Tuesday, July 29, 2008


This new show has been, without a doubt, my guilty little pleasure this Summer.

Right now, with Rescue Me (my usual Summer show) not returning until next year, Swingtown has the honor of being the only thing I have been turning my TV on for since May.

The show takes place in the Summer of 76, in an unnamed Chicago suburb, where a young on-the-rise couple have just moved in to a new upscale neighborhood, leaving their old, traditional friends behind.

The fun begins when their new neighbors, who are very much into the 70’s scene of drugs, parties, and open marriages, indoctrinate them (while high on Quaaludes) into the lifestyle at one of their out-of-control orgy/4th of July parties.

The show, while still fun, has never gotten so high on the “naughty-meter” as it had on that first episode, but I’m still having a hoot watching it. The show really took a hammering by the religious watch-dog groups for its content, and I fear that they have bowed down to company pressure and tamed the show back a bit.

And perhaps they’ve tamed it a wee too much. While the show debuted quite strongly, it has done worse and worse in the ratings every week since then. To add insult to injury, CBS just moved the show to Friday nights, which is pretty much, I fear, its death knell.

Which would be a shame. While it’s certainly not Shakespeare, and not even as good as my BFF TV show LOST, it’s still a fun ride. Swingtown originally was to be an HBO show, where I think it would have fared much better. They could have been as racy and as raunchy as they wanted, without having to worry about Proctor and Gamble pulling out their ad funding (which recently happened).

But CBS says it is committed to showing all 13 episodes, so I will have to contend myself with that.

Regardless, the show will continue to be my dirty little secret this Summer.

Is anyone else watching this?

Interesting side note: One of the best things about Swingtown is all the awesome 70’s music that they play throughout the show. CBS, being no dummy, knows this as well. During each show, they have a 3 minute commercial starring Peter Fonda where they are selling a 10 CD “Flower Power” collection through Time Life Books. They keep advertising it for $12.95!

I LOVE this music, and I finally had to bite. Smelling a rat, I called up last night to order it.

Sure enough, it was too good to be true. The 12.95 is the TRIAL PRICE. All that money gets you is the right to have the cd’s for 30 days before having the option of returning them. After that, Time Life charges you 5 monthly payments of 29.95 each!

Ouch! I think I needed a Quaalude to swallow that one down, myself…

Sunday, July 27, 2008

I'm Pretty Sure I Was Just Molested

How's THAT for a headline?

Let me back up a minute.....

As most of you know by now, I pulled some muscles in my back a few months ago, and have REALLY had a bitch of a time sleeping for a while now. During the day, no matter what I'm doing, I'm fine.... but come sleepy-time, I'm in a world of hurt. Weird, right?

Anyway, I started going to a physical therapist about 2 weeks ago, and it seems to be helping a little. He's a pretty nice guy, and he has this chick as an assistant, who, up until this past week, I had never had as a therapist before.

So, I always begin my sessions by laying on my stomach on one of those massage tables (the kind where you put your face in a hole on the table), and they hook me up with electrodes to electric-shock my muscles. After I lay down, the therapist usually lifts my shirt and applies the electrodes to my back. Now, keep in mind that my torn muscle is on my UPPER back. So, while this girl is applying the electrodes this time, I suddenly got quite a surprise as she LOWERS MY SHORTS DOWN, enough that my supple ass was showing!

I'm laying there thinking "Oooooookay, why is she going to put an electrode down there?", when suddenly, as quickly as she pulled them down, she pulled my shorts back up. She never ended up putting an electrode anywhere near that area.

After the electrodes, the therapist usually then covers me with a heating blanket, and this time with my little dirty nurse was no different.

While i was laying there getting shocked and melted, she struck up a conversation with me, and I soon began to think that there was really nothing to our little back-door drama earlier.

During our conversations, we started talking about video games and she asked me if i had a PlayStation. When I told her that I had both an a PS3 and a Wii, she proceeded to, out of nowhere, tell me that if you go on the Internet, they have "attachments" for the Wii that will simulate sexual endeavours.


While she is telling me this (Note to self: Go on Internet tonight and Google "Wii Penis Pump". Remember to bring Credit Card!), she tells me that I have had enough time under the heating blanket, and proceeds to slip her hand under it, and cup my beautiful butt cheek for a good second or two before she removes the blanket!

So now I'm thinking, "Hey now! I think this young lass is oh-so-subtly trying to hit on me..."

This second assault was followed by a gruelling, and quite professional, 20 minute workout where I again began to question myself and my new friend's advances.

"Did I REALLY just get hit on? I'm probably just making something out of nothing", i again said to myself.

The answer to my conundrum was finally settled when, at the end of the session, she had me stand facing a wall that had 2 rubber straps hung on them, and she instructed me to stand about 1 foot from the wall, facing it, and pull the straps, kinda like in a rowing motion.

While I'm doing this, I heard her say "No, you aren't quite doing it quite right... try it like this".

She then came up behind me, and plastering herself behind me and putting her hands over mine, began to make a half-hearted show at rowing with me while she proceeded to grind her breasts up and down my back.

It takes a lot to flabbergast me, but folks, I do believe we have a winner. I didn't say one damn word for the entire 5 minute exercise. I just kept on rowing like a loon while this chick had her way with my back.

I once got propositioned while at the dentist by the hygienist while I was in the dentist chair, but I honestly think this recent dirty little doctor's visit took the cake for most surreal moment of my life.

Friz thinks the whole thing is hysterical. It must be so tough for her to be with someone who the whole world wants to bang.

Some days, i just don't know how she can stand it.

I have another visit this Tuesday. Wish me luck.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008


I haven't posted any episodes of the Retarded Policeman in a while, but this one, which is already a few month old, gave me a chuckle when I happened to re-watch it the other day, so I figured I'd share it with you all.

For any of you newcomers, before you get all hatefull on me for showing something that makes fun of the handicapped, please know that this web-series is the brainchild of the lead character, who is a struggling comic actor in Hollywood who also happens to be afflicted with Down's Syndrome. He has been in a few independant films, but, as he has said in a few interviews, nothing has given him greater "exposure" than his Retarded Policeman series which burns up Youtube with every episode thats been aired.

In short, he is a very funny guy who has no problems poking a little fun at himself if he is making people laugh in the process.

So, lighten up, Frances.

p.s. I have been working my sexy fingers to the bone to slowly get all my old posts over to the new site. I think now we go as far back as September 2007, which is alot, but i've still got a ways to go. After i'm done, i'll probably connect all the old Haloscan comments to their respective posts, but I think i'm just gonna let any old, pre-Haloscan comments fall away into the ether. I'm probably the only person who gives a shit about comments from that far back, and I really don't care about them all that much, truth be told, so they'll get the heave-ho.

Monday, July 21, 2008

The Dark Knight Kicked My Ass

So, because I am a lover of all things geeky and comic-booky, I ran out by myself Sunday morning and caught the new Batman movie.

Would anyone think I’m gay if I were to say that it was “Bat-tastic?”

I saw the 9 AM show, for gosh sakes, and the place was almost completely full! What’s the matter with people? Don’t you all have lives? On a Sunday Morning? What happened to going to church and having a day of rest? I thought I was going to be the only heathen in the place at that hour, but apparently 500 other heathens had the same idea.

Anyway, It’s a good movie. A VERY good movie. Director Christopher Nolan is really doing the Batman mythos “right”. This is how Batman really should be done. If he does a few more movies of this quality, I will ALMOST be able to purge my mind of the memory of that abysmal George Clooney Batman abomination.

Christian Bale is cool and on-target as Batman, but he’s almost a supporting character to Heath Ledger’s Joker. It’s almost become cliché now to say “Health Ledger is really good in this film”, but it’s the truth. He came off as manic, funny, and terrifying every time he was on the screen. Ledger’s Joker could very well go down in film history as a villain on par with Hannibal Lecter.

It’s no secret that everyone will be talking about Health Ledger’s performance, but for me the biggest surprise was just how good Aaron Eckhart was as Two-Face. I’ve always loved Eckhart’s work since he played such a good evil bastard in In The Company Of Men, but I think that his portrayal here as tragic figure Harvey Dent, who is transformed into the villan Two-Face, is really going to start getting him finally noticed as a major actor in Hollywood.

So, that is my official review. Go see this movie. And if you are into comic books at all, RUN to see this movie.

Why are you still reading this? Run!

p.s. Yeah, I know. While I was in the process of putting up a bunch of old archived posts this weekend, I accidentally left the rss feed on, so those of you who are subscribed to me got a shitload of posts from me this weekend. Sorry about that. I’d like to promise that it will never happen again, but c’mon… this is ME here. We all know it WILL.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Back To Back

Hey, cool! Another post about me getting old and falling apart!

At this rate, I might just turn this blog into a history of my oncoming aches and pains due to getting older. Maybe we can even start a pool to see if anyone can correctly guess the exact date I will become incontinent and forced to start wearing diapers. Fun fun!

Anyway, as I've bitched about recently, my back has been killing me lately. The fucked up thing about it is, it hurts only when i sleep. About 10 minutes after I wake up, I am completely fine and dandy again.

Well, last week my back pain got really bad. I mean crazy bad. I mean I had to roll out of bed like I was wrapped up in a taco because I couldn't fucking MOVE bad.

So I finally came to the conclusion that it was time to see a doctor again. I went to this guy Wednesday night, who came highly recommended as one of the best orthopedists on Long Island. But come to think of it, that really means shit. Every single person who recommends a doctor to someone ALWAYS says, "He's one of the best in the area". If they are the best, where the Hell are we keeping the shitty ones?

What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, my trip to the doctor.

So, he took some x-rays, gave me the once-over, and recommended I get some "aggressive physical therapy", as my problems seem to have resulted in a back muscle being pulled from my working out, most likely.

Ok, thought I. As the doctor was leaving the examination room, I stopped him and told him I needed to speak with him about something else. He looked annoyed, but turned back to me.

I started to tell him about how my ankle still hasn't healed since I jumped off the roof 2 months ago (again, I'd love to link to THAT wonderful story, but I haven't moved that post over here yet).

Anyway, he stops me mid-sentence and says, "I'm sorry. That's a different issue. We would have to take care of that in another visit".

Excuse me?

Do you need another fucking $15 copay THAT badly that you are going to make me make ANOTHER appointment, wait ANOTHER 2 weeks to see you, so I can tell you something that I can tell you RIGHT FUCKING NOW????

I'm sorry, do I sound upset? I hope it didn't come off that way.

The only highlight of the trip was that the nurse in the office started hitting on me, and she was pretty damn cute. I get that alot. I'm hot, you know.....

p.s. My recent comments widget stopped working all of a sudden yesterday. I've tried recreating it, and it still doesn't work. Damn you blogger! That's it! I'm going back to my old website!

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

My Cat Made Me Feel Old

This is my cat, Simba. I don’t think I’ve ever posted a picture of him before.

I found Simbah back when he was a kitten and about 4 months old. I was living in an apartment complex, and it was the middle of Winter. One day while I was leaving for work, I spied with my little eye, the-kitten-whos-name-was-destined-to-be-Simbah, huddled over a heating grate with a half dozen of his newborn brothers and sisters, basically freezing to death in the snow.

You might think me a heartless bastard to just try to ignore that scene and keep walking, but I had, at the time, just gone through an episode with buying a Bluepoint Himalayan kitten for a girlfriend that cost me about $700, only to fall in love with the thing and have him die 6 months later due to a bad liver. In short, having another cat was the LAST thing on my mind just then.

But, for the next 2 days, every time I trudged through the snow, there were those poor little kittens, fighting for their lives. I finally broke down, and tried to chase the little buggers down in an effort to grab one. Simbah, the slowest of the bunch, is the only one I could nab.

That was over 10 years ago now. He and I have been best buds ever since.

So, how did this cute little feline give me a scare last night?

Friz and Simbah don’t get along too well. Not that there is any open antagonism on either of their parts or anything. More like they just have learned to completely ignore each other.

Friz does all the food shopping in our house, because I am inept at those womanly things. But, because of her cold war with Simbah, she REFUSES to buy the cat food.

So, every 2 months, I run out to the supermarket, and buy 60 cans of cat food, some boxes of dry food, and kitty litter. Since I give him 1 can of food a day, this supply holds him over for 2 months.

I HATE making this trip. I just hate the supermarket in general, because I’m so manly, you see. Anyway, I hate it so much that after each trip, I always think to myself, “Thank goodness I don’t have to do that again until - insert future date here-!

So, last night I came up with the date of the NEXT time I need to buy food. Then I basically froze in horror when I realized with horror that the next time I need to buy food for Simbah, I will be 40 years old!

I can’t handle 40. I really can’t. I’ve mentioned it before (and if I had all my archived posts moved over yet, I could have linked to it), but getting old SCARES ME TO DEATH! That’s not an exaggeration. The thought of getting old terrifies me. It’s really my only fear in life.

Maybe I’ve just been subconsciously avoiding it, but up until last night I really didn’t make the connection that my birthday was looming that close on the horizon.

I really don’t know why I’m getting so worked up over this. Even though I’ll be 40 soon, I am still devastatingly handsome, in killer shape, and still awesome in bed. Oh yeah, and I’m still humble, to boot.

But I still cant help imagining what my next trip to the supermarket to buy cat food will be like in September: No teeth, pants pulled up to my armpits, black socks and sandals, slowly pushing my walker ahead of me and asking the nice young whipper-snapper bag-boy if he would be a dear and carry my bags out to the car for me.

Ok, maybe I won’t change THAT much come September, but getting old still scares the poo outta me.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

My Latest Lie

Wasn't it just yesterday when i told you all that i would stop posting about the site upgrade?

You didn't believe that shit, did you?

Apparently, people arent getting notified in google reader or bloglines that the site is being updated. It has something to do with the fact that i am redirecting my old site name over to my new blogger name.

I KNOW that there are people out there that do this for their site, and it works fine.

Can someone who is clearly smarter than me fill me in on what the Hell i did wrong?

If i can't figure this out in the next day or so, I may just bite the bullet and use my blogspot address.


Edit: Cross out my previous "ARGGGGH!!". Got it all worked out, nice-like. :) Thanks all for testing for me.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The Big Move

Ok, if you are reading this, then the odds are pretty damn good that I have successfully moved my site over to Blogger.

When i showed this site to Earl over the weekend, his reaction was, "Big Fucking deal. It looks just like your old site..."

To which I say, "Mission Accompished, then."

I WANTED this to be pretty seamless, and aside from some hiccups, i think i've got it, by George....

I'm not 100 percent functional yet, but it's getting there. Over time, alittle each week, i will move over my three years of archives, so everything will reside over here in 1 nice and easy spot.

I will probably NOT be moving over the comments though, as it will require some extra work on my part, and if i'm all about ANYTHING, it's that extra work sucks balls. So, for now at least, please excuse me killing off all your past wonderous and dirty comments.

I have ALSO redirected WWW.SLYDESBLOG.COM to point people over to WWW.SLYDEBSLOG.BLOGSPOT.COM, so hopefully the move will be seamless to all you fine people.

So, if you are one of the thousands of hot chicks who have subscribed to me on your google reader, just let me know if you are still getting updates to your RSS feed.

I realize that moving this site, and me being a sick old bastard, have been pretty much all i've been talking about lately. Now that the move is done, i promise to remedy that with some more embarassing stories in the near future.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Movin' On Up

Ok, I have hemmed, I have hawed, I have procrastinated, I have dragged this out just about as much as I possibly could, but I think I have finally decided to move my blog in the next week or so over to Blogger.

I know there were quite a few of you people who were saying Wordpress is the way to go over Blogger, but for my needs, I’m just not seeing it.

I know I can go the Wordpress.org route, and use their software to host my own site, but honestly, if I make this move, Its because I want to do LESS work, not learn something new.

Even if it IS easy to use (I’m sure it is), I think I’ll pass.

Then I looked at Wordpress.com, and I liked it, except for one thing: After I pick a template, it seems that if I want to change some aspects of the template (like margins or whatever), then I have to PAY to upgrade my service in order to alter the CSS. It’s not a lot of money (like $30 a year), but why should I pay for something that I can do with Blogger for free? Can you Wordpress users confirm this?

It’s gonna hurt me to give up this site. There are definitely a few things I see with Blogger that I might just have to swallow and live with, but live with it I shall. In the end, for getting to post stuff easier (and from anywhere.. right now I can only post at home), I think I can learn to live with it.

It will be hard to give up these hand-coded pages, though. This site has been a labor of love (and frustration) for 3 years now. Over time, I will put all these posts up on the new site, to keep everything in one place.

Also, I plan to eventually redirect slydesblog.com to the new blogger site, so you guys shouldn’t need to change your links.

So, this may in fact be my last post on these hallowed halls, depending on how things go. I am 99 percent committed to making the switch…. I just need to convince that stubborn-as-shit final 1 percent to go with the flow.

p.s. On a totally unrelated note: I did NOT end up getting anywhere near the amount of sympathy I wanted with my last post. At least not until the lovely and sexy Stef offered to fly out to Long Island and give me a well-deserved BJ. Good for her, I say!

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Woe Is Me

I’m sorry people, but I don’t think that I got the appropriate amount of pity from you guys concerning my story of sickness and pain in my last post.

So, in the interest of me getting some sympathy, let me now expound upon my weekend plight.

First off, I am “prone” to getting strep, which pretty much sucks. In fact, I got a nasty case of strep throat, like clockwork, every September and January of my life from the age of 12 up through the tender jail-bait age of 18. The frequency of me catching it has decreased over the years, but I can usually still be counted on to have a throat full of razor blades every year or so.

Now, on to the eye infection: Here’s an evolution lesson for ya: The reason we have eyelashes is to protect our eyes from dust and particles that might get into our eyes. But MY eyes, lucky me, are INCREDIBLY sensitive to certain kinds of dust. So much so, that I am SUPPOSED to wash my eyelids with baby shampoo every day.

Of course, I am a lazy shit, so I rarely do this. And on days like Friday (the fourth of July), I paid the price for it.

Whenever this happens to me, I get a real bad pain in my eye, like a burning. It usually lasts a few hours, and then when the pain goes away, I see that there is usually a small white “dot” in the cornea of one of my big beautiful brown eyes. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s usually uncomfortable enough that I have to keep a hand on my eyelid for the day, to keep it from irritating my eye. In short, it sucks.

Usually whenever this happens to me, the offending white spot is a small dot, like I mentioned, or sometimes when its worse, it looks like a small white line. What’s worse is that the bigger the dot, the more sensitive my eyes get to light until it goes away.

When I woke up on Friday, my right eye was literally about 1/3 white. I have never had a flare-up that bad in my life. We had a big party to go to for the 4th, but there was NO WAY I could venture out outside. Even walking past an open window made me reel back into the darkness like Nosferatu.

So, not wanting to disappoint my little one, I sent him and Friz off to the party, and I spent my 4th of July this year sitting alone in a dark room with a warm compress over my eyes while I listened to my ipod. This can easily go down as the worst 4th of July I have ever had.

Saturday, we were supposed to be throwing a BBQ for some friends, but as luck would have it, the infection traveled to my OTHER eye, so I was down for the count that day as well. Party cancelled. Yay me!

I’m all better now, but I have just suffered through one of the most uncomfortable weekends of my life, and had a shitty holiday to boot, and I want my requisite PITY, dammit!

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

Yeah, I know, I know. I haven't posted in over a week.

This really shouldn't have come as shock to you all. I DID say that, once my father came up to visit, I probably wouldn't post for a while. I just had a rare moment to myself last week to have time to post about me peeing the bed and other fine accomplishments, but that post was just a happy surprise, really. I hadn't anticipated being able to post for a week or 2.

Add to that that I got a nice case of strep throat while my dad was in town (good timing, that), and that this annoying eye infection that I get from time to time has reared its ugly head yesterday, and believe me when I say that blogging has been the LEAST thing on my mind.

Anyway, some bullets for ya'll.....

-My dad left on Wednesday. It was good to have him here again, even if only for 2 weeks. I am actually thankful that he got to stay so long this time around. I haven't been able to see him for more than a weekend once a year for about a decade now, so this was nice. I miss him.

-Because I don't have enough ways for me to act like a child, I ventured out in my strep-throated delirium last week and got myself a Playstation 3. I told myself that I was just getting it for the Blu-Ray player, so of course I had to test the puppy out, and got myself the latest RAMBO movie. Damn, but Stallone blows shit up real good in HD. Then of course, I, being the shopping-conscious sort that I am, decided that I had to at least TRY OUT the gaming part of the system. You know, to make sure it worked, you see. So I picked up the most violent fucking game ever made, Grand Theft Auto 4. My god, the carnage... I am in love.

-I have been sitting here, squinting at the screen thru my eye infection trying to post this, and have come to the conclusion that it is taking me too long. That tears it. I need to switch my blog, and soon. I just have to be able to actually SEE the damn screen to do it.