Just Like the City: For Your Consideration in the Category of Best Lead Actor in a Comedy Series

On this week’s episode of Just Like the City, I attended physical therapy for the first time. At the moment, I am scheduled to go twice a week for four weeks, which is a lot if you are counting at home. And I was a little nervous going in the first time, not gonna lie. I mean, I have already been doing some stretches at home and they really, really hurt. What would these hippie dungeon-master therapists do to me?

To my surprise, they were exceedingly nice and helpful, something I had not been used to when dealing with medical professionals during this little ordeal. On my first day, I had this guy who wanted to talk to me about video games for the entire time which is a conversation I can totally hang with for an extended period of time. He put my hand in this machine that is filled with sand and heats up and I just move my hand around, sort of like it’s water. Why they don’t just use water I don’t know, but moving your hand around in hot sand is actually pretty cool. Ten minutes in that thing and I felt like I could move anything with my hand. Until I actually try to move something. And it hurts. So my training regimen consists of stretches, hot sand, putty, moving a hammer back and forth, and wall pushups. They are attempting to get my range of motion back to normal before starting in on strength training, which my arm needs because it has withered away and the hand has like no muscles in it. He also told me that my arm is going to get stiff when it’s cold and that I’ll be able to tell when rain is within thirty miles. So cut to me, seventy years old, sitting on my porch in a rocking chair, sipping on iced tea, and being all “rain’s coming!” It’s going to happen. I’m going to be that guy. 

Day two, I saw the other therapist. She put me back in the sand machine which I think I broke because I got sand everywhere. It was like I was at the beach. And she actually massaged my hand which was heavenly. She kept bringing up how her partner wanted to learn more about video editing, and of course I’m all, “That’s what I do! It’s easy.” So now I think she wants to bring her in so I can talk to her while doing my hand stretches. Whatev. As long as my hand is in sand and/or the therapist is massaging it I’ll talk about anything you want. The good news: she told me that my wrist is healing phenomenally and that I might not have to go for the full four weeks. Which would be nice, cause it’s expensive. 

The wrist really doesn’t hurt all that much. When I wake up its a little stiff (as things tend to be in the morning). But after moving it around a bit I hardly notice it. I don’t even really need the arm brace anymore but I choose to wear it out because A) it’s trendy (like a Power Glove!) and, B) it gets me A LOT of attention (like the individual Morgan and I met at the fireworks stand in Kyle. On, Firecraker…). 

And thus Arm Storm ‘08 is coming along nicely. As is Flood Storm ‘08. I’m back in my apartment right now. I have new carpet and you’d never know that anything happened here or that the place was completely tored up last week. I was pretty sure I would need a FEMA trailer for a few months, but now I’m planning another trip to IKEA! Yay! Once again, thank you to Billy and Gretchen and Heather and Justin for helping me out with not being homeless. I feel I need to pay them back in some way, but let’s be honest. Just a few minutes in my presence is reward enough, right? Right? 

Just kidding. Also, I want to say that everyone I called DID call back eventually and in my previous post I was in no way criticizing them for not answering immediately. The point of my story was to point out the absurdity of calling everyone at six in the morning while my sister slept in the car and drugged out hookers approached me in the alleyway. So thanks to everyone for calling and sorry I woke yall up. 

I’d also like to point out that I LOVE three day weekends. Yesterday was the 4th, which we celebrated by going down to Auditorium Shores to watch the fireworks. Austin is such a pretty city and it looks that much cooler when the sky is on fire. When the aliens attack I’m going down to Town Lake cause it’s going to look hella cool down there (yeah, I used hella). Afterwords, we headed to Morgan and Ashley’s and attempted to burn down their house. Good times. 

Busy week ahead! The Wedding of the Century is on Saturday and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be epic. And I would like to do some Photoshop for this post but I can think of no movie poster that goes along with this week’s theme. And I’m lazy.

Flood Storm ‘08: Um, Help?

Ever since starting the old blog, fate has made sure that I would never run out of fun things to talk about. On Saturday night/Sunday morning, my apartment was flooded.

It happened like this. All day Saturday, I cleaned the apartment top to bottom. Then I went and renewed my lease and signed up for a free carpet cleaning. This is all important later for irony’s sake. Later in the evening, I returned from movie night at Jake and Travis’s (I’m not at liberty to discuss what was watched). Jill, who was visiting for the weekend, left for like her eighth party in three days. So it was Saturday night, midnight, and I decided to do what all cool kids do at that time. I fired up The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess on the Gamecube. Since my wrist is healing, I am finally able to play video games again and playing a good old Zelda game was something I had been looking forward to for a while.

Now, a few times I had gone over to the fridge for a Diet Coke and heard water running through the pipes under the sink. The pipes in my apartment are constantly making noise, so I totally ignored them and figured they would shut off. Besides, I had finally got to the overworld in Zelda and I had to get back! So I play for a little longer, two o’ clock rolls around, and I figure it’s time for me to call it a night. I had a big Sunday planned: breakfast with Jill and then laying out at Billy and Gretchen’s.

But that watery noise is still there! So I takes me a look under the sink. Water is flowing freely. Not a lot, but there was significant drippage along the back wall and onto my cleaning supplies. I’m not a plumber or anything, but I do know that the knobs turn off the water and this usually fixes most problems until they can become…um…more fixed? So I turn the knob.

ARMAGEDDON. Water explodes out of the pipe, onto my face, all over my broke-ass arm, etc. Like, a lot of water. Turn five faucets on and put them together. That’s how much water. And it’s not stopping. I try the knob again, which has ceased to turn in any direction.

So I’m all, “Crap.” I rush to unplug the electronic stuff because the water was approaching the living room fast. I call my apartment office an dial the number for the 24-hour emergency extension. No answer. “That’s weird,” I say to myself. “I mean, I thought it was 24 hours. Why would they lie?” I try again. Still no answer.

So I go from “Crap” to “OMFG!” in like five seconds. What am I supposed to do? And water is everywhere in the kitchen, already an inch or so. Phone books! I kept those around! So I tear one open and dial the first plumber. They were like, “You’re screwed kid.” It took my five different places, but someone finally said they would come out. I mean, I’m trying to explain to all these people that MY APARTMENT IS IN DANGER OF SINKING and no one seems to give a fuck. So I’m like, “Great. Can you get here as soon as possible?” The on call guy is in Leander, which might as well be Massachusetts. But I can’t do anything. So I tell them okay. And I spend the next HOUR waiting on him and pacing around. I can’t do anything. Every time I try to play with the pipe, I just make it worse.

I’m in several inches of water now. I’ve moved all the furniture, WITH ONE HAND, as far from the flow as I could. I put a towel under the door to my bedroom cause that was going to fucking do something. And the guy shows up and is all “Holy shit!” and am all “I tried to tell you!” And he basically just bends the pipe to stop the water. Then he tells me that some connection had come off somewhere and that it was badly installed to begin with. And speaking of my apartment complex, I try their number again. Nothing. I leave a voice mail calmly explaining the situation and to please call me back at their convenience.

So now we’re waiting on the extraction team. Below my apartment is the complex office. It sounds like it’s raining in there. Water is seeping out from under the doors. I try their number again, No answer. I leave them another message calmly informing them that they are fucked and they might want to call back.

It’s like 4:30 now. Jill returns. We take pictures for Facebook posterity. We call Jared cause he really needed to be a part of the experience. Then the extraction team shows up. The guy’s name is Austin. I tell him my name is John and that it’s funny that he lives in Austin and his name is Austin. Okay not really. But I do tell him I’m John. Cause I don’t want to deal with that shit right now.

So I figure they’ll vacuum and get rid of stuff and I’ll be in my own bed 5:30 at the latest. Six rolls around. The extraction team is done. My furniture is everywhere. Some is on the deck. Some is in the hallway outside. My bed is covered with all my belongings. Fans are installed everywhere. Carpet is pulled up. I can’t stay here tonight. I call everyone that I know/like. No one answers. I understand. It’s 6. [ADDENDUM: Morgan did answer but was out of town].  Jill and I are prepared to sleep in the car (I do want to add that at some point, a drugged out prostitute came wandering near me in the ally way as we got in the car but she ran away when she got close. I didn’t even bat an eye I was so out of it).

But Heather finally calls back! So I grab a few things, grab the iMac, and we head to Heather’s. I collapse on the couch but I don’t sleep. Jill dreams of milkshakes for some reason.

Ten in the morning, No sleep. Not my house. I call the apartment complex. Someone finally answers. I’m all, “I called you last night about the flood.” And they’re all, “So you’re the culprit.” I longed to tell them to fuck themselves, but I grabbed Jill and headed back over. They were in shock. I told them the whole story. They were impressed that I handled it so well. I was flattered (all you have to do is complement me and I’m no longer upset). I shove the plumber bill in their face, which they promise they’ll pay.

That’s mostly the story as it stands. Carpet is mostly gone and the apartment looks like a war zone. I’m told it won’t be ready until Tuesday, when they better fucking clean it and move my furniture as well. I don’t care how messed up their shit is. I went back to Heather’s for a shower. Jill high-tailed it to Gatesville. And then I went to Billy and Gretchen’s and laid out, cause screw it if any sort of crisis is going to get in the way of that! I spent the rest of the afternoon watching I Love the New Millennium and not blinking. So that’s where I’m staying for a few days.

That covers most of the basics of this newest incident. I’m optioning the rights to my life to anyone who wants it. It would make a great sitcom. Interesting side note: the extraction team had to clean out all of my closets and put everything on the bed. I heard them laughing at some point. A few of the objects on my bed (from various locations in the apartment): neon green underwear from American Apparel, Justin Timberlake Rolling Stone circa 2003, two Bibles, and a Zelda sword. Oh, and all my toys from the living room. And they had the audacity to laugh at me! When you see objects of your life sort of all thrown together like that it makes you want to step back and take stock. But sleep first.

Arm Storm ‘08: Brace Yourself!

…and pretend the movie is about getting your cast removed and not about a volleyball stuck on an island

Everyone take a moment to look at your left arm. It’s the one on your left. Just look at it and think about it for a few seconds. Go ahead. I’ll wait. 

Haven’t you always taken that arm for granted. I’m not talking to left-handed people, they already know this. I’m talking to us normal right-handed folks out there. You can admit it, you’ve never really given your left hand its due. In some countries it is an offense to even shake hands with your left. These are countries without toilet paper. Figure it out yourself. So you go about your daily life not really ignoring your left hand but certainly not thinking about how much life would suck without it. It’s okay. I was one of these people. 

Let me tell you: that left hand is important. And you don’t know how important until you loose complete use of it for like two plus months. Say someone does something impressive and you want to clap. Guess what? You can’t! Let’s say you want to type a well researched, well thought out rant on your blog. Well, it’s going to take you twice as long with only one hand. 

Since breaking my left wrist (it was my wrist, I was told this several times today), I have been in all sorts of contraptions. A cast that ended right past my elbow so I had no movement at all and weighed like ten pounds. A splint that bent my hand back and almost caused me to black out. A ratty post-op splint that made my arm look like a stuffed animal with all the stuffing coming out. A faux block of swiss cheese. And, more recently, a waterproof cast that many of you were kind enough to sign. I didn’t keep this, by the way; it smelled and I’ve run out of metaphors to describe it. Just trust me when I say that it was bad. 

And now the journey is almost at an end. My cast was removed today and my left arm was exposed to the light of day for the first time since that fateful day on the roof (take a moment of silence next May 3). It’s not as white as I thought it would be, but it is quite skinny. Also, it itches. Bad. Every time I itch it, several layers of skin fall off. My small surgery scar is visible, the hair around it still not fully grown. And it hurts. For a week I have to keep it mostly in a brace which makes me look supercool. Remember those braces that people used to wear in the 90s when computers gave you carpal tunnel but no one wears anymore cause apparently computers are safe now? That’s what I’m wearing. I also got to see the x-ray. It looks like I have two nails stuck in my arm, and they are absolutely permanent! 

But now for the best part: I actually have to go to physical therapy. They told me at first I should be okay but when I tried to move my wrist today and screamed out “OH MY HOLY LORD!” they reconsidered. It feels better now, but I still can’t move my wrist too much and I certainly can’t move it fast. So twice a week for four weeks I get to have someone re-teach me how to move my hand again. All I’m saying is that my physical therapist better be hot. 

So I’m clearly not out of the woods yet, but I’m not in a cast which is the most important thing. All I want to say is, take some time today to appreciate your left hand. God gave it to you for a reason. And don’t tan on roofs. Barton Springs works just fine. So I’m going to stop talking about this until it is absolutely over, sometime in the coming months. 

Before I go, I want to thank everyone who helped me out with this, and I’m being completely sincere here. I really do have a hard time asking people for help, so people just did it for me without me having to ask. To everyone who held a door open for me, thank you. Thank you Morgan and Ashley for taking me to the emergency room and putting up with “the help” with me. If my insurance company tries to hit yall up for money, tell them to shove it (they won’t try to hit you up, but just in case they do…). And, of course, Julio for picking up the ladder as I lay prone on a concrete bed of emotion. Thank you Billy and Gretchen for taking me to the store and helping with my laundry and everything else. I shall now be able to dance unrestricted at your wedding. Thank you to the peeps at work who gave me shit everyday but let me take off when I needed to. Thank you Jake and Travis for the book on Japan. I’m trying to stay brave, I really am. Thank you to the Gatesville United Methodist Church for placing me on the prayer concerns list that led to several panicked phone calls by people who wanted to know if I was dying. I trust a gasp went through the congregation as my name was read. And thank you to everyone who called or something. Just about everyone I know thats important mentioned it to me at some point. And when they were done laughing, they asked if I was okay. So thank you for that. If I left you out specifically, I’m sorry and thank you. It’s getting a bit hard to type (but I’m trying to be brave!). 

And thank you to Mom and Dad and Papa and Nene (whom I know don’t read this cause they would have had a long talk with me by now) for all that yall do. And I guess Jared and Jill too : )

 

Well that was a real moment, wasn’t it? Anyway, back to normal. So what’s the deal with hipster douches? 

 

Odds and Ends 4: This Is Not A News Site, Just In Case You Ever Wondered

-So two stories I previously wrote about turned out to be not as true as I thought they were. That tribe in the Amazon? FAKERS! Turns out they were discovered years ago, and some hippie hipster douche photographer kinda made up the story to highlight the dangers of logging. Oh yeah? Your mom’s a danger to logging. Plus, the powder on Mars turned out to be not cocaine but probably just ice. Ice, you say?

-I realized that, unlike most bloggers, I rarely post too much information on myself, falls from roofs excluded. This is done for several specific reasons, not the least of which is that it would probably bore you to tears. But in the interest of having noting else to really post, here’s a linear break down of my weekend: home from work, nap, eat, shower, go downtown, drink, dance, drink, [event retracted], drink, dance, go home, text, sleep, shower, confess, lawn service, decline cologne offer, eat Whataburger, lay out, don’t get in water, receive rain check, play marimba, meet friend for drink, brief nap, shower, go country dancin’, drink, dance, drink, dance, get sick, eat kolaches, sleep, shower, Hot Cheetoes and Bean Dip (?), back to Barton Springs, lay out, swim, submerge cast (terrible idea in retrospect), lay out, burn, play marimba, flip a coin, eat McDonald’s, watch several terrible music videos and a few good ones, eat cookies, part ways, watch Degrassi, read Charles Dickens, sleep. There. I trust you shant ask again. Overall though: fun weekend. Can’t you tell?

-I love the office chart site, from the makers of I Can Has Cheezeburger. This is why I love the site:

- Brief Arm Storm ‘08 update: WHEN WILL THIS FUCKING THING GET OFF? Oh, Thursday. Hopefully. I went swimming with it on this weekend (as noted earlier). The smell is absolutely phenomenal. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. Phenomenal. Imagine being followed around all day by a dump truck filled with fish urine. No, I can’t imagine that either. But this smell is unimaginable. Thus, a comparison that is unimaginable.

Powder on Mars!

Space is fascinating to me. How fascinating? They found cocaine on Mars!

I thought the whole 80s revival thing was only centered around Earth, with the fashion, the music, and of course the drug of choice all making a comeback. But the decade to end all decades is apparently a big hit on the Red Planet as well. Here are some other pictures sent back by the Mars rover…

I just made a picture of E.T. shopping at American Apparel. My work on this planet is finally fulfilled.

And while I’m on the subject of the whole 80s revival, which I certainly have no problems with, can I just ask what kids in 20 years are going to be copying? Will they copy the 2000’s copy of the 1980s? Will it just be the revival of a revival? And with all the movie remakes and sequels, most of them based on 80s stuff, what are they going to remake/sequel in the future? Our current un-originality is going to bite us in the ass in a few years and cause the downfall of society. But that’s just my opinion.

Music! Weezer and Coldplay

Because I am now a blogger, I am required to a) have an opinion on music and, b) have very strict indy rock tastes. Which is why I’m reviewing two little known acts. Recently two of my favorite bands put out new CDs. And by favorite bands, I mean one that actually is one of my favorites and one that I will admit is a favorite only to myself as I scrape the bottom of a gallon of ice cream and sob uncontrollably (seriously, does anyone else have this reaction to ‘Fix You’ or is it just me?). I’m talking here about Weezer and Coldplay. Now, when they both released their singles a few weeks ago, I was quite taken with “Pork and Beans” but not so much “Violet Hills.” Did I have the same reactions to the respective CDs? Well, then, just read on!

Weezer - The Red Album: First, can I just ask whats up with Rivers Cuomo’s mustache? And why are so many other singers doing it too? And by “so many others,” I’m talking mainly to Brandon Flowers. Are yall intentionally trying to creep everyone out? I know you are pushing 40, Rivers, but come on! And Brandon, you simply have no excuse.

Anyway.

Most Weezer fans view the albums like this: they love The Blue Album, think Pinkerton was handed down from God a la The Ten Commandments, bash The Green Album around their hipster douche friends but listen to it secretly with the curtains drawn, and proclaim to have heard nothing after that except “the one with The Muppets.” When you start your career on so many high notes, you can never really catch up and so people have written off their later stuff. I personally love just about everything they have put out. They never take themselves to seriously (and never did, despite what some think…Pinkerton is pretty stupid/fun), are catchy as hell, and are never boring.

The Red Album is a bit boring. Actually, it’s mostly boring. It starts off on a high note, with three songs that sound just as fun and catchy as anything they have ever put out. “The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived” is an epic that reminded me of those long songs on American Idiot by Green Day, except more fun. But from track 4 on, the songs just loose their energy. They’re not necessarily bad, they just come off as uninteresting. It should be noted as well that most of the back half of the CD was written by members of Weezer not named “Rivers.” If this has something to do with it, I don’t know. I’m going to reserve final judgment on this one for a little while. When it works, it works. When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Now is that quotable or what?

Coldplay - Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends: You know how I know I’m gay? I actually really like this new CD. I’ve gone back and forth with Coldplay. I loved, LOVED Rush of Blood to the Head and listened to it probably more than I should have. Which explains why my sophomore year of college involved a lot of poetry writing and nature walks. And I liked X&Y, but it became clear to me that they were just doing the same things over and over again. Now, I know it’s fashionable to not like Coldplay, and I am so not one of those people. I just got kinda sick of them.

When I heard the new single, “Violet Hills,” I could see that they were trying to do something else, but it sounded just like Coldplay not trying to sound like Coldplay. It grew on me after a while, but I’m kinda getting tired of it again. The other single, “Viva la Vida,” oh boy. That is one catchy little ditty. I know this one is destined for overplay (to this day I fucking resent the fact that stars are yellow and think about it every time I see one, even though they are SO CLEARLY WHITE!) and it’s used in an iTunes commercial and what not, but it is by far one of the best things they have done. It’s just so damn catchy. And from this song, you can glean some of the Latin influences that are all over the album.

And how is the rest of the CD? It took me a few listens to really warm up to it. Yes, it sounds different, but not that much. It reminds me a lot of Parachutes, with more dissonant chords and the like. But the best parts are where Coldplay sound like Coldplay, with the same four chords and the wailing and soaring choruses and all that. By about the third listen, I really started to like it. As in, I’m still listening right now. This can only mean that in the ensuing weeks I’ll play it to death and then renounce the band until their next album Muero el Muerte or Why the Fuck Did Gwyneth Leave Me? (my Spanish might be rusty…)

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the ALIENS?!? WTF?!? OMFG!!

So I finally got to see Indy 4 (I’m not typing out the full title) several days ago after a week of avoiding phone calls and deleting e-mails cause it seemed like everyone and their dog were trying to ruin this one for me. Like I said, I wanted to go in knowing as little as possible so I could enjoy it with tempered expectations. I think everyone that wants to see it has probably seen it, so I’m gonna’ talk about everything.

I’ll say right off the bat that I liked it. There’s really not a whole lot of ways you can screw this up too much since both Harrison Ford and Steven Spielberg are back and Indy is one of the few movie characters who can just stand on screen and make the movie instantly compelling. He can read crap from a book (as he does in all the movies) and I’m fascinated. And even if Harrison Ford is just a little bit older now, he still kicks ass. He’s been in some crap lately but he was totally Indiana Jones again in every scene of the movie, even if he growls like Solid Snake now when he talks. And I liked all the other actors too. Yes, even Shia LaBeouf, whom people seem to really hate for no particular reason. But I think he does really well in his standard role of “Sidekick to Really Big Things” (like Indiana Jones, Optimus Prime, or Ren Stevens). I also like the setting of the movie. I thought taking it out of WWII and removing the Nazis was going to be rough, but the Cold War and the Commies can be just as fun. I just wish there were more Russians in it.

And the action sequences, like any Spielberg movie, are really fun and exciting. I particularly liked the motorcycle chase around the college because it reminded me of chase scenes from the other movies (like, um, the motorcycle chase in Last Crusade) in that it had humor on top of all the collisions and explosions. And the flesh-eating ants reminded me of the bugs in Temple of Doom: they were gross and they were fun.

Even after insisting that I wasn’t going to let anything about the movie bother me, I did have some issues with the movie. First, a few things on a technical level. The CG was really rough and stood out in several places, particularly the car chase through the jungle. I mean, this is ILM, Spielberg, and Lucas. You’d figure the CG would be the highest quality. And while there are some pretty awesome effects (such as the alien ship taking off at the end and destroying the temple), too often everything looked…fake. I don’t mind CG. I like it. But when there’s bad green screen matting ON TOP OF Shia swinging through the trees like Tarzan, you have problems. Also, the cinematography bothered me, and this is pure film geek stuff here. The movie simply did not look like the old ones. It looked like War of the Worlds. The Indy movies strive to emulate a style of movie making from the 30s and 40s and this one looks too slick. I have never been a huge fan of Spielberg’s current cinematographer, Janusz Kaminski. Everything always looks overexposed and grainy to me. And the shine, oh my God, the shine! Everything has some unnecessary halo of light around it. This works okay in certain movies like Minority Report where a slickness and a gleam add to the story and setting. But here it just got in the way. If you’ve seen a recent Spielberg movie, you probably know what I’m talking about.

But my biggest problem with the movie was the overall story. Now, I like aliens. I like them a lot. I wish more movies had them. But they really kinda don’t sorta belong in an Indy movie. When the others centered around religion and then all of a sudden aliens pop up, it just doesn’t feel right. But the aliens could have been handled right if the story was in any way compelling, and it really wasn’t. Remember how in Raiders you couldn’t wait for them to open the Ark of the Covenant cause you just HAD to see what was inside? At the end of this one, I really could have cared less what happened to anyone or if the quest even got completed. It was just uninteresting. And on top of that, the story was completely all over the place. I constantly forgot who was chasing who and why even though they tried to recap the plot every chance they could. All I could think was, “19 years and this was the best ’story’ you could come up with? Aren’t the people who wrote the other ones, like, not dead?”

I did still like it. There’s no way this one is going to compete with the other ones since I’ve been watching those for twenty years. I think another viewing will help a lot. And who knows what we’ll think a few more years down the line. People are just now starting to appreciate Temple of Doom. Maybe I just need to remove myself from it and then think about it.

I was going to also write on Sex and the City, but I’m tired.

Things I Want But Don’t Need: Zelda Edition

So every time I sit down to write a post, I usually begin with a well-intentioned idea. For the past week or so, it’s been, “I’m gonna write my review of Indiana Jones today!” Then something happens. I fire up Firefox, check my mail, and then wander aimlessly for the next few hours through the desert of the Internet, getting completely distracted by anything and everything. It’s like I have the attention span of a peanut (which I assume has a very low attention span).

Okay, so I was going to write that review today, and I was even thinking about knocking out a write up on Sex and the City as well, which I have more than a few things to say on. But then I came across a story about a wrestler who wears Legend of Zelda boots. Not some nerdy kid who wrestles in the backyard, but a wrestler on WWE who is actually shown on TV and might actually have a fan base and who plays through The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past once a year like I do! Here’s some pictures of him. But more importantly, look at his boots. His BOOTS, I told you:

That’s the Triforce symbol on them there boots, from the games. This led me to several conclusions. First, I really want those boots. There’s nothing particularly special about them, but they are blue. Second, I had to Wikipedia and Google research this wrestler, Cody Rhodes, cause I found him, um, intriguing to say the least. Thirdly, my fascination with the Zelda games, and the character Link in particular, is getting unhealthy for a person my age. Forthly, what other Zelda merchandise is out there that I don’t know about? Here are some of my favorite items from my exhaustive research. And by favorite, I mean I might actually seriously maybe kinda want some of this stuff:

Bedsheets. For sweet dreams.

An unnecessarily creepy throw pillow.

An unnecessarily creepy Halloween mask.

A thermos which I would totally take to work and if you don’t belive me then you don’t know me.

A freaking gold NES. That’s nice.

A cutting board. Sure, I don’t cut stuff. Sure, it’s completely useless. But…but…I want!

And a freaking Zelda sword! Oh, wait, I might have already accidently obtained this one…

Moral of the story: I had high hopes for this blog when I started out. I even discussed politics once upon a time! Now I’m reduced to posting pictures of wresters in blue underwear and Zelda boots. And as long as I’m sinking that low…the Zelda cartoon!:

Diet Coke and I: “Do I see a future there? But I don’t care if he beats me! It’s love!”

I’ve concluded that I can give up just about any food for the sake of being healthy. Cereal and peanut butter, both not bad for you unless you consumed them like I did, are effectively banned from my life (except on rare, RARE occasions). And I LOVE cereal and peanut butter. I can’t fully give up caffeine but I have stopped drinking coffee all together (except, like above, in rare occasions). And I also, once upon a time, gave up my favorite drink in the world, Dr. Pepper. Now I can’t even finish an entire can. Is that shit just caramelized sugar? How does anyone drink it?

But there are two things that my mind refuses to give up: alcohol and Diet Coke. Alcohol is not really a problem. All things considered, I don’t drink it that much (stop laughing, I’m serious. When was the last time I needed to drink water?). But, whoo boy, that Diet Coke. I have a serious problem. I’m not going to say how much I drink a day, cause I don’t even know, but lets just say that my intake is somewhere between “hey, maybe you should slow down” and “why is your urine black?”

And I don’t even know how this happened. I used to hate Diet Coke more than anything in the world. I used to make fun of people who drank it, like my dad (he eventually switched to Diet Dr. Pepper, which I just can’t muster much enthusiasm for). When I gave up Dr. Pepper I guess I just needed to get my caffeine fix somehow. And slowly but surely my tolerance to Diet Coke soared. And here I am today. A broken (literally) man. I am a raging Coke Head. And I see no way out of the abyss.

People try to tell me how bad it is for you. How it destroys your brain and your teeth and your urinary tract. And I don’t really pay too much attention ’cause, the way I’ve always figured, everything is bad for you in some way. Like carrots: they’re good for your eyes but they’re linked to cancer. Or alcohol, which studies show can prevent certain types of cancer but also destroys the liver. Moral of the story: everything is probably okay in moderation. But I have an utter contempt for moderation.

So today I read an article finally linking drinking soda with bone problems. Apparently, the body steals calcium from the bones in order to break up the phosphoric acid found in all colas. To quote the article, “…the occasional cola drinker probably needn’t worry…The real risk is for those who drink cola every day.” Fuck. AND WHO HAS BEEN HAVING TROUBLE WITH THEIR BONES LATELY?!? I NEVER USED TO BREAK BONES! The sad thing is, after I read that, I went out a got a large Diet Coke! It’s just what I do. I can’t stop it. Basically, this is a cry for help. Is there an appropriate substitute? They tried to put minerals in it, like it’s a health drink or something, and it tasted terrible. I’ve tried mineral water, just to get that fizziness, but then there’s the issue of caffeine, which is undoubtedly the main source of my Diet Coke addiction. Plus, crazy as it sounds, I actually like the way it tastes. What should I do? I see no way I can cut this out of my daily life, or even curb it for that matter.

Odds and Ends 3

-What a week.

-So Lost wrapped up its fourth season last night, and it got me thinking (like things tend to do). When the show first began, and well into its third season, the plot was completely all over the place. The pacing was slow, and there was no forward momentum to the story for episodes at a time. Since then, the creators have set an end date for the series and a count of the number of episodes remaining. On top of that, this season (which was already going to be short to begin with) was cut even shorter by the writer’s strike. So what we ended up with were 13 episodes that had very little fat and the narrative momentum of a bullet train. This should be a good thing, right? It’s what we wanted, right? Now I’m not so sure. The story moved maybe too fast, to the point where I kinda forgot what was going on at some points. I’m used to watching Lost through a glaze, really only paying attention when the music peps up. I’ve had to retrain my brain to watch everything, cause almost everything was important. And the character development, something I always griped about cause I want to know what that fucking polar bear is, was kind of missed this season. I want to know more about all the new people on the island, like Miles and Faraday. I hope the writers are able to strike a good balance next season. And speaking of next season, the way it was set up last night, it could be really intriguing or excruciatingly boring. I’m talking beginning-of-Season-Three, sitting-in-cages, Kate-flashback-episode boring. The episode last night was good, though.

-There are tribes out there that have not come into contact with the modern world. I find this beyond fascinating. I mean, can you imagine? The world is supposedly so advanced, and there are tribes out there like this? Shooting arrows at planes? Absolutely fascinating. I kinda want to join them. I’m sure the rent is low. Unless they make you put your hands in gloves covered with flesh-eating ants as an initiation. That would suck.

-How is getting all gussied up and standing in line for Sex and the City somehow acceptable but dressing up to a Star Wars movie is not?

Oh, wait. Never mind.

-In closing, I would like to congratulate my sister Jill, who is graduating from Gatesville High School this evening in a ceremony that might attract national attention, if our family barbecue doesn’t beat them to the punch (it could get wild). So now both my siblings will have moved on and my parents will be empty nesters. Time marches on, I suppose.