In Greece, people use large wooden horse to get into Troy. In Michigan they use horse to get out.

The world of Detroit is akin to a planetary nebula. That's where a star about the size of our sun goes through its final death throws, expands to the size of a red giant, kicks off a ring of gas and dust and then finally collapses into its final form, a white dwarf. White dwarfs are cold and dim(relatively) remnants of extremely dense matter (they're the size of the earth with the mass of the sun) that no longer work as nuclear furnace. For all intents and purposes they're corpses that have retained some body heat. Detroit is like this. I think. Detroit, burned bright for most of the last century and now it's a remnant. While the suburbs seem to expand outwards forever. But it all looks about the same. Cookie cutter extruded mass of suburbia. It is a strange thing, we in America consider ours to be a melting pot culture. We are a microcosm of humanity. But when you get down to it, any city built in the last fifty years looks exactly the same as all of the others. Block after block, this maze runs. If you were to fall asleep in one of the suburbs of Detroit and awake in the outskirts of Indianapolis, I doubt that you would notice. We are diverse homogeneity, and I hate it. Our cities tend to grow more and more uninteresting with each passing decade. What brings this on? I got to spend the weekend in Troy Michigan, doing Data Entry for a pharmacy that was switching software. I spent 17 hours transferring patient records by hand from the old system to the new. Then afterwards I got to see a little of Troy. Worst Vacation Ever. The Onion has a wonderful story titled something like 'College Senior hopes she can turn love of Data Entry into Career in Data Entry.' Wonderful Satire. But for anyone who doesn't know, data entry is simply taking information from one source and inputing it into a computer database. It can be described in a word, Tedious. If I had to look forward to a future of Data Entry, I think I would open my own veins. If I had to The pharmacy was an interesting place, as these things go. They seem to have moved recently and were in a rather disorganized state. Fine, that makes the environs that much more interesting. A bit of clutter is nice and homey. Even if such isn't the ideal way to run a business. But as the weekend passed, the crew got things slowly squared away. It is a strange thing to drive two hundred miles and find things are similar to my own corner of the state. The Pharmacy in Troy seems to use the same distributor as does the two I've worked at here in town. So they have the same stickers on the same medication bottles. The drugs arrive from the distributor in the same dark blue, light blue, green and grey bins. One difference was somewhat cultural. On the west side of the state, it's a haven for Conservative Religious folk endemic in our nation. Christians mostly. Where they have religion at all, most are protestant. Black, white and brown seem to be the most prominent groups. The Troy Pharmacy was mostly, as was implied earlier, of folks who hailed form the Mid East. English and Arabic seemed to flow together, just like with Spanglish. Evil made the statement that it is disconcerting to hear a sentence almost entirely of one language that seems to flow around a single word from the other. They are like tantalizing scraps for an outsider to try to piece together the conversation from the bits and pieces that you understand. But anyone has heard Spanglish is familiar with the concept. Fascinating how two languages seem to inhabit the mind together. As someone who is unilingual, I wonder how multi-lingual folk engaged in the exchange decide when to flit back and forth. When do you decide that the German word for Panties isn't good enough, so you have to drudge up the Swahili equivalent? I would love to know how these choices are made and how conscious they are. But as someone who absolutely sucks at memorizing (I'm lazy and a language is made up of tons of sounds and their meanings that need to be memorized), I doubt I shall ever have the experience myself. Back to the office. It was a basement, a dungeon. Large and spacious, but lacking windows. I do love having natural light, it makes me feel human. I was lead to a cubical, mostly empty except for a chair and a computer. With a brief description of what I needed to do, I was left alone with a stack of papers. Behind me was a fellow who was listening to what seemed to be a religious broadcast. About Jesus and Islam. I'm not sure if it was pro-Christian, or trying to get Christians and Muslims to work together. From what I heard, it sounded like a little of A, while maybe trying to convert Muslims. The Preacher was performing a monologue about how important the prophet Jesus is to Islam, and how many Muslim kids are named after him, and maybe how the grass is greener over in Christianity. Has anyone else had an experience like this? Luckily I had my iPod. Oh iPod, you are one of the greatest inventions that humanity has yet devised! So, Data entry is how I spent my days in Troy. With a bit of religiosity and Metallica smattered within. How about the evening? We had a fine dinner of Olive Garden. I forswore the never ending pasta bowl, or whatever they call it. The food is of course tasty. But you can get it anywhere. According to Google there are at least three in the city where I reside. It'd be like visiting New York and patronizing Pizza Hut. Just get out, walk down the block, and find a good local restaurant! Though, I have no clue what sort of food Troy/Detroit might be famous for. There are a lot of Middle-Eastern folk, so Mediterranean food and Indian are my best guesses. - In our defense though, We're cheap and we had a gift card for Olive Garden. Free food isn't something Evil or I often turn down. Evil and I stayed at a place called the Candlewood Suites. Which was both awesome and lame. It's a hotel aimed at long term guests, and comes with a full kitchen, living area, and bedroom in each suite. Pretty damn cool, if somewhat old. Our suite had an aged television and a video-dvd player, which I expect is about par for the course. The kitchen is fully stocked with utensils and the inn offers a washing service gratis, as well as the free video lending library. But at the same time they seem to be rather laid back. Kind of how I would imagine a youth Hostel to be. I visited the video library, an eclectic collection of dvds and vhs tapes. I don't know who put it together, but they REALLY liked Steven Seagal. Vern has nothing on these folks, Though mostly it was Golden Era Steven Seagal. And I had already seen all the movies. Then there were the mysterious Bollywood tapes. They were encased in a plain white cardboard slip-case and had equally plain text on some tape denoting the name of the film and the major players. Tempting as these mysteries were to explore, I ended up folding to my inner historian and choosing The Assassination of Jesse James ETCETERA, a historical docudrama about said man and event. Three hours long it was, so I never got to the part about the assassination. Only that James and the people around him were fucking dicks. That was enough for me to hope that the Yankees would come back through and put a torch to that part of Missouri. Sunday saw more data entry – followed by pay and release. Freedom to leave Detroit. Judging by the traffic flowing out from the city, I am not alone in that sentiment. Most people were flying out of the city, like it was infested with zombies and on fire to boot. 80MPH+. Swerving like mad. One fellow we saw barely slowed down when they got off the highway and onto a ramp. It was good to be free of the city and on our way back home. Next week, Travers City Michigan.

Ninjas. Oh Ninjas. where have you gone?

The Ultimate Ninja 1986

I have been watching ninja flicks since I was a child of seven. Ever since I heard the older (and thus cooler) kids talking about how totally sweet ninjas were (really, that's how I got into Voltron too). They could do things like run across a forest floor that was littered with dry leaves and twigs without making a sound. That's really all I remember of the conversation. But I was hooked.

Ninjas, hell yeah! I watched a lot of crappy ninja flicks as a kid. And I still have a soft spot for the genre today. This is why we are here now.

Opening splash music sounds like it was ripped off of Star Wars. Just to get that out there right off the bat. It sounds like they took two separate themes from the original trilogy and slapped them together.

And that seems to be a theme for this movie, The Ultimate Ninja.

Two movies mashed together. Two different casts. They were probably made in separate decades. Did someone say muddled? Well they should have. I don't know why they felt the need to pin these movies together. But, I don't understand the workings of the film industry.

It opens up with the leader of the Red Ninjas praying and working the forms. Notice, he's a blonde dude of possible Scandinavian origins and he's wearing a headband with a picture of a Ninja right in the middle. On one side of the Ninja are the letters NIN and the other? JA. Reminds me of the SNL commercial selling this Every time the headband was splashed across the screen, I giggled like a small child.

Red Leader then ambushed by a group of Black Ninjas. The Red Ninjas' mortal and eternal foes. Red Vrs Black. Checkers. Ants. Ninjas. This dichotomy represents a truth that is common in our lives. The Red leader is murdered and the Black Ninja Statue is taken by the Black Leader. Then comes Charles, the Second in Command of the Red Ninja Brotherhood.

Chuckles helps fight off the evil Black Ninjas, but he's too late. His master has been killed. Now he's been named the New Red Leader. Mind you, there only seem to be two Red Ninjas, they have a Master/Padawan relationship ala the Sith Jedi. He is given the task of retrieving the statue. A little plastic nick-nack with the word Ninja written across the forehead. If you collect both statues, Black and Gold, you gain Real Ultimate Super Ninja POWER! Zam!

The rest of this half is the Red Ninja slowly killing the Black Ninja's minions one at a time as they're sent to assassinate him. Finally leading up to the show-down. This seems to be more of a traditional ninja movie, one where the warriors have awesome mystical powers like invisibility, a sixth sense, and teleportation. Effin sweet!

The entire thing smacks of a short, and one that I'm hoping was intended to be in part humorous. I hope so, as it is so absurd I would like to think that the filmmakers intended the jokes to be there. I mean really, a ninja wearing a headband that said 'ninja'? That's the kind of thing I would have worn when I was 8 (I did have the Karate Kid headband of awesome at one point - came with a shirt).

Now we cut to movie number two. It's not a really ninja movie. It's a lame kung fu film. With some 'clever editing' and voice dubbing in a single scene, the two movies are spliced into one. Actually at times, until the end it seemed like they had edited together three different films.

Lame movie two has a fully Asian cast. Not sure where from. IMDB says Hong Kong, and some of the names are Chinese. But others look more Thai. Maybe it was a a collaboration in the art of FAIL.

The story goes as so. Twenty years ago the bad guy named Rodger kills the protector of a town. In the battle, he allows Rodger's children to flee. Now, twenty years later, one of the sons is finishing his kung fu training in a land far away and is intent on finding his lost siblings and avenging their father.

Rodger has since settled down to a cozy life of charging the villagers 'rent' and hanging with his bitchy wife. Most of his minions are trained in kung fu, and they're rather dickish bullies who try to have their way with the villagers. Hijynks ensue. And rather lame battle scenes where the thugs beat down on the villagers and try to rape them and what-not. This is after all what thugs do.

The main hero in town is the martial arts teacher's daughter. Mostly she's passive and unwilling to lift a finger. Then strangers start appearing in town. The first is an older dude with receding hair. His Kung fu is ok, but he gets a beat down at the hands of the Heroine, if that's what she is. Difficult to tell.

Then a big bald dude appears. He's about a head taller than the other men and he fights like the stereotypical American in these movies (he resembles an Asian Yul Brynner) basically he soaks up damage and hits hard while employing moves that would make Hulk Hogan shed a tear of joy. He appears to possess psy-powers. I guess. It's implied when he keeps pointing at his head to the sound of strange music, but they don't really seem to have much effect.

They don't explain why the strangers are about. They just show up and leave randomly.

Finally, the original hero character arrives in town. And the lame sounds of frozen meat Foley effects fill the air!

Well, you can watch the rest.

The final high point of the entire film, the unintentional hilarity aside, was the single female breast. Just the one. You really only see it from the side. Yeah, sometimes I think like a 15 year old with scrambled Skinemax.

Beer Fest!

Beerfest. Where people drink beer and listen to bands play. A straight-forward and simple plan of action one would be compelled to believe. And they would be right. That's all a beerfest really is. Founders seems to draw two types in particular. The Bros – as there is beer, add that to the fact that there are other Bros to rape, and you get a feeding frenzy. Group two is the Hipsters. Since the festival seemed to be infested with non-hipsters(the Bros as well as others) I'm wondering if the Hipsters are only showing up out of a sense of irony.

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I don't drink. No reason why, I just don't. And I don't have a passion for music. I like music, even love it at times. But there's no burning desire to ensconce myself in front of a stage and press my head against the loudspeaker until my ears bleed. I'm perfectly content with canned music since, unless I'm dumb it doesn't damage what little I still have left of my hearing.

The bands ranged from OK to interesting, what I could hear. Eventually the music was droned out by the noise of conversation. There's that buzz that it becomes when hundreds of people are talking at once and the sounds cease to be meaningless and become noise. Often background noise. When I notice the buzz, it begins to freak me out. The hum is unescapable and wears at my fragile mind.

The noise makes even brief attempts at conversations rather self-defeating, which kills the mental stimulation that I need. Something to think about please. So, I begin to daydream about seeing epic Street Fighter style battles between the Bros and Hipsters. It's great. Just imagine seeing a Hipster yell Haduken! And throwing a ball of energy at a Bro. Fun times.

So, the concept on most levels is rather dull for a non-drinking hermit like myself. The only real draw? People watching. And a truer definition: Oggling Girls in their summer clothes. As I recall, scantily clad members of the female sex is a regular theme here on this blog. Comic con? Girls cosplaying. Rennfest? Girls cosplaying. I am a broken record. But as a creepy old shut-in, girls in revealing outfits are rare indeed in my usual domain. I'm forced to head out into the world to see them in their natural habitat.

This is worth the venture.

Note: Leering and drooling, are not socially acceptable behavior. Just passing on the hard won wisdom.

What else is there to say? The attention whores show up in droves to these events. Much like the cosplayers at nerdier events. Actually, exactly like cosplayers. The most notable was the Ent. See pic below. But others were the hula-hoopers. Dunno how they fit in, but there was a booth renting/selling hula hoops, so it can't be a new phenomenon. Founders Fest was a strange sight, and I am on the fence whether or not I enjoyed it fully.

Even Further adventures in bad Cinema. shoot me please.

I find it confounding how often I see the hyperbole 'wurst m0vie evar!' tossed about the internets in articles at various sites. The most recent stake that has been brought to my attention being a cracked post about the only martial arts movie ever made in Ireland, a flick titled Final Deviation. So he wanted to write a funny article about a poorly conceived and executed film. Unfortunately, I couldn't laugh along. Worst move ever? Not remotely. It doesn't even approach the title of worst Martial Arts movie ever(Man, have you seen Steven Seagal's recent work?).

Final Deviation, just in brief, is about an Irish martial artists(He resembles an angry primordial Alex Winter) who returns home from Asia to try and rebuild his life. Before he left home in the first place his father was murdered. It involves a powerful magnate and his thugs. A reasonably pretty girl with large breasts who is coveted by the Magnate's son/nephew/whatever. The town they live in features a martial arts tournament, for which the locals are die-hard fans. Don't get me going on the Monk. I don't know which order he was from, but he's clearly Irish Catholic. White beard, long brown robes and all. But he still becomes the Kung Fu Bill's mentor.

Basically, it's like the director took a script written in Hong Kong for a movie set in China, and then just nominally replaced everything with an Irish veneer and called it good. The acting is bad. The dialogue is extremely lame. The entire set up is absurd. Really, a Catholic sect of Kung Fu monks? The movie is pretty damned bad all around and is well worth a write-up on Cracked. I was actually rather pissed off that my source of self-inflicted pain, Netflix, didn't carry this monstrosity. Oh well, it is available for the moment on Youtube. In 9 parts. Look it up.

Now, Final Deviation is a sad sight to see. That people spent so much time on such a poor quality product is depressing. This being said, it doesn't remotely compare with the likes of say TNT Jackson. A 70s Blaxploitation-ChopSocky movie that seems to have been cast on the basis of 'she was a Playboy playmate! She has tits! She's gorgeous!' The rest of the details would take care of themselves.

Detail number 1: TNT, like every other Blaxploitation star of the era(with the exception of Foxy Brown who studied Bar Stool), knows Karate. According to the script. The luscious Jeannie Bell didn't know karate from kumquats. Did I mention that she was a Playboy Playmate and sported an awesome rack? This is important, they have a topless fight scene(in which between cuts her panties magically change color and cut several times). But that's OK, the light skinned dude that they got to be her stunt double had a decent grasp. In Final Deviation, the star was a capable physical performer, his poor acting aside. They didn't need to put a Chinese dude into Brogue Shoes and a Grandfather shirt to cover for him.

The rest of TNT Jackson is over the top and ridiculous, as one should expect from a low budget 70s Blaxploitation flick. It is thoroughly enjoyable for what it is and makes a good movie night feature if you have the right crowd in the proper mindset.

TNT Jackson, the failure pile in a sadness bowl that it is, still stands head, shoulders and balls over the movie that I rate the all time worst. Dark Havest 2: The Maize. I at one point got it into my head to watch the bottom 100 in the IMDB's worst movies list. Dark Harvest 2 was both the beginning and the end of that experiment. I was done, game over, to hell with this idea. I even watched two packs of the Mill Creek 50 movie box sets. You know, the ones where they slap 50 public domain movies onto 12 dvds and say 'here ya go, that'll be $15!' Yeah. I did THAT to myself. I'm like an EMO kid with my constant cutting, only the scars run far deeper. Dark Harvest 2 broke me of that habit. Mostly.

Watch the trailer.

Did you see that? That should have been the director's cut of the movie. At 2.5 minutes long they managed to use up all of the dialogue and action from the script, and they still had to pad the fucking thing out by another 97.5 minutes. 97.5 minutes of corn. And people running through corn. With a 10 minutes interlude dedicated to the protagonist digging in dirt, while the implied villain sneaks up on him. 10 minutes! Did they use every single frame of footage that they captured?

As of 6.16.2011, Dark Harvest 2 as 1928 votes on the good ole IMDB. 322 of of the people who voted gave the movie 10 stars. All I can think of is wow, that cast and crew has a lot of family members. Because nobody else, who has seen this movie, would honestly give it more than a 1. And the 1 rating only because negative numbers aren't possible. A handful of kind hearted folks rated it a 2. The rest of the people to voice their opinion must have been voting 'ironically'. Or just hitting random numbers. This is proof that Democracy doesn't work.

Or maybe they were responding to the trailer. The trailer is a solid 4. Perhaps even a 5.

Why did I pay money for that? It still pisses me off.c

My half-assed adventure in Agriculture.

An update! How exciting!

The problem with writing an adventure blog, even ones that are rather lame, is that you need to actually go on adventures for material. Obviously, my definition of 'adventure' is rather broad in that I write about any experience that is new or at least unusual for me. Which is why I've been holding off on my half-assed adventure in going to the super-market, as that would sink into the realm of no-assed. If you've been reading along and paying any attention, it is likely that you've come to the conclusion that I am an exceedingly boring person.

Congratulations Captain Obvious.

Well, back to the adventures, and the general lack there of. Back in January of 2010, I quit a job that I hated and proceeded to delve into the ranks of the unemployed. I did this during a recession, with no other prospects lined up. Dumb, I know. I usually don't leap like that, and my reasons were stupid. But I still feel it was one of my best decisions.

August of 2010 saw me re-employed but worrying about the age of my car and replenishing some of my spent savings. March 2011 saw my job disappear once more. Yep, no more driving to Ann Arbor to drug mule for the ungrateful crazies, or the patients. Amid a steep incline in gas prices(currently up over $4.00 a gallon) All in all, it's been a light year for traveling and adventures.

So, I've not done much and I've traveled less. Not too much different from when times are good!

In short, to summarize my motives in a couple sentences: The apocalypse is coming. When it does I'm pretty sure that grocery stores will have long lines. I hate waiting in line.

I am fascinated by the self-sustained and self-reliant lifestyle. I would like to experiment with growing my own food and generally living off the land. Ideally, I would set up a studio to work making pottery. I'd like to take up black-smithing. And then sell my creations. All with my beautiful wives Rosario Dawson, Emma Watson and Cristina Hendricks. I'd like. I'd like. I'd like. Problem here is that I don't see a way to make this sustainable. Unless I went the hot robot wife route.

I call this Kicking it Thoreau Style. (The hooking up with three exceedingly hot movie stars aspect of the Walden Experiment was in one of the lost appendixes).

Anyhow, all of that rambling is to set up this simple statement. I planted a garden. This combines steps 1 through 3 in my mind. Step three isn't big profit. Actually, 'big profit' and 'farming' seem to be mutually exclusive. 'Bankruptcy and despair' seem to fall in line more with 'Farming' these days.

I've never grown vegetables before on my own initiative. My folks have put in a couple gardens when I was growing up(Between ten and fifteen years ago). My grand-parents grow their own vegetables. And supposedly I come from farming roots on my Mother's side. So, I've been exposed. But sitting back and watching is different than setting off on your own.

The first problem is of course, my lack of experience. Secondly, we live on the second floor of our house and don't have any land. That means the garden has gone into planters(buckets that came full of cat litter) and hiding behind windows. Great, we don't have to worry about wild birds and animals ganking our bounty. We just have the tame cats instead.
I've been contemplating this for a few months now actually. So hopefully it works out. If not? Well, then I've learned something along the way.

Step 1: Getting the supplies.



We went to Home Depot and spent at least an hour wandering around as I only had a rather fuzzy idea of what I wanted to 'accomplish' with this entire mess. Thus the Underpant Gnome reference. First there are the basics: Pots, soil and the like. The common denominator that every gardener needs to grow plants. We grabbed a 2.5 cubic foot bag of potting soil, which is a lot of dirt. We already had some containers that would work as pots.

All this leaves was deciding what kinds of food we wanted to attempt and grow. First on the list was a handful of herbs. Basil, Oregano, Thyme, Sage and Rosemary. Just a bit of Parsley short of a grand day at Scarborough Faire. For the actual veggies, we rocked with pole beans, snap peas, tomatoes, peppers, and finally lettuce. Yep, we're rocking for salad. Might make us healthier in the end. Or we'll have a lot of dead plants on our hands.

Step 2: Bringing all that shit home and hauling it upstairs. This is a step by itself.

Step 3: Plant garden. We opted for a mix of seeds and seedlings. Seedlings when we could get them, and pure seeds when we couldn't. I spent the morning transferring soil to the 'pots' and trying to recall what I remembered about transferring seedlings and planting seeds. It doesn't help that the instructions on the seed-packets were less than helpful. Or I TLDRed it before I got to the helpful part. What? The packets are bright and colorful and very distracting. And I got to play in the dirt, something I've been missing since graduating.

since we're indoors, and we have cats, we've needed to devise a way to keep the plants off the floor and get them closer to what little sunlight gets through the windows(eves really kill direct sunlight). This is my biggest worry, killing the plants with shade. Right now I've opted for an old bookshelf. Will need to modify it later. Good thing I have tools and little sense.

So ends part 1. According to the packets, There should be some movement on part of the sedds within two weeks.

The hardcore life of a drug mule.

I got to do some drug-muling this week. Boy was it fun.

Wait, that sounds like an actual adventure, and not a twisted half-mirror image of one. I work for a pharmacy that specializes In supplying long term care facilities. Most facilities are on a 30 day cycle for their medications, meaning that they generally get one large shipment every 30 days. With exceptions being made for emergencies and new prescriptions. But all in all days are spent packing tens of thousands of dollars of medication for one delivery. All your eggs in one basket indeed.

Let me explain something about the facility in question. First, it is a depressing place to visit as they take care of and house car accident victims. I don't mean people who broke an arm in a car crash, I mean the folks who have come away permanently changed. Or just aren't there any more. One of the most depressing set of instructions ever seen on a script is probably "Apply to stumps." Really, when it comes to a place like this, those what die are the lucky ones. The rest are just vegetables and shells. Which is why, that if I get into an accident, I hope to buy the farm immediately.

I think that 16 year old kids, and people on DUI charges should be forced to visit... no, work at a place like the Facility. Videos and brochures and slogans are all nice, but you need to be able to experience in all visceral sensual detail what their decisions could lead to, either for themselves or for others. Let them apply ointments to the stumps of a vegetable for a few weeks. Let them interact with the brain-scrambled denizens that poke and prod and generally go on crazy.

And if they fail to learn the lesson, shoot them, as anyone that thick shouldn't be allowed to breed.

In seven months, this is the third time I've taken cycle to the Facility. The first time was because our driver decided to take a day off right as cycle was due. This was about two weeks after I started. I got to drive across the state and deliver the cycle. Which is for our little company a very big deal. Almost like, oh I don't know, some asshole captain of an oil tanker in say Alaska skiving off to get drunk and handing the job over to the peon who washes dishes. Except that I avoided grounding on any reefs.

This is all just to say, muling isn't my usual job, I just step in when needed.

Our driver promoted himself to the head of the delivery department. This happened when one of our competitors imploded and our business quadrupled in like a week. So they brought in a ton of new people and a half-dozen new drivers. Here's where my confusion begins, they have a load of drivers who are fully capable of taking an object from point a and leaving it at point b and then returning home. They have one woman who is dedicated to this route. Plus the self-styled manager of the delivery department carried cycle to this very Facility at least ten times in the past year, plus near daily visits in between.

When he stepped up, he gave his job to an older woman. One who has yet to win the confidence of some of management in her ability to take an object from point a and point b and then return. She's pissed off the goblin that works at the Facility, who just happens unpleasant creature who doesn't seem to like anyone or anything. So I was asked to go along to make things smoother.

Which brings me back...

It turns out that I wasn't just along as extra muscle, I was the actual driver and delivery monkey. This is a one person job, and I would have preferred to do it alone. Or better have our main driver take over.

If one of his hand picked followers is incapable of doing the job, shouldn't the head of the shipping department be the one who steps in? It's not like the man is busy, his days are spent chatting on the phone and taking two hour lunch breaks at Hooters. Yeah, this is great. I'm doing his job. I hope I get paid extra for it. I would like to be the head driver for a day. Hang out at Hooters. Wreck the company bathroom. Take an hour to fill one car up with gas. Creep out the female members of the staff and get away with it.

The drive over went quietly and smooth. How I like it.

There was yelling when we arrived, or so I heard tell of later. The warthog wasn't too pleased to see my copilot. She came out of the South Building and yelled "Don't you know where South is?" I pointed at the building and responded "Yeah, It's right there!" Had I wanted to see a real explosion, I could have said "Do you need directions?" But I like having my testicles whole and attached to my person, so I kept my mouth shut.

Beyond this, the delivery went rather smoothly. Dropped off meds, saw pretty girls. That's the one reason for a Facility visit for me, they have a lot of pretty girls working there. My company is sadly lacking on that front. Gotta go out and visit other companies to see natural beauties in their wild habitats. With luck, maybe I'll bring one home one day.

During the second to the last stop, one of the more mobile patients approached my copilot and asked a simple question "Did it hurt?" Now there are two possible reasons that I can think of for this question, and sadly he didn't opt for the first and instead finished with one of the classic pick-up lines. Only to immediately dive into a second, followed by a third. My copilot giggled the whole time. We don't think she usually gets that sort of attention.

A second high-point, if it can be considered so, involved an idiot man-child. Now, when you stand in the center of a group of angry women, and then make what can be considered sexist statements to them, you should expect to get a beating. He didn't seem to make that connection as they slapped him. He even asked why I didn't man up and help him. I called him a moron. That got a laugh.

Then the return trip. The trip out was quiet, the one back not so much so. I got to hear about the yelling, and autistic grand children and about a dozen other topics of less interest. I thought about the pretty girls.

My favorite quote from the entire experience was "Animals are alive." This wasn't from a head-paitent or a random crazy hobo, but my copilot just after we narrowly missed turning a living breathing turkey into something that could be squeezed through a feeding tube. I don't know what she meant by it - I think that this was my "If it weren't for my horse" moment. I've tried to dissect the statement, and the best I can come up with was that it was a philosophical observation about the changing of the weather and how animals seem to just re-appear again.

Or maybe she's just dumb.

Hercules Two: Clamation Boogaloo.

Adventures of Hercules
Lou Ferrigino

They made a sequel? Sweet Zombie Jesus, you have to be
kidding? Did they even watch the first movie before they slammed
down their cash to make the second? I thought not. Well
It's been two whole months, and then some, since I finished the Lou
Ferrigno Hercules movie. It took that long for the effects to
wear off and for me to recover from the shock. Unlike the first
movie, I managed to watch the entire thing without using the fast
forward button once. Like the first one, I had to turn the beast
off for a day and come back to it. It made my brain hurt.

Where to start. Well this movie seems to have been made by the
exact same people in the exact same style as the last. Same
cheesy 'special effects', same crap-tastic costuming, hell it even had
the same actors and the same freaking villain! I kid thee not,
the same actor playing the same villain. They resurrected the bad
guy, because he was oh so tough, you know with all the dieing he
managed to do in the end, and they used him again. Yeah, be
afraid Herc, be very afraid.

That's right. They resurrected King Minos, the evil user of
science, to fight against the power of the vaguely benevolent Gods and
the natural order of the universe. Was this movie funded by the
Roman Catholic church? I mean really, evil science? Science
the cause of chaos? In the end Minos didn't get any wicked ass
gizmos in which to battle the other bad guys with, he gets magic eye
beams, and a magic flaming sword. Make up your minds damn
it. is he supposed to be using a kick ass orbital death-ray
launched by the evil United States, or is he using the evil black
magic, invented by the United States? One or the other please.

Well the second movie actually seems to follow a plot that is at times
nearly makes sense. Well the story goes that Zeus' six magic
thunderbolts of something or other were stolen by some rebellious
goddesses led by Hera. These disaffected Hippies, thought to
gain, I'm not quite sure why they did it, but they did it anyway.
Well, yeah that's great, the thunderbolts are missing, the world is in
danger, send the Hercster to the rescue!

Well first of all, before all that started, some evil priests were
sacrificing a scantily clad babe to some god or demon of fire.
Two other scantily clad babes watch the goings on, and decide that they
don't like what they see, so they go for help. They consult a
pair psychedelic butterfly women, who tell them they need the help of
Hercules, and they'll find him in the forbidden valley. Just a
note, there's always a forbidden valley it seems in fantasy movies, and
the valley is forbidden for a very good reason. People in these
movies never seem to remember this fact.

Well The Herc gets to earth. The first thing he runs into is a
creature that I suppose is a werewolf, only it looks more like a
Greying cousin It from the Adams family, who happens to be wearing a
cheap baboon mask, with some dog-like sound effects added on top.
I'm not making this up, nor do I wish I were capable of making
something like this up. Brain Damage! Sadly the rest of the
movie doesn't get any better.

Once again to the so called special effects. The costumes are
cheap, both for the main human characters and for the monsters that
they fight. Some of the monsters use animation techniques.
Not that fancy-schmancy computer stuff, but the old fashioned
way. So old fashioned it seems, that they felt that they were
making it up as they went along. The stop-motion claymation that
they made use of, was out-done by such 1950s and 1960s fare as the
Sinbad films and Jason and the Argonots, not to mention Clash of the
Titians. No, it seemed more like a bad Gumby short at
times. The rest of the animation was just simplistic color,
bright primary hues mostly. Flat and boring.

Oh, I can't forget my favorite part of the movie, the Amazons fight
scene. Chicks with guns kick ass. It is a proven
fact. Much ass is kicked by chicks with guns. I cannot
reiterate this enough. Imagine my surprise and delight when the
Amazons were about to attack. And then disappointment when I
discovered it was just a bunch of men in drag. That's right kids,
rather than getting real amazon like women, they just dressed men up in
drag, gave them fake breasts and everything, and then dubbed it all
over with womens voices. No wonder the Amazons lost, not only
were they poseurs, they were also a group of confused young men.

Then there were the absolutely confusing aspects of the movie.
Zeus, at one point, confronts his arch nemesis chaos. I shall now
recreate the scene for you...

Chaos-chick: We're a lot alike you know, we balance things
between us?

Zeus: Oh yeah? Well poopy head, I gots me the time on my
side baby!

*A giant animated skull comes down and zaps her with a death-ray*

Zeus: Eat it clown!

I don't get it either. It seemed random, like it was added simply
for the chance to let their effects crew draw a giant skull and then
have it attack someone. The entire movie was like that. It
also went along with the first flick in it's blatant attempts to
butcher the original classical mythology. Though at least this time
there weren't any giant robots to fight against. The movie did
make a fair attempt at destroying my sanity and giving me epileptic
seizures. Why did I pay money for this crap?

The worst part is, I have failed to learn my lesson and keep watching crappy movies.