A group of my buddies were hanging out the other day, and we got to talking about weird people we know. We were trying to see who could "out-weird" the others and have the honor of knowing the strangest person. Kinda like a "Dinner for Schmucks" thing.....
I thankfully know a boatload of fucked up people, so i won hands-down. At least that's how i saw it. Anyway, after all the laughter died down, we decided to throw the spotlight on ourselves, and asked the group what THEIR weirdest trait was.
Being gorgeous and hung like a ten-pole might lead you to believe that i don't have ANY weirdness in this fine body, but you might be surprised to know that i WILL admit to an odd quirk here or there. Nothing to put me in the looney bin, mind you, but there ARE a few things about me that people might find a tad off.
Here's one for you.....
I refuse to use a knife.
I don't mean that i won't use a knife as a weapon. Fuck that noise... i'll happily cut you if you so much as look at me funny or take my last Dorito.
No, silly. I mean that when I'm eating a meal, i will do every damn thing in my power to not have to cut my food with a knife.
It's been going on as long as i can remember. I can recall, being a young tyke, and my grandfather would cook a nice big Italian dinner every Sunday. Part of said meal consisted of huge honkin' meatballs. I think i could have thrown these things down a bowling alley.
Anyway, while everyone else in the family would cut the meatballs up and eat them in pieces, i preferred to stab it with my fork and eat it like a lollipop. Everyone used to look at me and say that it was cute. Of course it was cute... i was 6 and adorable. Doing that in a restaurant at 45 loses its appeal for some people.
But it doesn't end with meatballs. Even when presented with a knife, i can routinely be seen stabbing chicken cutlets, skirt steak, meatloaf, or anything else that i can fit into my mouth (Watch it, now!) with my fork, and nibbling it down.
The ONLY time i will use a knife is if i am at a restaurant, where waving your food in the air like you just don't care is generally frowned upon. Even then, I'll cut the food into big bites that would probably choke most people. Luckily, i have a good gag reflex (Hey! I said Watch it!).
The big question is, why do i do it? Laziness? Stupidity? Not giving a shit? Trying to show off my impressive swallowing skills? (OK, now I'm just asking for it!)
I honestly do not know. All i know is that i don't plan on stopping anytime soon.
And to anyone curious about how much i can swallow at one time, the answer is..... more than YOU'VE got, big guy!
My friends, I
do believe that we have finally gotten to the point where there is just too much
shit out there on the interwebs……
I’m sure I’m
not alone here in my frustration, am I?
I mean, how
the HELL am I supposed to look up stuff, when 999,999 of the million things that
are returned from my web search are complete bullshit?
out an example, shall we? A HYPOTHETICAL example. Let me say that again…. I am
not saying that the scenario below has ever actually happened… it’s all
make-believe, you get me?
Let’s say a
particular person, perhaps a very WELL-HUNG person, decides to sit his muscular
ass down in his office chair to look up, oh, I don’t know… let’s say he fancied
some midget porn.
We’ve all been
So, he bring
up his trusty GOOGLE browser and types the aforementioned “midget porn” into his
search bar, and clicks “SEARCH”.
Oh sure, our
hypothetical stud will be sure to get some midget porn…..
every fucking other type of thing in the world that has the words ‘midget’ or
‘porn’ in it. Shit, even if you use the trick of putting your search all in
quotes, which is SUPPOSED to return you the ONLY THE EXACT PHRASE YOU ARE
SEARCHING ON, you still get a complete hodge-podge of shit returned to you. It
just doesn’t work.
Do you realize
how much time I (er… I meant, our hypothetical person) had to sift through
before he got to see some honest-to-goodness little people going at it?
using “Porn” as an example is diluting my point a bit.
gears and say that you wanted to Google “Holly Hunter”.
Even if you
put her name in quotes, for every link about Holly Hunter that were returned,
you’d ALSO get a link about:
around your Christmas tree
Hunting in the
on Facebook whose first name is Holly! Every fucking one!
You get the
I don’t know,
maybe it’s me, but it just seems to me that in this golden age of information, I
should be able to search for EXACTLY what I am looking for…..
And any rumors
going around that I ended up touching myself to those pictures of Holly Hobbie
are completely unfounded, I swear…..
This little thing called work is making it harder and harder to be a blogger.
The reasons are many. Here are some of them:
Well, lets get the obvious out of the way, shall we? While it is true that they pay me to sit here and look beautiful, sometimes, just sometimes, they also expect me to get shit done. Bullshit, i know, but there it is. It's apparently not enough that i have to get up at an ungodly hour and drag my toned ass in here, but once i get here, they frown upon me watching porn all day and expect me to be productive. And lately, work has been a real bee-yotch and i havent had as much time to post as i used to. My post count for the year has been dreadful, and its all their fault. At least, thats my excuse.
Then, to compound matters, about 6 months ago, it became harder and harder to get Blogger working here at work. You would not believe the fucking hoops i have to jump through in order to get one of my incredibly important posts out to you all to eagerly consume. Sometimes, i can't type in the little blogger window. Sometimes, none of the buttons work. Sometimes, i'm drunk. Look, let's not split hairs and agree to blame all my troubles on this place, and not on me, k? The point is, it's been getting more and more difficult to post something.
This week, they made things even WORSE by finally blocking any known "Blogger" websites. So, what this means is that if your blog is "hotbitch.blogspot.com" or "blogger.com" or "Wordpress.com", then chances are that i cant even visit your blog here at work anymore. The only reason i am able to even post THIS now is because i pay for "www.slydesblog.com" so i guess the security software here hasnt been smart enough to figure out that this is a blog, too. Either that or some nerdy web guru has correctly deduced that my prose is so damn insightful and important to the world that they decided to let me to continue to post. In any event, if you have noticed that i havent been visiting you as much as i used to, this is why.
And before you say, "Hey, hot stuff! Why don't you just start blogging from home?", i say to you.... yeah, thats probably not gonna happen. As much as i love blogging, i REALLY love blogging on someone else's time. When it cuts into my valuable time at home of playing Xbox and watching porn, it suddenly becomes a lot less fun to blog.
So, what does this mean?
Honestly, not much. I'll still try to get posts out when i can. Since the Summer, i seem to have cut back to a "once a week" thing, and it has honestly been feeling "right" to me. At least for now.
The more troubling thing is that i am now effectively cut off from visiting 99% of all your fine sites, which sucks because i honestly enjoy reading them, and looking at pictures of you while wishing i could bang you.
So, what it comes down to is that while i won't be interjecting my witty comments as much as i used to on your wonderful blogs, i promise to try to turn the video games off early every few nights so i can at least check in and say "Hey, how YOU doin'?"
I mean not YOU people. YOU are all smart as aces. I'm talking about everyone ELSE, who doesn't read this blog....
Case in point:
Last week I took my son to the Long Island Game Farm. We try to get there every year. Mini-Me loves to feed the giraffes and shit. Wait, that came out wrong. I mean that he likes to feed the giraffes and other stuff there, like the deer and the goats. I Didn't mean that he likes to go there to feed the giraffes and then go poop. Although, that might be fun for him, too.
Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, stupid people.
Anyway, we got to the game farm, and we went right to Mini-Me's favorite spot where he can get bottles of milk and feed the baby goats.
I spied a young college chick behind the counter where I am supposed to purchase the bottles, at $3 per bottle. I walked up to her, and the following conversation took place:
Stud: I'd like to buy one bottle please.
Dolt: One bottle or two?
Stud: errrrr, one.
Dolt: That'll be $3.
Stud: Ok. (I handed her a $20)
Dolt: (Staring blankly at the $20). I don't have any change.
Dolt: I can't make change for you.
Stud: You can't break a $20?
Stud: Oooookay... so what do we do now?
Dolt: I don't know.
Stud: Well, can you go GET change from somewhere?
Dolt: Yeah, I guess. Wait here, I'll be right back. (as she lumbered away, she took the $20 from my hand. I wasn't happy about that, but I let it go)
Dolt: (returning after 5 minutes and an angry line of people waiting has now formed behind me) Ok, i got change from the guy running the Carousel.
Dolt: That'll be $3.
Stud: Are you kidding me? I handed you a $20 already!
Dolt: Oh, right!
Stud: Not to mention the fact that if I HAD $3, you wouldn't have had to get change in the first place!
Dolt: Ok, got it. Here you go. (She proceeded to hand me TWO bottles, and $5)
Stud: What is this?
Dolt: What do you mean?
Stud: I gave you $20 for a $3 bottle. You handed me TWO bottles, which I didn't want, and since you only gave me $5 change I am forced to believe that the price of milk has reached dangerous proportions since I just apparently paid $7.50 per bottle.
Stud: I only wanted ONE bottle!
Dolt: Oh, OK. (She took the 2nd bottle from me). We good?
Stud: No, we are a far fucking way from good. You have now just charged me $15 for this bottle of milk!
Dolt: OK, I'm really confused.
Stud: You gave me the wrong amount of change!
Dolt: Oh, OK. Here, give me $2 so i can give make change easier.
Stud: What the fuck? That doesn't even make any sense! Unless the government is now issuing $19 bills?
Dolt: I don't understand.
Stud: Now, That's an understatement! Look.... I bought something from you for $3 and I already gave you $20. Just give me $17 and I can walk away and just pretend that we have never met each other before.
Dolt: OK, if you say so. I just want this to be over.
So, in the end, i got my change, Mini-Me got to feed a goat, and i went on my way wondering just what the fuck kind of schooling kids get today that basic fucking math baffles them.
Let's all pray that Apple never stops including a calculator app on their Iphones, or this world is doomed....
Haven’t we all JUST begun to heal from the worst national tragedy to ever fall upon this great nation? To hit us again with another terrorist act is just too much.
No, I’m not talking about anything the Taliban might cook up. The insidious plot that I’M referring to was hatched right here in the good old U.S.A.
I am, of course, talking about the malignant tumor that was thrust upon us two years ago, Rebecca Black’s hit song, Friday.
Ah, who could forget when a young Miss Black bestowed upon us what can only be described as THE WORST FUCKING SONG EVERY WRITTEN!
Ah, maybe I’m being too hard on it. After all, which one of CAN’T relate to those immortal words, “Kickin’ it, Kickin’ it, YEAH!”
Ok, I’m standing by my initial assessment. It’s the worst song ever written.
Or, is it?
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Alison Gold and her new video which is currently burning up Youtube, Chinese Food.
Did anyone else just sit through that entire fucking mess?
After watching that, I can honestly now give Rebecca Black some props. Sure, Friday sucked Donkey Balls, but at least it wasn’t fucking racist to boot! Giant Panda Bears….chicks in Kabuki makeup…. Are you FUCKING kidding me?
And if you have a keen eye, you can no doubt spy that the same dude wrote and produced both songs. It’s the rapper dude in the middle of each song, in case you couldn’t figure it out. His name is Patrice Wilson and if he is NOT being punched in the balls with a crowbar at this very minute, there is something very, very wrong with the universe.
I’ve mentioned here before how somehow, some way, at some point in my life, I became one of the people that I used to make fun of, and started buying every single fucking product that has a little Apple sticker on it that I can get my hands on.
I really don’t know what happened. One day, I finally decided that I wanted an MP3 player, and broke down and bought myself an IPod Mini. A year later, seeing that it didn’t have enough space, I went out and got myself a 60gb IPod Classic. Then THAT became too bulky to slip into my tight Chinos, so I bought an IPod Touch.
I thought that would be the end of my Apple obsession, but then one day, I found myself ditching my old phone and upgrading myself to an IPhone 4S. That was over a year and a half ago, and I haven’t looked back. On the contrary, I’ve gone all-in where Apple is concerned. From Apple TV, to every Apple peripheral under the sun, I find myself eagerly awaiting each new product that Apple decides to spew forth.
Anyway, as the title of this post suggests, I use Verizon as my cell phone carrier. They are more expensive than most, but I’ve found that they also provide the best coverage. When the IPhone 5 came out earlier this year, I of course HAD TO HAVE IT. So, I called Verizon and they informed me that my 2 year contract was not up until January 2014. I then asked them about upgrading early, since they have ALWAYS allowed for that, and they informed me that my Early Upgrade date was May 2013. Since this all happened a few months before that, I resigned myself to not getting the IPhone 5 after all. Since there is always a new Iphone coming out about every 20 minutes or so, I just figured I’d pounce on the next one when it came out.
Then, like the tide, last month the inevitable IPhone 5S came out. I wanted it. I needed it. I HAD to have it, and since i am currently falling in valid “Early Upgrade” range, I figured my ability to upgrade would be a done deal.
When I called Verizon, they told me that if I wanted to upgrade now, it would cost me $600 for the new phone! When I told them that was a mistake because I am eligible for an early upgrade, they informed me that they “cancelled the early upgrade program”.
When I explained to the rep that I was more than happy to sign up RIGHT THEN AND THERE for a new 2 year contract (something that they used to get a hard-on for), they told me that they would not consider it until my contract’s normal end date in January.
My friends, I am baffled.
I called this company myself. They didn’t call me.
I told them I was ready to give them my credit card so they could bill me a few hundred dollars for a new phone which I in NO WAY need.
I then told them I would gladly sign up for their ridiculously expensive 2 year deal, ensuring that the net price of my phone would, after 2 years, end up costing me about 14 billion dollars.
And they told me “No thanks”.
I just don’t get it. I’m not used to getting turned down. Especially by chicks.
That really stings. I’m not sure how you “average” looking guys do it…..
Some buddies and I were hanging out this weekend and the topic of weddings came up.
Specifically, we were trading stories of the “weirdest” weddings we ever went to.
I don’t want to brag, but I think I won.
In the Summer of 92, I was dating a wonderful young lass named Maria. Maria was cute, nice, and quite hot. She was also as dumb as a box of rocks, but hey, I never discriminated against the mentally impaired. Plus, did I mention she was hot?
Anyway, Maria had one more thing stacked against her….. she came from the TRASHIEST of white trash families. Seriously. She made Honey Boo Boo look like a fucking debutante.
Anyway, I had only been dating her for a few weeks, and I had never met any members of her family yet, when she asked me to go with her to her sister’s wedding. Being the perfect boyfriend, I of course said “Sure!”, never realizing just how badly I was going to regret my decision.
The fun started when I picked Maria up, and noticed that she had a nasty scratch on her face and a bruise on her shoulder. Rocketing into protective ‘boyfriend’ mode, I asked her who’s ass I needed to kick to right this grievous wrong.
She didn’t answer me, but after some more prodding while we drove to the wedding, she finally admitted to me that the person who banged her up was her sister. Not the sister getting married, but sister #3.
The story she then told me went like this: The bride to be was marrying a black man, and certain members of her family really wanted to keep the “White” in “White Trash” and were forbidding her from going through with the wedding. The most vocal of them was sister #3 who, on the morning of the wedding, had some words with the bride that quickly escalated into a knock down brawl. Maria jumped in to try to stop it, but before long all three of them were beating on each other.
Now, if they were all in sexy underwear and started to make out with each other in the middle of it, it would have naturally have been a huge turn on, but since none of that actually happened, the whole mess seemed quite sad.
Anyway, we arrived at the wedding, which I learned was being held in the backyard of the groom’s family’s house. We were joined about 30 minutes later by the mother of the bride, Maria’s mom. She sure seemed like a nice lady, but I have to question a woman who comes to her oldest daughter’s wedding holding a pack of Camel’s and wearing a housedress. I heard her say some wonderfully racist things that made me squirm before she sat her ass down and waited for the wedding to begin.
We quickly sat down on some folding chairs and the wedding procession began. As the bride walked down the aisle, I couldn’t help but noticed that she had a HUGE black eye and scratches down her arm. My coy date leaned over to me to let me know, “That wasn’t from me.. that was my sister’s work!”
Anyway, it was a beautiful scene. The bride, bruised and bloodied, walked slowly down the aisle, the groom stood eloquently in his white tuxedo, when suddenly, from inside the house, the wedding march song suddenly got cut off, instantly replaced by a wonderful ditty by the group N.W.A.
I shit you not.
Not being a connoisseur of their fine work, I can’t tell you the exact name of the ballad that blasted the wedding reception from one of the bedroom windows, but I can tell you that there were 4-letter words in abundance, and I specifically recalled the lyrics “Go fuck Whitey”. Ah, the memories.
Apparently, the groom’s little brother was as happy about this lovely union as the bride’s sister was, so he decided to change up the play list to show his displeasure.
The rest happened very fast.
I heard the groom’s father yell “Son of Bitch! That little bastard!”, and race off into the house.
Then I heard the sound of a scuffle from within the house, followed by the sudden scratch of a CD being yanked from its player.
That was followed by the groom’s brother running from the house, dressed in shorts and a wife-beater, being chased by his dad, wielding a baseball bat.
THAT scene caused the rest of the families, just like the Hatfields and McCoys, to quickly take sides and join in the fray.
What happened next cannot honestly be explained, at least not by me.
In short, a fight broke out of EPIC proportions. Punches were thrown. Chairs were launched. Food was massacred. At one point I was hiding behind a shrub with the priest.
If you put the scene into fast motion it would have looked like one of those old black and white movies where everyone gets into a big pie fight. Except, instead of pies, people were throwing Spare Ribs and Chicken wings.
Anyway, in the end, cooler heads prevailed (or maybe there was just no more food to throw), but the happy bride and groom got married after all, and I went home vowing to NEVER GO OUT WITH THIS BITCH AND HER CRAZY FAMILY AGAIN!
Of course, as I mentioned at the beginning, she was hot, so I broke half of that promise before too long, but that, my friends, is a blog tale for another day…..
Have I ever shown this before? I'm not sure but i dont think so.
I think comedian Patton Oswalt is pretty damn funny. I never really watched King of Queens, but i've always liked his stand-up and his bit parts when he was getting his start on Reno 911.
Anyway, Oswalt was a recurring character on KoQ, and as the story goes, they had him in this bit "birthday party" scene, but they gave him no lines and nothing to do, so he decided to just fuck around and see if he could get away with doing, well, literally NOTHING for the entire scene.
And NOTHING is exactly what he did. He didn't talk. He didnt move. He didn't blink. Hell, I'm not even sure if he was breathing, but watching this clip makes me laugh and creeps me out at the same time.
I just find it extremely funny that no one paid enough attention to notice what he was doing and to not let this go out on TV as the final cut.
When I decide to record something on the DVR, it is because i have a desire to, you know, actually WATCH IT.
Funny how that works, right? I record a movie, and then, within the next few days, i sit my tight, toned ass down on my couch and watch it. When i'm done watching it, i delete it.
I'm pretty sure that's how the DVR was designed to be used.
But Friz just doesn't use it that way, and it REALLY pisses me the fuck off.
The first problem is that she records EVERYTHING. She records shit that she regularly watches, shit that she has never watched but a friend told her was good, shit that she knows absolutely NOTHING about but it has a cool title, EVERY piece of shit that they throw on the Lifetime channel.......
As i said, thats annoying as hell, but what REALLY gets my goat is that SHE NEVER FUCKING WATCHES ANY OF IT!!!!
It just sits on the DVR for months and months. Every time i ask "Hey, are you ever going to watch this shit?", I always get the same answer of, "Yes, dont delete that!"
So the DVR just fills up with more and more crap.
What REALLY pisses me off is that every damn time i walk into the den, she is just channel surfing while mumbling that there is nothing good on. Nothing good on? How about perusing through the 14,000 hours of complete nonsense that you feel the need to save!!! It drives me batty.
Right now, the oldest offenders on my DVR are last year's season finales of Greys's Anatomy and Two and a Half Men. Two shows that i don't watch. Two shows that i hate. Two shows that you would have to staple my penis to my coffee table to get me to sit through.
But there they stay, forever clogging up my DVR and greeting me with their names every time I try to see what we have recorded.
And of course, the WORST part is that these shows are filling up my hard drive space, when i could be using that precious space for good, quality programming that i enjoy.
If i miss one more episode of The Bad Girls Club because of this shit, i think i'm going to cry.
My birthday was this week. I've spoken before about my crazy fear of birthdays, and of getting older. I know I've babbled about it dozens of times. Here and Here are two examples.
I'm not sure what it is about getting older that scares the shit out of me. Maybe its that whole "dying" part?
It's just very strange because i really have no fear of anything else in my life except the idea that every year i inch closer to death.
And it's really odd which birthdays bother me. I was SURE that turning 30 would kill me, but in the end, it was no big deal. Turning 36 REALLY bothered me, but that was because my first serious girlfriend was 36 and at the time, i thought 36 was OLD, so when i turned 36 myself, i kinda freaked out alittle. 40 Really bothered me, too.
And this week, i turned 45. 45 scares me. A lot. I can no longer tell people that i am in my EARLY 40's. The term "Mid-40's" makes me want to poop myself. Also, i was thinking about it the other day and i came to the conclusion that there is a very real chance that i have now lived more of my life that i have life left to live. I cannot explain to you how bowel-watering frightening that is to me.
I don't know why the concept of getting older scares me so damn much, but i fight the aging process every damn day. I am always trying to stay active, and i work out like a fiend. I can honestly say that i am currently in the best shape of my life but no matter how much weight i lift or how many miles i climb on the StairMaster, the clock still keeps fucking ticking.
If i was going to analyze myself, i think that the roots of my hatred of aging had to do with the fact that i have the worst possible birthday a kid could ask for. I have a friend who's birthday is the day before Christmas, and she always bitches that is a shitty birthday to have because she often gets jipped on presents, but i will hold my ground and attest that mine is worse.
My Birthday is on September 2nd, which fell on Labor Day this year.
Think about that for a second. As a kid, my birthday almost ALWAYS fell on the last day of Summer vacation. Here I was, a young Slyde enjoying his summer, and every time i thought of my upcoming birthday, I had to remember that the next day started another shitty year of school! I spent almost all of my birthdays watching the fucking Labor Day Jerry Lewis telethon, dammit!
Do you know how many people would get me "Back to School" clothes for my birthday? Fuckers.......
Anyway, i am now officially 45, which sucks.
But on the bright side, i still look fabulous and am hung like a donkey, so that's gotta count for something.....
I think I've mentioned this before, but every Friday night, Mini-Me and I walk to 7-11, where we buy Slurpees, some snacks, and head home to watch a movie.
We've been doing this for a few years now, and it's always been a fun little thing to do with him, and he looks forward to it so much that it makes my heart hurt.
We've gone through most of the old standards..... From Jumanji, to Abbot and Costello, to Star Wars, and just about everything in between.
It's been getting harder and harder to find some good, wholesome stuff that a kid can watch that completely doesnt suck ASS for the adult.
Seriously, there is a LOT of total shit out there that anyone over 10 years old simply CANNOT sit through without puking.
So, one day i had the idea to try watching Little House on The Prarie with Mini-Me. I didnt know if he would be game for it, as its mostly a show about yucky girls and stuff, but i had a friend who had the first season on DVD, so i thought i'd give it a try.
I am secure enough in my manhood to admit that when i was a young'un, i used to LOVE Little House. I never mentioned it to any of my friends, of course, but i watched it religiously just the same. You know what? Screw them. They were probably sitting at home watching it, too.
Anyway, we watched the first episode and he LOVED IT.
I mean, really, really loved it. I was hoping he would enjoy the show and it would be a nice diversion to throw on once in a while, but my little man wants to devour this show!
Any day that we have a stretch of free time, he begs me to watch another episode.... and another... and another. Amazon is barely able to keep up with my purchase orders, as we continue to tear through the DVD's one after the other.
We're currently nearing the end of season 3, and i am happy to report that season 4 is all ready and waiting for us on top of the DVD player.
I must say, that show was ahead of its damn time. Those episodes are so well-written, and well-acted, that i find myself watching it with a big doofy grin on my face.
And, they take me back to my own childhood, when i used to watch Little House myself. Sometimes, while we're watching it, I glance over at Mini-Me and see such an expression of joy and wonder on his little face, that it makes me all giddy inside. It makes me very happy to have a great old show like this that we can watch together that both can get some enjoyment from.
Because that's what it's all about, isnt it? It sure as hell SHOULD be.
After our Little House marathons, i pick up the little tyke, and put the tuckered little guy to bed.
Then I go downstairs and watch porn.
That seems to fufil the ONE thing that Little House doesnt seem to be able to provide me....
When the Summer's over, so will be my lack of posting (also over will be the torrid summer affair I'm having with that hunky lifeguard!).
Anyway, last week Jimmy Fallon put this together, and i think it's aces. I always liked Fallon. I think he was the best thing about Saturday Night Live during the years he was on it. When he would crack Horatio Sanz up during a skit, it would always make me think of those classic Tim Conway/Harvey Korman skits on the old Carrol Burnett show.
Yeah, i guess I'm old. But i still look hot as FUCK.
Well, i am continuing to be a lazy stay-about this Summer. Not posting much, not visiting other people's blogs, really not doing much of anything except floating around my pool and doing as little work as possible.
But that's OK, because the Summer is now officially more than half over, and then the days will get super short, and I'll get all melancholy and depressed, so i am going to make the most out of the next few weeks.
Look, what I'm trying to say is I barely had the energy to write even THIS lazy post today.
Anyway, by now you have no doubt heard that our good local friend, ex New York congressman Anthony Weiner, has ONCE again made a complete ass out of himself, by getting caught up in another sexting scandal.
Is this guy for reals or what?
I mean, I make an ass out of myself all the time. I've become something of an expert on it. But, for me, when i do something stupid, my small circle of friends get to see me embarrass myself, and then i go home to lick my wounds.
But this fucking guy, this elected official, disgraced himself to the world last year as a major-league pervert.
He lost his job. He almost lost his wife. He became the butt of every weiner-joke anyone has ever told.
Then he went to 'get help'. He went into seclusion to seek professional help for his addiction and to try to save his marriage.
Look, I'm not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill here. Bottom line is, the guy was being A GUY (i.e. a perv) and he got caught. The PROBLEM is that if you happen to be in the public eye, the scandal and embarrassment is much much worse.
So, in THAT respect, i feel for the guy. And a few months ago, when he had the guts to try to rebuild his life and run for Mayor of New York City, I had to give the guy some respect.
But then WHAT happens?
It turns out that he has NEVER STOPPED SENDING PICTURES OF HIS DICK TO WOMEN!
Nope! Through all the talk about rehabilitation, and forgiveness, and learning from his mistakes, this jackass kept on sexting chicks.
The only difference was that THIS time, he thought he was being super sneaky....
You see, THIS time, he didn't use his real name.
No sir! This time, he used the clever code-name of CARLOS DANGER.
Seriously. Carlos Danger. It sounds like something a 8 year old would name a Mexican Secret Agent.
But, whatever. At least the New York taxpayers got SOMETHING out of this scandal. The link HERE takes you to a Carlos Danger name generator, which will give you your very own Anthony Weiner-like name so you can begin your very OWN sexting adventures!
My name? Mateo Scourge!
I cant wait to send you chicks pictures of my hog under my new Nom De Plum!
But first, you've gotta go to that site and get your OWN sexting name.
Wow, i think this is the longest I've gone without posting in ages... maybe ever.
I know you missed me, you missed me.... now the law of the land dictates that you now have to kiss me.
Anyway, i wish i could say that i have not been posting because i was out somewhere in the Middle East wearing my whip and fedora while discovering the Ark of the Covenant or something, but alas, the truth is not so exciting.
No, the TRUTH is, i just love Summer. I fucking LOVE it. I wait all year for these 3 months to come around, and when they do, i busy myself with so much Summer parties, frolicking, and general fun, that i really haven't had time to post.
Which brings me to a "Dear Abbey"-style question i wanted to run by you all.
About 2 months ago, I got asked to a party that was scheduled for this past Saturday. The people in question throwing the party are kinda pains in the asses, and i really didn't want to waste one of my valuable summer Saturdays hanging with them, but i knew that if i DIDN'T go to this particular party that I'd never hear the end of it, so i R.S.V.P'ed that i would attend.
For the past 2 months, all i kept hearing from these people was "You'd better not miss our party!".
This past Friday (the day before the party), i get a text from this couple saying simply "Party for tomorrow rescheduled due to weather. Party is now Sunday! Be there!"
What the FUCK?
I already had plans for Sunday, so i politely texted back that due to the change in dates, we weren't going to be able to make it.
Within minutes I got a text back:
"No, you HAVE to make it! Can't you cancel or reschedule your other event?"
That, my friends, is pretty fucking ballsy if you ask me.
When i texted back saying that i couldn't reschedule the other event, I received back:
"Well, we DID have SUNDAY listed as the rain date"
So, my question for all you fine folks is this:
When you R.S.V.P. to go to an event where they list a rain date, are you ALSO R.S.V.P.-ing to the rain date as well? Because that's the load of crap that these people were trying to sling my way this past weekend.
Because, I'm calling bullshit on that noise. If i can make your rain date, i will, but i am not blocking out my entire weekend two months in advance for your shitty party AND your potential shitty party rain date.
Do you realize how popular i am? The only way I'm committing to giving you a full weekend of my Summer time is if YOU are committing to getting me a whip-cream orgy at the Playboy mansion.
Generally speaking, my dreams are usually pretty fucked up. It must be a sign of my stratospheric intelligence. Yeah, that must be it.
Anyway, over the years, I've had bad dreams, good dreams, sad dreams, happy dreams.....
.... but I don't think I've ever had a FUNNIER dream that i had last night.
The dream started where i got kidnapped.
Someone puts a bag over my head, so i can't see, and throws me in the back of a van.
Really funny so far, right?
After we travel for a bit, my kidnapper carries me somewhere and throws me into what feels like a basement. I can hear what sounds like about a dozen other people in there with me, and it appears like we have ALL been kidnapped.
The kidnapper pulls the bag off my head, and i find myself in complete darkness. I cannot see a thing.
Then i feel a gun put to the back of my head, and the kidnapper tells me:
"You all have ONE MINUTE to start doing something that you like to do with your hands, that makes you feel good..... you all KNOW what I'm talking about!"
So, there i was, in the dark, not believing what this sicko was asking me (and everyone else down there with me) to do. I stood there, frozen.
"30 seconds! You better all start doing something that makes you feel good! Get going or I am going to blow off the head of anyone who isn't doing it!"
So, with my life on the line, i decide that its time to put my self respect aside. Besides, as i said, the room was pitch dark.. i couldn't see a thing, so no one could see ME anyway.
I drop my pants, and begin to have a fun time with Big Willy.
I'm in the middle of going at it, when the kidnapper says:
"OK, on the count of three, i am going to turn the lights back on! Do NOT stop what you are doing! Anyone stopping will be shot!"
Fearing for my life, I keep going.....
The kidnapper then says:
"3.....2....1.... Turn on the lights!"
As the lights come on, i look around, pants around my ankles, to find that I am the only person in the room masturbating. Everyone else is standing around doing needlepoint.
The kidnapper looks at me and says:
"What the Hell are you doing, you sick bastard! Get your mind out of the gutter!"
It was pretty much a given that I'd see this film opening weekend, wasn't it?
After all, I've spoken about my man-love of zombies for years now. I don't know what it is about those adorable, shambling, undead cuties, but since i first saw the original Dawn of the Dead back in the 80's, i have loved loved LOVED me some zombie goodness.
My biggest gripe about zombies nowadays is that it's just not cool to like zombies anymore. Between the zombie TV shows, books, and movies EVERYWHERE you look nowadays, people are starting to roll their eyes and groan whenever a new zombie-themed project is announced.
Last year there was even a movie about a zombie/human LOVE STORY, for gosh sakes!
That's right, "zombies" are apparently the new "vampires".
But you know what? Fuck it. I'm staying on team Jacob (er... i mean, Undead). I've been a die-hard fan since the beginning, and i still love those cute rotting corpses too much to abandon them now.
In case you don't know, World War Z tells the story of a dude played by Brad Pitt (oooo, dreamy!), who finds himself at the center of a worldwide zombie outbreak.
First off, this movie is based off of the Max Brooks novel of the same name, which came out a few years back, that i fucking LOVED.
The issue that many people are having with the movie is that, except for the title, and the fact that people eat each other in it, this movie has absolutely NOTHING to do with the book. Nothing at all. I just don't understand why they would go to the trouble of securing the rights to what was a VERY popular and successful book, and then decide to throw the entire thing away. And believe me, this isn't me being nit picky..... NOTHING from the book, not storyline, nor characters, nor situations, occurs in the movie. It's just bizarre.
This is probably the part of my review where you would expect me to say i hated WWZ, but you know what?
I really really REALLY enjoyed World War Z. The zombies in this film are unlike anything we've seen before. Gone is the zombie behavior that we've grown to know and love.... zombies in the world of WWZ don't shamble over to their prey and begin slowly to dine on their victims brains.
No, the zombies in World War Z are a massive, chaotic ball of energy, exhibiting a virus-like hive mentality. Simply put, they run at you really fast, quickly bite you to infect you, and then jump away looking for their next victim. Ten seconds later, the newly bitten person turns into a zombie, and joins the group to begin biting on their own. It's an interesting take on a theme that has become kinda stale.
And damn, does it make for some great action scenes. The attacks on Philadelphia and Israel were so chaotic and fast paced that they put you on the edge of your seat.
The rumor is that Brad Pitt championed this film because he is one of the highest paid actors in history that doesn't have a film franchise under his belt, and this is planned to be a three-picture trilogy.
After seeing World War Z, that makes this little undead-lover a very happy camper indeed.
My little man graduated Elementary school this week.
For even a macho man like myself, that little fact made me as teary-eyed as it made me proud.
I cannot BELIEVE that he will be moving on to Middle School in September. That CAN'T be right, can it? Surely not. I mean, i JUST dropped him off to Kindergarten YESTERDAY!
It sure as Hell FEELS like yesterday, anyway.
I remember that first day, walking him to school since the weather was so nice. Holding his little hand as we crossed the street. I remember him getting to school and deciding he was sick of carrying his knapsack and throwing it to the ground, defiantly telling the teacher aids, "I'm not carrying this anymore!".
I remember going to his school plays, his father-son gym nights, all of the school trips that i would chaperon since the teachers were ALWAYS overjoyed to have a man come along for a change to help take the boys to the rest rooms.
I remember going to parent teacher nights, and finding a note hidden in his desk, saying "I KNEW you would look in my desk to see how neat i was... i love you Daddy!"
I remember the countless nights of sitting with him, through his tears, trying to get him through some homework assignment that he kept telling himself he was "too stupid to understand". I assured him he was NOT stupid at all. In the end, I am happy to report that all assignments were completed, and done well.
I remember starting "Story Time" with him when he was 2 years old. I would read to him in bed at night. Every night. It is now 8 years later, and i STILL read to him every night, although i suspect he's starting to do it more for ME, than for him.
I remember the school fights, the tears, the awards, and the laughter......
I remember all of it....
And, for the life of me, I cannot BELIEVE how much of it has passed me by already.
The number one thing people tell you when you have a child is, "Cherish this time you have with them when they are small.. it goes by so fast!". Of course as a parent you understand this, but you really DON'T. Not until you one day look at your little one and wonder where the hell he went. Somewhere between the bruised knees, and countless rides on the Merry-Go-Rounds, and the nauseating morning cartoons, my little boy has grown up. Too fast for MY liking, but i couldn't stop it, no matter how hard i tried.
I've spoken countless times here about Mini-Me. He has the kindest, gentlest heart of any kid i have ever known. Sometimes i wonder if his big open heart will bring him unneeded heartache as he gets older and has to deal with other people in this world who will undoubtedly be not as loving. I worry that i should have toughened him up more.
But in the end, i don't think i would have done anything any differently. My little man is my best friend, and I am so proud and humbled to see the person he is becoming.
I just wish that it would all happen a tad more slowly.
You settle in to your favorite resturant, ready to enjoy a nice meal. The waitress comes over and plops down a nice basket of bread, and then she brings over a refreshing, ice cold pitcher of water.......
.... with slices of LEMON floating in it!
I fucking hate hate HATE lemon in my water! It gives the water a tart taste, which sucks.
The whole SELLING point of water, is that it is refreshing WITH NO TASTE! If you are going to add flavor to my water, i might as well just have a Budweiser, which is about as close to flavored water as you can get anyway, next to a lemon.
And if you absolutely HAVE TO put something in my water......... a LEMON? Really? What happened? Did you run out of gizzards or old socks?
Oh, maybe it's just me. After all, on a hot summer day, you cant turn around without seeing some young tyke sitting on the curb, sucking down on a big, moist lemon.
Wait, you DON'T see people chomping down on lemons?
Oh right, of COURSE you dont!
Wanna know why? It's because lemons taste like shit. The only thing lemons are good for are for squeezing onto my shrimp cocktail, or for inserting into my rectum.
Hey, i have to think of SOMETHING to do with myself on rainy days....
Last month, Bill Hader ended his 8 year run on Saturday Night Live.
I've mentioned my inexplainable love affair with SNL many times. I don't understand why, but i NEVER miss an episode.
For the past few years, Bill Hader has been a big part of that. He is one talented mother-fucker, and i am going to miss seeing him every week.
I think what i liked best about Hader was when he would break down and laugh himself silly during a sketch. It kinda reminded me of the old Tim Conway/Harvey Korman bits on the Carol Burnett Show.
Anyway, here is an unaired clip of Hader and Fred Armisson (who also left SNL this year) during a dress rehearsal for a skit that ended up never being aired, maybe because these two guys just couldnt get thru it without completely losing their shit.
The skit isnt too funny, and WAAAY too long, but dammit i chuckle everytime i see these guys lose it.
Mini-Me gets a lot of things from me..... my stunning brown eyes, my rugged jawline, my devilishly goodlooks, my humility.....
Also, he seems to have inherited my sense of humor.
We were taking our weekly trip to Carvel last night, and because i have the maturity of a house fly, i spent most of the car ride teasing him about this girl in his class who CLEARLY has the hots for him, but to even MENTION this to him puts my son in a rage. He does NOT want to talk about girls.
So, as i said, i spent the better part of the car ride making up stupid little knock-knock jokes, with REALLLY lame punch lines meant to tease him.
So, after 5 minutes of this, Mini-Me looked at me, and the following conversation took place:
Mini-Me: Daddy, can i say a bad word?
Stud: What? Why?
Mini-Me: I want to tell YOU a joke now, but i need to say a bad word.
Stud: You NEED to say a bad word to tell me the joke?
Mini-Me: Yes daddy.
Stud: Hmmmmm. Ok, as long as we dont make a habbit of this.
Mini-Me: I wont, daddy. I never say bad words.
Stud: Ok, lay it on me.
Mini-Me: Ok............ "What did one Daddy say to the other Daddy?"
Stud: I dunno... what?
Mini-Me: "You're a dick!"
I honestly don't know what was funnier.... the fact that i was completely speechless, or the fact that he found this joke so BRILLIANTLY raunchy that he simply could not contain himself. He laughed himself silly, with tears in his eyes, for the remainder of our trip. I have never seen him so beside himself with laughter.
Which, in the end, is what it's all about, isnt it?
Now I just need to teach him to fuck with OTHER people, and not with me.
Oooh, doesn't Pat Boone look all masculine and sexy on that album cover?
He looks like a cross between Patrick Duffy and a gay biker.
Not that I know too many gay bikers...... just the ones i see while watching gay porn. Not that i see alot of gay porn...... just the hundreds of DVDs that i have bought online that ship to my house in discrete brown wrappers.
I seem to have gotten onto a tangent of pure silliness. Gay porn was NOT what i intended to talk about today.
No, I wanted to talk about the excessive amount of SPAM i have been getting in the comments lately.
Now, I've talked before about how I hate hate HATE sites that use that damn word verification thingy where i have to type "JHFUILG" or some other such crap before i can comment on a site. It drives me absolutely batty. Mostly because I usually cant tell if one of the letters is an L or an I or something like that, and i end up having to try it a boatload of times before i can leave my comment. It drives me crazy. In fact, back in the day, i even ranted about it.
So, i have been quite proud of the fact that i have been able to spare you all the horrors of having to type those nonsense words here and have been able to keep it that way for over half a decade.
But i may finally have to bite the bullet and enable word verification. Check out the comments on the last few weeks of posts to see why. For some reason, i have been getting blasted with spam every few hours, and its really pissing me off.
This happened a few years back, and then after a month or so it stopped, so I'm gonna wait a bit before i pull the trigger on word verification, but if it doesn't stop (or at least slow down), i am going to have to ask you all to enter in "KERFLUDDLE" or some such shit every time you want to tell me how much you want to bone me.
Last week we passed a sad yet inevitable milestone in the Slyde household...
I was forced to finally tell Mini-Me the truth about Santa.
It broke my heart.
He's been asking questions for a while now, and i'm pretty sure that deep down, he knew the truth already, but i certainly broke my ass every year helping to keep up with the illusion.
He was still All-In on where the Easter bunny and Tooth Fairy were concerned, too.
But last week, Friz had to go and finally ruin it.
Apparently, while i was out, Mini-Me started hammering Friz with questions again, asking if Santa is real, and i guess her resolve is not as strong as mine (or her ability to spew out bullshit), because she finally caved.
Actually, she did WORSE than cave....
She told him to ask ME about it.
So, completely obvlivious, i walked into the house and was instantly greeted with Mini-Me yelling, "Mommy said that you would tell me that Santa isnt real!"
Anyway, it honestly was very difficult for me to tell him the truth. Even though i exude pure testosterone out of every fiber of my being, i found myself getting all veklempt while i told him the truth.
In all honesty, i had intended to tell him soon anyway. He'll be entering Junior High in the Fall, and the LAST thing i wanted for him was to walk into that school filled with older kids, talking about a fat man climbing down his chimney. I dont think ANY kid could surive the inevitable amount of bullying that would ensue.
In the end, I came clean about where the presents come from, and where the jelly beans and colored eggs come from, and where his teeth go when he puts them under his pillow.
To his credit, he took it well.
Now, the only one left who is all fucked up over it is ME.
Everyone knows that I'm a big, macho guy, but every once in a while, a story comes along that makes me puddle up on the floor like jello.
You've all seen this kid on the news for the past few days, havent you?
In case you haven't, this is Zach Sobiech. He's a 17 year old kid who has been battling a rare form of bone cancer since he was 14. Last Fall, the doctor's told him he was terminal, and only had months left.
This brave, talented young kid decided to use his talent for music and write a song to say goodbye to his friends and family. He uploaded the song "Clouds" to Youtube, where it went viral.
Now, with literally weeks left, a boatload of stars got together and created a tribute video where they lip-sync Zach's song and thank him for the tune.
It's impossible to not get all veklempt listening to this, but aside from the emotional aspect of the story, the song is just GOOD. It's catchy, and i found myself humming it all weekend. I ended up buying the song since the proceeds are going to his family and the cancer research fund that they set up.
I feel for this poor kid, and i can't stop thinking of what an awesome dude he is to have completed such an undertaking while dealing with the shitty hand he has been dealt. Fuck, i rock myself back and forth on the floor in the fetal position if my DVR cuts off the last minute of Game of Thrones.
Anyway, Here's to you, Zach. May your road ahead give you the peace and serenity that you deserve.
The other day, I spent the day with my niece in Manhattan, and i think I've finally managed to learn something about myself......
I don't think I'm much of a city person anymore.
In my youth, i certainly THOUGHT i was. Growing up on the Queens border, i spent many days and nights in big bad New York City, along with everyone else i knew. It was kind of a badge of honor amongst us to see who was the most knowledgeable of all the city hot spots and goings-on.
Then, when i turned 18, my family moved farther out on Long Island. At the time, i thought my life was over. Seeing all the trees, parks, big front yards, and general greenery made me feel like i should be standing on my front lawn holding a pitchfork next to some old lady. I HATED it, and spent more time travelling back to my old stomping grounds than i did in my new home.
But, as time went on, i gradually started to appreciate the pleasures that a more relaxed way of living had to offer. For one thing, people weren't stabbing each other. I found that to be quite a nice change. Moreover, people seemed generally HAPPIER. Maybe it was the fact that we all weren't living on top of each other in small, boxed homes, but people generally seemed happier to be alive. Plus, as i said, there was that whole concept of less people wanting to stab me.
Anyway, I look back on those times now with astonishment that there was a time in my life where i actually PREFERRED to live that way over the more suburban, pool-in-the-backyard, weekend-orgy-in-the-Hamptons life that i have now. I KNOW that it all made sense to me back then, but for the life of me i can no longer remember WHY.
I guess it all kind of came to a head for me this weekend as i traversed the streets of Manhattan with my niece, who has now become a die hard cosmopolitan. For every time she told me, "This block has any kind of food you can want.. from a Haitian bakery over there, to great Thai place next door, to a superb Greek place across the street!", all I thought about was, "I'd rather just be home sitting in my backyard where i WOULDN'T be seeing this homeless guy pee on my leg."
I dunno. Maybe I've just become lazy in my old age, but at this point in my life I'll take a nice quiet backyard with a hammock to a 24-hour rave hall anyway.
Yes, I'm at work right now, and i should actually be, you know, doing WORK, but darn it all to heck (sorry for my language) i felt like making myself chuckle with my favorite past time..... watching news bloopers.
Here's a great one. I'm not sure if its this guy's epic fail, or his super effeminate war-cry are what makes me guffaw every damn time i see this, but guffaw i do.
Let's talk about something that really irritates me....
And no, I'm not talking about sandpaper on my genitals.... The secret THERE is if you rub the paper in a counterclockwise motion, there is hardly ANY residual scarring.
No, I'm talking about people in your life who don't know the first thing about how to be funny, but THINK that they are fucking HYSTERICAL!
Now, maybe i should be a bit more understanding. After all, the gods have granted me the gift of being pee-your-pants funny. All my life, its been my blessing, and my curse. Typically, God only grants the gift of humor to ugly people, to help them compensate for the fact that people are repulsed by them when they walk into a room, but for some reason, God double-dipped with me and not only made me blazingly quick-witted, but devastatingly handsome. It's really not fair to the rest of you. I'm not complaining, mind you, but i cant help thinking that because i was granted a double dose of perfection, some poor slob who was after me in line might have gotten neither humor NOR looks. What a poor, miserable life that person must be living....
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah, being funny.
The point being, it drives me absolutely batty when someone who doesn't have ONE funnybone in his body tries to be funny. Badly.
I have an aquaintance who suffers from this affliction and i just want to hit him over the head with a lead pipe every time he spews out one of his lame attempts at levity.
Me: I have to blow off the meeting today.
Him: You do?
Me: Yeah. Yes, I do.
Him: I bet you enjoy that, don't you?
Him: I said i bet you like blowing off the meeting.....
You guys know how much i adore a good newscaster blooper, right?
Well, North Dakota news anchor A.J. Clemente just made MY Monday a whole lot better!
Clemente, who was just hired by NBC affiliate KFYR-TV in North Dakota was JUST about to be introduced by his new co-anchor on his FIRST day of his job, when he apparently didnt realize that his mike was on, and decided to blurt out what was on his mind...
Unfortunately, for young A.J., what was on his mind was the need to yell "Fucking Shit!".
Thats funny enough, but then his poor co-host, Van, tries to bully through it, and just stumbles all over herself.
Then, not to be outdone, my new best friend A.J. decides to try to get one last sentence out before his career got cut blisteringly short.
He probably should have stopped at "Fucking Shit".
Anyway, as would be expected in our ultra P.C., offend-no-one world, KFYR reported today that Clemente "has been suspended until we resolve the situation. All we can do at this point is ask for your forgiveness."
I've lived in New York my whole life. There's a natural rivalry between NY and Boston that's been around a long time, so legally, I am obligated to dislike all things 'Boston'. I think it's in the fine print of my contract.
I CAN say that I DID drive through Boston once. I was never so damn scared in my life. New Yorkers are dangerous drivers, but you Bostonians are CRAZY!
But damn it all if we cant put all that play-rivalry aside for a while and let our hearts go out to the city of Boston for what they went through yesterday. Watching that footage of explosions, and dust flying, and city-goers running for their lives, brought back to me the memory of ANOTHER horrible day, more than a decade ago, where a different city wept. A different city suffered. A different city lost lives. And, in time, a different city was reborn.
Watching the news last night brought back 9/11 for me in a way that i really thought i had gotten past, but i guess i was mistaken.
So, all i can tell you, Bostonians, is to hang in there. In time, things will start to make sense again.
And then, we can go back to hating each other......
Ok, The Walking Dead Season 3 finale aired over a week ago, so i think i can now safely talk about it without spoiling anything for anybody.
Was it just me, or did the finale suck balls?
Now, I've got to come clean with some full disclosure here. I am a Walking Dead fan. Actually, I'm MORE than that..... I'm a walking dead FANATIC. YEARS before the TV show aired, I was one of the few people who would trek to their local comic book store every week to buy The Walking Dead comic. Then I'd run home (with my pants off) and thrill to Rick and the gang's latest escapades.
And THAT'S kind of been a big part of my problem with the show so far. From the beginning, they made the decision to change things up from the book, and make this a completely different story, while mostly using the same characters.
It drives me crazy, mostly because the stories have been told so much better in the comics. And when they kill off people on the show while those characters are STILL alive and kicking in the comic, it pisses me off. Especially when they kill off characters without putting them in some of their better story lines from the comic.
Ok, that's my personal gripe as a comic book fanboy, but that is NOT why i hated the finale.
The finale just sucked.
The governor FINALLY decides to bring a can of whup-ass to the prison. He brings his army with him, as they bust down the prison fences. Then we got treated to 20 minutes of watching the Governor and his troops tip toe through the prison., doing nothing, until they run into the prison gang who start to shoot at them. Then we watched 5 minutes of gunfire, where NO ONE GETS SHOT BY ANYONE, followed by the Governor and his group high-tailing it back OUT of the prison as fast as their feets can carry them.
Then, the Governor, in a childish hissy fit, decides to gun down HIS ENTIRE ARMY. Then he runs away.
What the Hell?
In the comics, the final fight between Rick and the Governor was a fucking BLOODBATH. Around half the characters in the book got killed off, INCLUDING the governor, Lori.... even their child, for gosh sakes!
Did we need to see that played out on the show? Not necessarily.......