Saturday, May 15, 2010

A Movie And A Frog

Van Canto---Tribe Of Force


MoTW---Frat Party

Gotta apologise first for taking three weeks before posting something
new. Don't know why that happened, maybe it's the weather and working on
the lawn and shit like that, or I was just lazy. Either way, it won't
happen again, at least until the next time it happens.

WIth that out of the way, let's discuss this week's MoTW, now officially
known as the third worst movie of all time, behind those Charlie's
Angels movies.

If you have 90 minutes to waste, check it out. Really. However, it's not
a "so bad it's good" type of movie, it's just really, really, REALLY
fucking bad.

I don't know, but little things bugged me about this movie. One of those
was the lead actor's hair. What the fuck was up with that? Maybe it's a
new hair rage thing, but I just don't see it lasting or why anyone would
want hair like that.

Let's see, what else....ahh yes. The massage scene. The focus issue. In
focus then out of focus. In focus and then out of focus. I thought I was
stoned and the remembered my supplier was "indisposed" so I was straight
and sober.

And then shit starts happening and I remember that I was part of this
movie about 25 years ago when it was called "Bachelor Party". Scene of a
tennis court? Check. Send the ex to cause the hero to mess up at the
party so he doesn't get to marry the girl? Check. Have a chance to have
sex with a hot chick in a special room designed just for that? Check.
And I'm sure there's more which I'm plain forgettin'.

The lead was actually a dick when you think about it (but please don't).
Someone who deserves to be garroted just for the hell of it. That's just
the character he played. The actual person, well, if he never acted in a
movie again, especially with that fucking hair, we'd all be better
because of it.

If there's one redeeming quality about the "movie" it's the lead
actress. Not a stunning beauty (like me) but she grows on you. And I've
seen her somewhere before, but where? This is where the laziness comes
in because I haven't checked IMDB or anywhere else on the internet since
I really don't care. But now I do, so I'll have to check I suppose.

So, to steal from the late, great Joe Bob Briggs: 1/4 star. Stephen says
check it out. (won't go into the naked booby count, etc. since some
things are sacred.

With that out of the way, let's get into the meat of this column, and
that's about my aforementioned lawn care, or mowing as us older folks
like to call it.
We've got frogs hopping around. LIttle frogs, some tiny, that just hop
and hop and hop, just having a grand old time, checking shit out and
hopping around some more.

I do everything possible to make sure I don't run over the frogs when
cutting the grass, but that's almost impossible since I can't spot every
tiny thing. I'm sure there have been casualties, and for that I am truly
sorry.

When I do see a frog hopping madly away from the mower, I stop and make
sure it gets to a freshly mowed patch of grass or completely off the
lawn and in the gardens or bushes. Then I continue on with my chore.

I'm sure the lore of the mower has been passed down to each new brood of
frogs so they can be aware of what to listen and watch for. I'm also
sure they know when I'm going to cut the grass so they all gather in
some safe place and have some tea and biscuits until I'm done.

So they've been studying my habits these last few years and found that I
cut the grass in the late afternoon, since that's when I usually wake
up. Which they wouldn't know unless there's a party of frogs studying my
moves inside the house which would be kind of weird.

Anyway, they got my schedule figured out so they know that the morning
time is a good time to take the wife and kids out for a nice adventure
in the grass.

Except this morning that was not to be since I got a hair up my ass and
decided to cut the grass early since that would leave me the rest of the
day to sleep and drink copious amounts of alcohol.

Everything was going fine this morning until I saw some movement and
there was a frog hopping frantically away from the approaching
lawnmower. Gentleman that I be, I paused my mowing so it could get in a
safe place but then it dawned on me that something was wrong because
there was only one. Where was his lovely wife, Maggie, and youngster,
Timmy?

I pondered this for a few minutes and figured this is what happened:

It was a nice morning, temps in the 50's, dew o the grass. Walter thinks
it's a good time to take Maggie and Timmy out for a hop since exercise
is so good.

Birds are chirping, the human is smoking but not near enough to cause
any alarm. That's good. Come Timmy! Look at that nice patch of grass!

Ahhhh, Maggie. This is the life! It's the weekend, we're all together
and the whole world is ours to explore and do other froggy things!!

Oh-oh. What's that sound? Is it the huge thing with blades that have
taken the lives of many of our clansmen? Nah. It's morning. The human
wouldn't dream of doing any work in the morning.

Go ahead Timmy! Explore some more! We're right here!

This is so relaxing! Let me sit here and close my eyes for a
minute.......

OH MY GOD! IT'S COMING RIGHT AT US! RUN, TIMMY, RUN!

IT'S TO LATE! IT'S SUCKED UP TIMMY!

MAGGIE? MAGGIE! IT'S COMING STRAIGHT FOR Y.....

IT SUCKED UP MAGGIE! YOU STUPID HUMAN MOTHERFUCKER! YOU ARE GOING TO
DIE! I WILL KILL YOU IF THAT'S THE LAST FUCKING THING I DO ON THIS
FUCKING EARTH YOU BIG PILE OF HUMAN SHIT!

Oh-oh. I better go.

Again, I'm truly sorry frog. If it makes you feel any better, you can
attack the woman anytime, anyplace. I don't mind.

COMING NEXT: Another block party?

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