I'M BATMAN

So, this past weekend everyone went to P's dad's new place to check out the house and have father's day. It's a bit of strange event as we don't see P's dad that often, even though he lives about 40 minutes away. So, as always, Adam tried to be nice the whole time, but the Mole managed to rear his head at one opportune moment.

*Batman commercial on TV, kids and tons of noise in the background*

Co-Ray: Man, I think that Batman movie is going to be good, i can't wait to see it.
Adam: *Oh man, noooooo, don't say it! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!*
Mole: Yeah man, it does look cool, but I hear Heath Ledger dies in the end.
*Total Silence from everyone in the room*
Mole: Seriously, I don't think he's going to be in the next movie.

Y'all Ain't Never Got Two Things That Match!!!!!!!!!

"Either y'all got Kool-aid, no sugar. Peanut butter, no jelly. Ham, no burger. Daaamn."

Smokey's got it right. Sometimes you just can't get it together. However, since The Mole needs to make up for His April Fools post (using lol, Christy, roflmao, blatent contradiction from paragraph to paragraph, plus liking a shitty movie over one of the greatest ever put on celluloid) and here it is.

There are few ways the Mole likes on his burger, and cheddar cheese with bacon will make that shit right. Vicent Vega has the right attitude towards pork unlike Jules Winnfield, and God bless this woman for making the most out of some prime slices of pig. The Mole now links to, THE BACON BRA. This is the only side item for a burger the Mole can endorse besides cheesy fries.

Across The Universe - A Movie Review

So, Christy and I watched a movie last night, and I can't believe how fabulous it was. Now with my constant travel and all, I can't usually be around; but at least we got to spend some quality time together. What we watched was a movie I bought her for Valentines day called Across The Universe. It basically tells the story of a guy named Jude, who travels to America to find his father. While there, he falls in love with his buddy's sister named Lucy.

The best thing about this movie is how historically accurate it's portrail of the Vietnam War era was. There were times when I literally felt like a part of this movie, like my heart was connected on some higher, visceral level. It was intense. The fact that they used Beatles songs throughout to movie to carry the script and expand on each of the environments drew me in to this film even further. The most bestest thing about this movie is how they tied the names of the characters to actual Beatles' songs. Jude, was named after the Beatles's song, "Hey Jude", Lucy from "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, and Prudence from the song "Dear Prudence". It was like every turn this movie took, it got more clever and more clever.

There where things about this movie as well though that were questionable/objectionable. For one, the drug use in this movie may have been a little over done. I mean, my dad told me that everyone smoked a little weed back in the 60s and 70s, but he said drugs didn't really get bad until the 80s. I think they may have needed a better fact checker, or you know opened a history book at some pointing during the writing process, idk. Also, the use of female nudity was really over done, and I think I'll leave it at that. Sex wasn't as free then as it is now, and for the producers and directors to pervert such an innocent time in our history was kinda tasteless and classess, but guys, lol, like boobies, roflmao.

I think all in all I'd recommend this movie if for nothing else than the spectacular story. The charater development, and their music driven lives made me laugh, kept me on the edge of my seat, and made me cry a little. It was really really nice, and I thought was up there and better than No Country For Old Men. I mean who liked that movie? The ending was sucked and didn't make any sense.

Chugga Chugga, Toot Toot

Softball, shit, I'm sick of softball. Every weekend, another tournament, or school, or meeting, or something. Mole needs a weekend off, unless he can have another weekend like the one a couple of weeks ago.

The Mole and two of his umping buddies drove out to middle of no where Texas for a weekend of calling ball. The ball was great and all, but the night before was even better. When we first arrived at our destination, the accommodations were a little less than desirable. We stayed at what had to have been the WORST Howard Johnson of all time. The lights were missing light bulbs, the non smoking room, had ash burns on the chairs, and the mattresses were covered in plastic, just to give you an idea. I had a feeling we were the first people not renting that room by the hour in quite some time. Anyway, after dinner, I got back to the room and was locked out. The Mole hadn't picked up his key and his roommate was no where to be found. Using my keen sense of smell I noticed the oder of cigarette smoke coming from up the hallway which reminded me, when we got out of the elevator, I noticed a piece of notebook paper taped to the wall with the words Cheyenne Club with an arrow pointing to a door written in red Sharpie. Obviously, I figured the boys had noticed this classy joint as well and were probably inside enjoying an after dinner beverage.

Walking into this wall of smoke The Mole wondered what kind of Twilight Zone he had stepped into when the half dozen or so people that didn't know me yelled HEYYYY!!!!!! and waived; startling, but friendly. I made my way over to my two buddies, the one I drove in with, WWB, and one that met us there, Bubba. We stood against a table in the corner and I began to drink in this experience. At one table next to the pool table was a group of 5:

1. Lisa - The bar manager, grey sweat suit, large, smoking reds, black teeth, and race track hair, but friendly
   
2. Lisa's Husband - the 120 to Lisa's 250lb frame. Quiet, Budweiser drinker, wears wranglers.
   
3. Lisa's Big Friend - Large woman, smelled of Rubens and fabreeze, wore stretchy pants
   
4. LBF's Boyfriend - Reminded me of Quasimodo if he lived in West Texas, wore velcro shoes, and played a mean game of 8-ball
   
5. The Kid - The only guy of of the group that looked normal, other than the fact that he was hanging out with this bunch of mouth breathers.
   

The other people in the bar consisted of a guy who reminded of a passed out "Stranger" from The Big Lebowski, and a blond at the other side of the bar, on the hotel computer; that's right folks, the hotel computer was in the bar, a nice touch. Anyway the Mole asked what seemed to be the only appropriate question at the time, "Where the fuck are we?", to which both of them responded, "we don't know". At this time Lisa walks up and asked me if I'd like a drink, so I order a beer and find out it's buy one get one, SCORE! After the first one WWB says I'm getting out of here before my teeth start to rot and fall out, Bubba says, I'm staying until that blond gets up, I want to see if she looks normal. I agree to stay with him and we order another round.

It's about this time that the blond gets up and starts to walk toward us, albeit, with a slight limp. The girl isn't that great looking, probably a 3-4 in normal life, but at the Cheynne Club she's an easy 9. Bubba, goes ape shit over this diamond in the septic tank and as she walks buy he says, "HEY, what's your name?!". She ignores and keeps walking to the bar, and the following exchange happens:

Lisa: Lindsey! Diddn't you hear that guy? He asked what your name was!
Lindsey: Huh?
Lisa: That guy, he just asked what your name was!
Lindsey: Oh, ok.
Lisa: Well Tell him!
Lindsey: I'm Lindsey.
Bubba: I picked that up from your friend.
Lisa: You like her don't you? You think she's hot, huh? You should see her tits. She's my best friend and she has great tits!
Mole: *silence*
Lisa: Lindsey, show them your tits!
Lindsey: No, not tonight.
Bubba: Come on, do it.
Lindsey: OK.

Up comes the shirt, out pops the boobs. Bubba, is now transfixed and asks to move over to bar so that he can talk to her more and we do. He chats her up about how she wound up in the middle of no where, she lights up a camel no filter to tell the story, and the Mole just takes in the ambiance of the situation. In a shitty ass HoJo, in west Texas, in The Cheyenne Club; we've seen a mutant play a mean game of pool, a Cowboy who might be dead never move over at a table by himself, and tits being put on display. How could this story get any better? Just wait, it's a Mole story. After getting the chick's number since he's going to be back in town for two more dates, it's time for the Mole to call it a night and get to sleep. I leave Bubba and his new muse in the bar and get to bed. The next morning as we're eating breakfast and waiting to head out to the ball fields, Bubba is talking to the guys about this chick and how he got her number, blah, blah, blah. Then it happens

Bubba: Mole, I found out why she walked with a limp after you left. She was in a bad car accident.
Mole: Oh, did it kinda mess up her knee or leg or something.
Bubba: No man, she doesn't have legs, either of them!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA, I told her the next time I was i town I was going to make her walk her worse than she already did. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Yep, these are the people I hang out with...regularly. After that statement all I could think about was Major Benson Winifred Payne:

BOOM!

Explosion happened! Blood and guts and spit and ass was everywhere

And Bubba come crawling out the back door, both legs missing...
Lula May’s Baby Boy
And he looked up at me, he said

'Payne, I can't feel my legs...'

and I said 'Bubba, they ain't there'

And I looked down and them little bloody nubs was kicking real fast like this here.
And I said, “Bubba, It’s thirty miles to the nearest town, unless you can flip upside down and walk on your hands, you ain't gonna make it.

Lick My Bag Ebert: Mole Reviews 300

I want chicks in transparent cloth to feed me raw steak while I work out.
I want to piss in my front yard at 2 p.m.
I want to drink a 5th of Jack Daniels and chase is with a case of Schlitz Beer, not the malt liquor, the beer.
I want to go to the skankiest strip club I can find, never tip, and pick a fight with the grizzliest bouncer they have.
I want to club a baby seal, skin a deer, and kick a PETA hippie in the balls.
See that plate of food in front of me? I want to put ketchup over everything.
I want beef jerky added as a forth food group, and have vegetables removed.
I want the day following Super Bowl Sunday to be declared a National Holiday, and I want paid vacation for it.
I want to bang your mom, AND your sister AT the same time.
I want to go killing, not hunting, cause I don’t give an Fuck if I eat what I kill or not, I just want to exert my dominance as MAN over all in my dominion.
I want to wear flannel shirts and blue jeans everywhere, no matter what.
I want a Camero, with a Pantera tape blasting out the back.

And I want all of this because I just saw the movie 300. Quiet simply this is THE man movie for all time. I can’t begin to describe the orgy of blood, killing, and sex this movie offers. If you consider yourself a man in any fashion, and you don’t see this movie, then I will personally come to your house and shit on your windshield. I want, I can, and I will. I spent the rest of the evening after watching this most hallowed of films simply grunting to P for anything I wanted around our home, and why should I use words? I’m a man, and it’s not my responsibility to communicate effectively, it her responsibility to understand.

This movie immediately shoots into my top 5 of all time.

Grand Daddy Still In Hosptial, Mole Blogs About Porn

Sorry about the lack of attention I've given the blog, it's been a tough month for my best man (Grand Daddy), and I've missed a lot of interesting tidbits to blog about. I have an entry coming about my little Valentine's Day excursion with P, but for this post I'm going to be brief.

I saw two things this morning that were related, and here they are. First, Boing Boing ran an entry about Klaus Harmony, who is the "The Mozart of Erotic Film". This guy did all the "bonk-a-bonk-a-wow-wow" music that so many of us rubbed one out to as a wee lad. Ahhhh, the memories. Anyway, here is the link to the boingboing entry that will lead you to his site. There is a jukebox there, as well as a store to get your 70s porn music fix.

Secondly, I get an e-mail from the Deuce with this article that I had also seen come across a news feed in my RSS reader. As most of you will be too lazy to click, the guy mentioned in the article heard what he thought were sounds of a woman getting raped in the apartment above. So he did what any normal man would do in that situation, he grabbed his prized family
heirloom, a cavalry sword, and rushed upstairs. Once at the door, he kicked it in screaming, "where is she"!!!!! Turns out the neighbor was just watching some chick getting drilled in a porn.

Anyway my response back to the Deuce went something like this:

The only way that could have been any more strange was if after the guy kicked the door in, 4 midgets carrying a ring with a psychotic bald bulimic (not Britney Spears) came in behind the sword man to catch you wiggling the dizzy stick.

To which the Deuce responds, "wow".

Uh-merica

For those of you wondering what it's like to grow up and live in a small town in East Texas, just rent the latest Mike Judge (Office Space, Beavis & Butt-Head, King of the Hill) film Idiocracy. Granted, it's not the greatest movie in the world, but it has a few good laughs and presents a pretty sobering picture of the kind of world we're in for if the Federlines are allowed to keep reproducing at their current exponential rate.

"You see gentlemen, a pimp's love is very different then a square's."

That's Right Ice... man... I am dangerous.

It's a sad day. Today is the first time in over 30 years the US Navy doesn't have active F-14s in their fleet because yesterday the Tomcat was retired from active service. Growing up, the Tomcat up as a symbol, to me, of American air power. The plane itself had the ability to intercept most every air target along with the fire power to bring it down. Yet, it also had the maneuverability of the smaller jets to get into close "dog fight" style combat; it was very versatile.

The Tomcat however, was immortalized in 1986 as the fighter jet of choice for gay men. That's right, nothing says American brutality like a pile of guys in towels clicking their teeth at each other, close talking, and telling each other how "dangerous" they are, or can be. Of course I'm talking about Top Gun, a movie that blazed a trail for the "don't ask don't tell" policies of the American military. On top of that, it also glamorized the beard. Thanks to Kelly McGillis, now gay men would no longer have to be seen with those rough looking Fag Hags. Also, this movie put the final nail in the Kenny Loggin's "Hey! I'm still the guy who wrote the Caddyshack theme" coffin, thanks Top Gun.

"Nobody's looking, let me oil you up again, PLEASE!!!!!"


"So that's why they call you Goose?"

Dirty Star Wars Fantasies Come True!!!!

At heart I love geeky Star Wars stuff, and because of that I kinda want to see this movie. IMDB is reporting that Goya's Ghosts will feature a scene in which Natalie Portman will "bare all". Even though, the circumstance of her nudity is that she is accused of atheism and stripped as torture, I'm sure the Mole will be able to get passed that because, really, it's still Natalie Portman naked.

Vince Young, Movie Star!!!!!!!!

This is without a doubt the most boring part of year for sports. We have Men in Tights, Communist Football, Stand Around, and NASCAR to choose from. The Mole, I'm good with NASCAR, but the rest just don't charge me up all that much. George Hincapie is 5th over in the Tour de Tights, but no one really notices since Lance Armstrong isn't racing. Stand Around is just that, and even its stars don't want to play in the All-Star game. I've seen more flopping watching the World Cup than the entire career of Vlade Divac; and he MADE an NBA career around it.

I miss football. However, the season is right around the corner what with training camp coming up and all. Since the new ESPY commercials are touting Vince Young and his performance in the BCS National Championship game, I'm sure it's a matter of time before we're endlessly pounded with, "When will Vince take over the Titian's offence". With Vince Young poised to be a media darling because of all this, I've wondered if he'd take the route of Brian Bosworth (Stone Cold) and try to make it in the movies. Two roles that would have fit him perfect have already come and gone but, Vince, Hollywood is into remakes.........

Taking into consideration his "remarkable" Wonderlic test score Vince could have made a great Radio


Also, with his "unique" throwing motion, he would have been a perfect choice for Uncle Rico

Awesome: I Fuckin' Shot That!

Even though their last album was a pretty hit and miss luke-warm effort, most that know the Mole know that I’m an avid Beastie Boys fan. With that in mind this latest news from ign.com has me so excited I may need to get out my official Tenacious D cum rag. On July 25th, the Beastie Boys are releasing their film Awesome: I...*ExpletiveDeletedForRetailPublic* Shot that.

This film was shot during a sold out concert at Madison Square Garden in New York where 50 lucky fans were handed video cameras to document the event. Afterwards, director Nathaniel Hornblower assembled the footage which was first screened at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival, and later put on a limited release in March. We can now personally own the film that won awards such as 2nd Place Best Dressed -LeFrak City Movie Contest.

I'm so looking forward to this. By the way, if you don't like the Beastie Boys, or, if you are a "fan"; you know, a fan who knows all the words to Brass Monkey yet has no idea what a Hip Hop Masterpiece Paul's Boutique is. Please, give me call so I can serve you up a big ice-cream cone of my nuts - with pubic shaving sprinkles.......

It can't be any worse than Rent

Grape Snow Cones

You know, the old Mole has been swamped at work. Not only that, but the toll of calling an assload of fast pitch (ASA/HS) not to mention the under paid babysitting I do (slow-pitch) has kept me away from my blog. This week though I got a breather so I sat down and watched a movie with P.

We're playing a bit of catch up, so we're just now getting around to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; a very enjoyable movie. It's a bit nonsensical in parts but I really liked it. Afterwards P went to bed and I got to thinking. What, would the past 5 or so years of my life be without her? I can't even imagine it. Don't get me wrong, we've had our struggles just as we've had our candle lit dinners, but really, if I had all the memories of P erased from my mind, I just know I'd feel some longing emptiness.

And it's the little things we share, you know. It's nothing exciting but things like how her favorite thing to eat is an Olive Garden salad. The way we baby talk our dogs, pet names for each other, silly things that every relationship has, and with us are built from a foundation of memories over the past few years together. Some are funny, some are lessons learned, but the thing is, we're stronger from each experience. Without those memories we would never have turned into the people we are: P, the patient and caring one, me more brash and open. We're the balance in our lives.

A few years back I was out with two buddies, and as usual we were on a weekend long alcohol binge. At one point we took a break from being the most abrasive people in the group and we went to a snow cone stand. Buddy 1 (B1) looks at the menu and decides to order Tiger's Blood. After a bit of thought B2 decided that he's getting Lion's Roar. Now it's my turn, and what do I order, Grape. After I pay I turn to see two gapping mouths, and befuddled, half drunk faces.

B1: What did you just get?
Mole: A Grape Snow Cone.
B1: What for?
Mole: I wanted a Grape Snow Cone.
B1: We've spent this whole weekend doing things that normal people don't do. Everyone that we're around this weekend hates us, but us. And you order a Grape Snow Cone?
Mole: *shrugs shoulders*
B1: See, that's a metaphor for your whole fucking life, man. You have this passion and charisma, yet all you want is a grape fucking snow cone.
Mole: I like grape, grape's good.

It still is. I've done a lot of things in my life and I've dated a few different girls, but now I've found what I need to keep me straight, to keep me grounded. There's a lot of flavor in life and it's good to be young and taste it, but Tiger's Blood and Lion's Roar are fleeting. Before long they'll be replaced with something even more wild and crazy like Katie Holmes pacifier, or baby Cruise placenta. In the end Grape is concrete, Grape is true, Grape will be here after we're all gone.

You see I've tasted Tiger's Blood and Lion's Roar, but they're not what I want, they're not what make me happy. Grape is my flavor, and P is my Grape Snow Cone. Those other flavors celebrate month anniversaries (what?). Those flavors have "songs" and "movies". Those flavors aren't big time, and that's why they'll get replaced. My feelings for P aren't replaceable. They're not the type that can be encapsulated in some cheesy ass song or parallel some sappy love story. They're true, and that's why I chose to wake up next to her the rest of my life.

The fire won't fade away, and there will never be tired excuses, we'll never be on opposite ends of the world.

La Vie Boheme

Just a quick hitter, but P is no longer allowed to pick out movies after making me sit through Rent.

You may call me uncouth, red-neck; say I lack culture, whatever, but I loath this movie with every fiber of my being.

If you've never been to see the live stage performance, or picked this up at your local Blockbuster, here is what you're missing.

There are a group of friends; they're all young adults living in the Bohemian Lower East Side of New York. I'm guessing it's somewhere around the mid to late 80's. They're functional bohemians though, if by functional you mean they have yet to succumb to their drug addictions, HIV infections, or starvation. Though it is squalor, it's theirs, and they're living in it.

What is the purpose of this movie? Fuck if I know, but it seems, to be the heroine, you need to do heroin, be starving poor, or gay. Oh, and God forbid if you make a success of yourself and grow up. If you do, you’ll be looked down upon by old friends, who, you know, are asked not to come into a restaurant because they're known for not paying.

Why did I finish this movie? I was hoping that there would be a happy ending for the Mole, and everyone would die of the AIDS they contracted. Only one did though....disappointing.

Are there any redeeming qualities from Rent? One, Rent provided an opening sequence to Trey Parker and Matt Stone's (South Park) Team America: World Police. The hero of that movie, is in an off broadway performance of a show called Lease. We first see the charater of Gary performing a number called "Everybody Has AIDS". (I laughed till I cried)

Moral: I guess there is a good reason to burn books, that reason being if Rent was also adapted into paper back form.

Exploding ham filled Michael Moore Marionette > ((bad actors + bad script) x (horrible songs))

You... You're... a Stu.

Adam: Just a passing thought, but I was wondering, is it ever OK to hit a girl?
Mole: I don't think I know you anymore.
Adam: Seriously, this item is on my mind for some reason, and it's been up for debate from time to time
Mole: Look fucktard, quit being a Stu, and be a Steve.
Adam: Wha?
Mole: Let me put it to you like this. Say for example you're Steve McQueen.
Adam: OK?
Mole: And you've just pistol-whipped a guy from behind that's trying to kill you.
Adam: Yeah?
Mole: And Sally Struthers is standing in front of you screaming....
Adam:............
Mole: Never mind douche bag.

Focus: can their be a more awesome "Steve" move than when he stares at Struthers and crushes her skull? Further, can any of you think of a better(or is it worse) example of a hot piece of Hollywood ass that turned into Jabba the Hut? I need answers.

Zach Braf Actor > Zach Braf Director

To kick off my blog I'm going to rant just a little bit, so bear with me. Tonight became a Blockbuster night since because of a lawsuit I scored a bunch of free rentals. Unfortunately now my mind feels numb after having to endure the train wreck Garden State. This movie has been on my radar for a while but since I rarely have time to watch movies, what with all the drinking and sex, it's hard to get them all in. Wow, Zach Braff needs to stick with Scrubs, and leave the writing and directing to those who aren't mouth breathing retards. I mean, this movie just rambles, and never really gets interesting, in any part. I mean I'm sure it's a great achievement to get a movie made because movie execs won't just throw some shit over the fence (Freddy Got Fingered), but really, lets at least try to be fucking creative. I mean when I watch a movie, I want to connect with someone fictional, I want to feel like I'm there, and I have stake in the outcome of the people involved. With Garden State, I felt like I was at the reception of my sister's wedding waiting for my alcoholic aunt to fall down in the mud, while my other sluttier drunk aunt hooks up with a buddy of mine in the bushes. To be fair, I will kick a shout out to the guy in the Knight's Armor, WHAT WHAT!!!!!! That got a giggle. Anyway, if you're into being beat over the head with a ball peen hammer while having a possum naw on your nutsack, listening to looped track of Celine Dion beat her chest during a long solo, you should give Garden State a rent, you won't be disappointed. Me, I'm going to suck a tail pipe now