So yeah…

We’re about 2 months out from finding out that the place my wife and I have been employed for 12 and 13 years respectively has been sold, and is closing up shop and headed to Overland Park, Kansas.

What’s changed? Well…to be brutally honest, not a whole helluva lot.

We’re still lumbering through production cycles that should be a cakewalk, only to nearly self-destruct at the end of the month…you know, like we normally do.

Despite the promises of “it’ll get better” or “we’re going to overstaff so it’s not so taxing”, our work environment remains like a headless chicken after ingesting a large chuck of South Carolina’s leading export, Methamphamines. That is to say, hectic to a near comical degree…you know, like it normally is.

We continue to spend money on stupid shit that’ll be uninstalled in 60 days, like server upgrades and keycard entry systems, and have stopped spending money on little things like food, drinks, office supplies, and other essentials…you know, like we normally do.

People are leaving earlier then they anticipated, even after being told they’d receive at least 30 days notice, but of course not receiving it. Because as we all know, in our office communication is a concept so foreign to us it’s akin to nuclear physics manuals written in ancient Egyptian…you know, like it normally is.

I don’t know that I would call my current state so much “surprised” by these developments, as much as I’m “not surprised” by these developments.

Every day I stare at customer folders containing hundreds of dollars worth of custom content that appear as though they were devoured by Bigfoot, shitted out during a fit of intestinal distress, run over by a monster truck, re-consumed by albino wolf rats, shitted back out again with great vengeance and furious anger, set on fire, and then stomped out with steel toed work boots outfitted with meat tenderizers on the soles.

If there was ever one symptom of the piss-poor state of our company, then it’d be those customer folders.

I told a coworker that those folders are exactly like the things that drove the Roman Empire into the ground almost 2,000 years ago.

Now stay with me here…I can quantify that statement, but to do so I’m going to get deep.

Just the way you like it…RAWR!

So anyway, those folders are “infrastructure”…which is to say they’re like the roads and aquaducts of ancient Roman society. When Rome was in it’s glory, great care was made to maintain those roads and aquaducts. Those were the things that made it possible for Rome to prosper as it did.

But once the Roman government and citizenry became more interested in subjugating one another, installing a new leader every 5 years, or watching those unlucky fucking Christians get chucked to the lions in the coliseum, the upkeep of those vital infrastructures fell to the wayside.

Suddenly, water didn’t flow as freely though the bathhouses, or it was corrupted by disease from a decaying animal 20 miles upstream. The roads became rutted and bumpy, causing havoc for merchants and travelers both to and from Rome.

Those failing infrastructures were the slowly tolling death-knell of the Roman Empire…and because it happened in degrees, over an extended period of time, once it was seen as a problem it was far too costly or impractical to repair.

Those customer folders are EXACTLY the same thing.

They are the pipelines that allow the water and commerce to enter our Empire. And as soon as they fell into disrepair and neglect, and no one chose to take the time to fix them, our course was set.

We were all too busy doing the work contained in the folders, or reacting to the customers that the folders represented instead of predicting their needs and anticipating our actions, that we became negligent in maintaining our vital infrastructure…just as the Roman’s had before us.

I’m totally serious about this…you want to know the health of any company, or any office in America today? All you have to do is check out their practices, and their infrastructures. If they’re falling apart or shabby then it’s just like rot inside a tomato.

It will eat it’s way through the organization if not handled promptly.

It was all there, right in front of Management the whole time…and no one cared enough to take five fucking minutes to go, “Damn…these folders are important and they’re being held together by staples, white-out, packing tape, and stickers stuck on top of other stickers. Perhaps we should address this problem. Keeping those folders in good order might help us in our jobs and therefore increase our productivity.”

But no, they had to keep basing the future of our company on the business model and practices of our competitor (which in case you don’t realize it, is an incredibly bad idea), spending $15,000 on 7 flat-screen TV’s, buying 3 leather couches, repainting the offices, installing a popcorn machine and soda fountain, painting the bathrooms 2 different colors within a 4 month period, and basically just spending money on anything and everything EXCEPT what was most important…securing new customers and allowing the rest of the employees a chance to breathe between Production cycles.

I went on an interview a couple of weeks ago, and during the process the following conversation took place:

Interviewer: Now I feel as though I must tell you that there will be some overtime required with this position should we chose to offer it to you. Will that be a problem for you?

Cinlach: I don’t think so. How much overtime are we talking here? Can I get an example of what scenarios I might be likely to experience as an employee here?

Interviewer: Well, at least once a quarter every member of my team is asked to work an extra hour a night for a period usually not over one week, but it sometimes does go into a week and a half. Would that be something that might cause you problems?

Cinlach: Well, considering I’ve been working nine hour days, and then two to three Saturday’s a month for the past 9 months non-stop, I can’t imagine as though that’d be too much of a hardship for me to bear.

Interviewer: Good grief! How much overtime have you had in the last 12 months?

Cinlach: Well, I’m not going to give out a dollar amount but let’s just say that it’s around 15 to 20% of my annual salary.

Interviewer: So then I guess just one or two weeks a quarter would seem like a vacation by comparison.

Cinlach: It would indeed sir, it would indeed.

So while this is a bit of a rambler as far as blog posts go, I guess the ultimate message is that things are, in the immortal words of David Byrne, “Same as they ever were, same as they ever were”.

By the way, my hip is fucked up again…hoorah.

The first thing my physical therapist asked when I walked into his office last week was, “Have you been under any stress recently Mr. Cinlach?”

I looked him right in the eye and laughed like a man gone insane.

“You could say that” was all I managed to get out between fits of chuckling and wiping away tears of laughter.

To the Chicken Shit Commentators…

Advance warning…this post will only make sense to about 5 people total, many apologies for the exclusivity contained herein.

Dear Chicken Shit Commentators,

I’d like to take a moment to say sincerely, and with all the feeling that my cold, blackened little heart can muster…FUCK YOU.

You’ve been whining, crying, plotting, and scheming for years and now you finally got it. A great person is no longer with us and I’m sure you’re thrilled shitless.

So let me take this opportunity to lay a little challenge out for your worthless asses…now is the time to step up and show us all what you can do!

I mean, isn’t the person who’s now gone the sole reason for your decent into obscurity? Isn’t that person responsible for you’re being “passed over” in favor of someone else?

Well they’re not in the picture anymore baby! So let’s see you step the fuck up and put your motherfucking money where your motherfucking mouth is.

No, really…I’m being totally serious. Take one step forward, and let’s see you implement all these great ideas you’ve been forced to sit on for the last 5 years.

You know, the ones that would improve productivity based on banning excessive gum snapping, audible ice chewing, and noisy cellphone vibration settings. I’m sure once you finally get your say in how things will be run the whole company will magically turn around and become a real life version of Walt Disney land.

The sun will always shine brightly, the birds will always sing sweetly, children will laugh and play, and rose petals will fall from the sky. It’ll be a paradise on earth, a place of joy everlasting…and all shall recognize your greatness, and how unjustly you were pushed aside by the evils of “them”.

So come on bitches, prove yourselves!

It’s not even remotely possible that you could be just a bunch of hot air spewing, bullshit posturing assholes…is it?

But wait…is that hesitation I sense? Are you not ready to ascend unto greatness? Haven’t you been preparing for this very day? The day that you, the worthiest of us all…finally get to stand on the mountaintop and lead the charge into battle.

I mean, this is what you’ve wanted all along right?

Seriously then, step the fuck up then and let’s see those leadership qualities you’ve been forced to contain by the injustices of “them”.

You people are so completely full of shit…the whole fucking bunch of you. If this person stays, they’re an asshole…if they complain about the situation we all find ourselves in, they’re an asshole…and if they decide they’ve had enough and move on with their lives, they’re an asshole.

I submit this for consideration, I humbly submit that YOU are the asshole here, not them.

So please, if you can somehow manage to tear yourselves away from leaving punk-ass anonymous comments on the Greenville News website then by all means let’s see you back up all that talk with some fucking action.

I dare you.

You know, unless you’re afraid of confirming what most everyone already knows about you, that you’re an incompetent, bumbling pack of jackasses who’re only capable of sowing discord while hiding behind an anonymous complaint to HR or a carefully obscured website comment.

If we’d had the misfortune of having you in charge over the past years we’d be so completely fucked right now that it’d make our current situation look like a fucking summer camp picnic.

So, I guess what I’m really trying to say here is “FUCK YOU”.

FUCK YOU and your self-righteous attitude.

FUCK YOU and all your constant scheming and plotting.

FUCK YOU and your unwarranted and undeserved self-importance.

FUCK YOU and your pack of slathering sycophant cronies.

Basically, FUCK YOU and everything you stand for.

I cannot wait to see how you spin this situation to be the fault of a person who’ll no longer be there to defend themselves. That’s a very brave way to handle the situation I might add…very pussy-esque and very true to form. I’ve got to give you props for being consistent at least.

A someone who, while you were sitting on your fat ass at home licking clean yet another tub of lard, was at the office virtually every weekend away from their family. A someone who gave every ounce of effort they had to make sure we got through the month as planned. A someone who put all they had into everything they did. A someone who put the needs of our customers and the security of their employees ahead of themselves.

A someone who’ll eventually end up at a company who deserves their talents and abilities, and a someone who’ll end up making more money in a month then you bring home in a whole fucking quarter. A someone who’ll come home from work everyday with a sense of accomplishment and pride in the job they did.

All things I doubt you’ll ever get to experience as you lumber through the years left in your “career” as a perpetual victim and a chronic difficulty.

So again, FUCK YOU.

Now before I get accused of being a hypocrite, and of doing the exact same thing as the people I’m so extraordinarily sick to death of, let me say this to my potential detractors…

Unlike those that I’m verbally ripping the throat out of, I have ZERO problem with standing toe to toe with them and unloading point blank with my expletive filled and righteous barrage, and watching those sweet, delectable tears well up in their eyes.

It’d be like a child’s Christmas wish come true…you honestly have no fucking idea.

The difference here is that I, unlike those I’m so extremely upset with, have the decency and common sense to keep that shit out of the office. We don’t need it right now and things are difficult enough as it is without my going off like Hiroshima crossed with a volcano on steroids on someone who, let’s face it, just isn’t worth all the fucking trouble it’d cause.

See, while their mode of operation is to whisper, allude, spread rumors, and basically act like immature 4th graders on a sugar high, my approach is one of quiet disdain and simmering fury. I know the appropriate outlets for my anger and indignation. Perhaps before the end I’ll get a chance to vent a little of the displeasure I feel for them, perhaps not…I’ll survive either way.

But if there is a God out there in the vast Universe around us, he’ll give me the satisfaction of at least finally seeing one or perhaps all of these chuckleheads not only shoot themselves in the foot, but blow the goddamn thing off clear up to their fucking knee.

I understand that they have families, and bills, and blah blah blah. But you know what? I don’t fucking care.

They didn’t care about the ramifications their juvenile and petty behavior might have on everyone else around them, so why exactly should I give one single moments thought about their situations and needs?

Answer? I shouldn’t, I don’t, and I’m not fucking going to.

So in summation, fuck those people and fuck everyone who looks like them too…just to be safe.

BIG FUCKING SHOCK!

As a follow up to my previous post about the complete fucking absurdity of Prince Harry being within 100 yards of any sort of real conflict in Afghanistan, I humbly present the following…

Harry returns home…

Prince Harry returns home from Afghanistan

A defiant Prince Harry has arrived back in Britain this morning after a media leak led to him being withdrawn 10 weeks into a 14-week tour of duty in Afghanistan

The 23-year-old second Lieutenant in the Household Cavalry touched down in a military plane at the Royal Air Force base at Brize Norton in central England, where he was met by his father, the Princes of Wales, and his brother, Prince William. Prince Harry returned home after a news blackout about his deployment to Afghanistan broke The plane landed at about 11.30am (GMT) and several dozen soldiers emerged before the Prince. Prince Harry is one of about 170 soldiers to arrive back in the UK from Afghanistan today. Wearing combat fatigues and carrying his kit and body armour, the Prince filed down the steps of the jet with his comrades. There was no official welcome on the tarmac and the troops made their way to the terminal building. The Prince left Afghanistan on a flight on Friday evening amid concerns he would be a target for extremists if he stayed. Meanwhile, there are reports today that Prince William - second in line to the throne - will deployed on board a warship after his Royal Navy training later this year. Before he boarded his flight, Prince Harry was moved from his base, only 500 yards from Taliban enemy lines in the volatile Helmand Province, to a secret and secure location after his presence in Afghanistan was leaked on an American web site. Taliban insurgents have threatened to step up attacks on British forces after the news broke of Prince Harry’s secret deployment in the war zone. A Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid said that his presence in Helmand Province meant that the Royal Family had joined in the “aggression against Muslims”. “Prince Harry’s presence in Afghanistan encourages our fighters to launch more attacks on British forces. We think Prince Harry has been sent to Afghanistan only to boost the sagging morale of the British forces which are in serious trouble. For us he is just part of occupation forces. Instead of killing innocent people, the Prince should try to influence the British government to withdraw troops from Afghanistan.” The decision to bring Prince Harry back to Britain for his own safety was taken by Air Chief Marshal Sir Jock Stirrup, the Chief of the Defence Staff. The Prince will go back to the Household Cavalry barracks at Windsor and keep a low profile over the coming weeks. Speaking in Afghanistan about his future, the Prince said: “I don’t want to sit around in Windsor. But I generally don’t like England that much and, you know, it’s nice to be away from all the press and the papers and all the general s***e they write.”

So yeah, what the fuck happened to all that “he’s just like any other citizen, he’s being treated like any other soldier!” bullshit?

He was removed from Afghanistan due to concerns about his safety…well what about the fucking safety of every other man and woman currently stationed in Afghanistan?

When will they be brought home “amid concerns for their well-being”?

Fucking hypocritical motherfuckers.

I told you that Prince Harry would leave Afghanistan with nothing more severe then a sunburn…and it looks like he didn’t even stay long enough to develop one of those.

And let’s talk about this “leak” in a newspaper that prompted his return…

Does anyone really think that shit might just possibly be a little fucking suspicious??

He’s all gung-ho to go, and possibly his personal motives are pure…surely every Windsor isn’t a colossal prick, his Dad’s totally cool with it, even the Queen is on board.

What a great way for the Royal Family to show that they’re in this right along with the rest of the world!

But see, they were totally willing to put their son into harms way…but we fucked it up.

That’s right, this is all OUR fault.

Fucking typical.

WARNING! BULLSHIT ALERT!!

So I come home from work, boot up the Dell Inspiron 531, launch Firefox and am greeted with what I consider to be a piece of bullshit of such size that it’s truly Biblical in proportion…

Behold, the greatest piece of complete and utter bullshit I have seen in the last 6 months.

I’m attaching a link to the complete story, but for the purposes of brevity I’m only going to highlight the most bullshitty pieces.

Click here for the complete “story”.

UK officials: Prince Harry serving on front line in Afghanistan

LONDON (AP) - Prince Harry has been deployed to fight Taliban forces in one of Afghanistan’s most lawless and barren provinces, Britain’s Ministry of Defense said Thursday.

His tour is arguably the most dangerous undertaken by any royal in recent times.

British military officials had hoped to keep the 23-year-old’s deployment secret until he had returned safely. But following a leak on the U.S. Web site the Drudge Report, video and interviews recorded with the young royal in Afghanistan’s restive Helmand Province and in Britain before his departure were released.

“I got here on Christmas Eve and going from bullet magnet to anti-bullet magnet, most of the guys were pretty bummed that I was here because nothing was happening for the first few days that I was here but things are picking up again now because it’s obviously quite boring when nothing is happening,” Harry said after he arrived in Afghanistan.

He threatened to quit the army if he was not given the chance to see combat.

But then his grandmother, Queen Elizabeth II, delivered the news.

“She told me I’m off to Afghanistan so that was the way it was supposed to be,” he said in an interview in Afghanistan, his hair coated with dust and his face in stubble. “She was very ‘pro’ me going then so I think she’s relieved that I get the chance to do what I want to do,” he said. He says he tries to phone home once a week.

Harry said his older brother, William, who also graduated from Sandhurst, is jealous of his deployment. William, the second in line for the throne, is unlikely to see such front line action.

Harry, 23, has been fighting in Helmand province, where most of the 7,800 British troops in Afghanistan are based. The province has been the scene of some the fiercest violence in Afghanistan in recent years.

Harry’s work in Afghanistan has involved calling in airstrikes on Taliban positions, as well as going out on foot patrols. He has spent part of his deployment at an operating base just 500 meters (yards) from Taliban positions, the military said.

During his deployment, Harry’s battle group has been responsible for around 30 enemy kills, a defense ministry official said, speaking on condition of anonymity in line with department policy.

“It’s bizarre,” he said. “I’m out here now, haven’t really had a shower for four days, haven’t washed my clothes for a week and everything seems completely normal. .. It’s nice just to be here with all the guys and just mucking in as one of the lads.”

“He has been fully involved in operations and has run the same risks as everyone else in his battle group,” Dannatt said.

Prime Minister Gordon Brown said “the whole of Britain will be proud of the outstanding service he is giving.”

Video extracts of Harry in Afghanistan showed Harry - his red hair caked in dust - dressed in camouflage fatigues patrolling arid and dusty terrain, calling in air support, firing a machine gun and patrolling the streets of Garmsir, the southernmost part of the province and just 500 yards (meters) from Taliban trenches.

Harry had trained as a tank commander. After the decision not to send him to Iraq, he retrained as a battlefield air controller, the job he has been filling in Afghanistan.

British troops have seen heavy fighting against a resurgent Taliban in Helmand, and 89 British troops have died there since the start of operations in 2001.

If anyone out there reading this honestly believes that Prince Harry is in any danger whatsoever then please, do me a favor…stop reading and go directly to the Fox News website.

If Prince Harry comes out of Afghanistan with anything other then a severe sunburn then it’ll be a fucking miracle.

What A Poorly Named Action Figure…

Let’s see…Power Punch Hulk with “Power Smash Attack”? Check.

Abomination with “steel” pipe weapon? Check.

Mega Clap Hulk…Check.

Wait, what?

Mega Clap Hulk? Are you fucking kidding me?

It does make sense though, the Hulk doesn’t get the regular clap…he’s gets Mega Clap!

I don’t even want to know what kind of treatment schedule they’ve got the Hulk on.

Good luck explaining that one to your 8 year old.

For my Papa.

James Alexander Williams, 79, beloved husband, father, grandfather and friend, died September 17, 2007.

He was the son of the late Albert Waverland Williams and Elizabeth Mae Mauney Williams.

Mr. Williams was a machinist with General Electric for twenty years, and an avid woodworker. He served in the National Guard during World War II, was a state constable, and a member of West Greenville Baptist Church, where he held the positions of deacon and Sunday School secretary.

Surviving are his wife of 59 years, Ruth Burgess Williams; two daughters, Ruth Anne Williams of Greenville, and Linda J. Morgan of Atlanta, Ga.; six grandchildren, Andrew Kilpatrick, Brian Kilpatrick, Crystal Young, David Young, James Kilpatrick, Rick Young; and five great-grandchildren.

He was predeceased by one sister and two brothers.

Memorial Service and visitation will be held Thursday, September 20, 2007, at 2 p.m. at West Greenville Baptist Church.

Memorials may be made in his name to West Greenville Baptist Church, 551 Perry Avenue, Greenville, SC 29611.

Condolences may be sent to the family by visiting www.thomasmcafee.com.

Cinlach is sensitive…

Sappy Chick and I were riding in to work together one morning last week when she said the following :

Sappy Chick : You know I dreamed last night that you and I had a baby.

My reply? Well it went something like this :

Cinlach : Was it good and tender like I like it?

The rest of the ride in was filled with stoney silence.

Geez…was it something I said?

Cinlach tells FOX to go fuck themselves…

Tonight on FOX the first of the final two episodes of Drive is scheduled to be broadcast. When the show was first announced I made a comment to my wife that “Nathan Fillion is a brave man to jump back into bed with FOX after the way he and Joss Whedon got fucked over with Firefly“.

Nevertheless, when the pilot for Drive finally premiered, trumpeted by the kind of marketing buzz that would’ve elevated Firefly to the forefront of American sci-fi and secured it’s place on-air for years, I watched and enjoyed the holy fucking hell out of it.

All the reviews that came pouring in were mostly all positive. But the ratings were low, which from what I’ve read is normal for a new show. All Drive really needed was time to build a presence and if FOX can stick vapid shit like Are You Smarter Then a Fifth Grader? on then surely they can allow Drive the time it needed to solidify it’s audience.

The next week the second episode airs, and it’s better then the first. Then the third episode airs and again the show continues to get stronger. Reviews are now all very positive and it looks like FOX might actually be putting something on TV worth watching other then House.

After the fourth episode airs, FOX drops the hammer and cancels one of the most highly reviewed series on television at that time. Drive is dead.

Was the show given a chance? Did they even pay attention to the fact that it was simply damn good? Did they allow the show to gain a foothold either on it’s original night or try switching it to another day or timeslot?

Fuck no…they just cancelled the son of a bitch.

Once again Nathan Fillion, one of the best character actors around (I’d put him up with Bruce Campbell…seriously, he’s that fucking good) is left with precisely dick.

So when it was announced that FOX would show the final two un-aired episodes of Drive beginning tonight my wife was thrilled. Me personally…not so much.

See, here’s the thing.

Why…exactly…should I invest my time into something that will never see a payoff? Why should I give FOX advertising money for basically being stupid assholes?

Answer? I shouldn’t…fuck FOX.

See, we’re a Neilsen Ratings household. So whatever we watch affects the ratings shown to the network. So why the hell should I help them after they’ve fucked over yet another excellent show due to their gross mismanagement of their talent?

Answer? I shouldn’t…fuck FOX.

If there was a chance that the show might be saved from oblivion, then hell yes, I’d be there with extreme prejudice. But it’s not, and they’re just filling holes in the broadcast schedule and frankly, I’m not interested in wasting my time getting re-engaged into a show that has the life expectancy of a damn fruit fly.

It’s like working all year to get a date with the prom queen only to watch her walk out early on you so she can get fucked by someone else. Who the fuck needs that kind of bullshit in their lives?

“Not I.”, said The Cinlach.

So, Nine o’clock is right ahead and I’ll be goddamned if I’ll grace FOX with my presence. They can have a merry old time without me.

Fuck them…seriously. I’ve got better things to do then support such a incompetent group of idiots, much less reward them with my Neilsen rating.

Drive and Nathan Fillion don’t deserve to be treated that way, and neither do I.

Addendum : It’s now after 9 P.M. and Drive is nowhere to be seen. It seems that FOX changed their schedule at the last minute. So everyone who was tuning in breathlessly to see those final episodes just got fucked again.

Would you all like to know who didn’t get fucked by FOX tonight? That’s right bitches… me.

Suck it FOX.

Cinlach gets “Fantasticized”…

I’m a rather spontaneous individual and so at about 8:30 Sunday night I decided I wanted to go to the movies. I even managed to somehow convince my younger brother A to accompany me.

We headed out to see Fantastic Four : The Rise of the Silver Surfer at the Greenville Camelot. Once we got our tickets and made our way inside, we began waiting for the movie to start. Listening to the tunes playing over the theater’s sound system, I started my favorite activity…”people watching”. I never fail to find some poor bastard who’s made himself/herself look stupid.

Among the throng (and by “throng” I mean no more then about 8 people total) taking in the 9:45 showing on Sunday night I noticed two folks I’d like to single out and spend a little time discussing.

First there was the guy with his wife about three rows behind us, who was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. His whole fashion statement ensemble was set off by the socks he was wearing with his sandals. Chuckling quietly to myself about the socks and sandal combination, I also happened to notice he was wearing a Bluetooth wireless earpiece for the cell phone which was perched conspicuously on his belt.

Oooooohhh…a high roller amongst us common folk. How lucky we are he deigned us worthy of his presence.

But seriously…what the fuck dude. It’s 9:45 on a Sunday fucking night…you’re at a goddamn movie theatre. If you’re anticipating a call that’s so important you have to wear your stupid little ear-thingie during the movie you’re seeing then perhaps you should’ve stayed the fuck home. No matter what you do during the day or week there’s absolutely no reason to walk around with a fucking earpiece in for your phone. Unless you’re the President or a Secret Service agent take the fucking thing off and leave it at home. In fact, please just get up and leave before I snatch that fucking thing off your self-important sandal and sock wearing goofy head and jam it and your formerly attached ear up your ass with extreme prejudice.

Give me a fucking break dude. No matter what your Mommy told you when you were little you’re not that damned important. The world will continue to rotate even without you having access to your fucking cellphone.

Second, I observed two guys coming in together. One was a very burly looking biker guy…stereotypically biker in fact. He had a long scraggly, unkempt beard, a tightly knotted pony tail, a denim shirt turned into a sleeveless wife beater, a harley hat, numerous splotchy looking tattoos on his arms and a pair of sunglasses on his face.

Did I mention the fucking movie was at 9:45? That’s PM folks, not AM. That distinction didn’t stop homeboy from totally rocking the Corey Hart “Sunglasses at Night” look. The guy with him was more “normally” dressed in a shirt and jeans.

They sat about 10 rows in front of us, carefully leaving a seat between them. I rolled my eyes…god forbid they should sit next to one another or else we all might think they were gay or something.

I imagined the exchange going something like this :

Stereotypical Biker Dude’s Friend : What about here? Is this ok Buzzsaw?

Buzzsaw : Yeah Chester, we should be able to see the righteous fire of destruction just fine from here.

Chester : Oh goodie! I can’t wait to see Galactus eat the planet! I’ll just sit right here…

Buzzsaw : Whoa man! What the FUCK do you think you are you doing?

Chester : Sitting down next to you…why, what’s wrong?

Buzzsaw : Give me some room man! Don’t be sitting all up on me like that…people will think were gay or something.

Chester : But we are…aren’t we?

Buzzsaw : Yeah, but that’s not the point. I’m not ready to be ostracized because I’m “different”.

Chester : You’re wearing sunglasses, a denim wifebeater, and covered in KKK tatoos. How much more “different” could you be?

Buzzsaw : Just shut up and pass me some popcorn. Keep this up and you won’t get no sweet, sweet lovin’ tonight.

While this humorous exchange was running through my head, I made a discovery. The movie soundsystem was playing 80’s new wave music.It was at this moment I remembered the music playing over the speakers.

This just keeps getting better…I was watching a Biker have to sit through Big Country’s “In a Big Country”, The Thompson Twins “Hold Me Now”, The Pet Shop Boys “West End Girls”, and Oingo Boingo’s “Weird Science”. I was somewhat certain that this was not his music of choice.

Buzzsaw : What the fuck kinda pansy-ass music is this?

Chester : I’m not sure, but it makes me want to shake my groove thang!

Buzzsaw : … [Glaring intensely at Chester with unrestrained rage.]

Chester : What? It’s kind of catchy. Doesn’t that make you want to get up and boogie?

Buzzsaw : Chester I swear on Hitler’s name, if you so much as shift in your seat rhythmically I’ll break your goddamn nose.

Chester : Fine, be that way…you big queen. You’re just mad because all you can do is the butterchurn.

Thankfully at this point the lights came down and the trailers started.The movie itself wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be…I actually enjoyed it. The only problem I had with the whole flick was Doctor Doom. He spent 90% of his time on screen out of costume. Which for those of you not in the know is bad. Doom never takes his mask off…ever. So to see him standing in front of the Fantastic Four talking shit to the Thing without his armor was a little annoying.

The film does a good job of conveying the constant poking and prodding between Thing and Human Torch. The Silver Surfer was awesome, and even though Galactus in comic form wasn’t in the movie you got the feeling that the entity coming to destroy Earth was a construct of Galactus and not necessarily the big purple G himself.

There were a couple of cool cameos, including Frankie Raye who in the comics becomes Nova and is also a Herald of Galactus like the Surfer.

All things considered I enjoyed my movie trip Sunday night, even though I fully expected it to suck…and I got to see a biker be subjected to Murray Head’s “One Night in Bangkok”.

That alone was worth the price of admission.

The Myrtle Beach Hotel Story…

I’m always being told by my wife that I need to write down some of my more humorous exploits…you know, kooky shit that would only (seemingly) happen to me. Today I’m going to be recounting The Myrtle Beach Hotel Story.

During my highschool days, I hung out with a crew of people from Connestee, SC. My cousin lived near Donaldson Center which was in turn near Connestee.

One summer in the olden days of the late 80’s, a small pack of us, meaning only about 5 or 6 all total, decided to go to the beach for a long weekend. So we gathered up and headed down to the coast. I was also interested in going because a girl, let’s call her Michelle, I’d been courting for a couple of months was headed down as well and she suggested I should come down so we could spend “some time” together. That’s right boys and girls…Cinlach could possible be getting laid during this trip.

Once we got to the beach, I met up with Michelle and we organized a rendezvous for later that evening. She warned me not to stand her up or get cold feet because she was going to make the trip well worth my while. It’s official…I am SO getting laid.

During the day, while I’m waiting anxiously for that evening, I helped my friends get together the necessary ingredients for making a concoction I’d never heard of before. It was called “PJ” and was otherwise known as “Purple Jesus”. It was so named because after drinking a great deal of it you were liable to see anything, up to but not limited to, a Purple Jesus.

Since I had plans later that evening I passed on the PJ and instead sipped on a couple of beers. I was, however, famished from the fact that between all our running around during the day, and my meeting up with Michelle, I had neglected to eat anything. So after the PJ had “settled” for a couple of hours, I finally couldn’t ignore my rumbling stomach any longer and started eating some of the floating fruit. I wasn’t concerned about this decision because after all, I wasn’t drinking the PJ.

This proved to be seriously flawed logic.

The more of the fruit I ate, the fuzzier things got until finally I awoke in a very unfamiliar location and sicker then I’d been in a long time.

Let me set things up a little more and give you some back story as to my reaction to alcohol. Once I reach a certain point, I black out, and when that happens I’m liable to do anything. There are pictures of me in various states of inebriation, confusion, and embarassment scattered throughout the greater southeast. It’s one of the reasons I don’t drink to excess anymore. The other reason is contained below and will soon be revealed.

When I regained consciousness, the first thing I discovered was that I was cold…freezing in fact. I was lying on a slab cement floor dressed only in a too large bright orange jumpsuit and flip flops. I glanced around, and realized that I was in fucking jail.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Had I killed a man? Raped a goat? Stolen a car? What about killed a man, raped his goat, and then stolen his car? I had no idea how I got there, what I’d done, how long I’d been there…nothing. I was not happy.

This was the point I began to panic. I called out for a guard and finally one arrived. It was then that I discovered that I’d been arrested for Public Intoxication. Which I of course had absolutely no memory of at all.

It seems that eating the fruit in the PJ was worse then actually drinking that vile shit. See as it turns out, the fruit absorbs all the alcohol and if you really want to get shitfaced out of your mind then all you have to do is eat the fruit. I decided that this would’ve been a handy piece of information to possess several hours prior to my arrest.

As for the details of my arrest, it was revealed that after I got good and unintentionally snockered, a group of us all decided to head out to the beach. As we were walking down the main street in Myrtle Beach, our group began flirting with a group of girls located on the balcony of a nearby hotel. Pleasantries were exchanged and they invited us up, we of course accepted.

Now, here’s where stupidity comes into play. For some reason, I decided that the quickest way up would be to climb the fucking hotel and not go inside and take the stairs/elevator. As it turned out, this was frowned upon by the local authorities and I ended up in the drunk tank. From what I was to learn later, I was one floor from achieving my goal when I was nabbed by the cops.

Now you see why I don’t drink anymore.

The guard asked if I was ready for my phonecall, which I very much was. I dialed the hotel room and got no answer…shit.

This was the point where my panic, and the PJ, started to assault my body with pain and nausea. I spent the next few hours vomiting, praying for death, napping, and every couple of hours trying the hotel with no luck.

As the day progressed into evening I was getting to the point where I was going to have to call my parents. This was less then appealing.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice and one of my friends walked up to the cell. It was then that the obscenities started :

Me : Where the fuck have you been? Why the fuck did you leave me? What the fuck happened? Why the fuck didn’t you stop me? When the fuck am I getting out of here?

Him : Calm down, your bail is $300. We’re all pooling the money together to get you out.

Me : Why the fuck did you leave me in here so long? You all knew what happened to me! You knew I was in fucking jail!

Him : See, here’s what happened. You weren’t the only one drunk last night. Everyone was pretty torn up. You got popped and everyone headed back to the hotel. Along the way they got distracted and by the time they got back to the hotel they were all about to crash. I got up and couldn’t remember where you were, I didn’t go with you guys. I thought you were with that girl you were meeting, and it wasn’t until I saw her on the beach that I discovered you’d stood her up.

Me : Holy fuck…I did stand her up. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!! But it wasn’t my fault! I got fucking arrested for supposedly climbing a hotel!

Him : Well she’s still pissed about it just the same and there’s no doubt man, you totally climbed that hotel. Anyway, once I knew you weren’t with her I headed back to our hotel and found out what’d happened…and here I am.

Me : Why the fuck didn’t those assholes answer the phone?

Him : They were all drunk and passed out. Would you have answered if you were hung over? No one knew who was calling.

Me : Look, I am entirely too hung over to yell at anyone right now. So just please get me the fuck out of here before I die.

And so my release was secured, my trip ruined, my chances with the girl destroyed (she never forgave me and scolded me for such a ridiculous excuse once I finally caught up with her back in town), and my head pounded like Zeus’s jackhammer for three days.

I never drank PJ again, and to this day I still can’t eat fruit.