The Angry Rant

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The MTV Movie Awards: Some Thoughts

May 31st, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Well, the MTV movie awards aired last night, and like any dedicated journalist (HA!), I watched them. Here are my thoughts:

Andy Samberg: Good host.

Eminem: Overrated.

Twilight: One of the worst movies that I haven’t seen.

Jonah Hill: I can’t figure out why he is popular.

Robert Pattinson: He won “Best Breakthrough Male” over Dev Patel of “Slumdog Millionaire.” That tells you everything you need to know about a cable station that plays roughly 13 minutes of music everyday, despite being called “Music Television.”

Paris Hilton’s My New BFF: Really? REALLY? Who actually wants to be her friend?

Megan Fox: As untalented as ever.

Twilight: This movie, totally blows. Yes? It just won its 9th award. Are 12-year-old girls voting for this? Oh, that’s right. Seriously, every time Twilight won an award, it sounded like a chorus of children getting their souls harvested by some sort of demon.

Something awesome just happened: Sasha Baron Cohen, doing Bruno, just landed his bare ass on Eminem’s face during a stunt that may or may not have been planned. Eminem then yelled “Are you fucking serious!?” before running out like a bitch.

Twilight: SUCKS. I can’t stress this enough.

Hayden Panettiere: She just rapped or something with “Big Pak,” a very poorly thought out commercial for Orbitz gum. I don’t know, but I think she should be embarrassed.

Jim Carrey showed up. I like that guy.

Kristen Stewart won “Best Female Performance.” Really? REALLY? Watching her act is like watching a mouse slowly get devoured by a snake. She looks awkward and uncomfortable, ALL THE TIME. Use a comb or something. And enunciate, for God’s sakes.

Ben Stiller got roasted by Zac Efron, Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, and Keifer Sutherland. Best part of the show.

Twilight: Seriously, I got ocular cancer from watching the “exclusive” clip from the new movie. Holy eff, these movies suck, our future generation is doomed if “Twilight” is the new standard for films.

I stopped watching around the two hour mark. Honestly, I can’t take any more of this. I’d rather watch “Juno” again than have to sit through any more of this. I mean that.

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Tyrese Gibson is a douche

May 27th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Dear Tyrese Gibson,

How are you? I’m doing well. Pop’s hip is acting up again, but you know him, always tinkering away on his truck. Anyway, there is something that we need to talk about. Before game five of the Western Division finals between the Los Angeles Lakers and Denver Nuggets, you sang the National Anthem. Good for you! I’m so happy for you! That must be such a great feeling to get asked to honor our great country in front of millions of fans around the world. If only I had a singing voice (or a set of abs like yours, *winkies!*), I would LOVE to sing the anthem in front of a packed house, especially with Memorial Day being earlier this week.

tyrese

Transformers, bitch! I do what I want!

But in all seriousness, and I hate to be this guy, believe me, but you effed up, Tyrese. You effed up goooooood. You see, the lyrics to your National Anthem (which honors our country, by the way) are not to be toyed with. I know that it’s cute to change a word around to pander to the crowd, but the reality is that a lot of people died for this country. And for you.

So when you changed “And our flag was still there…” to “And our Lakers were still there…”, I was offended. As was a lot of other people. And so they should be. I don’t care that you’re from California, or that you’re a Lakers fan, or that you think that your precious basketball team is bigger than our flag. The Los Angeles Lakers mean FAR, FAR LESS to this country than the National Anthem. And I mean far less. Like, they mean as much to this country compared to the National Anthem (see, the word “nation” is right in there) as a single grain of sand means to the ghost of the Lochness Monster.

So get it straight, Tyrese, you owe a lot of people an apology. You can start with every single person who has ever died for The United States of America, THE SAME COUNTRY that provided you with all of these great opportunities, including the one where you sang the National Anthem.

And after you’re done apologizing to them, you can apologize to everyone else for this egregious act. And it was egregious, Tyrese. You are not bigger than the National Anthem. Neither are your precious Lakers. It’s an EFFING basketball game, T. A game. A game that has no outcome that matters to anyone except fans. Is this really that important that you would need to change the lyrics to honor a basketball team? Do yourself a favor and take a long, hard look in the mirror. Use your head. Maybe all those flashbulbs going off in your eyes hurt your brain or something, but this is seriously inexcusable.

Yes, there is such a thing as free speech in this country, and I completely support that. And I support you wanting to practice your free speech. I do, really. However, I am practicing my free speech by calling you a massive douche.

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The Angry Movie Review: Terminator Salvation

May 25th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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In Terminator Salvation, the latest installment in the series of movies that pits man vs. machine, the scene shifts from the pre-Judgement Day setting of the first three movies, to a post-apocalyptic landscape in which the humans are being hunted down by SkyNet.

For the most part, Terminator Salvation is an entertaining and faithful follow-up to the Terminator series. The acting is on par for an action movie, with Christian Bale bringing his trademark intensity to the role of the protagonist John Connor.

However, my problem with the movie has nothing to do with the slightly convoluted plot, Sam Worthington’s not-really-that-good American accent, or the major plot holes, but rather the fact that Moon Bloodgood’s character looked like she just stepped out of a photo shoot.

moon1

What's up.

When her character, Blair Williams, isn’t too busy shooting at robots, she spends her time being ridiculously, almost unfathomably hot. Which, for the record, I’m okay with. Just because a nuclear winter destroyed the planet and effed up everything, that doesn’t mean that boobies still don’t have currency.

But there is a way to have the fantastically hot girls in the movies without making them look like fantastically hot girls. How, you may ask? Well, for one, you might want to maybe put some dirt on their faces or underneath their fingernails. If this lady is a fighter pilot, then odds are she’s been elbow deep in engine parts and grease.

Two: Their teeth. In a future where killer robots are killing folks like so many ants at a picnic, I can’t imagine that a decent dental plan still exists. I mean, the human resistance has their hands full with trying not to be made into a delicious soup, so I bet the guys over at Invisalign aren’t filling up their date book with fittings for braces.

Three: Their hair. The lovely Miss Bloodgood, or Goodmoon, or Gobstopper, or whatever her name is, has nice hair. Pretty hair. Flowing hair, even. But in 2018, I don’t know that you can get a good creme rinse or a root treatment when you’re avoiding certain death at the hands of steel killibots.

Fourth: Everything else. I can only imagine that hygiene and overall cleanliness is secondary to surviving in a horrific, post-nuclear landscape. The men in the movie all have some sort of grime caked into their four-day old stubble, and really, for the sake of realism, let’s uggify some of these ladies. I know the inherent irony in asking for a movie about self-aware robots that travel back in time to kill the father of someone who might one day lead arevolution against said machines to have a bit of realism, but as a moviegoer, it’s awfully distracting when you’re wondering if the hot jet pilot has ever shown her cans in a movie before. (For the record, she hasn’t. Damnit!)

But really, asking for a bit of realism in movies isn’t completely ludicrous. I just ask for some consistency when it comes to creating the characters. Christian Bale and Common’s characters look like they haven’t had a good shower in a lunar cycle, yet Moony Boodglood’s character must have had a spa treatment every morning in preparation for her carpet bombings of SkyNet’s communcation relays.

That being said, she is still hot. So that’s okay with this guy.

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What? My baby doesn’t need a seatbelt! That’s crazy! Pass me another beer.

May 18th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Last week, we talked about the mother who drove a 13-year-old girl to suicide. She was a heinous monster who should have never had kids. If Minority Report could actually happen, there should be an entire division devoted to weeding out shitty parents.

Well, the fine folks of Minnesota have provided us with another parent who is furthering the support for mandatory sterilization.

From StarTribune.com…

A drunken driver whipped around a cul-de-sac in a Willmar mobile home park, sending her 4-week-old boy in a car seat flying out of the open back door and into the street, police said.

Keys? Check. Beer? Check. Carseat? Eh…close enough.

Elaine Velasquez, 22, was arrested soon after the incident Wednesday night and charged Friday with a host of crimes including drunken driving, child endangerment, reckless driving and driving with a suspended license. A preliminary breath test measured her blood-alcohol content at 0.125 percent, well above the legal limit for driving.

Just like Mount Everest is “well above” sea level.

Before the incident, Velasquez was “cussing back and forth” with a man at a home in the Regency Estates West park. They got into a car, and the baby was placed in a car seat in the back right passenger seat. The car seat was not attached to a car seat belt, and police do not believe that the child was buckled in. Witnesses reported seeing the car speeding toward the cul-de-sac and then making a left turn that was so hard, the tires squealed, the right back door swung open. The car seat flew out with the infant still in it.

First, suspending a license has never stopped them from driving. It’s like taking away someone’s condom and telling them not to have sex with the drunk girl with the bad dye job.

Second, what are the odds that “Regency Estates West Park”  is a trailer park? And is anyone surprised?

Third, can someone please punch this bitch in the throat and then cut out her uterus so she can’t spread her seed anymore? What the hell is wrong with her? If you want to have a few beers and drive your dumb ass into a tree, go right ahead. But you’d have been better off leaving your kid in the care of a pitbull that hasn’t had a meal in six weeks. Really.

While the rest of us are working to make something for ourselves, these idiots are having kids and sponging off the system. Who here would be surprised if this lady was also on welfare? NO ONE. Because this happens all the time. Stupid, irresponsible, untrained, unskilled, retards are having kids and not taking care of them. And this has been happening for years, and nothing ever changes.

This lady deserves to be in jail, and that kid deserves to be in a home where the parents actually give a shit. This might sound harsh, but this baby getting tossed from the car is probably the best thing that can happen to him, because the odds are pretty good that he is going to land in a decent home. But considering where she came from, decent is like upgrading from steerage to first class.

But we still let this happen in this country. Can someone step up and create some sort of program that requires people to be licensed to have children? Sure, that sounds like 1984 or the rules in some dystopian society where everything is governed by the man.

But come on, really? Are we going to let these idiots have more children? Those kids stand zero chance with parents like that. ZERO. Let’s start sterilizing these people early so that we don’t have to keep reading about some poor kid who was victimized by their parent’s stupidity.

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Megan Fox’s hotness has hindered her career. WTF?

May 13th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Have you ever met anyone who seemingly has everything, yet isn’t happy with anything? They are the ones who complain that the 12-CD changer in their Cadillac Escalade isn’t big enough, that their mansion’s bathroom isn’t quite regal enough, and that the supermodel they’re nailing isn’t quite exotic enough.

There is a word for those people: Selfish. Or pricks. That one works too.

Well, Megan Fox, Hollywood’s rookie sexpot, is one of them!

From the IMDB…

Megan Fox has lashed out at Hollywood executives who reject her for movie roles because she is “too beautiful”.

The Transformers star admits she is desperate to be taken seriously as an actress, but is convinced her looks are hampering her efforts to land juicy parts.

And she accuses movie moguls of hypocrisy for creating a film industry based on beauty and then using it as an excuse for rejection on the audition circuit.

She says, “It p**ses me when people f**king complain that I’m too beautiful to get a part. That’s bulls**t.

“You wouldn’t be working if you weren’t attractive. Hollywood is the most superficial thing you could possibly be a part of. And if I weren’t attractive I wouldn’t be working at all.”

meganfox

"Oh, this? This is what all good actresses do. It's just an astounding coincidence that I'm hot."

Okay, I’m pissed off. Really, Megan? You’re not getting roles because you’re too beautiful? Really? THAT’S HOW YOU GOT YOUR CAREER. Let’s face it, Foxy, you’re not a great actress. Comparable, maybe. But great? Good is a stretch. In fact, you were downright awful in Transformers, which many consider to be your breakout role.

Having said that, you’re entire career is based off your “beauty.” And while we are at it, you’re not beautiful. You’re not pretty. You’re hot. There is a difference. You’re a hot girl, and to that end, you owe most of your success to your looks. There’s a reason that Michael Bay cast you instead of Amy Adams.

Ever since you’ve been in the public eye, you’ve almost made it a point to flaunt your looks. All those lingerie shots in Maxim and GQ and Esquire and whatever the hell else you’ve posed in are doing little more than to reinforce what we already know: That you’re hot.

And if you want to be taken seriously as an actress, you first need to be taken seriously as a person. And that’s not going to happen if you talk about how you might be bisexual, or how you are a freak in the sheets, or how you are so badass, or how sexsexsexsex.

I’m sure you’re a smart girl. You certainly sound like it, despite your unwillingness to channel Scarlett Johansson (have you ever thought that some people are just eloquent without trying?) in every interview. But really, you’re not good enough of an actress to convince people that you aren’t the super-hot girl. Stop posing in your underwear for every third men’s magazine, and stop taking roles that paint you as the sexually charged vixen.

You may have doomed yourself to a lifetime of these roles. The thing about actors is that the more you know about them, the more you are aware of their public persona, and the less able they are to convince us that they aren’t that person. No one will take Matthew McConaughey serious as slobby video store clerk because his public life is so ingrained in our brains.

And since you make it a priority to make sure that we all know how sexual you are, that’s the only roles that you are going to get. It’s not a coincidence that every movie has a lingering camera shot of your ass. All I’m saying, is get ready for a lifetime of these roles, culminating in 40 years as Stifler’s Grandmother in American Pie 23: We’re Officially Out of Ideas, So Here Are Some Boobies.

Why don’t you go complain some more about how hot you are. I’m sure its killing you knowing that teenage boys and bloggers are pleasuring themselves to pictures of you in a silk bra. Not to mention, have you thought about the fact that for the first time in recorded history, men are actually jealous of Brian Austin Green?

But really, Meggsy, go make some more crappy movies, get some more crappy tattoos, and talk about how dirty your sex life is with Brian Austin Green. Just don’t complain about it.

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That’s one less monster on the streets

May 12th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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I’ve often accused MySpace of many things: creating the modern day douchebag, pioneering the “super close-up picture so that you can’t tell how fat/gross/ugly I am,” and causing the IQ of teenagers to decline by about 3 points per every minute spent reading every pointless, unintelligible blog that’s riddled with spelling error and poor syntax.

One thing that I haven’t accused MySpace of is murder. I mean actual, physical murder. They’ve killed brain cells, interpersonal communication, and most of the traits that civilized people have, but it hasn’t actually killed someone.

But thanks to Lori Drew, someone that even not even a mother could love, MySpace just might have accomplished that feat.

You see, Lori Drew is what we would refer to as a “horrible person” or a “monster” or perhaps just “an asshole.”

In 2006, Drew allegedly participated in a ruse to create a fake MySpace profile to torment a neighbor, Megan Meier. Using the name “Josh,” Drew and others talked to Megan, befriended her, and then eventually began to torment her, with messages as “You are a bad person and everybody hates you. Have a shitty rest of your life. The world would be a better place without you.”

One day after receiving that message, Megan Meier was dead. She hung herself in her bedroom, likely driven to it by the crushing blow that was “Josh’s” symphony of hate.

And just like that, Lori Drew found herself at the center of a debate that is trying to determine if she can be charged for murder, or if there was even a crime committed. But we can all agree that this woman is a monster, right? There is no doubt about that. She pulled a sick prank on a child, and that child is now dead.

But luckily for those that don’t tolerate these types, there is still a chance that Lori Drew could spend the next three years or her life in a six foot cell, if the courts hand down the maximum sentence that stemmed from her guilty verdict on three misdemeanor counts of violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.

Yes, it’s a shame that she couldn’t be charged for murder. But the law extends only so far, so despite the fact that this woman is responsible for Megan Meier’s murder, she can’t be charged for it. So she is basically getting off easy on some trumped up fraud charges.

With any luck, Drew will serve all three years of the sentence and have to pay back every penny of the 300,000 dollar fine that goes along with it.

But in reality, there is no prison sentence or fine that could aptly punish Lori Drew. She is a monster of the utmost degree; the type of scum that we only read about in the history books. This woman, this monster, knew that Megan had mental problems, she knew she was depressed and on medications. She knew that, and she exploited that for her own self-serving, retarded reasons.

She may not have hung Megan, but she may as well have handed her the belt. The ones who defend her, saying that Megan was going to kill herself anyway, couldn’t be more wrong. If someone was on a ledge, ready to jump, and you pushed them, then you are responsible for that. She pushed her, and she should be held responsible.

She might not go to jail for this, but for the rest of her life, every single person she ever meets deserves to know what she did. Her co workers, her friends, her family, every stranger on the street should look at her with disgust, like the monster that she is.

And she has to live the rest of her life knowin that a 13 year old girl is dead because she just wanted to have a little fun. Well, you had your fun, Lori.

I hope the joke was worth it.

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The Angry Movie Review: X-Men Origins: Wolverine

May 3rd, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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When the decision was made back in 1999 to cast Hugh Jackman in 2000’s X-Men, fans of the comic were justifiably skeptical. After all, Jackman was a relatively unknown Australian actor who was probably best known for being the ruggedly handsome man that your wife was eying up when you were on vacation in Sydney.

Further compounding the fears of the fans was the fact that Jackman was cast as Wolverine, one of the more popular characters in the X-Men universe. If he didn’t deliver the hardened, tough-as-nails edge that the character needed, who knows what happens to the franchise. Fortunately for everyone involved, Jackman nailed the character and was the breakout star in X-Men, thus launching his Hollywood career, two X-Men sequels, and a slew of superhero movies.

It was only a matter of time before Wolverine was given his own movie, but on this go-round, the filmmakers failed terribly, and delivered a murky, muddled mess that’s teeming with every cliche in the book, coupled with bad writing and direction, and cheesy special effects that do little more than detract from the action.

There are so many things that’s wrong with this movie that I’d feel bad if I left any of it out. The only good things about Wolverine were the performances from the two leads, Hugh Jackman and Liev Schrieber. At times, Schrieber’s Victor Creed has more precense that Jackman’s Wolverine.

Whenever Jackman or Schrieber aren’t on the screen, the film suffers. The rest of the cast of characters are cliched, poorly written, and not particularly well acted. But even when they are on the screen, it doesn’t get much better. The writing was messy, the plot was silly, and the special effects were laughably bad.

Perhaps laughably bad is a poor way to describe it.

Embarrassingly bad is a better way to put it. Monumentally bad. Apocolyptically bad.

I can count on two hands the number of times that the special effects took away from the scene. Climactic battles looked more like they were filmed for a made for television movie, instead of a big budget blockbuster. But the most egregious use of special effects concerned Wolverine and his trademark claws. At times, they looked drawn on and completely unrealistic, as if though the special effects guys ran out of time, money, or both.

wolverine

If only the special effects were this good.

When the special effects weren’t detracting from the experience, the acting and writing were. I knew I was in trouble within the first 10 minutes when a “bonding” scene took place with the main characters that had all the subtlety of a jackhammer. They might as well have screamed out “PAY ATTENTION! THIS IS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! DO YOU NOTICE HOW SOME OF THEM DON’T GET ALONG WITH EACH OTHER! THIS IS IMPORTANT!”

Yeah. Something like that.

This movie could have been good. It could have been really good. Jackman and Schrieber were both solid, but their performances were wasted with a bad story and worse special effects.

In the wake of Iron Man and The Dark Knight, which gave the superhero genre a much needed kick in the brain, perhaps we’ve become spoiled. Those movies brought us solid writing, good acting and characters that we actually cared about.

Look, I’m not asking for The Shawshank Redemption. I’m not even asking for Garden State. I’m just asking that you make a movie that can entertain, but not at the expense of the rest of the movie. The story was borderline insulting, the special effects look like they were made in a high school computer lab from 1998, and an explosion every 12 minutes doesn’t mean the movie is good. It only serves to keep the stupid people entertained.

This movie was not good. In fact, one could say it was horrible. It had a golden opportunity to actually build on the Wolverine character, but it only succeeded in making us care less about what happens next.

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Heidi and Spencer are kind of stupid, aren’t they?

April 29th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Lookit, I’m not here to hate on The Hills. In fact, I’ll be the first to admit that I love some “non-scripted” drama. As far as television shows that bring us the lives of over-priveledged and completely self-unaware egomaniacs, The Hills is tops. It’s like the Muhammed Ali of the non-reality reality shows. It’s also vastly superior to its predacessor, Laguna Beach, and its spinoff, The City, merely pales in comparison. (With the exception of the main character, that is. Whitney Port is slammin’. That’s right.)

In bringing us the weekly goodness in thirty minute installments, they’ve also unleashed a slew of dull and uninteresting narcissists onto the world, including Kristen Cavallari (still waiting for her sex tape, by the way), Brody Jenner (technically famous because of his dad, Bruce) and Audrina Patridge (Oh no, someone saw my naked photo shoot from a few years ago? I’m so embarrassed! Wait, I can make money on this? Hooray!).

But the two narcissists who are constantly assaulting our senses with their behavior are none other thean Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, the resident antagonists from The Hills. Heidi is overrun with narcissism and delusions of grandeur and Spencer is, quite frankly, just a douche with a beard.

For whatever reason, the paparazzi seem to love this pair, so it’s no surprise to see them at the grocery store, the one hour photo shop, or the recording studio, where Heidi listens to voice doubles lays down tracks for her new album.

So it should come as no surprise that these two were spotted in Mexico, most likely on their honeymoon for their most likely fake wedding. That sounds fine, except for the part where they were clad in surgical masks, and the part where Mexico is ground zero for the burgeoning panic that is the result of the outbreak of the swine flu.

*sigh*

Really, kids?

Really?

heidispencer

Well, at least you can't see his beard.

Okay, maybe the swine flu outbreak is less of an outbreak and more of a creation by the media, but it’s far too early to tell. For all we know, this could be exactly what Stephen King was talking about in The Stand. But for the time being, I’m going to err on the side of caution and follow the advice of the Center for Disease Control and not take any unnecessary trips to Mexico. (Has there ever been a necessary trip to Mexico? I mean, one that didn’t involve booze or hookers?)

But these two thought it was that so important to take a vacation, even though a potentially apocalyptic virus was looming large in the adjacent hotel room. Is there anything that these two won’t do for some attention? If their on again/off again relationship, her music “career”, and his presence anywhere at anytime isn’t bad enough, they apparently don’t feel they are getting enough attention, so they stare directly into the eye of reason and common sense, give it the middle finger, and then cavort on the beach looking like Michael Jackson.

I’m not going to wish the swine flu on these two, because that would be cruel. The Angry Rant isn’t about cruelty to  fellow man. But should these two drink the water and end up peeing out of their asses for the next 48 hours, I won’t feel sorry.

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Photo-ops shouldn’t recreate the worst terrorist attack in our nation’s history. Seriously, they shouldn’t.

April 27th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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Have you ever heard something described as being so stupid that words couldn’t possibly do it justice? Among some of these acts of monumental stupidity are Pearl Harbor (nothing like bringing the United States into the war, eh Japan?) The Pontiac Aztec (here’s an idea: a car that looks like a block of cheese!) and Dane Cook’s entire career.

Well, it appears that those acts of sheer lunacy have all been topped, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it’s unlikely that this particular act of retardation is ever likely to be topped.

On Monday morning, a 747 and an F-16 buzzed lower Manhattan, putting a scare (and by a scare, I mean “it drove them into absolute bat-shit terror”) into New Yorkers, who are still a little shaken up when they see a jumbo jet slaloming in between the skyscapers. A feeling that’s more than justifiable, I’d say.

Now, if the plane was low on fuel, or the instruments were messed up, or there was some sort of emergency, then I could maybe see the need to fly that low in the middle of the site of one of the worst terrorist attacks in the history of our country.

Maybe.

But the plane wasn’t low on fuel, and the F-16 wasn’t flying alongside because it was an emergency.

No, it’s far, far, FAR worse than that. In a moment of inescapable and mind-numbing doltularity (Yes, I made that up. I feel that no word in the current lexicon can sufficiently sum up this amount of mind boggling stupidity), it turns out that the 747 is actually President Obama’s back up plane, and it was buzzing Manhattan because it was a photo op.

Yes, a photo op.

As in, photo opportunity. Like, a baby-kissing, blue collar worker handshaking, thumbs-up to the troops PHOTO OPPORTUNITY.

Let me ask this question, what the hell kind of photos were you taking? Were you trying to capture the majesty of New Yorkers literally shitting their pants on film? Did you not have enough pictures of the horrified faces on 9/11 that you felt you had to do some reshoots?

I was hundreds of miles away from New York City when this happened, and my balls dropped when I heard about this. And you know what? My balls already dropped about 26 years ago. The sight from this morning made them jump back up into my body, only to have them drop again.

Really, didn’t anyone raise their hand during this meeting and go “Does anyone else besides me think this isn’t a great idea?” Everyone who was in the vicinity when this decision was made should be fired. And then everyone in Manhattan should get to throw fecal matter at them, because there is literally no excuse for this. None. Zippola. Zilch.

Seriously, isn’t this administration supposed to be about change? Change from the last eight years. And this is something that not even W would have done. He would have just had Cheney fire blindly into the air after downing a fifth of Jack. And you know what, we would have all just said “You know what, that’s about right,” and then we would have went on with our day. But this kind of stuff shouldn’t happen, not in a million, billion years.

Listen, had the citizens of the fine city of New York been notified well in advance of this, then it maybe would have been square. But no one knew about it. Not the NYPD, not the FDNY, not the Mayor. No one knew this was happening. And people panicked, and so they should have, because the last time a jumbo jet flew that low, a lot of people lost their lives.

Did the shots of ash and rubble covered citizens, running for their lives, not pop into anyone’s mind when this was planned? And guess what? The people were just as scared this time around, too. There are videos of men and women, scared out of their mind, running to safety. All because of some piss-poor planning and someone’s penchant for getting “the perfect photo.”

Come on Obama, your guys have to be better than this. If we wanted to scare the hell out of New Yorkers, we would just announce that Pamela Anderson and Courtney Love are going to be giving out free hugs.

But really, the bozos that planned this would have been better off drawing a set of boobs on the plane and taking a picture. And I mean a huge set. Like comically large. That would have been a better idea, because hey, who doesn’t like boobies?

747boobie

Now THAT'S a photo op.

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There is a bird in my wall. Seriously.

April 25th, 2009 by The Angry Rant
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It’s two in the morning, and there is a bird in my wall. That isn’t a euphemism, either. Like “man, I had this bird in my wall last night! It was crazy!”

birrrrd

I bet he'll be tasty.

There is an actual, live bird, trapped in my wall. A fowl imprisoned in a drywall cage.

I started hearing things a few days ago. Simple things, not enough to attract any actual attention. At first, I thought it was just the house settling at night, or perhaps even a squirrel on the roof, high out of his mind on acorns. But as the noise persisted, I knew it could only mean there was a creature inhabiting my walls.

It was quite possible that a mouse was running amok in my house, and perhaps that mouse decided to take refuge in the wall adjacent to my room. But I came to this horrible conclusion 20 minutes ago, when I heard the unmistakable “tweet tweet tweet” that was accompanied by the slight flutter of a pair of wings, futilely attempting to get enough room to fly.

But instead, the bird sits in my walls, making all sorts of noise like some sort of feathered retard. Instead of accepting the cruel (and delicious) reality of a slow and painful poultry death, the bird is attempting to survive. What a prick. Doesn’t he know that I’m trying to sleep? He can at least have a little respect for those who aren’t facing an imminent death and shut the eff up.

For now, I need to figure out how to get the bird out of my wall. It would be useful if I knew how the damn thing got in there to begin with. The only reasonable scenario that I can drum up at this early hour relies heavily on the notion of teleportation. Or a chimney.

But that would be ridiculous.

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