A TALE TOLD BY A DIFFERENT IDIOT:

It's like they're advertising the world's most bizarre cure for erectile dysfunction. And it's working. 

Well I was gonna talk about The Dark Knight Rises today. Finally saw it, figured it had been a couple weeks so anyone who wanted to see it had probably already done so, thereby making it safe to discuss plot points and spoilers. But then there's the rub, it's been a couple weeks and everybody's seen it, that shit's old news. Nobody wants to hear me talk about that. You know, as if everybody wants to hear all the other stuff I yammer on about most other times. But at least all the other blather that erupts from my maw is usually current (somewhat).

So without DKR as a subject that leaves me with…

This space for rent.

Yeah, that's the problem here, I got nothing. I mean if I wanted to do a current movie post then I could talk about the Total Recall remake, except I didn't see it. From the box office it's posting so far it seems no one else saw it either and from the crappy reviews I've read, I'm thinking that we're not missing very much.

All right, besides those three things we're not missing much.

And while we're on the subject of boobs, (always comes back to them somehow) let's talk about the hottie with the triple nub-nubs for a second. Why do most people — and by 'most people' I mean several specific women that I know — seem obligated to remind me that Little Miss Tri-Tit's rack isn't real? Happened just the other day at work and I wasn't even talking about the boobs. Just jawing with a buddy about how sad it is that the movie got remade in the first place when one of the front office girls passed by, overheard the chatter and just had to add her two cents with: "You know that girl's three breasts are fake, don't you?"

Now if I had countered with something along the lines of — "No f@%king shit, dickbreath! And if I didn't know, why would you go and just ruin it for me like that? Supposing for some reason that I was actually naive enough to believe that the filmmakers had scoured the world to find an actress with just the right natural attributes to play such a part and that she was a miraculous gift from God and the next step in human evolution, why you gotta be a bitch and try to spoil that for me? Wanna tell me what happens at the end of the book I'm reading? Wanna tell my kid that there's no Santa Claus and that Grandma's not really on a retirement farm running and playing with other old people? Of course they're f@%king fake! I know they're f@%king fake! The Millennium Falcon is fake too but that doesn't make it any less awesome! Matter of fact, who let you out of the f@%king kitchen so you could come here and waste my time? Run along and make yourself pretty, sweetie, the men-folk are talking!" — then I probably would've gotten into a lot of trouble. So instead I just went with the classic: "Shut the f@%k up and go make me some money!" Still got into trouble, just not as much since I used fewer hurtful words. Didn't know harassment lawyers charged by the syllable, did you? Well you've learned something today.

"Here at the law offices of Fucktard & Manhands, we make a
living off the stupid shit that comes out of Mr. Savage's mouth."

The situation was not entirely my fault though and you'd realize that if you knew this woman — we'll call her Nellie McNitwit since legally I'm not allowed to mention her name, what with pending litigation and all. Also legally banned from buying cough syrup in the Tri-State area and parts of Florida. Not sure what one has to do with the other but if the law made any sense then it wouldn't be a crime to publicly defecate in a dog park. For the record it is a crime, punishable by police-induced, non-sanctioned nightstick beatdown. And that's two things you've learned today.

This is what the officer looked like after
the third hit sent me to my happy place.

Anyway, last week Nellie pulled the same type of shit she always does, had to go and douche all over a conversation that didn't even involve her. A few of us guys were talking about the Olympics — beach volleyball in particular. And okay, I'll admit, in this instance we were being a bunch of pigs about how hot it is when the American team wins big and basically dry humps one another into the sand. (Like they did the other night. Congratulations ladies… and thank you.) And Nellie just had to drop by and remind us all that both Misty May-Treanor and Kerry Walsh-Jennings have husbands (hence the hyphens) and children. Bitch trying to take away from the beauty of the moment… as if anything could.

VICTORY WEDGIE!

Well Nellie McNitwit's a fool and I'll tell you why. We — talking about guys like me — don't care about real shit! If we wanna believe for just a moment that Misty and Kerry are making each other a little moist with their embrace, then we're not going to let reality get in the way of that. Hell, I bet even their husbands are thinking the same thing when they see it and they're made better men for it. You say the gold medal ladies ain't really as into it as we like to think they are? Big f@%king deal! You say there's no such thing as a chick with three boobs? We say, so what? Still nice to see that shit and fantasize of the day when science gone horribly wrong makes it actually happen. Same goes for things such as chicks who enjoy giving more than receiving (you know what I mean), the purity of college sports, that sexy specimen of manhood we see staring back at us in the mirror and the American Dream. None of those things are real, all of it is bullshit and we don't care! So if you're a lady and you happen to be like Nellie McNitwit and enjoy raining on a guy's parade then ask yourself this, do you want us getting just as real about what we think of your outfit?

Didn't think so.

As for my thoughts on The Dark Knight Rises… which is where all this started and probably should have stayed. But I thought it was… ehh. Coulda been better, coulda been shorter, coulda been tighter with the plotting. All in all… ehh. But the Dark Knight trilogy is over now, that story's been told and I'm on to the next thing which happens to be this!

Hey, when did Neiman Marcus start selling guns?

Mmmmmm… I just love that new Bond movie smell. It smells like… America. Even though he's British and works for the British government. But I mean, if you really think about it… Shut the f@%k up and go suck a bug!

Shit! Now I gotta call Fucktard and Manhands again. Let's see, how many offensive syllables was it this time?

It was under ten, I'll get a discount.