Google

So I google imaged myself, and the picture of the people dancing was the first one that came up.

If you only knew...

AND THEN

I googled my best friend Van

and the portrait above was the first picture that jumped on the screen, followed by 5 more pages of the Nazi-mobile also pictured above.

Quote of the Day

"Wrinkles only go where the smiles have been."
- Jimmy Buffett

Pic above is of a sunset Trixie and I enjoyed in Antigua.

A St. Louis Treasure

Seriously, to be Mike Shannon for a day...

From Deb Peterson's Sunday Column:

OPEN MOUTH, INSERT FOOT: Over the weekend, Rep. Russ Carnahan, D-St. Louis, popped up to the booth in Washington where the long-time voice of the Cardinals, Mike Shannon, was broadcasting the Cardinals game against the Nationals. At one point Shannon asked Carnahan how his dad was doing. Unfortunately, former Gov. Mel Carnahan, his son Randy, and a longtime aide, Chris Sifford, died in a tragic plane crash in 2000. The reaction from Carnahan and others in the press area? Silence.

Remember Faces of Death?

Lifting the mask from 'Faces of Death'


Halloween is the right time for director John Schwartz to haunt audiences with tales of his scary film saga. The good news about the horrifying scenes it offers: They aren't entirely as real as the advertising claims.

By MICHAEL PATRICK WELCH

© St. Petersburg Times, published October 26, 2000

Most adolescent slumber parties in the '80s began or ended with a video screening of the cult classic, pseudo-snuff flick Faces of Death. After the movie, no slumber came, only nightmares and debate.

"Did those people really beat that monkey to death and eat its brains?"

"How did they get that footage of the flesh-eating cult?"

"Is that electric chair execution real?"

Is any of Faces of Death real? What does the man who made it say?

"I'll never forget: All of a sudden on the news one night they're talking about Faces of Death!" says John Schwartz, who directed and wrote the movie and its sequels I through IV (there are now eight Faces of Death movies). The flick was intended as a Japanese-only release in 1979, but found its way to the United States, and the national news, a couple of years later.

"I almost fell out of my chair," says Schwartz in a phone interview. "Dan Rather on CBS was talking about these "incredibly horrible videos.' 'Cause everybody thought they were real!"

If anybody thinks Faces of Death is footage of actual deaths, it's because it says so on the video's box, right under the cheesy drawing of the hooded skull with the forked tongue and fangs. Schwartz and company did film real footage of slaughterhouses and autopsy rooms, but any other "real" deaths came from file footage.

"We traveled to all these different film libraries to see what we could find about death and disaster," says Schwartz. "I found this footage of this woman jumping off a building, and it was just incredible footage. But the part of the footage we didn't have was the aftermath. So we (filmed) inserts into the actual footage to match it."

Then how did Schwartz and company acquire the more bizarre footage? "I was the leader of the flesh-eating cult," Schwart admits. "I had scenes in each of these movies. . . . I'm the crazy, drugged-out killer. . . . I play this freaky rapist in the courtroom scene, and they show the rape on video, and it just so happens that the girl (in the rape scene) was this girl I was dating at the time."

You mean, the famous electric chair scene was fake? But the guy was foaming at the mouth and everything!

"We built a cell in a friend's loft, and we lined the guy's mouth with toothpaste," says Schwartz, laughing. "My research material for that: I happened to pick up a Hustler magazine and there was this great article about electrocution that really detailed how a person is executed. . . . And that's what I used as my basis."

Schwartz is listed in Faces of Death credits as "Alan Black." "My middle name is Alan, and schwarz means black in German."

He used the fake name to prevent bias at his other jobs, writing for TV shows such as Night Rider, Street Hawk and The Fall Guy as well as original movies for HBO and Showtime. But to date, the original Faces of Death has grossed over $30-million. It cost $450,000 to make. These days, Schwartz proudly includes Faces of Death on his resume when cashing in on the "reality" entertainment trend which he helped pioneer.

He's currently working for ABC's Totally Out of Control Videos series. "I created Totally Out of Control Love and Totally Out of Control Vacation . . . real stories of people who got married jumping off cliffs and underwater and, you know, weird stuff."

But once a year, at Halloween, Schwartz speaks at college campuses about his adventures creating Faces of Death.

"It can't be denied," he says. "It's my legacy at this point."

Huh?

So I'm watching Fox News this morning, and they're running a story on the oil crisis that will result from the Hurricane.

The shot is a live stand up, and the reporter advises us Americans that 30 percent of the nation's oil supply is produced by Gulf Coast refineries.

As he's saying this, creeping along the bottom of the screen is a statistic that the Gulf Coast produces 20 percent of the nation's oil supply

AND

As we cut away from the live shot, a graphic appears on the screen that shows that the Gulf Coast produces between 25 and 30 percent of the nation's oil supply.

I understand that the Hurricane is a breaking story, but wouldn't we have accurate oil supply numbers written down somewhere?

Maybe They're Having Diet Cokes...

This Looks Like Van's Old Place

Memories, on the corner of my mind

Misty water colored memories of the way we were

Scattered pictures...

Here's How I Know I'm Getting Old

Pictured above is the Old 66 theater in Crestwood, MO.

I remember the theater well.

They tore it down after I graduated high school in 1992.

Across the street from the theater is Crestwood Mall.

Crestwood partnered with AMC about 15 years ago to build a new multi-screen cineplex right near the Dillard's store.

Word in the paper this morning is that Crestwood already plans to replace the AMC theater.

You know you're getting old when you see something both created and destroyed...

Pic O' the Day

Sick.

Lost in Translation

So last night Trixie and I dined on Chinese food and then went to pick up my dry cleaning.

My dry cleaner rocks.

Good guy, great service.

He's Korean, so sometimes I have to listen closely to what he's saying.

I walked in to get my items and he looks at me and pats his belly with both hands, and asks "When baby?"

I think he's having a go at me, so I grin and respond "Oh, a couple of months."

His faces contorts to reflect confusion and I bid him a good night on my way out the door.

I tell Trixie what he said and she laughs.

As I prowl down the street, however, his comments weigh heavier and heavier in my mind.

I then ask Trixie "I know I'm over weight, but I don't look pregnant, do I?"

She then tells me that she thinks he was inquiring as to when "we'll" be pregnant.

What do you think?

Currently Playing - Don't Worry Baby

God I love this song.

Has it been re-made?

For some reason I think it would kick ass with some punk chords...

Well it’s been building up inside of me
For oh I don’t know how long
I don’t know why
But I keep thinking
Something’s bound to go wrong

But she looks in my eyes
And makes me realize
And she says don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Everything will turn out alright

Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby

I guess I should’ve kept my mouth shut
When I started to brag about my car
But I can’t back down now
I pushed the other guys too far

She makes me come alive
And makes me wanna drive
When she says don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Everything will turn out alright

Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby

She told me baby, when you race today
Just take along my love with you
And if you know how much I loved you
Baby nothing could go wrong with you

Oh what she does to me
When she makes love to me
And she says don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Everything will turn out alright

Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby
Don’t worry baby

Howdy Neighbor!

I got a new neighbor last Thursday.

Well, sort of.

I came home to find a Johnny on the Spot right next to my driveway.

The photo above is not the actual structure, I just thought it would be fun to put a picture up.

The Backstory:

I live in a beautiful, new neighborhood, at the end of a cul-de-sac.

I have one neighbor, to my left.

He moved in last December.

I moved in this June.

For about a month, we had the entire street to ourselves.

We are the only houses on our side of the street.

There are ten vacant lots between the main road and my house.

A while ago, they started building five houses right across the street from my neighbor and I.

With that came:

The muddy tire tracks

The hammering at 5:30 a.m.

The "crew" gathering at 5:15 a.m. and discussing, quite loudly, their weekend...in great detail. Complete with the screaming of obscenities. Lots of whooping involved.

The "crew" using our outdoor water spigot to fill their water coolers.

"Crew Parties" on Friday nights, where maybe four or five crew members, who stop working at 2:00 in the afternoon, will enjoy not one, not two, but dozens of beers. Things have been to the point where they will run out and purchase more beer. Women and friends who don't even work on the job site will join their friends in the garage of a home under construction until well past 8:00 p.m.

Delivery men and concrete trucks blocking our driveways.

You get the point?

It's great to have a new house...it sucks to be one of the first houses on the street.

So, as you can imagine, the events above have compounded in my mind and I have reached the point of feeling dizzy, seein' stars, breakin' pencils mad...

So, I discover a new "structure" next to my house and I LOSE IT.

I don't even turn into my driveway, I round the cul-de-sac and head to the construction office.

Of course, the foreman is gone for the day and I contact the main office. I speak with a woman who can't understand why I'm so mad. After all, it IS a construction zone...I ask her "Would you wan't it next to YOUR house?" I'm quickly assured it will be moved the next day. She was going to call the foreman and let him know.

Not satisfied with the response, I call my neighbor, who hasn't seen the "new addition".

His response: "Oh, fuck that. We're the only houses on our side of the street, and there's how many vacant lots up the street?" "I'll take care of it."

So, an hour later, my neighbor and I moved the "offender", (and oh did it offend) to the street and pushed it, with his truck, up the street, four lots away from my house.

It sat there over the weekend.

I came back on Monday, and it had been moved betweeen two houses under construction, at the bend of the cul-de-sac.

Where it should have been all along.

So, Trixie, ever greatful for me being the one to play the bad cop, but also quick to tell me that I place too many demands on people, comments that "they must have gone to move that thing Monday and thought 'Jesus Christ, this thing is four lots away! What the fuck was this guy complaining about?'".

Sometimes, to get things done, and get them done right, you just do it yourself.

Currently Playing - November Rain

Alright, the guy's a hoosier scum bag, but God damn, these are deep lyrics.

I used to listen to this song incessantly the summer after my high school graduation.

I'm thirty now and it still holds up.

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
We've been through this such a long long time
Just tryin' to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go
An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today
Walking away
If we could take the time to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowin' that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walkin'
In the cold November rain

Do you need some time...on your own
Do you need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone
I know it's hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn't time be out to charm you

Sometimes I need some time...on my
own Sometimes I need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain, ohhh yeahhh
I know that you can love me
When there's no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
Even cold November rain


Don't ya think that you need somebody
Don't ya think that you need someone
Everybody needs somebody
You're not the only one
You're not the only one

The National Pastime Corrupted

EYES...BLINDED...BY...JOSE’S ASS...OR...STERIODS...MUST...LOOK...AWAY.


What's your caption for this photo?

It's A Contest!

What male species has the biggest unit?

Seen Yesterday

Two flies doin' it.

Okay, So Just Admit It...

What's the strangest/funniest thing that's ever happened to you during "the act"?

I'll go first.

A long time ago, I was engaged in the act with a girlfriend, when all the sudden I feel a licking in my rear.

Thinking "Wow! My girlfriend's the greatest! She brought a friend along to toss salad!", I turn around to see it's her damn dog...

Follow It to the Ferry

So after Trixie and I finished our pizza at Fortel's Pizza Den the other evening, we decided to take a drive to find a neighborhood where a friend is building a new home. So, we soon found ourselves on Old Lemay Ferry Road, headed south.

As both of us grew up in South County, we have long been accustomed to traveling up and down Lemay Ferry Road, named in honor of the Lemais Ferry, which operated in the 1800's as a crossing point from one side of the Meramec River to the other.

As I was saying...

So, we're headed south on Old Lemay Ferry, inclining, descending, curving, all along ears popping and admiring the trailer splattered landscape.

I figure we can take the road as far as it intersects with a major road, turn around and say "Wow that was fun. I had no idea Old Lemay Ferry went down that far!"

After 25 minutes, we're still headed down Delta way and we pass underneath an elevated HWY M.

I know where we are and feel we haven't sufficiently explored the windy ways and sleepy hollows that are deep Jefferson County.

Maybe 2 miles past HWY M is Jen-nay's House, pictured above.

In spite of this, we continue the journey.

Bounding, climbing and braking, we enter a quaint little existence of a town square that's seen better days.

We pass the Antonia Liquor and More store and continue descending deeper into what's quickly becoming rurally unfriendly.

I'm determined to find the next major road and then turn around.

We then arrive in Goldman, MO.

HUH? I've lived in St. Louis all my life and have never heard of Goldman, MO.

After all, we're only like 35 minutes from Downtown St. Louis.

The picture is proof of the town.

Got a fire department and everything...

I drive maybe another mile and am confronted by the stop sign pictured above.

Again, HUH?

No ROAD ENDS signs, no SLOW DOWN signs, no STATE PARK signs, no

the road just ends.

I find myself in the Shady Creek State Historic Site.

HUH?

Never heard of it.

Next I find the historic covered bridge (Pictured above, but I hope you've figured that out by now. If not, you're a waterhead and I'd appreciate you just leaving now and never coming back.)

at the end of Old Lemay Ferry road.

So, if there's a bridge, and there has been since 1872

why the fuck would I take a ferry???

Sometimes There Just Aren't Enough Rocks

From a recent adventure, of which I'll share more today.

I believe I said to Trixie as we passed this house

My God, can you imagine the amount of incest that occurred in that house?

A Slacker's Soliloquy

My friends, I beg of you your forgiveness

Due to my obligation to employer

and for those that I provide

It's been a struggle to blog lately

cause there's been nowhere to hide

Drowned by the tedium of my vocation

ain't had time for any blog creation

So to the three of you who frequent

please don't disappear

For I've vowed to entertain you

with new stories and tales here.

And Yet Another...HUH?

Trixie's fortune at dinner tonight...

Another...HUH?

So Trixie and I are making our way home from getting ice cream

The following is my ode to the fast and bearded man

We're clipping along

enjoying a song

and piercing the air of the night

when out of nowhere

a truck comes along

and hurtles past us on the right

I swivel my head and capture the blur

and try to gague its gait

For whizzing by me

is a green SUV

with "AMISH" on its plate

Seen Recently

Huh?

So Trixie and I find ourselves in the Walgreen's Drive Thru last night.

While waiting for my perscription, I see a sign in the window proudly proclaiming that the Walgreen's Pharmacy is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.

Behind that sign, and across the room, is a light switch.

And above that light switch is a black sign with neon green lettering, sporting arrows that point down toward the light switch.

Written on the sign, two times, is:

Turn Lights Off! Turn Lights Off!

So if they're open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, why would they need to turn the lights off?

Just wonderin'.

Viva Las Van!

An email exchange today between Meredith and I. I'm in bold. Anything in quotes should be read aloud in a deep and bellowing voice, as if Van is saying it.

The Set Up: Van & Meredith are getting married in Las Vegas in October.

THIS JUST IN:
THERE IS A HAUFBRAUHAUS IN LAS VEGAS. AUTHENTIC REPLICATION!!!!
EIN, ZWEI, ZUFFA!!!!!!

I'm getting more details now.

Ja! Das ist sehr gut!

In Munchen hat der Haufbrauhas, ein, zwei, zuffa!

Ein prosit, ein prosit, der gemuncliheit!

oh we would make ABSOLUTE FOOLS of ourselves at a haufbrauhaus. whether we were drunk or not. everything would be either "nicht so gut" or "nein!" or "das ist zehr gut". we'd just keep using the simple phrases we knew over and over and over again.
the germans, when they come over, don't know what I'm doing when I sing something like "der hut, der hat, drei ecken". apparently that's not a popular song in germany.

If we go, Van has to wear his lederhosen T-shirt.

OH DEFINITELY. I didn't even think about that! I need to start making a clothes list for him for what he needs to bring.

"Meredith, have you seen my Jerry Springer Security shirt and my wrestling shoes?"

"Meredith, remember those cowboy boots I had? did we for sure throw those away?"

Van, yes, they had cat puke on them.

"Meredith, that's too bad, I could have probably gotten some leather polish and cleaned them up. I realy wanted to wear those when we go see the desert."

"Meredith, have you seen my white rugby shorts and green and blue plaid swim trunks?"

"Meredith, are we going to a dance club at all? because I had these orange disco pants that might still fit..."

"Daisy, no, GRACIE, stop that, git, go on, OUT, OUT, no, those are my NEW VEGAS SHIRTS, GIT!"

"Meredith, do you think I can wear those Bud Dry shorts for swimming trunks?"

"Have you seen my Reebok pumps? I think maybe we'll play tennis while we're there."

I hear this almost on a daily basis:

"Meredith, I was looking at this one thing online...."

and that is usually followed by one of the following:

"and they have these helicopter rides an dinner at the haufbrauhaus for $110.00 a person...."

"and we can take a helicopter grand canyon tour for $300.00 a person..."

"there are these one things that are exact replicas of..." put your item here "

"for our wedding we could..."

"there's a rickshaw that we could go on and tour 'glitter gulch' it says right here 'for 39.95 a person you can take a fabulous rickshaw tour of the impressive downtown lightshow, rickshaw driver will provide one 3 mile round trip tour, 1 5x7 glossy of you and your partner on the rickshaw, and dinner for an additional charge, **ask about our rickshaw wedding package!!' Meredith, I think we should do that, we don't have to get married on it but it shows an actual chinese guy pulling it..."

Yes, he does like "authentic" entertainment.

The rickshaw guy sounds so up his alley. Just like the guy that he got the ride from at the stadium, in fucking 100 degree heat, who he didn't tip. Oh wait, he DID give him a bottle of water...

Just what this small Chinese man needs is to struggle through a tour of "Glitter Gulch" with a 300lb+ man and his new bride who are both smoking and possibly both sipping on tall, fruited drinks, strapped to his back.

That Van, always thinking of others...

Rock Pa and The Missouri Compromise

Just came across these pictures from our trip to Jamaica with SayUnderpants and J.

The top one is an admitted terrible photo of The Missouri Compromise. Look closely and you can make out the outline of his finely sculpted mullet. Draw your eyes directly to the right of the light in the foreground. We saw this guy the first night at the resort and immediately were transfixed.

I beleive J said "What shall we call him?"

I bestowed upon him the name The Missouri Compromise

He was your typical mullet. Drank alot, cussed a lot and smoked a lot. Due to the agressive nature of mullets, I snapped this picture from the safety of a distanced terrace.

The second picture is Rock Pa.

He's customarily reclined in a chair in one of the many bars at the resort.

Please do dig his shirt and his muscles.

Don't forget to kiss that sweaty belly...sexy man meat he was.

One night we all had dinner on the beach, and had to wait a short while for a table. It was no inconvenience, as there's always a bar a few paces away and the drinks are free.

As we waited, we spied the fattest fuck we'd ever seen. He didn't just sit at the table, he lived at it. Seated in a chair in the sand, on the top of the descent to the water below, was Rock Pa. Named by J because he was kind of like a grandpa, but wearing a rock n' roll muscle shirt.

We soon were called to our seats...at Rock Pa's recently vacated table.

No one wanted to sit in Rock Pa's chair, so I took it.

And the rest of the miserable bastards in my party crabbed throughout dinner that they were leaning too far back and falling into the ocean, while I, in my Rock Pa throne enjoyed my meal in balanced comfort.

We saw this fat lop of shit all over the resort.

Always wearing his Rock Pa muscle shirts.

Isn't there a point where muscle shirts should not exceed size 5X?

Currently Playing - Descending

have mercy baby
i'm descending again
open your eyes
this time it's sink or it's swim
No sermons on ascending
No verdict on deceit
No selfish memorandum
No confusion for me
chorus:
curses
curses and clues
a feast for fools
Have mercy baby
And hand me downs
It was just a few years ago
You'd hand me ups and map
Right out of town
But I would let it slide
Like mercury
Silver and quick
Poisonous and deadly
So deadly

Trashy Chicken Driver

So Trixie and I had chicken the other day. Wednesday maybe. Good stuff. I like to eat the drumsticks.

Anyway, the morning after, I rolled out of bed, padded across the floor into the bathroom, put on my robe and opened the bedroom door.

WHAM!

What the fuck is that stench???

Is Hoffa under my basement???

Did we not take the trash out last night???

Jesus H. Christ it's unbearable in here!

So I open all the windows, remove the offending bag from the trash and throw it into the big trash can in the garage, awaiting a Tuesday deployment.

Trixie, who returned home from a 24 shift that morning, called me and wanted to know why all the windows were open.

She HATES it when I leave windows open.

I told her about the offending odor and she still told me to leave the windows closed...BUT HA! SHE DIDN'T NOTICE THE CHOKING ASS LIKE SMELL! IT WORKED! IN YOUR FACE WIFE!

Anyway, an uneventful day passes.

Then I get home, pull the car into the garage, gather a few items and open the car door.

FUCKING CHRIST!

As it's been baking in a closed trash can, in a closed and balls hot garage all day, it's gotten worse...

So, to make a long story short, which is impossible now, Trixie demands I take the belching bag to the dumpster that's parked up the street for the construction of a house.

Later in the evening, I decide I'd like some ice cream.

Baron, wanna go bye-bye???

The three of us pile in the car, but not before I fish the carrion from the can.

I then drive, oh so metrosexually, to the dumpster, eyes protected from the sun by my Ray Ban Aviators, dog happily hanging out the back window...and bag of stink hanging from my outstretched left hand...out the driver's side window.

Now, if YOU saw me, what the fuck would you think?