"ask a silly question, get a silly answer" thread.

Q:Why are Frodo's and Gollum's eyes so big?

A: It's a side effect of the Ring. Look at what it did to Sauron.

"Where did the Nazgul get new tattered black robes after their old tattered black robes got burned up?" LOLOLOL

Q: Why are Orcs diving off a cliff in the beginning battle shot?

A: This is a more interesting question. There are some who postulate that the Elves are shooting them fro the front line in great numbers. I prefer the theory that these are kamikaze Orcs. They have pin-pointed the enemy forces below, and are throwing themselves down as human bombs with the intention to take as many Penultimate Alliance soldiers with them as they possible can. To make this effect more impactful, many of them have been gorging on cheap curries and bottles of supermarket cola.

These are quotes people have taken from Lord of the Rings and replaced key words with "pants." Hilarity ensues:

"Gondor has no pants. Gondor needs no pants"
"You cannot pants it, none of us pants. The pants answer to Sauron alone!"
"A shadow and a threat has been growing in my pants."
"I wish the pants had never come to me, I wish none of this ever happened."
"I ask only for the strength to defend my pants!"
"The power of the Pants could not be undone."
"It was in this moment that Isildur, son of the King, took up his fathers pants."
"Have you seen it Aragorn? The white pants of Echthelion?"
"Sauron is not so mighty that he is above fear. He fears your pants Aragorn...."
"I will take the pants to Mordor! Though I do now know the way."
"And into this pants, he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life."
"But the pants of Men are easily corrupted."

Merry: "You're supposed to stick it into the pants!"
Pippin: "It is in the pants!"
Merry: "Outside!

"If you want pants, come and claim pants."
"Who will you look to when we're gone, the dwarves? They hide in their pants seeking riches, they care nothing for the pants of others."
"You did not seriously think that a hobbit could contend with the pants of Sauron? There are none who can."
"The nine have left Minas Morgul. They crossed the river Isen on midsummer's eve, disguised as riders in pants."
"You fought bravely. You have kept your pants."
”By nightfall these pants will be crawling with Orcs”
"Give them pants for pity's sake!"
"Don't you understand? The enemy thinks you have the pants. They're going to be looking for you Pip. They have to get you out of here."
"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his pants. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."
"Your pants are cold. The life of the Eldar is leaving you. "

LOLOLOLOL

Found this person's list of reasons he hates Doom 3. Thought it was pretty funny :D

I [really] hate Doom3.
I hate how it's so dark you can't see [nothing] until it's on top of you.
You can't have your flashlight and your gun out at the same time.
I hate the way they put monsters right [bloody] behind doors that then proceed to jump straight out at you and start attacking you.
I hate the way you enter a room, and there's armour or ammo there, in the middle, in a quiet well-lit room. And you just [damn well] know when you pick that up the lights are going to go off and a ton of monsters are gonna drop in to play.
I hate the way they've used sound to make every [damn] room in the game sound like there's things behind the walls or in the vents.
I hate it when I'm about to climb a ladder into a vent and something up there makes a noise.
I hate how that fills me with dread not knowing what the hell I'm going to come across.
I hate how I can't open doors without wondering if there will be something behind it.
I hate the way it makes me play with the sound turned off.
I hate it cos I have to keep quitting it cos I'm too scared.

LOL

I love the game though. It's creepy as all hell. Can't wait until I buy an Alienware system...5.1 or 7.1 surround sound...then I'll truly wet myself.

Ok this annoys me.

Hey, here's an idea, parents: Why don't you grow a pair? A pair of boobs or testicles, brass perhaps, as it pleases you; I'm not picky. It really annoys me when I see children who are the boss of their parents. My children will never be THAT disrespectful. There's nothing I respect more than a parent in Toys 'R Us with a screaming kid in tow. If they're ignoring him that is. Children know just how to play the drama game and get what they want even from a year old. Props to your strong parents out there who believe a firm hand is a loving one.

How 'bout I get you a nice warm glass of shut the hell up? You're in my world now grandma!

Excerpts from one of my favorite standup performances - Denis Leary: No Cure For Cancer

I don't do illegal drugs anymore. Now I just do the legal drugs. Tonight I'm on NyQuil and Sudafed. Let me tell you something, folks. Forget about cocaine and heroine. All you need is NyQuil and Sudafed. I'm telling you right now, I took the NyQuil five years ago. I just came out of the coma tonight before the fucking show! Claus Vanbulo was standing over my bed going, "Denis, get up! There's something the matter with Sunny! Hurry up!" I love NyQuil. Man, I love it! I love it. I love it. I love it. It's the best thing shit ever invented. Isn't it, huh? I love the name alone. NyQuil - Capitol N, small Y, big fucking Q! I love that fucking Q, don't you!? What a great advertising idea! Put a huge fucking Q on the box. They'll get high and stare at it. "The Q is talking to me! The Q is talking to me!"

I love NyQuil, man. Because NyQuil has never changed, man. It's never changed. All the other medicines are doing that inner-child thing. "we know that there's a small child inside of you, so now we have grape and cherry and orange flavor." Not NyQuil! They still have the original green death fucking flavor! You know why!? Because it doesn't matter what it tastes like! It's so strong you go, "*wheeze* Hey this stuff really tastes like.." Bang! Yer in the coma already! "What happened?" "He said tastes like and he went right into the coma, it was unbelievable!" We have reached the point where the over the counter drugs are actually stronger than anything you can buy on the street. It says on the back of the NyQuil box, on the back of the box it says, "May cause drowsiness." It should say, "Don't make any fucking plans! Kiss your family and friends goodbye. Say hello to Klaus!" NyQuil, NyQuil, NyQuil, we love you! You giant fucking Q!

NyQuil is the secret for all you twelve step recovery program people. Yes, all you AA people, NyQuil is the key! It's the thirteenth fucking step! You can drink it! It's over the counter! Drink as much as you want. "Are you drunk?" "No! I have a cold. Same cold I've had for two years. I just can't seem to shake it. I'm high as a kite and my teeth are green. Merry fucking Christmas!"

We did it all. Cocaine? We started that. You're welcome! What a great drug that was. Yeah, I'd like to do some cocaine. I'd like to do a drug that makes my penis small, makes my nose bleed, makes my heart explode, and sucks all my money out of the bank. Is that possible please!? I'd like to make this face all night! I'd like to sit in the bathroom and talk to a complete asshole stranger for seven hours on end. Is that possible please!? With no penis and a nose bleed! Where do I sign up!? Take my penis away! That was the worst part about the coke, man, was being in that bathroom with that stranger at the end of the night. Wasn't it, huh? Talking about shit like solving the world's problems and the only reason you're in there is because he has the coke. That should have been a fucking sign, don't ya think? I mean if Hitler had coke, there'd be Jews in the bathroom going, "I know you didn't do it. *snort* I like your mustache. *snort* Fucking Himmler! *snort*"

People go, "Well why didn't you go into rehab?" We didn't have rehab back in the seventies. Back in the seventies rehab meant you'd stop doing coke, but you kept smoking pot and drinking for a couple more weeks. You know? "Yeah, give me a case of Budweiser and an ounce. I gotta slow down! Jesus Christ! I'm outta control. Look at the size of my pants for Christ's sake!"

Everybody comes from a dysfunctional family all of the sudden, huh? Rosanne Barr comes from a dysfunctional family? Not Rosanne! She seems so normal to me! The Jacksons were dysfunctional!? Not the Jacksons! These people give each other new heads for Christmas for Christ's sake!

God.. "I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy because my life didn't turn out the way I thought it would." Hey! Join the fucking club, ok!? I thought I was going to be the starting center fielder for the Boston Red Socks. Life sucks, get a fucking helmet, allright?! "I'm not happy. I'm not happy." Nobody's happy, ok!? Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate cookie, or a five second orgasm. That's it, ok! You cum, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to fucking work, ok!? That is it! End of fucking list! "I'm just not happy." Shut the fuck up, allright? That's the name of my new book, "Shut the Fuck Up, by Doctor Denis Leary. A revolutionary new form of therapy." I'm gonna have my patients come in. "Doctor, I.." "Shut the fuck up, next!" "I don't feel so.." "Shut the fuck up, next!" "He made me feel so much better about myself, you know? He just told me to shut the fuck up and nobody had ever told me that before. I feel so much better now."

And I'll tell you something else right now. I have the solution to the drug problem in this country. Nobody wants to hear it, but I have it. Not less drugs, more drugs. Get more drugs, and give 'em the right fucking people. Mmm mm, cuz every time you hear about some famous guy overdosing on drugs, it's always some really talented guy. It's always like Len Bias, or Janis Joplin, or Jimi Hendrix, or John Belushi. You know what I mean!? The people you wanna have overdose on drugs never would! Like Motley Crue would never fucking overdose man, never! You could put them in a room with two tons of crack. They come out a half an hour later, "Rock on man!" "Shit, they're still alive. Fuck! They're probly gonna make another double-live album now, God dammit!"

We live in a country, where John Lennon takes six bullets in the chest, Yoko Ono was standing right next to him and not one fucking bullet! Explain that to me! Explain that to me, God! Explain it to me, God! I want it! God! Jesus! Now we've got twenty-five more years. Yeah, I'm real fucking happy now, God. I'm wearing a huge happy hat, Jesus Christ! I mean Stevie Ray Vaughan is dead, and we can't get Jon Bon Jovi in a helicopter. Come on, folks. "Get on that helicopter John. Shut the fuck up and get on that helicopter! There's a hair dresser in there. Yeah, go ahead in there, yeah yeah."

Let me make sure I'm crystal clear on this issue, ok? Heavy Metal fans are buying Heavy Metal records, taking the records home, listening to the records and then blowing their heads off with shotguns? Where's the problem!? That's an unemployment solution right there, folks! It's called natural selection. It's the bottom of the food chain, ok? I say we put more messages on the records. "Kill the band, kill your parents, then yourself, ok!? Make sure you get your whole head in front of the shotgun. Thank you for calling!"

Let me tell you something. We need a two and a half hour movie about the Doors? Folks, no we don't. I can sum it up for you in five seconds, ok. "I'm drunk. I'm nobody. I'm drunk. I'm famous. I'm drunk. I'm fucking dead." There's the whole movie, ok!? Big fat dead guy in a bath tub, there's your title for you.

All these rock stars should've been killed, man. Every single God damned one of them. Right after Jon Lenin died, we should've gotten the Partridge Family bus and driven around and killed them all one by one, you know? Elvis Presley should have been shot in the head back in 1957. Somebody should've walked up behind Elvis in '57 with a 44 magnum, put the barrel of the gun right up to his brain stem and just pulled the trigger, so you can remember Elvis in a nice way. Wouldn't it be nice to remember Elvis thin, with a big head of hair? Maybe that gold lame gold lame gold lame suit. Wouldn't that be nice? Because how do you remember Elvis? You know how you remember Elvis. He was found in the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his big fat hairy sweaty king of rock and roll ass exposed to the world and his final piece of kingly evidence floating in the toilet behind him! Creepy! One of his aids had to walk in and go, "Damn, Elvis is dead. I'd better flush the toilet. Oh man I should've saved that! I coulda made some money off of that! Damn man! A ding dang do!"

That's why I'm glad Jesus died when he did. Oh yeah. Because if he lived to be 40, he woulda ended up like Elvis, come on! Oh yeah, he had that big enterauge. Twelve guys willing to do whatever he wanted to do. He was famous already at that point. If he lived to be 40, he'd be walking around Jerusalem with a big fat beer gut and black side burns going, "Damn, I'm the son of God. Give me a cheese burger and french fries right now. Where's Mary Magdeline, I want a blow job now. Come on now! Fuck you, or I'll turn you into a leper. Give me a cheese burger now, God dammit. Love me tender, love me true, empty my colostamy bag! Hoo-ah! Hoo-ah! Oh I think I shit my pants on that last hoo-ah. Change my diaper now!"

Know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get one of those tracheotomies. So I can smoke two cigarettes at the same time. I'm gonna get nine tracheotomies all the way around my neck. I'll be Tracheotomie Man! "He can smoke a pack at a time! He's Tracheotomie Man!"

Babe Ruth, greatest baseball player to ever play the game. He had a voic box. He was the first American to have a voice box. Yeah! "[VB] This is Babe Ruth, the Sultan of Swat, the Bambino, I smoke twenty-five God damn cuban cigars a day. I had meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I fucked eighteen prostitutes a night! 'course, I'm dead now. I'm up here in heaven. Lou Gehrig is up here with me. God love Lou Gehrig. Jesus Christ, poor Lou Gehrig. Died of Lou Gehrig's disease. How the hell did he not see that coming? You know. We used to tell him, Lou, there's a disease with your name all over it, pal! There ain't no Babe Ruth disease, I'll tell you that much right now. Have a hot dog and a Hummer. Go ahead, it's on me."

Because you gotta have goals. Because everybody in this room knows everybody who's quitting. You all have that friend who's quitting it. You know what I mean? The guys quitting it, "I quit smoking. I quit drugs. I quit drinking. I quit meat, and I feel great. I get up in the morning and have a nice big bowl of oat bran. I go to the bathroom for three and a half hours. I have another bowl of oat bran. I go back in the bathroom for six more hours. All I do is eat and shit, I'm gonna live forever! My colon is the strongest muscle in my body right now. I could pass Elvis through my colon right now."
And all these cereals they have, Cracklin' Oat Bran, and Horkin' Fiber Chunks, you know? Cereal used to come with a free prize. Now it comes with a free roll of toilet paper in every box. Guys get up on Sunday morning, "Forget about the New York Times, I'm gonna need the Bible. I got a big one brewing here." "Dad, there's a phone call!" "I'm on Genesis, God dammit! You tell 'em to call back after the creation!" People checking their own feces for fiber. You have too much free fucking time on your hands, ok

Red meat, white meat, blue meat, meat-o-fucking-rama. You will eat it. Because not eating meat is a decision. Eating meat is an instinct! Yeah! And I know what it's about. "I don't want to eat the meat because I love the animals. I love the animals." Hey, I love the animals too. I love my doggy. He's so cute. My fluffy little dog.. He's so cute- There's the problem. We only want to save the cute animals, don't we? Yeah. Why don't we just have animal auditions. Line 'em up one by one and interview them individually. "What are you?" "I'm an otter." "And what do you do?" "I swim around on my back and do cute little human things with my hands." "You're free to go." "And what are you?" "I'm a cow." "Get in the fucking truck, ok pal!" "But I'm an animal." "You're a baseball glove! Get on that truck!" "I'm an animal, I have rights!" "Yeah, here's yer fucking cousin, get on the fucking truck, pal!"

Personally, I think Mama Cass said it best when she said, "[Choking noises]" "All the leaves are [Choking noises]" "Monday [Choking noises]"

If I worked at the post office as a supervisor, I wouldn't lay anybody off for the next twenty-five fucking years. I'd just walk around going, "Hanrahan, what're you doing?" "Nothing." "Well, keep it up, you're doing a great job! Jesus. I'll tell ya."

Hey! I just moved here four years ago, and I'm not leaving, because this is the most exciting place in the world to live. Oh yeah! Yeah! There are so many ways to die in New York City, come on! Race riots, drive by shootings, subway crashes, construction cranes collapsing on the sidewalks, manhole covers blowing up, asbestos shooting into the sky. We had a subway crash here a couple of years ago. Five people died. The next day they found the driver was drunk and hooked on crack. Folks, this makes Disneyland look like a fucking bike ride, doesn't it? "Your drive today is Edward. He's drunk and hooked on crack. The man sitting next to you has a loaded nine-millimeter. Good luck, folks!" "Honey, get the camera! This is gonna be fucking great!"

My Pimpafyed name is: Sweet Chocolate P. Silk
What's your Pimpafyed name?

This had me laughing for 5 minutes straight...

HAHAHAHAHA lol poor Janet your career is MJ-destined now

Ever seen the video for Yatta? They're so weird over there...
Lindsay got much more popular after her MTV Movie Award performance lol...

The FUSE tv network did some advertisements that goofed on the iPod adds. Some of them are pretty good.


By far the funniest one...

iPod Evolution Baby. (From left): iPod Mini, 4th Gen, 3rd Gen, 1st/2cd Gen

Ditto but see how thin my new one is :D

Vh1's Michael Jackson Movie Premieres This Friday Night!!!!

The move follows Michael from his Motown days until the recent charges against him, where he did his little jib on top of a car to screaming fans. I can't wait...the Jackson 5 movie was great, but there's so much more that's happened after.

Go Mike Go!

Time for some lyrics from my favorite Throwing Copper songs :D

Live - Iris

I liked the way my hand looked on your head
In the presence of my knuckles
But the beauty of this vision alone
Just like yesterday's sunset
Has been perverted by the sentimental
And mistaken for love

The felix of your truth will always break it
And the iris of your eye will always shake it
And the armies, the armies I have created
Will always hate it
Will always bait you on

I liked the way my hand looked on your head
In the presence of my struggle
But the beauty of this vision alone I can't shake from my tree just yet I
t keeps invading all my private moments
Listen to me now

The felix of your truth will always break it
And the iris of your eye will always shake it
And the armies, the armies I have created
Will always hate it
Always bait you on
Until I take their flags
Until I take their flags!

Live - Top

This is not helping me at all
What you are doing here
In the name of god and love
It's the distribution of fear
Pyramids, healing wires, analysts with fame
I haven't got your degree
And I forgot your name

Pick me up and put me on the ground
Set me up and spin me all around
No, you are not the one I wish to see

This is not helping me at all
Where did we get this plan?
That you could give to me
What I might already have
Pyramids, healing wires, a musician's fame
I volunteered you my eyes
In place of facing me

Pick me up and put me on the ground
Set me up and spin me all around
No, you are not the one I wish to see
Oh hitler, in a robe of truth
My emptiness has built your altar
And I've worshipped myself in you forever
Until now!

Live - Stage

I wanna feel
I wanna try
I wanna rock in the city tonight
I wanna deal
Don't wanna die
I wanna bring my Captain Hook into the light
People I've seen my day
Ranting and raving this beauty away
We are by and large the same
But words are too feeble, they cannot contain
He was a "rock and roll messiah"
She was known for her childcare
The truth is gonna give up the world
If you can give up the stage
If I can give up the stage
If we can give up the stage

Come to this, I can't come to you
Don't do this, wake me up tonight
Come to this, I can't come to you
Don't do this, wake me up tonight
Come on, motherfucker!!
He was a "rock and roll messiah"
How can you stand today beside her
Messiah, besider her....
Give me the stage
Give me the stage
Beside her
Beside her
Besider her.
::Insert awesome feedback here::

The BEST song on the album...this is Live at their hardest. Go Live go!

Live - White Discussion

I talk of freedom
You talk of the flag
I talk of revolution
You'd much rather brag
And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse continue to dampen the day
The coin flips again and again, and again, and again as our santity walks away
All this discussion
Though politically correct
Is dead beyond destruction
Though it leaves me quite erect
And as the final sunset rolls behind the earth
And the clock is finally dead
I'll look at you, you'll look at me and we'll cry a lot
But this will be what we said
This will be what we said:
"Look where all this talking got us baby."

::Insert most amazing ending to a song Live has ever done here::

This is disturbing. None of my middle or high school teachers ever got frisky with me. Then again thinking back to most of them I think there'd only be like 2 ever who would even be worthy of that.

Rush ROCKED last night. And it looks like YES and DREAMTHEATER are coming on August 20th. Could you ASK for a better concert? I don't think you could. Really I don't.

Got Lindsay's annual shorehouse bash this weekend. May go to Jess's for dinner with her family Friday night, not sure yet. Things are still up in the air this week. I know the guys want to go to Atlantic City for our annual trip...well this would be the second annual lol. So we'll see it's going to be a nuts weekend.

THANK YOU for sending me chain letters in 2003 & 2004!!

• I stopped drinking Coca Cola after finding it’s only good for removing toilet stains.
• I stopped going to the movies for fear of sitting on a needle infected with AIDS.
• I smell like a dog since I stopped using deodorants because they cause cancer.
• I don’t leave my car in the parking lot or any other place and sometimes I even have to walk about 7 blocks for fear that someone will drug me with a perfume sample and try to rob me.
• I’ve stopped answering the phone for fear that they will ask me to dial a stupid number and then I get a phone bill from hell with calls to Uganda, Singapore and Tokyo.
  I stopped consuming several foods for fear that the estrogens they contain may turn me gay.
• I also stopped eating chicken and hamburgers because they are nothing other than horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers that are bred in a lab so that places like McDonalds can sell their Big Macs.
• I’ve stopped drinking anything out of a can for fear that I will get sick from the rat feces and urine.
• I think I’m turning gay because when I go to parties I don’t look at any females no matter how hot she is, for fear that she will take my kidneys and leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice.
• I also donated all my savings to the Amy Bruce account. A sick girl who was about to die in hospital about 7,000 times. Funny, that girl’s been 7 years old since 1993.
• I went bankrupt from bounced checks that I wrote, expecting the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are supposed to send me when I participated in their special email program.
• My Ericsson phone never arrived and neither did the passes for a paid vacation to Disneyland.

BUT I AM POSITIVE THAT ALL OF THIS IS BECAUSE OF A STINKING CHAIN THAT I BROKE OR FORGOT TO FOLLOW, AND NOW I’VE GOT THE CURSE FROM HELL.

Veronica Corningstone: For Channel 4 News, I'm Veronica Corningstone. Thanks for stopping by.

Ron Burgundy: And I'm Ron Burgundy. Go fuck yourself, San Diego.

Brick Tamland:

"I don't know what we're yelling about!"

"Yeah, I stabbed a man in the heart!"

"Yeah, there were horses, and a man on fire, and I killed a guy with a trident!"

"I ate a big, red candle."

"I ate fiberglass insulation. It wasn't cotton candy like the guy said...my tummy itches. "

"Where'd you get your suit? The toilet store?"

"I pooped a hammer."

"I ate a lava lamp once. It wasn't actually lava."

"(riding a bear) Look, I'm riding a big furry tractor."

"I love... carpet."

"I love... desk."

"I love lamp."

"I love lamp! I love lamp."

"I'm Brick Tamland. People seem to like me because I am polite and I am rarely late. I enjoy ice cream and a nice pair of slacks. Years later, a doctor will tell me I have an I.Q. of 48 and that I am considered mentally retarded."

" I heard somewhere their periods attract bears. They can smell the menstruation."

Ron Burgundy:
"Oop...I almost forgot. I won't be able to make it fellas. Veronica and I trying this new fad called uh, "jogging". I believe it's 'jogging' or 'yogging'. it might be a soft "j". I'm not sure but apparently you just run for an extended period of time. It's supposed to be wild.

By the beard of Zeus!

Knights of Columbus, that hurt!

Son of a bee-sting!

Great Odin's raven!

Brick, where did you get a hand grenade?

I'm going to punch you in the ovary, right in the babymaker.

I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch.

Brian Fantana: I think I was in love once.

Ron Burgundy: Really? What was her name?

Brian Fantana: I don't remember.

Ron Burgundy: That's not a good start, but keep going...

Brian Fantana: She was Brazilian, or Chinese, or something weird. I met her in the bathroom of a K-Mart and we made out for hours. Then we parted ways, never to see each other again.

Ron Burgundy: I'm pretty sure that's not love.

Brian Fantana: Damn it!

It's so hot... milk was a bad choice.

Pinky the Pet Of The Week (Poor guys balls....)

Quotes from The 'Burbs.

Ray Peterson: No I've never seen that...I've never seen anyone drive their garbage down to the end of the drive way and then bang the hell out of it with a stick I-I've never seen that.

Art: Now they know that we know that they know that we know.

Art: I think the message for psychos and killer is "do not mess with suburbanites". We're not gonna be content to look after our lawns and wax our cars, we're out to get them, man, we are out to get them.

Ray Peterson: I'm going to go do something productive. I'm gonna go watch television.

These are also amusing.

... We polish the Polish furniture.... He could lead if he would get the lead out.... A farm can produce produce.... The dump was so full it had to refuse refuse.... The soldier decided to desert in the desert.... The present is a good time to present the present.... At the Army base, a bass was painted on the head of a bass drum.... The dove dove into the bushes.... I did not object to the object.... The insurance for the invalid was invalid.... The bandage was wound around the wound.... There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.... They were too close to the door to close it.... The buck does funny things when the does are present.... They sent a sewer down to stitch the tear in the sewer line.... To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.... The wind was too strong to wind the sail.... After a number of Novocain injections, my jaw got number.... I cried a tear when I saw the tear in my clothes.... I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.... How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?... I spent last evening evening out a pile of dust.

100% Grammatically Correct

1. A murder of crows
2. A clowder of cats
3. A leap of leopards
4. A sloth of bears
5. A rafter of turkeys
6. A smack of jellyfish
7. A skulk of foxes
8. A labor of moles
9. A peep of chickens
10. A crash of rhinoceroses
11. A paddling of ducks
12. A siege of herons
13. A rag of colts
14. A drift of hogs
15. A charm of finches
16. A trip of goats
17. A knot of toads
18. A shrewdness of apes
19. A parliament of owls
20. A troop of kangaroos
21. A gaggle of geese
22. A pride of lions
23. A watch of nightengales
24. A muster of peacocks
25. An exaltation of larks

1. Ignore everybody.
The more original your idea is, the less good advice other people will be able to give you.

You don't know if your idea is any good the moment it's created. Neither does anyone else. The most you can hope for is a strong gut feeling that it is. And trusting your feelings is not as easy as the optimists say it is. There's a reason why feelings scare us.
And asking close friends never works quite as well as you hope, either. It's not that they deliberately want to be unhelpful. It's just they don't know your world one millionth as well as you know your world, no matter how hard they try, no matter how hard you try to explain.
Plus a big idea will change you. Your friends may love you, but they don't want you to change. If you change, then their dynamic with you also changes. They like things the way they are, that's how they love you- the way you are, not the way you may become.
Ergo, they have no incentive to see you change. And they will be resistant to anything that catalyzes it. That's human nature. And you would do the same, if the shoe was on the other foot.
With business colleagues it's even worse. They're used to dealing with you in a certain way. They're used to having a certain level of control over the relationship. And they want whatever makes them more prosperous. Sure, they might prefer it if you prosper as well, but that's not their top priority.
If your idea is so good that it changes your dynamic enough to where you need them less, or God forbid, THE MARKET needs them less, then they're going to resist your idea every chance they can.
Again, that's human nature.
GOOD IDEAS ALTER THE POWER BALANCE IN RELATIONSHIPS, THAT IS WHY GOOD IDEAS ARE ALWAYS INITIALLY RESISTED.
Good ideas come with a heavy burden. Which is why so few people have them. So few people can handle it.

2. Creativity is its own reward.
You never really reach your goals. By the time you get near to fulfilling them your criteria has already changed. Which is why by the time the world recognizes your genius, it won't seem very real.

3. Put the hours in.
Doing anything worthwhile takes forever. 90% of what seperates successful people and failed people is time, effort and stamina.

4. If your biz plan depends on you suddenly being "discovered" by some big shot, your plan will probably fail.

Nobody suddenly discovers anything. Things are made slowly and in pain.

5. You are responsible for your own experience.
Nobody can tell you if what you're doing is good, meaningful or worthwhile. The more compelling the path, the more lonely it is.

6. Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten.
Then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away and replace them with books on algebra etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the creative bug is just a wee voice telling you, "I’d like my crayons back, please."

So you've got the itch to do something. Write a screenplay, start a painting, write a book, turn your recipe for fudge brownies into a proper business, whatever. You don't know where the itch came from, it's almost like it just arrived on your doorstep, uninvited. Until now you were quite happy holding down a real job, being a regular person...
Until now.
You don't know if you're any good or not, but you'd think you could be. And the idea terrifies you. The problem is, even if you are good, you know nothing about this kind of business. You don't know any publishers or agents or all these fancy-shmancy kind of folk. You have a friend who's got a cousin in California who's into this kind of stuff, but you haven't talked to your friend for over two years...
Besides, if you write a book, what if you can't find a publisher? If you write a screenplay, what if you can't find a producer? And what if the producer turns out to be a crook? You've always worked hard your whole life, you'll be damned if you'll put all that effort into something if there ain't no pot of gold at the end of this dumb-ass rainbow...
Heh. That's not your wee voice asking for the crayons back. That's your outer voice, your adult voice, your boring & tedious voice trying to find a way to get the wee crayon voice to shut the hell up.
Your wee voice doesn't want you to sell something. Your wee voice wants you to make something. There's a big difference. Your wee voice doesn't give a damn about publishers or Hollywood producers.
Go ahead and make something. Make something really special. Make something amazing that will really blow the mind of anybody who sees it.
If you try to make something just to fit your uninformed view of some hypothetical market, you will fail. If you make something special and powerful and honest and true, you will succeed.
The wee voice didn't show up because it decided you need more money or you need to hang out with movie stars. Your wee voice came back because your soul somehow depends on it. There's something you haven't said, something you haven't done, some light that needs to be switched on, and it needs to be taken care of. Now.
So you have to listen to the wee voice or it will die... taking a big chunk of you along with it.
They're only crayons. You didn't fear them in kindergarten, why fear them now?

7. Keep your day job.
I’m not just saying that for the usual reason i.e. because I think your idea will fail. I’m saying it because to suddenly quit one’s job in a big ol' creative drama-queen moment is always, always, always in direct conflict with what I call “The Sex & Cash Theory”.

THE SEX & CASH THEORY: "The creative person basically has two kinds of jobs: One is the sexy, creative kind. Second is the kind that pays the bills. Sometimes the task in hand covers both bases, but not often. This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended."
A good example is Phil, a NY photographer friend of mine. He does really wild stuff for the indie magazines- it pays nothing, but it allows him to build his portfolio. Then he'll go off and shoot some catalogues for a while. Nothing too exciting, but it pays the bills.
Another example is somebody like Martin Amis. He writes "serious" novels, but he has to supplement his income by writing the occasional newspaper article for the London papers (novel royalties are bloody pathetic- even bestsellers like Amis aren't immune).
Or actors. One year Travolta will be in an ultra-hip flick like Pulp Fiction ("Sex"), the next he'll be in some dumb spy thriller ("Cash").
Or painters. You spend one month painting blue pictures because that's the color the celebrity collectors are buying this season ("Cash"), you spend the next month painting red pictures because secretly you despise the color blue and love the color red ("Sex").
Or geeks. You spend you weekdays writing code for a faceless corporation ("Cash"), then you spend your evening and weekends writing anarchic, weird computer games to amuse your techie friends with ("Sex").
It's balancing the need to make a good living while still maintaining one's creative sovereignty. My M.O. is gapingvoid ("Sex"), coupled with my day job ("Cash").
I'm thinking about the young writer who has to wait tables to pay the bills, in spite of her writing appearing in all the cool and hip magazines.... who dreams of one day of not having her life divided so harshly.
Well, over time the 'harshly' bit might go away, but not the 'divided'.
"This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended."
As soon as you accept this, I mean really accept this, for some reason your career starts moving ahead faster. I don't know why this happens. It's the people who refuse to cleave their lives this way- who just want to start Day One by quitting their current crappy day job and moving straight on over to best-selling author... Well, they never make it.
Anyway, it's called "The Sex & Cash Theory". Keep it under your pillow.

8. Companies that squelch creativity can no longer compete with companies that champion creativity.
Nor can you bully a subordinate into becoming a genius.

Since the modern, scientifically-conceived corporation was invented in the early half of the Twentieth Century, creativity has been sacrificed in favor of forwarding the interests of the "Team Player".
Fair enough. There was more money in doing it that way; that's why they did it.
There's only one problem. Team Players are not very good at creating value on their own. They are not autonomous; they need a team in order to exist.
So now corporations are awash with non-autonomous thinkers.
"I don't know. What do you think?""I don't know. What do you think?""I don't know. What do you think?""I don't know. What do you think?""I don't know. What do you think?""I don't know. What do you think?"
And so on.
Creating an economically viable entity where lack of original thought is handsomely rewarded creates a rich, fertile environment for parasites to breed. And that's exactly what's been happening. So now we have millions upon millions of human tapeworms thriving in the Western World, making love to their Powerpoint presentations, feasting on the creativity of others.
What happens to an ecology, when the parasite level reaches critical mass?
The ecology dies.
If you're creative, if you can think independantly, if you can articulate passion, if you can override the fear of being wrong, then your company needs you now more than it ever did. And now your company can no longer afford to pretend that isn't the case.
So dust off your horn and start tooting it. Exactly.
However if you're not paricularly creative, then you're in real trouble. And there's no buzzword or "new paradigm" that can help you. They may not have mentioned this in business school, but... people like watching dinosaurs die.

9. Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb.
You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don't make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow-line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness.

This metaphorical Mount Everest doesn't have to manifest itself as "Art". For some people, yes, it might be a novel or a painting. But Art is just one path up the mountain, one of many. With others the path may be something more prosaic. Making a million dollars, raising a family, owning the most Burger King franchises in the Tri-State area, building some crazy oversized model airplane, the list has no end.
Whatever. Let's talk about you now. Your mountain. Your private Mount Everest. Yes, that one. Exactly.
Let's say you never climb it. Do you have a problem witb that? Can you just say to yourself, "Never mind, I never really wanted it anyway" and take up stamp collecting instead?
Well, you could try. But I wouldn't believe you. I think it's not OK for you never to try to climb it. And I think you agree with me. Otherwise you wouldn't have read this far.
So it looks like you're going to have to climb the frickin' mountain. Deal with it.
My advice? You don't need my advice. You really don't. The biggest piece of advice I could give anyone would be this:
"Admit that your own private Mount Everest exists. That is half the battle."And you've already done that. You really have. Otherwise, again, you wouldn't have read this far.
Rock on.

10. The more talented somebody is, the less they need the props.
Meeting a person who wrote a masterpiece on the back of a deli menu would not surprise me. Meeting a person who wrote a masterpiece with a silver Cartier fountain pen on an antique writing table in an airy SoHo loft would SERIOUSLY surprise me.

Abraham Lincoln wrote The Gettysberg Address on the back of his paper lunch bag, sitting on a park bench.
James Joyce wrote with a simple pencil and notebook. Somebody else did the typing.
Van Gough never started a painting with more than six colors on his palette.
I draw on the back of wee biz cards. Whatever.
There's no correlation between creativity and equipment ownership. None. Zilch. Nada.
Actually, as the artist gets more into his thing, and as he gets more successful, his number of tools tends to go down. He knows what works for him. Expending mental energy on stuff wastes time. He's a man on a mission. He's got a deadline. He's got some rich client breathing down his neck. The last thing he wants is to spend 3 weeks learning how to use a router drill if he doesn't need to.
A fancy tool just gives the second-rater one more pillar to hide behind.
Which is why there are so many second-rate art directors with state-of-the-art Macinotsh computers.
Which is why there are so many hack writers with state-of-the-art laptops.
Which is why there are so many crappy photographers with state-of-the-art digital cameras.
Which is why there are so many unremarkable painters with expensive studios in trendy neighborhoods.
Hiding behind pillars, all of them.
Pillars do not help; they hinder. The more mighty the pillar, the more you end up relying on it psychologically, the more it gets in your way.
And this applies to business, as well.
Which is why there are so many failing businesses with fancy offices.
Which is why there's so many failing businessmen spending a fortune on fancy suits and expensive yacht club memberships.
Again, hiding behind pillars.
Successful people, artists and non-artists alike, are very good at spotting pillars. They're very good at doing without them. Even more importantly, once they've spotted a pillar, they're very good at quickly getting rid of it.
Good pillar management is one of the most valuable talents you can have on the planet. If you have it, I envy you. If you don't, I pity you.
But nobody's perfect. We all have our pillars. We seem to need them. You are never going to live a pillar-free existence. Neither am I.
All we can do is keep asking the question, "Is this a pillar" about every aspect of our business, our craft, our reason for being alive etc and go from there. The more we ask, the better we get at spotting pillars, the more quickly the pillars vanish.
Ask. Keep asking. And then ask again. Stop asking and you're dead.

11. Don't try to stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether.
Your plan for getting your work out there has to be as original as the actual work, perhaps even more so. The work has to create a totally new market. There's no point trying to do the same thing as 250,000 other young hopefuls, waiting for a miracle. All existing business models are wrong. Find a new one.

I've seen it so many times. Call him Ted. A young kid in the big city, just off the bus, wanting to be a famous something: artist, writer, musician, film director, whatever. He's full of fire, full of passion, full of ideas. And you meet Ted again five or ten years later, and he's still tending bar at the same restaurant. He's not a kid anymore. But he's still no closer to his dream.
His voice is still as defiant as ever, certainly, but there's an emptiness to his words that wasn't there before.
Yeah, well, Ted probably chose a very well-trodden path. Write novel, be discovered, publish bestseller, sell movie rights, retire rich in 5 years. Or whatever.
No worries that there's probably 3 million other novelists/actors/musicians/painters etc with the same plan. But you see, Ted's special. His fortune will defy the odds eventually. Exactly. That's what he keeps telling you as he refills your glass.
Is your plan of a similar ilk? If it is, then I'd be concerned.
When I started the business card cartoons I was lucky; at the time I had a pretty well-paid corporate job in New York that I liked. The idea of quitting it in order to join the ranks of Bohemia didn't even occur to me. What, leave Manhattan for Brooklyn? Ha. Not bloody likely. I was just doing it to amuse myself in the evenings, to give me something to do at the bar while I waited for my date to show up or whatever.
There was no commerical incentive or larger agenda governing my actions. If I wanted to draw on the back of a business card instead of a "proper" medium, I could. If I wanted to use a four letter word, I could. If I wanted to ditch the standard figurative format and draw psychotic abstractions instead, I could. There was no flashy media or publishing executive to keep happy. And even better, there was no artist-lifestyle archetype to conform to.
It gave me a lot of freedom. That freedom paid off in spades later.
Question how much freedom your path affords you. Be utterly ruthless about it.
It's your freedom that will get you to where you want to go. Blind faith in an over-subscribed, vainglorious myth will only hinder you.
Is you plan unique? Is there nobody else doing it? Then I'd be excited. A little scared, maybe, but excited.

12. If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you.
The pain of making the necessary sacrifices always hurts more than you think it's going to. I know. It sucks. That being said, doing something seriously creative is one of the most amazing experiences one can have, in this or any other lifetime. If you can pull it off, it's worth it. Even if you don't end up pulling it off, you'll learn many incredible, magical, valuable things. It's NOT doing it when you know you full well you HAD the opportunity- that hurts FAR more than any failure.

Gollum's Song

 

Where once was light

Now darkness falls

Where once was love

Love is no more

 

Don’t say – goodbye

Don’t say – I didn’t try

 

These tears we cry

Are falling rain

For all the lies

You told us

The hurt, the blame!

 

And we will weep

To be so alone

We are lost!

We can never go home.

 

So in the end

I will be what I will be

No loyal friend

Was ever there for me.

 

Now we say goodbye

We say you didn’t try

 

These tears you cry

Have come too late

Take back the lies

The hurt, the blame!

 

And you will weep

When you face the end alone

You are lost,

You can never go home.

You are lost,
You can never go home...

 

Can't tell you how moving this song is....

I never realized how perverted Bambi was in my youth. I am a wiser man this day...

Bambi Taken Completely Out Of Context

"I figure three inches is plenty long."
"I want it hard! "
"I didn't feel it squish!"
"Well quit sucking on it; it isn't making it any better!"
"I'm not sure if it looks good smaller."
"You have a big one!"
"Give me a thrill ride!" "
There! I elongonated him!"
"How did I get it bigger before? Oh! This is how I did it!"
"I started playing around with it, and woooo!"
"Well, how does it go in?"
"It's this great big, humongous long thing!"

As if this wasn't enough, here's my favorite list of quotes I'm glad they didn't use in The Lord Of The Rings movies.

Witch-king: Mordor, we have a problem.
Apollo 13

Sauron to Saruman: You're not quite evil enough. You're semi-evil. You're quasi-evil. You're the margarine of evil. You're the Diet Coke of evil, just one calorie, not evil enough.
Austin Powers

Aragorn (after decapitating Lurtz): Not the time to lose one's head.
Legolas: No.
Aragorn: That's not the way to get ahead in life.
Legolas: No.
Aragorn: It's a shame he wasn't more headstrong.
Legolas: Hmm.
Aragorn: He'll never be the head of a major corporation.
Legolas: Okay, that'll do.
Aragorn: Okay.
Austin Powers

Gandalf in Moria: I just want to apologize to Sam's mom, and Pippin's mom, and Merry’s mom. I am so sorry! Because it was my fault. I was the one who brought them here. I was the one that said ‘keep going South.’ I was the one who said that we were not lost. It was my fault, because it was my project. I am so scared! I know what's out there. We are going to die out here! I am so scared!
The Blair Witch Project
 
Boromir (in Moria re cave troll): Of all the places in all the mountains in all the world, it walks into a mine.
Casablanca
 
Frodo to Boromir: There's only two people I trust. One is me. The other is not you.
Con Air

Galadriel to Frodo: It's like looking in a mirror. Only... not.
Face/Off
 
Frodo to Boromir: You want the Ring... YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE RING
A Few Good Men

Sauron to Saruman: Those orcs you sold me,they won't mate. They just walk around, eating, and not mating. You sold me... queer orcs. I want my money back.
Gladiator
 
Strider to Pippin: How'd you like them apples?
Good Will Hunting

Aragorn: Nazgûl. I hate these guys.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
 
Aragorn to Frodo after Moria: Are you crying?! Are you crying?! There's no crying on this quest!
A League Of Their Own
 
Elrond: Men? Men are weak. The race of men is failing. The blood of Numenor is all but spent. It's pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of men the ring survives. I'd like to share a revelation during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify their species. I realized that they're not actually mammals. Every mammal in Middle Earth instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but men do not. They move to an area and they multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed. The only way they can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism in Middle Earth that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Men are a disease, a cancer of this Middle Earth. They are a plague, and we are the cure. I'm going to be honest with you. I hate this place, this zoo, this prison, this reality, whatever you want to call it. I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste Isildur’s stink. And every time I do I feel I have somehow been infected by it. It's repulsive, isn't it? I must get out of here. I must get free. When’s the next ferry to Valinor?
The Matrix
 
Gandalf (in Moria): It reads 'Here may be found the last words of aaarrrggghhhh....
'Monty Python And The Holy Grail
 
Aragorn: Hand me my sword.Boromir: Which one is it?Aragorn: It's the one with ‘bad !!!!!!!!!!!!’ written on it. In Elvish.
Pulp Fiction
 
Legolas (looking at the orcs outside Helm’s Deep): How many?
Aragorn: 10,000.
Aragorn: 10,000?
Haldir: (further away) How many?
Legolas: 50! (to Aragorn) He can't count anyway.
Robin Hood Prince Of Thieves
 
Aragorn: Oh my God. They killed Gandalf. You  bastards!
South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut
 
Frodo looking in Galadriels mirror: What the hell am I looking at? When does this happen in the movie?
Spaceballs
 
Frodo: They call me Mr. Frodo
Unbreakable
 
Frodo: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sam: Why not?
Frodo: What I'm saying is and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form is that hobbit-hole owners and gardeners can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sam: That's not true. I have a number of hobbit-hole owner friends and there is no sex involved.
Frodo: No you don't.
Sam: Yes I do.
Frodo: No you don't.
Sam: Yes I do.
Frodo: You only think you do.
Sam: You say I'm having sex with these hobbits without my knowledge?
Frodo: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sam: They do not!
Frodo: Do too.
Sam: They do not.
Frodo: Do too.
Sam: How do you know?
Frodo: Because no hobbit-hole owner can be friends with a gardener that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with him.
Sam: So, you're saying that a hobbit-hole owner can be friends with a gardener he finds unattractive?
Frodo: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sam: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Frodo: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sam: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Frodo: I guess not.
Sam: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in Mordor.
When Harry Met Sally

And now we move onto The Two Towers Commentary :D

The Two Very Tall Buildings:

Disc I
 

• This time we begin with unused footage from some IMAX film. The mountains are almost… hypnotic.
• The Balrog is *really* wishing his wings were actually good for flying right now.
• Sam is apparently willing to sacrifice Frodo for his Box O’ Salt. Trust me, you don’t want to know how far he’d go for a pinch of oregano.
• For being a bloodthirsty brute, the leader of the uruks can sure annunciate his words. “Keep your mouth shu-T!”
•  think I know why it’s taking so long for the Three Hunters to catch up to the uruks. Every two minutes they stop and talk like they’re auditioning for a Shakespearian play.
• Look at how Gimli always falls behind in every running sequence. I think between shots, he jumps into a golf cart to make up the distance. Cheater!
• Spontaneous court drama in the Golden Hall! Eomer presents the evidence and the case seems air-tight, but Grima is as slick as his name. Eomer’s like: *clunck* “Here ya go Wormy, explain this helmet!” But then Wormtongue’s all like: “Whatever. You are *so* banished. And by the way, I got the hots for your sister.” Ouch. Eomer got ownzed.
• I’d love it if Aragorn called out to the Rohirrim, and they just kept on riding away. Aragorn: “Riders of Rohan! What news from the- hey! HEY! I’m talking to you!”
• Gandalf’s sword becomes Glamy of Lightning Damage +20. Tell us, Balrog, how does it feel to be smote?
• Wormtongue is just oozing pick-up lines at Eowyn. Though, there are probably better places to woo a girl you like other than the death-room of said girl’s cousin. Better luck next time, Grima. This isn't Three Weddings and a Funeral.
• Mean ol’ Gandalf is using his staff to give Theoden the worst case of constipation in his life. That’s just not right.
• Saruman: “Gandalf The White? Gandalf The Fool!” Saruman is just like us. You always think of the good come-backs *after* the argument is over. I feel for ya, man.
• “It will begin at Edoras.” “It will begin in Rohan” Saruman has this thing with beginnings. I wonder if he’s like this all day. “I am hungry. I shall eat dinner. It will begin in my kitchen.”

Disc II

• Gimli’s horse has inadvertently discovered the one weakness of Dwarves. Throw them onto their back and they’re as helpless as a tortoise. Gimli: “Um… a little help, please!”
• The King is ancient!... yet Eowyn is still gah-gah about him. What is it about women and older men, anyway?!
• Arwen: “This is not the end… It is the beginning.” Saruman would be so proud of her.
• The cameraman is supposed to focus on the Evenstar around Aragorn’s neck… but I think he’s just a liiiiitle too preoccupied with Arwen at the moment. Gives new meaning to the words “trust us”, I suppose.
• Theoden: “What is it?!” Aragorn: “Wargs! We’re under attack! We’re all gonna die! AAAAAAAH! *runs away*” That’s our King, always ready for a fight.
• As the wargs crest the hill, I think Legolas is trying really hard to get lasers to shoot out of his eyes.
• Eowyn: “I can fight!” Theoden: “No!” Oh, yes she can, Theoden, you chauvinist pig!
• Legolas initiates Long-Range-Artillery Mode. The elf is a one-eldar army!
• Legolas says: “Mind if I join you, Gimli?!” Leggy has l33t horse-mounting skillz!
• What’s this?! The Warg Captain has an Evenstar of his own! Yuck. Do elf maidens *ever* get boyfriends from their own species?!
• Theoden tries to be so subtle with Eowyn. “Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives…including your boyfriend- ANYWAY! Moving on….”
• “But, my lord, there is no such force.” Saruman should thank Grima. A set-up line like that only comes once in a decade!
• Half-dead Aragorn thinks his true love has come to save him, but actually Brego is just getting a little fresh. Even non-humanoids dig this guy!
• Arwen really stands by her Man in this scene, doesn’t she? Arwen: “There is still hope.” Elrond: “No there isn’t.” Arwen: “You’re right, there isn’t.” Elrond: “Take the ship, dear.” Arwen: “Ok. *leaves*” Maybe Aragorn should choose Eowyn after all.
• Hey, it’s Galadriel. Remember her? She’s using her Anytime Minutes to call up Elrond. I wonder: when you get such a call, does your ring ring?
• Looks like Faramir has managed to steal the movie-map. He really *is* the Prince of Thieves!- Faramir: “Your bodyguard?” Sam: “His gardener.” Sam’s best line of the trilogy as far as I’m concerned.
• Faramir: “He had an ill-favored look.” That’s the most diplomatic way of describing Gollum I’ve ever heard. Faramir might go on to describe Sauron as “well-sighted”.
• Gollum’s taking a dip in Faramir’s private Jacuzzi. The penalty for such an act is DEATH!
• Aragorn: “It is an army bred for a single purpose… to give this film an epic battle sequence.”
• Eowyn: “I’m to be sent with the women and children” Aragorn: “That is a noble charge.” Oh yeah, Aragorn? Then why don’t you do it and let Eowyn get some orc-busting action!
• An entmoot makes the Council of Elrond seem like a blur of efficiency.
• Legolas: “Your friends are with you, Aragorn.” Thanks, Leggy. I thought they were on the Moon or something.
• Uruk Translator: “UUUUUOOOOOAAAAH!” means “Company, halt!”- Uruks singing: “We will, we will, ROCK YOU!”
• Uruk Translator: “RAAAAAAAH!” means “Commence the attack!”
• Theoden: “So it begins….” Saruman’s spirit has not completely left this man.
• Theoden: “Is this all you can conjure, Saruman?” *Two* great set-up lines in one moive?! Saruman, you lucky dog!
• Uruk Beserker #369 was awarded the honor of carrying the Torch of Dooooom for the last few hundred yards due to his excellent ability to shake off the pain caused by many arrows being shot into his upper torso.
• After the explosion, Theoden has this great deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Um… what just happened?”
• Theoden distracts Aragorn and Gimli so that the uruks get the drop on them, then just boards up the gate without another word! You’re a jerk, Theoden.
• I think Faramir and his Merry Men are lost. They’ve stumbled into a World War II movie set.
• Theoden: “We’re doomed.” Aragorn: “Wait! I got an idea! Let’s charge blindly into them!” Theoden: “Alright! Let’s do it!” This quickly becomes Theoden’s favorite strategy.
• Even the Sun is fighting for the good-guys now! This is excellent!
• Treebeard wants to water Saruman’s lawn… permanently.
• Uruk-Hai: “Look! A convenient forest in which to escape! What luck! We’re saved and- WAAAAAAAAA!” Poor, gullible Uruk-Hai.

Some funny Fellowship of the Ring Commentary and Observations :)

Disc I

• I’m a big proponent of having the title be the final words of the narration…. Of course, this would mean that the movie would have to be titled: None Now Live Who Remember It… and that’s just not as cool as Lord of the Rings
• I love how each race reacts to the rings. The elves look at them like: “Ooo, shiney things!” the dwarves are like: “Alright! Rings rock!” and the men are like: “What the heck are these for?!”
• Just in case you missed the narration, the word MORDOR is quite prevalent on the map
• I wonder, did Isildur unsheathe his sword at the start of the march and walk with it out all the way to Mordor? I think someone’s desperate to show that they’re the boss. Although it would explain why Aragorn likes to have his own sword out all the time
• There’s Frodo and Gandalf, just yucking it up. For some reason, I giggle at the thought of Frodo leaping towards the wizard’s embrace, but missing and going right over the cart…. I’m a mean person.
• Hey! Whadaya know! My spellchecker recognizes the names “Frodo” and “Gandalf”. Bill Gates must be a fan.
• Hmm, the movie could’ve ended rather prematurely there. Bilbo: “We don’t want anymore visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!” Gandalf: “Oh! I’m terribly sorry.” *leaves* THE END
• Bilbo must be really drunk. He stands up and gives perhaps the most staggering, incoherent speech in Middle-Earth since that one time when Celeborn was asked to dedicate a new water theme-park at the Grey Havens.
• The cameraman must be a wraith! He can see Biblo with the ring on, and follow his movements. Look out behind you, Bilbo!
• “I’m not trying to rob you! I’m trying to help you.” Spoken like a true used-car salesman. Look at these low prices! Gandalf must be crazy!
• Boo! There’s Sauron. Remember him? He’s an eye now! Who would’ve thought?! Ya know how pirates always have one eye missing? Well this pirate has lost everything *except* one eye. That’s hardcore! Sauron The Eye says: Hands off me ring, old man, yarrr!
• Frodo: “I don’t understand.” Gandalf: “Neither do I.” See? It’s just like real life. No one has a single clue as to what’s going on!
• Poor Gandalf has so much faith in Saruman. “He’ll know what to do.” Yeah, like JOIN SAURON!
• After the first door slams shut, Gandalf must have thought that the wind did it, and not because Saruman might just be wanting him to stay for tea. It takes four or five doors before Gandalf gets the picture. A little slow there, I think.
• Pippin: “He’s over there. Frodo Baggins.” Well, Frodo had a secret identity for all of FIVE MINUTES. Way to go, Pippin.
• Nazgul lose cool-points for trying to outrun the river by fleeing DOWNSTREAM.
• There were some wicked drugs in that Morgul blade. Frodo is totally trippin’. He even thinks Elrond looks like Agent Smith!
• Elrond Half-Elven is also Elrond-Hairline-Receeded. Must be his human blood.
• Once again, we are treated to a variety of looks, this time for Rivendell. Boromir’s look says: “Did I take a wrong turn?” Legolas says: “If anyone of these elves is prettier than me, I’ll tear them apart!” and Gimli says: “Well, I’m here. Whop-dee-do. Can I go home now?”
• Boromir: “This is Isildur’s heir?” and Legolas reveals himself as Aragorn’s first and foremost fanboy. “He’s heir to the throne of Gondor, human. You best RECOGNIZE!”
• Aragorn: “You have my sword” Legolas: “And you have my bow” Gimli: “And my axe” (whips out electric guitar) Sam: “And my plain hobbit sense” Pippin and Merry: “And our witty comedy” Boromir: “And my angst” Way to contribute, Boromir.

Disc II
 

• As the Fellowship travels, you can see Pippin almost bouncing as he walks. I bet he’s singing some really annoying song. “99 rings of power on the ground, 99 rings of power, pick one up, to twist and corrupt, 98 rings of power on the ground! Come on, everybody!”
• When the nine companions crest the hill in grand fashion, I always imagine Boromir tripping at the end, and causing everyone else to fall down with him… in slow motion… with the dramatic music still playing.
• Gandalf employs the most liberal use of the word “pass” I have ever encountered. According to wizards, a pass is the peak of the tallest mountain in sight. Go figure.
• Oooo, Boromir has the ring. The tension in the Fellowship is palpable. Aragorn’s ready to give Boromir a haircut he’ll never forget.
• After Legolas walks effortlessly up the snowy path, I always expect him to then snowboard down. Arrogant elves.
• Legolas: “Goblins.” No my dear Leggy, that’s an arrow. Goblins are green and not so pointy. Why are the pretty ones always so dumb...
• I love it that Gandalf bangs his staff on the ground twice, because the first time the light doesn’t turn on all the way. Magic is like technology, sometimes a good hit or two is all you need to get things working.
• Near the mine-shaft, Pippin *so* saves Merry from falling, but does Merry say thank-you? No! Then he chastises Pippin about tripping on the stairs. You’re a jerk, Merry.
• Legolas: “We must move on. We cannot linger.” The redundancy of these statements leads me to conclude that Legolas is in love with his own voice. Looking at Aragorn, I think he agrees with me.
• Gandalf: “To the bridge of Khazad-dum!” That’s the orchestra’s cue, you see?
• I don’t buy the argument that the lack of handrails in Moria is due to the Dwarves’ lower center of gravity. There were serious cuts-backs in Moria’s safety budget. I hate bureaucracies.
• Legolas will now demonstrate the newest elven innovation: Goblin-Seeking Arrows. It’s the elf-version of the cruise missile. Leggy is high-tech
• Gandalf takes a dive. Judges?... 5.9, 5.9, 5.9, 5.9, and a 3.5? I think the goblin judge is biased.
• Haldir may be incredibly heterosexual… but I’m not so sure about that elf on his right.
• When Boromir tripped, he should’ve rolled down the hill all the way to the riverbank, cursing the whole time: “Ow! D’oh! Sonofa-! Ack! Ooof!”
• One might think that Aragorn refuses the One Ring out of strength of will, but really it’s because he already has a ring on his own… and he likes his better.
• Right after Aragorn salutes the Uruk-Hai taskforce, I want him to raise his blade high and shout: BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL! Male Choir: “He-Man!”
• Only Lurtz was smart enough to bring a bow. This is why he’s the leader.
• Forget the Energizer! Boromir just keeps going (*twack*) and going (*twack*) and going (*twack*… *thump*)… never mind.
• Lurtz makes the crucial mistake of forgetting that bows are long-range weapons. Aragorn sees to it that he pays for this error.
• Sam gets 100 points for being persistent and -1000 points for nearly drowning himself.
• Instead of giving Boromir a proper burial, Aragorn thinks it’s much funnier to steal his gauntlets, hurl his corpse into the river, and let it go over the waterfall to get smashed onto the rocks below. You’re one sick man, Mr. SonofArathorn.
• Aragorn: “Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands.” Well, the King’s thrown in the towel. We’re fast running out of heroes.
• Gimli is ecstatic about hunting orcs. This is his purpose in life.

May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh! How far you are from home

Mornië utúlië (Quenya: Darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië (Quenya: Darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome

You may rise to find the sun
Mornië utúlië (Quenya: Darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië (Quenya: Darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now
A promise lives within you now

-Enya~May It Be-

Researchers in the Säo Paulo University's Physics Department have successfully connected a group of 11 neurons from a blue crab's mouth parts to a computer, allowing them to control the movements of the crabs mouth parts via electrical signals.

By learning more about how to replicate the function of the crustaceans' neurons, the researchers hope to be able to someday build a giant, samba-dancing, capoira-kicking robotic crab walker with which to impose a Brazilian dominance over the entirety of mankind.

Or they want to build prosthetic arms for humans; I forget which.

When you give teenagers a bunch of Lego, nine times out of ten your going to end up with a leaky Lego-bong that they try to seal up with the shellac from the garage, and you're going to have to take them to the hospital after they inhale still-toxic-even-if-water-filtered fumes. But on that tenth time, they're instead going to create a combination Xbox and Super Nintendo -- the SNEX box, they will call it -- and post those pictures to the internet. Is it the best case mod ever? Well, no, not really, but at least they aren't hepped up on the goofballs.

I amar prestar aen…The world is changed.
han mathon ne nen…I feel it in the water.
han mathon ne chae…I feel it in the Earth.
a han noston ned gwilith.I smell it in the air.
Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it.

It began with the forging of the great rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else, desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made.

In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a master ring, to control all others. And into this Ring, he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life."One Ring to rule them all."

One by one, free lands in Middle-Earth fell to the power of the Ring. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor and on the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth.

Victory was near. But the power of the Ring could not be undone.

It was in this moment when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the King, took up his father's sword.

Sauron, the enemy of the free-peoples of Middle-Earth was defeated. The Ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever.

But the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And the Ring of Power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur to his death. And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.

History became legend, legend became myth and for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer.

The Ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. And there, it consumed him.

The Ring brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited. Darkness crept back into the forest of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the east, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived. Its time had now come.

It abandoned Gollum.

But something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable.

A Hobbit: Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.

For the time soon come when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.

My blog is getting prettier by the day.
Look at the new Eternal Sunshine theme :)
Finally got it to work! A little bit is cut off at the bottom, but we'll see if I can't remedy that.

I love some of these stories and pics. Thought I'd share a couple fun ones with you all.

At the close of the final exam, the proctor announced time was up and directed the students to turn their blue books in. One student, hastening to finish a thought, kept scribbling. Finishing, he rushed to the front of the room and handed in his exam book, one of the last to do so. The proctor said, "I won't accept this," and the flabbergasted student asked why. "I told everyone to stop and you kept on going. I can't accept it." The student was aghast. "What'll happen then?" "You'll probably flunk," shrugged the proctor. With that, the student drew himself up proudly and asked, "Do you know who I am?" Unimpressed, the proctor answered, "No." The student replied, "Good," and jammed his blue book into the center of the pile on the desk.

 Always write something on those exams and tests. You never know what you'll get credit for!:

1, 2, 3, 4, & 5

Hehe some mindfun for the time being :P

Ok I'm such a Star Wars nerd even after all these years but I had to post this the second I found out.

SAN DIEGO (Hollywood Reporter) - Next year's third and final installment of the "Star Wars" prequels will be called "Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith," the film's producers said Saturday.

The name was unveiled Saturday for 6,500 comic-book fans at the 35th annual Comic-Con International in San Diego. Many in the audience jumped out of their seats, thunderously screaming in joy. Some even gave one another hugs. (LOL)

For the uninitiated, the evil Sith are sworn enemies of the Jedi, the saber-wielding knights whose numbers include Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker.

"Star Wars" creator George Lucas reignited the lucrative franchise in 1999 with "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace," which grossed $431 million domestically. In 2002, he released "Star Wars: Episode II -- Attack of the Clones," which ended up with $311 million. While both were hotly anticipated, their screenplay and acting shortcomings did underwhelm many hardcore fans.

The new film, set for release May 19, marks the return of Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker, a.k.a Darth Vader, and Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

BOO YAH. I so can't wait for Ep III.

To celebrate the delivery (expected and anticipated delivery actually) of my "Terminal" movie poster today, I'm posting about the real life events that the movie is based upon. Didn't know someone was actually living in an airport eh? Well here's the full story:

Claim:  A man has been living at a Paris airport since 1988.

Status: True.

Origins:  What follows is one representative newspaper account of the strange story of Merhan Karimi Nasseri, a man without country, trapped by his lack of papers in Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris, France, since 26 August 1988:

He could be any passenger waiting for a flight, sitting patiently on a red plastic bench in Charles de Gaulle Airport's Terminal One, luggage piled neatly by his side. He sips a cup of hot chocolate and scans the crowd, occasionally cocking his head to listen to the airport announcements. He peruses a book, Hillary Rodham Clinton's "It Takes a Village."

But Merhan Karimi Nasseri is going nowhere. He has been waiting for a flight out of France, he says, for 10 years. Nasseri was expelled from Iran a decade ago for his political views. Through a series of fateful missteps, he landed here without any documents. Since then, Europe's increasingly stiff stance toward refugees and his fragile mental state have kept him at the airport here in legal limbo. His is a story of broken hopes and bureaucracy, of a trip across Europe in search of a homeland that became a journey into mental chaos and despair. And it is a story of a man who has searched for his family, only to find an adopted one here, at Charles de Gaulle. "He's like a part of the airport. Everyone knows him," says Muhamed Mourrid, the manager of the Bye Bye Bar, pointing to the spot where Nasseri, 47, has lived for a decade. "That's his table, his chair, his place." Adds Marise Petry, a Lufthansa clerk, "He's one of us. We even get letters for him."

Among the annals of horrific refugee tales, Nasseri's story is remarkable for its pathos and complexity. It begins in Iran in 1977, when Nasseri, fresh from studying in England, was expelled for protesting against the shah. His expulsion left him without a passport. Nasseri came to Europe. He bounced from capital to capital, applying for refugee status and being refused, again and again, for nearly four years. In 1981, his request for political asylum from Iran was finally granted by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees in Belgium. That decision gave him refugee credentials, which in turn allowed him to seek citizenship in a European country. The son of an Iranian and a Briton, Nasseri decided in 1986 on England with the hope of finding relatives there. He got as far as Paris, where in 1988 his briefcase containing his refugee documents was stolen in a train station. Nasseri boarded a plane for London anyway. But when officials at Heathrow Airport found he had no passport, they sent him back to Charles de Gaulle. At first, the French police arrested him for illegal entry. But as Nasseri had no documents, there was no country of origin to which he could be deported. So he took up residence in Terminal One. From its circular confines, he and his attorney, the Paris-based human rights lawyer Christian Bourget, battled to define his status and send him to London.

In 1992, a French court finally ruled that Nasseri had entered the airport legally as a refugee and could not be expelled from it. But the court could not force the French government to allow him out of the airport onto French soil. In fact, Bourget said, French authorities refused to give Nasseri either a refugee or transit visa. "It was pure bureaucracy," said the lawyer. French immigration authorities have no comment on the case. Bourget and Nasseri then focused on Belgium, where they hoped to reclaim Nasseri's original refugee documents. But Belgian refugee officials refused to mail them to him in France. They argued that Nasseri had to present himself in person so that they could be sure he was the same man to whom they had granted political asylum years before. But, inexplicably, the Belgian government refused at that point to allow Nasseri to return there. And under Belgian law, a refugee who voluntarily leaves a country that has accepted him cannot return.

In 1995, the Belgian government finally told Nasseri that he could retrieve his refugee documents if he agreed to live in Belgium under the supervision of a social worker. Nasseri refused. He said he would move only to Great Britain. And so here he has remained, year after year. At first glance, the dignified man does not appear to be a refugee who sleeps on an airport bench because he has nowhere else to go. His clothes are clean, his moustache well-trimmed. He keeps his one blazer covered with plastic wrap, hanging from an airport cart. His belongings are carefully packed in a frayed suitcase and a stack of Lufthansa boxes. Nasseri nods hello to a clerk, who calls him "Alfred," his nickname here. He follows the news closely, thanks to the most recent Time magazine, which the postman has just dropped off. And he loves to discuss the new selections from the Book-of-the-Month Club. "I just keep on reading, every day," said the soft-spoken Nasseri, a courtly gentleman who rises and offers his seat to a visitor. "I just keep waiting here." His pallid complexion is testament to his inability to cross the airport threshold to the outside world. He walks to the doors of Terminal One and absorbs fresh air as they swing open. But he never steps outside. His hollow cheeks and thin frame show the limits of the generosity of airport staff and strangers to help with his meals. Nasseri's confused account of his plight speaks to the psychological price he has paid in his fight to become a man who belongs somewhere. "Nobody could suffer all he did and stay normal," noted Bourget. The sad truth is this: After fighting for years to leave the airport and apply for citizenship elsewhere, Nasseri was afraid to do so when the opportunity arose. Belgium offered Nasseri the chance to settle there, but he refused. "Now, I think he will stay in the airport until he dies," Bourget concluded softly.

His bizarre tale has brought him a degree of fame. He has been the subject of news reports from Finland to Britain. His life story became a 1994 French film, starring Jean Rochefort. Nasseri gets fewer visitors now to punctuate the long days down on Terminal One's boutique level, ringed with stores and small cafes. But he still has a following who help clothe and feed him and lift his spirits. "He does no harm to anyone," said Papa Starr, manager of the Les Palmes restaurant. "Everyone cares for him here." Several times a week, the airport priest stops by to visit him, as does Dr. Phillipe Bargain, the airport doctor. Many staff regularly visit him at his table for a cup of coffee and a chat. "I get lots of cards at Christmas," he said. "I call it my American Christmas." His life follows the quotidian airport cycle. He wakes at 5:30 in order to shave in the men's room before passengers arrive. He reads all day long. At night, he waits until the airport stores are locked before he brushes his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste from a complimentary airline travel kit. Weekly, he rinses out his clothes overnight in the bathroom. Nasseri is renowned throughout the airport for his refusal to ask for help. "We have a colleague who gave him clothes, but he returned them, saying 'I'm not a beggar,'" said Crystelle L'Hospitalier, a Lufthansa clerk. But he has to eat, and accepts occasional meal vouchers and francs from stewardesses and airport staff.

As the years have slipped by, it has become increasingly clear that Nasseri will never leave Charles de Gaulle. His airport years have made him "crazier by the day," on the topic of his future, said airport doctor Bargain. When he talks about flying to London, the staff here greet him with understanding smiles. "An airport is kind of a place between heaven and earth," said Danielle Yzerman, spokeswoman for Charles de Gaulle. "He has found a home here."1 Nasseri, who has since adopted the name "Sir, Alfred Merhan" (that's not a typo — Nasseri took both the title and its misplaced comma from a mistake in a letter from British immigration), has changed the story he tells about his background several times over the years:

Over the years, he has claimed many things about his origins. At one time his mother was Swedish, another time English. Nasseri's effectively reinvented himself in the Charles de Gaulle airport and denies these days that he's Iranian, deflecting any conversation about his childhood in Tehran. ("He pretends he doesn't speak Persian," his longtime lawyer, Christian Bourguet, says. "He was interviewed by Iranian journalists and made believe he didn't understand.") When we first met two years ago, he insisted that the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees was attempting to locate his parents in order to establish his identity. But a spokeswoman for the agency dismissed the assertion as "pure folly." Early on in his saga, Nasseri maintained that he was expelled from his homeland for antigovernment activity in 1977. According to a number of reports, Nasseri protested against the regime of Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlevi while a student in England, and when he returned to Iran, found himself imprisoned, and shortly thereafter exiled. He bounced around Europe for a few years with temporary refugee papers, alighting finally in Belgium, where he was awarded official refugee status in 1981. He traveled to Britain and France without difficulty until 1988, when he landed at Charles de Gaulle airport after being denied entry into Britain, because, he contends, his passport and refugee certificate were stolen in a mugging on a Paris subway. Nasseri could not prove who he was, nor offer proof of his refugee status. So he moved into the Zone d'attente, a holding area for travelers without papers. He stayed for days, then weeks — then months, then years. As his bizarre odyssey stretched on, Bourguet, the noted French human rights lawyer, took on the case, and the news media piled on. Articles appeared around the world, and Nasseri became the subject of three documentary films. (Oddly, apparently none of his friends or relatives have attempted to contact him.)2 Nasseri is known for his honesty (when he isn't talking about himself) and his refusal of charity. On two occasions he turned in billfolds full of money that had been mislaid by passengers. Airline and airport personnel push meal vouchers on him so he can eat. "French fries are my favorite," he confides. "It's not a very healthy diet, but I get enough."

On 17 September 1999, an international travel card and a French residency permit were put into Nasseri's hands. With them, he's now free to leave the airport, either to take up residency in France or to fly to another country that will allow him entry.

He refuses to sign them, however, because they list his nationality as Iranian, and he wants it listed as British. He remains at Charles de Gaulle airport, using the excuse that he's determined to stick to this point rather than face life outside the terminal:

[In 1999] he finally got permission to leave the airport — in fact, he can now go wherever he likes in Europe. The problem is, he no longer wants to. "He is scared to leave this bubble world he has been living in," said Dr. Philippe Bargain, the airport's medical director. "Finally getting the papers has been a huge shock to him, as if he was just thrown from his horse. When you wait 11 years for something and suddenly in a few minutes you sign some papers and it's done — imagine what a shock that is." "He will have to be weaned from the airport, like an addict really." Dr. Bargain said. "Still, it does make you wonder what kind of a society we live in that this can happen to a man."3 As of the summer of 2004, Nasseri is still living in the airport. He does not lack for money — Dreamworks paid him a rumored $250,000 for the rights to his story.

Interesting stuff eh?

So I've been getting annoyed at the ignorant people who keep posting and forwarding links to me to try and bash Bush. Consider this my retaliation and try not being so naive and believing everything you read on the internet ::sigh:: you don't believe everything you see in the news do you?

Think Bush doesn't know how to read? Think again.

Guess how many times someone forwarded this to me... - So many have claimed that if it WAS real, Clinton would have never done this. Think again.

Lol ok, those two pics just always annoyed me, because I'd like to think people were so stupid as to believe Bush would KEEP looking through a capped pair of binoculars or hold a book upside down. Common sense people!