Thursday, November 30, 2006

Things That Piss Me Off

THIS makes me sick.

A 45-million dollar luxury aircraft!!??

My mom absolutely LOVES Benny Hinn. Sends him money all the time. Her TV, probably has an image of him and his transvestite-looking wife Suzanne ingrained in the screen when it gets turned-off. I don't even want to go off on a tangent of how televangelism burns my ass, so I won't. But God knows this guy will get his luxury air plane and nary one of his loyal followers will even bat an eyelash as long as it's in the name of "harvesting souls".

It's not my place to judge him, but I'd love to know why commercial and chartered flights aren't good enough for the "harvest".

Oh, and for those who didn't read the whole page I linked to, for your donation of a mere minimum of 1000 dollars, good ol' Benny will send you a model replica of his plane so you can lay hands on it at any time and pray for him to find a modern hair-style. I wonder if they'd send me a complimentary prayer shawl for linking to his site??

"Head Like a Hole" Nine Inch Nails

god money i'll do anything for you.
god money just tell me what you want me to.
god money nail me up against the wall.
god money don't want everything he wants it all.

[Bridge:]
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me

head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die
than give you control.
head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die
than give you control.

[Chorus:]
bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.
bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.

god money's not looking for the cure.
god money's not concerned with the sick amongst the pure.
god money let's go dancing on the backs of the bruised.
god money's not one to choose

[Bridge][Chorus][Chorus][Bridge][Chorus]
you know who you are.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Smells Like Brandon Routh

Yeah, so Cole bit Porthos last night in an effort to commandeer a Kong stuffed full of treats. Either that or Porthos asked for a snout piercing and Cole had no access to local anesthesia. The result was the same however: a big, bleeding, tooth-sized hole just above Porthos' nose, and quite a bit of swelling. My poor puppy.

Doggie politics are quite the mystery to me in spite of owning dogs my whole life. It's a precarious balance trying to instill acceptable behaviour. Cole must be taught he is an elder, but also an "equal" one-of-two, and Porthos must somehow get it that Cole is top-dog until such time as they're no longer vying for supremacy. Sometimes I wish they could talk. But then I soon thereafter surmise that that wouldn't be a good thing at all. I'd be getting "sassed" all the time donchaknow.

In other news, the final module of my $#%&@# course is upon me, and it's all about success stories, of which I have none that I can recall. How sad is that huh? Ahh well, I've just got to use plan B. Or rather: plan "BS". Want me to be a certified Creative Writer huh? Well, I'm a gonna get REAL creative on this assignment. Fictional even. Truly, I just want it to be over. I did really poorly on module 6 (by my standards) 77% and I blame it on fatigue and lack of motivation. I did not want to take this course, therefore I do not care as much as I probably should.

It has however resulted in a lot of brainstorming with a friend, whom I'm actually considering for a business partner in a freelance venture. We're both talented, there's no reason why we couldn't be making a shit-load of money from writing and voice-work. The fact that we both write and voice well, bodes well. The fact that neither of us knows a damned thing about starting a business does not. Ah but at least I'm aspiring to something. More than I could say a few months ago.


Ted and Tammy are doing a 2-week "Lean Out" diet thing. No carbs; no processed sugars for 14 days. I opted out of the plan, for any number of reasons: I can't seem to plan my lunches very well. I don't have the will-power to get on any sort of exercise regime right now (which it requires or else what's the point?). And Porthos P. Puppy makes me crave comfort foods when the only alternative is pulling out my hair when he's a bad dog, which is most of the time. Incidentally, Tammy has taken to calling him "Pee-thos" which I'd likely find incredibly funny if it didn't make me want to give him up for adoption. (which we'd never do in a million years)

To further the topic of the 2-week "Lean Out"... The subsequent void left in Ted's life by the nectar of the Gods he must abstain from, (Dr Pepper) has left him quite irritable. Be it the lack of caffeine, be it the absence of sugar - my Teddy was in a BAAAAAAD mood last night. I suspect, that's the reason why I was chastised for buying the wrong version of Superman Returns on DVD yesterday. I bought the movie-only version which I honestly, HONESTLY thought would include at least SOME special features, namely the 11 deleted scenes included on the 2-disc special edition. Alas, I should have spent the extra 10-dollars. Stupid, greedy studios.


Loved "Superman Returns" though. It was truly an escapist film. Lots of action, larger than life characters and what I thought was a pretty compelling plot, if not entirely original. The movie's caught a lot of flack for making Superman into a messiah figure (which he would be if he really did exist if you think about it) and the implausibility of Lex Luthor's evil plan (c'mon he's a super villain; if he's not preposterous what's the point??). But really folks... it's a comic book movie. If you can't just sit back, suspend disbelief and enjoy the romance and heroism and things going "boom", then what are you there for???

Anyhow... loved it. Totally recommend it. And additionally, let it go on record that I bet Brandon Routh smells really good. He just has that look about him. Unconventionally handsome... (but beautiful) what I'd call "adorkable". He looks like he smells very clean, like fresh laundry, and an unimposing cologne. Love him. hee



Song of the day is for my Ted. One of his current favourites. "All I Can Do" by Chantal Kreviazuk.



When you're on your own
When you're at a fork in the road
You don't know which way to go
There's too many signs and arrows.


You haven't laughed in a while
When you can't even fake a smile
When you feel ashamed
The uniform don't make you brave


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do


When you forget your name
and the pleasure can't disguise your pain
and you don't feel the same
I won't forget the love you made


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do


What a lovely day to shape your dreams
And you don't even have to sleep
You can make it what you want to be
You can fly away
You can change your name
You can have a happy face
It can be so real ohhhhhh


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do
Is all that I can do

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Run Tommy Run (far, far away)

Watched Mission Impossible III last night, and I can say with all honesty that it's just as good as the first 2, and that's not saying much. The word "Gratuitous" comes to mind. It wasn't a movie so much as a 2+ hour commercial to make aging Tommy couch-bouncer look good. And in all fairness he does look good. Not just for his age; Tom Cruise still looks good. But there is such a cheese factor to every action movie he does.

For one, I am sick-to-death, tired of seeing him run. And it would seem that Tom specifically asks for at least one scene in every movie to showcase just how fast his little dachshund-man-legs can carry him.

The plot was dull, dull, dull. The dialogue was OK considering said dullness. I found I was a little confused by the opening scene and how exactly it worked itself into the pique of drama later on, but that may have been because I didn't feel compelled to give the movie my full attention. The effects, although very shiny-explosive were just a little too choreographed, even for a movie that's completely about suspending disbelief. Not to mention I still don't think I know whether Lawrence Fishburne's character was a villain or just merely corrupt, nor do I really care.

I did however love the scenery - particularly the windmill fields (as great a location for a cinematic helicopter chase/battle as any I suppose... although it made me feel absolutely ill to see 2 windmills destroyed - hopefully they were CGI.) and the streets of Tokyo. If nothing else, Mi III "looked" great.

Oh oh oh.... and I can't forget Keri Russell (from Felicity). She did a remarkable job. Loved her part albeit brief.

Overall, it was one of those movies that pleased me most when the credits rolled. Deleted scenes? A whole whack of 'em. Ted was like: "Wanna watch the deleted scenes?" John was like: "I don't really care what they left out". I could think of a few additional scenes of my own to delete. (ie: "run dachshund run", and a post-sex torso pan of Tom Cruise from bottom to top in bed - hee - bed pan) So needless to say, Ted will be watching those on his own.

The thing that worries me most about this movie... ***Nerd Alert*** is that it's directed by JJ Abrams, who is working on the 11th Star Trek film. I hope to God that the overall story and flow of Mission Impossible III is not any indication of how the new Trek movie's going to play out, or I'm afraid there won't be any more Star Trek in my lifetime. Not that that would be the end of the world, but it would make me very sad.

Song of the day: a quirky lil' diddy by Scissor Sisters. Once again, from the album "Ta Dah". One of the best CD's of the year in John's world.

"I Can't Decide"

It's not easy having yourself a good time
Greasing up those bets and betters
Watching out they don't four-letter
Fuck and kiss you both at the same time
Smells-like something I've forgotten
Curled up died and now it's rotten

I'm not a gangster tonight
Don't want to be a bad guy
I'm just a loner baby
And now you're gotten in my way

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

It's a bitch convincing people to like you
If I stop now call me a quitter
If lies were cats you'd be a litter
Pleasing everyone isn't like you
Dancing jigs until I'm crippled
Slug ten drinks I won't get pickled

I've got to hand it to you
You've played by all the same rules
It takes the truth to fool me
And now you've made me angry

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Oh I could throw you in the lake
Or feed you poisoned birthday cake
I wont deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
Oh I could bury you alive
But you might crawl out with a knife
And kill me when I'm sleeping

That's why I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Monkeys are Funny

Cold deep-fried turkey on grilled-red-pepper stoned-wheat crackers is a new favourite snack. I cannot tell you how delicious it is. Good thing too, 'cause it's what I'm eating for lunch.



In completely unrelated news; early this morning I was amused to discover that I have not one, but two friends who don't like monkeys. This gives me pause. But only because I thought that monkeys were just universally admired as they resemble little furry people; only animal-like. (granted, they're little furry people who screech, copulate in public and have been known to toss feces - but to me that still sounds a little bit fun. I jest - but not entirely. Remind me to tell you about the "PTV" episode of Family Guy in which Peter and Cleveland do a segment called "Would You Crap Off That?". I happen to find poop jokes insanely funny, more so than a well-adjusted person should really.)
In retrospect, perhaps it was naive of me to think that everyone likes monkeys, because simply put, not everyone enjoys everything. Not-to-mention the fact that phobias and general disdain for things/creatures (nouns in general) can spring out of nowhere for seemingly no reason. But one friend in particular HATES monkeys, like beyond capitol-letter emphasis! She cannot handle even "looking" at a primate of any kind. They make her cringe and shudder in disgust. Even the cute little spider monkeys in the Telus commercials. Incidentally, I posted that picture knowing full-well that the aforementioned friend does not read my blog, and the second friend: Keltie (whom I'm mentioning for the second day in a row) has specified that she can tolerate spider monkeys more so than other species, but to be clear, that doesn't mean she likes them. ***post-script*** It would seem the picture doesn't show unless you click on it. A web-genius I am not.

Now I'm not campaigning for monkeys by any means. Yes, admittedly I've always found them cute and entertaining (except for the movie "Outbreak" in which they were quite the terrifying plot device) but I've never been a monkey "fan" persay. However, the question of their appeal or repugnance as the case may be, is a good one.

Why do monkeys have such a widely adored status? Maybe it's because they vaguely remind us of ourselves, and how we'd behave if we weren't self-aware and civilized. That could be used as an argument in favour of or against the little critters though. From an evolutionary stand-point, we may very well have behaved like monkeys until the advent of laser hair removal. Who knows?
I think I like animals (not just monkeys) better than I like most people, so the appeal of monkeys for me is just the cute little fingers-n'-toes, their agility, curiousity and mischief-loving nature. Not that I've ever known a monkey personally - they could be little assholes, so far be it from me to condemn anyone for not liking them.

Song of the day is a thematic thing... a song I've never really understood, but I've liked it since childhood. What were you talking about Peter Gabriel? And is your desire to electrocute monkeys a direct result of a feces-flinging incident? If so, I "sooo" want to know. I would laff and laff and laff.


Shock the monkey to life
Shock the monkey to life

Cover me when I run
Cover me through the fire
Something knocked me out' the trees
Now I'm on my knees
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know when you're going to shock the monkey

Fox the fox
Rat the rat
You can ape the ape
I know about that
There is one thing you must be sure of
I can't take any more
Darling, don't you monkey with the monkey
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know you're going to shock the monkey

Wheels keep turning
Something's burning
Don't like it but I guess I'm learning

Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey

Cover me, when I sleep
Cover me, when I breathe
You throw your pearls before the swine
Make the monkey blind
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know you're going to shock the monkey

Too much at stake
Ground beneath me shake
And the news is breaking

Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey

Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey to life

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I've Never Blown a Ho

Last post made on November 6th.... yikes... good thing I didn't sign up for NoBloHosNoMo, that daily blogging contest that my friend Keltie is doing.
I think it's sponsored by the new Snoop Dog album. I'd quite obviously fail miserably at blogging every day, but I am enjoying the fact that every day I visit her blog, there's something new to read. She hasn't missed a day yet.
Phew - I dunno what kind of prizes one could win, but it certainly seems like a big commitment to me. And as a sidebar, it's actually called the NaBloPoMo - I think... assuming that's short for National Blog Posting Month or something of the like.

So what's goin' on in my life? Well, I'm 3 weeks away from finishing my #$%!ing course and can't wait to be rid of it. Ted is in the midst of work and waiting to find out when his full-blown training begins for his Brand Trainer course. He's got a binder as thick as my neck full of curriculum to go through, so I'm starting to think I've had it easy. Perhaps it's easy for me to say that in hindsight now that I can see the top of the mountain.

Porthos is doing much better in the house-training department. We've just come to the realization he stopped trying to make it outside because there was no incentive. Now that he's being coerced with Milk bones (or "bickies" as we refer to them) he's much more inclined to try to please us. Every dog has his currency, that's for sure.

It's heart-warming to see the relationship that's forming between both of our dogs, since Cole has never really had a buddy in his life. Bailey ("RatDog", our now deceased LlasaPoo) was at best a mother-figure, and at worst a crusty bitch who didn't particularly enjoy his company or affection, and had no tolerance whatsoever for any form of tom-foolery that ordinary dogs engage in to burn off playful puppy energy. So it's nice to see Cole enjoying all the play that Porthos can dish out. Well, almost all of it. Their love for one another just seems to grow deeper every day though, and I just eat that up with glee.

In recent ventures, Ted bought a Turkey Deep Frying Kit on the weekend, and guess what we made Sunday night? Imagine cooking a 10lb bird in 35 minutes. And that was actually over-cooking it judging by the results, but I wanted to make sure it was given just a little bit of extra time since I was dubious at the thought of us actually doing it right in our first attempt. I suppose the verdict is still out on whether we succeeded or not since the balcony is still currently a no dog-zone and we've yet to clean up the turkey oil spill we made. The bird tasted good though. I honestly think we could eat turkey all the time. That's our second bird in a month. And we'll undoubtedly be making another one at Christmas.

Anyhoo, I should get back to the tedium that is my day's work.

Song of the day is by Seal. If you haven't seen this video, I recommend you Google it and watch. It's beautiful. As is the song itself. "Love's Divine"

Then the rainstorm came, over me
And I felt my spirit break
I had lost all of my, belief you see
And realized my mistake
But time through a prayer, to me
And all around me became still

I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Through the rainstorm came sanctuary
And I felt my spirit fly
I had found all of my reality
I realize what it takes

'Cause I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend (don't bend), don't break (don't break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Well I tried to say there's nothing wrong
But inside I felt me lying all along
But the message here was plain to see
Believe me

'Cause I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend (don't bend), don't break (don't break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Love can help me know my name.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Something Happy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjCpT8NbmME

Additionally, I forgot to post a link to one of the cutest things I've seen/heard in a long time. What a happy baby.

"Enjoy" by Janet Jackson from the album "20 Y.O." (one of few, if-not the only really great song on the entire CD)

Wake up 7 am
'Bout time we do it again
Sushine today
I better make plans
'Cause it rained yesterday
But that was ok
Can't complain
I love it either way

Living everyday like it's my last
I refuse to be stuck in the past
People actin like machines
'Cause they're scared to live their dreams
No not me

I just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my heart's content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy
So just enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy

If you wanna find the paradise
Do it now never too late to try
Lose your inhibitions
Let your inspiration set you free

And just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my hearts content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy

So let's enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy
And the people say

Enjoy la la la la la [Repeat]

I just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my hearts content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy
So just enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy
Enjoy la la la la la [Repeat]

Maybe Next Time it Will Be Stolen by Aliens

The time is 7am, and John wakes from sleep to the sound of rustling from another room. (No, no, all our livestock is still accounted for. It's "paper" rustling that I speak of.)

When you're daddy to an eight-month old puppy, rustling is not a noise you can sleep through. So I stumble out of bed, stricken into consciousness via raw hide bone pressed firmly into the curvature of my foot. The rustling sound can still be heard and draws me to the bathroom where I'm picturing the contents of a garbage can strewn about everywhere, perhaps even a magazine laid waste in a display of canine boredom in front of the toilet.... but oh no...

The dog ate my homework.

I swear to all that is good and just in the universe that I can finally say with all honesty that one of the most preposterous excuses ever known to man or offered to the most disbelieving of teachers has finally come to pass for me. The dog... ...Ate my homework.
And lo and behold, there's a bone in my brief case to answer the question of "what possessed him"? So... Basset Hound drops bone in bag, goes looking for bone, comes out with homework drags it to the bathroom for some good reading (???) material, and one plus one is two.

It's laughable, only because I still had all of the work on my computer so there's really no harm done, but what are the chances?? Hell, I'll gladly feed him the entire course page by page when I've finished it and banished the tedium from my life.

So Porthos got away with a mild scolding for making a mess, and moved-on to other things... like tossing soil out of the potted tree in our living room yet again. He's so lucky he's cute, 'cause lesser dog owners would have sold him to a third world country for his meat by now. And, yeah, they eat stuff like that. Why only last night I learned that they eat cow lips (fur n' all) in Madagascar. Thank you very much Amazing Race.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Beware My Whining

Blood... it's in you to give.

I'm getting damned tired of hearing this. And not because I'm a cold-hearted bastard. I believe in giving blood and would whole-heartedly encourage people to do so. I only wish that I was allowed to do so myself. I promise this will be a short Soap Box Perch for me and here's hoping that I might even move on to something entertaining before I'm finished posting for the day. But "Did You Know...." that the Canadian Red Cross will not accept blood donations from homosexual men? It matters not, that you're tested regularly for HIV/AIDS (which I'm not, but it wouldn't matter anyhow). It matters not, that you've been in a monogamous sexual relationship for 11 years. It matters not, because of one ugly little question on their behemoth questionnaire that asks if you're a man who has had sex with another man since 1978 (or 76, can't remember the year exactly). If you answer "yes"... Thank you for playing; we have no lovely parting gifts for you. And THEN to add insult to injury, they continue to call you to keep you abreast of each and every blood donor clinic day in your vicinity. Nice huh?

Prejudice is an ugly thing. It really is. Whether under a banner of religion, or fear, or policy, or any other ridiculous form of hate. It's still discriminatory. I have good, clean, blood. And a healthy, (if soft and pudgy) body. But my blood is unwelcome. Perhaps Canadian Blood Services should alter their campaign sell-line to say: "Blood; it's in you to give. ...Unless of course you're a filthy, promiscuous homosexual." They'd probably have church groups lined-up around the block, rolling up their collective sleeves and ready to open up a vein at will if they did. It'd be far more honest than the slap in the face of actually going to a clinic and being turned away. -sigh-

Ah well... as far as I know there are no such discriminating policies associated with being an organ donor, which I am. I'm tempted to start auctioning off parts before then, because God knows I don't feel like a prime specimen, but here's hoping someone gets some good use out of my spleen or kidneys or something else I haven't abused or neglected too much by the time I kick it. If only I could sell abdominal fat by the pound. Or snot for that matter. (sorry, it's at the top of my mind just rising from the misery of a cold) I've got more of that than anyone would ever need or want. There has to be some mass-quantity use for it... like... I dunno... envelope glue (bet that'll make you think twice before you lick your next one).

Anyhow... give blood if you're heterosexual, or a lesbian (no discrimination there thankfully) and sign your donor card if your anything but. No entertainment today it would seem, unless mucous qualifies.

"I Could've Been You" by Melissa Etheridge

Take, take a look at the sky
Sometimes your heaven seems so far away
Take, take a look under here
Where deprivation turns into decay
I've stood under this rain
Felt it seep into my brain
I've shut my eyes and crawled around this mud
I'm scared of growin' old
I shiver when I'm cold
Don't you think I bleed the same blood

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Wait, wait before you turn off
Maybe there's a chance we can relate
Wait everybody turns on
Why deny a fact that's so innate
It's not so easy anymore
The way you used to keep score
Not so black and white the color of your sin
Take a walk inside my shoes
A path I didn't choose
Spend the night inside of my skin

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Change is turning into fear
Fear is melting into hate
With hate you justify your crime
A crime compassion can erase
Erase erase

Touch, touch what I feel
And know I believe everything I say
So go, go if you must
Remember one thing as you walk away

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Candy Candy Candy

I spoke too soon.

Yesterday I was telling one of my co-workers that I was pleasantly surprised about how "good" Ted had been about Halloween candy this year. And by good I mean not brandishing a shovel at the Wal Mart greeter as he charges the doors with shopping cart full of sweets. This year I honestly thought Ted was going to be satisfied with the few meager bags of mini-chocolate bars he bought at Loblaws a week ago.

I'm so silly.

Last night (being Halloween n' all) he came home with what can only be described as a "Shit Load" of candy - and - cute beyond all else - one of those orange plastic jack-o-lanterns that young kids use to trick-or-treat with before they learn the damage they can do with a few pillow-cases and a wagon. I kinda giggled at the jack-o-lantern as I asked him where he got it, and he told me his co-workers bought it for him. (knowing how much he loves Halloween)

I'm not truly complaining about all this, 'cause it makes him so happy. I just wish I could crack open a can of "iron will" and not touch any of it. My list of casualties so far is a mere mini Twix bar (love 'em) and a single "Atomic Fireball" (which wasn't nearly as hot as I remembered it.)

Since I was sick still, our original plan of Chinese Food at Steve and Jamie's place with weed and scary movies was sadly kiboshed. But we did settle-in and watch a cute animated movie called "Monster House", which was about as "Halloween" as one can hope to get without a costume.

Incidentally, for my own historic documents: Module 4 final mark: 92%. Purposefully trying not to talk about the course in general because all I do is bitch and moan about it and even I'm tired of listening to me. Still hate it more than anything though.

I missed posting on Halloween, but this was the song I had in mind: Michael Jackson's attempt to recapture the spooky, past-glory of Thriller on his last album "Invincible". This song is called "Threatened". It's not Thriller by any stretch of the "yo", but I like it.

[ROD SERLING INTRO]
Tonight's story is somewhat unique and calls for a different kind of introduction
A monster had arrived in the village
The major ingredient of any recipe for fear is the unknown
And this person or thing is soon to be met
He knows every thought, he can feel every emotion
Oh yes, I did forget something didn't I
I forgot to introduce you to the monster.

You're fearing me, 'cause you know I'm a beast
Watching you when you sleep, when you're in bed I'm underneath
You're trapped in halls, and my face is the walls
I'm the floor when you fall, and when you scream it's 'cause of me

I'm the living dead, the dark thoughts in your head
I know just what you said
That's why you've got to be threatened by me

[CHORUS]
You should be watching me,
you should feel
threatened
Why you sleep, why you creep,
you should be
threatened
Every time your lady speaks
she speaks to me,
threatened
Half of me
you'll never see,
so you should feel
threatened by me

You think you're by yourself, but it's my touch you felt
I'm not a ghost from Hell, but I've got a spell on you
In one blink I'll disappear, and then I'll come back to haunt you
I'm telling you, when you lie under a tomb
I'm the one watching you
That's why you got to be threatened by me

[CHORUS][ROD SERLING VERSE]
The unknown monster is about to embark
From a far corner, out of the dark
A nightmare, that's the case
Never Neverland, that's the place
This particular monster can read minds
Be in two places at the same time
This is judgement night, execution, slaughter
The devil, ghosts, this monster is torture
You can be sure of one thing, that's fate
A human presence that you feel is strange
A monster
that you can see disappear
A monster,
the worst thing to fear.

[CHORUS x 3][ROD SERLING OUTRO]
What you have just witnessed could be the end of a particularly terrifying nightmare.
It isn't.
It's the beginning.