26.
.
WELCOME TO THE NEW AND IMPROVED
MAD SCORPION:
I thought I might start throwing pictures into the mix.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.
VERY Two Thousand Ten…
And can I just add… The fact THAT it’s Two-Thousand Ten is STILL weirding me out.
I might just be biased, but I do think being born in the seventies and growing up in the eighties is the coolest period to have come from. Although it’s probably a close tie with being born in the sixties and growing up in the seventies…
I mean… fuck the 90’s, and most of the 00’s too. What did they get?? Nirvana was the only great thing to come out of the 90's... The rest consisted of fluro and the Spice Girls...

YAWN...

.

SHORTLAND STREET:

Now has two straight-out, cold blooded Murderers in its core cast. That ain’t right!
Wow, who knew it was THAT EASY to knock off people that Fucked you off, or get away with running someone down while you were speeding…
But I have to admit… I’m quite liking it these days. I really wish I didn’t watch it, but… Home And Away is just Not Doing It for me these days.
Roll on the days of ‘Dark Valley’. The world is Long overdue for a completely over-the-top, giddily addictive, breakneck speed Trash Show.
Ooooh Yeeeaah.
.
FLASH FORWARD:

Dear Flash Forward,
What’s with having half the cast of 'Lost' in your show, huh???
You automatically put me off purely because I know I’ll get confused, what with BOTH SHOWS being about confusing timelines and sci-fi goodness…
What a STUPID idea.
.
TVNZ:

What’s with playing ‘Flash Forward’ and ‘Lost’ back-to-back, HUH???
What a stupid, STUPID idea.
.
MY NANA DORIS:
My Nana Doris was a character. Think of a less glamorous Dame Edna and you’re starting to get the idea.
With a head of flaming red hair and those… vulcan-eared, thick black rimmed glasses that Gary Larson always draws on the Mother characters, and loud, LOUD brightly coloured paisley or floral dresses, she was one of those quintessential Nana’s whose grandchildren are the centre of their universe. When I think of her, I am filled with the kind of love and… safety that only something like your Nana’s hugs could provide.
I was only 5 when she died. I don’t remember her voice anymore, or her idiosyncrasies, or flaws. But I’ll NEVER forget what she looked like. She was just Big. And Red. And Patterned.
And she made THE BEST Pav’s in town. Oh my god… those Pav’s…
You weren’t allowed ANYWHERE NEAR the kitchen when a Pav was in the oven, but she would ALWAYS make more than she needed to, just so she could make a few little mini Pav’s for me.
Yes, she was one of those Nana’s who feed up their grandchild on sugar before sending them home.
….Soooo much sugar…
She ALWAYS had lollies on hand, and the freezer was continuously loaded with ice cream and Fruju’s.
I remember the day she died… I was young, but I remember it. Clearly.
My mother came and picked me up from school, and I could tell something was wrong because she looked like she’d been crying. She took me to the park and we sat on a bench, and then she very quietly told me that Nana had had a heart attack. I suppose I didn’t really know what that meant, but I asked if she was ok. “No,” said Mum, crying. “She’s dead.”
And then I burst into tears, and we cried and cried together in the park.
I’ve been thinking of her a bit lately.
For all sorts of reasons, when I think of her I often wonder what Life might have been like for me, for my whole family, had she not died. It was obviously her time, but… I know for sure that a lot of the…not so pleasant forks in our roads would have been VEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRY different had Nana been around.
I’d like to think so anyway.
Those forks were obviously supposed to happen… cause they did. But I do sometimes think fondly of a time that never was.
I don’t know if it’s usual for people to wonder about the What If’s in ones life, but when I think of Nana, I do sometimes think What If…
She would have three more Grandchildren now, all girls. She would have loved that. Although she would have clashed with my cousin Kate, for sure, Haha. And my little sister Michael would still love her other Nana most (because she’s susceptible to her Father’s judgments about her Mother’s family).
But her and Amy would have been best friends. And me, of course. There’s no escaping the curse of Favouritist, Eldest And Only Grandson. It was a short lived curse, but one I liked being afflicted with.
Yeah, Nana would definitely have loved more Grandkids… It’s not fair at all that I’m the only one of the four of my generation that got to know her, even if only for a short time. I treasure those years that I got to have a Nana. The most perfect Nana in the entire universe…
Apparently she was a bit of a bitch, but hey… I was lucky enough to be her only grandkid, so of course she’ll always remain Perfect to me.
I miss ya Doris. You’re never forgotten.
.
ALIEN QUADRILOGY ON C4 OVER THE NEXT MONTH OF SUNDAYS?:

HELL YES!!! SIGN ME UP!!!
.
DEXTER:

Awesome. Loving it.
.
NIP / TUCK:
Has REALLY been cooking lately. It’s fuckin’ Awesome. Like, ‘Dexter’ Awesome. Not quite ‘Buffy’ Awesome,

but definitely Awesome.
.
HEATHER LOCKLEAR:

Has had waaaaaay too much plastic surgery. She should NOT have been watching ‘Nip / Tuck’.
Amanda Woodward and Michael Mancini do NOT a remake make (I mean they’re well in their fifties and their faces are just… tight. And Weird.) BUT… I am liking Melrose 2.0 suddenly. It seems to have kicked into gear a bit. I like breakneck speed. And Melrose was ALL about that. Bring it on.
But, as I suspected, the explanation of her return was… well, why don’t I just quote it.
For those who aren’t clued in, in the finale of Original Melrose, Amanda and Peter faked their deaths and ran away to the tropics to live on an island happily ever after.

WORST.

ENDING.

EVER.

Such a sad death for such a great show, but I digress.

SCENE: Michael Mancini comes home to his L.A. mansion to find Amanda Woodward waiting for him.
AMANDA: Well, haven’t you done well for yourself Doctor.
MICHAEL: Yeah, I’m a pretty amazing guy.
AMANDA: So, I hear Sydney got murdered, how bout that?
MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, real shock, sad… sad stuff, so anyway, when I saw you last you swore to never set foot in L.A. again, what’s the story? What happened to happy ever after in the tropics?
AMANDA: Oh yeah that. I got bored. I’m a city girl! And Peter? *shudders*
…
Good old Melrose. Quality writing as always.
.
CHRIS ISAAK:

I’ve always loved his music (weirdly) but today on 63 I saw the music video for ‘Two Hearts’, and in it he was playing a concert wearing a Mirrored-Panels Suit, a la Disco Ball… only a Suit!!!
How could such a glorious thing exist and me not know about it until only Today?!?!?
I don’t know either, but
I
WANT
ONE.
.
ANIKA MOA:
My friend Stephen “statused” on crackbook the other day –
“Does anyone else think Anika Moa’s new song ‘Running Through The Fire’ sounds like PJ Harvey, especially circa ‘Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea’?”
I had to agree, and had thought the very same thing when I heard it for the first time.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s an alright song. But… yeeeeeaaaaaaaaah. PJ’s sound was better. I hope the rest of Anika’s album isn’t a thin rip.
.
DUNEDIN:

How are ya mate? I do miss you so. I don’t miss your winter, or your tap water, but I do miss you.
.
JUSTIN BEIBER:
Ok. This is the one and only contribution I’m going to make to this… Frenzy.
EW.
YUCK.
MUSIC.
CRIME.
I’m already shaking my head in disgust about how cushy this boys life is gonna be ForEVER at only 16.
But I have to admit, I’m mildly surprised and impressed that he can actually play the guitar. Two reasons to hate him.
Here’s hoping he puts out something listenable and not for 12 year old girls in the rest of his career.
.
WHAT WAS I SAYING ABOUT COMEDY CENTRAL?:

I just saw an Ad saying that ‘Married With Children’ is gonna be playing soon… OH YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Problem Solved.
.

25.
.

As you can probably tell, I am writing this very sporadically these days.
I have been pushing my latest creation out to various production companies in the hopes that one of them will pick it up and turn it into a tv show. So I can finally live in the lap of luxury and buy lots of amazing massage gadgets to keep the endless pain at bay... JOY!
Here’s the 250 word “hook” I’m currently using to reel prospective producers in. Let me know what you think of it. Does it intrigue at all? Would you watch it?
…Actually, don’t answer that.
…
DARK VALLEY

-

A black dra-medy series set in rural, isolated, and eternally overcast Fern Valley, which lies in the shadow of Black Mountain. This shadow seems to seep into everyday lives, as though the Valley itself is cursed – the fact that it’s prone to natural disasters only adds muscle to the myth…
.

It revolves around the lives of teenager Baxter Black and his two distinctly different circles of friends – separated by class, but all of whom are girls.
One group are daughters of wealthy, locally important academics – uptight, judgmental, concerned about appearances and reputations. The other group is the polar opposite – crass, crude, creative, carefree, impulsive, and from down-to-earth, working class families.

.

While these kids live in a small, sleepy, pretty town, this is starkly contrasted by its dark, sinister conduct behind closed doors.
As they grow they are finding their once safe world a cold, dark place, and are constantly confronted with life-changing troubles – evils no-one should have to face, and with barely any parental support. In many cases, their predicaments are their parents…

.

Although the show will venture a lot into taboo, melodramatic, slightly supernatural, sometimes just impossibly unlikely territories as far as its storylines go, razor-sharp humour from protagonists and a rural, realistic setting will keep viewers grounded, connected, and not too overwhelmed by dark overtones.

.

The series begins as the characters return to the new school term and Baxter learns his lifelong friend Kate has died. Kate’s murder inquiry will turn all their worlds upside down…

.

.

.

NIGHTY NIGHT:
What a disturbing show! LOVING IT!
Only the British can pull of shit like this…
So wrong it’s Great.
Watch It.
.
COMEDY CENTRAL:
What has happened to this channel? Apart from a few gems dotted here and there, do we REALLY need an ongoing avalanche of quadruple re-runs of M*A*SH everyday??
I DON’T THINK SO.
.
OUT OF THIS WORLD:
Someone needs to make a remake of this show, don’t you agree?
If your memory is failing you (and trust me, unless you were a real TV kid like me, you really won’t remember this show, so don’t expect to), it was about a half-alien girl named Evie who talked to her father on another planet through a cube-phone and had a few amazing powers like time-freezing and materialisation. Ringing any bells?
Anyway, what an awesome concept. The actual show itself was very cheesy and low-budget, but the concept of this with today’s special effects standards would probably go off.
In fact… I’M gonna make THAT one of my projects.
… how DOES one go about rebooting someone else’s creation?...
I’m not so sure the same could be said about 'Small Wonder'… The girl robot in the red-and-white polka-dot dress who lived in her human brothers’ wardrobe?? Don’t ask. It was bad.
…I mean really… you gonna leave a pre-pubescent boy with his very own girl robot in his wardrobe every night and tell him its’ his Sister, so hands off??? Yeah… Good Luck with that one.
“Gee, her circuitry keeps getting clogged up with this… goo.”
No shit.
.
FLOWERS FROM MY GARDEN:
Last Sunday I decided to attack my overgrown flowerbed. The flowers had gone from bright pink blazing suns to looking like they were about to cough up their lungs and die from cancer. Time to go.
After I’d hacked and slashed, made it pretty and gathered the last few good flowers up, I decided I had too many and thought I would finally make good on my promise to drop in on Mrs. Goodin.
Mrs. Goodin, or Nana G as I’m instructed to call her but don’t, is my Uncle’s Wife’s Mother, or my Aunty’s mother to be more precise, and I see her a bit at family dinners and birthdays and such. She is getting on now, in her 80’s, but still very clear and onto it. The last time I saw her at one such dinner we realised we only lived round the corner from each other, and she made me promise to come and see her some time. Sure, sure, I said, and ten years ago I would never have made good on that promise, but now, as I get older and mortality really starts to set in, and if you’re someone like me who is in daily pain and can appreciate the sorts of daily pains that an old folk might be going through, I said it and meant it.
And it was with that in mind that I took the flowers, put them in a jar, and procedayseded to walk with my giant jar of pink flowers down the road, hoping it wasn’t going to be one of those days when everyone I know drives past me at once.
Mrs. G was home, I had a cup of tea and ate all her biscuits, and actually had a great afternoon with her! She can talk, but I found I was actually extremely interested in what she had to say. It was probably the first time I’d had an actual conversation with her that didn’t revolve around “Oh you’re home, where are you living these days, are you still in Wellington, what did you get for Christmas”… THOSE conversations. The automatic ones where you exchange required info quickly and then dive away.
She had very similar ideas to me on Politics and Religion, which REALLY surprised me. The woman basically believed in Karma, that the government was evil, that war was a horrible tragedy on mankind, etc etc. She certainly wasn’t the fascist racist old biddy that most white old woman around these parts tend to be.
In fact, I was there for about an hour and a half having an intelligent conversation about Politics, Religion and The Afterlife, which I have to admit, are very rare conversation topics in my life these days. I had a blast! And many sugary biscuits, which was great cause I was out of food that day. Yeah, actually out of food. I had to have just plain RICE for dinner that night, which I haven’t had to do in a REEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLY long time, but which, surprisingly, didn’t bother me all that much! Not that I’d want to do that every night, but… hey, some kids don’t eat at all, right?
But the issue of why half the world is obese and the other half is starving is a WHOLE other story…

After the visit I went to my work and mentioned my elderly visit with my workmate, who then joked

"Gee, TRYNA get into everyone's will!"

HA!!!

.

24.
.

HIPPO FETUSES:
It’s weird, but there’s an apricot tree on the corner of my street that has been dropping the last of its’ fruit on the footpath. The apricots rot in such a way that, I kid you not, make them look like a Hippopotamus has come along and emptied its’ egg sacks of fetuses.
Yes, I know they don’t come from eggs (…right?) but seriously. It’s quite disturbing to walk past that every morning, knowing full well that it’s just rotting fruit, and yet seeing dead hippo babies everywhere… Cereal. What is one supposed to DO with that image everyday…
.
NEW MELROSE PLACE:
How come the new cast is all 12?? Except, of course, for the washed-up has- been former residents who must be, like, 50 now. And with whom the new residents are all banging. Please. As IF Ashley Simpson-Wentz would be rooting old old Thomas Calabro. Mind you, he’s actually lookin’ pretty good for his age. I’m not looking forward to haggard, alkie beast Heather Locklears’ eventual “grand” entrance. Why oh why didn’t she just stay on her desert island with Peter. Ha! I hope they don’t even try and explain that away. Like they did with Sydney’s death/resurrection/murder. See, that should have been Amanda. Having Sydney back permanently would have RULED.
Anywho…
.
FUN WITH WINZ AND THE HEALTH SYSTEM:
I really, REALLY wish I didn’t have to have anything to do with either of these evil, EVIL systems. I believe I will eventually be able to cut free from them forever, but in the meantime, reluctantly, unfortunately, I need them.
My latest round of paperwork hoop jumping has been a long, drawn out process, but I’m determined to see it through to it’s conclusion. As opposed to giving it up, which is exactly what they want me to do.
It began when my Invalids Benefit expired and I had to go to my (relatively new) doctor and get it renewed.

The difference between the Invalids and the Sickness is this:
The Sickness benefit is designed for temporary sickness, and also designed to get you OFF it as soon as that sickness is over by being so low that you can’t really exist on it and are forced to go back to work.
The Invalids benefit is designed for people who are blind, can’t walk, or have an incapacitating birth defect that is likely to last longer than two years, and is just enough to exist on without accumulating further debt just from existing. If you get my drift.
Is my spine fucked? Yes. Have I had it forever? Yes. Is it going anywhere? No. Can it be fixed? No.
It’s all fairly to simple to me, but that’s because I have the “luxury” of living in this body and understanding what it can and can’t do. But I understand that to the outside world? I look fine. I stand, I walk, I talk, why can’t I stand behind a counter all day, all carry shit all day, or sit in a chair all day HMMM?
Because you can’t see the crushed nerves, or the cracking neck vertebrae’s, or the tension headaches, or the feeling of gravity itself being a problem, that your shoulders actually feel like the weight on your shoulders, and the answer to that is More Morphine you say??? And THEN I’ll be able to function in the real world??? Good one.
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh… ANYway…

.

As it turned out, the Carterton Medical Centre had recently come in for dinner at the restaurant I have a part time job at. When I asked my doctor for a renewal, he was surprised I was on it at all, and didn’t I work at the restaurant?
Having to explain my entire medical history with him, that the specialists have written me off as unfixable, that the pain clinic has talked a lot about help for me and followed through on nothing, that I only work part time hours during the quiet time of the day because my bosses are family friends and understand my position and very graciously give me those hours even though they should probably just close up instead, and that even those three hours a day leave me fucked, the doctor then signed off a form and gave it to Winz.
The form he signed said I probably wasn’t a candidate for the Invalids, but definitely for the Sickness.
What happens then is my pay is immediately reduced by $120 a week – over six grand a year. Not only that, I now have to go to the doctors and pay $40 every three months (maybe more, depending on what the doctor signs) so they can sign a form that says Yes, Scorpion’s back is still fucked.
So now, I am basically incoming less than my outgoings. Neat.
But you know, I’m not ungrateful. I’m glad to get something, and if I’m stuck on the sickness then so be it, but what frustrates me the most is the ignorant judgments about it, and, obviously, the stress of accumulating debt just by being alive isn’t great fun either, and oh, neat, stress actually inflames my back pain, hoorah! It also frustrates me that the whole system balances on the opinion of a doctor, which unfortunately has never been a consistent thing with me having moved up and down the country a bit, and differs from doctor to doctor anyway.
After that happened, I went to go back to my doctor only to learn he was away on holiday, sorry. Gee, nice for some. I decided to change doctors because a. the doctor simply wasn’t there, and b. the doctor I’d had wasn’t a great listener and his answer for everything was another pill.
The new doctor listened to my case, had a look at my x-rays and even asked if I could leave them behind for him to look at closely, he agreed with me, signed off some forms, and I went back to Winz with them.
Sidenote: Winz now have a new system. No-one gets a case manager anymore, they just get seen by whoever’s available. This, of course, works really well for consistency in ones case… insert blank fucked-off look here.
“But these forms are written by another doctor.”
“Yeah. My doctor was conveniently on holiday so I had to see someone else.”
“But this box here it says you’re working.”
“Yes, I have a part-time job.”
“But you can’t work on the Invalids.”
“If that’s true then why are you allowed to earn up to a hundred dollars?”
“Hmm, that is true…”
Eventually, after much discussion and me using big words like “CONTESTING PREVIOUS DECISION”, I was assigned another appointment by a – dreaded – designated doctor. In other words, a doctor hired by Winz whose job it is to say No to me.
Fine. Whatever. Sure, I’d love to get a bus to Greytown in 2 weeks time for your appointment.
“Hello Carterton Medical Centre. I need my x-rays back from doctor 2 please.”
“Oh I’m sorry, he’s away on holiday at the moment…”
Are you fuckin shitting me?? Is this a joke???
No. It really isn’t. And bitch receptionist couldn’t care less about my predicament. So I ring them. Every day for four days until I know that my x-rays are waiting at reception for me to pick them up. They finally are.
So, I’m finally seen by the new doctor – doctor 3, but who’s counting...

It's very obvious to me that doctor 3 has already made up his mind about me before he's even called out my name.
He doesn’t really look me in the eye when he’s talking to me, or while I’m talking to him, he doesn’t ask to see my back AT ALL, and even says No to my offer of looking at my x-rays.

And trust me, I was practically shoving the bag in his face. But no… doctor knows best, as always.
So after – I suspect vainly – explaining my situation to doctor 3, he asks me if I’m depressed.
I tell him I have been. That I have been at suicidal rock bottom before. That it totally sucked, and that I never want to go there again and that although I do get frustrated and down about my situation, I believe I’m on top of my depression and that that isn’t my biggest concern, and that I am actually trying to work towards a better future through writing and such, and that I try and keep busy by babysitting and writing, and that I don’t believe I’m suffering from uncontrollable depression.
….
The doctor then concludes that I’m suffering from depression and should be on medication, but if I don’t want to comply with that then he can’t force me.

...

Er... what??

I ask for him to be clearer.
He tells me I’m depressed, that I’m not on top of it, that he is offering me a way to get back into the work force but if I don’t want to take that up, then he can’t make me.
I ask him again, I’m not quite sure what he means, does he think that if I’m not depressed I’ll be more able to work?
He tells me I’m depressed and that he’s offering me a way out of that by counseling and medication, but he can’t force me to do it.
I leave somewhat confused, and not really sure that he’s assessed me adequately or in my favour at all, but I’m hardly surprised. I guess summarising a person’s physical condition doesn’t actually require a physical examination of any sort OR looking at x-rays…
But then I’m no doctor…
…
…
…
GRR.

23.

.

OUR NATIONAL GOVERNMENT:
My opinion?
UGH.
I cannot even begin to explain how fucked off with them I am... But I’m sure I’ll manage.
Dirty rotten irresponsible fuckbag cunts sorta scratches the surcace. I actually woke up angry with them this morning, enough to be writing this almost immediately.
I can’t say I’m surprised though. Just horrified.
Can you imagine 5000 hectares of National Park being dug up? They say they have reduced that number to 700 but trust me, once they’ve started, they won’t just stop at 700.
In fact they may even pretend to take up public consideration about the issue when the time comes, but this is a farce also. Like the ‘Wellywood’ issue at the moment – more on that later.
That’s one reason I hate the government at the moment.
A 40% tax cut (in fact, I think it may even be higher than that, I’m not 100% certain on that number) for the already extremely rich?? And infinitesimal tax breaks for the lower earners, that will be completely eaten PLUS SOME by a raise in GST anyway?
BULLSHIT.
That’s TWO reasons I hate the government right now.
Hmm, what else can I hate them about… Oh yeah, I read a stunning article on how it wants to pretty much nullify Maori Land ownership, and then have the iwi’s reapply and dole it out as it sees fit…
This one just actually leaves me speechless.
That’s three reasons I hate the government right now.
Surprisingly, I don’t hate all of what it’s doing with its benefit crackdowns at the moment, even though I am being given the complete runaround with my own.
The process remains the same, but the people you have to deal with change every step of the way just so you have to explain yourself a trillion times… much like the health system really.
I hate that the process only has so many boxes to fill, and asks nothing about a persons’ capabilities or pain levels… much like the strangers presented with your case every step of the way.
I hate that the last time I ended up ignoring my back I ended up in this situation, and I’m STILL back to thinking “Fuck this shit, maybe I should just work myself to the bone”, knowing full well that that will crank my pain up to Torturous so I’d have to be taking so much morphine I’d be almost dead anyway, take about three months to achieve tops, and that afterwards I’d be well and truly munted for life, purely because the process is such a fucking exercise in endurance and frustration that it makes you MAD. BAD MAD.
That’s four, FOUR reasons I hate the government right now.
What else can I hate them for, oh that’s right. How about we take even LESS care of our elderly than we currently do by taking away their (meager) discount travel cards and superannuation! That’s sounds like a top move, PLUS, it’s money they can give to THEMSELVES for things like free travel for themselves and families, free food, free accommodation, things like that. On top of their already stupendous salaries. That all sounds pretty fair, right? I mean you can TELL they’re working hard for their money because they’re all in such good shape!...
What a pack of major Fuckbags.
That’s five, FIVE reasons I HATE the government right now, AH HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Bitches.
Worst of all, they just get away with this shit because at the end of the day, they have final say, no matter what the country is saying, and mostly, they couldn’t care less anyway.
Fuck you John Key, and all those fat cunts whose necks actually burst out of their collars because they’re eating a third of the nations’ food supplies for dinner...
You’re all despicable.
Aaaaah, nothing like a good Vent in the morning…

.

A WELLYWOOD SIGN IN WELLINGTON:
For those of you overseas, Wellington Airport is planning on building a big white WELLYWOOD sign on the Mirimar Hills, so landing tourists can go “Ooh, cause they make films here TOO, I GET IT!”
Most of Wellington seems to be in agreement with me.
And my opinion?
Tacky. Unoriginal. Gross.
Hollywood sucks, Wellington doesn’t.
Wellington is in no way like Los Angeles.
Don’t do it.
And again, I think the airport is playing like the government.
Right now it’s saying “Come up with something better, or Wellywood stays.”
What a load of shit. That is the biggest placating tactic. It’s something you use on children to give them the illusion that they have some power over the situation.
“Do you want weet-bix or toast?”
“Gumboots or shoes?”
Of course I couldn’t care less which one they choose as long as they eat and have warm feet and in the end, I’ll end up with a fed, dressed kid just like I intended.
And that’s what the airport’s doing.
“Come up with something better, or Wellywood stays” is just an illusion of choice that is very soon going to be followed by
“Nothing was better than Wellywood so that’s what it’s going to be.”
Here’s hoping the first few waves of vandalism are enough to get it removed for good once it’s up.

.

RE-RUNS OF THE X FILES:
And my opinion?
Awesome. Right this moment I am watching Mulder and Scully kiss for the first time at midnight on New Years Eve 2000. Iconic TV moments like that are pretty cool to catch.

.

RE-RUNS OF BAYWATCH:
Ok. This one I’m actually ashamed of. BUT…
My opinion?
I gotta tell ya… I don’t know how it happened, but I’m hooked. Lately I have come to cranking up the volume whenever that AWESOME theme song starts – which has me wanting to take up the piano again just so I can play it at parties – and from then on in I’m sittin’ there with a stupid grin on my face actually feeling my brain melt out my ears…
Imagine being the guy who Ok’d the scripts! He was either a college graduate who hated his job, or a college student who LOVED it.
Ok, ok, Baywatch was hardly around for its amazing writing, but I can’t help noticing things like that. The other thing I notice is all the really bad 90’s swimwear. And, of course, all the hot bitches in it.
But man, it is mind-numbing beyond belief. Somehow they even manage to jam in at least three musical number montages to fill up the time as well. No wonder it was the biggest show of all time, it was a hypno-show. Like Everybody Loves Hypno-Toad.

.

RAT DOGS:

My street is full of Rat Dogs.

Seriously, every house from my house to the corner has at least one.

Despite the fact that I've been there for over a year now, they still hate me.

They wait for me, behind gates and bushes, until I am near, not approaching but NEAR, and then start yapping their stupid little heads off, usually making me shit my pants in the process.

Yes, despite the fact that I have been there for over a year now, I often forget they exist and am usually given a heart attack every time I leave the house.

I would lean over the gates and snap their little necks, but their owners are often around, chuckling at their "naughty little scamps" and their escapades... if only they knew that their dogs are actually posessed by demons. Then they wouldn't mind me murdering them.

.

THE POPE:
Gee, a cover up involving a priest molesting boys?
My opinion?
NOOOOOO.
I’m shocked…