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Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Comic-Con 2006 Beymer Family Vacation


With the exception of the AVN awards, Comic-Con is my favorite annual social event. And since I couldn't plan our family vacation around Inari Vachs and Miko Tan, Comic-Con was the next best thing.

300 Days Ago
This pivotal conversation with my wife occurred over dinner one night.

WIFE - We should go on a family vacation next summer.
ME - Yep. Hmm. Where should we go?
WIFE - Someplace easy, since we'll be carrying around a two year old baby.
ME - Hmm. How about San Diego? They've got a zoo, lots of water, Seaworld, Lego Land...
WIFE - (Suspiciously) Maybe...
ME - ...great weather, nice restaurants...
WIFE - When do you want to go?
ME - Oh, I don't know..(pausing. Not sure how long to pause... Don't want wife to get suspicious. If I pause too long she'll figure out -)
WIFE - Why aren't you saying anything?
ME - Just off the top of my head, maybe July 19 through the 23rd?
WIFE - You fat bastard.

Journey to Con

  • Our first hurdle involved the family dog. We couldn't just leave her in the house with a bag of food, a gallon of water and a sheet of newspaper - at least, that's what my wife told me - so we needed to board her in a kennel. The idea of leaving the dog in a kennel for five days made my wife cry, but we managed to dump her there anyway.
    "See, it's a vacation for her, too." I said. This only made things worse. I might as well have taken her behind the shed with a shotgun like at the end of Old Yeller.


  • Arrived at the airport. Lugging suitcases, a car seat, a stroller, two backpacks and a two-year old across a hot, complicated parking lot. "Is this Hell?" I asked. A little voice answered "No, son. This is SFO."


  • It sucks being a tall, fat guy in the aisle seat of a cramped airplane. The airlines don't exactly design their seats with the "Exceptionally Girthed" individual in mind, and I'm accustomed to the look of horror on a passenger's face as I walk by their row. Looks of "Oh, please God. Don't let him sit next to me..."

    Once I settled into my aisle seat, I was treated to some guy struggling to get his luggage on the rack above me while boring his crotch into my face like I just paid him twenty dollars for a lap dance. I don't remember much else - something in his crotch poked me in the eye and temporarily blinded me, causing all further memories to repress.

    Hotel Breakfast

  • Went to breakfast downstairs with the other Comic-Con folks. One lady brought her own box of Life cereal and asked the waiter for nothing but a bowl and a carton of milk. I laughed and shook my head thinking "What a retard", then I opened the bill for my "Continental Breakfast", saw the $40 price tag and felt like Ned Beatty in Deliverance after the director pulled "Mountain Man Number One" off of him. Horrified, I looked up from the bill and saw the woman - milk dripping off her chin, a square of Life stuck to her bottom lip - laughing at me. I swear she was mouthing the words "What a retard." from behind her box of cereal.

    Comic-Con Bus Shuttle

  • We took a shuttle from the hotel to Comic-Con. The bus was filled with ComiCon attendees - felt like we were surrounded by that creepy family from The Hills Have Eyes.

    There was a 500 pound guy sitting in front of us. I smirked, pointed, and whispered some clever remark to my wife. She grabbed my spare tire and jiggled it. Point taken.


  • A man dressed in a Storm Trooper costume stood at the back of the bus, unable to sit. He said he wanted to sit down, but that it wouldn't be a pretty sight. I don't know what that means, and I don't EVER want to know what that means. He was staying at our hotel, and I'd seen him walking through the lobby earlier in full uniform.

    One of the shuttle passengers was giving this guy so much shit, I kept waiting for the Storm Trooper to shoot him like an uppity Ewok.

    "Dude," the guy said, "You should go down to the lobby in your costume, tie a towel around your waist, and complain that there's no hot water in your shower."

    I don't know why, but I found this so damned funny that I was crying. Funnier still was the fact that the Storm Trooper didn't get the joke. "I don't think Storm Troopers take showers in their uniforms." He said. Nice comeback. And I don't think Storm Troopers live in their mother's basement either. So put your helmet back on, dude.


  • Passed a homeless woman reading a newspaper on the sidewalk. Perusing Used Shopping Carts? Checking the stock market perhaps? Later, I saw her walking around Comic-Con as an attendee. I was wrong. She wasn't homeless, just hygienically impaired.

    Comic-Con

  • As I attempted to navigate my baby stroller through the massive crowds, I overheard this gem: "I can't believe people still bring their kids to this thing." Um, it's called Comic-Con, not Porni-Con.


  • Autograph Row contained such prominent theatrically trained thespians as Erin Gray, Richard Hatch and the Asian guy from Star Trek Voyager. I tried to get a photo of Marc Singer without paying for it, and he nearly went Beastmaster all over me. I thought I was going to get blindsided by an eagle and a couple ferrets.


  • As I wandered through the Convention Hall, I kept catching whiffs of something horrible in the air - like finding a bunch of rotten bananas on the kitchen counter that you forgot about, or a dead rat in the cupboard. If some of these guys would spend as much time with a bar of soap as they do with 20 sided dice, the experience would've been a lot more pleasant.


  • Carrie Fisher was signing autographs on the show floor. She really aged poorly. Doesn't look like Princess Leia at all - more like Vanessa Redgrave with spackle smeared all over her face.

    After the Con

  • Got drunk. Wife took off my leash for a few hours and allowed me to get sloshed with some friends while she and the baby hung out at the hotel. Too many pitchers, too many shots. Stumbled back to the hotel room holding a bladder full of beer. Philosophized with a pirate and slave Leia in the elevator to my room while trying to keep my bladder from rupturing. I must have been quite the conversationalist.

    Vacation verdict = Sweet Awesomeness. Hopefully I will be back in San Diego next July.
  • Monday, July 17, 2006

    Drunken Thoughts - Boo

  • MLB Commissioner Bud Selig addressed the current drug policy: "One reason fans are pouring into ballparks is they think we care and we're doing something about it."

    No, Bud. We know you don't care and we know you're not doing anything about it. The reason fans are still pouring into the seats is because they don't care. I do, but when I watch a sea of fans at the ballpark give Barry Beef-Roid a standing ovation, I realize that I'm in the minority. You're not going to do anything about it because:
    1) It's not profitable to get rid of the 'roids
    2) You're lazy.
    3) You're incompetent.

    Oh, and nice appearance at the All-Star game. So brave of you to approach the podium at home plate with the widow of Roberto Clemente. Like anyone's going to boo you while you're arm in arm with Roberto Clemente's widow. Shmuck. I'm going to spend the next month camped out in front of your home with a bullhorn. You can't miss me...I'll be the fat guy pissing on your lawn and yelling "Boooo".


  • I watched the Tyra Banks show on Wednesday night. She was preaching about how disgusting the "Girls Gone Wild" DVDs are and how they exploit women. While she moaned, I did a quick Google search on Tyra+Banks. Results:
    Nude, Nude, Nude and more Nude. If you're going to climb on top of that soapbox, sweetheart, you'd better cover up those melons first.


  • Paging Edison Force. Edison Force to the local video store please. How does a movie with stars like Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey and Justin Timberlake flop so badly that it debuts in a video store? Wait...Justin Timberlake? Scratch that. I just figured it out.

    This is Justin Timberlake's first dramatic role in a major motion picture - unless you count Southland Tales where he played an Iraq war vet. Yes, you read that correctly. I wonder who he beat out for the role of "Grizzled Iraq War Vet"? Cory Haim? Lance Bass?

    If you head over to Blockbuster right now, I'll bet there's still a copy of Edison Force on the shelf. It might be hard to find since it's wedged between 80 copies of Date Movie and Failure to Launch, but don't give up hope. I'm sure they shipped at least two copies to your local Blockbuster store.


  • 52 year old supermodel, Christie Brinkley, split with her fourth husband. Have you seen recent pictures of her? She still looks young. Four husbands later, I'm starting to get suspicious. Has she been walking the earth for the past 2000 years and keeping a low profile? Like that Twilight Zone episode where the guy keeps remarrying because he outlives all of his wives. Maybe?

    If Billy Joel is reading this, I'm sure he just sat forward in his rocker, pulled out his teeth and said, "I fucking knew it!"

    In about 200 years, Christie will break up with husband number 47, and marry Dick Clark.
  • Wednesday, July 12, 2006

    TV Gone Wrong - Star Trek

    In the late 1980s, Star Trek: The Next Generation began a long, successful run in syndication. Unfortunately, ratings in the first year were so low that the show was nearly cancelled. With only the most hardcore fans tuning in, the producers needed to broaden their scope in order to attract a larger audience. They had two ideas: Take the series in a whole new direction OR ask Jonathan Frakes to grow a beard. They chose the latter and the rest is history.

    Recently, a discovery was made in a garbage bin behind Paramount Studios - a torn, partially burned script. Upon closer inspection, it was determined that this was the script intended for the premiere episode of Season Two.

    Unfortunately, the producers had made so many notes and changes to the original that it was barely recognizable. Here is what was recovered, along with the producers' brainstorming ideas throughout the script. Enjoy.

    FADE IN:

    EXTERIOR SPACE ----- STARSHIP
    The U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701-D orbiting a planet.

    PICARD - (Voice Over) Captain's Log. Stardate 42353.7. The Enterprise has made contact with a new species. They have expressed interest in joining the Federation. The request has been transmitted to Starfleet Command and we are awaiting their orders.

    INTERIOR BRIDGE
    PICARD, TROI, RIKER, WORF and DATA are at their assigned duty stations.

    PICARD - Mr. Data, what is your evaluation of this new species?
    DATA - Captain, taking into account the many variables present and the inconsistency of -
    PICARD - Please, Mr. Data. Just give me your opinion.

    What is Data's opinion?
    a) This species is ready to join the Federation.
    b) This species is not ready.
    c) Picard would look better with an afro.
    d) Picard can visit the Holodeck, create a Picard hologram and go fuck himself.

    TROI - Captain, I sense great fear from this new species.
    PICARD - Explain.
    TROI - They do not understand us. Our technology is much more advanced than anything they've ever encountered. Would you like to hear my recommendation, Captain?

    Picard's response?
    a) "Yes of course, Counselor."
    b) "Not right now."
    c) "Can I give you a recommendation, Counselor? My quarters in ten minutes."

    DATA - Captain, I am detecting a ship de-cloaking off the starboard side. Klingon Bird of Prey sir.
    PICARD - De-Cloaking?
    DATA - Yes sir. It appears to be charging weapons.
    PICARD - Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Data. Raise Shields.
    DATA - Shields raised.
    PICARD - Okay, everybody...

    How does Picard finish his sentence?
    a) "Go to Yellow Alert."
    b) "Just remember that in the event of a water landing, the counselor's breasts can be used as a flotation device."
    c) "The last time I de-cloaked in front of someone I was getting my prostate examined."
    d) "I'll be in my quarters with a Tribble, some string and a tube of vaseline. Good luck."

    PICARD - Open a hailing frequency, Mr. Data.
    DATA - Hailing frequency open, Captain.
    PICARD - Thank you, Mr. Data. (loudly) Klingon vessel, this is Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. Please identify yourself and state your intentions.

    What are the de-cloaked ship's intentions?
    a) They want to destroy the Enterprise.
    b) They are exhibitionists.
    c) Worf forgot his lunch back on Klingon

    DATA - Captain, they do not appear to be answering.
    PICARD - Yes, I can see that Mr. Data. Any thoughts, Number One?
    RIKER - Maybe they're interested in the planet. They haven't fired on us. Yet.
    PICARD - Suggestions, Mr. Worf?

    What does Worf suggest?
    a) "I suggest we fire a warning shot, Captain.
    b) "Oh, so just because I'm a Klingon, I know what ALL the other Klingons are thinking, right? What, we all look the same to you?"
    c) "Get the Makeup Department to dry the sweat off my brow. Otherwise, this giant clay vagina glued to my forehead is going to slide right off."

    (Young Wesley Crusher walks onto the bridge)

    WESLEY - Captain, is there anything I can do to help.
    PICARD - No, Ensign. The situation is under control.
    WESLEY - Thank you, sir.
    PICARD - Oh, Wesley. Do you remember what I told you earlier?

    What did Picard tell Wesley Crusher earlier?
    a) "I appreciate your advice."
    b) "Here, you can use my toothbrush."
    c) "Stay off the bridge, asshole."

    DATA - Incoming transmission from Klingon ship, Captain.
    PICARD - On-screen.

    (The image of a Klingon warrior's face fills the screen)

    KLINGON - This planet is ours. You have no right to be here.
    PICARD - On the contrary, this planet wishes to join the Federation.
    KLINGON - (yelling) Kai-Bah! Gnock-sheck!
    PICARD - (turns to Worf) What is he saying?

    Translation?
    a) "Today is a good day to die."
    b) "Revenge is a dish best served with dipping sauce."
    c) "Holy crap! Look at the size of their counselor's fun bags!"

    - END OF SCRIPT -

    BONUS! Also discovered - notes from the producers' brainstorming sessions.

    Seven ways to improve the show and bring in a larger audience:

    1. Surround Patrick Stewart with real actors.

    2. Geordi's visor shoots optic blasts.

    3. This is a UPN show, right? Replace the entire cast with black actors, add a laugh track and stick it in the 8:30pm timeslot between Moesha and Homeboys From Outer Space.

    4. Data as a Pleasure Model.

    5. More guest stars
    a) Whoopi Goldberg as a brooding bartender that dispenses cute and valuable advice.
    b) Barry Bonds as an artificially enhanced human.
    c) Selma Hayak. No reason. I just like looking at her.

    6. Dancing Wookies

    7. The Enterprise gets caught in a Spacial Rift and is thrown to the far corner of the galaxy. They spend the entire series trying to get home in the - oh, wait. That's a terrible idea for a TV show.

    ---------

    This is also posted on Fanboy Planet in a much nicer format. This is also completely fabricated B.S. in case anybody just yelled out, "WTF!?"

    Drunken Thoughts - Competitive Eating




  • ESPN had their annual hot dog eating contest on July 4th. Morbid Obesity on parade. At least I had enough pride to keep my excess poundage confined to the sofa. These guys paraded their overflowing flesh all over ESPN like it was a badge of honor. I kept waiting for the hefty congregation behind the velvet ropes to hold up signs reading "Fat Pride", "No fat for oil," and "Nabisco Lied/ People Died."

    Here come the contestants: a bunch of fat, sweaty 400 pound behemoths and two Asians. Have you seen the Asian eaters? Kobayashi, the hot dog eating champion, can't weigh more than one of my legs. And yet, when he starts shoveling down food, he looks like Lance Burton making people disappear. Where does the food go? Supposedly, he's stretched out his stomach so much that it resembles a 13-gallon Hefty bag with no cinch strap. His vital organs were either removed or repositioned to allow the stomach size to increase. I figure his lungs are under his dick, his intestines wrap around his legs and his heart, liver and colon must be hanging out his ass like a bad hemorrhoid.

    "And they're off! Kobayashi gets a fast start and downs four hot dogs without even chewing. Bobo Big Butt is on hot dog number five, but needs a time-out for a shot of Insulin...."

    Don't get me wrong, I love this competition. I watched it and laughed along with everyone else. Only in a country this wealthy and prosperous can you broadcast Competitive Eating like it was the Superbowl.





  • Just to emphasize the fact that World Cup Soccer is nothing but a punchline to a bad global joke, the French showcased their best player on Sunday. France captain Zinedine Zidane headbutted some Italian in the chest, got ejected and was awarded the World Cup's Best Player Award. If you watch the video, it's like a sucker-punch: Like he mistook the guy's chest for a soccer ball with a clear path to the goal.

    My question is, why did he use his head? Why not punch the guy in the chest with his fist? It would have produced the same effect. I don't think these guys use their hands for anything. They're like Daniel Day Lewis from My Left Foot. Dude, it's okay to use your hands once in a while. What do you wipe your ass with? Your hair?





  • Something you thought you'd never read: There was a Baltimore Raven's stabbing that didn't involve Ray Lewis. This time it was linebacker Roderick Green. He's been in the NFL for three years, but with only one stabbing under his belt, he's still a rook.





  • A 62-year old woman gave birth to a boy in London. Some people might call this irresponsible and selfish. People like me, for instance. Especially since the mother is a child psychologist. A 62 year old child psychologist having a baby.

    Maybe being a child psychologist will come in handy when she has to explain the facts of life to her son. You know, the birds, the bees, the reason why he'll probably be spending his teenage years in an orphanage.

    And how awkward would one of those "When I was your age" speeches be? The kid can't relate to her hatred for indoor plumbing, television and electricity. She can remind him of the good ol' days when she had to squat over a hole in an outhouse with a lit match and a bunch of leaves, but he's not going to care.

    Oh well. Just take solace in the fact that he'll probably be changing your diapers by the time you've got him potty trained. I'm sure that will help the bonding process considerably.
  • Monday, July 3, 2006

    Drunken Thoughts - Next Stop, Inebriationville

  • Have you seen those Coors Light commercials with the Beer Train? They begin with a bunch of sweaty people standing around in the heat looking miserable and sticky. Then, we hear a whistle in the distance - a silver bullet train - and all the hot sticky people crane their necks to see it. As the train comes closer, we hear singing in the distance..

    "People all over the world, join hands..." All of a sudden, the train opens up. Beer cans are everywhere. People are drinking frost brewed beer. Inebriated happiness is all around them. Complete strangers are dry humping in the streets. Little children are shot-gunning 12 ounces of pure Rocky Mountain love. And....and...

    Wait. I've seen three versions of this commercial. Something about them gives me the creeps.

    Commercial Number One - A large group of men and women in business suits and dresses waiting on a commuter train. Where are they going? To work? Home? An AA meeting? Instead of their usual commuter train, the Coors Light Bullet Train rolls down the track and showers them with beer. Now you've got a bunch of drunk commuters in three-piece suits passed out on the train tracks in 100 degree weather. Nice.

    Commercial Number Two - A hot urban neighborhood getting killed by the mid-day sun. Here comes the Beer Train. You can hear the conductor: "Abusive, unemployed fathers, please line up for your 12-packs."

    Commercial Number Three - A construction site. Construction workers handling heavy machinery in blistering heat. What goes best with excessive heat and heavy machinery? Choo-Choo! Here comes the beer train!


  • Ready for the biggest shock of the week? CBS pulled the plug on their prime-time reality show "Tuesday Night Book Club" after only two episodes. Apparently, it was bringing in about 4 million viewers . In contrast, CSI reruns usually bring in over 11 million viewers.

    "Tuesday Night Book Club" may have only brought in 4 million viewers. But compared to the number of people watching World Cup Soccer, that's like the final episodes of MASH and Seinfeld combined.
    Did you know this show even existed? Here's the synopsis - "A reality show that follows the lives of book club members in Scottsdale, Arizona." The only thing less interesting than watching somebody read a book on TV is watching somebody talk about reading a book on TV.


  • NASA was set to launch a shuttle on Saturday. Scrubbed. Sunday? Scrubbed. Monday? Crack discovered in the external tank (no, not the good kind of crack).
    Would you ever go up in one of those things? NASA is actually considering launching it as-is. I know it's just a bunch of government employees' lives at stake, but they're still human aren't they?

    And why are we still launching old technology? Create something new, damn it. Better yet, privatize! The government needs to step in, take away the NASA funding and let Bill Gates, Steve Jobs or Larry Ellison have a crack at it. At least if there was some competition and (I know this word is like Kryptonite to government employees) ACCOUNTABILITY, then maybe we'd see less screws falling off on the launching pad and more shuttles actually getting off the planet.

    Plus it would be cool to watch Bill Gates' fleet of shuttles go to war with Steve Jobs' fleet after they've equipped them with lasers and photon torpedoes. Awesome.


  • Pregnant Britney Spears went naked for the cover of the August issue of Harper's Bizzare -er I mean Harper's Bazaar. Seen it. Didn't Demi already do that? Ironically, the words "487 Best New Ideas" are scrawled over her nakedness. Obviously, this isn't one of the 487.

    My take on the photo? Not hot. She looks like she smells funny. Dirty, but not good dirty. Dark hair. Kind of like the Demi Moore cover, but more like she got the big belly from eating too many moonpies and bonbons than from being inseminated. How do you go from being so freaking hot to so freaking mediocre? Is Federline THAT powerful? And if so, shouldn't he be locked away someplace?
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