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Scary Movies

1 Sep

After a full month of daily blog posts for the entire month of August I almost took a day off today.  I was really going to do it.  But then a very good friend, who is sort of a new friend even though I’ve known her for about 20 years already came to the rescue and convinced me to keep going, so I’m going to try like hell to get something written that I actually feel is worthy of being posted in the next 32 minutes.   (So the thing is I would actually have an additional 4 hours to do this if my WordPress was set to the correct timezone, but at the moment I can’t figure out how to fix it, so I’ve decided to just carry on with a sort of stream of consciousness rant for a little while, and in that way I will be able to continue this daily blog posting one more day.)


To be honest I’m really having a hard time writing anything right now.  It’s HOT.  Sticky.  This sort of weather drains me of my energy, my ambition, and my inspiration and all I really want to do is lay down and go to sleep, but the problem with that is I can’t sleep when it’s like this.  It’s hard for me to come up with ideas.  It’s hard for me to be funny, or even to find amusement in much of anything.  I get depressed.  Irritable. Morose.  It’s hard for me to think. September has arrived at long last, which means there is some hope for the near future, but it still seems like a distant promise, somewhere lingering over the horizon like a shimmering mirage, that continually fades away as you approach it.


I’m not a huge fan of winter either, but I can adjust to it much better.  Another layer of clothes, some boots and a scarf.  Problem solved.  Big deal.  And the best part about winter is I never have any problem getting enough sleep.


October is by far my favorite month, and it’s only a little over 4 weeks away. I live for those glorious 31 days and I wish I could live in a place where it was October all the time.   (Admittedly, in my neck of the woods, even much of that month is a little warmer than I would like, but at least it is usually interspersed with a couple of cool spells here and there.)  There are other things about October that I like in addition to the slightly cooler temperatures. I love the fall colors.  I love the crisp cool air and the smell of burning leaves, and of course, the thing I look forward to most, the one and only holiday I actually celebrate.  The day I look forward to all year long. Halloween!  It has always been my favorite.  You can keep your Christmas presents and your Thanksgiving turkeys and your Fourth of July fireworks as I have very little use for any of that foolishness.  My whole year revolves around October 31st.  For real.


This may have something to do with my love for horror movies.  For as long as I can remember I have loved scary movies.  The interesting thing about that is I never really found them scary.  I just enjoyed them. I was literally obsessed with the idea that there was this dark supernatural hidden world lurking somewhere behind the boring hum drum perceived world that we live our day to day lives in.  The world I longed for was filled with monsters, ghouls, and nightmarish landscapes.  It was a world like the one created by Wes Craven.


As usual I was messing around on the internet before work yesterday which was when I learned of his recent death.  People will always remember him mostly as the guy who gave us Freddy Krueger.  I loved the Nightmare on Elm Street movies, (which were great in their own right)  but my own particular favorite of his came a little earlier than that, in 1977.


 In it a vacationing family of wide eyed simpletons get lost in the desert, and are stalked and killed off, one by one by an isolated family of cannibalistic mutants.  It’s great fun for the whole family and contains one of the most hilarious scenes in all of cinematic history, which involves an angry patriarch, a road map, and a rabbit on the road.  (It takes place about fifteen minutes into the film, and had me laughing so hard the first time I saw it I almost fell off the couch.)

If you want a good scare.  (And a good laugh)  Check it out sometime.  That’s all I got tonight.

August. I came. I saw. I kicked its ass!

31 Aug


With this blog post I have successfully completed my “Blog a Day for the Month of August” challenge. (I…Rule.)

I’ve had an excellent month, though it was one that began and ended with the tragic loss of two of my favorite icons of pop culture.  It all started late on a Friday night, as I sat in front of my computer, drinking and writing a blog, a manner in which I spend many a Friday night.  I began a blog that was meant to be a political rant, but discovered in the midst of it that Rowdy Roddy Piper had passed away, and quickly jumped track to eulogize the professional wrestling legend. By the time I posted it, it was Saturday morning, August 1st.


Another Friday Night and I Ain’t Got No Roddy

The next night I wrote a follow up post, explaining the title of the previous night’s blog.  It was then I realized I might have a chance at a blog a day for an entire month, as here it was only the second day of the month, and I had already posted TWO BLOGS IN A ROW!!!  (A heretofore unheard of effort.)

Another Saturday Night and I Ain’t Got Nobody

Next I added an excerpt from my journal, A blog about a boring walk across town, and a reblog of my very first blog, which I thought was ok since I had never in fact posted it to my own blog.  (They were all pretty much cop outs, but hey, they were still blog posts, and I know at least one person besides myself liked them.)  Then I crafted what I believe to be my finest fucking blog yet.

Just Another Fucking Blog Post


And followed it up the next evening with an explanatory blog for the previous day’s blogging efforts.  (Have I used the word “blog” enough times yet?  Didn’t think so.)

Profanity is Fucking Hilarious


I then regaled my dear readers with an exciting adventure from the land of the Dollar Store.

Welcome to the Dollar Store, Where you Will Never Find A More Wretched Hive of Scum and Villainy


After another foray into anti Rescumlican Rantings, I finally got down to penning the tale of my alleged Michael Jackson Puppet Show, a momentous event from my 4th Grade, and one which peers have been pestering me to write for many thousands of centuries.

The Alleged Michael Jackson Puppet Show


After a couple more days of blogging I began a ten day paid vacation, at the beginning of which I announced my intentions to consume no less than 100 beers.  (I closed out at 112, though the chart only indicates 104, which is due to the fact that I drank 8 more after posting it.)  I also committed to writing the tale of the most hilarious game of baseball ever played, went to the dinosaur museum, and wrote an epic five part mini series about my experiences at Cedar Point. (In other news of my tumultuous vacation I added the 1000th CD to my collection, had my biggest day ever for Site views, and took part in a Stream of Consciousness Blog Post.)

Ten Cent Beer Night

Not Necessarily NOT About Dinosaurs Or Anything Else

The Cedar Point Chronicles Part One

The Cedar Point Chronicles Part Two

The Cedar Point Chronicles Part Three

The Cedar Point Chronicles Part 4

The Cedar Point Epilogue

beer count vertical

The sad return to work on Monday did not prevent me from continuing my daily blog posting.  I will admit, the “blog” I posted on the 30th, which was actually just a photo manipulation project, without much text, was sort of a cop out, but what you may not have noticed, even if you’ve been following along, is that I did actually post TWO blogs on August 28th, so I figure it kind of evens out.  I also showed you what my room looks like.

A Rare Glimpse Into the World Of An Aspiring Blogger.


And took part in another Stream of Consciousness Saturday.  This one dedicated to Salvador Dali.



And here at last is my final blog for August, thus completing my blog a day promise, a promise I myself thought I hadn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of accomplishing.  Of course, according to Dante, Hell is actually a very very cold place.  (So maybe he was right.)

And to end August on yet another note of sadness, I found out this morning that Wes Craven, master of horror has died.  The world of horror will never be the same.  Tomorrow night, I think I might write a whole blog post dedicated to him, and my love for his movies, which may very well start me off on the right foot towards the successful completion of a blog a day for the entire month of September, but I cannot and will not make any such lofty promises at this time.


Kim Kardashian To Star in Remake of Goonies

30 Aug




29 Aug


The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS August 29/15

Tonight’s SocS theme is “Four Letter Words.”  I’ve chosen Dali.

I checked a book out of the library a couple weeks ago called The Shameful Life of Salvador Dali by Ian Gibson.  Since I generally only read while I’m in the bathroom ( a room I also refer to as “The Library”)  I haven’t got that far through it, but it served as the inspiration for tonight’s Stream of Consciousness post, and I have decided to run with it, literally. (DALI)


I suppose I’m kind of cheating a little already here, because is Dali really a word, or is it a name?  And can a name be a word?  I think it can, especially in a case in which an artist, personality macabre character such as Salvador Dali has turned his own life into a legacy very few have not been touched by?  Who hasn’t seen his haunting image of melting clocks, perhaps his most famous work?  (DALI)


Dali Parton

Long legged elephants, burning giraffes, bizarre twisted insect beings and images vaguely representative of naked women dominate his artwork, which was absolutely brilliant in every way.  Upon being drummed out of the “Surrealists” by other surrealists he responded by saying “I am Surrealism” and he was most likely correct.  Who has even heard of any of those other guys who has not heard of Salvador Dali? (DALI)

Dolly Madison

Dali Madison

He didn’t just paint in a surreal fashion he lived it as well.  And he created so many other things.  Statues, clothing jewelry, films. He built his own museum which eventually became his own mausoleum. He even starred in a couple of hilarious television advertisements and made a guest appearance on a game show called What’s My Line? (DALI)

Dali Llama

The Dali Llama

He was Spanish.  he had a crazy pointy mustache.  He loved Alice Cooper, and a woman named Gala, ten years his senior and they stayed married for 50 years.  He pissed on a painting Andy Warhol gave him as a gift, an act Warhol thought was great!  He did what he wanted.  He was the center of the universe while he was alive, which was from sometime in 1904 until sometime in 1989.   (DALI)

Mohammed Dali

Mohamed Dali

I vaguely remember a VHS tape a friend of mine had called DALI!  Which was a sort of weird combination of bizarre music videos and little bits of biography interspersed with a lot of footage of Dali behaving in the most eccentric manner.  I spent hour on the internet today, trying to find clips from it, but ended up somehow watching a ten minute segment of Bradley Cooper and Jimmy Fallon unable to stop cracking up while discussing a play about The Elephant Man.  That has nothing to do at all with Salvador Dali but I’m leaving it in here anyway because this is a Stream of Consciousness Blog and everything must stay.  (DALI)


In a final attempt to make this bizarre post seem somewhat relevant, I will add that Dali was influenced by many four letter things.  Dada.  Poop.  Butt.  Land.  Time.  Ants.  Gala.



A note on how I did this.  I came up with the idea while reading my library book this morning.  I spent my day perusing videos about Dali, reading internet articles about Dali, poring through my library book about Dali, and doctoring up my own images of Dali.  So I suppose that means I put a little more thought into this than I was supposed to.  But then I just sat down and wrote it in one continuous stream of blathering, and afterwards went through and fixed only the typos. so I at least did that right.  I’m going to tell you that there are some phrases in this writing that I would really like to edit, but I won’t, because that would most certainly be cheating!  (I added the images afterward as well.)


De Ja Vu

28 Aug

My work day today was a different sort of trip all together.  Melancholy, fun, exciting, sad.  It was all of those things.  It was my last full day at the Maple Rd. Plum Market, a place I have worked for 6 and a half years.  It may not sound like much to some people, but it is, by far, the longest I have worked anywhere in my life, and I have absolutely LOVED working there. Mostly it’s because I love the people I work with, but I also really sincerely enjoy doing my job.   For the entire time I’ve been at Plum, and most of the time I was at my previous job (A place called Bello Vino) I have been a buyer, which is, in many ways, the perfect job for me.  Being a buyer involves a lot of different things, such as talking to vendors, using bizarre electronic ordering devices, talking to people on the phone, throwing stock, merchandising product (which is not the same as stocking, by the way) ,messing around on computers, and of course a certain amount of goofing off (which is, of course, a requirement of every job, otherwise what’s the point?)  Basically it all boils down to this:  I get to spend a bunch of someone else’s money!   (And that’s awesome.)


Wait a minute, I think I already said all that.  Oh that’s RIGHT!  I already had my “last day” at Plum Market (Maple Road Edition).  It was two weeks ago today.  Then I had over a week off, during which time (On Wednesday I believe) I was called and informed they weren’t going to be ready for me yet at the new location for another week.  Therefore all my teary eyed heartfelt good byes had been a lie.  “Just kidding!”


But seriously folks, my second last day was pretty awesome.  First and most importantly I got another round of “Good Bye Hugs” from all the cute girls that I work with, and let’s face it.  there’s never anything wrong with that.  I spent most of my 8 hour shift “training my replacement” and since my job really wasn’t ever that hard to begin with, that meant shooting the shit about my favorite movies and music throughout my entire shift, while casually pointing out various methods with which to make the “work” even easier.

I got to leave Plum Market for awhile to go pick up the company van (with which I will be driving myself to and from training for the next couple of weeks)  Ever the conniver, I used this golden opportunity to pick up pizzas and crazy bread at Little Caesars to bring back and share with my co workers, and stopped by a local Kroger where I had noticed several of our shopping carts hanging out a few days earlier.  (I stopped to pick them up with the company van.)  The unruly carts bounced back and forth in the back of the van the whole way, and at one point, when I pulled up to a stop light with motherfuckers tailing my ass the whole way, I became convinced I hadn’t actually closed the back door tight enough, and for sure somebody was going to get a shopping cart surprise through their windshield.  (Unfortunately this did not happen. I was actually kind of disappointed, as it would have been hilarious and well deserved.)


So I had to make do with showing back up to my last hour of work with a shit ton of free pizza for everybody.  (Well it wasn’t actually “free.”  I mean I had to pay for it after all.  But nobody else did.  One person gave me a dollar.   That was awesome.  I used it to buy a candy bar later.)

I did the same thing two weeks ago on my other “Last Day.”  People asked if we were going to have a pizza party on all my “last days.”  I said “Of course we are!”  Alas, I’m pretty sure this was, in fact the last day, as I was officially given the keys to the company van, with which I am to begin driving myself to and from the training sessions for my position in the new store in a couple weeks. (So I guess it’s official.)


I left work at noon, with as little fanfare as possible.  (I’d had enough of that already)  I came home and took a nap on the couch, during which time I had two cats sleeping on me, which I have no complaints about.  (They make good pets, and they make even better blankets)

A few hours later I was called back to have a beer with a good friend I have worked with there for a few years now.  (It’s sort of a tradition.)  I had one of these and it was amazing.


And now i’m back in my apartment drinking White Russians, the drink of choice for the evening.  I plan to continue doing so until I puke, pass out, or die.  (Most likely somewhere in between all those options.)

A Rare Glimpse Into The Private World Of An Aspiring Blogger

28 Aug

I’m getting into the home stretch of my proposed “One Blog A Day For the Month of August” goal, and surprisingly it looks like I may have a chance of actually accomplishing it!  Once tonight’s blog is written and posted I’ve only got three more to go, and here’s a dirty little secret, one of those posts is already mostly written.  (Is that cheating?  Yes… you say?  Oh, good thing your opinion doesn’t matter to me!)


I wouldn’t label myself as an anti social person but for the most part I do prefer to be alone as much as possible.  It’s not that I don’t like people but to be honest it’s very hard to get anything productive done when you have folks hanging around all day, wanting you to “entertain” them. Thankfully this doesn’t happen too much. Sometimes it’s nice to be more or less repulsive in physical nature and almost entirely abrasive personality wise.  In fact, it’s always nice!


So I thought I would share with you the environment in which my silly little blog postings are constructed.  I’m granting you a rare tour of my innermost inner sanctum.  The Sanctum Sanctorium, The Fortress of Solitude, MY ROOM, where I spend the vast majority of my free time. Welcome to “Club Domingosaurus Rex.” (Where the party never ends.)


First of all there is a two drink minimum for any “blogging night.” My 31 day blog challenge may have an unexpected bonus of finally allowing me to achieve my life long goal of becoming a full fledged alcoholic!  (Hooray!)  Many times during my existence I have made valiant efforts at getting drunk every day but have long theorized I just don’t have the willpower.  I mean sometimes I just don’t feel like drinking.  (That’s a heavy cross to bear after all.) Yet for some reason (possibly due in part with my fascination with gonzo journalist Hunter S Thompson)  I simply prefer to drink while I write. (And to write while I drink.)  As the booze flows, so do the words, it seems.  Perhaps it is a sort of handicap, but if so it’s one I enjoy immensely.


I almost always turn on all my “party lights” when I am writing.  They help me focus.  I have all kinds of cool shit in my room.  (Some of which don’t photograph too well with my shitty little digital camera, so I’ll just describe them to you.)  I have two lava lamps of differing styles and colors.  I have two spinning police car style lights.  One string of Christmas lights (or as I like to call them “party lights”) long enough to nearly traverse the entire perimeter of my room, two red light bulbs a blue light bulb and a green light bulb, a police scanner, which I like simply because it has a little red light that goes back and forth along the front of it like KITT.  (If you don’t get this reference to a popular 80’s action show starring David Hasselhoff I have very little, if any, use for you. Go back to listening to your Justin Bieber music and stop reading my blog immediately)  To top it all off, the creme de la creme of my collection of party lights: no less than seven black lights.




And as if I needed any more added inspiration, over in the corner are something like 12 THOUSAND comic books.  (And yet, believe it or not, I still kind of wonder why I’m still a virgin. You’ve heard of the 40 Year Old Virgin?  I got that beat.  I’m 41; going on 42!)


All right I’m almost out of booze.  Guess it’s time to call it a wrap and go to bed.  Cheers!

Wanna Go To Cedar Point Today? (Naaaah…Let’s Go Explore Grand Rapids, I Said! It Will Be Fun, I Said!)

27 Aug

Remember when I wrote about the amazing summer my good friend Linnea and I bought season passes to Cedar Point?  (AKA The “Amazement Park?”)   Well here’s another amusing anecdote about that summer.


An interesting thing we discovered after going to Cedar Point several weeks in a row was, it was actually possible to get kind of bored with it! So one morning when I showed up to collect her, it was somehow concluded neither of us felt much like riding coasters that day, so why not go check out Grand Rapids instead?  (Why not indeed!)  Grand Rapids. Michigan is a sizable urban sprawl on the western side of Southern Michigan and was a city neither of us really knew much about, other than it was enormous, (the second most in the whole state of Michigan in fact) and therefore was sure to be littered with all kinds of cool stores in which for us to spend our hard earned dollars.  Ballet supply stores were Linnea’s primary objective, comic book stores were mine, and both of us were interested in thrift stores, used music stores and book stores.   We were quite certain we would find a plethora of such establishments in such a wide spread metropolis as Grand Rapids.


The drive there was uneventful, and actually took just a little longer than it would have taken to drive to Sandusky!  I stopped at a gas station just outside town to get a street map. I was hoping to score a phone book, but struck out on that endeavor. I figured with those two simple tools I would be able to locate all of our targeted shopping locations and navigate an easy route to them. (That was what I thought.) So without knowing a damned thing about Grand Rapids we exited into the business district and from there just started driving around. Our search got off to an excellent start. First we found a cool looking used book store and entered. It was just what a used book store should be: cluttered, dusty and full of books. The store had hard wood floors, few windows, and shelves and shelves of books reaching almost all the way up to the ceiling.  Behind the counter was a friendly looking elderly female clerk who asked if we needed help. (We didn’t.)


 After visiting every portion of the store I walked up to the counter with a large Foxtrot comic strip book. As I was paying I asked if by any chance she had any old phone books she would be willing to sell me. I explained our objectives and she gave me a brand new phone book free of charge!  Just up the street from there we discovered a little used video game store. It, much like the previous establishment, was nothing more than a two story house with a sign in the front window and a little dirt parking lot in front of it. The place had cheap wood paneled walls, like you would find inside a trailer home, and many shelves of old Nintendo and Sega games.  I actually had a working first generation Nintendo and purchased, under Linnea’s advisement, a game called Burger Time.  (I recognized it as having been advertised on the backs of comic books in my youth.)  It turned out to be a pretty fun game, but neither of us could get very far past the third level.


When we left that place we did so with the feeling that we had discovered the Treasure of the Sierra Madre, (whatever the hell that means) and both vowed to return many times. (We never did.) It seemed our Grand Rapids adventure was going well. At this point it was decided that the time had come to consume various foodstuffs. I of course, required a cheeseburger and fries and we drove around for hours discussing and dismissing several options.  (We did that a lot) Eventually we found a place that served Coke and didn’t look too awkward or busy.  (All of which we required)  This appeared in the form of a little family diner in an extremely narrow and elongated wooden building. We walked in and found that there were very few other patrons, which was the way we liked it so we selected a booth and sat down.  (There were little individual jukeboxes at each booth, but they did not work.)  We ordered food and while we waited for it I spread the GR map out on the table between us and began to peruse the phone book. In this manner I found several comic book stores, dance supply stores, record stores and thrift stores and marked their locations out on the map. (The excitement built) We consumed food, paid our bill, and walked out the door… into…HELL.  (Vergil did not accompany us.)

Hot Desert Sun preview image

Up until this point there had been a light cloud coverage which had offered protection from the relentless July weather but when we emerged from the diner all such cloud cover had completely dissipated, and the sun was now beating directly down on us in all its radioactive glory. It may in fact have been one of the hottest days on record in Michigan. The temperature was probably close to 135 degrees, the humidity close to 99.99%, and still our moods were unfazed. We had pocketfuls of money, full bellies, a whole day ahead of us and were absolutely 100 percent certain that somewhere out there, in the sprawling labyrinthine bustle of this place called “Grand Rapids,” there just had to be innumerable shops of varying degrees of awesomeness that had been designed just for us.  (And WHY hadn’t we thought of this before?)


We first headed towards Division Street, which wasn’t hard at all to find. It’s sort of like the North/South Main Street of Grand Rapids.  After investigating (and dismissing) a sort of dingy thrift store near downtown, we soon came across a veritable Mecca of used retail: The Downtown Grand Rapids Salvation Army.  It is three stories tall and has a basement,meaning there were in fact FOUR levels of thrift store shopping enjoyment.  Now what we should have done, in retrospect, was loaded my car up with tons of cool shit, drove back to Jackson, bought a pizza, and spent the rest of our day hanging out in comfort digging through all our new stuff and eating delicious pizza.  We didn’t.  We bought a couple things but figured, now that we knew about this place, we could go back there any time.  (We never dd.)


And so it was that we ended up spending the rest of our precious day just aimlessly driving from one end of Grand Rapids to the other, through blistering heat, infuriating traffic and a seemingly endless array of confusing detours and one way streets, none of which were indicated on the map.  In spite of the difficulty, I did manage to locate almost all of the places I’d marked out, but here’s the thing: they had all gone out of business. Every…Single…One.  And recently, it seemed, as we found, in each location, faded posters of Spiderman, dancing ballerinas, or Led Zeppelin concert posters lingering in the mostly boarded up windows, mocking us.  (…Mocking…Us.) It was like some massive city wide conspiracy set up just to frustrate us.


 At long last I had the presence of mind to pull into a gas station where I had spotted numerous payphones lining the parking lot.  (Remember those?)  I went into the store to buy a coke, so I would have change for the phone.  (As usual, I didn’t want to be That Guy That Just Came in to Ask For Change.)  There were still a couple possibilities left on the list. The plan was for me to call the numbers to see if any of the businesses still existed before continuing to waste our time and gas. I collected my change and headed back to my car, which had no idea that it was about to experience the worst moment of its existence. I pulled up to the first payphone and inserted the requisite 35 cents.  I poised my finger to begin pressing buttons. I said “OK gimme a number.”

L: “What?”

D: “A phone number!”

L: “A phone number for what?”

D: “A phone number for anything! A Dance Store, a Comic Book Store! Whatever!” (Hadn’t we discussed this?)

L: “All right all right. Don’t get violent!” (Apparently I get violent.)

As the number was being recited it was then that I realized the phone had no dial tone.  I was also unable to retrieve my 35 cents.  I kept my cool, however.  I pulled up to the next payphone, which was apparently meant for people to pull up to in large trucks, which meant I had to open my car door, and kind of stand up between my car and the phone. I put in 35 cents and prepared to dial.

D: “Ok give me a number.”

L:  “Huh?”

D: “A phone number!”

L:  “For what?”

D: “…”

A phone number was produced. I punched it in. A voice said, “Please deposit 35 cents” (Even though I had already done so.) I foolishly deposited 35 more cents, The dial tone continued until eventually a voice said “Please deposit 35 Cents.”

And this, my friends was the precise moment when I lost my cool. The first thing I did was send whatever change I had remaining in my hand scattering all across the parking lot in every direction. (Didn’t need it!  Fucking payphones weren’t working!)

I then plopped back into my seat and proceeded to slam the door closed with every ounce of strength in my body.  The door did not open again for several weeks.  At some point (weeks later) I did finally manage to force it open, at which point it would not latch.  (Ever again, in fact.)

Did you know I once had a really nice car?  It was one of these.


From that moment on I looked real stylish driving around in my almost brand new Chrysler Sebring Convertible with the driver’s side door bungee corded shut!

Thus ended our Grand Rapids adventure. We headed towards home. We did find one really scummy mall, where I purchased a couple of For Better or Worse Comic Strip Books, and a stereo cord of some kind that I wanted from Radio Shack. (there were only like five stores open in the whole place. out of what had once been about a hundred.  It was one of the most depressing places I’ve ever been in my life.)

Other than that not much happened. I seem to recall us arguing about a roadside Denny’s on the way back, as in whether or not to go in. (That might have been some other day.)

The End.

Want to Help Me Take My Beer Cans Back? (Great.)

26 Aug

I had been back to work from my vacation now for two full days yet I still had all these beer cans hanging out.  I figured it was time to haul them over to the grocery store and cash them in.


It was an extraordinarily nice day for August.  Usually the heat and humidity is unbearable, but after a rough week some cool winds had come in and blown all the nastiness away.  Plus it was delightfully overcast, keeping my mortal enemy, the sun, from bearing down on me.  I crossed the street and into the large park across from my apartment complex.


Between Two baseball fields.


Past this structure where homeless people often camp out.  (I mentioned it before here.)


Up this rather imposing hill. (It’s far more imposing in person, I assure you.)


And now I have to cross one of the most ridiculous intersections in the entire city, Jackson and Stadium.  I have invented many a new and exciting insult to shout at people as they nearly plow me down with their moron-mobiles.  Usually it’s something unimaginative like “Watch it, Shit For Brains!” but one of my favorites is “Watch it Shit n’ Sniff!”  (A “Shit n’ Sniff” is a person so scummy they like to smell their own fingers after every butt wiping.  It is also used to denote anyone in my way, at any given time.)  (For the most hilarious story ever about me almost getting run over by a scumbag driving an moron-mobile, click here.)


After making it to safety, I continue down the sidewalk.


And at long last, after a perilous journey I arrive at the plaza that houses my usual grocery store of choice.  (It also houses Westgate Animal Clinic, where I recently took Vader the Cat for fixing. They were very nice there, and I highly recommend them.)


I arrive at the entrance to the store.  As usual, there is a slow moving person in my way.  (Everywhere I go, there are slow moving people in my way.)


And now the time has come to dispose of the evidence of my vacation.


And what the hell is this sorcery?  Diet Coke!  Whaaaaaaat???


Ka-CHING!  (Michigan is one of the few places where we get 10 cents for our bottle and can returns.  Now before any of you out-of-staters get any wise ideas about hauling all your 5 cent cans and bottles here to cash in big time, just remember it didn’t work out so well for Kramer and Newman, in one of the most celebrated episodes of Seinfeld ever made.)


Then I walked into the store, and began the tedious task of trying to decide what I wanted to prepare for dinner.  Suddenly, after the grueling hike and the laborious task of putting all those cans and bottles through the recycling machine, cooking seemed like a chore best left for another day.  Still, I don’t want to be “The Guy That Just Came in to Return Bottles.”


…so I checked out the toy aisle, but nothing there struck my fancy.


So I bought a bottle of Coke and a bag of Skittles, cashed in my slips, and headed out the door.  Here is what I had achieved for all my troubles.


And I made my way out of the parking lot.


Across a not so busy street.


And down the hill towards Stadium, where all of Ann Arbor’s finest cuisine is located in one action packed area!  For instance, Cottage Inn Pizza.  (Not in the mood.)


Mickey DEEEEEE’S!!!  (Nope.)


Taco Bell.  (I already indulged in “Taco Tuesday” at work, so probably not…)


Subway?  Not today…


Ahhhh, now we’re talking.  Burger King.  Good ole reliable Burger King. (The king of burgers.)


I made my usual Burger King dinner choices, put it in my backpack, and prepared to make the long lonesome journey back to my abode, through hill…


and dale…


Across that busy intersection once again.


And back into the welcoming wilderness known as Vet’s Park.


A short detour takes us up to the top of the hill…


Where one can find one of my favorite views in the entire city.


In fact I like this shot so much, a couple years ago I started a project in which I was going to take the same picture every day for a year.  Like most things I do, I only made it about two thirds of the way through before I got bored.  But, seeing as how I’ve taken the pic again, maybe now is as good a time as any to start anew, especially since the one season I didn’t manage to capture was Fall, which is ironically my favorite time of year!


Down the hill and back through the passageway between two big baseball fields.


Across the street  and through the trees.


Where I find a welcome and familiar sight.


And inside to find my cats, very happy to see me.  Get a room you two!!!


Bon Appetit!


These Are a Few (more) of My Favorite Things

25 Aug

It’s that time again folks.  I’m feeling lazy, but there’s no way in hell I’m gonna drop the ball now with only a week to go on my self imposed “Blog a Day for the Month of August Challenge.”  So here is a mostly visual based blog, featuring pictures of more exciting selections from the official Domingosaurus “Archives of Awesomeness.”

First off, Me!  (From way back when I was cast in a Stephen King movie, oddly enough as female twins.  Let’s face it, it just doesn’t get much scarier than that.)



A beeramyd. An incredible feat of architectural engineering unmatched since the days of Ancient Egypt.  Unfortunately my cat Vader discovered it seconds after this photo was taken, and it became on incredible feat of instant chaos.


My ever expanding collection of vintage 70’s-80’s era Fisher Price Little People (and accompanying accessories and play-sets.)  Incidentally the more modern versions of these toys (which they still make) are fat and stupid looking which I suppose is a more accurate representation of today’s average American.  (Also I suppose so they’re not as easy to choke on.  Hmph.  When I was a kid we just knew better than to choke to death on our toys!)


A little ceramic bust of Neil Diamond.  (I don’t think I can really add to this with mere words.)


A very small sampling of my collection of VHS tapes.  Some movies really are better on VHS.  Like all the original Friday the 13th movies.  I actually love making a big bowl of popcorn, busting out one of several VCR’s I still have laying around, and popping some of these movies in once in awhile.  (Takes me back to the good ole days…)


Relatively recent Star Wars action figures of varying sizes.  (WILDLY varying sizes.)


And an assortment of VINTAGE Star Wars action figures, which are oddly enough all pretty much the same size.  (Most of these I’ve had since I was a kid.  Oh wait, did I say since I was a kid?  I meant since I was a much younger kid.)


A picture I drew of Boris Karloff.  (Every once in awhile I do some “arting.”)


A boxed set containing what is pretty much the Ramones entire discography.  (Total runtime: 25 minutes.)


OK I was kidding.  It takes at least 45 minutes to listen to every Ramones song.

My recent high scores at Galaga.  Read the names from top to bottom.  Uh huh.  That’s right.


A small portion of my glow in the dark ceiling.  It puts the local Planetarium to shame.


And to close out this post by using some of the most disturbing imagery I could find, here are a few instances in which I have badly cropped my own face into some of my favorite album covers.  (Have fun trying to sleep now.  I’ll be leering directly into your soul!!!)




Oh wait, one more of my favorite “things” in the form of my favorite Red Foreman quote:  “Good Night.  Sleep Tight.  And don’t let the bed bugs put their foot up your ass.”

Food Babe Is The Antichrist

24 Aug

“And when thy delicious generic orange soda begins to run clear, then shall thou know, the End of Days is Upon thee.”

-The Bible.  (Book of Flavor Flav.)


Anyone who has been reading my blog of late has possibly come to the conclusion that I am some kind of raging alcoholic.  This is actually not true at all.

I do have one major addiction however.  I am a soda junkie.  (I’ll wait for all the gasps of horror and murmurs of judgement from my readers to subside.)

Look I know the shit’s bad for me.  I drink it anyway.  I like it.  My usual beverage of choice is Coca Cola.  (Possibly the least healthy of all.)  But again, I like it.  No.  I love it.  There is not much of anything on Earth I enjoy more than an ice cold can of fizzy syrupy sugary goodness.  I love the taste.  I love the fizziness.  I love the acidic burn as it glides down my throat.  Ohhhh…Yeeeeah…


My second favorite type of soda is store brand fruit sodas.


For some reason, the more obscure and generic, the more delicious they are.  I particularly love going on out of state road trips, and purchasing store brand versions of all my favorite flavors from store chains I’ve never heard of.

There’s an Aldi just a couple minutes walk from my apartment, and they have a pretty good line of generic sodas with the very ambiguous brand name of Summit.  My favorites are grape, root beer, and orange.  (I generally don’t drink generic colas.  Probably because I love Coca Cola, and if I’m going to drink Cola, it’s going to be the Coca variety.)

So I picked up a 12 pack of Orange soda a couple days ago, which is something that I still get a little excited about whenever I decide to treat myself to it.  But as I prepared to put it in the fridge, I suddenly noticed something that froze my blood.  There was a label on the side of the box reading “Invisible Oranges!  New colorless formula!  Same Orange Taste!”  (It was a viscous pack of lies!)


This shit ain’t right

I know what I want, and what I want is for my Orange soda to be ORANGE!!!  I want my Grape soda to be PURPLE!  I want my Root Beer soda to be BROWN!!!  I knew immediately who was behind this atrocity;  an evil entity known as “The Food Babe.”  Alternately known as Vani Hari, she is a self proclaimed “food expert” who did all her “food research” by immersing herself in such acclaimed sources as Wikipedia and Google search.  She is responsible for the brilliant saying “If you can’t pronounce the name of something: don’t eat it!”  (Her real agenda is to suck the joy out of everything good and unnatural in my world.)


She has been largely discredited by the scientific community, yet she has still managed, mostly through the support of her giant herd of witless followers  (known as The Food Babe Army)  to have an influence on the food industry.  For instance, she already managed to ruin one of my favorite staples of childhood and adulthood alike:  Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.  Remember that delicious nuclear yellow cheesy goodness?  Well keep on remembering, cause memory is all we have now. (sniff…sniff…Never…(sniff).. Forget…)

mac n cheese

Brightly colored food is fun and delicious!  It seems painfully obvious to me that food simply tastes better when it comes in bright glowing primary colors.  I don’t know about you, but I for one am not looking forward to the day when we get all our nourishment from tubes of colorless food paste.  They tried to pawn something like this off on us once before.  Remember Clear Pepsi? (That’s right you probably don’t.)


Listen to me O ye of little faith.  The End of Days is nigh, and the fourth Horseman has reared it’s ugly head to glare down on us in judgement, and that fourth horseman’s name is Food Babe.


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The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

TBN Media

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael Rios

Sherlock unlocking the past


This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

Be Encouraged. Discover Happiness. Love Freely.


That's right! I write!

Forty, c'est Fantastique !

La vie est belle !

Mr Tookles

tee hee

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TV, movies, books…rants… just trying to put skills to use.


". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

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