To put in way too many orders for thousands of dollars worth of merchandise? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I like to think my endless charm and wit have a big part to play in it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s a performance. Everything we do is an act. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria sits back and picks up her phone and starts to scroll again, slightly put off.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh please.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s what we need to do to survive. If we didn’t pretend then what would we say? “Hello, I’d like to introduce you to our new product; a pill that makes your nausea disappear, along with your sex drive!”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria keeps scrolling through her phone, growing less and less interested in the conversation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, you probably have to put on an act, slinging product like that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You know I’m telling the truth. It’s all bullshit. The whole industry. We do it because we’re great at pretending to be someone that we aren’t. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria looks away from her phone. Her smile is gone, her features beginning to harden. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It sounds to me like you’re saying we’re really good liars.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth can read it all over Maria’s face; he overstepped.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria, come one, you know that’s not what I meant.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She looks back at her phone. A hint of frustration invades her tone.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It sure sounds like that’s what you meant.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m just saying there’s a level of performance that goes into our work. “Fake it till you make it.” I don’t know how you can deny that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria is getting annoyed.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t need to fake it, Seth. I don’t need to lie to survive.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth scoffs, and playfully rolls his eyes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh really? What do you call this then.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stops scrolling, turns her phone off, and gently places it on the nightstand. She looks at Seth with stone cold resolve.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her game face is on. Seth know’s he’s screwed.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You know what I think Seth? I think you confuse work with play. I think you don’t know when it’s time to stop goofing around and take things seriously.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth looks away from her. He wasn’t ready for this conversation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If you did, you might find that you are quite good at your job based on your charm alone. But, you don’t want to do that. You overstep. You always overstep.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth crosses his arms in frustration. He looks like a pouting child.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And because you overstep, you have to do damage control. You’re forced to stroke the egos of people richer and more powerful - but less interesting and clever than you - in order to push your crappy products on them. You have to work overtime just to appear on their level.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth bites his lip. Hard. Maria doesn’t let up.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The difference between you and I Seth, is that when I walk into that same room with those same people, I do not have to put on a performance. I don’t need to play pretend because I am good at my job. The products I sell are good. They want me, and they want what I’m selling. When I am in that room, I don’t need to impress anyone with some illusion of power. I am the power.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria picks her phone back up and returns to her scrolling. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth shakes his head in disbelief.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If you’re so powerful then why do you have to lie about what you’re doing whenever we’re together?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria puts her phone back down on the nightstand. Her stone cold demeanor hasn’t changed, but her eyes are set aflame. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth knows this look. He’s really done it now.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I beg your pardon?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth tries to put on a tough face. It doesn’t work.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What are we doing here, Maria?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am not having this conversation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You never want to have this conversation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We agreed, Seth-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth jumps in, feeling a boldness he was previously lacking.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">-No, you agreed! You decided this is how it’s going to be. I never got a say in any of it-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">-That’s because you don’t have anything to lose.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth pulls back and leans against the headboard. He bites his lip again, and looks down at his lap. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is Seth tapping out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria watches Seth’s reaction, and she begins to soften. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why are we arguing? We still have the rest of the weekend together. Let’s not ruin it, huh?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria grabs the back of Seth’s head and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s gentle and soft, if not without passion.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria gets up out of bed and walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth stays in the bed, still reeling from the previous conversation. Running water can be heard from the bathroom.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)(O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was thinking we could get out of the lodge tonight. I’m sick of room service. Maybe go into town for dinner? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s phone springs to life, vibrating on the nightstand.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth leans over to see who’s calling. He frowns.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s CHAD.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)(o.S.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There’s an Italian place that’s supposed to be good. I’m really in the mood for carbs.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth picks up the phone as it vibrates in his hand. He stares at the picture associated with the caller: </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria and Chad together wrapped in each other’s arms. Maria’s cheek is pressed against his chest and his chin is resting on her head.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They’re smiling. They look absolutely joyous. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth feels a lump growing in his throat.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (COnt’d)(O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I bet you could get a nice steak there. I’ve heard their wine selection is pretty good. At least the menu has more to offer than “White” or “Red”.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth hovers his thumb over the “accept call” button. He hesitates. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The phone continues to vibrate. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)(O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe after dinner we can take a walk. Apparently there’s an arts festival happening this weekend. Lots of vendors in town selling their stuff. Could be fun.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth clicks the button, accepting the call.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He holds the phone up to his ear.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">CHAD (O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hey babe.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The lump in Seth’s throat has moved to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He’s unable to breath.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">CHAD (Cont’d)(O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hello?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth continues to listen, the weight in his chest becoming too much to carry. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">CHAD (Cont’d)(O.s.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria, are you there-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth hangs up the phone, and takes in a big gust of air, finally able to draw another breath.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He tosses the phone on the bed and buries his face in his hands.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria walks back into the room while putting on earrings, dressed for a night out on the town.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What do you think, babe?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Babe. <i>He</i> called <i>her</i> babe.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth takes his face out of his hands and looks at Maria with resentment.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sounds good.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He climbs out of bed and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria is perplexed. She sits down on the bed, processing Seth’s demeanor. She reaches over to the nightstand to grab her phone, only to realize it isn’t there.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her confusion grows once she hears the sound of her phone vibrating. Her eyes follow the sound to the center of the bed.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s Chad.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She grabs the phone and takes into her hands and holds it tightly. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When she opens them, the panic has dissolved. She is calm. Confident. Powerful. It’s a quick-change she’s made a thousand times.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She answers the phone with a big smile on her face.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hey babe!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She pauses, listening to Chad on the other end. Panic enters her eyes, but her voice doesn’t give it away.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You called? When-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria suddenly puts it all together. She looks at the bathroom door, fury overtaking the panic that once resided inside her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, I’m sorry. The reception has been terrible.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She pauses again, listening intently. Her eyes are shooting daggers at the bathroom door.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (COnt’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The conference is fine. You know how it goes. Doctor’s to impress, pills to push. Same old song and dance.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria listens to Chad as she stands up and walks over to the bathroom door. She looks down at the doorknob, contemplating her next move. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes, I did send in Eric’s camp registration. Check is in the mail. Everything is good for June.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She stares at the doorknob with growing fury. She reaches her hand out to grab it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her hand stops and hovers over the doorknob. She pulls back.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Look, I better go. Gotta get back to the grind. Those samples aren’t going to hand out themselves.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria fakes a laugh. Her face tells a different story; one of guilt, anger, and shame.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ll see you Monday. Give Eric a kiss for me.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria closes her eyes, trying to gather herself.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You too.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She sits back down on the bed, and hangs up. Maria looks toward the bathroom door, her anger brewing.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The door opens. Seth steps into the room dressed for a night out. He buttons his shirt as he stares at Maria.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She stands up and takes a step toward him. Her rage overtakes her. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What - THE FUCK - were you thinking?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth walks past her over to his side of the bed. He sits down, then picks up his watch and puts it on his wrist.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria (cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you have any idea the damage you could have done? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth doesn’t respond. He finishes fastening his watch and begins to put on his shoes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If Chad had heard you… if he knew you were here… it would have been catastrophic. Do you realize that?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hunched over, Seth silently continues his task. He won’t even look at her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria has had it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Look at me, god dammit!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth sits up, slowly. He turns toward Maria.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> MARIA (cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you have any sense at all? What is the matter with you?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m sorry.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’re sorry? Bullshit.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I didn’t say anything to him.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why? Why would you ever do something so dense?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I just needed-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He stops. Seth looks away from Maria, ashamed.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s fury only builds.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You needed? What did you need, Seth?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t know. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes you do. Spit it out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I needed to know what makes him so special. Why you’ve stayed with him all this time. But, I couldn’t do it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria is dumbstruck with anger.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You stupid insecure child. How DARE you. How dare you jeopardize my family like that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth turns away and looks to the ground, biting his lip.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is just like you. Typical Seth. You had to overstep. Again. For what? To satiate your fragile ego?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth’s leg starts to shake. He bites his lip harder.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you even know the risk you took? Of course you don’t. Because it wasn’t a risk to you, was it? You had to mark your territory. God forbid you care about anyone other than yourself.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth stands up and turns toward Maria in full-on attack mode.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Battle stations.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How dare <i>me</i>? How dare you! You’re the one screwing another man behind your husband’s back!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s eyes grow wide with fury. That did it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Go to hell, Seth.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You have no problem sneaking off every couple of months while he’s at home with your kid. You wanna blame me for your unhappy life, Maria? Give me a break.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What do you know about my life? You don’t know anything about me Seth. You only know what I let you know.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh I know more than you want to admit. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria grabs her hair in frustration. She sits down on the bed to collect herself.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What, you think I’ve only been interested in one thing? You think I don’t care about you? About us? After all this time?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria lifts her head. She’s rallied. Her stone resolve has returned.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh you care? Why don’t we flip the mirror around Seth. Not once have you ever shown any resistance to the idea of fucking another man’s wife.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What the hell is that supposed to mean?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stands up confidently, and walks toward Seth.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It means that you have been perfectly content with this arrangement for years. You get what you want, I get what I want. It’s physical, not emotional. Don’t pretend to give a shit now “after all this time” just because your ego is hurt.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth is taken aback, completely blindsided by the accusation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s more than that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What, you think because we make small talk about my son after I get you off, that makes us something special? That going to dinner and letting you flaunt me around like I’m your trophy a couple times a year isn’t anything more than a thrill? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth’s resolve begins to crack. Maria can see it. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She moves in for the kill.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s just play, Seth. Pretend. It’s what you love. It’s what you’re good at, remember? Don’t ruin a good time because you’ve overinflated what this is.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth is on the ropes. Maria sets her sights on her target. She launches her final missile.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What I have at home with Chad and Eric, that’s real. This? It’s just a chance to blow off some steam and have some fun. But, you’ve gone and confused things. When the weekend is over you always become a sad sack. And, it’s not because I’m going home to my family. No, it’s sadder than that. It’s because you don’t have anyone to go home to. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Target destroyed.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria backs away, taking in the damage she’s caused. Seth sits down on the bed trying to hold back his tears. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria looks down on him sternly, but slowly begins to soften. Regret starts to creep in.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth wipes his face and looks her in the eyes. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s all I am to you?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stares back at Seth, standing her ground. She doesn’t respond, her body language implying that she doesn’t need to.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth begins to bolden. What once was a whimpering man is now a soldier gathering his second wind.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t believe you. You might be good at sales, but you are terrible at acting.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stands firm. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth gets off the bed and approaches her. He’s ready for Round 2. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last year when we were in Colorado I got the call that my mom- </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth pauses, and gathers himself. The pain of that moment still fresh. Maria notices, but she can’t show her hand. She’s too dug in.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was the worst moment of my life. You were there for me, then. It was the lowest I had ever been and you helped me pull it together.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth hovers over Maria, but her presence and strength put them on the same level.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was there <i>with</i> you, not <i>for</i> you. Don’t confuse proximity with emotion.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You sent flowers to her funeral.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’d do the same if a client’s mother died. It’s basic decency. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth absorbs the blow, but continues.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Those earrings you’re wearing. I bought them for you when we were in Dallas.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They’re tacky.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then why do you still wear them?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria doesn’t respond. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What about Boston? The garden party where you got so sick from food poisoning and I spent two days holding your hair while you puked.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth’s words finally break through. A twinge of pain hits her face, but only for a second. Seth keeps it up.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Or that layover in D.C. during that snow storm that turned into a full week?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria pretends to hold firm, fully unaware that she’s subtly starting to show her hand.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth catches it. He takes a chance and swings for the fences.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Napa.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s eyes grow big.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bingo.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We spent four days drinking wine and touring the countryside.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s armor starts to crack. Seth touches her hand with his. She doesn’t recoil.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We bought the most expensive bottle of wine they had and spent our last night there under the stars. We looked for constellations even though neither of us knew what the hell we were doing.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria’s eyes soften and she suffers a slight smile.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you remember what you said that night? You wanted to freeze everything. Right here. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth puts a hand on Maria’s face. She leans into it and closes her eyes, taking in Seth’s touch.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You said you were never more content. Laying with me, under our stars.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria leans in, she’s completely entranced by the memories washing over her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s what you called them. Our stars.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth kisses Maria, gently. She kisses him back. Their passion overwhelms them as they wrap themselves further into each other’s arms, forgetting everything that had transpired before.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria tears at Seth’s jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it to the floor. Seth pulls her shirt, fumbling to unbutton it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Their passion is a fire, and it is raging.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly, Maria remembers herself and pulls back. She pushes Seth away and tries to shake off the emotions that are drowning her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sprinklers are on. The fire is out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We spent a whole week drinking wine. I was drunk. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It wasn’t that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shut up.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Admit that it’s more than that.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I said shut up, Seth.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I feel it too.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria turns away, unable to look him in the eyes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t say it, Seth.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth stops, considering her request.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He ignores it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I love you, Maria.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria closes her eyes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dammit.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you even know what you’re saying to me?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m saying that I’m in love with you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria turns around and looks him in the eyes. She’s beside herself.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t you realize how crazy that is to say to me? Do you realize what you’re doing?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I mean it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How? How can you possibly mean it? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth is calm and collected. He believes what he’s saying.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s true.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s outrageous. You don’t know what you’re saying.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I know exactly what I’m saying-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No! No you don’t, Seth! You don’t! You think you do, but how could you? We spend a few weekends here and there together a year. We share the best part of a relationship. When there’s nothing else except you and me.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth attempts to move closer to Maria, but she puts up her hand to stop him.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But, that’s the only version of me you know. You don’t know the one where you have to live with me. Where you have to put up with my schedule. My temper. You don’t know how much work it takes to love me. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I already love you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No, Seth, you don’t get it. You already get all of the best parts of me. All that’s left is the bad. You really want me at my worst? Because that’s all that’s left.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It doesn’t matter.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It does matter Seth! You’ve never been where I am. You think we’re on the same level but we are not. Outside of this we have completely different lives.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We don’t have to be. We can make this work.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria is dumbfounded. She grows solemn as she prepares to reason with Seth one last time.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You realize that if this happens, we can’t go back to this. If you don’t… if you… </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria stops and gathers herself. She knows that she needs to be clear.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You have to be sure, Seth. Are you willing to lose all that we have, right now, to try and have all of me? </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth and Maria stand in silence. Maria is holding her breath, awaiting Seth’s response.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He processes her words. His eyes take their time looking over her gorgeous frame from head to toe.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then he looks back at her phone laying motionless on the bed. He feels the jealousy start to overwhelm him again.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He’s sure.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am. I want you, Maria. All of you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shit.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria grabs her forehead in exhaustion. She knows what she has to do, and it’s going to hurt.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why do you always have to overstep, Seth?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You love me.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria looks back at Seth, armor on. She’s ready for the endgame.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You are a vacation.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Admit it.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You are a glorified fuck buddy.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth closes in on Maria. He reaches for her hand and she pulls back, wildly.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stop it!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Say that you love me.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria, shaken and barely holding it together, stands her ground as firmly as she can manage.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I… do… not.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth looks her in the eyes, and sees her determination return. His shoulders sink. He knows Maria, and he knows at this moment that all is lost.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He pushes through anyway.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’re lying.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria plants herself like a tree. She struggles to get her words out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t love you.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria, please…</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s not a lie. I don’t love you. I love my husband. I love my family. Whatever this is, it’s not love. And it’s over.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tears fill Seth’s eyes. Conversely, Maria’s tears have evaporated. A chill has set in.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria…</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria erupts in passionate fury. Her final volley.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I said it’s over!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Silence overtakes the room. The battle is over. All that’s left is to bury the dead.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I would appreciate if you would leave now.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">SETH</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t do this.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She takes off the earrings and throws them at Seth’s feet.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s done. It’s all done.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth bends over and picks them up. He looks at Maria and sees that there is no changing her mind.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Go.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth turns and heads to the bathroom. Maria holds her ground, not for any reason other than if she were to move she would crumble into pieces.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth returns from the bathroom with a bag. As he crosses back in front of her, Maria closes her eyes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seth stands in front of her. This is his last chance. Do or die. He waits for her to open her eyes. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He waits.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And waits. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And waits.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Finally, Maria slowly opens her eyes, readying herself for whatever is about to happen next.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There’s only an empty room.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The door sits open, the night wind blowing in.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria shuts the door with a slam and lets out a deep sigh. She leans against the closed door and takes in the room. She finally realizes that she’s all alone.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She softly hits the back of her head off the door. She does it again with more force.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">God… oh god dammit. Fuck!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She does it again. The ferocity growing.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUCK!</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria launches forward with a scream. The pain she had been trying to control finally unleashes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She screams so hard her throat gives out.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She suddenly remembers herself and starts to pull it together. It’s no easy task. She covers her mouth with her hands, trying to calm the trembling that is overpowering her will.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Panic sets in. She starts to hyperventilate.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria surveys the room, trying to find a life raft. Her eyes fall onto Seth’s side of the bed, the sheets still bent and folded to his form. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That only makes it worse.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her phone vibrates. Maria’s heart skips. Her breath is trapped in her lungs. She snatches up her phone, a strange mixture of regret and hope overwhelms her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s a text from Chad. Maria exhales, feeling both relief and disappointment. She opens the message; it’s a picture of Chad and Eric playing. The message reads “Miss you mommy!”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria smiles, tears welling up in her eyes. She laughs to herself as she finds her control once again.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She needed this. She’s found her life raft. She’s going to be okay.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After a moment, Maria springs into action. She grabs her suitcase and throws it on the bed. She begins to toss items into it. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">With one hand she packs and with the other she dials Chad’s number.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Babe? Hey, change of plans. I’m heading home tonight. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria walks around the room, collecting her belongings and placing them in her suitcase.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I just… I need to get out of here.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria walks into the bathroom and turns on the light.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No, everything’s fine. I swear. I’m fine. I just… I need this to be done. I’m ready to be home.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria scans the area, making sure she didn’t leave anything behind.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (CONT’D)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ll catch a red-eye and I’ll see you in the morn-</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She stops, the wind knocked out of her.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sitting on the sink is one single earring.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The tears are back, but there’s no sending them away this time.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No, everything’s fine. Just a… bad connection. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maria picks up the earring and holds it in her palm. She closes her eyes and swallows hard.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ll call you when I get to the airport.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She looks at the earring in her hand. She closes her grip around it and holds it tight in her palm. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her hand begins to tremble. Her eyes begin to water. There’s no stopping it now.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 210px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MARIA (Cont’d)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 116.3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I love you too.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She hangs up the phone. She closes her eyes and places her hand over her heart.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She finally lets herself cry.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px 42.5px; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: medium;">FADE OUT.</span></p>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-22704285316891196482019-05-15T17:45:00.001+01:002020-06-10T19:36:58.457+01:00shIT: A Parody of Stephen King’s “IT”<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZ_3oOAaQ-Kvyg6U-0WiX-aRS2w0_DiRrBelyJ21joNWk4P24B-5udSKtejmBp1xsJluxcxXF-CuCKDEAUn3Kv9LuyngiTN1xkY47lfYwSds6gQyj72akv-4h8pDITPAty81ehyphenhypheng8hqw/s1600/IMG_3208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="1125" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZ_3oOAaQ-Kvyg6U-0WiX-aRS2w0_DiRrBelyJ21joNWk4P24B-5udSKtejmBp1xsJluxcxXF-CuCKDEAUn3Kv9LuyngiTN1xkY47lfYwSds6gQyj72akv-4h8pDITPAty81ehyphenhypheng8hqw/s400/IMG_3208.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
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<u>Prologue</u> </div>
<br />
A writer sits at his computer and types away at keys that correspond to certain letters of the alphabet. The letters individually mean very little, but when they are placed in a certain order with certain spacing they become so much more. The writer believes that this opening paragraph will lead to something profound and interesting that will entice the reader into continuing on this journey with him. He is incorrect of course, but it's nice to dream.<br />
<br />
The writer leans back and looks at his work so far and nods. "That's probably good for today," he says as he closes the file on his original work that only has 1 paragraph completed. He opens up his blog that he hasn't updated in 10 years to write a parody of a movie no one asked him to write. The writer believes that this exercise will get his creative juices flowing so he can get back into the original piece he was working on and find the gumption to spend more than 5 minutes a day working on it. He's incorrect of course, but again, it's nice to dream.<br />
<br />
Anyway, here's a parody of movie based on a book that has a gang-bang scene between 7 children. The writer of this parody decided pretty early on that he was going to avoid that whole can of worms entirely, so if you're here to read a parody of <i>that</i> moment then you're going to be pretty disappointed.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>The Clown in the Drain</u></div>
<br />
The rain was pouring down on the roof, making a sound not unlike rain falling on a roof. One could argue it sounded more like tiny rocks falling onto a shed, or even uncooked rice being poured onto a snare drum, but the reality is that it was rain because it was raining, and there isn't anything that sounds more like rain than rain. Inside, Georgie Edinboro watched as his brother Bill aka Big Bill aka the Stuttering Stud fold a boat out of paper to indicate the timeframe, and to also show that before cell phones were invented kids played with some really boring shit.<br />
<br />
"Hurry up with my boat Bill" said Georgie as he fiddled with the strap on his lame little rain hat.<br />
<br />
"Sh-sh-sh-shut up, turd breath," stuttered Bill, the stutterer. "I'm doing my b-b-b-best, I'm not feeling well."<br />
<br />
"You'd probably feel better if you got a full nights sleep instead of drawing pictures of boobs in your notebook," said Georgie as he pulled his rain coat drawstrings tightly and tied them into a dorky little bowtie.<br />
<br />
"Better than drawing we-we-we-we-" Bill stopped stuttering. He finally got a good look at his little brother, head to toe in slick rain gear. His hat and jacket were a bright yellow, and perfectly matched his dapper rain boots that their mom had bought Georgie that very afternoon at his insistence. The hat was bent in a way that it didn't cover Georgie's face at all, so Bill could see the giant smile plastered over his little brother's face. Georgie was so proud of his outfit. He looked ridiculous.<br />
<br />
"Better than drawing big hulking wieners, you little jerk," said Bill, finally spitting it out.<br />
<br />
Georgie rolled his eyes. He was used to his brother's stuttering as well as his insults, but what really irked him was when Bill stuttered his insults. What should have been simple brotherly loathing was turned into a chore by trying to decipher Bill's stalled sentences. Frankly, it was a bit of a chore.<br />
<br />
"You sound like a record player on a train," said Georgie, cutting right to his brother's main insecurities; his stutter and his fear of train-based stuttering insults. "Can you finish my boat now? I want to show of my new stylish rain gear and I'm not going to do that hanging out with your sick ass all day."<br />
<br />
"Sh-sh-shut up, a-a-a-anus..." Bill stuttered as Georgie rolled his eyes impatiently, "...anus breath! We need to s-s-s-seal it first. Go get the w-w-w-wax from the b-b-b-b-basement so I can..."<br />
<br />
"The basement?" Georgie exclaimed, placing his hands on his cheeks mimicking a child star in a Christmas movie about being in his house unsupervised. The look Bill shot his brother at that moment could only be described as disgust.<br />
<br />
"Just g-g-g-go g-g-get it you little sh-sh-sh-sh-" as Bill stuttered out his insult he realized Georgie was already out of the room and halfway down the stairs. Bill hated his stuttering, almost as much as he hated his little brother. As he awaited Georgie's return, he glanced over at the notebook sitting on his desk. He flipped through it and took count of all the drawings of boobs in it. Maybe Georgie had a point.<br />
<br />
As this was happening, Georgie stood frozen in fear at the top of the basement stairs. He could see the container of wax at the bottom, right next to the giant water puddle, the frayed sparking wires, and the revving chainsaw. But those things aren't what filled Georgie with fright. No, it was the small spider spinning it's web directly in front of him. The spider however was busy and didn't have time to worry about some dumb kid's need to get some wax. In fact, he was really hoping Georgie would stop staring at him soon because he was making the spider anxious. Unbeknownst to Georgie the spider already had a diagnosed anxiety issue and needed to get his prescriptions refilled, so he really didn't need this shit on his plate today.<br />
<br />
Georgie took a big gulp of air, pulled on the little strings dangling from his rain hat for courage, and darted quickly past the spider. He then jumped over the broken step covered in slippery grease, ducked under the hanging beam with a nail sticking out of it, and dodged the rabid raccoon as it grasped for his young throat.<br />
<br />
"That raccoon is getting annoying," Georgie said to no one in particular. He quickly grabbed the wax as he made his way out the cellar door on the other side of the basement, which was open the whole time and would have been a much easier mode of entry despite having to go outside to access it. But, that would have been easy, and Georgie always had to do things the difficult way. Not because he saw it as an opportunity to challenge himself and better his own circumstances by overcoming obstacles. No, no, it was much simpler than that. He was stupid, you see.<br />
<br />
"T-t-t-took you l-l-l-long enough," stuttered Bill as Georgie nonchalantly tossed him the can of wax. The can spun in the air before it hit Bill right in the face. The can then bounced once before landing right side up on the desk in front of him. His face hurt like hell.<br />
<br />
"Hurry up!" Georgie exclaimed as Bill hurriedly sealed the boat with the wax. "By the time you're finished it will be snowing!" Georgie made a smug face, displaying the pride he had in his lame joke. Bill scowled, took the sharpie lying on his desk, and wrote "SS Dipshit" on the side of the boat. Georgie furrowed his eyebrows at the sight; he was not pleased. Georgie reached for boat but Bill pulled it away at the last second.<br />
<br />
"Aren't you g-g-g-gonna say th-th-th-thank you?" said Bill. Georgie took a deep sigh, and looked his brother in the eyes.<br />
<br />
"Fuck you Bill, give me my boat," Georgie said as he punched his brother lovingly in the chest. He grabbed the boat as Bill doubled over in pain, then zipped out of the room while screaming "Biiiiiiiitch" as he ran down the stairs, middle fingers dancing in the air. Bill grabbed his bruised ego which was located in the general chest area, closed his eyes, and quietly made a wish...<br />
<br />
"I hope that asshole gets eaten by a clown."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
The SS Dipshit raced down the street, caught up in the heavy stream caused by the pounding rain. Georgie happily skipped behind it, singing "I Am Sixteen Going On Seventeen" loudly, even though that was the only line from the song that he knew. In his bright yellow rain slicker with matching boots, Georgie looked like quite the dandy. He raced past Old Man McGruger, who shook his head as Georgie ducked under one road barricade only to emerge and run face first into the second one. SS Dipshit indeed.<br />
<br />
As Georgie recovered from his new head injury, the SS Dipshit rounded the corner and dropped into the only open storm drain in the entire city of Derry. This happened because Georgie was a class A doofus who couldn't be bothered to plan ahead and keep his dumb little boat from going into the sewer. Georgie peered into the dark drain, looking for any sign of his boat.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, two yellow eyes, as yellow as Georgie's yellow slicker and boot combo, appeared in the dark. Georgie screamed, but not a normal scream. This was the kind of scream that was really overdramatic. The kind that made you want to find the source of the scream so you could punch it into stopping. Georgie had a very annoying scream, is what I'm getting at.<br />
<br />
"Hey, knock it off," said the yellow eyes. Georgie looked back at the source of the voice. The owner of the eyes and the voice leaned forward, revealing a white face and red nose. Above the yellow eyes sat a mat of swirling red hair and forehead the size of a drive-in movie theater screen. Georgie looked at the red hair, then the red nose, then the white face, and then back again at the red hair. It took him a long time to put it all together. It was so long in fact that the silence was growing awkward, and the clown looked like he was getting frustrated.<br />
<br />
"Hey," Georgie said, finally. "You're a clown."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I am," replied the clown.<br />
<br />
"Got a name, do ya?" asked Georgie.<br />
<br />
"My name is Pennywise," said the clown.<br />
<br />
"What, like the punk rock band?" asked Georgie, who shouldn't have any idea of that band's existence.<br />
<br />
"No, they took their name from me," said the clown. "I was here first."<br />
<br />
"So your name is Pennywise the Clown?" Georgie said, stupidly.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," said Pennywise as he adjusted his comically large collar. He was wearing a silver onesie with a large victorian style collar the completely covered his neck. The red puff balls on his outfit were fuzzy and sharp, and his makeup was expertly applied. Despite how odd he appeared, he looked quite nice for a clown hanging out in a dark sewer drain.<br />
<br />
"Why are you dressed like you're doing Shakespeare in the park?" asked Georgie.<br />
<br />
"Why are you dressed like a banana?" shot back Pennywise, clearly annoyed.<br />
<br />
"M-my mom picked this out for me," said Georgie, obviously lying.<br />
<br />
"Whatever. Is this yours?" asked Pennywise as he held up the SS Dipshit.<br />
<br />
"My boat! You found my boat!" exclaimed Georgie as he clasped his hands together in glee. Pennywise winced at this, as if he was uncomfortable with Georgie's childish joy.<br />
<br />
"So you're the captain of this ship huh? Do you want it back?" asked Pennywise. Georgie started to reach in, but recoiled. His parents had warned him about strangers, and Georgie was ready to combat any and all dangers.<br />
<br />
"Are you a pedophile?" asked Georgie.<br />
<br />
"Uh, no," said Pennywise.<br />
<br />
"Super promise you're not a pedophile?" Georgie said, crossing his arms.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I super promise I'm not a pedophile," said Pennywise, who was getting really impatient at this point.<br />
<br />
"Double super promise you're not a pedophile?" asked Georgie, who made one of those faces that kids think are cute but it just makes you want to kick them.<br />
<br />
"Kid I've got places to be, do you want the boat or not?" asked the clown.<br />
<br />
Georgie, bent down and slowly reached into the drain. He could smell the stale popcorn and malt liquor on Pennywise's breath. As his fingers grazed the boat he recoiled, stood up, and shot Pennywise a scowl.<br />
<br />
"Are you going to rip my arm off and drag my body into the sewer?" asked Georgie.<br />
<br />
Pennywise paused, really considering what Georgie had asked. After a long time he looked up at the boy and said, "I dunno, maybe."<br />
<br />
Georgie weighed his options. If he reached into the drain there was probably a 50% chance the clown was going to rip his arm off. If he went home without the boat, there was a 100% chance Bill was going to kick his ass. Erring on the side of caution, Georgie decided the clown probably wasn't going to rip his arm off and drag his body into the sewer.<br />
<br />
So Georgie reached into the drain, and the clown did just that.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Coming soon, if I feel like it: Part 2</u></div>
<br />Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-78140433838594601662019-05-09T21:18:00.001+01:002020-06-10T20:52:35.227+01:00Marvel's Infinity Saga Power Rankings: Every MCU Movie From Worst to Best<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TFLW7ylsg5j-HBChFhQINwnz_3iDJyN8yvZ8c5OB5iP9IMvH2xZMo4saZVdvGhyphenhyphenLyoZRQZD4mgUN0Zj-qiwm3SG4ohwhuzUq3EJcajpIOi5u_x2398aMY35oMUEqT3LQ3kLSC9-3IUA/s1600/marvel+studios.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TFLW7ylsg5j-HBChFhQINwnz_3iDJyN8yvZ8c5OB5iP9IMvH2xZMo4saZVdvGhyphenhyphenLyoZRQZD4mgUN0Zj-qiwm3SG4ohwhuzUq3EJcajpIOi5u_x2398aMY35oMUEqT3LQ3kLSC9-3IUA/s400/marvel+studios.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't know if you've noticed, but Avengers: Endgame is out and is making all of the money. It's also being aggressively slurped by everyone I know, and such slavish praise must be met with some aggressive criticism to balance it out. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimpfIEU5HODAdD4v-aK3rBhSw0t2Ic4Vh2fNun6m-uQqTarHJT8Esmq9ml2FPtfRhges_jNkPAK80TudjV6inh7-sFDoEHZQt5YfOGAsOEwjHr1i4ANWOLKGI6DWCG2MoEeBMbsPprVkg/s1600/perfectly+balanced.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="500" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimpfIEU5HODAdD4v-aK3rBhSw0t2Ic4Vh2fNun6m-uQqTarHJT8Esmq9ml2FPtfRhges_jNkPAK80TudjV6inh7-sFDoEHZQt5YfOGAsOEwjHr1i4ANWOLKGI6DWCG2MoEeBMbsPprVkg/s400/perfectly+balanced.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh, <i>that's</i> what that means.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But, since I enjoy Marvel movies (most of them, anyway) and I also enjoy making lists, why not just judge every Marvel movie individually in a 5,000 word article that will take me 7 days to complete? Since I'm a glutton for punishment and I crave your hatred like a baby boomer craves an "All Lives Matter" rally, here's the definitive list of every Marvel movie from worst to best. It's the only one of it's kind on the internet!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I await your scorn.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZP4BwkckkkeX_LX7PqiECuw4mTOKqnIotyCczom_vhn4nai3-uiQE3UJQGsrenVn69PdNwrMiw3VrvYH3l9kJSZ2-h-3AyggL66-smqW2qPzejN6iPgW6GToVz85jBvGJXTR_mVqoaA/s1600/the-incredible-hulk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZP4BwkckkkeX_LX7PqiECuw4mTOKqnIotyCczom_vhn4nai3-uiQE3UJQGsrenVn69PdNwrMiw3VrvYH3l9kJSZ2-h-3AyggL66-smqW2qPzejN6iPgW6GToVz85jBvGJXTR_mVqoaA/s400/the-incredible-hulk.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">22. The Incredible Hulk</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Incredible Hulk is often thought of as Marvel's forgotten son, and for good reason. There are a lot of people out there that are Incredible Hulk apologists, but I say those people either A) Haven't seen it, or B) Haven't seen it in so long it's now cool to say "Uh, it's not that bad, it's actually a hidden gem." Fuck those people. And if you're one of them, <i>fuck you specifically.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Incredible Hulk is the only Phase 1 Marvel film that didn't become a franchise, so that should tell you something. Many people will blame the fact that Universal owns the distributing rights to any and all Hulk movies as the reason more Hulk films haven't been made, and there may be some truth to that. But, what they often don't mention is that the movie itself blows ass. It's a boring slog of a film that tries so desperately to checkmark all the right boxes that it ends up missing them completely. The cast is uninspired (save for William Hurt's Thunderbolt Ross) and Edward Norton is surprisingly not the guy to garner any kind of sympathy for struggling to control a <a href="https://www.timesnownews.com/entertainment/news/international-news/article/heres-why-original-mcu-hulk-edward-norton-was-replaced-by-mark-ruffalo-in-avengers-infinity-war/208273">difficult to deal with</a> rage monster. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On a plane I once had the choice of watching The Incredible Hulk, or the flight attendant pass out beverages. I chose to aggressively watch the passing of peanuts and drinks for 20 minutes, then sat quietly and stared at all the people going in and out of the bathroom until we were ready to land. I feel like I made the right choice.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWANklvsI7fD1ZY8pL_CIGPKWyN5jiWD6L5Mu-ZFru1wV4W0jEfudboDDv4WD4RsKxFnpLdwyWvhfB4Ds5lj9m24t4S74VOO851UATeBSaJKqc4lp2Gl5bI_GfhI5iZ_8a2K0NrTbEigI/s1600/Road-to-Endgame-Iron-Man-2-1-700x312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="700" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWANklvsI7fD1ZY8pL_CIGPKWyN5jiWD6L5Mu-ZFru1wV4W0jEfudboDDv4WD4RsKxFnpLdwyWvhfB4Ds5lj9m24t4S74VOO851UATeBSaJKqc4lp2Gl5bI_GfhI5iZ_8a2K0NrTbEigI/s400/Road-to-Endgame-Iron-Man-2-1-700x312.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">21. Iron Man 2</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jesus Christ, with this movie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't even know where to start. When I watched Iron Man 2 I felt embarrassed for everyone involved, including myself. It's a shame because the cast tried really hard, but there was nothing they could do; sometimes a turd is just a turd, no matter how much CGI you use to make it dance. Sam Rockwell -- one of my favorite actors in any medium -- makes me cringe when he shows up as Justin Hammer, who is basically the RC Cola to Tony Stark's Coke. Actually, he's not even RC; he's grocery store brand. You know the one that's just a bland can that says "Soda" on it? That's Justin Hammer. Oh, and Mickey Rourke is an angry Russian (because of "reasons") who has an affinity for expensive birds, and he tries to kill you with electrical whips. Awesome. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is the type of movie you convince yourself is good because you want it to be <i>so badly. </i>Then you see better movies and realize that you've wasted a lot of time and energy defending such a boring, poorly made, full diaper of a flick. In summary, Iron Man 2 is very, very, very bad.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8EP24SORgljlYO3IVLijQZ9BhNGEAqaKIb4ZU7DQ3HUQtjfNzSM6XZJztlYK5NfpGlZVsA2TI1cGZuMfZfE9CvnxmQKqknd6fCII6yq_ldpudK2w35geKGUEqYIWuVuSyxWkAnxRGio/s1600/Unknown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="147" data-original-width="343" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8EP24SORgljlYO3IVLijQZ9BhNGEAqaKIb4ZU7DQ3HUQtjfNzSM6XZJztlYK5NfpGlZVsA2TI1cGZuMfZfE9CvnxmQKqknd6fCII6yq_ldpudK2w35geKGUEqYIWuVuSyxWkAnxRGio/s400/Unknown.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">20. Thor: The Dark World</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you wanna talk about phoning it in, Natalie Portman might as well have been a living, breathing dial tone. I've never seen an actor less interested in taking part in a film they were being paid millions of dollars to appear in. That said, it's hard to blame her for not giving it her all because Thor: The Dark World is so painfully dull it's hard to care about anything that happens. Out of all the MCU films this one is probably the most disappointing because the cast is fucking stacked. You've got a handsome undercover comedic genius in Hemsworth, a fantastic character actor in Tom Hiddleston (who is mopping the floor with everyone else whenever Loki is on screen), and two Oscar winning heavyweights in Portman and Anthony "Hannibal f'ng Lector" Hopkins. That's without even mentioning Idris Elba, Rene Russo, Christopher Eccleston, and Stellen</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Skarsgård. Lord have mercy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The perfect word to surmise this film is "wasted." Everything about it. Wasted potential, wasted actors, wasted story. What a let down.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">19. Captain Marvel</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before we move on it needs to be stated that there is no bigger jump in quality between films than here. Captain Marvel isn't a bad flick. Brie Larson is very good as Carol Danvers, and when she's kicking ass it's so righteous and earned. I don't even care about the fact that they changed the gender/origins of Mar-Vell for the movie because comic books are stupid melodrama and should be different when you're trying to tell a certain kind of story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The problem with this movie is that for a good portion of the 1st and 2nd acts, it's boring. Not unforgivably boring mind you, but just dull enough where I started checking my phone and didn't even mind if I missed out on plot elements (I didn't mind you, because the majority of Marvel movies are so paint-by-numbers I could fill in plot beats in my sleep). I think if Captain Marvel had come out in the first phase of MCU movies it would be regarded more fondly, but a lot of this movie made me think "been there, done that" and that's kind of a problem. I don't ask a lot from Marvel. "Don't bore me" is a pretty low bar for a super-hero movie. Captain Marvel succeeded in creating female representation in their films, but it failed to live up to all of it's potential. Maybe the sequels will be better.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">18. Doctor Strange</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Captain Marvel and Doctor Strange would better be categorized as 18.a and 18.b, because they both have the same strengths and problems. Where Doctor Strange gets the edge though is the baller visual effects that made me think I was rolling while I sat in the theater with a big gulp between my thighs. Seriously, if you had told me you put acid in my soda before the movie I would have said "Yeah, that explains it." What a friggin' ride. I've had mushroom trips that are less jarring than the mirror dimension scenes in Doctor Strange, and I once spent 4 hours laying on an inflatable turtle staring at the stars thinking about how infinite the universe is. That movie <i>fucked</i> with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">With that aside, Cumberbatch's Doctor Strange isn't my favorite. He is clearly trying to be the magic equivalent of Tony Stark, which honestly doesn't do much for me. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When Robert Downey Jr. is being sardonic it's charming. When Cumberbatch is doing the same thing it comes off as nasty and cynical. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just like in the comics, Doctor Strange works better as a supporting character instead of a lead. That way you can hide some of his less appealing characteristics. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Plus, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've seen the "giant asshole becomes less of an asshole" story arc enough times at this point that I don't think a rehash with a less compelling character is necessary. </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">17. Avengers: Age of Ultron</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The least interesting Avengers movie has earned it's title simply by being just that: Not that interesting. Don't get me wrong; it tries very hard, and it even pulls off some of the bigger swings it takes (James Spader as Ultron, and the introductions of the Maximoffs and Vision all worked very well), but when it misses it throws the bat into the dugout and kills the mascot (Thor in a future telling bathtub to set up other movies, lame dialogue, Coby Smolders doing anything). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What the movie does do very well is handle the core cast of characters. I'm not as keen on Joss Whedon as creative force as a lot of other people are, but he knows how to get out of his own way and let the characters have moments that make them feel like real people. The scenes at Hawkeye's farm are probably my favorite in the movie, because we actually get to see the Avengers struggle and relate to each other on a level that felt fresh, even if we have seen it before. That, and watching Captain America rip a log to shreds is just metal as hell.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">16. Ant-Man</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For a film that shouldn't (and doesn't) work (for the most part) Ant-Man sure is fun. A large part of that can be attributed to the absolutely perfect casting of Paul Rudd as Scott Lang, an endlessly charming man who I would watch star in a movie about me getting my ass kicked for 3 hours. I'd smile while watching him knock my own teeth out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That said, Ant-Man doesn't hit enough cylinders to really be anything other than fine. The villain Yellowjacket suffers from the same issues most MCU villains do (what is their motivation beyond the one-note "I'm evil for evil's sake" lapse in logic) and the movie has some severe pacing problems. It does have a lot of charm though, and charm will get you pretty far if not all the way.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">15. Thor</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before we knew Chris Hemsworth was a talented comedic actor with god-given timing, he was shoe-horned into the traditional superhero archetype. In theory, nothing about this movie should work. It's a ridiculous premise set in a world that doesn't make sense with characters that lean so heavy into the Shakespearian dialect that it becomes nauseating. And yet, it <i>does</i>. It works pretty well. When Thor is on earth and the movie becomes a full on fish out of water tale, it really picks up. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Plus Loki. Loki! This guy had a great story that was easy to identify with.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A lot of us feel like the odd duck in a room full of swans, so Loki finding out he's an adopted Frost Giant and not an Asgardian is enough to make him question his entire existence. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Don't get me wrong, this movie has tons of problems; the explanation that magic is basically science is flimsy and doesn't make much sense, Kat Dennings is extremely unnecessary, and the track-laying for the rest of the MCU was so blatant the movie might as well have been called "You Need to See This to Understand The Avengers." But, despite all of it's flaws it's a fun introduction to a character that we will grow to love, and created a franchise that wouldn't really get good until the third movie.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">14. Captain America: Civil War </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A completely enjoyable, bloated mess. I understand the urge to utilize the universe you created to make every movie in your lineup feel like a big deal, but sometimes less is absolutely more. But, if you're going to go whole hog you might as well do it in style, and Civil War certainly gives it their all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The real shame is that under all of the fan service there's a pretty decent story being told about the impact of loss. Bucky is a tortured soldier that just wants to be left alone to figure out his shit and the world won't let him. Cap wants to help his friend. Tony wants to make the world safer because he's suffering from alien-induced PTSD. And Zemo -- the villain of the film -- wants to destroy the Avengers because he blames them for the deaths of his wife and child. The movie covers some really heavy shit and it actually has something to say, but unfortunately it gets overshadowed by the brightly colored superhero punchathon. </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">13. Avengers: Endgame</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">God, I can feel people getting angry and I haven't even hit the "publish" button yet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Look, I don't dislike fan service. When done well, it fucking rules. From Professor Hulk to Cap wielding Mjolnir to that insanely epic 11th hour save from the entire MCU hero stable leading to Steve Rogers finally uttering the lines "Avengers Assemble." All of those moments are insanely satisfying and good. What I don't enjoy is when fan service is done at the expense of the narrative. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">All time travel stories are weird and stupid. They make fun of that very fact in this movie to great effect. So in order to make time travel work for their story in a way that's unique, they establish rules. I'm not going to go too far into the weeds on this because I don't want to get too spoilery with this post, but in summation here is what you need to know: The movie makes rules about time travel, and then effectively breaks them at the end so they can have a cute passing of the torch moment. If you think about it for more than a second it breaks the movie. It's bad writing, bad fan service, and is 100% everything I hate about comic books rolled into one melodramatic moment. My opinion on this matter has already garnered me scorn and ridicule by people telling me "It's a comic book movie, stop thinking about it so much! Why do you even care?" Here's why I care <i>dipshit</i>. If Marvel isn't willing to take their own world seriously, why should I have to? Fuck me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If fan service is all you're looking for, then this is probably your favorite movie in the world. More power to you. The rest of the movie is very good, and they really hit you in the feels with one character's requiem and the hole he left behind (also that "cheeseburgers" bit made me want to crawl into a ball and die it was so touching). If you care about story and things making sense, then welcome my friend. The gallows are lonely, but our opinion will be validated in years to come when the shine has worn off and everyone is wondering how/why that dude's old ass was on that bench. Light my cigarette and cover my eyes, I'm ready for Valhalla. </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">12. Avengers: Infinity War</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanos fucking rules. I feel like I'm going to be arguing on behalf of this superiority of Infinity War to Endgame for the rest of my life. Yes, it's bloated. Yes, it's hard to follow. Yes, it ends on a downer. But, at the end of the day, this movie did something I didn't think was possible; it accomplished it's goal of setting up a big finale film that was satisfying (for the most part) and it made Thanos a real, fully fleshed out character.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before Infinity War Thanos was just this looming, goofy looking presence. He was Grimace with armor. He didn't even look like a threat. Then he rolled the Hulk in the first 5 minutes of Infinity War, and suddenly he wasn't a goober anymore. He was a conqueror who was here to kick ass and collect jewelry, and brother, he got ALL the jewelry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A lot of the success has to do with Josh Brolin's performance. Yes it's fun to watch the Avengers team up with the rest of the MCU, but this was Thanos's story, and Brolin's skills as an actor really made me empathize with this Mr. Munch looking motherfucker's point of view. Don't get me wrong, he's a lunatic for sure. No matter how good his intentions are, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">he pretty much lost the moral high ground</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the second he decided to use the all powerful MacGuffin to murder half the universe instead of doubling the resources. What's important though is that the movie made me consider his point of view and form my own opinion, which is something that a lot of Marvel movies lack. </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">11. Ant-Man and the Wasp</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Did I really put Ant-Man and the Wasp ahead of Infinity War AND Endgame? Yeah I did, because Ant-Man and the Wasp didn't take an hour to get to the point, and it didn't leave me feeling depressed and angry. A lot of these MCU films are large in scale; everything is a world/universe threatening event, the stakes are huge, millions of lives are on the line. Not this time. Ant-Man and the Wasp is just</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> a fun little movie that's frankly a breath of fresh air. It's nice to know that not every Marvel film needs to have huge world-ending stakes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ant-Man and the Wasp is everything good about it's predecessor, but better. Paul Rudd's endless charm drives the film, and Evangeline Lilly really gets a chance to shine as his no-nonsense partner in crime. She kicks more ass than Rudd for sure, and she's a great straight man. I also love when a super-hero movie is self-aware enough to knows how silly it is. They play with the physics of shrinking and growing in more enjoyable ways in this sequel, and they never get too far up their own ass with the more heavy-handed stuff. I really don't have much else to say about Ant-Man and the Wasp other than I really enjoyed the break it provided from the rest of the MCU's high-stakes bravado so they could tell a funny heist story.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">10. Spider-Man: Homecoming</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If I was ranking Spider-Man movies, this would be #1. And yeah, I think it's even better than Into the Spider-Verse, don't @ me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We've seen Peter Parker before, but never in this context. I'll forever praise this movie for skipping the origin story and just giving me what I want; a teenage Spider-Man trying to juggle the life of a superhero with his high school responsibilities. Too many times the Spider-Man films indulge the urge to make Peter Parker more serious than he needs to be. This flick made him fun again (and funny, finally) and I found myself just smiling throughout the experience. When it was over I walked out of the theater I was in and walked directly into an adjacent theater that was right around the halfway mark, sat down, and watched it again until the end. What can I say? It's a fun way to kill an afternoon.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">9. Iron Man 3</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What if a superhero had PTSD? That's the question Iron Man 3 dared to ask. I'm usually in the minority here, but I think Shane Black (who replaced Jon Favreau in the directors chair) did some compelling work with this film, and he took some interesting risks. The movie was constantly subverting expectations. Movie franchise about a dude that controls super weaponized armor? Take it away from him. Think the bad guy is a horrific and terrifying terrorist? Surprise! He's a non-threatening actor addicted to narcotics. Think Pepper Potts is the damsel in distress? Watch out, she will <i>fuck you up</i>. All the while Tony is having panic attacks because he almost died battling aliens and a literal god, and he spends the whole movie trying to get his shit together enough to save the day. Great stuff.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">8. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 doesn't have the same charm that the first Guardians movie did, but it more than makes up for it with character development and a genuinely moving final act. The first Guardians movie was about finding a family in the most unlikely places. The sequel asks the question "Okay, so you've found your tribe. Now what?" </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you'll allow me to change-up the allegories for a second, consider the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> first Guardians movie is about finding and falling in love. Vol. 2 takes place in the part of a relationship just after the honeymoon phase where it starts to get messy, awkward, and vulnerable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Vol. 2 isn't the smoothest ride in the MCU but it's certainly one of the most endearing, and it has a payoff with Quill's personal journey to find his father (played expertly by old pro Kurt Russell). It takes a while to get there, but eventually Peter realizes that his dad is a dick, and that Yondu -- the space pirate who kidnapped and raised/tortured him with threats of eating him ("That was being funny!") -- was the father he never realized he had. Every Guardian has a similar arc; Gamora and Nebula coming to terms with their relationship, Rocket struggles to adjust from the life of a loner into that of a family man, and Drax finds a surrogate daughter in Mantis to replace the one he lost. It's a surprisingly touching film that displays the emotional range of a CGI raccoon in ways you didn't realize were possible. It's a sweet movie about fathers and sons, sisters and daughters, and trees and trash pandas. </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">7. The Avengers</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Whereas Endgame might be the most emotional and Infinity War might be the most important, the first Avengers movie is unquestionably the most fun. Joss Whedon gets a lot of slavish praise from fanboys and fangirls that I normally don't think is deserved. There's a lot of cheese thinly spread all over his scripts, and The Avengers is no exception. For every clever line of dialogue (which Whedon is really good at) there's a lot of dumb melodrama that negates it (throwing the bloody cards on the table was so transparent it made my brother literally laugh out loud in a packed theater). The movie tries to be cooler than it is and fails more than it succeeds, but honestly that's what makes it work.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Comic books by nature are hokey and over-dramatic. Sure they're colorful and fun, but if you flip through any copy of an X-Men comic you'll notice that it's like reading a bad soap opera with people in costumes. It can be compelling, but you have to suffer through a lot of boring bullshit to get to the good stuff. Out of all the MCU movies The Avengers is the closest thing I've seen to a comic book come to life. It's kind of dumb, pretty dorky, and some of the dialogue and character moments makes you roll your eyes. But, then the Hulk smashes and he smashes <i>so well</i>, and suddenly all is forgiven. It's exactly like reading a comic book, faults and all. The Avengers is a love letter to the medium it was born from, and for that I can't help but be charmed by it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>6. Iron Man</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My favorite thing about the first Iron Man movie was that it was Marvel saying "We're here, and we're not fucking around." It took a B-level super-hero property, a leading man that burned so many bridges in Hollywood that he was seen as a liability, and a director that specialized in Vince Vaughn comedies (woof) all while attempting to launch an entire universe from a studio that had never attempted to self-finance before. On paper it looked like it was going to be a disaster.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But, it worked. It worked <i>very</i> well. Robert Downey Jr.'s portrayal of Tony Stark was mesmerizing. The story was grounded and made sense, if the 2nd act kind of petered out. The cast was stacked and they delivered on all fronts. It's not the best MCU movie, but it's definitely the most important. I</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">t's a fun popcorn flick that launched an empire. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>5. Guardians of the Galaxy</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guardians of the Galaxy isn't a perfect movie. It suffers from the classic Marvel villain problem (Lee Pace's Ronan the Accuser is one of the most forgettable in the MCU) there's not a ton of suspense, and the jokes don't always work. However the positives outweigh the negatives in every aspect due to the fact that it leaned into the film's biggest strength; the movie is just so goddamn weird. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Seriously, go back to 2008 and tell yourself that one of Marvel's most entertaining films would be about an orphan kid growing up to be a space outlaw who teams up with a serial killer, a musclebound goober with rage issues, a talking raccoon, and a anthropomorphic tree to save the universe. That sounds like a fever dream. But, it rules. It rules <i>so hard.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guardians of the Galaxy couldn't have worked without James Gunn at the helm. The dude lives and breaths oddball shit. He somehow managed to take a property that no one even considered would get a movie with a bunch of D-list characters from Marvel's stable, and he made them household names. I don't know if they have Oscars for pulling off miracles, but if so just give them all to James Gunn because holy shit. Guardians of the Galaxy is entertaining, silly, and surprisingly touching. Oh, and did I mention it's <i>fucking weird</i>? Because it is. Also, the soundtrack kicks major ass.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>4. Captain America: The First Avenger</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This film checks a lot of boxes for me. Underdog story: check. Period piece: check. Fun action sequences: check. Nazi punching: check, check, check. I don't know what it is about this movie that charms me the most. In a vacuum the story doesn't really sound interesting; a scrawny nerd gets ingested with super steroids and wins World War 2 by throwing a shield. That's a gross misrepresentation, but you get my point. But, the truth of it is that as far as origin stories go it's pretty captivating, and it hits that warm part of your brain that loves nostalgia for an era you didn't even live through. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think when it comes down to it, Chris Evans' portrayal of Steve Rogers was so true and convincing that it tied the whole movie together. I was surprised when they casted Jake Wyler to portray America's favorite son, but the dude surprised me. He's earnest, sincere, and looks like a greek god. Not to mention the rest of the cast was perfect in their roles. Hayley Atwell is exceptionally good as Peggy Carter, Hugo Weaving already looks like a Nazi so he was ideal to throw some red paint on to portray the Red Skull, and Tommy Lee Jones is perfectly cast as a no-nonsense quippy Colonel. I could watch that grizzled old bastard chew the scenery all day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you want fun war movie dripping with nostalgia and wrapped in a super-hero bow, look no further than Captain America: The First Avenger. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26EJAeSDtkGte8yt3W3dIFrZ6tWp-V0qNz8yXtWdLe0rYp6jUGLc36SfQpyou9fykQ_ELjsbfRtxvdsSQ2R3t0HTcpRPuoHJcT4ouFhhqPgMBAou_9gLugkqrkWcOvvgs27Nhsd9j3cU/s1600/ragnarok.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1024" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26EJAeSDtkGte8yt3W3dIFrZ6tWp-V0qNz8yXtWdLe0rYp6jUGLc36SfQpyou9fykQ_ELjsbfRtxvdsSQ2R3t0HTcpRPuoHJcT4ouFhhqPgMBAou_9gLugkqrkWcOvvgs27Nhsd9j3cU/s400/ragnarok.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>3. Thor: Ragnarok</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who knew all it took to make Thor work on the big screen was to just lean into how stupid the whole thing is? Nothing about Thor makes sense. An alien who is also a god that has a magic flying hammer that only he can lift is part of a culture that is magical and wondrous but also, science somehow? It doesn't really hold up once you try and unpack it. Previous installments were dead set on taking the source material seriously, and the movies were all the weaker for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enter Take Waititi, who basically said "fuck all that, let's make an action comedy and I'm going to play a rock monster who's kind of a nice dude." Ragnarok does away with all the dumb hangups Marvel had with magic and science basically being the same thing and just ran with the stupidity of it all. Hemsworth really gets to show off what an infuriatingly good comedic actor he is, it has the best parts of the Planet Hulk story converted into a Thor story, and Jeff Goldblum is in it and just owning every scene. I could go on and on, but instead just go watch the movie. And after that, watch this short about Goldblum's Grandmaster moving to earth to live with a dude named Darryl:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What a joy. We don't deserve Jeff Goldblum. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTPKexa3sIJr_ENYY1FBBWamKHX8VlA1cfSDh_rqiCP4H4FprTgylx33R9R9dtWNhuQt3rocl-JWgLoAiBlLGoTpMFESRKWZB2qmTGztckpS-Ro7M4tVcaIKBLEXzQd23wYdkEY1HxHY/s1600/Winter+Soldier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="145" data-original-width="347" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTPKexa3sIJr_ENYY1FBBWamKHX8VlA1cfSDh_rqiCP4H4FprTgylx33R9R9dtWNhuQt3rocl-JWgLoAiBlLGoTpMFESRKWZB2qmTGztckpS-Ro7M4tVcaIKBLEXzQd23wYdkEY1HxHY/s400/Winter+Soldier.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>2. Captain America: The Winter Soldier</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I couldn't believe this was a comic book movie. Seriously, try explaining the plot of this film to someone that has never read a comic book and they would probably say it sounds like a John Grisham novel. If you remove all of the comic book aspects out of The Winter Soldier it still works as an engaging spy thriller. It's one of the most enjoyable experiences I had in a theater that surprised me in ways that the movie didn't intend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What I'm talking about is tone. The tone of the film, and how tense and suspenseful the entire thing feels. It's a breath of fresh air in the sea of Marvel films that rely on a particular formula to tell their stories. Most MCU movies are full of quips and jokes to help balance out the action and melodrama. Winter Soldier isn't without those moments, but they never feel forced and they certainly don't drive the film. The suspense of the movie keeps you engaged, and the Hydra twist was genuinely surprising and ballsy. Winter Soldier was the first movie in the MCU that had bigger ideas and had the gumption to chase after them. Plus, adding Robert Redford to the cast was a stroke of genius. What better way to make your superhero story feel like a political thriller than to add the guy that represented the genre? Well played, Marvel.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeCpp7H8UYl8AbjvevOA7xDNFNlf4GF3v42lcLoiv9ciz6H4y7WY7ADyk0xdNMGDqTKUZr5wltp_UeTMiebALMcobyJMPC7qAGBx9zQ2PM2D50M6IlBCyZHHJSALq66031DTLS73J4pw/s1600/Black+Panther.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeCpp7H8UYl8AbjvevOA7xDNFNlf4GF3v42lcLoiv9ciz6H4y7WY7ADyk0xdNMGDqTKUZr5wltp_UeTMiebALMcobyJMPC7qAGBx9zQ2PM2D50M6IlBCyZHHJSALq66031DTLS73J4pw/s400/Black+Panther.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">1. Black Panther</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Marvel has a very specific formula that they follow with their films; I've heard it described as "the heroes journey with quips." It's not a bad formula, but it does become tiresome after 20 laps around the track. When I sat down to watch Black Panther I expected more of the same; a hero struggles to overcome adversity from an antagonist who is oftentimes evil for unspecified reasons, but ultimately prevails with a mix of gumption and strength obtained from some sort of self-discovery in the third act. From man of iron to man of spider, we've seen it played out over and over again to much success. Wash, rinse, repeat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What I didn't expect from Black Panther, however, was to be asked to consider hard questions about morality. The film isn't just a movie about Marvel's first truly ethnically diverse superhero, it's a movie about black issues in today's climate. The hiring of Ryan Coogler to direct should have tipped me off. As director's go, Coogler cares more about issues such as power dynamics and racial inequality than most. The film tackles issues like tradition vs. change, freedom vs. bondage, and the consequences of duty when it's at the expense of family. There's a lot to unpack, and the movie is all the richer for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A lot of the praise goes to the cast, which is stellar. But, probably the runaway star of the film isn't the hero T'Challa played by Chadwick Boseman, but the villainous Killmonger played by Michael B. Jordan. Throughout the film Killmonger's overarching plan comes into fruition as well as his motivation. He believes that Wakanda -- an incredibly advanced culture that has secluded itself form the world due to xenophobia -- needs to do more to help marginalized black people around the world. Granted he'd rather send weapons around the world to start a revolution rather than aide, but that's what makes him the bad guy instead of the hero. But, he's a bad guy with a good point which makes him all the more fascinating. When the two of them finally come to blows in the 2nd act you can not only see what Killmonger's motivations are, but you can understand why. The movie has a ton of nuance that gave me several things to think about after the credits rolled. Hard questions that I wasn't prepared to even consider. It's insane.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I could go on about how much I enjoyed this movie, but I think you get the point. I usually don't ask a lot from Marvel movies; all I request is A) don't be boring and B) try to give me something to chew on beyond the action scenes. This movie didn't just give me a little taste of pathos, it hit me with a goddamn buffet. The other movies in the MCU are fun, but Black Panther raised the bar. Plain and simple.</span>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-56231351899298259152019-05-03T14:53:00.000+01:002019-05-06T02:20:13.860+01:00Down in the Knob: A Groundhog Day Docu-Venture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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On February 2nd, 2019 (in the year of our lord), Andrew Johnson and <a href="https://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-had-no-idea-i-had-editor.html">Robert Hibbs </a>disappeared near Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania while shooting a documentary. </div>
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A few days later their footage was found. It is really dumb and not worth your time. That said, here is the most useful footage we could cobble together for the sake of posterity.</div>
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Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0Punxsutawney, PA 15767, USA40.9436753 -78.9708668000000140.9196873 -79.011207300000009 40.967663300000005 -78.930526300000011tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-69697375371360181462019-05-02T20:27:00.000+01:002019-05-03T15:38:31.893+01:00Diary of a Mad Black Bear<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjic8rRmx2llXakV_3mz3YyHTg_iXWlQw1GLU6g2-b4HPsVHnWtntpEOjmqsantNuHYYJCiNs0i9aGfSka3AQ33FYYIo1NOO2pz9EFcvf3N4aciTCjMd_vBbsl_Bw81o_hyphenhyphenthhJxtdwIic/s1600/asiatic-black-bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjic8rRmx2llXakV_3mz3YyHTg_iXWlQw1GLU6g2-b4HPsVHnWtntpEOjmqsantNuHYYJCiNs0i9aGfSka3AQ33FYYIo1NOO2pz9EFcvf3N4aciTCjMd_vBbsl_Bw81o_hyphenhyphenthhJxtdwIic/s400/asiatic-black-bear.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This past winter I decided to go hiking in the woods, and found an old diary. I thought the contents of it were quite strange, and I wanted to share them with you today.<br />
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<i>March 18, 2007</i><br />
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Hibernation over. Very hungry. Looking over at female I spent winter with. She looked better in the fall. Feeling a little sick. Need to find way out without waking her. Finished rest of food, pooped on floor, went outside. Sniff air, smells of pine. I hate pine.<br />
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Female has woken up, complains about poop floor. I'm going to bite her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG5GOCdc-ggzo2jsnRDZhdIpkDFF_5eG_mYw0uHSTFhtpNK7DgyrxkgW-uS5KcW7LfwEzx52zHEv1JjpewWsTIMkat39_99QeRXUS7jHGZoP7_1-FHydeZmIgv4up35QUFKZR2Qdb570/s1600/Louisiana_Black_Bears_Protection_67138-780x520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="780" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG5GOCdc-ggzo2jsnRDZhdIpkDFF_5eG_mYw0uHSTFhtpNK7DgyrxkgW-uS5KcW7LfwEzx52zHEv1JjpewWsTIMkat39_99QeRXUS7jHGZoP7_1-FHydeZmIgv4up35QUFKZR2Qdb570/s400/Louisiana_Black_Bears_Protection_67138-780x520.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>March 25, 2007</i><br />
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Went down to stream today. Went fishing with paws. Salmon hard to catch. Getting annoyed with this shit.<br />
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Saw man trying to catch fish. Man smelled like farts and cheese. He uses stick with string. String has food on end of it. I bite food. Man get scared and run away. I take stick and try using it. Stick break. Chase man for fun. He hide in tree. Poop near tree. That show him. Will go back for man when dark.<br />
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Finally caught salmon. Taste like fish. I hate fish.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrz5hexyp6Av-rq1QRMwVCygncF_wdTvN2OOA3l-v7uI70Tc1N8JeYuzxEj_Q5lzw-PaermqmxUyxWo-qu2JG1FF_Iamhfv1s9MBtykgTkIN3eg07oydRaoKNmrxWiXq8EX4qx6pTE_E/s1600/22023152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrz5hexyp6Av-rq1QRMwVCygncF_wdTvN2OOA3l-v7uI70Tc1N8JeYuzxEj_Q5lzw-PaermqmxUyxWo-qu2JG1FF_Iamhfv1s9MBtykgTkIN3eg07oydRaoKNmrxWiXq8EX4qx6pTE_E/s400/22023152.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>March 26, 2007</i><br />
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Went back to tree to find man last night. He gone. Left trail of pee pee that smelled good. Decided to follow it. Lead back to camp where there was fire and tent. No man in sight. Smelled food so I ate it. Lots of meat. Pooped on fire. Laughed for long time.<br />
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Dug around man's tent. Found clothes. Put on hat and shirt. Saw deer and rabbits around eating from man's camp. Said "Look at me, I human, I human, fart fart fart" and they laugh. Smelled man coming, put clothes on fire poop. Ate last of meat before I left. Heard him crying from cave. Slept well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QkBqtWWl7Fdz2q-oWiXVUm8GIW7E1XoPZNfsp1Wgh66LZvNgKcbZvHyYupDfx84ul88i_aawUpXCPzfcWcRq_QxkWo6X11vGKrkn3HTAo3Ngc-C-z258Mflh3tBmwHQL0wqpSxC-S_k/s1600/louisiana-black-bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="1400" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QkBqtWWl7Fdz2q-oWiXVUm8GIW7E1XoPZNfsp1Wgh66LZvNgKcbZvHyYupDfx84ul88i_aawUpXCPzfcWcRq_QxkWo6X11vGKrkn3HTAo3Ngc-C-z258Mflh3tBmwHQL0wqpSxC-S_k/s400/louisiana-black-bear.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>July 9, 2007</i><br />
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Summer is hot. Spend lots of time in water fishing. Still hate fish. Found honey comb other day, but there too many bees. Fucking hate bees. Get bored easily. Found copy of book near cabin called "Catcher in the Rye." What a slog. Annoying to read. We get it, puberty a bitch.<br />
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Found something called Bear Scouts today making crafts in woods. They bad at being bears. Don't use paws to catch fish, don't sleep in cave, don't eat own young. They wear dumb clothes. Scared them away and pooped on their crafts. Went back to honey comb to get snack. Forgot about bees. Got stung a lot. Pooped on comb and went back to cave. Today suck ass.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhyphenhyphenIGf3J_NTwRU0l0_vkFCXlPhHSnI-f8Zg69-RlU5V5tAs3OlR-ZalVcTOlbpfCMfRiEhoKMAoubNpdNYalhXMVvC1lMHyQY7PcLH0WP5jkIsJKRG680UmHnn-t7EdCobQL1Aq6Dp-4/s1600/bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhyphenhyphenIGf3J_NTwRU0l0_vkFCXlPhHSnI-f8Zg69-RlU5V5tAs3OlR-ZalVcTOlbpfCMfRiEhoKMAoubNpdNYalhXMVvC1lMHyQY7PcLH0WP5jkIsJKRG680UmHnn-t7EdCobQL1Aq6Dp-4/s400/bear.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>August 29, 2007</i></div>
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Smelled man again, this time not alone. Had bigger man with him that smelled like cooked meat and fire. They were fishing with sticks, bigger man had lots of fish, cheesy farts had none. Decided to take from bigger man's pile of fish, asshole yelled at me. I started at him and he put hands above head and suddenly he was SO TALL and I FREAKED OUT because fuck magic I don't mess with Magic Man fuck him and his smelly fish and I ran.</div>
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When it got dark found their camp. Magic Man was asleep. Smaller man woke up, but too scared to do anything. I took fish and threw on fire then pooped on fire, then ran away before Magic Man woke up. Smaller man cried again, Magic Man yelled. Funny.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZThNW80TTcrTK2mPOl3lcnAqie20nEtqc-qBk0u0z2Sbf0xXajpa3pJs4tLupJowCnJSNDNeQvGSIuiB3Y3dC5m5WIZAwzNBNccXfAAFLYB8RPHY5ZuGC8QInOmssnZLZgkI0Vozi3_o/s1600/5377694-5085363357-black.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="768" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZThNW80TTcrTK2mPOl3lcnAqie20nEtqc-qBk0u0z2Sbf0xXajpa3pJs4tLupJowCnJSNDNeQvGSIuiB3Y3dC5m5WIZAwzNBNccXfAAFLYB8RPHY5ZuGC8QInOmssnZLZgkI0Vozi3_o/s400/5377694-5085363357-black.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>September 2, 2007</i></div>
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Female come back with cub. Said I owe her child support. Ate cub. Problem solved.</div>
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<i>September 4, 2007</i></div>
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Cub did not agree with stomach. Feeling remorse. Also pooping a lot. Need new cave. Too much poop. Why so much poop? Finally understand "Catcher in the Rye." Life is poop. We eat young before they can eat us. Vicious cycle of violence. Female wants to have another cub. Told her no chance in hell. Not going through this again. Pain in head and stomach too much to bear.</div>
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Just realized made unintentional pun. I very funny. No. I beary funny.</div>
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Anyway, not having another cub. Told her to shut up about it.</div>
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<i>September 5, 2007</i></div>
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Having another cub. Hope this one taste better.</div>
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<i>October 24, 2007</i></div>
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Smelled cheese man again today. He had Magic Man with him and more men. They had big fire sticks that make loud boom boom sound. I'm joking, I know what guns are. Tracked me to my cave, but I wasn't there. Killed female and skinned her. That solves that problem.</div>
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Found their camp to wait for them. When they arrive the see me waiting for them patiently. Magic Man approach with gun but he step in wrong spot. Set off trap. Magic Man fell down a hole and broke his bones. Rest of the men scared and tried to fire guns.</div>
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Their guns misfire. Jammed with poop.</div>
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Bear poop.</div>
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I plan for this. </div>
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Do you hear me you dumb motherfuckers?! I PLANNED for this. I smarter than average bear, but I don't give a shit about picnic baskets. I want blood. I want <i>your</i> blood. </div>
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Come back to my woods, I will show you what blood look like. </div>
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Blood and poop.</div>
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See you soon.</div>
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Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-44063070439036748332011-08-10T16:43:00.000+01:002019-05-06T02:08:12.597+01:00Guest Blogger Kris Peraldo: What Men Need to Know<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Editor's Note: Kris Peraldo</i><a href="https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/103834204/kristopher-david-peraldo" style="font-style: italic;"> tragically passed away on August 9, 2011 at the age of 24. </a><i>In honor of his memory, please enjoy these life tips he wrote for you all. For the sake of posterity I have not edited his article in any way. Please enjoy. Or don't. Do whatever you want, I'm not your boss. </i><br />
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<i>RIP Kris. </i><br />
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There comes a time in every man/boy's life where he starts to notice the opposite sex for more than the fact that they're dynamite cookies thieves. Now, some children may not be afforded the same excellent advice you received as a wee lad, so today you're going to get the Top 10 Things Growing Boys Need to Know About Women.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">10.</span> No matter what you do, you are going to be wrong. It's a <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1253757841_0">tough world</span> to live in, but they do, in-fact, beat out the Jews for running the world, and they know it. The best thing you can do is keep your head down and hope for the best. Maybe get a helmet for safety.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">9.</span> Women have a tendency to remember the small things. If you dropped a piece of paper on the floor by accident because it fell out of your pocket, you will get to hear allllllllll about it in approximately 3 months. They don't mean anything by it, as it's just natural, but be sure to keep you PIN out of sight, or they WILL learn it by instinct.<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />8.</span></span> They're beautiful, but dangerous. Like all creatures in the wild, human women are hauntingly appealing to men. You will inevitably do something dumb to try and attract that love interest, and your friends will laugh at you. Remember that even though your friends laugh, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Just don't let that be wearing lady's undergarments. No matter how hawt she'd think it is.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">7.</span> Your words, no matter the context, are always under scrutiny. There is never anything you can say that won't be brought into question inside their head. Again, a natural part of the living process for them, but it does cause tricky situations. Never say too little or too much because they are obviously the suspicious choices. Also, never say just the right amount. It's also quite suspicious.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">6. </span> Romance is very important. There are some boys out there that would believe that girls are made for sex, and while some are only made for sex, the general rule is to not believe that. Think about things that would make her happy and then make them masculine enough to be endearing. Otherwise you'll never get to sex with a girl that isn't skeezy. REMEMBER WHAT'S AT STAKE.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">5. </span> The more money that you're willing to spend, the better. This won't always be the case, but it can be from time to time, and it will be up to you then to decide if it's worth it. Keep in mind that if you set the bar too high early on, you'll always be expected to spend that much for her. This game of Limbo has no winners, so tread cautiously.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">4. </span> Never ever ever ever forget special days, birthdays or other random holidays. This veritable minefield is tricky, because it needs a keen sense of both memory and vigilence. A tip to try and avoid the scourn of your lady, get a calendar and mark down important things immediately... for every room in your house. Wall sized. And a giant permanent marker to mark off each day. If you do not, you will lose.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. </span></span> Know when to let one go. This is actually the toughest to master, because as a guy you're either going to really like a girl that isn't right for you, or really like having sex with her. Both factors cause you to lose your most important asset, your brain. If she's the devil, but you like her when she's being civil to you? Get out while you can. If she is a crazy person that light things on fire, but you really like having sex with her and she doesn't threathen to harm you or your manhood? Well... judgment calls were invented for a reason. <br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">2.</span> Ladies like mystery. This is key to getting that girl you've had your eye on. You can, of course, talk to a girl and be friends with her like you would another guy, but don't expect that to lead you anywhere but where you are. To attract a woman in return, distance is a must. Don't tell them your life-story, don't get too involved in their life, and definitely do not be the first person to admit to having feelings. If you'd like to become a lapdog for this girl and never be free again, your friends will provide you with both a leash and a water bowl to keep you hydrated.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;">1.</span> If a fight occurs, head down, and no talking. This is #1 for a reason. Fighting back and arguing will not fix anything except letting you sleep hours later after losing anyway. It's a tough position to be in, but you'll make it out if you read this and keep it in mind. No cussing at her, no insulting her, no angry movements that could be mistaken, no smart-ass comments, nothing. Doing any of those would actually be a perfect time for that helmet.<br />
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Now that you have this list, it's time to put on your big boy pants, and go out and try to score. Always remember the wisdom passed to you today, because in the future, your kids, or... more likely if you follow any of this, your nephews will need to be taught the same things in order to manage the world that is dating. Good luck!Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-4988766413133295482010-01-26T00:53:00.002+00:002010-01-27T21:30:33.674+00:00My Version of the New Twilight Graphic NovelRecently Stephenie Meyer<span id="lw_1264466085_0" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;"></span> announced she is launching a <i>Twilight </i><span id="lw_1264466085_1">graphic novel series</span>. As expected I took this as a personal insult. Stephenie Meyer has crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed, and pushed our feud into the realm of apocalyptic nightmares. I’ll admit I might have been a tad harsh when I <a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-review-of-twilight.html">reviewed her travesty she called a novel</a>, and I might make<a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/04/vampire-kids-suck.html"> the occasional joke at her expense</a>, but I’ve never made it personal. Stephenie Meyer has now made it personal by dragging her greasy sausage fingers across the key boards to inscribe what will probably be the mecca of bullshit comic book writing.<br />
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She couldn’t be content with her stranglehold on the young-adult-soft core pornography-retarded-teenage girl market, so now she’s stepping into <i>MY HOUSE</i>. To be fair I’m not officially a graphic novel author yet, but it will become all the more difficult to break into the medium now that this abortion is in the works. In response to this outrages attempt to piss me off I went ahead and beat her to the punch. I wrote my own <i>Twilight</i> graphic novel, and I can honestly say it’s already better than whatever literary spermicide she was ready to unleash upon the world. While I’m looking for publishers, I’ve decided to give you all a special preview. Enjoy!<br />
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</div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-49963353285396846272009-12-24T21:20:00.003+00:002010-01-26T03:29:20.913+00:00An Innapropriate Night Before Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZgim1h4MCd45YGkn5M-zJSHE1nkAFlELj-V6S7MOaXSaOQfhn1SLqiSJkAXLRhlvXBCYmWY9MnK_vsTmWKxoDR28Rvj0fx-s20aWhSe3z3CNatNIpjTeIqfHKpMhpPVWQ4KAokJJwOM/s1600-h/cover.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZgim1h4MCd45YGkn5M-zJSHE1nkAFlELj-V6S7MOaXSaOQfhn1SLqiSJkAXLRhlvXBCYmWY9MnK_vsTmWKxoDR28Rvj0fx-s20aWhSe3z3CNatNIpjTeIqfHKpMhpPVWQ4KAokJJwOM/s640/cover.bmp" /><a name='more'></a></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZo4okZLRhiRX3nYLI8jVYyy2LAj7JxTUZ-L1bZ4XkRBKvHiy09JMBZoth_HkHRABnyeUId-Oyc-W-G_inD4Un0WlGxlCUhspiAYAJ5mNa5ecrr1M82__PAAm3uABpQUmW42Zw0f9pXg/s1600-h/Page+1.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZo4okZLRhiRX3nYLI8jVYyy2LAj7JxTUZ-L1bZ4XkRBKvHiy09JMBZoth_HkHRABnyeUId-Oyc-W-G_inD4Un0WlGxlCUhspiAYAJ5mNa5ecrr1M82__PAAm3uABpQUmW42Zw0f9pXg/s640/Page+1.bmp" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPdaTHdp4XiBn4xz6i8kD8vqCHSJ2Ls0jecFO1E7xQKIBcwLYXhZYxHwHSS1F0MWJEhHz2Uo5heeIKdta14nWXjGqrCkIcW08VWt-900tSLIIQwZPIIwHjKflm2PvU7_ydIefL4AXJCk/s1600-h/Page+2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPdaTHdp4XiBn4xz6i8kD8vqCHSJ2Ls0jecFO1E7xQKIBcwLYXhZYxHwHSS1F0MWJEhHz2Uo5heeIKdta14nWXjGqrCkIcW08VWt-900tSLIIQwZPIIwHjKflm2PvU7_ydIefL4AXJCk/s640/Page+2.bmp" /></a><br />
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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNJsMT4QuXuDD2W80QLt6lpprjh1i_7P6_VBBPMfJCIsotV8PL7AwtI2Hmc_MCF1iib3sJbA-_s5rvAMkSDHqFmIVKQQCzSnTXo6NB9Awn02lnUZr1WPMSJUGRJFkZ2x0sB8khTr7SUw/s640/merry+christmas.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-41421601984393683612009-12-11T03:03:00.004+00:002019-05-10T14:45:38.804+01:00Tips on How to Kick Ass at Monopoly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqirvDKhyHF8sevNzhE4Nsyx5AHKsnVrEWt_wttZ5py2N0HLTf1vqHZJbl4Qccy4eQFLZssKnrtk-u7j_EsLFWtyc4CXB_drtHEuORRwHZrm5r2F_to-St6jwIDAyDwmCoRD-wFqLm7w/s1600-h/monopoly+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqirvDKhyHF8sevNzhE4Nsyx5AHKsnVrEWt_wttZ5py2N0HLTf1vqHZJbl4Qccy4eQFLZssKnrtk-u7j_EsLFWtyc4CXB_drtHEuORRwHZrm5r2F_to-St6jwIDAyDwmCoRD-wFqLm7w/s400/monopoly+logo.jpg" /></a></div>
<span id="lw_1260495014_0" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; cursor: pointer;"> </span><span id="lw_1260495014_0" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; cursor: pointer;">Monopoly</span> can be more than a frustrating game when you’re losing, but a victory can be more rewarding than a <span id="lw_1260495014_1">Nobel Peace Prize</span>. <span style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately, for most losing at </span><span style="text-align: center;">Monopoly </span><span style="text-align: center;">exceeds irritation to the point of “Hulk-esque” flip-outs, causing the game to come to an abrupt end, and robbing the victor of their celebratory fist pumps and crotch chops.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjQGw1DIygpiV_-kbQiXjhwepWifbFFIBuRZzIv_BXf0cK1zgTE_YcRgeXr-iuZ080zh-1OXUpAe1Xz32ymg2TVSO1FQlnBWoZkIbvBTcpW5gc7SwSefzHo3IhvSZMqOQz4_tuZr2ipq4/s1600-h/HulkJacket.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjQGw1DIygpiV_-kbQiXjhwepWifbFFIBuRZzIv_BXf0cK1zgTE_YcRgeXr-iuZ080zh-1OXUpAe1Xz32ymg2TVSO1FQlnBWoZkIbvBTcpW5gc7SwSefzHo3IhvSZMqOQz4_tuZr2ipq4/s320/HulkJacket.gif" width="216" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">ARRGH! HULK WANTED PARK PLACE!<br />
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Today I am going to share with you a few helpful tips that will end your Monopoly<i> </i><span id="lw_1260495014_3">losing streak</span>, giving you the overwhelming joy of financial success while not robbing you of your God given right to be an incompetent failure.<br />
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<b>Tip #1: Know the House Rules</b><br />
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Parker Brothers' official instructions have long encouraged the use of "House Rules," specific additions to or subtractions from the official rule sets. Many casual Monopoly<i> </i>players are surprised to discover that some of the rules that they are used to are not part of the official rules.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe-wY4DTwtW4_FxL8xshROMFrsaz766hLH4hWTkYAAxs9WvDbb8WyeVeLinPfZDQ6UuSLj6HubHFec5gM5znk_VFW6tAOcwt6oc-_ynlWaaMErBdcIpE1f9QPEaNxVUn_iBKo6RVgDBU/s1600-h/monopoly1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe-wY4DTwtW4_FxL8xshROMFrsaz766hLH4hWTkYAAxs9WvDbb8WyeVeLinPfZDQ6UuSLj6HubHFec5gM5znk_VFW6tAOcwt6oc-_ynlWaaMErBdcIpE1f9QPEaNxVUn_iBKo6RVgDBU/s320/monopoly1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">What do you mean I can’t build hotels on Water Works? I call bullshit.<br />
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In order to strategize you need to know all of the rules. Jumping in without this knowledge will give you the same odds as a nameless red-shirted Starfleet officer on an unknown planet. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Guess which one isn’t beaming back up.<br />
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Before the game begins outline all of the rules, in detail, so there is no confusion. Keep in mind that there will be disagreements; they are inevitable, and unavoidable. You need to be willing to compromise. If you refuse to bend on the rules you are comfortable with than go ahead and quit, because you obviously can’t adapt well to change. Remember, the goal is not to win on your terms, the goal is to <i>WIN</i>. <br />
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<b>Tip #2: Have a Strategy</b><br />
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Monopoly<i> </i>is a game of skill as much as it is a <span id="lw_1260495014_5">game of chance</span>. You can’t help the roll of the dice, but you can make or break a game by having a plan. Watch the other players closely. Observe how they interact with each other, and how they react to getting certain properties. If you know what they want, you’ll have an advantage when it comes to trading.<br />
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While planning your strategy keep a few things in mind:<br />
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• Buy as much property as you can at the beginning of the game, regardless if it fits into your strategy. You land on it, you buy it.<br />
• Be willing to adapt. You might not get the properties you were counting on, so be ready to change course at any moment.<br />
• Have back up contingencies. Never go in thinking your plan is fool proof. If you disagree, than I have a bridge you might be interested in.<br />
• Be patient. Impatience leads to poor trades and misguided investments, which in turn can lead to anger. If you get angry you’ll be prone to “Hulking Out” and no one will want to play with you anymore.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQhUrZnGX6UZbRjyvfUcw1JfpXvaivBW8uufpSMlU10EIE1Myud8Kd3Ln5S2YlsmCBr0neHYq1Fo4OArAl41M6AUEnDj5m0mUChKsTLG-QZAuT4XakyK_-npOcjmANbv8td8iAMrZn1Y/s1600-h/yoda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQhUrZnGX6UZbRjyvfUcw1JfpXvaivBW8uufpSMlU10EIE1Myud8Kd3Ln5S2YlsmCBr0neHYq1Fo4OArAl41M6AUEnDj5m0mUChKsTLG-QZAuT4XakyK_-npOcjmANbv8td8iAMrZn1Y/s320/yoda.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Anger also leads to hate, and then Yoda won’t let you be a Jedi</span>.</div>
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<b>Tip #3: Invest in the Right Property</b><br />
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Most people will try and invest in the high dollar, boner-inducing properties like Marvin Gardens, Park Place, and Boardwalk. These are considered to be the best properties on the board because of their high rent costs, but in reality they are landed on once in a blue moon, so your investment will see a smaller pay out than if you build on less valuable property. The safe thing to do would be to wait and build on these pieces after you have already established yourself elsewhere on the board. If you get cocky you’ll win as often as <span id="lw_1260495014_7">Stevie Wonder</span> does at “I Spy.”<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">If he isn’t blind, then there is no excuse for <i>this</i>.</span></div>
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Strategically the best properties to buy and build on are the orange and purple properties. They are generally low cost, ($140 to $200) and have reasonable building fees. And, due to their proximity to the Jail space they are prime real estate. Everyone in the game is going to visit the jail during play, and when they finally get out those properties are going to be the ones they most likely land on. Red and yellow properties are also good, but the higher their price tag, the more it will cost to build on them. Start slow, and work your way up.<br />
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The cheap properties are nothing to sneeze at either. Most people compare these low dollar lots to the slums, but they can have certain strategic advantages. Because of their location to the GO space, hotels on Baltic and Mediterranean can take away another players salary (and then some) just after they make it. You know, just like a real slum.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kASiCvdvbSqgLsX8zxupL-FBkilxhLfsticnj3Sn7YBYXqN19d7jCB4mgrGSfPmv4N30ili03aZvgT_7ABsk84aXCDPVMomIgp3l79pOVRhj0ALwkiSXtMZrVFIkgx9pxUJNR2gRSY8/s1600-h/gangsta_street-3554.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kASiCvdvbSqgLsX8zxupL-FBkilxhLfsticnj3Sn7YBYXqN19d7jCB4mgrGSfPmv4N30ili03aZvgT_7ABsk84aXCDPVMomIgp3l79pOVRhj0ALwkiSXtMZrVFIkgx9pxUJNR2gRSY8/s320/gangsta_street-3554.bmp" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Baltic Avenue</span></div>
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But, even though their locations make them worth investing in, their low pay out will keep them from being your primary properties. Look at these pieces as <span id="lw_1260495014_8">wild cards</span> that can supplement your income as you build elsewhere. </div>
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As for utilities and railroads go, keep in mind that most dumb players will rely on them to win the game. But, their horrible judgment will be your advantage. In order to do that, you need to take into account that buying utilities is as like fantasy drafting Reggie Bush. It seems like a good idea at the time, but you'll end up with an empty roster spot and unmitigated shame. If you are building your Monopoly<i> </i>empire around your utility acquisitions go ahead and put your underwear on your head and start calling the toaster your girlfriend, because no one is going to take you seriously anyway.<br />
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Still, you shouldn’t pass up on them if the opportunity presents itself. Remember, stupid players value them highly, so you can use them as bargaining chips. They most likely won’t get you anything alone, but they can be used to sweeten the pot. Same goes for railroads. If you have all the four railroads they are a forced to be reckoned with, but acquiring all four of the properties without trading is unlikely. They are not worth trading your properties for outright, so it’s best to treat them the same way you do utilities. A railroad gives you an edge when dealing with morons, so collect that shit like they're Pokémon cards.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">B&O Railroad, I choose you!<br />
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<b>Tip #4: Trading</b><br />
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Trading can make or break a game. This is where you stop relying on luck and start relying on your mad <span id="lw_1260495014_11">negotiating skills</span>. Here are some things to consider when it comes to trading:<br />
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• Never trade in the first round of the game.<br />
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If you trade away properties before you’ve even passed GO than you are either a moron or someone who is preying on the inexperienced. Either way it’s a bad habit to start. You cannot accurately come up with a strategy unless you know what you’re working with. Let the board create a map for you to use in your attack. See where your opponent’s properties are and asses their value. Ask yourself questions like “How serious is he about building on light blue when he has two yellows?” Let the terrain build itself before you go charging in.<br />
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• Never reveal your hand.<br />
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Always keep your game face on. Never give your opponent something they can use against you in a trade. If you huff and puff after someone buys Illinois because it played into your pre-game strategy, you’ve just given them a big juicy carrot to dangle over your head. Be indifferent to everything, and they will have nothing to tempt you with.<br />
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• Never initiate a trade.<br />
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Initiating a trade instantly reveals to your opponent that they have something you want. If they’re smart (or an idiot who just wants to be a dick) they will try to use this against you. Let them pitch the trade, and the advantage will be yours.<br />
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• Try to make deals privately.<br />
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You’re about to make a game making deal; trading Park Place for <span id="lw_1260495014_12">New York</span> and <span id="lw_1260495014_13">Tennessee</span> Avenues, completing your orange set. Just when you’re about to seal the deal another player chirps in, advises that it’s a bad move for them to make, and suddenly the deal is off. Interference in negotiations is a huge annoyance that can way on your patience and drag the game on for hours. If someone wants to trade with you, try and get them to walk away from the game to discuss the terms. If they refuse, introduce them to your middle finger and tell them to enjoy losing for the rest of their lives.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">If you smile when you give them the finger there's a chance they won't flip over the board and quit.</span></div>
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• Never make a trade where you do not benefit.<br />
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I feel like this should go without saying, but you'd be surprised how many people treat Monopoly like a fun-filled family activity. Monopoly isn't fun. Monopoly is <i>war</i>. You should <u>never</u> make a deal if you do not gain as much or more than the person you a trading with. If someone opens negotiations with you and they have nothing that you could use, be like <i>D.A.R.E. </i>and just say no. Do not take pity on other players because they are not doing well. Empathy is the enemy, and showing compassion is just as damaging as letting the table know your intentions. I don’t care if it’s your dear sweet grandma who has always taken care of you, during the game she is your nemesis, and it's your job to bankrupt and destroy her.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Take this bitch DOWN. </span></div>
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<b>Tip #5: Keep Your Cool</b><br />
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Your emotional state is very important while playing Monopoly. If you spend the whole game bitching and moaning then not only will it be a miserable time for you, but it will ruin the fun for everyone else. If no one wants to play with you because you are a bad sport, how will you establish your dominance? Let petty things go. Who cares if your little sister insists on being the car? Let her have it, it has no strategic advantage. Take the shoe and kick the shit out of her all over the board.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">These are the tears of VICTORY.</span></div>
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Stick to these tips and you should finally reach the top of the Monopoly<i> </i>mountain. That is, unless you're playing me. If you are then go ahead and just quit early because you're SCREWED.</div>
Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-72455553523106752552009-11-30T00:30:00.001+00:002019-05-06T02:15:44.539+01:00Johnson Brothers Around the World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Around Christmas 2008, my brother <a href="http://www.adamistwowithnature.blogspot.com/">Adam </a>had a great idea...</div>
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"Andrew," he said as he threw his gin glass against the wall, "I'm tired of hanging around our home town every holiday! We should get out more."</div>
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I looked at him and scoffed, "What do you mean? We went to the next town over just yesterday. And, the day before we thought of going to the next, next town over, but didn't because that Designing Women's Marathon was on. We get out plenty."<br />
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"I'm sick of not doing anything Andrew! We should see the world..." he then extended his hand to me and shot me a warm smile that could melt the polar ice caps, "...we're...<i>BROTHERS</i>. We must do this...<i>TOGETHER</i>."</div>
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My frown instantly turned upside down as I took his hand, " Alright! But I declare that everywhere we go, we always wear the same cloths and always strike the same pose."</div>
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Adam nodded his head, "Agreed....<i>BROTHER</i>."</div>
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"You need to stop that."</div>
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He gently nodded his head in agreement, realizing how stupid he must have sounded. </div>
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"So, where do you want to go first?"</div>
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I shot to my feet in excitement, for I knew the perfect place to begin our journey... </div>
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<br />
...Paris!<br />
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In the excitement of the moment it took us quite some time for us to realize we were in the most romantic place on earth...<i>TOGETHER</i>. On the second day in the capitol of love, Adam got a little restless, and possibly creeped out by the realization of our predicament.<br />
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"Andrew, we need to leave. I'm bored out of my mind."<br />
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"What are you talking about? There are plenty of things to do here, take in the culture a little."<br />
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"I have been taking in the culture and you know what I've discovered? France sucks."<br />
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I stared at him in utter shock, "Adam, the French pride themselves on their culture!"<br />
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He rolled his eyes, "I don't understand why. All of their songs sound the same and the only movies they have worth watching are the ones with gratuitous nudity."<br />
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"Well what about the food," I asked, "have you tried any of their fine cuisines?"<br />
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At that point Adam's fist stopped right in front of my face.<br />
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"Let's face it," he said through gritted teeth, "No matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back."<br />
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"Okay," I said, trying to calm his rage, "Where do you want to go?"<br />
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Adam looked up to the heavens and stared for about three hours. Just when the third episode of French Golden Girls began he came out of his thought induced coma.<br />
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"Oh I have the perfect place..." </div>
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"... China!"<br />
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"Adam, this was a horrible idea."<br />
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"Oh really Andrew, why is that?"<br />
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"Because we're in China."<br />
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Adam shook his head in disbelief, "Why is that such a bad thing?"<br />
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"Well, first and foremost it's a communist society that are firm believers in censorship. There is horrible pollution, it's noisy, and <a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-worst-enemy.html">Michael Bay</a> films are held in high regard."<br />
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Tears poured down Adam's eyes as he ran down the great wall screaming, "No! No! <a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/09/guest-blogger-simon-woods-biggest.html">Transformers </a>was horrible!"<br />
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We were longing for the old red, white and blue, so we decided to do some sight seeing in the land of the free. Our first stop...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqy3hI02XitOV8ce-jGIOaCZ9BQKBbjDT4RBPJimtpE3fsRCM8qKgeQcrmODGrbWgtuIkM296Yjn6ZgUy3WyGGhM8GWVVbMkvrDKLd-1KtXkERNpb8JMxEPtZnsTpltkrtXEyqt2IAkU/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqy3hI02XitOV8ce-jGIOaCZ9BQKBbjDT4RBPJimtpE3fsRCM8qKgeQcrmODGrbWgtuIkM296Yjn6ZgUy3WyGGhM8GWVVbMkvrDKLd-1KtXkERNpb8JMxEPtZnsTpltkrtXEyqt2IAkU/s400/4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...the Grand Canyon.</div>
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I stared out at the massive gorge, eyes glowing, "Look Adam, look at the majesty of the Grand Canyon. Such beauty cannot truly be described in words."</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Adam was not impressed. " This is just a giant hole. Who cares?"</div>
<br />
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"Adam, do you even know how this hole was created?"</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Of course, Paul Bunyon farted so hard that it created a massive hole in the earth. After that a bunch of Aliens landed here and began excavating it for rock samples to help fly there ships into the sun. Then giant earth worms made this there home for generations until <a href="http://adamistwowithnature.blogspot.com/2009/09/manly-man-redux-teddy-roosevelt-guest.html">Teddy Roosevelt </a>chased them out with only a walking stick and a flare gun."</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I looked at Adam in complete amazement, "Exactly."</div>
<br />
We then then high-fived so hard it made the canyon crumble into another even bigger canyon. We then peed over the ledge and chucked beer cans into the over-hyped hole.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Let's just go home," Adam belched as grabbed the black Stetson hat he got at a gas station in Topeka, Kansas. "Were just about out of money and I want to make it back in time to watch Charles in Charge."</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So we began our journey home, but sadly we stopped in Vegas and Adam lost most of our money on Keno.</div>
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We only had enough money to get us to... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZE8me8I2uJfgSuTsZsP8F0hxoa78uYx0WzffbWVMjFHtKvo-kLzr7okzzC1HQaWX_-z1CCqhtjsq5u4l4pbppQkEJP84qed_8UMNE4LpADGq8mTbuMnlD4fKlOBIb5m7hVPF1pLh3lSg/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZE8me8I2uJfgSuTsZsP8F0hxoa78uYx0WzffbWVMjFHtKvo-kLzr7okzzC1HQaWX_-z1CCqhtjsq5u4l4pbppQkEJP84qed_8UMNE4LpADGq8mTbuMnlD4fKlOBIb5m7hVPF1pLh3lSg/s400/5.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...Wyoming.</div>
<br />
Welcome to hell.Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-64500021777868592202009-11-24T02:28:00.045+00:002010-01-26T03:30:41.862+00:00Questionable Sunday Comics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Every Sunday I eagerly await my newspaper so I can delve into the worlds of my favorite comic characters. Usually their antics are goodhearted and fun, but every once in a while I'll find a cartoon that is...questionable at best. Today I have decided to share with you some of the more questionable Sunday comics I've come across.<br />
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</div><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(Editor's Note: If you are having problems viewing any of the pictures, just click on them to see a larger image.)</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0iSDYNxnbO6MRoK_psz941P_5Map74JssoAWL72cNAQzwgOwQp1CSHLXTfldfojcEyXVsP0pE2GFsPfkRz9EigFIiGNQsNT_jWFTsg5SkaHc3DBbD4Ef9gzxsVsC8OebDiyylLOwjqTs/s1600/blondie.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0iSDYNxnbO6MRoK_psz941P_5Map74JssoAWL72cNAQzwgOwQp1CSHLXTfldfojcEyXVsP0pE2GFsPfkRz9EigFIiGNQsNT_jWFTsg5SkaHc3DBbD4Ef9gzxsVsC8OebDiyylLOwjqTs/s640/blondie.bmp" /></a><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHs3kgUFxXCadjMTaBxS96ZXwU6HymPWtqtNPqKj9NqfgFeatZwTNTMX1IKquBdyNxWxBKKuKnxE3gAZE1EgQ_sAl6ql96dwc2hW3ZccKs3WqegWKmONcwwOfnZE7U3IkhZkpXG9CETk/s1600/Garfield.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHs3kgUFxXCadjMTaBxS96ZXwU6HymPWtqtNPqKj9NqfgFeatZwTNTMX1IKquBdyNxWxBKKuKnxE3gAZE1EgQ_sAl6ql96dwc2hW3ZccKs3WqegWKmONcwwOfnZE7U3IkhZkpXG9CETk/s640/Garfield.bmp" /></a><br />
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</div></div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-39572412067972653512009-11-18T02:26:00.006+00:002010-01-26T03:31:11.315+00:00My Quest to Find Out if the Prince of Persia Movie is RealRecently Disney released a new trailer for their latest film venture, <i><span id="lw_1258507712_1">Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time</span></i>. It’s produced by Jerry Bruckheimer and stars Jake Gyllenhaal as the titular Prince. For those of you unaware of these Hollywood players, Bruckheimer is the man behind great films like <i><span id="lw_1258507712_4">Pirates of the Caribbean</span></i>, as well as shitty films like <i>Pirates of the Caribbean</i> 2 & 3. Gyllenhaal is the emo kid from <span id="lw_1258507712_5">Donnie Darko</span> who made out with <span id="lw_1258507712_6" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer;">Heath Ledger</span>. <br />
When I first saw the promotional poster it didn’t seem real to me. It looked like a fake <span id="lw_1258507712_7">movie poster</span> you would see on <i>Entourage</i>. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig85dmuSyoQuJ_ygxs_Xq__nwMrF7HV4vNvBxq9weCU1tecqCiD7BvVdzU6pH0MfVWXH1W48tksc5yDZ0sbRAfUJmEe8OxOJqN47dAylTcBRDW4beQQKGZAbUB7VdE9q3oMlfWb1hw4F4/s1600/prince+of+persia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig85dmuSyoQuJ_ygxs_Xq__nwMrF7HV4vNvBxq9weCU1tecqCiD7BvVdzU6pH0MfVWXH1W48tksc5yDZ0sbRAfUJmEe8OxOJqN47dAylTcBRDW4beQQKGZAbUB7VdE9q3oMlfWb1hw4F4/s320/prince+of+persia.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">If he’s Persian, where are his tacky silk shirts, gold chains, and designer sunglasses?<br />
</span><br />
</div>After the trailer was released, I was even more convinced it was a hoax perpetrated by <i>Entourage</i>. I simply couldn't allow myself to believe that someone was serious about making this a movie.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlqBjSYLep0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlqBjSYLep0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Why would somebody seriously make this?</span><br />
</div><br />
In order to get to the bottom of this I decided to call up <i>Entourage's</i> network and find out what was the point of promoting an obviously fake movie.<br />
<br />
<b>(<i>The below transcript is 100% real. Names were changed to keep me from being sued.</i>) </b><br />
<br />
<b>Attempt #1</b><br />
<br />
Operator: Showtime Networks Inc. how may I help you?<br />
<br />
Johnson: I’d like to speak to whoever runs <i>Entourage</i>. <br />
<br />
Operator: Sir that’s…<br />
<br />
Johnson: Oh, sorry. I meant “whomever.”<br />
<br />
Operator: Sir…<br />
<br />
Johnson: The guy in charge is <span id="lw_1258507712_8">Marky Mark</span> right? Put me through to him.<br />
<br />
Operator: Sir you seem to be confused, this is Showtime. <i>Entourage </i>is on <span id="lw_1258507712_9">HBO</span>.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Dammit…<br />
<br />
<i>-CLICK-</i><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Attempt #2</b><br />
<br />
<span id="lw_1258507712_10">Operator: Time Warner</span>, how may I help you?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Son of a bitch...<br />
<br />
<i>-CLICK-</i><br />
<br />
<b>Attempt #3</b><br />
<br />
Operator: Time Warner, how may I help you?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Yeah, sorry…lord this is embarrassing…I’ve been trying to get a hold of HBO and I keep getting directed to you.<br />
<br />
Operator: HBO is a subsidiary of <span id="lw_1258507712_11">Time Warner</span> sir.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Of course... a sub…dairy. <br />
<br />
Operator: <span id="lw_1258507712_12">Subsidiary</span>.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Sub…way…sandwich.<br />
<br />
Operator: It means that Time Warner owns HBO.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Oh, ok now were getting somewhere. Can I talk to <i>Entourage </i>please?<br />
<br />
Operator: Excuse me?<br />
<br />
Johnson: I’d like to speak to the <i>Entourage</i>, like Marky Mark or Ari Gold.<br />
<br />
Operator: Sir, what is the meaning of this call?<br />
<br />
Johnson: I’m glad you asked. I’m a writer…for the <i>INTERNET</i>…<br />
<br />
<i>(</i><i>I paused for the impressed gasp, but when I realized no gasp was coming, I begrudgingly continued.) </i><br />
<br />
Johnson: ...And I was just wanted to ask them why they are promoting a fake movie.<br />
<br />
Operator: Excuse me?<br />
<br />
Johnson: <i>Prince of Persia</i>. They’re spending a ton of money on <span id="lw_1258507712_14">fake movie trailers</span> and posters and I’m just wondering why? Is Darko going to be on the next season?<br />
<br />
Operator: ...<br />
<br />
Johnson: Is that a spoiler or something? Did you just get a spoiler alert?<br />
<br />
Operator: Sir, I’m going to transfer you to someone that can answer your questions.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Thank you.<br />
<br />
<i>(I</i><i>t took almost 30 minutes for me to realize she had simply hung up on me.)</i><br />
<br />
<b>Attempt #4</b><br />
<br />
Operator: Time Warner, how may I help you?<br />
<br />
Johnson: HBO, please.<br />
<br />
Operator: One second.<br />
<br />
HBO Operator: <span id="lw_1258507712_15">Home Box Office</span>, how may I direct your call?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Yes, I’d like to speak to <i>Entourage</i>, please.<br />
<br />
HBO Operator: One second.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Awesome.<br />
<br />
Operator: Time Warner, how may I help you?<br />
<br />
Johnson: This is bullshit…<br />
<br />
<i>-CLICK- </i><br />
<br />
<b>Attempt #5</b><br />
<br />
Tricia: Jerry Bruckheimer Films, this is Tricia, how may I direct your call?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Mr. Bruckheimer please.<br />
<br />
Tricia: May I ask who is calling?<br />
<br />
Johnson: This is...Speilberg.<br />
<br />
Tricia: Speilberg?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Yeah, you know who I am.<br />
<br />
Tricia: Hold please.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>(I can hear Tricia explaining to someone that a Speilberg is on the phone for Mr. Bruckheimer.)</i><br />
<br />
Aaron: This is Aaron, one of Mr. Bruckheimer's assistants. Who is this?<br />
<br />
Johnson: This is Speilberg.<br />
<br />
Aaron: What's your first name?<br />
<br />
Johnson: ...Um...Mister.<br />
<br />
Aaron: ... Is this a prank call?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Look I just have one question to ask Mr. Bruckheimer.<br />
<br />
Aaron: Well I can give him your message.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Is the <i>Prince of Persia</i> movie for real?<br />
<br />
Aaron: ...What?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Is this movie seriously being made?<br />
<br />
Aaron: I don't...(<i>whispers to someone in the background</i>)...I don't understand what you're asking.<br />
<br />
Johnson: I just want to know if this movie is real or if it's something made up by <i>Entourage</i>.<br />
<br />
(<i>PAUSE</i>)<br />
<br />
Aaron: Are you serious?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Just answer the damn question.<br />
<br />
Aaron: Yes, it's a real movie.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Really? If its a joke and you just need to keep it under wraps, dude I get it. I won't say a word.<br />
<br />
Aaron: It's a real movie.<br />
<br />
Johnson: So it's not a hoax, perpatrated by <i>Entourage</i>?<br />
<br />
Aaron: No.<br />
<br />
Johnson: Can you check?<br />
<br />
Aaron: No.<br />
<br />
(<i>PAUSE</i>)<br />
<br />
Aaron: Is there anything else?<br />
<br />
Johnson: Yeah...can I get free tickets?<br />
<br />
<i>-CLICK-</i>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-82679766701968367692009-10-31T01:36:00.002+00:002010-01-26T03:31:27.902+00:00Halloween Poems for Kids!<div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ghosts are Spooky!</b></span><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Halloween is great, the ghosts rise from the grave,<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">And, fly through the cool autumn sky<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">They haunt little girls and little boys too!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">But, you shouldn’t be scared, just say hi!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Most are friendly, like Casper and Boo<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">And just want to wish you well<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Unless you get the ghost of John Wayne Gacey<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Who will drag you with him back to hell<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Yes, he kidnapped young boys<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Their knees he would scrape<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">As he strangled them violently<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">After a brutal rape<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">So be good to your ghost friends<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">During the Halloween season!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Except John Wayne Gacey<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Who will rape and murder for no particular reason<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Trick or Treat!</b></span><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Knock, knock, knock<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">on the door<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Little feet tap the porch floor<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Planning a little trickery fun<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I open the door and show them my gun<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Bang! Bang! Bang!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">No more on the door<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">An electric chair, for me, I’m sure is in store <br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3P5g46KeNkm7CKUU8KiMvqjZvga62RT2mkT_XFy6qLC1pFOjv43VbCvyXeO3V2MXaHB3u7KBnTbiWjKqQK3yKykQ9axo8RrnYJgJDreyQxfR702Nlc55J8eY-yyXWtFdtHYhevn6XBU/s1600-h/costumes(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3P5g46KeNkm7CKUU8KiMvqjZvga62RT2mkT_XFy6qLC1pFOjv43VbCvyXeO3V2MXaHB3u7KBnTbiWjKqQK3yKykQ9axo8RrnYJgJDreyQxfR702Nlc55J8eY-yyXWtFdtHYhevn6XBU/s320/costumes(2).jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Worst Halloween</b></span><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Locked in closet, hidden away<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I hide so no one can see<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">That I’m dressed as Michael Bay<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I was proud to be him on Halloween day<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">But now I feel shame, please leave me be<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Locked in a closet, hidden away<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">In my aviator glasses and directors beret<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Thinking how jealous others would be<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">That I’m dressed as Michael Bay<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I searched for props to help with my display<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Finding Transformers, I don’t know why they would be<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Locked in a closet, hidden away<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">“Action! Cut! More explosions!” I shout to children at play<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">They turn and looked angered, they could clearly see<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">That I’m dressed as Michael Bay<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">“Armageddon sucked,” they shout, “And, Bad Boys was gay!”<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">My heart sank, at that moment I wanted to be<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Locked in a closet, hidden away<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Now I am disgraced, and here I will stay<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I do not want anyone to see<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Locked in a closet, hidden away<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">That I’m dressed as Michael Bay<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Halloween Night!</b></span><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">It's Halloween! It's Halloween!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">The moon is full and bright<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">We shall see what can't be seen<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">On any other night<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Skeletons and ghosts and ghouls<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Grinning goblins with evil tools<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Werewolves rising from their tombs<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Witches on their magic brooms<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Every year these beasts come out in cliques<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">To extort treats with the threat of tricks<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I do the deed that others fear<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I get rid of these creatures every single year<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">On a short little witch my machete went wild<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I stabbed her; she cried “I’m only a child!”<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Knowing this was some sort of witchy spell<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I twisted the blade, and sent her to hell<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">A group of vampires screamed “We’re only ten!”<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I said “Then have honor, and die like men!”<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">They scattered and ran, but my stake and my sword<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">Made all of them bleed as they prayed for their lord<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I shot a werewolf with bullets made of silver<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">He cried and called for his mom while I dug out his liver<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">“I just want to go home!” I heard the mummy claim<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">As I doused him with gasoline and lit him aflame<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">A small goblin twitched as I quietly choked her<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I unloaded an Uzi on eight unsuspecting Joker’s<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I skinned alive Harry Potter and Hermione Granger<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">And axed at least a dozen blue Power Rangers<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">A skeleton cried “Please leave me be!”<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I ignored him and used his neck as a golf tee<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I busted a ghost, to him bullets I fed<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">His spectral white sheet now a bright crimson red<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">This is the norm, every 31st of October<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">The one time of year I refuse to stay sober<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">I might come to your town and help make it clean<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">From the demon spawn, hell beasts that come out on Halloween<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">It's Halloween! It's Halloween!<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">The moon is full and bright<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">We shall see what can't be seen<br />
</div><div style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">On any other night <br />
</div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-39133127475768707572009-10-22T04:45:00.003+01:002010-01-26T03:31:42.671+00:00WVU vs Marshall: Whose Side Are You On?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QLNQ7MRPvEM4rqm_NPgVGjfLKr3teM6rDKsMXqWOEzsmAwGDCK-oqAqvbbtDg23CmpOJlk0tWfBgUR_491diJdvKb4vacSKCxQOiC-cAYWb4nwuUnM8i5U-NF9NsbXDCadS9uxyk8DI/s1600-h/helmets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QLNQ7MRPvEM4rqm_NPgVGjfLKr3teM6rDKsMXqWOEzsmAwGDCK-oqAqvbbtDg23CmpOJlk0tWfBgUR_491diJdvKb4vacSKCxQOiC-cAYWb4nwuUnM8i5U-NF9NsbXDCadS9uxyk8DI/s320/helmets.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
West Virginia is a proud state that has many colleges claiming residency, schools such as West Virginia Wesleyan, Fairmont State, and Bethany College. But, none are as prominent as West Virginia University and Marshall University, the two biggest colleges in the state. Because of Marshall and WVU’s long standing history, many like to claim that the two universities’ are rivals and any interaction between the two should be seen as a major event, exploited by promotions that throw around the words “friends”, “coal”, and “of”. <br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5pq04JBuysnXzcEwo9YFd_GoTyVF9POrs3-lUb2JAX8_6CERCHZmoPTO06RaLuoNPFJx-2t1laKjM2VKKlHUQYfI5UYAewV4Va1i7fvv63anR1HasOo1v-gGgMkHMFHJdc9q_9x9YHI/s1600-h/coal+bowl.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5pq04JBuysnXzcEwo9YFd_GoTyVF9POrs3-lUb2JAX8_6CERCHZmoPTO06RaLuoNPFJx-2t1laKjM2VKKlHUQYfI5UYAewV4Va1i7fvv63anR1HasOo1v-gGgMkHMFHJdc9q_9x9YHI/s320/coal+bowl.gif" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QLNQ7MRPvEM4rqm_NPgVGjfLKr3teM6rDKsMXqWOEzsmAwGDCK-oqAqvbbtDg23CmpOJlk0tWfBgUR_491diJdvKb4vacSKCxQOiC-cAYWb4nwuUnM8i5U-NF9NsbXDCadS9uxyk8DI/s1600-h/helmets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
</div>The truth is that regardless of what ESPN and most idiots with a football hard-on want you to believe, Marshall and WVU don’t really see themselves as rivals. WVU and Marshall are more like two cousins that are forced to play against each other in tetherball while their parents drunkenly holler from their lawn chairs. They don’t really care who wins, they just want it to be over as quick and with as little fighting as possible. Unfortunately the brazen promotions and alcohol fueled fans who fill the stadiums and arenas for these events usually stir the competition pot, causing these two great schools to feign a heated rivalry that doesn’t really exist.<br />
<br />
So today we are going to take an in-depth comparison at WVU and Marshall, and try to put an end to this debate once and for all. First up is the most important aspect of a universities merit, it’s most glorified characteristic, the determining factor that makes a university great…<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sports</b></span><br />
<br />
If you thought I was going to say academics, than get your nose out of that book geek and go watch Sports Center.<br />
<br />
The sports programs at WVU and Marshall are varied. Both have well-known basketball and softball programs as well as tennis teams, baseball, and rugby squads. But, none of these compare to their football programs. Both WVU and Marshall pride their schools on their respected football teams: the Mountaineers, and the Thundering Herd. Throughout the years both schools have seen tragedy (the 1970 plane crash that nearly killed the entire Marshall football program comes to mind) and glorious triumph (WVU’s Fiesta Bowl victory after the departure of head coach Rich Rodriguez, for example). Both have sired many NFL prospects that went on to great prominence, (Randy Moss, Chad Pennington, and Byron Leftwich from Marshall; and Steve Slaton, Marc Bulger, and Amos Zereoué from WVU). <br />
<br />
You can make a compelling argument for both school’s football programs, but lets be honest, WVU is going to beat Marshall 10 times out of 10. Saying WVU is going to beat Marshall is like saying beer is delicious or boobs are awesome; you’re just restating facts. WVU has gone undefeated against Marshall in all four years of the current seven-year contract. I don’t understand how such a lopsided series could be called a rivalry, but for the sake of the argument I’ll count it.<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Winner- <span style="color: blue;">WVU</span></b></span><br />
</div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Academics</b></span><br />
<br />
Both Marshall and WVU have strengths and weaknesses when it comes to higher education. WVU has more students, so naturally they will have bigger classes and less student/professor interaction. Marshall is considerably smaller, allowing students the opportunity to get a more intimate experience. Also, smaller class rooms means less lectures and more discussions, encouraging more independent thoughts and expressions.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItnj4vKfM_m1i7HNM_EUZahPPUWsGYdRm7zp-XKo-F_zSWoZ_0G43jcF27LtS1FWqfGOEKT3thmnEMJML0XupaPuZDm5UcTlU5rwgyprlU3QZ5Jc-JI5gpxZedsxFWO2pZ9KbuQxIfeE/s1600-h/classroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItnj4vKfM_m1i7HNM_EUZahPPUWsGYdRm7zp-XKo-F_zSWoZ_0G43jcF27LtS1FWqfGOEKT3thmnEMJML0XupaPuZDm5UcTlU5rwgyprlU3QZ5Jc-JI5gpxZedsxFWO2pZ9KbuQxIfeE/s400/classroom.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yes, you can have an opinion, but that doesn't make you any less of a moron.</span>"<br />
</div><br />
On the other hand, more students means more income, and WVU utilizes that revenue by providing top of the line equipment Also, they simply have more majors to offer than Marshall, making them stand out to high school seniors. Also, WVU has more graduate programs, making it the place to be after your undergraduate work is complete. This is a tough call, but I’m going to have to go with WVU solely on the fact that they don’t have the Marshall Plan; a mandatory curriculum Marshall imposes on all its students to make them more “well-rounded,” but is really designed to keep you in school longer and drain your bank account.<br />
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<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Winner-<span style="background-color: white; color: blue;">WVU</span></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Campus</b></span><br />
<br />
Marshall University’s campus is ideal for students. All of the colleges are centralized in one area, making it relatively simple to commute from one class to the other. Also, it’s flat, so there is no straining to carry a bag full of books up several large hills while trying to make it to class in time. The student center is smack dab in the middle of campus, making it a great place for social interaction and student events. Marshall is also the home to a new state-of-the-art fitness center, that includes an Olympic sized pool and a new climbing wall. Marshall also seems to be moving toward the future. Recently they opened a new research center, several dormitories, and have constructed an impressive Alumni Center that alone makes smaller schools in West Virginia seem like piles of crap.<br />
<br />
WVU has no central location. It’s sprawled all over the city of Morgantown, and is plagued with rolling hills that make commuting a chore. WVU rarely constructs new facilities, choosing instead to update and renovate older buildings. WVU does have the PRT (Personal Rapid Transit) which shuttles students around the city. But, it’s unreliable at best, breaking down frequently and taking precious time to fix. As far as convenience goes, Marshall reigns supreme.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Winner-<span style="color: #38761d;">Marshall</span></b></span><br />
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<b>National Recognition</b></span><br />
<br />
You might have heard of this movie that came out a few years ago that starred Jack from <i>Lost </i>and the shirtless pot head from those chick movies. It was called <i>We Are Marshall</i> and depicted the events that surrounded the 1970 plane crash that nearly destroyed Marshall’s football program and devastated the city of Huntington. The crash alone made national headlines, but Marshall truly gained recognition after Warner Bros. exploited the tragedy for financial gain. The movie was titled after the chant heard at sporting events, and has become integrated in pop culture.<br />
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E0VRM0XUZI4&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E0VRM0XUZI4&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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While the film garnered mostly positive reviews, it failed to capture the national audience’s attention in the busy 2006 Christmas movie season. Recognition has always come easy for WVU, who’s nationally ranked football and basketball teams have lead many to believe they are the only university in the state of West Virginia. WVU is known nationwide, and they didn’t even need a mediocre movie to do it. <br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Winner-<span style="color: blue;">WVU</span></span></b><br />
</div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<b>Student Safety</b></span><br />
<br />
Just as they are known for their sports teams, WVU is also known as a major party school. But, its not your typical frat parties where togas are worn and inhibitions are thrown out the window. No, I’m talking about some really dangerous stuff. I was in Morgantown when the Mountaineers made it into the “Sweet 16,” and I literally feared for my life the entire evening. I saw people partying in the streets, couches burning in front lawns, and cops in full riot gear trying to control the chaos that had flooded the once quiet neighborhood. <br />
<br />
I saw a car explode. I saw a car explode and watched people cheer. I then realized I had entered an unknown level of hell full of drunk college girls and arsonists, and it would take all of my wits to make it out alive.<br />
<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Win, lose, they don't really care. WVU just want to see shit burn.</span><br />
</div><br />
The fact that the words “burning” and “couch” are synonymous with WVU is a pretty sad state of affairs. Aside from the anarchy that happens when a sports team wins, there isn’t really much else WVU has to offer its student body as far as recreational activities, so its no wonder they’re boredom drifts them toward mayhem. The few activities they do bring in are tailored to fit the party mentality, so their student activities board isn’t doing them any favors. Marshall, on the other hand, has events planned throughout the year to help curb the need for destruction, and encourage their students to use their energy more constructively. <br />
<br />
Marshall also has strict rules when it comes to on campus living. While having to subject your friends and family to security checks and sign-in procedures every time they come to visit might seem like a hassle, it helps ensure that Marshall’s campus is as safe as possible. The last time I visited a friend at WVU I saw a guy walk into his dorm with enough alcohol to get five Andre the Giant’s shit-faced, and no one said a word. Where do you think I felt safer?<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Winner-<span style="color: #38761d;">Marshall</span></b></span><br />
</div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Location</b></span><br />
<br />
Huntington, WV is a charming city that sits near the West Virginia, Ohio, and Kentucky borders. It is home to the "Central City" historic district in downtown, and is on the National Register of Historic Places. Some of it’s buildings date back to the 1800’s, and the Keith Albee Theater is a treasured landmark that's own storied history rivals broadway. And, in addition to embracing its storied past, the city is also building toward the future. The Pullman Square is a shopping center in walking distance from campus, and boasts state-of-the-art movie theaters, top-line clothing stores, various resteraunts, and a comedy club.<br />
<br />
Morgantown, WV is a rolling hill of darkness whose evil rivals that of the land of Mordor. I have been to Morgantown many times, and I can say with utmost honesty that every time I am there, the sun is not. I don't know if its hidden behind a fog of couch smoke or it just flat out refuses to inhabit the town, but I have never seen the sun shine in Morgantown, WV. In 2005 I was traveled there on the hottest day of the summer. It had gone almost four weeks without rain, and there were no clouds on the horizon. But, as soon as I crossed the city line, the sky darkened and rain poured for the next three days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PB5dLT8N8C89qSYf0k7n5eRdO1EklUROnW0SoirPLlRDx7ZTFsJovIQoqLDpGkpKEG-2rF-paGnGe1ERkBAHWhILkyhQuHYTxj6kqN03j5XGJd_wy3fO8lECJIEnaqz9ndtF6pYZnxE/s1600-h/mordor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PB5dLT8N8C89qSYf0k7n5eRdO1EklUROnW0SoirPLlRDx7ZTFsJovIQoqLDpGkpKEG-2rF-paGnGe1ERkBAHWhILkyhQuHYTxj6kqN03j5XGJd_wy3fO8lECJIEnaqz9ndtF6pYZnxE/s320/mordor.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Morgantown, WV.</span><br />
</div><br />
Also, Morgantown is a pain to navigate through, and it's nearly impossible not to get stuck in traffic. There is nothing interesting to do that is within walking distance, and if you do find an activity to distract you from the monotonous gray skys, chances are it will involve copious amounts of alcohol. The city is too small to inhabit the amount of people living in it, so everyone is literally stepping over each other to get around. Why anyone would want to live in this city beyond academic persuits is beyond me. <br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Winner-<span style="color: #38761d;">Marshall</span></b></span><br />
</div><br />
Due to Marshall's less than stellar sports teams and WVU's overall shitty location it's come down to a tie. Lets go to the final category to see which university is superior:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Tuition</b></span><br />
<br />
College is the greatest racket in the history of mankind. It is a device used to exploit naive high school graduates whose fear of the unknown compel them to stay in school as long as possible. Tuition prices nationwide have gone up 6.5 percent in the past year, and are only going to get higher. Neither school should win for their vagrant abuse of the educational system.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Winner-Nobody</span></b><br />
</div><br />
Since there was no tie breaker in place you would think that as a son of Marshall I would automatically give them the win. But, in a twist of M. Night Shamalamadingdong proportions, I am going to award the title of "Best University in WV" to West Liberty State University! Sure, they might barely be a university...hell they are barely even a school...but what they lack in academics, sports, and over-all excellence, they make up for with...um...crap. To be honest WLSU is basically high school, they just hand out degrees. But, they're cheap, and that's all it takes to win my favor.<br />
<br />
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</div>Congratulations West Liberty, now show me to the enrollment building.Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-21873803917582514592009-10-15T02:34:00.005+01:002010-01-26T03:31:56.278+00:00Blog Action Day 2009: How Climate Change and Rush Limbaugh COULD Shape the Future<span style="font-weight: bold;">September 15, 2014. 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC. The Office of President Rush Limbaugh.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">It's been almost two years since President Rush Limbaugh took office, and the world's climate has gone through horrifying change. The President's crusade against global warming awareness, (deeming it “liberal bullshit") has brought the world to the brink of environmental catastrophes of Michael Bay like proportions. Since The JohnsoNation has become the most reliable source of news in the country, I felt it was my duty to sit down with the President and discuss the current state of not only the country, but of the world itself.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> I entered the Oval Office and found him reviewing his approval rating; a staggering zero percent. </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Once a powerful radio personality and political leader, he was now a shell of his former self. </span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimVB9Er_YjhyphenhyphennlTEiShArk37mcdb9zfhd6h-3nM-K4Iw8JJl9Nrl3zHmu2RWCFAHrgF99diVYfFKBUn0tIkxiBNkuAiz3NPg1vLeClyff1F-MjiBpL77d6clVszAL25B87o0ubFj6x9Q/s1600-h/PresidentRushLimbaugh.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392655727074731442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimVB9Er_YjhyphenhyphennlTEiShArk37mcdb9zfhd6h-3nM-K4Iw8JJl9Nrl3zHmu2RWCFAHrgF99diVYfFKBUn0tIkxiBNkuAiz3NPg1vLeClyff1F-MjiBpL77d6clVszAL25B87o0ubFj6x9Q/s320/PresidentRushLimbaugh.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 242px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Mr. President, thank you for meeting with me.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
President Limbaugh:</span> Not a problem, it’s great to get a chance to talk to the press. I used to do interviews daily, sometimes three or four if I felt like it. But, for some reason reporters have been particularly scarce.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Yes, unfortunately the media has taken a large hit in numbers due to current climate problems.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Yes, no doubt because strong willed American’s refuse to become a part of the liberal machine and conforming to their storm of lies and deceit.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Actually Mr. President I think it’s because news reporting has become the single most dangerous job on the planet.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Well, I don’t really see how that makes sense.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: It’s dangerous because it requires us to go outside, something the National Weather Council has specifically stated we shouldn’t do.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">The President looked down at his shoes and pretended not to hear me.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I decided to continue anyway.</span>)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: There have been more weather related fatalities in the United States over the past two years than there have been murders, vehicular accidents, and natural causes combined.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Where did you get those facts? NBC?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: No sir, from the 2011 census.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Well, aren’t weather related fatalities considered to be “Natural Causes?”<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: They used to be sir, but the high volume of deaths related to volcanoes, hurricanes, and monsoons have caused the Bureau to create a new category.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">The President stood and made his way over to the liquor cabinet</span>.)<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Limbaugh</span>: Hmm… no doubt Gore tampered with it somehow…<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson: </span>Mr. President I'd like to begin by asking you a very simple question that I believe all Americans would like to know.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Go ahead son, you know I've always been a straight shooter. I've never been afraid to talk about the big issues, and I'm not about to start now. What's your question?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Considering the fact that you were presented with documented proof four years ago that global warming exists, and also considering the fact that you not only blatantly ignored the warning signs that lead you to steer the world toward a ecological disaster, I have really only one question: Are you an idiot?<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">There was a long silence. The President and I sat for almost five minutes without saying a word. He looked off into the distance, as if he had completely lost himself in thought. After I made several hinting coughs and threw a pencil at him, he finally responded.</span>)<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">: </span>I know that it looks bad out there. I know this. I know this because I have a damn window and I can see that it's bad. It's mid-September and it has already snowed three times in the past week. Yesterday I watched the floor split in half while I was sitting on the toilet. But, these are not things that are in our control, this is just mother nature taking its course.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Johnson</span>: Mr. President this is a very serious problem. Your strong stance against global warming awareness has caused CO<sub>2</sub> levels to increase dramatically in the past two years.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">He calmly poured himself a glass of scotch and noded his head in my direction, offering me a glass. I politely declined.</span>)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: The liberal media wants to blame me for all of the world’s problems. I stand by my campaign and promise I made to the world that there is no such thing as global warming. Hell, it's not my fault that cows fart.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Mr. President I think it’s clear that--<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Look, we have no control over the climate, this is fact. What I do is try to derive truth. I find the truth and expose it. There is no global warming. We are human beings, and there is not a damn thing we could do to cause or stop it. Things just happen.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Mr. President in 2009 former President Obama worked closely with the United Nations to start a global move toward conserving our natural resources and cleaner fuel options.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Oh God, here we go...<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: In 2010 scientists around the world, both liberal and conservative, agreed that aerosol and fuel emissions were dramatically altering the earth’s climate.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">The President downed his glass of scotch and started to pour himself another.</span>)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: In 2011 you began your aggressive presidential campaign by discrediting the green movement and their scientific findings. You focused your agenda completely on big government and how it was taking away freedoms by mandating our energy policies. You threw around words like “Social Terrorism” and “Anti-Capitalism," to scare older voters, and used the fear of being a social pariah to gain the youth vote. You used fear to rally the country against environmentalism and completely ignored the fact that we were on our way to an ecological disaster. So I must ask you again Mr. President... are you an idiot?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHrMHKdw3gFdZnffMLZebOzm4chFA6T07gvxiNOVcIih3_9ps9HbuRNldpLzKMNS-l75Esrf1Fr_y5qc4Q7RaJazOrIb50W9GDW4FePtcEEYQP0_fmOKpxPG_j1n5EX1O34Uhqic5el8/s1600-h/GREEN!.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392656138012105858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHrMHKdw3gFdZnffMLZebOzm4chFA6T07gvxiNOVcIih3_9ps9HbuRNldpLzKMNS-l75Esrf1Fr_y5qc4Q7RaJazOrIb50W9GDW4FePtcEEYQP0_fmOKpxPG_j1n5EX1O34Uhqic5el8/s320/GREEN!.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 303px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 227px;" /></a><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilq0TPXHDICKxB2q7KCInmfQ_aJcf-nePgxH8Jv0PSzJXOihS9Osbt_92aREvemxZGPOogL3AlRo1qUE0ADGPguQZodIZWT_rh-g4eLcP-ZxXB_VGKGA9jGEnyvCOEYm_lCS3V44PIeYY/s1600-h/TERROR.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392658168122238866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilq0TPXHDICKxB2q7KCInmfQ_aJcf-nePgxH8Jv0PSzJXOihS9Osbt_92aREvemxZGPOogL3AlRo1qUE0ADGPguQZodIZWT_rh-g4eLcP-ZxXB_VGKGA9jGEnyvCOEYm_lCS3V44PIeYY/s320/TERROR.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 227px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjXNI8JLZeL-HqzKQV591D5d5sr6xEy1H_uP5GD1EWW5sE79PTkSLRF6LF9FGPdH30FQc2RrYwTxh1fHUWW_HJpdvWKXIqECLyIU-6gBy0upg8I4u6Q3U3iSzdZfbJGcpAAlgzSpdFsQ/s1600-h/01125111.Par.89380.ImageFile.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392657595681932562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjXNI8JLZeL-HqzKQV591D5d5sr6xEy1H_uP5GD1EWW5sE79PTkSLRF6LF9FGPdH30FQc2RrYwTxh1fHUWW_HJpdvWKXIqECLyIU-6gBy0upg8I4u6Q3U3iSzdZfbJGcpAAlgzSpdFsQ/s400/01125111.Par.89380.ImageFile.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 288px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
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</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Hold on a second there. Now it’s true that I may have avoided the climate change issue, but I did so for a better tomorrow. The Liberal’s "junk science" was based on questionable data. They used lies and deceit for so long its hard to judge when they are being honest. Besides, even though I don't buy into their findings, I have never done anything to cause harm to our environment.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: During your campaign you handed out aerosol cans to the voters and told them to “spray for freedom.”<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">The President closed his eyes and pressed his fore finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose</span>.)<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Limbaugh</span>: Look that was because…come on guy, really? You want to throw that in my face?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: In 2012 you won the election, and effectively banned all fuel sources that were not in favor of Halliburton’s new “Oil For Everything” campaign. Miraculously you managed to get U.N. backing, making Halliburton the most powerful company in the world.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Look they had a great campaign model…<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Their campaign model was to replace every single energy source with oil. Even wind and hydro electric power were banned.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">His eyes grew wide, and his posture firmed. For a brief moment, he became the Rush Limbaugh of old as he spoke his next words.</span>)<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Limbaugh</span>: Any other source of energy would have to be government mandated, and I am completely against big government.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: So you relied on a privately owned big oil company to handle not only America's energy crisis, but the world's?<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">He slumped back into his familiar, impotent frame, and looked at me in confusion.</span>)<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Limbaugh</span>: Huh? What are we talking about?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: You said “Any other source of energy would have to be government mandated, and I am completely against big government.”<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Did I? I guess it’s more of a reflex now. Look I admire people coming up with alternative fuel sources and so forth, but there is nothing wrong with oil. Halliburton’s campaign model promised that we would not run out of it for a long time.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: That’s true, but in January of 2013 we officially ran out of oil.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Well, we may have run out of domestic drilling sites, but we are working toward trading with other countries…<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Not just America, the whole world.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: We clearly aren't looking hard enough then. Perhaps we'll revisit Alaska.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: In February of 2013 CO2 levels were higher than they had ever been, causing the earth's temperature to rise a staggering 103 degrees in less than 3 weeks. This caused a glacier the size of Texas to break away from the polar ice caps. This glacier collided with the state of Alaska and sunk it to the bottom of the ocean.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">The President bites his lower lip and looks to the ground in shame.</span>)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: In March of 2013 twenty-five different animal species were put on the endangered list, and in April twenty-two were officially declared extinct.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Hey there! Most of the animals on the list were already dwindling in numbers. It’s not fair to blame this administration for the extinction of the Koala Bear, the Panda, and the Manatee.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: That’s true, but also on the list were Gophers, Antelope, Squirrels, and the common Pigeon.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Yikes.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Increased temperatures and precipitation along with the subsequent sequestration of airborne CO<sub>2</sub> have caused vegetation stress, rapid plant loss, and world wide famine. To be honest with you sir, I'm only doing this interview on the promise that their would be a half eaten hot dog in it for me.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">He made his way over to the window, and stared in silence. He watched as a bald eagle perched on the veranda outside, causing him to crack a small smile. The smile quickly faded as he watched the majestic bird hack up it's heart and die</span>.)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Do you remember the way things used to be... the way... I used to be?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: I remember not having to clean the fish bones and dead skin out of my water.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: People used to admire me... they would look to me for guidance.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: You were a role model to many.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Yes... I was... heroic.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: I didn't say that.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: I remember when I was special. I remember when America was special. I remember when the air was clean, and the sun would shine. Now I have to put on a gas mask just to get the mail.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Well Mr. President, in a way you still are special.<br />
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(<span style="font-style: italic;">He looked at me with a small tear in his eye, and shot me a little smile.</span>)<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh</span>: Really? Why is that?<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: You can afford a gas mask. Most of us just hold our breath while we run from door to door.<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">His smile dissipated as he buried his face in his hands and wept.</span>)<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Mr. President thank you for your time, but I really need to get going. Its getting late and the giant cockroaches come out at night.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Limbaugh: </span>Cockroaches?<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Oh yeah, there are giant cockroaches now. Scientists think that the impending apocalypse has caused their evolutionary genes to kick into over drive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrf6taesAmfHoesJEPs6Pytkd6-qymMJNqGxxkIChz6XeFZvCm1Que-9KJ_MgH0czcLcBk8ka12Tk8b9VmWy7yaaNPZeREnldEIzxzm5oxKloIrF8-hr6SuyS4fCQLobAhIvcNgoS2kI/s1600-h/cockroach.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392670943570780962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrf6taesAmfHoesJEPs6Pytkd6-qymMJNqGxxkIChz6XeFZvCm1Que-9KJ_MgH0czcLcBk8ka12Tk8b9VmWy7yaaNPZeREnldEIzxzm5oxKloIrF8-hr6SuyS4fCQLobAhIvcNgoS2kI/s400/cockroach.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 245px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 182px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: Before I go, is there any last words you'd like to say to the public?<br />
<br />
(<span style="font-style: italic;">He sobbed as he tried to speak, but his tears said more than his words.</span>)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
<br />
Limbaugh</span>: What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry?<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: You know that's not what I want to hear.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
<br />
</span>(<span style="font-style: italic;">He wiped away the tears and snot from his face, and gave me a look. Not his former trademark look of arrogance, nor a look of humbled acceptance. He looked at me with eyes of anger and defeat. He was a broken man.</span>)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
<br />
Limbaugh: </span></span>I'm an idiot.<br />
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(<span style="font-style: italic;">I turned away and walked toward the door. Before I left I looked back at him one more time, taking in the image of a dejected Rush Limbaugh in all his pathetic glory.</span>)<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Johnson</span>: We know, Mr. President. We know.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #ff9900; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">For more on the issue of climate control, visit </span><a href="http://www.blogactionday.org/" style="color: #33ccff;">www.blogactionday.org</a><span style="color: #33ccff; font-style: italic;"></span><span style="color: #ff9900; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">, and check out some other blogs that discuss this important topic.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogactionday.org/"><img border="0" src="http://www.blogactionday.org/imgs/badges/bad-300-250.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-39167077790426890632009-09-30T03:49:00.001+01:002019-05-03T15:31:20.919+01:005 Reasons Why I Hate Country MusicSomething horrible has happened to music. A revolution has begun that causes ears to bleed and babies to self-abort. Many still remember when Kanye West bum rushed Taylor Swift at the MTV Video Music Awards, but few recognize that it overshadowed a much stranger event; a country song won an award at a non-country centric musical award show. Everyone accused Kanye West of acting like a jack ass, but what you don't realize is that he was trying to save us. He was trying to save us from the new surge in country music popularity.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8fnA6fdJ_Yoersh50z7IIh5hHVzwmPmoQaTMVBCCv2mhmDnSTaJLldb5-9BzdPZLBaJP4mj4_N0hnvlBdLJqAgeLm4YoB2ltUVSncVNmuXbYR_NktvH614FoWF7iBtAqlGn337gu2zI/s1600-h/kanye.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387090113983138402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8fnA6fdJ_Yoersh50z7IIh5hHVzwmPmoQaTMVBCCv2mhmDnSTaJLldb5-9BzdPZLBaJP4mj4_N0hnvlBdLJqAgeLm4YoB2ltUVSncVNmuXbYR_NktvH614FoWF7iBtAqlGn337gu2zI/s400/kanye.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 291px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 258px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">He came to save us... and we crucified him.</span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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It's hard to imagine that not long ago country music was reserved for farmers, Nascar<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>fans, and Texas. So today I'm going to list the top reasons why I despise this burden on my ears and pray to Kanye that you see the light. And, remember country music fans that I am allowed to have my own opinion, just as you are allowed to have yours. The only difference is that my opinion is valid.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">#5: Today’s Country Music is Not Real Country Music</span><br />
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Remember the music of Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Kenny Rogers, and Waylon Jennings? That's country music. Those guys wrote songs that influenced generations and fought against the established order. Then in 1992 something horrible happened. Billy Ray Cyrus released a song called "Achy Breaky Heart" and caused jukeboxes around the United States to be infected with a deadly sound that made middle aged women go into pleasure seizures, and made drunk idiots think they could dance.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiwE5BhLQpoC1Jo6jggXUXnop3mp31AXxhfvG0cIp3xWwxqbiYi_OcLaNBJPxwMkLmCm-8mbXbiXiHUnCtSa6kqcCxvbR6uIt95800ENS_bvcuUuUjzsBuBP5kE6B4FDMFGqCLark364/s1600-h/abh.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387095205277735874" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiwE5BhLQpoC1Jo6jggXUXnop3mp31AXxhfvG0cIp3xWwxqbiYi_OcLaNBJPxwMkLmCm-8mbXbiXiHUnCtSa6kqcCxvbR6uIt95800ENS_bvcuUuUjzsBuBP5kE6B4FDMFGqCLark364/s400/abh.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 256px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 262px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">If you play it backwards you'll hear a recipe for devil's food cake... from SATAN.<br />
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"Achy Breaky Heart" was the catylist for the new wave of country music that would effectively rape and murder the classics. Since this day (known as "Achy Breaky Apocolypse" by the survivors) many new artists have come forth with songs about fast trucks, loose women, and sexually promiscuous tractors.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwrpuFDFZIut2aU7alq2KMFpfL3Fb0sU4DgzI10Nl-US_u7-JoIEg6ddvmV-xrEebm9uh0TtsY78QPXjHFWn2WaEHoEe-SvrB7Vgk24sxt4JkmUT2jZo6nN1DRgEz48xJ03NRXAyUaKc/s1600-h/tractor-side.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387096954319261474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwrpuFDFZIut2aU7alq2KMFpfL3Fb0sU4DgzI10Nl-US_u7-JoIEg6ddvmV-xrEebm9uh0TtsY78QPXjHFWn2WaEHoEe-SvrB7Vgk24sxt4JkmUT2jZo6nN1DRgEz48xJ03NRXAyUaKc/s400/tractor-side.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 195px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 256px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">That tractor gave me gonorrhea.</span> </div>
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Now there are endless country acts that write songs about trivial topics, and they all sound the same. I swear if you play me ten country songs by ten different artists, and then asked me to name the musician, I'd probably say "Garth Brooks" ten times. Then again if you made me listen to ten country songs in a row I'd probably strangle you to death before turning the piano wire on myself.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">#4: Line Dancing</span><br />
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Another byproduct of the "Achy Breaky" nightmare was the creation of line dancing. Line dancing is what happens when a group of country fans hear a song they like and decided to cut a rug. What many don't realize is that line dancing is not dancing, it is the absence of dancing. Line dancing kills real dancing. Line dancing is a choreographed dance with a repeated sequence of steps in which a group of people dance in one or more lines or rows, all facing the <span id="lw_1254342144_2">same direction</span>, and executing the steps at the same time.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu2-YjfRem9gV3WTiphijSO-zotFPrQEAh15sYmlSrEJCDwHDUJ1z94fAzZ9EzedgALEgJKQcw6TLQPmboFcPWN0dlqtumZIjBu21wr5DbGfcQeQmFPtWiuYRlAlJkwC9yaVQT_3zpd8/s1600-h/nazi.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387363213145866338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu2-YjfRem9gV3WTiphijSO-zotFPrQEAh15sYmlSrEJCDwHDUJ1z94fAzZ9EzedgALEgJKQcw6TLQPmboFcPWN0dlqtumZIjBu21wr5DbGfcQeQmFPtWiuYRlAlJkwC9yaVQT_3zpd8/s400/nazi.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 275px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 370px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">Like Nazi's.</span></div>
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Now I personally hate all forms of dancing, but I usually will stomach it if it leads to the possibility of some kissing with a pretty dame. But, line dancing has no regard for the gender of the individuals. So you could start off trying to dance with vivacious Betty Sue, but end up next to her cousin Gerald who just can't seem to get the timing right. So unless experimenting with your place on the sexuality spectrum is your sort of thing, line dancing has no immediate advantage unless your goal is to practice goose stepping.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">#3: Poor Choices in Style and Fashion</span><br />
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Wrangler jeans. Large white <span id="lw_1254342144_4">stetson hats</span>. Over-sized <span id="lw_1254342144_5">belt buckles</span> that double as bottle openers. <span id="lw_1254342144_6">American flags</span> turned into button up shirts. <span id="lw_1254342144_7">Cowboy boots</span> with jeans tucked inside them. This is standard <span id="lw_1254342144_8">country music fan</span> attire. <span id="lw_1254342144_9">Blue collar workers</span> decided that they would take on the very cool idea of being a cowboy and make it as tacky as possible.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LGaJMR5FO8CqL7VJRT5Et5GbdnX3cmdyO5OM5cvX_Ef-_8OlIH2S4rbprj7Gu79x9F_6tr7rtFODkR8WYiIXZsLfIpC1MsEjqF97-2DQmAzMVtWwjkiRMfXr28xahe4ogNSW4mTHWPg/s1600-h/cowboy_crop.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387362880687581954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LGaJMR5FO8CqL7VJRT5Et5GbdnX3cmdyO5OM5cvX_Ef-_8OlIH2S4rbprj7Gu79x9F_6tr7rtFODkR8WYiIXZsLfIpC1MsEjqF97-2DQmAzMVtWwjkiRMfXr28xahe4ogNSW4mTHWPg/s400/cowboy_crop.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 311px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">So tacky it makes Elton John blush.</span></div>
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The majority of people who wear <span id="lw_1254342144_11">cowboy hats</span> have never tended cattle, nor faced the harsh climates of the plains while making 25 cents an hour. Now a days a <span id="lw_1254342144_12">cowboy hat</span> is only beneficially for douche bag watchers, trying to find a new species of douche.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFqeymoN0ylmCskd7BhWr13A6lun50oOIV2tml_w82JrZrIbgT6nSco6etebEUKk2iMDqaYdFF936q2iMpetiei-9o_8pjVYo4LTg5WY9VPzkRIbYUXGUn0j4-fNO5zFtvEDKE-FNkT8/s1600-h/garth.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387363190534470866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFqeymoN0ylmCskd7BhWr13A6lun50oOIV2tml_w82JrZrIbgT6nSco6etebEUKk2iMDqaYdFF936q2iMpetiei-9o_8pjVYo4LTg5WY9VPzkRIbYUXGUn0j4-fNO5zFtvEDKE-FNkT8/s400/garth.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 256px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 256px;" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The thunder rolls, my friends.</span></div>
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Most <span id="lw_1254342144_14" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer;">country music fans</span> seem to think of the <span id="lw_1254342144_15">Confederate flag</span> as a style choice, and will put it on almost anything, regardless of the social or historical implications. Since it seems that the majority of people who proudly wave the symbol of the Confederacy do not know what it stands for, they help encourage the "Stupid American" stereo type, and make Canada look better by comparison... and that place is all kinds of backward.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4SRkvaiIrZiTuTqQi-LJHo2Kbn2p2aQeXbx46ZwvWhCXUtqmTGyei5M1ffKZXfMn4UuernDnGD9Rvouv67Oi7exHmaNl3wFsd7c6MwjDjWbZykRA_uYA_QBKxju5YwldmOlEfE30X_A/s1600-h/mountie.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387363202290515842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4SRkvaiIrZiTuTqQi-LJHo2Kbn2p2aQeXbx46ZwvWhCXUtqmTGyei5M1ffKZXfMn4UuernDnGD9Rvouv67Oi7exHmaNl3wFsd7c6MwjDjWbZykRA_uYA_QBKxju5YwldmOlEfE30X_A/s400/mountie.gif" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 330px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 168px;" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Canada's cowboy: The Mountie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">#2: Inspires Uber-Patriotism</span><br />
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Country music is considered by many to be the voice of America's heartland. That's unfortunate since most of the patriotic/pro-America songs make American's look like ignorant white bread trash.<br />
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Don't believe me? Watch this.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<object height="405" width="500"><param name="movie" value="https://www.youtube.com/v/NynbLtRLisg&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="https://www.youtube.com/v/NynbLtRLisg&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object></div>
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I absolutely love how literal the guy was when he put together this video. My favorite part was at 1:16 when the Bald Eagle flips you off. We've destroyed their habitat and driven them to near extinction, but yeah, damn those jihad. I also really like at 1:57 when it showed a picture of Saddam Hussein being hung, even though he had nothing to do with 9/11. Cause, you know, screw facts.<br />
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This song was written by Toby Keith, a walking, singing stereotype who has a talent for appearing to be endearing while actually being an intolerant asshole. After the release of "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" he had a notable feud with the lead singer of the Dixie Chicks, Natalie Maines. She publicly criticized Keith's song by saying, "I hate it. It's ignorant, and it makes country music sound ignorant. It targets an entire culture - and not just the bad people who did bad things. You've got to have some tact. Anybody can write, 'We'll put a boot in your ass'..."<br />
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Toby responded with the most tact he could muster:<br />
<br />
"I'll bury her. She has never written anything that has been a hit..."<br />
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He then began displaying a backdrop showing a doctored photo of Maines with Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein at all of his concerts, cause you know, that's the mature response.<br />
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Along with Toby Keith's redneck anthem, Alan Jackson took the opportunity to show the world that he too was just as ignorant and could profit off of the deaths of thousands.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<object height="405" width="500"><param name="movie" value="https://www.youtube.com/v/fvj6zdWLUuk&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="https://www.youtube.com/v/fvj6zdWLUuk&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
I guess you can forgive Alan Jackson for thinking Hussein was involved with 9/11 since he can't tell the difference between Iraq and Iran, and I guess Afghanistan.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFc3ePKlsRxdKv4dKpq6lLM_qqfXmKF7r8HbCEb9vJ5NEdaCAb7uD6pKaJqZrO9ZB0xByZ65L6cc5bgdxVgEonavr2ISYjuH5xQS9hyEQ5FmRTbPU59vmqf38y4RW07lR6_kpOvhQ97-I/s1600-h/alan.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387382403218743298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFc3ePKlsRxdKv4dKpq6lLM_qqfXmKF7r8HbCEb9vJ5NEdaCAb7uD6pKaJqZrO9ZB0xByZ65L6cc5bgdxVgEonavr2ISYjuH5xQS9hyEQ5FmRTbPU59vmqf38y4RW07lR6_kpOvhQ97-I/s400/alan.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 277px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 184px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">You've never even looked at a globe, have you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">#1: Jamboree in the Hills</span><br />
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Jamboree in the Hills, also known as the "Super Bowl of Country Music," is a four-day-long concert held annually in the rolling hills of Morristown, Ohio. In reality it is an annual hedonism festival designed to encourage as many alcohol related mistakes as possible.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MI6fSfReB4RVTVhI3Gg6CngM2IPanJewVRz3pkMNaLYxuGoRXRh1Cb4iyRKwClsXr9OIi7oM5Tu6Q_6UhQ0p5GjkqyIc7lA_u_E3pdu3LlveWJp_f3Ov7imj8z5P7vgAyB4GcsSTh1E/s1600-h/jamboree-in-the-hills-4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387385433191605090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MI6fSfReB4RVTVhI3Gg6CngM2IPanJewVRz3pkMNaLYxuGoRXRh1Cb4iyRKwClsXr9OIi7oM5Tu6Q_6UhQ0p5GjkqyIc7lA_u_E3pdu3LlveWJp_f3Ov7imj8z5P7vgAyB4GcsSTh1E/s400/jamboree-in-the-hills-4.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 229px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 304px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">The kind of mistakes that will cause you to wake up next to this.<br />
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There are only a few seating arrangements or assigned places at the Jamboree site, so each morning during the event, hundreds of country music fans stampede through the gate with their blankets, tarps, and lawn chairs, and try to get a space as close to the stage as possible. This is often a muddy and chaotic event and has been dubbed over the years as "The Redneck Run" and the name couldn't be more appropriate.<br />
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Every year I am forced to endure the promotion and execution of the Jamboree, and now since I work in the medical field I am required to provide assistance to the victims of this orgy of chaos. This past summer the majority of patients I visited had Jamboree related injuries. Yes I hate the Jamboree, but what I hate more is how everybody swears its the greatest thing ever. You know what else people thought was great? The Titanic.<br />
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<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natalie_Maines#cite_note-16"></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natalie_Maines#cite_note-17"></a>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com78tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-32083333268559662802009-09-22T23:25:00.001+01:002019-05-06T02:16:36.569+01:00Guest Blogger Alena McAllister: Twilight of the Stupid<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 130%;">When my good friend Andrew asked me to guest blog for him, we spent some time brainstorming about what exactly I might want to write on. Nothing was getting me motivated until Andrew thought of a topic that was timely, culturally-relevant, and got my ire going enough that I'd be able to ramble on about it for a few hundred words. What Andrew asked me was, "How do you feel about </span><span style="font-size: 130%;"><i style="font-family: georgia;">Twilight</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 130%;">?"</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 130%;">Now at this point I think it may be important for you to know a few things about me. First of all, I have a B.A. in </span><span id="lw_1253756699_2" style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 130%;">English literature</span><span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 130%;">. What that means is that when I read something, I suck all the life and fun out of it until the text is a mere shell of what it once was. I'm sorry. That's what we do. Second, most of my research focused on sex and gender in texts, so that is what I see when I read. The head of my department was fond of saying, "If it's just a blade of grass, then you've missed something."</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">I read Stephanie Meyer's <i>Twilight </i>and the rest of the books in the series last summer, right in the middle of the hype surrounding the fourth book. My coworkers were addicted to the series, and they quite literally held me down, taped my eyelids open, and forced me to read them. That, by the way, is exactly how it happened. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">They thrust the first book upon me less than a week before the fourth was released, and within that week I read all of them. They were awful in a way that made me physically unable to put them down. Awful like a train wreck - no. Awful like a herd of kittens and puppies with newborn babies strapped to their backs meandering through a railroad crossing while a train filled with gasoline and fireworks bears down on them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">So, yeah, I read them and I couldn't stop. Don't think this makes you better than me, because you're not. Despite this, the <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight </span>series</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> really, REALLY pissed me off, and for basically two reasons.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">First up, Meyers treatment of teenage sexuality in the books. Ok, so kudos to you, Steph. I get that you were attempting to give us a more realistic, more modern portrayal of sex in high school. I can appreciate the plan, just not the delivery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">She spends the first three books teasing readers with hints of the night that Bella and Edward will one day share - only, that is after they're married. Edward, since he is supposedly the perfect gentleman, insists upon that. (Let's not discuss the fact that he's actually the perfect pedophile, given that he's something like eighty years older than Bella. He may <i>look</i> like he's eighteen, but the bottom line is that he's not even close. Not important! Look the other way!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">You want some candy, little girl?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Edward sneaks into Bella's bedroom almost every night, sharing her bed and then leaving before her father wakes in the morning. "Nothing happens!" Meyers tells us, practically bashing us over the head with the supposed innocence of it all. "Nothing happens until they're married," she promises in one breath, while describing all the intimacy of their contact in the next. By the fourth book, readers are on pins and needles; they know what's, um, coming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">But then, just like the girl in high school who used to let you get some under-the-shirt but over-the-bra action after the football games, Stephanie Meyers won't go all the way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Meyers to readers: "Promise ring, bitches!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">In the biggest rip-off I've seen in a long while, Meyers pulls out the old "fade to black" on us, managing to gloss over every bit of the happy couple's </span><span id="lw_1253658348_4" style="font-size: 130%;">wedding night</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> in a few quick paragraphs. Now, to clarify, I'm not asking for porn, here. If that's what I wanted, I'd go pick up a Fabio-covered Harlequin romance from </span><span id="lw_1253658348_5" style="font-size: 130%;">Half Price Books</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> and be done with it. Or I'd just break out some </span><span id="lw_1253658348_6" style="font-size: 130%;">Updike</span><span style="font-size: 130%;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">My gripe with Meyers treatment of the honeymoon is about consistency. Don't claim that you're striving for a realistic, gritty portrayal of teenage sexuality and then shy away from actually doing the deed. Don't describe </span><span id="lw_1253658348_7" style="font-size: 130%;">passionate kisses</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> and </span><span id="lw_1253658348_8" style="font-size: 130%;">intimate moments</span><span style="font-size: 130%;">, but then balk at the thought of actually having to write about the physical realities of sex. Send more of a mixed message, Steph? How precisely is that displaying a more mature understanding of the questions and situations that teenagers face when it comes to their sexuality?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">That brings us to issue number two: Bella's complete and utter lack of a personality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">What do readers really learn about Bella through the course of the books? Bella loves Edward, check. Bella wants to be with Edward, check. Bella thinks Edward is the most beautiful thing <i>evar</i>, check. Bella wants to be a vampire like Edward, check. Are we noticing a pattern here?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">There is nothing Meyers tells us about who Bella is that isn't dependent upon her relationship with Edward. What are her interests, hobbies, goals, motivations? I dunno. Oh wait, yes I do - Edward, Edward, Edward, and Edward. Bella's personality is about as multifaceted as dirty dishwater, and it only gets worse as the series goes on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Eventually it is revealed that each of the vampires in <i>Twilight </i>has a special power. You know, like the X-men. One can see the future, another is especially strong, another can read minds. You know, like the X-men.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> My skin shimmers in the sunlight, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Bella's power is finally revealed in the last book, after she becomes a vampire. Imagine my excitement as I realized that this was coming. "Finally," I thought, fool that I am. "Good old Steph is finally going to redeem herself and give Bella a chance to shine!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">I'm a moron.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">What is Bella's power? Well, it turns out that Bella can act as a shield. She can focus on a vampire or vampires and block them from using their special powers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Please excuse me while I smash my face off my keyboard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">So what did Meyers give Bella? A power that is <i>entirely dependent upon the ACTUAL powers of the other people around her</i>. Her power is nothing, in fact cannot exist at all, except within the context of other vampires. She doesn't get to act - she gets to react. Hooray for the victory of damn dull dishwater.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">To make a long story short (too late), the <i>Twilight </i>series is a fantastic read if you can stomach the notion of a personality-free heroine who spends roughly the first 1500 pages dreaming and plotting about how to get a man eighty years her senior to marry her just so she can have sex with him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePkoh1Ev3mWN_oUBqtUOliVrJQtsyKQhC280ANzNGuczjtxMT2NKwvQgLK0xwliUhdemgM8SFrPrPzpEnBh_waps3ia9I7OZB7vH0Yggc1Q5tG-jp5PbHhIzqm4Vdksqc3_dGcjdwn_s/s1600-h/anna+nicole.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384705282253993202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePkoh1Ev3mWN_oUBqtUOliVrJQtsyKQhC280ANzNGuczjtxMT2NKwvQgLK0xwliUhdemgM8SFrPrPzpEnBh_waps3ia9I7OZB7vH0Yggc1Q5tG-jp5PbHhIzqm4Vdksqc3_dGcjdwn_s/s320/anna+nicole.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 316px;" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">"I don't remember selling the rights to my autobiography ..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Like I said, I read all four books in a week.</span></div>
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Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-45118854088772930382009-09-08T08:00:00.001+01:002019-05-02T21:10:11.246+01:00The JohnsoNation Summer InternshipThis past summer I decided it was time to give back to a world that I have taken so, so much from, and develop an internship program for my thriving new company. I have to say that this year was a huge success, and we here at <span style="font-style: italic;">The</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">JohnsoNation Corporation</span> are very excited to continue the program next summer. For all you potential new interns, here are excerpts from our last intern's journal to give you an idea of what our program is all about.<br />
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June 8, 2009<br />
<br />
Internship at <span style="font-style: italic;">The</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">JohnsoNation </span><span id="lw_1252202243_0" style="font-style: italic;">Corporation</span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>: Day 1<br />
<br />
Today I begin my internship with <span style="font-style: italic;">The</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">JohnsoNation Corporation</span>. Due to the fact that the office building was not yet prepared, my boss Mr. Johnson came and met me at the local <span id="lw_1252202243_1">Bob Evans</span>. There he gave me a quick run down of my responsibilities at the company. While shoveling hash browns in his mouth he informed me that my duties were to "follow my every word" and "keep your mouth shut."<br />
<br />
Although I am truly excited to be spending my summer learning the inner workings of the corporate system, I have to admit that some of the tasks Mr. Johnson bestowed upon me were quite perplexing. Duties such as note taking, dictation, and filing all made sense, but then he went on to say I should always have a wet suit handy, and to “never trust the gnome."<br />
<br />
I’m even more concerned about the dress code, which consists mostly of sweat bands and temporary tattoos. Hopefully these procedures will become more relevant and clear as I delve into my new position.<br />
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The meeting ended when Mr. Johnson excused himself to the restroom and never returned. I paid the bill, (which was supposed to be a business lunch) and left to prepare for the next day.<br />
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***</div>
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June 9, 2009<br />
<br />
The corporate office was not what I expected. The building was dilapidated at best, and had more rats than employees inside. Also, most of the employees seemed to be homeless people crudely dressed in shabby shirts and ties.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52DmrsFLfM-6TC8eNqRmK_y6kgrWvhi4H1hUXqUYGCPryGuzgHbQDB-I58J6s87RMrc4fk0i_qYMU1RYyBzqzvk3WEP63nOxPqP0NlWhWu7Hmiq2piBOoI1Z9yTfnwtAUy_rYaZoCYwo/s1600-h/word.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378170205203428706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52DmrsFLfM-6TC8eNqRmK_y6kgrWvhi4H1hUXqUYGCPryGuzgHbQDB-I58J6s87RMrc4fk0i_qYMU1RYyBzqzvk3WEP63nOxPqP0NlWhWu7Hmiq2piBOoI1Z9yTfnwtAUy_rYaZoCYwo/s320/word.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 259px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 210px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><pic homeless="" of="">Frank from accounting.</pic></span></div>
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<pic homeless="" of=""></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><br />
I went to Mr. Johnson’s office to talk about the working conditions, and was stopped by his secretary, someone who I suspected was a crack whore. Sitting on my lap and offering me services "for rocks" confirmed my suspicions.<br />
<br />
<crack pic="" whore="">When I was finally permitted to enter his office, (I had to pay her to leave me alone) I walked in only to find Mr. Johnson surrounded by mountains of papers, all with lists of <span id="lw_1252202243_2">social security numbers</span> and birthdates on them. He was frantically shredding them while deleting his hard drive. When I questioned him about the conditions of the building, he responded with “It’s got windows and a door doesn’t it?” I told him that while he was correct, the windows were all broken and the doors did not have knobs on them, and I was reasonably sure the building was covered in asbestos. His response was simply “Yeah, can’t get enough asbestos."<br />
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When I informed him that our fire escape was just a rope dangling from the roof to the ground, he told me to “Stop being a pussy.” Not wanting to lose the respect of my superior, I said nothing else. When I asked him what I should do for the remainder of the day, he told me to “Go file some shit," then opened up a bottle of scotch and started guzzling it, imbibing an unhealthy amount of alcohol.<br />
<br />
I’m starting to become very unsure of this internship.<br />
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</crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore="">***</crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><br />
June 19, 2009<br />
<br />
Today one of my co-workers asked me if I wanted to get in on the office betting pool. Being a big fan of basketball, and seeing this as a chance to fit in, I gave him my $50 dollar entry fee and he handed me a copy of the bracket. When I went back to my cubicle to review the bracket, I discovered some unusual team names; names such as "Swastika," the "<span id="lw_1252202243_3">Hungry Hobo</span>," the "Dumb Mail Room Boy," and the "Kidnapped Cheerleader."<br />
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Eventually I discovered that I had inadvertently joined an illegal gambling ring for death matches conducted in our office basement, which could accurately be described as a dungeon. When I tried to get my money back, my co-worker looked at me and said “What money?” while stroking an ice pick. I decided to fill out the bracket, recognizing that if I’m going to risk going to jail, I might as well try and make a profit.<br />
<br />
I don’t like what this internship is doing to my sense of morality.<br />
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</crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore="">***</crack></pic><br />
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June 23, 2009<br />
<br />
Today a man from the <span id="lw_1252202243_4">Better Business Bureau</span> came for an inspection. Mr. Johnson greeted him, ordered me to join them on the tour and to take notes the entire time. The Inspector made several negative comments during his visit, and even stopped at one point to vomit when he saw our bathroom facilities, or as Mr. Johnson has nick-named them, “Our little shitting holes” (this is actually more of a description than a nick name).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbEFPNE80dXLTChPQ-DL6K4pAm3XuuEpf4eZU2V18_IyehPhuTWIL76EssugrUFlxXXC8stcc9zyY-P08CEM4O0-JdBYyLfXiOgMtqmAsCKnE7UkV8dK1mMSOEl9k2BKtQNWjPQrVteU/s1600-h/word+3.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378172510053775362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbEFPNE80dXLTChPQ-DL6K4pAm3XuuEpf4eZU2V18_IyehPhuTWIL76EssugrUFlxXXC8stcc9zyY-P08CEM4O0-JdBYyLfXiOgMtqmAsCKnE7UkV8dK1mMSOEl9k2BKtQNWjPQrVteU/s320/word+3.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 283px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 193px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet="">To be perfectly honest, this is an improvement to what we had to endure.</horrible></crack></pic></span><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><br />
When we got to Mr. Johnson’s office he asked me to hand over my notes and told me to go to the store and buy a gallon of bleach. When I returned the Inspector was gone and Mr. Johnson was waiting for me with my notes in hand. He gave them to me and then demanded I sign off on them, even though they had been clearly tampered with. He had crossed out most of the facts and replaced them with a confusing story that implied the Inspector threatened to burn down the office, sexually assaulted several employees, and then ran out of the building screaming “I killed John Ben</horrible></crack></pic><span id="lw_1252202243_6" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;">é</span><pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet="">t Ramsey!"<br />
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When I refused to sign it, he replied “It’s fine, I have your signature on file anyway,” and then proceeded to dump the bleach all over his office floor. Afterward Mr. Johnson called in two of my co-workers and told them to execute “Maneuver Delta." The two co-workers then grabbed several heavy garbage bags and dragged them into a waiting <span id="lw_1252202243_7">Ford Taurus</span>. Mr. Johnson then began loading the car with cinder blocks, and asked me if I had my wet suit ready.<br />
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I do not expect to be back in time for my scheduled lunch break.<br />
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</horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet="">***</horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><br />
July 7, 2009<br />
<br />
Today I approached Mr. Johnson about a possible letter of recommendation. He was sitting in his office pantsless and trying to turn on his television with his iPod. When I asked him about the recommendation, he said only if I could “Answer me these questions three." He then went on to recite dialogue from <span id="lw_1252202243_8" style="font-style: italic;">Monty Python and the Holy Grail</span> for the next 45 minutes. Afterword he chastised me for not being up to the company’s dress policy, the guidelines for which have changed frequently since the day I started.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBrr58ZnyZwNScKpvri-1nHElds19Ir5EmJw71yaGbg2zRHjHhQhI3GiaeSIX-OM-Ia2-nD62-R2RZLiULtW5Zr_MIapKe8VKSGhwx2gNWhi4J179Y_zXMxWIy0ODADPhPd0zjvUJvcg/s1600-h/clown.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378171538681757602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBrr58ZnyZwNScKpvri-1nHElds19Ir5EmJw71yaGbg2zRHjHhQhI3GiaeSIX-OM-Ia2-nD62-R2RZLiULtW5Zr_MIapKe8VKSGhwx2gNWhi4J179Y_zXMxWIy0ODADPhPd0zjvUJvcg/s320/clown.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 258px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 191px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture="">Wednesdays</crazy></horrible></crack></pic></span><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><br />
When it was obvious that no real questions were going to be presented to me, I asked for the recommendation again. Mr. Johnson agreed to do so, only if I mixed him a drink. Upon inspection of the office I found neither drink mix nor alcohol of any kind. In fact, the only liquids in the room were generic cough syrup and half a bottle of glass cleaner. He told me to “Mix that shit” because he was “boning for a drink."<br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwowT8kfnWnkg5vchIMo1if7BNZNCHcXsZ2I06d3NBKGDAJaLWe-gcvbG6khPx1koLHvRzA8qan89D2EpXXKnVZHCxSRvdp5GKYLjKBlr3iZSgR5eGhmWSqLqZBivTarG07gcyLuMIPkE/s1600-h/word+2.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378171887933719890" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwowT8kfnWnkg5vchIMo1if7BNZNCHcXsZ2I06d3NBKGDAJaLWe-gcvbG6khPx1koLHvRzA8qan89D2EpXXKnVZHCxSRvdp5GKYLjKBlr3iZSgR5eGhmWSqLqZBivTarG07gcyLuMIPkE/s320/word+2.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 227px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 198px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">He calls this drink “the coma”</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic></span><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""><br />
After consuming a concoction that I’m sure was mostly poison, Mr. Johnson slapped me on the back, said “that’s how you do it queer,” and then passed out. I decided I really didn’t need the letter that badly and called poison control.<br />
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</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">***</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""><br />
July 23, 2009<br />
<br />
Today Mr. Johnson gave me a briefcase and told me to go to behind the building and “wait for the man in the suit." I stood in the back lot for close to three hours before a large unmarked van pulled up. The door slid open and two large men in ski masks emerged, carrying a gagged and blindfolded man. Another man in aviator sunglasses and a bright blue <span id="lw_1252202243_9">Armani suit</span> approached me and introduced himself as <a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-had-no-idea-i-had-editor.html">Mr. Hibbs</a>. He took the briefcase out of my hands and gave it to a small Cuban man he called Diego. He then patted my cheek, slipped a fifty dollar bill in my shirt pocket, and said “You didn’t see nothing."<br />
<br />
Later that day I heard an important official from City Hall had been kidnapped while he was in the bathroom. I considered calling the police, but then decided to microwave a hot pocket instead. This job has all but killed my empathy.<br />
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</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">***</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""><br />
Aug. 11, 2009<br />
<br />
I walked past Mr. Johnson’s office today and saw him and Mr. Hibbs fiercely arguing while waving guns in the air. I overheard Mr. Hibbs saying “What do you mean they won’t pay the ransom,” and Mr. Johnson shouting “Let’s just leave him in the dumpster behind the pre-school." I grew slightly concerned when they both stopped talking and stared directly at me. I grew even more concerned when they silently followed me around for the rest of the day, constantly invading my privacy by reading my emails and screening my calls.<br />
<br />
I feel very fortunate that tomorrow is my last day.<br />
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</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">***</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""><br />
Aug. 12, 2009<br />
<br />
Today I arrived at my scheduled time to find the office deserted. Sitting on my desk was a loaded gun and a note that said “Protect yourself.” I gripped the weapon in my hand as I searched for Mr. Johnson in his office, expecting the worst. The office was dark, so I anxiously searched for the desk lamp to provide some illumination. I pulled the lamp chord only to find the gagged and blindfolded man tied to a chair, his neck slit from ear to ear. I quickly reached for the phone and attempted to dial 911, but instead of a dial tone I heard only silence.<br />
<br />
Suddenly I heard the sound of helicopters outside, and muffled voices behind the office door. A tear gas can landed at my feet, and five armed police officers in full riot gear burst through the door. I raised my hands in the air, and was getting ready to explain myself when one of the officers screamed “He’s got a gun!” causing the rest to rush me and take me to the floor. I kept trying to explain the situation, but after they found the stacks of birth certificates and closet full of skeletons (literally, human skeletons), I decided it was probably best to just keep my mouth shut.<br />
<br />
Since then I have</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic> tried pleading my case many times, but it's been to no avail. Every once in a while, I look out the window bars of my cell at the ocean surrounding the prison. And, I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I think I see Mr. Johnson out there, staring at me, wearing his company issued wet suit<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">.<br />
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</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
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<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup="">***</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br />
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""></pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic><br /></div>
<pic homeless="" of=""><crack pic="" whore=""><horrible pic="" toilet=""><crazy clown="" picture=""><pic and="" cleaner="" cough="" glass="" of="" syrup=""><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">The JohnsoNation Corporation</span> is now taking applications for summer 2010 Internships! Please provide your social security number, a copy of your birth certificate, and an object with your finger prints on it. Positions are filling fast, so don’t delay, apply today!<br />
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</pic></crazy></horrible></crack></pic>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-9043131271102623732009-05-19T06:00:00.001+01:002010-01-26T03:34:23.623+00:00The “Superman” vs. The “Batman”: Which One Are You?Men are not hard to figure out. For some reason women want to pretend that we are these dreadfully intricate problems that are in desperate need of unraveling. The truth is that we are not that complex; in fact you can pretty much boil down men into two types. Throughout history mythological creatures have always been seen as a mirror of humanity. Icarus was a symbol for the over eagerness of youth. Achilles was a representation of men who appeared invincible, but were destroyed by their weaknesses. In this modern world you need not look any further than our own mythologies for what men are like in our era.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kzxQkMTap3sDiIup-drsx2MTf3loo_1j2NtDnDb6fFzbZinqe1RilppY2IEfQlvus14TPpdDGao2j174Ledggor_vsgUvm_-18Xwl-4Ee-I5aWlbY5g6u_oTAl4tHLKoUySKLreUui4/s1600-h/THE+SUPERMAN+VS+THE+BATMAN.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337666624778005234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kzxQkMTap3sDiIup-drsx2MTf3loo_1j2NtDnDb6fFzbZinqe1RilppY2IEfQlvus14TPpdDGao2j174Ledggor_vsgUvm_-18Xwl-4Ee-I5aWlbY5g6u_oTAl4tHLKoUySKLreUui4/s400/THE+SUPERMAN+VS+THE+BATMAN.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 315px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>The "Superman" and the "Batman"<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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When dissected and analyzed, all men will fall into one of these two categories. Some of their traits will overlap; some will share qualities of both. But, ultimately a man is one or the other...the question is which one are you?<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">The Superman</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_uCr0doCfV2bfnQ_TrsG988Ybkolp89Z36tgf7pjF9EQ6jo8STioxHwpRej13PvaNc-L5tJaSZUo6QuGk093oigj6jRf6KoCROktHWNSKKDBF6mikAQUxwojinh7FWmcc-j9zeNObxQ/s1600-h/Superman12.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332449562816292546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_uCr0doCfV2bfnQ_TrsG988Ybkolp89Z36tgf7pjF9EQ6jo8STioxHwpRej13PvaNc-L5tJaSZUo6QuGk093oigj6jRf6KoCROktHWNSKKDBF6mikAQUxwojinh7FWmcc-j9zeNObxQ/s320/Superman12.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 210px;" /></a>The “Superman” is the man who is a moral barometer. To him the world is in black and white...there is no gray. The "Superman” is very protective and is not braggadocios. He is they <span id="lw_1241557232_2">type of guy</span> that girls end up marrying. He is the knight in shining armor, the prince every girl has dreamed of. He's the man that will fly you through the atmosphere with a kiss, and will catch you when you fall. He is the hero...the boy scout...the man every girl can count on.<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Pros</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Loyalty</span>- When the “Superman” type of guy tells you that there is no one else but you he usually means it. He’s not the type of guy that is going to go behind your back. The “Superman” will go to the ends of the earth to make you happy, and will work hard to provide for you in a way that will make you comfortable. The “Superman” has a very “old school” out look on life, where he is the <span id="lw_1241557232_3">man of the house</span>, and must provide for it and protect it. If you have the heart of a “Superman” you’ll have it forever.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Humility</span>- Look at the relationship between Superman and Lois Lane; here you have a man who could have any woman he wants, but chooses Lois simply because he feels that HE is the one who is lucky to have her, and not the other way around. Humility is very important to the “Superman” type because he realizes that the world does not revolve around him. This does not mean that the “Superman” is not prone to bouts of egotism and self riotousness, but it does mean that he is easy to pull out of these dispositions.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Chivalry</span>- The "Superman" is the kind of guy that will lay his jacket on the ground to keep a girl from stepping in the mud. He is virtuous, honorable, and generally courteous to all women. You know that guy that always opens the car door for girls, even when they don’t ask or expect him to? That’s a trait of the “Superman”. Being chivalrous also contains virtues such as mercy, courage, valor, fairness, and protection of the weak and the poor. This also brings with it the idea of being willing to give one’s life for another’s; whether he would be giving his life for his greatest enemy or the woman he loves. Sounds a lot like a certain red <span id="lw_1241659885_1">caped man of steel</span>, doesn’t it?<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Sensitivity</span>- If you’re hurting then he is hurting. The “Superman” will empathize with every little pain you are going through. Whether you’re the woman he loves, or his best buddy, the “Superman” will help burden your pain. He will also be open and candid with you about HIS feelings. Ladies, if it doesn’t take much for you to get your guy to tell you how he’s feeling then you probably have a <span id="lw_1241659885_2" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border-bottom: medium none; cursor: pointer;">native son</span> of the planet Krypton on your hands. The good news is, with a “Superman” you are always going to be his top priority…<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Cons</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Sensitivity</span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrKcGzEEExp9m3GRzbzJnE0dLzsFEjo3o2tSE3ojQ5X6OM2-5mUlJlPED1jAXjQUH2U3yB_6hoia5hlhq3YBqAuzgnW_sb7TdrpjAqY0VLh5CAI__az_tOsHmtM9mYy-gajQvcIaUjeY/s1600-h/Cry.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337721609491004130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrKcGzEEExp9m3GRzbzJnE0dLzsFEjo3o2tSE3ojQ5X6OM2-5mUlJlPED1jAXjQUH2U3yB_6hoia5hlhq3YBqAuzgnW_sb7TdrpjAqY0VLh5CAI__az_tOsHmtM9mYy-gajQvcIaUjeY/s400/Cry.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 282px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
…The bad news is, with a “Superman” you are always going to be his top priority. This is a double edged sword, because while it’s a good thing to be sensitive to others and their needs, it’s a bad thing to be overly sensitive. There is nothing worse than a guy who is always talking about his problems, is overly clingy, and is constantly in need of affection. This is also known as an “Emo Complex”. Some will argue that Batman is a better example of being emo, but the evidence clearly points to the Man of Tomorrow. Need proof? Watch <span style="font-style: italic;">Superman Returns</span> and try to tell me he wasn’t two steps away from picking up a guitar and writing break up songs about Lois. These types of guys are also likely to cry before the woman is in an argument, especially if he feels the relationship is in danger. Tears are a “Superman’s” favorite tool, and can often lead to the woman feeling like she has the bigger pair in the relationship.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Passiveness</span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAaMckocfC2ci6aQYnVKy0PZrDjP4mAl9YtH8ACo2eOGn_uXTJt1gd_VZrODj22s0SJ4ysZdg3Zy31rqA_w4ci3MSmRRe6ZvSuTZq0XP3OvmDT6SkCPRElLIMnR-NXB-hhs2memmuagQE/s1600-h/Passive+Agressive.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337721768564394226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAaMckocfC2ci6aQYnVKy0PZrDjP4mAl9YtH8ACo2eOGn_uXTJt1gd_VZrODj22s0SJ4ysZdg3Zy31rqA_w4ci3MSmRRe6ZvSuTZq0XP3OvmDT6SkCPRElLIMnR-NXB-hhs2memmuagQE/s400/Passive+Agressive.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 395px;" /></a>Can you pretty much get your guy to do whatever you want just by being mad at him? Does he do whatever he can to avoid arguments with you, admitting he's wrong even when he is clearly right? Does he tell you what you want to hear as apposed to what you need to hear? That, ladies and gentlemen, is a Super-passive-Man. The “Superman” doesn’t care how a problem is solved, he just wants things to be okay between the two of you. For you ladies who like to have a guy you can walk all over, this is the guy for you. The "Superman" will avoid confrontation unless it is absolutely necessary, and even then he'll act like kind of a pussy.<br />
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The biggest problem with a passive guy is that not only will he not stick up for himself, he will let you get away with anything, even if it brings you harm. So he might be a knight who barrels in to save you from a criminal trying to rob you of your womanhood, but he'll tuck his tail and run the first time you scold him for insinuating to know whats best for you.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lack of Excitement</span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bcaSY0_Xcx9vt0UDBDSehfDkZOh_Yc_koBgbePlBhgGzjVA5LJ2tb7FtWCnzvoBfzsm71BPwCtMirZK49Raj-CP-35ZzFofwveAhMH195pmz0ggjVrbjB-ugWmrkHK2w25eadrLjeH8/s1600-h/boring.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337721927183725490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bcaSY0_Xcx9vt0UDBDSehfDkZOh_Yc_koBgbePlBhgGzjVA5LJ2tb7FtWCnzvoBfzsm71BPwCtMirZK49Raj-CP-35ZzFofwveAhMH195pmz0ggjVrbjB-ugWmrkHK2w25eadrLjeH8/s400/boring.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 321px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 361px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>The idea of the "Superman" is woman find him safe and are secure with him. Safety and security are two very boring things. The "Superman" starts off exciting and fun, but that's because you're getting to know him. Eventually checking out his stamp collection and watching G rated movies every weekend tends to run its course, and you'll desire something a little more thrilling. It all has to do with the safety issue; "Superman" does not want to put you in harms way, and he is obsessed with making sure your every need is accounted for. Every need that is except for your need to get the hell out of the dull as hell rut you are in.<br />
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Once you get to know everything there is to know about you're "Superman" (and you will because of his "sensitivity" and "openness") consider yourself done. There will be no more excitement, no more thrills. Just you and him, sitting on the couch while he reads the paper, and you sit there pretending to sew, but are really wondering why the hell you've spent all these years with a man as exciting as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curling">Curling</a>. If you want some excitement, try throwing yourself off the roof to see if the "Superman" will catch you. Spoiler alert: HE WON'T.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Homebody/Mama’s Boy</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDZvmYo4GBsylcopEk0EREuaPNw_E16v-Qldo-mpv7t1QbTGEnkC52iwLuwNo5PPUC1MWMhvEyFLFazWZfx2pwgoMs98fMd2zLgtQuuyZrveRNQAAThZHOw1MWQO_A34pumDfaXCD1e8/s1600-h/homebody.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337722125627640930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDZvmYo4GBsylcopEk0EREuaPNw_E16v-Qldo-mpv7t1QbTGEnkC52iwLuwNo5PPUC1MWMhvEyFLFazWZfx2pwgoMs98fMd2zLgtQuuyZrveRNQAAThZHOw1MWQO_A34pumDfaXCD1e8/s400/homebody.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 310px;" /></a>The "Superman" really does love his girlfriend/fiance/wife with all his heart...he just loves his mother a tiny bit more. The "Superman" still feels a strong, excessive connection<span id="lw_1241659885_5" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span id="lw_1241659885_5">with the woman who brought him into this world, and if you try to get between them than may the Lord pity you.</span><span id="lw_1241659885_5" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span id="lw_1241659885_5">You see, the "Superman" can put up with a lot from a woman. He'll take you yelling at him like a little boy in public, he'll let you take him shopping and pick out his cloths, and he'll let you </span><span id="lw_1241659885_5">remind him to do every simple task in his life, because those are things his mother always did for him. In all reality the "Superman" will not date a woman unless she can fill the "nurturing" role that his mother did his entire life. The "Superman" likes having his significant other treat him like a child because he still feels that attachment to his mother, but you will never be able to fill her void.<br />
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Also the "Superman" is the kind of guy who has the desire to settle down in his hometown, never really feeling a need to live anywhere else. This is fine if you want to stay close to home, but an adventurous woman is going to have serious issues with a guy that can't really commit to growing up. Oh, and don't say anything bad about his mother, or he'll bring down the wrath of Krypton on your ass.<br />
</span><span id="lw_1241659885_5" style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbgh10xYRZGAG6aZhQablwwzBDyH9R4mEnbKjJHu1uh0Sf13yLWYs5Ulm3sGNqxO0OTLtxb5djNduKgJZEoskP0j857fUdIQBuaMOhlCumxpMUlwz3eBBbtcmucDjfriS1NYZ-sNr7GE/s1600-h/Batman+655.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337666196695901586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbgh10xYRZGAG6aZhQablwwzBDyH9R4mEnbKjJHu1uh0Sf13yLWYs5Ulm3sGNqxO0OTLtxb5djNduKgJZEoskP0j857fUdIQBuaMOhlCumxpMUlwz3eBBbtcmucDjfriS1NYZ-sNr7GE/s320/Batman+655.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 221px;" /></a><span id="lw_1241659885_5" style="font-weight: bold;">The Batman</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />
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</span>The “Batman” is the man who lives in the gray area of life. The "Batman" is confident and strong-willed. He is does not like playing games, and gets to the bottom of every situation with style and class. He is exciting, creative, spontaneous, outgoing, and he always keeps you on your toes. The Batman is the guy a girl will have a fling with one crazy weekend in Hawaii. The "Batman" is a mystery, even to himself, making him even more irresistible.<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Pros</span> <span id="lw_1241659885_6" style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
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Assertiveness</span><span id="lw_1241659885_6">-</span> The "Batman" isn't going to put up with your shit. If you do something he doesn't like he's going to let you know about it. With the "Batman" passiveness is not and option. If he thinks you're doing something stupid that could possibly cause you or someone else harm, he's going to try and put a stop to it. Do not confuse this with someone who is controlling. The "Batman" does not want to control you, but he wants you to have some sense. Also the "Batman" will take offensive when dealing with issues. If he is in an argument with someone, he won't back down until it is resolved. The phrase "never go to bed angry" must have been coined by a "Batman" type, because his determination will not allow for unresolved conflict to continue. His assertiveness transcends relationships. The "Batman" is assertive in every aspect of his life. If something needs to get done, you can be sure he'll do it. Reliability is something the "Batman" has in spades, and it's all thanks to an assertive personality.<br />
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Ready for Anything</span>- <span id="lw_1241659885_7">The "Batman" is a man who thinks ahead. He does not take care of problems as they come, he prepares for every eventuality with precision. The "Batman" is a foreword thinker, and that is good to have with someone you are planning your life with. You don't need to tell the "Batman" to do things, because chances are he's already thought of them and completed the task. His ability to look ahead also is an attribute when planning financially. The "Batman" is not the type to frivolously spend money. Every cent is accounted for when planning the most minuet task. Whether it be making a down payment on a house, or planning a weekend getaway to New York, the "Batman" will be financially, and mentally prepared for every eventuality.<br />
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Dedication</span>-The "Batman" tries to make the best of every situation, and that takes dedication. If the two of you are having problems, the "Batman" will not turn tail and run away, he will try to work things out. And, if you are facing some huge problem and need support, the "Batman" is there by your side, ready to take whatever problem you have together. The "Batman" will show complete dedication to you, and everything you care about. If its something that really matters to you, than the "Batman" will see it through to the end.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Excitement</span>-Mystery is exciting, and the "Batman" is as mysterious as they come. He has an air of curiosity that surrounds him making women want to discover what makes him tick. He does not reveal himself, it takes some digging, and that is part of the excitement. It's true that men love to chase women, but equally women love to discover who a man really is. The "Batman" is also a guy who always has something going on. Whether he's made a weekend trip to Las Vegas or is just having a bonfire party with some friends, the "Batman" has always planning his next event. The "Batman" doesn't like staying in one place for very long, and is always looking for some new adventure.<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Cons</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bouts of Weirdness/Insanity</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPMAhUw6256bGefNAoKJwoq40nbElFrt40YtTrd71R0IlfulSqi48pgQ1IHFJUeFHMrrFbwxXzWY3LCZejHrMPoh0GaJDVLZ1khtQrLzlc2Pqd2jJfgeArTu1bmd6Pn5yem1x6Rz9XJY/s1600-h/Crazy+Bat.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337722302783109042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPMAhUw6256bGefNAoKJwoq40nbElFrt40YtTrd71R0IlfulSqi48pgQ1IHFJUeFHMrrFbwxXzWY3LCZejHrMPoh0GaJDVLZ1khtQrLzlc2Pqd2jJfgeArTu1bmd6Pn5yem1x6Rz9XJY/s400/Crazy+Bat.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 273px;" /></a>One reason the "Batman" might be so exciting is because he isn't completely right in the head. I'm not insinuating that this type is completely bonkers, they just see the world a little differently than most people do. The "Batman" is a collector of many things, some that can be even considered obscure...like empty Pepsi cans, or flashlights. The "Batman" is also prone to spouting out random comments. For example;<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Guy 1</span>: Hey did you guys see Ted drop that pass?<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Guy 2</span>: Yeah, he's a real butter fingers!<br />
"<span style="font-weight: bold;">Batman</span>": If I could travel through time, I'd punch Mark Twain right in the balls.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Guy 1 & 2</span>: (silence)<br />
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Some "Batman" types will keep a journal, but be warned; if you read the "Batman's" journal, you are likely to get freaked out a bit. These are his private thoughts that he does not want to share with anyone. If the things he lets out of his mouth are considered "weird" than imagine what he doesn't say. Best to just put the journal down, and go watch <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hellraiser"><span style="font-style: italic;">Hellraiser</span></a>, which I can guarantee won't be nearly as creepy and disturbing.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mommy/Daddy Issues</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iwvNnfcRCUjQ6Fsvxaen0QMeDk1V3BYsCTbd-F2kApsaFY00qnRR-ok-OpUhnG6_GsLqnBd5dYVSwJvTWgjJBDp96CzXP1e9EiT0bdBI-my__ncJOJk-pKC8rZxdkbyaPNtnzqAU5is/s1600-h/Bat+Slap%21.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337722546146668514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iwvNnfcRCUjQ6Fsvxaen0QMeDk1V3BYsCTbd-F2kApsaFY00qnRR-ok-OpUhnG6_GsLqnBd5dYVSwJvTWgjJBDp96CzXP1e9EiT0bdBI-my__ncJOJk-pKC8rZxdkbyaPNtnzqAU5is/s400/Bat+Slap%21.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 352px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
</div>Unlike the "Superman" type the only feelings the "Batman" has for his parents is contempt. He does not hate them, but he is much happier living his life without their involvement. Most likely he holds some sort of resentment for them due to the way they raised him. The "Batman" tends to mimic his parents bad habits, despite his best attempts not to. This becomes and issue when the "Batman" becomes a father himself. It is not guaranteed that he will be a bad father, but he is likely to be the kind of dad a son grows up resenting. If his dad pushed him into sports, he will push his son into sports. If his dad was emotionally distant, he will be emotionally distant.<br />
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Also, the "Batman" does not like to talk about his childhood. Whether it be due to being abused as a child, or maybe mom just didn't hug him enough...the "Batman" will avoid all discussion about how things were for him as a child, which is a great lead in to my next point...<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lack of Communication</span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tH7vZiGR_rIKolVHYNOo_SUCTkBYkkxHqaEwQI20_kV_jDs_pzB86NBGFsDqxvj39Ds_kS-JRQ40rh_ta2gTqneYZSf3dgBmr2ZvU51yfBUDDEsykn17VgkhwiNcsw6fB6jZBAU8THI/s1600-h/lack+of+communication.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337722878295456962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tH7vZiGR_rIKolVHYNOo_SUCTkBYkkxHqaEwQI20_kV_jDs_pzB86NBGFsDqxvj39Ds_kS-JRQ40rh_ta2gTqneYZSf3dgBmr2ZvU51yfBUDDEsykn17VgkhwiNcsw6fB6jZBAU8THI/s400/lack+of+communication.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 331px;" /></a><br />
The "Batman" does not like to discuss how he feels about things. If he feels the need to discuss a feeling he has, he will come to you and discuss it with you. What he hates more than sharing his feelings is being ASKED to share his feelings. Sometimes it is due to a "macho man" complex, a belief that men are not supposed to discuss their emotions. Sometimes its just because he is introverted and needs to assess his feelings before discussing them. But, this becomes and issue for most women who LOVE to talk about their feelings, and want their man to do the same.<br />
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It is important for couples to talk about things. When couples don't talk about their feelings it creates distance, and can drive a wedge between even the strongest couple. A lack of communication can lead to a lot of problems, such as sexual frustration, petty arguments, infidelity, and even divorce. With the "Batman" a woman will have to constantly be fighting to get him to open up, and even if he does it will only be temporary.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Obsession</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOloLubf5k4VliWgUp2jux2gA4s4uMghhqnM40Y1k5t0k0-8l4RTLd4I8m1ds_02aB8QWO9hR3FjvYHD2Jzks3maooZXe6KmJivRtLzP2yjlMQFVnCmHnl0EDiTzPTEKlW3xsyIgAuFc/s1600-h/Obsessed.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337723156093538370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOloLubf5k4VliWgUp2jux2gA4s4uMghhqnM40Y1k5t0k0-8l4RTLd4I8m1ds_02aB8QWO9hR3FjvYHD2Jzks3maooZXe6KmJivRtLzP2yjlMQFVnCmHnl0EDiTzPTEKlW3xsyIgAuFc/s400/Obsessed.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 234px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(Editor's Note: If you are having problems viewing the picture above, just click on it to see a larger image.)<br />
<br />
</span>Remember when I said the "Batman" was reliable, and assertive? Those attributes exist because of obsession. The "Batman" cannot let anything go. Yes, he does follow through with things, and yes he does get them done, but at what cost? Everyone knows that guy who can't relax. He's always has some problem to solve, or some project to attend to. He makes more time for his hobbies than the people in his life.<br />
<br />
The obsession can be almost anything. It could be fantasy football, or playing video games. Sometimes the obsession can be your relationship, and he is constantly trying to make repairs where none are necessary. The "Batman" will try to find problems that you two are having or could potentially have, simply because he cannot stop himself from trying to fix things. It is how he identifies himself, how he feels useful. The "Batman's" obsessions are his life, an they can lead to long term problems for a couple. Whether it be the woman feels like she isn't a priority (because she isn't) or because she feels like he's smothering her with his paranoia, it can drive any woman out of her mind. The only comfort is that it's not because of you, it's because he's a nut job with a screwy perception of life.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
***<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Most men are not going to fit into these roles perfectly. They are more likely to have traits from both types, making you think you have a "Super-Bat Man" on your hands. While it is true that you could have a dedicated, passive, chivalrous, and possibly insane man on your hands, ultimately either the "Superman" or the "Batman" personality type will be dominate. I hope I have provided some insight for the women of the world on what kind of man you are, and to the men I say this; whether you be a "Superman" or a "Batman" remember one thing...<br />
<br />
It is never okay to wear your pajamas outside. I don't care how "cool" you think you look in a cape, it's not as manly as you think. Don't believe me?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeYj-1xzgOMd02yBYphXdhziWfAohb2PXzbTqJemo5pO3ahA7zOKEoShnsfhu4H1KKzd1OUYtxd9CVtbNhAki2o5kv2U_8syZVATCVWaORYzlgvXCQiXt3P72IcbbiR6m4NQ4WhEA1fw/s1600-h/batcostume.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337719390478581842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeYj-1xzgOMd02yBYphXdhziWfAohb2PXzbTqJemo5pO3ahA7zOKEoShnsfhu4H1KKzd1OUYtxd9CVtbNhAki2o5kv2U_8syZVATCVWaORYzlgvXCQiXt3P72IcbbiR6m4NQ4WhEA1fw/s400/batcostume.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 371px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
I rest my case.<br />
</div></div></div>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-87452275762588240712009-05-13T22:23:00.001+01:002010-01-26T03:34:43.363+00:00Lets Be Friends, Josh Jenkins<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzYYW6oo6EeF5TGt_4I1vJ7dl1dGdsD7sf7uy2D__kJ9C8nt-53MfBjeEse-0QnJRJq62oyeI5Wt2Rq3kGoOjBVwspgsU1Xk7bxsTcHEKzhtUpf0rygXbudTj2_yfZgN-IMc8VGLE8NI/s1600-h/Josh+Jenkins.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335426501687787682" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzYYW6oo6EeF5TGt_4I1vJ7dl1dGdsD7sf7uy2D__kJ9C8nt-53MfBjeEse-0QnJRJq62oyeI5Wt2Rq3kGoOjBVwspgsU1Xk7bxsTcHEKzhtUpf0rygXbudTj2_yfZgN-IMc8VGLE8NI/s320/Josh+Jenkins.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /></a>Lets be friends, Josh Jenkins.<br />
<br />
Actually, I’ll do you one better…let’s be BEST FRIENDS. I know what you’re going to say;<br />
<br />
“Johnson, we are already friends. Please stop crying dude, its pathetic.”<br />
<br />
I say nay. We are not friends Josh Jenkins. We are acquaintances… buddies at best. We have only hung out a few times and our communication has been fairly limited. Truth is Josh Jenkins it escapes me why we have not hung out more. We both are close with my <a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-had-no-idea-i-had-editor.html">editor Robert Hibbs</a> and we both attend <span id="lw_1242249742_0">Alicia Keyes</span> concerts whenever she comes within a 200 mile radius of <span id="lw_1242249742_1">Pittsburgh</span>. I see you at the concerts man, don’t try to deny it. The fact that we have not openly discussed this common love and attended concerts together is just ridiculous.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
I have to admit to you Josh Jenkins that I don’t have very many friends. I have many acquaintances yes, but recently I have discovered that most people don’t really like me that much. Actually that’s not true…I think the words “despise” and “hate” are more accurate description of how people feel about me. The few people that do want to be my friends are usually<a href="http://thejohnsonation.blogspot.com/2009/03/recent-email-from-michael-cera.html"> very annoying</a>, and I could do without their influence dragging me down. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t have very many “cool” friends. I plan on modifying this with the inclusion of you into my friendship stable.<br />
<br />
We have so much in common Josh Jenkins that it would be considered morally reprehensible if we did not become best friends. We both take pleasure in a good steam bath, we enjoy karaoke jam sessions (or as I call it, “Oke Out with my Wang Out”) and we both have a genuine admiration for the Klingon Culture.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElVdOPMSFkCyQs4peRFtqav5kVc9ZP8t0GRCPINKK75OhgDVkRcDXb19p6clBjylAIgtTJj-1ZBbH2pR0IFW0RpJNzK4xJO8glgi6F7at_nys2ZPJsFOzTxQKyZ6cxQLx1IwEMZUrK7Y/s1600-h/klingonnotkillfood.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335426610960883618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElVdOPMSFkCyQs4peRFtqav5kVc9ZP8t0GRCPINKK75OhgDVkRcDXb19p6clBjylAIgtTJj-1ZBbH2pR0IFW0RpJNzK4xJO8glgi6F7at_nys2ZPJsFOzTxQKyZ6cxQLx1IwEMZUrK7Y/s320/klingonnotkillfood.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 290px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><klingon picture=""><br />
Also, we both enjoy writing and making comedic videos. I have to admit that your in-depth research into <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/82e1e0ed7e/mark-twains-final-writings-from-josh-and-the-robs"><span id="lw_1242249742_2" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;">Mark Twain</span>’s</a> unpublished writings made me laugh so hard I soiled myself in public. I think if we combined our talents we could become the best comedy duo since Simon and Garfunkel. With your natural charisma and school boy good looks, and my talent for writing and willingness to “do what needs to be done” to get ahead, our stars will rise faster than Jorge García’s cholesterol.<br />
<br />
</klingon><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2KzW-9hFQFLil5EZn7d4b0ZQY08XBofijTxRa46OO8Vz8oBLTb5nbIf_UhB5nbHgN4_3X3YJ2awxQvuxdf63cR21Pa6yuxA61rUfUZpB9sdXfcbbo3DavRBoqL6hXU-x2XfoBVS5Htk/s1600-h/Hurleylost.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335426898249500450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2KzW-9hFQFLil5EZn7d4b0ZQY08XBofijTxRa46OO8Vz8oBLTb5nbIf_UhB5nbHgN4_3X3YJ2awxQvuxdf63cR21Pa6yuxA61rUfUZpB9sdXfcbbo3DavRBoqL6hXU-x2XfoBVS5Htk/s320/Hurleylost.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 205px;" /></a><br />
<klingon picture=""><hurley picture="">The reason I think people don’t like me is pure resentment over the fact that I’m so awesome. My wife claims that the reason people don’t like me is because I “tend to live in a fantasy world where I think I am awesome.” We both know she’s full of shit, due to her lack of awesomeness and inability to understand awesomeness. In any case I know it wouldn’t be a problem for you, because you and I share the same attributes that make me so awesome in the first place. Our common factors are what will take us from “casual acquaintances” to “super bitchin' best friends”.<br />
<br />
I must also mention that friendship with me comes with many perks:<br />
<br />
</hurley></klingon><br />
<ul><li>I will protect you from animal attacks (except bears and sharks).</li>
<li>I have a tendency to break into song and dance, often creating a musical number with any professional dancers that happen to be in the near vicinity.</li>
<li>I will protect you from <span id="lw_1242249742_4">Tyler Perry</span>, and his movies.</li>
<li>I’ll stop throwing eggs at you from a distance as you walk to class.</li>
</ul>What? You don’t think this is enough for us to be SBBF’s? Well I went out and got a signed letter from the man you admire most, where he proclaims that you and I should be super bitchin' best friends forever.<br />
<br />
<shatner letter=""></shatner><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi41QgmSNyngvMHTza_aSaDkCEj6prp-TxXQDHTTSgUVR3ggRbn49xdyURVeVgunedMievkvbrlFQwEg3Gv9c9lvodcUb8Odn3PWPN7R7UrXsbsnkyUQbStbyK53k1rDo5ZBEbN5rIxuos/s1600-h/william_shatner.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335427225416690802" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi41QgmSNyngvMHTza_aSaDkCEj6prp-TxXQDHTTSgUVR3ggRbn49xdyURVeVgunedMievkvbrlFQwEg3Gv9c9lvodcUb8Odn3PWPN7R7UrXsbsnkyUQbStbyK53k1rDo5ZBEbN5rIxuos/s400/william_shatner.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 353px;" /></a><br />
<klingon picture=""><hurley picture=""><shatner letter=""><br />
Consider that the “ace up my sleeve”. And, by “ace up my sleeve” I actually mean “Shatner in my basement with a gun pointed at his head”.<br />
<br />
So come on, let’s quit dickin’ around like a couple of dicks on dick vacation and be super bitchin' best friends forever. After we sign the SBBFF contracts...you know dot the i’s and cross the t’s...we can go out and I’ll treat you to buying me ice cream. I like cookie dough and vanilla, and after you sign the “friendship indenture” it will be your favorite too.<br />
<br />
Oh, and by the way don’t worry about breaking the news to Owens. I told him you won’t be BFF’s with him any more. He took it pretty well.<br />
<br />
<owens pic=""></owens></shatner></hurley></klingon><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeXxeNXsjPhQTs13kirkYnXJ2W6MhyphenhypheniqJLaWr17SRr__aXw5DO1vfTLH-VCUJrApdSkfZuXn0gyVFMofAXBtcyjhC5oqTraUxk7bCXfPe7IG6T3wLrfUB3DrpHUKD0cuoqPEbdtdPgVk/s1600-h/n560808274_103942_8327.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335427374757811026" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeXxeNXsjPhQTs13kirkYnXJ2W6MhyphenhypheniqJLaWr17SRr__aXw5DO1vfTLH-VCUJrApdSkfZuXn0gyVFMofAXBtcyjhC5oqTraUxk7bCXfPe7IG6T3wLrfUB3DrpHUKD0cuoqPEbdtdPgVk/s320/n560808274_103942_8327.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 221px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<klingon picture=""><hurley picture=""><shatner letter=""><owens pic="">If you don’t see him for a while, it’s because he went on vacation…with his grandma….to Utah. And, as you know, they do not allow phones there. Probably best just to forget him.<br />
</owens></shatner></hurley></klingon>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-52722926328224108812009-05-07T22:39:00.001+01:002019-05-02T16:23:23.858+01:00Unopened Letters to the World<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSS_VMmAmqwL6q8Pq8Vk_fhfwbRl_niM65JqOwFsae8SFxuacA2rRp_2rYn4vmlGlpjvrwT8cKYZBGnZgOG-1PdDdq57IStiZq7jG1H8ty6buDuVpvBYP0dgnW4wsY9AKhiN6U0xd6Gk/s1600-h/35955_NonHome_Feature_WritingResignation.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333207260725293986" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSS_VMmAmqwL6q8Pq8Vk_fhfwbRl_niM65JqOwFsae8SFxuacA2rRp_2rYn4vmlGlpjvrwT8cKYZBGnZgOG-1PdDdq57IStiZq7jG1H8ty6buDuVpvBYP0dgnW4wsY9AKhiN6U0xd6Gk/s320/35955_NonHome_Feature_WritingResignation.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 180px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 320px;" /></a>Have you ever gotten really mad at someone? So angry that you just had to get it out before it over took you and sent you on a gun toting killing spree? Well I feel that way very often. But, instead of grabbing a silenced AK47 and capping people <span style="font-style: italic;">Grand Theft Auto</span> style, I decided it was probably better to just put my frustrations down on paper. I had always heard that writing a letter and not sending it was very therapeutic, and I have to say that after writing at least a dozen a day, it sure does keep those murderous rages in check.<br />
<br />
Today I decided to share with you all some of those unsent letters in hopes that it can inspire you to take out your aggression in words instead of fisticuffs. And, to those of you who these letters are about, I am sorry my feelings toward you had to get like this, but lets be honest...this has been a long time coming.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqYaFQgFimnuW9S44lQnBF6rVThMnyGRM1Js9MLngmLEBj60-0zd7jX-zKt9RWL2Jy2f65G3RNJcsVGMGjit7vIrh6I9tlSBhWEyCkgHbeBsWhd5O3zzsTS6zbZFlMQ6yGOKsD5Kj97k/s1600-h/20071012185334329.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333214059793907218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqYaFQgFimnuW9S44lQnBF6rVThMnyGRM1Js9MLngmLEBj60-0zd7jX-zKt9RWL2Jy2f65G3RNJcsVGMGjit7vIrh6I9tlSBhWEyCkgHbeBsWhd5O3zzsTS6zbZFlMQ6yGOKsD5Kj97k/s200/20071012185334329.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Fax Machine at work,<br />
<br />
I’m getting really sick of your crap. Day in and day out you find new ways to piss me off. I don’t know when you and the paper shredder decided to switch prime directives, but I assure you I have had enough of it. If you continue to shred every piece of paper I try to fax, I will go <span style="font-style: italic;">Office Space</span> on your ass.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew Johnson Esq.<br />
<br />
P.S. Please let the shredder know that I am tired of having to personally cut up every document I try to send through it. I don’t know if it’s jammed or having a good laugh at my expense, but please remember that I have appendages, and I’ll throw you both out the damn window.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmff-GDgvnQIQSDDtgO-E4Kku2N3JmVWP-9bOJskPi_ixmMKaHDXAJlklr4hMdEAyGbxeiKFXsbh_U1r6TUM6MqD9j2WYV_zgAO4ozGrYZP7wEdRHuJFOi1HaoTsVRpre0NPN7dClMHY/s1600-h/twilight_book_cover.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333212261980389394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmff-GDgvnQIQSDDtgO-E4Kku2N3JmVWP-9bOJskPi_ixmMKaHDXAJlklr4hMdEAyGbxeiKFXsbh_U1r6TUM6MqD9j2WYV_zgAO4ozGrYZP7wEdRHuJFOi1HaoTsVRpre0NPN7dClMHY/s200/twilight_book_cover.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 134px;" /></a>Dear <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span>,<br />
<br />
I don’t understand why you are popular. I’m more interesting than you, why aren’t I popular?<br />
<br />
Is it because I don’t sparkle?<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
<span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241732315_1">Vampire Hunter Johnson</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXk_TEwuqCtzf35Jk8U0803_pnJ_KNzviV1-MXiXgAYSnuks1FMzXGR-8bNihdOUS1bX_ZTtFRW1P28zGCJ62dhyphenhyphen9sPe4vdhyphenhyphen0Ukdn5BaQzvHacj7XfGEiFAOW5J9MviMfDhN15t740A/s1600-h/ambience-umbrella.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333213884808948306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXk_TEwuqCtzf35Jk8U0803_pnJ_KNzviV1-MXiXgAYSnuks1FMzXGR-8bNihdOUS1bX_ZTtFRW1P28zGCJ62dhyphenhyphen9sPe4vdhyphenhyphen0Ukdn5BaQzvHacj7XfGEiFAOW5J9MviMfDhN15t740A/s200/ambience-umbrella.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 195px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear random April weather,<br />
<br />
Make up your freaking mind already. Snow in April is completely unnecessary, not to mention a tad inappropriate. Get your shit together.<br />
<br />
If you’re having a hard time and need to talk to someone, please…do not call me.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241732315_2" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;"><br /></span>Andrew Johnson, Meteorologist to the Stars<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCIjJuDfRHXpN31btb45eMMwgWiJZk76Q8TQK8TY7IVeHHyRAJf-bGy7bnMYBQXmEv3YsL5e7DhbZpDE0XBma4_T9fvxx-fvp7uIkbvPEw6dC5aJLaZc5msglV9ehccqUE-xvE5vvGQ_k/s1600-h/1196149167239.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333213388920535730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCIjJuDfRHXpN31btb45eMMwgWiJZk76Q8TQK8TY7IVeHHyRAJf-bGy7bnMYBQXmEv3YsL5e7DhbZpDE0XBma4_T9fvxx-fvp7uIkbvPEw6dC5aJLaZc5msglV9ehccqUE-xvE5vvGQ_k/s320/1196149167239.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 201px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 252px;" /></a>Dear Guys Who Pop Their Collars,<br />
<br />
You look like tool bags. When someone pops their collar they are basically screaming "Hey look how big of a douche bag I am!"<br />
<br />
What is worse is the multiple pop collared guy. Why are you wearing that many shirts? Are you cold? Or do you just want to show the world that you are more of a douche bag than all the other pop collar douche bags?<br />
<br />
Please stop popping your collars. Women are not impressed.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew “No Pop Zone” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQPakqrhyphenhyphensCCmwdTNLuSUnDiwahX5yux52eeERAChgCBkUQRhng2eCW-oxyTd_6o5f0mYjTfTrjmZ7WZc8Vn7gMK5UWoAljpTnvfyx-YLHzRRZ9zwCBM_Nl70nWPTR5FFBDlw49Ry7Ag/s1600-h/untied-shoe.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333210500604452450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQPakqrhyphenhyphensCCmwdTNLuSUnDiwahX5yux52eeERAChgCBkUQRhng2eCW-oxyTd_6o5f0mYjTfTrjmZ7WZc8Vn7gMK5UWoAljpTnvfyx-YLHzRRZ9zwCBM_Nl70nWPTR5FFBDlw49Ry7Ag/s200/untied-shoe.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 149px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Shoelaces,<br />
<br />
I did not tie you today because I wanted to let you experience the thrills of freedom. Unfortunately you used this as an excuse to be careless, causing me trip and fall down in front of everyone while I waited in line at Wendy’s. I don’t know if it was just that you got sloppy, or if you have some pent up resentment toward me, but this will be the last time you experience the cathartic feeling of blowing in the wind.<br />
<br />
You did this to yourself. From now on you will be double knotted.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
“Shoe Dictator” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s1600-h/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333210083500015250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s200/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 141px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Mouse who frequents my pantry,<br />
<br />
I have tolerated your presence for far too long. You are not a welcomed guest in my home, and from this point on you will be treated with maximum hostility. If you continue to poop in my kitchen, I will buy a cat for the sole purpose of ending your miserable life. I would still like to end this conflict peacefully, but my patience is wearing thin.<br />
<br />
I’m giving you 24 hours to vacate the premises. My wife has already bought traps, but I think I can keep her at bay for a little while longer. Get the hell out, or things are going to get ugly.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew Johnson, Mousketeer #765<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCf1A10OSPLq6gsnpfEBALFhD6_edgFE-pJ7kPm5xlvny_7Wrq_fNAmBmmqdXl3T_fY2M0k2bmbfP5c8-F5QxwitgpFDg_ebBaM_knTelR1kLIt3zWNKq3QkhfFsxS9gCTvwlhXH_ocSE/s1600-h/stepupposter.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333214354691630418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCf1A10OSPLq6gsnpfEBALFhD6_edgFE-pJ7kPm5xlvny_7Wrq_fNAmBmmqdXl3T_fY2M0k2bmbfP5c8-F5QxwitgpFDg_ebBaM_knTelR1kLIt3zWNKq3QkhfFsxS9gCTvwlhXH_ocSE/s200/stepupposter.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 135px;" /></a>Dear Channing Tatum,<br />
<br />
I don’t like your movies. Please stop making them.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
<span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241732315_4">Step Up</span> to the Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
***</div>
</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMnckkk4EyBuZs-qcT2mKkkMfFbyDxEkkEC0addm4prvPdEpiYp_FZ6lPmxNx7iNEnlvg2SwD3jMMLzuwF-usuB2ZiZHKD4jFs3iPJRhdfbFzkdHjXl7PzBmpfrTVw2BG6YuQVTupp4A0/s1600-h/writersblock.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333214889150279602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMnckkk4EyBuZs-qcT2mKkkMfFbyDxEkkEC0addm4prvPdEpiYp_FZ6lPmxNx7iNEnlvg2SwD3jMMLzuwF-usuB2ZiZHKD4jFs3iPJRhdfbFzkdHjXl7PzBmpfrTVw2BG6YuQVTupp4A0/s200/writersblock.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 143px;" /></a>Dear Writer’s Block,<br />
<br />
I know you like it here, but please consider leaving soon. I really want to get some work done, and inspiration won’t come over when you are here. I understand you two had a falling out some years back. Please come to some sort of understanding for my sake.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
A Struggling Johnson<br />
<br />
P.S. Please tell procrastination to stop playing my X Box 360. He has also overstayed his welcome.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s1600-h/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333210083500015250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s200/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 141px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Mouse who frequents my pantry,<br />
<br />
I gave you the chance to get out. I did not want there to be any blood shed. Unfortunately you have forced my hand, and my wife has deployed the traps smeared with peanut butter.<br />
<br />
You brought this on yourself.<br />
<br />
Andrew “Death to Mickey” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s1600-h/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333210083500015250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjEPJ7i9-S23kKQdQcTQBl0YXBPkOka_YWXjzBhWs9WL9EarZBuZM3n9LhnEXQE71pW1nRCCBa9xZVV9_O7LA2K-6fIihyphenhyphenvv23Yqk5hdzlf2s2vBYVKakUVgrBqkg_vc-XmXMQ4NqZcs/s200/2553654823_9605524547.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 141px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Mouse who frequents my pantry,<br />
<br />
How did you get the peanut butter off the trap without setting it off? Are you some sort of wizard? Well played little adversary, but I will have the last laugh. I might not have devil mouse magic on my side, but I have the next best thing…devil cat magic.<br />
<br />
Mr. Whiskers is going to fucking end you.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew “Round 2” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FSu82j4Ag4MGCYUcroN7P0Va1QZ_vS1D_9FBEJIle_0KoSJ3uKh8gVnizrKFIHVnWzNJ9yNmtuJCm9dkbMV07XmWywQLyPq_NnsN9oWh9sh5OorPVMaFcTurXgp_sV6nepAUh4gmOmI/s1600-h/facebook.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333215247267434274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FSu82j4Ag4MGCYUcroN7P0Va1QZ_vS1D_9FBEJIle_0KoSJ3uKh8gVnizrKFIHVnWzNJ9yNmtuJCm9dkbMV07XmWywQLyPq_NnsN9oWh9sh5OorPVMaFcTurXgp_sV6nepAUh4gmOmI/s200/facebook.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 149px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Facebook,<br />
<br />
Please stop being so addictive. I’m with you so much I feel like I’m having an affair.<br />
<br />
I wish I knew how to quit you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Poke-Master Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLMUy9tX-1hnJvzMlCHi3OsTVL3VOmuLQFofm6WVd80dU_UblkkwCnBxDlHrqO_10HyTMkcnRL-2pkCe_BeiZd8xNHhyphenhyphenk3BN-IFbws_PZhDZZdl9kq8G-irATn0t_GaaFbIW97WcYTXY/s1600-h/valentines-day-pig.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333209496708060962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLMUy9tX-1hnJvzMlCHi3OsTVL3VOmuLQFofm6WVd80dU_UblkkwCnBxDlHrqO_10HyTMkcnRL-2pkCe_BeiZd8xNHhyphenhyphenk3BN-IFbws_PZhDZZdl9kq8G-irATn0t_GaaFbIW97WcYTXY/s200/valentines-day-pig.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 126px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>Dear Swine Flu,<br />
<br />
Think you’re a big man infecting woman and babies? To be honest that sounds pretty lame. Why are people scared of you? You seem like a bitch to me. I dare you to try and infect me you pig disease. My white blood cells will decimate your barnyard threat and then flush you out of my body without mercy.<br />
<br />
Bring it on Swine Flu, and prepare to be dazzled.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew “I eat bacon flu for breakfast” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJzi8BMX9mUhjsgWJrOKHlyuCjPnzuNA1lGEeGa_vlEW-dm4kQCGiou4sM6PnxsNJTaa6luilF4kPXTQfNT3I5_HR79-CQHGjkcN6Zwlcrrj7V8_5sergYgQ9CDjn0YwY-hrxQEvU2A8/s1600-h/boss.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333215727876025218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJzi8BMX9mUhjsgWJrOKHlyuCjPnzuNA1lGEeGa_vlEW-dm4kQCGiou4sM6PnxsNJTaa6luilF4kPXTQfNT3I5_HR79-CQHGjkcN6Zwlcrrj7V8_5sergYgQ9CDjn0YwY-hrxQEvU2A8/s200/boss.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 145px;" /></a>Dear boss,<br />
<br />
When you want me to go over the reports you type up, please do not use Microsoft Word 2000. It is out of date, and I cannot open it without it looking like jumbled coding. Please get some new software, or at least acknowledge that the problem is not me, but your lack of technological know-how.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew “Underpaid” Johnson<br />
<br />
P.S. Please stop spitting when you talk. It is not endearing.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIm1kE6o0dtuInrktv5wJkBKvQz-vjvtLYx2omhSJkVvmuYy2QPG0Q_l4JpQtn60qS8BtKyM-SivRBpZBpylIyNULiDZS7OinNEQCt1_M6XKa0p5bswR-jCIS8_4gWBDzuVHF3t9dlUM/s1600-h/moreau-boarman-final.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333209269727389250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIm1kE6o0dtuInrktv5wJkBKvQz-vjvtLYx2omhSJkVvmuYy2QPG0Q_l4JpQtn60qS8BtKyM-SivRBpZBpylIyNULiDZS7OinNEQCt1_M6XKa0p5bswR-jCIS8_4gWBDzuVHF3t9dlUM/s200/moreau-boarman-final.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 160px;" /></a>Dear Swine Flu,<br />
<br />
Okay, you win. I wave the white flag, I submit to your overpowering urges to vomit. I will do anything you ask, please just don’t make me poop my pants in public again. I swear I’ll infect a million children if you promise to just leave me with my dignity intact.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew “Please make it stop” Johnson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
Dear Mr. Whiskers,<br />
<br />
While I appreciate your help in eliminating the mouse that was living in my pantry, I think its time you were on your way. We had an agreement when you moved in that you would stay only as long as it took to get rid of the pest. Now that you have ended his life, (and proudly displayed his remains on the kitchen table) I believe you have fulfilled your contract and paid you the eighteen cans of tuna that you required. Why you have not left yet is beyond me.<br />
<br />
I am tired of finding fur balls on the floor, and cat poop in the potted plants. Your presence has not been an improvement over the mouse. I am going to ask you this only once; please collect your payment and leave. We do not want a cat, and we do not need a cat any longer.<br />
<br />
If another position opens up we would be happy to reconsider your services. Until then I wish you the best in your future endeavors.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Andrew "The guy whose house you won't leave" Johnson<br />
<br />
P.S. Please stop biting my wife's ankles when she walks past you. She had to get a tetanus shot and is considering leaving me until you are gone.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Dear Mr. Johnson (aka the guy who hangs out it my house),<br />
<br />
GET THE FUCK OUT.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
King Whiskers<br />
<br />
P.S. Buy me more tuna.</div>
</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRaXEJOcgCbHgv83IrLIvr_MCbPHSeVLoMxiub0KN0ayJ6TOwdiYQBIDIIiwpJRErWijMnTeSyL_4dt4ytcD9wzzaQFO2ohqyx5f3QcQmPr-BqLXQaGeJoHYgt6KWj3QCmRSMGM1Eu-I/s1600-h/evil-cat.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333208871443022626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRaXEJOcgCbHgv83IrLIvr_MCbPHSeVLoMxiub0KN0ayJ6TOwdiYQBIDIIiwpJRErWijMnTeSyL_4dt4ytcD9wzzaQFO2ohqyx5f3QcQmPr-BqLXQaGeJoHYgt6KWj3QCmRSMGM1Eu-I/s320/evil-cat.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-10894356906765421482009-04-29T21:47:00.001+01:002019-05-02T16:24:21.144+01:00Vampire Kids Suck Part 2<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTEKFfxS0D5BgvUNrdRCogCHS4mo3VlK-mUX0nUI3RrEzhH0FoRZXBvn-5E4FQDRIUfAU1NPUwEPtBqSQJiKoi_Sn1H66nU47AZhZoqO3IfrLevBBn3Z_ngmUUEWgbVmnKHsfLRVp_u4/s1600-h/vampire5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330219925739233794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTEKFfxS0D5BgvUNrdRCogCHS4mo3VlK-mUX0nUI3RrEzhH0FoRZXBvn-5E4FQDRIUfAU1NPUwEPtBqSQJiKoi_Sn1H66nU47AZhZoqO3IfrLevBBn3Z_ngmUUEWgbVmnKHsfLRVp_u4/s400/vampire5.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 149px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a>I was surprised to find that the “mall” they were talking about was nothing more than the local shopping center. And, the “court” they were talking about wasn’t a vampire sex lair at all; it was just the food court. <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241038026_0">Disappointed</span>, but still eager to see some blood splatter, I entered the mall with a new found dedication to vigilante justice. I was excited at the prospect of jumping in after they made their kill and eliminating them <span style="font-style: italic;">Blade </span>style. I took a seat at the far end of the court to keep a low profile, but still close enough to hear their conversation. I listened intently as I whittled a stake out of some chopsticks I got at PF Chang’s, and doused myself in the garlic I got from <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241038026_1">Olive Garden</span>.<br />
<br />
“We need to make a decision Vampier,” said Russell the fat vampire.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<br />
The skinny chick vampire nodded her head in agreement and said, “I haven’t eaten all day, I begin to weaken.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t worry my friends, I know what we are having tonight,” said Todd/Vampier/Assface, “We are having steak…RARE!”<br />
<br />
Bullshit, I thought. Steak? Is that some sort of slang for cashier’s blood? It turns out it wasn’t as I watched them place their orders at the Steak and Shake, and then proceeded to NOT kill anybody. These kids clearly lost their balls. Vampires don’t eat steak, unless “eating steak” means being stabbed by me in the heart with a sharp piece of wood. Disgruntled, I holstered the chopsticks; it was time for a more direct approach. In order to infiltrate their ranks I needed to go “incognito”. Luckily, I had brought with me an old Dracula costume from my 8th grade Halloween party. I slung the cape around my shoulders, put in the fangs, and added some catsup around the edges of my mouth so they knew I meant business.<br />
<br />
“Hey there,” I said as I approached them, “I’m a big vampire nerd just like you fellas. I just got off the boat from <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241038026_2" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;">TRANSYLVANIA</span>,” I said with a wink, “And I’m in some desperate need of some BLOOD,” I said with another wink and a thumbs up.<br />
<br />
The three vampire kids stared up at me with puzzled expressions. As awkward stillness swept over us, I decided to break the tension with a few menacing hisses. When that didn’t work, I decided to end the silence and said, “Feel free to incorporate me into your communal brood anytime now, I don’t have all day,” and threw in a few more hisses for good measure.<br />
<br />
“Johnson, what the hell do you want?” asked Todd, the super vampire queen.<br />
<br />
Realizing that Todd had seen through my disguise, I started to panic. “Uh…Johnson? Who is this Johnson? I am…Count…Darth…Fett. Yeah, that’s right. Count Darth “Blood taker” Fett…the vampire…from Alderaan.” I then started to flex and pose, “I’m a bounty hunter...and a vampire…from space.”<br />
<br />
“I thought you were from Transylvania?” said Todd.<br />
<br />
“I said I got off the train from their idiot,” I said as I threatened to slap him with my hand. He cringed, so I gave him two for flinching. “Vampires don’t flinch, Todd. Don’t be a pussy.”<br />
<br />
“His name is Vampier, and you’re lying. Alderaan is from <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241038026_3" style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars</span>,” ” said skinny vampire girl.<br />
<br />
Russell took the steak sandwich out of his mouth long enough to say, “Ignore him, he’s just a poser.”<br />
<br />
Poser? I think. You fat-shit bastard.<br />
<br />
“Poser?” I say, “You fat-shit bastard. Here I am trying to unit with my brothers and sister of darkness and all you do is stuff your fat face and judge me?” I grabbed Russell by his skin tight tee-shirt, his eyes filled with terror, “You’re lucky there isn’t a bounty on your head or I’d be cutting you open and curling up in your innards for warmth.”<br />
<br />
“That was in <span style="font-style: italic;">Empire Strikes Back</span>,” said skinny girl vampire.<br />
<br />
I snarled at her, showing my fangs, “What the hell? Are you a vampire or some <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars</span> fag? Want to put up your hair in buns and hang out with Ewoks? I should rip out your trachea and feast on your throat cartilage.”<br />
<br />
Todd stood up, “What the hell do you want? Why are you acting like such an idiot? You’re not even Vamp, man. You’re just dressed up like a tool.”<br />
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“Look, I’ll level with you,” I said, removing my <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241038026_4" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;">vampire fangs</span>. “I’m doing research on the vampire fad, and I wanted the real scoop from the people who know most about it.”<br />
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“Well why didn’t you just ask us?” said Russell, who was shoving French fries into his food hole.<br />
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“It would have been a lot easier that way,” said skinny girl vampire.<br />
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With my notepad open and my pen at the ready, I sat down with the three vampires, ready to learn their secrets. “Alright gang, what is so appealing about the vampire lifestyle?”<br />
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“Definitely the powers,” said Russell.<br />
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“No, it’s the romanticism of it all, the raw sexuality,” said the girl vampire.<br />
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“Come on guys,” said Todd, “The best part about being a vampire is that you’re outside of the established order, you’re not part of the main stream.”<br />
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“Hold on a sec,” I interrupted, “Did that fat-shit bastard over there just say powers?”<br />
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“Oh yeah,” said skinny girl vampire. “I’m a telepath, and an empath vampire.”<br />
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“I can fly and hypnotize my prey,” said Todd.<br />
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Russell flexed his fat arms, “I have super strength and super speed.”<br />
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I maintained alert silence and waited for more. Nothing was forthcoming. I looked Todd in the face, “Get out of town. Tubby has super speed? The only thing he's running toward is a plate of cheese burgers.”<br />
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All three of them sighed; it would seem that I “just don’t get it”. They then ignored me and began to hotly debate the best part of the vampire lifestyle. It was at this point I realized the flaw in my plan. I had indeed found the right people to interview for my article, but what I didn’t realize was that they were the most boring bastards on the planet. I slumped in my chair as the debate raged on for thirty minutes.<br />
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“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I interrupted, not sorry at all. “But I just don’t think this is a constructive use of our time. Is there anyway you can just show me what you kids do?”<br />
The three of them looked at each other, and smiled. “You want to see what Vampires really do?” asked Todd.<br />
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I glared at him, “That’s what I said, retard.”<br />
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“Then come with us my friend,” Todd said in a way that made me feel like he was hitting on me,<br />
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“And we will make you one of us!”<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Next week, Chapter 3</span>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-74740346364064072162009-04-21T22:27:00.000+01:002019-05-02T16:25:05.278+01:00Vampire Kids Suck Part 1<span style="font-weight: bold;">Chapter 1</span><br />
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“I have a full house!” Kyle exclaimed, joyfully reaching for the chips.<br />
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I looked down at his cards and shook my head. “No you dip shit. That isn’t a full house. You don’t win.”<br />
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“Are you sure?” he asked with a stupid look on his face. “You told me a full house was 3 of a kind and two of a kind.”<br />
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“Yeah, but they all have to be the same card,” I lied. “Besides, my 2 pair would beat your full house anyway.”<br />
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“That doesn’t seem right,” said Wade who was sitting across the table from Berry and looking even more stupid, mostly because of his red hair.<br />
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"Shut up Wade," I said. "You're just pissed because you lost the last hand to my pair of 2's."<br />
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"I don't understand how that happened," he said. "I had three aces."<br />
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I laughed, "Yes, but this is Russian roulette poker Wade... there are different rules. I just wish we had a loaded gun so we can play it for real." There was no such thing as Russian roulette poker, but I I often dreamed of killing Wade, so I try to find any excuse I could to get him to put a gun barrel against his head.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofyx-drqhBLDEBtFWei3XkvXvx_i9M7g1qGFg928QWBfjAJS0campaumcibWDiFOGoyvahRR-vYR5DnjHOeEtk87bbaLhgEoy0BpoQFq57mB4TiTQYzVny7UjLm0m5cttuXTuXu2m9sA/s1600-h/Wade.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327261756033342514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofyx-drqhBLDEBtFWei3XkvXvx_i9M7g1qGFg928QWBfjAJS0campaumcibWDiFOGoyvahRR-vYR5DnjHOeEtk87bbaLhgEoy0BpoQFq57mB4TiTQYzVny7UjLm0m5cttuXTuXu2m9sA/s320/Wade.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 267px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 263px;" /></a><br />
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Kyle threw down his cards in frustration, "I don't even know why we play this game, it's so hard to remember all these rules."<br />
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I shot them a shit eating grin and raked in the chips as I continued lying to them, “Guys, poker is hard to learn. But, if it’s any consolation you’re both doing a lot better.”<br />
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As I shuffled the deck and palmed a few aces into my sleeves, a loud sound came from the kitchen.<br />
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“Hey Kyle, I think someone is in your kitchen,” said Wade.<br />
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“Yeah, you might want to go check it out,” I said as I casually stole a few chips from Wade’s pile.<br />
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Kyle shrugged, “It’s just my younger brother and his friends. They’re heading down to the basement.”<br />
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“Isn’t your brother into that vampire crap Kyle?” asked Wade, who was completely unaware that I had just lifted his wallet.<br />
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Kyle gazed at Wade and I with a look of shame in his eyes, “Yeah, he and his friends are really into that <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight </span>crap.”<br />
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I rose from my seat and flipped the table over, sending the cards and chips flying across the room. “<span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span>! Why the hell is he into <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span>? Didn’t he read my review on that stupid book?”<br />
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“I don’t think he reads your blog” said Kyle, who was obviously irritated at me for flipping over his parent’s <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240349223_0">coffee table</span> and creating such a mess. I made a mental note to buy him a present with Wade’s money to try and make up for my outburst.<br />
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“I just don’t understand how teens these days can be into something so lame,” I said. “When we were their age we were into backyard wrestling, underage drinking, and starting fights with the homeless.”<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoYqUkC68iJ5kgTaeUfBtTm5mI0wyQpyMwSZWrpTY2PY4qF_aw8VLRqmKG_29h5M-HXD_JBoy6nBSmlBCnkjK6bb4zezYB3qQw3nqtZDCKjdVK-OgTxGP1twyf1WZO-TQ32dbeJLP6iM/s1600-h/071018vampires_lostboys.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327266871703613874" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoYqUkC68iJ5kgTaeUfBtTm5mI0wyQpyMwSZWrpTY2PY4qF_aw8VLRqmKG_29h5M-HXD_JBoy6nBSmlBCnkjK6bb4zezYB3qQw3nqtZDCKjdVK-OgTxGP1twyf1WZO-TQ32dbeJLP6iM/s320/071018vampires_lostboys.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 219px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 219px;" /></a>“It’s just a fad, it’ll pass,” said Wade, who was breathing in all the air that belongs to normal non red-headed people with his big stupid nostrils.<br />
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“But, why is it a fad?” I asked. “When did sparkling and being emo become cooler than blood sucking and murder?”<br />
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Kyle looked up at me as he cleaned up the mess I made, “I’m not really sure how it happened. I don’t really understand the fan base.”<br />
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Suddenly I was hit with inspiration faster than <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240349223_1">Sonny Bono</span> hitting a tree. Tapping into the one semester of journalism I took in college, I realized that I could write an article that deconstructs the Twilight fan base, giving normal people an understanding on what the hell the appeal is. Smelling a <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240349223_2">Pulitzer Prize</span>, I started to move toward Kyle’s kitchen to confront his little brother on his horrible taste in literature.<br />
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“Hey, where are you going?” asked Kyle.<br />
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“I just need to ask your brother a couple of questions,” I said.<br />
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Kyle laughed as he and Wade picked up the coffee table, “Good luck. He doesn’t talk to anyone who isn’t ‘Vamp’”.<br />
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I spun around and locked eyes with my him, “What the hell does that mean? Is it some sort of Communist code? Because I’m down with the hammer and sickle, man.”<br />
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Kyle looked at me in utter shock, “What? No, he won’t talk to anyone who isn’t into the vampire lifestyle like he and his friends are.”<br />
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“They hang out in the basement and have little rituals and stuff,” said Wade, who was looking around for his missing wallet.<br />
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“So, you’re saying I need to dress up like a vampire to even get him to talk to me?” I asked.<br />
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“No,” said Kyle “I’m saying you should just leave him alone.”<br />
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“Shut your mouth Kyle,” I said as I kicked over the coffee table again, “No wonder you’re 25 and you live with your parents, you have no back bone! You'll still be living in this shitty house while I'm polishing my Pulitzer with a diamond encrusted handkerchief.” I then stormed out of the room with my right middle finger extended in the air, and my left index finger pointing at it in dramatic fashion.<br />
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On my way out of the room I could hear Wade ask, “Has anyone seen my wallet?” I quickened my pace as I headed for the basement door.<br />
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I decided instead of trying to make contact with them, I would first study their behaviors and see what I could learn. I entered the basement quietly in order to avoid detection. I used the darkness to my advantage, quickly moving from the stairwell to the dryer, and then sneaked over to the dusty, unused treadmill in the corner. From there I could see Kyle’s younger brother Todd and his group of friends sitting in a circle on the floor, surrounded by candles. Todd was wearing black eye liner, although you could barely tell with his <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240349223_3" style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border-bottom: medium none; cursor: pointer;">long black hair</span> covering most of his face. He was wearing tight leather pants and a white puffy shirt. He looked like a pirate, only more depressing and gay.<br />
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Next to him was a skinny blonde girl wearing fish net leggings and a black dress covering most of her body. She could have been hot if her face wasn't covered with gratuitous amounts of makeup and eyeliner. Across from Todd was a fat kid wearing a black eyeliner (I noticed a pattern arising) who was stretching out a black Atticus t-shirt and giving his jeans a workout as he tried sitting Indian style. Fat vampire kids also wore make up and had his mouth pierced. I wondered if he had pierced his mouth shut maybe would be able to fit into that Atticus shirt.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSAbBmy1tfRiAxleQJmMZ4dflWp0Xv1t8vpB9QVgpDCVlqH6iIOXJCVa1fYQ12pZV8TyT3_Iem_sT7slNinglWNdX3F9y5SI7dxmvViLNJD8u8cAzJje66fi231ZIjVojb1WCTYH0JG4/s1600-h/Vamp+Kid.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327267248842586050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSAbBmy1tfRiAxleQJmMZ4dflWp0Xv1t8vpB9QVgpDCVlqH6iIOXJCVa1fYQ12pZV8TyT3_Iem_sT7slNinglWNdX3F9y5SI7dxmvViLNJD8u8cAzJje66fi231ZIjVojb1WCTYH0JG4/s320/Vamp+Kid.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 183px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 274px;" /></a><br />
“What do you want to do tonight, Vampier?” the skinny girl said to Todd.<br />
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Vampier? I thought to myself. Who the shit is Vampier? That's Todd. I used to hold his fists, make him punch himself and call him a dick wad. This is lame little Todd, what the hell is this chick doing calling him Vampier?<br />
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“I don’t know Night Star,” replied Todd. “The moon has not yet risen, and I hunger. We must feed at some point tonight that is for certain.”<br />
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“Perhaps we should take to the local court to seek our prey,” said fatty.<br />
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“An excellent proposal, Russell,” said the skinny moron.<br />
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“Yes,” said Todd, king of wieners, “Once the night sky has taken over the day, we shall depart.”<br />
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I couldn’t take it anymore. I had only been listening to them for thirty seconds and I was ready to break my hands on their faces. I was about to jump out from behind the treadmill and pounce on the chubby one with fists flying, when they suddenly got up and started to head for the staircase.<br />
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“We will go to the court my friends,” said Todd the shit faced goon, “And there, we will find our prey.”<br />
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It suddenly dawned on me that Todd and his homoerotic buddies were talking about going somewhere to hunt for people, and then feed on them. <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight </span>vampires don't do that. <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span> vampires are vegetarian pussies that sit around and talk about how much the world doesn’t understand them and pour glitter on their pale, acne ridden skin. I realized that maybe my perception of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight </span>vampire fad might have been wrong. Never one to turn down a blood splatter show, I silently waited as they read poetry, played HIM albums, and read their vampire fan fiction to each other.<br />
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Just as I was about to strangle myself with my boxer shorts, Todd stood up and and said "It is time for us to go to the court, and feed." I watched as they made their way up the stairs and prepared to follow/stalk them.<br />
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My mind started racing to what this “court” could be. Was there some underground vamp kid kingdom I had been unaware of? Did they have blood orgies and feed on young virgin women? Did they sleep in coffins and turn into bats? Did they sparkle? These were questions that needed answered. I stopped when Todd got to the top of the stairs and watched him slowly opened the door.<br />
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“Mom!” he yelled, “We're going to the mall!”<br />
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I smiled the coy smile that only geniuses can muster. I was going to follow them to this “mall” and discover their blood sucking vampire secrets...<br />
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I decided before I could do that I needed to stock up on as much vampire killing supplies as I could, regardless of the price. I wasn't worried; I still had Wade's wallet.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Next week, Chapter 2</span>Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-75623379724977428292009-04-17T22:31:00.000+01:002019-05-02T16:25:18.822+01:00John Madden Announces Retirement, Sports World Rejoices<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YAMpJv0U6zkU4bKPVWwsdRqPLq10wJUp6OV3bduPTOjCIrcypl0QORNwXHkgWzTxQFPnCEOuvYsUjjICMLpOzIdCipiHKSTQOT9UX7eOlIGRBVw4ARv8tQA_Bf_tNOgDflCWKOnifEM/s1600-h/john_madden.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325776635165442642" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YAMpJv0U6zkU4bKPVWwsdRqPLq10wJUp6OV3bduPTOjCIrcypl0QORNwXHkgWzTxQFPnCEOuvYsUjjICMLpOzIdCipiHKSTQOT9UX7eOlIGRBVw4ARv8tQA_Bf_tNOgDflCWKOnifEM/s320/john_madden.jpg" style="float: left; height: 211px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 258px;" /></a>John Madden’s last game as a football commentator was announcing a thrilling Super Bowl in which he had no interest in.<br />
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John Madden, one of the sports most decorated announcers and greatest coaches, announced his retirement on Thursday. With this announcement he officially ended a storied career that seemed to tailspin in the last decade. Yet it didn’t fit Madden’s style to think about his retirement that way.<br />
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“I love grinders,” he said when asked about his favorite part of the announcing job. “You just get all these free submarine sandwiches, these grinders, and go through them and when it’s all over, you think about it. That’s what I’ll miss the most…the sandwiches.” </div>
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Madden’s exuberance for football and blue-collar persona endeared him to TV viewers for twenty years, and annoyed them for the last ten. </div>
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“I’m so thrilled he’s leaving. I felt like he was really just calling it in for the last few years,” said longtime broadcast partner Pat Summerall. “At the Super Bowl he wasn’t even paying attention to the game. All he did was eat his sandwiches and watch two interns play <em>Tiger Woods PGA Tour</em>.”</div>
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Madden said his health is fine, but at the age of 73, he wanted to spend more time at home. “The thing that made it hard is: ‘Is it the right decision?’ But I enjoyed it so damn much,” Madden said. “I really liked getting those free sandwiches.” </div>
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Cris Collinsworth, who will replace Madden, has been partying in his basement with Bob Costas and Stuart Scott since the announcement. He was unable to be reached for comment. </div>
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Dick Ebersol called Madden “a mediocre sports broadcaster and best example of a ‘human garbage disposal’ who ever lived.”</div>
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“He will eat anything he can get his hands on,” Ebersol said. “I’m not kidding. Once he tried eating my microphone when he dropped his stupid grinder on my shoe.”</div>
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Now that he’s retired Madden expects to sit at home all the time, except when he’s busy with his many endorsements. His <em>Madden NFL Football</em> is the top-selling sports video game of all time, and is in negotiations with <em>Quiznos</em> to become their official spokesman. </div>
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“I haven’t done shit for the video game in like 7 years. I was shocked they still made them,” said Madden. “As for the <em>Quiznos</em> deal, I’m really just in it for the free grinders.”</div>
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325790112325442978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIVia1edDKs7NvdjwYoOcs2lbgEUuKns9Db5SL48ipURsH8dpKAWjKvoUnwO9OlmvXkbo40BkxcPO0WA4Ns5WOYxXs8rlMGqYBlG7w6b-T6PYfbHCe24YE6VOSyhyphenhyphenMDY_FBbW6ez0z4A/s320/John-Madden.jpg" style="display: block; height: 242px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" />Madden won 16 Emmy Awards and became one of the most recognizable voices in television, mixing high-volume over-enthusiasm with blindingly obvious analysis on the telestrator.<br />
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“He was like a double edged sword— that guy you really wanted to come to your house to watch the game because he brought free food,” Ebersol said. “But, after a while you kind of get tired of him making the obvious calls, and reiterating exactly what you just said. At that point you realize no matter how good the free meal is, you’d rather just eat a bag of Doritos alone and watch the game in peace.”</div>
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Madden said he waited until two months after the season to determine whether to continue, not wanting to rush into a decision. “The last game I did was the Super Bowl, which was pretty good,” Madden said. “Or so I’ve heard. I don’t really recall. I know I was there, and I remember talking. Was it about the game? I can’t say for sure. To be honest every game I’ve ever called is just a big blur to me.”</div>
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When Madden had second thoughts he decided to call Ebersol to discuss the option of him finishing his 6 year contract. Ebersol flew to California on Wednesday morning and spent 11 hours with Madden, trying to persuade him to change his mind. A deal was struck when Ebersol agreed to let Madden come over every week for <em>Monday Night Football</em> to do the play by play in Ebersol’s kitchen while eating free food. </div>
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“It’s a small price to pay to keep him off TV,” Ebersol said, while wiping away tears. “Just let the world know of my sacrifice.”</div>
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When asked how he was going to prepare for Madden spending so much time at his home every Monday night, Ebersol laughed. “Prepare? He’s been coming to my house every week since we struck the deal! I don’t think he really knows when the season begins; he’s just been showing up at my house every Monday commentating on my grandkids game of <em>Madden 09</em> and eating my food. One visit from John costs me up to $1,000 in grocery bills.”</div>
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“Now if you’ll excuse me, Ebersol said, “I need to go get enough groceries to sustain John's next visit. We ran out of food last week and he tried to eat Ziggy, my miniature Dachshund. I can’t let that happen.”</div>
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When asked for a comment, Madden said, “Oh yeah…I’m going to eat the shit out of that wiener dog…BOOM!”<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325779370329211490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXp5VaPtJxMh4T1nxJZUlVq-M24xOafNkAjiWH4JjXJQEtKYdk5a0cqxPEu3vOuKizuVoTJs1MgtKtvA8Z56L8aAyWVQk0neAagNAq2Z9eYflvLa1oH9-8Rqkgc-I8MFItYPpwyJ_-AYY/s320/5005451.jpg" style="display: block; height: 304px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></div>
Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2595912819160257494.post-34431236760961915012009-04-14T22:17:00.000+01:002019-05-02T16:26:36.132+01:00My Plan to Get My Student Loans PaidI, like most Americans, am in a tremendous amount of debt. My debt however is not due to frivolous spending or an addiction to online poker. My debt stems from the greatest racket in the history of all mankind…college loans. Sometimes I sit back and think about all the money I would have right now if I had not pursued that golden goose. Where would I be if I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wasn</span>’t paying off loans for a degree that I’m not even really using? Instead I wasted five years of my life and spent money I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">didn</span>’t have. Now I’m stuck paying off massive amounts of cash to a company that is as heartless as Timothy McVeigh.<br />
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Since I am tired of taking such a thrashing from Sallie Mae I have come up with a simple solution to my financial woes…begging. Don’t worry; I’m not going to be hitting up you good people to pay my student loans. Most of my readers can barely afford <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ramen</span> Noodles.<br />
<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324660081991306242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZZbHR0l0ZPW7cUmN8tBlr3M_YgUwOyzqQ4p10MrznzKMSl4cAHuo2y05BxgRXidLA3ftncOKQ8gYDdJWh3b_zjhn3xd5Uux5iYxJyJ4s7kxOSjP7mRbVzkwQA-hK3clDmwhoKdSaJng/s320/ramen.jpg" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 258px;" /><br />
No I’m hunting for bigger game. I hope to appeal to one of the most powerful men in the world to pay off my loans, Mr. Bill “Super Nerd” Gates. </div>
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324660439595323442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0MlSCUBGby863HJ5WiuIwAdh4hhVn1lJCIiEIuRBINO9_D87-hZRULxh4feVY0vTyfZUhdX4QDivfRRHtZtCCyVif_VwZhWWn5Pznl-Hs0pa_54JuO8_fQyOayRa_NrXYU9Z3S1lAX4/s320/bill_gates2.jpg" style="display: block; height: 215px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 262px;" /><br />
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I know what you’re thinking. Bill Gates is the type of guy that would acknowledge me the same way he acknowledges a fart in the wind, why would he ever consider paying off my undergraduate financial burden? I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ve</span> thought about it, and I have come up with four reasons why he, Bill Gates, should pay off my student loans.<br />
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<strong>#1: He can afford it.</strong></div>
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Let’s not even play that game. Bill Gates could pay off my loans with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mon</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75p3Rn7k_PPz40vwAy1AkuDKPB4S7LZNVx11LfOTs0-gHrDN7jrzbnbBJMZSIHx1MncSnlvZznltRuopYn5_8gjas3KwE4CAbhLjybz1ZZbgxZ1xkr9tQl9Pkd4zkwE67N1h6Y9bsbME/s1600-h/money+toilet+paper.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324668559907854450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75p3Rn7k_PPz40vwAy1AkuDKPB4S7LZNVx11LfOTs0-gHrDN7jrzbnbBJMZSIHx1MncSnlvZznltRuopYn5_8gjas3KwE4CAbhLjybz1ZZbgxZ1xkr9tQl9Pkd4zkwE67N1h6Y9bsbME/s200/money+toilet+paper.jpg" style="float: right; height: 164px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 193px;" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ey</span> he uses to line the bottom of his bird cage. I hear from less informed people on a nearly constant basis that Bill Gates “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">isn</span>’t as rich as he once was”. That might be true, but guess what people; the man is worth over $90 billion. That’s in dollars. 90 BILLION DOLLARS. The guy could buy and sell you off this planet. Being $90 billion liquid means the guy has money to spare, and I'll seriously take any money he has lying around. I’d even take the money he uses to wipe his ass, I don’t care. With his turds on it I could sell it on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ebay</span> for more than it's value.<br />
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<strong>#2: I would become his friend.</strong><br />
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I like to think that I'm a pretty rad dude. People seem to like spending time with me, so why wouldn't Bill Gates? I'm sure that if he got to know me than he and I would become great friends. We both like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">XBOX</span> 360, we both like money, and we both seem to enjoy spending it. I can imagine what a day hanging out with Bill Gates would be like. We would start by taking a dip in his Jello pool which would double as breakfast. Then we would take his jet packs to the nearest mall and buy it.<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324683834016643202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvqkOWnFglegtaDLk8CWcQRw7-jM2qHbv87vlF3SqV9G5pe6b8SozuzQ5ttm69_XFo9FNPFDqY2Gg8BvNS4oX6ih-je1-S8eF6oguXmghRVhK0RRztY87b7_OtDd6G-ya-UVGxzsg92U/s320/jet+pack+2.jpg" style="display: block; height: 297px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" />Then we would wave money in front of homeless people only to pull it away at the last moment. After that we would get home in time to eat dinosaur eggs for dinner and watch the cast of <em>M*A*S*H*</em> act out scenes from the show in his home theatre. We would then reenact the battle of Helm's Deep from <em>Lord of the Rings</em> on his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">holodeck</span> before we had his robot butlers put us to bed in his futuristic tree house. Sure the friendship seems one sided, but I would bring a bag of Doritos.<br />
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Ranch flavored. <br />
<strong>#3: I could become the official face for his PC campaign.</strong><br />
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Let's be honest, Bill isn't the best looking guy around. I'm not saying he's dog shit ugly...I just think his company needs a fresh face to appeal to the younger crowd. Mac has Justin Long, what does PC have? It has Bill on TV with Jerry Seinfeld peddling his wears. Now I'm a huge Seinfeld fan, but he's not exactly the voice of our generation. He's more the voice of a few generations back. I, on the other hand, am a young 20 something male with mop top hair and stylish rimmed glasses...I could be the bridge between PC and my generation. Also, I am not as computer literate as you might assume, so I could rant and rave about how user friendly the PC really is! And, in the end Justin Long and I could have a showdown...MAC vs. PC in a steel cage at Madison Square Garden. I like Justin Long, but I would murder his grandmother in front of him to get my student loans paid. Which leads me to my last reason Bill Gates should pay off my student loans...<br />
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<strong>#4: I would destroy Apple.</strong><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1lRE4P_h0qm3yVJuH0vO-4sMcVB-UnKv2_teWdphT2oPairlN9QWdrF1VjZbdXj6cS_KhyIaQYp2fB9jEo77e5CCnoSdhVv71RZw2HLvu4O__DuzqUir0ODKuXKJ-tIBSn5MDlTQOyo/s1600-h/appleairwideweb470x4410gx9.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325028814005509506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1lRE4P_h0qm3yVJuH0vO-4sMcVB-UnKv2_teWdphT2oPairlN9QWdrF1VjZbdXj6cS_KhyIaQYp2fB9jEo77e5CCnoSdhVv71RZw2HLvu4O__DuzqUir0ODKuXKJ-tIBSn5MDlTQOyo/s200/appleairwideweb470x4410gx9.jpg" style="float: left; height: 188px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>I love iT<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">unes</span>, I love my iP<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">od</span>, but they would all fall victim to my merciless rage if Bill Gates agreed to pay off my debt. I would be like the Grinch; moving from house to house, taking all the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">MAC's</span> and iP<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">od's</span> and iP<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">hone's</span>, and destroying them. I would then hit every store in the nation (using my jet pack that my best bud Bill let me have) destroying every Apple product with my laser death cannon, (another gift from Bill). I would then confront Steve Jobs in his home and take pictures of him using a PC, then spread it around the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Internet</span>. With his credibility destroyed, Apple would be forced to file for Chapter 11. Now eliminating the only competition he faces, Bill Gates will rebuild the monopoly that the U.S. government made him disband all those years ago, eventually leading to world domination. And, my good friend Bill Gates will award me with a seat at his right hand, while he rules the world with an iron, limp <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">wristed</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">girly</span> fist.<br />
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And, I would bring the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Doritos</span>.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2WxORJx9PACsjRGwhjMU9CPlapC4V5H_aDUzWcK9tjJk10ZAl2EiE1etWB_pkmTK2-ZKFJ7wskNAJnGfNCIxZ5HrbGHUuqmWgDYui1EI85ShwL1HDRZA1G76tYpSVBy-2Wrq5ahl5B8/s1600-h/microsoft.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325030576182942514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2WxORJx9PACsjRGwhjMU9CPlapC4V5H_aDUzWcK9tjJk10ZAl2EiE1etWB_pkmTK2-ZKFJ7wskNAJnGfNCIxZ5HrbGHUuqmWgDYui1EI85ShwL1HDRZA1G76tYpSVBy-2Wrq5ahl5B8/s400/microsoft.jpg" style="float: right; height: 119px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 345px;" /></a></div>
Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06461544525538941555noreply@blogger.com1