PASTOR PAUL'S GAPING THROAT HOLE OF DESPAIR

TODAY AT WORK, I had the pleasure of meeting a horrible elderly man named Paul. Paul serves the Lord as a pastor for Saguaro Ministries ("His own little oasis in the desert", as he put it). Over a matter of less than one-hundred dollars (as well as a senior discount), Pastor Paul treated me like some sort of subhuman beast of burden, thus confirming my theory that religious people are more likely than sinners, fornicators, and heathens to treat total strangers like shit.

Oh yeah, and due to years of smoking, Pastor Paul had a dime-sized hole in his throat.

And he had to stick the last digit of his pinkie finger INTO THE DIME-SIZED HOLE IN HIS FUCKING THROAT in order to verbally abuse me.

I have two things to say about this:

1. First of all, this makes me believe that there really is a God, and he's got a really vindictive, dark sense of humor towards those who misrepresent him. Awesome.

2. Second, hold the fucking phone, everybody out of the pool.
I don't want to smoke cigarettes anymore.

I realize that I've said that kind of thing before. I realize that I've tried to quit twice and failed. But goddamn, the first cigarette that I fired up after Pastor Paul left tasted just awful. Instead of tasting pleasing and smooth and like a cigarette, it tasted like ashy campfire smoke and rat poison and dime-sized throat holes.

I threw the remainder of my pack into a stormdrain and walked away.

Unlike the other attempts, I am committed this time. It's something that I want to do for the right reasons...the other attempts have failed because I've been quitting for other people, instead of myself.

The plan is this: I'm going to go the entire month of May without smoking a single cigarette. No fuck-ups, no social smoking, no caving; whenever I get an urge to buy a new pack, I'm going to think about Pastor Paul inhaling blueish smoke through his throat hole. If I make it through May (which I will, because I'm awesome) then I'm going to buy myself something extravagant with the money I've saved: perhaps a Wii, perhaps a jetpack, perhaps a new dress for Steve.

Wish me luck, lolz. And if you see me smoking, please punch me in the throat.

"THE NEW SLANG: CLIMBING MT. DANTONI"

ORIGIN: "To future employers, independent voters considering me for reelection, and my mom: Mt. Dantoni was a long time ago and I've learned from my mistakes. I got help and I now give classes on how to say "no" in high pressure social situations to both inner city and rural students." -Our good friend Mat

MEANING: "Climbing Mt. Dantoni"-Something that, when written about publicly online, could seriously jeopardize one's job, financial stability, political career, personal relationships, and/or general safety from Big Brother.

EX: "When my boss read that thing I wrote about the night I climbed Mt. Dantoni, he immediately fired me, and now I'm totally fucked."

INTERESTING NOTE: Originally, "Mt. Dantoni" referred to something specific, tangible, and real (I think only Mat remembers what this is); "climbing Mt. Dantoni" instead can refer to any number of things, and therfore renders you untraceable.

"MANILA"

THE OTHER DAY I met a 24 year-old woman named Manila. She was quick to tell me, however, that she was named after the city in the Philippines, not after the envelope, despite the fact that her dark skin possessed the same beige color as the latter.

"My mother, she come from Luzon" she said. "My father, Visayas. They both meet in Manila, so I am Manila." She smiled. Pleased with her mastery of the words, pleased with her wit.

These events unfolded inside of a Jack-in-the-Box yesterday afternoon.
I was ordering at the counter. Manila was the shift manager taking my order.

As Manila continued to talk about what how wonderful the Philippines are (and how much she misses her namesake), I nodded and smiled. Thoughts drifted. I just wanted to get some tacos.

Then I noticed her hands.

It wasn't like they were gross or deformed, not really, but this girl Manila had the longest fingers I've ever seen. As she talked about Manila (the city), he hands flailed and gesticulated: cutting slashes across the air to demonstrate a rough estimation of height, pointing left and right, counting things off on her fingers. The bones in her hands were long and delicate, graceful like the bones a bird. But when she moved her hands quickly, it looked like two flesh-colored spiders danced from the ends of her wrists.

These hands could coax lovely sounds out of a piano, I suddenly realized. She could perform delicate open-heart surgeries. Repair the fragile inner-workings of an antique Swiss pocketwatch. It even seemed possible that with hands like those, she could probably play the piano and fix a heart at the same time.

"Two tacos," I said.

"ZOMBIE MONTH SO FAR"

A FEW WEEKS AGO, in this very blog, I spoke of my plans to make April into Zombie month, during which I pledged to watch "as many zombie movies as possible" and write about them here. At the time, I was rather optimistic:

"I've got a lot of free time...this could be a poor idea...or it could be
the best idea I've ever had, ever, in my whole life...even from this current moment until the day I die, I might never, ever, have a thought as good as this."

Or, it could be a poor idea. Turns out, I don't have as much free time as I thought, m'kay?

Also, it's kind of difficult to watch a new zombie movie every night.

I don't declare this a failure, however. I've drawn the following conclusions:

First, this makes me realize that forcing a theme into this blog (or anything I write) is a horrible idea. It makes it seem so forced. For the last few days or so, I've kind of avoided writing altogether. This thing is so much more enjoyable when topics meander all over the place. Speaking of, here are some things I'm going to write, soon. Variety aplenty:

-a short story ("Shakespeare's Bones")
-Hip-hop lyrics and online rap-battles ("The Illest MC")
-thoughts regarding the opposite sex (Girls I've Known, Dated, and Been Dumped By")
-a short essay ("Wizard Status")
-more entries covering new words and phrases ("The New Slang")

If one of the topics above is something you want to read, lemme know, partner. Or, if you have an idea for a recurring feature, I'm all ears.

I'm not going to stop writing about zombie movies, though; I'm stoked to tell you about Evil Dead 2. And Army of Darkness. Soon.

"SHAUN OF THE DEAD"

We're friends, right?
We've known each other for a long time? Yes?
Then I'm sure you've seen Shaun of the Dead.

It's just one of those movies. If you haven't seen it, or if you've seen it and don't like it, we can no longer be friends. Seriously.

I'm not going to summarize the plot, because hopefully, you've seen it (our friendship is at stake! we've covered this already). I will tell you this, though: watching Shaun of the Dead again has allowed me to pick up on some of the smaller references to other zombie movies that are peppered throughout the film. When Ed growls "we're coming to get you, Barbara!" into the phone, it's a line straight from Night of the Living Dead. In the electronics store, Shaun talks about how "Ash" is sick, referencing the main character from the Evil Dead series (this line also made me really want to watch Evil Dead II again, and I will be doing so, poste haste).

If you've already seen the movie (which I'm sure you have, because we're friends), I highly recommend "Danger! 50,000 Zombies!", a tie-in to Shaun of the Dead made by Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as an episode of Frost's BBC comedy series "Danger! 50,000 Volts!". The episode is about thirty minutes long, and it's a survival guide to a zombie apocalypse. The first part of the video is below...ch-ch-check it out.



ZOMBIE MONTH, SO FAR:
1. Night of the Living Dead
2. Return of the Living Dead
3. Shaun of the Dead

UP NEXT:
Evil Dead II

THE NEW SLANG: "THE TANK"

(Editor's Note: This is the first post of a new feature called "The New Slang", in which I write about new words and phrases that young people say in an attempt to capture my fleeting youth and be considered 2 cool 4 skool, lolz)

(Editor's Note: not only am I writing "features", but I'm also writing "editor's notes"? GAY.)

Recently, one of my friends (who shall not be named) casually referenced something called "the tank."

"What's that?" I innocently inquired.

"It's sort of um, like, a challenge," he replied. "See, first you fill up your gas tank totally full. And then you keep track of how many different girls you can sleep with before that tank of gas runs out. You can do different strategies, and stuff."

My mind boggled.

You see how many different girls you can sleep with before the tank of gas runs out.

My friend went on to point out the many "strategies". What if he rode a bicycle everywhere? He'd save gas, and yet the fact that he rode a bike would inherently "limit his seduction". "Could I sleep with more than one girl a night?" he wondered. "Could I possibly find an orgy?" I helpfully amended, this time with a smile.

First of all, this is probably the most eco-friendly way to degrade and use women. Ever.

Second, I hypothetically wonder how I would do. Probably poorly.

TWO OVERLAPPING CIRCLES

TONIGHT my dad and I watched Cash Cab together.

The host asked a question about Radiohead. I softly whispered "OK Computer", which was the correct answer. This prompted my dad to look over in my direction.

"Do you have a copy of that CD?" he asked. "I think I'd like to listen to it."

I nodded, and the circles that comprise our respective lives briefly drew together, overlapping like a venn diagram.

My own father expressed interest in my favorite band? This is meaningful.

"RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD"

After George Romero and John Russo made the excellent Night of the Living Dead, they disagreed on how a sequel should be made. After parting ways, Romero went off on his own and made Dawn of the Dead (which is excellent) while Russo wrote Return of the Living Dead (not as excellent). Tonight, I watched the latter.

The film begins with two dumbass employees of a medical supply warehouse accidentally releasing a gas called 2-4-5 Trioxin which, once airborne, reanimates dead flesh, and creates shitloads of zombies in the cemetery conveniently located across the street. These early scenes were some of my favorites: the two bumbling employees try to hide their potentially apocalyptic mistake from the boss while anatomical exhibits of dead butterflies and dissected dogs come back to life around them. These scenes play out with a light slapstick quality that I wish would have extended throughout the rest of the movie.

The story then focuses on a leather-clad group of teenagers with names like "Thrash" and "Suicide" who enjoy "partying" in the cemetery (stripping on top of gravestones, drinking, and talking about how awesome partying is). This movie was definitely made in the eighties. Also, the guy from Juwanna Mann plays one of the teenagers! Anyway, the zombie-gas released in the medical supply warehouse condenses into clouds and falls to earth as zombie-making acid rain, which produces even more zombies. Aw, shucks.

The teenagers go on to do stupid teenage things, and they get horribly eaten by zombies one-by-one. Eventually, the situation gets so fucked up that the military nukes everything, the movie ends, and I felt kind of disappointed in myself for watching it.

The film presents a sad commentary on the eighties by showing us exactly what people were scared of at the time (or at least what the film's producers thought they were scared of): sex-crazed, party-loving teenagers, acid rain, nuclear war. However, these things pale in comparison to the mind bending horror of this movie.

Here's the trailer for Return of the Living Dead. Check it out.



ZOMBIE MONTH, SO FAR:
1. Night of the Living Dead
2. Return of the Living Dead

UP NEXT:
Shaun of the Dead

"NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD"

If you're going to watch dozens and dozens of zombie movies, it makes sense to start with Night of the Living Dead. It's hailed as the film that introduced the "zombie apocalypse" genre to film, and is arguably the grandfather of modern zombie movies. This seems fitting: for me, the first few minutes of the film (as well as the zombies themselves) seemed to move about as fast as someones grandpa.

However, once the story gets going, things speed up. During a large scale zombie outbreak caused by space radiation (naturally), a group of human survivors hide inside a farmhouse miles from the nearest town. The farmhouse is besieged by the undead, and after a failed attempt to escape the the nearest rescue station during constant fighting amongst their ranks, they attempt to survive through the night.

Considering the budget he had to work with and the time period it came from, the film is remarkably well done. It's extremely graphic and sensationalist for its time, but it's shot in such a way that it looks almost like old war footage, or grainy videos from the evening news.

It's impressive to realize that the film set the standard for hundreds of movies to steal from; it also introduces some of the stock characters that seem to reside in all zombie movies: "The Intelligent and Somewhat Rational Leader", "The Emotional Hothead", "The Helpless Woman", "The Guy Who's Already Bitten And Rapidly Zombifying And Must Be Killed", etc.

All in all, a bit slow, but still rather enjoyable. Check it out.