Can You Sell Me Some Shark Repellent?...

I hate blogging for blogging sake. I'm definitely of the opinion that you should only blog when you have something to say. Now I am well aware that what I have to say might not qualify as something you think really needs to be said, but these things are subjective, aren't they? I only begin this way because I have to admit that I genuinely wanted to publish a post today, regardless of the fact that I really didn't have anything to write about. Call me a hypocrite, but I just wanted one more post out of April.

So I wrestled with this "problem" for a short time. You see, I love the feeling I get when I publish a shiny, new post. I can't really describe it, but I think that other people who enjoy writing as much as I do may know what I'm talking about. I don't think its anything as major as a grand sense of accomplishment, but it just feels good. And I like to feel good. Much better than feeling bad. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a masochist.

As I alluded to before, the line between good writing and bad writing is subjective at best. Someone who I think is incredible, may just be "meh" to you. But I think we can all agree that writing with a purpose, even if it is only meaningful to the person writing it, will always create a better end result. So where the fuck does that leave me?

Write something just to pad my post count for the month, or allow April to slip away without a whisper. Never ever to return.

Pay no attention to the melodrama. It adds texture.

So I was mindlessly surfing random sites, while internally debating my little "problem", when I stumbled upon the coolest thing. And just like that, my problem had solved itself. I found something that I just needed to share.

It's no secret that I harbour slight nerd tendencies. One of the things I am slightly nerdy about is Batman. I don't care how cool you think you are, you have to admit that Batman is fucking awesome. You may think one iteration of Batman is far superior to others, but the case still stands that Batman is for everyone. From the campy TV show (shark repellent...Batman is ready for fucking anything) all the way to the current Christian Bale variety, there really is a style and format for anyone to enjoy. But enough defending my inner nerd, let's get to the point.

The Dark Knight opens in July and is easily my most anticipated film of the summer. I almost never go to movies on opening night, but this will be one of those rare exceptions. Don't worry though, I'm planning on leaving my Batman costume at home.

You may or may not be aware that there is a new trailer for the movie currently making the rounds on the internet. Problem is, I can't find it. It keeps getting yanked by Warner Bros. They are officially releasing it online on Sunday, and aren't too appreciative of people spoiling their debut. I can understand this, because the quality of these bootlegs is always piss poor, and Warner Bros is probably worried that a poor quality representation of the trailer will portray the film in a negative light. But that doesn't change the fact that I still want to see it RIGHT NOW. This is the year 2008, Warner Bros. I don't want to wait for my stimuli. I want it 10 minutes ago. This is the ADD generation dammit, and we need to digest this shit fast so we can move on to the next thing. Ultimately, while the viral marketing thing has been cool, just give me the damn trailer already.

In an effort to locate said trailer, I found the below video. It comes via collegehumor.com and is a side by side comparison of the trailers for the 1989 Batman film and The Dark Knight. And its fucking uncanny. I got a kick out of it, but maybe that's just me. Is anyone else a closeted Batman fan? Or just looking forward to The Dark Knight?

You know what sucks, though? I just realized that (for some reason) I cannot view this post, as I'm writing it, in "compose" mode with the video attached. It immediately shuts down my IE. So I'm going to cross my fingers, click "Publish Post" with my tongue (because my fingers are busy being crossed), and hope this works. If the formatting is all fucked up, you know why.

I hate HTML.

See more funny videos at CollegeHumor

A Slight Change....

So I received more than one angry email telling me to "fucking change the colors back on your page. I can't read your new post!". Kind of surprising since I didn't do anything to change my font or background colors in the first place. Blogger is fucking with me I think. And I don't like it when my free services fuck with me. So for the time being, I've changed the colors and backgrounds to a new template, but I'm not crazy about it. In fact, the previous template I was using was about the only one I did like. So what should I do?

I'm thinking about transferring to a new blogging site. Anyone have any suggestions or recommendations? I'm open for input. Anyone previously post on Blogger, but changed to a new site and are happier with it? Let me know.

And while we're in the "interrogating" frame of mind, how many of you couldn't read my newest post? Maybe that explains the lack of comments. Except for good ol' Heather. The rest of you should sit in the corner for a bit.

Kris: The Official Motion Picture Soundtrack...

If you could have absolutely anything your heart desired, what would it be? Anything at all. Your first impulse might be to imagine eternal happiness, world peace, true love, or a million dollars. While those are all noble answers (except the million dollars I guess, unless you're planning on donating it to charity) let's dig deeper than that. Let's really get to the root of the question and think about what you would REALLY REALLY want if by some weird (possibly sexual....no, probably sexual) circumstance, you were faced with a blue skinned, slightly effeminate, magical genie. Why is he slightly effeminate? Well why not, you homophobe. And is "magical genie" redundant? If I had just said "genie", you would have come to the same conclusion, yes? I'm voting for redundant.

Have you thought about it? Well so have I. And I've made up my mind. Taking a cue from Family Guy, I would have to say my answer would be.....my very own soundtrack! How fucking cool would it be to have your own soundtrack, completely in sync with your thoughts and actions! Imagine a world where a disembodied audience would collectively hoot and holler whenever you unleashed a particularly spicy double entendre. Or an emotional "awwwwwwww" when you romantically embrace your significant other. How about dark, ominous tones playing while you're hatching an equally dark and ominous master plan? You don't hatch dark and ominous master plans? Well maybe you should.

Wouldn't you love to be able to stage your own cheesy 80s montage with "Eye of the Tiger" dripping all over everything? You have to see the benefits to this plan by now. In fact, I would go so far as to say that if you ever ARE faced with a blue skinned, slightly effeminate genie, you would be a fool NOT to wish for your very own soundtrack. But just in case you still need convincing, here are some scenarios you may encounter in your day to day life, and how they would be enriched with the addition of a soundtrack. In order to really get you in the proper frame of mind, we're going to do this while utilizing my brilliant new "SOUND O' SCOPE MOOD ELEVATING MYSTERY MACHINE" (patent pending). I've included some videos to listen to while you read the scenarios. Click play on the video, wait 10 seconds or so (in order to really get into the song) and then read the corresponding paragraph below it. The first scenario even has more than one video! You'll be agreeing with me before you know it. And isn't that the first step on the road to being a better person? I've always said "The world would be a much better place if everyone would just blindly agree with me all of the time". That's not too much to ask, is it?

__________

Scenario The First

Your palms are sweating profusely, and refuse to dry off, no matter how many times you wipe them on your pant legs. Your throat is dry and your stomach feels slightly queasy. You've been seeing your significant other for a little over a year and have decided that this is the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. Even though you're madly in love, a slight bit of uncertainty clouds your thoughts. This will either be the defining moment of your life, or your greatest defeat. The sun is shining, and a slightly warm east wind is blowing the hair away from your forehead, doing little to ease your perspiration, while you slowly walk to her house to meet. You've played the scenario over and over again in your head, but are still afraid you're not going to be able to make a sound when the time comes. You thrust your hands into your pockets in order to fight the clammy feeling you know will be apparent to her once you embrace, but all you can notice is the way the muscles in your upper thigh are twitching in a combination of nervousness and anticipation. Even with some doubt however, you are optimistic and a slight smile curls your lips. You arrive at her door and ring the bell.

She opens the door and you are speechless. She is more beautiful than you even remember, and for a moment, you forget why you even came over in the first place. A quick shake of your head, and you're back on track. Seeing as its such a beautiful day, you decide to take her for a walk, to that special place you both hold so dear. Everyone has a special place, a landmark if you will. Once you arrive, you get down on one knee, and throw yourself at her mercy.

And she says yes, with tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, like little salty diamonds. You say your goodbyes and share a slow, sweet, lips slightly parted kiss. Why are you leaving so soon after proposing? I don't know, you have shit to do I guess. Try to keep up.

All is right with the world, and nothing could bring you down at this moment. The occasion clearly calls for a strut. So you strut on down the street, completely full of yourself, and can't help thinking about how awesome you are. A bright cartoon bluebird chirps a friendly hello and lands on your shoulder. Except instead of just sitting there, he grinds his little bluebird ass up against your shoulder. Because you're that goddamn sexy.


Scenario The Second




You're having the worst day of your life. The alarm fails to wake you up on time and now you're rushing to get out the door, remembering very clearly that your boss has specifically told you never to be late again, unless you would rather be late for the unemployment line. There's no time to brew a pot of coffee, so you jump in your car, promising your tired, sleep caked eyes that you'll stop at the first drive thru you see. This is probably the best part of your day, as the drive thru manages not to fuck up your order for a change, and you're back on track. But you're still running a bit late, so you drive a little faster than you're used to, and conveniently forget that pothole that you manage to avoid every other morning. And now you're wearing your coffee. Fuck. You have little choice but to return home and change your shirt. You slam on your brakes at the end of your driveway and bolt into your house. You take the stairs two at a time, throw open your bedroom door and see.....your best friend, balls deep inside your wife, while your father in law films the entire thing. And he's jerking off. All over your favorite robe.

You blink in disbelief, but don't have the time to process anything you've just seen. You grab another shirt out of your closet, throw it on and run back out of the house. Your best friend didn't even slow down the pounding of your wife's vag while you were there, by the way.

You finally pull up to work and sprint to the elevator. Each second in the elevator feels like an eternity, as you can't get the image of your friend fucking the shit out of your wife, out of your head. You look at your watch and realize that you're over half an hour late. A small feeling of dread sits in the pit of your stomach as you anticipate what is coming. The "ding" of the elevator announces your floor, and you speed walk deftly in between cubicles to reach your office. You get a small feeling of hope as you realize your manager isn't around. Maybe this will turn out okay! Nope. The reason you didn't see him is because he is in your office, packing your shit into a cardboard box. And not even a new box. And old, battered one. He pushes your belongings across the desk at you and requests that you "have a nice day". That's when the vein in your head fucking pops.

Scenario The Third

You've lived your entire existence in the same neighborhood. This is your home. All of your haunts are here, as well as all of your friends. But all of this is in danger due to greedy land developers and their need for yet another golf course. And the land developer's son is a complete douchebag that almost killed your older brother, Josh Brolin. Luckily, you find an old treasure map in your attic, and embark on an adventure to find enough rich stuff to save the day! And there's this cool skeleton piano, and a pirate ship, and robbers chasing after you, and they're all like "Hey, you kids...give us that map!" And you're all like "No way, this is our map". And then a mutant swings across a lake that's hidden inside a mountain and saves the day.

Okay, so maybe this last scenario isn't entirely realistic, but come on! Wouldn't that be cool? I think I need to write a tribute to The Goonies.

__________

So? Are you convinced? All those videos were a pain in the ass to embed in the HTML, so you better be. Music is a fantastic addition to almost any situation, so you really can't lose with your own soundtrack. You would need the ability to mute it every now and then though, otherwise you would just go crazy. You can't listen to music and sound effects all of the time. Ofcourse, this is all rendered rather moot, by the sheer implausibility of a blue skinned, slightly effeminate genie just showing up and granting me my heart's desire. Clearly I need a more realistic option. Originally, I thought the way to go would be to strap a midget to my back and have him narrate my life for me. Not quite the same as your own soundtrack, but it kind of follows the same train of thought. Then I realized how fucking annoying that would be after the first 5 minutes. Plus I'm sure some human rights organization would come down on me hard for strapping a midget to my back. No, I would have to think of something better.

And then it came to me. An MP3 player! I can put on my earphones and pretend I have my own soundtrack! I can program playlists for different moods and even throw some sound effects and a laugh track on there for those "special" moments. Goddamn, my brilliance scares even me sometimes.

So I bought this thing.....

It has 4 GB of space and a built in radio and video and I loves it. Not quite to the point where I want to fuck it though, because I can't imagine microchips feeling all that great rubbing up against my cock. What was the very first thing I put on there, you ask? Half an hour of porno, because I'm all about being prepared. Think of me as an overgrown boyscout. Not that I will find many opportunities to watch porn while I'm walking down the street or riding the bus, but isn't it better to have porn and not need it, than to need porn and not have it? I think Confucious said that. Something to think about anyway.

Who's a Lazy Blogger? Not me...

I swears it. My current lifestyle has kept me away from home (and by extension, away from my computer) for extended periods of time. I've actually written about 10 different things in the last week. Unfortunately, as I was away from a computer, I couldn't type them up fast enough and they escaped. So if you see any of these missing posts, be sure to let me know.

I'm at work right now, but wanted to let you guys know that I'm not dead. At least not officially. I've been battling a bit of a sinus infection for the last few days, so although I feel slightly dead, I have not been officially proclaimed as such. If I am dead, I'll be sure to let you know, post haste.

So tonight (hopefully) I'll have something up that's far more entertaining to read than excuses. In the meantime, here's some answers to the questions I was asked FAR too long ago. You can read my blog buddy's answers here: http://kelticdragonfly.blogspot.com/2008/04/kris-youre-it.html
Be sure to read some of her other stuff while you're slumming it over there (JUST KIDDING HEATHER). She's a great read, and probably other things, although I'm in the dark as to what those other things may be, as I don't know her in the biblical sense. She is from Ohio after all.

And I guess I should pass this thing on, lest I incur the wrath of some Blogging God somewhere in the interwebs. So CANADADAD......tag, you're it. Sorry buddy, but I'm really curious about what kind of tree you would be. On with the interrogation...

1. WHAT IS YOUR PERFECT FOOD?
That's easy....cherry flavoured pez. (QUICK! 2 points to whomever can spot the movie reference there). Actually, I would have to go with pizza. Any topping besides mushrooms. No scat pizza for me please. I know pizza is a pretty obvious answer, but literally, I could eat pizza every single day and not get sick of it. I usually do eat it 2 or 3 times a week. Mmmmmm.....

2. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?
I prefer not to discriminate against colors of any sort. Unless we're talking about purple. That's where I draw the line. It's good to know your limits.

3. HAIR
I'm noticing an alarming trend as I get closer and closer to my 30s. My hair seems to be moving slowly but steadily backwards. My hairline has receded a bit in the last few years and I'm absolutely certain the hair hasn't fallen out. It's moving down my neck and onto my back. I'm a little worried that I will be the victim of heavy ankle hair by the time I'm in my 50s. Maybe eventually, it will move over the soles of my feet and back up the front. I'll keep you posted.

4. RECENT DVD WATCHED
Does Porn count? Okay, then I would have to go with "Scooby Doo and the Reluctant Werewolf". And no, my kids weren't over when I watched it. Fuck you for judging me.

5. GUILTY PLEASURE TV SHOW
I don't really watch TV now, but back when I did, it would probably have been Jerry Springer. There's just something about watching fucked up rednecks and trailer trash fighting over who gets to sleep with his own sister first, that just makes me feel better about myself. Thanks Jerry!

6. IF I WAS A TREE, WHAT KIND OF TREE WOULD I BE....
I don't think it matters what kind of tree I used to be, since I would be long burned down. Chain smoking trees don't carry an extra long life span, methinks.

So I don't think that really answered any questions about me that you may have, so lets keep this going. Anything you want to know about me? Anything you want to hear my opinion on? List some questions in the comments and I'll do my best to answer them in the least condescending and sarcastic manner that I can muster. I won't promise to answer all of the questions, as some may be too personal, but lets be honest. If I can tell you about my deep seated desire to fuck a sandwich, I can tell you just about anything.

And that goes for all you lurkers out there too. Let's see some questions. There are a fuck of a lot more people reading this than actually take the time to comment, so its high time you made yourself known.

Until later....

Microwave Goodness = Oxymoron?...

It's been about a week, and I still can't get the awful taste of Aunt Jemima's breakfast abortion out of my mouth. I even tried eating a raw onion to overpower the sucktitude of said sandwich. No dice. I thought about setting my tongue on fire, but I'm not sure I want to resort to that level of insanity yet. I'm still debating the finer points of going through life without being able to taste anything, as opposed to tasting nothing but rotten "sausage" patty for another week. Sausage is in quotations because I'm not entirely convinced it was actually meat approved for human consumption. God damn that was an awful sandwich. Have I gotten that point across sufficiently? Good. Let's move on to something much more tasty, and much less "Holy fuck this sandwich is so awful, I want to kill myself".

You should probably know that my microwave gets more use than any other appliance in my apartment. That's if you don't count the steam-powered, pneumatic vagina that resides in my closet. But we're not counting that, are we?

Now don't get me wrong. I can cook. In fact, I'm quite good at it. I just don't like cooking for me and only me, and I live alone. Why spend an hour making dinner when there is no one to impress but myself?

"Wow Kris, this is a great dinner. You've really outdone yourself."

"Why thanks Kris. That's a nice new haircut by the way."

I'm not saying I don't have conversations with myself, but that's generally not one of them. And you all know what a comment whore I am. I need validation dammit, and preferably from someone other than myself. Telling myself how awesome I am kind of feels like a copout after all these years. Also, my 80s movies aren't going to watch themselves, and all those sweet toys on eBay aren't going to bid on themselves for my benefit. I just don't have the time to make big elaborate meals, when the only person I'm impressing is me. For these reasons, a large portion of my diet consists of frozen entrees. Utilizing this "expertise" in microwave dining, I can tell you that about 60% of them are edible, while 35% are so vile, your tongue will shake its fist at you. If it had a fist. Unless it had a mouth, and then it would probably just call you a cunt. Then there's the remaining 5%. This tiny fraction of the total number of frozen entrees on the market always genuinely surprises me. These are the proud, the few, the "holy shit, this actually tastes GOOD!"

Today's entry consists of a frozen sandwich that easily earns its way into the illustrious 5. I'm giving this product a serious recommendation, so check them out if they are carried in your neck of the woods. Keep in mind, they are microwaveable, so don't expect to experience the greatest meal of your life. But as microwaveable food stuffs go, this is THE SHIT. Take a peek....

What you are looking at is a Stouffers Bistro Panini. I chose the Philly Cheesesteak variety, because cheese + steak = 4 levels of delicious. There are other types, some utilizing chicken, but if I see Philly Cheesesteak flavour fucking anything, you better believe I'm buying it. I would chew that shit as bubblegum if the geniuses at Wrigley's would get off their asses and do something about it.

Seriously though, you can't go wrong with beef, cheese, peppers and onions. At least for my tastes. It's alarming the sheer number of food products these days that include mushrooms in the recipe. I'm sure a good portion of you are mushroom lovers, so I don't mean to offend but.....fucking gross, man. Mushrooms are grown on SHIT. Literally. I'm sorry, but there isn't enough soap in the world to make that sound appealing to me. Deluxe frozen pizza? Mushrooms. Alfredo anything? Mushrooms. Beef Stroganoff? Goddamn mushrooms. Cambells Chunky Steak and Potato Soup? FUCKING MUSHROOMS!

But there aren't any mushrooms on you, Philly Cheesesteak Panini, are there? Not a one. Just beef, cheese, peppers and onions. That's the recipe for deliciousness, I don't care who you are. Take another look at the picture. Notice anything? It's actually fucking toasted! In the microwave! I think we need to get the scientists at Stouffers to start working on a cure for cancer, because toasting something in the microwave is fucking impressive. It's not soggy or anything. Color me impressed. Which is a deep shade of purple if I'm not mistaken. But as amazing as it is so far, it would be a small victory to have toasted bread out of the microwave, if the insides taste like ass. And I'm saying that from the point of view of someone that doesn't like the taste of ass. If you like the taste of ass, then you should change the last sentence to "it would be a small victory to have toasted bread out of the microwave, if the insides didn't taste like ass".

Actually, I'm not sure what ass tastes like. I guess I shouldn't knock it until I've tried it, but I don't think I'm ever going to get the urge to eat an asshole, so I stick by my original point. And that is just enough talk of "ass eating" for a post about microwaveable paninis. A little more of that, and we would officially be "overboard".

Anyway....the entire point of that was to say that toasted bread in the microwave is great, but the filling needs to be equally great, otherwise the entire effort is for naught. Naught is a vastly underused word, by the way. Just thought you should know. Here, take a look at the inside....

This thing is as close to looking like the picture on the package, as anything could be. And the taste? Oh my god, it is good. The cheese is abundant and stringy, the beef is flavorful and not overly chewy, and the peppers and onions are just the right level of crisp. If I didn't have an aversion to scalding hot cheese burns, I would happily rub the finished product all over my naked chest as I danced slowly, in a sultry way. I think I have some serious issues...

So if you don't feel like spending more than a couple of minutes cooking dinner tonight, check these out. Probably the best thing I've ever eaten out of the microwave. Not really that impressive of an endorsement I suppose, but I still give it....

4 out of 5 badly veiled sexual connotations

Bon Ape Tit

Aunt Jemima Makes Me a Sad Panda...

My computer lives! And just in the nick of time no less. You see, the last thing I need right now is an angry Ohioian on my tail. Any place (and by proxy, its citizens) that has declared Tomato Juice as it's "Official State Beverage" scares me just a little bit. So without further stalling...



I am not a "morning person" by any stretch of the imagination. Not even a little bit. I fucking hate alarm clocks with a passion that should really only be reserved for history's most heinous villains. My hatred of alarm clocks runs so deep that if I ever make a million dollars, the first thing I'm going to do is buy cases and cases of alarm clocks, just so I can fucking smash one every morning after it brutally wakes me from my peaceful slumber. For this job I will employ a comically over sized wooden mallet, and I will paint racing stripes on it.

I could easily sleep in until noon every day for the rest of my life, without once questioning whether or not I was "wasting the day". Sadly, office jobs rarely offer hours that begin at noon, so I'm forced to violently waken from whichever sweet dream I'm having, every morning at 7 am. Here's a rundown of an average morning in my life.

7 AM: My eyes fly open as the constant ringing from the alarm shocks me awake. Even though I wake up this way 5 days out of 7, my body seems to be genuinely surprised. I roll out of bed.

7:05 - 7:15 AM: Private time. I'll leave that to your imagination. Okay, I take a big shit. Have you ever thought about how difficult it is to sit on a toilet with a huge morning erection going on? Think about it.

7:15 - 7:30 AM: Time to prop myself up against the shower wall and let the water hit me in the face for fifteen minutes. Very little actual washing occurs, as I'm far too lethargic to lift a water heavy wash cloth.

7:30 - 7:55 AM: Check emails and chain smoke.

7:55 - 8 AM: Run out of my apartment in a mad rush as I realize I'm about to be late for the bus. (Seriously, I do this every morning. Fucking learn your lesson already, right?)

My morning ritual should tell you two very basic truths about me.

1. I'm a lazy bastard before my double double has a chance to kick in.
2. A complete breakfast is not a part of my vocabulary

The second point has a particularly nasty side effect. By about 10 AM, my stomach is calling me a huge asshole. And quite vigorously at that. But what am I supposed to do about it, really? Making breakfast is completely out of the question. It just isn't possible. How will I fit in all of the chain smoking if I have to cook on top of everything else? Wake up earlier you say? Quite impossible. I came to accept long ago that my destiny does not cross paths with breakfast often. Probably the reason I enjoy breakfast in the evening so much. But then, on an innocent trip to my local grocer, I spyed this. BEHOLD

A piping hot breakfast croissammich in 2 minutes?!?! I can spare two minutes. And it looks so tasty on the box. That must mean it IS tasty, right?

Hmmm.....is the sausage patty supposed to look that gray and diseased? Well, it doesn't matter what it looks like, right? It's the taste that counts, I rationalized.

Bite #1: I wonder if the croissant is supposed to be this crunchy?

Bite #2: Mmmm...I love mystery chunks of gristle....

Bite #3: Okay, something isn't right here....

Bite #4: I think I loudly proclaimed Aunt Jemima a cunt at this point, but to be fair, my memory is a bit fuzzy.

How could you subject me to this torture you call breakfast, Aunt Jemima? Haven't I always been there for you? I don't care if your syrup is a little more expensive than the generic brand. I stuck by you dammit. And for this, you pissed in my face. Et Tu Jemima....Et tu....

Maybe there is a silver lining though (I'm ever the optimist). Something this awful must be good for me! I can suffer a bit in the name of nutrition and proper dietary habits. I've abused my body pretty badly over the years, so the least I can do is give it a healthy meal every once in a while, regardless of the taste.

Wow. You are a cunt, Aunt Jemima. 350 calories and 23 grams of fat, in one baby fist sized croissant! I could almost eat an entire Big Mac for breakfast at the same fatty expense! You know how to kick a brother when he's down don't you?

FINAL SCORE: 1 out of 5 acts of corporate racism

I guess I'm just doomed to continue eking out a breakfastless existence. It sure as fuck beats waking up 15 minutes earlier....(shudder)

Next....a much more satisfying frozen dining experience....

I'm Holding Out for a Hero...

As the average blogger goes, I am somewhat less than prolific. But I don't have to tell you that, do I? While some people post a bit of writing almost every day, I tend to stick closer to the "once a week" rule of thumb. It's not that I don't have anything to say on a daily basis, but probably that I don't want to wear all of you out. The average person can only handle so much exposure to my bullshit, so I need to be careful not to burn you all out too quickly. I must refrain from blowing my proverbial load, if you will. It's difficult to make a cum reference sound classy, but I think I nailed that one.

Actually, I just lead somewhat of a dull existence, and its tough finding tons of stuff in my day to day adventures that I deem worthy of writing about. And let's be honest, some of the things I've written about are pretty stupid. Imagine the stuff I DON'T write about. Fucking scary.

So it was with some amusement tonight, that I realized I have 4 things I want to talk about. Expect me to be a whole lot more prolific over the next few days.

First up is something that you're either not going to care about at all, or you will consider it "old news". Way to start out with a bang, huh? A co-worker was kind enough to let me borrow his Season One DVDs of the TV show "Heroes". And I fucking love it! At this point, (if you're a fan of the show) you're probably thinking "I was enjoying Heroes 2 years ago! Where the fuck have you been, you loser!"

First off, names hurt.

Secondly, I have a very good reason for not watching the show up until yesterday. I just don't watch a lot of TV. Every now and then I'll catch a certain program, but never with a specific schedule. I've found that I can't live up to the type of commitment required of a weekly television show. Now back when the show was just starting out, it seemed that EVERYONE was watching it. And wanting to talk to me about it.

"DID YOU SEE HEROES LAST NIGHT!?!?!?!"

You could just tell from the ravenous look in their eyes, that they absolutely fucking NEEDED to discuss every little plot point and character revelation with me immediately.

"No, I guess I missed it...."

This was always met with an incredulous stare, followed by an awkward pause.

"Oh......well it was awesome....."

The sheer disappointment of a Heroes fan with no one around to analyze it with. Truly heartbreaking. Obviously, I knew I was missing out on something that could have been great, but I already knew what would happen. I've been down this road before. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me six times...

I would watch an episode or two, and then miss one or two and now I've missed so much story that I don't know what the fuck is going on, and why is that character kissing that other one, they hate each other, and when the fuck did that guy die, and who's that girl and why is she acting like that......

And then I smash my TV. And TVs are expensive, so I tend the avoid the entire scenario in the first place by just not watching it at all. But perhaps I was missing out on something truly special. Sadly, by the time I came to this realization, I had already missed half of the season. FAIL. Better luck next time loser.

Fortunately I have been known, from time to time, to exhibit a wee bit o' craftiness. "That's it! I'll just pick up the DVDs when they come out. Then I'll watch all of the episodes in order! Kris, you sly son of a bitch you..."

And then....I just sort of forgot about it, to be honest with you. It completely dropped off of my radar. The DVDs were released a while ago, and up until yesterday, I still hadn't known the joy of Heroes.

Well, since I received the DVDs yesterday, I have watched 9 episodes. Let that sink in for a minute. Including the 70 minute pilot, that means I've watched a little over 7 HOURS of Heroes in the last 24 hour period. That's fucking crazy! How the hell did I even find the time? Oh, that's right. I decided I needed to know more about Hiro and Peter and Claire, than I needed to sleep. Seriously, this show has me addicted in the worst way. I want to put my arms around it and whisper sweet nothings in its ear. I want to gently spoon with it and make it believe that I'll always be there. I want to slap my cock up against.....wait....sorry about that. Took a disturbing turn there for a second.

Anyone else devoted to the church of Heroes? If you are....DON'T FUCKING SPOIL ANYTHING FOR ME. I will do terrible things to you, while softly singing the following song:

That was the song "Eyes" as performed by Rogue Wave. It's featured in the first and fourth episodes of the show, and like everything else Heroes related, is fucking awesome. I can't get it out of my head. Hopefully now you won't be able to either. You're welcome. I couldn't find an "official" video of the song, so I settled for the weirdest one on YouTube. Hope you like.

Oh, and I may have to go back on my word about the other 3 posts coming over the next couple of days (two "reviews" and something Slurpee related). My computer decided to be an asshole last night and crapped out right in the middle of writing this. If I can get it going over the weekend, new posts will appear, I promise. As it is, I'm finishing this at work, risking getting my ass fired so that you can read about my love of Heroes. God damn I'm dedicated.