Below The Belt

I used to hear about this athlete or that athlete being removed from the roster due to a groin injury. I never really understood what all that injury involved, but regularly thought that the athlete was being a primadonna. That the injury really wasn't that bad. That with a little bit of TLC, the slugger could lace up his skates or cleats and jump right back into the swing of things. I thought that all they had to do was "man up" and walk off their injury. Holy crap, was I in for a rude awakening.

It would seem that the "Powers That Be", the gods of professional athleticism, have heard enough of my blasphemy and graced me with the very same injury that I've mocked others with for so long. Anyone who knows me, can testify that throughout my shitty, yet distinguished life, I've have suffered through a great many injuries. I've had a few surgeries, one that left me quite disfigured. And other injuries that probably should have hurt more than they did. I can assure all readers, that despite my grocery list of "who's who" injuries, I've not had to deal with the level of discomfort I am feeling with regards to this personal injury, which I acquired yesterday at work.

The day had begun like any other day. My co-hort, Mr. G_____ was not in, as he had other engagements to tangle with. I'd come into the main office, clicked on my computer, then went to the warehouse to turn on the lights and unlock the back door. As I approached the front office, I was about 15 feet from the door that divides the two rooms of the building when I heard the telephone ring. If you don't answer it right away, it goes to voice mail, which can be a pain in the ass sometimes, so I picked up my pace to beat the ringer. That's when my foot caught the corner of a rug that, to this day I can't figure out it's purpose by that door. Instead of a little hop and a skip, like usual, I instead came crashing down with a tremendous THUD! I must've twisted and contorted my body in such a way to prevent extensive injury, because as I sat there, against the coolness of the steel door, I didn't feel any pain. However, in the hours that followed, something began to augment.

Gone was my usual swagger about the office (and in life), and in it's place an increasing limp matched with agonizing discomfort. I went to my doctor earlier this morning, who ran a couple of tests and confirmed to me that I have a "pulled groin". I was overwhelmed with understanding and compassion. I actually felt bad for mocking all those athletes I'd heard of with similar injuries. I understood now, why they'd be removed from their respective active rosters. This was an injury that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. That is, except one piece of shit, who shall remain nameless, but looks like a "wisent". That idiot deserves to feel this kind of pain... For being a dickhead!

So to all the athletes who may come across this blog, please allow me this opportunity to apologize for mocking your groin injuries, past and present. I never realized the extensiveness of this discomfort and you can best be sure that I will never mock sports-related injuries again.

As for all the soccer players of the world... SCREW YOU!!! Soccer's not a sport!!! It's gay, but not a sport!!! I say, "Get up and walk it off, sissy!!!" The only groin pulls you guys are getting, are the one's you give each other in the locker room showers. Circle jerks, anyone?

Molestation of Justice

"Innocent 'til proven guilty". Hopeful words idolized by anyone on the receiving end of justice. "The opposition have to prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I am guilty of the offense accused of me, by my accusers."

However, in recent memory, these words are not in the vocabulary of most. I don't know if it's the advent of technology that has involved public opinion more now, than it ever did throughout history. I know the media, has always contributed in large part to public opinion, but with the added features to day-to-day life, I doubt that the 24-hour news channels are the lone contributors to the backwards thought of today's "man on the street". Although, the "absolute belief" in one's guilt was present during the Salem Witch Trials. Women thrown into the river... If they floated, they were heretics and burned to death. If they drowned... Then they were innocent of witchcraft, but still dead never the less.

Still, I am somewhat fascinated by this backwards thinking. How so many can be certain of one's guilt, even without hearing all the facts and evidence. Unfortunately, today we are a "CSI" generation, and most consider themselves "armchair forensic experts" on a variety of subject, though we lack the proper education. I, myself, not completely innocent of this fact either, finding myself faced with some legal troubles once upon a time, and referring back to my knowledge of TV's "Law & Order", desperate to find a legal loophole.

Listening to those around me, though, everyone seems so certain of guilt, it's almost frustrating enough to the point of wanting to scream. Case and point.., the recent Casey Anthony trial. "Tot Mom" accused of murdering her young daughter, Caylee Anthony. She was ultimately acquitted of the accusations, and people went into a spiraling uproar. The weeks following the acquittal, the news was riddled with discussion tables on how American Justice had let a killer walk free. Do I think Casey Anthony was guilty of murdering her daughter? It doesn't matter what the f*ck I think. She may have contributed to the accidental death of Caylee, but cold-blooded murder? Although it does happen, I would hope that most mothers would be incapable of such a horrendous act. But Double-Jeopardy takes effect, and she can no longer be tried for the death of the little girl. So drop it, already.

Society is unable to simply drop stuff, though. Unless there's something else to distract them, they're going to lock their teeth into anything they deem an injustice, like a ravenous pitbull. Amanda Knox, recently released from an Italian prison, after charges of murder were dropped. I'd heard some about this subject over the past few years, but never invested much thought into it. Then one morning, as I readied myself for work, I overheard a discussion on CNN, about the consideration of the charges being reversed. She, her (then) boyfriend, and a drifter, were accused of murdering her [British] room mate. She'd always denied that she had anything to do with it, as did the boyfriend. The usual banter from anyone accused of any crime. The drifter, however, admitted to having sex with the victim prior to her murder. I thought to myself, "They think she helped a homeless guy kill her room mate? She'll be released." Low and behold she was, but in the weeks since her return home, I've heard the media constantly speak out about the injustice of another wrong-doer, being released back into society. HOLY F*CK, people! Just f*ckin' drop it! It doesn't even concern you.

The one thing that does continue to elude me. To confuse me further, is the Michael Jackson trial. Dr. Conrad Murray on trial for the alleged murder of the Prince of Pop, Michael Jackson. Again, another case of society deciding the already guilt of the man accused. Do I think the guy is guilty? Of course, I do. The man is clearly a f*cking idiot! At least with the previous examples, there is a plausible chance of innocence, even if people refuse to admit it, but Dr. Murray is clearly a moron, and whether he injected the pop star with the lethal dose or not, he made the drugs available to Michael Jackson, which should make him guilty, regardless.

That's not the thing that confuses me. Quite the contrary, his idiocy is quite apparent. What eludes me is society's love of Michael Jackson. As an artist, he was quite ingenious. I will grant you that. However, the man was a f*cking pedophile. He liked children, and not in a good way. He liked to touch them and who knows what else he did to them.

In the early 1990's, he was accused of child molestation! He never even went to trial for that, choosing instead to pay the child and his family an undisclosed amount of money, which dictates to me "Hey! I'm guilty of fondling your private parts, but I'll pay you lots of money to just go away and forget about it." And the kid did. And everyone did forget about it. Until it f*cking happened again.

Where was the undeniable belief of absolute guilt on Michael Jackson? Why is it if a pedophile gets murdered by his neighbours, it's looked upon as "justice", but Michael Jackson was upheld as an American icon. He gets accused TWICE of inappropriately touching children, but because he invented the Moonwalk, "he must be innocent". That f*cking bullshit!!!

Michael Jackson had a few popular songs, invented a cool dance move that is imitated poorly by millions, and liked fondling children. Not only did he get off scot-free, but he was also allowed to be a father, naming one of his children "Blanket"! What the f*ck kind of name is that for a kid? (But I digress...)

It is said that "Justice is Blind". I think society are the ones who are blind. No one's "innocent 'til proven guilty" in their eyes. Then if the accused are proven innocent, they rant and rave to be heard, when in reality, all that energy could be useful and more productive elsewhere. As for Michael Jackson... He's further proof that rich white men can get off any felonious charges in America.

It is probably not a popular belief, but of all the atrocities that occur in the world on a daily basis, the premature passing of Michael Jackson, probably wasn't the worst thing to ever happen. The world doesn't need another bubble gum pop song or a new dance step. And it definitely didn't need to see a third trial of molestation charges involving the Prince of Pop.

W.M.D.'s

I actually got a bloody nose from it. Kneeling over cleaning my little buddy, Monkey's litter box, the stench was SO foul that I got a bloody nose from it. My eyes were watery and burning, and all the while I was cussing up a storm.

For the life of me, I cannot understand how a creature, who actually smells half decent (usually) and look as cute as he does... (I mean, look at him. Just LOOK!) Cute, right?

Hopefully, in all seriousness, this blog doesn't get into the hands of those in the Department of Defense. I don't want them to "commandeer" my pet cat, to perform scientific experiments on him. Experiments like if you feed him something a little more corrosive than just Chicken-flavoured dry cat food and water, if his shit and piss can get more lethal than it already is.

There is no paint downstairs or even any dry-wall in the basement, where I keep Monkey's litter box, thank God. Otherwise, I'd be painting and re-painting the walls... Holy shit!!! As disgusted as I get with him and all the crap he's produced in his box, he comes to me later on, lays at my feet, looks up innocently and meows. He's such a sweetie, that as disgusted as I am, I gotta forgive him. It's not his fault his shit is so foul. It's probably mine for feeding him the food I do. But it's the only food he'll eat. Oddly, if it's not the same size and texture, he won't eat it...

He doesn't give me shit when I'm feeling a little gassy, so I can't stay upset with him. But if the army comes a callin'... They can clean his box. F*ck that noise! That shit is foul!

HUGH-ge Excitement!

In an era where we bear witness to all sorts of remakes via television and the movies, it's refreshing to see one that takes a unique twist. Although the movie "Real Steel" isn't touted as a remake of any kind, the intelligent audience member, can't help but revel in the similarities, story-wise, between the Academy Award winner, "Rocky" and this year's "Real Steel". The former starred Sylvester Stallone as a small time boxer who's given a shot at the title for a one time quest for glory. The latter, stars Hugh Jackman, as a once mid-card boxer who never made it to the big time, until now, via the strength and fortitude of a robot who's given a shot at the champion for a one time quest for glory... Sounds familiar, don't it?

"Real Steel" takes place a few years from now, when the crowd's taste for blood and action, far exceeded what any human being could dish out in a ring against one another. Exit the two-fisted gladiators, in with the computer and engineering geeks, who construct robots for full-size bouts of Rock 'em Sock 'em! However, while the film is fully capsulated by impressive digital effects, the story still carries itself on a human level. Jackman plays Charlie Kenton, a down on his luck ex-boxer and deadbeat dad, who in a moment of greed, agrees to take charge of his young son who's recently lost his mother, in exchange for money, with which he hopes to get his robot fighting career back on course. Throughout the story, he learns to love, not only his son, but himself.

It's a touching story, wrought with excitement and action, and riddled with some humour, as well. There is something here that will appeal to just about any sort of audience you put in the seats. Although, I doubt "Real Steel" will win any "Best Picture" or "Best Director" awards, it should still win in your hearts.

Backseat DRIVEr...

I read a boat-load of reviews about the movie "Drive" which stars Canadian heart-throb, Ryan Gosling. All the reviews about the flick came up quite positive, supplying all the "oohs" and "aahs" that are standard in the praising of a film. Even the movie previews online and that were briefly shown on television, seemed to boast the same appraisal of the movie. "Ground breaking!" said one rave. "Fresh and exciting!" read another. "The most original film in years!" was another positive review.

The preview that I viewed online, by my own admission, featured Gosling's character behind the wheel of a Mustang GT, pulling off some amazing stunts that I've not seen in years. Such excitement, were some of the maneuvers, that all the automobile stunts combined from the "Transporter Trilogy", seemed like a Sunday afternoon drive through the country, by comparison. Unfortunately... [Spoiler Alert] If you wish to see a movie chock-full of similar driving styles, you're better off to put the YouTube preview on repeat, because equally exciting stunts are not to be found in this movie.

Story-wise, I don't know who the critics were who claimed this movie to be "fresh" and "original", because it seemed like the same ol' formula movies that plague our movie screens week-to-week. Basically, this is a story about a mysterious loner, who is befriended by an attractive single-mother and the two become close, only to be confronted with her convict husband who comes back into the picture and soon lures the young mother of one into his dark criminal past, so in a moment of weakness, our "hero" steps up to help only to have the world come crumbling down around them all. You know, typical "boy-meets-girl-meets-convict husband-meets-dirtbag scum-meets-blood, murder & mayhem". We've seen it a thousand times.

So just when you thought the movie couldn't get much hokier, then there's a 180 degree flip and there ultra-violence that even made me a little disturbed. Just over-the-top violence that really didn't make much sense and... Oh... I don't want to waste any more of my time or thoughts on this decrepit shitty movie.

For those who haven't seen this movie, count your lucky stars and be thankful you never wasted your hard earned cash on this crap. This movie, "DRIVE" SUCKS MAJOR ASS!!! For those who spent their money, contributing to the $27M+, I am dreadfully sorry for your loss. And for those offering up such rave reviews..., when did you sell your souls, you lying piece of shit c*cks*ckers?!?

Straight Up The Wazoo!!!

I've always stated that the street is no place for bicycle riders. Granted, a bicycle is a mode of transportation, and therefore should not be ridden on the sidewalk. However, in mainstream traffic, they do not belong either.

For one, unless you're a Lance Armstrong wannabe motherf*cker, chances are, your bicycle of choice, isn't going to keep up with the speeds of an automobile. Especially when you consider all the dangerous f*ckers around these parts. Nobody's obeying the speed laws, even your's truly, for the most part.

Just tonight, I was coming home from the grocery store, keeping pace with the truck in front of me. We weren't speeding like demons or anything, but the 50km/h speed limit had definitely been exceeded by about 5km/h, though. Suddenly I noticed the truck in front of me veer dangerously off into the left lane, cutting off a little red Mustang that was keeping pace with me. Then, at the last second, I saw a dumb-f*ck casually riding her bicycle down the street, meandering left and right in the lane I was in. Even if I had been travelling at 5km less than the posted speed limit, I doubt I wouldn't have seen her any sooner. As I stated, there was a car keeping pace with me in the left lane which impeded that route of escape to avoid the cyclist. Luckily the parking lane was void of cars, so I was able to steer clear of the cyclist via that path.

Phew! Lesson learned. In a world already devoid of sensible driver, I now need to be more vigilant behind the wheel and now watch for inane cyclists in addition to the plethora of reckless drivers.

Judging by how close she was to my rear bumper when I steered clear of her, one might think that the cyclist would've been shaken up by the ordeal, but as I pulled into my driveway and looked back, I noticed that she seemed oblivious to the whole thing. Casually, I noticed, she continued pedaling her bicycle left and right in the lane, with a strand of traffic slowed down on her six.

Even now, hours later, I still sit here shaking my head in disbelief. How this poor simpleton doesn't realize how close she was, to getting my gold-plated Honda emblem shoved straight up her candy-ass.

CHEWBACCA - What a Wookiee!!!!

According to Wikipedia, Chewbacca became Han Solo's first mate and sidekick after Solo, then an Imperial Captain, disobeyed a direct order to kill the wookiee, who was at the time a slave for the Empire. Solo was discharged from the Imperial Navy, who would go on to become a smuggler throughout the galaxy. Chewbacca, owing Solo a life debt, would serve Solo for the rest of his life.

I've always thought Chewbacca had sad eyes. Even when vexed, he maintained a certain sadness about him. I could never quite put my finger on it, until recently. Unrequited love. It wasn't until I suffered some heartache, that I was able to recognize others going through the same turmoil. Chewbacca is sad, because his love for his life companion has not been reciprocated.

Life debt or not, Chewie had the freedom to say "f*ck it", grab his purse and go home. He never did, though. Why? He was secretly in love with Han Solo. The man who saved his life all those grimnals before, was this wookie's "one and only".

There may be many naysayers who would quickly feed me to the Sarlacc for suggesting such blasphemy, but when all the pieces of the puzzle are placed together, I would venture certain speculation that many doubters will quickly become supporters.

First of all, check out Chewbacca's well-coiffed mane. In the first movie, Episode IV: A New Hope, Chewbacca's hair is slicked back. He looked confident and comfortable in his role as Han Solo's sidekick and first mate. Not a single hair was out of place. Who else has perfect hair like that? Italian mobsters and homosexuals, and the last time I checked, there was no Italian mob on the wookiee home world of Kashyyyk.

By the second movie, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, he maintained that sidekick role to Han Solo, only he was no longer the proverbial "apple of Han's eye". The Corellian has set his attentions on Princess Leia. The jealousy he feels towards the princess is only surmounted by his love for Han Solo. It is his love and respect for Han that prevents him from tearing her limb from limb.

Gone too, is his attention to detail. The well-groomed hair that was once slicked back, is now dishevelled and in general disarray. He figures that as long as Han Solo has his sights on Leia, he doesn't stand a chance, so why bother.

In Episode V, Han also announces that he and Chewie would be departing from the Rebel Alliance, looking to settle terms with Jabba the Hut. This is why Chewbacca is working day and night to get the hyperdrive on the Millennium Falcon back up to speed. His efforts are thwarted momentarily, when that "hero" Luke Skywalker nearly gets himself killed by a Wampa on the ice planet of Hoth. In the scene where Han, Leia and Chewie are surrounding Luke in the medical bay, and Leia leans in and plants a big kiss on Luke's lips, if you look at Chewie, you can see a look of complacency wash over the seven foot behemoth. He knows that once he and Han leave these freedom fighters behind, he will no longer have to cry himself to sleep at night, whimpering silently to himself wondering "What does she have that I don't?" Try a vocabulary that doesn't consist of barks 'n' growls..., not to mention a vagina.

By Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, we've learned that Han Solo has been captured by the Empire and Boba Fett, who have frozen Han in carbonite and was then whisked off to Jabba the Hut. On display in Jabba's palace, an elaborate rescue was put into play, plopping Chewbacca right in the middle. Released from the carbonite, Han Solo was blind and frigid. Chewbacca put up no resistance in pulling the haggered man close to his bussom. Han pays no mind as he's literally freezing, but Chewbacca is clearly in a state of bliss.

The wookiee is clearly gay for Han Solo. I mean, it's SO obvious. He has a purse slung over one shoulder. He fires a crossbow laser rifle... Why the f*ck would you need a crossbow laser gun, if you can't shoot anything from the bow? It's clearly a fashion statement on the part of the gay wookiee.

Kind of like how Smithers is gay for Mr. Burns. Both dropping desperate hints of their affection all the time, but neither object of their love, can see it. They simply are unable to see the forest for the trees.

I don't know what comes of Chewbacca in the grimnals following the fall of the Empire. I don't live in my parents basement and I'm able to talk to real girls, so I haven't followed up with any books on the subject, and as far as my getting some of the terminology correct, I must credit Google with everything.

However, if I had to put money on it, I would think that one quiet evening, while transporting Glitterstim Spice from Kessel to an area south of the Si'Klaata Cluster, perhaps. The two old friends might get to reminiscing over a bottle of spirits, about life before the rebellion and before Leia and Luke complicated their lives. Maybe the spirits will help to break down some of his inhibitions and in a quiet awkward moment, Chewie will softly moan and grunt his true feelings for his patriarchal companion. Maybe it will be in those fleeting moments, with the once tropical paradise of Rion in the background, the two will engage in their forbidden tryst... Either that OR Han Solo will be so put off by the gesture, that he would pulverize the wookiee with a shot from his sidearm, just as he should've done and those decades before, then jettisoned his furry ass into deep space.