What The Hell Does Rant Mean?

I must have way too much time on my hands. Since I’ve started blogging, I haven’t missed a day. Okay I admit that sometimes my subject matter’s lame, but I do it anyway. You know why? Because I never stick to anything! EVER!! So I have made a vow to stick to this. I do see problems in the future. Like when I go out of town and well, you know, being lazy. What am I saying here? I’m boring.

I played poker yesterday. I never play poker. I hate poker. This is my problem. I always want to stay in the game no matter how crappy my hand is. I could have a 2,4,5,7 an 8 all in different suits and I’d bet my mother’s wheelchair on it. So I lose a lot. Once I did throw down the cards and say, “I fold, like a hooker you punched in the stomach because you wanted your money back to buy a Pepsi.” I was proud of myself.

One small step for Jeremy one giant step for whoever’s in the way.

Daylight Savings Day is my least favorite day of the year. Spring ahead. Fall Behind. I long for fall behind. I kill for fall behind. That one marvelous day when you can say, “Screw you clock, I’m going to sleep another hour.” Now the clock is getting revenge. From 1:59 straight to 3:00. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Now it’s his turn to say, “You son of a bitch. This for hitting my snooze button so many times it’s now a sn ze button. For throwing me against the wall on those fuzzy hungover mornings. Get up you douchebag!” It sits there with a menacing 3:00 flashing. It’s two big open zeroes staring at you, daring you to pick it up and launch it across the room. What can you do? It’s his day today.

Damn DST anyway! Come eight months, you’re dead, you douchebag!

When I was in high school we had dances. Strange you think? No, it’s a fairly common practice throughout high schools everywhere. So you are probably familiar with dance royalty, i.e. Homecoming Queen, Prom King and Queen, etc. Well usually the type of people who win these monarchies are the snotty popular crowd. I’ve never cared for them. Every year at my school we had a Christmas dance. I forget what’s it called. The Winter Festival, something like that. Well the royalty was all guys at this dance, which was an interesting change. They had several royal titles, like Mr. Scrooge and King Christmas. Well the nominations came out that year and there was my name. Jeremy Jacobson nominated for Mr. Snowman. There were three nominees for each category. In mine I was competing against Gerard King and Bretton Harvigsten(Who happened to be one of those bully jocks. This has nothing to do with the story. I just thought I’d point out what an asshole he was.) Well I was a little shocked til I realized we were all “portly”. So I thought, “Oh I can see the student body presidency think up the nomination list now. “Let’s see, who’s really fat like a snowman?” “Jeremy broke a chair the other day he’s so fat, so he’s in” What jerks!”

Anyway. Before voting was to happen they held an assembly in which each group would compete in some event. Well the snowmen had an obstacle course. It was set up so that you had to put on a snowsuit and boots, get on a bicycle, ride it across the stage, get off, hulahoop a few times, then jump rope a few times and cross the line to finish. It was also timed. So I watch in the wings of the stage, the other competitors run through with relative ease. Then I get up to bat. I’m looking at the snowsuit on the ground and looking at my hot air balloon of a body knowing full well those pants aren’t going to come up to my thighs. I was right. The timer called go. I crammed my leaning tower of Pisas into each pant leg and yanked them up mid thigh. I pulled them tight so they would stay on. My crotch came down to below my knees. I looked like a mammoth penguin. I tried to get the boots on but they wouldn’t go on all the way either. I pick up the bike and try to throw my leg over the frame. This was a challenge. It took me a minute but I succeeded. Stopping was another story. I couldn’t put my foot down to the ground and I ended up crashing. I got up and threw the hula hoop over my stomach. Here’s another thing. If you don’t have a waist, hula-hooping is rather difficult. I finished that and felt rather hurried to finish as I had wasted so much time thus far. I grabbed the jump rope and started jumping backwards for some reason. As I pounded the stage the snowsuit came down around my ankles. The whole audience roared with laughter. I tried to waddle to the finish line and I tripped and fell so I crawled. I passed the finish line and continued crawling off the stage. I could hear the crowd screaming and clapping. The timer forced me to go back out on stage for a standing ovation. So needless to say I won Mr. Snowman. And that’s how I became one of those snotty, popular people. And it was the first(and only) time I ever kicked Bretton’s ass. And that felt wicked awesome.

In case you haven’t heard. My favorite musical composer is Stephen Sondheim. Who wrote Sweeney Todd. Which will be made into a film. Which will star Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman, and Sasha Baron Cohen. Who will all be directed by Tim Burton. Who also directed Vincent D’Onofrio in Ed Wood. Who was in JFK with Kevin Bacon. HA! Now if you’ve never heard of the musical Sweeney Todd, let me just say it’s very good.

Here’s the facts:
*It premiered on Broadway in 1979
*It won eight Tony Awards including Best Actress(Angela Lansbury), Best Actor(Len Cariou), and Best Musical.
*It’s about some killers that bake their victims in meat pies. So…fun!

So are Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, and Helena Bonham Carter the new holy trinity. Just maybe. All I can say is I can’t wait til December 2007 when it hits the big screens.

And I say this in the name of Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, and Helena Bonham Carter. Amen.

P.S. If you exist Lord, please don’t strike me down.

My salute to one of my favorite movies(Becca’s great idea). If you need a new set of movie quotes to freshen your movie quoting repertoire, look no further than Waiting For Guffman. This familiar ensemble of actors is at their wicked best. This is when I fell in love with Catherine O’Hara and Parker Posey. I’ve never laughed harder at a movie than I did here. And you thought I was bad at Little Miss Sunshine. No, no this movie is a never ending box of Krispy Kremes(Eww, it sickens me to see the letter ‘K’ replacing words commonly spelled with a ‘C’. But that’s just me.). Alright here’s a great quote:

Corky St. Clair(played perfectly by Christopher Guest): I think that the elements, as Dr. Watson said to Sherlock, “are coming together, sir.” I was shopping for my wife, Bonnie (I buy most of her clothes). And Mrs. Pearl was in the same shop, and it just was an accident. Y’know, we started talking…about pantyhose. She was saying — w-whatever, that’s not the point of the story, but what the point is was that through this accidental meeting — it’s like, y’know, it’s like a Hitchcock movie, where, you know, you’re thrown into a rubber bag and put in the trunk of a car. You find people; you find them. Something… It - is it karma? Maybe. But we found him; that’s the important thing — and I got Bonnie a wonderful pantsuit.

So watch the movie or die!!

When my oldest brother, Corey, was three or four, my uncle Jody wanted to treat him to a popcicle from the local market. Jody was a mere 6 or 7 year-old himself. He had a dollar or so, and he asked my grandma if he could buy two popcicles for my brother and him. She warned sternly, “Yes, that’s fine, but do not spend anymore than that.” Jody went to the market a few blocks away and came back with the popcicles. My grandmother, noticing his arrival, said, “Okay Jody, let’s put the rest of the money away to save.” My uncle looked down on the floor and shuffled his foot. “Jody? Where is the rest of your money?”, she asked raising her voice a little. “I don’t have it.”, he whispered, his face heating up with fear. “Jody, what did I say? I said don’t spend all your money. Now look what you’ve done. What did you buy?”, she snapped at him.” He spoke quietly with tears forming in his eyes, “There was a man with old, dirty clothes outside the store. He looked sad and had a sign that said ‘need money for food’. So I gave him the rest of money.” Well my grandma felt like such an ass. She told me that story not able to contain her own tears. Anyway now it’s a story for you. Sometimes I think of this story and it makes me want to be a better person.

Oh dear God I’ve been sick. If vomiting was the new Broadway show, I just had 30 curtain calls. That’s all I have to say.

The good times are over. The country is going down the tubes. If I had been born in 1905, I would be dead right now and wouldn’t have to be worrying about this. And it’s not anyone’s fault in particular. We are all to blame. First the people for wondering who the next Survivor, American Idol, Top Model, and Big Brother will be. For worrying what will happen to Meredith and McDreamy; Sawyer, Jack and Kate; That guy on 24 who keeps getting into predicaments. Too busy buying an even smaller iPod, cell phone and laptop. Filling up on energy drinks, double-tall Capuspressoes with extra skim fat milk, and super-size everything. Then the Media covering their crazy bitches Britney Spears, Anna Nicole Smith, Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen and making sure their every move is documented to the smallest detail, even if they’re dead. Did you know Courtney Love buys Always tampons, regular flow? Making sure we all know that Ann Coulter, Isaiah Washington, and Tim Hardaway hate the gays. That Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama got in a slap fight with David Geffen. Next up our lovely politicians. The Republicans making sure we are protected against married lesbians, evolution, and atheism. All the while hitting on teenage male pages. The Democrats just sitting there playing pattycake waiting for their pizza delivery. All of them flapping their wooden lips with corporate hands up their asses. Then there’s the presidency. Dick and Bush. Cheney, the Leona Helmsley of the White House, with his remote control to Dubya the Robot. Georgie crying in the corner saying, “Please Master Cheney I’ll send more troops. If you will stop slapping me on the head and calling me President Tush.” Let’s not forget the Corporations, the other house of Congress. Lining the politician’s pocket so our teens can start smoking earlier, so we can have more sicknesses to cure with expensive new medicine, so we can start being charged for using the World Wide Web. This is why I’m half crazy. We’re screwed people!! I sure as hell am no help either. I’ve supersized two thousand times too many. I can barely fit through my door. I’m too tired anyway. I’m gonna go grab a box of Twinkies. Oh my God! Cameron Diaz just bought a herion addicted kitten!!