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This will be a HUGE blog since I haven’t posted in a while.

I’ll start off with a serious matter:

Angelina Jolie is reportedly in Vietnam to adopt a child. Don’t get me wrong; adopting a child is a wonderful thing to do. What I find troublesome is that Angelina Jolie apparently didn’t take the time to consider adopting a child here in the United States. Sure, there are a lot more children that need homes outside of the U.S. than inside, but from what I can deduce, there are at least 500,000 foster children in the U.S. that need homes. In 2005, 22,728 foreign-born children were adopted and entered the U.S. Like I said, that’s commendable, but there are at least 22,000 children here in this country that go to bed each and every night praying to have a home and a family. Angelina doesn’t have to go to Vietnam to adopt. Chances are, she didn’t even have to leave her city of residence.

I do understand that adoptions here in the States have some issues. The mother can basically change her mind anytime in the first 2 years of the adoption. It’d suck to adopt, and then have the child taken away after a few years. Also, the mother is now given rights and the means to find her child again really whenever she wants. Oh, she was a crack-whore when she gave away her child, but now she wants to be the kid’s mother 13 years later? So yes, I can see where folks, and specifically people in the public spotlight,

Madonna recently did the same damn thing; it just wasn’t Vietnam in her case. I guess adopting a foreign kid is the new hip thing to do. Instead of toting around a pocket poodle in your handbag, you can tote around an Asian tot. The pocket poodle thing is sooo last week.

Or you can get a Vietnamese kid and a pocket poodle, and your new child can learn to cook his native cuisine.

HA! That was both funny and inappropriate!

Here in Colorado, you can choose from at least 60 different license plate styles for your car. I shit you not, at least 60. You can get a special plate if you’ve adopted a Greyhound dog for shit’s sake. I think it’s comical that I saw a woman driving around with a “Find a Cure” for breast cancer license plate, yet she was sucking on a cigarette. Breast cancer needs a cure now, but lung cancer can fucking wait. She may be hacking up blood in 10 years, but she’ll be damned if she does it with only one tit.

I’m sure you’ve encountered the idiot college frat guy who, when speaking to you, always calls you “bro.” Maybe you know that guy who wears jeans that are too damn tight, a cowboy hat, and insists on calling you “Pardner.” Could the bane of your existence be the southern gal at the diner who always calls you “Sugar” regardless of your physical appearance, financial status, or even gender? Personally, I HATE it when people do this. I have a name and, while I’m at work, it’s even boldly displayed on my work badge. There’s a new patient here who frequents the library who insists on not learning my real name. While in the cafeteria, he says to me, “Hey do ya mind passing the pepper this way, Chief?” In the library, it’s, “Thanks a lot for the help Chief.” Listen up Sport, my name is Sean. Unless you’re present when I dance around my apartment in my boxers with my feathered headdress and Pawnee war club, you’ve got no basis for calling me Chief.

Are these terms supposed to be clever, or endearing in some way? Am I your friend now because you called me Chief? If so, that’s awesome! I’ll go home, pop a few brews in the fridge, throw some of them lil’ smoked barbecue weenies in the crock pot and I’ll await your arrival so we can jam to Manhattan Transfer.

Manhattan Transfer, get it? Manhattan was a tribe of Indians. I’m so God Damn clever.

Now to television:

First, I noticed in a commercial for WWE Wrestling that Donald Trump is playing a part in a current storyline. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Donald recently call Rosie O’Donnell “trashy,” and a few other names? I’m sorry Donald, but you have no reason to call someone else white trash when you’re on pro wrestling. I’m not saying that pro wrestling is just for white trash, I’ve watched it on occasion, I used to watch it a lot in college, and I know someone that’s worked for WWE. However, one has to admit that the white trash stereotype is solidly affixed to wrestling and appearing in it makes what Donald said seem quite hypocritical. Donald is just a whiny bitch. So is Rosie, but she isn’t on WWE at the moment. Although, she is quite mannish and would probably do well there screaming obscenities and pile driving opponents to the matt.

Oh, I’ve got the perfect WWE on-stage name for Rosie O’Donnell: Rosie the Riveter. She’s come out in flannel and steel-toed work boots with a rivet gun over her shoulder.

Secondly, the fiancée was watching television the other night. She turned it to the movie Resident Evil 2. What made me do a double take was the channel it was on. Resident Evil 2, a video game based film with lots of gore, violence, and shitty dialogue was being shown by the Oxygen Network. What the hell?! The Oxygen Network, if you aren’t familiar with it, was formed in part by Oprah. It’s a network aimed towards young women. They show reruns of Ellen and Mad About You and show their own programs such as The Janice Dickenson Modeling Agency. Showing Resident Evil 2 on the Oxygen Network is like showing mother fucking Commando on the Lifetime Network. What was even funnier about it were the commercial breaks. They had commercials for Tickle Me Elmos. The Oxygen Network should learn about a little thing called demographics and target audience. This is almost as bad as the Sci-Fi Network showing ECW wrestling on Tuesday nights. Yeah, like the same guys who watch Stargate are really the type of guys that like wrestling. Most of the guys who watch Stargate have only ever wrestled jelly donuts or D&D dice from their morbidly obese friends.

I’m really not trying to bash wrestling, but it just keeps coming up.

Lastly, 24. I can’t be the only person who thinks this show is getting really freakin’ pointless. All the terrorists have to do next season to defeat Jack Bauer is make sure the crises lasts 25 hours, and then we’re all fucked.

Two nights ago, I saw The Road Warrior in a theater. Oh yes, you heard me right. A United Artist theater here in Denver plays old movies every Wednesday night. I didn’t know about this until my buddy Shanecho asked me if I wanted to see The Road Warrior. Hell yeah I did! Other than my fiancée Samantha, who would be dumb enough to pass up that opportunity? What really topped off the night was the replica V8 Interceptor sitting outside the theater. I didn’t have a camera with me, but it looked exactly like this one:

An actual Ford Falcon all Mad Max’ed out. I so wanted to hop in and haul ass down I-25 with the windows down screaming maniacally. The “placard”, as Shane called it, stated that the replica Interceptor can pretty easily hit 160 m.p.h., or 257 k.p.h. if you’re one of those Metric System bastards.

The metric system is the tool of the devil! My car gets forty rods to the hogshead, and that's the way I likes it!

Tell me what episode of The Simpsons that quote is in, and you will win a 100 count box of #1 size paperclips. This way, when you type out and print all the useless crap you’ve learned while living in your mom’s basement, you’ll have a much easier time organizing it into managable piles.

So I think I’ve cursed myself musically. Last week, while chatting with someone online, I joked about the 80’s band, Men Without Hats. In the last two days, while scanning through the radio, I’ve happened upon The Safety Dance twice. Before 2 days ago, I hadn’t heard The Safety Dance twice in the last 2 years. I crack jokes about Neil Diamond all the time too, and after turning it away from The Safety Dance in disgust this morning, my radio magically finds the song Cherry, Cherry. Later in the day, while getting some groceries at Albertson's, I heard Sweet Caroline. I made a humorous wisecrack about Falco last week. I wonder when that one’s gonna come back to bite me on the ass.

In interesting side note. Did you know that Neil Diamond has a song named: Crunchy Granola Suite? I’ve heard that there was a written, but unrecorded, sequel to this song titled: Fiber Makes me Shit Better.

Maybe you didn’t find that last joke humorous, but just picture this guy standing on stage belting out those lyrics and you’ll laugh too.

I bought Casino Royale on DVD yesterday. Damn, that’s one fine film right there. Even if you’ve hated all the previous Bond films, this one is worth watching, because it’s different than all other Bond films. It’s better than all other Bond films. There are folks out there that argue constantly on who has been the better Bond. Most say Connery, while others say Moore or Brosnan. There are even a few who like Dalton and Lazenby, but Craig would kick all their asses, rope their bodies together as a makeshift raft, and sail to Afghanistan to hunt down Osama with his bare hands. What I’m trying to say is, go watch Casino Royale. You won’t be disappointed.

Yes, I am indeed aware that Afghanistan is a landlocked country, but I was on a roll there, what else was I to do?

Another side note: Did you know that Afghanistan translates to: Land of Afghans? Well, it does. Real clever name they got isn’t it? I wonder how many other ideas they threw away before they decided on that gem. I guess the United States isn’t all that clever either.

“Well Bill, this is a bunch of separate states united together to form a union, what should we call it? I’d like the name to convey that this country is both united yet formed of individual states.”

“Uh, I was thinking: United States.”

“Hmmm. I like it Bill. I like it a lot. Let’s go with it. Now, what should we call this State here that’s sitting directly south of North Carolina? That sonofabitch has me stumped.”

I’ll end this blog with speak of Hollywood sequels and remakes.

First, I heard that Cabin Fever 2 is either filming now or will film soon. I know I say a lot of movies are bad, but Cabin Fever was truly one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Any actor with a shred of self-respect wouldn’t be in a crap sequel like this.

The Hills Have Eyes 2 is coming out very soon. I’m guessing that, if the hills indeed had eyes, they would gouge them out before watching this film.

Do any of you remember the 1978 horror/comedy film called Piranha? Or, perhaps you’ve seen 1981’s Piranha 2: The Spawning, directed by none other than James Cameron. Well, Dimension Films, the bright folks they are, have decided to re-make Piranha. It will be directed by the French filmmaker Alexandre Aja, who last directed The Hills Have Eyes. Do you see how the circle of filth comes back around? Aja says he wants to pay homage to all the "creature films that made me fall in love with the genre." Usually when someone says they want to pay homage, it usually just means they’re going to rip off every idea they can and then whenever someone calls them on it, they say it isn’t a rip-off, but a “homage.”

The last re-make I’ll mention is one I’m actually looking forward to. New Line Cinema has won the rights to Escape from New York. Gerald Butler will play Snake Plissken this time around. The original Escape from New York was actually a pretty shitty film. The sequel, Escape from L.A. was even shittier. I always liked the premise of the films though, and to see Escape from New York done well could really be pretty damn sweet.