I'm sure most people have heard about the Alabama boy and his giant hog by now, but this story continues to disturb me.
I am not as interested in whether this was a hoax or not, whether Jamison Stone (age 11) actually killed this beast which his father claims measured 9 feet 4 inches, and weighed 1,051 pounds, but what concerns me the most is that mutant hogs like this one might be roaming freely across the United States.
If this is actually true, then it seems like a sign that the Apocalypse might be upon us. It also gives me very little motivation to ever pass through Alabama lest I be impaled by an unholy beast like this one.
Just seeing this swollen hog laid out like 600 lbs of sausage gives me the Fear. The massive hide. The tusks. The whole package screams of something spawned in hell, and it seems to beckon a reckoning of epic proportions.
But Jamison had no such fear as he told the Associated Press:
"It feels really good," Jamison said "It's a good accomplishment. I probably won't ever kill anything else that big."
Let's hope not because if the wild pigs get much larger than this, I'm nearly certain that the next appearance will be the 4 Horseman riding into town brandishing fire and brimstone.
I plan to ask for an explanation of the popularity of Josh Hartnett and "According to Jim" before I'm engulfed in flames.
-BDS
So we had a company-wide off-site meeting yesterday at a local bowling alley, which meant it was time to dust off my championship form and also listen to an increasingly strained speech given by our CEO concerning how bowling mirrored our business model. 
It was every bit as enthralling, and relevant as it sounds.
But I did not walk into this event unprepared as I am a bear for detail. It might have been more than a year since I last rolled a bowling ball, yet I felt undaunted and even cautiously optimistic about the endeavor - if I spent the proper time needed for professional preparation.
And I did.
First, I watched "Kingpin" on DVD. 
Next, I watched "The Big Lebowski" on DVD. 
Then I felt prepared.
My attention to detail paid off handsomely as I chalked up more strikes than an airline workers union in rolling my way to a cool 176, and willing my team to the overall victory.
In the process, I earned a nice $25 gift card to a local movie theater and an even greater level of respect from my fellow co-workers.
I felt my acceptance speech included the appropriate mix of humble appreciation and healthy confidence as I took the microphone during the presentaton ceremony, and explained that: "I owe our victory to an established history of athletic prowess, a rigid adherence to the company values and two Shiner Bochs. Thank you."
Victory is sweet.
-BDS
It feels like a random day today as I've got piles of work to catch up with, a Memorial Weekend hangover to cure and lots of coffee to drink.
But I couldn't start any of that before remarking on how much I've always respected Dennis Haskins, aka Mr. Belding from "Saved by the Bell," as he always dispensed wisdom and justice to Zack and the gang with an even hand and clear mind.
It must be this good karma he created that gives him the magnetism to net babes like these: 
I guess it does pay to be a high school principle, eh?
Moving down the respect meter, however, Nicole Richie simply needs to lock herself away in rehab until she gets healthy because appearing in public like this is far from it: 
I've said it before, and I'll say it again, until Richie gets some weight back on her frame, she boasts all the sex appeal of a 90-year-old Florida retiree withering in sun while playing bridge.
But there are depths far below Richie, and R. Kelly is the man to take things straight into the toilet. 
A few weeks ago, I mentioned this gem of a quote from the man facing roughly a dozen charges concerning alleged sex with a minor.
"My greatest competition is, well, me . . . I'm the Ali of today. I'm the Marvin Gaye of today. I'm the Bob Marley of today. I'm the Martin Luther King, or all the other greats that have come before us. And a lot of people are starting to realize that now."
Kelly has a new album about to drop, and one of his songs on the album, "The Zoo," features some powerful imagery and verbal mastery that might prove his genius after all.
"I got you so wet, it's like a rainforest
Like Jurassic Park, except I'm your sexosaurus, babe.'' - "The Zoo"
The man is a true poet.
But I have neither the time nor the inclination to ponder the deep undercurrents of R. Kelly as the coffee has now been brewed, and I'm sure things will get less random after the first cup.
At least it's a short week.
-BDS
Worth A Matinee or Full-Price Ticket: Matinee - You could argue that it's worth full-price due to sheer length (nearly 3 hrs), but I don't think it warrants the extra juice. That being said, if you're going to see it at all - do so on the big screen.
Will I Own It On DVD: Probably just to complete the trilogy as I own the first two.
1) The first Pirates movie was 15 minutes too long, the second was about 20 minutes too long and At World's End is 30 minutes too long.
2) For me, this installment definitely fell into the law of diminishing returns theory, and although it was a convuluted mess in terms of story and plot, it was still entertaining. 
3) It would be worth it simply for Johnny Depp's portrayal of Capt. Jack Sparrow as he continues his excellent character performance in this final film. Keith Richards even turns up in a surprisingly good cameo as Depp's father. 
4) Keira Knightly looks great, and she also has more to do in this film. That being said, I still have a hard time believing her ability to slay a multitude of pirates because she weighs about 90 lbs soaking wet.
5)When it takes 30 minutes to get your main character on-screen (Johnny Depp) and a signficant portion of the running time is then spent trying to explain the plot, you know things are far more complicated than they have a right to be for a Pirate movie. 
All in all, At World's End is a decent enough ending to a trilogy that was a pleasant surprise initially, and has survived mostly due to Depp's acting ability and giant set pieces that play very well to a summer audience.
If you liked the first two movies, this one is also worth seeing, but if pirates aren't your thing then this conclusion will not change your mind.
-BDS
The Center for Sex & Culture in San Francisco is sponsoring the 8th Annual Masturbate-a-thon TM* today at The Porn Palace at 415 Jessie Street in San Francisco, an event used to promote National Masturbation Month during the month of May, and to honor masturbation as a positive form of sexual expression and self-awareness.
Finally - a cause that brings us all together instead of ripping us apart. So, even if you can't get to SF today, I think you know EXACTLY what you can do to show your unwavering support for this fine cause.
It truly does feel good to give back sometimes.
-BDS
"Man, Mexico is what the United States could have been," - Luke Wilson, "The Wendell Baker Story"
It's the start of a long 4-day weekend for me as I decided to stretch the Memorial Day holiday for my own personal pleasure. These things happen. But before I give myself over to the carnal and slothful vices I have planned, let's take a look at the week that was:
Scott Stapp, former lead singer of Creed, was ordered to stay away from his wife and undergo random drug testing Monday after allegedly throwing a bottle toward her following an argument over him staying out all night, the Palm Beach County Sheriff's Office said.
A more fitting punishment would be to strap Stapp down to a chair and randomly play Creed songs for him, but that might be considered cruel and unusal punishment - I know it would be for me.
Paula Abdul broke her nose and a toe over the weekend after she fell while trying to avoid stepping on her Chihuahua, her publicist said Monday. 
Her publicist failed to address the giant porpoise and miniature unicorn that Abdul also saw due to her massive pill and alcohol consumption prior to her fall. Abdul was heard crying on her way to the hospital about injuries to "that poor little unicorn."
Nicole Richie denied that she dropped in and out of rehab for an eating disorder and pill addiction this week after several media outlets reported on her recent absence from the limelight. 
Instead of popping in and then out of rehab, perhaps Richie should stay a little longer or simply pop into the In and Out burger chain more often.
Jessica Simpson confirmed this week that her romance with rocker John Mayer is over.
It's probably for the best as the breakup should give Simpson more time to focus on salvaging her career, which has been reduced to appearing in public and flaunting her admittedly impressive chest.
"[Kiss' Gene Simmons] said that our kids are on drugs and that his aren't messed up like that. He'll always be C-list, and his wife's snatch has been rubbed on every pole in L.A. I'll fucking tear his head off and stick it up his wife's cunt!" - Sharon Osbourne told Blender magazine
That's one thing I respect about the Osbournes - there's never any fucking ambiguity with that clan of linguists.
Olympic speed skater Apolo Anton Ohno on Tuesday won "Dancing with the Stars" this week as he beat out former boy band 'NSync member Joey Fatone and world female super middleweight boxing champion Laila Ali, daughter of Muhammad Ali, to claim the title. 
After the results were announced, Fatone left to drown his sorrows at the Olive Garden and Ali beat Ohno's ass to a pulp.
In other reality news, Jordin Sparks took home the "American Idol" title and a $1 million record deal Wednesday night by beating Blake. 
I don't know why I'm so apathetic towards this show, but I simply do not care one bit about who won, what they sang or how quickly they will fade into oblivion (with a few exceptions - Kelly Clarkson & Chris Doughtery - but even a blind pig finds an acorn every once in awhile).
Besides, American Idol is much like in restroom of life as #2 seems to take always take precedence over #1.
Rosie O'Donnell and Elisabeth Hasselbeck squabble all the time on "The View," but Wednesday's dustup was particularly nasty with the co-hosts trading accusations and personal digs including words like "coward" and "terrorists."
I didn't think it was possible, but this feud is even lamer than the Rosie O'Donnell/Donald Trump brohaha and that's saying something.
But let's not end with big mouths and quarrells and bad feelings as this lifts my spirits: 
If you feel a breeze this weekend be thankful, don't bother covering your ass on the Memorial Day holiday and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
{This is the tenth in a recurring series that will only happen when I have consumed far too many spirits with my brother. Last night, a few pitchers of Sierra Nevada Summerfest were consumed which triggered strange thoughts, candid insights and pure horseshit. Selah.}
* If you want to get your woman to experiment with something new in the bedroom, start with a king hell foot massage, add champagne and suggest away.
* I have rarely, if ever, seen a straight male who can pull off wearing a hot pink shirt button-down shirt. 
* I have a fondness for ass-less leather chaps on women, but it's hard to find an appropriate place to wear them and very frustrating to deal with when a quick removal is called for. 
* There is absolutely nothing good that happens in a Men's locker room. It's best to quickly take care of your business and leave immediately.
* You look like a moron while eating corn on the cob, it's irritating as hell to pick out of your teeth, but it's so damn tasty. 
* If you have to buy a clever slogan and wear it on a t-shirt, you're probably not very clever in real life.
* If somebody claims to be an athlete and cites a bowling score - ask for more evidence. 
* A hot dog never tastes nearly as good as it does when you're eating it at a ballgame.
* Never tell another man he smells good.
* Always keep your resume updated, your pubic hair trimmed and your steak knives sharpened. 
* If you end up at Taco Bell at midnight in the middle of the week, there's a 95% chance you've been drinking.
-BDS
Amy Winehouse might be an imported music sensation from across the pond, and although she has a certain dirty charm with her beehive black hair and blatant drunkenness, I simply cannot express what an erection-killer teeth like this would be:
Stanley would be down for the count if she opened her mouth too wide - even if she was singing - as bad teeth are right up there with specials on how sausage is made and skinny-dipping in Alaska and all are guaranteed to result in a wet noodle limpness of spirit.
-BDS
"Please don't tell me how the story ends," - Kris Kristofferson
I've always preferred the limitless possibilities of beginnings to the concrete parameters that enclose most endings.
This feeling spans movies, television and especially books as there is nothing worse than a bad ending. Spending the duration of a novel with a group of characters who betray themselves or the fictional world they've inhabited at the conclusion is like a sucker punch to the kidneys and always leaves me feeling angry, disappointed or likely both at the same time.
"Angels and Demons" is a Dan Brown book that is a fine example of this problem. I am a sucker for ancient conspiracies and enjoyed the first half of the novel as a solid page-turner, but then Brown reached the end with a series of improbable events that turned out to be insulting to me as a human being. 
Consequently, his putrid ending spoiled the entire experience and I was pissed at myself for wasting time with the book, and at Brown for providing such an improbable climax.
The television show "Lost" recently announced it will end in 2010, an attempt to assuage fans who feared the series had no plans to wrap up and finish with any kind of dignity or answers to labyrinth of mysteries it has thrown at the audience since its inception.
I'm still not sure they have a satisfying ending up their sleeves, but I’m hoping that with 3 years to plan for one that they find a good answer.
The Lord of the Rings trilogy of movies concluded with "Return of the King," a film that refused to end as it kept tacking them on goodbyes, much to the chagrin of the audience. I actually enjoyed the multiple endings as it stayed fairly close to the actual books, but I understood the criticism from those whose asses were numb from sitting for 3 1/2 hours. 
More recently, "The Wedding Crashers" proved that flat-out stupid endings won't cause a movie to suffer at the box office. The finale of this comedy made no sense in the context of the film as the four main characters essentially throw their hands up, say we're regressing to our earlier role of wedding crashing and we'll just drive off into the sunset.
This ridiculous conclusion only worked because there were enough laughs preceding it that audiences were inclined to remember the hilarious shenanigans at the guest house rather than the shitbomb of an ending.
'Crashers' is most relevant to me right now because I’m 75 pages into a comedy screenplay, charging hard towards the finish line and yet I am still at a loss as to how to wrap up the loose ends and make a finale that works.
This is turning into a paralyzing factor in my writing, and nearly as frustrating as soft-core pornography. We'll see how it turns out, although I'm nearly ready to slap anything into place to be able to write "The End" at the bottom of the last page.
But then I think of Brown and many others who have butchered endings with sharpened steak knives and it's back to the drawing board because when you nail a conclusion that matches the initial wonder at some fictional world, then you've hit the bulls-eye.
The chances of missing it are large, but it's better to aim for the target than to simply shoot yourself in the foot.
-BDS
{This is the seventh in a semi-regular series of posts regarding great cinematic sex scenes as defined by me. This is completely arbitrary and open for interpretation, but so is life.}
"Fast Times At Ridgemont High" was an excellent 80s film which introduced viewers to the talent of Sean Penn as stoner Jeff Spicoli, the strict teachings of Mr. Hand, and also the teenage fantasy produced by Phoebe Cates undoing her tiny red bikini top and exposing her nearly perfect breasts. 
This last part also produced one of cinema's greatest sex scenes involving self-love, and might also constitute Judge Reinhold's best on-screen moment.
The action takes place inside a bathroom as Reinhold vividly imagines his sister's best friend (Cates) swimming at their pool and then emerging in a wet lather that causes her to shed her top. Reinhold plays the role of judge, jury and masturbation executioner on himself as he digs deeper into the fantasy.
The look on his face is priceless - at least until Cates opens the bathroom door to find Reinhold flogging the dolphin.
Her look of shock is hilarious. His embarrassment is palpable. And then Reinhold turns from shame to anger as he disgustedly exclaims "Doesn't anybody fucking knock anymore?"
Reinhold has only himself to blame for breaking the first rule of masturbation (always lock the door), but his forgetfulness propels this scene into greatness and earns it a place among the very best.
-BDS
Q: "What's your major?"
A: "Poetry" - Girl in tiny bikini
"Then maybe you can help me straighten out my Longfellow." - Rodney Dangerfield, "Back to School"
It seems like a slow week in Hollywood as there were no major arrests, drug scandals or general perversion that came to light. All of which means the news was generally slow and boring, which worked for me because the sun was out in Austin and patios and ice cold Shiners were calling my name, but this combination didn't make me nearly as happy as . . .
Paris Hilton must be as she will only serve about half of her 45-day jail sentence and will be separated from the general inmate population, authorities said Wednesday. Her sentence was shortened after jail officials gave her credit for good behavior..jpg)
I'm not sure what constitutes "good behavior" for Hilton, but she's set the bar so low in the past (sex tapes, arrests, generally poor grasp of reality) that I guess there's nowhere to go but up.
Actor Sylvester Stallone pleaded guilty Tuesday to bringing vials of a restricted muscle-building hormone into Australia after the actor was found with 48 vials of human growth hormone during a Feb. 16.
And all this time I thought the fact that Stallone seems to be getting more muscular after turning 60 years old was an entirely natural process. You could have blown me over with a feather when that illusion was shattered.
Kenny Chesney collected his third consecutive entertainer of the year trophy Tuesday as the Academy of Country Music awards. 
During Chesney's 3-year domination, he has also managed to provide to provide zero entertainment value for $2 Dollar Productions unless you count the number of times we've laughed at a grown man who still wears a pukka-shell necklace.
Bruce Willis is furious his "yippe-ki-yay, motherf**ker" catchphrase has been cut from his upcoming film, "Live Free or Die Hard." He blamed the decision on the studio who wanted the movie to boast a PG-13 rating.
He said: "It does make it a little more difficult. They don't want to see a lot of blood squirting out of bad guys. You can still do a lot of horrific things - you just can't say the word 'f**k' more than twice."
The misplaced priorities of the ratings board is always disturbing because the rationale that decapitations and other violence is passable, but that the post-killing swearing will cause irreversible damage to today's youth is laughable and pathetic.
Speaking of the corruption of youth, R. Kelly said recently:
"My greatest competition is, well, me . . . I'm the Ali of today. I'm the Marvin Gaye of today. I'm the Bob Marley of today. I'm the Martin Luther King, or all the other greats that have come before us. And a lot of people are starting to realize that now."
I don't care how self-aggrandizing you are R. Kelly, you still peed on and had sex with an underage girl and videotaped it, and you will never be great.
The actor who played Bud on Married…With Children, David Faustino, was busted for possession of marijuana this week in Florida. 
Ignoring the obvious irony that Faustino (aka Bud Bundy) was arrested for carrying illegal Bud, a consider this arrest to be part of his career resurgence as getting arrested is not a bad thing in Hollywood and I've even seen him turn up in a few McDonald's ads recently - you're back Faustino.
Lindsay Lohan has beaten Eva Longoria to be named the world's hottest woman by Maxim magazine as Lohan topped the magazine's annual list of the 100 hottest women.
Personally, I think in the spirit of fair play Longoria and Lohan should oil wrestle for the crown - privately - with my input providing the entire basis for the winner. And let me just say that I'm morally flexibile in these type of scenarios.
But let's put an end to corruption, and end with a pleasing image:
Aren't we all rebels in some way, and even if you feel the need to conform and don't wear your heart on your ass . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
{This is the third in an occasional series documenting some of the horrendous CD choices that I've made over the years with attempts to put into context/explain the rationale behind such purchases.}
I have nearly 500 CDs, which is by no means massive, and although I've weeded my collection down over the years by selling discs to used music shops and passed others away to friends, there still lurks many albums that have survived for various reasons - little of which involves actual musical talent.
Artist: Sophie B. Hawkins
Album: Whaler
Times Played Since 2000: 0 
This is one of those albums that I have no recollection of buying or receiving, and I know for a fact that I didn't steal it from somebody, yet it remains in my CD collection to this day.
It's a complete mystery as I have no other Sophie B. Hawkins albums nor do I recall much about the artist herself except that I think she has a decent voice and was fairly good-looking. 
{Editor's Note: My memory regarding her looks is very hazy as well and I have no idea how closely this matches up to Hawkins or if it's even her}
I do remember that one song, "As I Lay Me Down," from the album as it was fairly popular as a soft-spoken lullaby-like tune back in the 90s. But that track doesn't seem like nearly enough to justify spending money on the album, a purchase which obviously transpired at some stage during the past two decades.
Work will have to be put on hold today until I figure this out, and once I do solve the mystery, it's onto tackling the Bermuda Triangle and the force that loses my socks in the dryer.
-BDS
I visited my Doctor yesterday for my annual physical, a habit I re-started last year and yet I still question why as the experience is never fun.
My arm hurts from an unexpected Tetnus shot. My veins throb from giving blood. And my pride is in woeful shape after doing it all while wearing a paisly-patterned table-cloth that ties around the neck and leaves your entire backside exposed like yesterday's salmon. 
It's my belief that doctors and medical staff in general force this "clothing" on you to sap your will and drain your self-respect, thus giving them an even greater advantage when making judgements about your health.
I mean is there anything that you can wear that would leave a person feeling more vulnerable?
It's possible that I didn't feel as vulnerable as this poor woman, who found herself at the hands of a passion-starved Panda Bear, but I still felt vulnerable nonetheless. 
The situation only got bleaker as we reached the conclusion as I received the standard check which forced me to let the doctor grab my balls, turn my head to the side and cough.
Repeatedly.
I always want to say "Hell doc, I'll hack up a furball if you'll kindly let go of my two best friends." But I never do.
It's just the icing on the cake of an experience that with any luck at all only happens once a year. Small favors.
-BDS
I've been casually interviewing over the past month following a re-organization at my current company under the guise that's it always best to have a soft place to land if things go completely sideways.
I actually ended up with a promotion and raise following the change, however, sometimes it is a necessary evil to dust off your interviewing skills which can get rusty very quickly.
Casual interviewing is like casual sex in that both can be rewarding as a form of ego-stroking and skill sharpening, yet both can also be perilous adventures in buffoonery. Leaving aside the sexual aspect, interviewing is simply one big dog and pony show where you try to present yourself as the answer to all of a company's problems while minimizing any perceived weaknesses.
The most ridiculous part of the process is typically the initial screenings where organizations attempt to weed out the complete lunatics.
This is where you get the number of asinine questions reaches a zenith as there are too many to count, but my favorite (and by favorite I mean the one filled with the highest ratio of utter bullshit) is give me three weaknesses about yourself that could effect your job performance. Everyone knows this is a loaded question ripe for a moronic response.
The only question is how thick to lay it on with some derivation of:
A) I work too hard
B) Have a hard time finishing a project until everything is perfect
C) I care too much
And they are all bullshit. You know it. The screener knows it. Everybody knows it, yet this question nearly always arises.
I would love to find a job that I hated in an industry that I didn't care about burning bridges just so I could answer my three weaknesses with something like:
A) I like to club baby seals in my off-time, which sometimes means I bring that aggression with me into the office and attempt to flog the accountants into submission. 
B) I sniff glue in the parking lot at lunch to save money on food and make the afternoon go faster. 
C) I often troll for transsexual hookers very late at night, and consequently, any meetings that occur before 11 a.m. are often difficult for me to attend. 
That would be a very satisfying interview.
-BDS
