Barney's Red Carpet

Barney's Version red carpet. A little TL in the BG towards the end.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKKagQ88A94

I'm gonna go talk to myself on Bloor Street.

How kickass would it feel to just give up everything and walk along Bloor Street mumbling to yourself? You know, just let the OCD flow. Yelling occasionally about how the number six fucked up your marriage or how the damn politicians drank your pea soup. Imagine the liberating sensations crawling up your endocrine glands when you stop carefree teenagers to warn them of falling pianos. Think hard about the clever signs you could make with a million words crammed into a 3x4 inch placard taped to your chapeau. Living the dream, man.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WzEhoyXpqzQ

Vacation

Taking June off.

If you need a laugh, just put your penis in between two slices of bread and sit in an alleyway for a few hours.

Grayson Andrew Prozes

Welcome to the world little buddy - all seven pounds of ya. Great name by the way dude. Happy to have you on board. Can't wait to meet ya!

None Of These

The strangest thing about Europe has to be that there are no lesbians. I've been living here for two years and I haven't seen a single one of those stocky crew-cutted things that look at you with those eyes. Sure The Womens go down on each other over here, but that's normal. What they don't do is abandon the rod. All The Womens stay true to the rod.

Mr. Fix It

Sorry about not being able to fix the comments section - I'm going to give it one more try this week and then start smashing shit. It's not the same without your witticisms and repartee.

Fortune Teller

Check out my post on February 20th. Fucking weird, right?

Cantstandya

George. I miss this guy. Watch the scene below and see if you can see the similarities...

I Squish You

Watch the trailer below and I guarantee you'll be kicking yourself for not thinking of the concept first. Not the movie concept, but the idea of kidnapping people and sewing them together into a centipede. Perhaps it's not too late?

Crafts

Thought you bad haircuts would like a glimpse of the crafts I'll be learning to maneuver in June as I make my transition back to Canada. First up is the Bavaria 36 yacht - basically the smallest thing that can survive in an ocean. Guess I'll find out if I get seasick or not, cuz six days living on this thing may be somewhat bumpy. More than calm waters, I'm hoping my fellow students won't ask me a single fucking question and just let me do my thing in peace. Below that is the Cessna 172 - also not the largest situation in the skies. Don't think I'll get to land it or anything, but I will get to take-off and fly the sucker.

The Sound of Simon and Garfunkel

If anyone we know is having a baby boy, please tell that person to name their child Garfunkel.

S & G come to mind because a neighbor of mine has been cranking their greatest hits every week or so, out the window so no less then a thousand people can hear the music. It typically starts at midnight and it's the weirdest thing. The music is so preposterously loud and intentionally directed outwards to the street, you feel angry and imposed upon. But it's Simon and Garfunkel, so how can you get too upset? The guy that's playing this music must be sitting to himself, rubbing his hands together with glee at the conundrum he's placed his neighbors in. Or what is this guy thinking or doing? He's super fucking high, that's for sure.

Did I mention this goes on for hours? It was still cranked two hours later... and nobody complained.

Soccer News

Croatian football player Goran Tunjic had a heart attack, collapsed on the field and died in the 35th minute of a match for Mladost FC against Hrvatski Sokol this weekend. One might think that would have been his final indignity.

Alas, no. Tunjic was given a yellow card for diving ... as he lay dying.

Paramedics tried to revive the 32-year-old part-time soccer player once the referee realized the player wasn't faking it, but by then the damage was done.

"It was 35th minute of the match when we've simply noticed he has fallen down," a club official told reporters. "Doctors have tried to help him, but there was nothing they could do."

"He just fell dead on the spot."

Coaches said Tunjic, who was the son of local legend player, official and referee Cibalia Tunji_, had never had any health issues in the past that they were aware of.

Mladost is a county-level team representing the small town of Su_uraj on the island of Hvar.

I'm not your Mother

Hawking has apparently gone on the record that time travel may one day be possible if research continues for the next 5 or 6 hundred million years. So in the year 600,002,010 people may be able to time travel. Don't get too excited, he provides a caveat - we'll only be able to travel forwards in time, which begs the question, "how the fuck do you get back?"

This is meaningless of course unless you don't eat gluton, which according to Dave Sorbara is really bad for you. Why not cut out all kinds of bread to be on the safe side and make sure you're around for time travel. A few vegetables wouldn't hurt either and no, I'm not your Mother.

Fuck Him

Went for some Carlsberg last night and was sitting beside a couple of computer programmer dudes with serious ego's. They ordered a pack of smokes from the bar and when it was delivered, the guy in the cheaper suit of the two admonished the bartender for not removing the foil wrapper from inside the pack or Prince's. This all happened in Danish, but I'm told the bartender responded that he's not allowed to do that anymore. What kind of asshole asks the bartender to open a pack for him? How much of a cocksucker do you have to be?

Oh yeah, and the guy that was translating this whole fiasco let me know only dickhead's smoke "Prince's".

Fuck You

That's right. I've been away for a bit, not really feeling the blogging mood. But I'm back because of you, so fuck you.

Not only am I back blogging faithful reports to loyal readers, but I'm back in Copenhagen and it didn't take me too long to realize how different shit is over here. Went to a bar on Friday and the bartender/owner introduced himself and shortly after asked me to run the place while he went to pick up a new fridge. I tended bar and helped myself to vodka and played the role. When he came back, we talked about the advantages to swimming in cold water. Sometimes, this place isn't terrible.

Fuck Me

Thanks for all of your emails regarding the technical issues with the comments section. Amazing that a hundred years ago people were talking to each other across the ocean and I can't seem to figure this goddamn thing out. So far, I've done almost nothing to fix it and to my chagrin, doing jack shit doesn't seem to be solving the problem. For now, all we can do is wait. Wait and peel hot peppers and rub our eyes and wait.

Tiger Text

A report has been filed that there's a problem posting comments. Think I've fixed it, but who fucking knows.

Possible text from Tiger to one of his ladies...

That girl u brought
:(
2 much coke.
U got saw?

Easter

On the walk to work there wasn't much going on except a rather healthy handful of tweaked out crack/meth-heads by the train station acting like monkeys and an extra large smattering of street-walking lady types. It's Easter here in CPH and that means a five day weekend and that last night was a major booze-up. A buddy of mine was so smashed he cried for the last hour of the night. Good times.

There's no real Danish tradition to file in my report to you, but I can relay the Czech Easter tradition which involves the men going house to house whipping the womens (I threw in the "s" there cuz I write likes I speaks). Seriously.

The Brain

Let's talk a little bit about alcohol. Why do we drink it? Yes, it's a social lubricant, but why? What's the science here?

Not to make things too complicated, this is a family website, but in a nutshell alcohol makes us dumb. Blissfully dumb. The more you drink it, the more dumb you become. Drink the perfect amount and you become perfect dumb. Drink too much and you become too dumb and do something really stupid. It's amazing that the effects disappear the next morning, leaving only a headache as a friendly reminder not to abuse the privilege.

Shouldn't this be the way we measure alcohol's effects? Instead of breathalyzer's they should do an IQ test which would work something like this... Smart people can drink four beer per hour. Dumb people can drink one half of a beer per hour. You should have to breathe into the machine at the same time answering a series of tricky questions. The way I behaved this weekend, I wouldn't have been surprised to be arrested for drinking and walking.

Too Literal Open Door Policy

Gonna be on set for the next few days and away from this blog type situation, but thought I'd leave you to ponder until next week why it is that nobody in Denmark actually closes the door behind themselves? There are fucking open doors everywhere and it's driving me nuts.

Legion

A new kind of movie is taking Hollywood by storm – let’s call it the, “you’ve got to be kidding me” genre. Films with story so ridiculous you need to have a pencil shoved up your nose (into your brain) to believe what you’re seeing. THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW, DEEP IMPACT, ARMAGEDDON, anything with Ben Affleck (oh wait, is he still acting?) – some prime examples and now Sony Picture’s LEGION.

The 26 million dollar (US) apocalyptic action thriller’s premise is God has had enough of humanity and all of its (our) stupidity. The divine One orders his angel soldier, “Michael”(Paul Bettany, THE DA VINCI CODE) to destroy earth and in particular an unborn baby. Michael defies this and helps save the earth from the apocalypse with a bag full of guns and a little help from some humans (Dennis Quaid, former model Tyrese Gibson, Lucas Black). And yes, I know that doesn’t make any sense. The website Christianity Today calls LEGION “a confused mess of ideas” – a startling critique if you think about the hocus pocus in the bible. But, Christian film reviewers aren’t the only ones scratching their heads – the Los Angeles Times says it’s a “loud, dumb, time-waster” and The Daily Mirror calls it “preposterous”.

A review of LEGION wouldn’t be complete without mentioning what a complete rip off many of the action sequences are. Anyone that’s seen TERMINATOR 2 will be reaching for the nose pencils in one scene that’s stolen shot for shot. Compelling to think a movie with such a flawed central premise and rip-off action could do 17 million dollars on its opening weekend and will likely spawn numerous straight to video sequels.

Now here’s the twist. The strange thing about “Legion” is if you look past the horse manure premise and stop saying to yourself, “you’ve got to be kidding me”, it’s actually a fairly entertaining film. The dialogue is at times inventive, some of the performances halfway decent and I detected a few chills, some arm hair raising and even caught myself on the edge of the seat (and I’m pretty desensitized to this stuff). I left the theatre mildly transformed, expecting something devastating to happen outside the theatre – a sensation entirely unique to cinema and one of the reasons film makes such a great escape. “Legion” briefly altered my reality and even though it’s a good example of why God might actually despise humanity and want to kill us all, the film did what it was meant to do.

From Paris With Love

Here's my 420 word movie review of Travolta's FROM PARIS WITH LOVE for the Copenhagen Post... my first review:

I should start by saying I’ve never reviewed a movie before. I’m a filmmaker and assuming the role of reviewer is playing tricks with my gag reflex. The two Hollywood films I’ve co-written have been destroyed by the press and I have to confess some animosity towards the pseudo-intellectual film industry tourists that aggressively critique something they lack the talent to create themselves. But, things being what they are, I’m here and you’re there, so let’s get started ruthlessly dissecting FROM PARIS WITH LOVE.

But first an aside – I’m sure you’ll be interested in a brief look at the mechanics of a film review. How it works is the film distributor, in this case Nordisk Film, holds a screening a week before the release, first thing in the morning. They dish out free coffee and croissant and try as hard as possible to put the reviewer in a good mood. Did it work?

The sixty million dollar (U.S.) action thriller with a deceptively romantic title, matches John Travolta with burgeoning star Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Travolta plays an experienced government operative, while Meyers’ character is a newcomer to the, “save the world from terrorists” game. The film tries to be cutting edge and push the boundaries of the genre, but the grittiness feels manufactured and the dialogue bogged down in cliché. There’s nothing fresh or innovative in terms of concept or craft and the action plays out like the film was shot a decade ago and got lost on the way to the theatre. It’s not a terrible movie – the story moves quickly and you could do worse with your ninety minutes, but you’ve seen this movie before. Travolta even goes so far as to tip his cap to better days having his favorite meal, a “Royale with cheese” hand delivered. You know your career is toast when you’re quoting yourself from a different movie.

What happened to Travolta anyways? For his first movie without his trademark wig (he’s bald), you’d expect more… I don’t know, “oomph” – is that a film reviewer word? Travolta delivers some tricky lines, but his counterpart Meyers’ portrayal lacked verisimilitude and was so forced he might as well been reading cue cards. A few years back, I was Associate Producer of a movie that was trying to cast Meyers and after some serious inquiries we learned he was “trouble”. There’s a scene when Meyers briefly seems disinterested by the prospects of snorting a line of cocaine – perhaps the only real acting he did all movie.

Roger Corman

Probably forgot to tell you dudes, I'm now the movie reviewer for the local English newspaper the Copenhagen Post. Today begins a series of the three articles that have gone to press - there's no access online to the film section, so I'll post them here and look forward to your comments. First up, a retrospective of Roger Corman's work...

When it comes to low budget horror blockbusters like the original Saw, Paranormal Activity and The Blair Witch Project, most people can’t stand their insipid story lines, contained locations and amateur performances. These films made hundreds of millions of dollars though on a shoestring budget and regardless of your feelings for this brand of celluloid, the man responsible is Roger Corman. He didn’t produce these movies of course, his most popular work being Little Shop of Horrors (shot in two days for $30,000 in 1960!), but he did write the playbook for horror movies to profit, no matter how terrible, in How I Made A Hundred Movies In Hollywood And Never Lost A Dime (1990).

Born in Detroit in 1926, Corman’s actually made 388 movies to be precise, 56 of which he directed dating back to 1954. He was the Producer young filmmakers dreamed of working for despite his perfectionist slave driving ways and stories of locking writers in a room. Corman took chances on raw creative talent and forced people to work fast and think on their feet – a style contemporary insurance and financing models have made all but obsolete. Future legends like Scorcese, Coppola, Cameron all got their start on Corman productions – Coppola even worked as a soundman and Cameron a model builder. Generations of Hollywood names, from the top to the bottom of the credit roll learned the fundamentals of story and craft on a Roger Corman production.

The retrospective Produced By Roger Corman is on at the DFI’s cinematheque through March and includes seven titles, two of which are obscure and compelling enough to forget the fact they aren’t any good. Devil’s Castle (1963) originally titled, Dementia 13 (US), was directed by Francis Ford Coppola nine years before Godfather and stars Luana Anders (Easy Rider). The black and white, Psycho inspired horror flick plays at Sunday, March 7 @ 14hr and Tuesday, March 30 @ 19:30hr.

Togrøverne From Arkansas (1972) aka Boxcar Bertha, is the film Scorsese made prior to Mean Streets, stars Barbara Hershey and David Carradine. Shot in 24 days for just over half a million dollars, it was completed with barely enough time and money to shoot a few scenes of his current epics and will reassure most young filmmakers that even Scorsese started somewhere (Tuesday, March 2 @ 21:30hr and Saturday, March 20 @ 16hr).

Corman’s work can be tedious, even unintentionally comedic, but if your taste extends to viewing creative talent and a genre in its formative stages, then check this out.

A Star Is Born

How much has the world changed now that there's a video camera almost everywhere? First Amercia's Funniest Home Video's, then youtube have given us the opportunity to look at our most embarrassing moments in slow motion. Unlike never before, new stars are made overnight like this elderly gentleman - perhaps the finest 36 seconds you're likely to see (God, I'm immature).

Dog Ears

Today you lucky bastards get two posts. This one's on dogs.

Dogs have a super amazing sense of smell and their ears are totally awesome, correct? How does that work? The sound thing I mean. Does something that's loud to us seem really loud to them? What about those bark-y dogs that yap in that high-pitched yelp? They must make themselves deaf before their blowing the candles out on their first (7th) dog bone.

Time Warp

Let me be the first to congratulate you North Americans on your exceptional time change this past weekend. Another flawlessly executed mini-time leap. You've got the one-hour jump down to perfection now. But can you do two hours? More? I'd like to see that.

Denmark doesn't do it's time warp for another two or three weeks. We like to watch you guys do it first to make sure everything goes fine - nobody disappears from photographs or any weird shit like that. The result of course is now we're only five hours apart. I feel so much closer.

Bill Gates

So apparently we've got a new richest dude in the world... and he's Mexican. Raise your enchilada if you didn't see that coming. Carlos Slim Helu (that's right, his middle name is slim), welcome to the pole position. He'll probably be there a while too - don't exactly see "Slim" giving away billions to charity.

No disrespect to Mexico, but you can buy anything you want down there for like twenty bucks. Maybe that's how this guy got so wealthy - he has to hop on a plane if he wants to spend any dough.

Original Kenny Powers

If you know the awesome show EASTBOUND AND DOWN, then you might be interested to discover the namesake of the title character is a Canadian stunt man from the 1970's. Briefly famous for perhaps the dumbest stunt in the history of dumb stunts, Powers attempted to cross the St. Lawrence River, by air, in a banana yellow Lincoln Continental.

There are many juicy tidbits to consider here - how did he raise a million (1970) dollars for such a obviously flawed concept? How did he break his back seven times previously? Where is he now? Was it his last stunt? Why did his car not make it? Well, that last one answers itself. But the question looms, has anyone ever done something this incredible and why, as Canadians, don't we all know the Kenny Powers name? Heck, this guy should be a household name in Korea, let alone his home province. This guy should be a legend and you'd have to imagine, that what drove him into that car was the idea that make it or no, he was going to be a remembered for all of time, beyond the cozy confines of blogs (like this) dedicated to such behavior.

What's a more spectacular failure - his abbreviated jump or our collective ignorance to this seminal event?

Further, one must acknowledge the pure Canadian-ness of such a feat. Nowhere else is self deprecating a finely tuned art like it is in Ontario. Fuck, I get homesick just thinking about it.

Normal Weekend

Another normal weekend here in Kobenhavn. Nothing special to report. Played Wii golf on Friday night with some guys and ate fried chicken later on. Rockin'. Why am I bothering to write when I've got nothing compelling to say? Good question. Still don't understand twitter or why people update their facebook status like we give a shit their cat looks cute in a sweater or they hate the new Bachelor.

Hurt Locker did well in the Oscar's didn't it? David beats Goliath. Hollwood really loves an underdog when that underdog isn't a white male (unless that white male is recovering from addiction). Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin must have been funny. The show didn't start here until 2am, so I'm just guessing.

Cool Runnings

You guys are probably wondering how Denmark did at the Olympics. Well... their best hope for a medal was the female curling team. That group went 3-5, missed the playoffs and the team "skip" cried in her game against Canada because the crowd intimidated her.

People have been quick to mention how well Canada did and most here seemed to watch the final hockey game (or at least said they did). They like to explain that their countries overall performance was so poor because there's never any snow here, nor any mountains or winter Olympic sport facilities. Three words guys - Jamaican bobsled team.

Kanada

What a game.

Watched the Swedish feed. After Canada's first goal, the announcer broke into English and said with his thick accent, "and the place goes banana's".

The European's score the Olympic standings by gold medals, so as far as the people over here are concerned, Canada or as they write, "Kanada", won the Olympics. Pretty weird to see Canada in this kind of a spotlight - probably a first for all of us.

Got to see the interviews with the Canadian players on Swedish TV and if you think they say boring answers on English TV, you should hear how severely they mail in their performance for foreign press. They barely even answer the question.

Time Machine

It's time we face the cold hard fact that humans will never invent a time machine. Our species must certainly perish before this invention, otherwise... we'd know about it. No way buddy-boy that invents a TM could travel back and keep it a secret. Las Vegas probably has a guy specifically on the look out for time machine dudes with Sports Almanacs. Mind you, Leonardo Di Vinci could be a time machine guy - he invented a whole bunch of shit ahead of his time and having seen the Mona Lisa a few times, the best thing about the painting is wondering how the fuck it became so insanely famous.

Volcano

It's been a while since a volcano went kaboom. We're probably due.

History Lesson

When the 3rd Reich defeated a country, they took ownership of it and all it's assets. But when Germany lost the war, nobody took ownership of them. Sure the US and Russia made them pay in one way or another, but one must conclude it's surprising countries don't attack each other more - after all, what do they have to lose?

Took the Metro home today and at Norreport station our train was attacked entering the station by a thousand football hooligans, banging on the windows and doors. The "Kobenhavn Boys" boarded like a virus, driving families and old ladies quickly to the exit. I kept my eyes on the magical verse of the historical novel TEXAS by James A. Michener, but looked up from time to time to eyeball the happenings and file this faithful report.

I saw graffiti, destruction of property, placement of club stickers over security camera bubbles, punching of holes, drinking of alcohol (legal on Metro trains) combined with ample cigarette smoking and loud noises. Doors were broken and a window smashed but the teams of riot police in tow did nothing to stop the carnage.

The chanting was rhythmic and a smile crept to my right mouth corner as they all jumped up and down in unison, nearly driving us from the track and forcing a lengthy delay. Then came the Nazi salutes, and skinhead behavior that made things tense, at least in my own head. It felt strange to be in the middle of that mix. Quite strange indeed. I wanted to confront them, but their numbers were too strong and that's all I'll say about that.

Dressed in dark blue they did, my favorite color. Borderline black some would say. In the middle of such a group it was easy to feel their collective strength and individual insecurities. I saw the look in their eyes as they made the stiff arm German gesture and the smiles and laughter that followed. I placed myself back in time and really felt something inside. Goddamn did I want to do something. What did I have to lose?

Bring Amber Lamps

This video below is basically the number one thing on the internet right now, so there's a good chance you've seen the hundred different spin offs. There's a nice video dedicated to the girl in the purple that just watches the whole thing without changing her expression and a video that likens the fisticuffs to a video game. But, here in it's Oakland sunshine glory is the original, no commentary required...

Jamiroquai

Whatever happened to Jamiroquai?

Remember those guys smoking joints on stage at Metropolis in Montreal and thinking they were the next big long time thing. Isn't it amazing how bands that come and go get plenty of attention as "one hit wonders" but film directors that make incredible work and fade into oblivion do so in obscurity? "Deer Hunter" director Michael Cimino did fuck all after that masterpiece and nobody said boo. My favorite movie growing up, "Arthur", directed by Steve Gordon was his last effort and again, nobody is the wiser. Why is it that for musicians it takes one three minute song to become a household name, but for filmmakers, you could spend a year making a two hour masterpiece and fall off a cliff the next day and nobody would notice?

Jenkem

Today I'm researching a documentary on Jenkem, a popular street drug in Zambia which consists of mixing piss and shit and letting it ferment for a week. Some say the high is even better than glue. So there you go.

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueen has taken his own life. The fashion designer they called "enfant terrible" until only a few years ago is gone. What's the deal here? Usually drugs, right? But what does that mean? Drugs? Was he out of drugs? He had lots of money, he could probably get some more.

In A Tight Spot

Apparently this is the first real winter in Denmark in fourteen years. There's snow on the ground and everything, which for these fucking morons means they actually have to communicate with other humans, something they're loathe to do and have no inherent capacity for. Take this morning on my walk to the office. I stopped to help a car stuck in the snow. Three men pushing a BMW, no problem. Except the burly dudes I was pushing with didn't know about the "rocking" thing. They just pushed. I'm willing to overlook this stupidity as it's based on a lack of experience. I stopped the team and made the rocking motion and less than ten seconds later the car was moving like it was pulled by a team of six white horses.

Of course, as he's being pushed into traffic, two cars try to drive by in opposite directions - a pretty tight fit. They saw our predicament and sped up, as the notion of courtesy has never and will never exist here. Also, these Danes love squeezing into tight places. They love it. I often wonder if the whole appeal of sticking a dick into an asshole is just about this fascination of cramming big things into small places. Anyways... that same instinct was at work as we pushed this car into the road that was filled with fast moving cars. In a very small space, there was a fuckload of cars and people... a real tight fit if you know what I'm saying. No accident, but pretty damn close.

Childhood Friends

I wonder if any of my childhood friends are dead? I used to run with a pretty tweaked out bunch of fellers - the cream of the cream of the cream of the nerd crop. Some serious dolts of which I was without question the super-nerd. Wouldn't be surprised to find Nils Ozolins died twisting his ankle playing Nintendo tennis or James Berry got caught cheating in Atlantic City and was thrown out a hotel window. Of all the toolboxes I've known, someone's got to have bit the bucket.

Speaking of dying, I'm heading to a remote island in Denmark this Friday to do a documentary on Satanism. The 3.5 hour ferry to Anholt (google map it for a laugh) doesn't operate on the weekend, so we're stuck there until Monday. I'm fucking scared shitless.

Three Gay Bears

Walked by the same travel agency and had to stop and look again at this awesome brochure on Canada. The mountie has the fucking hugest mustache and a grin that could only be described as severely homosexual. If there's an abundance of gay Danes traveling to the Canadian wilderness in 2010, getting eaten alive by the three bears and climbing trees, I've got the smoking gun.

Oh Canada

Just walked past a travel agency and saw a brochure for Canada in the front window. Stopped and took a hard look. There were three pictures - guess what they were.

Picture #1: Snow covered mountains
Picture #2: Mounties on horseback
Picture #3: Three grizzly bears, standing, facing camera

I thought, wow - no Toronto, Montreal... nothing urban. Makes sense though, Europe has no nature. Aside from the Alps, it's just a collection of quaint towns and cultural or industrial cities. There's not even any squirrels or raccoons. Anywhere. There's no wildlife, no "cottage country", no nothing. Just cafes, ashtrays and fuckheads in expensive scarves.

A merde

Just got back from the pizza shop, which in no way shape or form is Italian. When did pizza cease to have anything to do with Italy? Pizza Pizza - I'm looking in your direction. And would it kill these guys to cut the pizza slices somewhat evenly? It's like that kid in The Royal Tennenbaums that thinks squares are circles. How did so many people that are "shape blind" find jobs in the Kobenhavn pizza business?

I asked for a bag to carry my pizza box, in English, and the guy was kind enough to tell me the Danish translation. I thanked him and said, "jai sprek in lille Dansk", which means "I speak a little Danish" - except "sprek" is fucking Dutch, not Danish. I somehow managed to combine two languages I don't speak into one sentence. The squishhead looked at me like, ""what kind of idiot can't remember five words". A guy who can't cut eight six even slices in a ten inch circle just made me look like a moron.

Reminds me of the time I was working at Angels in Montreal. Was in the washroom when a drunk French guy started yelling and screaming like mad at me. Didn't understand a fucking word he was saying. He finished and stared hard at me waiting for my response, which was, "a merde". He paused, then almost fell over laughing.

Frankly Scarlet

Love the way people kiss in old movies. Almost as realistic as the way they die, shot fifteen times with no blood. You could knock someone out with a chop to the shoulder. Must have been easy to write.

What's strange is how we've gone from unrealistic, basic and simple portrayals of action and intimacy, then paused for a cup of coffee on "realistic" and shot like a hollow-point bullet to cinema and TV so gritty and harsh there's nothing remotely realistic about it.

Illiterate Jesus

Just figured out why Christianity is more popular than ever in the States. Jesus was illiterate. He's completely non-threatening to a very large number of people, like a few other current popular American figures - Sarah Palin, George W. Bush, Rev. Pat Robertson. Even better for Him - everybody wrote about Jesus, while He didn't write jack shit. Makes Him look great. Like when you talk up a buddy of yours to a girl. Works every time.

No big deal that He couldn't write - most people couldn't at the time. The guy was apparently a great talker and that's gotta count for something. Not sure the people that follow Jesus' teachings are great readers themselves. Looks like they may be missing the point. Try and explain how 99.9% of NRA members are Christian. Don't remember the passage in the bible where He talks about filling people full of lead for stealing. It's staggering how mixed up Jesus' original message has gotten. Perhaps that's because He didn't actually write anything down.

The Angels Forget To Pray For Us

The Vatican recently issued a statement saying they're concerned with the trend of worshipping nature instead of the Holy Trinity. They consider it a dangerous development and condemn the notion of paying homage to something real and vibrant and important versus the blind faith in a particular brand of spirituality. Imagine the consequences of worshipping nature over a made-up story about a man that lived two thousand years ago and had the mental imbalance to claim to be the son of God. In other words, the Vatican is deeply troubled at the growing trend of rational thought. It threatens their business plan.

In recent years, I've come to believe in something, a "force" or "schwartz" if you will - but it's poorly defined and very personal. The ostentatious gall of the Vatican has never given me that itch, but when they go too far, they go too far. Wouldn't it be a great idea for atheists to door to door in a Christian neighborhood?

My Girl In The River

Had some good alcohols this weekend. Plenty of refreshing pilsner and a tip here and there of medicinal liquor. Got into a groove and found a higher plain. Relaxed and social, I discovered a communication level that had eluded me and found myself connecting to the soul of this place and the people around me, but in particular had some good texts with the big fella back home. It's not that booze can solve all of life's problems, but a few well placed libations can certainly put a thing or two in perspective.

Here's what I'm talking about. I'd been struggling of late, not entirely satisfied with my purpose in life. The movie business seemed to be a false prophet. Somehow, buried within my half drunk ramblings on this or that, I found my place as a story teller - not to others, but myself. Not the center of attention, but as observer and participant. Good inner dialogue is what I'm talking about. I found a little of my voice, albeit a sometimes angry one. I found that stories are important. They mean something. Stories strongly suggest that the teller has "lived", which in the simplest terms I can fathom, is what life is about.

A Clean Somethingorother

Just found out the Danish aren't huge on washing their hands. Even after taking a shit. Seriously. One guy said proudly, "maybe if my finger breaks through the toilet paper I'll give it a quick rinse." I think I need to throw up now. It's like a bad horror movie, but instead of seeing dead people, everywhere I look I see feces stains.

Alomar cont'd.

This from the New York Daily News...

Baseball great Roberto Alomar has full-blown AIDS but insisted on having unprotected sex, his ex-girlfriend charged Tuesday in a bombshell lawsuit.

The shocking claim was leveled by Ilya Dall, 31, who said she lived with the ex-Met for three years and watched in horror as his health worsened.

In papers filed in state and federal court, Dall said Alomar finally got tested in January 2006 while suffering from a cough, fatigue and shingles.

"The test results of him being HIV-positive was given to him and the plaintiff on or about Feb.6, 2006," the $15 million negligence suit says.

Nine days later, the couple went to see a disease specialist who discovered a mass in the retired second baseman's chest, the court papers say.

Alomar's skin had turned purple, he was foaming at the mouth and a spinal tap "showed he had full-blown AIDS," the suit says.

Alomar, 41, who quit baseball over health issues in 2005, could not be reached for comment.

Robbie Alomar

Remember the girl with the attitude at McGill that was soooooooo proud of herself for "dating" Robbie Alomar? When he hit that home run off Eckersly and the Jays ended up winning the World Series - she acted like she invented sports and was impossible to deal with. You know the one I'm talking about - she had an ugly sister and we always used to wonder how the hell two sisters could look so fucking different.

Anyway, word on the street is Robbie isn't exactly at the top of his game these days. But let's not hit a man when he's down. But holy shit, I'd like to see this girl bragging now about "dating" a guy who must have about 10,000 notches on his belt. Where's your big hair attitude now sister?

I think I over-think things

I'm not the best gambler in the world, not the worst either. One thing I could never handicap was wrestling. Obviously it's fixed, but the game used to be to guess who they wanted to win. I was always picking the guy with the full name, like "Arnold Lewis" even when he fought somebody in a full costume called, "The Iron Mystery Truck Man" or whatever. I always figured that the WWF knew it was too obvious to have the Arnold's lose every time, which of course they did. Once at McGill I lost $60 to a guy named "Sticks" watching Wrestlemania#69 at Annies. I didn't get one right. To this day I wonder if we were watching a repeat.

Mad World

We live in one motherfucker of a mad world. A friend of mine here in the Dk's Dad just died. He'd been knighted by the queen and given a medal to commemorate the honor. My buddy just got a letter in the mail saying that he is now obliged to return his Father's medal promptly.

At times, I'm convinced this is the worst place in the world. Another guy I work with - his wife just had to quit her job because her boss took pictures of his cock and then made her look at them. Twenty three pictures in all. Brutal.

Other times, I think this is a pretty decent place. Nobody j-walks, or runs red lights. Everything is so orderly. Tipping service staff is frowned upon and considered an insult. Theatre tickets are reserved in advance along with your specific seat. Everything is clean and neat and if I hadn't been here long enough to see and hear the stories that boil up from under the surface, I'd think this is a special place where nothing ever goes wrong, which is obviously not the case. Like everywhere else, Denmark is a mad, mad world.

New And Much Much Worse

Welcome to the new and improved 2010 version of imissthisguy. The changes to the layout took my entire holiday to generate in a sophisticated graphics program I wrote on a cocktail napkin and faxed to Bill Gates sailboat in Tampa. He forwarded said napkin, by way of carrier pigeon to Texas Instruments Key Largo headquarters where fourteen hundred Chinese-Mexicans spent Christmas Eve translating the message to Spanish, for no particular reason. Hope you like.

With the new decade upon us, let us resolve here and now to usher in an era of idiotic behavior and a general lack of courtesy towards others. Let's make the "10's" make the "80's" look like a time of kindness, conservative consumption and consideration. Let's amp up the head butting and tequila snarts. Let's take up fisting as a hobby. Let's get it out of our eco-systems, before we do any material damage. In other words, let the games begin.