A Higher Wage for Minimal Work

I just read a tweet on my Twitter account (@ToontownJuggalo) where someone mentioned that they were going to boycott McDonald's until the company begins paying their employees a higher wage.  This decision strikes two chords with me.

Number one: It's f*cking McDonald's.  Arguably, the biggest franchise on the planet Earth.  I'm sure the corporation couldn't give a flying f*ck whether you come to their restaurant to pick up some chicken nuggets or chocolate shake.  They boast (right on their sign) that they've served over a billion people.  Subtracting a handful of well-meaning celebrities, really won't make much of a difference.

Number two:  It's f*cking McDonald's.  At best the company should be a stepping stone to a greater vocation.  To start a job flipping f*cking fries at McDonald's and thinking this could be a career for you, then you may as well take a long walk off a short pier.  I know that for a fast food conglomerate like Mickey D's, you can't rely on the pimply-faced kids to captain the helm.  Some responsible adult supervision is needed, but those should be the guys who worked at McDonald's as a kid, left to go to college, then returned with a marketing degree to man the head offices.  If you're thinking you can support your family while working the drive-thru at McDonald's, then you've got a f*cking screw loose.  Get the f*ck out while you can, dude (or dude-ette).  A McDonald's wage should be suffice enough to put gas in your car, maybe get that T-shirt or skirt you've had your eye on at the mall, or maybe buy a couple of joints.  (That last one is only a suggestion, because let's face it, you work at f*cking McDonald's.)

Progress

I was born an asthmatic.  When I was a kid, my breathing was really f*cked.  I could barely move without running out of breath and I was even hospitalized on a few occasions.  There were a couple of times when my future looked pretty f*cking bleak.

Thankfully, later on in life, I learned to control my breathing a little better, finding that many (of my) asthma attacks were instigated by anxiety.  Sometimes, if I found myself without my inhaler, I'd feel panic overwhelm me, quickly followed by a heaviness in my chest.  Since then, I'm able to relax myself to a point where I'm able to breathe easy.

What I find outrageous, nowadays, is when I leave my house without my Salbutamol asthma inhaler, I feel fine.  Even if I'm only a block or two from my house, a distance close enough where returning to my house isn't an inconvenience of any sort, I seldom turn the car around.  Even when driving the convertible, where I'm more susceptible to elements like dust and pollen, I rarely return home.  However, when I'm out in the world and realize I don't have my cell phone, I almost come undone.

A few short years ago, I never saw the point of carrying a cell phone.  I was one of the last people to start carrying a cell phone and today, I feel f*cking lost if I don't have my cell phone in my pocket.  I'm even guilty of calling into work sick one morning, because I woke up to my cell phone with a dead battery, because I was afraid I'd have to talk to another human being on my coffee breaks.  How f*cking sad is that?  A few years ago, I didn't have a problem engaging in small talk, yet today I'm afraid to utter a single word.

My asthma inhaler is a definite instrument that can save my life if the chips are down.  I barely use my cell phone as a f*cking telephone, yet I feel completely lost and helpless if I don't have it in my pocket.  How f*cked is that?  I guess that's called progress.

Purple is the New Blonde

Does anyone recall when "being blonde" was all the rage?  Most of the population sporting a platinum head of hair, achieved it via a bottle. You couldn't turn your head and not see a bleached blonde cross your line of sight.  It was always a "secret" held between them and their hair dresser. This doesn't seem to be the case anymore...  Not around here, anyway.

I've always been partial to redheads. Deep auburn's and alike.  Granted most redheaded women seem to also be bat-shit crazy, but perhaps it's the danger of walking that thin line between sanity and insanity that draws me to them.  Unfortunately, as of late, even the ravishing redhead seems to be a minority.

I went to a movie yesterday.  A time killer before meeting up with a friend of mine.  The theater was at the mall and as I was running late, I spent very little time rushing through the corridor that connects the parking structure and the theater.  In those few fleeting moments, I passed two people with purple hair.  After the film, the same thing happened.  I passed two more purple-haired people and they were not the same two people.

From a soft lavender to a hard eggplant, a trend has erupted where women feel the need (now) to have purple hair.  I guess because green, blue and orange is too preposterous. A few months back, I never saw anyone with unnatural hair colours.  Not until a good friend of mine coloured her hair.  I must admit that it suited her then and continues to look good today.  Could she possibly be the one who instigated this latest trend?  Maybe.  She is a social butterfly and possesses a unique style all onto her own.  Some of it leaves me scratching my head, sometimes, but at least it's leaps and bounds better than that Hello Kitty shit, she seems to like.

More than likely, Hollywood would be the culprit for starting this fad. I've spotted some major stars sporting the purple-look.  Pop icon, Katy Perry and that Demi Lovato chick make it look kinda sexy and hot, but I'd hardly consider them adequate role models.  Not when you consider Katy Perry's tits hanging half out of her shirt all the time.  Don't get me wrong. I find Perry's look quite fetching, but would you want your 11-year old daughter emulating the look?

Ironically, Kelly Osbourne, a prominent member of the Fashion Police on E! has had purple hair for many years now.  A look that ages her well beyond her young years.  Why does a woman who looks as pretty as Kelly Osbourne does, wish to make herself appear like she's a 70-year old woman?  It frickin' baffles me.

Purple hair, when applied correctly, does look pretty hot.  Just look at the little honey pictured above.  I'd date her, but I've always been partial to them redheads.  Mmm mm... Ya gotta love a redhead.

Ain't What It's Cracked Up To Be

The movie HERCULES is set to release this Friday, July 25th, and it will most likely be a tremendous blockbuster hit.  I really hope it is, as it's star, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, deserves much success.  Other than reading the odd article on Johnson's incredible workout regiment and dedicated diet in preparation for the film, I knew very little about the film.  Moments ago, before settling down to type out this blog, I finished watching a two-minute trailer that a friend posted up on Facebook.  Sadly, the trailer leaves much to speculation, story-wise, but this may be a good thing as most modern day movie trailers are guilty of showing all the good parts in the trailer and leaving the rest of the movie as empty filler, like discarded packing peanuts.  What I did gain from the HERCULES movie trailer, however, is that there's going to be much comic-relief -- which will most likely become tedious and annoying -- and many gratuitous fight sequences.

Another point stressed in the film's trailer was a strong emphasis on the superhuman strength possessed by the man known as Hercules.  An attribute as his mother is a common human, but his father is the great and powerful Zeus.  The fabled stories would have you believe that Hercules would possess the strength of ten men, a trait I believe will be multiplied ten-fold by Hollywood, and judging from Dwayne Johnson' incredible physique, may not be too far off the mark...

This claim of incredible prowess got me to thinking.  Percy Jackson's father is the Greek God, Poseidon.  It's a given that Poseidon may not be as powerful as Zeus, but the two were brothers, so that ought to mean something.  Therefore, shouldn't Percy Jackson possess the same physical strength as his cousin, Hercules?  Or at the very least, a fraction of his perceived strength?  I would imagine having the strength of even just five men would come in handy for some of his adventures, but instead, he's left with being clever and his two close friends.

Speaking of the offspring of the gods.  Shouldn't the biggest name on the list, J.C., himself have possessed some kind of superior ability?  Exceptional strength or an increased ability of any sort?  From what I've gathered throughout time is that Jesus Christ had the gift of gab.  An elevated ability to charm the weak-minded folks around him into believing the hogwash he was spouting.  A kind of super-power, I suppose, but one that differs from the old Snake Oil salesman from the early 20th century.  However, like those spinning wondrous tales of make-believe, the consequences of his yarns eventually caught up to him and he was hung out on the cross.  I bet he would've liked to have had the strength of ten men on that day.

I guess when it's all said and done; Being the son of a God, ain't all what it's cracked up to be.

Bill Cosby is an Asshole

Yesterday, July 17th, 2014, was a crazy day for me.  I had an appointment I needed to attend at 8am, clear across town, and I guess the anticipation of not wanting to miss that appointment prevented me from sleeping beyond 4am.

The appointment breezed by, ending about twenty minutes after it started.  I'd made arrangements to hang out with a friend who lived close by, but he wouldn't be available until after eleven o'clock, so I had a lot of time to waste in the meantime.  It was a lot of bumming around the nearby Wal-Mart.  Those who follow me on Twitter, would've seen some of the pictures I took of my "adventures".

Eventually, my friend D__ came home and we hung out, with his kids, for a little while, before the long hours of being awake, finally caught up to me and I was fighting the urge to fall asleep.  Sadly, I tapped out, admitting defeat and departed, opting to return home and go to sleep.  And go to sleep, I did.

I laid down on the sofa, with my cat, and together we slept for about four hours.  Then I got up, ate some soup, because it's a quick and easy meal to prepare; Open, pour, microwave, eat!  Then I laid down, once more on the sofa, with Monkey, my cat, close by. Slept for another three and a half, maybe four hours. Woke up, raced to Safeway to buy cereal, which had been sold out 7 days in a row. (FYI, DON'T shop at Safeway, they SUCK!!)  I returned home, just in time, as torrential rain and violent lightning began thundering above the house, moments after my front door closed.  So I went to bed.  Nothing else to do.

I slept nicely throughout the night, being awoken only once, around 6am to the sounds of my cat hacking up what I presumed was a hairball, but turned out to be only food that he wolfed down in some sort of imaginary race.  I shot him with a water bottle I keep nearby and went back to sleep.  (It's amazing how tired I am, considering I haven't worked in a month and a half.)

Around 9:30am, I awoke to the oddest thing I've ever had pop into my head, causing me to awaken abruptly.  The words "LISA BONET DIED ON THE OPERATING TABLE"!!! I hadn't watched any sort of television sensationalism gossip programming, especially anything as asinine as Entertainment Tonight or their equivalencies.  I've not seen anything pertaining to Lisa Bonet's questionable acting talent in (literally) decades, not since her "riveting" performance in "Angel Heart". 

Stunned at this news, I rose to check out her breathing status on IMDb.com, only to learn that the actress is the latest recipient of the famed DEATH HOAX.  Apparently, whilst I was unconscious on my sofa for most of July 17th, Lisa Bonet's publicist was fighting off and denying allegations of the actress's untimely demise.

So rest assured, everyone.  It is only Lisa Bonet's career that is dead and it's been dormant for decades, I suspect because of that asshole, Bill Cosby, who claimed she was unprofessional for doing nude scenes in the afore mentioned Angel Heart and for an alleged "unprofessional attitude".  Speaking honestly, though, if I had to work with a dick like Bill Cosby, I'd be unprofessional too.

LISA BONET is ALIVE AND WELL.  Looking at her picture, it's apparent that despite still having a rockin' body, she's not aging very well.  The grey hair is a real turn-off. 

A Flood of Tears for the Posthumously Missed

Q:  Do I wanna see the new Russell Crowe movie?!?

A: NOAH!!!

My reasoning for not wanting to see this movie, stems (in part) from the commercial for the film on television. Crowe warns to his family, "There's a storm coming and there's nothing we can do to stop it!!!"  This statement implies that somewhere sometime, people were or will be able to stop rainstorms from coming.  That's f*cking retarded.  If movies didn't cost so much to see in the theater, I'd almost want to pay to see it, just to pick it apart.  Perhaps this would be better subject matter for Doug Benson's "Movie Interruption".

I made this claim at work today, stating that I didn't want to see the film because of this ridiculous warning from the Noah character, to which I was met with an equally retarded reply.  "That's alright." a workmate replied, "The movie is historically inaccurate, anyway."

There was a  great and silent pause following this accusation.  I realize that I work with a lot (and I do mean A LOT) of religious people, but in this day and age, in the year 2014, for someone to believe whole-heartedly that the bible is an accurate history book, blows my f*cking mind.  This is just plain preposterous to me.  So much so, that the only response I could muster up through the bewildered look plastered upon my face, was a low-toned, "What?"

"The movie is historically inaccurate." the man begun.  I cracked a smile, but I saw that he was serious, so I bit my tongue in an effort to avoid laughter.  "From the size of the boat, to his sons wives and.., blah blah blah."  He continued to point out the movies flaws, having not seen it, I might add.  I chose, however, to tune him out to avoid breaking out in a boisterous laugh.  I'm not one who is religious.  Like I said before, in this day and age.., I find it difficult to understand why so many people put so much of their faith in a book that reads like a book of fables.  With all the advancements in science and technology, people still believe that an invisible man in the clouds created all that we see.  Bullshit!!!  But, some folks need a crutch for when all logic escapes them.  So whatever...  Not for me to pass judgement, although it reads like I am.

So to make light of the heavy situation, I interrupted by adding, "And how do they expect us to believe that two of EVERY SPECIES on the planet, conglomerated at that one meeting spot and ALL fit on this boat?  Then they expect us to believe that the animals all cohabitated without incident.  The carnivores never fed on the smaller animals?"  I was dumbfounded, once more with his response.  "Oh no!  That part of the story is true." Again, I found myself bewildered by the statement and able to only muster up a one-word response, preceded only by a deep groan, "Uhhhh... What?!?"

"All the animals that exist today are cross-bred in one way or another.  That part is true.  What isn't true is all the little details.  Hollywood has a way of changing things up just to make a buck.  Hollywood would never put out a historically accurate movie about Noah or any of the bible stories."

By this time, the whistle blew, ending our coffee break.  Everyone filed out of the break room, leaving me alone to replay the conversation in my mind.  It was at that point I knew I had to address this retardation.  Later I joked about it with another workmate and it was through those comments, I knew I had fuel for this fire, but I needed an angle.

"They [Noah] got two of every animal, but they never got Unicorns." my workmate, C___ joked.  I thought about that for a second, and realized.  Yeah!  Noah was able to get two of every animal on the planet, including a male and a female Sasquatch, yet they couldn't fit two Unicorns on-board.  Then I realized what had actually happened.  It's clarity overcame my ever waking thoughts and for me to deprive these thoughts from the masses would most certainly be a crime against humanity.  A crime of such magnitude that it equates the crime that Noah and his family bestowed upon all of mankind for the centuries that would follow.

As the rains poured down and impending doom was facing our heroes who were corralling all of "God's creatures" upon this mighty wooden vessel, the last to board were the Unicorns.  Alas, however, in his complex calculations (which apparently have nothing to do with science and mathematics, but of God's divine will), shelter was not provided to the Unicorns.  Noah's family, not knowing how long they would be floating about on the S.S. Ark, ate the Unicorn.  It's as simple as that.

Even in the time of the "big flood", people knew that when they ate corn, that corn came out in their shit, fully intact.  Unicorn has the word CORN right in it.  Putting two and two together, these simple-minded people, thought that if they ate the unicorn, that they could shit out a fully intact unicorn.  Kind of like the Jesus-bread, where they were able to feed the starving masses with a single loaf of bread.  Retarded, yes, "but it's the bible, so it's historically accurate," I type tongue-in-cheek.

Not to mention the Unicorn's single horn, mounted proudly upon their brow, was (at the time) a known aphrodisiac, and if Noah and his family were to re-inhabit the Earth, they were going to need every ounce of help they could muster to keep themselves in the mood.  There was going to be a need for a whole lot of sexy time.  Not to mention that after forty days and forty nights on an ark, surrounded by (nearly) every animal on the planet, neither man or woman was going to appear (or smell) very appealing.  Hell, I've seen people's looks fade after a long weekend camping trip.  Yech!!!

Noah (allegedly) saved the plight of the platypus, the elephant seal, and even the fabled Sasquatch/Yeti, but ate the f*cking unicorns.  Will this aspect of the great flood story be depicted in the new Russell Crowe movie?  F*CK NO!!!  Haven't you heard?  The movie is historically inaccurate. 

RoboCop 2014

I attended a matinee showing of the new RoboCop movie yesterday afternoon.  There's been a lot of speculation surrounding the newest edition to the franchise.  Many die hard fans are questioning why the classic movie needed a reboot.  Why is the new RoboCop black, instead of the classic grey of the original?  Many superficial queries like this, most of which are unfounded and based on theory and not on actual experience from watching the motion picture itself.  I read several reviews made by private citizens on the website where I got my show times from, many of which contained the information that they had not yet seen the movie.  I question the validity of such remarks and inquire how it is that people believe they can make an educated review on a motion picture that (at the time) had not yet been released?  Furthermore, I wonder how anyone would derive any value from these reviews based on speculation, rather than based on witnessing the film first hand?

Admittedly, I was one of these people when I first learned that RoboCop was getting a reboot.  I would hardly call the original film a "classic".  It was a decent sci-fi adventure when it was originally produced, more than twenty-five years ago, but I would hardly consider it classic.  However, as with all popular films, a reboot or retelling, is almost inevitable, these days.  Past films like True Grit, Planet of the Apes and most recently, Batman and Total Recall have all been reintroduced into the culture as retelling's of the originals.  Even George Lucas did this a few years ago with his Star Wars franchise, only instead of redoing the movies in their entirety, he instead opted to add stupid shit to them, thus making a mockery of his name and forever placing a blemish on the true sci-fi masterpieces.

As for this newest version of RoboCop, for those attending the movie believing it to be a remake of the original, are going to be disappointed greatly.  Even the way that Detective Alex Murphy loses his life is completely different from the original, and there's a great reason for this change, which I will share in a moment.  However, if you go into the theater with a sound (and open) mind, you will come away from the movie quite pleased.  For RoboCop, 2014, is NOT a remake, but a reinterpretation of the original story line.

The gist of it is the same, in that Detective Murphy is killed and is reanimated as the robotic crime fighter, known unconventionally as RoboCop, but beyond that, I like the changes that the film makers brought to life.  They've presented the RoboCop from a much more human point of view, even throwing a question out to the audience of whether or not it is right to fool with Mother Nature in reanimating that which, beyond all accounts, should be dead?

The story told in the film was pretty cut and dry, except for the finale, which confused me some.  They elude to some kind of secret, but fail to elaborate, so the conclusion seems almost fabricated and thrown together as a last resort.  Like the director, Jose Padilha, figured that as long as the sequences were tied together with some extraordinary special effects, that audiences will be fooled into loving the film.

This is not the case.  Up to now, it seems like I'm singing the movie's praises, but in the end I have to admit that it's not a fantastic movie.  I do love the changes to the RoboCop itself.  It's a better actor (Joel Kinnaman) portraying the RoboCop.  It's more believable that the RoboCop would speed all around Detroit on a motorcycle than squeezing his robotic fat-ass into a cramped Ford Taurus (est. RoboCop, 1987).  Alex Murphy, after his metamorphosis, is more human that machine.

The only fail the movie has for me is the overall story line.  It's a bit weak and shallow, not to mention confusing and contrived.  Based on my FOUR STAR RATING SYSTEM, I give RoboCop (2014) THREE STARS.

As for why the origin of Detective Alex Murphy's death was changed so drastically, I theorize that it's based on the rating of the film.  The original RoboCop possessed an R-rating.  The film showcased female nudity, strong language and grotesque and violent images, which included Murphy having his hand blown off by a shotgun and one of the villains (literally) melting from overexposure to nuclear waste.  The newest rendition possesses only a PG-rating.  There's no nudity.  No strong language and impressive but not over-the-top violence.  This allows children to attend then run out afterwards to pick up the new RoboCop action figures.  Film making, after all, is more about business and the almighty dollar, than it is about entertainment.