sweating the small stuff

The other night some of the many inside sources asked me if I planned on seeing the movie, “Brokeback Mountain”. I asked them what the fuck made them think I wanted to see Brokeback Mountain? Well they exclaimed that being a long time lover of westerns and things of that ilk, I’d be the first in line to go see it. I said yeah, I like westerns and shit but I’m not all that down with going to see a big gay western. Not that I’m “and if you’re a long time reader of this site you’d know this” homophobic in the least.

But I like my westerns big and dirty and full of senseless killings and shit, with horses and whores and cows and more whores, not two cowboys getting in touch with their gay issues. Yeah, that loud creaking noise you hear, that’s John Ford twisting in his grave. And that other loud noise is John Wayne standing the fuck up in his pissed as a muthafucker.

Anyway I might see it when it comes out on cable if I’m feeling somewhat sensitive that day but not before. But the movie has given me a new catch phrase when the many inside sources get all pissy pants and shit. Instead of telling em to stop all the gay shit, I can tell em to stop getting all brokeback mountain and shit. Now lets move on to sweatin the small stuff.






From the “it pays to be tough” department……………..

comes a story of how a twelve-foot shark attacked the boat of a New Zealand team competing in a trans-Atlantic race rocking the boat back and forth and scaring the shit out of the coed rowing team. The shark attacked the boat for over fifteen minutes forcing the two rowers into the well of the twenty four-foot ocean rowing boat.

According to my many inside sources the huge shark kept hitting the boat, having a go at the rudder, the sea anchor and hull. The crew wasn’t sure the fuckin shark wasn’t biting holes in the underside of the boat so they rang the support ship for advice and possible assistance. Not that it would’ve done em too much good since it took the support ship nearly six hours to reach the side of the smaller boat.

The male member of the rowboat’s two person crew thought about taping a flare to a cooking gas canister and trying to shoot it “Jaws” style, but thought better of it. I should add that these muthafuckers weren’t just out for a Sunday boat ride. They were one of twenty-six teams competing in the two thousand five hundred-nautical mile Atlantic Rowing Race from the Canary Islands to Antigua.

For some reason this reminds me of the time one night where I met this chick at a bar who was actually falling for my line of bullshit. I remarked that she was in great shape and that’s when she told me she was a professional rock climber. You know, one of those people who climb up the side of a fuckin cliff with just their bare hands and shit.

That’s when I had to sit back and revaluate the situation I was about to get myself into. Here’s a chick that climbs mountains and cliffs and shit with her bare hands for a living. What the fuck was I gonna do with that? I mean goddamn; you just don’t run a marathon without training for it first, right? Shit, she’d either kill me or disengage my dick. Older means wiser.





From the “Elton John loves him some Brokeback Mountain” department......

comes another thing with all the talk about same sex marriages and ole randy rock stars, the 1999 movie “Bicentennial” staring Robin Williams keeps coming to mind. Because to me that movie stirred up so much shit that that no one has yet bothered to answer. Because as my many inside sources tell me, for centuries, people have fought fuckin epic wars over race, religion, and cultural differences when it came to marriage.

You can’t marry that boy because his tribe sleeps facing the wrong direction.
Jew’s can’t marry non-Jews.
Blacks can’t marry Whites,
boys can’t marry boys, and girls can’t marry girls.
Don’t be marrying your sister cause you’ll end up with the stupid retarded slack jawed kids with the shiny skin.

But here was a movie that dealt with a robot named Andrew that spent over two hundred years trying to become legally human so that he could marry the human woman he fell in love with. His lust for the human was so huge that he stalked this woman, yes stalked, thru almost four generations of her family. Andrew the robot taught himself skills so that he would become invaluable to the human race. He invented shit so as to support his ongoing legal process to become human and take this human woman as his wife.

To have and to hold,
to love and cherish forever,
to grow old and die with.

Didn’t anyone see the fuckin irony this movie displayed? Here is a love story that lasted centuries, written by Isaac Asimov, one of the worlds most respected writers. A story that once you break it down is about nothing less than a walking, talking, dildo hut that came to life like a horny Pinocchio and wanted to marry the women of it’s dreams. And nobody saw a fuckin thing wrong with this? The fuckin movie got rave reviews. “A new fairy tale for the ages” A new instant classic”! “Kudos’ to Robin Williams for the performance of his life”! “A bittersweet tale of love”. But did anyone anywhere say “hey, but it’s a robot wanting to marry a human. Isn’t that shit kind of nasty”?

Where was the redneck during all this? “Goddamn Lou, that there lady robot got her some big ole titties on her, don’t she”?
Where was the Pope during all this? “Fuck it, ignore it, maybe it’ll go away”.
Where was the Black man during all of this? “Tha fuck? Oh no he didn’t”?

Do you muthafucker’s feel me on this? I’m just sayin is all.




Well I was gonna add more to this episode of “sweatin the small stuff” but I just finished watching the movie “Second hand lions” for the third time and I’m spent. So instead of getting all brokeback mountain on you I’m gonna call it a night and simply wish all of you a safe and happy Christmas.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"