Three Ladies in a Sauna
THREE WOMEN, TWO YOUNGER, AND ONE
SENIOR CITIZEN, WERE SITTING
NAKED IN A SAUNA. SUDDENLY THERE WAS A BEEPING
SOUND. THE YOUNG
WOMAN PRESSED HER FOREARM AND THE BEEP STOPPED. THE OTHERS
LOOKED
AT HER QUESTIONINGLY. 'THAT WAS MY PAGER,' SHE SAID. I HAVE A MICROCHIP
UNDER THE SKIN OF MY ARM.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, A PHONE RANG. THE SECOND YOUNG
WOMAN LIFTED HER PALM TO HER EAR. WHEN SHE FINISHED, SHE
EXPLAINED, 'THAT WAS MY MOBILE
PHONE. I HAVE A MICROCHIP IN MY HAND.'
THE OLDER
WOMAN FELT VERY LOW -TECH. NOT TO BE OUT DONE, SHE DECIDED
SHE HAD TO DO
SOMETHING JUST AS IMPRESSIVE. SHE STEPPED OUT OF THE SAUNA
AND WENT TO THE
BATHROOM. SHE RETURNED WITH A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER HANGING FROM HER REAR
END.
THE OTHERS RAISED THEIR EYEBROWS AND STARED AT HER. THE OLDER WOMAN FINALLY SAID.... ......WELL, WILL YOU
LOOK AT THAT..... I' M
GETTING A FAX!!
This is the storm that hit about 2 hours or so after a tornado. I suppose the storm hit prior to that which would be the cause of said tornado, but who cares. The point is there's rain, epic wind and lightning.
I strapped my Flip Mino HD onto my steering wheel via the Flip action mount and drove to Coffee Slingers. The video below is the resulting footage. I only added music, titles and an edge mask.
Taken was written by Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen and directed by Pierre Morel. It stars Liam Neeson, Maggie Grace (Remember the hot yet annoying blond chick from the first season of Lost?) The always gorgeous Famke Janssen and some other French dudes that no one really knows. It scored a 55% on Rotten Tomatoes T-Meter, a 40% from Top Critics and a 91% from the mindless RT Community.
First let me start off by saying that I thought this movie sucked. I saw it about 3 or 4 weeks before it hit theaters in the U.S. I was immediately glad that I didn't stand in line and waste $10 on it. I rated it 20% on Rotten Tomoatoes.
This movie was a total rip off of The Bourne Identity as well as many other kill-baddies-all-over-Europe-because-I'm-an-ex-spy movie. It takes every cliché from that genre and capitalizes on it. In fact, its almost entirely written off clichés. On top of the awful clichés, it seemed that everyone was told as soon as they walked on set, "Forget what you know about good acting. It will not exist in this film. Seriously, act like this is your 5th grade Christmas play." Even Liam, who is awesome, acted as if he was only there because he owed someone a favor. A big one.
All in all, the story was weak, forced and overplayed. The dialogue was laughable, the acting was pathetic and the daughter ran wierd. I seriously thought something was wrong with her. Other than than dudes getting their faces punched in, I was genuinely board.
Here's a quick recap:
Warning: There be spoilers ahead (but honestly, there's not much left to spoil)
"I'm so emo, 'cause I was a typical Spy/Father and didn't spend enough time with my family because I was to busy saving America and my wife left me, even though she knew better. Oh well, I quit all that 5 years too late so I can be poor and live close by my daughter and ex-wife who married a typical rich guy."
"Its my daughters birthday, I'll spend all of $15.00 dollars on a karaoke machine that was made for an eight year old even though she's seventeen."
"Oh goody, she likes it, because she has this fantasy that she's going to be a pop star still someday. I'm glad my whiny ex-wife was able to see that... ah crap, the super-rich step-dad bought her a horse and she now could care less about my half-hearted gift."
"Hmm, I've been offered a body guard job protecting some high class pop-star, I should ask her if she'll see my daughter.
"Oh noes, some guy was classically waiting to stab the pop-star! Good thing I'm so awesome! I'll hospitalize this idiot and rescue the star. Me FTW."
"My daughter wants to go to France? No ways, I know how things roll there. I have premonition. Well... since she's thrown such a spoiled fit, I'll let her, so long as she takes my super secret spy phone"
"Crap, my premonition was right, hopefully the bad guy will pick up the phone so I can say some awesome, bone-chilling phrase to him that will be used on posters and later on in the movie."
"Time to meet up with a guy that I'm pretty sure will back-stab me because he's greedy and I'm an idiot."
*Beat-downs, death and violence ensue*
"I've killed everyone with no repercussions and found my daughter, I'm the man again! I'll just casually fly back with her to the States earning the respect of my ex and her new husband."
"To top it all off, since shes not the least bit traumatized about being held captive by sex-traffickers, I'll take her to the pop-star that I saved earlier so she can say some formulated cliche line"
Teh End!
Now, perhaps this wasn't the best written review, and perhaps you think I'm a moron because you really liked it. Well, good thing I don't care. This is my opinion and you are more than welcome to be wrong with yours.
Everyone watched the Superbowl. If you have any questions read the first poem "Fight for love" and that should explain this.
I used to believe that love could conquer all.
But that went away once I saw the Cardinals fall
The Cardinals looked like they were in good shape right
before half time.
But Harrison’s interception put the Steelers up by a dime.
When the Cardinals
were down by 13 people’s dreams hit the floor.
I told them not to worry, that love was worth fighting for.
Once they made their comeback like I said they would do.
I sent them a text telling them that “I told you!”
After they scored the safety it was the Cardinals time to
thrive.
And Kurt Warner delivered what I thought was the game winning drive.
But shortly after I felt broken and battered.
When in just two minutes my hopes were shattered.
Then what happened next was worse than listening to a baby’s
screams.
I felt utterly defeated, they had destroyed my dreams.
Love is dead, it died in the air.
With 35 seconds remaining and a catch ruled fair.
I thought there was still hope, but the refs wouldn’t let
the game go on.
The paramedics had already called it, “Love is going, going… Gone.”
I'm home with a migraine that feels like a midget is repeatedly smashing me in the face with a hammer, while his other midget cronies are laughing at me and singing the Cardigan's "Lovefool" in a weird mockery sort of Castrati way. Crazy, I know. I'm sure you've felt this before too [although, variance on the song is likely because we all have different tastes in music].
Lemme tell you of a little beverage I enjoyed on Monday. See if your local shop can whip it up for ya. I'm sure they could. It only requires ingredients typically found already in a coffee shop. Those ingredients are:
- Half and Half Cream
- Espresso
- Honey
Don't jump ahead.
We were visited by some friends this weekend. In typical "WANG" fashion, we took them to our favorite spots, some of which other Redunkers have been. There was one place we took them that was virginal to anyone visiting [of which we know]. A little place called "Hi Hat Coffee." It's built into an old...and I mean OLD...gas station from the 40s. They roast their own beans, and do a good job of it too. The hitch is that it's small. Really small. Small enough to where I was afraid I might have to go to the bathroom before entering...after all, I had just eaten. Seriously, there's one table in the place, with 3 chairs. [the pic to the right was taken around Christmastime]
There is a drink, called the "Bam Bam." It's 2 shots of espresso, a small drizzle of honey, then topped with steamed half & half. Essentially, it's a Caffe Breve with honey. There's something magical about the marriage of honey and espresso. It gets me tingly inside, kinda like when you're about to go over a hill on a roller coaster. Or kinda like when you know your next BM is going to be a doozy. You get me.
If you can, specify that they add the honey after the espresso and before the cream. Also, you can get it without the cream if you're watching your waistline. Or you can not give a crap, and do what I do. I ordered mine with a total of 4 shots, because I lack hair on my chest. You figure it out. [be cautious ordering this at places that have communist influences...you know what I'm talking about.]
Bottom line, I guess, is to go to your local flavor, and have them construct it for you. It's not hard. And don't refer to it as the "bam bam" as they may look at you with confusion [or hate, if you went to a communist cafe...you know what I'm talking about].
I need to get off this thing. My eyes feel like weak grapes being squished between someone's dirty Chuck Taylor and cold pavement.
-Andy
[editor's notes: It's late, I'm tired, and suffering with migraine, hence the midget and poop references. Sorry.
"WANG" is my nickname for myself. I use it in the following contexts:
- Self admiration: "Wang is awesome."
- Self deprecatoin: "Dang it, Wang!"
This is a post my brother wrote. He's in the air force living in Seoul, Korea and has many hilarious stories to share. This is an over exaggerated recap of his morning a few days ago.
"My mind wanders through subconsciousness like a snowflake wanders the sky on a calm evening. The clock ticks to 5:20 am and suddenly my ears are assaulted by the deafening electronic beeping. Still ensconced by the grasp of sleep, my arm is slow to strike the snooze button.
Eight fleeting minuets pass and once more I am at the mercy of the simple device on my nightstand. This time I manage to shake the semi hypnotic trance and lash out in full force, smashing my defenseless clock into the hard cement wall of my dorm. A litany of curses ensues its ruction as I work up enough gall to toss back my warm and inviting blankets and bare the savage cold of the room outside of my bed. My ceiling fan watches me from above, like a bird of prey encircling its next victim. Its chill wind is an unwanted guest in my room this morning so I choke out its life with the simple flick of a switch.
I go about my daily routine of getting dressed in my finely crafted ABU light armor set and brushing my teeth. The newly formed plaque and morning breath cry out in agony as I unleash an onslaught of minty fresh fluoride, crushing them between the mighty bristles of my brush. Once all my gear has been accounted for I leave the relative safety of my room and traverse down the hall way, stopping only momentarily to summon a magical box than transports me 80 feet down to the surface below. I make my way through a few more dim corridors and finally reach the last door of the structure.
Outside is a bitter, snow swept wasteland. The wind howling through narrow alleys, taxis racing down the ice ravaged road, the moon still looms overheard, casting a gloomy light over the unwelcoming world before me. But I cannot afford to be intimidated by such things. Who else would vacuum and clean if I were not to show for work? Thus is my duty. My calling. And with that I make the first step of many toward my shop."
-Fin.
Why I decided on the Super Bowl is another side story in it's self, and a story you have to hear to fully appreciate the poem.
About 3 weeks ago I was hanging out at my friend Travis's with a couple other people. We enjoyed some heated games of battle Tetris but as the night went on every one just started hanging out and I continued my quest for Tetris domination on one-player marathon style. Anyway after a while people got to talking about how the Cardinals had just beaten the Panthers and how they could not believe it. Then Tim spoke up about how his wife always picks the team that she thinks is going to win based on who would win in a real fight. In this case it was a Panther vs a Cardinal, so the obvious choice would be the Panther. This started a surprisinly serious debate about who would win in a fight and every one agreed on the Panther. They said that there is no way a Cardinal could beat a Panther. At that point I was still playing tetris (and in the freaking zone I might add) and i spoke up and said
"I just have one question."
They all stopped to listen and I asked.
"What if the Cardinal was fighting for love?"
And I returned to my tetris game. The room eploded with laughter and it has been an on going joke ever since.
With that said, my friend Travis is having a Super Bowl party this sunday which unfortunatley I will be unable to attend. But to make up for my absince I decided to write this poem in hopes that he would read it to everyone before game time.
So with out further adu, here it is.
It’s the Cardinals vs. the Steelers, the biggest game of the
year.
If you’re curious about who is going to win pay attention and listen hear.
Betting on the
Steelers may be considered easy money.
But listen to my story; I’m not trying to be funny.
Let’s take a closer look at the Cardinal’s playoff run.
Let’s analyze each game and see exactly what they’ve done.
In a real fight a Falcon would beat a Cardinal any day.
But with Kurt Warner at QB they somehow found a way.
The Panthers were the next opponent that they had to fight.
and the Cardinals defeated them with more than power and might.
Then it was the Eagles, an obvious safe bet.
But the Cardinals were victorious, there’s something people just don’t get.
People are bamboozled by the Cardinals success.
In the regular season they were a joke and a mess.
So how do they do it? Is what people want to know.
How does the team get better and continue to grow?
On Sunday the Cardinals will achieve their ultimate goal.
when they become victorious at the Super Bowl.
The reporters will surround Kurt Warner and ask him one question.
Tell us how you did it, and anything else you have to mention.
And with the Lambardi trophy in his hands and the sky up
above.
He will look directly into the camera and say “we were fighting for love!”
I signed into Facebook tonight to find my inbox flooded with tags of peoples notes. Yes for some reason a truckload of people couldn't think of that final person to add to their spam list and hated me enough to throw me on their list.
OK, maybe they didn't hate me, but they decided to tag me in a note that seems to be going around. Its basically 25 things about yourself. Its a flash back to 2005 MySpace where you write down 25 things about yourself "that nobody knows" and send it to 25 people who were apart of said line or that you want to write and pass on. Its another refresh of the ever annoying chain letter.
Being how I can't let a thing like this go on without mocking it relentlessly and beating it bloody, I decided to write a rebuttal in the sekret form of the chain letter itself. I sent it out to a few people, knowing they would be offended by it, but if they can't learn to laugh at something like this, then they will live a sad life.
Here it is:
Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails
1) What is a note?
2) Why does anyone care about this note?
3) What is the reason for these notes?
4) Why do people keep irrelevantly tagging me in their notes?
5) Is this the new "poke"?
6) Why does everyone have a list of random things about themselves that don't matter in their notes?
7) Is there a point to having only 25 lines in the note?
8) Is this a new concept of a chain letter?
9) Is this a lighter version of the stupid surveys that float aimlessly on MySpace?
10) Did Facebook just start to suck again?
11) Why do people think this is fun?
12) Is there more to life than what people know about me on Facebook?
13) Do I share these "Things about myself that nobody knows" so that hopefully people will pay attention to me and read them and send me a comment back because I'm lonely and bored and want someone to like for my uniqueness and strike up a random conversation about hair dye or tooth paste or the fact that we both enjoy watching Gossip Girls but only on DVD so we can watch it all at once instead of show by show because its so good oh by the way what's up with Chuck I know his dad died and everything by why so serious chuck i love the Dark Knight Heath Ledger XOXOXOX
14) Is it really necessary to tag 25 people specifically? Will time and space implode? Will you die where you sit? Will your neighbors dog die where it sits? Will the Flying Dutchman haunt you and your family for 7 generations? Is there a man behind the curtain? Will you have to find Jack, Kate, Sayid, Hurley and Sun and go back to the Island?
15) Do you hate me so much that you would clutter my inbox with 15 tags of myself on notes that don't relate to me?
16) Is there a reason that every note is named some awkward, random phrase that makes people want to slit their own wrists just trying to comprehend its meaning?
17) Are you really that "Out of the Box" and crazy that you believe you will blow people away by starting at 25 and counting backwards to 1?
18) Did you know they found water on Mars? Did you know that this note is still more irrelevant?
19) Is it really so ironic to write that you secretly *insert non-secret fact here* by placing it in a public note?
20) Are you really the only person that relates their life to a movie when you know at least 500 other people that do the same?
21) Do you really love me/like me and that's why you tagged me or are you just tagging people randomly because you can't think of 25 people that you actually love/like?
22) Do you hate me yet for mocking these notes so relentlessly?
23) Is it really necessary to write that embarrassing fact about yourself that "OMG I can't believe I'm saying this but..." because you actually like the attention and aren't that embarrassed by it?
24) Is it really a wonder that I could make fun of notes for this long?
25) Are you offended and hurt now that I just made fun of the chain note for 25 straight lines? Don't be. Read on.
This is a joke and nothing more. I just signed into Facebook and had a massive list of notifications from people that posted "25 things" in notes with me tagged in them. There are a great many things within Facebook that I do not like nor participate in. I don't accept requests to join random groups to save Russian White Seals nor do I accept kidnap requests (honestly, who would accept an invitation to be kidnapped?) nor do I add every ridiculous app and poke and tag there is. I use it for what I like, so don't be bothered or angry if I don't accept your request, or for this matter, return your chain letter. All you need to know about me is already written on my profile page or can be found out by having a REAL conversation with me.
Now, go along and laugh it all off, because it really is quite hilarious (especially #13)
If you don't know who Dwight Howard is I would recommend watching this years NBA dunk competition. He is an incredible athlete and a good Christian. Hopefully he tries some of these sweet dunks.
