7/5: Jogging My Memory On The Fourth
6:15 p.m.
• So how was my Fourth of July? From Monday:
Better Half: “Let’s do something for the Fourth.”
Me: “Let’s not.”
“I want to go to the zoo.”
“Why? You’re going to the zoo next week with the niece and nephew.”
“I want to see the baby tiger cubs.”
“We have three cats.”
“We’re going.”
So on the way to the zoo, we find out that the main road to get to said animal hangout is shut off, probably for some hippie parade. We took a side road and hoped we could end up somewhere near the zoo. Did I mention the Shittsburgh zoo is located next to fucking ghettos and shit? Well, after a few turns we weren’t in Kansas anymore. I wished we were in Kansas. There would have been much less black people giving us thug looks and eying up our phat rims. We decided to turn around and backtrack, hoping we could get one of the fine city’s public servants to let us know what the hell to do. Well, when we got back to where the zoo road was shut off, we realized that now even MORE of the road was closed, and the officers were less than helpful. We took a road that we knew and go on during our daily commute home from work. As we were driving this road we noticed there was quite a bit of smoke a few blocks down from us. Mrs. kkk then said…
“Are they having a barbeque?”
No. They’re having an accident. A really bad one. I have no idea what happened, but some car was plastered against a telephone pole, and some young white guy was lying on the street. There was a crowd, lots of screaming and an old, white cop trying to direct traffic. Oh, and the totaled car was on fire. The cop asked if we had a fire extinguisher. We didn’t. Then we came to a familiar sight. A few weeks ago, this house was hanging a banner, accusing some guy named George Hall of stalking. Well, the banner was taken down a little while ago, but now it was back up.
Apparently, the guy is back to stalking.
Mrs. kkk was still hell-bent on going to the zoo, so we took the Parkway and tried getting to said zoo in this direction. Well, guess where we ended up? Yep, right back to that shut down road, except this time even MORE of the road was closed. Pissed off, we retreated back to suburbia and decided to see a movie. What was the movie? The fourth Die Hard film.
Now I’ve made some comments in the Die Hard thread about my concern for the PG-13 rating. After all, the suckitude that was “Alien v. Predator” achieved a similar rating when it should have been made to appeal to an R-rated audience, but whatever. I went with Die Hard because that was the longest-running of the available films and I wanted to get my money’s worth (a Jew to the end, I know). I’ll tell you what, how the hell did this get a PG-13 rating? Now I could talk about the actual movie and my thoughts on the fourth installment in the Die Hard series, but it’s so much more entertaining to talk about the animals I had to share the same building with for these few hours.
Let’s start with the fellow Die Hard movie-goers. Now this cinema was packed, which isn’t surprising considering the Fourth of July. However, what makes this aggravating is that all the sheeple just stand around the one or two ushers who rip tickets waiting for their movie to start seating. This of course prevents anyone from getting through to see their movie, which is already seating. And of course, there is an ELECTRIC MARQUEE on the wall TELLING people which movies/times are currently being seated and which others aren’t quite ready for seating yet. NOBODY LOOKS AT THIS BOARD! It’s not that hard. Oh, there’s “Die Hard.” Oh, there’s 4 p.m.. Oh, there’s “Now Seating.” Get the fuck out of my way people. Actually, I didn’t bowl over these old people in my way because I gave them a warning when I said out loud to Mrs. kkk, “So do you want to lead in the plowing efforts to get to our movie or should I do it this time?” The old people in front of me wandering around in small circles got the hint and parted to the side. The usher ripped our tickets and said, “Down this hallway. Fourth door to your left. It’s the one without a marquee on because it’s broken.” As we started walking down the hall, I heard the usher say the same thing to the people behind us. Mrs. kkk decided to go to the bathroom and I stood by the Die Hard auditorium door waiting for her. While waiting, several groups of people strolled by with a look of confusion. Yep. They didn’t pay attention when the usher said the Die Hard marquee was down. The better half re-emerged and two separate groups of people asked us where the 4 p.m. Die Hard feature was. Mrs. kkk pointed to the auditorium and said the usher told us it was the one with the broken marquee. Each time the people replied, “Well he didn’t tell US that.”
Oh bullshit. If there’s one thing I know it’s that movie patrons are among some of the dumbest people out there. Once an usher rips their ticket the customers zone out and pay no attention whatsoever to whatever the employee says after that. The better half said to me that when she was in the ladies room, someone was complaining to her about not being told where the Die Hard feature was being played. Yeah. Oh, and when we got our seats I went back out to get a drink and Junior Mints. When I passed this poor usher to and from the snack stand, guess what I heard him say each time to customers.
“Down this hallway. Fourth door to your left. It’s the one without a marquee on because it’s broken.”
So the movie started after 30 minutes of commercials and previews. Look, I don’t really mind wading through previews and shit because that just gives people who showed up late the chance to find a seat before the film starts, but come on – don’t play the same commercials I see on TV on the silver screen. Can’t we be somewhat creative? Oh, and there were two previews to films dealing with the WAR ON TERROR. Christ, people go to the movies to escape this shit. The only saving moment came during some commie “Lions and Lambs” piece of shit that Robert Redford made where Tom Cruise, who I guess is playing some warmonger, says some line like, “If you *do something* the TERRORISTS HAVE WON.” This prompted me to say, “If you don’t come out of the closet, the TERRORISTS HAVE ALREADY WON,” prompting a snicker from Mrs. kkk.
The other highlight of the movie-going experience came afterward when I went to take a number one in the men’s room. After I was done, I returned out to the lobby hall and said the following to the two ushers who were just finished cleaning up the Die Hard auditorium.
“Someone just pooped on the floor in the cripple stool.”
Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people? And no, it wasn't me that did it.
3 p.m.
• So this sucker client asked my co-worker on Monday to transfer from her account $6,000 because she was having medical work done to her and needed the money by today. My co-worker placed the necessary form/parperwork on my idiot boss’ desk Monday morning at 10 a.m. because he has to see and approve EVERY transaction we make. He finally got around to reading this request … at 11 a.m. today. Bwahahahahaha.
• Would you believe this shit?
The 24-year-old son of former Vice President Al Gore was arrested for drug possession on Wednesday after he was stopped for speeding in his hybrid Toyota Prius, a sheriff's official said.
Al Gore III -- whose father is a leading advocate of policies to fight global warming -- was driving his environmentally friendly car at about 100 miles per hour on a freeway south of Los Angeles when he was pulled over by an Orange County sheriff's deputy at about 2:15 a.m.
The deputy smelled marijuana and searched the car, said sheriff's spokesman Jim Amormino. The search turned up a small amount of marijuana, along with prescription drugs including Valium, Xanax, Vicodin, Adderall and Soma. There were no prescriptions found, he said.
Al Gore Jr. was going 100 mph in a PRIUS! And just how much gas was wasted by him going vroom-vroom? The terrorists won this round for sure.
10 a.m.
• Wha-?
President Sarkozy has fallen foul of intellectuals and critics who see his passion for jogging as un-French, right-wing and even a ploy to brainwash his citizens.
Attacks on Mr Sarkozy’s pastime, which he has made a symbol of his presidency, began on the internet as soon as he bounded up the steps of the Elysée Palace in shorts when he took office in May. That moment has become the icon of his hyperenergetic administration. The grumbling has now moved to television and the press.
“Is jogging right wing?” wondered Libération, the left-wing newspaper. Alain Finkelkraut, a celebrated philosopher, begged Mr Sarkozy on France 2, the main state television channel, to abandon his “undignified” pursuit. He should take up walking, like Socrates, Arthur Rimbaud, the poet, and other great men, said Mr Finkelkraut.
“Western civilisation, in its best sense, was born with the promenade. Walking is a sensitive, spiritual act. Jogging is management of the body. The jogger says I am in control. It has nothing to do with meditation.”
Mr Sarkozy’s habit infuriates his critics – and some supporters – because he flaunts it so hard. Le running du Président, often clad in his favourite NYPD T-shirt, has become a ritual, like King Louis XIV’s rides at Versailles. He has practised it at summits in Brussels and Germany and he is looking forward to a bonding jog with José Socrates, the Prime Minister of Portugal, which took over the European Union presidency this week.
Until “Speedy Sarko” won office, French heads of state shunned physical exercise in public. The late François Mitterrand was privately partial to golf, but the reflective stroll was his public trademark. Jacques Chirac, Mr Sarkozy’s predecessor, was famous for his energy, but in public he moved at walking pace and in suit and tie.
Le jogging, originally known as le footing and now more fashionably as le running, caught on in France, as elsewhere, in the 1980s and eight million claim to indulge. But Mr Sarkozy has rekindled a French suspicion that the habit is for self-centred individualists such as the Americans who popularised it. “Jogging is of course about performance and individualism, values that are traditionally ascribed to the Right,” Odile Baudrier, editor of V02 magazine, a sports publication, told Libération. Patrick Mignon, a sports sociologist, noted that French intellectuals had always held sport in contempt, while totalitarian regimes cultivated physical fitness.
Beyond the self-promotion, some commentators see something sinister in the media fascination with le jogging de Supersarko. The “hypnotic” daily images of presidential running are not innocent, said Daniel Schneidermann, a media critic. Mr Sarkozy uses the video images of his jogging as “a major weapon of media manipulation”, said Mr Schneidermann.
Some experts have questioned Mr Sarkozy’s running style and say that he is not helped by being overweight.
Renaud Longuèvre, a coach of champion athletes, told L’Equipe magazine that Mr Sarkozy bends too far forward, his stride is off, his arms dangle and his feet hit the ground the wrong way. The coach advised the President to get his feet checked, strengthen his abdominal and posterior muscles and “check your diet because it seems you are carrying a slight excess in weight”
Perhaps the upset Frenchies aren't used to seeing one of their own jogging in Paris rather than away from Paris when the Germans come to pay them a visit.
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