9 more movies in '09 you're too lazy to watch.

If you haven't read part one, go here, dummy. Despite there being some good, big budget shit at the box office this year (Star Trek), a lot of amazing shit is getting snubbed, because America is lazy. Even great, big budget movies like Watchmen are getting the cold shoulder. Why? Because you'd rather see G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra or some shit. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for popcorn flicks. But you have to have a little variety. I don't understand why girls don't understand that. Anyway, I forgot half of these listed when I made the last list, so I figured I'd make another.

Addendum: In part one, when mentioning all of the remakes and sequels this year, I left out The Last House on the Left, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, The Pink Panther 2, Ace Ventura Jr. Pet Detective, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, just for reference. Hollywood's inspiration has officially run as dry as Martha Stewart's snatch. I'm not against remakes or sequels (some made my list), but it's getting ridiculous. So, get off your ass and rent some good movies for a change. Stop supporting shit like Madea Goes to Jail, G-Force, and The Ugly Truth. Once again, best to not-so-best:

1. District 9


2. Eden Log


3. Hush


4. Adventureland


5. S. Darko


6. Still Waiting...


7. Donkey Punch


8. The Unborn


9. Laid to Rest

I am a fucked-up-chick magnet.

I wonder what it is that makes me attractive or seemingly interesting to fucked-up chicks with mental issues, fucked-up tattoos by user ex-boyfriends, and fucking batshit insane families with just as many problems. I would like to think that maybe their families are unstable and unbalanced because of their fucked-up daughters, but I have a feeling that it's practically genetic and goes all the way back through the lineage. Seriously, why does every girl that finds me attractive seem to have a broken fucking home? Or demented, society-rejected best friends? Or two or three jealous, psycho ex-boyfriends? Or, hell, girlfriends for that matter?

I went to the gas station late last night, the same one I always go to. More for convenience's sake than anything else. There's a decent looking girl that works there, but definitely nothing special. Somewhat white trash, too, which is a love/hate thing for me, much in the same sense as Fricker's. But I had no idea. She occasionally flirts, and anyone who knows me knows that I show so much interest when people try striking up conversations. So, with that in mind, we all know how white trash love it when you ignore them.

But it never fails that she always wants to talk. The other week I overheard her bitching to the other clerk about her boyfriend dumping her. So I tried to avoid her line, but the guy closed his on my way up there. Shit. I got up to the counter and she just stared, with a couple of tears running down her cheek. Aww, your boyfriend left your clingy, whiny ass behind? How sad. Stop crying, take my fucking money, and let me take my half-gallon of Monster and get the fuck out of here already. Do you and me a favor, stop sobbing hysterically, buy a hatchet, and go kill your new ex.

Anyway, last night I went in, got a salad and a Sobe Lifewater, which is basically sugar and water. I get up to the counter and she says, "Hey, babe. You know you can get another packet of salad dressing for free?" "Oh, yay," with all of the enthusiam I could muster. Then I made my first mistake, when I asked how she was. "Not good..." Fuck, now I have to ask why. "My house got broken into last night, while I was asleep." Instead of asking if she was alright, I said, "Did they take anything?" "$150 out of my purse." "Wow, crazy. You should get a gun," I said somewhat jokingly. "I would if I could, but I'm not allowed to." Oh, fuck, I knew it. What kind of fucked-up chick am I talking to and didn't realize? "I got a felony that comes off in 2011. Still on house arrest, but I get a work release."

Why does this always happen to me? Apparently I'm a fucked-up-chick magnet. Just something else I'm good at, I suppose.

When I got off work today, I had a plan. I bought a 12-pack of Corona with every intention of drinking them all tonight. That's when it hit me. I know what they see in me: their drunken step-dads right before they beat them. They just can't get enough.

9 movies in '09 you're too lazy to watch.

With a metric fuckton of movies out this year, like The Hangover, Star Trek, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, Terminator Salvation, Halloween 2, Friday the 13th, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, My Bloody Valentine 3-D, Land of the Lost, The Taking of Pelham 123, Final Destination 4, Night at the Museum 2: Battle of the Smithsonian, The Twilight Saga: New Moon, and Fast & Furious, there's a lot of badass films getting missed by you lazy bastards. Your loss. Funny thing about that, too: only one of those movies (The Hangover) isn't a remake or a sequel. That's completely fucking sad. Here's nine movies so far this year that you've obviously missed, most being far better than some of the shit that's breaking records at the box office. So get off your lazy ass and watch some movies that Hollywood didn't have the pleasure of splooging their saturated, tainted, uncreative juices all over. Best to not-so-best:

1. Martyrs


2. Surveillance


3. Outlander


4. Dead Snow


5. All the Boys Love Mandy Lane


6. Deadgirl


7. The Uninvited


8. Night Train


9. The Girlfriend Experience

Some of these movies were made before 2009, but didn't officially get released until this year. Also keep in mind that trailers sometimes suck. For instance, Mandy Lane is not the typical slasher film that it looks like, and the ending has bigger balls than most movies do, post-Columbine that is. Oh, and yes, I know The Uninvited is an American remake of the Korean film Janghwa, Hongryeon. This is me not giving a fuck. Why? Because the original, aside from the superior acting, was fucking terrible. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's the worst Korean movie I've seen, which is around twenty or so now. So strike that up with Zach Snyder's Dawn of the Dead and Rob Zombie's Halloween as one of the only good remakes. Oh, and once I see the indie movie called Moon, I'm sure it'll be right there on top. But it didn't get a wide release, mainly because of shallow-minded fucks like you who'd rather see shit like Paul Blart: Mall Cop, Twilight, and Dance Flick.

How to make a Ryan Coddington.

I saw what appeared to be a homeless man on my steps today when I got home from lunch. There was a moped sitting in front of him. He was wearing a ratty-ass t-shirt and two completely different shoes, and drinking what looked like piss from a Gatorade bottle. "Fuck," I thought. "This bastard wants money." So I said, "What's up, man?" And he replied, "Wrecked my moped. Had to sit down." I stopped for a second, then said, "That's cool, man," and then went inside and ate a couple of tasty burritos and went back to work. True story.

Mayhem ensues, continues...

Well, videos from Mayhem Fest in Noblesville Saturday night are being posted. About damn time. Here's some highlights from the awesome shit I saw.

I told you there were four walls of death. One being a "closet of death" even.

Unfortunately, the dick apparently didn't record any of Trivium, so here's a shitty vid in San Bernardino, CA from a pussy too afraid to truly enjoy the fucking metal. His pussy must have been hurting.

5 things I learned at Mayhem Fest last night.

I went to Mayhem Festival yesterday, for $10. Top that shit. It's rare that concerts are this heavy, or this evil. How heavy and how evil was it? Slayer, Marilyn Manson, Killswitch Engage, Cannibal Corpse, Trivium, Bullet for My Valentine, Job for a Cowboy, God Forbid, Behemoth, All That Remains, The Black Dahlia Murder, White Chapel, and Mushroomhead left Indy with a new asshole. I learned a few things there, too:

1. All That Remains and God Forbid were better than I expected.

2. Killswitch has vastly improved. And Adam Dutkiewicz is the coolest motherfucker around. "Hey, Indiana...fucking suck on this." They even got people to do illegal walls of death. I counted four. Yeah.

3. Manson is overrated live. Definitely not headlining material.

4. After seeing Trivium for the fourth time, more and more I see that they're still incredibly underrated and I'd be hard pressed to name a band with more talent.

And the best thing I learned last night:

5. 25,000 people were not ready for real heavy fucking metal. Slayer came on, men cowered, women wept, children pissed themselves, and Tom Araya and Kerry King gave nightmares to everyone. Thrash is a dying breed, but Slayer's here to fucking stay. This isn't Bullet for My Valentine, kids. This is fucking Slayer. Those two fingers you raise in the air, they're called "devil horns" for a reason. And that reason doesn't apply to Hinder or Breaking Benjamin or Buckcherry. Metalhead posers stood around confused and scared when they got their shit ruined by real metal last night. Aside from watching Trivium right in front, this was the only time "Mayhem" truly felt like mayhem. Okay, I take that back. Behemoth was fucking brutal, too. Concerts aren't this hardcore anymore, because people are fucking pussies and just go home crying.

Oh, and I also learned that 30 or 40 heavy metal fans going to Denny's after seeing Slayer and Marilyn Manson, and getting fucking terrible service (or none at all), does not turn out very pretty. Stupid bitch...

The machinist complete.

Here I've compiled all of the quotes I've remembered or written down of Slu, the die and tool maker I work with. I've posted three parts before, with new ones each time, but unfortunately the guy only comes in about once every two weeks, for a couple of hours, and I no longer get to hear much cool shit from this man anymore. So, since these lists are getting shorter each time, I've put together every single one I have, with a few new ones from today at the very bottom. Think of it as Slu's greatest hits. The old man is everything I want to be: hardened, bitter, intelligent, and he says whatever the hell he wants to whoever. He's foul-mouthed, hard-working, and as polite as he can be, I often wonder how many people he's killed and dumped into a lake at night. I have no heroes. But if I did, it'd be Slu. The text in red is me speaking to him. The rest is his legend:


Well, I'm heading to the house. If my dinner's not ready, I'm gonna raise hell. If it is ready, I'm not gonna eat.

I have a lot of tools at my workbench, but I've never seen one quite like you.

He's the kind of guy that'd jerk his dog off to feed his cat.

I call my wife Troll. She loves it. (Even has her name in his cell as 'Troll')

I hope your sons didn't get their brains from you. You're a fucking idiot.

You're getting married? Dumbass. I didn't even know people still did that. I guess kids today are just as stupid as they've always been.

I used to drink a 40 in the parking lot everyday on my lunch break. So one day a guy I work with, who was also a preacher, came up to me and said I shouldn't do that. That if I came to his church on Sunday, he could save me. So I asked him if he could save anyone. "Yes, anyone." Can you save a murderer? "Yes." Can you save a rapist? "Yes." Can you save a whore? "Yes, I can save a whore." Then can you save me a whore Friday night? That dickhead didn't talk to me on lunch anymore.

Wherever you find four Baptists, you'll find a fifth.

I'm going home to a hot woman and a cold beer. And it better not be the other way around.

She quit? I don't blame her. Fuck this place. I'd quit, too, if I didn't hate everything else even more.

Three illegitimate kids. I don't understand it. You kids can't just fuck for fun anymore?

Look at her dressed all in white, as if she was still a virgin. Probably hasn't been a virgin since the sixth grade.

When God made woman, He sure wasted one of man's damn ribs.

'M-F-er'? Is that like 'motherfucker'?

What a dick. / He's a dick. / Ain't he a dickhead? / You ever met a dick like that?

Cheap bastard. / Cheap prick. / That son of a bitch is cheap. / Here's a nickel. I know how cheap you are, prick.

Well, I'm heading to the house. Got me some ham salad I made last night for sandwiches. With the old lady sick, I've had to fend for myself. It's kinda nice though, having something different than a hot tongue and a cold shoulder.

I talked to your old buddy yesterday. I guess he got back with his old lady. And I guess he dropped a package off for delivery.
"Really? I heard she couldn't get pregnant."
Maybe it wasn't actually him. Looks like she found someone to stud her out. I'd get the bitch tested.

It's not pretty, but we ain't entering no fucking beauty pageant. Not that any of them here even know what that is anyway.

Don't marry for money, but hang around rich women ‘til you fall in love.

Driving that nice a'car to work at his age is damn ridiculous. It's just like pissing in the ocean.

Here, Don. I made an extra plate for you to take home. I know you're cheap and can't afford to dip into that thick wallet to buy yourself dinner.

Don't thank me. I couldn't give a shit today, or tomorrow.

The only time I ever paid for sex was back in my early 30's, I think. I was in D.C. for work, with my friend, and he said, "While we're in Washington, let's get a couple whores." So he got his, I got mine, and back at my hotel room she was sucking me off, and halfway though she looked up at me and said she'd have sex with me too if I wanted. I looked down at her and said, "I'm not paying you for sex. I'm paying you to suck my dick." And I pushed her head back down.

That ain't skill. That's shithouse luck.

Look at that shirt. Boy, you're sharper than a needle-dick hound.

Back when I was a teenager, and I had just got my license, I asked my dad if I could borrow his car. You see, I had a date that night with this broad that got around a bit. I don't know what you kids call 'em these days, but...
"I guess we call them hoodrats."
What? Whatever. Anyway, this was back when segregation was still around, so in the movie theater they had a balcony where the blacks sat. Well, I didn't really want anyone seeing me with her, so we sat up there. While the movie was playing, I was fingering that pussy. Not more than a couple minutes into it, the most vile, awful smell came up. I'm telling you, kid, fucking rank. Well, it was so bad that all the people around us on the balcony cleared out. I could hear them choking on the way out. After the movie was over, I didn't know what I was gonna do. I mean, that smell almost gagged me, but I was planning on fucking something that night.
"God, let me guess..."
I took her to the park, wrapped it twice, and fucked the hell outta her. I took her home, and she asked me if I was gonna call her tomorrow. I said, "Fuck no," and tore outta there. Halfway home I pulled the car over and puked. Twice. The next morning my old mad came pounding on my door and asked me, "Why the fuck does my car smell like someone fucking died?" I told him that was my date. He never let me drive that car again.

You were broadcasting when you should have been tuning in.

That motherfucker just insulted me!
"What do you mean?"
He said, "Well, I'll let you get back to work and get out of your hair." Do you see any fucking hair on my head? That motherfucker...

Those two butt heads like billy goats.
"Yeah, they don't seem to get along too well."
Take you and me for instance. Now, I may not like you, but we both work for this company. So when we're here, I pretend to like you.
"Thanks, Slu."

He's like a bear cub wearing boxing gloves and playing with his peter.

How's the world treatin' ya?
"Fine. How 'bout you?"
It's not the world. It's the people, kid. It's the people.

Your mouth was in gear and your brain was in idle.

Did I ever tell you about the old, ugly woman I saw at the eye doctor?
"No, I don't think so."
Well, one time when I was at the eye doctor, I saw the ugliest bitch I've ever seen. I'm talking so ugly that a blind man wouldn't marry the bitch. Well, a couple of months go by and I'm taking this tour through a farm, and then I see her walking with a group of people. So I went up to her and I asked, "Were you at the eye doctor about two months ago?"
And she said, "Yes, how did you know that?"
I said, "Well, ma'am, I trained with the CIA for over eleven years, and I always remember faces."
She said, "That's amazing. You have a wonderful memory."
The truth is...no one could forget such an ugly fucking goat face.

I took that blade in there to ol' Don and he asked me, "How much do I owe you?" I thought about saying, "five bucks." He'da swallowed his Adam's apple.

See that guy there? Him and his wife own a store, and on the front window they got a sign that says "Jesus saves" or some shit like that. And he's down here at this bar getting drunk every fucking night.

"You want me to go ahead and load it up for you?"
Nah, I already got enough on my plate as it is. On my way home. Just called the wife twenty minutes ago. Told her to get on the ball and get that soup hot.

One year for Christmas I bought my old lady a gravesite. The next year for her birthday I bought her a tombstone. But I'll tell you one thing, she ain't getting anything else 'cause she hasn't even used those yet.

You need money for a haircut, boy? Or you joining a rock band? Because you really only have those two options at this point.
"Yeah, I'll be sure to work on one of those, Slu."

Saw your friend, James, the other day...
"Why do you always call him my friend?"
He asked me if I heard that he was gonna be a father. Know what I told him? I said, "Well, James, I heard your wife was pregnant, but I didn't hear you were gonna be a father."
"Haha. I still say he needs to get that bitch tested."

"You need a haircut, Ryan. You're starting to look like a woman."
Don, you need to lose sixty pounds. You're starting to look like a beached whale.
"Wow. Thanks, Slu."

10 reasons to just shut the fuck up.

Fucking. Seriously. I am so damn sick of hearing people bitch. Whether it's about boyfriends, girlfriends, shitty friends, the government, the economy, foreign policy, the war, your job, your boss, your bills, taxes, speeding tickets, parking tickets, seatbelt tickets, poverty, the rich, school, the neighbors, the neighbors' dog that shits in your yard and barks at night, chores, gas prices, inflation, ignorance, intelligence, abortion, welfare, unemployment, your husband's goat-play fetish, the ruffie you were slipped last week which subsequent in DP and gang-rape by your male co-workers, or the fact that you're homeless after losing your job and your wife on the same day which just so happened to be your birthday and now you expect the whole world to change just to suit your selfish, little, hopeless aspirations that no longer matter to anyone but your lonesome, pitiful self. Have I left anything out? Of course I have. Here's ten more reasons you need to just shut the fuck up, and yes, I see the irony in all of this. Which brings me to number one.

1. Pointing out the obvious to someone who is intentionally saying the shit that they're saying to make an ironic point. Did that go over your head? Big fucking surprise. That could only mean one thing: number two.

2. Either you sell shoes at Footlocker, stock shelves at Kroger, seat obese white trash at Applebee's, or run the cash register at Dillard's. Now, while all of these are prime examples of being very important, completely essential cogs in the big machine, none of it qualifies you to open your mouth about anything of any relevance to...well, fucking anything. You are not capable of calculating simple math equations without the use of a solar-powered, $2 piece of shit machinery from Big Lots. So what the fuck makes you think you understand anything at all about the economy, inflation, or even the total of your five pounder happy meal from McDonald's, you fat, stupid fuck? McDonald's, point three.

3. Why don't the seventeen-year-olds working the drive-thru say "thank you" or "have a nice day" anymore? What happened to service? What happened to respect for customers? Why don't you cry yourself to sleep, eternal sleep, after taking a bottle of downers and slitting your wrists vertically? Those selfish, apathetic kids serving your fat-fucking-ass three double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a gallon of Diet Coke don't give a fuck because minimum wage doesn't pay them to give a fuck, because their boss doesn't give a fuck, because you don't give a fuck, and because capitalist America doesn't give a fuck. So stop pretending to give a fuck, because at the end of the day, you didn't pay $5 so someone would tell you "thank you." You paid just over the cost of one gallon of gas for a whole meal, which your greasy, sausage fingers are shoveling into your big, happy mouth. Right? Number four.

4. Obesity. Stop bitching about the heat. You're fat. It's your fault. The summer is hot. The winter is not. Get used to it or move. Five.

5. Stop whining and moaning and crying and shouting about shit you did wrong. This one is much more literal and lax. Sometimes it may appear more clear, like if you wake up in a puddle of vomit and piss after a hard night of drinking, that's your fault. No issue there. No one else to blame. Not even the ruffie-slipping male co-workers. But I'm even talking about parents who bitch about their kids. You raised them. It's your fault. I don't care if they killed grandma for the inheritance. You should have beat them more. Fuck you and your spoiled, bastard kids. Fuck you Six ways to Sunday.

6. Rednecks and white trash bitch more than anyone else in America. You're poor. I know already. Guess what, motherfuckers? No one cares. Stop fucking for tax breaks, get off of welfare, and get a motherfucking job. White trash need rounded up and put into cages. Kind of like a zoo, but you wouldn't ever pay admission, and you wouldn't ever go in. And employees wouldn't feed them. And by "white trash," I mean everyone. For instance, people who pay by check and don't have it filled out by the time they reach the register, people who buy lottery tickets and scratch them off at the counter while there's a fucking line behind them, people who spend their last five on cigarettes instead of food, people who bitch about gas prices to gas station attendants, people who spend all of their money on weed and can't figure out why they can't afford their child support, people who think KFC is the shit, people who think Fazoli's is "real Italian," and people who wear fucking crocs, just to name a few. Seven.

7. Socialism. You don't understand it. You never will. Publicized health care? Don't even try to wrap your right-winged, Rush Limbaugh-brainwashed, Bill O'Reilly-loving mind around it. You're still stuck in the 1950's, blacklisting all of the pinko commies trying to do whatever it is that evil commies do, and you're so scared of "red" (ironic) working men. You wouldn't want free health care for your children? For your grandchildren? Fuck you and your selfish, small fucking brain. Unions? The United States Postal Service? American public education? Yeah, we're definitely not socialistic. This goes for anarchy as well. Eight.

8. You're right-wing? Fuck you. You're left-wing? Fuck you. You're green party? Fuck you. Fuck every last one of you ignorant, puppet tools. Please shut the fuck up. And nine.

9. Violence and sex. What the fuck is the deal? We fuck to survive. I'm not sure if anyone's picked up on that yet. I know, it's all a bit complicated, but I assure you, it's true. One man and one woman fuck, have a child, and the the cycle repeats. I think they even teach this complicated subject in junior high health class, basically just to make sure that fucking morons like us grasp the idea of repopulating. Adam and Eve weren't ashamed of being naked. They just grew older and became conservative republicans. Seeing a naked body on a movie screen is not going to scar you for life. Not knowing shit about sex until you're eighteen will. Stop fucking up your children. And violence? Jesus fucking Christ. This nation was founded on bloodshed. Read up on some history, grow some fucking balls, and shut the fuck up. Finally ten.

10. You're middle class. Not lower class. Stop bitching and just shut the fuck up. Remember the Great Depression? No, you don't. Shut the fuck up.

There you go. Ten reasons laced in thick fucking irony. I hope I singled out everyone in some way. So shut the fuck up already. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

*Oh, and a side note to the four thick-headed fucks I saw eating at Wings and Rings tonight: if you plan to order, take the menus when the waitress offers, and don't make her read through the menu herself to your inbred, white trash, shit-eating faces five seconds after she asks. You don't need to eat. You need to kill yourselves.

The machinist, part 3.

Here's the third part in the continuing adventures of me and the machinist. You can find the first part here and the second part here. By the time I'm done with these, I might just have to write a book about the man. The legend will never measure up to the man though. It's too bad none of you get to experience the pleasure of working with this great, spiteful bastard.


You were broadcasting when you should have been tuning in.

That motherfucker just insulted me!
"What do you mean?"
He said, "Well, I'll let you get back to work and get out of your hair." Do you see any fucking hair on my head? That motherfucker...

"Yeah, they don't seem to get along too well."
Take you and me for instance. Now, I may not like you, but we both work for this company. So when we're here, I pretend to like you.
"Thanks."

He's like a bear cub wearing boxing gloves and playing with his peter.

How's the world treatin' ya?
"Fine. How about you?"
It's not the world. It's the people, kid. It's the people.

Your mouth was in gear and your brain was in idle.

Did I ever tell you about the old, ugly woman I saw at the eye doctor?
"No, I don't think so."
Well, one time when I was at the eye doctor, I saw the ugliest bitch I've ever seen. I'm talking so ugly that a blind man wouldn't marry the bitch. Well, a couple of months go by and I'm taking this tour through a farm, and then I see her walking with a group of people. So I went up to her and I asked, "Were you at the eye doctor about two months ago?"
And she said, "Yes, how did you know that?"
I said, "Well, ma'am, I trained with the CIA for over eleven years, and I always remember faces."
She said, "That's amazing. You have a wonderful memory."
The truth is...no one could forget such an ugly fucking goat face.


Part four is inevitable. To be continued, I'm sure.

Not a single shred of faith left in man.

"The federal government has spent nearly half a million dollars to fund a study to find out why some men would prefer not to wear condoms during sex. The National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, a branch of the National Institutes of Health, has awarded a $423,500 grant to researchers at The Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender and Reproduction."

"The Bloomington, Indiana, based research team will use the funding to study 'barriers to correct condom use,' according to a release from the institute. 'This project aims to advance our understanding of, among other factors, the role of cognitive and affective processes and condom application skills in explaining problems with condom use in young, heterosexual adult men,' reads an excerpt of the study, which will be funded through May 2011."

Darwin was a dumbass. We're still stupid, fucking monkeys that aren't fit for survival.

English major.

Dark Eyes, cigars, and talking about everything from utopia to NASA to rap. That's what it's all about. And in other news, I'm going to get an English Major and become a "poetry-repairman."

Motherfucker.

8 little indie flicks.

No, reviews here. Just a list of eight indie films I've watched recently. Some are a few years old. Just trying to catch up on shit I haven't seen. The list has no real order, except the first one would have to be the best of all of them. Check some of these out:

1. Wristcutters: A Love Story (2006)


2. The Chumscrubber (2005)


3. La science des rêves / The Science of Sleep (2006)


4. The Go-Getter (2007)


5. The United States of Leland (2003)


6. The Girlfriend Experience (2009)


7. S. Darko (2009)


8. Dark Corners (2006)

Wave Goodbye: The end of NIN.

On the Wave Goodbye (or NIN/JA) Tour, the night started with us walking in and seeing some guy about my age, in glasses and holding a Bible, "preaching" to everyone going in. The only thing I clearly remember him saying was, "Jesus Christ was the first person to ever say the word 'hellfire.'" I'm not really sure what the context was, but my first thought was, "That's not something to be proud of." Then I thought maybe the kid just needs to see a good rock show and fuck some drunk chick in the crowd, and then maybe he wouldn't be wound so tight.

I think there might have actually been more people at Trent Reznor's farewell tour last night than Ozzfest, Mayday, X-Fest, or Family Values. If it wasn't sold out, it was damn near close to it. Well, the lines were so damn long that Chris, Kevin, Lisa, and I missed the whole Street Sweeper Social Club set, finding a spot only about five minutes before Nine Inch Nails came on. It sucks even more too, because when I got home, I found a video on YouTube of the crowd singing Happy Birthday to Tom Morello, which apparently happened while we were waiting in line. Fuck.

Anyway, I've seen Nine Inch Nails once before, back on the With Teeth Tour in May 2005, exactly four years ago now. I guess the Noblesville show, the second to last show on the American tour, inspired something of a bit of envy among the rest of the NIN fans since the setlist had a few gems not played anywhere on the rest of the tour. I'm not sure why that was, but maybe it has something to with the Noblesville venue being one of the largest on everyone's tours, twenty-five thousand making a full house. In case you're curious, here's the setlist from last night, not including the instrumental Ghosts tracks. Home was the perfect song to open with, with an extended guitar beginning:

Home
1,000,000
Discipline
March of the Pigs
Piggy (Nothing Can Stop Me Now)
Metal
Meet Your Master
Head Down
I Do Not Want This
Gave Up
The Fragile
The Downward Spiral
Wish
Survivalism
Mr Self Destruct
Physical (You're So)
The Good Soldier
The Hand That Feeds
Head Like a Hole
Hurt

Almost all of this was during the super-cell thunderstorms that tore through Indy. I read that one newcaster even stated that: "Trent Reznor just scared away a tornado." I didn't even have to go stormchasing last night. It came right to us. We could see the dark clouds rolling in during Gave Up, and started sprinkling a little during The Fragile, and right as The Downward Spiral started, it became a downpour, which was as I was attempting to film the song with my phone. I watched it today, and it doesn't sound too bad, until about halfway through, where the sound almost completely disappears. So I think the rain fucked up my microphone. Oh well.

Then the rain slowed back down and lightning flashed across the sky in all four directions during Wish, Survivalism, and Mr Self Destruct. It was nothing short of amazing, only making the show that much better. I guess the preacher-boy was wrong, because it looked like even God enjoyed last night's show. I even enjoyed watching the hippie chick in front of us dance to every song the exact same way: just like Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

The last time I saw NIN was just after With Teeth, so I never got to see any of Year Zero live. Getting to hear Meet Your Master and The Good Soldier live were definitely the highlights, with Hurt definitely among them. I just can't stop reliving how completely badass the show was last night. The more I think about it, the more I realize this was probably the best show I've been to, and I've been to a lot. I'm actually glad he didn't play Closer too, being a crowd favorite, and the fact that I've heard it so many damn times now. It probably would have taken the spot of one of the songs that never gets played, like The Good Soldier, which he only played last night on the whole tour, and was my favorite by far.

"I could say this is our last tour, but it will make you sad. So I won't say it."

I could tell the show was coming to an end with Head Like a Hole and then the last thing Reznor said was: "Every once in a while you have a night where you feel like everything is in the right place, time and place, and this is fucking it. Thank you so much," right before he ended the show with Hurt. It was just perfect.

I didn't really get into Jane's Addiction, other than Dave Navarro shredding the guitar. It was all just a little too 1980's David Bowie for me. I have to say though, the best part was in between two songs when Perry Farrell, practically in drag and holding a bottle of wine, said, "Hey, Indiana, and all you farmers. I want to come live on the farms with you. I know how some of you farm people like to get freaky." Everyone started cheering and I looked over at Kevin, Chris, and Lisa. The sky at this time was a weird black, orange, and purple like a low budget horror film about a midwest cult, and I said, "I think it's time to get the fuck outta here." We left not too long after.

Definitely the best money I've spent in a very long time. Reznor is a fucking god. The only real regret I have is having only seen Reznor twice now before he called it quits. Fuck, that's depressing.

While searching for good pics and vids from last night's show, I actually came across a working torrent of the entire show here: NIN Noblesville torrent. It sounds almost perfect, but of course, it just doesn't compare to actually being there. Also, if you're bored, check out the Nine Inch Nails Film Festival, where people send in videos using the instrumental tracks from his last release, Ghosts: NIN Film Fest.

Update: I kept seeing and hearing something about VIP donations, but had no clue what it was about. Well, here you go: NIN Helps Man In Need Of Heart Transplant. It just makes me wish I had decked that motherfucker holding the Bible.

The machinist, part 2.

I haven't seen much of the old man these days, since they basically laid him off. He only comes in about once every two weeks now. It's sad really, considering how much this man has taught me in the last year and a half. I feel like they're making budget cuts to my education instead of cuts to their overhead. In all fairness though, he is getting a bit too old to be doing all the amazing shit he does, and even a half-god needs rest from time to time. But since I last posted quotes in February, I've built up another decent list, with a couple of stories, the last seeming to be everyone's favorite. I still wish I could remember more, or remember to write down more, because I'm letting so much great wisdom fall through the cracks. Let's hope this isn't the last list I get to make.


Well, I'm heading to the house. Got me some ham salad I made last night for sandwiches. With the old lady sick, I've had to fend for myself. It's kinda nice though, having something different than a hot tongue and cold shoulder.

I talked to your old buddy yesterday. I guess he got back with his old lady. And I guess he dropped a package off for delivery.
Really? I heard she couldn't get pregnant.
Maybe it wasn't actually him. Looks like she found someone to stud her out. I'd get the bitch tested.

It's not pretty, but we ain't entering no fucking beauty pageant. Not that any of them here even know what that is anyway.

Don't marry for money, but hang around rich women ‘til you fall in love.

Driving that nice a'car to work at his age is damn ridiculous. It's just like pissing in the ocean. He's not getting any.

Here. I made an extra plate for you to take home. I know you're cheap and can't afford to dip into that thick wallet to buy yourself dinner.

Don't thank me. I couldn't give a shit today, or tomorrow.

The only time I ever paid for sex was back in my early 30's, I think. I was in D.C. for work, with my friend, and he said, "While we're in Washington, let's get a couple whores." So he got his, I got mine, and back at my hotel room she was sucking me off, and halfway though she looked up at me and said she'd have sex with me too if I wanted. I looked down at her and said, "I'm not paying you for sex. I'm paying you to suck my dick." And I pushed her head back down.

That ain't skill. That's shithouse luck.

Look at that shirt. Boy, you're sharper than a needle-dick hound.

Back when I was a teenager, and I had just got my license, I asked my dad if I could borrow his car. You see, I had a date that night with this broad that got around a bit. I don't know what you kids call 'em these days, but...
I guess we call them hoodrats.
What? Whatever. Anyway, this was back when segregation was still around, so in the movie theater they had a balcony where the blacks sat. Well, I didn't really want anyone seeing me with her, so we sat up there. While the movie was playing, I was fingering that pussy. Not more than a couple minute into it, the most vile, awful smell came up. I'm telling you, kid, fucking rank. Well, it was so bad that all the people around us on the balcony cleared out. I could hear them choking on the way out. After the movie was over, I didn't know what I was gonna do. I mean, that smell almost gagged me, but I was planning on fucking something that night.
God, let me guess...
I took her to the park, wrapped it twice, and fucked the hell outta her. I took her home, and she asked me if I was gonna call her tomorrow. I said, "Fuck no," and tore outta there. Halfway home I pulled the car over and puked. Twice. The next morning my old mad came pounding on my door and asked me, "Why the fuck does my car smell like someone fucking died?" I told him that was my date. He never let me drive that car again.

The truth is never beautiful.

I have never seen a documentary more vague or generalized, or sappy, than "The Beautiful Truth." Then again, "beauty" has always been such a hard thing to define, in a world than holds little "truth." The film is directed by Steve Kroschel, who narrates, while his son, Garrett, plays the part of interviewer and tool. The pair set off to investigate the claims of a Dr. Max Gerson, now deceased, who supposedly found a cure for cancer in 1928. The claim is bullshit, of course, but the film, its team, and the people they interview all believe otherwise.

One thing is for sure, that I am completely and utterly sick of every documentary comparing their antagonist to Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. I have seen enough stock footage of an enraged Hitler, marching Nazis, and Holocaust corpses being tossed into ditches to fill a World War II documentary in itself. Comparing the food and medical industries to the Third Reich in the first ten minutes gave me a very good idea as to what to expect for the next eighty minutes.

Roughly halfway through the documentary I decided to do a bit of research on the subject myself. I stopped the movie and came across several sites on the topic, and once I felt I had read plenty from enough various sources, I had to go against every fiber in my being to finish that overindulgent piece of shit in order to adequately review it.

Gerson's therapy is described as "an alternative dietary therapy which he claimed could cure cancer and most chronic, degenerative diseases. Gerson described his approach in the book 'A Cancer Therapy: Results of 50 Cases.' However, when Gerson's claims were independently evaluated by the National Cancer Institute, it was found that Gerson's records lacked the basic information necessary to systematically evaluate his claims, and the patients who were 'cured' by his treatment were also receiving standard, effective medical treatment simultaneously. The therapy is considered scientifically unsupported and potentially hazardous, and has been blamed for the deaths of patients who substituted it for standard medical care.”

In the film, they place the blame all on major food companies and the companies that supply farmers with chemicals for their crops, but never do they blame the FDA or hold it accountable. In fact, they basically come right out and say those words, when addressing a letter from the company Monsanto, "Assuring its safety is the FDA's job." The filmmakers did not agree. The FDA responded with: "Ultimately, it is the food producer who is responsible for assuring safety." The only thing this tells me is that the FDA serves no purpose. Yet, the filmmakers continue to go after the food industry, completely ignoring the FDA's responsibilities to the public.

At one point they even claim that Monsanto wants to implement a new "terminator technology" that would prevent farmers from saving seeds, leading to no new crops, thus creating mass starvation. I am not even going to go into how fucking moronic the claims of a food company wanting to starve its customers are.

Of course, they were also not above blaming the more popular leaders of recent history for the last century of supposed food crimes, such as Donald Rumsfeld and John Ashcroft. For the individuals that did not give permission to the filmmakers to use interviews or even their photos, Garrett drew pathetic cartoons, sometimes even caricatures, so crude and demeaning that I half-expected one to have horns and hold a pitchfork by the end of the movie.

But what exactly are Gerson’s methods? "Gerson's therapy required the patient to consume raw vegan food and to drink an 8-ounce glass of fresh organic juices every waking hour. Coffee and castor oil enemas were among several types of prescribed enemas, and some patients were given hydrogen peroxide orally and rectally. Rectal ozone was also applied. Dietary supplements include vitamin C and iodine. The diet prohibited the drinking of water and consumption of berries and nuts, as well as use of aluminum vessels or utensils."

Coffee enemas. Check. Drink hydrogen peroxide. Check. Do not drink water. Check. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Could it? "Coffee enemas have contributed to the deaths of at least three people in the United States. Coffee enemas 'can cause colitis (inflammation of the bowel), fluid and electrolyte imbalances, and in some cases septicemia.'" Well, that was only three deaths. Not so bad. “Initially, patients were required to drink several glasses of raw calf liver extract daily. Following an outbreak of Campylobacter infection linked to the Gerson clinic's extract, which sickened and killed several of the clinic's patients, carrot juice was substituted.” Interestingly, none of this was ever mentioned in the film.

As the documentary progressed, and each "recorded case" of a person being cured was shown, but not proven, I began to wonder what it was that made each case a "success." I knew that there had to be something different for each kind of cancer. But apparently the coffee enema, carrot juice, and organic fruit and vegetable diet cures absolutely everything, from diabetes, to breast cancer, to fibromyalgia. The Gerson Therapy even cures muscular dystrophy. It would seem that by eating only organic foods and shooting a latte up your ass every so often, you can live forever.

Not once does the documentary ever try to explain how this diet cures cancer. Nor does it ever delve any deeper than surface level of the supposed cases where patients are cured. Each interview comes off as shallow as a diet pill commercial, simply claiming “it works, it really works.” What the documentary does attempt to do is alienate and demoralize people who eat fast food, meat, corn, wheat, sugar, beans, nuts, and berries, as well as people that go to hospitals, dentist offices, and supermarkets, and not to forget doctors, dentists, and anyone who works at a non-organic food company. We all know the dangers of genetically-altered foods and monosodium glutamate, the food additive amino acid that shuts off the part of your brain that tells you when to stop eating. But what the documentary claims is that the food we normally eat everyday gives us cancer and the Gerson diet cures cancer.

I found it to be a nice touch when, while on the road, Garrett is shown in the passenger seat eating fast food. The voice over of the narrator says he wanted to tell him not to, but that it was "his own choice." Well, he probably could have prevented that by not pulling into a McDonald's drive-thru when they were hungry. It was also a nice touch, for the sake of proving his point, to have him eat two Big Macs, two large fries, and a sundae, then have him supposedly throw-up on the plane ride three hours later. It all just played into the MSG information only five minutes prior. It was perfect timing.

The real truth is not beautiful. The foods we eat may be giving us cancer. The obesity epidemic is only in America, even though MSG is found in food all over the world now. Americans are fat because they do not know when to stop: food, war, money, power, entertainment, violence, etc. We are simply overindulgent. And despite all fucking claims to the contrary, the Gerson Therapy does not cure shit. Beauty itself is simply a vain lie.

"Ignorance is preferable to error, and he is less remote from the truth who believes nothing than he who believes what is wrong." -Thomas Jefferson