Monday, September 29, 2008

Conspiracy Theorist Neighbors

That's what Zac and I are. For reals. We really need to be writing comic books, novels, or screenplays. Seriously, we have an in depth theory on all of our neighbors. The scary thing is, we are right most of the time. Not all the time though. We thought our neighbors across the street were drug smugglers due to the fact that people came and went non stop at all hours of the day and night but it just turned out that she runs a drop in day care 24 hours a day.

We have been this way since we met. We thought our upstairs neighbors at the Island of Serenity were crazy whacked out psycho alcoholic lesbians and we were right on the money. They argued night and day. Loudly. They were cool as hell when they were normal but most of the time they were total nutjobs. And more entertaining than daytime television.

Then when we moved to our current location the fattest man I have ever seen with my own eyes lived upstairs. They had moved from far away so that his wife could attend Medical School. Someone was crying all the time. We thought it was her because he seemed like a total asswad. And the acoustics in this place are all kinds of fucked up so everytime I was in what was then the computer room I could hear loud sobbing. Like twice a day. So we had all these wild fantasies about him not letting her call her parents or that he was keeping her hostage when she wasn't at school or things of that nature. But then we found out it was HIM that was crying. That made it even better. WAY better. They never talked to us, ever. And I am the kind of person who says hi to everyone. Including my weirdo autistic mailman who has never ONCE replied to me. How weird is that? Anyway, one day Crying Man locked himself out of the building and Zac and my brother had to MacGuyver their way upstairs to let him in. Turns out he was in fact kind of a psycho. Finally they left. I did enjoy the fact that the mailman always left his Big and Large catalogs out in the open for everyone to see. Fucking rude of him but funny. I didn't know they made 6XL.

Then there is the house kitty corner to us. I think they might have moved. They have a hot tub out back, a big one. There was always a party going on over there. Non stop. Early in the evening on Friday until Sunday night. Tons of people. Every weekend. We totally think that they were swinger orgy sex party people. They had giant privacy fences so I don't think we were wrong about them. Gross, I never would have bought that house. Think of all the spooge in every random location.

We also have Angry Asian Man living across the street from us. He gets all wound up during Packer games, gets super drunk. and yells racial slurs from his front porch. Including the word you never ever say. In a primarily black neighborhood. That's a good one to sit out front and watch unfold. What is also entertaining about him is the way that he mows his lawn. I don't think he ever has before he bought the house. Like there is no rhyme or reason to it. Diagonally, up the hill, across the hill, in a circle, whatever. He probably weighs 100 pounds soaking wet and his lawn mower probably weighs 80. It's old school. God we are total assholes. This year I noticed he left the job up to his wife. She does in fact grasp the concept of mowing.

We are weirdo neighbor magnets. Our current theories are fun. There is a house up the street that features a parade of various women letting a giant dog out to pee. Zac has decided that is "Lesbian Party House." There is a guy in a white car that comes to our building bringing a sealed box and what appears to be a jug of moonshine and we think that he is our creepy neighbor's NAMBLA buddy. We also think that the people in the next building over are connected somehow to the Russian Mafia. Don't even get me started on the building on the other side of us. I don't know what kind of transient weirdos live there. If there wasn't a six foot privacy fence I would have many more theories. I wonder if car thieves live there. It seems like every now and again a car comes tearing in there super fast with the law right on their ass. This neighborhood is much better than it used to be but I'm not stupid. Time to bring the dog in at that point. Not stretch your head to see over the fence as Zac is prone to do. I've seen cops crouching behind their cars with their guns drawn enough to know that.

I could go on and on.

Oh, everyone in our neighborhood is referred to by their nicknames we have given them as well. Such as Running Man and Beagleman. Not Beagle MAN, Beagleman. Not very creative. We used up all of our creativity dreaming up what our neighbors are doing in their spare time.

I guess maybe be thankful you don't live in our neighborhood.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Neil Patrick Harris


Not exactly "stuff" nor "thingeys" but I love me some Neil Patrick Harris. I have loved him since Doogie Howser. It was kind of a stupid ass show, but maybe I just secretly wanted to be a tweenage doctor. Hell, I still want to be a doctor. But I don't want to go to med school. I shall be a doctor after the apocalypse, but that is a whacked out story for another post. If I ever get a Schnauzer, his name will be Doogie. I also liked his way ahead of his time blogging at the end of each episode. Tres cool. And the dude can even make fun of himself while shilling for Old Spice:


He rocks in the Harold and Kumar movies. I like a guy who can make fun of himself. Or make a HUGE ass of himself. Hilarious. (This one is long but if you don't feel like watching the whole movie you can just watch this).

What I really really love about NPH is that he doesn't feel like he has to be anything other than himself in an industry that most people have to adopt some kind of uber fake persona to fit into. Who cares what your sexual preference is? I don't. Do you care who I am sleeping with? Well I know that Lo Pan does, but that is because it is with him. But the rest of you? Didn't think so. And it's not like it affects his roles at all. Because Barney Stinson is the most awesome character on broadcast televison today - possibly ever. If you do not watch How I Met Your Mother, put it on your Netflix queue or get it however you "acquire" your programs. It has a great cast (Willow is in it too), great writing, and a big heart. And then there is Barney. The biggest douchebag womanizer on TV. Played by NPH.

And he can SING. And he's a friend of Joss. Could he be cooler? I'll get to Joss in a later post. Have you guys seen Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog? Get thee to iTunes if you haven't. That one you need to pay for so they can make more. Here's my favorite song from that. I have watched it way too many times. Just like Buffy and Angel. Dork.



And the coolest thing of all? Being a mom, you are pretty fucking cool if you appear on Sesame Street. Here he is talking to Elmo. Because my son will want to watch this eleventy million times and then I won't have to go looking for it again:


Be still my heart. I love you Neil Patrick Harris. You always make me happy. And that is a very great gift.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Tacos


Food of the gods. We have eaten tacos for dinner like 30 of the last 90 days. My love for tacos knows no bounds. I'm not talking Taco Bell either, they're good and all but Taco John's is better. I'm talking about homemade tacos. Homemade in that you buy the shells, seasoning, vegetables, cheese, sour cream, meat, and whatever else you want on them. Not the healthiest of foods but not the unhealthiest either. I suppose it all depends on what you put on them. You could do an all veggie taco, or use chicken, turkey, or fish. Although I don't believe in fish tacos. It's kind of like how chicken does not belong anywhere near breakfast. Fish does not belong anywhere near tacos.

According to the very reliable source Wikipedia, tacos were being eaten in Mexico long before the evil conquistadors showed up (although they were made with fish, thus making my last statement very very wrong).

I enjoy watching Rick Bayless on PBS - Mexico: One Plate at a Time. He has made some badass tacos based on his travels throughout the Yucatan Peninsula. I would like to try them. Perhaps if I ever get his cookbook from Paperback Swap I will do just that. I am cheap like that. But I really like the Americanized (read: bastardized) version of the taco.

I will admit that LaBamba makes some wicked awesome tacos. They are very spicy. However they are a franchise so they may have lost some of their authenticity along the way. And they are better known for their burritos as big as your head. Which are also delicious. If you've been drinking heavily all evening.

So here's to you tacos. I think I will eat you now.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome


Only the best cheesy movie ever. I do like some good movies but generally my tastes lean toward the craptacular and this is the cream of the crop. If you don't like this movie, you are lying. Who can resist Master Blaster, Tina Turner, and Mel Gibson in his pre-crazy years? That's right, nobody. Find me one person who has not used the phrase, "two men enter, one man leaves."

We are even taught a tale of compassion, when Max refuses to kill Blaster because of his developmental disability (even though Tina has him killed anyway and exiles Max to the desert. You don't get those legs without making a deal with the devil). Who run Bartertown?


Then the creepy children find Max and nurse him back to health. He then crushes their dreams by telling them that the world is all kinds of fucked up. But they do not give up hope and go to Bartertown in hopes of escaping. Max helps them. Yay!

This movie was not available on DVD FOREVER. Finally, it was re-released. You would have thought that we found the Hope Diamond the day we scored it at Best Buy.

The very best thing about this movie is the use of the phrase "Beyond Thunderdome." It's original usage in this context can be credited to Green Bay's Tim Friedemann. Next time you see or hear something that is the most fucked up, jacked up, crazy ass shit you have ever seen/heard, you can say, "That was Beyond Thunderdome."

I will give you some examples. If you see a 300 pound circus clown wearing a purple spandex unitard riding a unicycle backwards down your street while eating a corn dog - that is Beyond Thunderdome. If your best friend changes her name to $%@ and elopes to Antarctica with a guy she met on Spring Break to save the penguins - that is Beyond Thunderdome. If someone comes into the television station you work at to tell you that she is receiving transmissions from outer space through her fillings from your broadcast signal (this actually happened to me) - that is most definitely Beyond Thunderdome. Use it. Embrace it.