Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Enough With the Word Porn Reposts

Guys, we need to talk. And by guys, I mean the men amongst us. Ladies, as always you are free to read. Because I’m gonna kinda blame you for this as well. So you may want to stop InstaGramming for .2 seconds and maybe lend your opinion.

I have noticed a trend on the Book of Face recently that is pissing me off. Actually, there have been a lot of trends on FB that are pissing me off; car selfies chief among them. A close number two is people who apparently have the free time to post 10 or more things on their page. I’m unemployed and spend an inordinate amount of time on my PC most days of the week and even loser me don’t gots that kind of time.

Enough with the Word Porn shares, men. You broads take it easy, too. But there’s been a noticeable increase in dudes-who ain’t young-reposting this Word Porn shit. Enough. Stop it. You look childish and silly.

Yes, I know me saying “Enough with any kind of porn” is startling, as it should be. I don’t know how Word Porn started, or if/how they are making any money off all this, but fellas, knock it off.

It kills me to actually show some examples, since I am pretty sure your news feed is clogged with this horse shit numerous times a day. But for those lucky few who have no idea what I’m talking about, below are some examples of Word Porn’s that routinely make the rounds:

The funny gay, not any other gay.

I don’t know where these Word Porns (now to be referred to as WPs) come from, or who started them or why. Some appear to be directly credited as coming from ‘Word Porn.’ Others are quoted to authors, poets, writers, musicians and other types who I am sure are generally embarrassed their work has ended up like this. They are put into a standard, cookie cutter format and-viola-they clog up your feed. I hope WP isn’t a real company, making real money. K Theory has been churning out funny, cutting edge material for YEARS and ain’t made a damn dime. Not that I’m jealous. Or bitter. Or poor. Or hungry. Or angry…

Here’s how I envision the WP office if-your religious being of choice forbid-such a physical office exists. Every employee is a girl of varying ages. Almost all have dyed their hair, some have flashes of purple or pink or blue. If they only have one hair color upon hiring, they are issued bottles of Manic Panic as part of the dress code. Speaking of dress code, it’s mostly black. Flats are generally frowned upon. Nail polish is encouraged, as is jewelry. Wearing of bracelets is only defined as “enough to constantly make a ruckus every time you move.” Eyeshadow is wide, sometimes purple, and generally garish. (On a personal side note, ‘garish’ is one of my favorite words, and I need to use it more often.) Pretty much the same dress code for the one or two dudes that work there.

Cubicles-yes, even the faierieland of WP is a cube farm-are decorated with angels. All kinds of angels. Not the Disney kind of angels, but angels like this. 
This IS my happy face.

Pictures of cats and people with lip piercings in every cube. In frames can be found quotes like the following:

I guess this girl is like the top model for this kind of thing.

Music varies from old school (Siouxsie & the Banshees, Cure) to the newer emo bands that I am thankfully almost totally unaware of. The carpet is occasionally littered with glitter, angel dust and unicorn hair. Bathroom lighting is exclusively candelabra. Everybody is actually happy to work there, but never smiles about it. Might chip their layers of makeup.

Could you imagine if you were a delivery guy and had to deliver to this place?

Delivery guy enters. “Hey, I have a delivery for you.” Receptionist lifts her head up, already snarling like he’s bothering her from watching Cocteau Twins videos. She sighs heavily as she flicks her pen between her many, many ringed fingers. “Is it the My Chemical Romance box sets we ordered?” Guy says, “I don’t think so, doesn’t feel like that.” “Hmm, maybe it’s the hair dye. We just hired two girls.” Delivery guy is tired every interaction goes like this. “Look,” he says, “can you just sign for the package, Mist? I got a lot of deliveries today.” She sighs again as she takes his clipboard, “UMM…it’s MYSTT! How many times do I have to tell you that?” She hastily signs his sheet with a black gel pen. Delivery guy, let’s just call him Stuart, says, “How…how can you even tell I said your name wrong?” Mystt says, “It’s pretty easy there, Stewart.” Stuart says, “Hey you said my name wron..” He stops because his mind is blown.

Back to the point, many of these ‘original’ WPs seem to express the point of view of a 7th grade girl.
I write at a 7th grade level, and even I’m embarrassed to see drivel like this. Let alone there’s dudes, like grown men-reposting these like it’s a Kermit meme. Well, guess what, it is my business when you’re making yourself look like a huge douche nozzle.

If you’re a girl, you can kind of get away with it. To a certain age. I would say the cutoff is about 25 or so. By 25 you should realize angels are about as real as mermaids and stop wishing you were either. By 25 your looks start to go, you actually have to work out to stay in shape, hangovers are more vicious, work sucks, people let you down and kvetching about it on FB makes you look like a bitch. Yea, I said it; and it applies if you’re a girl or a guy.

But if you’re a guy and reposting this shit, just gimme your man card. Hand it right over. I’m not friends with Caitlyn Jenner on FB, but I’m pretty sure she ain’t posting this shit either. Don’t get all angry at me, I’m your friend here. All the rest of your “friends” are too embarrassed to tell you you’re posting such douchy crap. Stop it.

I’m pretty sure there is a WP generator out there that I can easily make such lameass puke. And you know what, dunderheads would probably repost it. I believe Taylor Swift is secretly writing these WPs anyway. These sound pretty much her speed. I'm guessing she's back on the market? Does she need to get a Tweet from me?

There you have it, guys; solid advice from Bro Kev. Drop the WPs. If you MUST repost stuff, the following would be acceptable:

Advice from The Rock

Pictures of half naked girls

Joe Biden memes

Mannequin challenges-though I think that fad expires on Friday

Kevolution Theory reposts

Thursday, December 1, 2016

I Have Found My Spirit Animal

So there you are. It’s late at night; doesn’t matter if it’s the week or weekend. Maybe your car is almost on E. Maybe you’ve killed your buzz safely enough that it’s time to reward yourself with some Funyuns, “anything that kind of looks like meat and is warm” and a Muscle Milk to balance it all out. You get out of your car…umm, I meant to say whip, and hello, hello….

You see a vision, a hot chick. Just lounging about the gas pumps in her “night out” clothes. And I thought this sort of thing only used to happen on Skinemax. The video goes on for six minutes. And while I am sure some of you boneheads are thinking, “Too long, not gonna watch” I am sure you watched videos with hot girls that were a lot shorter than 6 minutes, ifyaknowwhatImean.

So you might want to invest the six minutes to get all the jokes, or at least trust me knowing my jokes are gonna be almost as funny anyway. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. But seeing as how I am fascinated watching hot, drunk chicks, I watched the whole thing, and here’s what I have to say.

Video is narrated by a guy. You would think these kids would know how to hold their damn phones at this point to get a solid picture. Landscape, people! The location of this video is unknown, guy-let’s just call him Tyler-stars narrating. We’ll call the girl Ashley. (Look for their hilarious webisodes on in a week.)

Ty exits his vehicle (sorry, was just watching Cops) and sees Ashley semi-seductively stumbling about the gas pumps. It’s unclear how Ashley (or “Smashley” as her girlfriends no doubt call her while throwing Skinny Girl martinis down her throat) suddenly materializes. Ty puts on his ‘smoove’ voice, because, let’s face it, this is pretty much shooting fish in a barrel.  Why has this never happened to me? I have spent an inordinate amount of time at convenience stores in the middle of the night due to poor life decisions. In many cases, those poor life decisions happened 5 minutes before I got to the convenience store. But, noooo, there’s no drunken Ashley waiting to stumble into my car, like an angel falling from heaven.

The smoove leaves his voice as soon as Ash makes a move to get into his “whip.” So I guess Ty is driving a solid car. The shot darkens as we hear the horn go off. Tyler is not amused, and probably readjusts his sideways cap to show as much. Ashley is hanging off the closed driver’s side door, with a “come hither” look.

She then tries to backwardly slide into the open car window like a drunken Danica Patrick. Ashley fails, falls onto the ground. Tyler proves he is not a total jerkoff and tells another customer the gas pumps aren’t working, but our girl Smash sure is. How any dude can’t at least be amused this is happening to him is beyond me. Tyler asks if Ashley needs some help, does she need paramedics “or something?” Just WTF could that “something” be? A delicious Little Debbie snack cake from the store? A GrubHub? What Tyler, what?

Ashley is only wearing a red tank top (that she is clearly rocking, BTW), Daisy Dukes and socks-no shoes. You ever wonder where those random shoes suddenly appear from out on the road? They’re Ashley’s. Tyler notes it’s cold out and is actually trying to be helpful, asking her her name. She just looks at him and doesn’t answer. Man, there really isn’t much to NOT like about a girl like this! Her equilibrium is off as she dips up and down, then holds onto the car as she moves to the passenger side.

As she moves, I see what appears to be an Impala plate on the side of the car. Tyler’s “whip” is a Chevy? A Chevy Impala? Yea, it’s black, shiny and got rims, but I think the guys down at Pep Boys wouldn’t even classify this as a “whip.” Ashley snakes her way into the car via the open passenger side window. Huh? Didn’t Tyler say it was cold? And he has both windows open just to fill up? Ashley starts mumbling about his whip, probably something like, “Eshvenn Iz know a Shebby Impala ishnt a whhhip.” She tries to stand up in the front seat. Tyler remains a gentlemen, tell Ash he’s about to call his sisters over here to “fuck you up.”

Tyler starts dropping the F bombs, then says something in Spanish. Hmm, perhaps “Tyler” was a poor choice to name him. Too late, he’s stuck with it. Plus I am far too lazy to re-edit this anymore than I have to. Tyler storms over to the passenger side, opens the door and tells her to get the f out. I’m thinking, “DUDE, there are guys that would KILL to stop for a fill up, and end up with a drunken cutie in their car.” That’s a major pull, Ty! She stumbles out, Ty continues with the f bombs, and tells her “it’s already bad enough you already got so many finger prints on my car!” Ugh, one of these guys.

Tyler goes about filling up, even though he earlier said the pumps weren’t working. Maybe he was just being a dickhead so no one took the last of the Premium for his whip. Tyler gives her some life lessons. He continues to call her dumb, as I’m starting to wonder just where in the hell this camera is. It doesn’t appear to be him holding his phone, does he wear a GoPro or something?

Turns out Ashley stole his cigarettes, so Tyler goes to get them. The cigarettes are a brand I’ve never heard of called Sandia. I guess that’s the brand all whip owners smoke. Sounds like cheap Indian tobacco to me. Ty finally turns the camera to him as he now laments the situation he finds himself in. His name is clearly not Tyler at this point, sorry hombre. I am positive you are not one of those bad hombres I’ve been hearing about. He continues to go off on Ashley, as we see her now crawling on the ground like the girl from The Ring. There’s a story as to how Ash got in this shape and ended up at this gas station, but we will never, never know.

Like a drunken zombie (my Halloween costume every year by the way), Lady A stumbles back to the passenger side, reaches into the whip and takes his radio! Huh? It’s almost 2017 and they’re still making removable radios? I know I am not in the whip culture, but this is news to me. She hands it back to him, Ty gets into the whip. Finally, some of the people who actually work at the gas station arrive on scene. They were probably watching the whole time, rolling their eyes because they didn’t want to deal with this shit, either.

It turns out Ashley broke Tyler’s radio. Now Tyler can’t listen to his God-awful auto-tuned “music.” He joins with a gas station employee as they follow Ashley, who is now walking like a teetering penguin. As they approach her, the video goes Sopranos and suddenly ends.

There are some things we will never know or understand, my friends. This is one of them.

Friday, November 25, 2016

Hallmark Xmas Movie Review; Christmas Incorporated

In case you missed Part One, you can read it here. And even if you did read Part One, so much has gone on since Monday, you probably forgot about it already. Whatevs. So the one condition I had was the girl had to be cute.

Fellas, this is Shenae. 

It's like striking out with six girls all at once.

Ah, what a sweet Southern Belle name Shenae is. Well, it turns out she’s from Canada. And that’s pretty hot, too. If she looks familiar, it’s because she was on the 90210 “reboot” a few years ago. (Don’t act like you didn’t watch. And that you still would to Jennie Garth.) In fact, more cursory research-my favorite kind of half ass research here-reveals just about all the actresses on the new 90210 have done some of these Xmas movies. The movie I will toothpick my eyes open for is called Christmas Incorporated. Description is:
Sometimes, life just seems to hand you exactly what you need – particularly at Christmastime. In this new yuletide tale, Riley is scraping bottom when she miraculously lands a job with a wealthy New York City entrepreneur. He’s a bad-boy socialite type who is poised to play Scrooge by closing one of his factories just before Christmas, which would devastate and entire town. It’s left to Riley to talk him out of it and turn him into a man of virtue rather than shame. But will a case of mistaken identity ruin the whole plan?

Everything you’d need to know about this “movie” is here.

I guess this dude passes as good looking? I don’t know what the hell passes for “good looking” with the ladies today. He looks kinda nerdy and geeky to me, but I am easily jealous. Since I am being judgmental, Shenae was much better as a redhead. I guess some might say I have a thing for reds. But the dark hair ain’t working for me, and I will be sure to let her know in the next 500 Tweets I send to her.

The movie starts at 2 PM. My guess is I will want to start drinking at 2:05. But that’s OK, because I am unemployed, and pretty much do that regardless of day anyway. Onto my review and thoughts.

Trust me when I tell you this will be far more entertaining than the actual movie. I think it’s gonna take me longer to write my critique of this movie than the hack who actually wrote it. Note to self; write my own realistic Xmas movie where there isn’t always the “Xmas miracle” at the end. Get hot chick to star. Ka-ching!

Open, stock shots, of NY, cut to interview. Shenae plays Riley Vance. Riley gets shot down for a great job because she is unemployed, I feel ya, sister. She gets a hot tip to interview with William Young, who, of course, has just inherited his father’s company. Our, heroine, Riley, gets the job, but-shocker-her interviewer confuses her with another Riley (that happens in stripper clubs a lot, too), Riley Van Allen.  Our Riley never lets on, and we never know what happened to Riley Van Allen. Maybe she ended up a corpse on the ID Channel or something.

Of course, William is contemplating closing down the flagship factory. Next thing we know, Riley is flying her way to Dover, the requisite small town being kept afloat by the toy factory. Yup, like this shit happens in real life. Fill in the blanks, hack writers.

William doesn’t like Xmas of course, so I am with him. Willy doesn’t fly he wants to drive-his motorcycle. Rebel. On his way into town, William gets pulled over by what can best be described as the “local-yokel” officer. William takes his helmet off, and of course, perfect hair. It is noted, he has no luggage what so ever. Dunderhead William didn’t bring his ID, so he gets taken to jail. If he can’t even carry ID, how can he run this company? The local paper runs a headline how William already got arrested his first 5 minutes in Dover. I don’t like his chances….

First commercial break shows an ad for what has to be another horrible Xmas movie starring another girl I am pretty sure was the brunette in the new 90210. Is there some sort of clause in their contracts? 

It’s 20 minutes in and no drink yet. I think I should get some sort of chip for this.

Riley takes William to the house she’s rented. He hates Xmas and demands all the decorations she put up be taken down. You da man, Willy! Not shown, William watching Riley seductively bending and stretching while she writhes to take down all the decorations. At least that how I would have written it.

William says his parents weren’t around for Xmas. Um, yea, maybe because they were busy running the family toy business and affording your lavish lifestyle, you dickhead. You don’t deserve my sweet Riley, even with her dark hair.

There’s a nosy town reporter starting to take pictures. This could be trouble. Rilliam-as I now call Riley and William-head to the factory. Cue montage of William and Riley touring the toy factory.

Now I’m no expert here, but when I see the factory is making wood toys, magnifying glasses and teddy bears, no one should be shocked it’s going under. The cup and ball segment has shrunk since the 1920s. Where’s the drones and X Boxes and smart watches? At one point, Riley says, “Nothing is impossible at Xmas time!” I think I just puked in my mouth a little bit. Riley comes up with an idea that-of course-can lead the factory to profitably.

The town is just happening to have it’s 114th Winter Carnival. The mayor cajoles William to be grand marshal. It looks like this ‘carnival’ is taking place in an alleyway, this town really is kinda shitty. Another local yokel immediately heckles William, and asks if he’s going to close down the factory. William waffles like a true politician.

Riley gets bummed out that William choked, so she does what any cute girl does-sit by herself on a park bench. Then a “Santa” just happens to come by and does what any dude would do in this situation-hit on her. OK, maybe he really didn’t, as any guy in a Santa suit can be a bit shifty.

In the interest of transparency, I am skipping parts here. You guys should be thanking me. William runs into the Santa guy, who is clearly the real Santa, like, duh. I think there has to be a real Santa in all these Hallmark movies. Another Xmas movie crutch.

Call me nuts, but I think these crazy kids are falling for each other. That’s a pretty novel twist for a holiday movie, right? Right?

I really didn’t think I could get offended by anything I saw on TV after the election, but I am wrong. 
My seven remaining brain cells are distraught. Ha, little do they know all the beer will kill them tonight!

After the break, Rilliam are at an ice rink, which is probably the coldest set in the entire damn movie. They’re getting kinda flirty, but there’s that nosy reporter with her nosy camera! William starts laying it on to Riley. William will make dinner for Riley. Take notes here, guys.

"Trust fall!" Catches her by the boobs. 

During this commercial break, we (I feel like you’re here with me now. I even put pants on.) see more previews for shitty Hallmark Xmas movies. This one was for as big Hollywood star who comes back home and falls for two small town guys! Drama! I can’t wait to not watch it! I think anymore is all they do is just hack up all their older movies with the same damn plot and re-edit them back together.

I also see an ad for It’s all just people swiveling on a board. I shit you not.

Back to whatever this movie is called. Good to know it’s rated TV-G, since only 5 year olds could enjoy this crap. While having dinner, William tells Riley she reminds him of his grandmother. Dude! Brah gotta work on his pick up lines. Nosy reporter takes pictures of them eating and the next day’s headline asks who his mystery date was. Aren’t there like lost dogs or a local football team to report on?

While at the factory, William is approached to be in Secret Santa. He doesn’t know what that is. He draws the youngest girl there. Will is a hit in this town. Rilliam declare there was no date last night-as they eat lunch. By themselves. William needs help buying for his Secret Santa. Riley finally gets William to dish on why he doesn’t celebrate Xmas.

William’s mother died, so his grandmother made Xmas special. When grandma died, that magic faded, William’s father was too busy running the damn company. William misses grandma at Xmas, so therefore, he hates it. Sound logic to me, William. Air high five, you overdramatic bastard.

45 more minutes of this bullshit. I have never wanted Xmas to come quicker.

William’s company runs Riley on their site as being a new hire. But, OH NOES!! The company website listed the Riley they thought they hired, not our current Riley. You know who catches this? That meddling reporter, that’s who. I smell complications!

Riley gets William to read to a bunch of school kids. She knows he can read; she must be turned on now. That Santa guy reappears. Neither Riley nor William invited him. They have no idea who this guy is, and don’t seem concerned that Santa is spending all this time with young children. I am sure the school will just send a letter home about this “stranger danger.”

Riley says she’s never had a boyfriend past Thanksgiving. I think this is called foreshadowing. Or she just dated guys that didn’t want to buy her presents. We’ve all been down that road before.

Fucking 32 minutes for Riley to be exposed as the wrong Riley. Also, the factory and town need to be saved and Rilliam has to happen. Lots to tie up. I sense the reporter will bust Riley at the factory or in front of the entire town. Damn mainstream media.

Do they award Pulitzer's for blogging? Because, damn, I feel like I am earning it with this one.

After redecorating the house for Xmas, Riley invites William to Xmas at her parents. That’s her boss still. Totes awk. While at the factory-called it!-nosy reporter busts Riley in front of William. Riley confesses, William, now douchey and not taking her cuteness into account, gets all pissy. Riley leaves, William gets all emo and mopey.

Yet, everyone else can forgive Riley and see how good she is. William is typically dense, such a dude. Even the freaking mayor tells William to nut up. The mayor goes on this long, sappy drawn out story about meeting his wife. In writing circles, we call this the “Oh shit” moment, where the obvious point finally dawns on a character. I am pretty sure this “Oh shit” moment happens at just about this point in every one of these damn movies. William’s all caught up “Riley wasn’t who she said she was.” William must not be on Facebook. Or Tinder.

Riley retreats home to the safety of her parents’ couch. Doorbell rings! Guess who? Bill Cosby! JK, just seeing if you’re still paying attention. It’s William. Rilliam might happen!! I hope he brought her a Sexy Santa set!
He says he now doesn’t care she “lied,” he needs her to come back to the factory tomorrow.

To save the factory, William bought the remaining toys. Now they just need to deliver the toys. While Rilliam is in the truck, he sets her up with her own business so she can consult on his other companies. The truck breaks down, and Riley fixes it. Clearly, there is nothing she can’t do, and at this point, I might take a swing on her.

FFS, the last 5 minutes are mushier than damp bread at the bottom of the lake. They start making out, camera pans to sky. I’m pretty sure they broke up before New Years Eve.

Thank God this shit is over. I feel dirty.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

My 25 Better Names Than Las Vegas Golden Knights

Jesus Christ, the Golden Knights? Really? Vegas finally get s pro team-and this si the best they can do? Like it's not already enough that Bettman has decided to get rid of the situation that created the best story in sports this year. Now we're saddled with another horrible team name. Have we not learned lessons from the Columbus Blue Jackets? How does that name get through marketing in the 2000s? Probably the same way the XXX gets through.

But I am not the type to bitch about the problem without offering a few solutions. So, here are my far better names for the new NHL Las Vegas expansion team.

Las Vegas Bone Rollers (rolling dice is often called Roll The Bones
Las Vegas High Rollers
Las Vegas Rollers
Las Vegas Bay City Rollers
Las Vegas Strip
LV Strippers
LV Conventioneeers
LV "Yes, I'm Really Singles"
LV Luck
LV Pit Bosses
LV Mafia
LV Late Knights
LV Champones

LV Quebec Nordiques (let's just cut to the chase here)
Vegas Vice
LV Rat Pack
LV Blackouts
Nevada Pierre McGuire Sucks Donkey Balls
Vegas Transients
LV Dealers
The LV Wolfgang Pucks
LV Wolf Pack (seriously, how cool would that be?)
Nevada No Necks
Nevada Knuckles
LV Bucket of Deplorables


Monday, November 21, 2016

The Not-So Great Hallmark Xmas Movie Challenge

I had been noticing a strange phenomenon on my cable recently, since before Halloween, actually. I mean aside from the fact Springsteen was right and there’s 257 channels and nothing on. How is that even possible? How can I have this many channels, and still not find anything good to watch? If it wasn’t for football, hockey, and a true handful of shows I like to watch, I would cut the damn cord. Anyway, apparently I have some channels that show nothing but Xmas movies. 24 hours a day, seven sad, sad days a week. What the effing eff? Is this why my cable bill is so high?

Why does Xmas get this much attention? Why not my beloved Halloween? There are a ton of cool, vintage horror movies out there, and more than enough since the slasher genre happened in the late 70s. Why can’t I have a couple channels of just horror movies for the month of October? They can take any of the 103 channels I never freaking watch. Is it too much to spend a few hours every fall with Vincent Price and Jigsaw?

"NO! Not the Heat Miser already!"

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything for myself. So what better way to bust out of a slump than to torture myself? That’s always funny, right. Right!?! Geez, the things I do for you guys. So, maybe it’s time I see for myself what one of these Hallmark/Lifetime Xmas movies is all about.

I will watch a Hallmark Xmas movie.

The good news is this is one less person to buy presents for.

You guys pick yourselves up from the floor yet? Yea, OK. Good

Now, I have done some cursory research-my favorite kind of half ass research, don’t cha know--and I think all these Lifetime/Hallmark movies have the same general plot. Cute, single chick meets handsome (I guess) dude with a secret why he doesn’t like Xmas. One of them might own a business. If it’s the girl, it’s a struggling business (like, duh, of course, she’s a girl!), and handsome dude’s company is threatening to put her out of business. Another hackneyed angle is the dude runs a business (usually a family business, often inherited) that is directly tied into Xmas; sells Xmas trees, a toy company, etc. His business is located in a small town where, of course, it’s the main source of employment for the town. And dude wants to shut it down because he has a penis and it’s evil. So he has to come to Christmasville or whatever, to shut it down. Said hot chick appears. She either lives in the town or works for his company. And, goddamn it, she’s just the one to save the town and admit her love for the dude 10 minutes before credits roll. Book it, done.

Often, the dude is so stone stupid, he can’t even see cute chick is falling for him. He might even-gasp!-start dating another trollop. I think there’s gotta be some shitty writing factory where they just hand out Mad Lib type outlines, and poor schmucks who can’t make any money writing their own blog have to fill out the blanks. Get a chick who used to be on One Tree Hill attached, and it’s green lit.

Naughty and nice.
OK, but I at least get to pick what dreck I am going to subject myself to. And if there’s anything that can make anything tolerable, it’s hot girls, so I get to pick. I have noticed that many of these movies star a certain tier of actor. Like not super-famous, but maybe was on a hit show a few years ago. In fact, more cursory research-my favorite kind of half ass research here-reveals there’s like a whole collection of actresses who apparently just do shitty Xmas movies now. Lacey Chabert
"Hey! Eyes up her...ah, never mind."

"My jacket conveniently hides my boner!"

does about three a year it looks like. Teri Polo, Danica McKeller, 

"I hear you like math. You + me= 15 seconds."

Candace Cameron Bure, Alicia Witt. I guess it’s smart money. Suffer through one movie, and it runs a billion times every year, and they probably get a nice royalty check.

These movies are my horror movies. After watching this, you broads better not ever bitch EVER when your guy wants to watch a horror movie. Actually, the two types of movies aren’t all that different. More often than not, a cute girl and her boobs is the main protagonist (look it up) in both horror and holiday movies. At times she will display poor judgment; i.e. run to the basement or fall for her boss. Holiday movies, though, are far more predictable. The factory will stay open, the town will be saved, Xmas will happen, the couple will fall in love. Every time. Why can’t someone make a dark Xmas movie? Maybe the factory closes, maybe the girl decides she doesn’t like the dude. Maybe that strange angel character was just a drug fueled illusion this whole time. That’s not how holiday movies work, apparently. But they should every once in a while.

And now I will subject myself to the sheer torture that has to be a Hallmark Xmas movie. There needs to be a word for dread; just a hundred times stronger. ‘Cause that’s what I’m feeling right about now. Wish me luck, and I hope to not be the shell of a person I expect to be afterwards. The movie review itself will be up on Black Friday; my gift to you.

You sadistic bastards.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

"Dear God, I Need a Job"

“What? A God post? And a job post? Kev, you said you weren’t gonna do these posts!” Well, yes, but I swear, this isn’t gonna bum you out. Stay with me here.

One saying that has been running through my head a lot lately is, “Nothing changes if nothing changes.” It’s one of those sayings that is just so simple, yet so true, especially these days. Unemployment has not been growing on me. This sitting home, staring at a computer screen all day is starting to drive me nuts. (Except when I’m writing, of course.) I don’t know how people who work in a cube farm do it all day. You really need 4 years of college to type on a computer?

I am addressing my networking skills. Like, as in meeting real human people networking skills. Here’s the rub. I hate meeting new people. Yea, that’s something you don’t put on the resume or say on the interview. I’ve realized a few things from my last job. I had to rely on some pretty sketchy characters to get my job done correctly. I’d much rather live and die based on my own skills. I think that’s why I love writing; I can do it by myself, and it all comes from me. It’s a dream job.

"Dang it, I knew I should have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express."
But it ain’t payin’ the bills, and for some reason, the mortgage company doesn’t like to get paid in jokes. I’m really not worried yet because I have two perfectly healthy lungs. I’m pretty sure I can find one a deserving home on Craig’s List. Coincidentally, I also have two kidneys and two livers. Um, no, actually, check that last one; I will need two livers. So in trying to mix things up from my last stretch of unemployment, I have decided to actually spend more time with strange people in my same situation. I’ve been attending a job group every week, as well as taking workshops and classes on resumes, elevator speeches, LinkedIn, etc.

In keeping with my do something different theme, tonight I went to a new job group. In a church. Yes, it’s come to that. Now even though I look like Jesus, I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been into an actual church. I was half expecting the holy water to catch fire and whatnot.
"The job club? Yes, it meets downstairs."

This meeting of the buckets of unemployables takes place in the church basement. I notice right away a creepy smell, I can’t quite describe it. Formaldehyde? Chloroform? The basement is cold and stark, built of concrete blocks. It reminds of a place clowns break into at night to boil and eat all the little children.
"Why, yes, we are the Three Wise Men."

“First, let’s start with a prayer.” “Aw, geez,” I think, “I was told this was nondenominational. I know I’m the new guy here, and look like Jesus. Please don’t ask me to lead.” Someone from the steering committee (I don’t know what that is, but there’s like 4 of them in the group. Maybe they’re there to steer us wayward heathens back to the church?) says a quick, generic prayer.

There is a skinny, older guy at the table across from me. He is that type that always has something to say. There is a speaker for the group tonight, and skinny older, white polo shirt tucked into shorts guy goes on and on about how good the speaker is. He’s seen the speaker before. I’m getting a weird vibe off this shirt tucked in guy. I can’t (and ultimately never could) tell if he is a job seeker or another steering committee member. He’s one of those types that seems to answer the speaker’s every rhetorical question.

Before the presentation starts, polo shirt tucked in guy takes gum out of his mouth, wads it up and sticks it to the cardboard top of his note pad. At some point during the evening, he puts the gum back in his mouth.

The speaker can do one of two presentations, and debate breaks out about whether or not we want the Linked In presentation or “finding your dream job” presentation.  A nightmare scenario unfolds in my head:

Instructor “So, Kevin, what would your dream job be?”
Me “Um…writer…”
Instructor “Hey, that sounds great! What kind of things would you like to write?”
Me “Um, like….adult humor….”
Instructor (clearly not seeing where this is going) “What do you mean, adult humor?”
Me (mindful I’m in the basement of a fuc… um..freaking church) “Umm…rather blue humor. Pretty sure I break the 4th Commandment a lot. I’ve written pieces with the c-word in them. And I don’t mean Christ.”
Instructor (pointing) “Get out.”

Fortunately, the nightmare scenario is avoided, as group votes for Linked in. I am not surprised when much of the advice given in this Linked In presentation directly conflicts with much of the advice given in my last Linked In workshop. This happens a lot. The speaker notes how important it is to have a good photo, and shows us his photo. Which is clearly from a few years ago. I quickly change mine to Channing Tatum.

Next week, I hope to take a resume class at a synagogue. 

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Suck It Fall, Summer Is Still the Best

Because in summer, hot girls are all like:
I can't caption this; I am too busy staring.

Come winter, the hot girls are all like:
"I'm naked under four layers of clothes."

Wait, you want more? Geez, needy bastards. I don’t get paid per word here.

As I write this, it’s Wednesday, September 7th. And this is actually news to me, since I have been “between jobs” for a few weeks now, days are relative to me. I used to know trash day was Thursday, because, well, I actually knew when it was Thursday. Now I rely on my employed neighbors to wheel their trash out on Wednesday night, and I know the trash has to be out the next morning. Actually, it’s not the trash I am worried about, it’s getting rid of all the empties…

This time of year, I am beleaguered by people who endlessly prattle on how they “love the fall,” “I love all the leaves” and “it’s the best time of the year.” Um…no. These people are wrong and also the type of people to not stand for the National Anthem. (Too soon?) These people are not to be trusted. I have found that upon hearing the leaf comment, presenting them with a rake is usually enough to get them to shut their ignorant pie hole.
Eat shit, Rusty.

OK, so let’s take a breath here before we cast judgement, let’s be impartial to these ignorant shit heads. Let’s look at some of their chief arguments (who, by the way, is also the name of the Indian in the Village People, I believe)

“I love the color of the leaves.” You sick freaks. You know why leaves change colors? It’s because the tree is sucking back all the water and oxygen from the leaf itself. Fucking trees. These are also the people who say they love “all the color”, then refuse my constant invite to rake my GD yard.

“It’s so much better than the summer.” See the top two pictures, feel free to insert the person of your desires and tell me again with a straight face. Though, I will concede any girl who wants to rake my yard instantly gets one full point more attractive. And what 8 doesn't want to be a 9?

Your move.
“I love pumpkin.” Enough with the pumpkin thing already. Nowadays, you can’t move your head without seeing pumpkin spice coffee, pumpkin scented candles,pumpkin chunkin,
pumpkin puree, pumpkin beer, pumpkin soup, CM Punk in UFC, pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin pie, Smashing Pumpkins, pumpkin hand soap.

Summer is the best season. You actually have to prepare for summer. You have to get in shape. You never see articles like “Fall Shred For Winter Abs!” or “Best Places To Go For Your Winter Vacation.” Summer is the only season where it’s implied you just slack off for three months. That’s why, come Labor Day, it’s ‘back to work’ and ‘back to school.’ No one ever says, “Welp, now that winter is done, I guess winter hours will be over at the office now.”

There are literally thousands of songs-many considered classic songs-about summer. Acts like the Beach Boys and Jimmy Buffett make their bones by singing only about summer. Can you name 10-hell, I’ll go ya 5-songs about fall right now? 5,4,3,2,1 buuzzzzzzz. You can’t do it. Maybe you tried to sneak in a ‘harvest’ song or something, but you can’t do it. That’s because musicians hate fall (and winter) because it makes touring that much more dangerous. You’re never gonna hear Drake singing about a booty call when there’s wet leaves on the road.

People don’t get seasonal affected disorder in the summer. Typically, SAD starts in the fall and lingers into winter. One of the treatments for SAD is light therapy. You know, light, like the sun that is abundant in the long days of the summer. You may love fall, but fall is trying to kill you. Just like leaves on the tree. Fall is when things die; leaves, plants, grass, my hopes and dreams, Taylor Swift’s relationship. No wonder Halloween works so well in the fall.

I do my best to hold onto the summer. I wear shorts everyday for as long as possible; flip flops, too. (This makes for awkward job interviews, though.) The hammock stays up for as long as possible, I try to grill outside for as long as possible. And look at what we do when summer is over; we burn shit to stay warm outside. Bonfires. You can’t walk into a store without seeing firepits. Hey, here’s an idea; if it’s cold outside, stay inside. That’s what we have shelter for.

To be fair, there are some things I like about the fall. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and the amount of slutty Wonder Women
Aaanndddd I'm done....
and Harley Quinns
Close enough, let's go.
this year should be bonertastic. Fall also brings God’s greatest sport-hockey-back. Football also returns, and this year I am looking good as none of my players have been seriously hurt-yet.

Fun facts; the following are things you don’t have to worry about in the summer; raking, scraping, shoveling, blizzards, frost bite, freezing your nuts off, avalanches, forgetting to get a Xmas present for that one damn aunt who always buys you something every year and Wampa attacks.

I've made my case. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta get the trash out.