John Wayne Doesn't Wear Shorts

There are a lot of questions floating around these days concerning manhood. What does it mean to be a modern man? I find the very definition has changed since the days of our fathers. The alpha males have seemingly been neutered by a society that embraces Dancing with the Stars. What would John Wayne think if he were alive today?

I've used "the Dad Test" for many years to measure whether or not my actions were acceptable. The Dad Test is simple. Let's say, for instance, you're out rollerblading in the uptown district of your city while wearing a pair of aerodynamic spandex bike-shorts and you have a sudden epiphany that what you are currently engaging in might not exactly be masculine. So you use the Dad Test to determine if your fears are justified by asking yourself one simple question, "Can I picture my dad doing this?"

Growing up, my grandfather would tell me a story from time to time about a bar fight that he had during his days in the Navy. As I grew up I couldn't help but come to the conclusion that a bar fight is quite possibly the most masculine thing a young man can do. So naturally I added this to the list of things that I must do before I die, my very own Bucket List (everyone has one, right?). The fact that I lost the fight is not important. He was bigger and tougher than me. I was drunk. And he was swearing at a woman. That's all the justification I needed. Now if he had been smaller than me and I had lost, the shame would have eclipsed me for the rest of my life. It would be a cloud that I could never escape from.

Recently, though, I've thought that maybe I should raise the bar. Getting slapped with a large, wet fish (alive or dead) is perhaps the next rung on the ladder of masculinity. No, I'm not asking for someone to slap me with a fish. If the fish-slap occurs under premeditated circumstances it loses any and all validity. Perhaps I should move to a city that has an open air fish market.

I realize that during these trying times, alot of us have grown up with Full House-era Bob Saget-styled parenting. So if the Dad Test doesn't hold up for you because your father is a fairy, just call it the John Wayne Test. And if you're wondering, John Wayne doesn't have time to text you on his Blackberry because he's too busy kicking Chuck Norris' ass.

Teddy Picker by Arctic Monkeys

Slightly different from the studio version, this live outtake does well to showcase the band's incredible energy. If you like this track, check out all the songs from the bands second studio album Favourite Worst Nightmare as well as their website ArcticMonkeys.com.

Friday Dogfight

My grandfather always said that when he died he wanted to come back as a stud horse. I wouldn't mind coming back as this Rat Terrier.

Buzz

Buzz, a beautiful golden retriever, had been with the family for years. My brother-in-law, Steve, was his original owner. Every time he traveled up from Florida he'd bring Buzz along. Buzz was great with all three of Steve's children. He was just a wonderful dog. Steve more or less fell on hard times so the dog came up to North Carolina to live with Amy, my sister-in-law. Every time Bekki and I would go to visit her sister, there was Buzz.

Buzz was found in the ditch in front of Amy's house the other day with a gunshot wound to his hind leg. The vet said the .22 probably didn't kill him but made him incapable of crawling out of the wet, icy ditch where he more than likely froze to death. Some people out there think it's ok to shoot an animal for no good reason. Sadly, more people think this than you would think.

Squirts of Shame-Globs of Guilt

As many of you may already know, there's nothing I love more than playing videos games. So after purchasing the new Call of Duty: World at War, I have been starry-eyed at the possibilities. If they can make a video game about a WWII soldier then perhaps it's possible for me to finally kill a pixelated Sharon Tate with unborn fetus in tow in Charles Manson: Monsters in LA. Or I could decapitate that Japanese tourist in Terrorist Cell 3: Behind Enemy Lines.

Or perhaps we could all enjoy a slasher/adventure entitled John Holmes: Assassin in the Flesh. In this game, players maneuver porn-legend John Holmes' zombie corpse around Wonderland Avenue looking for the man or woman that gave him the AIDS virus which eventually took his life. In the meantime you get to shoot it out with drug pushers and pornography protesters. It would be damn hard to argue with 13 inches of justice.

This explosion of real life horrors being made into interactive games can only be seen as the progressive strides of mankind. What with pornography and virtual homicide so easily accessible, our vices are evolving into routine and accepted events rather than shady dealings that take place in darkened alleys. Now if we could only find a way to simulate shame and regret, we would never have to leave home.

Update

If this blog seems a tad sluggish recently, I apologize. My attention has been temporarily distracted by life. Bekki and I drove to Charlotte, NC Friday night for their monthly Poetry Slam. It was the first time I've ever been on stage in front of people (350+), so the fact that I tanked is shadowed by the fact that at least I didn't soil myself or run off stage screaming. Next time I'll actually practice.

We ran into Austin at Wal-Mart yesterday. I swear to God that his mother must've banned him from talking with us. She's done it before with the other neighbors. I've already got my cappuccino truffles, though, so I don't really care who won't talk to me. Oh, 410 pages into The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt. Never mind that it's 3 months later and my wife has devoured 3 800-pagers in the process.

I've also been tied up with training down at WNCW to host their volunteer ARC Overnight program. It's a different format from what they play during the day with mostly artsy underground music. That should be fun. All that and working 50 hours a week has preoccupied me. I apologize for my cyber-absence. I promise to write more when I'm unemployed.

Friday Dogfight

This is neither funny nor scandalous. It's just a Rat Terrier and a Pit Bull Terrier playing. If you like dogs, here's a 3 minute waste of your time.

Rollcall Revisited

The roster of rejects just doubled in size. Thanks to my quick-tempered wife for alerting me to the fact that there are a slew of characters here that DON'T have blogs of their own, but should enjoy an equal amount of tongue lashing. So enjoy.

Bekki Martin is my wife. Yes, we are married. Her last name remains her own because she's one of those uppity new age women who burn bras and take yoga. She also thinks my last name is a bit too ethnic. That's fine, but I'm still naming our first born son Lorenzo Leonardo. . .

Austin is the little red-headed neighbor boy who lives next door. He hasn't been over at all since the whole Chocolate Fiasco. Perhaps his mom came to the realization that it's a bit weird for a young boy to want to hang out with an older man and his wife. And just because I told him he had a real pretty mouth doesn't mean I want to sleep with him.

The Family for the moment consists of our three cats Blacky, Clementine and Jane. We also have a rat terrier named Ernie and a one year old chaweenie (dauschund-chihuahua mix) named Dixie. Every year Bekki and I get closer to having children but for some reason buy another dog instead.

I'd also like to big up Movin' Down the Road as well as our silent readers BMW, The Daily Soup and Shaikens. Oh, I've got this thing tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Rollcall

For those of you who are new to this blog, the names and events may seem to jumble together. So to avoid any further confusion I have written out a roster of recurring characters.

Prince Gomolvilas is a big-shot playwright from California. He's Asian and he's gay. There's not much more to say about him than that. After conversing with him on numerous occasions I've found him to be overly shallow and materialistic. $5 to anyone who can find a beating heart behind that cold and chiseled exterior.

Peter Varvel is more of Prince's attack dog than an actual side-kick. His humor is more sexually perverse, though he makes numerous religious references. This adds a slight paradoxical charm to an otherwise vicious and visceral man. He has a history with the theater and the performing arts, but, beware, he is an animal first and a homosexual second.

Quin Browne is the sensible side to the Prince and Peter triad of mayhem. She's a pretty captivating writer, but not actually a homosexual. To anyone reading, I'm not a homosexual either. For some reason queers just flock to my charm. I'm not sure why Quin flocks. Perhaps my charm applies to women as well, but my wife doesn't tend to think so.

Misty Harris is a Canadian journalist whose blog, Popcultini, is now seemingly defunct. Her style of riding on the glistening waves that pop culture pushes over the bloated corpses of the modern man is pure euphoria. Popcultini's passing will be felt by all.

I'd also like to big-up The Over-Thinker as well as Louise on the Left, RivaFlowz and Ziggy Za.

Culture Wars

It seems now more than ever our great nation has been divided. Divided by the election of the very man set to bring change and unity. It is completely irrelevant that this division is being caused by his detractors, because if Obama didn't want America to get raped he shouldn't have made her look so democratic. Now, in these waning days of Babylon, it seems we have an all out culture war on our hands. The Mormons are fighting Homosexuals, Wanda Sykes is fighting California, whites are fighting Barack Obama and I'm fighting the urge not to take to the streets with my loaded .22's. It is a strange and polarizing time we live in, but below I've constructed an easy to follow outline that clearly separate these warring factions so sides can be chosen fairly and definitively.

The Mormons vs. Homosexuals
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints believes that marriage should be between one man and as many women as possible. Homosexuals believe that Barbara Streisand is actually entertaining.

Wanda Sykes vs. California
Sykes, a strong black comedienne and now an outspoken homosexual, believes that Proposition 8 should be overturned. California, the highest populated state in the Union, now has the highest population of people who believe what Wanda Sykes does in the privacy of her own home is not only morally wrong but not nearly as funny as what she does in public.

Obama vs. Rural America
President-Elect Barack Obama believes that positive change can only be brought to America by unwavering unity and understanding. Rural white Americans believe that burning black effigies in their yards is a suitable reply.

So whether or not you side with the Mormons, a group who revere a man who claimed to have talked with God and then moved out West to practice polygamy or Wanda Sykes, a woman who reveres Barack Obama, a man who still claims that he is in no way a secret Muslim and will very shortly be moving to Washington DC to practice politics, let us ALL agree that our hidden prejudices and crippling fears are what makes us more than Republicans or Democrats, but Americans above all else.

Ye Olde Update

Well, I've been ranting and raving for a while about how Bekki and I ordered some chocolates from the neighbor-boy, Austin. I wrongly assumed that his momma had stolen the $9 to buy cigarettes or Willie had eaten the chocolates after coming home stoned. The other night Austin and his momma came over with the chocolates. They were cappuccino truffles. Pure Heaven.

I suppose the moral is 'Judge not lest ye be judged'. Back in Charleston we had an Atlanta Bread Company and a Yankee Candle Shop right next door to each other in this quaint little shopping area. I could never remember the name of either store so I inevitably ended up referring to both stores as Ye Old Yankee Bread Shop. I think the 'Ye' came from Ye Old Fashioned Ice Cream which was across town. I'm not quite sure.

Family Tradition Remix

I'm at a loss for words.



The back story.

Thank You

In a CNN interview Wednesday, President George W. Bush admitted that he had certain "regrets" concerning his presidency. Perhaps the president has forgotten about the 23% that still think he's doing a great job. His own self-criticism is a slap in the face to myself and other patriots who stand behind our commander in chief during these tough times of economic turmoil and political upheaval. How dare President Bush give an ounce of thought to his possible past indiscretions. There's an old saying in Charleston. I think it's in Washington, too. I know we use to say it in Charleston. It goes, "If you don't study your history, you'll repeat yourself. . . you'll repeat history. . . If you study history, you'll fail theology". I don't know, but the point is, history is overrated.

As infuriated as I was, I continued to read on. What distressed me most is that President Bush has completely ignored the fact that his admitted "blunders" have actually boosted our lagging economy. In the CNN interview, Bush expresses regret over the "Mission Accomplished" banner hanging aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln. Really? Do you realize how many Mission Impossible DVD's were sold after that? Plus it acted as free advertisement for Mission Impossible 3. Yes, Mission Impossible 3 was terrible, but I think we can all agree that it had more to do with Tom Cruise becoming riddled with dementia than Bush's public endorsement. Kudos to you, President Bush, for having the courage to stand behind Tom Cruise when others would not. (That's a shot at you, Spielberg!)

The interview also claims that Bush has mixed feelings concerning his remarks that Osama Bin Laden was "wanted dead or alive". You may have mixed feelings about this, Mr. Bush, but New Jersey thanks you. This allowed for Bon Jovi to steal the show during the Concert for New York City following the 9/11 terrorist attacks with their massive hits "Livin' on a Prayer" and, you guessed it, "Wanted Dead or Alive". Is it any wonder why Bon Jovi got a resurgence in popularity? So the next time you see those Stock Market numbers jump up like Michele Obama's ass in a Ludacris video, thank yourself, Mr. President. Thank yourself, because I already have.

Soy Breast Milk

For those of you who read this somewhat regularly, you may be aware that my vehicle died on me a few weeks back. Well, the long search for a new car is over. After getting a great deal from Johnny Car-salesman, I am now the proud owner of TWO Kia Rios.



There are a lot of choices these days when it comes to buying a car. There are also a lot of factors that weigh into the equation such as gas prices, green technology for the environment and the economy affecting loans and interest rates. I chose color. What screams America louder than a white sedan? George Wallace? Perhaps. But what confuses me is why "environmentalists" keep pushing these hybrid cars when they are obviously not fully committed to the cause. What may the cause be? Al Gore and the Liberati may lead you to believe that they're fighting for the well-being of the planet and all of its creatures. I get the feeling it's a bit more sinister than that.

Gasoline is an American tradition. Why are liberals so intent on destroying these cornerstones of American values? Perhaps they are all secret Muslims hell-bent on eradicating freedom. Maybe their mothers stopped breast-feeding them too early. Or just maybe they hate the sweet smelling aroma of petroleum and garbage that perfumes the modern-day watering holes we call gas stations. It may smell like shit to you, but to a plumber shit smells like profit.

Why do the Liberati push hybrids so much, anyways? Because electric cars are too expensive and the average Joe Sixpack can't possibly afford one? No, it's because they want to slowly lure you away from petroleum. The liberal automotive elite understand that Americans love gasoline. So they've teamed up with the liberal scientific elite to create a car that satisfies both the environmentalist and the real American. To me that just sounds like pandering. Don't test the waters, liberal (insert noun here) elite, just jump right in and feel that cold rush of regret wash over you. Go ahead and build that two door coupe that runs on rainbows and organic milk. When you do, though, that milk better be soy. If it's not, that's just insensitive to cows and the lactose intolerant.

The Emperor Has No Credit

-Or-

A Black Man, A Socialist and Joe the Plumber Walk Into A Bar. . .

Indeed, we should all be fearful now that the far left has grabbed the reins of this great country of ours. The election of Barack Obama is not only historical for being the first time a black man has held the office of president, but for being the first time the office has been held by a socialist. Even though the election is over, we must not give up the good fight, fellow comrades. If we allow our capitalistic ideals to be watered-down by tap-dancing liberals, where does this slippery slope of greased hardwood floors and stumbling shuffle hop steps end?

Now that the most tap-dancing-ish liberal of all, Barack Obama, has defeated what five years in Hanoi could not, are we headed for a Russo-Vietnamese style communist system? Joe Wurzelbacher, better known by his nom de plume Joe the Plumber, described Obama as an experienced and accomplished tap-dancer and "almost as good as Sammy Davis, Jr." Can we possibly survive as a nation when we're being run by light-loafered reds who want to replace the 3-count time step with the "one step closer to socialism" followed by a gancho and enchufla?

In the words of Joe the Plumber's parents who went on welfare twice during Joe's childhood, NO! Spreading the wealth is as un-American as race-mixing or gay marriage. But to those who embrace a changing America, the newly announced engagement of Gregory Hines and Sammy Davis, Jr. probably comes as a pleasant surprise especially considering the fact that both of them are dead. Just a friendly reminder, even though they're no longer living, like Obama, they are both definitely black. So as ballrooms across America morph into time-traveling Slip-n-Slides aimed at 1950's-styled McCarthyism, we can rest easy on the knowledge that at least in the 1950's gays couldn't marry and blacks had their own water fountains.

JoeThePlumber.com

We Won!

Don't Vote!

It seems every other blog is urging you to vote today. So in keeping with my outlaw persona I'm telling you to do the opposite. Why vote, anyways? So you can be lumped in with those Hollywood homosexuals? Real Americans march to the beat of their own drum. So don't vote simply because the media elite tell you to, instead do what I tell you to and abstain. How can we expect our kids to if we won't?

Vote Yes On Prop 8!

I've choked on my words for long enough concerning this Prop 8 abomination. How dare those liberal/trippy-hippy/homosexual/Californian-Jews try to push their yoga-taking/pill-popping/organic-food-eating agenda on hardworking Americans like myself. It is the small town values that honest Christians like Sarah Palin and, to a lesser extent, John McCain are trying to preserve. What this country needs is more small town values.

Barack Obama claims that us small town folks cling to guns and religion. Well, if that's what he thinks then he's probably right. But what's wrong with guns and religion? We're gonna need those guns when Obamas election sparks the race war prophesied in the Bible. Lord knows the Blacks, Asians and Latinos are all packing the heat, so why do the Jews in Washington insist on unarming law-abiding white citizens? That's the question you have to ask yourself come election day. And religion? Well, if Barack Obama views religion as a crutch that simple folk use to their advantage, I have one thing to say to him: You may win this election with your smooth talk and extended vocabulary, but you won't be standing in the winner's circle when the Rapture comes.

And guns and religion aren't the only things us small town folk cling to. We have a wide variety of extra-circular activities that include but are not limited to:

-smoking meth
-beating our wives
-making racist jokes
-drinking
-cashing unemployment checks
-rape
-smoking pot
-pawning our stuff
-pawning other people's stuff
-smoking more meth
-pedophilia
-and loitering

So the next time Obama and his secret Muslim buddies want to pigeon hold us small towners as simple one-dimensional hypocrites who preach acceptance but fear change, I've got one word for him: Jealous?

Mos Def '08

Mos Def uses a Star Wars analogy to announce his bid for presidency! Somewhere in America a nerd just had his first orgasm.