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I'm not friendly enough for PG, and I'm two f-bombs short of a happy meal. So what am I?

I'm ambiguous.

You just never know what is going to come down the pike.

my castle

When I received the last installment of the Harry Potter series in the mail last week I also received a few advertisements, which I barely noticed, if at all. In my eagerness to open the book, I flung the useless pieces of paper out of the box, over my shoulder (not really, but its more dramatic when its over the shoulder and not pathetically to the side), and onto the floor where they sat for over a week contributing to the process of entropy that seems to have a continual and foreboding hold on my bedroom. (I like to blame my laziness and apatheticism towards picking up after myself on a philosophical term. It makes the whole mess less grotesque and less my fault.)

But today when it became dangerous beyond adventuresome to get out of bed I decided I needed to do something about this "natural" process that has suppressed the force (choice) that could keep my miniature fortress tidy. And lo and behold, what should I run into during my all out war on "nature" but an interesting advertisement (yes, one of the "useless" ones from last week). It was so interesting it threw me off my guard, I immediately surrendered to "nature", let the mess be, and have since then plotted myself down here in my wooden chair to tell you all about the poignant, funny, and maybe even useful (and yet ultimately pointless in the same way that a microwave TV might be) message of this advertisement.

I almost hate to go on now for the fear that the headline may not be worthy of the above two-paragraph introduction, but humor me if you will and forgive my embellished way of saying "I found a piece of paper on the ground and here is what it said: 'When you leave your castle, take your life with you.'"

Ba-dum cha!

Ya, that's it. It's an advertisement for a Seagate external harddrive. You know, the little tiny box thing you hook up to your computer for more storage space. What I found interesting though (and maybe even convicting, you know, yada, yada, the usual), is that it references your computer as your castle, your life. Sadly, I know exactly what the advertisers are referring to. The feeling of dominance and royal-ishness that comes with owning a computer and abusing the privileges it provides is akin to the feeling (in as much as I can speculate) of owning a castle, a fortress that stands for my might and ability to conquer. Or, like Lord Farquaad's castle-complex from the first Shrek movie, it could merely be a compensation for something, which is more likely in my case.

Funny? No?

Oh well....I guess you had to be there. It was much more useful and humorous when I read it the first time. So much so I just couldn't help myself and had to get on my computer and spout about it. You know, conquer a bit of space on the web, create a tower, and a portable one at that.

I'm sure there is a philosophical concept/term I could find to blame for my propensity towards creating and depending (you should see me when the power goes out) on my electronic, intangible, but PORTABLE(!), fortress. The term escapes me at the moment, but I'm sure their is one. There has to be. My actions, surely, couldn't be my fault.

Damn the English language! I need a term!

Behold! The beast itself......like a bubble getting read to POP and wither.

kill the fly. kill the dog.

"A goal is a dream with a deadline." - unknown

Well if that doesn't ruffle some of my feathers, nothing will. I now wonder if my goals have anything to do with who I am, or if they have more to with who I think I should be. It is the question of the hour. The question of this day. This week, month, year...my life.

I sense a night of earnest contemplation ahead, where the weighings of what is and what isn't battle to fill the void of my future. Sleep can wait. I'm not enthusiastic with life at the moment, so let's hope tomorrow isn't just another day, but is a different day. Like a musical track on repeat, my life is becoming annoying and predictable. For me, and for others. Now we don't want that, now do we? I think its time I freak myself out and jump the plank off of this sail-less, rudder-less ship and join the rest of humanity in the shark invested waters of growth and opportunity.

"Conscience is a nuisance. A fly. A barking dog." - Captain Argall, The New World

Kill the fly. Kill the dog.

theives, squirrels, fathers, and transvestites

"A 16-year-old Berlin student was so worried he would have to repeat a year at school because of poor marks he convinced two friends to storm his class and steal the report cards with his bad grades." - Reuters.com

Ya, steal the report cards. That'll do it.

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"An aggressive squirrel attacked and injured three people in a German town before a 72-year-old pensioner dispatched the rampaging animal with his crutch." - Reuters.com

Excellent. Go grandpa!

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The best Father's Day blog post I read last weekend.

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That's Christopher Walken on the left strutting his stuff in the remake of Hairspray. Pretty weird huh? Well that's nothing. Check out Madame Travolta on the right.

Don't believe me? Try this angle...



Still not seeing it? Here, try this one...



Yaaa, you see it noow, don't you?

Sleep well.

Is Harry going to die?

This question has been poking and taunting Harry Potter fans for several years now. But here we are, a mere two months from the answer, and I am rather nervous about it to be perfectly frank. After the stunt Rowling pulled in Half-Blood Prince (anyone who has read the book knows what I'm talking about) anything is possible at the moment. But, for time-wasting's sake I present a prediction, or two...or three (maybe even ten).

-------July 13 2007:
(1) Order of the Phoenix turns out to be most satisfactory blockbuster/"sequel" among the botched bunch of 2007.

-------July 21 2007:
(2) Harry Potter dies.

(3) Neville dies.

(4) Ron and Hermione profess their love for each other, get married (during battle), explicitly consummate it (during battle) and then die. (ha, just kidding...........they live and she's pregnant and they vow to name their child Harry, boy or girl).

(5) Voldemort (bless his black soul) is a goner as well. But only after he confesses that he is Harry's real father. Harry starts to cry, Voldemort starts to cry, they hug, Harry chokes Voldemort, then Harry commits suicide by wand (see #2).

(6) The only person who lives (for sure) is Ginny. I mean, where's the drama without a damsel in distress left behind, huh? Last page of book:

"Hermione, I'm pregnant," said Ginny. "And I think its Harry's."

"You think its Harry's?" questions Hermione.

The end.

-------July 2010:
(7) J.K. Rowling publishes Harry Potter, Jr and the Philosopher's Boulder.

-------July 2021:
(8) Seven books/movies later: Harry Potter, Jr and the Horny Hallows:
Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter, Jr: "I am your father!"
Draco Malfoy to Harry Weasley (a girl): "I am your father!"
Ron to Hermione: "I knew it! Her and her white hair!"
Hermione to Ron: "It was an accident!"
Snape to Hermione: "I am your father!"
Harry Weasley to Harry Potter, Jr: "I'm pregnant."

The end.

-------July 2030:
(9) The workings of Harry Malfoy-Potter the First and the Philosopher's Planet are found charred and burning under the charred, burning, and assassinated body of J.K. Rowling in the tower of her Hogwart's Castle looming 2500 ft. over Oxfordshire, England.

-------July 3000:
(10) James Cameron (having found Jesus' Tomb, the Tree of Life, and Middle Earth) is still thriving physically and financially at 146 years. He finds Platform 9 and 3/4, but dies soon there after due to head trauma caused by constantly running into brick walls on the off chance that he'd make it through. His body is thrown into the ocean, but his heart goes on.

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You'll see. That is what is going to happen. All in due course, my friends. All in due course.

i've been robbed!!!

I'm not sure if the theaters are trying to make my Pirates of the Caribbean experience actually feel more Piratey, but since when did it become legal to show a film before its release day? I treasure my midnight showings. The film could be a gawd-awfully smelly hunk of monkey crap, I never really care (although excellent films are an added bonus). It is the midnight showing experience that I actually go for. The communal buzz is infectious. It makes the film going experience more of a festival than an art gallery.

But now, to my horror, I have discovered that the theaters are showing 8:00, 8:15, 9:00, 9:45, and 10:00 o'clock showings before the midnight showing! This is...catastrophic! Sure, the buzz will still be there, but it won't be as strong and we won't be "the first" in our region. Not only that, but we'll hear all about the movie from the people walking out as we sit in line and wait to go in. Booooo!

*insert initial tremor of inspirational speech music here* The theaters have jumped our ship and stolen our treasure!!! Those filthy, greedy, piratey scumbags! We shall fight back! We shall fight to the death! *music swells* We shall stay our course *music swells some more* and not abandon our precious ship of ritual. Join me my fellow crazies and protest this monstrous and deceitful act. Grab your loins, laddies, let us hunt some theater managers!!! *insert "fields of pelennor" charge music here*

*grabs loins* Chaaarrge!!

***DISCLAIMER UPDATE***
It was 4 in the morning. Forgive me.

flattery, gas, and chirpy, chirpy, birdie par

I went to the union yesterday to get some papers filled out for work. The union representative said I look like Sanjaya.

"Who?" I said.

"Sanjaya," he said. "You know...that kid on American Idol."

"Who...I don't watch the show....?"

"Mr. Mohawk..."

"Oooh!...Really?"

"Ya, and you talk like him." (Gee, thanks. So I know I still have yet to hit puberty, but really now...)

Oh well, I am slightly flattered, I admit. We're alike in so many ways. He thinks too highly of himself. I think too highly of myself. I can't sing, and neither can he. He talks like Michael Jackson, he is unsure of himself, and he makes things awkward.

...alike in so many ways...

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In other off-the-cuff news today, I am going to try and stop peeling my nails. Unfortunately, that adventure looks dim and daunting because we don't have "Nail Peelers Anonymous" here in Orange County. I'm not sure I have the will power to withstand my urges. But I shall try somewhat valiantly to conquer this self-destructive behavior and put this phase of my life behind me like a trail of pestilent flatulence.

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I was watching golf on Sunday, which I rarely do, but it was on. And decided it was time to actually find out what a "birdie" is...

Bill Nye (the science guy): "DID YOU KNOW???"

birdie: a score of one stroke under par on a hole.
(thank you dictionary.com)

Um...what's "par"?

par: the number of strokes set as a standard for a specific hole or a complete course.
(thank you dictionary.com)

Bill Nye (the science guy): "NOW YOU KNOW!!!"

and just for kicks:

cinco/siete/cinco

haikus are the best
haikus are voluptuous
haikus should not rhyme

first post (cause I've never written a post before...)

Having a blog is so pretentious...I am pretentious...and to prove it, I'm going start using this thing again. Also, because you need to know, I am going to go do my homework.