#27  Love Actually

A romantic comedy with an “All Star” cast, Love Actually was ACTUALLY (derp!) a pretty decent movie.  It stars Pirates of the Carribean’s Davy Jones and Elizabeth Swan, as well as Colin Firth, Qui Gon Jinn, Nanny McPhee, Tim from the British version of The Office, (or Bilbo Baggins from the new Hobbit movie, depending on your preference) Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead, Severus Snape, Billy Bob Thornton (aka BBT), Mr. Bean, and everyone’s favorite befuddled Englishman, Hugh Grant.  If THAT wasn’t enough to wet your appetite, it also features cameos from Elisha Cuthbert, Shannon Elizabeth, and Mrs. Betty Draper herself, January Jones!

Having never sat through this movie, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it had a little more depth and darkness to it than your garden variety romantic comedy shitfest.  In a nutshell, and SPOILER ALERT:

SNAPE CHEATS ON HIS WIFE USING THE ENGORGIO CURSE TO INCREASE THE SIZE OF HIS ERECTION!

I wish I could say that that was the first time I used that joke…

#26  The Year Without a Santa Clause

As I watched this one, I took notes on my computer in an attempt to capture my thoughts as they entered my brain.  Instead of adding any additional commentary or remarks, I figured I would just leave my notes unedited so you could see how simple and elementary my thought process truly is:

The Year without a santa clause:

The Movie without a description.

Mrs. Claus sings about how she has fantasized about being Santa before.  One can only assume that she also fantasized two Santas having gay, geriatric sex.  I invite you to do the same.

Santa: “What are you up to, ma?”

Two elves named “Jingle” and “Jangle.” Jangle sounds like he is voiced by Ray Romano, and his nose is played by a penis.

Heat Maizer and Snow Maizer are both pussies who live in the clouds.

Santa dresses like Mr. Magoo when he’s not working.

What gender would you think “Vixen” is? THAT’S RIGHT! FEMALE!

Ignatius Thistlewhite is the name of the little white kid.

Iggy’s (Ignatius’) mom: “Why don’t you bring your friend Mr. Claus inside, I’ll ‘give him something’ for that cold of his.”  Perhaps the mother is referring to oral sex?

“I believe in Santa Clause” is an oddly written song.

#25  Claymation Christmas

This CBS special is “hosted” by a Velociraptor who talks like Thurston Howell III, so, needles to say, it scores some coolness points right off the bat.  Oh, and the CALIFORNIA RASINS ARE IN IT!!!!

“Hey man, you’re a cab.”

Ooooooh chile, dems sum crazy raisins!

Hey on your way back from that nostalgic journey through your childhood, pick me up some “Bugle Boy” jeans, will ya?  K thanx.

Till we meet again,

JL

For those of you unaware of the intricate plot of this christmas classic:

Several school children are having a Christmas party in their classroom, when a less than stellar magician named “Professor Hinkle,” puts on a terrible magic show, complete with broken eggs, and a rabbit.  Long story short: the rabbit gets Hinkle’s magic hat stuck on his teeny rabbit head, hops it outside onto the playground, and puts it on a snowman that the children built.  Hocus pocus, Frosty comes alive.  Hinkle realizes that the hat is indeed magical, he wants it all to himself. Hinkle spends the remainder of the show trying to bamboozle one of the children (Karen) and Frosty to get the hat back.

Once the temperature outside begins to increase, and Frosty becomes self-aware, he realizes he must get to a cold climate or else he risks a painful, agonizing, death.  This leads Karen, Frosty, and “Hocus Pocus” (the rabbit) on a journey to the North Pole.

The story itself is narrated/sung by Jimmy Durante, an older gentleman with a strong New York accent.  Mr. Durante also sings the story’s theme.  One second he will sing you into the christmas spirit with a delightful 1950′s-esque croon.  While the next minute, he sounds like if you were to disrespect him in any way, that he would surely have one of his goons squeeze your testicles until one or both of them pop.

Uh-Oh!! Little known fact alert!  Other suggested names for Frosty included Harold, Christopher Columbus, and Oatmeal.  However, in hindsight, Oatmeal may have been a more appropriate name for the snowman, because Frosty… is an imbecile. Every time the massive, frozen buffoon comes to life, his first words are always “Happy Birthday.”  This is never addressed or corrected by any of the other characters.  Although I suppose he could be saying “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, but the movie seems to lack any other major religious overtones, other than the fact that Frosty possesses the power of reincarnation.

Anywho, back to the plizzot:  On the way to the North Pole, and in an effort to keep Karen warm in the bitter cold, Frosty finds a greenhouse to shelter the child in.  This shelter will undoubtedly prevent Karen from contracting hypothermia.  Unfortunately, our mustachioed villain, Professor Hinkle, shuts the door and traps Frosty, leaving him with a one way ticket to Melt-town.  Upon Frosty’s violent melting in the greenhouse of “tropical poinsettia plants,” Santa Claus(oh yeah, Santa pokes his jolly ass in there too) reveals that our protagonist was made of “Christmas snow,” which never disappears completely.  See? So he will be back NEXT christmas!  Whatever, Santa.

During Frosty’s heart-wrenching death sequence, our dear narrator/singer, (insert name) leads us through a very somber, very poignant scene, showing us the more memorable moments of Frosty’s 15 minute life.  I half expected the following:

R.I.P Frostazeus "Frosty" Snowman 1969-1969

Speaking of Life and Death, when Frosty first comes to life, he lists the reasons why he is alive.

Frosty’s Rules of Existence:

1. Be able to make words/speech

2. Be able to move

3. Be able to juggle

4. Be able to sweep

5. Be able to count to 10 (Actually, Frosty kinda shits the bed on this rule.  He is only truly able to count to 5 before he begins making horrendous errors.)

6.  Be Ticklish

Yes…YOU ARE ALIVE!

Till we meet again,

JL

While sometimes the Arkansas Razorback fanbase can be an odd bunch, one that could be accused of being loud, irrational, impatient, unrealistic, unreasonable, even bloodthirsty…

…they are not always incorrect.

Houston Nutt: ("unintelligible grunt")

In a display of what can only be described as “Supreme Cosmic Justice,” Houston Nutt’s Ol’ Miss Rebels fell to the Jacksonville State Fighting Gamecocks on Saturday. By the way, dibbs on “Supreme Cosmic Justice” as the name of my metal band.  Don’t worry… We’ll do old stuff AND new stuff.  But I digress…

If your reaction when I told you the name of the team was “who?” you are correct. Jacksonville State University is a member of the Ohio Valley conference in Division I FCS (Football Championship Subdivision) in football, formerly I-AA, of the NCAA.  In other words, a team in the Southeastern Conference, widely regarded as the toughest, most prestigious, and mightiest football conference, should have mopped the floor with these Gamecocks.  However, the football gods saw it fit to teach dear Houston the error of his ways.  But I feel like that this turn of events was not only brought upon by his transgressions as the head football coach at Arkansas, no ma’am.  Nutt stuck his neck out to the NCAA in defense of a player with a, let’s say, less than stellar behavioral background, named Jeremiah Masoli.

Masoli was kicked off the Pac 10′s Oregon Ducks for numerous bouts with the law, such as traffic citations, drug possession, and theft.  Even after the NCAA denied his initial transfer request to Ol’ Miss, Nutt pleaded the case of the once heisman trophy hopeful.  His speech was no doubt “emotionally charged,” whilst speaking of various intangibles such as “heart,” “desire” and the “will to win.”

(brief aside)

Isn’t it peculiar that these are the same adjectives used to describe former Florida Quarterback Tim Tebow?  Only in this case, they are being used to cover up off the field inadequacies, as opposed to athletic ability.  (Translation: Tim Tebow is an overrated bitch.)

(end of aside)

Long story short, the NCAA overturned their decision, Masoli was allowed to play, and they still lost to a grossly inferior opponent.

Supreme Cosmic Justice.

Cue the fight song!

WARNING: The blog is gonna be a tad football heavy for the next little bit (cough…February…cough) so if you enjoy that particular sport, strap in/on! Hell, you might even get a cheap laugh or two out of it.

Till we meet again,

JL

I have unfortunately been severely falling down on my responsibilities to the internet Gods.  But the time has come for them to be appeased.

Hey speaking of the Gods, I am becoming more and more confident that the world will end in December of 2012.  Up until very very recently, I was convinced that the Mayan calendar was simply one that HAD to end at some point, and the date just happened to coincide with one that is within all of our lifetimes.  I had never placed much stock in December 21, 2012 being a possible endpoint of mankind.  I just didn’t.

However, over the recent months, certain events in science, entertainment, and general hilarity have caused me to rethink my stance.

So now…as the Gods bicker over an intense game of “Chutes and Ladders,” one that will decide the fate of our world, it is I who will sift through the rubble…and bring to you…

THE SIGNS OF THE (LOOMING?) APOCALYPSE!

Sign number 1:  The Icelandic Volcano

"One does not simply walk into Iceland."

Unless you have no television, internet, or cell phone, you are undoubtedly aware of the massive eruption of the volcano Kyejalvickekjlajkjaskjdfkjajelak in Iceland, and the massive inconvenience it created for travelers going to and from Europe.  What you are probably not aware of, is that my fiance and I are scheduled to travel to London in early June for our honeymoon.  Why this volcano decided to single-handedly halt all air travel over the one region on the planet where I hope to go (via AIRPLANE) in the coming months is anybody’s guess.

Sign Number 2:  The Midwest Fireball

This one may have actually slipped by you.  Apparently a giant fireball skated its celestial ass across the midwest skies a couple of weeks ago, causing…uh…nothing I guess.  But look, even if it probably was a civil war era comet, I still think the gods were trying to tell us something.

Sign Number 3:  The KFC Double Down

Webster’s Dictionary defines the word sandwich as “ two or more slices of bread or a split roll having a filling in between.”

The Double Down sandwich contains no bread, which, by definition, negates it from being considered a sandwich.

"Now, THIS is a chicken sandwich." Nay, pilgrim. That is a fistful of colon cancer, with two slices of morbid obesity, and a spicy sauce made of labored breathing.

Oh, Colonel…I had misjudged you!  Here you have been the last couple months trying to push your “Kentucky Grilled Chicken” on consumers, and I was SURE that you had gone soft… that you had lost the drive that got you to into the fried chicken racket in the first place.  Boy howdy, was I mistaken.

For those of you unaware of this deep fried monstrosity, the Double Down contains two boneless original recipe chicken breasts with two pieces of bacon, two slices of cheese  and a sauce of unknown origin placed between them.  Too much? Perhaps your taste buds would prefer the grilled version…

A grilled version of the sandwich? Seriously? That will undoubtedly be for the delusional 300+ pound man or woman who want to fully gorge themselves without all of that pesky “bread.”  Actually, KFC should just jump to calling their other bread on the menu “meat interruption” or “that spongy, non-meat shit.”  Be on the lookout for the new original recipe milkshakes.  Two original recipe chicken pieces, blended with a cool glass of whole milk with a rich, cool gravy glaze.  Oh, my taste buds! How they sing!

My biggest gripe however, is the marketing campaign.  In their most frequently running advertisement, they have a black gentleman saying the phrases “Gimmie more chicken,” “Hellooooo, Chicken,” and (very lustfully) “…and two pieces of chicken.”  The only times they mention the GD chicken, they have the black guy say it.    Don’t believe me?  Point your lookin’ balls below…

Read into it what you will, but one must only glance at Colonel Sanders to know that he probably had slaves.

Till We Meet Again,

JL

So…pretty quiet around Fayetteville.  Oh, and by “quiet,” I mean ridiculous, unfiltered, panic…

Because by sundown tonight, the entire state of Arkansas will be a victim of an otherworldly flaunting of Mother Nature’s supreme, unchallenged power…commonly referred to as an “Ice Storm.”  God, I can see her as she gazes down her pointy, witch-like nose with disdain so pure that it could be used in hospitals to cure sick patients.  I’m sure that “Mother Nature disdain” would be an amazing breakthrough in the field of medicine.  However, her hatred would never allow that…she harbors too much contempt for human lives.

But what has brought about such anger?  After hours of intense research, I have discovered that the reason we bear the might of Mother Nature is due to the rise of certain “popular” musicians.  I’ve narrowed the list down to 15 singers/groups.  The blame rests on the shoulders of Chris Daughtry, Jason Mraz, John Mayer, Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood, Owl City, Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Katy Perry, Adam Lambert, Kris Allen, Michael Buble, the Black Eyed Peas, Britney Spears, and the guardians of the gates of Hell itself…Nickelback.

That’s right.  Nickelback is the reason we are about to be hit by a winter storm.

I made the mistake of going to Walmart yesterday afternoon after I got off work.  Good heavens.  Like many Americans, I have had many trips to the world’s largest retailer, and not all of them were the most pleasant experiences.  But in my 23 years on the planet, I have never been in a place with so much obvious confusion, fear, and uncertainty.  I cannot throw stones, however, because I was there with all of them, attempting to protect myself and my fiance against a cold, faceless menace.

Where is all the delicious bread?

While Mother Nature is often portrayed in various forms, such as a sweet old woman tending to a garden or harvesting grain for her village, she continues to be unrecognized as the merciless figure that the winter season truly merits.  I for one believe there should be a better symbol for the nasty side of the season.  And don’t give me the “Old Man Winter” garbage.  He is only pissed because of how cold his coffee is getting.  Plus, he is probably upset that the episode of “Matlock” he just started watching was an episode he has already seen.

No. There should be a symbol more in line with the harsh connotations of the bitter cold of winter and it’s cruel storms.  Something a little more ruthless…

That symbol…Dr. Victor Fries (pronounced “Freeze”).  Otherwise known as Mr. Freeze!
(portrayed by Governor Arnold Schwartenegger)

Freeze is a scientist who must wear a cryogenic suit in order to survive, and bases his crimes around a “cold” or “ice” theme, complete with a “cold gun” that freezes its targets solid. In the most common variation of his origin story, he is a former cryogenics expert who suffered an industrial accident while attempting to treat his terminally ill wife, Nora. (Source: Wikipedia)

Get this…when he is translated to the big screen, ALL of his lines are cold/ice puns!
Come ON! You can’t argue with that!

Just look at some of the lines he was given in the 1997 abortion, “Batman & Robin:”

Mr. Freeze: You’re not sending ME to the COOLER!
–
Cop #1: Please show some mercy!
Mr. Freeze: Mercy? I’m afraid my condition has left me cold to your pleas of mercy.
–
Mr. Freeze: Tonight, hell freezes over!
–
Mr. Freeze: Hello, Sorry about the door, Is the party over?
–
Henchman: Sir! Sir! You’ve gotta see this!
[Freeze freezes him]
Mr. Freeze: I hate it when they talk during the movie.
–
Mr. Freeze: Ice to see you!
–
Poison Ivy: He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me…
Mr. Freeze: NOT! Surprise, I am your new cell mate. And I’m here to make your life a living hell. Prepare for a bitter harvest. Winter has come at last.
–
Mr. Freeze: I will blanket the city in endless winter. First Gotham, and then the world.
Poison Ivy: Just what I had in mind. Everything dead on earth, except us. A chance for Mother Nature to start again. Behold, the dawn of a new age. My mutant plants have the strength of the deadliest animals. Once you have frozen mankind, these babies will overrun the globe, and we shall rule them, for we will be the only two people left in the world.
Mr. Freeze: Adam and Evil!
–
Mr. Freeze: What killed the dinosaurs? The Ice Age!
–
Mr. Freeze: In this universe, there’s only one absolute… everything freezes!
–
Mr. Freeze: Cool party!
–
Mr. Freeze: I’ll kill you next time!
–
Mr. Freeze: [referring to Batman and Robin] Their bones will turn to ice! Their blood will freeze in my hands!
–
Mr. Freeze: Can you be cold, Batman? You have eleven minutes to thaw a bird. What will you do? Chase the villain or save the boy? Your emotions make you weak. That’s why this day is mine!
–
Mr. Freeze: If revenge is a dish best served cold, then put on your Sunday finest. It’s time to feast!
–
Mr. Freeze: Watch the numbers, Batman, for they are the harbingers of your doom. Can you feel it coming? The icy cold of space! Ahh! At 30,000 feet, your heart will *freeze* and be no more!
–
Mr. Freeze: Allow me to break the ice. My name is Freeze. Learn it well. For it’s the chilling sound of your doom.
–
Mr. Freeze: Let’s kick some ice!
–
Mr. Freeze: The Ice Man cometh!
–
[Batman is trying to melt the ice, when Freeze appears in the magnifying glass of the telescope]
Mr. Freeze: Tonight’s forecast… a freeze is coming!
–
Ms. B. Haven: Freezy, I’m feeling hot.
Mr. Freeze: I find that unlikely.
Ms. B. Haven: Okay, so my hair is brittle and my skin is dry. I’d wear the blizzards just to have you. You’re the most perfect man I’ve ever known. What do you say we heat things up?
Mr. Freeze: My passion thaws for my pride alone.
Ms. B. Haven: Ooh. Talk about your cold shoulder.
–
Mr. Freeze: [freezes Robin] Stay cool, Birdboy.
–

But seriously, stay warm.

Till we meet again,

JL

Tuesday is usually such a terrible day.  Monday is barely over, and you still have 3 whole days left of your godforsaken workweek.  In my opinion, Tuesday ranks second only to Thursday as the suckiest day of the week.  Thursday takes the cake due to its proximity to Friday.  Because just as a bodyguard, one must get through Thursday to get to Friday.  Nothing good ever happens on a Thursday…it is a useless day.

But I digress.  While most Tuesdays delve deep into “sucktitude,” this Tuesday is joyous.  For today is the 29th birthday of my dear brother, Chris.

Christopher Ryan Leonard was born on January 26th, 1981 in a little hospital in Pine Bluff, Arkansas.  It is actually the same hospital that I was born in, making my brother and I the two greatest men to have ever been birthed in Pine Bluff.  Don’t believe me?  Go visit sometime.  Right in front of City Hall, there is a statue of my brother and I…essentially a sculpture of myself kneeling whilst my gaze is held by something on the distant horizon.  Behind me, my brother stands tall, triumphant.  His gaze is also held by something on the horizon.  The symbolism of the statue is obvious.  Although the town of Pine Bluff bore us, our destinies shall lead us to greater, perhaps undiscovered worlds, both physically and metaphorically.

The inscription on the side conveys a similar, powerful message:

“Pine Bluff…Birthplace of Kings”

I haven’t said this enough on here, but I absolutely adore my family.  I drew an unbeatable hand.  My father is the greatest, most genuine, one of a kind, absolutely hilarious man this planet has ever known.  There has never been a better father.

If you speak to any of my friends, they will tell you how nice of a mother I have.  To this, my usual response would be “Yeah, but you don’t see her when she is pissed off,” but in actuality, they are right.  My mother’s heart is so full of compassion and kindness, that it almost pours out of her when she speaks.  I can say, without hesitation, that she is the kindest woman I have ever met, and there has never been a better mother.

Then, there is my brother.

When I was very little, I couldn’t say the name “Christopher” because my tiny lips and tongue prevented me from doing so.  So, I instead attempted to say the word “brother,” which of course came out sounding like “Bubby.”  This is the name I will always associate with my brother.  Calling him “Chris” sounds so unnatural to me that I can never see myself doing so.

My brother is five years my senior, and if not for him, I would have had a very different childhood.  For the record, I would not change a single second of my childhood.  I am grateful that I had him to help me get a grip on the different things that happened to me growing up.  It was nice to be able to bounce smart/dumb ideas off of him.  Don’t worry, he returns the volley right back to me.  Any bump in the road that either of us encountered only seemed to strengthen our brotherly bond, and brought us closer together.

The “statue in Pine Bluff” thing has been a running joke between my brother and I for the better part of a decade and is one of many inside jokes that we share.  Believe me, that isn’t the only one.  But some have more “F” words in them…

The fact is that my brother is a great person whom I have looked up to for my entire life.  He has known me as long as anyone on this earth has, and still gives me unconditional love and support.  He is also not afraid to tell it to me “like it is” or give me a nice thump in the scrotum if I get too “uppity,” but I have always felt like he is proud of me.  He is as kind as he is successful, and as funny as he is awesome, and when June 5 rolls around, I will be honored to have him at my side as I marry the girl of my dreams.  But today, he is my brother …and there has never been, nor will their ever be, a better one.

I love my brother, and today is his birthday.

Happy Birthday, dude.

Till we meet again,

JL

You have successfully made it to the new home of the Scumblog. This will be where all future posts will come from, so plan accordingly.  Props to my dear fiance, Jessi, for designing the tremendously unflattering header you see above these lines of “nonsense speak.” But seriously, I think it conveys the correct message.  Whilst we are on the subject of Jessi, skate on over to her blog at http://futuremrsleonard.blogspot.com/ You will not regret it.

Now… if yee be prepared both mentally and physically, pour yourself a glass of your favorite beverage, get out your bookmark, file this under “uninteresting,” strap in, and join me as we ride our blazing chariot into the next decade…and beyond! Sku!

Hopefully, I’m the last person to wish you a Happy New Year.  I trust anyone who reads this helped usher in the year 2010 by administering some much needed liver abuse with excessive alcohol consumption…and god bless you for that.  You, good sir (or ma’am), are a patriot.

While we are on the subject of the new year, I would like to say that the current year is pronounced “twenty ten,” as opposed to “two-thousand and ten.”  I feel like this should not even be up for discussion.  I mean, when was the last time you heard someone say “Last Action Hero, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, was the greatest movie of the year nineteen hundred and ninety three?”

Sure, the statement is true, but saying it like that sounds like it’s coming from one of Julius Caesar’s announcers right before 6 men murdered each other at the Coliseum.

Coliseum Announcer: “LET IT BE KNOWN TO ALL WHO SIT IN THE PRESENCE OF ALMIGHTY CAESAR…THAT ‘LAST ACTION HERO’, STARRING ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER, WAS THE GREATEST MOVIE OF THE YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED AND NINETY THREE!  GLADIATORS…AT YOUR READY!

(crowd begins to chant “Blood, Blood, Blood!”)

In a bit of exiting, non-Gladiator news since the new year, Jessi and I are currently in the market for a new computer, and I believe we are making the switch to a Macintosh machine.  I can almost feel your excitement about reading that because, honestly, who doesn’t like to read about normal, everyday purchases from people who aren’t them?!?! Who, I ask you? WHO?!

All it means to you is that shortly, there will be a considerable upgrade to the amount of user generated content on this blog.  The machine that I currently operate on is, in a word, garbage.  There are two items from my past in particular which will see light of day for the first time in several years upon arrival of the new computer.  I’m just saying…It’s gonna eat your lunch.

HINT: One video is a “hunting” show and the other is a cop drama.  Be on the lookout.

After two unsuccessful trips to see Avatar in IMAX 3D, I am unsure if I will ever actually see it in a movie theater.  My expectations remain low, so if I ever do see it, whatever James Cameron.  It certainly seems as if there are several other schmos that have paid for that G5 you fly around in.

It really is almost nauseating how successful of a movie director he is, but that is probably my overwhelming jealousy talking.  Whatever my feelings are to Mr. Cameron, he did bring the world Terminator 2: Judgment Day and True Lies.  For that, I am forever in his debt.

I have just noticed the amount of Arnold Schwarzenegger references I have written in the brief history of this blog.  Well, what kind of guide would I be if I did not provide you with real, tangible proof of the pure cinematic excellence of Arnold Schwarzenegger?  Ask and you shall receive, dear pilgrim…

Note the Sally Jessie Raphael reference, and Arnold’s contempt for animals.

As I watch that, I can actually feel new hairs sprouting on my chest.  If any of you are fans of the HBO series “Big Love,” you probably recognized Bill “Hendrickson” Paxton getting his face smashed by Arnold right as Bill is describing Arnold’s wife as having an “ass like a ten year old boy.”  Oh my. How enticing!  I have known my share of  “douche douchertons” over time, but no matter how sexist, demeaning, or objectifying they are of women, I cannot imagine a scenario in which “ass like a ten year old boy” would enter the vernacular.

For those of you who know me other than the words I write here, you are probably aware of my affinity for 80′s era heavy metal.  So allow me to give you your final, embarrassingly late, Christmas present.  It’s a little song called “I’ll be home for Christmas.”  Twisted Sister, take it away…

Till We Meet Again,

JL

Christmas Vacation: The shitter was indeed full, Randy Quaid. Full of Christmas cheer, legitimate side-splitting laughter, and literal human feces.

Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas: A 50 min Jim Henson puppet fest with enough genuine emotion in it to make me burst into tears. But I am also a substantial puss.

White Christmas: Bing Crosby and Danny “F’n” Kaye (see Christmas Vacation for that reference) croon and dance their way through what is a classic movie, even if Bing did beat the shit out of his kids.

The Santa Clause: I am currently adapting this work for the stage. I can see it now.
“Chester Leonard…is Tim Allen…as Scott Calvin…in ‘The Santa Clause.’” For those of you who haven’t met my Dad, if there were ever a movie about him, Tim Allen would play him. Except Dad is funnier.

Scrooged: GREAAAAAAT MOVIE! Bill Murray is awesome and this movie should never be touched. Perfection.

Die Hard: That’s right, we included Die Hard. Yippie Ki Yay! This movie gets love from me because it is the only one on our list that contains the song “Christmas in Hollis” by Run DMC.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: What is there to say? Claymation nostalgia at its finest. “Jingle, Jingle, Jingle.”

Ernest Saves Christmas: Co-MVPs of this movie? These two.

Muppet Family Christmas: Not to be confused with “Muppet Christmas Carol.” This is the best TV Christmas special of all time. The Muppets, Fraggle Rock, and Sesame Street all combine to form a triumvirate of childhood nostalgia.

PeeWee’s Christmas Special: The most twisted hour of television these eyes have ever seen, with enough awkward celebrity appearances to make you wince. K.D. Lang, Whoopi Goldberg, Charo, Jsa Jsa Gabor and Little Richard are brought into the fold with literally NO buildup. At one point, PeeWee is riding an imaginary sleigh in an imaginary winter wonderland when he suddenly squeals, “Look it’s Magic Johnson!” Magic is on screen for probably ten seconds and never heard from again.

Magic Johnson’s HIV meds occasionally give him elaborate hallucinations

Frosty the Snowman: With the rest of this lineup, can you blame me for saying that this movie was a tad underwhelming?

Polar Express: I enjoyed this movie a lot more than I thought I would, but be warned, its not for the Tom Hanks squeamish…

There… now you are caught up. If Jessi and I are able to complete this rigorous gauntlet prior to Christ Mass, you will be the first to know.

It is no secret that our country’s economic climate has seen better days. It appears that even our dear Santa Clause is not immune to budget cuts and downsizing, for he has been replaced by a less enduring, but equally recognizable symbol. That symbol…Shaquille O’Neal.
So for goodness sake, go buy presents for everyone you know, so Shaq can go back to missing free throws.

Till We Meet Again,

JL

Jessi and I decided to kick off our Christmas Movie/TV Marathon with the only decent Christmas movie of the new millennium: Elf. Believe it or not, this film is directed by Jon Favreau, but is oddly devoid of any appearance by Vince Vaughn. I think I speak for anyone who saw this movie when I say we dodged a major armor-piercing bullet on that one.

Think of it! They could have cross promoted that piece of sh*t movie “Fred Clause” with “Elf.” Vaughn could have played Santa’s fast-talking, smart ass brother who drinks alot and tries to have sex with Zooey Deschanel before Will Ferrell. Hell, he could try to nail every female in the movie and even a couple that are not… like Mrs. Clause! But I digress…

Since Elf is based on a popular kids book, the story is solid. It has enough appeal for kids and adults alike that most should enjoy. Will Ferrell manages to keep himself fully clothed for almost the entire movie, with the exception of a shower scene at the beginning and when he exposes his privates to Mary Steenburgen (whom Vince Vaughn could later nail).

There are several awesome cameos in Elf, including appearances by Andy Richter, Kyle Gass of Tenacious D, and the midget from 30 Rock. You know, the episode where Tina Fey’s character mistakes a “little person” for a child and then it leads to a date? His appearance is not wasted, however. After taking numerous insults from Will Ferrel about his “midgetocity,” our tiny friend gets to pummell Ferrell until his tiny fists are covered in blood. He then shoves his miniature body inside of Will’s and explodes out of it, sending pieces of bone, sinew, and flesh all over the conference room.

But the casting is pretty solid in all the major roles. I would have liked, however so have seen someone different playing the tough, but lovable African-American department store manager/Santa coordinator. I feel this role would have been better suited for a Michael Clarke Duncan, a Tyreese or even a Biz Markie.

“Oh, Snap! Get yo ass back to da North Pole!”

Jingle All the Way:

Gov. Schwarzenegger, we hardly knew ye… After watching this movie on night two of our marathon, I regretted watching it so soon in the month. Jingle All The Way is an awesome movie. I know what you’re thinking, “Well Jacob likes crappy action movies and he will watch any abomination that Arnold Schwarzenegger is in.” Right you are! But with a crappy action movie, you are guaranteed things like huge, ridiculous explosions, terrible one liners, and even worse acting.

This movie is a different beast entirely…

THIS movie happens to be a crappy FAMILY movie that stars the greatest action hero that ever lived. It combines the corny corn-fest of the family movie, and merges it with a huge, Austrian meat head and his son, Anakin Skywalker. Put these pieces together and “IT’S TEHRBO TIME!!!”

Jingle All The Way came out shortly after the gigantic “Tickle-Me-Elmo” craze of the 1990′s, and the plot was spawned because of it. Arnold plays the sucky father, who misses all of little Anakin’s childhood accomplishments. His one chance to make everything right with his son is to get him the most popular toy of the year: the amazingly Flash-like “Turbo Man.” Seriously, take off the jet-pack and it’s Flash. Gimme a break.

Arnold realizes it was, in fact, a tumor.

Not convinced? Well throw in the genius of Phil Hartman playing the asshole next door neighbor, and add a name that is so terrifying that he has practically been banned from all television and movies for the past decade. Lock your doors, friend…it’s SINBAD!!!!!

Playing the role of disgruntled Mailman “Myron,” Sinbad delivers (pun intended) several memorable comedic gems. In one scene, he claims to have a goofy, light-hearted, homemade explosive device, which ultimately detonates and blackens about 10 police officers, ala Wile E. Coyote. Because if there is one thing that wrangles in the family laughs, its terrorism. While wrestling with said policemen, Sinbad makes a joke about Sickle Cell Anemia. I’m not kidding. There is a Sickle Cell Anemia joke in this movie.

In all fairness to Sinbad, he has, in fact, not been banned from all forms of entertainment. In 2008, he once again stole America’s hearts when he played the unforgettable role of Bennie in the hit movie “Cuttin Da Mustard.” He also starred alongside Harland Williams in the ABC Family series “Slacker Cats.” See for yo’ self…

So shed no tears for ‘ol Sinbad. He’s doin’ JUST fine…

Till we meet again…

JL

This weekend, I dusted off my camouflage shirt, put personal hygiene on the back-burner, and ventured to the “deer woods” with my brother Chris and my father, his holiness Pope Chester III.
I am admittedly not the biggest hunter. However, anything that puts me in the forest with my dad, brother and about 100 cold Coors Light…sign me up, Jack. Seriously, put my name on the list. I’ll have that.

We seem to be on the cusp of the holiday season, and while I think its bogus that Santa gets to poke his big, jolly ass in on Halloween, I love Christmas and I am ready to start burning the advent candle at both ends. Even a leisurely stroll through Lowe’s can make one long for the smell of a freshly cut fraiser fir and some hot chocolate. Mmmmm…daddy like.

But for the love of baby Jesus, no egg nog. That has to be one of the grossest beverages ever conceived by man. I imagine its initial conception went something like this:

Two schmo’s are sitting on a couch. One schmo has just finished eating a very filling egg salad. Exhausted from inhaling the “delicious” eggs, he stands up and blows a huge, revolting fart in the other’s face. Unsure how to react to the pungent assault on his nostrils, the schmo takes in several breaths, looks to his giggling friend and says:”My god! If someone were to make that into a drink…it would be…DELICIOUS!”

That’s right. Egg nog was created as a raunchy egg fart in liquid form. Deal with it.

Jessi and I begin our christmas movie marathon next week. I will keep you posted.

It is November…if you are shaving your face, you are not a man.

Until we meet again,

JL