Not exactly the Pepsi challenge.

--I don't know about you, but I am this close to kicking a midget in the groin. I am so tired of hearing millionaire cry-baby athletes whining about the fact that they only make SEVEN MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR!!! I know a million bucks ain't what it used to be, but I think I could scrape by. Sure, I'd have to learn to manage my money better, but I think with a little determination and savvy financial planning I could make ends meet.

And I am not just talking about Terrell Owens. He is neither the first, nor will he be the last, player to complain about their financial woes. But I think that they need to remember that this is a game. They don't save lives. They don't protect people or keep them safe. No. A police officer makes 25 grand a year, and we just can't find a way to pay them more or give them the equipment they need to effectively do their jobs.

Well Mr. Tagliabue, listen up. Here's a plan that's a win-win for everyone. The season lasts, what, like 6 months? The other six months of the year these athletes are required to suit up for their local police or fire department, and truly earn their keep. While they would still be WAY overpaid, at least they will be giving something positive back to the community.

I do believe that athletes are paid for their ability to perform at the highest level in their particular field, but so are doctors, teachers and police officers. It's just too bad society places a higher value on men playing a game then on men and women who take on thankless, dangerous jobs with very little compensation in comparison. But who ever said life was fair?

Of course I know my plan would fail because there are more criminals IN THE LOCKER ROOM than on the streets. But at least it would be a start. As Terrell Owens would say "that's the stint of the sitchation." Oww, my groin.

--I am still completely flabbergasted by the fact that people will pay for ICE and WATER. I know there are quite a few things that are not easily produced nor readily available, which would justify paying for them. Ice and water are not in fact part of this group.

Last time I checked, I had water coming out of at least twelve different locations in my house. And then I stick it in the freezer, and I get ice. I am torn between the guilt of not telling others of this fantastic discovery, and the potential profit I could experience because I am obviously sitting on a gold mine. Perhaps I should contact the government. Maybe they would be interested in this "water-freezing" technology I stumbled into. I'll let you know how it turns out.

--I would now like to take a few moments to tell you about a man named Jeff Kay, and how he helped inspire me to create this pathetic attempt at humor, and to overcome baldness. Well, I'm still bald, but he inspired me nonetheless.

He is the author of a little website called 'The West Virginia Surf Report'. While some of my postings are fashioned after his (no, not plagiarized assholes), the fucked up stuff I talk about is all mine. (They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. )

I wanted to personally thank him for doing what he does, because he kicks ass at it and he gave me the confidence and motivation I needed to give this blogging thing a try. Even though he refuses to call his a blog, goddamit.

Maybe one day I will have the balls to send him the address to my site so he can tell me what he thinks. But not today.

--Speaking of fucked up things in my head (shut up!!!), I had a really weird dream the other night (stop it. the voices. THE VOICES!!).

I dreamt that I was working at a cheese factory. Is that right, cheese factory? Is it called something else? Anyway, I was making cheese. Not that plastic wrapped cheese-like processed food stuff, but wheels of cheese. And my boss was John Travolta! He was very cool and was very knowledgeable about the cheese making process.

John (he said I could call him John) was telling me about what it was like being a pilot and having your own jet. In the middle of this rather pleasant exchange, Vice President Dick Cheney walked in and said that John was under arrest. Turns out he was teaching Al Qaeda operatives how to fly and he was wanted as a matter of national security. I never have trusted that John Travolta bastard.

Weird, huh?? In the immortal words of George Costanza: "Do you ever get down on your knees and thank God you know me and have access to my dementia?"

--Last, but certainly not least, here are a couple of movie reviews that you may (or may not) find helpful:

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me- What in the hell was the maker of this film smoking. You think my dream was weird, you ain't seen nothing yet. The only way I could describe this movie would be "fucking strange", and that would only begin to scratch the surface. It's about a high school homecoming queen, played by Sheryl Lee, and the mystery surrounding her ultimate demise. It stars Kyle McLachlan, Moira Kelly, the aforementioned Ms. Lee, and this midget that freaks me the fuck out. I don't even know if I can recommend this movie or not. If you happen to see, I take no responsibility. My brain still hurts thinking about it. (Sorry if I offended any little people. One of my best friends is a midget.)

The Daytrippers- A fun little film starring Hope Davis, Stanley Tucci, Parker Posey and Liev Schreiber. Hope Davis is a happily married suburbanite who starts to find clues that lead her to think that her husband, played by Tucci, may be having an affair. Not wanting to believe that such a horrible thing could be true, she enlists the help of her mother, father, sister (Posey) and the sister's boyfriend (Schreiber) to drive her into the city and prove that her suspicions are unfounded. Really well written and acted, this movie has a little twist that pays off in the end.

And finally, Serial Mom. Starring Kathleen Turner, Sam Waterston, Matthew Lillard and Ricki Lake (yes, that Ricki Lake). Turner does a wonderful job playing your average all-American mother a la June Cleaver, but with a bit of a bad habit. You see, she likes to kill those who cross her or her family. It's like Martha Stewart meets Ted Bundy. How could you possibly go wrong!! This movie does prove one thing : John Waters is one of the craziest people to ever roam this earth. I salute you John Waters. God bless you.


Have a great day. I suddenly have a powerful hankerin' for a big ole wedge of cheese. Hmmmm.......Mole, out.