Six Baths is Quite Enough, Samwise Gamgee.

Quick little post, given that I have to get to bed, as I'm leaving for the Cubs game in about eight hours. There are few things on this earth that are quite so great as seeing baseball at Wrigley Field. I very nearly didn't get to go; however, the entirety of my family turned my father down when he asked last weekend, so upon hearing this, I turned to him and said, "But father! What of me, your only begotten son!" knowing full well that my brother was sitting some ten feet away. Regardless, I'm going to see the Cubs tomorrow at Wrigley.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand, I now present today's link of the day, which seems to be some sort of bastardized cross between the abridged screenplays of the Editing Room, the IRC Bible and the Very Secret Diaries of the Fellowship of the Ring. As such, I give you teh F3ll0wsh1p of teh R1ng!

Gandalf has logged on as admin
Frodo has been kicked from The Shire
Sam has been kicked from The Shire


AIM: therbmcc71

Get Your Broadband Going For Today's Media Frenzy!

This post has been edited twice today for additional content. -Mgmt.

Now, I absolutely adore the Zelda game for the Gamecube, because I'm a sucker for good cel-shaded 3D (it looks like a cartoon, but it's 3D), so I just about fell out of my chair when I watched the trailer for an Anime movie called Appleseed, which came out in Japan back in April. I guess it's a remake of the 1988 Anime of the same name, bu this one looks just fucking awesome.

Watch the trailer, and then do what I did and watch it another three times, because it's just that damn good. If those ass-clowns at Square had any idea what they were doing, they would've made the Final Fantasy movie look at least this cool. And it's from the writer of Ghost In The Shell, which gives the whole project ungodly amounts of legitimacy and promise.

--
Edit! ... Later in the day: I have seen the worst music video of all time, and I have some *cough* doubt of its legitimacy as being an actual video.. This video is the Batman & Robin of music videos, by a dude named Zlad. ... Yes, his name is Zlad, and he's out of an eastern-European country named Molvania, which is actually the birthplace of whooping cough. Here's a link to Elektronic-Supersonik, which you should watch as soon as possible, since I don't know how long the link will last. ... And then you will probably have to wash out your eyes with mace.

Backup link to Elektronik-Supersonik in a smaller size here.

Lyrical Excerpt:
Hey, love crusader, I want to be your space invader.
For you, I would descend the deepest moon-crater.
Eyes more stronger than Darth Vapor.

Yes, I know I said Darth Vapor. Go watch, and then comment below.
--

Edit Redux! ... Innocence, the sequel to Ghost in the Shell will be hitting American theaters sometime late this summer. Having watched the Japanese trailer for the movie, I have to say that I'm quite excited. I know that probably none of you speak Japanese, least of all myself, but the animation itself is at least on par with Appleseed, though Innocence is largely hand-drawn with some computer-generated work for various shots. Go to the Innocence site here and watch the Japanese trailer. Sure, it's long, and even I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I just got lost in the animation, so just try to do that and then comment. Comment, dammit!



AIM: therbmcc71

Funniest Thing I Thought Yesterday

Okay, with the exception of some of the things I said during the, "You're right, sweetie; Laura is a crazy bitch-ho" section of the evening, I thought one truly funny thing yesterday, which the aforementioned sweetie didn't find funny in the least, and there are two reasons why this is possible; though neither of those changes the fact that it's a joke in the classic form of setup and punchline with no filler:

I was stopped at a stoplight today, and I saw one of the new Thunderbirds and said to myself, "That car is sexy like Gina Gershon." I asked myself why I said that, and concluded, "Because it'll never be mine, but I'd really like to take a ride in it anyway."

Yeah, so you can see why she didn't find it funny. Note to self: Don't tell girlfriends funny thoughts about wanting to take a ride in Gina Gershon.


AIM: therbmcc71

It Was Funny At The Time

I thought of this around ten o'clock tonight while at the karaoke bar (and I've been spending quite a bit of time at the bars of late, which is largely why I haven't been posting; the fact that I've nothing witty to say of late happens to be the rest of the reason). I mean, seeing how I didn't celebrate the 60th anniversary of D-Day at all, I might as well post it here for your historical education.

Why was it funny? You would have had to have been sitting in my brain to associate the six degrees of separation.

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS ALLIED EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!

You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely.

But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-rnan. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory!

Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.

Dwight D. Eisenhower


AIM: therbmcc71

You Are A Cruel and Vengeful God, But Not Without an Innate and Admirable Sense of Comical Irony.

Disclaimer: Chalk all factual errors up to either artistic-interpretation or artistic-intoxication, as the case may be. Thank you. -Mgmt.

So, in a move of parliamentary procedure, I now suspend the rules to allow me to talk about my personal life, since last night turned into an Emmy-winning episode of the sitcom that is my life. That I consider the Emmys about as legitimate an award as the Grammys, the People's Choice Awards or the Soul Train Music Awards is beside the point.

Now, what I should do is write it out as an actual script, which really only works if you know the characters, which is why I get confused every time I see a rerun of Just Shoot Me, since I never watched it the first time around. So, it's unfortunate that it can't stand on the merits of the dialogue alone, but the last scene is absolutely hysterical after the deflation of Dan The Man's ego is turned on its ear, suddenly becoming ridiculous in a Seinfeld "Dolores!" kind of way.

So, in order to make things clear, we have myself, who is known at the bar as Mickey or Herb, neither of which is my real name; Bob the forty-something laid-off married guy wearing a Metallica t-shirt; English Jon, who manages to somehow pick up all the women his mother has ever tried to set me up with, since I seem to be the Rhoda to English Jon's Mary Richards; Stephanie the new waitress; Trish the bartender; Dan The Man, who looks just like the bald guy from Mr. Show and knows even more about horror films than I do; and then we have the Object of Dan's Affection and the Guy She Walked In With. There's a few other characters, but they really don't function as such, since they don't have any funny lines.

So there we all are at the bar, seated around our regular corner: (from left) Dan The Man, English Jon, Bob, and myself. Levels of intoxication: (from left) Two sheets to the wind, one sheet to the wind, soaked to the gills, one sheet to the wind. Dan The Man is rather taken by a girl at a nearby table, that she is sitting with the guy she walked in with is of no import to Dan. He (Dan) contemplates his move while continuing to drink (his first mistake); that he's planning to put the mack on this already-accompanied girl are mistakes two and three; two being obvious and three being the fact that he used the phrase "put the mack on" in the year 2004.

This, of course, sets our Comedy of Errors in motion as Bob points out the new waitress, who has apparently been looking in our direction. Bob assumes she's looking at him, Dan The Man assumes she's looking at him, and I assume she's looking at English Jon, citing the example of the redheaded British girl from a few weeks prior who must have been absolutely insane for pursuing an already-accompanied English Jon that night rather than pursuing a very single me, who had enlisted the assistance of English Jon's mother to guide her toward the brilliant healing light of all that is holy, also known as myself. I point out the insanity of this British girl, to which English Jon responds that she is his new girlfriend. Oops.

So Dan The Man -despite protests from myself and English Jon, who believe it's foolish to chase after an accompanied girl, going so far as to call Dan The Man an idiot- concocts whatever master plan of separating the girl from the guy she's with and goes about his attack. Bob, meanwhile, goes to talk to the new waitress, despite the fact that he's married, taking with him the confidential knowledge of my actual first name that I'd only told him moments before. English Jon, who also knows my first name, buys shots of Tequila Rose for himself and Bob, which -by law- means the shot defaults to me.

So there's Bob over yonder and Trish the bartender walks over with my third Long Island of the night and asks why Bob's over there talking to the waitress. English Jon says Bob thinks she fancies him and Trish says, "No, she likes Mickey." I immediately let out a slight shriek and nearly choke to death on my Long Island which I'd been drinking at the time. This puts one of my already-active neuroses into overdrive and all of a sudden I've turned into Richard Lewis's worst nightmare.

A Brief Rundown of My Neuroses, as applicable to the situation at hand:
(1) Women are not attracted to me. Those who are must be crazy.
*** Corrolary: All women are crazy, but not all women are attracted to me.
(2) When confronted with a situation such as this, I begin stuttering and acting aloof, like virtually any Hugh Grant Character, but not in a cute, funny or charming kind of way.
(3) This waitress looks a great deal like the girl I took to my friend Jessica's wedding. That did not end well. By such association, this is the neurosis that has taken over my brain, saying, "Flee! Run like the wind!"

As such, you can imagine what happens when Bob goes to the restroom and she (the waitress) comes over to talk to me. I'm actually not sure if that high-pitched whine was the air-conditioner or me, but my capacity for conversation at the time was quite impaired, though it may have been the fact that I had just managed to consume a twelve-ounce Long Island Iced Tea in about thirty seconds. To say that I was brief or curt doesn't do either term justice, since I believe my replies to her queries were fractions of words, the remainder of my brain flashing warning-lights and telling me to scramble the bombers.

Might I add that Bob told her my real name, which she uses to address me, at which point the now-drunk English Jon yells, "Tom! His name is Tom!" for everyone to hear. I let out another shriek as the well-kept five-year secret of my real name is no longer a mystery, and I'm expecting to see on the bar's marquee,

50 Cent Tacos!
Mickey's Name Is Tom! Mystery Solved!
Thursday Karaoke

Not shockingly, the waitress has had enough of me, and goes back to her seat to talk to one of the other waitresses. Bob, who went to talk to the bar-manager goes back to keep talking to her, which is clearly annoying her. English Jon, who was at least as intoxicated as myself at this point, slurs, "Wha' the fuck are you doing?!" At this point I'm finally getting past the whole stuttering thing and inform him that I've been on three dates in four years, of which only one went remotely well, until you factor in that she moved to Florida the following week. Of course, English Jon has heard me complain about all of this before.

English Jon says I should write her a note, and so I scribble out the only kind of note I'm remotely capable of writing at that point, as my brain has reverted to the fourth-grade level. The note says something along the lines of: Would you like to come back over? (check box) Yes/No." English Jon is appalled by this horrific display of how bad I am with women, and grabs a napkin and pen, then starts scribbling out a note. I spend the next ten minutes editing and recopying the note, going so far as to add a slight against Bob for good measure. The note meets with English Jon's approval and is given to Trish the bartender to act as courier, which she covertly did for English Jon when he slipped the British girl a note while he was at the bar with his then-girlfriend a few weeks prior.

So the note is received and immediately a response is written, given to Trish and delivered. The gist of the note states that I was less than attentive, but she'll be heading over shortly. I let English Jon and Trish read the note, since they've already read the first one anyway, and we all come to the conclusion that it's not an overly bad note to get, per se. Mind you, I'm rather drunk at this point, and so it's only when I read the note that I actually get this girl's name, since I missed it when she was actually talking to me, as all I heard at that moment were the shrieking violins from the movie Psycho.

Given the intervening moment, I notice that Dan The Man has given up on his quest for the girl at the nearby table, being unable to get her away from the guy she came in with and finally taking the advice of English Jon and myself to quit trying, and is leaving with a small pizza. Dan The Man is completely hammered and is going to be carried aloft to his home across the street by the beer-fairies; that he was able to cross the four lanes of Route 34 and make it safely home is either a genuine miracle or proof of the benevolence of the beer-fairies.

The waitress comes back over and we chat briefly and go back to her table, as she didn't want to leave the other waitress with Bob, who immediately starts grilling me with trivia questions about Metallica, which I could answer in my sleep. I get roped into karaoke at the Cantina the following night; the Cantina being the hangout for eveyrone from my high school that I didn't like.

Finally, we're all on our way out the door and the waitress asks where Dan The Man went. English Jon says, "He got fed up with trying to separate that girl from her boyfriend. I mean, you just don't hit on a girl in front of her boyfriend! So we finally convinced him to just give up and quit trying."

The waitress says, "Oh, that guy was her brother, not her boyfriend."


AIM: therbmcc71