I wish Hollywood would stop giving Bruce Willis and Sean Connery hair [the latter has been bald for a fucking decade]. Why are they doing it? What, their characters couldn’t possibly be portrayed well without it? Don’t tell me it’s for sex-appeal. Those two have already fucked everyone, I’m sure. They don’t need more pussy.

While I’m addressing Hollywood, I have a question. Who decided that making Basic Instinct 2 was a good idea? It’s 2006, guys. We have the internet. Seeing Sharon Stone’s bush really isn’t going to get a rise out of the general public, anymore. Hell, anyone who’s seen The Passion has seen Jesus’ pubes. Do you really think you can top the pubic hair of the son of God?

Does Pam Anderson still think that she’s a star of some sort? She wasn’t really even big during her fifteen minutes but, somehow, she still makes the news. She’s really reaching, lately, like in this photo where she desperately screams for attention by finally showing the world her labia:

There’s writing on her boob, too. Classy.

A History Of Violence is not the amazing movie that everyone is saying it is. It was mediocre. A neat idea, but just not executed well enough for me to see it as the trophy film that it’s touted as. Some of those scenes were just really, poorly done.

I saw a band called Eyes Like Knives, Wednesday night. The female vocalist [there were a couple different singers] was sitting on her PA after playing and, with some dim lighting, looked like my ex… thing. I don’t even know what to call her, now that I think of it. Mea. She looked like Mea. It was the nose. Mea had a great nose. It’s funny how a split second of clever lighting and Jamaican beer can stir up something I’ve done a pretty good job of burying.

I was rollerblading in Haslett [MI], once, and smelled Tucson. It fucked me all up. I’d been away from Tucson for a few years, at the time. I couldn’t really even describe what Tucson smells like, honestly, but that was it. I smelled Tucson.

This post is boring, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve not had time to jot down witty / interesting observations, lately. I’m 5 days from the move, you know? I’m consumed by the stress, excitement, and sadness that comes along with that. I still have a bit of cleaning and packing to do. I’ve pretty much finished giving my possessions away, which was much harder than it sounds. Seriously, who turns down a free Ikea nightstand?

It’s funny because it’s true.

If you enjoy Triumph the Insult Dog, you’ll like this video. Good gravy, I laughed hard. “Hey, it’s my year! I’m taking this.”

If you’re like me [asshole], you hate the way Flickr.com’s image browsing works. That frustration is now gone for me because of this site. It allows you to view tons of thumbnails at a time and gives one the ability to query random images, similar to the way the LJ random images site works.

Am I the only one who’s bothered by how touchy-touchy the Olsen twins are with one another? Seriously. I mean, how Flowers in The Attic is the below image?

Do other people get up on their sibling’s kool-aid like this?

I’m sure you’ve all been to the Random Chuck Norris Facts site. If not, do so. That site also provides random Vin Diesel facts. Because my opinion of such things is so vital to my readers [all 3 of you], I’d like to share some of my favorites.

“Chuck Norris takes a baseball bat into the can with him in case he craps out a wildcat and has to beat it to death.”

“If you were to lock Vin Diesel in a room with a guitar, a year later you would have the greatest album ever, it would sweep the Grammy’s. When asked why he doesn’t do this Vin replied “Because Grammy’s are for queers.” Then he ate a knife to show the seriousness of his response.”

“When Chuck Norris does push-ups, he doesn’t lift his body off the ground; he pushes the earth away from his body.”

“When Chuck Norris beats his dog for peeing on the rug, he does so at the PETA headquarters out of sheer spite.”

“Whenever Vin Diesel puts out a cigarette, he throws it in slow motion into a long line of gasoline and calmly walks away as an inferno erupts behind him.”

“When Chuck Norris works out, he sweats fortitude.”

“When Chuck Norris has a good idea he kicks over a forklift carrying a pallet of light bulbs.”

“When Chuck Norris goes swimming, he doesn’t get wet. The water gets Chuck Norris.”

Though he tends to make movies that lack quality, I’d still have no problems drinking tomato soup from the small of Jason Statham’s back. I’m just saying…

I hate the DJ voice. You know what I’m talking about? If you’ve ever listened to top 40 radio or been to a wedding, that’s the guy I’m referring to. I can’t really explain what it is that I dislike about it. It just makes me want to stab.

While on my way to lunch with Lynn, yesterday, I noticed a middle-aged turd of a man on a Harley. His wife was on the bike with him and the leather jackets they donned hadn’t a single scuff on them. On the guy’s helmet was a sticker that said ‘Bikers For Bush.’ It was in the shape of and used the colors from the Harley Davidson logo. I was appalled. The guys who invented that clique, real bikers, would have cut out that guy’s tongue for such pro-establishment bullshit. Bikers for Bush? What an ass.

Dear East Lansing [non-nu] Punk Guy,

I see you, man. I see the combat boots and spiked wristband. I see the patches and safety pins and neck-tattoos. Yes, your mohawk is tall and the whiskey on your breath is beyond apparent. You’ve got the sleeping bag and that fuck-the-system attitude. I get it. What I don’t get, though, is how you can afford a $130 Merrell backpack [brand new] but not a fecking shower. No, I don’t want a hug, man. I want you to cleanse yourself. I want to talk to you about Bad Religion and NOFX without throwing up in my mouth. Is that so much to ask? Do you need soap? I have extra.

I want you to love baths like I do,
Don