I watched “Meet The Spartans” and I want to kill myself.

Seriously, what a horrible, horrible way to kill time.

Of course, I was expecting the typical dumb humour that is to be found in a parody movie - after all, I’ve watched all the “Scary Movies”, “Epic Movie”, among others. But, with “Meet The Spartans” the attempts at humour are so dumb, not only did the movie fail to provide me with a scene I could describe as funny (much less elicit actual laughter), but it succeeded in making me roll my eyes more than I have ever done in my life. In fact, my eye muscles still hurt.

The movie, as you can probably infer from the title, is a spoof of 300 (with a couple jabs at other “blockbusters” and “cultural icons”), but relies too heavily on gay humour and infaltile sex references which, I guess, would make pre-teenagers giggle a little bit.

The movie is so bad, I can’t even think of anything to say about it that would constitute a “review”. My recommendation is to do something else with your time. Read the newspaper, go for a walk, dig a hole in your back yard - whatever.

The Iceberg.

The Villainy of Rogers Wireless

A few posts back I cited a few examples of thinking about something and having something related happen soon after. Oh, joy, guess what happened to me last week?

I was just thinking about how, despite thinly veiled attempts at selling me a more expensive phone (warnings on how the one I did buy would almost explode upon looking at it), my Nokia 5200 was doing perfectly fine.
The very next day I decided to fish it out of my pocket so I could look at the time. Alas, the screen had a huge smudge all the way across which made it impossible to do so. I tried turning the phone off and back on, but to no avail - even while off, the smudge was still there. Clearly, something had happened to it and it wasn’t about to go away.
I could still make calls, but try using a cell phone with no screen… No messages, no $7 dollar a month MSN service, no calendar, no calculator, no clock, no alarm… you get the picture.

Worry, I did not. I had backup. Why, upon purchasing my phone, the clever little salesman convinced me that since my phone was more fragile than cotton candy, it would be a good investment to give him somewhere around $130 for a full, extended warranty which would fix or replace my phone if anything - ANYTHING - happened to it.
Stupid simp that I can be sometimes, and with the hurry of getting out of the store (I had to go to work that day and was running kinda late), I agreed. I felt covered.

That goes to show you how naïve I can be when the subject of extended warranties comes up in commercial transactions.

As I had a trip to the mall last saturday anyway, I figured I’d stop by my friendly Rogers Wireless store, the very same one where I had made my purchase a few months earlier, and inquire as to how long it would take to get it repaired or replaced.
And guess what the chump behind the counter told me? That despite having an extended warranty, they would charge me for replacing the screen. How much? I didn’t even stick around to find out. Even if it had been something like 20 bucks, I’d rather fix it somewhere else. You know, just out of principle. Those thieves don’t deserve any more of my money. It’s bad enough that my bills come in elevated figures (as in $25 dollar reconection fees - when my service hasn’t even been disconnected).

Off topic, but as long as we’re talking Rogers here, can someone explain to me why it costs me more for a local call (30 cents a minute) than to call a faraway place like Mexico? Sure, I signed up for a Long Distance Saving plan, I have no problem paying as little as 5 cents a minute to call back home, but 30 cents a minute for a fucking local call?

The Iceberg.

Funny Photo Caption

At least I thought it was funny…

The news, not so much. One of life’s tragedies.

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Good Night, funnyman!

The first thing I saw this morning when I opened my MSN was a friend who had the following nick:
RIP George Carlin.

And I thought, “no, it can’t be”. But, alas, it was. George Carlin died.

I can’t even begin to grasp that concept.

As much as I’ve tried all day to remember how it came to be that I started becoming a fan, all I can come up with is a few years back (say 2000 or so) I happened upon a couple mp3’s of some of his most popular material (the seven words bit, or the lists he’d name “Things you don’t want to hear” or “24 things that piss me off”, or the -to me, at least- classic rants on Airport security or the “safety lecture”… or, of course, his rants about religion).

Then came the albums, the HBO specials (which, not having HBO myself, I obtained thanks to the internet), the audio books…

Hell, just so you know I am, in fact, a fan of his and not a bandwagon “oh, he died, let me admire him loudly to gain attention for myself” kind of guy, I’ll share an anecdote with you.
I had downloded the HBO Special “Complaints And Grievances” a few months beforehand, and had practically memorized it.
One day, at a party with some friends, one of them (the host) decided to gather all of the attendees around the computer to listen to something which he said, was the most incredible, the most awesome thing to ever be recorded in MP3 format. It turned out it was the “10 Commandments” part of that special. When I pointed out that it was, indeed a part of the whole HBO special which I had downloaded time before, and when I pointed out that the “list of people who ought to be killed” part was much funnier, they just looked at me like I was some geek, and continued enjoying that fragment of the album.
Their loss, I guess.

George Carlin was a genius not only with the way he deconstructed and played with language forms and use, but also in the way that he manifested his bitterness as comedy - he was always more of a ranter than a joke teller - and it would be unnecesary to say that he was an influence on myself. Not that I’d compare my stupid self to him, but as a fellow cynic, I admire his talent.

Now, together with Mitch Hedberg and Bill Hicks, he is in that big comedy club in the sky.

Joe bless you!

The Iceberg.

2 Years, now.

It’s been two years, almost to the day, since I moved what was known as my other blog over here. My, how the time flies!

Anyway, while it would have been nice to write this on the 23rd, which is the anniversary of my first post (at least according to my archives), the recent course my life has taken makes it a little improbable that I’ll be here in front of the computer on said day.

Just last week, coincidentally, as I prepared to type the entry known as “I cried…” (don’t ask where the inspiration for that one came from…), I noticed that became post number 99, and that, obviously, the next one would be a milestone. That kept me from writing a couple of things I had in mind, because I wanted to “make it special”, but since I never decided on just how worthy of “special” a random post on a blog nobody reads is, and it was keeping me from writing, I just decided to get it over with with one sentence.

That being over, I guess I’ll find the time to keep posting. In the meantime, happy anniversary to me, I’ll celebrate on the weekend.

The Iceberg.

100

This is post number 100.

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I cried…

…When I said goodbye to my daughter for the last time

… When, in that movie, Godzilla found its dead babies

…When my sister called to say my mom had passed away

…When I ran over a kitten and I looked through the rear view and saw it squirming

…While drunk, when I realized my friends back home don’t give a shit

…With joy, when Canada beat the USA 5-2 in the Salt Lake final in 2002

6 times in 8 years, ain’t bad… if you’re a pain swallower with a permafrown etched into your forehead. Oh well.

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Now what?

Not a week ago, I mentioned I was planning my summer vacation to Mexico for August.

Today I walk into work and see a sign that says, in corporate talk, this:

The plant will be shutting down from June 29th to July 6th.

That, plus my 2 weeks vacation, sounds like a good time, up until the moment I realize I’ve managed to save fuck all.

There are further complications, which I will be disussing shortly. So, in essence, I’m left with the all-too-familiar sensation of NOW FUCKING WHAT?

Oh well, back to the drawing board.

The Iceberg.

Oh Snap.

For the past two hours I’ve been listening to channel 6027 on my TV, Sirius’ Heavy Metal channel. It has been cool. Anthrax, Danzig, Metallica, Meshuggah, At The Gates, King Diamond… what the fuck is not to love? They even played Obituary! FUCKING OBITUARY!!!

As I type this, they’re playing a song by mexican thrashsters, Transmetal. And boy, is my face red. I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed to be mexican or a metal fan right now.

It’s a good thing they followed up with Sepultura. Max Cavalera is cool.

The Iceberg

Stupid Airlines…

It is time for me to start planning my summer vacation to Mexico. I haven’t seen my daughter in a year, and I want to change that.

Upon planning a trip, I guess the first step would be to find out when you are traveling, so you can notify your employers in advance. Which leads me to today’s little misadventure.

I’ve always flown (either from Buffalo, NY or Toronto) into Brownsville or McAllen, TX, and then moved by bus, because traditionally, it’s a hell of a lot cheaper. Like, a few hundred dollars cheaper. I think the most expensive flight I’ve taken was from Toronto to McAllen last summer, and if memory serves me, I paid 641.00 CDN.

Which is why, today, I am in awe. Check this out. From Travelocity.com:

and

Apparently, it costs about the same to fly to both places. At least when you see the starting price. For a mere 23 dollar difference, I’m better off flying into Monterrey. Saves me the 50 dollar cab ride across the border, and hey, my bags might arrive with me!
Now let’s see what Expedia.ca has to say:

and

Holy fuck! Now, it turns out, it’s even cheaper less expensive to fly to Monterrey than to McAllen! Cool!  Count me in!
But, wait a minute… isn’t it cheaper to purchase tickets directly from the airline itself?

Um… nevermind. That was Mexicana, by the way. Let’s see my buddies over at Continental.

Shit, now I’m confused. Good thing I’m not purchasing right away. Now, these prices can change. A lot. I hope they change in my favour.
I remember flying in December for less than 500 bucks. Hell, the cheapest flight was around 360. And now, look at these prices! Stupid oil. I might end up riding my bike all the way to Mexico if I go in December…

But, wait! I just found out today that my ex’wife isn’t sending my daughter to my hometown, AGAIN. So why bother traveling? Oh, yeah. This time, if I don’t see my daughter, I’m raising hell.

The Iceberg.