How to make a couple million, and make America Stupid

Bring it on, Drumline, 'cuz You got served. Three movies, same fucking story. Here's the math:

Add one part competition.
One part Ethnic coolness.
One part racial tension.
One part Top 40 soundtrack.
One part "evil cool guy".
Then, subtract the following;
Creativity
Storyline
Plot
Good Acting

What you get is a piece of shit. But there's a special ingredient needed to make these films suspensful. Ready?




A TIE!!!!

No, not a decorative piece of neck clothing, but a situation which requires the two opposing forces to face off and show their shit.

But let the underdogs win. For God's sake, don't forget that.

I just cannot stand these droves of mindless media that are attacking the youth and telling people what is cool. You got served is not about breakdancing. All dancers like that are in fact homosexual. I'm sure there's a union.

Cheerleading is stupid. No movie on earth can make cheerleading cool. Nobody gets pepped up by your cheers. We're waiting for a panty shot, or a boob to fall out. That is all.

And marching band is for nerds. Period. Sorry Adam, but it's for nerds. I love percussion, but there is no need to sit down and watch Mr. Cannon try and act street in fucking band class.

Also, there is nothing fast and furious about Paul Walker or whatever. Dude couldn't sound more white trying to sound more black if he tried. I think he's trying. Unless he actually buys into his own bullshit. "Hey bro, listen to me." God damn.

Then they had to go make fucking Biker Boyz and Torque 'cuz the two wheeler cock feelers couldn't be left out. I know there's a Semi-Truck movie coming out soon....wait....something's coming to me...ahh yes.

Black Dog. Perhaps that steaming pile of failure is the reason all of these crap movies started. But for some reason, I'm hard pressed to believe that MeatLoaf is capable of starting a diet, let alone a hollywood trend.

Liquid Courage

So I get a call last night from my boss. Christmas eve, and some numbskull client can't figure out his fucking audio/video system. He's a big wig for the local newspaper, so it's a big deal. Now I've already had a couple of drinks in me, so I agree to call the guy and see if I can walk him through it.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I was unable to help him. I tell him that I'll call my boss and see if he approves an after hours service call. I radio my boss and then the damnest thing happens. My testicles inflate to nearly three times their size. My chest puffs out like a fat belly after being released from a belt.

"Hey Boss, I'll make a deal with you. I'll do this service call, even though I've had a few to drink, and it's Christmas Eve, on one condition. I want paid holidays," I tell him.

Silence on the other end.

"What?" he replies.

"I'll do this if you agree to pay all my holidays from here out," I repeat.

"Done. Just don't tell anybody," he agrees.

Now there are around 45 employees in this company. Only about 5 or 6 get paid holidays and they're the ones who have been there for 10+ years. So now I'm stoked.

I have the wifey drive me to their house and I fix their shit in less than an hour. The guy and his wife are greatfull, and he palms me a c-note for my trouble.

It was a great night.

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Merry Christmas to all my friends and crap. Sorry you didn't get any presents. Or cards. You probably won't even get a phone call. Unless I decide to drunk-dial tonight. Deal with it. That's the price to pay to know me.

Gayer than a rainbow with astroglide...

Now, I've seen some gay shit in my life. I've had friends tuck their nuggets between their legs and introduce me to their sister. My uncle is gay and his boyfriend is the personal assistant to Bob Mackie (sp?) the famous gay fasion designer. Hell, I"ve even been offered to have sex with a man in a public restroom. (Serg, No means NO!)

But these butt-pirates top the cake for the day. Peep Game.

Just a little something to make you feel better for checking out that guy's ass on the subway the other day, you fucking homos.

Office Party, White Elephant, and Alcohol

(click picture if you're too old to read small shit)


So I just started at this new company and we had our Office Christmas Party last night. It was at this fancy little bistro called The Rusty Duck in Sacramento. I arrived only to meet the female sales gal fucking blitzed already. But this was a good thing, since she was in the process of purchasing drinks for everyone. I settle down at the bar and let her buy me a jack 'n' coke. I spent the next two hours getting to know the people I really only meet in passing as I pick up my gear to go install. For the most part, it was pretty non eventful. Having one drunk salesperson after another buying me drinks was nice though.

This was also my first experience with a White Elephant gift exchange. If you ever want to feel like total shit and enjoy doing it, try it for the first time. I was told that the monetary amount was to be between $10-15. So, being broke, I root through my DVD collection. I found an un-opened copy of Party Monster. I figure it's wacky, silly, and the right price range. I was told by family and friends that a White Elephant gift exchange entails bringing a silly gift. So my choice in movie would be appropriate.

I had the neighbor gift-wrap the movie, since I'm a loser with no Xmas paper handy. She did a real fancy job, so I thought I was set. However, minutes before my DD (designated driver) showed up, I notice my son come out of his room with a movie in his hand. Upon closer inspection, I notice that it's Party Monster, completely unwrapped. So I'm fucked, the neighbors aren't home, and the paper is in shreds.

I hear a honk in the driveway. I grab the cover off the recent rolling stone, crunch it around the movie, and wrap it up with white elecrtical tape. Looked dope.

Fast forward back to the party. All the gifts are sitting on the table, wrapped all pretty and shit. Real fucking cute. And there's my gift looking like it was done by my son. Which technically, was true. We have our dinner, which was great, followed by a Dom Perignon (sp? if you know how, then fuck off, I'm lazy) toast. Then the gift exchange starts.

The first fucking gift is a fucking Crown Royal gift set with two high-ball glasses. I'm like, "Fuck, this is going to be embarrasing." Gifts that followed included, Baileys Irish Creme, a Bar set, $25 Home Depot cards, dope candle sets, and a Spongebob TVGame. Upon seeing that last item come out I gank it from the fool that opened it. See, shit that other people open can be stolen twice by other participants, and then it's their's to keep. So I'm the first one to steal it.

I come back from the bathroom after my 8th drink, and announce loudly to the group, "Hey, Hey, Hey, seriously, I just want to let you know that none of you bastards better steal that spongebob game from me. My son is a fucking spongebob freak. He's a cute little boy with cancer and he would KILL FOR THAT SHIT!!"
There were a few laughs and go sit down.

The gift exchange continues and my gift is the LAST FUCKING ONE ON THE TABLE. So you know the suspense when it comes to the last gift. I decide this is a good time to go to the bathroom again, so I wouldn't have to see the look on the poor fucker's face when he gets shafted by my gift. Turns out that my immediate superior got it. He had no fucking clue about the movie and was less than enthused. I leaned over and told him, "Merry Christmas" I don't think that helped.

So to end shit shorter than it could be, turns out that a shitload of people thought I was serious when I said that my son had cancer. One dude asked my friend and fellow technicican, "Does his son really have cancer?"

"No," DD replied.

" Then why would anyone say something like that? Wishing cancer upon their child?" he responded.

So I'm sure when I go back to work on monday, I'm gonna have a crap-basket full of sympathy cards and shit. That's gonna be a fucking blast. Tune in...