Krull is the best movie ever it’s just you that sucks

That’s right.

Krull.

Alot of peeps look down on this action/adventure/sci-fi/fantasy mashup from the 80’s. It was dwarfed in popularity by a much more well known sci-fi epic also released in 83 called Return of the Jedi. Now don’t get me wrong I love the original trilogy as much as the next uber-nerd, but Krull is at least as good as Return, if not in some ways better….I’m sure there’s a throng of Lucasites now choking on the foam that was already building around their Twi’lek pseudopod licking lips so lets break it down…

The biggest issue people seem to have with Krull is the scene where our intrepid band of heroes uses a pack of wild horses capable of flight to make the several hundred league journey to the dark lord’s castle before it teleports away to an unknown location. For some reason suspension of disbelief is just alien at this point in a world were we have already established that sorcery is real. I don’t get it. So what there’s a scene with flying horses, there’s also a shapechanging magician, cyclops, demons, giant spiders, telekinetically controlled weapons, teleportation, doppleganger assassins and clairvoyant senior citizens. WHY THE FUCK ARE FLYING HORSES A PROBLEM IN THIS SETTING?!?!?!

Does the internal dialog of this realization go something like:

Fuck yeah cyclops’ are awesome………Holy shit that is one giant demon spider….wait….wait….WHAT THE FUCK FLYING HORSES?!?!?!?! WHAT MANNER OF WITCHERY WOULD THIS FILM HAVE ME BELIEVE IS POSSIBLE ON A FICTIONAL PLANET IN A HIGH FANTASY SETTING?!!?!?!?

If that does mirror what you feel when watching Krull then you have no recourse for being able to sit through an entire screening of Return of the Jedi either. If you can’t stomach flying horses then there’s no way you can even handle the Battle of Endor scene without going into an epileptic fit.

During the Battle of Endor a technologically superior force, capable of interstellar travel and the manufacture of a moon sized space station, is defeated by a group of 4 foot tall  100 lb teddy bears with the technological advancements cavemen.

TOTALLY IMPLAUSIBLE

TOTALLY PLAUSIBLE

LOLWUT?!?!?!

This scene is roughly equivalent in scale to me demolishing an abrams tank with a bocce ball set and some rope.

ME: Krull is a decent early 80’s sci-fi flick with a better than average cast and production values for the time

LUCASITE ASSBRAIN: LOL KRULL IS TEH GAY UR A FAGET WHO LOVES FLYING HORSES….HORSE CAN NOT FLY SILLY LADYBOY

ME: Yeah, so that scene where the ewoks blow up a pair of Imperial walkers with twigs, vines, and rocks….that could really happen right? Like if I showed up in the amazon and decided to decimate an uncontacted tribe with a tank….they’d put up an awesome fight with their blowguns and frog poison darts right?

LUCASITE ASSBRAIN: erk….uhm…FUCK YOU KRULL IS GHAY LULZ

Krull also had a decent cast and acting for the genre and time.

Freddie Jones - http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0428086/

Liam Neeson – http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000553/

Bernard Bresslaw – http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0107805/

Return had a a great cast too, but it also had the co-star from Nighthawks

FUCK YEAH!

What came first the manager or the dick?

Somewhere in the unwritten laws of the cosmos there is a logic statement dictating that all managers must be dickheads. I’m not really sure who enacted this law, whether there was a vote, or if meeting notes were emailed out with action items, but whomever is responsible is definitely an asshole.

In the majority of any of the positions I’ve ever had, anyone with any sort of decision making power, managerial control, or ownership of the company has been a complete dickbrain.  I’m not the only person with this curse either. In fact I can’t think of one friend, co-worker, or family member who hasn’t mysteriously been plagued by the same seemingly unending stream of jerk-offs all apparently cut from the same cloth.

So even though Darwin seems to have missed this KEY chain of evolution, lets examine it. Most of these guys had to work their way up just like us. They started as stockers in the supermarket, or working the mail room, or fixing printers, or laying sod, or putting up drywall for someone else’s company. These guys jockeyed desks and keyboards and task lists imprisoned in grey cubicles just like me. So did they start off as raging cockasses? I’d really like to think not. I’d love to imagine a world were people like that DIDN’T get rewarded for treating everyone they encounter on a day to day basis like utter dogshit.

The other more sinister option, that keeps me up at night grinding my teeth dreaming about schools of piranha ripping and tearing my oppressors apart, is that the actual TITLE of manager/owner/headfuckhoncho creates this brand of jerk. I envision the horrible (yet awesome) transformation scene from An American Werewolf in London were our protagonist becomes the wolf for the first time. In my minds eye I see this happening to normal everyday guys like me on the day they get promoted to VP of Sucking Off the Chairman. The hint of power corrupts their souls and they become some kind of mutant were-dick. Destined to exact revenge on all their helpless underlings for the years of oppression they had suffered at the hands of dickheads above them. Employing cleverly passive aggressive techniques like

” Thanks for putting in those 30 overtime hours last week, but you know you were 14 min late today. I really need you to be more of a team player “

You know, the kind of psychological date rape tactics that should be reserved for re-runs of The Prisoner.

Fuck your cat.

I don’t care about him/her/it.

It is without fail that everytime I enter the checkout line at the grocery store with some article of pet supplies in my shopping cart, that the person operating the cash register must ask:

“What kind of dog/cat do you have?”

And then, also without fail, launch into some mindless diatribe about their pet before I can even answer!!!  WTF?!!

I don’t give a shit about your mangy little beast! ESPECIALLY if it’s a cat! I hate cats. By and large they are all assholes and are completely disassociative unless they need something from you. Then they are loud and obnoxious and won’t hesitate to slice your shit up if it so pleases them or they think it will further their quest to eat tuna.

Listen here underpaid overworked grocery line clerk. I understand that you are desperate for diversion after a 15 hour day dealing with human hogs giving you shit cause they didn’t know the 30 cent coupon for lean pockets expired yesterday. I can see how that might create an impulse to see my cat litter and think

” he has a cat…..i have a cat!!! maybe he’s normal like ME!?!”

Trust me I am not. And you might has well have a MUTE button on your chubby chin when you start telling me about Sir Pussmunch or whatever other ridiculous name your animal has. My brain immediately dials out the sound of your monologue about how your cat/dog loves this/that and blahhhhhblahhhhblahhhhhhhh.

It becomes white noise to thoughts of what the backlash would be if I randomly punched the old lady behind me in the throat as a karmic FUCKYOU for Grandma Liverspot giving me lip in the wendy’s lunch line the week before. I don’t dial back in until I hear the words

” your total is..”

I slide my card and leave resisting the urge to tell them what I really think of their cat.  It could get lodged in the oven on thanksgiving day for all I care. So seriously lady….FUCK YOUR CAT.

If this is what you get paid to do……

You should probably kill yourself.

Good luck with that.

Piss off grandma

So i’m catching my lunch break at wendy’s and about to leave when my cell rings. It’s the receptionist at my office asking me to pick up a to-go order for some co-workers. So I take a place at the back of the line. Now keep in mind it’s lunch time so there’s plenty of people ahead of me and I’m near the door.  As the recptionist finishes telling me what I need to order the door swings open and an elderly couple enters taking the place in line behind me. In one ear I hear ” and a large iced tea” and in the other ear I hear ” god damn kids, come to wendy’s to eat not make a phone call”

My brain snaps.

See I’ve got this credo I try to live by, and when ever possible try and enforce upon others when I feel they are breaking it. It’s simple really.

Don’t fuck with strangers, you don’t know what kind of nut you might be pissing off.

Only because the wendys is already crowded with the elderly and I don’t particularly feel like brawling an entire shuffleboard league do i not spin like a fucking spider monkey on grandma pisspants behind me and bark in my greatest Rommel impression.

” FUCK YOU wrinklebag! I don’t need any gruff from someone who couldn’t even dial my cellphone if she had to because she’d fallen  and broken her Life Alert medallion!!!”

My mind reels with images of stomping dentures on the curb outside,  I am so angry I can’t react in time. So I just turn, cellphone still to my ear and give her the eye. I am unsure if she notices because she’s only 4 feet tall and her neck no longer bends the direction it would require to see my face. Now I’m an angry fuck, but I’m not a villain. I WOULD have been justified telling Aunt May to back her asshole onto a doorknob, but I didn’t.

I hope she ordered the chili.

New lows.

It’s pretty awesome and simultaneously disgusting what people can justify doing under the guise of  “it’s just business” or if they think it’s either them or you.

Fuck you for not having the courage to look me in the eye.

Cubicle Etiquette

So I used to work in this cube farm office, lifted directly out of the movie Office Space. The job was ok in that mindless automaton kind of way. I imagine it was very similar to the many thousands of office jobs that were only semi-technical inside a company that had been around for decades; the majority of the staff was near retirement, change was feared, the concept of double-clicking to open a file or folder was still alien to most, and everyone…..EVERYONE was a complete whacko just under the surface. Not like zany funny whacko who talks to office furniture either. These quacks were the kind of terrifying normally reserved for being cellmates of Gacy and Dahmer. Like the kind of mouthbreathing troglodyte who comes to work with his pants pockets filled with raw hotdogs….which he never eats….and tells people they are for his dogs….which he doesn’t own. 

So after your mind is done  recoiling in horror at that imagery let’s talk about cubicle etiquette. Particularly the kind dealing with food. For the majority of my time at this job the cubicle neighboor directly to my left was woman in her late 50’s.  She was run of the mill office hen; couldn’t be nicer to your face, but also couldn’t wait to get to the cafeteria to cluck about everyone and everything. This was pretty standard in the office, gossip was the economy system that kept things moving. But the real crazies come out at night…..see we worked the late shift, so by the time everyone else left, a few of us stayed on for a few more hours. This is when Food Porn happened. Food Porn is a term I coined in trying to describe what occured only a few feet from me every night. See my neighboor was on every diet in the book. Being a bigger gal she knew that as soon as she was out of the room all the other hens were clucking away about her gecko tatoo that now resembled godzilla. So during the day she flaunted all the diets, and workouts, and pills she was on to the other hens, attempting to prove she was doing things right. But once they left, the game was up….and Food Porn was in full swing.

She would eat from the time they left, till the time we left. Everyone ate at their desks….and that wasn’t the problem. It was the noise. The sounds she made after waiting all day to dig into her buffalo chicken salad and salmon cakes and HUGE bowl of walnuts and nachos and meatball subs and onion rings……the sounds will stay with me for the rest of my time on earth. Every bite was a perverse squeal of joy that could only be akin to what it would sound like if you genetically spliced an oink and an orgasm. I don’t begrudge her eating a shit ton of junk food, I do the same thing regularly. What boggles the mind is that she did so in such a way with myself, and a few others sitting there listening to it. SHE HAD to be aware of the sounds she was making. Maddening. That’s the only word I have for it. AND THE SMELLS!!!! For god’s sake, and the love of all that is holy….if you work in an office DO NOT MICROWAVE FISH and bring it back to your desk where other humans are sitting. If you do this it is perfectly acceptable for them to use a staple remover on your genitals. DO YOU KNOW what microwaved 2 day leftover salmon smells like??? It smells like toolshed sex. The smells and the sounds made such a perfect mixture that if i closed my eyes the only thing I could see was a roman orgy dipped in KFC gravy…….scarred for life.

Considering a custom shirt to let assholes know; Today is NOT the Day

It’s really unfortunate that i’m feeling the need to get this shirt made. It should really never be a question to the balding  fuck who makes about 60k more a year than he’s worth that everything out of his sodasucking lips should not be a sarcastic quip or condescendingly dismissive remark. It only takes one of those to push a guy who’s having a shitty day far enough to stroll calmly out to his trunk, extract the largest wrench from his ratchet set and return to the office to smash the fatass’ face into a fine red pulp.

I get that you are edgy brah….But it starts to wear thin…..oh about 9 seconds into the realization that YOU ARE ALWAYS LIKE THAT. Fuck you for getting paid in excess of 50$ an hour to work a cushy desk job and STILL having a chip on your shoulder. Oh wait that’s a dorito…..my mistake.  If you are sooooo jaded from working at a place WHERE YOU MAKE GREAT MONEY TO DO SOMETHING YOU LOVE, then fucking quit. But so help me, take it out on me one more time, and i’m going to hook your hands up to a car battery just long enough so you lose the fine motor skills you get paid so well for. Then you can enjoy finding another career as cushy as this one. Maybe you’ll get lucky and find something that capitalizes your other talent of being an asshole all day. Otherwise I think your remaining skillset qualifies you for many fine careers in janitorial and food services.