Pearls of Wisdoms and Mindless Rants


Everything hear is subject to change depending on life, mood, and alcoholic intake.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005




My neighbors did not see the humor in my Christmas lawn deer and my daughter is having nightmares and won't talk to me...Nobody has a fucking sense of humor anymore Posted by Picasa

Posted by MrV :: 9:10 AM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Monday, November 28, 2005

Jumping on the bandwagon

Walk the line.... When I first heard this movie was being made I began to prepare for a nostalgia suck fest . Knowing the pretenders could now slither out of the of the woodworks mad it all the more dreadful.

I can admit I came to Johnny Cash late in his life, his retreated sound under the tutelage of Rick Rubin was focused a bit at my demographic " late teens, post grunge, a bit smarter than the average bear" and I enjoyed what I heard. His remake of the NIN cover Hurt was by far better than thoriginalal and spoke volumes to me at the time and still does in so many ways. His past had been scrubbed with the grit of nostalgia. Suddenly he was the man in black, the one who sang like a rabid south Baptist minister. He cast down fire and brimstone, and like it or not, it was a damn cool.

Later I discovered a bit more about the man, who he was, as opposed to who we lead to assume he was. I saw the heartbreak through documentary and magazine article and "Cash" by Johnny Cash. I saw a man who represented sin to show people the light, who was willing to look back into the darkness time and time again to reassure himself that he did have the strength to keep walking on, and to show others that it could be done.

Yesterday when I woke up and knew I would see "Walk the Line." And I was a bit bitter because I knew this movie was going to sell Cash the way Cash was meant to be sold, perhaps better than he ever could have sold himself. And much like "Ray," this film would bring the undeserving into the light of greatness, unleashing a wave of faux nostalgia, the kind of people Nick Hornby described as "shaving their heads and saying they always were punk."

So, as I prepare for the bandwagon I can only say this.

Walk the Line will win "Best Picture" and if Reese Witherspoon (yummy) doesn't get a strong nod for Best Actress, well, the academy will be even more of a lame ass, guttless, and completelyly devoid entity.

Posted by MrV :: 3:36 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Polar Express is Political Propaganda

My wife bought home the the film "Polar Express" on DVD. It was a shity film.

In short the film was shit. It was a fucking shit film. Totally and utterly worthless shit. A complete wast of fifteen dollars and a hour and a half of my live completly wasted.

Polar Express is an animated film with Tom Hanks playing one of the voices. I hope it was worth it tom....you fucking sell out! I found it hard to watch this shit film, at one point I had my head in my hands. I was thinking how shity it was.

To summarise the film was shit. To concude it is shit. My recommendation is do not watch it because it is shit.

I wanted to punch the drippy little boy. I hated the whole film. Basically the film was about a boy who didn't really believe in Father Christmas and on Christmas Eve a magical train called the "Polar Express" turned up outside his house and he got on board. He was taken to the north pole to meet Santa and was given a special christmas presant, a sleigh bell.

The boy had trouble at first to see Father Christmas because he didn't really believe in him, but after a run with a sleigh bell he soon believed how real Father Christmas was. The boy was made to understand that "seeing is believing, and sometimes the things you can't see are just as real" and "the christmas spirit resides within you".

What is more concerning is that our children are watching this brainwashing shit. the film basically makes a human second guess themselves when they are presented with some bullshit. It is a complete front to brainwash children. It is directly related towards politics. The child has been made to believe in complete shit, and then when the grow up they will continue to believe in shit and this is what the politicians want!!!! they want to talk shit and have the younger generation accept everything they are told.

Posted by MrV :: 11:20 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Friday, November 18, 2005



Dear ???????????????????

I must tell you this is a long time coming.

I am not sure where thing went wrong...Perhaps long ago when dealing with the shit that was bestowed upon us by the great an all mighty card shark we choose top deal with things differently and we stumbled down different roads..........??????

The sadest part of the whole thing is we where once very close, so close some people would say "inseparable" but that was then....Many years ago.

You don't impress me any more; in fact you have not for so long I can not remember the last time you did. Your story, saga, novel, fairy tail,....Life, lie or what ever you want to call it as for some time been the source of much ridicule from me. It has given me a constant source of entertainment as I laugh at you.

Your infirmities amuse me.....I find them laughable. Your conquered quest are so bull shit I don't know where to begin. Your supper star status among the little people....Is only in your head. YOU HAVE NOT BEEN THERE.....And most of all you never where so quit pretending.

The sad part is that you are perhaps to far gone in you fairy tale to realize it and ever find a way to redeem yourself. But I won't let you try to rewrite history in order to redeem your pathetic self esteem or to impress the week who surround you. Tell it like it is and or was ...Or shut the FUCK UP!!!

you make me sad. I mock you..... I laugh at you.... I look down at you.....And in many ways I am embarrassed by you. But I still love you..............

Life goes on, nobody cares about the past no cares about the bullshit. In fact the less said the better. I learned that long ago.....Actually I lie I just finally realized that but in fact it has been a reality for while...It finally just slapped the shit out of me.

The hermits in our life should not be the role models we seek to be, nether should the boxers or those who are weak..... just be yourself and don't try so hard to be somebody else.

Till then I will continue to mock you.
HA HA HA HA

Posted by MrV :: 1:12 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Tuesday, November 15, 2005



So I just finished writing in my journal.... I am still thinking about creating another web sight and keeping it anonymous perhaps using a pseudo name..."Something cool Max McMasters" because pen and paper are so passie...but yet they are altertnative...And I am a non conformist Just like all the other ones out there...Look at me I am so uncool and anti establishment

time to change the channel because Leno is a fag... A so not funny fag.

I think I need to get my IBM laptop waxed! I found a lil' Black hair poking out of the left speaker grill. I thought it might be one of my strays from the goatee, but no... I pulled it and like a magic trick, kept pulling and pulling.

I watched it slowly slither out of one of the small needle hole size perforations in the speaker plate left of the keyboard like an ingrown hair ripped from it's pore.

This hair has to be two feet long! Not one of mine! I fantasize about CSI-ing it via DNA to some hot single chick assembling my machine and how the Universe could bring us together as lost souls reunited. A perfect story for us to tell on Oprah!

Posted by MrV :: 11:30 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Sunday, November 13, 2005



A few months ago I took up writing a personal journal. It was something I did as a kid and it was rather therapeutic....It was my grandfather who inspired me to to it ...He was writing his own life story at the time ... Back before his brain melted.

Maybe it was a good idea maybe not over time me journals morhped into a outlet for my anger...I am and always have been very angry.....

I stopped writing when I married my daughters mom.... I think my mom latter found my old journals and read them then threw them out....

I have family that read this blog.....IF I DIE AND YOU FIND MY JOURNALS....THROW THEM AWAY!!!! DO NOT READ THEM YOU WILL BE DISAPPOINTED...And consider me less than you already do.

It is family that you love the most and therefore will dissapiont the most....They intern will also disappoint you THE MOST!!!

This blog is starting to suck!!!! Maybe I wills tart a new one and keep it anonymous?????? Who knows and who cares. I have alot to say but no one is listing....WHY SHOULD THEY......Who am I?

I honestly have now idea who the fuck I am..... I am just a number whether in life or at work.

This blog will die someday...Maybe soon. A few more things to be said. Some things should not be said.....So you won't read those.

bla bla bla bla bla bla bla......

Posted by MrV :: 6:36 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Piss Off

I wish I had a rocket launcher with a nuclear warhead.

I'd settle for bottle rocket and a dirty bomb.

I stopped off at my local mosque, went inside and farted.

I had one all stored up when I was driving over there, but I was so angry and nervous I messed my pants.

I didn't plan it out right.

Things aren't going right with me. Maybe just a hug will do...

Somedays I like to see if I can drive from my home in the valley all the way into Hollywood without using my brakes.

Now, I just try and see how long I can go without breaking down and crying.

Posted by MrV :: 9:07 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Monday, November 07, 2005

We have becomea nationtion of pussies!!!!!

It wasn't always this way, of course. There was a time when men put their signatures to a document, knowing full well that this single act would result in their execution if captured, and in the forfeiture of their property to the State. Their wives and children would be turned out by the soldiers, and their farms and businesses most probably given to someone who didn't sign the document.

There was a time when men went to their certain death, with expressions like "You all can go to hell. I'm going to Texas." (Davy Crockett, to the House of Representatives, before going to the Alamo.)

There was a time when men went to war, sometimes against their own families, so that other men could be free. And there was a time when men went to war because we recognized evil when we saw it, and knew that it had to be stamped out.

There was even a time when a President of the United States threatened to punch a man in the face and kick him in the balls, because the man had the temerity to say bad things about the President's daughter's singing.

We're not like that anymore.

Now, little boys in grade school are suspended for playing cowboys and Indians, cops and crooks, and all the other familiar variations of "good guy vs. bad guy" that helped them learn, at an early age, what it was like to have decent men hunt you down, because you were a lawbreaker.

Now, men are taught that violence is bad -- that when a thief breaks into your house, or threatens you in the street, that the proper way to deal with this is to "give him what he wants", instead of taking a horsewhip to the rascal or shooting him dead where he stands.

Now, men's fashion includes not a man dressed in a three-piece suit, but a tight sweater worn by a man with breasts.

Now, warning labels are indelibly etched into gun barrels, as though men have somehow forgotten that guns are dangerous things.

Now, men are given Ritalin as little boys, so that their natural aggressiveness, curiosity and restlessness can be controlled, instead of nurtured and directed. And then when our President, who happens to have been a qualified fighter pilot, lands on an aircraft carrier wearing a flight suit, and is immediately dismissed with words like "swaggering", "macho" and the favorite epithet of Euro girly-men, "cowboy".

Of course he was bound to get that reaction -- and most especially from the Press in Europe, because the process of male wussification Over There is almost complete.

How did we get to this?

In the first instance, what we have to understand is that America is first and foremost, a culture dominated by one figure: Mother. It wasn't always so: there was a time when it was Father who ruled the home, worked at his job, and voted.

But in the twentieth century, women became more and more involved in the body politic, and in industry, and in the media -- and mostly, this has not been a good thing. When women got the vote, it was inevitable that government was going to become more powerful, more intrusive, and more "protective" (ie. more coddling), because women are hard-wired to treasure security more than uncertainty and danger. It was therefore inevitable that their feminine influence on politics was going to emphasize (lowercase "s") social security.

I am aware of the fury that this statement is going to arouse, and I don't give a SHIT!! What I care about is the fact that since the beginning of the twentieth century, there has been a concerted campaign to denigrate men, to reduce them to figures of fun, and to render them impotent, figuratively speaking.

I'm going to illustrate this by talking about TV, because TV is a reliable barometer of our culture.

In the 1950s, the TV Dad was seen as the lovable goofball -- perhaps the beginning of the trend -- BUT he was still the one who brought home the bacon, and was the main source of discipline (think of the line: "Wait until your father gets home!").

From that, we went to this: the Cheerios TV ad.

Now, for those who haven't seen this crap, I'm going to go over it, from memory, because it epitomizes everything I hate about the campaign to wussify men. The scene opens at the morning breakfast table, where the two kids are sitting with Dad at the table, while Mom prepares stuff on the kitchen counter. The dialogue goes something like this:

Little girl (note, not little boy): Daddy, why do we eat Cheerios? Dad: Because they contain fiber, and all sorts of stuff that's good for the heart. I eat it now, because of that. LG: Did you always eat stuff that was bad for your heart, Daddy? Dad (humorously): I did, until I met your mother. Mother (not humorously): Daddy did a lot of stupid things before he met your mother.

Now, every time I see that TV ad, I have to be restrained from shooting the TV with a .45 Colt. If you want a microcosm of how men have become less than men, this is the perfect example.

What Dad should have replied to Mommy's little dig: Yes, Sally, that's true: I did do a lot of stupid things before I met your mother. I even slept with your Aunt Ruth a few times, before I met your mother.

That's what I would have said, anyway, if my wife had ever attempted to castrate me in front of the kids like that. But that's not what men do, of course. What this guy is going to do is smile, finish his cereal, and then go and bang his secretary, who doesn't try to cut his nuts off on a daily basis.

Then, when the affair is discovered, people are going to rally around the castrating witch called his wife, and call him all sorts of names. He'll lose custody of his kids, and they will be brought up by our ultimate modern-day figure of sympathy: The Single Mom.

You know what? Some women deserve to be single moms!!!!!!

When I first started bloging, I think my primary aim was to blow off steam at the stupidity of our society. Because I have fairly set views on what constitutes right and wrong, I have no difficulty in calling most liberal Democrats like John Kerry, for example, a bunch of liars and hypocrites. But most of all, I blog the way I do it because I love being a man. Amongst other things, I blog about guns, self-defense, politics, beautiful women, sports, warfare, hunting, trucks, fast cars, and power tools -- all the things that being a man entails. All this stuff gives me pleasure.

And it doesn't take much to see when all the things I love are being threatened: for instance, when Tim Allen's excellent comedy routine on being a man was reduced to a that stupid sitcom Home Improvement. The show should have been called Man Improvement, because that's what every single plotline entailed: turning a man into a "better" person, instead of just leaving him alone to work on restoring the vintage sports car in his garage. I stopped watching the show after about four episodes.

("The Man Show" was better, at least for the first few seasons -- men leering at chicks, men messing around with ridiculous games like "pin the bra on the boobies", men having beer-drinking competitions, and women on trampolines. Excellent stuff, only not strong enough. I gave up watching it, when Jimmy Kimmel and Adam Carrola left because it's plain that the idea had been subverted by girly-men, and turned into a parody of itself.)

Finally, we come to the TV show which to my mind epitomizes everything bad about what we have become: Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. Playing on the Homo Channel, ooops I mean Bravo Channel, this piece of shit has taken over the popular culture by storm (and so far, the only counter has been the wonderful South Park episode which took it apart for the utter CRAP it is). I'm sorry, but the premise of the show nauseates me. A bunch of fags trying to "improve" ordinary men into something "better" (ie. more acceptable to women): changing the guy's clothes, his home decor, his music -- for FUCK'S sake, what kind of girly-man would allow these simpering butt-bandits to change his life around?

Yes, the men are, by and large, slobs. Big fucking deal. Last time I looked, that's normal. Men are slobs, and that only changes when women try to civilize them by marriage. That's the natural order of things. You know the definition of homosexual men I grew up with? "Men with small dogs who own very tidy apartments." Real men, on the other hand, have big damnd mean-ass dogs: Rhodesian ridgebacks, bull terriers and Rottweilers, or else working dogs like pointers or retrievers which go hunting with them and slobber all over the furniture. Women own lapdogs. Which is why women are trying to get dog-fighting and cock-fighting banned -- they'd ban boxing too, if they could -- because it's "mean and cruel". No shit, Shirley.

Hell, I don't like the idea of fighting dogs, either, but I don't have a problem with men who do. Dogs and cocks fight. So do men. No wonder we have an affinity for it. My blog has always been pretty damned popular with men, and in the beginning, this really surprised me, because I didn't think I was doing anything special.

That's not what I think now. I have dozens of emails and comments from men saying stuff like "Yes! I agree! I was so angry when I read about [insert atrocity of choice], but I thought I was the only one." No, you're not alone, my friends, and nor am I. Out there, there is a huge number of men who are sick of it. We're sick of being made figures of fun and ridicule; we're sick of having girly-men like journalists, advertising agency execs and movie stars decide on "what is a man"; we're sick of women treating us like children, and we're really sick of girly-men politicians who pander to women by passing an ever-increasing raft of Nanny laws and regulations (the legal equivalent of public-school Ritalin), which prevent us from hunting, racing our cars and motorcycles, smoking, flirting with women at the office, getting into fistfights over women, shooting criminals and doing all the fine things which being a man entails.

When Annika Sorenstam was allowed to play in that tournament on the men's PGA tour, all the men should have refused to play -- Vijay Singh was the only one with balls to stand up for a principle, and he was absolutely excoriated for being a "chauvinist". Bull!!! He wasn't a chauvinist, he was being a man. All the rest of the players -- Woods, and Mickleson, and the lot -- are girls by comparison. And, needless to say, Vijay isn't an American, nor a European, which is probably why he still has a pair balls hanging between his legs, and they're not hanging on the wall as his wife's trophy.

Fuck this, I'm sick of it. I don't see why I should put up with this nonsense any longer -- hell, I don't see why any man should put up with this any longer. I don't see why men should have become feminized, accept that we allowed it to happen -- and you know why we let it happen?
Because it's just easier to do so. Unfortunately, we've allowed it to go too far, and our maleness has become too wussified for words.

At this point, I could have gone two ways: the first would be to say, "...and I don't know if we'll get it back. The process has become too entrenched, the cultural transformation of men into little girls has become part of the social fabric, and there's not much we can do about it."

But I'm not going to do that. To quote John Belushi (who was, incidentally, a real man): "Did we quit when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?"

Well, I'm not going to quit. Screw that.

One of the characteristics of the non-pussiefied man (and this should strike fear into the hearts of women and girly-men everywhere) is that he never quits just because the odds seem overwhelming. Omaha Beach, guys.

By God! I want a real man as President -- not an Al Gore type, who had to hire a consultant to show him how to be an Alpha male, and french-kiss his wife on live TV to "prove" to the world that he was a man, when we all knew that real men don't have to do that crap. Or John Kerry, who wouldn't know a real battle scar if he ever saw one. A wimp who has to marry rich, domineering, ass ugly women to make him successful.

And I want the Real Man President to surround himself with other Real Men, like Rumsfeld, and yes, Condi Rice (who is more of a Real Man than those numnuts Colin Powell and Norman Mineta). I want our government to be more like Dad -- kind, helpful, but not afraid to punish us when we screw up, instead of helping us excuse our actions. I want our government of real men to start rolling back the Nanny State, in all its horrible manifestations of over-protectiveness, intrusiveness and "Mommy Knows Best What's Good For You" regulations.

I want our culture to become more male -- not the satirical kind of male, like The Man Show, or the cartoonish figures of Stallone, or Van Damme, or even Arnold. I mean there movies are harmless fun but hey, we want the REAL men back in movies. We want more John Waynes, Humphrey Bogarts, Robert Mitchums, Bruce Willises, and Clint Eastwoods.

Never mind that it's simplistic -- we like simple, we are simple, we are men -- our lives are uncomplicated, and we like it that way. For example, We Were Soldiers was a great movie, and you know why? Because you could have cut out all the female parts, and it still would have been a great movie, because it was about Real Men.

Try cutting out all the female parts in a Woody Allen movie -- you'd end up with the opening and closing credits. We absolutely loathe chick movies about feelings and relationships and all that feminine jive.

I want our literature to become more male, less female. Men shouldn't buy "self-help" books unless the subject matter is car maintenance, golf swing improvement or how to disassemble a Browning shotgun. We don't improve ourselves, we improve our stuff.

And finally, I want men everywhere to go back to being Real Men. To open doors for women, to drive fast cars, to smoke cigars after a meal, to get drunk occasionally and, in the words of Col. Jeff Cooper, one of the last of the Real Men: "to ride tall and proud, shoot straight, and speak the truth."

In every sense of the word. We know what the word "is" means. Because that's all that being a Real Man involves. You don't have to become a cartoon male, either: I'm not going back to stoning women for adultery like those Muslim's do, nor am I suggesting we support that perversion of being a Real Man, gangsta rap artists (those pussies -- they wouldn't last thirty seconds against a couple of genuine tough guys that I know).

Speaking of rap music, do you want to know why more White boys buy that crap than Black boys do? You know why rape is such a problem on college campuses? Why binge drinking is a problem among college freshmen? It's a reaction: a reaction against being wussified. And I understand it, completely. Young males are aggressive, they do fight amongst themselves, they are destructive, and all this does happen for a purpose. Because only the strong men propagate.

And women know it. You want to know why I know this to be true? Because powerful men still attract women. Women, even liberal women, swooned over George Bush in a naval aviator's uniform. Donald Trump still gets access to some of the most beautiful women available, despite looking like a medieval gargoyle. Donald Rumsfeld, if he wanted to, could sleep with 90% of all women over 50, and a goodly portion of younger ones too. And he won't. Because Rummy's been married to the same woman for fifty years, and he wouldn't toss that away for a quickie. He's a Real Man. No wonder the Euros hate and fear him. We'd better get more like him, we'd better become more like him, because if we don't, men will become a footnote to history.

Posted by MrV :: 7:37 AM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Pour me another ... it's going to be a long night

Insomnia fucking sucks ass. When I was I kid I could have slept through the god dam second coming, now I am lucky if I can get a decent sleep.

I have seen a number of sleep inducing products available to those who suffer from insomnia . Many of them are advertised on the television, and all seem to have a few key points in common. "Do not take unless you can devote enough time for a full night's sleep", and "a full night is considered to be eight hours".

But, unless you are a chronic sufferer, of which I am sure there are many - how often do you know you're going to have a hard time falling asleep early enough where you know to take on of these drugs?

I naively bought some over the counter sleeping meds after my fourth or fifth bout with insomnia. Using them has been less than desirable because it is generally well into my attempt at sleep when I realize I'm just not going to get to fall asleep. If I took an eight hour sleeping med at 2:00 am, even if I was able to fight off the effects after say, six hours, I'd still be hours late for work.

So here's my challenge to the drug industry: In order to properly care for occasional insomnia sufferers, develop a four hour sleeping pill. I guarantee you'll sell billions.

Thank you, and I'll happily accept whatever small percentage of profits you deem appropriate for this wonderful idea. A free supply would be nice, too.

Until then I will settle for some Bacardi, mixed with a bit of NyQuil . After drinking a couple of these cocktails, I can saw some serious logs.

Posted by MrV :: 2:18 AM :: |
---------------oOo---------------

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Desperate MrV

Am I wrong or is Marcia Cross from "Desperate Housewives" the most beautiful woman in the whole wide World? I never get to watch the show, but I saw this picture and thought she is so beautiful she's freakish. It's like in the spectrum of appearance she's push the envelope of attractiveness till it's merged with the other end, which is near my neighborhood. The dodgy end.

I'm just freakish looking. Not that I want to look like her, but I don't mind looking AT her. I used to fantasize as a kid in school, How could I get the hottest girl in school to pay attention to me?

At First the fantasies all seemed to involve kidnapping, but later I got realistic and believed that if I could get a hair sample I might be able to clone a sex slave version of her. Cloning just started being popular then and it seemed so possible to a 12 year old.

Then it occurred to me that even hot girls like to laugh, so I knew I could make her laugh, cause this one cheerleader laughed at me all the time. Usually it was her pointing and laughing at me. I was a class clown. Girls are way more mature than boys and some realize once the beauty fades, What will there be to do then, but laugh?

I was thinking of the girls I had crushes on earlier today and wondering what they were doing these days. I heated up some left overs wondering who they'd be eating with, did they have nice husbands, lots of kids, did they cook great meals...I took my plate of reheated Alice Springs Chicken from Outhouse Steakback and crawled into bed to watch the DVD, "Rod Serling: Submitted for Your Approval," it's a good documentary about the life of the creator of, "The Twilight Zone."It's kind of a sad story about creating art, selling out, losing your soul...

I fell asleep sad and woke up a few hours later when I rolled over and put my face into the plate of cold Garlic Roasted Mashed Potatoes that I couldn't finish and left sitting in the bed. I'm sure they are not all Winners, but I do wonder if those I grew up with have better lives than I have right now.

Posted by MrV :: 9:41 PM :: |
---------------oOo---------------