Thursday, November 10, 2005

Posting the shit out of this blog

Hello whoever, I have all but forgotten all about snakes on a plane, I'm thinking of starting over. And give up again soon later. And again and again. Christmas is coming, and that means work no more, which is good cause all work and no play make The Fool a dull boy. I'll be back soon, fear not my loyal fans (me). I'm gonna do some remodeling around the previous posts. Hey maybe some modeling, too.

Over 200 people have come by. Thanks, and sorry.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Crash Course In Car Crash

Hello, Hello Everybody!

Ok, yesterday, I'm on my way to work, normal to only slightly high speed when, after taking a curve and facing a red light about 20 feet ahead, I, as usual, gently hit the brakes. My car, as unusual, gently doesn't give a fuck and keeps going.

(Remember how when your brakes fuck up because of wet or greasy pavement you must by no means keep hitting those brakes?, well that's what you do, step on the bastards, no matter what you know you must)

Now here's the three most nasty seconds of my day so far, when you have a big old car in front of you, and no matter how you turn that wheel or hit those brakes, you're heading right into it.


I wasn't going fast. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt and I didn't even move. My hood did move, backwards. And one light, and other crap. The transmission oil thing broke, and all the oil filled the land (more on that soon). The other car got pushed 20 feet ahead. Now comes the fun part.

I didn't say snakes on a plane, but it was a small plane, and you could hear the hissing.

A woman steps out of her car, 45-50, ugly, angry and nervous. She starts yelling at me from far away about how I'm a maniac and she's sick and her daughter and how she's gonna fuck me up. I'm real nervous (just an amateur car crasher, and far from a fan) and I start telling her over and over how I'm sorry and I'll take care of everything and it's my fault and crap.

I turn on the emergency lights (my car is in the middle of the street crying transmission oil at morning near to peak hour), and go to a grassy sidewalk with angry ugly woman to calm her down and figure out what the fuck to do.

Transit Authority shows up (not Chicago's, that would be weird 'cause I dont live there). Too early they did, almost as if they were hiding in the bushes. They already hate me, little irresponsibl prick speeding irresponsibly and hitting the poor lady and her 25 year old daughter. I call my best work buddies and tell them to come over. I feel a sting in my nec, another in my arm. I realize I'm standing next to thetransit guy with about 40 red ants all over me. I start talking nervously while slapping my face my neck my arms and all over my body. The guy even uses his hat to take some off my back at my request. The goddamn grassy sidewalk. This day just gets better. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!

Another car gets screwed up with the pavement exactly where I did and hits the sidewalk. A cop in a motorcycle passes by and lands on his ignorant corrupt ass after passing over my car's tears. People across the street yell and laugh at him. That at least was cool. When my friends come to my aid they too get tire failure due to fucked up pavement and hit another car. Now what the fuck? Are we being filmed? Am I punk'd? I'm not famous.

Anyway to make it short and since I can't write it as interesting as it was, friend knows corrupt transit guy, corrupt transit guy leaves me alone, ugly angry woman apologizes and leaves, we get a tow truck, I have to spend a fat load of sweet moolah on the hood the light and the other crap, everyone's happy to be alive and well without a scratch (chicks may dig scars, but I dig the hell out of not getting any), I gotta go to the transit offices now to pick up the crash info for the insurance (for angry mad woman, I dont have insurance, yay!), and I learned a valuable lesson:

Crashing my car sucks.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Lacking me, Lacking you

Just another blog? I think not. Just another blog that claims not to be just another blog? Indeed.

Well, I'm sorry I have not updated since thursday, but then again you havent been here, anyone, so its all good. I dont write and you dont read. Except in this case I write so please be my guests. This was a good weekend in which I slept a lot, I drank enough, and did little. Cool.

I have absolutely zero interest in writing today. This motherfucker of a day feels more like monday than yesterday did. Not fair. We should be past that stage. Move on week, you're stepping on balls here. Get serious.

Hey I have a cool link (not seen on another blog, any appearance of the following link on another blog is purely coincidential). Its about bunny suicides. The bunnies are not happy and they want to die, and they make an art of dying. I dont know how thoings move around here, so this could be 40 months old and gone, but I just found it and found it fun and so should you, unless you're in PETA, but then again, this little dude (sometimes dudes) is killing himself, so it's the whole right to life and death issue, but this one does all kinds of things and moves around and thinks and stuff so its not Schiavo territory, praise the lord (whichever one)

Oh yeah, the link. What's up, doc? Death motherfucker

Ok, until the next post, which will be better no doubt.

P.S.: This blog will soon be blocked in China: Fuck you Freedom Opressors! FALUN GONG RULES!!!! FALUN GONG!!! FALUN GONG YOU BASTARDS!. There. I said it. It's said.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

When I was 17, it was a very good year

This just in (well, for me, I just read it, over at Dark Horizons) :

Question: What are you working on at that moment? Jackson: I'm doing Snakes On A Plane right now (AKA Pacific Air 121) It's slithery but it's good, it's fun.

I dont know what slithery means, I'll have to look that up. Hey, what if the film sucks after all? This blog will be doomed. Not likely. It will actually make the film look better. Likely. Anyways, this aint about the film, its about, you know, all people coming together and doing their best not to read this blog.

Ok, I remember another Snakes On A Plane moment (I acknowledge my snakes on a plane situations are fram from actual snakes on a plane, but it's all I got so far, I need to feel confortable around all you random unkwown friends reading this first). My shame is your gain:

Family holiday reunion, all parts of my family live apart from one another but we always get together in the holidays to, you know, be family and give presents and stuff. So that was around the time when I taped everything i deemed cool, videos, simpsons, shows, other things not worth mentioning. Once there's about ten people at our living room, parents, uncles, cousins, news reporters (no there werent any news reporters, this was family). The cable was down, so for their viewing pleasure I popped in the vcr a simpsons mix vcr tape. All good and fun. I went out for a secret smoke. All good and quiet. Too quiet. Little did I know (or remember) at the end of the innocent simpson episodes, there was sin. Flesh. Lust. Evil little cinemax erotica taped by yours truly for yours truly adolescent viewing joy. Not suitable for one's family. No.

I get back into the house, the front door of which leads directly into the living room tv (small place). The moment I open the door, I just had one half of a second to see what everyone was watching in giggling awe. And another half a second to realize just what they were watching. Then, sound. The most deafening sound of thunderous laughter. Pointing at me like deadly fire spears. Good thing I wasnt Carrie, 'cause shit would have gone down inevitably. What happened was, soon as "the sound" started, I stepped back and shut the door. I was back out. Out of the nightmare. And went outside by myself for about an hour until things cooled, with no smokes.

Things cooled down, nothing awful. But it was, for me, then, a goddamn cobra in coach. And fish for lunch. And Batman & Robin playing during the flight. And stormy winds. And a python for variety.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

The 30 Visitor Landmark Celebration

Yes! 30 people, 20 of which is me for sure. So all 10 of you, thank you, you keep me going. You give me the strenght to continue blogging like there's no other choice. You my random unknown friends, I thank.

I dont think 4 posts in 2 days is normal or socially acceptable. But well, Snakes On A Plane has been known for pushing the boundaries every known and then since it came to existence yesterday. Wow, it feels like it was yesterday afternoon when this place came to be, when actually it was in the morning. Time sure flies when...wait, does time normally use other forms of transportation? Time sure rides a bike when one ponders stupid questions.

Second World?

Today is a day for enlightment for yours truly. I finally know why the fuck there are first world countries and third world countries but no second world countries. I always thought under developed countries (african, south american, et al) were considered su fucked up they deserved to be "a world away" from the industrialized. Now that's not how it is, though often true.

After extensive research (Wikipedia) I have discovered for humanity the origin of these terms, and, its no fun. The term was coined in the cold war (not fought exclusively in winter), where the first world refered to the western bloc and the second bloc refered to the eastern. The third world then was used to define poor little countries not directly related to the conflict. (The actual explanation as given in Wikipedia is much more accurate and better, but mine'll do, for me at least).

Well, after Roger Waters and David Hasselhoff went to Germany and the wall fell, cold war ends and stuff and no more second world, not a term used or known at least by most people. But first and third stuck, and hence, the world gap.

Now I think it should change. 'Cause first and third world country sounds mean, and it gets old, and soon the communists will catch up with that gap and start going crazy about imperialism and kyoto and what not. So here's a few other options for your reading displeasure:

(The content previously presented here has been deleted by the author due to sucking hard)

So there you go, world (applies to both first and third and misterious no longer second). Get to work. We have a lot of work to do, they're always talking abut closing the gap between the first and third, well, the name is a good start, at least its much easier, and fun, and people love a good laugh. About the love of laughs, sorry about this. I'll insert a joke later.

P.S.: The band Maroon 5 used to be called Kara's Flowers (yeah), and their first album was called The Fourth World. Now I cant confirm this, but I think they are talking about Canada. I'll keep you posted.

If I Could Sleep One More Hour

I wouldn't. But I want to so much, lately, between work and my girlfriend, I barely have time for home, and I love home, movies, tv, reading, my dog, you know, just being home, I love my house and being in it, you know, resting, but I always end up sleeping like 6 hours, which can be enough, but not on a daily basis, not for this lazy motherfucker right here anyway.

I need a plan. I need to use my time at home more wisely. It's my precious.

Ok, no Internet at home except for leaving emule running all night long downloading all the good things for me (be cool you RIAA bastards). No TV except for Nip/Tuck, Lost and the ocassional Simpsons. And cutting down on the phone calls would be great, too. But that's not entirely up to me, I'm pussywhipped, yeah, but I'll take a little whipping for a lot

I think I need a Redbull to get through today, but that crap is expensive, and this sensation of tiredness usually goes away in a couple of hours and comes back right around 2pm. My life is good, I'm just a little tired is all.

This was not an interesting read now was it? Bear with me here, I'm just getting started. I put on a counter yesterday, 'cause I love that, seeing how many people end up here, makes me happy really when you read this, by the way Ang and gamepower, thanks a lot for your comments on the first column, that was cool. Ok, I'll be back later today, I should, you know, work, after all, it is where I am.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Fasten Your Seatbelts, Please

'Cause this will be one lame blog. I dont think it's possible for me, in my humble and limited creativity, to ever do justice to the adress and title of my blog. Someone else should have it, really, but oh well, I do. And I will do my best to entertain whoever ends up here by clicking the next blog button or by some other mean I don't know of. Snakes On A Plane does not have an agenda, so far just a name to get started, its the possible name for a film starring Samuel L. Jackson (would it have been cooler just saying Sam Jackson? You be the judge) and well there's a whole situation right now where they want to change the name which rules to some generic air flight number name. I first heard about it from the goddamn best critic around, Outlaw Vern, and then by reading the only blog I've found truly interesting to read, the one kept by screenwriter Josh Friedman, where he talks about the possible application of the phrase "Snakes On A Plane" into our daily lives (by the way, great job Mr. Friedman, I mean on the blog in general and on your work, I salute you). Imagine yourself on a plane, in midair, and suddenly you realize a bunch of snakes are loose in there, you know that feeling, FUCK ME. So I had my first Snakes On A Plane moment today, where I actually said it to myself, and I wish to reproduce it here for you, never intending for this to be the general tone of the blog, but, like the great Vern, I'll just telll it this time like it is, or like it was. One more thing, I'm actually borrowing this from another blog I had forgotten all about since I started it about 2 hours ago, so here goes, re-edited by me, I give you, Indirect Self Piss Stain:

I just went to the bathroom here at work, luckily a one toilet bathroom (small company god and satan bless it and curse it respectively), took off my pants, sat, and before N°2 (taking a shit), I took care of N° 1 (not taking a shit), well, being anonymous here rules, before I knew it the piss was leaking down the toilet 'cause instead of going down it got between the toilet seat and the, well the base I guess and into my pants, yes, I peed my pants indirectly, goddamn it. So there I am, with my pants in my hands, using cheap bathroom soap, I mean the fucking white powder, doing the best to clean the piss stain in what would be my right buttock. Then, for smell purposes, I applied to the damage zone some deodorant, yes, Old Spice is the worst deodorant I've come across, but it sure does the trick camouflaging the piss smell on my pants and the shame on me. Shame on me. And here I am sitting in the office, hoping the pants will dry and the day will stop extra sucking. Just sucking will do. Hey, writing a blog is fun, sorry about it not being fun to read, but personally I think for a first entry this isnt bad, if only pretty disgusting for some. Disgusting? You're on the Internet, trust me, you're safe. I pissed my pants in the toilet, at work...Snakes on a Plane.

So there, by the way, the pants are good and dry and no smell to be smelled. Again, for those who expect more, too bad, for those who expect less, way to go. Ok, this is going to be all right.