I'M WALKING IN THE AIRRRR

So as a youngster, I always loved the book and movie "The Snowman". Absolutely one of the best things out there. There was never any dialogue, but the pictures where pretty amazing and the story while simple, is definitely worth a go. The movie takes it a step further with all the cool music. So this is my version of that awesome story.

COME AGAIN. YOUR NAME IS WHAT?

Names. Everyone has them. Some are cool, so are whatever, and some just make you wonder if people know the difference between a "name" and a "word". Now in all fairness, most people don't choose their names. Their parents do, and unfortunately in most cases it's the offspring of hippies that usually pay the price for this. However, sometimes people decide what they want to be called, and in those situations, it makes you wonder...do they really understand what they're doing or is a demon secretly possessing them and making them the laughing stock of the community by forcing them to pick a name like...

ENGELBERT HUMPERDINCK

Now if you're thinking of the famous 20th century German opera composer, you may be a little confused. I am talking about a one Arnold George Dorsey who CHOSE to change his name to the unfortunate Engelbert Humperdinck in an effort to launch his music career and become a sex bomb. I don't know about you, but choosing a name that conjures up images of wedgies, pre-pubescent awkwardness, and an all around aura of loser-ness doesn't exactly scream JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE of the '50's easy listening world, but then again...this guy actually was famous, so what the hell do I know.

BRUCE COCKBURN

Now here's a man who managed to rise above his very unfortunate birth name. While seemingly being destined to contract gonorrhea, this man actually managed to carve quite a successful career as a rock/folk guitarist. Now, whether or not groupies actively try to get on board and ride the "Cockburn" is another story entirely.

PILOT INSPEKTOR

Don't believe this is a real name? Well it is. This is what actor Jason Lee chose to name his son. Why? Because the name "Pilot" comes up in one of Lee's favorite songs by the band Granddaddy. Then why Inspektor? Who the hell knows. I have a sad feeling this kid is gonna grow up thinking those Female Body Inspector shirts is actually gonna help him get laid.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE...HU-MON?

Well it looks like I have been slacking even more now. I can't even keep up with my commitment to update this thing three times a week. The imagination sectors of my brain are a little dry and the mushrooms haven't been helping, so I don't know what to do. Oh well, I guess it comes when it comes. AND TODAY IT CAME! I was just thinking about these little things which annoy me in conversation. They're not really a big deal, but if it happens enough, it can be quite the bother.

WAIT, I JUST SAID THAT

Don't you hate it when you make a valid point or say something that is really cool/funny/awesome, but you just said it to a couple friends, then that friend repeats what you just said only at 100 decibels and then everyone else thinks HE'S the genius? This should be a crime against humanity. On par with the murder of Bambi's mother and the continual refusal to let the silly rabbit have some Trix. JUST GIVE THE DAMN RABBIT SOME TRIX ALREADY! He's been waiting to eat the stuff for the past 20 years now.

SO IT'S A TV SHOW, BUT IT HAS SLOTHS. HAVE YOU HEARD OF THIS SHOW? IT'S A TV SHOW, BUT IT HAS SLOTHS...

Okay, so not every one remembers stuff. That's cool. I forget stuff, too. It's not like there's a stenographer recording every conversation you've ever had with your friends and your friends go home and study the notes so as not to repeat themselves in the future. BUT....when your friends ask you if you've seen this show called FIREFLY and proceed to give you the synopsis and talk about how they made a movie called SERENITY based on the show FIREFLY for the tenth time over a period of the FOUR times we hung out (I hope this guy knows I'm talking about him right now), it can wear a little thin. On the outside I am politely saying, "Oh really? How intriguing." On the inside, I am quickly ripping my eyeballs out and stuffing them into my ears while slowly swallowing my tongue and cursing Athena for abandoning me during this time of suffering.

HMMM, I DON'T REMEMBER THIS, SO IT NEVER HAPPENED

...the worst of the casual hang out sins in my opinion. It seems like a very convenient way to wiggle your way out of something. After all, if you don't remember, you're not at fault right? WRONG. This just adds more fuel to my stenographer idea, so you better flex those memory muscles if you're gonna hang out with me. Saying you don't remember is just your way of committing the perfect crime. Keeping the Mario Kart 64 game I loaned you for the summer which you just so happened to "forget" about. Now it's six years later and I'm still pissed.

THIS WAS FUN..WELL SEE YA

So today, like any day really, I was thinking. Specifically I was thinking of the awkward dates I've been on and what exactly happened to make me feel very...uncomfortable. Now I know first dates, can easily be awkward, and to be fair to the other person, you've got to give it a couple dates before everyone is really able to be themselves. So since this is my blog, I'll just say that I am always awesome on dates and any awkwardness is a result of the awkward person I asked out on a date. I don't know about anyone else, but the following three really kill any buzz I may have going into a date. So in case there are any fine ladies looking to date the hot and eligible creator of Phlogger, you may want to take some notes.

EYE CONTACT

Eye contact is great. It let's the person talking know you're paying attention. It shows you're interested. Whether or not you actually are is a different story, but at least it appears that way. However too much and you come across as someone who is trying to make love with my eye balls. I want you to pay attention to me. Yes. But what I don't want is you peering into my soul and attempting to impregnate me with your hypnotic gaze.

PSYCHO ANALYSIS

If I want to understand what pain and heartache lies deep within by psyche, I'll just...well let's face it.. I'll just bury that deep down next to the day I confessed my love to Jenny Slade in 4th grade and the day I pissed my pants in front of her, which incidentally took place immediately after I confessed my love for her. What I don't want, is to be psycho analyzed on a first date. If I want psycho analysis, I'll eat a fortune cookie.

SHARING IS CARING

We just met. We're just one step above strangers. SO WHY THE HELL DON'T YOU GET YOUR OWN CHICKEN ALFREDO? Do I really need to say it? Sharing food on a date is pretty much rounding second base. You don't do it with just anyone. If I go on a dinner date, or any date that involves the consumption of food or drink, I expect to get my fill. The food is part of the date. I didn't just come just to have a conversation. I came for the WHOLE experience. If we're on a first date and you eat 1/3 of my pasta, that's pretty much a violation of my personal space. The only day I'll let that happen is the the day I finally cave in and say "I do".

YOUR NAME IS...

So it's been a few weeks since my last post. It's a combination of me having absolutely no ideas and the arrival of Halo:Reach, but HUZZAH, I am back for another post. Hopefully my one reader has remained loyal to my phlog.

Today I was just thinking of those little mistakes people can sometimes make in social settings. These things are completely common but can make many situations worse by not addressing them immediately. Today I would like to address NAME FORGETTING.

WE'VE MET BEFORE

Has this ever happened to you before. You extend a hand in friendship, politely introduce yourself, then the guy on the receiving end of the most polite and courteous introduction says, "We've actually met before. You know at BLAH BLAH BLAH." What an asshole. Obviously you are now flustered, and in panic mode, so you do what most normal people do to so save face. You say, "OH YEAH! Sure sure. Of course I remember." It's all total bull though. Well, after learning my lesson over the years, I now stay clear of the "Nice to meet you" greet unless I am totally sure I am meeting them for the first time. I use the "How's it going?" or "Good to see you". That way it leaves it open enough so that you can believably save yourself should the jerk you just introduced yourself to decide to play mind games and tell you that you were actually the best man at his wedding.

HEY....YOU.

So you're at this cool party of close friends. Like ten people or so. You know everyone, you are sure of that. But the hippie in the corner...what's her name? You remember her because one day you had the misfortune of hanging out with her on the one day she decided to wear shorts and share with the world what she has not been shaving. She's also vegan. What's up with that? Well in this situation, with such a small group, you have to tread carefully. You don't want to draw the most attention. Why? Because that makes it most likely that people are gonna be talking to you about other people. And what do you think will happen when they talk to you about the hippie and you talk of her as some girl you've never met? So you got to play this cool. What you should do is bring a friend over with you to the other corner of the room and offer to make drinks, then have her call out to different people and ask if they need more booze...chances are, she's gonna call out the hippie's name and you're gonna look like a gentlemen in front of Betty Sue, who's looking smokin' tonight. Now this won't always work so your other options are:

-Invent some game where everyone has to write their name on a piece of paper.

-If the person who's name you don't know has something that stands out about them eg. green hair. Ask "Who do you think has the greenest hair?"

-Talk about the person in question, but in a vague way so that the person who you are having the conversation with has to say the name of the person in question. For example

YOU: She's a total bore.
HOGARTH: Who?
You: She is.
Hogarth: Who is "she"?
You: You don't know her name? You're an asshole.
Hogarth: Sue?
You: No
Hogarth: Leroy?
You: No
Hogarth: Claire?
You: YES. CLAIRE.
Hogarth: Why is she a bore?
You: Hmm? What?

I AM (INSERT NAME HERE)

You're talking to Ruth and the conversation is going well. You guys are talking about bottle caps and jax(es?) and you thought the party couldn't get any wilder. Then Geena walks by and you hear her say "...Moonlight Sonata was one of Brahm's best pieces." Then you say to Ruth, "Geena is so stupid. We all know Vivaldi wrote Moonlight Sonata. What an idiot!" To which Ruth replies, "I am Geena". TWIST. So being quick on your feet you say, "That's right. You are Geena. Ruth is the dumb one." While you may think you're slick, your error is as obvious as the face a child makes when it's pooping in its pants. Well, this is a tough situation to get out of. At this point, just take it and realize that the hour you spent hitting on Ruth has gone down the toilet. I mean Geena.

THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE

Who doesn't know about Highlander? One of the coolest films of the 80's. This movie is as timeless as milk left out on a hot summer day. This movie has it all, action, romance, and Sean Connery. I can imagine the screen writer pitching the idea "It's about a group of immortals who kill each other until there is only one left remaining, and the best part....that guy gets a prize!" Awesome. I do have a couple gripes with the film, though. None of which are enough to make me not like it, but enough to bring me out of the film every now and then.

I AM CONNOR MACCLEOD

Why does Connor MacCleod not speak with a Scottish accent and instead sound like a prospector searching for gold. Whoever thought that having strep throat could replace having a Scottish accent is sorely mistaken. After all, the character IS Scottish. It's part of his whole back story. I mean, Arnold Schwarzengger sounds more Scottish than this guy.

I AM RAMIREZ

Okay, the one ACTUAL Scottish guy in this movie plays a Spaniard. Sean Connery, probably the only thing Scotland is known for, plays some Spanish dude. What's up with that? I do appreciate the fact that they give him a nice tan and made him wear eyeliner to make him seem more Spanish, but really...all we see is an unusually brown Sean Connery with eyeliner.

THE PRIZE

So the whole point of the movie is for these immortals to kill each other off till there is only one of them left, and that guy receives the coveted "prize". No one knows what the prize is except that only the last immortal standing will get it and that vying for the prize is the sole purpose of these immortals. So in your mind, when you hear that the reason for the existence of these immortals is to claim "the prize", you think "holy cow, that has got to be some amazing prize." Well hmmm...after becoming "The One", MacCleod does indeed get the prize of MORTALITY and TELEPATHY. Yes. Am I the only one who feels a little jipped here? The whole purpose of these immortals is to kill each other so that the last one alive can die of old age? Does this sound like a prize to you? And oh yes, don't forget about the ability to read people's minds. The two most useful and coveted abilities on earth.

I DEMAND SATISFACTION

After seeing the Expendables this weekend, I am compelled to write about Stallone's many other films, which for some reason, are not as popular as Rambo or Rocky. Now before you uncultured minds criticize the esteemed works of Stallone, remember this fact, He played two of the most iconic roles in film. Bruce Willis will forever be known for his stubborn refusal to die easily, and Schwarzenegger will always be remembered for his penchant for coming back at a later time. However, Stallone will always be known for single handedly taking down the Soviet Union with his boxing prowess and for rescuing forgotten POWs (also single handedly). What people don't know is that besides being the very personification of testosterone, Stallone also has a very soft and emotional side, which he demonstrates by ripping the arms of his opponents in arm wrestling matches.

OUR HERO EMERGES

Lincoln Hawks (Stallone) is a lonely and hard working trucker. Driven away from his wife and child by his rich and way-to-nosy father-in-law, Hawks now lives a lonely life as a trucker, till one day, he receives a letter from his dying wife to pick up his estranged son (of ten years), from his school (A military academy) and look after him for a while. Cue emotion. The son hates Hawks for abandoning him, not knowing the truth of the situation. So what does Hawks due to repair this rift, why he imparts his love for professional arm wrestling to his son. Who by the way, looks like Justin Beiber. So try, for a moment, imagine that Justin Beiber attends a military academy and competes in arm wrestling matches across the U.S.

FATHER AND SON

It is important to note that the mother dies during this period of bonding between Hawks and son. Which makes sense she was dying at the beginning but what doesn't make sense is why she would send her son AWAY during that period. Cue emotion. Hawks's father-in-law offers to pay Hawks 50 grand and give him a brand new semi truck if he would agree to give up his relationship with his son...ahh the father-in-law's grandson. Hawks says no because he has a full proof plan that would set him AND his son for life. The plan? Sell his current life blood, the semi-truck he owns NOW, use that money to enter an arm wrestling competition in Vegas (is there anything that CAN'T be done in Vegas?), win the competition, and then walk away with a cool prize of a 100 grand and a brand new semi. While doing this, he will also arm wrestle his way back into his son's heart. It is actually on his to-do list

OVER THE TOP

Hawks, alone in Vegas and competing at the National Professional Arm Wrestling Championships is visibly distressed. Having put everything on the line and realizing that all the dudes competing have arms bigger than Donald Trump's ego, he's not so sure he can win. On top of that, his 1980's Justin Beiber look alike son ran away. Why? One word. Emotion. Hawks starts losing his matches. One more and he'll be out of the competition with nothing but the clothes on his back. Just before his final match, his son returns. Thanks to arm wrestling (not to relationship building) Hawks has won his son over. Proceed to montage of Hawks decimating every opponent over a period of 6 mins. Hawks has won the money, the car, and Justin Bieber. As the two celebrate in front of the crowd, Hawks's father-in-law watches in approval as his son-in-law and grandson celebrate and now go off into the sunset to live the life of truckers together.