Help me....

Hello.....

Hello.....

Is there anyone inside this damn box? I'm not sure how much longer Kris is going to be away, but I know he talks to people on this magic box, so I'm trying to see if anyone is listening. You have to send help immedietly. I'm Kris's grandpappy and I need to get out of here. He's had me trapped for a couple of months, and he doesn't like to feed me. Keeps saying something about wanting me to change my will but I don't know what he's talking about. He drained my dry years ago. He already has it all, and its never enough! I don't know what to do. He refuses to change my diapers, and pays hookers to put in my catheder. But they have penises! I've never heard of such a thing. I'm 95 years old and just want to enjoy my final months without worrying about getting hit for talking out of turn. Is that too much to ask?

So you have to send help. Send it here now. Only problem is that I don't know where I am. I think there is a tree outside, but maybe not. He blindfolded me when he brought me here. Told me he was taking me to a surprise party. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure he's my grandson. He told me he was, but I'm kind of senile. Are you senile if you know you're senile? Now I'm confused.

BANG BANG

Grandpa?! Open this door

Oh dammit. He's home already. I put a chair in front of the door, but he's trying to break it down.

Grandpa.....you don't want to spend the night in the box again, do you? Open the door please. I brought home a trannie to change your catheder.

I don't know what a trannie is, but I bet it has a penis. Please help

CRASH!!!!!!

Okay grandpa, what the fuck? What are you doing? Why are you typing what I'm saying? And those sound effects are just shitty. If you're going to try and report me, do it with some style for fucks sake. Okay play time is over. You know where your box is.

Pray for me. I don't want him to sic the Gremlins on me again.

Hi Heather :p

Call Me SuperKris

I have mad superpowers, yo. I bet you didn't know that about me. But I'm all about sharing and being honest in this, my outlet for soul unburdening and such. I hope you don't mind. Now before you call bullshit or shenanigans on my claim of magical powers, hear me out. Come back in time with me. Back to 15 minutes before now. Now as in my now, as I'm writing this, not your now as in whenever you're reading this which may be a year from my now. Got that? No one ever said time travel was easy.


So let me paint you a picture. Sounds of Black Francis wafted out of my speakers as I rapidly wrote on my computer. And when I say wrote, I mean I was typing. I wasn't drawing all over my monitor with crayons like some crazy person. Now try and get that image out of your head. I was writing about Gremlins, and enjoying myself. The music was great, I was comfortable, and the grape slurpee was mighty tasty. But suddenly I was startled away from my screen by a very unmusical ringing. I would rather listen to Black Francis right now, but it might be important. I reached over and turned the volume all of the way down, so that I could answer the phone.


Kris: Hello

Random Telemarketer: Hello sir. I am calling to see if I can interest you in...

Kris: No thanks

R.T.: But sir, I think that if you go with...

Kris: No, I'm good. Won't be needing any of that

R.T.: But once you've heard....

Kris: Okay, I can see you're not getting this. So I'm going to make it easier for you. There are three things that interest me right now. If your thing is one of these things, let's talk. If not, then no sell. Here it is. Are you ready?

R.T.: Yes sir, but...

Kris: Number one: another grape slurpee, Number two: Sing me a Black Francis song, Number three: talk to me about Gremlins. What do you say? Anything?

R.T.: *click*

Is it me, or do telemarketers just never want to talk about Gremlins? So that was 25 seconds that I wasn't getting back. I reached over to turn my speakers up, but was met only with silence. I cranked it right up and was promptly blasted with a fuck of a lot of noise as a new song started. "Jesus" I thought as I turned the music back down to a listenable level "I turned it up at the exact same moment the songs changed. That's weird" It is kind of weird, but coincidences happen, and I'm sure that's not the first time in the history of the world someone has done that. So I shrugged it off and delved back into the task at hand. I very quickly forgot about the last call as the sweet sounds floated back over me. Damn I love me some Black Francis.


As with most good things, this came to an end rather quickly, as my music bubble was once again shattered by the ringing of the phone. I silently vowed that if this was another telemarketer, I would pretend I was a phone sex operator. Don't ask me why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I once again turned down the music, picked up the phone, and thankfully it was not a telemarketer. It was a good call this time, but I have to keep somethings secret. Jeez, I'm telling you about my superpowers, what more do you want?


I hung up the phone, reached over and turned the volume up. Silence. So I can be kind of stupid at moments. This was one of those. Not remembering what happened only 5 minutes earlier, I cranked the volume right up again, thinking, I don't know, maybe the volume knob will turn the music on. Once again I was blasted in the face with 1000 decibels of rock music. I swatted at the speaker in a vain attempt to quieten the tunes before my landlord started banging on my door. Once I finally managed to get the volume down, it hit me. "I just turned the volume up at the exact moment the songs changed TWICE, in less than 10 minutes...."


In my world, this can mean only one thing. That's right....wait for it... SUPERPOWERS!. I have the power to spontaneously start a CD from the beginning of a song, without having to hit the skip button. Do you realize how much time this will save me? I pity all of you without superpowers. I'll try not to let this new power corrupt me, but its not going to be easy. I'm easily corruptible.

I Have Gremlin Envy...

1984 was a magical year full of highs and lows. Although I guess every year is full of highs and lows, so that's kind of redundant. Let's start over.

1984 was a year like any other, but a year nonetheless. I don't think there is any disputing that. I was a wee lad of only 3 years and as such had only just started smoking. I could also say "motherfucker" like a champ. I was a precocious little guy. You can't argue with the fact that it is hilarious to hear a toddler drop an F bomb. As long as it is not my kids. But this post is to sing the merits of 1984 (and one event in particular, but we'll get to that later), not to expound on the joys of juvenile cursing. So without further ado, let's see what happened in 1984....

1. The first Apple Macintosh goes on sale! A landmark event for nerds everywhere. I think this may even be tantamount to Jesus's second coming, for the computer set.

2. Australians finally get Medicare. Let me get this straight. An island that used to be a prison colony can get Medicare, but the USA still likes to allow insurance companies to decide who lives and who dies? Something seems odd about that.

3. The first MTV video music awards are held! I miss the days when MTV used to show music videos.

4. Ronald Reagan defeats Walter Mondale in the US Presidential election. Actually, mercilessly destroyed Walter Mondale is probably more apt.

5. Crack is introduced to Los Angeles. I know we all remember this, right?

6. Michael Jackson sets his hair on fire while filming a Pepsi ad. They really should have used this footage. Can you imagine that commercial!?!? Michael Jackson moonwalking across a stage while his head is fully engulfed in flames. Cue the huge flashing Pepsi logo. That's advertising gold right there.

But the event that would forever change the world happened on June 8. This is a day that rightfully should be expressed as an international holiday, where we would gather around the fireplace, mug of hot cocoa firmly in hand, and regale our loved ones with stories of how we first experienced this "event". And of course it would be a mandatory paid holiday, because we don't get nearly enough of those. So as if you haven't guessed by now, the event that I am referring to is the release of the greatest movie ever made in the history of the universe. GREMLINS! And if you think I am over exaggerating, you're wrong. This was proven and decided in the late 90's at a press conference in Zurich. Or maybe I just dreamed that. Is it weird that I dream about press conferences proclaiming Gremlins as the greatest movie ever? No, I don't think so either.

So let's delve a little deeper into the film, as a refresher to those of you that haven't experienced the magic in 20 years or so. Do I need to state the obvious and say "Spoiler Warnings" for a film that is 24 years old? If you haven't seen this movie, go and kill yourself now, because you haven't really lived anyway. I'll wait....

Our story begins in the quaint little town of Kingston Falls. Here we meet Randall Peltzer, who by all accounts, is a very shitty inventor. It is these shitty inventions though, that lead him to New York where he meets Mr. Wing. Mr. Wing is your typical Chinese movie stereotype. Full of wisdom and ominous as all hell. Like all other Chinese characters in the history of films he owns an antique shop where no one actually buys anything. Randall is looking for a present for Billy, his loving son, when he happens upon Mr. Wing's ancient dusty shop. Here he finds the perfect gift. A Mogwai. A cute little critter that talks in a voice which is guaranteed to make any woman instantly melt and want to hug and cuddle him. Randall offers Mr. Wing 200 bucks for said mogwai, only to have his generous offer rebuked. What up wit dat, Wing? I understand that Mogwais come with lots of responsibility, but why are you displaying the little fucker if you don't intend to sell him? I guess if Mr. Wing had kept him locked up in the storage room though, we wouldn't have much of a movie, so I digress.

Wing's grandson knows better though. He knows that his grandfather needs that $200, due to the fact that he hasn't made a sale over a hundred years. And before you can say "Ramen noodles", Randall and Mini Wing are making a shady back alley deal for the Mogwai, and the town of Kingston Falls will never be the same. Mini Wing does take the time to dictate three nonsensical rules to keeping a Mogwai.

1. Do not expose it to sunlight. Apparently, Mogwais are part of the vampire family.
2. Do not get it wet. Which always made me think: Mogwais must smell like ass.
3. Do not feed it after midnight. I wonder if they take daylight savings time into account?

Now we meet Billy, who illogically, gets to fuck Phoebe Cates. Little gremlin monsters, that I can believe. But Billy slamming Phoebe Cates, no sir. My suspension of disbelief does not travel that far. Billy means well, but he is kind of an idiot, and it shows. Three little rules to follow, and he can't even get that right. Before you know it, Gizmo (the mogwai) gets water splashed on him, and goes completely spastic. Little clumps of fur start popping off of his back (Gizmo's, not Billy's although that would have been a cool plot twist) and grow into new mogwais. But these Mogwais are decidedly more sinister, and soon trick Billy into feeding them after midnight. Remember, I said Billy isn't too bright. How the fuck do you let a bunch of little stuffed animals trick you, Billy? Really.

And that, my friends, is when the shit really hits the fan. Fried chicken + cute mogwai = evil, scaly, gremlins from hell. And they didn't hold back. These guys weren't just here to cause a little unpleasantness. They were actually killing motherfuckers. And forcing Phoebe Cates to serve them liquor. And watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves! I mean, how evil can you get?

From there, things get worse and worse for the town of Kingston Falls, as the gremlins easily take over and cause all sorts of mayhem and destruction. This is where the movie really shines in my opinion. And not only because I like to see small towns destroyed, although that is pretty great. The evil gremlins are hilarious and every time I see it, I root for them. Sadly, it always ends the same way. The gremlins are destroyed and Billy saves the day. I hate happy endings for the sake of happy endings.

Not so fast! Mr. Wing shows up (conveniently AFTER the gremlins have already been destroyed) and snatches Billy's new best friend Gizmo, effectively shattering our happy ending. And then to add insult to injury, he slams the entire western civilization, by saying we're not ready to handle the responsibility of raising a Mogwai. Well maybe not Billy, but lets not lump all of us into that category of douchebaggery. Stereotyping is wrong Mr. Wing. I thought you were better than that.

So one of the things that I love most about this movie is the way people have remembered it over the years. 9 out of 10 people will happily remember this movie as "the one with the cute little teddy bear that drives a little toy car". While that description fits to a point, it is also a movie about sadistic demented monsters who will go out of their way to fuck your shit up. The movie is actually quite a bit darker than a lot of people tend to remember it, and I love that about it. Remember this speech from Phoebe Cates' character?

"The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn't home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That's when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He'd been climbing down the chimney... his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that's how I found out there was no Santa Claus."

Remember, this is a film that was marketed primarily towards kids. Not only do they reveal the truth about Santa Claus, they do it in an anecdote involving the grisly death of a loved one. You're a genius Joe Dante. Except for Looney Tunes: Back in Action. What the fuck was that about, Joe?

So when was the last time you watched Gremlins? If it has been longer than 2 years, you need to rectify that immediately. I tried to do that last week, and realized that some asshole had stolen my copy. I don't know when, but I do know that this movie was definitely in my collection. And now it is not. And I am sad. You know what this means, right?

QUEST FOR GREMLINS!!!!

But not this post, because I've already wasted enough of your time today. Stay tuned....

A Lesson in Proper use of the English Language

No time to write a real entry today, so I thought I would give you something to stare at instead. This video sums up my feelings to a "T". So by watching it, you can feel a little closer to me! That way we're all winners. I'm not sure how, but that sentence needed closure.

Enjoy, and oh yeah, probably not safe for work....Or if you have small children hanging around your computer right now.

Mmmmmm......Nuggets.....

So here I am, sitting at home, trying my absolute best to ignore this insatiable craving I'm getting deep down in the pit of my stomach. I've tried yelling at my stomach, punching it, calling it names and even reverse psychology, but nothing seems to work. Sometimes it wants what it wants. Now usually I'm not one to argue with my body's cravings. You see, the last thing I want is to make my body angry, lest it subject me to all sorts of unpleasantness. My body is kind of an asshole like that, and it won't hesitate to make me suffer if I don't heed its call. But tonight is different. Tonight my body is craving Chicken McNuggets from McDonalds, and there is no way in hell I am going through fast food purgatory again so soon (see last post). If I have to enter a fast food joint again so soon after the last encounter, I WILL kill somebody. And how will I unload all of this bullshit from my head if I am rotting away in a prison cell with no Internet access? No, no, no, that just won't do. As you can see, I am in a tough position. Do I ignore my body, and anger it to the point where it decides to spontaneously grow a tumor? Or do I give in, possibly commit murder, and spend the next 25 years banging on my cells bars and screaming "IT WASN'T ME DAMMIT. IT WAS THE STOMACH I TELLS YA!!"?

Luckily, this problem does have a solution, and like most of life's problems the solution is EBAY! Thanks to the miracle of 1993 science I can enjoy Chicken McNuggets without the need for murder! I bet you didn't think that was possible, but that's what I'm here for. To entertain and educate. Call it educainment. Or don't. Whatever.

Okay, so calling them Chicken McNuggets may be a wee bit generous, but work with me here! I'm trying to prove a point. There isn't really any chicken involved, but I think you'll agree that this is a good thing. Considering it has been sitting on a shelf somewhere for the last 15 years, chicken would be a very bad idea. But sacrifices must be made and we continue....

Here is our majestic creature in its natural state (i.e. washed and assembled....yes I washed it. I may be stupid, but I'm not a dumbass). Oh the anticipation! Within a few minutes I would either be completely satisfied, or vomiting uncontrollably. It's like Russian Roulette with old toys. Fun! Come along while we explore the task of preparing homemade McNuggets. We'll laugh, we'll cry, we may even learn something.....about ourselves....oooooooooooo. Overly dramatic you may think? You're probably right, but whatever. I'm enjoying myself.

The first step is to prepare our coating mixture. Using the included scoop, pour a small amount of "crisped rice cereal" into the hopper. Then simply grind the cereal into powder by cranking the purple handle. I thought about using Rice Krispies, but I'm no sellout. I will not give in to the pressure of product placement in blogs. At least not for free....

Step two is to fill the dipping receptacle with honey mixture (half honey and half water). Am I the only one who thinks its gross that honey is essentially insect regurgicant? I mean think about it! Bees suck up the nectar, chew it and digest it for awhile, and then spit it into the combs......that's fucking gross! I think we should all be a little more wary of what we're spreading on our toast. I'm just saying.

Step three! Press the shaper firmly into a slice of bread to load and insert into the machine. The instructions stipulated that I use Wonder Bread, and even went so far as to supply me with a coupon for 55 cents off the purchase of two loaves. Ofcourse the coupon expired in 1994, so any incentive to follow the directions was lost. I substituted my favorite brand and never looked back.

Now we get to magic time. In goes 3 misshapen lumps of white bread.....press the handle and poof!

Out comes.....3 slightly formed lumps of white bread.....Can you believe it? If technology this spectacular was available way back in 1993, surely we can't be too far off from the flying car, can we? I want my flying car dammit.

Step four tells us to gently dunk the "nugget" into the insect regurgicant. Make sure you allow the excess bee vomit to drip off. Because a little bit is okay. Then transfer it to the crushed cereal and crank the handle once again to coat thoroughly. Don't half ass it either. It's important to take pride in your work.

And TA DA!

You very own homemade chicken mcnugget. And think, it only cost the equivalent of about 100 real nuggets. Spectacular. And now onto Step 5.

CONSUME! It all came down to this. My stomach wasn't going to take anymore. It had been screaming at me for nuggets for the last hour or so, and was at its limit. Any more hesitation would be met with angry gurgles of defiance, and that's just not pleasant. I slowly raised the "nugget" to my lips, murmured the lord's prayer and tossed caution to the wind. I chewed slowly at first, taking in all of the flavors that only 3 ingredients can provide. It was then that I came to a realization.

It's like there's a party in my mouth, and everyone's invited. The only problem is that everyone is also throwing up. And I'm not 100% sure, but I think a homeless guy just shit on my couch. Bleghghghghgh!!!!. I spit half chewed "nugget" all over my shiny new McNugget maker. Take that, you evil piece of licenced merchandise. I don't understand how its possible for such seemingly harmless ingredients to come together and form the evil nugget of fucking grossest thing ever (patent pending). It must be the honey. If you take a moral away from this, it is DON'T TRUST THE HONEY.

So now my stomach is angrier than ever, I have spit up ball of evil all over my Nugget maker, and I'm out like 20 bucks from Ebay. Fuck it, I'm going to McDonalds. I'll write you from prison.

Added Bonus.....here's how you can make your own edible ball of evil in your very own home. You don't need no fancy McDonalds Nugget maker. Here's what you do:

1. Take a piece of bread and smoosh it all up in your bare hands, until you're left with a hand sweat moist ball of yeasty bread-like substance.

2. Pour honey all over. To ensure you don't miss any spots, pour honey everywhere. You're only doing it right if you make a big mess.

3. Now crush up some rice cereal in your hands and throw it at the ball. Make sure some sticks.

4. Shove the whole mess in your mouth and eat it.

It's just that easy! Sounds tasty, no?

Bon Apetit! (mwah)