86 Pat Hingle*

This morning I saw "Hats off to Pat Hingle" displayed on the marquee of a local diner. For the next 20 minutes of my drive to work, I wondered who Pat Hingle was, and what he/she had done to merit such public recognition. Had he coached his son's pee wee football team to the pee wee Superbowl equivalent? Had she been the top producing real estate agent at the local Century 21 franchise? Had he (be still my beating heart) finally conquered the 8 lb. hamburger at the afore mentioned diner?

A little wiki-research revealed that Pat Hingle had played Comissioner Gordon in several Batman movies. Oh, that Pat Hingle. And that he had survived a near-fatal fall 54 feet down an elevator shaft. Wow.

It turns out that Pat Hingle died yesterday in Carolina Beach, NC from leukemia. So hats off to Pat Hingle, even though to my knowledge he never did conquer that monster hamburger.

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*The title comes from a horrible joke told by a co-worker when I was waiting tables. The kitchen would regularly communicate which items we were out off by writing "86 (whatever we were out of)" on a marker board in the kitchen. When one of the servers heard about Mr. Rogers' death, he wrote added 'Mr. Rogers' to the list. Even though I was sad about his passing, I couldn't help laughing. I will have a hard time explaining this to Mr. Rogers if I make it to Heaven and meet him there.

Really?

Bumper stick seen on the back of a Kia Rio this morning: "Sorry, Officer, I thought you wanted to race."

First of all, I don't think it's a smart idea to taunt the police. There ain't no talking your way out of a speeding ticket with that baby plastered to your bumper. Don't even think about crying or showing a little skin, either. You take that ticket. Take it like a man.

Secondly, and more importantly...a Kia Rio? I don't drive a flashy car (Honda Civic gas sipper, woot woot!), but I'm pretty sure a Kia Rio isn't going to beat anyone in a race. Maybe not even those scooters I routinely get stuck behind doing 35, maybe 40 mph on the streets of Wilmington.

In conclusion, sir, I think you would be better served by a different bumper sticker. Might I suggest the following:

or

I am the anti-Rockwell

For some reason, I think I am invisible when I'm in the car. I have no problems picking my nose and flicking boogers out of the window, or going for a quick crotch scratch. I don't know why; my windows aren't tinted, and my car sits pretty much as low to the ground as you can get and still clear speed bumps.

Come to think of it, I think I am invisible much of the time. Stain on my shirt? Who's looking close enough to notice? Wacked-out hair? Well, I'm just going to Food Lion, nobody really cares. The flip side of this is that I look at people non-stop. Not that I'm necessarily judging people, but I look at and take note of food stains, signs of poor hygiene, unfortunate clothing choices, etc. Let me reiterate--I am not judging. I'm wondering about the thought process behind strangers' appearances. I can understand that comfort might prompt that lady to wear sweat pants to pick up a gallon of milk, but I'm baffled by the high heels. I want to know the thought process.

I mean, I have an excuse a story for the dirt on my pants. Ernie jumped on me when I was on my way out of the door. I don't know about you, but I don't budget an extra 25 minutes to find a backup outfit in the morning. Once the clothes are ironed, on the body, and have passed the mirror test, I'm committed. I can't go through the whole process of imagining an outfit, combing my dirty clothes hamper closet for the necessary articles, assembling the appropriate undergarments, and ironing twice in one morning, simply because I drooled some toothpaste onto my sweater. Who's going to notice, anyway?

ALSO, LBluca77 is continueing the Pay It Forward Contest, and the last day to enter is TOMORROW. Go check it out and leave a comment to be entered.

Deal or No Deal

I was in Food Lion last night picking up some necessities like Miller Lite and breath freshening dog treats while talking to my sister on the phone and wandering aimlessly through the aisles when I came upon a display of DVDs.

Closer review warranted this photo:

Your eyes are not deceiving you. Both Scooby Doo meets Batman and Stranger than Fiction are being offered for the low low price of just $9.99.

I just bought Superbad and The Darjeeling Limited from Netflix for $5.99 each. But Scooby Doo meets Batman?!? Interesting premise, I'll have to admit.

I am full of questions: Does Velma pull Batman's mask off after they track him back to the Batcave? Did they follow the tire marks of phosphorescent bat guano left by the Batmobile? Would Bruce Wayne still be free to stalk the evil-doers of Gotham if it weren't for those meddling kids? If I can't come up with suitable answers I may have to spend the $10 just to slake my curiosity.

Stranger than Fiction for $9.99, though; that is a pretty sweet deal.

I am a pariah (and not in a good way)

Screw you, Monkey Plague of the Eye. I was trapped in my house with no visitors and no cable, with only the dogs for company. Hemo fled the scene when I started blaming her for my affliction, and only returned for meals. I did, however, watch some interesting movies. If you come down with Monkey Plague of the Eye, I recommend adding the following to your Netflix queue to help you survive while society shuns you:

Striking Distance

Not something I would have ever picked, but it was recommended to me by a friend. Pretty much your typical Bruce Willis action movie. I like SJP, I think she's beautiful, but every time I see her I think about the Family Guy episode where Peter says her face looks like a foot. I'm not sure what that means, but I can kind of see it.



Bad Mutha Fudruckers rate it: 7 (out of 10)

Little Big Man

This is one of my favorite books, and I didn't know there was a movie made of it until yesterday. Is it weird to say that Dustin Hoffman was kind of attractive when he was younger? Because by the end of the movie I had a crush on him. Faye Dunaway is in this movie and is supposed to be this beautiful woman, but all I see is Joan Crawford. Watch the movie, but seriously, read the book. Little Big Man is like Forrest Gump, but with Indians.

Bad Mutha Fudruckers rate it: 6

Envy

I've seen this movie in the "4 for $20" bin at Wal-Mart like 50 times, but I never picked it up. Mistake. This movie is way funny, and Christopher Walken as J-Man the barfly is hilarious. This movie is worth watching, if only for Jack Black's hair-do. I want a shiny white horse named Corky, too.

Side note: I would totally buy VaPOOrize. Heck, I'd even buy a can for Steve's neighbors.

Bad Mutha Fudruckers rate it: 7.5

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I love this movie. It makes me cry every time. I love watching the arc of Clementine and Joel's relationship in reverse. I hate her gross hair, though. And I hate that he sleeps on a pull-out couch. Now I really want to take a train to Montauk and walk along the beach in the snow. Oh, and Elijah Wood plays yet another creepy character that you really just want to punch.

Bad Mutha Fudruckers rate it: 9

American History X

I put this in my Netflix queue at Steve's suggestion, and it arrived just in time for my Quarantine Movie Marathon. I've been an Ed Norton fan ever since Death to Smoochy, and he does not disappoint in this movie. There are some pretty disturbing scenes, including the obligatory prison shower rape scene and a "curb stomping." **shudder** Fairuza Balk, the girl with the coolest name ever (in my mind I call her Vercua Salt, but that is besides the point) sports a punk Hitler haircut.

Bad Mutha Fudruckers rate it: 8.5

Potatoes are cool, until the toppings fall off

I hope everyone had a kick-ass Halloween, because I sure did. I took SO's suggestion and went as a baked potato. My costume really stressed me out because I really didn't start on it until the Monday before Halloween, and I was still putting it together at 7:00pm Halloween night. But I think it came out all right:

...until people started pulling off my bacon bits and eating them.

We started out the night at a friend's house, where he served us "springbok" shots (1 part Creme de Menthe and 1 part Amarula) which looked disgusting but tasted like delicious mint chocolate chip ice cream.
There, Steve got beat up by Boxxy Brown:

There were a lot of awesome costumes downtown.

That's all for now; more to come. Happy Monday!

Pimpslap Religion

I saw this driving home from Virginia last night. I'm not sure what else to say about it, other than it shared storefront space in a strip mall with a hair salon called Hairicanes. Across the street is a business called "Granny's Day Care," but I haven't figured out if it's Granny who is doing the babysitting, or if Granny is the one getting her diaper changed. I kind of want to know, but I kind of don't. This block of Market Street is pretty much most of North Carolina in a nutshell. Go 'CANES!

This weekend I was in Richmond with my aunts, sisters, and mom. Every year my Aunt Lisa's company reserves King's Dominion for a Family Appreciation Day, and we get together to enjoy funnel cakes, pretzels, fried oreos (don't ask), frozen lemonade, and the awesomely short lines for the rides. I feel like I'm in that episode of Full House where they go to DisneyWorld and Michelle is named "Princess for the Day" or some crap, and they get front of the line privileges. Seriously, the day rocked. Except no Uncle Jesse. Boo.
It wasn't until I was halfway into the 5 hour drive home that I started thinking about the names of the coasters I'd been enjoying all day. Just to throw a couple out there for you, we have:

1. The Dominator
2. The Anaconda
3. The Shocker

Ok, the last one was technically the "Shock Wave," but still, I'm sensing a pattern. I think King's Dominion wants to violate me. But as long as they keep the fried oreos coming, I guess I'm ok with it.

A Tragety, indeed

I actually wasn't sure I was going to get this picture; I saw it on my way home on Wednesday, and didn't stop until Friday, when I pulled into the parking lot and snapped a couple of pictures. I had a brief twinge of guilt, like maybe I should call the 87 year old church secretary and let her know about the misspell. My urge to be a good samaritan left me when I realized that I may never get this chance again in the age of spell check. Sure, I live in North Carolina, where the teachers are discouraged from teaching children anything other than what is necessary to pass annual "end-of-grade" tests. You'd think this kind of thing would happen all the time. It doesn't. Or if it does, I'm too busy writing down litter bugs' license plate numbers so I can report them to the DOT to notice.

I had several thoughts on my drive home from the Oak Grove Presbyterian Church. My first thought was that maybe it was all a clever ploy to get more butts in the pews. I mean, they got me half-way there--I was in the parking lot, albeit briefly. I also had a procrastinator's jealousy of the preacher's time-management skills. Wednesday morning and he already had Sunday's sermon written? I tip my hat to you, sir. I ran out of toilet paper last Thursday and I've been wiping my butt with paper towels ever since because I keep putting off running down to the neighborhood Food Lion.

Though I could probably win a 4th grade spelling bee. You, Rev. Tragety? Maybe not.