For the past few weeks I have noticed a certain similarity in my movie and television choices. For some reason in almost everything I have watched, the actor Jared Leto has popped up. This probably is not that noteworthy, I like Jared Leto, he is a good actor and some of the movies he appeared in are my favorites.
I did notice one thing with these films and with a little research, I saw the trend continued. Filmmakers want Jared Leto to suffer a turrrrible fate as often as possible. It seems like in everything appears in he is treated like the human punching bag, maybe he just has a punchable face, maybe he seeks out roles with the requirement of things do not end well for him. Whatever the reason may be, it is now time to look back in a feature I like to call: “Jared Leto Does Not Get Treated Well In Movies.”
********Caution: Obvious Spoilers********
“Fight Club” (1999)
Edward Norton releases a furry of fists on Jared Leto’s character Angel Face’s face. Later in the film he goes through some pretty intense psychological trauma.
“American Psycho” (2000)
Caution: Do not watch this if you are a child, or squeamish
“Requiem For a Dream” (2000)
You only need to watch the first minute to see his horrible fate. Turn it off then or suffer a depression.
“Lord of War” (2005)
In case there was any doubt that the first machine gun did not kill him, the second one did a pretty decent job, and then there was that third one.
“Chapter 27” (2007)
So I have to admit that I have not actually seen this movie but I do know that the character he is portraying is not exactly healthy and functional.
Wow he has been destroyed so many times. One of the only real victories I have ever seen his character have is getting Angela Chase in the television series “My So Called Life,” but even then his character Jordan Catalano was illiterate and I found Angela (Claire Danes) to be obnoxious anyway.
So who are some other actors you can think of that have continually suffered horrible fates?
The other day I was watching Noah Baumbach’s movie titled “Kicking and Screaming,” (not the Will Ferrell Soccer thing) and there was a scene in the movie where the friends were all in a bar arguing over the titles of all of the “Friday the 13th” movies.
It blew my mind for a second as I wondered why they did not just look it up on someone’s smart phone. Then I realized this was 1995. It is so weird to me that there was a time when trivia arguments at the bar could not be settled by a quick cell phone internet search. I have seen those large phones Zach Morris owns, despite the comically huge stature there is not so much as a Google Search bar on them. What were the other options; have the answer paged to you? That is not how a pager works is it? Did people just agree to disagree, write the question down, research it later then rub the answer in their friends face the next day? Not for me. I need to instantly rub in the correct answer of which actor played Grand Moff Tarkin in “Star Wars IV.” (Peter Cushing)[*Writer’s note to men: knowledge of “Star Wars” cannot help you get women, in fact it most likely can hurt any small chance you might have had.
What I am getting at is that thanks to new technology we are living in an age of instant gratification. Any information we would like is right at our fingertips, it is nearly impossible to not get contacted by someone that wants to contact you. My phone was broken for a week last year and it was difficult at first but I soon grew to like not being available to everyone at anytime. When someone says “hey why didn’t you text me back,” instead of having to act all confused and be like “oh dumb phone, I do not know if I got that message.” I could just tell them I have no phone.
So information is everywhere and more accessible than ever before. There are even text message answering services for those without internet on their phone. A popular free text message answering service is called Cha Cha. To use Cha Cha simply text any question to the number 242242. Usually within minutes you will receive an advertisement, then the answer; many times it’s correct sometimes it comes out of left field…but you get what you paid for.
I had just watched “The Social Network,” and felt like a loser if I was not using the internet to make money so I looked into working for the question answering service known as Cha Cha. I had heard that Cha Cha pays anyone with an internet connection to sit at their computer anytime they are available and answer the incoming questions. Becoming a Cha Cha question answerer or as we call in the biz an “expeditor” turned out to be a longer process than clicking: Start.
You begin the process by visiting http://becomeaguide.chacha.com/. From there you can begin the tutorial. There are several training videos you have to watch each ranging from 8 minutes to 26 minutes. At the end of each video you have to pass a test about that video (to prove that you were not playing Angry Birds during the videos, as I was). The videos show you the quickest way to answer the incoming texts using cha cha’s interactive search site. They have it set up to be able to directly search the web, search frequently asked questions, or type in your own answer. After going through all of the training videos that cover every single aspect of the process, you have to take the final test, which is answering 10 incoming texts. It is nerve racking at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes quite easy.
I took the test and what was supposed to be four to six days, became a month later, Cha Cha contacted me saying congratulations you are a Cha Cha expeditor. So I began my conquest earning .02 cents a question. It is nice because you can get on anytime you would like and just start answering questions while watching television. Sometimes there are really interesting questions and you learn a new fact. Sometimes the question is “Hey if you are a girl, will you give me your number.” Either way every answer is .02 cents added to the account that I can eventually cash in. So far in a week after going about 30-45 minutes a day I am up to $7.00. I know that does not seem like a lot but it is money earned while I watch TV. Right now, I figure if I can earn a dollar a day from this, eventually in 4.17 years I will have enough to buy my $1,500 dream from Ebay; The “Baywatch” Pinball machine.
So if you are interested in purchasing a “Baywatch” Pinball machine in 4.17 years join me as a guide on Cha Cha. Or just get a real job — lame.
In the words of comedian Louis C.K. “it’s easy to have the body you want, you just have to want a [crappy] body.” Well I did it my friends, I have achieved the body I want. With this body it is no wonder the ladies are always lining up. The phone is always ringing off the hook, and when I walk into Quincy’s finest night clubs, people act like teen rap duo Kriss Kross just made an entrance. They are still relevant aren’t they?
If I did not learn to laugh at myself by now, getting up in the morning would not be an option. So this body is achieved by making regular trips to McDonald’s and Hardees, and if you are like me sometimes the food there is just not unhealthy enough. Well rest assured, here are two special ways to mak e sure you get the most artery blockage for your buck; we are going to take things a little further and venture off the menu.
Sometimes I enjoy a late night out on the town. It is not because I like being in public and around people. I hate people. I enjoy a late night out because it means at 3 a.m., I have the option of going to Hardees and ordering the Quincy specialty “The Herald.” This perfect concoction of a biscuit, eggs and tator tots smothered in gravy hits the spot like you would not believe after a night of revelry with friends. I have spent many nights after attending a party, racking my brain with my friends trying to get a competent driver to answer the phone and make the trek to Hardees. It all balances out because I cannot count the nights that I have been woken up and requested to make a Herald run. It is also customary to purchase a Herald for the awoken driver. It is the right thing to do, just the way I was raised I guess. So next time you find yourself out at 3 a.m., do yourself a favor and secure a safe driver and get to Hardees to order a Herald. Also the Herald is exclusively made at the Hardees on Broadway. So if you are on 12th street, you are just going to have to settle for chicken strips.
This next item is elusive and mythical and not always a sure thing. I am referring to a Big Mac at McDonalds, however, the burger patties are replaced with chicken patties. This item is not on the menu and has no name. For no reason other than it sounds funny, my friends and I have come to call it the McCrypty. It is a finicky ordering process. Going to the drive-thru will yield no results. The McCrypty requires face to face explanation. Enter the McDonalds with confidence, but not arrogance, order the McCrypty like you are ordering a happy meal, as if it would be absurd to have your request denied. When the worker says “I do not know if I can do that, let me get a manager,” politely explain your request to the manager, depending on the personnel your request may get the go ahead. If your wish is granted, celebrate and be proud, because the McCrypty is awesome. If you are denied, do not be a jerk, you failed; just try again at the other McDonalds or when a new manager is in.
Does anyone else know of any off the menu items at restaurants around town? If you do, please fill me in by commenting.
The past year has been very memorable for me.
I worked on my beard, almost beat Super Mario 3 on Nintendo and invented a few dance moves that have gotten rave reviews on the floor.
Wow. Reading what I just wrote, I would have to say that the year was way more memorable for the literally dozens of friends of mine who got engaged. The engagements are happening at a rapid pace, and it is blowing my mind. I figured my peers would start getting married someday. I just assumed it would happen when we were ”grownups.”
Honestly, I have come to understand that marriage is a commitment for life. The biggest commitment I have made is an eight pound bag of French Fries from Sam’s Club, and there is still about four pounds left in the freezer, and it is freaking me out.
So I would like to take a moment to congratulate all of my friends and family members that have gotten engaged in this banner year. May your lives be filled with no sickness but lots of health and in the words of Whitney Houston pre-drug days, “So I wish you joy and happiness, but above all this, I’m wishing you — luuuuuuuuuuuvvv.”
My first instinct is to suggest my inclusion as ring bearer. I can offer the bride and the groom complete assurance that the ring will arrive to its intended destination right on time. That is much more than I can say for the half-wit five-year-olds that I have been losing out to on the ring-bearing gig.
With friends all choosing “cute as a button” over speedy reliable delivery service, I figured it was time to take matters into my own hands and become an ordained minister. Who does everyone listen to on the wedding day? Who gets to make an awesome speech that everyone clings to? Who has the power to say when the groom even gets to kiss the bride? That’s right. The person overseeing the entire wedding.
Thanks to the help of The Universal Life Church at www.themonastary.com, I was able to license myself as a minister before lunch. Also if I can save up $26.99, I can buy the ordination package, which includes “a beautiful credential for your wall, a clergy badge, a plastic personalized wallet card credential, parking placard and the Minister Window Cling.”
Surprisingly, becoming the minister was the easy part. Now the difficult part is getting lovebirds to agree and let me tie the proverbial knot.
I’m offering up my services to not only my friends, but anyone who is looking for a minister for an upcoming ceremony. I promise 100% satisfaction, and I can bring your ceremony to life. I offer so much more than the standard minister, including but not limited to a really awesome cape, a smoke machine, kazoo playing for the bride’s entrance and exit, and a six foot unicycle.
All I am asking is that a couple out there give me a chance. After all, love is patient and love is kind.
Be kind to me.
As I hunched against the small amount of coverage, breathing heavily, horrified by the carnage taking place all around me the great William Wallace’s words echoed in my heart, “Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you’ll live —at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin’ to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they’ll never take… OUR FREEDOM!”
Despite feeling brazen empowerment, I have to admit I was afraid, but images of my loved ones filled my mind and gave me a reason to fight. I set my laser from stun to kill and jumped out of hiding — I was taken out instantly by a nine year old.
At that moment the lights came on and the voice over the intercom said “game over, please make your way to the exit.” I headed back confident in having a high score although, my score sheet told a different story. It says I was in ninth place out of nine with 3.5% effectiveness rating, which is why I do not trust stats, or fact sheets. Win or lose I did just have a blast at Quincy’s new laser tag arena inside Scottie’s Fun Spot. Despite the unfortunate name that is sure to incite many middle school jokes, Scottie’s is seriously fun. In addition to laser tag, the Scottie’s Skateland upgrade includes bumper cars, mini-lane bowling, a huge indoor play-place/ball pit, and tons of arcade games.
I was sold on going when I heard the word’s laser tag. I figured that it was imperative to have at least one kid accompany us to help people overlook our twenty-two year oldness. In order to stay off a list I opted out of standing outside of the grade school asking kids if they wanted to play, especially because I’m working on a moustache right now. Instead we invited my friend Brian’s little brother from Big Brother/Big Sister’s program.
- How I saw myself.
It was $5 a person for a 15 minute session and it was worth it.
I know that the mechanics of a Blaster are far superior to that of a laser gun, but for those 15 minutes I was Han Solo. So next time you are looking for something to do, I recommend hitting up Scotties Fun Spot at 8000 Broadway. If you feel that you are too old for such activities remember the words of Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother, “Laser tag knows no age restrictions, much like stripping in the Midwest.”
Altogether Laser tag was an awesome time and I am happy that Quincy now has it readily available for when I need to settle feuds.
“Super Fresh, now watch me jock. Jocking on them hater’s man, When I do that Soulja Boy, I lean to the left and crank that thang.”
These lyrics, on top of a very simple beat, kept an artist named Soulja Boy, now named Soulja Boy Tell ‘em, at number one on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 for seven weeks. Yeah, the point being that just because music is commercially successful does not mean it is not crap.
Growing up with two sisters I was fortunate enough to be exposed to a cornucopia of NOW compact discs, which if listened to now would quickly eat away my soul. Considering my background, my friend Mike Thompson and I decided to have a contest to see who could make the worst possible five song play list. To select the worst list, we called upon local WGEM celeb, and music guru Mike Fay. The criteria for which playlist is the worst is all up to Mr. Fay. Last night Mike received both CD’s anonymously and as you can read here he is taking the job very seriously. http://finkleandfaybomb.blogspot.com/2010/12/judging-horrific-music.html
This idea was originally done by one of my favorite comedians Aziz Ansari. Here is a video of his contest.
To make this event our own, Mike and I decided to raise the stakes for the loser of the contest, the loser being the one who made the least crappy playlist. The loser of the contest must perform a six minute Shake Weight routine on the center of the QU campus during a passing period of classes. The routine will be done with the crappy playlists blasting.
Fay will be done giving each play list equal listens and have the verdict out this Sunday. Stay tuned to the Local Q to find out the winner and watch the video of the shake weight routine. In the meantime you be the judge of which playlist is the worst.
- Murry Head – “One Night In Bangkok”
- Lou Bega – “Mambo Number 5”
- Buster Poindexter – “Hot Hot Hot”
- Shaggy – “Wasn’t Me”
- Jlo Ft. Ja Rule – “I’m Real”
- Aaron Carter – “Aaron’s Party”
- Nickleback – “Figured You Out”
- Cher – “Believe”
- Billy Ray Cyrus – “Achy Breaky Heart”
- DJ Pauly D – “Beat Dat Beat”
Ever since I was young, I always longed for “a place.” “Seinfeld” had Monk’s Coffee Shop, “Friends” had Central Perk, and “Doug” had Honker Burger in the Nickelodeon series, then Swirly’s in the Disney series.
I blame part of this obsession on growing up in a rural area where you could not just walk to a restaurant. It blew my mind, and I remember thinking “wow, I cannot wait for high school when our friends meet up at the place every day.” (I did not really have too lofty of goals as a child. I remember watching “Saved by the Bell,” when I was younger and yearning for a spot at The Max. What was the deal with The Max anyway? Did Bayside High own it? If not then why did they always have school functions there? I also do not feel like anyone ever paid to eat there, they just got their food from the wise cracking, problem-solving magician, without actually ordering. It was a horrible business plan.
I have always been captivated by the possibilities of meeting up at “the place,” with my core constituents, getting in our usual booth or couch (everyone mentioned above ALWAYS got their preferred booth or couch) and discussing the minutiae of our day. We would discuss pressing issues, like if my friend was finally going to get the nerve to ask out Patty Mayonnaise, or if Jerry’s date went well with “man hands.” Ah freck, I blurred television and reality again.
The point is, I want “a place,” I want there to be a certain place that I could walk in at most times of the day and my group will be there in the usual booth. I want to be able to refer to “the place,” as “the place,” and no questions would be asked as to which place. Right now I am far from my goal, every time we are going to go dine somewhere, I have to call a few friends and say “let’s go eat,” then they say “where do you want to go?” Then I will be all like “I don’t care, where do you want to go?” and they’re like “I don’t care, I am up for anywhere.” Despite their apathy toward the location they shoot down five of my suggestions before settling. No more of that please, I want to establish a base and use that base often, variety is overrated anyway.
I am currently scouting out a few locations to make “the place.” This morning I had breakfast at what could be a top contender. Sydne’s Café and Catering located at 234 North 12th Street filled many of my criteria for being my holy grail. It is a very comfortable place, aesthetically pleasing and warm. Sydne’s had a full breakfast and lunch menu, and turned out to be very good. I recommend the potatoes O’Brien. Although the waitress did not appear to be a magician, she was very friendly and attentive. The next step is to bring friends here for multiple meals, until it becomes a habit, then my sad little dream will come true. Try out Sydne’s Café, it’s very good, but I call dibs on my preferred table, after all, it is “the place.”
When a group of guys get together without much to do, more likely than not, stupid things are going to happen. This can be almost guaranteed when there is not an xx chromosome in sight.
I would also bet that every “impossible” food challenge was invented by a group of gentleman that had a free evening, and had not purchased “Call of Duty: Black Ops” yet. An evening such as this came about yesterday, and it was decided that we should take on some of these so called “unattainable” food challenges. I do have a little experience in the challenges, last year, after hearing the impossibilities of completing the Gallon Challenge (drinking a gallon of 2% milk or more in one hour without eating anything, and of course keeping it down.) I felt a calling to take on the challenge and completed it successfully with two minutes to spare. What followed was the worst stomach ache I can ever recall. The terrible ache was enough for me to hang up the ol’ food challenge umm, bib, until last night.
Googling “challenges like the gallon challenge,” brought up a profusion of dumb things people have researched and found difficult to consume. We decided to go with the cinnamon challenge, which is swallowing a tablespoon of cinnamon without water. We also decided to try two slices of bread in 45 seconds, and six saltines in one minute.
I have previous experience with the cinnamon challenge and am still getting over the horror of it all, so I opted out. My friends Mike, John, and Paul took on the challenge. Everyone threw back the spoonful of cinnamon. John and Paul went with the method of trying to down it all at once. Big mistake, Paul started coughing little puffs of cinnamon smoke, then doubled over and the vomiting began. John wasted no time hanging over the porch and losing everything he ate that day. Mike took the cinnamon slower and worked it down; needless to say he was a lot less funny to witness. This really is a horrible challenge to experience and I do not know how it came about. The cinnamon balls up in your throat and infiltrates the sinuses. Dumb.
Next we tried the two slices of bread in 45 seconds.
This is probably possible but none of us completed it. I won with a little over one minute. The saltines should have been next, but Walgreens did not have any. We probably could have called it a night at this point, but instead it only seemed natural to search the fridge and create our own. A brave soul named Ramone went with the hot sauce. I give him a 7/10 for perseverance and hear. Next up we found a neglected gallon of milk about half full with an expiration date of Oct. 5, yeah. With coaxing and the deal of $5 for just trying, $10 for finishing and $15 for finishing and keeping it down, Paul stepped forward. Let’s just say he earned five bucks, bleck.
Altogether it was a moronic, but entertaining evening. Next time a slow evening comes about, such as this one, I’ll probably just read a book.
I am a strong supporter of having an arch-nemesis in one’s life. I am defining arch-nemesis as someone involved in a certain area of your life where there is a level of competition. Whether this competition is legitimate or in your warped little brain, it is imperative to not be out done by the arch-nemesis. This could be a coworker, fellow student, workout buddy, or even a second cousin. The importance cannot be stressed enough.
Having an arch-nemesis helps keep you on your toes. The presence of an arch-nemesis does not allow you to get too comfortable, and can help prevent settling for fear of your opponent one upping you. Batman has The Joker, Optimus Prime has Megatron, Gary Busey has the voices in his head. While the stakes might not seem as high as those examples, I can assure you the danger is very real with my newfound arch-nemesis Pat.
Pat does not want to be called Pat, he wants to be called Patrick or his real name Richard. As he is my arch-nemesis it is part of my duty to never give into his wishes, or unreasonable demands. For the past few months I have been wandering aimlessly, my past nemeses were no longer around. The previous one I took care of once and for all last spring. Just kidding, he graduated and moved on, or did he? I should have known not to get too comfortable, because there is always a new nemesis lurking nearby. Like me, Pat is a Resident Director at Quincy University. Pat oversees a staff of three Resident Assistants, but I have four, so I win. It is a nice gesture to provide the RA’s with a snack during the weekly meeting. I believed that I was doing well by buying ice cream bars for the meetings. In my mind everything was going well, the residents had not burned the building down and the RA’s were enjoying weekly ice cream. Everything changed one week however, when one of my RA’s made the following statement: “Pat makes dinner for his staff every week, and he brought us some chicken parmesan last week, why don’t you ever make us dinner?” Cut my life into pieces. That is how Pat became THE arch-nemesis.
To help combat Pat’s dinner offensive, I called upon the help of the love of my life, Food Network star Giada De Laurentiis. Though some might say I am obsessed with Giada, I would not because that has a negative connotation. I would call myself a spirited fan. I decided it was time to actually look at the recipes and not just the pictures in my Giada’ s Kitchen cookbook: Veal Chop Saltimbocca, Fennel Slaw with Prosciutto and Pistachio Pesto, Swiss
Chard and Sweet Pea Manicotti. Let’s just say these recipes were intimidating, especially because my culinary specialty is eggs in the microwave. I finally found something doable in the Just for Kids section of Giada’s book. The Sweet and Sticky Chicken Drumsticks looked simple and the picture looked delicious. Despite guesstimating the amount of ingredients without a measuring cup, a balsamic vinegar spill, and not reading that the chicken needed two hours to marinate, the dinner got a big thumbs up from the RA staff. I did not have to use the “just in case frozen pizzas” I purchased, and I got to bust my first garlic clove, a proud moment in every man’s life.
So, all together the meal was a success and I was able to keep my arch-nemesis at bay…for now. This does not mean I will rest easy, for I am sure that as I am typing this he is buying his own Giada Cook Book, or perhaps renting Rachel Ray for a cooking session. Who knows what lengths my opponent will go to defeat me, all I know is that I will be ever diligent, and I will buy some measuring cups.
After spending too many hours on a Christopher Nolan movie marathon, I decided it was time to stand up and do something. So many people are out doing so many extraordinary things, and I just ate an entire box of Honey Combs.
According to The Ethnologue Organization (yeah, it’s a thing), there are 6,809 distinct languages in the world, and I only know one and I ain’t even that good at it (ask The Local Q editors). My lack of languages was very depressing, so I decided to buckle down and learn another one. After doing some research on Rosetta Stone’s website and seeing the price of the program, I decided being bi-lingual is overrated.
My next inspiration came while I was using stumbleupon.com and stumbled across a blog written by a guy who biked across America in memory of his deceased father. This was exactly the worthwhile event that I was looking for. I love riding bicycles and I love doing things in memory of stuff. The stars have aligned.
There were many steps I needed to take before I could start bicycling for a cause. First, I needed a bicycle. I have been living bike to bike since my Dino Comp ceased to exist in 5th grade due to too many extreme stunts (and by extreme stunts, I mean I forgot it at our previous house when we moved). This problem was easily solved thanks to a bike leasing program called Quincy Bikes. For the commitment of signing a waiver and paying a $10 deposit, I had my pick from a variety of different bikes from road bikes to mountain bikes to hybrids.
Once the bike situation was taken care of, the next step was to find a cause. That problem sort of worked itself out. The night before the revelation to ride, a friend and I were discussing over the phone our past affinity for a gangster rapper named Trick Daddy. Later that evening, I Googled Trick Daddy to see if Trick still loved the kids, and I found out that the beloved Trick Daddy had been diagnosed with Lupus. This is how the bike ride became a Trick Daddy Lupus Awareness ride.
As I geared up to ride, I put on my faded, pink shirt with a stretched out collar. This shirt had not seen the light of day since probably high school, but it was a laundry day. I recruited my friend Brian to join me on my bike ride for a cause, and he too showed up wearing a bright pink shirt. This is how the ride became Breast Cancer Awareness/ Trick Daddy has Lupus Awareness ride.
Now that the logistics were down, it was time for serious riding. I had often heard of and seen pictures of an old bridge outside of town, so we got directions from a friend and hit the road. I selected a hybrid bike that I named Grenadine and instantly fell in love. She handled hills exceptionally well and had quality breaks, making for a great ride.
Brian, on the other hand, had the only criteria of a comfortable seat and selected a Cruiser. This situation is a Goofus and Gallant Comic. While Brian might have been comfortable in the money maker, he struggled and paid dearly on every hill, on a bike built for sashaying around a beach with a picnic basket. Despite the struggle, Brian endured.
The ride started at Quincy University and headed south on 24th Street. I was feeling invincible. It was a beautiful sunny day, about 85 degrees, and problems did not exist. We pressed on all the way down 24th street down a gigantic hill and turned left to Marblehead. I was so determined to see this bridge at a place called Fall Creek. When we caught up at Marblehead, Brian tried to get me to settle for their bridge, but I knew I would be cheating myself if I settled for anything in Marblehead.
The ride continued until we finally reached our destination on a road toward Payson. The bridge was awesome, my shirt was soaked, and it was one of the few times I felt I had earned the trail mix. After heading back, we measured our distance. It was exactly 29.7 miles (expletive, we didn’t hit 30 miles).
The next bike ride will be taking place soon, and we will get 30 miles this time. If anyone would like to join, just e-mail me. If you do not have a bike, you can get hooked up through Quincy Bikes and pick up a bike at America’s Best Value Inn, The Salvation Army or contact Madison-Davis Bicycle shop to find out alternative locations. I would also appreciate suggestions for the next worthy cause of the bike ride.