This page is dedicated to assorted ramblings about film. The pieces may or may not actually review the films that they discuss. They are in no way meant to recommend that you see the film, nor am I going to try to steer you away from something that you really want to see. The films I write about are just as likely to be something I saw on television at three in the morning as they are to be new releases. They may offend some, and they may be poorly written; they may even be incomprehensible to those of you that don’t know me, personally. I may indeed give away surprise endings and, if pressed to do so, I may write about a film that I haven’t seen. That being said, shall we proceed?

It got me to thinking though. I think each person should think about where they would and would not live. I personally took the liberty of breaking the US down into three sectors. The “I would most definitely set up camp here” sector, the “I guess I would provided it was not in a dry county of said state” sector, and the “ha-ha, yeah that’s funny but I don’t think so” sector.

There were some trends that came forward. The first of which is obvious, nearly all of the states were towards the east coast. Nearly all of them enjoyed more than two of Mother Nature’s bounteous seasons. Surprisingly, I found that every single state that starts and ends with a vowel I have no use for.
Iowa? I wish it were closer to the ocean so I could just push it in and let it be pillaged by pirates who eventually give up on trying to find something useful in it, like my colon trying to eat iceberg lettuce.
Indiana? Pick a goddamned time zone already, for chrissake.
Alaska? Deadliest Catch at least got you a second thought.
Alabama? How do you spell backwards again?
Illinois? The “s” is silent. Close enough, I am lumping it in.

Anyway, it was an enjoyable exercise. I especially liked it because I just did it from the impression in my head. I did no research whatsoever. It was so politically incorrect that my mind reveled in its own ignorance.

While in Wisconsin I have been bouncing between hotels. My particular one comes equipped with 31 channels of cable goodness. For an expert like myself, 31 channels can be flipped through entirely in less than a minute. I spend a lot of time doing this, especially when I get in bed. Being a warm blooded male, I will admit that my thumb sometimes gets distracted, shall we say. This is often on one of the three Showtime channels I get. Over time I have noticed that there is a trend as to what is shown on what night. It is shockingly predictable and repeatable. I honestly believe that they have somewhere developed a formula that determines what night they have nudity, and to what level. I personally picture 4 fat guys, all in suits, chomping on cigars, discarding legitimate data brought in to them by the nerd department of the network. I am going to try and boil it down.
Monday – the week is just starting. People are exhausted and not interested in being titillated. Let’s show our original programming. Noone watches for movies anymore anyway, just like how noone watches MTV for music videos.
Tuesday – We need our male demographic, show our sports themed shows.
Weds. – It’s hump day! (fat guy #3 slickly laughs at the irony). Get the softcore stuff on. Movies – R rated, go get them.
Thursday – Our audience is somewhat desperate. Let’s get one option during the night that at least “perks” them up.
Friday/Saturday – Noone is home watching tv. Throw some movies on and call it a day.
Sunday – We should show serious movies. Or, we can regurgitate the same tired programming we will have on tomorrow night.

You are definitely welcome for the above information.

Fighting the Tuesday blues,
-Michael

I have heard rave reviews of this one. “It’s not as crappy as the other one in town.” “It’s a whole lot less ghetto.” It is only fair that I am greeted at the door by two very ghetto hostesses. I thought they were hostesses. More on this later.

So, I go through my normal “table for 1″ routine. We bypass the bar, the bar tables, one section of seating, and end up on the left side of the restaurant. I am then taken through the ENTIRE unoccupied section until I am against the window. I am the only person in the section. Literally I am so far over that I could not make out discernible features about the waitresses waiting on the nearest table to me. How am I supposed to enjoy Hooters if I can’t see tattoos, cheap weaves, cup size, eye colour, etc. And I am at an angle where I cannot even view any TV’s without straining my eyes. I confuse my Mensa level waitress (DumbSlut) by ordering a water, and then a drink. I also get a trivia console to console me for being such a dork and sitting in my own section.

I am on my 2nd trivia question when the food comes. Mind you it has been less than 5 minutes (good thing I didn’t get the all you can eat wings, which leave you in less than 5 minutes). The waitress opens my salsa. Let me reiterate that – my salsa came in its own container. She struggled with it, but the trooper eventually got it! I patted her on the head. I was so proud of her figuring out how to open it.

On the 4th question the burly female manager comes by (take a big sniff of that irony, folks) and proceeds to change the channel of the tv that I was playing trivia on. I AM THE ONLY PERSON IN THE SECTION AND THAT WAS THE TV I WAS WATCHING. After getting her to change it back I politely ask her why I was sat where I was. She informed me that it was DumbSlut’s section. Apparently there are not hostesses. The waitresses come up and vie for ones attention and then take you to her section. The manager went on to say “she must have really wanted you then.” Yeah, must have really wanted to make my dining experience miserable. So, the short of it is that I could have chosen my section based on whatever attribute(s) I wanted. It assuredly would have not been DumbSlut.

I wolf my food, eating, drinking, and playing trivia as fast as I can so I can leave. So much for that leisurely dining experience I wanted. I sat there observing as other people finally got sat in my section and how long it took them to utter WTF? Two guys stuck it out for 10 mins before they moved.

So I get through the meal and finally get the check. I put it on the edge of the table with my credit card on it. DumbSlut comes up and asks if I want it on the card. Well no, I want it gratis, but I suppose I will let you put it on the card.

I finally pay the bill, I mean I literally was putting the receipt back in when she comes over to start talking for the first time. At Hooters they talk to you for awhile, making you think for a few fleeting moments that you are not an overweight ogre in their presence. She then asks me if I am on my way to work. Yeah, you got me. I always have a drink before I go into work at 7:30 at night!!!

I am beginning to think Hooters really is a strip club. They peddle drinks incessantly, the girls look ok until the lights come on, the ugly girl is inevitably the one that sits at my table and wants to talk, the food is atrociously bad, and the servers are greedy wenches who will trip over things when you come in to try and mark their turf.

Maybe I shouldn’t CC Hooters management on this. Nah, I think I should. Imagine the coupons I might get out of it. Better than complaining to some company with a stupid product! At least the product(s) are far superior here.

Tackily yours,
-Michael

I noticed that there was a note on the door of the hotel today. It was talking about the time change last weekend, and how the clock needed to be rolled back, and to consult the front desk if one needed assistance. I get this, as there are many foreigners staying in the hotel. But, the note was so poorly written, and so convoluted, that I had to read it three times to understand it. There is no way a foreign person would have understood it.

I went into the hotel lobby to purchase a food stuff from the mini-vending area. They have a TV there. I see that the topic on CNN is “Animals in Need.” I figured it was about abandoned pets, or abused pets, etc. Instead they pan to two sheep in the studio. Freaking sheep! What the hell do sheep need? Are the shears not sharp enough? Are they taking too much abuse in the “lonely farmer” joke arena? Good grief.

I have vented in this space previously about my irritation with those God-awful family stickers on the back of cars. My new campaign is going to add two prongs to this triumvirate. I am going after people that have the Ichthus symbol on their car. It irritates me for some reason because I feel like it is a covert “hidden handshake” way of saying you are Christian. At least I know to drive like an a’hole around you on Sunday to test your mettle. The other irritation are those stickers with numbers in them. You know them – 26.2, 70.3, 140.6. They are signs that the person has done a marathon, triathlon, or superduperoverachieverEvent. Good for you. Seriously. You are in good shape and take care of yourself. Thanks for letting me know. I am going to put the number 2 on my car, for the number of hamburgers I eat per week. Better yet, I am going to start posting alternative versions of the three. Like 25.8 (number of pounds I am overweight),
removing the head of a family sticker, etc. I am not going to put “Darwin” in the centre of the ichthus fish though. That has already been done and is stupid too.

Grumblings aside, what a nice day!
-Michael

Generally speaking, and I have been to a lot of these style restaurants, part of the ambience (*dripping sarcasm*) is interfacing with the natural speaking employees. For example –

I was introduced in the past year to Thai iced tea. It is a different tasting tea that they essentially put a smidge of condensed milk on top of. It is so yummy, very sweet. I was craving one whilst sitting in my hotel room, er office. I sauntered down the hill to the restaurant at the base of the hotel. Given that it was mid-afternoon there were no patrons in there. The employees scrambled into place. I bellowed “No need for a menu, I simply want a Thai iced tea.”

The lady gets everything ready and says to me “Do you want ice in it?” I was dumbfounded. I went through everything in my head – I didn’t say Thai tea; I said iced tea. I nodded while muttering “of course I do.” She hands it to me and tells me the amount. I gave her exact change and turned to leave. I got halfway turned when she said “Can I get you anything else?” I already paid and was leaving. Why of course I want something else!?!?!?! Seriously, why didn’t she ask that before I paid. That is like going to McDonalds drive thru, getting your bag and beverage and then being asked by the nasal disembodied voice “do you want an apple pie?”

There are two hibachi restaurants near the hotel that have great prices on Monday and Tuesday. The closer one has p*ss-poor service, but in my laziness I went there last week. It gets crowded because many people are frugal like me. Ok, they aren’t AS frugal as I am, but I give them respect for at least trying. Anyway, all the tables are taken. There is a large sushi bar and a large regular bar. EVERY time I go there they shove me to the sushi bar, regardless of whether I want sushi. The seats are super tight together and I cannot stand it. This time the host goes “Just one? Sushi bar?” I replied “Can I sit at the regular bar instead?” The host came back with “Ohhh – sushi bar” and started walking. He got to the sushi bar and pulled out a chair. The problem was I had never moved from the host station. The hostess, after seeing this all go down, tried to politely coerce me to the sushi bar. I let her know as well that I would be sitting at
the bar. Finally he relented and sat me at the bar. Needless to say the service I received after that was less than hospitable. But, my favourite part was getting the host to change the station. No, I really do not want to watch the DIY network when the World Series is on. I am telling you – I am really not going back there after this. Well, unless I am lazy.

Suddenly hungry,
-Michael

After all, there is part of the room taken up by racing equipment. My toiletry “thing” takes up much of the closet, which results in shoes being double and triple stacked. Sporting equipment? Top shelf of the closet. I even added a mini Christmas tree to at least add some “festive-ness” to the daily existence.

I read the above, and have to laugh at myself. I complain, but then I see Bubbsy (as I have affectionately named him). Bubbsy has been here seemingly as long as I have. He is a big boy, north of the 300lb threshold that requires you to purchase more than one airplane seat. But, multiple times per day, I see him outside, with his weimaraner on a leash and a little tote. Open the tote, and out comes two more dogs, of the dachsund size proportion. I watch him load the dogs in the car, with no more room in his vehicle due to his stuff. It is a pretty nice, new SUV, so I don’t think he is really struggling financially, but I cannot imagine what his room smells like or how claustrophobic it must be.

That being said, I think I would gladly trade to be next to him instead and have some resident dog stink. I can not stand having every possession of mine smelling like an Indian grocery store. I got new towels last week. I leave for the weekend, come back on Monday, grab a new towel, and suddenly after my shower I feel like basmati rice.

I have lamented previously about the distance required to traverse to pitch the garbage on my hotel floor. Instead of hiking that, many of my neighbours have taken to just leaving it in the hallway. That would be fine if the maid always takes it! Anyway, a few weeks back, I saw Bubbsy’s equally girthy brother from another mother bringing his groceries up to his room – on one of the luggage carts. Naturally, such laziness means that he would leave his garbage in the hallway. I walked by a few days later, noticed what was discarded in it (clear bag), and had to go grab my notepad. The contents, you ask?

French onion dip
Chips Ahoy
Bud Light
Diet Dr. Pepper
Pizza box
Can of creamed corn
Pringles
Grapes (uneaten)

So, next time you feel slovenly, you can think of this upstanding member of the local Cardiac Club. And no, that will not stop me from heading off to lunch.

Eagerly awaiting his cholesterol results,
-Michael