Ladies Man.

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RDJ - Golden Globes

Cori made me watch this, and it made me decide that when I grow up, I want to be like Robert Downey Jr. The man. Wins the award, has everyone cracking up at how freaking awesome he is, and then gets media attention for his humor - non-scripted mind you. What could get better than that?

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I'm late to the party, but at least I've arrived.

This video kills me.

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Get the tissues ready.

99 Balloons/Eliot's Story

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Sugar Glyders... God's Gift To Man-Kind

Sugar Glyders... I looked them up on youtube for some reason, and ended up watching this little gem a few minutes later in the dark, in my boxers, in my room, on the phone giving someone a play-by-play.
Notice how the one that "gyldes" seems to immediately regret his decision moments after.

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Gaga before she went gaga!

Boiling point. A show that used to be popular on MTV a few years ago that focused on seeing how quickly it could piss someone off, head detached from shoulders and all. Lady Gaga appeared on the show in 2005 and (in my opinion) she knew the whole time.

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"I'm Stealin' It"

Planet Earth: It is a grimy place, full of decay and desolation. People are hungry here, they love to eat, and sometimes they go to public venues to try to curb their appetites with something delicious: Enter McDonald's. I had just cashed my check in Walmart, and the McDonald's was in spoken Walmart, therefore it seemed completely rational that my two companions (Matthew, Mark) and I venture into that McDonald's to treat ourselves (I deserved a Big Mac Combo Meal, because on that particular night I thought about attempting to exercise). This is the story of that adventure, this is the story of that paycheck's demise. This is the story. It is long, but it is true...

I walk in the McDonald's and order my food. Thumb through my (in my opinion) loads of cash to find something small enough to give the cashier (Ginger) without breaking anything ridiculous (this always leads me to buying... well I'd buy it anyways). I get my food. Matthew and Mark were right after me, and we sat down and began discussing one of the indolents we have the pleasure of working with. Mid-conversation, I noticed Ginger walking back into McDonald's giving me a terrible look (I could hardly tell however, she had a lazy eye)."She said she didn't understand why good people die all the time and you're still alive", Matthew said referring to the indolent. I rolled my eyes as Matthew continued to inform me that "She [indolent] said she wanted to make a Voodoo doll of you and poke it with needles". "Ridiculous", I thought to myself as I noticed something was terribly wrong with my buttocks (apart from the usual).

No wallet. Frantic, I started to look everywhere that I could possibly have left it. In the bags, in the bags in the trash. In the bags in the trash again. On the table. In my pockets. To the windows, to the wall, on the floor I'm sure I crawled, searching for just some morsel of evidence that my wallet was alright. I asked Ginger if she saw my wallet, and was met with a brisk "no" from her and her ragamuffin co-workers, and was then told to come back in the morning and ask management. "Someone probably just swiped it off the counter", Ginger announced with an ironic amount of certainty. "We'll whatever the case, I'm sure she'll be able to find something since there are camera's right there and there", I said proud of myself for noticing the two camera's facing the counter, and Ginger.

I then go to the Walmart staff, still frantic and searching for answers. They were initially more help to me than the McDonald's staff, and helped me search through the trashcans yet another time to only find trash and ethnic weave. I drive home angry. I drive home upset. First of all, I'm an idiot for leaving the wallet on the counter. This is an obvious understatement that I well understand, but I am still upset. I kept thinking to myself, "What is wrong with the world?" or something of that nature the whole journey home.

I called Matthew, upset - wondering what his brother and he thought about the situation. I told him my newly concocted suspicions of Ginger taking my money and the look she gave me, but they were just suspicions. That night I tossed and turned. I could barely get to sleep because the weight of those bills and missed fast-food lunch and dinner opportunities were weighing heavy on my head and stomach (this was when I was a recovering fatty fatskin). As soon as the aforementioned manager walked through those mustard and ketchup stained doors, I would be there to explain my grievances, and demand retribution.

I gave her a chance. I had ideas that Ginger took my money (you know this). I walked towards the lost and found at Walmart hoping that she would have some sense to turn it in with all of the money intact. "I won't even turn her in" I thought to myself as I hopefully walked toward my destination. I asked. The attendant checked. "I'm sorry sir, we didn't receive any wallets today, leave your number behind and we'll call you if we receive anything within the next week."

The time had now come. I turned towards the Golden Arches, prepared to see the culprit who pilfered my wallet and potential livelihood for the next two weeks. I asked to speak to a manager. Told her of my situation, and she took me back in the back to witness Ginger stealing my wallet off of the counter right as Mark turned around. I witnessed Ginger putting the wallet under the counter. Witnessed her taking the wallet to her car. Witnessed her getting fired. We called the police and I filed a report and turned in the evidence. We couldn't get a hold of her so I was told to wait and I would receive a call within the next 24-48 hours.

No call came. Days later. No call came. I decided to call them. I gave them my case number time and time again to be told that the case was not in the system. Little over a week later, I was informed that the case was rejected, the accused said she did not take the wallet and there was no money in it anyways. I tried to get one of my parent's friends involved (a detective in that department). I got a call, and was asked for the case number. Still no calls since then. Months have now passed.

First of all. The amount of money in the wallet was 450 dollars. For me, that is a lot of money. Second, of course she said she didn't take the money, in case the amazing police force of this city didn't notice, they weren't asking Oprah Winfrey about her favorite things, they were asking a guilty and dishonest thief if she took something that wasn't hers. Obviously they don't have investigators like Sherlock Holmes or Joey Greco from Cheaters on their staff - I'm pretty sure they would've completely rearranged the situation in everyone's favor, especially the victim's. Fourth, police did not do their job. They can pull me over, suspend my license for six months, and charge me hundreds of dollars for going too fast in an automobile quicker than you can say Grey-Goose-on-the-rocks-going-eighty-eight-in-a-fifty-five. When it comes to actually protecting and serving however, they are protecting their wallets and serving my tax money to an inefficient, greed-ran, crime-friendly business that should be ashamed to call themselves law enforcement.

PS. I still want my money.

PSS. I wanted to sue McDonald's but didn't want to put any hindrances in our future together, as I have a very serious idea to someday be a spokesperson for them, much like Justin Timberlake or Ronald McDonald.

PSSS. "F" the Popo, and "F" that Hoho"

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One Way Ticket:: Rom Houben

So, you think your life sucks a little? This guy was misdiagnosed with a coma, and trapped as a silent immovable prisoner in his own body! How long you may ask? 23 years!

Rom Houben was trapped in his own body for 23 years. Doctors assumed that he was just in a vegitive state after being in a near fatal car accident in 1983. They beleived that there was no hope for this man. For 23 years Rom was able to hear and recognize people from their voices. From the doctors and nurses that entered his room, to his own mother. He had to listen in silence as his mother told him when his father died. Rom says that he knew what was going on around him the whole time.

Steven Laureys, a neurologist was the one to discover Roms case. He decided to take a look at the state of diagnosed coma patients. He released Rom from his personal hell using a state of the art scanning system. Laureys found that Rom's brain was almost normal. He descovered that Rom was completely paralyzed AND he was also completely conscience. He was just unable to communicate.

Rom realised what had happened when he had come around from his accident. He knew that his body was completly paralised.

"I screamed but there was nothing to hear." he told the reporter via his keyboard.

Laureys findings reopen cases of patients that were terminated while in a false state of a coma. Laureys noted that coma patients are misdiagnosed at an alarming level. He examined 44 patients and out of 44 patients 18 of them were responsive as Rom was.

Rom Houben, you deserve a one way ticket to Heaven my good sir!

\m/><\m/-Knuckles

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Movies That Dont Blow:: Behind The Mask-The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Behind the Mask, not one that was very heard of. But this movie did tag along with all of those "Real Recording Movies" such as Blair Witch, Quarintine, and Cloverfeild.

Behind the Mask represents a reporters veiw as she does a strange report and interveiw with a serial killer. Leslie takes the reporter through a series of interesting tactics, his plans on how and when he kills people. Leslie only wants one thing, a survivor girl. One that, through his escape, or death will tell his story to the world. Everyone should fear Leslie.

Although the acting isn't quite the best, Behind the Mask, is a very interesting tale behind the mind of a serial killer. This movie almost makes you feel as if it is a normal every day thing. The comedy of the movie is a little gory with some dry humor here and there.

STARRING

Nathan Baesel

Angela Goethals

Zelda Rubinstein

Scott Wilson

Robert Englund

Directed By:: Scott Glosserman

Released ::2007

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Silence of The Mexicans

Creepy. I imagine him dragging my lifeless body through the leaves in the back yard. My legs seem to make a small trail leading to the broken down shack that remains. He looks down at me as my body thumps onto the work bench. "Ho la Como Est as?"
I think I have a stalker. I think that they are supposed to be secretive. But unfortunately this one is not. His name...Nurry. His purpose? To fill his imagination with wicked dreams about me! Now this has been accruing for a long time. Actually since I started my job. I let it go. Being from Georgia, we have our fair share of Mexican men. In Griffin the population doubles. And for a Caucasian girl, 99 percent of the time if you walk past a Mexican. They are going to hit on you. Who knows, there are plenty of reasons I suppose. The most I have heard is that they just like white girls or they want a green card so they wish to marry. That one has been done to me a few times. Nurry is Mexican. Nurry speaks little English. Imagine a Super Mario Impersonator starring at you all day. I'm not talking from across the room here. I will come to the dish room to put away dishes and he is litteraly standing less then a foot away from me, gawking at me like some circus monkey. He asks me on dates EVERY time I work with him. I tell him I am engaged, I don't know how to make him understand. But whatever.

He is also obsessed with a friend of mine. He loves her butt. She has only seen him once and he knows where she works, what car she drives. Its super creepy. I imagine him killing me through that creepy wide grin of his. I scared him though. Today when he was staring at me. Doing his less then one foot away from me thing, I paused. Laughed to myself for a minute, then screamed as loud as I could in his direction. I think he peed his pants.

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