Sometimes Bad News is Just Bad News

You will have to excuse me. I don't have any idea how to deal with the feelings that stem from knowing someone that dies suddenly at 27 years old from a brain aneurysm. I wouldn't know how to act for a total stranger and I sure don't know how to deal with it when it was someone I had, at least at one time considered a friend. Granted, I haven't seen him in over a year. I didn't have his phone number and can't imagine he spent too much time thinking about me or my life anymore. Why would he? Things change and people come in and out of your life with a randomness that could only be duplicated if you gave construction paper and a marker to an epileptic blind monkey. The actual feelings that came over me when I learned a friend had died mostly manifested as sadness and fear. Sadness for a guy that didn't get to live a full life and parents that had to bury their kid. Fear because, well what if I have bury a child one day. Apparently that happens to people.

I'm not good at dealing with these things. I deal with most things by making myself laugh. I read Facebook updates about a tragedy and all I really want to do is comment on everyone's atrocious grammar (Seriously. Learn what words mean, people). Now I would never be in charge of memorializing anyone as long as there are semi-literate people that don't default to poop jokes with access to a typing machine and the interwebs. So the only thing I can really do is share what I thought about when I started thinking again after getting horrible news. So here goes. Hopefully this will make you laugh a little. Otherwise I'm going to have to fall back on the poop jokes. So if you happen to be reading this because you heard the news too and
you clicked on Craighead's picture just sitting on your couch on your computer, I hope it will make remind you of something that makes you smile for for a minute. It's too late to return the favor to Josh anyway.

The first story I remembered every time Josh's name came up, not surprisingly happened in the basketball locker room. Josh played basketball on the same HS team as me, but he was a little younger. There was always a swagger to Josh that could only be described as "smart assy." He was funny, but he was inevitably going to draw some negative attention from the older players because he didn't even remotely respect any form of hierarchy or seniority (which all seems completely logical now. If I knew then what I know now, I would have just hit some of the older guys with chairs when I was younger playing on the team). Anyway - back to him drawing negative attention. We, in the sports world had this substance called "liquid heat." It was a concentrated, watery version of icy hot that was meant to be diluted considerably and rubbed on sore muscles. Diluted, the stuff was almost unbearably hot. Undiluted and it was absolutely intolerable. At one point, I put the diluted liquid heat on my pulled groin and had to take a shower when... umm lets just say I would have been better off wearing something more supportive. But enough about my fiery junk. The stuff was potent. So potent that one member of the team, Al could not resist the urge to put the undiluted liquid heat on Josh's deodorant when he wasn't in the locker room. Now Josh, being on JV, practiced in another gym, but we were told that he spent the whole practice frantically blowing on his armpits - confused by his situation and questioning why his armpit hair hated him so much.

Obviously there were no secrets and Josh almost immediately found out what Al had done to his Old Spice. Never to be one to take anything lying down - (cut to) a post-game later in the week when we were getting dressed after our showers in the locker room (stay focused, ladies. Yes - I showered and yes I looked amazing). We are all talking and minding our own business when suddenly Al stopped. He looked in both directions and his face got red. he screamed something to the effect of, "Craighead, YOU IDIOT!" Then he ripped through his underwear like Lou Ferrigno ripped through a pair of dungarees, ran into the shower, turned the water on cold and stayed under it for the next 20 minutes letting the cold water rinse away the molten liquid heat concentrate. Josh Craighead had poured liquid heat concentrate on the underwear of a guy that was literally twice his size, knowing the whole time that there would be no doubt who was responsible. I hate to laugh when a friend suffers, but I do have that male genetic trait that secretly wishes he could watch people getting hurt all day. Actually I pretty much spend my whole day fighting the urge to trip people, but I'm not exaggerating when I say that it was the funniest thing I have ever seen happen in front of me (and I've seen your mother dance). Anytime Josh's name is brought up - I immediately think about that night, Josh blowing on his armpits in lay-up drills, Al's pain and all of the other laughs I had with or at Josh's expense.

I know this isn't really funny. I, at one point or another worked with Josh, played basketball with Josh and probably envied Josh in a lot of ways. He died for no apparent reason, which I guess just happens sometimes. I know there are a lot of people that will miss him. I wasn't very close to him recently, but that doesn't really change the memories that come up when someone says his name. I have known a whole lot of people that wouldn't strike one memory in my brain. I guess all we can really do when someone dies is remember them. Which kind of sucks, but then again it could always be worse. Your name could be Richard Head or something.


(My apologies to Cortland Finnegan for using his picture with Josh below. Maybe if he would just play football and stop trying to prove how scrappy and tough he is by getting fines and acting like he hasn't ever tackled anyone, I wouldn't have used it).

The Devil Likes Syrup With His Waffle

2 redboxes... 2 were out of order. I was going to rent whatever movie I wanted while my wife was in the car. But since we rented a movie "on demand" Megan got her say and we are now watching "No Strings Attached." I don't think I am reaching when I say that "on demand" doesn't apply to this movie any more than it applies to my first job as a submarine sandwich artist at a popular Northeastern food chain. As it turns out, while I want to see a documentary on Bill Hicks - my wife wants to see Ashton Kutcher's ass cheeks and horrible acting. I have been looking for an opportunity to update this thing anyway.

As I type this I have a decision to make. Am i going to knock your socks off with a political deposition on how the ACLU is not actually protecting your civil liberties, nor are your civil liberties as you probably see them even remotely good for your/society's well being? I could. And I will, but not tonight. Not after 3 Sierra Nevada Pale Ales, a Miller Lite and a Shiner Bock at South Street.

No tonight I feel justified. I have recently discovered that there are others out there like me - that think of the same things I think about. Filmdrunk.com's blogger has asked his readers to submit personal Glenn Danzig stories... and they have responded. People have written into his blog with their real life encounters with Glenn Danzig - and they blow my mind.

Now you may be saying to yourself, "Dean, what do you want with stories about devil worshiping punk/metal rock star and why do you care how he interacts with his fans?" The answer is simple - I have no idea. I don't really have an opinion on The Misfits and Danzig is an outlet for angry trench-coat wearing kids. At the same tiime, I'm a christian that will be at church tomorrow morning and believes Glenn Danzig - at least at this point - will spend eternity in a very real Hell. However, I do know WHEN my interest in creepers acting normal started. It started several years ago when I was watching a TV show that I wouldn't admit to watching and learned that Marilyn Manson was dating... someone. That's when I realized that people that are famous for stirring the pot, shocking people with their disregard for social norms and general anti-social behavior, have a normal side to their life.

I started to wonder what these people were like in everyday settings. I mean really - Marilyn Manson doesn't wear make up all of the time. He woke up in the morning and probably had to eat something (I can only hope Fruit Loops) for breakfast. And where is the "on" swtich. Did he walk out of his front door picking his nose only to realize someone is looking at him and immediately break into a power strut and Jesus-hating scowl? People have interactions with Glenn Danzig outside of his performances. He goes to the grocery store and buys his favorite brand of soft drink and checks the date on the milk. And then later that night he adorns his eyeliner and screams about Satan and "thinking for yourself." He shops for clothes. Did your head just explode? He probably literally goes into a strip mall and heads straight for the black shirts.

I don't know why, but as a self proclaimed expert on human behavior (shut up - I am) I can't help but wonder when Anton Levay was vulnerable. When he discovered he was out of creamer after he made a pot of coffee, did he think to himself, "what would my followers think? My minions! They can't hear of this!" I bet being an evil free thinker is exhausting. I'm glad I don't have that pressure. I would suck at it. Some photographer would catch me holding a chocolate milk, renting a Pixar movie at a redbox and it would be curtains for my reputation.

I can't really figure out how to end this post. I think that is about it, but I also feel like no one will understand what I mean. Think about it this way: Trent Reznor has, at some point in his life had explosive diarrhea. The guy responsible for "Pretty Hate Machine" was at the complete mercy of his bowels. "Head Like A Hole" is still a pretty solid song, but you have to find humor in the fact that no matter how seriously you take yourself - you will at some point puke. And that makes you weak and gross and vulnerable.

I guess the strangest part of all of this is watching people buy into personas. I mean - how can anyone justify idolizing a musician, actor or blogger (hint, hint) when said person would be accutely aware of all of his/her idol's wierdness/grossness within just one day as a fly on the wall of their life. It's equivalent to hearing a vice president talk when he doesn't know his microphone is on. He could have graduated from an Ivy League school, but in that moment - he is uneducated redneck.

Hopefully this doesn't read like nonsense. It may, but it's better than anything you have thought of today. Unless you happen to look at my facebook photos and wonder how I got so handsome. In that case - you shouldn't be wasting your time reading this. Get back over to those photos and admire my sexxxy dimples. Sweet dreams, cupcake. AAAAAHHHHH! (Note: I really didn't know how to end this post)

Not Since Babe Ruth...

...has someone called his shot and followed through with such testicular fortitude. Ricky Gervais hosted the Golden Globes (side note: your mom's nickname in high school) this past weekend and apparently absolutely followed through with the promise he made last week: "They won't be asking me to host again." Now I know what you're thinking; "What' a golden globe?" Apparently it can be defined as a roomful of humorless, self-serving morons that don't feel that they should be held accountable for their actions.

Now I wouldn't describe myself as a huge Ricky Gervais fan. I couldn't name two movies he has been in or one that I liked. The office was funny prior to jumping the shark, but I never had any reason to give the guy a second look. That is until he sat in a room full of his peers, looked them directly in the face and tore them to pieces. Watch the monologue if you think I'm exaggerating - and even if you know I don't exaggerate (I am that sexy), watch it. I'll wait. Ok, if you can't click a link I will give you some of my favorite quotes:

On 3-D: “It was a big year for 3-D movies. Toy Story, Despicable Me, Tron. It seems like everything this year was three-dimensional — except the characters in The Tourist. I tell you what, I'm jumping on the bandwagon, because I haven't even seen The Tourist. Who has?

But it must be good because it's nominated, so shut up, OK? And I'd like to crush this ridiculous rumor that the only reason The Tourist was nominated was so that the foreign press of could hang out with Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie. That was not the only reason; they also accepted bribes.”

On SJP et al: “There were a lot of big films that didn’t get nominated this year – nothing for Sex and the City 2. I was sure the Golden Globe for special effects would go to the team that airbrushed that poster.”

On Scientologists who shall not be named: “Also not nominated, I Love You Phillip Morris. Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor, two heterosexual actors pretending to be gay. So the complete opposite of some famous Scientologists, then. My lawyers helped with that joke.”

On Robert Downey Jr.: “He’s the star of Iron Man, Two Girls and a Guy, Wonderboys. Sorry, are these porn films? Kiss Kiss (Bang Bang), Bowfinger. Really! Up the Academy. He has done all those films, but many of you in this room probably know him from such facilities as the Betty Ford Clinic and Los Angeles County Jail.”

On Rambo: “The next presenter is a true Hollywood icon. In ten of the biggest blockbusters of all time, he has shown his extraordinary acting versatility. He has played a boxer … and Rambo. Please welcome Sylvester Stallone!”

On the elderly: “Next up, Eva Longoria has the daunting task of introducing the president of the Hollywood Foreign Press. That’s nothing! I just had to help him off the toilet and pop his teeth in.”


And the reactions?

Robert Downey Jr.: Called the show “hugely mean-spirited with mildly sinister undertones.”

Harvey Weinstein: “Knowing that Ricky Gervais will never work again means a lot to me. I’m going to make sure of it.

HFPA President Philip Berk (the one with the false teeth): “He definitely crossed the line, and some of the things were totally unacceptable. But that’s Ricky. Any of the references to individuals is certainly not something the Hollywood Foreign Press condones.”


The HFPA in their infinite wisdom decided that he will not be invited back to the Golden Globes. Like a 3rd grader that thought he was fouled on the playground, they took their ball and went home.

Ahem...An excerpt from Robert Downey Jr.'s wikipedia page:

From 1996 through 2003, Downey was arrested numerous times on drug-related charges and went several times through drug treatment programs unsuccessfully, explaining in 1999 to a judge: "It's like I have a loaded gun in my mouth and my finger's on the trigger, and I like the taste of the gunmetal."[16] He also explained his relapses by claiming to be addicted to drugs since the age of eight; his father was giving them to him as he was also an addict.[17]

In April 1996, Downey was arrested for possession of heroin, cocaine and an unloaded .357-caliber Magnum handgun, while he was speeding down Sunset Boulevard. A month later, when on parole, he trespassed into a neighbor's home while under the influence of a controlled substance, falling asleep in one of the beds.[18][19] He was sentenced to three years of probation and required to undergo mandatory drug testing. In 1997 he missed one of the court-ordered drug tests and had to spend four months in the Los Angeles County jail. When Downey missed another required drug test in 1999, he was arrested once more. Despite Downey's lawyer, John Stewart Holden, assembling for his client's 1999 defense the same team of lawyers that successfully defended O. J. Simpson during his criminal trial for murder,[17] Downey was sentenced to a three-year prison term at the California Substance Abuse Treatment Facility and State Prison in Corcoran, California (a.k.a. "Corcoran II").

Ssshhhhh. Don't talk about that. He won't want to hear that.

This guy was a complete menace that should still be locked up for everything he did. There is no way Robert Downey Jr. should be anywhere in public other than a well supervised area of the Red Light District. But he was in Iron Man. What a comeback.

The whole thing is so infuriating. I will give you one category and the nominees:

Best Motion Picture: Comedy or Musical
Alice and Wonderland
Burlesque
The Kids are Alright
Red
The Tourist

So it's ok for the HFPA to laugh at The Tourist, but Ricky Gervais can't? Pretty hypocritical if you ask me.

All I'm saying is this - actors are stupid. They pretend for a living. And they are shocked when people aren't kissing their asses or treating them like their jobs are important. I hate you, Hollywood. I wish Hollywood was just made up of Ricky Gervais and Dennis Leary. That being said, let's never mention any of these people again.