Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Bible

Sos I was thinkin' about Tha Bible yesterday. I tried callin' Tom to let him in on my thinks but we was both kinda busy, so I guess thats what the internets are for.

They say Tha Bible is the best-selling book of all time, right? Well I was thinkin about that statistic an' I think that even though its probably true there are probably factors that give The Bible unfair advantages.

Foist: The Bible has been around longer than like, any other book, ever. First in print, probably the only book in print, too, for a hella long time as well. Gave it a head start.

Second: Like a million versions of it exist. Every time some guy thinks "man, I don't like the stuff the priest says I can't do. I think I'll start my own, slightly different, religion" he re-writes the thing so that it leaves out the part he didn't like. Example: every bible since the King Henry VIII Bible has left out the passage about not marrying, divorcing, and either killing or imprisoning more than a half-dozen women, while every bible before it keeps that part in.

Third: People each end up owning like six of 'em. I can think of maybe two or three books that I have more than one of, and in every case it is because I lost a copy, got a new one, and then found the lost one (this always, always happens). However, I must have like six or seven Bibles, zero of which I went out and purchased of my own accord. Baby's First Bible, X-treem Bible for Teens, like three little New Testaments, Some Other Bibles that I took home from Sunday School ten years ago and never brought back. I never read them, I keep them all in the same place, and they are probably all based on teh same version of the thing, so it isn't like if I got in a Bibel analyzing mood they would be any help.

Thats all I got.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Tom Cruise Goes to Norfolk

As my good friend, Tom Cruise pointed out the other day; I was in freakin’ Norfolk, Virginia all last week for work. It freakin’ sucked. So fuckin’ hot, but at least the work was cool. My job is to pretty much to go on big fuckin’ boats and make sure that certain things don’t blow up until we want them to.

“But, Tom, just how big are these huge fuckin’ boats you’re talking about?” I imagine you asking your computer screen in the greatest freakin’ display of ignorance re: the internet since Ted Stevens was a senator. Well, let me give you a comparison, my dear, technically inept reader.

You know the Chrysler Building in fuckin’ Manhattan, third tallest building in New York? Each supercarrier is longer than that fuckin’ building is tall, 250 feet wide, and from top to bottom it’s as tall as a fuckin’ 24 story building. This big freakin’ boat has a crew living in it that’s bigger than the population of fuckin’ Powell, Wyoming. The smallest ship I was on was only 450 feet long, which, by the way is almost half as long as that fuckin’ Chrysler Building is tall. So, yeah, big fuckin’ boats.

So, following is what I did all week, as good as I can remember, anyway.

Sunday:

My boss picks me up at home and drives me and his freakin’ secretary to Norfolk. Fuckin’ weird, right? Four hour drive. It sucked, but the boss tells us more about the ships and stuff, so I guess I learned something, whatever. Checked into the hotel, got my shit together, went to bed.

Monday:

Up at like 5:30, did I mention going to bed after midnight. Yeah, it sucked. Fuckin’ Mickey D’s for breakfast. Got onto the USS Harry S Truman (Supercarrier), made sure that some new equipment would fit in the boat. It did. Wrote down some potential problems, went back to the hotel. Nap. Had Mongolian freakin’ barbeque for dinner, which was new. Not great. I’d rather just eat freakin’ Chinese. Accidentally ordered a porno back at the hotel. Seriously. It was an accident, I hit “order” instead of “back to menu.” Swear to fuckin’ God. I called to cancel it, but they didn’t allow that shit at the front desk, so I watched some of the terrible acting, got bored and watched Night at the Museum instead.

Tuesday:

Slightly later start, but I got to bed earlier, so not as bad. Mickey D’s again. Back on the freakin’ Truman again to help with the planning phases of another weapon system, this time with the group of guys who are designing a missile. I’m sure they were nice guys, but there was this one freakin’ douchebag retired Army Sergeant Major who kept asking such retarded questions. And apparently he get’s confused by the fact that fixing things on the ship is different from fixing broken shit on land. Then we took the whole group to a smaller boat, a destroyer (500 feet long) where the fuckin’ Sergeant Major type got to figure out that some boats have storage restrictions. Imagine that. Ass. Olive Garden for dinner. I know it’s not high quality Italian, but damnit, Olive Garden is still pretty good.

Wednesday:

Didn’t have to leave the hotel until like one, so sat around watching HBO and the Discovery Channel. Went out to one of the amphibious assault ships (830 ft), and took a freakin’ shitload of pictures of an emergency set up for using elevator shafts when the elevator isn’t working. It worked alright. Needs one of the intended pieces of equipment altered and they gotta get rid of those fuckin’ folding ladders for when the ship is underway, but not bad. Stopped at freakin’ Dairy Queen on the way back. Got back to the hotel late.

Thursday:

Checked out at the hotel. Sat outside an armory sweating for a coupla hours while a tech guy scanned the inside. He came up with a full 3D model, like a video game. It was pretty fuckin’ awesome. Got in the car, stopped at Dairy Queen again (food tasted like shit) and came home. I slept the whole freakin’ way.

Monday, again:
I’m most of the way through my day at work, and I’m not still not fuckin’ ready for my normal routine. Fuck.

To answer Tom's Questions:

I am not in the feakin' Navy, I just work for them.

The supercarrier is the only kind of carrier we have, smartass. Every fuckin' carrier that's curently in use by the US is a Nimitz style supercarrier. The fuckin' Enterprise is even bigger than the others. And yeah, it could fit a shit ton of fuckin' busses if it weren't used to haul killer airplanes.

Yeah, the shitter is called the "head," but that's not what makes the Navy look like a bunch of queers, the fuckin' Village People song does that.

Never had the food.

No mermaids, but I got a number from the waitress at Olive Garden.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Inglorious Basterds

So I seen Inglorious Basterds, Tarintino's new flick, last night on opening night. Midnight showing, natch.


Kicked fuckin' ass. Like unbelievable. Tarintino just doesn't give a shit, and I say that in a good way. Like sometimes you go to a movie and you know how it's gonna end: Titanic, fuckin' boat's gonna sink; Passion, Jesus Dies; ditto with the big monkey in King Kong. So like three quarters of the way through Basterds you think: "No way these guys are gonna succeed with their plan to blow up a movie theater in which all of the top Nazis, plus Hitler, are watching a propaganda flick, cause' that shit certainly didn't happen for reals."

Fuck that. Tarintino, as previously stated, doesn't give a shit about things not happening like they did for reals. IRL a squad of pissed off Jews were not dropped into France under the leader of a half-Apache Jew to go buckwild and scalp as many Krauts as they could, and we didn't question that part of the premise, did we?

Basically what I'm sayin is this movie contains a scene in which we are treated to THREE DIFFERENT SHOTS of Hitler getting MACHINE GUNNED plus a whole lot of Nazi generals and fucking Goering and Goebels and shit betting blowed up. Oh, and Brad Pitt* fucking carves goddamned Swastikas into the head of any Nazi he doesn't have Eli Roth beat the heads of in with a baseball bat.

Mind you this is Eli Roth in a role in which the Nazis have (in their pant-shitting terror) nicknamed him "The Bear Jew". Fucking amazing.

Many of the typical Tarintino stars return in voice over cameos: Samuel L. Jackson does some narrating, and Harvey Keitel is a voice-only radio conversation as Brad Pitt's boss.

This shit was basically so off the fucking hook you wouldn't believe it. If you like things that are awesome, or hate Nazis, or just fuckin' want to have a good time and don't mind a little gore (you literally watch some people get fuckin' dismembered, and we see Brad Pitt carve one of those Swastikas into a forehead like for reals with no Reservoir Dogs style cut away) then see this fuckin' movie. If you're a pussy or a grandparent, go see.... I dunno, something that sucks.

Cruise Rating: Nine out of Ten Motherfuckers.




*Between this, Fight Club, and nailing the shit out of Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt is pretty much the coolest motherfucker in the goddamned world who isn't named Tom Cruise, is all I'm sayin. If only he hadn't let her saddle him with a million fuckin' adopted third world orphans. I don't care how hot she is, man, why you got to do a thing like that?

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Tom Cruise Status

Fuck, so like Tom is down in fuckin Virginia doin some Navy* shit this week. I figured I'd point that out here in case anybody was wondering.

Tom is gonna be doin shit on the superdefuckinduper carrier Truman this week, so I have some nautical type fuckin questions about that shit for him to answer when he gets his ass back online.

  • Why a superfuckincarrier? Isn't a regular carrier like big enough? I seen the Enterprize. Motherfucker could hold like, a shit ton of MTA busses on it.
  • Isn't a bathroom on a boat called a head? Doesn't this kinda work against the Navy trying to not look like a bunch of queers? Buncha dudes "in the head".
  • Is the food on a boat good?
I apparently do not have as many questions about boats as I thought I did. Try to fuck a mermaid while you're there, Tom.









*Motherfucker is not, as far as I know, in the Navy.

Movies with Fuckin' Tom Cruise

One time, my father said to me "Tom, movies are a series of still images displayed rapidly in succession so as to create the appearance of motion, that are fun to watch. With like explosions and shit. Films, on the other hand, are the same kinda moving-picture thing that are fucking boring, but if you pretend to like one sometimes you can get laid."

Pretty fuckin smart, huh? Especially that part about how you can get laid maybe if you pretend to like boring shit. That works for other boring shit too, fellas.

Anyway, I like movies. They're fuckin fun, and hell sometimes you can get a real slut to go down on you during one, and I bet nobody every got head watching The Notebook with like a grandma three seats away. I like movies, and I figured that since fucking cool as shit Inglorious Basterds is gonna come out I'd talk about it. About like, a bunch of movies that I like, even ones that aren't new, like The Godfather or Raging Bull or The Godfather Part II.

So, uh, look for posts about fuckin movies and shit comin up.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Beach Weekend

The beach was fuckin' awesome this weekend. Bitches, hoes, and sluts all in full effect. Hit tha bars with my boys, then kicked ass Saturday before heading otu for round two Saturday night. Yours truly was wingmaning like a master, If I'd a been Maverick, Goose would still be alive today and banging out more goslings with his wife.

I'd go into more detail, but you know the saying: What Happend In Fucking Dewey Beach On Atlantic Cup Weekend Stays At Dewey Beach On Atlantic Cup Weekend. Bitches.

Oh yeah, good ways to pass the time at 3am if youre back at the hotel for a sausage festival: RC Cars. If you know what the fuck I mean.

Friday, August 14, 2009