The Blackface Jacksons

October 10, 2009

05_Flatbed_2 - OCTOBERWhite ChicksWhen a couple of black guys made themselves up to look like two white girls in the movie White Chicks, did anyone find it offensive?  No.  Unfunny, yes.  Offensive, no.

Now, if you turn the tables and a few white guys dress up as black guys, suddenly they are Australian Antichrist 5.  Really?

Maybe it was a little soon after MJ’s death, but otherwise I just can’t get worked up about it.  There are so many more things worth making a fuss about, like President Obama getting a Nobel Peace Prize far basically not even trying to get one.  Now that’s offensive!


Transformers 2 Review

June 29, 2009

Where to begin? From the very first voiceover (which is as pointless as the first voiceover in the first movie), you know the movie is going to be a turd. In many ways this movie is a perfect example of how Hollywood can mess up an existing franchise. Much like George Lucas, Michael Bay has no idea how to make a movie for his target audience. There are robots in this film that reminded me of Jar Jar Binks, but it gets worse. To try to widen the appeal of the movie, there are a couple of ethnic robots, one Hispanic and one black (complete with a gold tooth). Neither one can read. They both use slang like “I’m gonna put a cap in his ass” and “punk ass bitch”.

Also, I’ve heard complaints about the use of the term “masturbation” in the first movie. Seriously, it has no purpose in a kid’s movie. Well, folks, the sequel is worse. I heard someone use the p-word (sounds like a cat). There are three scenes involving humping. And the best part is when you get a robotic crotch shot and there are two large metalic balls.

Transformers 2 is a narrative mess. Characters show up, do something useful, and then they vanish until they are needed again. Some characters have no purpose at all. The plot is way too complicated, and the last action sequence is at least an hour long. I kept wondering how much longer it would go on.

And yet, even with all it’s flaws, I didn’t hate the movie. Is that wrong? I just hope they don’t make another one.

The Mouse Behind The Toaster

June 22, 2009

I saw my aunt over the weekend.  She said the other day she went into the kitchen to clean it up, when she noticed a dead mouse between the toaster and the wall–Ewww!

She grabbed a paper towel, picked up the body, and tossed it in the trash.

She pulled the toaster out to clean behind it.  Then she noticed the toaster’s power cord had something fuzzy on it.

“What is that?”  She reached down inspect it with her fingers.

…And got the shock of her life!  The mouse had chewed through to the wires.  Hence, the reason it was dead–it electrocuted itself.  I think it must have also zapped my aunt’s short-term memory, because she touched it twice (and was shocked both times) before realizing she was touching a live wire.

Poor Little Hamster

June 22, 2009

Little did my mother know when she bought my two brothers a hamster each on Tuesday that it would set about a chain of events that would end in the one of the hamsters’ demise by Friday.

As she relayed the story to me over the weekend, my mouth gaped open in amazement and disgust.

The boys had been playing in their room Thursday night, when suddenly Austin comes into the living room in tears.  “What’s wrong?” my mom asked.

“My hamster is dead,” Austin replied.

“What?” she demanded.  “How did that happen?”  Having recently had to deal with the boys burning down the neighbors’ fence, I’m sure she jumped to a number of conclusions.  But Austion wouldn’t answer.

“You can tell me,” she coaxed.  “It’s okay.”

Between sobs, Austin finally told her that he and Alex had been tossing the hamsters onto the bed in their room, when the accident occurred.  And by tossing, I’m guessing he meant bouncing it off the ceiling.  Anyway, one mis-throw, and Austin’s hamster missed the bed altogether.  It hit the concrete floor, killing it.

Serial killers torture animals, I thought to myself.  My brothers torture animals.  Hmn…

“I’ll bet the other hamster doesn’t make it another week,” I told my mom.

“We’ll see,” she said.  “I’m not buying them any more pets after this.”

River Spirit Casino

May 29, 2009


We drove down to the new River Spirit Casino in Tulsa last night, and I just have to ask.  Why are all Indian Casinos super ugly?  This think looks a giant red cardboard box that someone left out in the rain.  The Cherokee Casino in Claremore doesn’t look much better.

We drove around for what seemed like thirty minutes looking for a parking space, and wound up parking about as far south and as far away from the Casino as possible.  I think we crossed the Equator when we started walking to the building.  We saw the shuttle kiosk, but thought he could probably walk to the building before a shuttle arrived.  About thirty feet beyond it, we saw the shuttle coming, so we turned around and headed back to the kiosk.  The shuttle saw us…it had to.  We were in the middle of the street because there are no sidewalks.  But the shuttle just kept on going.  I started to pick up one of the decorative rocks in the lot’s many beds and throw it.

Hours later, we finally made it to the building.  Stepping over a couple of destitute gamblers laying in front of the door, we went inside.  Suddenly, it was like being in Las Vegas, minus Sigfried and Roy.  I was actually impressed with the look of the place.

Now, I’m not really a gambler, so I couldn’t tell you if the slots are loose.  Some of the women I saw looked like they were, though.  My real reason for going was to try out the Thursday night seafood buffet.  Not surprisingly, it was on the northern end of the building.  More walking.

The buffet is very stylized and organic looking.  Sections are divided by retainers with wooden dowel rods sticking up out of them, giving an impression of a tall grass prairie.  The lighted globes hanging from the ceiling look like Oklahoma hail stones.  And over at this one table were a bunch of people that looked like bison.

The food was good.  The snow crab legs were some of the biggest I’ve seen.  They were delicious, but I couldn’t keep my cat away from me when I got home later.  While we were eating, an ambulance pulled up to the building.  We inquired about it when we left, and they told us someone one a car and had a heart attack.  I hope they were kidding.

The Birds: The Sequel

April 19, 2009

I had a weird thing happen to me at the Tulsa Zoo today.  I went into the rainforest exhibit, and my glasses immediately fogged up.  So I stood there just inside the entrance loitering for a couple of minutes while my lenses acclimated to the temperature and humidity.  While I waited, I looked around to see what animals might be nearly.  Not really seeing any, I decided to continue on.  When I took a step, I nearly stepped on a bird.  My heart skipped a beat, I think.  It just appeared out of nowhere.

It was completely unafraid of me.  Not only that, but there was something menacing about how the bird looked at me.  And it kept trying to get behind me.  I’d walk one way and it’d get behind me.  I’d switch direction and it’d get behind me again.  It was some kind of Amazonian stalker bird.  And it was getting really close to my ankles.  It followed me all the way to the second airlock, and appeared to want to follow me through the doors there.

Curious if it would follow me back to the entrance, I doubled back.  It did.  Somewhere along the way, it found a juicy cockroach and had it in his beak.  The insect was still squirming.  Now the bird started chasing me with it.  I had a Hitchcock-style vision of it poking the roach up my pants legs or down in my shoes.  It kinda freaked me out.

I hurried back to the second airlock, and when the bird tried to follow me inside, I shoed it away.  I was safe.  Then I turned around, and a zoo employee was standing right behind me.  I shrieked a little.  I was so embarrassed.

See a video of the bird here.

Little Arsonists

April 6, 2009

No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth.  I’ve just been lacking material, but it turns out, all I needed to do was go home for the weekend.

No sooner than I arrived, my mom got a phone call from a neighbor woman.  “We’ll come down and look at the fence sometime this weekend,” she said.  I asked, “What fence?”  Mom looked at me with frustration and began to tell me what happened.

Apparently, my two brothers (6 and 8 years old) decided they wanted to build a camp fire.  These are the same two brothers that have been fascinated with cigarette lighters and burned a large spot on the carpet in their bedroom (they now have a tile floor in there).  Anyway, they decided to build a fire.  They piled up some sticks and a bunch of leaves.  I’m not exactly sure how they knew what to do, but it sounds like they built it mostly correctly.  Maybe arsonists are just born knowing how to build fires–perhaps it’s instinct.

But the fire began to spread.  They tried stomping it out, but it got out of control and started burning the wooden fence they built the fire beside.  Realizing they could not stop the fire, they ran back to my mom’s house, went in their bedroom, and shut the door.  Mom noticed they were acting strangely, so she went outside to see if she could figure out why.  That’s when she saw the firetruck down the street.  Immediately, she knew the boy’s were responsible.

Hence, the reason for the call.  Mom is going to have to replace the fence.  After she hung up, I told her, “At least they’re not starting fires in her house anymore.”

I’m Pissed At Braum’s

February 23, 2009

Today I went to Braum’s to buy ice cream, and what I found there was shocking! They no longer sell half-gallon tubs. The size they now offer is only three pints. Boys were not allowed to take home economics at my school, so I couldn’t tell you how many pints are in a half-gallon. I Googled it when I got home and there are four pints in a half gallon. So Braum’s is cheating you by a pint. In other words, you are getting a whole quarter less.

I haven’t bought ice cream in a while, so I’m not really sure if the price went down too, or not. All I know is I’m not happy about it. So I asked the guy at the checkout line (he looked like a smart-ass) what happened to the all the half-gallon tubs, and he actually told me aliens came and abducted them all. I’m not kidding. So I said, “Well, when the aliens are done with them, let me know so I can come back to Braum’s to buy ice cream.” Okay, I didn’t really say that because I wanted some ice cream, but I thought it. This might actually prompt me to send a letter to Braum’s headquarters.

Last time I checked, Farm Fresh still sold half-gallon tubs. Hopefully, the aliens haven’t attacked them, too.

There Is Something Wrong With My Brothers

February 12, 2009

I talked to my mom the other day and got the weekly report of what my brothers did during the week.  The last report was one of the better ones because it contained two incidents.

The first incident began when my mom heard some commotion in her bedroom and went to investigate.  She found both my brothers.  The oldest one, Alex, was stabbing holes in a shoebox with a colored marker.  Intuition told my mom that there was something in the box that should not be there.  She took the box away from them and found their kitten in there, now with blue polka dots all over it.  It was otherwise unhurt.  When she took the cat to the vet later that day to get it spayed, I’m not sure how she explained the blue spots to him.  I’ve decided Alex is going to be a serial killer.  It always starts with animal torture.

The second indicent occurred at my grandmother’s house.  It was warm outside, so mom told the boys to go out and play while she and her brother put together some furniture.  A couple hours later, they hadn’t heard a peep from the boys.  Mom’s sister went out to find them.  They were nowhere to be seen.  My mom went outside and looked, too.  She started calling for them but got no response.  As it turns out, they had climbed inside the trunk of her car, shut the lid, and couldn’t figure out how to get out.  When she found them, they were all pink and sweaty.  They had been crying.  My youngest brother, Auston, started saying “He made me do it!  I didn’t want to!”  All my stepdad said later was “I bet they don’t do that again.”  I remain unconvinced.

Innocence Shattered

January 13, 2009

My innocence has been shattered. I got a phone call from security today saying my car had been broken into. At first I thought I was being Punk’d, but since I’m not a celebrity that seemed unlikely.

I went outside the building to see how bad the damage was. The driver side window had been broken. Glass was everywhere. My radio was missing. My cedar tree air freshener was gone.

The best part is the burglar left his DNA in the car. Not that kind of DNA, you pervert! It was blood. Now that I think about it, I might should have checked for the other kind of DNA, too.

After waiting for a couple of hours, the police arrived. He took my report, but it’s not really cost-effective to run DNA on every suspect. So about the best I can do is hope the guy’s cut gets infected, and they have to amputate his hands or something.