Friday Morning Hodgepodge

I'm so tired, you guys. This week has drained me of all my energy like a vampire who runs on people's energy instead of blood because he thinks blood is all icky and stuff (he also invented Red Bull; true story!) (not true at all; C-dog lies). I think part of the problem is that, during my week home, I got used to sleeping in a house just packed to the rafters with icy, cool air conditioning. There was so much of it... cold blasts pumping in currents through the rooms like a river made of sherbet and Snow Queen tears. It was awesome (and hangover friendly!), but now it's over. I'm back in my apartment, which, like so many other apartments in New York, is sans central air. We have windows, sure, but come the motherfuck on. Windows are like a crying tranny trying to sell you a handjob for crank money next to the super-cute, punk rock drummer chick that is air conditioning. There's no comparison. It's the difference between eating a picnic lunch in the park with your friends and getting shot in the face at close range while withdrawing money from an ATM late at night. Goddammit, I hate windows so fucking much!!! Fuck!!! I'm so tired, you guys. So tired...

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Last night, a year after the fact and at least two or three months past the point where everyone stopped caring, I finally got around to watching Juno. If ever there's a movie that comes dragging behind it a fuckload of pop-cultural baggage, it's this one... the whole stripper thing, the slangy dialogue that apparently everyone hates, Diablo Cody's dress at the Oscars, it making a bazillion dollars by word-of mouth which means that hipsters have to hate it, and so on and so on. You know what I'm talking about. Juno whipped up a hurricane-sized backlash not seen since The Blair Witch Project and it was with that in mind that I sat down to check it out, unsure if I'd be able to separate the hoopla from the film itself (I'm not very smart, so it's a challenge). So, was it a Best Picture-worthy masterpiece of comedic brilliance. Oh, probably not. Did I enjoy the fuck out of it? Yep. Big time. Totally connected with the characters, the story, and the techniques used to display same. I'll admit that some of the writing smacked of trying too hard, but only a little bit, and mostly just in the first twenty minutes or so. Once the plot got rolling, all that kinda calmed down and then it was golden throughout. Ellen Page earned all the buzz she got, for sure, but the rest of the cast was just aces too. Special hollas to J.K. Simmons as Juno's dad; he's the kind of father I'd like to be one day. When I'm ready to have kids. Which I'm soooo not right now. Much like Juno herself. Ah, how the universe all connects directly to me!!! Fascinating, no? (no).

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The Texas Rangers got their brawl on!!! Two things: 1) how fucking huge is Richie Sexson (the guy charging the mound)? If I were the announcer, I wouldn't be so cavalier with the calling him gutless. He might show up in your living room with a Louisville Slugger as a retort. And 2) if batters got that pissed over every chin-high pitch thrown at them, the game of baseball would be nothing but fight after fight after fight. I mean that would be awesome, but still. Not exactly baseball. Routine pitches such as that shouldn't evoke that kind of bonkers emotions. Richie Sexson is a weenie.

NOTE: That video might get taken down soon, so watch it while you can. If you want to. I mean, who am I to tell you what to do? Besides your father, of course.