Ann Coulter seems to be having some voting trouble... she's also a dude.

This is the funniest thing I've seen all week.

Just in case you missed this on the Daily Show, let me introduce you to my new favorite world leader, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi.

That's right folks, you may want to get your funny bone examined before Saturday as "Jesus is Magic" will be making it's local debut at the Kentucky Theater. So, if anyone needs to find me on Saturday at around midnight, now you know where you can.

Would someone PLEASE Git-R-Done?

I've spent a great deal of time researching this Larry the Cable Guy phenomenon and I've come to a few conclusions. First, fans of this guy are probably more dedicated to his act than anyone has ever been to any comic in recorded history. I'm not kidding... need proof? Here it is:

Now, THAT has to be a major contender for "most well thought-out tattoo in history."

So, I figured that I'd share with you a few pictures that I came across while doing a Google Image Search for Mr. Guy. Enjoy, and will someone please get me one of those prism thingies for my birthday?

I just included this guy because he seemed to really be Gittin' R Done... or at least that's what I think Gittin' R Done would look like.

In an unexpected turn of events I've managed to spend two consecutive nights in my living room, in the dark, with Yoshimura. The surprise attack of Eraserhead on Sunday night followed by the equally surprising arrival of a rather extensive collection of Stan Brakhage short films on Monday has proven entertaining and extremely enlightening.

I've long been a fan of film, I'd imagine at least since I got to see Return of the Jedi in the theater as a child. Like every other kid I loved the movies, especially ones cleverly targeted at my specific age group (let's face it folks, The Sandlot is awesome, that discussion is off the table). But it wasn't until I grew up a little and saw Pulp Fiction and Clerks that I began to realize how much I thoroughly enjoyed film, and how determined I was to see it all.

I've never had any film classes, never studied theory at USC or had stirring guest lectures at NYU. What I have managed to do is read nearly everything that I can get my hands on that points me in certain directions, turns me on to new things and then through the awesome power of Netflix and the DVD I can actually see these things in my own home. This brings me back to my original point... Stan Brakhage. There is no other time in my life where these films could or would have made sense to me. It's not for everyone, but if you find yourself wrapped up in what he's doing then you'll be there all night.

Even if you don't care for the man's work, it would be incredibly difficult not to appreciate the four short documentaries that come packaged in with the films, "Brackhage on Brakhage I-IV." In these he discusses his work, his life, his reactionary stance to Andy Warhol's "Factory" and his younger days with Jackson Pollock. In one especially interesting story he tells of the New York art society relocating for one night to a cabin in the woods to eyeball the latest efforts from Mr. Pollock.

As Pollock heard one critic mumbling about the importance of chance in his work he grew angry. In a drunken fury of swear words he pulled from behind him a brush and demanded the audience look to a doorknob on the other side of the room. With a whip of the brush a small drop of paint sailed across the room, hitting the knob dead-center. He turned back to his critics and said, "That's what I think of chance, now there's the fucking door."

Listening to that story really made me think about art in general. I've never been an art aficionado by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know what I enjoy. I enjoy museums, and I thoroughly enjoyed the two semesters of art history that I took in college. Unfortunately, compared to at least two of the people in my immediate circle of friends my art knowledge borders on that of your average potted plant (and that's just the individuals that I know of, for all I know I could be the absolute bottom rung of the totem pole). But I figured I'd try something a little different with Blogjammin' today and show off a few of the pieces that I actually really enjoy.

Don't run away just yet, it's only three... I swear.

First, we'll stick with the Abstract Impressionists. Mark Rothko's "Orange and Yellow" is just an absolutely beautiful and comforting piece. I was initially drawn to it while flipping through an art textbook and noticing it not for it's aesthetic quality, but because an original painting from a friend of mine that once hung over my bed appeared to be so strongly influenced by it. After looking into Rothko's other work I found many other pieces to be equally comforting, but why not stick with my first.


Next, the Neo-Dadists, and my favorite artist, Claes Oldenburg. It's difficult for me to say which of Oldenburg's works is my favorite, but "Soft Pay Telephone" seemed to be the most appropriate for this particular post. I absolutely love the use of simple materials to bend such common objects around one man's perspective, changing the appearance so drastically while still maintaining it's general form.

Finally, "Untitled" by Robert Rauschenberg. It seems as if Rauschenberg's work has had more of an influence on the people around me than I'd originally thought. Looking at some of the work put on display at this year's Millard L. Webb Film Festival frequently put me in the mindset of this painting in particular. However, don't deny yourself the pleasure of "Shades" or "Labor's Centennial."

So, there you go. I've talked about film, politics, society and now art. Just trying to branch out a little, cover some new things to keep you on your toes. I'd imagine that about ten people have made it this far into this post... and that may be generous. However, if you're still reading this then let me say thank you. I certainly appreciate it. After all, it's what blogging is all about, right... sharing ideas.

Well, I made the statement earlier today that if anyone had accurately picked the 2006 Final Four I'd rename my blog in his or her honor.

... Ladies and Gentlemen, Tim McKenna

Now, I have no way of knowing if the man in that picture is actually the Tim McKenna that created the soon-to-be-famous NCAA Tourney picks, but he's the only one that came up on a Google Image Search that looked like my cousin-in-law, Jack.

So here's to you Tim McKenna, and all of the Tim McKennas of the world. Because I can promise you right now that if my name was Tim McKenna... I'd be taking credit for it.

I don't know about you guys, but I sleep a little easier every night knowing that my government knows what's best for me. For example, charity and goodwill are only allowed to come from America-friendly (or more importantly, Bush friendly) nations. And, it's nice to know that despite the ever growing problem of global warming (anyone still trying to pretend that it's not happening is officially being moved into the "retarded" section), foreign oil dependency and ever-shrinking supplies of fossil fuels our government will still find a way to screw you over if you drive a hybrid vehicle.

Each day I draw closer to surrendering my sword to the idiots that stand on the doorstep.

Yet another weekend comes and goes with a bang... now we find ourselves back at work. Mine was quite nice, actually. I spent Friday evening with a collection of friends old and new eating chicken wings and talking about basketball (is anything really better than that?). At one point we realized that one of our tablemates not only wasn't a sports fan, but actually hadn't been born at the time that many of the games/teams/players we were discussing were doing their thing. Of course, there's only one polite thing to do in this situation, change the topic...

to old school hip-hop jams that came out largely before he was born.

You'll be happy to know that after great discussion a few truths were unearthed:

1. We probably knew the only two or three people in all of Appalachia that owned a South Central Cartel album.

2. Naughty By Nature actually had some good songs that weren't party jams.

3. Nothing gets a party started like some Naughty By Nature.

4. People either seem to love or hate Ant Banks... I hate him.

5. In the category of "Best Notorious BIG Song" the nominees are, "Machine Gun Funk," "Warning," and "ThatonesongthathedidwithBoneThugsNHarmonyonLifeAfterDeath."


Saturday brought mountains of excitement as we set out on a journey to Cincinnati to see the world's only remaining rock band, Oasis. Of course, when I'm excited about something I'm about as reasonable as a kid on Christmas Eve that just wants to open ooooooone present, so we set out on the road at just after noon to make an 8 o'clock show just up the road... we were late and missed the opening act (sorry Redwalls, we barely knew ye). There were some surprises in store for us, as there certainly are in any journey.

I ran into Blake Shelton in the bathroom. If it wasn't Blake Shelton it was a guy that looks just like what I remember Blake Shelton to look like... and he answered to Blake Shelton. Now, normally that would be a lock, but on a trip to Nassau once I ran into a man that claimed to be Danny Trejo but actually turned out to be Robert Davi, so anything is possible (yes, that's a true story, I have several witnesses).

Surprise number two, Oasis t-shirts were THIRTY DOLLARS. Now, I'm sorry, but I know how much it takes to make a t-shirt, and if Old Navy can sell them fifty for a quarter then would someone explain why one that simply says, "OASIS" on the chest needs to be THIRTY DOLLARS? Look, for thirty bucks I want Liam Gallagher to personally customize my shirt with a Bedazzler.

I danced in the aisles with a rather attractive blonde who, God bless her, was every bit as good of a dancer as I am. If you haven't seen me dance then let me assure you, that last line wasn't a compliment. As we both started to realize that we were really bad dancers we just slowly started doing the pogo. Feeling that we'd made the right choice we pogoed through the second half of a cover of "My Generation" and then nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

Of course, no trip to Cincinnati would be complete without a certain level of jackassery. And when you've got Kenny and Cory, a few cold beers and a thousands of people to make friends with, well, you know it's coming. Needless to say we strolled back to Vickie and Rachel's 2nd floor walkup with an army of slightly (or very) inebriated Oasis fans, leading them in a rousing version of the theme song to WKRP in Cincinnati... and from what I hear, it was a very dramatic rendition.

Switching gears for a second: if you're not cheering for George Mason at this point then you have no soul.


I can't imagine that anyone could have watched that game without going into hysterics. Shortly after the UCONN buzzer-beater to tie up the game, Kevin called to inform me that it was over, UCONN would destroy them in overtime. I feigned optimism, completely sure that he was right, luckily we both were wrong. I will say this, if anyone can show me a Final Four bracket that includes Florida, UCLA, LSU and George Mason I'll rename my blog in your honor.

Finally, closing out the weekend was my first viewing of the David Lynch classic, Eraserhead. As I had anticipated, the film really wasn't that great. It's largely what you'd expect, a "weird for the sake of weird" low budget first film from a man that would become a legend.

It's worth watching, but pretty much exclusively for academic reasons. It' nice to watch Lynch using shots and tricks in this film that would later turn into staples of his work, and it's easy to see how this film would really have created a buzz in it's initial release. Unfortunately, as with many films it just doesn't hold up with age. If you're interested in a clinic on photography, lighting and post-modernism then you may consider this the finest film you've ever seen... but if you're actually looking for a story or a mild level of entertainment the please just put the DVD down and slowly walk away.

Not that it sucks... just not my thing.

I'd like to preface this post by saying that it is not an attack on Duke or Gonzaga. As much as I may hate those teams, they both played excellent basketball this season and should be commended.

I remember reading earlier this season that this was the first year since the late sixties or early seventies (memory's a bit fuzzy) that the top two NCAA basketball stars were white dudes. Now, perhaps I should point out that if white dudes are going to behave in this manner then we need to bring the non-white dudes back as quickly as possible.


Come ON you PANSIES! Have you ever seen such weepy-eyed wussie boys in your life? The truly annoying part of the whole thing is when you realize that these two asshats will go on to careers in the NBA, swimming pools filled with money and an appearance on MTV Cribs. Meanwhile countless other guys have walked off of the court with dignity, head held high, proud of what they have accomplished. Perhaps these two darlings should take a cue from some of those guys that you've never heard of and now, never will.

Yesterday I found myself involved in a rather interesting conversation, the topic: who would play you in the film adaptation of your blog? Now, this has been on my mind (and on the minds of a few other people) for nearly 24 hours and I'm pleased to report that some fairly accurate casting decisions have been made. I now present to you a few of my choices and a few of some other people's choices for the cast of "Blogger: The Movie."

To clarify, you don't actually have to operate a blog to find yourself in the cast. You simply have to have commented on one, been mentioned in one or know someone that has one. So, essentially anyone in the world... this will be the mother of all films. If I missed your name, don't be offended. It's certainly not a slap in the face, but probably more of the "I haven't figured out who will play your part" kind of thing.

Drumroll please... here comes the cast!

Cory Graham: Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Of course I put myself first, and this may be the most accurate casting of the entire film.

Kevin Hall: Zach Braff. There were calls for Liev Schreiber, but I think that Braff is a fairly good Kevin... Schreiber was just too cool in The Sum of All Fears to play Kevin.

Vickie Charles: Amy Adams. Just imagine that voice from Junebug reading Vickie's Blog to you.

Sarah Fortney: Chloe Sevigny. There were votes for Rachel McAdams, but it just seems morally reprehensible to cast one of the stars of The Hot Chick.

Brinton Epperson: Christian Slater. Brinton demanded that he be played by Christian Slater... in hindsight I should have held out for Clive Owen or Denzel Washington.

Aaron Saylor: Chris Martin. Aaron may have gotten screwed on this one, being that we don't know whether or not Chris Martin can actually act, but it's worth a shot... heyyyy, maybe Blogger: The Movie could be a musical.

Cody Meadows: Mos Def. Just in case you think that's a stretch, get a mental picture of Cody (if you know him) and then click this.

Rachel Crowe: Sarah Silverman. It's entirely possible that Silverman may object to some of Rachel's dialogue, so we may need an understudy on this one... too bad Richard Pryor passed on.

Nathan Johnson: Chuck Norris. It's imperative that we have a big name in this film, one to draw in the crowds. Nobody packs 'em in like Walker.

Wendy... (sorry Wendy, can't remember your new last name): Kirsten Dunst. Although, with Wendy now in the running for mother of the year, perhpas I should have gone with Florence Henderson.

Miss Tayla: Jennifer Anistion. It'd be far easier to cast Miss Tayla if I actually knew her, but Aniston sells the girl next door look and could be a convincing left wing rebel in her jammies (Brinton, however, suggests Sheri Moon).

Late Entry: After some discussion Brinton sent me this picture, proving that Miss Tayla should be played by Sherri Moon. I guess there's really no denying it, so I retract my statement.

Pirate: Jack Black. The ever mysterious "Pirate" requires intensity and... uhm... black hair... and uhm... conservative viewpoints. We'll take two out of three.

Daxon Caudill: John Tuturro. In every single Cory Graham biopic Daxon has been cast as John Tuturro, no need to change things now.

Thus concludes the initial casting of Blogger: The Movie. Stay tuned next week for a new batch of actors and actresses playing the parts of you and the people that you know... kinda.

Remember the Alamo!

Well, the WVU season comes to a close in one of the most exciting 2nd halves of basketball you're likely to see all year. Unfortunately for the Mountaineers, this loss will mark the departure of one of the most talented senior classes in recent memory. Sure, they weren't as flashy as most... okay, they weren't as flashy as a trailer park... or maybe they were exactly as flashy as a trailer park. Either way, the NCAA equivalent to Home Interior decor will be leaving us this year as Kevin Pittsnogle, Mike Gansey, Patrick Beliein, Joe Herber and J.D. Collins all move on to other things. Some may make it to the NBA, some the CBA, some will buy giant car dealerships in the St. Albans area of Southwestern West Virginia, and one may likely make a strong run for the office of Governor. But, no matter where the future takes them they'll certainly always have a permanent place in the hearts of fans of a football school that, if only for a couple of seasons, really made the state proud.

They were really interesting characters. Kevin Pittsnogle, the giant perimeter shooter disguised as a center covered in tattoos and playing out the rest of the season for his newborn son. Mike Gansey, the quietest man in basketball history of whom a friend once remarked, "that guy could go 7 for 10 shooting from the parking lot." Patrick Beliein, a clutch player and often-overlooked talent that made being the coach's son acceptable. Joe Herber, a German scholar that maintained a 4.0 GPA and was openly puzzled by the lack of scholastic dedication in his teammates. Finally, J.D. Collins, the least famous of the five but quite possibly the most famous in West Virginia circles for loudly announcing how dangerous his "white boys" were on the court.

Losing five players with that kind of talent may very well knock the Mountaineers back a few paces in the next couple of seasons, that's to be expected. However, with Beliein's unorthodox coaching style and penchant for recruitment of players that everyone else seems to have overlooked we may find ourselves having this same discussion next year. I can only hope.

For the 2nd time this year folks, it's time to mess with Texas. Tipoff is at 9:40 tonight... brace yourself as the Mountaineers and Blue Devils draw ever closer to the greatest clash of good and evil mankind may have ever seen. Should both Duke and WVU win tonight the stage will be set for a Saturday meeting to rival the greatest conflicts of our time.

Let the Pittsnoggling begin... and we'll see you in the elite 8, Kevin and Miss Tayla!

Alright Vegans... I don't want to hear anymore about my destructive desire to eat meat. It has now been proven by none other than L. RON HUBBARD that tomatoes have emotions.

Can this man save the Democratic Party from itself in 2008?

Meet Brian Schweitzer, a plain talking, gun totin' Clinton appointee from Montana. He says what he means, wears work boots, speaks Arabic and was elected Democratic Governor of a state that John Kerry lost by 20 points.

I'm not quite ready to start putting up yard signs and buying up bumper stickers just yet, but this guy has "the real deal" written all over his face. His point is simple, that equal rights, reproductive rights, fiscal responsibility and truthfulness are liberal qualities... and those just happen to be the qualities of most of America.

Before you go writing off someone like that, remember that in 1990 most of America had never heard of a small-time governor from an little state like Arkansas... 16 years later his wife is trying to carry on his legacy.

The Herald-Leader is reporting that a body was found this morning hanging from a flagpole at the Winchester VFW. Anyone in the Winchester area with some information on this? Tina maybe?

For the record, I've been trying to update this week... blogger's being contrary.

I'll be back in the swing of things just as soon as I possibly can. I may try to write something at home tonight, that'll be fun for everyone. In the meantime, have a picture of Michael Savage doing what he does best... making an ass out of himself.

Just for fun today I thought I'd include my favorite lyrics of any song made last year. If you're not a Todd Snider fan then you're really missing out. Now, the last verse of the Ballad of the Kingsmen:

You know, every ten years or so our country and some other little country,
We start firing all of our newest weapons
At each other for some reason or another, right or wrong,
Like it or not, it happens, and when it happens
People get shot and when people get shot,
They show it on tv a lot every night at six o clock
And you don't even have to be eighteen to see it you don't even have to be in first grade,
First grade where they teach the kid pride
They tell him he'll need to thrive,
In a world where only the strong will survive,
So he's taught the art of more
To compare to and to keep score Monday thru Friday while
He stares at the floor til' Sunday they make him go to
School once more only this time they make him wear a suit and a tie
And listen to some guy who claims to know Where people go
When they die tell him that only the meek are gonna inherit the earth Well shit,
By this time the kid doesn't know what anything
Is worth, now brothers and sisters I am only one guy
And I don't even know the words to that song Louie,
Louie but I can tell you right now without batting an eye
That the next time some latchkey kid goes wrong
It aint gonna be cause that Eminem gets to say the word Fag in his song
And I'm not trying to preach to ya either,
I'm just trying to sing to ya too, you know string a few words together

Hey kids...
Lets get it on,
Lets get it on

Tournament action is in full effect in Lexington tonight as you can find me (along with many others) huddled up at Harry's or some other equally exciting place with cold beer and large televisions. If you're out drinking tonight, have a designated driver, don't overdo it, and all that crap... but more importantly, don't drink any green beer!

Really, I'm serious... it's gross. Don't do it.

Which brings me to wishing a happy St. Patrick's Day to each and every one of you. Tonight is the one night of the year when we celebrate our love for the Irish by thrusting ourselves face-first into stereotype. We tell the Irish how much we care by putting on ludicrous green sweaters, talking like leprechauns and out drinking Henry Earl. Should the Irish be offended... well, when they stop doing those things on the other 364 days we'll talk.

So while you're out on the town tonight, take these few words of advice:

Drink plenty of water before (and during) your booze binge, you'll thank yourself in the morning.

If the room starts spinning while you're in bed, put one foot on the floor to even things out.

If you wake up with a total stranger, it's best to sneak out through the bedroom window, as you don't know if parents, spouses or children may lurk on the other side of the door.

Don't start drinking Irish Car Bombs just to be "Irish for the Day." They start off like a great idea, until you find yourself awake on your girlfriend's couch wondering exactly how in the hell you got there from the bar.

And finally... don't drink any green beer. Seriously... don't do it, it's gross.

On that note, I hope you all have a happy and productive St. Patrick's Day weekend and don't forget about the Millard L. Webb Film Festival taking place Saturday and Sunday at Meadows Manor from noon to noon. Hope to see you there!

Happy Birthday to Brinton... it's not actually his birthday just yet, but I may not have time to update tomorrow, so there it is.

The celebration of his thirty-first year on the planet was held at the Gabbard Household last night, participants were treated to a delicious meatloaf and some remarkable mashed potatoes... a good time was had by all. As with any trip to the Gabbard's, a life lesson will undoubtedly be learned... last night's: AC/DC doesn't seem to be an effective lullaby.


In other news, the NCAA Tournament kicks up properly this afternoon... LET THE PITTSNOGGLING BEGIN! Between the first two rounds of the tournament and the Millard L. Webb Film Festival I plan on doing nothing but watching things until my eyes permanently cross. For those interested, I suspect that Aaron and I will end up at Harry's on Friday around 130 PM or so, and we'll probably remain there (or somewhere close) until very, very late. Give us a call, stop by, cheer for whomever happens to be on television at the time. WOOO HOOO!

Presidential RAGE Unleashed!!

President Bush met Tuesday with Autistic basketball star Jason McElwain in his home state of New York to discuss overcoming diversity with the inspirational high school student. The meeting began as a typical presidential meet-and-greet affair, but quickly turned ugly during a discussion of the seeding of The University of Texas Longhorns in the 2006 Men's NCAA Tournament.

Bush, apparently feeling that the No. 2 seed offered to The 'Horns this March was unfair, lashed out at the boy, taking off his head in one fluid motion. Bush then planted the head on a spike, carrying it around the airport as a warning not only to "evil doers," but "Sooners fans and A&M pussies."

The development sent shockwaves through the White House Press Corps and lit up the major news affiliates for sometimes as much as three minutes at a time. "We were expecting it, really" said veteran White House correspondent Helen Thomas of the Boston Globe, "It started with Cheney shooting that older gentleman in the face, and now this. The frightening part isn't what we know, but what we don't know. Personally I'd like a full investigation of the crawlspace under [Secretary of Defense] Donald Rumsfeld's house."

Of course, Republican pundits were quick to weigh in on the president's controversial decision to decapitate a bright-eyed autistic boy. Rush Limbaugh quickly defined the controversy as "ludicrous" and "blown totally out of proportion." "Y'know," Limbaugh said, "these lefties, commies, flag burners, Christ-punchers, whatever you call 'em... they're just looking for issues now. Am I the only red-blooded, flag waving AMERICAN that supports my president's decision to take out a danger like McElwain?"

Early reports in both the Washington Times and New York Post are reporting alleged ties between the McElwain Family and Islamic Fundamentalist Terror Cells operating within the United States. Stay with Blogjammin for further updates on this developing story.

The field has been announced, and all across the country people are scratching their heads, burning up erasers and trying to figure out what's so damn special about the Missouri Valley Conference.
This time of the year is really something special. For many sports fans, this is the event of the year. Sixty-five teams beating on each other for a few weeks trying desperately to be the last man standing... and as amazing as it is, one team will actually win six in a row and take home the title.

Starting Thursday history will be made. Cinderella teams will emerge from obscurity to end the season for major conference powerhouses. An 18 year old kid will be a hero, and a veteran senior will play his last game. Jim Valvano will run around on the court, Christian Laettner will hit the last second shot and Chris Webber will use one timeout too many.

Your favorite team probably won't win.

But that's what makes it exciting. There's a very clear-cut reason why we love the NCAA Tournament, drama. It's the NCAA tournament that has introduced words like Gonzaga, IUPUI and Pittsnoggle into our national vocabulary (ok, only the people I know use IUPUI... and it's pronounced "ooh-ey-pooh-ey"). It's the NCAA Tournament that gets the attention of even the most casual sports fan, or those that simply aren't.

So, I've started a bracket pool online (as I do every year). It doesn't cost a thing to join, and there's no money to be won... just pride. Anyone that reads this is not only invited to join but encouraged to! Just follow this link, and input ID# 65217 and password blogjam. I hope to see you on the list.

I'll come with the obligatory NCAA Tournament post momentarily, but first a few insights into insomnia. Lately I've found myself having a little trouble sleeping. It's certainly not reaching crisis level just yet, so I'm enjoying being treated to the kind of television entertainment that you only see between the hours of 3-5 AM.

For example, sometime around 3:30 this morning one of the music video channels dusted off Ice Cube's "It Was A Good Day." Great song that inspired me to dig the album out of my personal vault and get my gangsta on while driving to work. Of course, for me getting my gangsta on isn't really that different from getting my anything else on. I'd forgotten good that album (The Predator) really is, and also how angry it is from start to finish. Ice Cube takes the lives of more white people on that record than WWII... which is fine really, because most of the white people in question weren't offering up much to society anyway (would anyone miss Darryl Gates?).

Around 4:00 AM I managed to catch some footage of Ohio State University's wrestling champion taking on a black bear in a no-holds barred match in Cleveland. From the look of the crowd he was surrounded by several hundred cheering fans, whether they were cheering for Mr. Wrestler or the bear was hard to tell. Of course, PETA came to the rescue, charging that this type of event was humiliating for the bear. Let me tell you something, if you're one of several hundred people watching a man wrestle a bear in the middle of the afternoon in Cleveland, the bear should be the only person in the room that ISN'T humiliated.

As a side note, I'd recommend NOT doing a Google Image Search for "bear wrestling," as the term "bear wrestling" apparently has a very specific meaning in the gay community.

Finally, what evening/early morning spent in front of the television would be complete without an ad for the Girls Gone Wild video series? Unfortunately, I've noticed a shocking new trend with this particular piece of American Culture... ringers! These modern GGW videos are taking what appear to be strippers and sending them on wacky (and very bouncy) adventures. Now, I guess the case that these particular drunk girls fighting for attention are as good as any others, and I can see that. However, GGW is like the Olympics of drunk girls fighting for attention. They start at the amateur level in high school, then move up a level to frat parties and Kid Rock concerts, then the chosen few reach that pinnacle of attention-whoring... A Girls Gone Wild Video. If you ask me, letting professionals in just cheapens the sport for us all.

Ok. Two points of order...

1. The art exhibits for the Millard L. Webb Film Festival are going to be due one week from today... so if I've spoken to you about getting a piece in the festival PLEASE get in touch with me via email or cell. My email address is grahamcory@bellsouth.net, if you need my phone number then just ask someone, I'm a bit hesitant to put that out on the internet.

2. Rachel's Birthday Extravaganza will be tomorrow night at Cody's place on Fife Lick. I can't imagine that you'd need directions, but if you do then click here. The shin-dig will kick up around eight... or as Brinton wrote, "whenever the average BAC hits .12%."

I hope that everyone can make it, and PLEASE get with me on those submissions. Email, phone, or just catch me on Saturday night and we'll work out a drop off schedule.

Be excited, be very excited... it's the trailer for Robert Altman and Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion! Amazing cast, nice looking trailer, what more could you ask for? My current favorite line of the year is, "you should lay off the chocolate... and the sex with men."

Regal Theater Blows.

So far the angry comments directed at the theater have resulted in canned form letters informing us that they've contacted someone else. Both Brinton and I received this one:

Dear Mr. Epperson [or Graham]:

Thank you for contacting our office to express your concerns regarding your visit to our Hamburg Pavilion Stadium 16 location. We are always interested in hearing from our customers, but regret the circumstances that prompted your comments. I have forwarded your comments to the district manager and the theatre manager for their review and any corrective measures necessary.

One of our major goals for all Regal Entertainment Group theatres is to provide an environment where our patrons can enjoy the latest movie releases in a sparkling clean facility. We want to give you high quality sound and picture presentation with excellent customer service. From your comments, we failed to meet all of our goals on this visit. Please accept our sincere apologies.

Once again, I thank you for taking the time to contact us regarding your visit to our Hamburg Pavilion Stadium 16. We value your patronage and look forward to your next visit.

Brinton also made sure to remind me of something that I had pushed out of my mind. When I watched Brokeback Mountain a week or so before the Block Party incident I was swarmed by ushers throughout the film. Try to imagine yourself watching a movie, trying to really get into what's going on, and then every 20 minutes or so someone walks through with a giant flashlight (with an orange cone resting on top... i guess that's to make it less distracting). For the record, Brinton's wife Tina says that the torment was much worse when she watched Brokeback, citing an endless stream of ushers patrolling the theater.

What were they looking for!? Did Regal mistakenly get a memo informing them that Brokeback Mountain was gay porn? Were they expecting hot sex in the aisles? What is going on with this theater!?

And for the record, Mr. Regal, you can look forward to my next visit as much as you'd like... but it won't be any time soon.

New Year's Day has come and gone, Valentine's Day has made it's rounds and soon St. Patrick's Day will be nothing more than a hangover blur. With that in mind I suggest that we all begin to prepare for Easter. Now, Easter is of course an extremely important holiday for Christians around the world. It represents the day in which Jesus Christ was liberated from his tomb by a giant bunny, then his resurrected body distributed brightly colored eggs to the children of the world. As important as that historical fact may be, let's not forget the one reason to keep Easter in our hearts and minds year round.

PEEPS!

Nothing goes more beautifully hand-in-hand with a holiday than Easter does with those spectacular little yellow birds. To be honest, as a kid I really was just in it for the Peeps. The Easter Bunny, I'll play along, resurrection of my lord and savior, that's pretty good... but when do we get to the freakin' PEEPS!?

For those of you somehow unfamiliar with Peeps, allow me to enlighten you. Peeps were originally created by the Rodda Candy Company before being purchased by Pennsylvania chocolate magnate Sam Born for his "Just Born" candy line. Peeps remained a mound of gooey marshmallow, fashioned into a bird-shape and rolled in sugar until 1980 when Just Born introduced the Giant Bunny. After that, the entire ideology behind Peeps was cheapened. 1995 brought us color Peeps, 98 gave us the 75th anneversary blue Peep and then all hell broke loose when post-911 patriotic fervor gave birth to the Stars and Stripes Peep in 2002 (available year round).

But are peeps just candy? Absolutely not! Peeps are a proud tradition of intestinal spackle passed down from grandparents to grandchildren year after year. Ahh the magic in a child's eyes after he gums down his first Peep... sorry, let me get my composure. Ok, now for some fun facts about Peeps!

In 1953 it took 27 hours to make one Peep, now it takes six minutes

Peeps have been known to make a fine pizza topping

Even famous people love Peeps! Diane Sawyer, Ellen Degeneres and Emeril Lagasse have all professed their love!

Each Peep contains only 32 calories and ZERO fat grams

It would take 8,000 vertical Peeps to reach the height of the Sears Tower

The Peeptini...
One Part Gin
One Part Vermouth
Stir
Add Peep

These days Peeps are in danger of being lost on the youth of America. I ask you to help spread the word and keep the love alive! With the Xboxes and internets kids are missing out on the simple pleasures of a melty, marshmallow mess on a warm Easter morning. They don't get that first whiff of pure sugar that comes with tearing open the cellophane wrapper. Most importantly, they don't get that solemn reminder that somehow the crucifixion of Jesus has something to do with marshmallow birds.

Keep The Peep in 06!

The police have made some arrests in the recent burnings of Alabama churches. So far the media isn't releasing photos of the accused, but that won't stop Blogjammin'!

Thanks to a dilligent farker using facebook.com we now know that the accused men are these two asshats. Why is this blog worthy? Well, it just goes to show you that visors and popped collars will indeed lead you down the path to hell.

John was kind enough to supply this little gem.

Personally, I couldn't agree more. Republicans only want to adopt children to recruit and swell their ranks.

I once had a discussion with a friend of mine about monsters, the point of the discussion being that monsters are real. As a kid you're taught not to believe in monsters, that they're just things that you see in the movies and they're all special effects and makeup. However, the point was made that monsters are everywhere, we've just gotten used to them.

For example, spiders (especially those giant African spiders). Sure, we're used to spiders and all, but how can you argue that they aren't monsters. If you had never seen a spider, then one day a giant African face-eating one was on your ceiling you'd lose your damn mind... MONSTER! The same goes for tons of really scary looking creatures that we've gotten used to. For example: sharks, pythons, crocodiles, that little thing that swims up your urine stream and can only be gotten rid of by cutting off your wiener, and of course... lobsters.

... and if good old fashioned lobster monsters weren't good enough for you, don't worry, we've found a brand new lobster with feathered hair and poofy bangs!

I do have to say that this lobster, however, seems less scary than a normal one. Maybe because it looks a little like Hulk Hogan... and he'd never hurt us.

I never spring for the lobster when I go out to dinner, but I can promise you that if I ever see the Jon Bon Lobster on the menu, I'll pony up the dough. I guess the only question remaining is how long it will take Long John Silvers to throw on some faux-butter-batter and serve it up in a cardboard tub?

You people didn't believe me when I said that Jerome Bettis was evil, well now who's laughing!

Bettis was awarded the key to the city of Detroit. An award handed out every 25 years or so to the world's greatest monster. For example, the last recipient was Saddam Hussein.

Didn't see that one coming.

And now, I'll bitch about the Oscars.

I don't know why I even bother to watch the Oscars, really. Award shows really don't have much merit these days, the Academy Awards being MAYBE the only slight exception. The Grammy Awards are a joke, The Golden Globes are just an excuse to get smashed and The People's Choice Awards remind us of why we only let the people choose once a year (of course, the Electoral People's Choice went accordingly). However, there's still something somewhat reputable about the Oscars. Maybe it's because they manage to nominate one or two really great actors or films that you haven't heard of each year, maybe it's because I've seen them as a big deal for so long and can't seem to shake it, or maybe it's because I enjoy watching Jack Nicholson leer at the next up and coming starlet but for some reason I'm hooked.

This year was really no different from any other year. A series of daring but not too daring films vie for the top prize with each other as the audience sits back and cheers for Reese Witherspoon (or the Reese Witherspoon of any given year). Not to disparage Ms. Witherspoon's performance, she did a fantastic job and deserves a pat on the back. However, there's that one darling girl each year that captivates the television audience and often wins, just to keep them interested. This was probably best explained by the absolutely hysterical Reese Witherspoon campaign ad produced by top-notch host Jon Stewart and collaborator Steven Colbert.

The awards were short on surprise and as usual a bit of a snooze-fest in the middle. In case you missed it, everyone that you expected to win pretty much did. Phillip Syemour Hoffman, Ang Lee, Reese Witherspoon, March of the Penguins and so on and so forth took home statues with the only moderate surprise coming at the end as Crash was awarded best picture. Not really a shocker, but I'll admit that I fully expected Brokeback Mountain to come away with it.

The Academy missed a couple of chances to really kick up the evening. An award to Amy Adams for her knockout performance in Junebug would have certainly brought out the tears and given us a grateful and honest acceptance speech. An award for Dolly Parton would have been interesting to say the least, and would have given me the opportunity to refer to her as "Academy Award Winner Dolly Parton" for the rest of my life (and who doesn't like the sound of that?). An award for Paradise Now would have enraged Ann Coulter (and that's really what it's all about).

Of course, it wasn't all bad. Clooney's acceptance speech was classic and reminded us all that sometimes being out of touch with mainstream America isn't always a bad thing (do I need to revisit the People's Choice Awards?). Nick Park dressing his Oscar in a bowtie was a nice touch. Phillip Seymour Hoffman's ode to his mother was great. But most of all the happiest people in Los Angeles last night, The Three-Six Mafia should have served to remind people of what winning an award like that should mean. They were jubilant, bouncing up and down and thanking everyone that they've ever met, and as they ran off stage with their hands in the air the Academy got a quick glimpse of what it looks like when real people get the kind of recognition that too many in Hollywood take for granted. Although I was still pulling for Dolly Parton, I can't pretend that "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" hasn't been stuck in my head all day.

My personal highlight of the evening was the brilliant Meryl Streep/Lilly Tomlin presentation of the Honorary Oscar to film legend Robert Altman. Altman is a personal favorite of mine, making terribly interesting films with minimal pretense and amazing ensemble casts. Like Scorsese and Hitchcock, Altman has produced several nominations for himself, but was yet to actually win one of his own. It's at this point that I remind you that Cuba Gooding Jr. has an Oscar.

Jon Stewart was amazing, even if the mainstream press has already denounced him as a failure. He pulled off the most entertaining hosting job in years, actually getting me to laugh out loud repeatedly... something that Billy Crystal, Steve Martin and Whoopi Goldberg are yet to accomplish as a group.

So, that closes the book on yet another year in film. In a few months we can start speculating the next crop of predictable and often disappointing nominations, woo ha! Should the Academy decide against using Stewart again next year, may I suggest following the lead of the Independent Spirit Awards and booking Sarah Silverman.

A few words about Dave Chappelle's Block Party.

First, let me say that Dave Chappelle's Block Party is not only a near shoo-in for my favorite film of 2006, but upon further viewing may find it's way into my all time favorite films list. Be warned, it's not for everyone. Viewers would be advised not to go into the film expecting non-stop comedy and booty-shakin' jams. It's funny, it's most certainly funny, but that isn't the point of Block Party. The comedic moments of the film are organic, no skits, no pre-planned routines, just the natural brilliance of Dave Chappelle himself.

The music is second to none. Most listeners of strictly mainstream hip-hop may be lost on the names of the artists, however, Chappelle has gathered together some of the most amazing talent ever assembled on film. Performances by The Roots, Talib Kweli, Common, Mos Def, Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, Dead Prez, Kanye West and the miraculously re-formed Fugees bring an intensity and an urgency to the film that you're not likely to see in another 2006 release.

Please, please watch this spectacular film. It gives you a glimpse into a few blocks in Brooklyn that really have changed the world. The blocks that brought you Biggie, Jay-Z, Mos Def, Junior MAFIA, and of course the incomparable Big Daddy Kane.

----NOW ONTO THE REAL STORY----

Dave Chappelle's Block Party is largely a film about culture, race and acceptance in this modern world. How fortunate was I to have a living example of EXACTLY what the film talks about in my very own theater? As I arrived to the 10:10 showing at Regal Cinema in Lexington, KY I noticed a rater unusual sight... two uniformed police officers standing at the ticket taker's stand. I didn't think much of it, handed over my stub and walked into the rather empty theater.

As the minutes passed, the theater eventually filled with an ethnically diverse crowd, laughing and waiting for the opening titles to arrive. The theater darkens, the crowd settles in, and... what the hell... the police arrive.

To put this as plainly as I can, I watched Dave Chappelle's Block Party with two of Lexington's Finest standing over my shoulder. I've seen hundreds of movies in my life, in hundreds of theaters (including dozens at this particular theater) but I have never in my life seen such outright disrespect for an audience. And as if it wasn't enough of a slap on the face to bring security in for this specific film, the officers didn't even have the courtesy to silence their radios. So, as you're enjoying the film that you paid an outrageous price to see, police band radios are barking in the background.

I'm not one to throw out the word "racism" all that often, for me the race card usually stays in the deck (which is fairly easy to do being that I'm a white guy). But there is absolutely no other explanation. Regal Theaters clearly decided that the late showing of this movie could lead to trouble, so they brought in MEN WITH GUNS.

I WATCHED A MOVIE WHILE MEN WITH GUNS WERE WATCHING ME!

Now, I can't force you to boycott Regal, but wrong is wrong. I can assure you that after this form of treatment and this level of disrespect I will not be attending another film in that theater. I ask any of you that find this as upsetting as I do to take a couple of seconds to click on this link and tell Regal that you don't appreciate this type of behavior.

Thank you for reading, and if you're sending comments to the theater then thank you even more.

I hate Ann Coulter. I really do. I know that I've tried to be a compassionate person these days, finding good in everyone. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find the good in this evil bitch. Her latest quote, "I think the government should be spying on all Arabs, engaging in torture as a televised spectator sport, dropping daisy cutters wantonly throughout the Middle East and sending liberals to Guantanamo," is completely over the line... even for her.


However, this will be the last Blogjammin' entry regarding Ms. Coulter. Why? Well I hope that if I ignore her she'll go away. If people stop being outraged she'll stop saying ludicrous things that are nothing more than her own brand of attention whoring.

Ann Coulter... the biggest attention whore in America.

... and a man.

Duke lost to Flordia State and A&M messed with Texas... could I ask for a better evening of college basketball? I don't have a long winded basketball article to share, I'd just been waiting for a reason to use these two pictures, so now I have it!