Keeping It Reel: Avatar IMAX 3D

Foreword: Paying $16 to see a movie is something I never thought I'd have to do in my lifetime. I still remember paying $3.75 (matinee price) to see Batman in 1989. But this is IMAX and it is 3D so I figured why not. I have yet to see a movie in 3D since Captian EO at Disneyland as a kid. Back when they used Red and Blue lenses that made everything look like an acid trip. Skip to 2009 and the hand over some yellow plastic glasses with gray lenses that look like something Kanye West would wear. One bit of advice is to never get to an IMAX showing 20 minutes before it starts. Luckily, I was able to sneak in line when the ushers told everyone to get their tickets to present at the door. While the people were looked toward their pockets, I snuck in line. No one noticed. I was able to get great seats for me and my friends.

The Shrek 4 (is there really a need for more Shrek's?) 3D preview came on and I became confused. This isn't the 3D I remembered. This was far better and absolutely amazing. My eyes and brain were fighting each other trying to figure out what was going on. The depth perception had me in awe. I felt a buzz in my head from being excited. Yes, 3D is awesome. (Gotta leave the glasses on though or the screen looks like you had 2 too many martinis)

Movie Review: I came into this movie expecting a cliche story that has been previously explored in movies such as Dances With Wolves and The Last Samarai. Thats pretty much what this story is. James Cameron does a good job of making likable and hateable characters. The plot and story is very predictable but thats okay. Cameron isn't trying to wow us with a surprise climatic ending like he did with 'Titanic'. (Whoever would have thought that massive ship would sink?)

The acting is fair, considering we're watching motion captured CGI aliens most of the time. Sam Worthington is becoming an insanely huge star in the US already. He does a good job here. Zoe Saldana does an excelent job as one of the planet's natives. She's somewhat hot even has a giant smurf. The villain of the movie is a bit over the top, but he made me laugh on several occasions so I guess maybe thats what they were going for. I don't know.

The look of the movie is stunning. The special effects surpassed my hard-to-be-impressed expectations. The alien planet comes to life with imaginative creatures and creates a believable ambience. Especially with the 3D. I would suggest to watch this movie in IMAX 3D only. The visual benefit will be well worth the price of admission. As a 2D movie, 'Avatar' is a slightly above average adventure movie. As a 3D movie, its an experience you will remember for quite awhile.

I was very pessimistic about this film and to those that saw it and to those who told me it was great in 3D. I apologize. I was wrong. 'Avatar' is $500 million well spent for 20th Century Fox and $16 well spent for me.

Jason vs. The Angeles National Forest: Part III

I felt lucky. I had just escaped would could have been my rocky grave...or the rocky ground in which I paralyzed myself. Either way, there was a rocky area I didn't want to be in, and I almost fell into it.

After reaching the other side of the cliff, me and Victor took a moment to reflect on what just happened. I was so tired now. Not only physically, but mentally as well. This was like an episode of Man vs. Wild. An episode where Bear Grylls gets amnesia. Me and Victor didn't really know what to do.

After my great idea of crossing the steep mountain, I had another brilliant idea. On this side of the mountain, the way down wasn't steep at all. It did have soft dirt though. Climbing down is a lot harder than climbing up, so my great idea number two, was to slide down the hill.

I went first. I started to pick up speed as I slid down. A lot of dirt and dust went into the air. I couldn't slow down very easily. Yes, I was making great time getting to the bottom, but I was losing control. It was also become steeper. I cut my arm on something that left a scar on my arm for a good 6 years. I knew I had to stop or I would probably injure myself more. I saw a small tree and was able to hang onto a branch, since the tree was angled the same way as the side of the mountain.

It didn't take long for the debris to settle. I told Victor to slide down toward the tree. Now I don't know what happened next exactly. I believe that maybe I cleared all the soft dirt and debris that slowed me down. Whatever the reason, Victor came down like a bat out of hell. He was literally bouncing and coming toward me almost twice as fast.

He smacked into me pretty hard. It winded both of us, but we had to move on. We reached the bottom area and came up upon another cliff. A very small one. Maybe 10 feet. Victor jumped down with no problems. He was given the nickname Spider-Man for a reason. I was nervous about jumping down. My legs at this point felt like Jell-O. I took a leap of faith and landed on my feet, my legs gave way. Suddenly pain covered my body. I landed my tailbone onto a rock. Its a sensation I never want to feel again.

I was so out of it at that point. Tired and dehydrated. It hurt to walk and my arm was bleeding. I actually drank from some dirty pond, just because I felt like I couldn't go on without water. We kept walking on. We were battered and bruised, like Rihanna after a date with Chris Brown. The sun was getting lower. We now started to recognize the area we were in. Success.

We walked toward where our friend parked his car, hoping he was still there. And there he was, drinking a Super Big Gulp and laughing his ass off. Me and Victor were covered in dirt, from head to toe. We were lost in that forest for nearly four hours. Four hours that I will never forget.

Jason vs. The Angeles National Forest: Part II

My legs were giving up and now Victor was eating the dirt I was leaving behind. Since time was an issue I said we should start going sideways, which he agreed on. So we climb sideways and saw a flat area that looked like a dried up river bed. Finally, we had a solid, flat ground to walk on.

Thinking that this was going lead us to safety we walked along it. The river bend became more of a trench after awhile. Almost like in a movie, we noticed the trench ended up towards the horizon. We both knew what this meant but kept going forward anyway. When we got towards the end, it was plain and clear.

If water was present, me and Victor would have been standing at the edge of a waterfall. The drop was close to vertical. I would guess about 40 to 50 ft. Nothing but rocks and dead brush below. Just around the riverbend my ass. Fuck you Pocahontas.

The sun was being a bitch as well. We were stuck. From this vantage point we could literally see where we had to go. Me and Victor were like Lewis & Clark.

We now had the map of this place in our head, but we just didn't know how to get to the other side of this mountain. If we went back up the river, we'd lose time going the wrong way. I took the stupid initiative and climbed up the side of the trench.

I'm pretty sure I confused Victor when I started to climb the side the near verticle cliff. There was dry brush to hang on to. I was tired, hungry and knew it was going to get dark soon. We had to do something. Victor followed me, still questioning my actions. I should have questioned myself, but I knew if we got on the other side of this cliff, we would be well on our way out of this place. Victor knew that too and followed me.

So me and Victor were straddling this cliff, carefully planting out feet and holding on to dead brush. I honestly said a prayer. Its funny how one thinks in dangerous situations. I felt the need to tell a joke to Victor. I told him that this was like Indiana Jones. In the movie, he holds on to a vine to save himself from falling, and smiles thinking he's escaped death. Suddenly the vine snaps a bit and he goes down. The smile goes away. I began to reinact that scene as a joke.

I think God didn't appreciate my humor. As I said that, just like in the movie, the bush I was holding on to ripped out from its roots. Oh, the irony. I started to slide down. Victor reached out to try and grab me, but luckily I had caught onto another bush on the way down. I could hear the rocks crashing below me. What a moment.

We kept going and finally reached the other side of that cliff. It was less steep on this side. Knowing that I could have fallen to my death, I became desperate to get out of there. (TO BE CONCLUDED)

Jason vs. The Angeles National Forest: Part I

1999. It was a moderate day. Not too warm, not too cold. The kind of day that people in the East Coast cringe for in jealousy. Back when summer's meant nothing to do, most of the day was spent looking for something to do.

My partner in crime at that time was some what of a mentor to me. That probably wasn't a good thing in hindsight. If you know who I'm talking about, then you know why. Not that he's a horrible person. He's just crazy, but in a good way...I think. He and I had a mutual friend who told us about this forest are in Altadena that was pretty cool. Mind you, I was on the brink of turning 17, so this sounded like fun.

We get there and explore like young people do. After some walking and hiking we hit a rocky dead end. Sound minds would have returned, but our quest of finding something extraordinary conflicted common sense. We tried climbing this steep rock. None of us could get a good grip.

Beaten but not quite defeated, me and my partner in crime (we'll call him Victor...because thats his name) decided we were going to climb around from the other side, which required us to hike up the side of a steep mountain. The ground wasn't very solid as we got higher and a small rock avalanche happened underneath us. Thats how this all started. We couldn't get back down to our other friend without jumping down about 12 feet.

Victor tried to climb down a tree that was nearby, but the branch broke while he was on it and we thought he was going to fall. I'll never forget his face. Fear and excitement, like a newborn that just crapped itself. During that time Victor said he saw a trail up higher that was pretty close so he came up with the idea that we should start climbing up the steep side of the mountain. Best way to get down is to go up. Makes perfect sense.

So I followed him as the mountain got steeper and steeper. I was getting a bunch of dirt in my face and mouth. Suddenly we weren't really hiking as much as we were climbing. Victor kept assuring me that the trail was just up ahead. The minutes kept ticking by. We kept going higher and higher. We looked out towards the sun and realized that time was going to be an issue. We had no flashlights.

Our friend that was waiting for us below can't even see us anymore. We can barely hear him. We both took a break. It was becoming tiring. I then, took the lead, because the dirt in my mouth and face was becoming unbearable. I couldn't see that trail anymore. Whatever Victor thought was close, was distorted by perspective. We were close to nothing. (TO BE CONTINUED)

The Monopoly Guy Made Me Do This

I'm not to sure what to blog about anymore. No one clicks my ads anymore and I am no longer making blog money, but thats okay. I'm going to trek forward. People that know me will say, "Why am I not surprised he did this to make money." And I'd say back to them "Aw, you know me so well."

Its not completely my fault. Being an only child left me only with my mother to do anything with. That alone might have caused a complete meltdown of normal brain activity, but I'll leave that discussion for another day perhaps. My mother tried her best to keep me occupied, but when watching The Muppets Take Manhattan and The Three Amigos didn't cut it anymore, out came the Monopoly game board.

Monopoly. A real estate oriented game thats main goal is to make money. There was nothing more grand than to have those puke-orange $500 bills stack up. Landing and being able to purchase the Park Place and Boardwalk properties was by far the best moment that could happen in the game. Or worse depending on who's doing the purchasing. Throw in a few Houses and Hotels and those spots become a money hungry valley that meant bankruptcy to the other player(s). Maybe thats what happened to GM and AIG. They landed on a Hotel infested Boardwalk.

I used to annoy my mom when we played. I had recorded the song "Under the Boardwalk" by The Drifters from the radio, onto a tape cassette. The days before mp3s and downloading were tedious weren't they? Well if I ever did get the chance to buy Boardwalk, I'd run to the tape deck and press play. I would have it set up already and my mom knew. She thought it was funny the first time I did it. Not so much after that. I admit it was a bit much to do that, but I was only like 9 years old or something.

I miss playing the game. I heard they have a newer version that includes "VISA" credit cards. That sounds like fun.

The Countdown Begins

Its been a tame 2 years.

A Mall Carol

The Mall. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. It's not a fun place to be. I hate it. Especially during the "Holiday Season." I never understood why the Holiday Season starts on Nov. 1st. That new Jim Carrey movie, A Christmas Carol, came out two weekends ago. Can we at least get through Thanksgiving before we're reminded that we have no money to spend on gifts this year?

I don't tend to go to the mall unless I deem it necessary. Necessary is when my clothes start to fall apart. Usually I let my jeans get to the point where it looks like I just fought a pack of rabid raccoons. I figured this time I wouldn't let it get to that point.

Holiday parking at a mall is a serious pain in the ass. True there will always be a few available parking spaces in the distant horizon, but who wants to walk 200 yards to get to the entrance? I sure didn't want to walk that far. This is America. Instead I drove up and down the parking lanes looking like Pac-Man. Eventually I gave in and parked far away and began my Moses-like exodus to the mall entrance.

Once inside, it was like a mosh pit full of people. It's the only place besides a school, where you will find both Raiders fans and emos in the same enclosure. You'll also see kids frolicking about, while you wonder where their parents are, and old people moving around lethargically, while you wonder how they got there and how they are getting out.

I'm not sure anyone enjoys the mall. I saw a child on one of those quarter rides looking painfully disgusted. Me and her made eye contact and I could feel her pain. I didn't want to be there either. But where else can you have the convenience of store options within walking distance?

I feel so out of place at a mall. I seem to be moving twice as fast as anyone else. Like some kind of olympic prodigy. **I guess its the fact that I try to avoid people as much as possible.**

Once I bought what I needed, I suddenly became Charlie with the Golden Ticket and I needed to return to Grandpa Joe. No one was going to stop me from getting home. Thats what I said before I saw her.

As I was power-walking my way back like a pregnant woman at a park, I saw this girl. She was incredibly attractive and was looking in my direction. **My first instinct was to walk around her to completely avoid any conversation. But her eyes were so inviting. Honestly if she was ugly like everyone else in the mall, I would have gone around. This girl was a diamond in the rough. As I got closer I saw her eyes light up a bit and she did the hair tucking behind the ear move. Suddenly the mall didn't seem so bad anymore. I didn't know what to say, but I knew I had to say something due to the constant eye contact. I never get myself into situations like this. Fortunately for me she spoke first...






"Do you have AT&T service?"

I hate the mall. I also hate AT&T prostitutes that stand 10 feet outside their kiosk.

What the Bloody Hell?

This is not a rebuttal. This is merely a response. Before you continue you may want to read this fantastic blog: What Is Going On Down There?

Men will NEVER "get it".

(WARNING: Graphic subject matter and tons of lame movie and tv references. I'm actually challenging myself to how many I can do.)

That statement is partially true. Though the sexual prowess women seem to feel during that time of the month is equal to every single day a guy wakes up in the morning. It's fun and exciting to witness a female feel exactly how we do, but like an M. Night shyamalan movie, there's a twist. To achieve probably the best sex ever, we have to chance an occurrence that might leave the room looking like a crime scene only Dexter would understand. Yes, like a Daniel Day-Lewis movie...There Will Be Blood, and I don't want a damn milkshake.

Now for those of you that know me, we're going to have to go way back in time. We're going to have to hop in that DeLorean and hit 88 mph. There once was a time when I was a typical guy and dated or something close to that. Yes, it's hard to believe. During those years I did notice that there was a correlation to women's friskiness and their visit from Aunt Flow. What kind of sick joke is that?

I once was influenced through a lot of making out and foreplay to do the forbidden deed. Besides, I was young and didn't know what to expect. I was told the-soon-to-be-common, "its my last day." So I figured it should be fine and wouldn't be like that elevator scene in The Shining.


Long story short, (by long story I mean 10 minutes) I was traumatized. Not during the evil deed, but afterwards. How did I succumb (pun intended) to this? It looked like I had a murder weapon attached to me. Why did this have to happen? I vowed never to do that again. Someone once suggested oral. Are you serious? I'm sorry I'm not Edward Cullen and this isn't Twilight. Maybe a vampire would be okay with that. Not I.

It's just not fair.

Who Are You, and How Do You Know My Name?

Awkward moments happen. Its a fact. We are never ready for it; never prepared. They spring up out of the blue and distort our thoughts and actions. I believe thats what makes it awkward. We revert to our animalistic instincts and react without conscious thought. Its only after the moment has happen, do our minds reflect on what just happened. Then the feeling of either embarassment, guilt, or shame crowd over our minds, depending on the situation. I, being an awkward person in general, probaby add to these moments.

I went to the bank recently to deposit a check and withdrawal some money. I stood in line and filled out the necessary form for such a transaction. I got to the point where I was next in line and a bank teller flashed that little light. Like a moth, I went toward the light. As I strutted to the bank teller, I heard a woman's voice out of nowhere say, "Jason! Hey! How are you?" I had my mind on my money and my money on my mind so it took a couple of seconds for my brain to realize someone said my name. When I made the correlation that my name is Jason, I instantly turned to the direction of the woman and said, "Pretty good, thanks." I said it without even looking at her. As I uttered that generic response, I made eye contact with her.

WHO THE HELL IS SHE?

She was an employee of the bank. She was sitting at a desk on the other side of the building, perhaps 10 yards away. This happened during the day, so I didn't have my glasses on. I felt so helpless like Mr. Magoo. I didn't have a single clue as to who that was. I saw she was with a customer so I acted as if I didn't want to interrupt her so I continued to the bank teller.

Now this is when I started to over think. Who was she? She doesn't even look faintly familiar. I began to play detetective and thought about high school, elementary school and past jobs. Nothing rang a bell. Every memory came to a dead end. It was like watching the first half of a Forensic Files episode. At that point I began to feel like I was rude to her by answering her and walking off. I made myself believe that she was staring at my back the whole time.

Of course the bank teller was having a computer issue and needed to go get help. I was annoyed with the fact that I didn't know who this woman was. I slowly turned to look at her. I could see her talking to a customer. I could also hear that she was speaking Spanish. A clue? Not really. Then she noticed me looking at her. Oh boy. I gave a smile and luckily my bank teller came back so I was able to turn around for a reason. I heard a co-worker call out to a "Maria." Was that the woman's name? I couldn't look again. I just wanted to leave.

The Bank Teller asked me how I wanted my cash. I said hundreds. Yes, I'm big pimpin'. Oh, to his surprise! He doesnt have hundred dollar bills anymore. It was time for him to leave me alone with Maria again. She didn't have her customer anymore, but a co-worker was over at her desk, talking to her. I was afraid she might start a conversation with me once the co-worker left. I needed to to avoid the dreaded I'm-not-sure-who-you-are conversation. I feel like its demeaning to a person. So instead I totally brush them off, ignore them and treat them as if they have leprosy.

As soon is I received my money I dashed out of there. Will I ever see Maria again? Probably not, but she will live forever in my blog.

The Day That Music Cried

Things have been peaceful at my apartment complex. Infant Devil Baby has been hibernating in the cold weather. It has been quiet and relaxing. At the time, things were good, but much like the English Proverb says; "All good things must come to an end."

Last night I was eating my dinner and watching the Lakers game. Such a good game. As my eyes feasted on a close NBA game going into overtime, my ears were distracted by the sound of a man yelling. I figured my neighbors were having a domestic dispute and the guy was just letting off some steam. I continued to watch the game and eat my dinner. Focusing on the game, I didn't realize that the yelling didn't stop. The guy was still yelling.

The game was over so I turned off my TV. I sat there in silence and listened. Suddenly it was clear to me what was really going on. I couldn't believe it. There wasn't a domestic dispute. There wasn't even an argument or discussion going on. What was going on you ask? What was going on was whatever you get when you mix a tone deaf singer with Beatles Rockband.

They say the tragic night when Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper died in a plane crash is The Day That Music Died. Yesterday was The Day That Music Cried. My neighbor (not the the owners of IDB) seems to think that yelling and singing are one and the same. The domestic dispute I thought I was hearing was actually his rendition of Eight Days A Week. I couldn't hear the music from his TV, but I sure could hear him. I enjoy The Beatles' music and I'm all about having fun, but c'mon!


It was pretty damn funny for the first half-hour. By 10:30pm it became obnoxious. There's only so much bad singing a person can take. Though I couldn't help from laughing at someone screaming Here Comes The Sun. Ugh, George Harrison is turning in his grave.

My Neighbor Had Satan's Baby

Roman Polanksi, (yes that director that raped the 13 year old) directed a movie in 1968 titled Rosemary's Baby. It's a story of a woman who is drugged and is set up by an occult to be impregnated by Satan himself. I think this has happened to my new neighbor.

When I first moved into my apartment, I had some old creepy guy who I believed to be a serial killer. Actually I still think he is. I'd walk pass his apartment and I'd see him sitting in a lawn chair watching a small television. Not so spectacular except for the fact that was ALL he had in his apartment. A lawn chair and a small tv on the floor. He was quiet and to himself. He made me feel uneasy, but now I miss him so much.

Old Creepy Guy moved out (maybe arrested for murders), which probably took 5 minutes to do. It all happened while I was at work because I came home one day and the apartment maintenance crew was going through the newly vacant apartment. Soon after a couple in their mid 30s moved in, and with them, a newborn baby. Infant Devil Baby.

IDB was cute at first. Yes I said cute. He/She..IT...would cry ever so softly. It's little lungs doing what they could. That was about 3 months ago. Now, the little thing has become a tenor. It's unearthly, violent cries come up in the most inopportune time. Seriously, it sounds like a cat fighting mixed with a velociraptor from the Jurassic Park franchise. I think IDB is nocturnal too because it only cries in the middle of the night. That makes sleeping difficult. I don't know if its some kind of human instinct thing, but hearing a baby cry makes me alert and I hate it.

What I want to know is if it's normal for a baby to cry for over an hour straight. I'm no expert but doesn't that mean something is wrong? Maybe it's horns are coming out. That could be it. I imagine that would hurt a lot.

Urinal Etiquette

No, I don't truly have a list of Man Rules. Though if I did, I believe that Urinal Etiquette would be in the top ten. Women won't understand this fully. You ladies have your restroom cubicles, also known as stalls, so that you may squeeze your lemons in peace. I can understand why you girls go to restrooms together and conversate. With men, its a completely different story. I feel like I need to express this, because there was a recent incident of a Man Rule foul.

The Different Types of Men's Restrooms:

First, there's the User Friendly Restroom. Thats the type that has the urinals spread apart with dividers in between so George Michael can't take a peek at Captain Winky. These restrooms are rare. Maybe not rare to everyone, but rare to me because I don't go to high-class places often. These restrooms don't really require much etiquette.

Second, theres the Barnyard Restroom. This is where urinals are non-existent. Yes, instead we have to leak our lizards into what is basically a metallic trough. An elongated bucket which is tilted ever so slightly so that the urine mixes together to drain away to the far corner. No water. No flushing. Usually places that have these are sport stadiums/arenas and lame ass bars. The etiquette here is to give at least 20 inches space to the person next to you. Like Egon said in Ghostbusters, "Don't cross the streams." Also, find something on the blank wall in front of you. Stare at it. I don't care what it is. A crack, a hole...peeling paint, whatever it is, that is your focus point. You may talk, but you cannot turn to look at the person you are speaking to.

The third type of restroom is the Mosh Pit Restroom. This is the type of restroom where they cram as many urinals as possible onto a wall. This is where everyone is cramped up. Same exact rules apply, though the crossing of the streams shouldn't be an issue.

The Man Rule Foul:

I was in a Mosh Pit Restroom at Angels Stadium. It's already late in the game and the Angels were down big. You could see which of the Angels fans were drunk because they were still happy. I went to urinate because I have a habit of doing so every few hours.

As I'm standing at my urinal, taking care of business, an older man appears next to the urinal to my left. I can see out of the corner of my eye, as I am staring at my focal point. I noticed that he spit into his urinal. A prime example of one who is drunk. Right away he turned to me and started a discussion about the game. I ignored him, hoping he'd turn away. I guess while he was staring in my direction, he noticed the person to my right had one of those flashing light beer cups. He seemed so abnormally excited by that. He honestly said "Whoa! A flashing beer!" and he leaned in to get a better look. Which means he got really close to me. Luckily I was done with my business and I was able to leave. He broke two rules of Urinal Etiquette and that is unacceptable. Even while drunk.

When Jason Met Terry: An ATM Love Story

If money is the root of all evil, why do we all need it? This morning I looked into my wallet and sadly found that it was empty. Not even a single buck. Not a good situation when you have a friend in the mall offering 50% off Nike Shoes for today only. Being the lazy I person I am, I Googled the closest Wells Fargo ATM that was on the way to the mall. It was an area I wasn't too familiar with, but I was able to find it.

The bank was in a small industrial area. I drove into the parking lot and noticed that there was just one ATM machine outside. I could see a woman with one of those personal shopping carts from the 50s at the ATM. I parked my car and got out in the 90 degree weather and proceeded towards the bank. This bank is closed on Saturdays, which at the time meant nothing to me since I just needed to get a few bucks out of the ATM.

As I approached the ATM I noticed that the woman at the ATM was of a foreign descent. I'm going to be politically correct and not mention what country she's from. I'll give you a hint and tell you it starts with CHIN (now you be a clever cookie and figure out the rest). I'm not going to blame her race, nor the fact that she is a woman. No, that would not be wise. I might though, blame it on the gallon of milk she was drinking from in 90 degree weather. Or simply that she could not speak English. Whatever the reason, Terry (I saw her name on her ATM card) could not seem to get her money deposited.

I am a very passive person. I waited there in the heat and watched Terry struggle getting her dollars into the machine. (Wells Fargo ATMs have their machines process without envelopes so you can just deposit the cash and the bills get scanned. Its also made to take 50 bills at once.) I wish Terry knew this, because she was trying to deposit one bill at a time. After each bill was scanned she would say she was finished with her transaction, yet would be confused as to why her ATM card would pop out.

Five minutes passed. Suddenly I wasn't the passive person I've known myself to be. I got bold and approached her. I figured I was either going to help her now or strangle her later. I chose to help her now. Since she didn't know English I think she believed I was trying to rob her since she had a stack of bills in her hand. I told her she can put all the bills in at the same time and through enough hand gestures it became apparent to her that I was trying to help. So she starts putting in the bills and everything is dandy. It finally worked for her. Yay. She ended her transaction and her ATM card came out. I'm thinking thank God. I can get my money go.

I like to thank God often. God likes this. If God had a Facebook he'd click the Like button. I've learned that God also has a sense of humor.

Just when I thought it was going to be my turn at the ATM, good ol' Terry went into her purse and pulled out more money. She wasn't done yet. She once again put her ATM card in again to deposit more money, but ran into a new problem. She maxed out the amount of transactions for the day. Lord only knows how long she was there before I got there. At this point there was a small line of Terry protestors behind me. She didn't get it. I couldn't explain it to her either. I don't know the universal language for "you can't use this atm card for the rest of the day, now go home."

I told her to step to the side so others can go since she was having problems. I specifically, told her "Let us go first, then you can try again." I don't know what she thought I said, but she nodded and continued to try and deposit money. Even the ATM machine was beeping at her as if to tell her "go away." People actually left. They didn't feel like waiting. It seriously took Terry 10 minutes before she gave up. Funny part is, I ended up not buying anything at the mall.

Go Dodgers?

The sky will burn at forty-five degrees.
Fire approaches the great new city.
By fire he will destroy their city,
A cold and cruel heart,
Blood will pour,
Mercy to none.
-Nostradamus

What you just read was a prediction of the future written by Nostradamus back in the year 1550. As many of his other predictions, it is very vague and left open for interpretation. After going to Game 1 of the NLCS, I have concluded that Nostradamus was predicting about what would happen to the city of Los Angeles if the Dodgers were to win the World Series in 2009.

On June 14, 2009, the Los Angeles Lakers won their 15th NBA championship in dominating fashion. Fans flocked to the Staples Center to celebrate...and by celebrate I mean riot. Lakers fans looted stores, destroyed busses and set things on fire. Pretty much everything the vikings did back in the 10th century. Apparently the average IQ of a Lakers fan is on the jersey of Kobe Bryant. I'm not saying all Lakers fans are stupid, I'm just saying that there are a majority of mentally challenged fans that bring down that average. Sadly, I believe the Dodgers have that exact same fan base.

The people I worry about are like Jose here on the left. He's at a Lakers celebration, wearing a Dodgers jersey, participating in some sort of spiritual burning-of-the-branch-if-your-team-won-the-championship ritual. If you look closely he's flashing some sort of gang sign. I think Jose is trying to tell us something. Perhaps a warning of things to come.

I am actually wanting a Los Angeles Dodgers vs. Los Angeles Angels (of Anaheim) World Series. I believe it will help Los Angeles' failing economy, plus be damn good baseball. I just fear the destruction this freeway series may bring. It would be epic. I could see it looking like a Roland Emmerich movie. If you don't know who he is, he directed movies such as Indepedence Day, Godzilla, The Day After Tomorrow and the upcoming 2012. The man loves his destruction. Unfortunately so do Lakers/Dodgers fans.

Hello

My name is Jason...

and this is a dancing sheep.