Vacation

I’m taking the rocket for a spin… I’ll see you when I get back.

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Tom's Cruisin' and Losin'

Poor, poor, Tommy.

Poor, crazy, insane, nutjob Tommy.

No amount of couch-jumping, fist-pounding or proselytizing will save his career now.  Paramount Pictures, which had been proud of Tom Cruise since the days of Risky Business– but certainly not lately– has dropped him.  And their reason for dropping him?

“His recent conduct has not been acceptable to Paramount,” said Sumner Redstone, chairman of Viacom (Paramount’s parent company). 

In other words, he’s been a complete nutjob and they’re sick of it.  Or they’re sick of spending $80k a movie on him alone only to have it flop because the public is tired of his antics– and his mouth.

I hate to say “I told you so,” but I knew this would happen.  It was only a matter of time before his antics came back to bite him on the ass. And he’s got the teethmarks to prove it, I’m sure.

Now the public is left to wonder what’s next for good old Tommy.  Will he finally marry Katie?  (Not likely.  The wedding date of July 7 has long passed– no wedding reported.)  Will we ever see his alleged baby?  (I doubt it.)  Will we ever care about any of this fabricated publicity crap anyway?  (Hell no.)

In fact, all that Tom Cruise has done since that fateful day he used Oprah’s yellow sofa as a trampoline is make himself look like a freak.  And boy, he succeeded.

Tom, you’re not a 20-something hottie anymore.  Your star is fading.  If you’d have just let yourself grow old gracefully and aged with dignity, you would still be as powerful a star now as you were 20 years ago. 

But you’re under a spell and we know it.  There’s no going back for you.  Well there is, of course, but you’re so hopped up on Scientoligical nonsense that you can’t see your own hand in front of your face.  I’ll let you in on a little secret though.  We can see it, and it’s strangling you, Tom.  Wake up, before it’s too late!

Oops.  Too late. 

Oh well.  C’est la vie.

PadCast #19: Crazy

PadCast #19_ Crazy

Tom Cruise is crazy.  Osama bin Laden is Nuts.  Whitney Houston is a purple banana.

Let’s put ’em in the truck.

OK OK … I’m trying too hard to replicate the lyrics of Prince’s famous song “Let’s Go Crazy.”  But it’s still true.

Crazy people are out there… and some of them are getting their due.  Watch for my rant on Tom Cruise tomorrow for more good stuff about that whacko.

I’m heading to Saugatuck this weekend.  If you’ll be camping at CampIt, let me know!

Watch for a special guest coming soon… as soon as I convince him that he has nothing to be afraid of. 😉  He knows who he is. 😀

It’s late so I need to go to bed.  Comment, people!

Music:  (Opening) Let’s Go Crazy: Prince / The Hits Vol. 1 (iTunes)Music: (Closing)  Crazy Mama: J.J. Cale / The Very Best of J.J. Cale  (iTunes)Subscribe:
iTunes | Odeo

Sexual frustration

OK… I’m starting to wonder if there’s some sort of cosmic misalignment thing going on.

I haven’t had sex in a very, very, VERY long time.

I won’t even bring up how long it’s been since I’ve had a date.

I’ve had dry spells before, but this is ridiculous.

I think I’ve lost my touch with the dating world.  I’ve even lost my touch with the casual sex world.  I’ve become a hermit at the ripe young age of 35.

This just can’t be good.

The problem is, whenever I think of something new and/or different to do, I get very shy and nervous, to the point where I talk myself out of the new idea and revert back to my old ways.

Do I need help?  Is there something I can do to boost my confidence?  Someone I can talk to?

I know what you’re thinking.  But I want you to say it.  Because I need to hear read it.

God I hate all this pressure.  Why can’t life be simpler than this? 

Shady Guy, PI (conclusion)

I met with the Investigator on Monday regarding the accident I witnessed last June.  He was, as it turned out, investigating on behalf of an insurance company (thank you, Scott, for bringing that question to my attention), so I went ahead with the meeting.

He turned out to be a sweet old man.  Definitey of the old school, he took fluid shorthand as I spoke, answering all kinds of questions– some I could remember the answers to, and some that I couldn’t begin to tell him due to my position at the time of the accident.

The whole thing took about 20 minutes, after which he thanked me and I was on my way to work.

Nothing much more to say about that here… I just wanted to give a brief update.  Hopefully (crosses fingers) that’s the last I’ll hear about all of this.  Hopefully!