God damn, I love Heroes!

All I got to say is Dr. Suresh...Damn! It take a dysfunctional muh fucka to bust somebody in they eye like that! Wooh! That was some wild-ass shit!

And by the way, damn Dania Ramirez is fine. She is so beautiful. But poor baby, she's always crying. I'm a sucker for a beautiful woman who crys.

Labels: Hot Bitches, TV

I waited with baited breath for the premiere of Battlestar Galactica: Razor

I was not disappointed.

The story centered around a young female officer, Kendra Shaw (doesn't that sound like a sista's name?) and how she is shaped into a "Razor", an instrument of war, during her service on the Battlestar Pegasus. Under the command of the ruthless Admiral Cain (played by Michelle Forbes), she is witness and participant to the atrocities that occurred on the Pegasus after the Cylon Holocaust.

And by the way, she's a little badass. Little hottie with an Australian accent that's tough as nails. Nice. Of course she goes head to head with Starbuck. Do I sense a catfight?

The cool part of the TV movie is the tie-in to the present-day Pegasus with the Cylons of the original series. You'll have to watch to understand that.

I was a little disappointed at how brief it was. Yes it was two hours, but I want more. I can't wait until friggin' April for more Battlestar. If you listen to the writer's meeting podcast for this, there's so much that they wrote that for whatever reason got axed from the final cut. Damn, all of that would have been great television.


All of this has happened before and all of this will happen again.
Kara Thrace is the harbinger of doom :|
Cool

Labels: Movies, TV

So of course, it's Black Friday, and we ain't doin' shit.

Bump dat. I'm not getting up at 5AM to go sale shopping. After the night I had last night. You must be joking.

So we decided that we were going to have leftover day. Since my father had to work Thanksgiving (that shit's about to stop), he couldn't make it down to Cranny's. We decided to make a second meal just for us; Mom, Dad, and myself.

Typical shit only in lighter doses. yes, we're making brand new dishes just to have leftovers, hehe. :) Mom made a turkey breast and a giant pan of stuffing, some greens, carrots, and cranberry sauce. I of course brought the closer, my slammin' "Smack Yo Momma" Macaroni & Cheese. Of course I had to go shopping for all the ingredients on black Friday. Fortunately I found everything I needed at my local Giant. It was pretty empty in there, though.

I ran into Becky McCarron & Josh Tay in the store. We talked for about an hour in the meat section. I think I may have to get back together with the Audubon Symphony Orchestra. It's a possibility.

Anyway, we had a little post-Thanksgiving mini feast for just ourselves. Watched Ocean's 13 on DVD. Mom went to bed at 8:30, and Dad fell asleep on the couch shortly after. Nice. Dad woke up just in time to see the ending credits and fell back asleep.


That was fun.

Labels: Family, Food, Holidays, Movies

Alright I know I'm late as hell posting this, but deal with it.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I drove down with my mom to the city to my uncle Cranny's house for dinner.

Cranny's was a blast. Just about everyone was there. Mom brought Hors D'oeuvres and her famous pineapple upside down cake. I of course, brought my slammin' "Smack Yo Momma" Macaroni & Cheese. It was such a relief for both of us to not have to cook this year.

We all had a great time. We watched tapes of old music videos from the 90's all day. We ate and drank and ate some more. Philosophized and talked shit. You know how we get down.

Wayne and Oronde brought my little 9-month old baby cousin, Micaiah. Everyone fell in love with her. Especially Cranny. She's so cute.

I love my family. I love the sense that I have a family. A lot of people are not so fortunate. Yes, my family is a big ole' ball of crazy, but I love them just the same. My Uncle Cranny is so giving. He would give you the shirt off his back and be happy to do it. In fact, he gave my mother a set of $100 Bose earphones for no reason at all. These aren't just some old dollar store ear buds, these are Bose. You know, Cranny doesn't make a whole lot of money, and for him to give a gift like that is no small thing. That's love, y'all.

On the way back home, Mom and I had a relaxing drive back up to the 'burbs, listening to Gershwin the entire way up. Who does that?

This is how Thanksgiving is supposed to be, y'all. Blessed Be.
Happy Thanksgiving

Labels: Family, Food, Holidays, Life

I saw the most interesting thing on my way home tonight. I was driving through town because of some roadblock on the back roads. I passed one of the funeral homes in town and there must have been a viewing. There was a line of mourners down the street and around the block.

Down the street and around the block!

What I found amazing was that there were that many people lined up in the cold and rain to mourn the loss of one individual. Truly a testament to how many lives that person has touched. I sincerely hope that when I pass there are that many people to see me.

I wish that for myself. But I don't want people to mourn. Though at times my life has had it's share of misery, I've led a good life. I want people to celebrate my life, not mourn my death. I also want a New Orleans style jazz funeral procession.

Labels: Life

Normal is just ... boring.

Labels: Life, Philosophizing

The song playing in the Transformers movie when Bumble Bee picks up Sam and Mikaela and begins the car chase with Barricade is:

The Used - Pretty Handsome Awkward

Check out the Transformers Soundtrack on WALDOLand Music.

According to Google Analytics this is the #1 search term that gets you to WALDOLand.com

Labels: Movies, Music

The goddamn Towel Trick worked! I finally tried that shit on my XBox 360 and it worked! No more Red Ring of Death for me!

Dude, I'm back! I've been playing Call of Duty 3 for the last few hours. I'm so going out and buying Guitar Hero 3 now.

Labels: Games, Technology

My mother just called and told me that she accidentally spilled some toothpaste on the toilet paper and now her ass is minty fresh.

:|

What does one do with that information? I suppose it's desirable to have one's ass fresh, but minty fresh?

You know, I still can't turn on the TV without seeing Martha Stewart's fucking face. It was bad enough during all that insider trading horseshit. But now, she's still going at it full force. With lines of products in not only KMart AND Macy's stores, her commercials are freaking EVERYWHERE. I can't escape her. I will admit, I bought a set of her sheets, but it's because they were the brand that was in the store.

I so do not care if her name is on a product line. If anything, it will make me want to shop at your store even less if I see her.

Stinking media whore.

Labels: Rants, TV

I DVR'ed an episode of Manswers on Spike the other night. It came on at midnight and I was too tired to stay up and watch it. It had one segment that kind of piqued my interest. How Do You Take a Stripper Home?.

Hmmm. I wonder what that's like? I wonder if they had any advice that paralleled my own experience with strippers.

Well, I watched it last night and here is the outcome. Let's compare it to real life.

1. Go on the slow nights. Your goal is to become a regular.

   Yeah. I'll buy into that one. On a busy night, you're just another face in the crowd. On a slow night, you're more likely to get noticed. Although you run the risk of appearing like (and becoming) that lonely perv that's in the club every night, a.k.a. a stalker.

2. The first place you don't sit is the stage. Post up at the bar like it's a regular bar. The one way you're gonna get a stripper's attention is by really not giving her a ton of attention.

   I don't agree with this one. In a lot of local joints the stage is the bar so you can't avoid it. In the bigger places, only the bartender will notice you at the bar. Although the reasoning behind this one is more sound than the actual method. Giving a stripper ALL your attention is deadly. They will have you hooked. You will become addicted and they will run you dry. Once she has you hooked, she will know it and all you become to her is a money source. Once that happens, Game over. Now there is something to be said about playing hard to get. Feigning interest. Don't overdo it. Strippers can smell bullshit like a fart in a car.

3. Bring a chick with you. Any time a girl is around another girl, there's always a little bit of competition.

   I don't know about this one. Yes, it's true about the competition, but that's all women. First, where are you going to find a straight chick who will go to a strip club with you? Second, if you do find one, why aren't you banging her? Third, in my experience a stripper is more exited at the prospect of giving another chick a lapdance than you. They see horny guys all day. This move will not work to your advantage.

4. Don't tip the strippers. Strippers are in it for one thing: money. The moment that money changes hands, you're a source of income. You'll never be seen as anything else.

   That's partially true. Don't show your roll. Break out a few singles at a time. If a stripper sees that your money is long, then it's all said and done. Not tipping a stripper can lead to venomous consequences. In a big place like Delilah's, where a stripper can clear hundreds a night, they won't miss your couple dollars. In a dive joint, the strippers there are working hard for the money, so every dollar counts. Snubbing a stripper in these places will actually get you the opposite result. Bring enough money to make sure every stripper that comes around for a tip get some money. It's just respectful. If there's one that actually interests you, make it a point to have her come over to you to get a little something extra. She'll then start to recognize you and begin to engage you. Yes, it's to get more money from you, but it gets your foot in the door. This is your opportunity to start chatting her up.

5. Throw a party. Girls love to party, and these girls love to party.

   Yes, they do. All of them love to get lit. This is not a guarantee of anything, though. Don't think you're like the guy in the clip and just say, "Oh, I'm having a party," and walk out the door with them. Strippers are not likely to leave the club with you. If you're going to party with strippers, make an announcement. Set a date. Make an event out of it. Invite a few of them for a little fun. Don't be the only one there. You're more likely to end up with a stripper if you see her outside the club, than in. So the objective here is to get them to willingly interact with you outside the club. So a party is a good way to do it. Your friends will have fun, they will have fun, and most importantly, you will have fun.

Anyway, it doesn't seem like Spike has the ultimate answer to picking up strippers. It seems no one does. Ultimately, strippers are people, too. They have needs and wants just like the rest of us ... only adjusted. Contrary to what one might think, strippers are usually very sexually repressed. Either from some sexual trauma, or the fact that they grind in guys' laps all day. The likelihood is that they won't go home with you for a one night stand, though it does happen. The more you can see them outside the club, the more likely they are to see you as someone they might continue to see outside the club. My couple of tips should help to keep your game strong and continue to keep your money long.

Just so I can say I warned you, just be aware, you are taking a stripper home (or attempting, anyway). If you're the jealous type, this is not an adventure for you. You have to deal with strippers giving sexual attention to another guy. Also nearly every last one of them is crazy in some way (or many ways).

Other links:

• SpikeTV: How Do You Take a Stripper Home?
• wikiHow: How to Date a Stripper

Labels: Bars, Comedy, Hot Bitches, Life, Night life, Strip clubs, TV

Met the girls for lunch today, sans Jeff. We met up at Subway. Ordinarily, at Subway I usually get the same thing every time. It's pretty much the only thing I like there. I get a 12" roasted chicken breast sandwich on Italian Herbs & Cheese bread, with swiss cheese, Southwest sauce and nothing else. For some reason, I decided to get it toasted. Boy, what a mistake that was. I took a mediocre thing and made it worse. Yes, tasting it ensured it was hot. So hot in fact, that all the flavor just kind of evaporated. I bit into this sandwich and couldn't taste anything. I mean I knew there was food in my mouth, but what was the point?

Since I had gone to the bother of ordering it, and paying for it. I toughed it out. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't ... anything. I was too hungry to care.

Labels: Food, Work

I had the weirdest dream last night. Just an unnecessarily erotic dream. If you're offended by this kind of stuff, read no further.

OK, here goes. I don't quite remember the context of the dream, but I remember the setting was like the VIP room at a club. Only it was like after hours or something. Most of the people had gone home. The house lights had come up. There were about eight of us hanging around on couches while the staff cleaned up and shit. We were drinking red wine and talking shit. You know, philosophizing.

There was this girl. This hot little brunette with a very short, red cocktail dress. Very reminiscent of Jodi Lyn O'Keefe in Prison Break. She was on my arm, but I really didn't know her. She never said a word, but I knew she was mine.

So we're continuing to philosophize, when she subtly takes my left hand and places it on her inner thigh. I'm intrigued. I'm aroused. I break mid-sentence but no one seems to notice. I look at her longingly. She moves my hand farther up her creamy thigh and under her skirt. I look around to see who's noticing her behavior. No one seems to notice, but still I withdraw. She grabs my wrist. With steely eyes she fires me a piercing look. She doesn't care who's watching. This girl has balls of steel. I'm aroused even further. I go along.

I begin to finger this chick. I can feel how warm and silky her pussy was. She begins to moan. No one notices. I go deeper. She gets wet. She starts to writhe in ecstasy. God, I can feel that pussy even now. She quietly moans so that only I can hear. Still no one notices. People around me continue talking shit as if nothing's going on. How can these people not know? The excitement was palpable. The thrill of fingering this chick in front of all these people was incredible. I continued for an hour. I could feel her in my dream every minute of it.


Sounds like it's straight out of a supermarket romance novel, huh? Well that's how it went down. Damn, I got all hot and bothered just writing this. This dream was so intense. I could genuinely feel things. That kind of tactile response is pretty uncommon even in the most intensely erotic dreams. Kind of freaked me out a little bit, but in a good way. Kind of like in Hackers, when Angelina Jolie had the dream about Johnny Lee Miller, and woke up with a big smile on her face. She let out this moan. "Ohhhhh!" That's how I woke up.

I don't know where that came from, but it was great. I don't know what the hell prompted it, but damn that was a good dream.

Labels: Dreams, Hot Bitches, Insomnia

I caught a little bit of Battlestar Galactica: Razor on Monday night when I went with Dad to see American Gangster. Evidently, the IMAX theater in KoP was having some sneak preview. Dad and I snuck into the theater before and after American Gangster. Dad was all trying to convince me, "We'll come back and see it when we pay" I was like, "Fuck dat shit, puto!" I stuck around for a few.

Wouldn't you know it? Son of a bitch! Even in the theater, it's got fucking commercials!

Well, I won't reveal anything. I'm waiting for the SciFi premiere on the 24th.

Labels: Movies, TV

Saw American Gangster last night with Dad. A damn fine movie.

Denzel Washington was convincing as a ganster, but it was no Training Day.

It's very different than the movie I expected to see. I figured on a cavalcade of gangland violence and explosions. Though it was quite violent at points, the movie was much more philosophic than expected. To put it bluntly, Russell Crowe's character wasn't even aware of Frank Lucas until the last half hour of the movie.

Russell Crowe's North Jersey accent was hilarious. You could hear him slip back into his native tongue so many times during that movie.

I was happy to see Common in another movie. He really is a talented actor. I'm just waiting to see him in bigger roles. Not like this one where he played someone who was country as a chicken coop and only got a handful of lines.

I also saw my buddy, Chewie (Chiwetel Ejiofor) was also in that movie, playing Frank Lucas' country-ass brother, Huey. I like it when Chewie's in american roles, but I like it better when he plays his native British tongue. I just saw him last weekend in Kinky Boots for the first time. I remember Jen and I were supposed to go see that at the Colonial, but it ran out so fast we never got the chance.

I found an interesting symmetry having Clarence Williams III play Bumpy Johnson in this movie, having played Bub Hewlett in Hoodlum; a movie about Bumpy Johnson.

Labels: Movies

Had a lot of fun last night at Lucky Strike in Philadelphia.

YellowBook had a Internet Team outing last night. Every once in a while they like to get out of the office. Of course this happens to coincide with a release day, so we all could use the stress release.

Funny story about release day. My team and I went out to lunch yesterday. Jeff gets a call on his cell phone while we're in the restaurant. He doesn't recognize the number and assumes it's an unimportant call, so he ignores it. Shortly after, I get a call on my cell and I assume it's a recruiter. It so happens that it's the office desperately trying to get a hold of us. Something went wrong with the release. We got back to the office after lunch and walked into a total surprise melee. All this the day after Jeff made a big stink about everybody having our cellphone numbers. D'oh!

Anyway...

Busy day at work. Everyone was struggling to get out of the office in time to get down to Center City. Of course, I was like the last one because I had to make a playlist for on the way down. Something with some speed and aggression. If I'm going to be driving down the Schuylkill with the rest of the rush hour dumbasses, I'm going to need to channel my homicidal urges.

So I'm headed down 76 and it's pretty slow, as would be expected. Between Belmont and City it gets really slow. A goddamn U-Haul truck stalls out right in front of me in the left lane. Razzafrazzin brickafrikkin rat bastard summumabitch! After that silly shit, I get around him and make my way into the city. So now I get off the Vine St. Expressway at 15th street and I have the incessant gridlock to look forward to. People wonder why I don't want to work in the city.

Spending time looking for a place to park downtown is like masturbating with a cheese grater. It may be exciting and different for a minute, but ultimately painful. I didn't want to park in a garage. The prices are nuts. Although finding a spot on the street is almost futile. After taking a few circuits around City Hall, I made my way over to Chestnut Street in the hopes of finding a spot. Nevermind the fire truck right outside of Lucky Strike that traffic couldn't get around, what about the SEPTA bus stuck behind me, blocking the entire intersection at 13th and Chestnut? Once I got around the fire truck, I found a spot only a couple of blocks from the place. OK, so it was a loading zone, but you know what? The cost of a ticket would probably be about the same as parking in a garage, so fuck it.

I made my way into Lucky Strike, and it was kind of a cool joint. Multiple floors of bars/restaurants/bowling alleys. Swank. I saw that there was a private event on the second floor. That must be us. So I made my way up. Nope. Evidently it was an event for PhIMA. What the hell is PhIMA? I stuck my head in just to make sure. Guess who's there? Oh, shit. It's Gina. :) Before I can say boo, she swept me in and was showing me around. Guess who else is there? It's Desirea. :) They assumed I was there for PhIMA. I didn't even know what that was. It just so happened that not only were Des & Gina members, but so was Jeff's wife, Tara. Gina & Des introduced me. I told her that when Jeff comes home at night and goes, "That son of a ..." , that's me! (Just kidding) I hung around for a few minutes, but I really wasn't supposed to be there, so I politely excused myself and went and found my people.

My group was up on the third floor. Most everybody was there. Andy, James, Ilmer, Alex & Anton, Jeff, and Michelle were already there. Dessi and Tina showed up a little later than me. Tina encountered that same stalled out truck on 76. She must have been not too far behind me. So we're all chatting (and drinking). Having a good time. Andy ordered this moderately interesting-looking blue drink called a Lucky Strike. It looked like a big blue martini. You know me, I stuck to Yeunglings all night.

After a while we got food. The cuisine at Lucky Strike is kind of interesting. Pretty much what you'd find at like a Chili's or an Applebee's or something like that. But with a couple of twists. They serve breakfast there along with their dinner menu. Not usually two things you'd find together outside of a diner. They even have a breakfast burger, which is a burger topped with a fried egg. That's different.

So we're eating, drinking, chatting, having a good ole' time. We're all done eating and now let the bowling begin! We got two lanes for 10 people. Easy enough, right? God we had so much fun. And evidently a couple of us can actually bowl. James did really well. Alex was crushing pins. I'm glad he was on my team. It was only like his fifth time bowling ever. Ilmer and Dessi were beginners. We all were such cheerleaders for them.

As for myself, I stunk out loud. You know me. All form and no follow through. I use my classic four step drop. Of course I was only using a 14 pound ball, so I was throwing fastballs with zero control. Truly I needed a heavier ball. Once I slowed down my release, I regained some of that control. They actually had speedometers on the lanes and by far, I threw the fastest balls.

That's the cool thing about bowling. You can completely suck and still have fun.

Speaking of suck...Anton. Anton set a bad precedent by rolling a 9 in the first frame. From there, it was all downhill. Gutter, Gutter, Gutter, Gutter... Gutter. Hahah! The first game, he bowled a whopping 29, only to be beat out by quiet little Dessi (a first timer) in the 10th frame. Hehe. I told him the second game was the dignity game. I think his patented stumble-and-chuck method might have been holding him back.

About 9:00, the girls were done with their PhIMA event and came upstairs to join us in the lounge. I would have liked to have seen them bowl a few frames, but they just kind of hung out gabbing the rest of the night. I tore my self away from the lanes for a bit a couple of times and hung out with them until it was my turn again. I didn't want to let them feel neglected. :)

We wrapped up at about 11. We all kind of stumbled back to where we parked, seemingly all over the city. ;) James suggested the next outing be at Fogo de Chão, a Brazilian steakhouse across the street. I got back to my truck and sure enough, there was a ticket. Thirty bucks for parking in a loading zone. But you know what? It's still more preferable to parking in a garage, for about the same price.


So Lucky Strike was a great night. God that was fun. What did we learn?

1. Parking in Center City is like masturbating with a cheese grater
2. Yeungling is bowling fuel
3. PhIMA is the Philadelhpia Interactive Marketing Association
4. I met Jeff's wife, so I guess I learned something
5. I learned that Anton can't bowl worth squat, hehe
6. I learned that Tina and Michelle are a lot of fun. Put those two together and they're trouble. That's OK. I like trouble.
7. Ultimately, I learned that I really like the people I work with directly. They're a group of people that really like to have fun. We work hard and we play hard. Nobody's stuck up or a stick in the mud. That's important to me. These really are my kind of people.

Labels: Bars, Food, Life, Night life, Work

I really need to find that receipt for my XBox 360. I really want to play Ace Combat 6 and Guitar Hero III.

Right now I've still got the Red Ring of Death. The warranty extension from Micro$oft for soldering bullshit parts to the motherboard is still valid so I can still return it but dammit I need that receipt.

Labels: Games, Technology

The Heroes marathon continues. The 2nd season continues on G4 and I've been watching non stop. I don't know if I can only watch one episode a week starting Monday. Hehe.

Now, if Tawny Cypress was fine, Heroes is additionally enhanced with the addition of Dania Ramirez, playing Maya, a Guatemalan girl (though she's Dominican but sounds like she's straight up from the Bronx) who's power manifest when she becomes upset. She bleeds from the eyes and everyone around her begins to die. She cannot control it and the only thing that can stop it is her twin brother Alejandro. Y'all already know how hot Dania Ramirez is. God the hot women factor alone is enough to watch this show. Although, I don't necessarily like the fact that G4 took a poll of who's hotter, comparing Hayden Panettiere to Ali Larter. Not because they're both white, but because Hayden is like 16. Grown ass men are replying "She's so much hotter". Dude, she's a child! I could understand teenage boys, but not grown-ass men. The better poll question is Who's hotter: Tawny or Dania? Nice.

I really hope that she gets away from Sylar safely so that I can see more of her. Nice.

Hiro is so adorable. He's just so hard up. He's like a little Japanese teddy bear that can't get none.

Check out the Star Trek links to Heroes. First, Sulu, then Uhura, then the guy playing Sylar, Zachary Quinto, is going to play Spock in the forthcoming Star Trek XI movie. If you look at him, he is perfect to play the part of a young Lenny Nimoy. For now, he is doing a fantastic job as a sociopath. Show creator, Tim Kring discusses on the first live post show on G4 how it started as a cpmolete and total coincidence.

Here's a thought for people who have already seen season 1. If Simone Deveaux's father (Richard Roundtree) is part of this first generation of heroes that's slowly being revealed, shouldn't she have powers too? It's seems that these powers are hereditary. So the question is...Is she really dead?

Also, did anyone else notice that when Peter Petrelli had his vision of the evacuation at the end of this week's episode, that there was a billboard of Isaac Mendez' painting depicting the Muscle Mimic girl from New Orleans (Micah's cousin) in the background? If you look even closer several of the billboards in the scene were Isaac Mendez' paintings. You think that could be a clue? Hehe.

Something I've been missing. Why do they call Mr. Bennet H.R.G.? I haven't seen any scene where they tell me what that means or even anyone in the show call him that. Maybe I just missed it. Nevermind. I just caught it on the replay of the live post show on G4 as I'm writing this post. Stands for Horned Rimmed Glasses.

A side note to G4. Please get some more commercials. I've watched a total of 24 hours of G4 in the last two weeks, and they've only ever played like the same four commercials. Do you know how annoying that is? I'm starting to see them in my dreams now. G4 is now becoming my own personal Nightmare Man. Seriously, though.

Labels: Hot Bitches, Rants, TV