All my dreams....have just come true.

Santa Hates Your Children Almost As Much As Your Children Hate You

Santa is one scary mother-licker. First off, his name is an anagram of 'satan'. (Need I even continue? I mean, really.) He's portrayed as this altruistic, jolly old man, but you have to realize that children at certain ages don't particularly have the concept of Santa down yet -- but yet YOU, reader, insist on flinging your bundles of love into this strangers lap and insist on documenting the sheer terror in your little wonder's eyes with your Polaroid as you're beseeching them to 'MAN UP' and slap on a smile. Even if your child does have the concept of Santa down, it shouldn't relieve them any. "You mean a morbidly obese man goes airborne, busts up into our home Kool-Aid Man style, ganks our milk and cookies and left me nothing last year but this crappy sweater that says 'i love my G-ma? On top of that, you want me to sit on his lap this year as you reach for your Polaroid so you can always re-live the moment that I hated you most?'

There's a different Santa in every mall rocking the not quite white, not quite right, semi-yellow molester-stache who's itching to strangle your child (and possibly itching other obvious areas) but needs the paycheck so he can afford the presents to play this charade with his grandchildren this year as well. (That's best-case scenario of his motive for this job.) So the vicious, unnecessary cycle continue for the sake of tradition (or to fulfill your sadomasochistic needs). Every year you subject the children to this, probably to put them through the same hell you had undergone at the wrath of your passive-aggressive parents who were too scared to spank your spoiled ass and consequently felt a sort of schadenfreude-like satisfaction for watching you writhe at the hands of this demon.

So maybe that's not your motive. Maybe you genuinely want your children to be 'children' and enjoy the fantasy of this whole thing and all that comes with it -- nevermind that your little tyke just performed the five-point-palm-exploding-heart technique on St. Nick. So, at which point does your fondness of their believing in fairy-tales supercede the responsibility you have to ensure you don't actually fuck the kids up for good? When they're not afraid anymore? Do you really want to find junior in the closet Christmas morning, nervously bobbing back and forth, with a makeshift candy-cane crucifix? Santa hates your children almost as much as they hate you.












Actually, these are kind of great. I think I get why parents do this now. More please...




Credit for some photos

The Guys' Room, Guys

I think some people have forgotten some basic ground rules of public restroom use.

These urinals are amazingly close to each other. Close enough that it wouldn't be unlikely that you might even, in haste, grab my dick in the confusion of our unnecessary closeness. No, now is not the time to talk about spending time together for a guys' night out after work.

Next, how about you actually HOLD your junk while you're peeing? You're eventually going to, I dare say, touch it when you plop it back in your trousers, so standing there with your hands cozily plunked there on your hips like you are the ruler of all that you survey is pointless. I'm glad you didn't need to touch your dick, but I'm completely drenched just by having stood next to you. Oh, and please hand me my dick. WTF, man.

"Yes, Guadalupe (cleaning lady) -- I'm still in here, and no -- nobody is dying. It's just this guy in the handicapped stall who tore off all his clothes to take a shit. I don't know what he ate but I think he intentionally swallowed the heads of the entire 2007 Barbie collection so that he could use his 15 minute break to 'pass them' in pure ecstasy in the stall." "Shut up guy in the stall! I was talking to Guadalupe! What was that? Okay, then explain why I feel like smoking a cigarette after that experience?"

How about we start showing some decency in the public restrooms. I'm tired finding myself involuntarily playing impromptu slip-N-slide the second I step my foot in one of these restrooms that appears to have been the battle grounds for an angry pee match. Next time one of you mother fuckers slides past the doorway on your ass shouting 'weeee', it's on, bitches.

"Smell Yo Dick"

Hold on. Let me explain. Damn.

I don't particularly listen to rap these days but I don't really discrimi-hate either. There's a lure from the novelty of learning new slang and the fascination I have with the no-bars-held bluntness of the female counterparts which I pretty much find fascinating. This particular song really captures the true essence of what relation-shits can be like when it all goes to hell. I used to think Khia's "My Neck, My Back" was out-of-control, but as of today, I've officially heard it all as far as rap is concerned, and I'm not sure how much further it can go.

This is like poetry, really. Basically it's about this chick who believes that her baby daddy is creepin' behind her back; trying to get his pipe all wet on the side but she ain't having none of that shit so she resorts to investigating this a bit further by means of literally sniffing out any evidence that may still (for some reason) be lingering on his---yeah; hence, the song title. Aw, hell naw. That ain't even right.

Riskay ft. Aviance & Real - Smell Yo Dick

Don't front like you never wanted to try this on your man.

(Street credibility: +15 points.) Chyeah.


p.s., don't go using your Freudian reasoning on me concerning my last two posts--although, I would totally get that.

Vagina Dentata

I stumbled upon this movie, which apparently got rave reviews at Sundance, and I have a feeling it won't be playing anywhere within driving distance of the bible-belt that is the South.

I can't give an detailed synopsis of the movie without having seen it, but I can say with all certainty that this movie has within it a girl who has a nice set of sharp, pearly whites, erm, 'down there.' Yes, the vagina dentata myth which used to be told as a cautionary tale to ward us young saplings from becoming bewitched by you loose women out there! (Yes, many a mare have tried diverting me from the straight-n-narrow path...many a mare.) Sigh...

At any rate...

A review from Geoffrey Gilmore from the 2007 Sundance Film Guild stated:

Independent filmmaking is at its most exceptional when it defies categorization, and Teeth is jaw-droppingly undefinable. The story of a Christian high school girl caught up in her school's purity campaign--saving herself for marriage, as it were--is part horror film, part erotic/moral debate, and part outrageous assault on male vulnerability and fear.

Mitchell Lictenstein's extraordinary feature debut is galvanized by the vagina dentata mythology (if you don't know what that is, Teeth will forever imprint it on your psyche). The innocent teenager, Dawn---so innocent she's not even aware of her own basic bodily functions--discovers quite by accident that she is anatomically very unique, a state of being that is both victimizing and incredibly empowering. Her boyfriend is getting a little aggressive, and her bad brother is the poster child for immoral teenage conduct. Writer/director Lictenstein has created a deliciously enjoyable, yet symbolic, tale that will transform even the most resistant viewer into a rapt student of ancient taboos.

With a glowing, charged performance by Jess Weixler, Teeth is the kind of metaphorical work that keeps on satisfying, playing with our fears, fantasies, and phobias to created a potent, over-the-top fable that needs to be seen to be believed.

Sounds like some good ol' fashioned wholesome family fun to me.


Additional Info:

• Trailer on Youtube