Wisconsin Sucks

It has gotten so cold here in the past couple days. In fact, it snowed yesterday. I was mortified. However, based on principle, we are refusing to turn on our heat until after Halloween. So I sleep in layers, and right now I am wearing gloves while I type. Which would be hard enough without the puppy who has never seen gloves before and thinks they are a new toy for him to attack. Writing this paper tonight is going to be virtually impossible.

Mildridiots, Volume 5

To be honest, I could do a hundred more Mildridiots, all devoted to awful things Morgan does. Every day when she comes into work, she asks me things like, "Did you prep roast beef?" and, "Did you slice tomatoes?" She apparently thinks she's my boss. I always respond with, "Yes, that's my job," extra sarcastically.

She also scolded a customer last Saturday. The customers always place their order at the counter, sit down while we make it, and then we call them up to grab their plates and pay. But she has decided to turn everything on its head and make them pay when they order, which causes a ton of confusion, since some of these people have been doing it the normal way for the past 30 years. So a customer came in, placed his order, and then walked to a table and sat down, like he's done for years and years. When the sandwich was done, she called him up, and said, "Okay, now you have to pay. You should have paid earlier, but you just walked away from me. I was like, 'What the hell?' " Yes, she did say all of that to a customer. A customer who knows how this place operates much better than she does.

Anyway, let's meet some new people:

Paranoid ATM User
The first customer on Sunday, this guy called in his order and came in to pay with a credit card. I apologized and told him that we don't accept cards, but we do have an ATM. He looked like I had crushed his soul. I've never seen anyone that devastated about using an ATM. After thinking it over for a solid minute of awkward silence, he decided to withdraw the money. Upon entering his card and his information, the ATM told him that he would incur a $1.75 surcharge. At this, he went from crushed to irate.

"What is this? Are you trying to fleece me?!" he demanded. "No, we don't take the surcharge for ourselves," I assured him, but my words fell on unforgiving ears. The damage was done. I received not a single cent tip for his large order. Jackass. He also tried to tell me that we used to take credit cards, and when I told him that we never have, he told me I was wrong. He was exactly the kind of person I wanted to see first thing in the morning after waking up to a shit waterfall outside my room.

Courtney
Since I introduced you to Morgan, I figured I should also tell you about some of the other coworkers. Courtney is in her early-to-mid-twenties, with many piercings, crazy-colored hair, and is currently going back to college for the third time in her life. She moved out of her parents' house when she was a teenager, and has been working for $6.50 ever since. She enjoys drinking, doing the occasional drugs, and not working.

She frequently calls in "sick," but then admits under further questioning that she is either too drunk to come in (at 4 PM), or she hasn't slept yet because she was up all night drinking. At first, this was annoying, but now I've gotten used to just saying, "No," when I don't want to come in. And it's actually kind of nice to have so many options for extra work if I ever want some more money. Plus she's always up for a switch in schedules if I want to go somewhere for the weekend.

On Saturday she told me that her dog, Spaz, might be put down. Apparently he has bitten about 13 people, and one guy finally complained. Now, Spaz is this goofy little pug, whose bites are more like nips and honestly can't hurt anyone. So the guy who is calling Animal Services and DEMANDING that they kill this adorable pug is pretty insane. But Courtney also needs to get her dog under control. As she said herself: "He bites me and Noah [her boyfriend] all the time, and he's broken the skin twice. But we're always like, 'You're so cute!' " And then she instantly went into how ridiculous the guy was being. She's utterly incapable of seeing how some people may not find getting bit by a dog is cute.

So she's a mess.

There's Nothing Like Waking Up To Your Roommate's Shit Raining On You

This weekend was nothing like I described in my last post. It was so, so much worse.

First, my cousin ended up not coming. He was going to be in town for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament, but when I called him on Friday, he said he had been demoted to the B-Team for missing two games, so he was being sent to Nebraska instead of Wisconsin (what a brutal punishment, huh?). When I talked to him, he was in the car with his two roommates, drinking, while his little brother drove them to Nebraska. And they were all listening to Fergie. So it seems like he at least was having a good weekend.

Last night, nothing notable happened at the trailer trash party. They were all rather well-behaved, and my friends and I actually stayed upstairs most of the night to watch Sarah Palin on SNL (how great was that episode compared to most others?!). Everything exciting happened after the party.

We left to get some pizza at around 12:30, and when we returned at 1:30, the party was already over. But we could hear some loud moaning coming throughout the entire house. "YES! YES! KEEP COMING!" my roommate's trashy girlfriend shouted. Upon further investigation, we realized that they were not upstairs in his bedroom - they were having sex in the basement on the nasty, mildewy couch that we found down there when we moved in!

So they finished up while I was taking Bark Antony outside. The roommate's girlfriend (they're Jessie and Steve, for future reference... hopefully they don't read this) stumbled outside and said to me - keep in mind she had just finished having sex with her boyfriend not two minutes prior - "God, you're sexy. If only I was single."

"Yep," I responded. "Magic would surely happen."

Eventually I got Antony back inside and into his crate to go to sleep, and as I climbed into bed, I heard a familiar sound 'round these parts - "GO TO FUCKING HELL, YOU BITCH!"

Yes, Jessie and Steve were having their weekly epic fight. Last week, the fight was so bad that the neighbor's called a domestic violence report to the police, and they showed up pounding on our door at 4 AM. This week, no such luck, but the fight was pretty much as intense as last week.

No one ever knows what they fight over, but it sounded like she was slapping him and he was asking what he did to deserve getting slapped and alternating between screaming, "I FUCKING LOVE YOU!" and "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Finally, they quieted down and I drifted off to sleep, already pissed at how late I had been forced to stay up when I just wanted to get a decent amount of sleep before work in the morning.

Around 3 AM, I woke up to the sound of a veritable waterfall outside my room. My instant assumption was that someone was either puking or peeing in the hallway, so I got up to investigate.

First, let me explain that earlier in the day (seriously, around, like, noon), our roommate Jon had clogged the toilet upstairs, and then had tried to fix it, which resulted in the toilet filling to the brim with water so it could no longer be plunged without overflowing. So what did he do? JUST LEFT IT. Didn't try to get the water down, didn't call maintenance, NOTHING.

Well, someone must have flushed it during the night, because brown water was pouring out of the ceiling down onto our floor. I raced upstairs to see what was happening, and discovered the worst sight ever: a two-inch deep puddle on the floor of the upstairs bathroom and hallway, with hundreds of little pieces of shit floating in it.

And it had soaked through the floor and was raining down on me. An artist's rendition:


Unbelievably irate, I grabbed a piece of Tupperware from upstairs, threw it under the stream of shit water, and went back to bed. When I woke up, the shit had dried, but Steve was brushing his teeth down in our bathroom (understandably), and he was even more pissed than I was (again, understandably, since his room had been invaded by a widening lake of shit in the night).

So... I'm going to enjoy these five hours at Mildred's and just hope all the problems at home are solved and/or everyone is dead when I get back.

College!

Pictures of My Dog and The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 9 and 10!

Wow. Almost a week since my last post. I apologize. I haven't even been doing that much. Although I was supposed to finish reading Invisible Man by today for a class, so I've been frantically plowing through that for the past week when I realized that it is impossibly long. I almost made it, too - only 50 pages short! Is that an excuse enough for you?

Anyway, let's do this bullshit that no one looks forward to:

This astronaut was possessed by an... alien ghost,
I think? And it sometimes made his face into the
"face" carved into the surface of the moon.

I wasn't joking about the alien ghost.

And then in the next episode, an invisible alien
(notice how their aliens are never fully visible, to
save money?) REALLY wanted to take this guy
on his spaceship.

I assume the aliens wanted to study grunge fashion.

Also, I have a new article! It's my review of "Towelhead." Not an interesting read, really, but good movies never make for exciting reviews.

I feel like all I do on this blog anymore is plug my reviews and post lame X-Files pictures. So here's what's going on in my life this weekend: my cousin is coming to visit, so I'll try to show him a good time around Madison and I'll try to document it for your viewing pleasure. And my roommate's white trash girlfriend is hosting a party at our house for some reason. (I'm not joking about the white trash thing. Although she assured me that she doesn't want the party to "get ghetto," but all of her friends are "super preppy" because their dads own roller coasters.) I will try to remember to keep my camera on hand at all times, because something awesome has to happen when you mix 20 trailer park girls and a bunch of cheap beer.

And, to make sure I haven't totally wasted your time, here are some pictures of Bark Antony:

I thought his ears were going to stand straight
up, but for the past month only his left
ear has stood up, making him look pretty
stupid most of the time.

Antony and his BFF Apollo taking over my
favorite chair.

Sleeping with one ear up and his tongue
sticking out. How embarrassing.

In Which The Sarah Silverman Article Goes to Print, And They Fuck It Up

My two latest articles for the Cardinal are a review of Beverly Hills Chihuahua and my interview with Sarah Silverman. For once, they didn't edit a single word I wrote in the interview story, but they did censor her quite a bit. They cut a couple shit jokes and a joke about Osama bin Laden, which is weird because there's enough stuff left in there to offend anyone as it is.

But what's even weirder is that they didn't promote it at ALL. You'd think if we got to interview a big name like her, we'd make a big deal about it, but they didn't even include a picture of her, let alone promote the interview on the front page to let you know that it was in there.

Our rivals, the Badger Herald, published their story a day after ours, but even though the writer - in my opinion, at least - isn't as good as I am (sorry, whoever you are), they gave him the royal treatment: pictures, promotion, and a damn good headline.

My headline when it was published was "Sarah Silverman Talks About Season Premier" or whatever. My headline that I submitted with the article was "Sarah Silverman Talks Show, Politics, and Pubes". Guess what the headline for the Badger Herald article was? "Sarah Silverman Talks Obama, Osama, and Pubes".

WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A HEADLINE WITH PUBES?

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 7 and 8!

Episode 7 was lame. A computer was attacking people. The only thing I liked about it is that it proved my point that Eagle Eye was nothing new.

Episode 8, however, kicked ass. It was such a great little horror movie condensed into a 43-minute episode.

Basically, some dudes were up in the Arctic, drilling for ice samples, but they happened to be doing it above a meteor crater. So alien worms got into their brains and made them kill everyone at the research lab.

The episode was really well done, especially in showing the growing paranoia of the crew sent up to investigate (headed by Mulder and Scully, obviously, but also made up of Felicity Huffman and Bania from "Seinfeld"). Definitely their best episode yet.

Here are some crazy pictures:

So first this dude had these weird black things
in his armpit, and I was like, "Shit, he's fucked."

Then they looked through a microscope
at some blood and the alien just looked like
sperm with spikes.

But then the pilot tried to kill them all, so
they obviously held him down and ripped
a worm out of the back of his brain.

This is the worm. It was really fake-looking.

And then, to close out the episode,
Felicity Huffman got naked and Scully felt her
tits. Seriously.

The X-Files Best Moments, Episode 6!

I have to admit, this episode bored the shit out of me at first. Boring ghost story, blah blah blah, he's in love with this woman and is protecting her even after he's dead.

But then crazy Exorcist shit started happening, and it suddenly became the strongest episode yet.

I mean, first, Mulder and Scully were reviewing surveillance footage, when they noticed something strange:

So they enhanced the quality, and what did they discover?

A CREEPY GHOST SMIRKING AT THEM.

Shit only got weirder from here. First, the woman's bath filled with blood (noticeably coming from the two holes drilled in the sides of the tub):


Then, Mulder came into her house and discovered a floating dude, who was currently having his throat crushed by the ghost.

Ultimately it was another (sort of) happy ending, but I didn't care about the resolution, because so many crazy ghost shenanigans had gone on that I was already thrilled with the episode. Hopefully there are more like this the closer we get to Halloween.

Now That It's Cold, This Is What I'm Wearing

Here's the back of it:

(Made with the help of Cafepress).

Mildridiots, Volume 4

This is a very special volume of Mildridiots. You see, my roommate recently quit for another job, so our latest Mildridiot is the newest employee!

Her name is Morgan, and she is a bitch.

Let me provide some examples. First, I should preface it by saying that she lives in the apartment above the store that Nels rents out. (The only reason this restaurant hasn't gone out of business in the past 30 years is because he owns the entire building and rents out the top floors, so they pay for our lack of customers.)

On Thursday, it was Bodnar's last day, so I accompanied him for what was sure to become a sob-fest as he closed down Mildred's for the last time. (I also accompanied him for the free food, of course.) We drove his car, and as we were parking in Mildred's lone parking spot, we accidentally ran over a dead, rotting log.

The second he got out of the car, Morgan was out on her balcony, and she instantly said, "Are you going to pick that up?" while pointing at the dead log that was smashed to bits.

"Uh... what?" he asked. Keep in mind during this that Morgan had no idea whether or not we were employees. For all she knew, we could have been customers she was chewing out.

"That log there. That was a really nice thing that Nels had." What the hell? That dead log was really nice? In the six months that I have worked here, I have never once seen Nels go out back to take care of his log (sexual innuendo definitely not intended).

Naturally, my roommate got pissed that she was trying to insinuate that she knows Nels better than us, or even that she had the balls to say anything about this stupid log at all. "Oh, really? So you know Nels, like, really, really well, then?" he snapped. Frankly, she deserved such a sarcastic onslaught. She tried to respond, but he just stormed inside before she could even say anything.

So of course I was looking forward to Saturday, when I would be training her. I didn't think she'd have the cojones to mention the incident to me, but OF COURSE she did. Within the first ten minutes, she said, "I'm so glad it's you here and not your idiot roommate." Did she really just come in to train with me and in the first ten minutes call my best friend an idiot? I just brushed it off with a, "Yeah, he's really awesome," and moved on.

I also was able to more or less ignore her terrible customer service, such as saying, "Right on, dude, you've got the perfect amount of change! $4.20!" to this elderly guy who had no idea what her stupid stoner joke meant. I also ignored the fact that it took her over 10 minutes to make two Leadbedders, our most basic sandwich. I know it's her first day, but it's not like it's her first day on Earth. A baby could have figured out which side of the bread to put the mayo on faster than she did (seriously, she asked what side the mayo goes on, to which I responded, "THE INSIDE"). Although, I did make it up to the customer by sneaking a free cookie in her bag with a note attached to it that said, "Sorry about the wait!"

But I could no longer ignore her when she started telling me how to do my job. First, she wouldn't let me reuse a piece of wax paper that had touched a different slice of bread. Then, when I was showing her how to slice an onion, she virtually demanded that I throw away segments of the onion that were either too thin or too thick. Nels would have gone insane had he been there - he throws literally NOTHING away. He has an entire jar of dead seeds (which he already got his money back for, because they were dead when he bought them) that has sat on the shelf for several years. Keep in mind these are dead, completely useless seeds that he essentially got for free. And he can't bear to throw them out.

So I said, "No, we don't throw anything out here unless it is totally useless. Nels would have your head." But she decided to ARGUE with the guy training her! "Oh, come on, man. Just get rid of them."

Naturally, I yelled at her. "Okay, listen. I'm training you. Not the other way around. Don't tell me how to do my job."

That shut her up for a while, but she made a few more passive-aggressive comments about how I apparently don't know how to work here.

Joke's on her, though. The next day, she had to work 6 hours alone after my morning shift, so I under-prepped and left her stranded on her second day, alone and without any cheddar, cucumbers, or tomatoes. I plan on doing this every Sunday for the next few weeks. HA! How's that for passive-aggressive, bitch?

My White Roommates Learning Dance Moves From MTV2

Last night, we discovered our On Demand system contains how-to videos from MTV2 that teach all the hottest dance moves kids are doing these days. My awkward, white, nerdy roommates decided to learn a couple.

First up, the Biz Markie. Fairly basic, and I think he nailed it pretty well. Ignore the dog fight in the background.



Next they attempt to master something called "Jookin' It," which was taught by some group from America's Best Dance Crew. This one is much more difficult, which means the result is all the more hilarious. (Important note for animal lovers: he isn't seriously that mean to his dog. He was joking. This is much more important than dogs.)

Man, I just watched the video and my commentary is retarded. Ignore it.


And now, the entire routine comes together. Watch my roommates totally serve each other.


This was a stupid post. I apologize.

An Afternoon With Sarah Silverman

Actually, just a conference call.

That's right, I interviewed Sarah Silverman for the past hour for an article I am writing about the newest season of the "Sarah Silverman Program."

She was hilarious and really nice - other than the time when she called us all "fucking fat" - and made it a much more enjoyable interview than Michael Chiklis (not that he was mean or terrible or anything, he just didn't tell as many jokes about shit).

But she wasn't the star of the show. Oh, no, not by a longshot. This MORON decided that rather than doing some in-depth reporting or asking a question that would help him write his story, he would spend his one question sucking up to her. This is how he decided to play things:

Idiot: Hey, Sarah. I'm Jewish, too, so, you know, we have that special bond.

Sarah: Uh... Great!

Idiot: My question is, um, what question should a reporter ask to convince you that he should write on your show? (Ed. note: HE SERIOUSLY FUCKING ASKED THAT.)

I don't remember what Sarah said in response, because I was seething with rage that this moron was making us all look like retards.

Also, the first three questions were about her "Great Schlep" viral video, and about Obama. Seriously?! That's what you're going to all ask her about when she's here to talk about her new show? She actually said, "I feel like I should be plugging my show, not talking about this."

Oh, and some starstruck girl asked her what celebrities she has met.

I went last again (seems it'll be that way every time, because there aren't many schools that come after "Wisconsin - Madison"), and we had gone about 10 minutes over the designated time. So here is how my glorious interview went:

Moderator Jill: Alright, our last question is from Danny.

Me: Hey, Sarah.

Sarah: Hey, D--

Jenny from Comedy Central: Sarah, we're out of time!

Sarah: Is that Jenny? Hi Jenny!

Jenny: Hi Sarah! How are you?

Sarah: I'm well!

I was dumbstruck. Luckily Sarah is awesome and intervened and said she could take one last question. But that totally threw me off. Of COURSE I'm the one to get cut off. I bet the asshole from the Badger Herald (our rival newspaper) was giggling to himself. But I think we all know who asked the better question. I asked her, "Do you have any plans to release another CD or movie like Jesus Is Magic?" because, frankly, I've been dying for a Sarah Silverman stand-up CD. The Badger Herald asked, "You are very good at getting your audience to respond with awkward, uncomfortable silence. Do you try for that reaction?" Her answer: "No."

I definitely won in this interview.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 4 and 5!

Let's face it, nothing exciting happened in these two episodes. Let's just get it over with.

This stupid kid wanted to go see some aliens.

That second picture is what the aliens did to a bartender's ear. Actually, that was pretty damn awesome. I mean, look at that thing!

In the next episode, Mulder pretty much fell in love with some Neanderthal woman living in the New Jersey woods. This was a waste of an episode except for two hilarious things. One, the police sketch of the Neanderthal:

She's got some sweet, sweet titties.

But even better than that was getting to see what Scully apparently wears on dates:
That ridiculous lacy wedding dress with shoulder pads is an AWESOME choice for a first date.

In other Halloween news, I have decided what I am going to be this year. Green Man from "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"! I ordered the suit today (don't even ask how much I spent on this ridiculous purchase).

Don't know who I'm talking about? Enjoy this clip from last week's episode, in which Green Man made a glorious reappearance (also take note of Kaitlin Olson's brilliant performance). Unfortunately the FX website doesn't allow me to embed the video here for your enjoyment. Laaaame.

The costume is part of a group, believe it or not. No one is going to understand our theme without it being explained, but whatever. My roommate Bodnar will be going as Dexter, and my roommate Jon will be going as Don Draper. Our theme is obviously "Our Favorite Characters From Minor Cable Networks".

I Am Sick of "Eagle Eye"

Here's my article from my interviews with DJ Caruso and Michael Chiklis.

I also had to go see the movie yesterday, and now I'm writing the review. WHEN WILL I BE DONE WITH THIS MOVIE?! But seriously, it wasn't terrible. Kind of a stupid plot, but still very entertaining.

Oh, and I'm interviewing Sarah Silverman on Thursday. These are my current thoughts: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG.

MOVIE REVIEW: "This Movie Sucks"

Once again, the subject line was my original title for my movie review this week.

I was forced to go see "My Best Friend's Girl," which was incredibly terrible. Way too bad to even laugh at, let alone with.

So my review can be found at The Daily Cardinal's website. The headline in the online version makes no sense - they made a typo and it should read "Dane Cook Can't Score With blah blah blah" instead of whatever nonsense sentence it currently reads. Just so you don't think I'm retarded.

This was actually my second article in today's paper. The first was from my interview with Chiklis. Unfortunately for you, it's not online yet for some reason. When you click on it, all there is is an error message.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episode 3!

Finally we get a fairly creepy episode!

This third episode started with some dude walking down the street with a scary pair of eyes glaring at him from a sewer grate.


Seriously, it was much creepier to see than it sounds.

After that, it was all sort of downhill, which is surprising, considering the villain this week could squeeze into tight spaces, was over 100 years old, hibernated for 30 years at a time in a nest made out of human bile, and murdered people by ripping their livers out.

But, I don't know, once you got to see the guy and he was revealed to be just some dude wearing yellow contacts, it wasn't that scary. Look how pathetic he looks:


But the eyes in the beginning? Totally eerie.

Tomorrow I'll post my two articles from the Daily Cardinal. That's right: two! One is the story I did from the interviews with DJ Caruso and Michael Chiklis about Eagle Eye, and the other is a review I did of My Best Friend's Girl, which was a despicable movie and therefore a really fun review to write.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The Return of the Halloween Superstore

Earlier today, Bodnar and I took a trip to our local Petsmart (I'm still confused - is it Pet's Mart or Pet Smart?) to get our respective puppies some more food and also to engrave a kickass dog tag for little Bark Antony (his name is written BARCVS ANTONIVS, so if he's lost there's no way anyone is going to call me and try to tell me they found my dog). But before we even got to the Petsmart, what did we see had sprung up next door the way it does every year like that house the Order of the Phoenix hides out in?

A HALLOWEEN SUPERSTORE.

I'm sure you all are familiar with these magnificent oases, which vary in size from a truck in some dude's driveway to this one, which had filled a whole fucking warehouse.

Just LOOK AT THIS:


So beautiful. So filled with overpriced plastic severed hands.

I obviously couldn't let this momentous occasion go by without a purchase. At first, I almost bought these:


But that was more based on their name. I mean, based solely off of their appearance, you would never guess what they were, seeing as they appear to be neither ultimate nor boobs.

Eventually I decided on two things. One is something that I have wanted for well over a decade, ever since I first saw A Nightmare on Elm Street. And the other just seemed too hilarious to not buy, and I'm sure I'll get some good use out of it in the future.

BEHOLD!

Madison Hippies Accuse Me Of Being A Sex Offender

The subject basically says it all. Two hippies just showed up at my door and asked me if I am or if I live with a sex offender who was previously listed at this address. They are prowling the streets with a list of sex offenders in the area. I don't know what they would have done if I was the guy they were looking for. Are they just trying to intimidate these guys into leaving their neighborhood? It's not like I'm going off in support of sex offenders, but come on ladies, let's tone down the crazy a little bit.

Mildridiots, Volume 3

Only 45 minutes into my shift, and we've already got two more Mildridiots! One was a regular that I forgot about on the first volume in this series, and the other is a brand new jackass.

New York Bastard
I've never seen this guy before, but there was something about him that just screamed "New York City". Maybe it was his classic "NEW YORK CITY" shirt, or maybe not. But he marched up to the counter and announced, "I NEED A BLYSTONE," which is one of our more popular sandwiches. So I made that and called him up to the counter to come get it, at which point he looked at our beer selection (a rather impressive array of Wisconsin microbrews, if I may say so), and sneered, much like a cartoon villain. "Is this all the beer you have?" Obviously it is, but I just said, "Yep," and then quickly added a quiet, "Sorry," after receiving a lengthy glare from him. I'm not sure what I did that needed an apology, but the way he was looking at me made me feel like the lowest scum on Earth. "Oh, come on. I know you have a Maibock back in that fridge," he said, completely serious and more than a little pissed off. "Uh... no. I can promise you we have no hidden beers." Eventually, he settled on a Berghoff, but he was NOT HAPPY about it.

Later, when he was on his way out the door, I cheerily shouted after him, "Thanks! Have a great night!" at which point he stopped in his tracks, turned around and STARED at me for a good minute in the doorway. Reeeeeally awkward. He makes me feel like I'm doing everything completely wrong and hopefully he goes back to NEW YORK CITY.

Potato Salad Freak
Oh, god, this woman is obnoxious. Every Monday - when our potato salad for the week is typically made - she marches in and demands to know just what temperature the potato salad is at. And every week I assure her that it's been in the fridge for at least a few hours and is therefore quite suitable to her tastes (although it just dawned on me that she may, in fact, be the Ice Queen, which is why nothing is ever cold enough for her). Today she went through the same routine, but I was able to proudly announce that it was a slow weekend, so the potato salad from last week is still left over and since it's been in the fridge for a few days, it is most definitely cold enough. "It wasn't a slow weekend. I came in," she sulked, for some reason insulted by me thinking a weekend in which she makes an appearance in my life should ever be deemed "slow".

She also left pissed off for no good reason. And now someone else is here. Let's see if I can go three for three!

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: X-Files Best Moments, Episode 2!

I had some free time on my hands at work, so I was able to pump out the second episode of the X-Files, which, let's face it, wasn't nearly as exciting or scary as the first.

This was the second grossest thing in the episode:


And the grossest?

Seth Green cameo!

Anyway, last night we made $304 at our hat party. I wore my crab hat from Japan, and it was a roaring success. Some random guy pulled me to the side and gave me a 10-minute lecture on how if I couldn't get laid wearing that hat, then none of the guys had a chance. I also heard the joke, "Do you have crabs??!!" about a thousand times. It was nice, because it reminded me why I'm so anxious to get out of college.

Also, today I bought the US History Major Cheater's T-Shirt:
And yes, my muscles are that big.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS: X-Files Pilot Best Moments!

As I mentioned earlier, to celebrate that most wonderful of (mostly) American holidays, Halloween, I will be watching the X-Files (for the first time ever!) and posting the best moments from each episode. I plan on there being tons of fucked up shit to post about, so let's just get right into the pilot.

To catch you up to speed, a whole bunch of kids in Oregon were dying after going into the woods, and they were all found with two small bumps on their lower backs. Obviously aliens, right? This is just a no-brainer.

So Mulder and Scully dig up the body of one of the victims, and when the coffin is opened, what do they find?


MUMMY ALIEN MUTANT CHILD.

Seriously, what the fuck is that thing? This was such a great way to start out the series, and there's no WAY the show was not going to be picked up for more episodes after something as insane as this.

Oh, and then there was this, too:

In Which I Do My Brotherly Duty and Help My Little Sister Through Her First Night of College

A Facebook message exchange between myself and my little sister, who is spending her first night in college and not having such a great time:

Sara: The only friend I've made so far is hideously deformed.

Me: How so? Genetically or just as the result of a fire? And was the fire her fault or was it someone else's? These are important questions in establishing a sense of her character.

Sara: cleft lip.
I'm a very, very horrible person.

Me: Oh, god. She sounds awful. How's the roommate?

Sara: Not here yet. She comes on Saturday. The only people I have so much as seen on my floor so far are me and Kathryn. It's this dark, scary hallway that looks like a prison and I hear the ominous jingling of keys and footsteps but I never see anyone.
WHERE AM I?


Me: With the cleft lip girl it sounds like some sort of freak prison. Like an old man shoves you in his briefcase and inside is your dorm, where these people have been trapped for centuries.

Sara: you made me "l.o.l." which I can't do because I'm pretending to sleep so that my new, deformed friend doesn't come ask to play!

Me: "Do you want to meet my pets?" and then you go into her room and there are just hundreds of slugs.


Sara: oh god! I was laughing and there were footsteps outside and they slowed so I faked snored and they kept moving. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO DO THIS FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR?!?

Me: Why is she prowling?!

Sara: I don't know! She keeps walking to the bathroom, going in, running the water a little, and walking out. Maybe she doesn't have a shower caddy and so she carries in her toothbrush, wets it, goes back to her room, puts on the toothpaste, walks back, etc., etc.
Or maybe she smells that I'm awake.

Me: I got really grossed out picturing her brushing her teeth.

Sara: She probably has to use prongs to lift the left side.

Me: I'm going to barf.

But seriously, you're probably going to hate it and feel awkward and alone for a while because that's what college does to you. It makes you feel retarded and useless. Just go with it and eventually you'll meet your future best friends. And don't forget that my phone is always with me if you want to call or text or facebook message me. But since it's like 2:30 here, I need to go to bed. Call me if cleft lip is clawing down your door.

Good night and just make the best of it until it actually becomes fun instead of just funny.

Sara: Right now I definitely feel awkward and alone, mainly because I am completely and totally alone on my floor, except for a sideshow act. I have a feeling once people actually move in, it will be a lot better. Also, once I get a fridge.

Thank you Danny. You're a much better brother than that one of Kallie's that's in a cult in Iowa.


I think I actually helped. I'm not a useless older brother after all!

On a totally unrelated note, I'm getting very excited about Halloween. I missed out on all the main holiday season (mid-October to mid-January, obviously) last year, since Cairo is where holidays and joy go to DIE, so I'm planning on being totally over-the-top this year. As in buying and wearing a whole bunch of cheesy Christmas sweaters for the month of December.

For Halloween, I'm mostly starting my celebrations by eating a ton of candy and watching a lot of scary shit. I've never seen an episode of the X-Files before (not counting one episode back when I was a kid that freaked the SHIT out of me to the point where I've forced it entirely out of my memory), so I got the first season from Netflix. To get my blog in the holiday spirit, I think I'll be posting my favorite moments from each episode that I watch. The first episode should be up tomorrow or Saturday, hopefully (we're having a party Friday night and I have to go see My Best Friend's Girl tomorrow for The Daily Cardinal - UGH - so I might be too busy to do anything until Saturday), but rest assured, my favorite moment from the episode WILL be up soon.

I don't have enough time to do a full recap of each episode, much as I would love to, but hopefully this should satisfy you enough. If my small amount of Halloween fever isn't enough for you holiday maniacs out there, check out X-Entertainment, the best website of all time for nostalgia - especially around this glorious, three-month-long holiday season.

I don't know exactly what else I'll be doing as all these wonderful holiday seasons combine into a crazy monster holiday hybrid of commercialism and memories, but one thing I know for sure is that I will be documenting the Jones Soda Holiday Pack - a family tradition. That should happen around Thanksgiving, though, so that's way in the future. Any suggestions for more holiday fun would be welcome.

(I only wrote this post this late at night to try to distract my mind from scary aliens and other things that the X-Files is making me think about. But now that I ended the post with this little tidbit, they're still all I'm thinking about and all of this was worthless. I'm such a little baby. I'm going to be up for a while.)

Mildridiots, Volume 2

A guy just came in and tried to sell me pepper spray.

That is all.

IT'S INTERVIEWIN' TIME!

Well, the interview with Billy Bob is over and it went off without a hitch. Know why? Because I didn't get to speak to him!

That's right, Paramount fucked us over. Late last night, they contacted my editor and informed him that since our circulation size isn't large enough, we were being demoted to interviewing Michael Chiklis. Which, let's face it, is much cooler than interviewing Billy Bob. So I was pretty thrilled about speaking to him, but also a bit panicked, since I had prepared all my questions for Billy Bob, I only got notice 12 hours before the interview, and I was notified at a party while I was drunk.

So I woke up and went into Mildred's and did a bunch of Mildred's bullshit (it was crazy busy for some reason, even though it's been pouring for the last 24 hours). At 1:35, I went out to my roommate's car in the parking lot behind Mildred's, and dialed the conference call number and entered my code. DJ Caruso, the director of Eagle Eye, was doing the first round of interviews (all the community college reporters were stuck with him), but the e-mail that gave me the code for the conference call said that it was MANDATORY (bold, capitals, and italics theirs) to stay on the line for all three interviews, because if you leave early or enter late, you'll disrupt everyone. So I sat while they all interviewed DJ Caruso, who was whatever. Then I was cut off and had to dial back in for Chiklis. So clearly it wasn't mandatory.

But I did it and sat through roll call (which consisted of the Paramount girl saying, "Who's here?" and then all of the rabid journalism students jumping all over each other to announce their name and school - my recording of the interview has me saying, "Dann-" every once in a while, only to be cut off by some crazy girl from Bryn Mawr), and then we waited in awkward silence for 15 minutes, because Chiklis was late. He makes his own schedule or else it's CLOBBERIN' TIME! (I couldn't resist.)

Finally he showed up, and right as the Paramount girl announced, "Michael Chiklis is here!" some old woman knocked on the car door. Fucking great. I opened the door to see what was going on, and she said, "I'm visiting apartment 5 and I think you're in my parking spot." Just so you know, I was parked next to two totally open parking spaces. But she needed MINE.

"Uh... I'm on a conference call right now, sorry," I tried. But she wasn't having any of my crap. "Just move your car so I can park here." What? What the hell is going on?

Totally confused - and mortified at the thought of this conversation carrying through the phone into Chiklis's ears - I tried one more plea: "I'm on the phone with Michael Chiklis. From 'The Shield'," I whispered, covering the mouthpiece with my hand.

Clearly not a fan of FX corrupt cop dramas, she just repeated, "Please move your car." At this point, I just wanted her to leave, because Chiklis was already starting to greet us, so I gave in to her demands and started the car.

"LIVIN' ON A PRAAAAYYYEEERR!" the radio BLASTED. My roommate had apparently been rocking out on the drive to Mildred's to our local classic rock station at full volume. Chiklis definitely heard that. Not only was I pumping insanely loud music to all of the journalists and people at Paramount and fucking Michael Chiklis, but I was pumping insanely loud Bon Jovi. Could this situation get any more embarrassing?

Answer: yes. But not for me.

The first question was from a student at Stanford ("Oh, I've got the dummy crowd, huh?" joked Chiklis), who clearly is Shia LaBeouf's NUMBER ONE FAN. His question? "What was it like working with Shia LaBeouf?" It's important to note that he pronounced "LaBeouf" as "LaBOOF".

Chiklis rattled off some stuff about how dedicated and nice Shia is, and then the "reporter" cut him off and said, "Yeah, he has some sweet roles, you have to admit."

"...What?" said Chiklis.

"Sweet movie roles!"

"Sweet roles? Yeah, I guess..." answered Chiklis, clearly confused.

"I mean, Indiana Jones?!" gushed the fanboy.

At this point, I was trying my hardest to stifle giggles.

After we got the future Mr. LaBOOF off the line, things went pretty smoothly. It was already established in roll call that I would get the final question, and my heart started to race as one by one the other people asked all of the hastily-prepared questions I had just written. I was left with nothing.

"And the last question is from the University of Wisconsin-Madison."

This is all I could come up with on the fly: "Uh... Hi, Michael. You were talking earlier about how hard it is to play a character like the Secretary of Defense, who has so much pressure on his shoulders. What did you do to prepare for a role like that? How did you get into the mind of such a powerful man? Did you, like, follow Donald Rumsfeld around for a day?"

Thankfully, Chiklis laughed. Luckily I was recording the interview, because I have absolutely no idea what his answer was. I was far too busy wiping gallons of sweat off my face. Next thing I knew, he was done talking and there was just awkward silence. "Uh... Thanks, that was great," I said, and he replied with, "Thanks!" END CONVERSATION. Seriously, just like that Paramount cut us all off. So I guess I had the last word with him? No one else even said thank you! It was really strange and I feel like I made a total fool of myself.

I toyed with tuning in for Billy Bob's interview, but I decided to go back into Mildred's and help out, since it was crazy busy and I was still on the clock.

Now my dilemma is I have no idea what to write about. I don't really care about this movie, and Michael Chiklis is in about 5 minutes of it. So somehow I have to find an interesting angle for this story. I have about two weeks to do this, but Jesus Christ.

Oh, and then I closed out the night by coming home and blowing the power for our entire first floor. We will be without electricity down here all weekend.

"Burn After Reading"? More Like "Laugh After Seeing"!

The subject of this post was the original headline for my first article for The Daily Cardinal, one of Madison's two campus newspaper (and apparently the sixth oldest campus newspaper in the nation, which is a huge, HUGE honor). Other than changing that and adding a letter grade to the end of the article, the editors mostly kept it the same (with a few word choice changes that I wouldn't have made, but at least they kept the word "clusterfuck").

So here it is.

Tomorrow I interview Billy Bob Thornton. I have the press release for Eagle Eye, which is apparently a movie that he is in. I had no idea that anyone other than Shia is in it, based off of the previews, but now that I know Billy Bob has a role, I can almost sort of catch his lightning-fast appearance in the trailer. Out of the 55-page press release, Billy Bob garners about 1/2 a page. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to ask him.

Mildridiots, Volume 1

Mildridiots is going to be an ongoing series in which I relate stories about the lunatics that frequent the place where I work, a small sandwich shop named Mildred's.

First, some background: Mildred's has been around for some 40 years, and it has never changed. The menu has been the exact same (except for a brief crazy period a few months ago during which we introduced a new sandwich and then quickly removed it), and some locals have been coming here for 30-plus years.

There are only four employees, not counting the owner, an aging, hilarious hippie by the name of Nels Nelson (seriously). All of us employees work our shifts solo (not counting lunch during weekdays, when Nels sticks around for a few hours to make the soup of the day), and since not many people come in - it's a long, long way from the campus, where Madison's pulse is - most of my shifts consist of me reading, watching movies or TV shows on my laptop, or writing this blog post right now.

For those of you not familiar with Madison, it is for the most part populated entirely by two groups of people: college students, and aging lunatics who grew up during the Vietnam War and have totally warped their minds through the use of various recreational drugs throughout their lifetimes. And since Mildred's is so far away from campus, guess which half of Madison's population we get as customers?

So that's Mildred's. No one fascinating has come in yet today, so I'll just recap some of my all-time favorite (or least favorite, in one particular instance) customers.

Alan From Madison
This guy is definitely my all-time favorite. He hobbled in one day on his crutches ("My friends used to call me Hop-A-Long," he quipped) and ordered a beer. He then sat down and just started telling me all about his life, completely unprovoked. If he is to believed (and, really, there's no way any of this stuff was made up), this is his story:

Alan From Madison (quick history of that name: he told me he's from Michigan, and then ten minutes later when I asked his name, he said, "They call me Alan From Madison." So that was confusing) has been hunting the Dog Man for over 100 years. Who is the Dog Man? Oh, just a werewolf-type dude that's been running around killing people for about a century or so. When I humored Alan From Madison and asked, "Wow. Where does he come from?" I got a simple one-word answer that almost made me laugh out loud: "Hell." He then clarified: "Well, that's what I think. Others think he's the spirit of a dug-up Indian burial ground." So, either way, not good news.

Anyway, we talked for about half an hour, and eventually he left, but not before issuing me a stern warning: "He's been seen around Madison, so don't go out at night, and stay in well-lit areas. And if you see a seven-foot dog man, run." As if I'd walk towards someone like that.

La Croix Guy
Ugh. This guy is the WORST. He is the son of Sophia, an older woman who runs a breakfast-only shop right next door to us. Oh, and he's certifiably insane. He comes in every day and orders a berry La Croix, and then sits down and drinks it for at least three hours. Sometimes he keeps to himself, which wouldn't be that bad except for the fact that I just want him to leave so I can open up my laptop and resume whatever movie I was watching before he came in. Other times, he does crazy shit. Once, he requested that I turn the radio up. REALLY LOUD. I did it but then gradually turned it down a notch until it was back to a reasonable level. Another time, he told my friend he hated the color of his shirt, ran home, and came back in five minutes with a shirt to give him. His best moment, though, was when he crumpled up his can, grabbed a book from our bookshelf, and positioned them oh-so-carefully in the outstretched hands of the random mannequin we have by our ATM. He came back four hours later and retrieved the items.

He also has two children, for some unknown reason. One is a son who looks like he's around thirteen years old, and has to have some form of ADHD or something. He's insane. He pesters me with questions about everything whenever he's here, and La Croix Guy never lets him get any soda because, "If this is what you're like without sugar, imagine what you'll be like if I give you some." Which is by far the sanest and most reasonable thing that guy has ever said. His daughter is a toddler, who likes to grab everything at her level and throw it around the store. The son actually tries to pick up after her, but La Croix Guy sternly says, "NO. Leave it." So that's respectful of him.

He drives me crazy.

Sexy Cerebral Palsy Aide
This girl comes in every Sunday with a man named Jessie who has cerebral palsy. I thought she was his sister, but I have recently learned that she just volunteers to take him out to eat every week. Which makes her even more attractive. They do this thing that I've never seen before, where she has a keyboard printed out on a piece of paper, and he points at the letters on it to spell out words and sentences to communicate with her. It's pretty amazing.

I have sort of a crush on her, but it's kind of an awkward situation and I've never gotten up the nerve to say anything more than, "Anything else with that?" or "$5, please." I would like to use the keyboard thing as my in - say something like, "Wow, I've never seen anything like that before, that's amazing," - but every time I'm about to, I feel like I'm using Jessie or something.

So nothing will ever happen between us, and I'll just admire her from afar.

Oh, and Jessie has another girl who comes with him very, very rarely, and she's a super bitch. Doesn't use the keyboard or anything. Luckily, I know Jessie's order better than she does, so he's able to get what he wants instead of, "Just give him some turkey on wheat bread," like she said to me last time. Seeing her instead of Sexy Cerebral Palsy Aide is a terrible way to end the weekend.


That's all I can think of now. I suppose I should start closing down the store anyway, since no one has come in for the past two hours.

One Step Closer to a Pulitzer

Tomorrow morning, I will be skipping class (and my court date - more on that later) to go to a screening of Burn After Reading. I'll be reviewing it for the Daily Cardinal, one of Madison's two campus newspapers. This is the first thing I've written for them, so I'm pretty excited. Plus I've been dying to see this movie, so getting to see it three days early and for free isn't a bad deal at all.

I'll put up a link to my article when it's published on Friday. I'm supposed to find all the copies of the Cardinal I can and send them to my mom. Because this is THAT important.

I'm also going to rent The Big Lebowski and The Hudsucker Proxy and watch them at work tonight. Partly to get in the mood for another surefire Coen comedy, but mostly just so I can watch movies at work and say that I'm still doing work.

Gotta Get That D-O-E

My roommate Bodnar works with a guy named Jeremiah, who recently revealed to him that he actually raps under the name GOTTO. I'm not positive, but I think it has to be capitalized every time you type it.

Anyway, GOTTO/Jeremiah gave Bodnar his demo and said that if we ever want to have him do a show at one of our house parties, he'd be up for it. We like the concept, because it would certainly draw more people and we could have a cover charge, but it also makes us a bit nervous. I mean, seven nerdy white guys hosting a hardcore rap show? Is that really our scene?

Well, whether or not we host his show (which is particularly tempting based on how hilarious a blog entry it would make for), let me say that I love GOTTO. His website is here, where he has about five songs on the right side of the page for you to enjoy.

One of the best songs is available on the website - Onion Butt. I don't know if you've ever heard the term, but don't let it fool you. I know it sounds like a horribly disgusting and in no way sexy ass disease, but apparantly it refers to a butt that is so beautiful it makes you cry. I don't know, the term still grosses me out. But for those of you who love a good onion butt, GOTTO has written the ode to end all onion butt odes.

The other song I love isn't on his website, but it's called D-O-E and it is mostly him saying, "Gotta get the D-O-E/So my family can E-A-T". First of all, I love that he falls into the lazy rapper category where they just depend heavily on all of those letters that rhyme with each other. But more importantly, he misspells "dough"! Which begs the question: does he just not know how to spell "dough", or is the song really about trying to score a nice piece of venison for his family? I don't know why, but the idea of a rap song dedicated to hunting for venison really makes me laugh.

What do you think? Is GOTTO the best rapper of all time? Should we have him perform at a party?

Chimpanzee That - Monkey News

For the unfortunate few of you who aren't familiar with the Ricky Gervais Show, allow me to give you a brief introduction. It has recently become one of my favorite things of all time, and I really can't remember the last time I laughed at anything this much.

The basic idea is that it is a series of podcasts by Ricky Gervais, his partner Stephen Merchant, and their "bald, round-headed mank twat" producer Karl Pilkington. Every episode is filled with Karl spouting off insane nonsense, most of it having to do with scientific discoveries and inventions he thinks are real but are definitely not. For example, in the first episode he proposes his idea to curb the expansion of the human population - in brief, his solution is that everyone dies when they are 78, and then a little baby that is living inside of them comes out and replaces them in the world. Hearing Karl try to explain why he thinks this is such a brilliant idea to Ricky and Stephen - who can barely keep it together - is worth the price of admission (which is, like, two dollars).

Anyway, you can buy the first three seasons on iTunes, and the fourth and final one will be available starting September 16th. I highly, highly recommend all of them.

Some sample clips from their original (pre-iTunes) series:

If you can't listen to the full 8 minutes (which you probably should), then the really classic Karl bit starts around the 3:15 mark.

Ax 'Em: The Worst Movie To Ever Exist Ever

Back in high school, I started a website in which I would watch and review every single DVD at the local Family Video in alphabetical order. I got through all of the A's and ended on Ax 'Em, which was so unbelievably horrible that I ended the project right then and there. Some of my other reviews are pretty entertaining, and I'm sure I'll move my favorites over here in the near future, but this is by far - in my opinion - my best one, mostly because I'm filled with so much hatred for everyone involved in the production of this movie. So enjoy my extremely long teenage rant, in which I completely destroy Michael "Mfumay" Mfume's dreams.


Ax 'Em (2002)

Tagline: It Was Supposed To Be A Weekend Get-Away Until The Horror Began!

Directed by: Michael "Mfumay" Mfume

Written by: Michael "Mfumay" Mfume

Starring: Michael "Mfumay" Mfume

Whenever I write a review, I feel I'm bringing something to the internet. If I happen to review a movie that no one has done before, I feel confident knowing that if someone, somewhere, stumbles across the movie and thinks, "Am I alone in thinking this is the worst movie ever?" they may find my reviews and know they are not the only one in the universe. That being said, I feel like it's a crime to even acknowledge this movie's existence. I find it hard to believe that I will ever find a movie worse than this. I say that a lot, but this is ridiculous. Whenever I say I'm going to give you a "scene-by-scene" review, I'm lying to you. I usually cut out five or so scenes that I find boring and useless to the plot. But with this, I guarantee you will get the whole thing. Every single second of this movie has to be recorded to the annals of the internet, to spread the gospel of Ax 'Em. Bear with me, please, as we suffer through this together.

Here's how the movie starts out:







In case you cannot read that, or the pictures are not appearing, let me transcribe it for you:

On a cold winter night, in 1990, Mr. Mason, a mean and cruel Towns man, let his job for Home. After arriving home, He took a shotgun And killed his wife and Kids. Then is mean man Killed himself. When the police arrived they only Found the bodies of his wife, Daughter and younger son. His mentally Ill son Harry Was not ever found. Legend has it, he will return In 13 years to revenge his family deaths.

That's the first fucking thing you see in this movie. As we find out later, Mr. Mason and his family were white, while "mentally Ill son" is really just a euphemism for "black son". This movie's breaking down racial barriers, ya'll.

The opening scene gives away a hell of a lot about the movie, other than the plot or what the fuck is going on. What it does reveal, however, is that the movie was shot with a hand-held camera from the 1970's, and not a single microphone was used, other than the one on the camera. Keep in mind this movie was released in 2002, so being forced to use such outdated equipment is not a valid excuse. What I can gather from this scene is a bunch of black people are at a party, and about fifteen of them agree to go to someone's cabin or house for the weekend. This turns out to be an actual plot point later on, so it destroys my theory that someone just turned on a camera and filmed a Christmas party they went to. The scene is constantly fading to black in the middle of sentences and fading back in to about fifteen minutes later, so there's no way to tell what is really going on - if you can hear through all the background noise, that is. Whatever. The scene ends, and the viewers are left cringing, wondering what the fuck could go wrong next.

We then see the house where we can safely assume all the murders mentioned in the error-free introduction occurred. A giant black man with an ax approaches the house, and since we're assuming a lot of things, we'll also assume this is the son whose return was foretold thirteen years ago. The kid certainly has aged in thirteen years. He went from about twelve years old to forty-five. Nonetheless, the camera switches to inside the house. All we see is an empty staircase, which we are left to stare at for about five minutes. Somewhere in the background, however, we can hear someone talking non-stop. Finally, the speaker enters the shot, and we see it is simply an elderly man, rambling incoherently to himself without taking a single breath. He sees his front door is open and manages to squeeze in a, "WHO THE HELL?!" so quickly that it takes the viewer about a minute to realize he shouted that, because he instantly reverts back to his ramblings in the same breath. He closes the door, and goes into the next room, where he loads a gun. Of course, he continues talking. As he is loading the gun, the killer stumbles up to him, and raises his ax. The old man says, "Awwww shit," before continuing to blab on, and he is killed. Or, more accurately, he is pushed into a closet, and the killer kind of taps him lightly with the ax. It's important to note that this is the only character killed with an ax, while the movie title promises at the very least two people will be slaughtered in this way.

Next up, my favorite scene: the opening credits! For some strange reason, Director/Writer/Producer/Star Michael "Mfumay" Mfume decided to put the opening credits over a step show, which - to my uninformed white eyes - appears to be just a lot of choreographed dancing without any music. I'd have no problem with this - in fact, the dances are pretty impressive, since every single person in this scene has more rhythm in their pubic hair than I will ever have in my entire body - except for two small things. One: they choose to make a five-year-old girl dance in a very provocative manner. Meaning she rubs her breasts and gyrates her hips, while her proud mother looks on and screams wildly. At least her family supports her. The second thing is after the credits are over, the scene continues on. For ten minutes. Ten minutes that have NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MOVIE. After the dancing is over, the circle breaks out a series of "yo mamma" jokes. Finally, the scene ends. We learn later that this scene wasn't cut down because Michael Mfume skipped the editing process altogether.








The only possible reason I can think of including a scene such as this in your movie is to weed out the viewers that aren't serious about watching it. When you rent Ax 'Em, you aren't watching your everyday pansy popcorn flick. You have to fucking want to watch it. Luckily, I passed through my ordeal, and I am now a man.

We return to the previously scheduled movie. A group of young people - we'll have time later to possibly learn their names, or at least the names that are audible - are discussing, again, a vacation to someone's cabin. We can assume that these are the same people from the party in the beginning, but it could just be a coincidence. Throughout their conversation, a crew member circles the group. How do I know he's a crew member? Because he's fucking carrying one of those production slates that they clack in front of the camera! The evidence is here:



However, I am impressed by the fact that they actually used those in the making of the movie. But now I'm just depressed, knowing that someone actually spent a decent amount of money on this production. I'm sure I've passed by Michael Mfume on the streets of New York or Chicago and ignored his pleas for money. The group agrees to meet at 2:00 at one of their houses, and they split up to go... I don't know, dance some more.

Next up, we meet Rock and his girlfriend. Rock looks suspiciously like Malcolm X, but that's beside the point. Rock has obviously been cheating on her, because he keeps insisting, "This is the last time." His girlfriend, however, won't have any of that shit. "You say that every weekend, Rock. Every weekend!" she insists. But Rock brings her back to his side with, "Who bought you all this shit?" pointing at her fancy jewelry and denim clothes, so they hug. Ah, young love.

The rap music that will continue throughout the duration of the movie picks up, and the first audible line is, "This here nigga's goin' straight to the top." Anyway, the group meets at someone's house at 2:00 like they were told to do. Up until this point, we've only seen smaller groups of the people who are going on this trip, and it was impossible to tell if the different groups were really different groups or just the same group of people on different days, due to the shitty quality of the tape. So now, we finally get to see the entire cast of potential victims. There are about fifteen people going along on this trip, thereby erasing any possibilities of ever getting to know each character. I mean, when your main cast of actors has to take three cars to drive anywhere, you might have to work on saying no to your friends when they ask if they can be in your movie. Anyway, the young ruffians take off on a wild adventure.

Subtle.

The kids then arrive at the cabin, sparing us from having to sit and watch the entire three-hour drive. I wouldn't put it past Michael Mfume to include a scene like that in this movie. However, there are now only two cars, and when the surviving two pull in, the occupants of the third car simply step out from behind a bush. I don't know, maybe their car broke down and they ran really fast and beat everyone there. No one questions it, so you shouldn't, either. The men immediately start making fun of each other and detailing who should bring what in. "I'M HUNGRY!" shrieks one of the banshee women, so, to punish her for speaking when not spoken to, one of the men runs up, rips her wig off, and runs away. I'm glad they find cancer so amusing. The scene ends with that.

Next up: two of my favorite characters! Aside from the old man in the beginning and a second character that will be introduced later in the movie, these two are the best. This is their one and only scene in the movie, so they make the best of it. Stumbling out of a forest, immediately establishing that they are drunk, they manage to slur some of the only audible dialogue in the movie to the point where it is no longer coherent. If you want to know how high-quality the acting is in this scene, the bigger man is the crew member that was walking around in the background a few scenes ago. However, they manage to get across the point that they saw a "big mothah fuckah musta been ten feet tall" in the forest. The smaller drunk tells the bigger drunk to go kick his goddamn ass, and then they fight over a bottle of malt liquor. "You better back up, you big six-foot-nine mothah fuckah," says the little man. "He's coming," slurs the bigger man, and the two run right out of the movie. As the scene fades, we hear Michael Mfume, loud and clear, shout, "CUT!" Classy guy, that Michael Mfume. This scene's only purpose was to establish that there is a killer loose in the forest, and that he is large, both of which we already know. But it's good to be reminded once in a while.

Back at the cabin, the kids are getting settled in. Mike, played by Michael Mfume himself, says something that I can't hear to one of the women - the largest woman in the place, who looks suspiciously like an ancient Aztec queen - that causes Mike to celebrate with Rock in a high five that will turn the world on its head. Let me try to explain it: it starts out as a normal high five, but instead of simply hitting the palms of the hands together and releasing, you must clasp your hands together and hold. You must then run your free hand through your hair, starting at your forehead and working your way up and over, all the way down to the back of your neck. While doing this, you must then hump the air as fast as possible. Then you are free to release your other hand. Both parties must be willing to partake in the hair-rubbing and pelvic thrusting, or it doesn't work. Apparently, the scene is dedicated to this one high-five, because it ends immediately after.

Mike and his girlfriend - we'll call her Nikki, because one of the characters is named Nikki, I just don't know which one - are taking a lovely stroll in the woods, when another girl - we'll call her Tonya for the same reason as Nikki - runs up and interrupts. Tonya pulls Nikki aside and tells her that she thinks her boyfriend, Rock, is cheating on her. Now, when we first met Rock, he was with another girlfriend, so it is quickly established that Rock is either a major player, or Michael Mfume just forgot what he wrote ten minutes ago. Nikki tells Tonya, "Girl, I could have told you that! Every time you got your back turned, he's sleepin' with somebody else!" They laugh it off, and Nikki also tells Tonya that Rock's second girlfriend's name is Yolanda. If you think this is the girl from earlier in the movie, you're wrong. So as far as we know, Rock has three girlfriends, all of whom know about the other two. He must have a massive penis. That's the only explanation. Naturally, the scene fades out in the middle of a sentence. This movie just doesn't want to give you closure!

And now for the first of many eating scenes. I won't mention it after this, because it'll get pretty redundant, but every time the group is eating at a table, they are eating fried chicken, mashed potatoes and drinking malt liquor. Not that they're perpetuating stereotypes or anything. I have no idea what happens during this dinner scene, and if I didn't already know Michael Mfume couldn't afford an editing machine, I would have been astonished that it was left in the final cut of the movie. There are about four copies of Ebony Magazine circulating around the table - again, not to perpetuate stereotypes - and after some guy named Sean calls Mike's girlfriend (she's the Aztec warrior queen, of course) ugly, Mike retorts by standing up and telling a five-minute joke. The punch line is simply the word "fuck". HILARIOUS! After the joke, the women get up and clear the dishes, telling the men not to worry about doing any work. The group decides to go for a late-night hike. Meanwhile, the girls continue their own conversation in the kitchen while doing the dishes. However, it's impossible to know what they are saying, because there is no audio whatsoever in this scene. They do find a gun in a drawer, but of course it's never mentioned again.

The group then moves outside around a fire. Mike is again telling a joke, but the rap music is turned up to such an atrocious volume that it's virtually impossible to make out a single word of the story. They laugh a lot, though, so the viewer just feels really left-out and lonely. And then something weird happens. The scene doesn't end, but it melds into a flashback (you can tell because it's black and white) of four kids playing. Two of the kids are black, and two are white. The white kids give the black kids something, and then they separate. Then we get to see the actual Mason murders. Mr. Mason takes a shotgun and shoots first his wife and his two kids. Although he aims straight down into their bodies, the blood seems to wait a few seconds before suddenly rebounding up onto the ceiling. The shotgun is remarkably loud, so it's incredible that no one wakes up while their siblings are being murdered in the next bed. Nonetheless, he kills all the family members, before turning the gun on himself. He sticks the barrel of the shotgun in his mouth, looks at the director off-camera, quickly removes the shotgun from his mouth and aims it at the ceiling, cues the shotgun sound effect, and then closes his eyes and lays slowly backwards. I don't know, but I think he's supposed to be dead. We see the police investigating the murders. "Investigating" means standing over the bodies and waving their guns around in the air, while constantly looking directly into the camera. If you can believe it, the flashback gets even weirder.

The black kid from before is walking by the fire pit with the old man who died in the beginning of the movie. The kid drops the thing he was given earlier, and bends to pick it up, while the old man continues on at an incredibly slow pace. When the kid stands up, he sees someone - I assume it's the mentally ill son who will return in 13 years - holding some other kid's body. The black kid holds up the object he just picked up, and then runs over to where the old man is standing. He points, but the mentally ill son and the body have disappeared. If the last two paragraphs made no sense, don't worry about it. I've spent three days agonizing over this scene, trying to unravel it's mysteries, but I've had no luck. Trust me, it's meaningless, drug-induced garbage. Don't waste your time.

Back to the real action! Tonya is standing perfectly straight in the corner of the kitchen, simply reading Ebony Magazine, which she is holding an inch from her eyes like any normal person would do. Rock runs in and asks flat-out if she wants to have sex. In short, she rejects him. Yolanda comes in, and Tonya says Yolanda can sleep with her, and Rock can sleep on the couch tonight. They leave the room, so Rock immediately gets on the phone and calls a woman named Monica, asking her to have sex. She says yes. Damn, Rock is GOOD.

Well, we don't have enough characters to keep track of, so Michael Mfume introduces three more. One of them, however, is my second favorite character in the movie. A car is driving down a road, when it suddenly stops. Three people get out - a white man, a white woman, and a black man - and they state that they are out of gas. I didn't know that once you ran out of gas, the car simply slammed on the brakes and shut off, but I'm not an auto mechanic. The white man, Brian, tells his girlfriend, Sarah, to stay by the car while he goes to find a phone. And he demands that his friend, Breakfast - yes, fucking Breakfast - comes with him. Breakfast throws a fit, but eventually gives in.

Back at the cabin, Tonya forgives Rock, and apparently Monica never shows up, because Tonya and Rock have wild sex in the bath tub. Suddenly, it's the next morning, and everyone gathers around the breakfast (the meal, not the character) table for another stereotyped meal. Everyone talks about whom they had sex with, and many people discover their significant other cheated on them. However, there can't be any fights while eating, so they just laugh it off. Everyone gets up to get ready for the day, leaving Sean at the table to finish by himself. The camera zooms ominously into his bicep, and fades out.

We go back to Brian and Breakfast, who are approaching some house. Brian wants to go in and look for a phone, and Breakfast just wants to get the hell out of there. He says, "What are you supposed to be, fuckin' Inspector Gadget?" and claims that the black man always dies first in a horror movie, so pretty much the only man safe right now out of this entire cast is Brian. They argue by kicking a fallen branch back and forth without speaking, and somehow that settles the matter. Brian goes into the house, and Breakfast runs away. "Screw these black guys," says Brian. "They don't know nothing." In a Michael Mfume movie, a line like that is like signing your own death warrant. Brian travels throughout the house, screaming every three steps, "CAN I USE YOUR PHONE?!" The house is obviously deserted, but he continues on, anyway. The screencaps I took aren't the best for this scene, because each room was color-coded for some reason, and the colors were so dark it covered up anything that was going on. However, from what I could see, the killer dials a phone, and then smacks Brian in the face with it, killing him instantly. Or, to be more accurate, he moves it in front of Brian's face, holds it there, and whispers, "Fall over." Also, I'm pretty sure the zombie dialed 1-800-KILL-YOU.

There's no way anyone could do makeup
THIS realistic. They had to have actually
killed someone with a phone for this scene.

Breakfast trips and stumbles his way through the woods, saying such lines as, "Homie don't play that goddamn game," to himself over and over. He stops, thinks about going back to save Brian, and then shouts, "Bet you won't catch my black ass!" as he runs off.

The girls at the cabin are sitting around, doing their nails, and reading Ebony Magazine, of course. They all discuss who is sleeping with whom, and what men are best in bed. I love that all of the actresses were willing to play such unashamed whores. When Tonya reveals that her sex was good, they all enjoy a celebratory high-five.

After that brief - and completely necessary - interlude, Breakfast reaches Sarah and the car. He tells her that Brian is still back at the house, and when she asks where Breakfast is going to go, he says, "I'm running back to Baltimore!" And run he does, right out of the movie. So long, Breakfast. I'm glad the giant 'tard didn't get you.

In the cabin, this guy named Tony finally gets his two minutes of fame in the movie. He goes to the bathroom, which we are forced to watch. And since they didn't use many special effects, including sounds, in the making of this movie, we can only assume he was really peeing. He pees for about a minute straight, before something outside catches his eye. He opens the window and sees the killer prowling around outside. "Fuck!" he shouts, and runs downstairs to tell Mike. Tony and Mike agree to go "fuck him up," and they run outside to do so.

Assuming everything is fine, Tonya and Rock slip outside by the fire pit to have some sweet sex. Rock wins Tonya's heart with lines like: "You phatter than a swamp possum with the mumps," and, "You so fine, I could kiss yo' daddy's ass." He seriously said those sentences to a woman, and she seriously swooned over them. Tonya says she only wants a man with money. Rock promises to buy her things, so they make love while a killer runs amok.

Everyone seems to have forgotten about the strange man, because they are suddenly all back enjoying a fine chicken dinner. They quickly realize that Tonya and Rock are gone, when a scream interrupts their meal. Everyone gets up, frantic, and runs to see what is happening. For some reason, Tony remains at the table, shakes his head, and begins to play his Gameboy. That Tony doesn't let anything phase him. They open the door, and Tonya runs in, screaming, "HELP!" Rock follows, and his arm has been cut! Everyone starts talking at once, and the door opens again, and in falls the body of Brian. They scream, and we see that when someone is killed by having a phone smashed against his face, what is left are the signs of a bear attack. The group panics and runs outside. They see the killer is doing something with their cars, so they shout, "Oh shit!" and that shot repeats itself, so we get two identical "oh shits," and they run back inside. They have him outnumbered 15 to 1, but they're still terrified. They all run past the camera, screaming - some noticeably laughing - and Tony, the goofball, stops and screams right into the lens.

Acting!

The group comes up with a few brilliant plans. First, they elect Mike to go check out the cars and see if they are tampered with. So, rather than walking normally, he dances his way on over. Way to play it cool, Mike. At first, the dance is funny, but after about a minute of it, it gets a little awkward. Especially because this is one of the only scenes in the movie without music behind it. The car sparks, so Mike opens the hood and checks it out. All he really does is open it, look inside, and then close it again, saying, "Shit, shit shit," a lot. When he closes the hood, he sees that the killer is standing behind him with a machete! Mike elbows him in the stomach, which throws the killer onto the ground, and Mike manages to escape indoors. However, they forgot to lock the door behind them, so the zombie simply opens the door and stumbles in. Everyone screams, and the scene fades to black. Yes, it fucking fades to black in the most climactic scene in the entire movie!

Here's what we can assume happens off-screen: somehow, they all escaped the killer and decided to split up and run in small, ragtag groups throughout the forest. I don't see why not. Rock remembers he has a gun in his pants. It's understandable that he didn't think to use it against the lunatic killer. Rock's group gets in a fight, and they leave Rock behind. The killer jumps up from behind Rock and, in possibly the best moment in any movie ever, Rock screams and wiggles his glasses. Now that's comedy! Suddenly, Rock is dead (or IS he?) in the grass, and the killer trades in his baseball bat for Rock's gun. Back at the cabin, one of the girls walks up to the door to leave the house, and then thinks better of it, for some reason. She turns around, and there's the killer, with his machete again! He cuts through her entire fucking skull, causing her to laugh on camera.

Wow, Sarah's still alive! Remember her? The only white girl in the movie? For some reasons, she's walking through the forest, and literally tripping every couple of steps. In a thirty-second walking scene, she trips SIX TIMES. And she's just shuffling her feet; she's not even really walking! From out of the woods behind her comes the killer, grunting like Frankenstein's monster for some reason, and you know instantly Sarah is dead. There's no way she'll survive if she can't even walk through grass that hasn't been mowed in a week. She runs off camera.

Meanwhile, Tony and the Aztec find Sarah, Brian and Breakfast's car. They get in a fight, and the Aztec woman slaps Tony across the face, prompting a series of, "Oh, you did not just slap me in these woods! You did not just slap me in these woods! I can't believe you just slapped me in these woods! What is wrong with you? I can't believe you just slapped me in these woods!" God, this script is perfect.

Sarah jumps over the camera and runs off screen. The second she disappears into the woods, the scene repeats itself. Michael Mfume, did you even try anymore when you got near the end of the movie? Meanwhile, Mike is sneaking into the house where the old man was killed in the beginning. He holds his fingers like they are a gun; either he's pretending to have one to try to trick the killer, or he was supposed to have one and they lost the gun prop while filming. Either way, he sneaks into the house, and finds the closet with the dead old man in it, revealing that it was his grandfather! You think Mike would have said something earlier, like, "Hey, guys, my grandfather lives next door. Let's go to his house to call for help."

What the hell? What's Rock doing alive? Turns out he survived the deadly blow, and he's back in the multicolored house, only it is no longer multicolored. Rock throws himself on a chair and, always the genius, tosses a bedsheet over himself to hide. Perfect! Nikki also enters the house, and she is fooled by Rock's clever, clever trick.

Two other people - it's too dark to see who they are - enter another house. Apparently this cottage was in the middle of a rather well-populated area. Why didn't they just go to one of their neighbors earlier for help? The two sneak upstairs, and when they see the killer is inside, the man pushes the woman into the killer and runs out the front door. Naturally, the woman dies. Or, at least, the zombie swings his machete five feet in front of her face and then she's laying on the floor covered in blood. Second-guessing himself, for some reason, the man turns around, runs back inside, pushes the killer out of the way, and runs back upstairs. What? Why?! You sacrificed your girlfriend and then decided to stick around? Of course, the killer takes out his gun and shoots the man in the back. Good riddance.

There's a quick shot of the camera man dropping the camera while walking through a forest (further evidence that the editing process was skipped), and then it quickly cuts to the killer entering the formerly-multicolored house. He sees Rock's clever sheet disguise and is also fooled by it. Nikki is upstairs in a closet, praying. The killer strolls around the room and then leaves. But a skeleton drops its hand on Nikki's shoulder, and she screams, giving away her position. She tries to shut the door on the killer, but he manages to give her quite a nasty cut to her arm. As in, the blade goes four entire inches through her rubber-like bones. Nikki falls back, gripping her severely damaged wrist, and the zombie taps the door, making it fall right over. He jumps at Nikki, but Rock throws off his tricky disguise, pushes the killer to the floor, and runs away with Nikki. Surely he's dead now!

Meanwhile, Mike hears some noises, so he shoots at a door, somehow managing to make the bullets make noise before he even raises his gun. The killer bursts through the door, and of course we cut to another scene immediately. There are some more running-through-the-woods shots that are far too dark to see, and hundreds of sound effects of the killer grunting and groaning like an asthmatic hag running a mile. Four of them meet up at the car, and they stand around yelling about something - I'm not sure what, but it gives the killer enough time to catch up with them. Then there are even more shots of them running through the woods. THRILLING.

They manage to find an old, abandoned warehouse (in the middle of a forest), and they seek refuge there. The killer, of course, shows up instantly, so they all back into a corner. They take a few shots at him, but nothing but yellow goo shoots out, and he continues to walk towards them. Will he never die?! He picks something up, and the Aztec shoves a pitchfork straight into his chest! Convinced that they've finally killed him, they all kick him on their way out, and Mike takes some time to gather up some random coupons from the floor of the warehouse. Classic Mike!

We see their car drive down the road, and the killer following them. I smell a sequel!

The ending credits are sure to thank God, Spike Lee, and all those who supported him, and those who did not. I'm assuming that was meant to be a little "fuck you"" to everyone who said the movie sucked, because Michael Mfume knew it would become huge and an instant classic. Now, though, the irony is just depressing.