One of my biggest online pet peeves is the overuse of abbreviations. Some are OK, don't get me wrong. But some people just don't know when to stop. I have a hard enough time trying to figure out what the hell personalized license plates mean. Why should I have to try to figure out what you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it already.
Things like this really annoy me. If you can figure them out you are doing better than me. Some I have learned through asking others, but honestly, if you have to ask then there is a problem. Others are obvious, but just annoying as hell. Is it just me?
STFU
W R U @
FML
LMAO
ROFLMAO
What's UR 20?
NFW
OIC
And the list goes on. It's endless. More pop up every day. What if we spoke to each other that way? I would have to slap the shit out of someone. Texting was bad enough, but Twitter has just made things worse. I have trouble enough with English (and it's my first and only language). Why do I feel the need to learn an entirely new one? This is the reason I never text anyone, and the reason I despise receiving texts, so if you have my cell number, just call me. If it's important enough to say to me, then dial my damn number and tell me. Be warned that if you send me a text I will NOT respond. I hate it with a passion.
As you know, I am addicted to Twitter, so naturally I use some abbreviations from time to time to get my message withing the 140 character limit. But ONLY after I have exhausted every other possibility for using proper English. If I need to send two tweets to complete my thought, so be it.
Maybe I'm just too old fashioned. NOTE: I am not old, and anyone why says I am is in for one hell of an ass whooping. I'll show you just how old I am. The point is, if it's important enough for you to say to me, then just say it. Don't play games. I am a very tolerant person, but there are some places I have to draw the line, and this is one of them. If you want to use silly abbreviations with each other, fine. Don't do it with me. I'm not smart enough to figure it out and I will probably just ask you to explain it, so you might as well write it out anyway.
Recently porn model Tommy DeLuca contacted my buddy, Pierre Fitch about wanting to do a scene with him. After paying for DeLuca's plane tickets, booking a suite at a hotel, which was almost $400 for a night, DeLuca seems to have had a bit of a diva tantrum over having to take a taxi to Pierre's place. Isn't it enough that he was welcomed into Pierre's home, eat Pierre's food and be treated to an amazing time in Montreal? I have been a guest of Pierre's on many occasions. He is quite possibly one of the most entertaining and generous hosts I have ever had the pleasure of staying with. Pierre documented the incident on his blog. One thing Pierre left out was the fact that DeLuca had a major issue with not having a direct flight from New York to Montreal. OK, so he would have had to change planes in Philly. Was he worried about chipping a nail? There was only one direct flight from New York to Montreal and the ticket would have cost over $1300. When you calculate that in with the $400 hotel room, camera man, editing, plus paying Tommy his fee the shoot would have cost in the neighborhood of $3000. That is an extraordinary amount to pay for one scene. Even with the less expensive connecting flight, which was about $700 (non-refundable, by the way) the scene would have still been the most expensive Pierre had ever produced. How can DeLuca consider himself a professional or even worth of working in the porn industry. It's not like he is the most attractive model. If it were not for his horse size cock he would never get any work. I have reposted Pierre's blog entry detailing the events of what happened. There is no justification for DeLuca's behavior. None whatsoever. I have known Pierre for some time and consider him one of my best and dearest friends. I know that every word of his post is true. During the entire escapade Pierre was telling me the things that were occurring. Less than 12 hours before DeLuca's flight was set to leave he pulls this stunt. There may be some more underlying issues, but they certainly are not with Pierre. If DeLuca wants to continue in the industry and be taken seriously he really needs to re-evaluate his priorities. On a personal note, I hope that news of this incident spreads through the porn world like wild fire. I sincerely hope that other porn producers and directors will take a very close look at DeLuca before hiring him. If this much drama occurred over a taxi and flight arrangement, can you imagine what he is like to work with on a set. When Pierre told me about what happened I told him to consider himself lucky. This is not the kind of person he needs to be associated with. So here is Pierre's blog entry. Judge for yourself... MISS DIVA CANCELED
Today I get a phone call from Tommy deLuca and he asked me if everything was fine for tomorrow - I said yes. He asked if anyone was picking him up at the airport. I said you can take a cab, you have my home address, and I’ll pay for it. I thought this was all understood, and if not, at least the best and most convenient way.
He replies that he always gets picked up - and asks “don’t you have staff to do so?” I explained how easy is it to get to my place, and whether or not you know the area, the Cabbie does !! - and it won’t cost you anything and it’s quick.
Well, Miss Diva did not like the idea of coming by herself in a cab so I said I would take a cab to the airport and come back with him.
After this phone call he e-mails me telling me I was rude to suggest a cab. My God - it’s just ridiculous. I wasn’t rude, I just said that a cab made the most sense. How hard is it to take a cab !!!???
The most important point is that HE is the one who e-mailed ME for work. I mean, I thought I was a Diva, but damn - this was some real attitude. Thankfully Matt the Great was able to get my airfair ticket back since it was non-refundable.
Sorry to vent like this, but you get the good with the bad here on the blog lol. I’m kind of upset at this behavior, because in over 10 years I have always been nice to models and never had problems as petty and crazy as this one.
The bottom line is he cancelled - over taking a cab I’d pay for, he cancelled the shoot. I was really looking forward to working with him, but imagine on set how much crap there might have been. He was my most expensive shoot ever … airfare, cab, cameraman, hotel and his fee - and he pulls this immature stuff. Sorry again for the long rant, but it’s just so upsetting.
I just did an AMAZING interview with Ian Duncan, owner of Video Boys and Squirtz in Montreal. He is one of the sweetest and most genuine people I have ever spoken to. We have so many friends in common that I wonder how it is that we have never met or spoken before last night. It's a pretty long interview but so worth it. It really devolved from an interview into a great conversation. Before either of us knew it we had been on the phone for almost two hours.
Ian had a very troubling childhood but overcame his adversity and started his Video Boys when he was just 18, when the Internet was still new to most of the world. Now at 33 Ian is still going strong. He's very open about his life and has admitted that talking about his past has helped his deal with it and come through it a better person. I had a tremendous amount of respect for Ian based on what I had heard from Pierre Fitch, Jeremy Feist and Jeremy Roddick, but after speaking to him I now have an even deeper respect for him.
So I went to see GI Joe today. The movie was missing something. Now what was it..... hmmmmm.... Oh yeah, a PLOT! There were some good action scenes, but the story (what little story there was) was kind of hard to follow. Now, I am by no means a movie critic. I just know what I like, and the only thing I liked about this movie was Channing Tatum. Looking at him was the only really redeeming quality about this movie. Honestly, do Hollywood producers and directors think that a movie can stand on action alone? I've seen better story lines in car commercials. At best this would make a semi-decent rental. The people sitting next to me actually left about 15 minutes before the movie ended. If you have to leave a movie during the climax, it really wasn't much of a climax, now was it? You can check it out for yourself, but honestly, I would recommend spending $10 somewhere else.
I am so proud of my new interview site. In it's first three days it has had over 600 hits. I guess that is pretty good for a new site that has barely gotten any publicity. Luckily, all of the stars I have asked for an interview have agreed too! I couldn't believe it. The feedback has been more than I ever expected. I'm not making a cent off of the interviews. I do it because I love it and I want people to see a different side of the stars other than just being pretty faces or asking them about their latest DVD's or photo-shoots.
Now I have a dilemma, which banner should I use for the site. Please help me decide. I can't make up my mind. Please post a comment and let me know which one you prefer, the first or the second.
I really can't decide, so I need your help. Grrrrr... I hate the trivial decisions. I guess it is up to you to decide.
Thanks guys! And please be sure to read a comment on the interviews at www.gaystarinterviews.com. Your comments are very important to me. They help be grow as an interviewer, plus the stars being interviewed love to check out the comments too. It means a lot to them.
For those of you that remember. I used to interview gay adult entertainers for Pierre Fitch's site, www.meetpierrefitch.com. I have created a new site; www.gaystarinterviews.com. Here I have reposted the interviews from before and plan to add many more. I am expecting a call from Jesse Santana momentarily. As promised I will post our conversation; however, it will be posted on my new site.
So for those who have not had a chance to read the interviews, you are in for a treat. And for those of you who read them the first time, I'm sure you will enjoy getting to know your favorite stars all over again.
I checked my voice mail today and had an unexpected call from the amazingly hot Jesse Santana. I haven't spoken to him since New Year's Eve, so you can imagine my surprise. I returned his call this afternoon. I continue to be struck by how genuinely sweet and seemingly shy he is. He was calling to ask a little favor of me. I'm not going to say what it is right now. You will have to wait until tomorrow. Don't worry, it will be worth the wait. Jesse has been a busy boy. I'm thrilled that he thought of me, and I can't wait to share everything with you tomorrow. I know... the anticipation is killing me too, but I don't know everything myself, so I we are all in the same boat here. All I can say is that it is something big, so be sure to stop back by.
Anyone who really knows me knows that I have an unquenchable love of kink and leather. Maybe that's the reason I am so drawn to Wolf Hudson, the King of Kink. Wolf has demonstrated time and time again that he knows how to make a scene hot and push the envelope of kink, without entering the realm of disgusting. Yes, there is kinky, and then there is. "what the hell are you doing with that goat?!"
Is it because he can pull of wearing leather like no one else? Is it because he has mastered talking dirty down to a science? Is it because he is forceful and dominant? Or is is because under all of this he is one of the sweetest and funniest guys ever.
We have been following each other on Twitter for a while. He continues to keep me laughing. The banter back and forth between him and his best friend, Rob Romoni, and his enthusiasm for life keep me coming back.
Wolf is probably one of the biggest Michael Jackson fans ever. He is a remarkable dancer and credits his love for dance to The King of Pop. So when news broke of Jackson's death my first thought went to my friend, Wolf. I knew a part of him died that day too. He tried to get tickets to Jakson's funeral at the Staples Center in LA, but was unable to. Fortunately a fan scored two tickets for him. I know this meant the world to Wolf; to be able to say a final farewell to his idol.
Wolf has is now directing quite a bit and has signed as a Cocky Boys exclusive. He continues to produce some of the highest quality work in porn, but his life is not all about porn. He has an amazing life story. He has several siblings from a father who seemed to have multiple encounters with other women. A short while back he located a sister he never knew he had, and more recently located a brother on Facebook. He's had his ups and downs, but through it all he has come out on top.
Wolf recently hosted the 2009 Grabby Awards in Chicago. There were several stars nominated, but through the votes and support of his fans he won the coveted honor. I have seen many of the clips on youtube and from all accounts he did an amazing job.
I wish Wolf all the luck in the future. He has certainly been an inspiration to me and to countless others, not just through his porn work, but through his blogs as well. He may be the King of Kink, but hhe is definitely one of the most down to earth, coffee chugging, people I have ever known.
Ugh... will the rain ever go away? This has been on of the wettest summers on record for the east coast of North America. Normally this time of year we are battling a drought. This year we are battling flash-floods. My friend Robert from Australia has been telling me about the drought they have been having for about a decade. He says that there are kids who have not seen a significant rainfall in their lives. I wish I could send some of this rain his way.
Today as I was leaving work a sudden storm came out of nowhere with rain blowing completely sideways. Traffic lights were blowing in the wind, trees were being uprooted and suddenly all of the power went out in the city. I could not see more than one care length in front of me. After about 10 minutes it went as fast as it came. Now the sun is out and there is not a cloud in the sky. This has been typical for this summer so far.
My friends in Montreal have been consumed by this unusually wet weather as well. Come on, give us a break. Is there a weather fairy we need to appease? Is it too much to ask for a nice clear week?
I'm trading in my car for a hovercraft this weekend. It's either that or build an ark.
I used to laugh at the Twitter-holics. Can't people find a better use for their time? It seemed like a way stalking had just become easier. Now I have to admit I think I have a Twitter problem. I first realized it when someone was sitting in front of my desk discussing something important with me and I was checking Twitter on my iPhone while holding it under my desk. It's a sickness.
If Facebook is the crack of the internet, Twitter is the heroin. I don't really have an addictive personality. When I quit smoking, I just set them down and walked away. I've always prided myself in being able to resist addiction. What the hell happened? Do I really need to tell the universe my random thoughts and give witty replies to others' tweets? Apparently so.
Although I find myself in love with Twitter now, I think there are some who have a more serious problem than I do. I think a lot of them tweet so much that they forget the whole world can read what they are posting. If they only realized I'm sure they would think before they tweet. Some of the celebrities are the worst. They actually make plans with their friends on Twitter, letting every lunatic in the world know when and where they are going to be. Smart, really smart. It's like a TMZ magnet.
I keep about four windows open on my browser at all times; my email, this blog, another random blog, and Twitter. There could be worse things I guess. It started as a guilty pleasure reading others' thoughts. Now I can't get enough. It's like breathing. I was in a restaurant tonight with business associates and could not wait to get the hell out of there so I could check twitter. Now that's sick! Even as I write this I am pausing every 30 seconds to check Twitter and make the occasional tweet. Is there a rehab program for this?
What a week I had last week. On Friday I arrived in Montreal to visit Pierre Fitch. I should have been at his place by noon, but customs had other plans. The line to get through customs was over a half mile long and after waiting 3 hours I thought I was going to piss in my pants. As the Canadian border agent asked me the standard questions (where are you from, where are you going, are you bringing any gifts, etc.) I could barely contain myself. I finally asked him where the nearest restroom was. That was my mistake. He handed me a pink slip and asked me to pull into a lane to the left so they could inspect my car. To make a long story short, I was told I was stopped because I was acting suspicious. I said, "no shit! I've got to pee." After they searched every inch of my car and inside my luggage I was on my way... and yes, they let me use their restroom.
When I arrived at Pierre's (four hours late) his DJ teacher was there along with Pierre's boyfriend, porn star Julien Cox. (You can check out Julien's site at www.juliensboys.com).We had a great time listening to Pierre practice his DJ skills that afternoon. On Saturday we resumed our work on what would become known as the "Bad Boys Den." We worked all day, painting the floor, touching up the walls and hanging my paintings on his walls. That night we went to Taboo, where Julien is now dancing, and then to Adonis to spend a little time with Jeremy Feist and to see him dance.
On Sunday we worked more. Sunday night we went to Tribe to see one of Pierre's favorite DJ's, DJ Paolo. He was fantastic, and in Pierre's charming style, he managed to get himself into the DJ booth to watch a master DJ up close.
Monday brought more work on the Bad Boys Den. We grilled out a few times and had a great day. That night we sat back to watch a movie. At midnight Pierre reminded me that it was officially my birthday and insisted on giving me a birthday spanking. In good humor I bent over his ottoman in the living room while he and Julien gave me one of the most severe spankings I have ever had in my life... up until that point. I was expecting a few swats on the ass. I didn't count on a full-on assault!
The next morning we resumed work on the Bad Boys Den. All day Pierre and Julien were teasing me, telling me they had a big surprise in store for me. There were no hints other than that. About 4:00 PM they started rushing me. Julien said, "Oh Matty. When you're finished painting you need to go upstairs and get ready for your surprise." So I was off to the shower to freshen up. Shortly after I got out of the shower the doorbell rang. Leave it to me to ruin a surprise. I have always made myself totally at home at Pierre's place, so when the doorbell rang my first instinct was to answer the door. Before Julien could stop me I was opening the door for Jeremy Feist holding a plate of homemade chocolate-chip cookies and a gift bag.
Pierre and Julien rushed Jeremy into the basement but would not let me back downstairs. All alone in Pierre's apartment, just me and the liquor cabinet. After my fourth screwdriver Julien came to tell me I needed to get into the bathroom for about 30 seconds. I staggered into the bathroom and waited. In about 30 seconds Julien opened the door and told me to get to the basement. When I got downstairs I was amazed. Pierre and Julien had planned a surprise party for me complete with a DJ from Parking, Pierre's favorite club in Montreal. And who were the guests? None other than some of the hottest dancers in Montreal. They were really sweet guys... and shirtless! Time for another birthday spanking.
This time Pierre held my wrists while each person in the room took turns giving me a spanking with a leather paddle that I had brought for Pierre. Of course when it came time for Pierre to give me a spanking he made sure not to hold back. When he finished I told him it was time for my present. I turned him around, pulled his pants down and gave him a bare-ass spanking with the paddle myself. And to show that there were no hard feelings I reached into the front of his underwear and gave Little Pierre a squeeze. Hey, I was drunk! Don't judge me! Pierre, Julien and Jeremy were amazed at how drunk I was before the guest had even arrived. There's nothing sweeter than a room full of porn stars and dancers singing "Happy Birthday" to you in English and French.
On Wednesday Pierre and Julien had another surprise for me. They blindfolded me and put me into the back of my own car. (I should mention at this point that several times in the days leading up to the party I would notice my car keys missing along with my car. When I would ask Pierre when Julien was he would shrug his shoulders and give me a grin. I knew something was up.) After driving me around for about 10 minutes they took me out of the car and lead me through what seemed like a parking garage. I was really nervous now. Finally Pierre instructed me to take my blindfold off. We were at the Bio-Dome in Montreal. If you ever visit Montreal be sure to check out the Bio-Dome. Its like an indoor zoo. Each room is climate controlled and there is not much between you and the animals. They try to replicate the animals natural habitat as closely as possible. No keeping different species separate. Oh no, that would not be natural. Looking over the railing at a couple of crocodiles in a stream while birds and other animals walked by them and fed from the fish in the stream. What could be closer to nature? This was amazing. In fact, it was nothing for a bird to fly right by you or land on the walkway with the tourists. At one point I saw Pierre chasing behind some large tropical bird about the size of a turkey.
That night we went to the Home Depot to get some more supplies for the basement. Because it was getting late the parking lot was practically empty. Julien and I decided to give Mr. Fitch a driving course. I'm still trying to figure out where I had the lapse in judgment. Pierre does not drive because he lives in the heart of Montreal with a metro station one block away and everything he could ever need on his street. He has no need for a car, or a driver's license for that matter. Stupid us, Julien and I assumed that Pierre did not know how to drive. After taking my car a safe distance away from the other cars in the Home Depot parking lot I gave Pierre the keys. He insisted on Julien sitting up front with him. I took my seat in the back thinking that this would be a fun and enjoyable experience. No sooner had I closed the car door, Pierre gunned it. Tires were screeching as we went hurdling across the parking lot. When I yelled for him to stop, he did. He hit the brakes full-force sending me into the back of Julie's seat. Before I could sit back up we were off again. I looked up in time to see the side of a silver BMW fly by. I'm not sure how close he came to hitting it, but I was wondering if my auto insurance covered accidents caused by wild porn stars. Pierre whipped around a sharp turn, tires squealing. No need to slow down, let's just scare the hell out of Matt. Julien and I were both screaming in terror as Pierre giggled in delight. I told him to slow down during turns. Do you think he listened? NO! He jerked the wheel suddenly and sent the car lurching in another direction without letting off the gas. Honestly, I think he was accelerating through turns. Julien and I begged him to stop. Finally he did, relinquishing control of my car back to me. It was then that it hit me that Pierre had been having a little fun at our expense. He totally knew how to drive. He played along and gave us the fright of out lives. I drove out of the Home Depot parking lot leaving most of the rubber from my tires burned into the asphalt where Pierre took us on his joyride.
After the trip to the Bio-Dome it was back home where Julien cooked us a fabulous dinner. I have to say, he is one of the best cooks I have ever known. He can improvise a recipe with minimal ingredients on hand and make it look and taste like something from a 5 star restaurant. We then went back to the basement for a little more work. I think Pierre enjoyed the birthday spankings a little too much. He tied my hands a feet to two metal posts in his basement to ensure that I could not escape. He then pulled my shorts down and proceeded to give me yet another birthday spanking with the paddle. Julien was on the other side spanking me with a little leather whip. I thought the spanking at Midnight on Tuesday was bad. That was a walk in the park. This time Pierre let his full force loose on my ass. The louder I screamed the more he giggled with pleasure. It was useless. I could not free myself. I had to endure it, screaming and cursing the entire time. When he was finished I insisted on having my turn. I tied his hands and ankles, pulled down his shorts, and Julien and I began our beating. Pierre screamed and tried to move around. Finally he freed his left hand and began to set himself free. While he was untying himself I offered to kiss it and make it better. With that I leaned down and planted a big kiss on his rosy-red ass. The damage to his ass was nothing compared to mine. I pulled my shorts down once again for him to see. My ass looked like it was ready to bleed. The pain was throbbing and Pierre was beside himself, laughing at the damage he had inflicted.
The next morning I woke before Pierre and Julien. I knocked on the bedroom door to let them know it was time to get up. I would be leaving in a few hours. We enjoyed a nice breakfast together at a local diner and the added a few last touches to the Bad Boys Den. Pierre and Julien Hugged me as I left. Pierre's hug was not like a quick hug that we give to acquaintances. This was a long and tight hug. The kind that says "I love you" without words.
I do love my friends in Montreal. I can't imagine not having them in my life. The older I get them more I realize how important they are to me. Pierre Fitch, Julien Cox and Jeremy Feist are three of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. They are not porn stars to me. They are some of my closest friends. I love them with all my heart and cannot begin to thank them enough for the wonderful week.
I'm having an amazing time with Pierre Fitch and friends. On Friday night I had the great pleasure of meeting his DJ instructor. We set up some new speakers that he had ordered along with a laser light for the new basement club that we have been working on. I think Pierre wants to call it "The Bad Boys Den." I kind of like the sound of it.
We have been grilling out a lot and have hit a few clubs. Saturday night we stopped by Taboo to see some of the dancers there, then we made a stop at Adonis where I had a chance to meet up with Jeremy Feist for a little while. Then Pierre was hungry (as usual) and we hit McDonald's about 2:00 AM.
On Sunday night we went to Tribe to see a famous DJ who Pierre really likes. Lucky Pierre got a chance to go into the DJ booth with the DJ to watch him spin. After a few hours of drinking, socializing, drinking, dancing, drinking, oh yeah, and drinking, we grabbed a cab back to Pierre's.
This morning I cooked breakfast for Pierre and Julien, then it was off to the hardware store and back to our construction project in the basement. I hope we get it completed this week before I have to head home. I wish I could stay about 3 more weeks. Pierre has invited me to stay an extra day, but I don't know if I am going to be able to do it or not; we'll see.
I made the mistake of telling Pierre that my birthday was this week. For the last 3 days he has had a devilish look on his face and has been whispering a lot to Julien behind closed doors, and sometimes right in front of me. They have told me that they are planning something very special and that I would never forget it. Now I am really worrried. They will not even give me the slightest hint. They even borrowed my car and left me here alone to "get some stuff" for my birthday. Again, that is all I could get out of them. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
Tomorrow I am on another road trip to Montreal to visit Pierre. The plans are to finally put the finishing touches on the new basement room/club. Something tells me it will never be finished. Just when I think we are almost done Pierre wants something else. I'm not complaining because he has great ideas and its fun taking them from the planning stage to reality. But this trip I hope I have a little more time for some other things too. There's so much of Montreal I want to see and experience. Now if I can only figure out how to translate the metric system into the standard system.
The basement club was a lot of fun to work on when I was there a few months ago. I can't wait to see what progress he's made. Now to add a bar and some other furnishings.
I always have a great time when I'm there. Pierre is the perfect host. I wish I could visit more often. Although I always seem to gain about 10 pounds when I visit. I can't figure that one out. Pierre stays in perfect shape and my pants are bursting at the seems after 2 days!
I can't believe I am actually moved this much by the death of an infomercial pitchman. I was shocked at first to hear that Billy Mays, the infomercial king who introduced the world to Oxyclean and Mighty Putty, not to mention countless other things, had passed away unexpectedly. While most of the pitchmen on television of over-the-top and down right obnoxious, there was something appealing about him. I don't know what it was. Could it have been the fuzzy beard or his enthusiasm for whatever he was hocking to me? I really don't know. All I know for sure is that my laundry will never be the same. Every time I reach for the Oxyclean I will always think of Billy Mays.
Why was it so easy to buy from him as apposed to the other pitchmen? Others completely turn me off. I wish Vince would choke on a ShamWow. He had a talent that I don't think many realized until after he was gone. Why else would the passing of an infomercial icon bring such national attention and grief.
I for one am going to miss him. I just can't explain it, but I really am going to miss him. Anthony Sullivan has been around much longer than Billy Mays in the infomercial world, but he cannot hold a candle to Billy's exuberance and likability. It feels strange to miss someone yelling at me about the latest, greatest invention, but in a way he became welcome on my television. To think that we will never hear the phrase "Billy Mays here!" leaves a void for me. I can only imagine that he is showing the angels how to get their robes whiter with Oxyclean right now.
I love the Simpsons. So help me Jebus, do I ever love the Simpsons. Why couldn't it stop there. Fox gave us King of the Hill, which is little more than a animated drama which manages to bore me to tears. I realize it is intended to be funny, but damn, did it ever miss the mark. American Dad has its moments. If it were not for Roger I don't think there would be anything salvageable about it. And scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel we have Family Guy. Out of all animated shows on television today, I can honestly say I HATE Family Guy with a passion. I know there are loyal fans of the show. I just don't find it funny. It's about as predictable as the sun rising and clearly meant to grab shock value, but fails miserably.
Now Fox has announced a spin-off from Family Guy; Cleveland. If it is anything remotely like Family Guy it will only confirm my suspicions that the average television viewer has severe mental defects in the humor center of the brain. I know there are legions of Family Guy fans, but honestly, are all the flashbacks and cut-aways really necessary. It only shows that the writers obviously don't have enough material to fill an entire 30 minute show. How sad is that? So what do they expect to accomplish with a show about Peter Griffin's least funny neighbor? Please FOX Network, could you spare us? PLEEEEEAAASE!!!
FOX hit a home-run with the Simpsons, but their choice in animation since that time has been abysmal. The one true quality animated sitcom they had that rivaled the Simpsons in it hilarity was Futurama. So what do the FOX executives do? Cancel it, of course! That Jebus Comedy Central has picked it up and is not planning on relaunching (no pun intended) the series with all new episodes. FOX's loss, Comedy Central's gain. Kudos to Comedy Central. You have redeemed yourself for the abomination that was the Roast of Larry the Cable Guy.
I will never understand my dog, Dammit (no, that's his name not an expletive). I have no doubt that he is a brilliant animal. I think he's smarter than many people I know... and that's the problem. Oh, he understands every command given to him. He chooses to ignore them. Only when I am furious does he actually do what I say. He's a very gentle dog, but don't let his mild-mannered demeanor lull you into a false sense of security. No, he is always plotting... scheming. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
Obedience school started out smoothly enough at first. He learned his commands and was the star of the class. The instructor, Katie, was constantly praising him. In class he followed every command without hesitation. When we were at home it was a totally different story. When Katie told him to sit, he sat. When she told Dammit to lie down, he did. At home when I told him to sit, he would walk away. When I would tell him to lie down, he would... well, do whatever the hell he wanted.
The first session of obedience school passed without incident and he had everyone fooled, except for me. I knew the truth. An owner knows their pet better than anyone. I used to laugh at people who humanize their pets by saying things like, "he's so smart, he's almost human," or, "I think he understands every word I say. Sometimes I think he's about to talk." Yep, I thought Dammit was about to talk once. It turned out to be the most astounding belch ever released from a mammal. In fact, I fail to see how any of God's creatures could make such a sound without imploding. But I do now think that he is smarter than many people I know.
Round two. The first day of the second session of obedience school Katie was thrilled to see Dammit, and Dammit seemed thrilled to see her. It seems during the month or so break between the classes Dammit had been doing some thinking. He understood the commands and understood her methods. He also understood that every time he performed for Katie he would get a treat out of the little blue pouch she wore on her hip. Here's a little side note; dogs are NOT totally colorblind. They simply don't see the range of colors that humans see. Dogs tend to see more blues than anything else from what I have read. Dammit had to wait until the time was right. The first day of class passed without any major incidents other than the fact that every time she spoke he felt like he had something more important to say. I spent the majority of the class holding his mouth shut.
By now I hope you are seeing the appropriateness of his name. Sit, Dammit! Get down, Dammit! Shut up, Dammit!
During the second class Katie let her guard down for a split second. The stars were aligned just right. Katie bent to pick up some doggy toys from a basket, I was talking to the lady next to me about her dog and everything felt right with the world. It was time to make his move. The little blue pouch with the treats was there for the taking. He analyzed the situation for a quick second, then made his move. As if struck by an electric cattle prod, Dammit leaped forward, pulling the leash from my hands, grabbed the little blue pouch from Katie's hip and without missing a step continued to charge through the pet store. The chase was afoot.
Now let me explain; this was one of those big-box pet stores that rivals the size of many grocery stores. Translation: plenty of isles to run through and keep the chase alive. A split second after his daring theft we were in hot pursuit of the bandit. He made quick turns down isles with his paws slipping on the slick linoleum floor. Darting down each isle sending shoppers and their well behaved pets scurrying for safety. Occasionally stopping to make sure we were still behind him, he would dart off again. Through the fish aquariums, past the cat cages, around the giant cage of birds, out the front door and into the parking lot. He stopped in the middle of the parking lot to look back at us, myself along with almost every store employee. I could see the look of satisfaction in his eyes. We broke up into three groups. The first group of store employees went around to the right and up the next row of cars. The second group went around to the left. I led the third group right up the middle, moving ever so slowly towards Dammit. I was speaking as calmly as I could while holding out the largest barbecue basted bone the store had. I thought we were making progress. He seemed to be responding to the bribe. Just as I was within reach of him he faked to the left and shot back to the right and around us making a bee line directly back to the pet store.
When we entered the pet store we found Dammit sitting in the training area. The little blue pouch was set on the floor by the instructors table completely unharmed. He had not taken even one treat from the pouch. He sat there like nothing had ever happened. It was clear that the was never interested in the contents of the pouch. It was the thrill of the chase.
I thought we were going to be escorted out for sure. Katie stood in the middle of the training circle, obviously exhausted, and announced that the class was dismissed. "I'll see you all next week. Don't forget to practice what we learned today. Um, well, just practice what we learned last week." Dammit seemed to gloat during the entire ride home. He had won this round.
The next week was no more successful. The command the dogs was to learn was "Drop It." Katie passed around pig ears to all of the dogs. Each owner would grab the pig ear and command the dog to "drop it." At this command, like well trained furry soldiers, they all followed their orders. All except for Dammit. I gave the command while holding the pig ear. He refused to release it from his jaws. I repeated the command. Still nothing. Katie praised the other dogs and their owners, then turned her attention to us. "Matt, you're doing it all wrong." I released my grip on the pig ear and said, "If you think you can do better, be my guest." Katie calmly took the pig ear in her hand while Dammit help his death grip on the other end. "Drop it." Nothing. Again, "Drop it." Still Nothing. Katie, becoming a little louder repeated the command. At this Dammit rose to his feet and began to pull away. Now it was a game of tug. Katie, probably weighing 100 pounds if she had a pocket full of rocks, began pulling back and yelling, "Drop it, Dammit! Drop it!" I wasn't sure whether she was cursing at the dog or actually using his name. in hindsight I'm pretty sure it was profanity. After a hard fought struggle Katie admitted defeat by releasing the pig ears and saying, "Alright, just keep the damn thing." At this Dammit dropped the pig ear and with a swift flick of his paw, kicked it across the floor. Again, he had no interest in the treat, only in the battle.
As we were leaving the pet store the manager approached me and offered to give me a full refund for the training class in exchange for me agreeing to never bring Dammit back. With the eyes of all of the other dogs and their owners on us I agreed. As we left the store and the automatic doors closed behind us I'm sure I could hear the cheer and applause of everyone inside. Finally the beast is gone!
Dammit continues to be a daily challenge. Just when I think he has thought of it all, he finds another way to leave me dumbfounded and many times outraged. Don't get me wrong. I love my dog and he loves me, but it is certainly a love/hate relationship if ever there was one.
Almost immediately upon the announcement of the death of Michael Jackson the comparisons began between the King of Pop and the King of Rock and Roll. But how deep do the comparisons go?
Elvis died at the age of 42 of cardiac arrest at his home. Sound familiar? Elvis had a history of abusing prescription drugs including pain killers? Sound familiar? Elvis was surrounded for the most part by yes-men, people who told him whatever they thought he wanted to hear rather than what he needed to hear? Sound familiar? Elvis died in debt. He spent more money than he earned? Sound Familiar? Elvis was scheduled to launch a new tour when he passed. Sound Familiar? Elvis was pronounced dead at 3:30 PM. Sound familiar? Elvis left a nine year old daughter behind. Sound familiar?
The similarities don't stop there. Elvis unquestionably changed the face of music forever. R&B had been around for years, but Elvis did something a little different with it. Raised on gospel and country music, he combined the influences of all three styles to create a unique sound. Michael Jackson was also a musical genius. His early albums, especially "Thriller", raised the bar for popular music and set a benchmark for all popular music to follow. Not since the Beatles' "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" album or the Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds" album, has popular music been so influence.
Neither Michael Jackson nor Elvis Presley were at their peak physical condition. Elvis was overweight and severely out of shape. Now reports are surfacing that Michael Jackson was not in the best of health at the time.
There were so many parallels in the lives of these two legends its almost creepy. The mobs of fans and the worldwide outpouring of grief for Michael Jackson is something that has not been seen since the death of the King of Rock and Roll. Yes, even in death the similarities continue. This will be interesting and most probably sad to see the Michael Jackson saga unfold. Rumors and speculation will fly, just as they did with Elvis. People will come out of the woodwork to try to smear his image, just as they did with Elvis. But most importantly, the gift of genius that Michael Jackson gave the world will never be lost, just like Elvis.
There are countless rock and pop stars out there. Many of them are extremely talented and will have very long careers, but very few of them can be considered legends. Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Elton John, the Beatles, Ray Charles, Johnny Cash, Tina Turner... these are just a few undeniable legends and a status not to be taken lightly.
When I first heard of Jackson's death the first person I thought of was Wolf Hudson. Knowing what a tremendous fan he is of Michael Jackson, I could only imagine the pain he was in. Later that night I was chatting with my friend, Jeremy Feist. He asked, "Is it weird that the first person I thought of was Wolf Hudson?" It was strange that we both had the same reaction. I assured him that there was nothing strange about that at all. It just showed our compassion to someone that we both admire and sympathized with his grief.
The first album I ever owned was "Thriller." I can still remember listening to it over and over and over, nonstop. My parents would have to take it from me at night so I would go to sleep. His mark on the music industry will live on forever just as Elvis' legacy will live on forever. The parallels are astounding. Perhaps there is a pattern to true genius. Whatever the the case, both Jackson and Presley will always have a place in the annals of pop culture and the hearts of their fans forever.
