Super-Villain Style

When I fuckin’ tell ju that I leaving, mahn, I meant that shit, mahn. I fuckin’ leave all this bullshit behind me, mahn. Fuck this blog, mahn. FUCK THIS MUTHAFUCKIN’ BLOG, MAHN. I fuckin’ kill this shit, mahn, on fuckin’ National No Homo Day, mahn. I fuckin’ put a hole in this beyotch, mahn. YOU DIE TOMORROW, MUTHAFUCKA! I FUCKIN’ KILL JU’, MAHN!

So, it don’t matter what ju’ say, mahn. I don’t give a fuck no moe, mahn. I fuckin’ put a bullet in this shit, mahn. I put mah blood, mah fuckin’ sweat, mah fuckin tears, in this shit, mahn. And what do I git in return, mahn. Tell me what the FUCK did I git in return, mahn. NOTHING! I GIT MUTHAFUCKIN’ NO-THING, MAHN. NO AZZ! NO FUCKIN’ PUSSY! NO NO-THING, MAHN! I can’t even git my fuckin’ sister to let me git none, mahn. MY FUCKIN’ SISTER! By the way, all ju who say I wanna hit my sister from the back, FUCK JU, MAHN. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT JU FUCKIN’ TALK-ING ABOUT, MAHN! Ju mistaken, mahn. I don’t wanna fuck my sister, mahn. I WANNA FUCK JU MO-THER, MAHN! THAT’S RIGHT! I WANNA FUCK JU MUTHAFUCKIN’ MOTHER!

I bend ju mother over on the couch back, right mahn. Then, I let her say hello to mah lil friend from the back, right mahn. Then I hit it nice and slow, right. Oh jeah. In and Out, fuckin’ in and out, right mahn. And ju mother is lovin’ it, ha-ha, right mahn. She fuckin’ lovin mah lil friend in her, right mah.

AND - THAT”S - WHEN - I - FUCKIN - BUST - A -NUT - RIGHT - IN - HER - AZZ, MAHN!

And she shivering and drooling like a retard, right mahn. Ju mother just got her cootchie busted, mahn. And now she call me, papi. Ha-ha. And now Ju mother is in love with me, mahn. And ju can’t do shit about it, mahn. I’m ju new papi now, mahn. Now ju gotta give me the respect ju didn’t want to in the first place, mahn. JU GOTTA RESPECT ME NOW, RIGHT MAHN! Yes. Yes. That’s what I thought, mahn.

And to my lil buddy, T-Macq, mahn. When I offer ju somethin’ again, ju best take it mahn. Do ju hear me. So what, I only have the man readers, mahn. So what, ju only be gittin’ male azz from my site, mahn. WHEN I OFFER JU THE MALE AZZ, JU BETTER TAKE IT, MAHN! JU BETTER SAY, HOW DEEP JU WANT ME TO FUCK IT, MAHN. So what ju a homo after that, mahn. From mah prespective, being straight ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, mahn. Sure, I wouldn’t swing that way. I’d probably bang my sister first. Ha-ha. Don’t laugh. I fuckin’ kill ju if ju laugh, mahn. I FUCKIN KILL JU, MAHN!

Jest like I’m gonna kill this blog, mahn. I give ju mah word, mahn. Tomorrow will be mah last post, mahn. Then, I fuckin’ kill this shit afterwards, mahn. And believe ju, me, mahn. All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break them for no one, ju understain? JU FUCKIN’ UNDERSTAIN ME, MAHN!

My word, mahn, this shit is over.

Taking on online movie pirates
P2P is Murder

The bill… calls for up to three years imprisonment for anyone who illegally distributes a copyrighted work for profit, distributes pirated material worth more than $1,000, or videotapes movies in theaters. Subsequent offenses carry up to 10 years in prison for copyright infringment of pre-release movies for financial gain.

That means someone who has a movie on their computer that can be shared via a file-sharing software could face up to three years in prison…

Man, I’d hate to be one of the first dudes locked up for Internet movie piracy. That’s an ass raping waiting to happen. Dude one in there for killing his girlfriend and her mom. Dude two in there for moving heroin and cocaine over state lines. And your ass in there for releasing Star Wars before that shit hit the theater. Can you say, More dick in the mouth, please sir. I can’t believe they went and pulled this shit. Now, how the fuck is a nerdy ass, no life having mothafucka supposed to get props in this world.

I guess I don’t have to worry about that shit anymore because I quit with the Internet piracy long ago, if I ever alledgedly participated in such things. I personally can’t stand when people steal other people’s personal content. It’s bullshit. I know I’d be mad if someone came about my site, and copy and pasted all my shit onto some other shit and claimed they wrote it. I’d first wonder if they were retarded. I mean, please, my shit reads like it was written by monkeys, albeit, very intelligent monkeys. But still, monkeys nonetheless. Then, afterwards, I’d get very angry. It would be fake angry, but I’d still be angry.

The truth of the matter is that I probably wouldn’t give a shit, unless the dude found a way to make money off this shit, which I’ve come to realize is utterly impossible. Trust me, I’ve tried, oh Lord, have I tried. But I can’t make dough off this shit. Although I wish I could. Then I’d stay at home like all the other unemployed bloggers and act like I’m a journalist and break news that nobody gives a shit about. But at least I’d be making money off this shit.

That’s why I’m thinking about killing this crap and going legit, you know, doing a fuckin weblog without cursing or half naked chicks, with actual worthwhile content, done in a regular and timely fashion. The only problem with this is that I’m a lazy inconsistent bastard. Only crap I do regularly is eat, shit and sleep. And I’m too broke to even do that shit as consistently as I would like.

But, who knows, one of these days I’ll completely sell out. I’ll write about boring tech or multimedia bullshit. I’ll finally get them links from the bastards who refuse to link to me already. I’ll get major league hits. And I’ll become too busy to visit all you other little weak webloggers. Yeah, I’ll be big. And I’ll finally get that validation I never received from my father when I was growing up. Then, I’ll be something. I’ll be complete. And I’ll finally feel like a human for once in my life.

(Sappy music begins to play.)

(And we fade to black.)

New Playboy PSP feature
Another possible link
Direct Link to Content

This is for Playboy’s crappy multimedia feature that’s supposed to be uploaded to a PSP. These are the public non-nude pictures and video. The cyber club pictures are way better, or at least better than the public site ones. Unfortunately, they fucked Amy Sue up with crappy makeup and a crappy costume. I think they were going for some futuristic look. But in the end, it sucks. The reason I posted a direct link is that Playboy did some shady shit and tried to force me to opt in to their mailing list. I know many people hate that spam, so I posted a possible working link to get around it.

Kool Keith Record Bootlegged, Bogus Album Recalled

“The label [Warzone] represented that it was an official release, Keith represented that he cosigned on it and that it was a good situation,” Evans told AllHipHop.com. “I don’t know what happened between the two or how it went down, but we paid money, we didn’t get masters and someone else put it out.”We called it Return of Doctor Octagon. Whoever put the other one out, relabeled it Doctor Octagon Part II. Those are all pictures that the label took. We purchased the product, had artwork done and everything and then come to find out, I don’t know who’s hand it was, but the project was sold to another distributor. I’m not sure who that other distributor is, but my retailers called me to let me know they had been solicited with the product after the fact. It happens all the time in this game.”

Who the hell is Superman

Iowa-born Routh has been seen in small parts in ONE LIFE TO LIVE, OLIVER BEENE and GILMORE GIRLS. He recently filmed a small role in DEADLY, his first movie role, according to his website diary. He stands 6′2″ and just turned 25.

The only problem I have with the casting is that Topher Grace, who’s supposed to play Jimmy Olsen, looks older than this Routh guy. I just never viewed Olsen and Kent as contemporaries. Olsen’s like the little buddy. Hey little buddy go get me some coffee. Go wash my drawers. There always seemed to be a big brother/little brother relationship between the two. Now they’re the same age. And like I said, Topher looks older than Routh. But maybe it’s the pictures I’ve seen.

Superman Returns’ as … Routh?

“He’ll begin in his late 20s. He lost his powers in ‘Superman 2′ and now he has the powers back. But something has happened because he’s been away for a long time.”As for script secrets, Harris divulged, “We’re taking off from the first two Superman films with Christopher Reeve. We use his history and then move on with big twists and great special effects.

“We’re not going to do the origin story again. Our view is if you’re over 25 years old, then you’ve seen the Reeve films and that’s Superman to you. If you’re under 25, then you watch TV’s ‘Smallville,’ and that’s Superman to you.”

IMDb: Routh

Christopher Reeve Dead At 52

Reeve fell into a coma Saturday after going into cardiac arrest while at his New York home and died Sunday, his publicist, Wesley Combs told The Associated Press by phone from Washington, D.C.

Reeve, 52, was being treated at Northern Westchester Hospital for a pressure wound that he developed, a common complication for people living with paralysis. In the past week, the wound had become severely infected, resulting in a serious systemic infection.

IMDB: Superman
Christopher Reeves Filmography

I’m somewhat looking forward to this movie, although the buzz has me wondering. A bittersweet comedy? What the fuck is that? Might as well get Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan for the parts of Reed and Sue Richards. Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston. And just hearing the voice of Ray Liotta coming from the mouth of Dr. Doom. Ain’t that sweet. HA-HA-Ha-Ha-Ha. Fuck you, pay me! But I ain’t gonna piss on this shit before it actually gets made. It could be sweet. It might be the greatest comic book movie ever made. First it’ll have me laughing. Then it’ll have me crying. Yep, that’s just what the kids want, to laugh and cry.

And it can’t be all bad if it has Jessica Alba in it. Plus, I can see Michael Chiklis as Ben Grimm. I like The Shield. I thought he couldn’t pull that shit off, but he did, creating one of the greatest television characters in history. Plus, they’ll probably be using CGI up the ass. Only fault I see in casting is this Ioan Gruffudd dude. Who the fuck is he? I did a Google and found out he was in Blackhawk Down and Titanic. And I can’t say I remember who the fuck he was in either film. Probably a couple of doody roles, scenes I missed while in the toilet wiping my ass.

You would think that they’d go for a big time face to play the top guy in a big time movie like this. Although, the recent crop of super-hero movies have cast big time roles to a lot of small time players. Tobey Maguire had indy creds, but had no blockbuster movies under his belt. And the X-Men were filled with former models and dudes who weren’t ready for primetime. So, I guess it makes sense. But, like I said, I won’t beat up on the movie, yet.

Fantastic Four Movie
More Fantastic Four
Even More Fantastic Crap
Script Review Of Fantastic Four Movie

The Fantastic Four Movie You’ll Never See
A review

I just saw My Babies Daddy recently. The suprising thing is that Miramax put this shit out. Oh, and my mother was the one who bought the DVD. Bad title to be sure. Sounds like something that might come on cable’s black power channel, BET. Or whatever. The title makes the movie sound worser than it actually was. I was expecting a silver screened minstrel show. What I got was minstrel-lite with weak ass social commentary. And if many of the outtakes had made the cut, well, let’s just say that Homeboys From Outer Space might have lost its spot as the comedy black folks hate worse. Just think what heart attacks Jesse and Bill Cosby would have had then.

Elektra’s New Costume: Hot, But Not Too Hot

Spiderman just came out. I saw. It was good. Now I move on. I think the next big comic book movie might be Elektra. It’s getting major buzz right now. And everybody’s talking about the new Elektra costume look, which mostly mirrors the comic book version. I’m half-hearted about it. I’ve got to see some trailers, some more pictures, web site screen shots. I need something more to get me rolling. The movie’s definitely getting better pre-press than Punisher, which I kind of felt would tank. But it’s no where near the pub that the first Spiderman, or even the Incredible Hulk, got, which I might add was a better movie than most people might expect.

It looks like the movie will try to stay true to the comic book version, the female anti-hero, hot chick in red, back from the dead, trained to kill and destroy. The main villain will be Typhoid Mary, played by Natassia Malthe, whoever the hell she might be. Never heard of her. I could’ve done a Google and found out the crap she’s been in, but it would only be a waste of time. Although, she does look pretty good, even though she doesn’t seem to resemble Typhoid Mary one bit. She would probably have to be on a bad Courtney Love heroin binge to do the part justice. Maybe take hair styling tips from Kelis.

The plot: Elektra is sent by the Hand to kill the foreign dude slut doctor on ER and his daughter. Goran Veal chops, or some shit like that. Garner can’t go through with it and helps them to escape. The Hand then gets Malthe-model-chick to go and track them all down. And the big hoop-de-doo goes in effect. Sounds pretty standard. In fact, I think I might have seen this movie before. I just can’t put my finger on the name of that movie. I wanna say Terminator, but that ain’t it. Plus, he never starts off trying, wait maybe the third. I don’t know. I’m thinking of something else, another movie. Forget it.

Elektra still looks like it could turn out to be pretty good, especially if the two top chicks are dressed right. We already know that Elektra’s costume won’t be as revealing as it is in the comic book, but the skin tight leather pants have got to go. I’ll live with some biker shorts type shit. Julian! And if you got a hot ass model-turned-actress in your movie, you gotta get her half-naked. Trust me, design means everything in some shit like this. It could make or break the movie.

Guillotine Love

It was a long time ago in a land somewhere over there. The Bush were a bunch of bullies, who sent men from the far island to remove the remaining Dicks, for which I was a member and a master of the style popularly known as Wank-O-Memba. The greatest of these Bushes was Lil Kim Pu-Whoa-Nana. Adorned with pubic like horse weave intermingled with ass-gell, this Bush Master was a former student and current teacher of the great ancient style of the Flaming Monkey Pox, a technique, when wielded correctly, had the potential to dismember and decapitate a Dick from miles afar.

While on a fishing trip I was approached by two disciples of Bush, Big Slopipussi One and Buttay PuDrinkoback. They had been directed by the King Of the Bush to take any Dicks they saw roaming countryside. And for I was Dick, they attempted to deflate the member. Of course I bested these foes and continued on my way for a dinner at White Castle. All Dicks eat at White Castle. When Pu-Whoa-Nana got wind of this, not the White Castles, but the defeat of the Bush disciples, the Great Bush proceeded to track me down to avenge their deaths.

Despite Kim’s large ovarian fortitude, the Bush’s skills were indeed great without comparison. And once I caught wind of the impending Bush arrival, I did not know to be scared or excited, for I was excited for reasons not known to me. I also feared for my pupils who were not as skilled in the art of the intercourse of Dick-N-Bush. They were just learning the art of the clean after jerk, and the Feeliupchik. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me backtrack.

There was this concert which included the remaining member of Destiny’s Child, renamed, Beyonce, and Kurtis Blow and the Slappy White Band, performing great numbers and exhibits of great wonder. Backstage, Courtney L. and Whitney H. were smoking on some sweet stuff supplied to them by the former artist formerly known as the former artist and his great army of followers who had gained a great abundance of material and machinery to produce the aforementioned product. My pupils and I had been invited to this great event. I was not one to partake of the product, so I engaged my students and told them that we were there to observe the great High and use it simply as a learning tool.

Sometime passed and the event grew tiresome to me so I left. My students stayed behind to continue observing the great exercise. At some point the event was interrupted by an attack by Pu-Whoa-Nana. She unleashed her Bush fiery on the occupants. And at some point, someone’s head exploded. I did not see this spectacular event for I had left, but an associate that will remain nameless told me that the sight was spectacular.

So, anyway, the Bush tracked me down. And I had this incredible idea when I saw a kid stick his finger through a hole made by fingers from his other hand. And I did my best Howie Mandel impression and got some rubber and did some weird shit with it. Then I came up with some other idea, which I can’t recall at present. Anyway, to make a long story short, I beat the shit out of that Bush. I fucked that Bush up, yanawhuimean. I mean I kicked the shit outta that Bush. And that’s it. The story’s over.

Yeaah. I know that was a little anti-climatic. But the shit got away from me. And I get bored really easily. Plus, it was funnier in my head than for real. I mean, I’m reading through this shit, and I’m wondering if I should post this shit. I got a reputation to uphold. Christina and Britney need big daddy to keep the money raking in. You feel me. I can’t be putting out bullshit. I’m Octavius. You dig. I’m the mothafuckin’ greatest. I’m the king of this shit. Ain’t nobody betta than me. I created N’Sync, mothafucka. They give that fat white bastard all the credit, but I came up with all that shit: the dance moves, the lyrics, the gay look. That shit’s all me. I’m the gay look. I’m the originator of that shit. Without me there wouldn’t be a gay look. Without me there wouldn’t be homosexuality. I’m the king of all that shit.

The Fuckin’ King!

I figure a person could travel back in time if he wanted to. Sure it would take a lot of power, and it probably would take a hell of a long time. But it’s possible. Just not in this lifetime. Or your lifetime. Or any of our children’s lifetime. We haven’t even made it to Mars. And I wonder if we ever will in my generation. Going back in time just isn’t an option.

If someone had found a way to go back in time, I’m sure we’d already know about it. Or maybe we wouldn’t. Maybe time has been changed many times over and none of us even know it. Of course there’s no way a person can change time. It’s one of those paradoxes of time travel. You go back in time, and by going back in time you change time. Or you change time and therefore you never go back in time in the first place because what you went back in time to change never happened because you changed time. And we know the universe wouldn’t let something like that happen.

Therefore I think it can safely be assumed that no one can change time. Sure, a man can go from point A to point B, and from point B back to point A. But no man can erase the trace from point A to point B. Nothing in this universe can be erased. Perhaps transfigured, reconstituted, reshaped, but never erased.

Time is only a measurement of space. 1930 to 1940 is a measurement, not an event. A man learns to decipher the path from one second to one minute, one minute to one hour, one hour to one day, one day to one month, one month to one year, one year to one decade, and so on. A man learns the singular points of travel from yesterday to today. He learns the measurement from 3000 AD to 33 AD. He finds a vessel and a massive power supply to travel that distance. He goes to the singular point of 33 AD. A day, a hour, a minute, a second in the year of 33 AD. And finds that it does not matter.

He has traveled to a singular point in space. And he learns that the road he travels is similar to the road once made. And he learns that the journey he continues is similar but not the same. Because he has traveled to a singular point in space. And by doing so, he has created, and yet, not redefined. No one can travel the same journey twice. Everything that can happen, has happened, and will happen. He has created new mass. A new definition to an old solution.

No one can change time. They can only create beyond the singular point, create childlike baby strands nursing from the mother path, create from an averse situation. And that is why we will never know those that have traveled from the future. They are not with us any longer. They travel a road alone, made of their own choosing. They travel a road not much different from our very own, and yet, nothing like our very own.

I just wished I knew this before I tried.

I remember reading in some sexual nature type book about how young boys get together and have masturbatory pow wows. Now, I can safely say that I’ve never went over a friends house and got together with the boys, whipped out my penis and jerked off with’em. But I read where it stated that shit like this happened around when boys hit puberty. Luckily, I missed that shit.

I also missed the part where you watch porno with your boys. I’ve never watched porno with friends. Maybe a Playboy. But no hardcore shit. I honestly can’t see myself getting a hard-on with several other men in the room. I can’t do it. It’s weird. It just ain’t right.

Take a strip club. Several dudes go to a strip club. Other dudes are there drinking and laughing and looking at the naked ladies. Chicks circling around like vultures, trying to find a loser to talk up and separate him from his hard earned money. Why the fuck would I want to go somewhere where the chicks don’t love me? In fact, every aspect of who they are is false, including the name. They laugh at my lame ass jokes. They force themselves to find me interesting. All so that I might give them my money. Shit. That’s what a girlfriend’s for. And I get to sleep with her every once in a while.

There’s this scene in Auto Focus where Bob Crane and Carpy are down in the basement watching Hogan bang the fuck out of some chick. All out of the blue, Crane whips his dick out and starts jerking off. Carpy follows. Now you got two grown men on the same couch with their dicks in the their hands jerking off and talking to each other like shit ain’t a thing. Now this is supposed to be a true story. And I’m wondering how the fuck did they get to the point where they’re jerking off haplessly with each other while talking about sports and watching the Today Show.

By the way, the film ain’t all that great. It sorta drags at the end. I spent the last 45 minutes of the movie waiting for Crane to end up dead so that I’d know the movie was finally over. I guess it’s the same thing when watching the Passion of the Christ.

Batman. Nap time. I wonder if any of the greats got to star in their own vehicle. Everybody gets a try out on someone else’s team. Crazy china Fu Mang egg roll. Speak gibberish means that I got eye swollen. I got my colon checked out and my gums scrubbed down. Bought a pair a shoes, though I paid less, I got more. But they do look cheap. Wrestlemania. The Rock. The Rock is back. And I didn’t watch the Academy Awards.

You claim what you own. You accept the burden of ownership. You sacrifice in the name of ownership. You own what is mine, or my, or me. You accept the burden and sacrifice for it.

You have a wife and kids. You know they need food and housing and clothing. Do you say that you’ll give these things only if they ask. I know you need cloths. I want to provide food. But you have to ask me for it before I will give it to you. Bullshit. Doublespeak. Talking from your face and your ass.

You do for what you claim. You claim what you say is yours. You do not ask or wait for permission to sacrifice for what you claim you own. If you own it, it is yours. And it is your responsibility to take care of what you claim to own.

You accept the burden cleanly and do for what you say is yours. If your family is your family then you claim the burden, you accept the sacrifice for your family. You do not wait to be asked. You do. It is the burden of ownership, the sacrifice of the claim.

This has nothing to do with Batman. I actually spent the weekend looking for Detective Comics 27. It was on my mind. And someone spoke and took it off of it. I started to write about one thing and ended up writing about another. Sometimes it flows like that.

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