There’s someone inside your house! Watch your ass!
Who’s in there?? Is it yooooooooooooooooooooooooou, Tom? Is it my mom? Is it my neighbor from across the street? Is it the Schwab’s street meat guy? Is it the lady who works at the dog food store and delivers our dog food from time to time? Is it the guy I worked with in New Jersey that would stare at his monitor until it fell asleep and he would still be sitting there staring at it? Is it Mister Pubes? Is it Shitboy? Speaking of my mom – she actually just called and wanted to tell me that someone in a hood has been ringing their doorbell at night and running away. “Did you guys call the police?” I ask. “No, they have more important things to do.” “Do you have a gun?” “Yes [NAME REDACTED] does.” “Have you fired at shot at this person?” “No.” As usual in these situations, I pause to figure out my next move. Mom continues: “So, have I told you about my neighbor who cut my tree down to a stump against my will?” “Do you think this door ringer has something to do with this tree stump business?” “Oh no. Say – we were watching curling the other night. Have you been watching it?” (Note: several years ago some Canadians moved into a college town near me and set up a curling league. Naturally, me and our group of fat beer drinkers signed up and had a curling team for a couple of years.). (The Curling Ironmen!) (True story – the first year we were in it so was my brother. One night, in front of Mrs Film Miasma’s family who drove three miles into town from a place called Ponca City to see what this curling thing was all about, my brother and I were sweeping and he farted and I started laughing and fell down on the ice right in front of all of them and broke my wrist.) (make a movie about that Netflix!!)
Are some of The Curling Ironmen inside your house??
Now I HAVE to see if I can find some of those pictures.
Here we go:
That’s Mister Pubes and I admiring our work with the brush on one of our Ends. Aren’t we stately? I’ll see if I can come up with another one here, suitable for print before the end of this thing….
What about the movie? It was OK I guess. From the Stranger Things team comes a Netflix slasher that’s gonna get right to the point of today’s youth and online society. Someone in Nebraska is going to kill you, wearing a 3-D printing of your face and then place scandalous photos of you all over to ‘tell the town your secrets’. Solid. First up is the white jock dude who beat up someone else in hazing for the football team. BAM! You’re dead fucker and here’s all of the somehow taken photos of all of your misdeeds. Go burn in hell. Next up – the white, Christian chick who secretly did a podcast about – uhhhhhh I kind of forgot – a podcast about having an all white congregation in her church? Dead. BAM. Throw her in the fucking garbage.
While these deaths are being committed, our diverse cast tries to figure out what’s what, almost Scooby Doo style. They go to a giant party out in the corn and smoke weed out of a bunch of old Nazi shit. Meanwhile, the Mexican dude who does drugs in front of everybody but secretly (?) gets killed. This misfit white dude who is making it with the hot black lead of this film is he to blame? YES! But is that her secret?? FUCK! Sounds just like my high school except without the dead bodies. HMMM – train of thought break… have you ever known anyone that was murdered? You don’t have to answer that of course but – I don’t think I have. I’ve been to a lot of funerals around here but they’ve mostly been due to old age or alcohol / drug problems. Is anyone into murderer crime things – as in – do you remember a guy named Sean Sellers? Those murders he did were in and around the neighborhood I grew up in. I didn’t know him or anything and we had moved across town a couple years before that but… eek….
Back to the movie again – right – oh – I liked it ok but it sure is unmemorable and uninteresting to write about. I’m surprised it takes place in Nebraska – have you ever been to Nebraska? I have a few times. Nothing against the Cornhusker Nation but – not so exciting, really. I’ve been to the college town and some places my dad and I stopped when I was kid on a car trip to Utah but all I really remember is this:
To get to Nebraska from where I live (by car) you have to drive through Kansas. Do you, Dear Beloved, know what’s in Kansas? This:
I’ve been to football games in Kansas more times than Nebraska and getting to them, after my state (which is boring enough) is a five or six hour drive through nothing. A bunch of dreary (well, maybe sunny) nothingness as you ramble to where you’re going which is probably not in Kansas anyway.
Kind of like this post! Or even my whole blog! Dreary nothingness with no point or anything to help pass the time. I mean, there’s worse things than me to keep hanging around but I get it. Well, I guess we can end on this, Dear One:
That’s me – look at that form! My old Sauconys! God damn those were comfortable. My broom! My slider! My sideburns! WOOOOOOO!
THIS MOVIE FILED UNDER: AT LEAST THEY TRIED