Pit bulls are dog Nazis, not a Facebook mascot.

I've probably sat on the inspiration for too long. As I let the idea roll around in my head for the past couple hours, the wackiness has smoothed out. It had some real wild tangents and covered racial tensions and the morons who think it is okay to own pit bulls.

Okay, let me comment on the pits. It is not the owners or the abusers of these killers. Yes, killers. Fuzzy murder machines is what their genealogy designed them to be. Dare I say they are the Lady Gagas of the canine family because they were born that way. Plus, it is not much of a stretch to see Gaga exploit midgets like pit bulls have.

Thus, I guess dobermans are the barking Madonna's. The latest Super Bowl experiment was hot and dangerous 20 years ago while you have to have a wide acceptance of what beauty to consider whom the queers have overly embraced as sexy.

On the gay comment, hate to sound too conservative, but there comes a point where you can love rainbows and unicorns too much. It is like going to a football game and having to sit by the fat fuck in full body make up. You just hope the guy doesn't start rubbing all over you to hog the camera for three seconds of Sunday night airtime. You can be die hard without being celebrating being obese or obnoxious. Why you would want to be associated with a program that allows Faith Hill to ruin Joan Jett?

Football fans (which reminds me of a great McDonald's customer service story), homosexuals, pop stars and pit bull fans, I've seen to have covered a lot so far without making reaching my conclusion. For not blogging in 50 days, it at least it feels like I still got it. When I start thinking like that, it is probably time to wrap it up.

I doubt I will ever be drawn to owning a pit bull as a pet. Not because of their innate violent nature, but because I like my pets to be small and cuddly. Not purse portable (fuck Paris and Tink), just small enough and safe enough that they can prepare any infant for an Olympic level Roman-Greco wrestling future. My folks will agree with that logic. Pit bulls would probably encourage a pro wrestling career if the babe survives.

It's like a Direct TV ad, don't let your baby become a pro wrestler, or wear a dog collar.

Kidding aside, I cannot oppose people owning and loving pit bulls, I can oppose them posting about the misconceptions on Facebook. The heat on dobermans eventually died down because we gradually heard less and less about their maulings. That should happen for pit bulls except people keep posting on social networks that about the oppression they face as owners of crazy dogs.

It is like any beautiful weapon. It takes time to realize that it is beautiful. Take the samurai sword for example. Only their operators could initially respect their beauty. Peasants feared them until samurai's stopped slicing them down with the blades. The Meiji revolution helped limit the slayings, but eventually they saw the elegance of the tool.

Shoving the friendliness of a bread killer down my throat is only going alienate me from your cause. I think Chris Benoit did more good than bad, but I can't sell many on how he was more than just a killer.

Pit bull pride? Is that why we must hear about it? It is not like being gay, straight, white, black, brown, etc. To paraphrase Anne Frank, people are generally good, and aren't associated with their potential to rip your throat out.

And in the World War II vein, aren't pit bull fans dog nazis. With all the furballs who get put down at PAWS each month because they aren't a pure ideal, isn't breeding certain races and abandoning others evil?

I'm getting judgmental here and I must apologize. If you want to own a pit bull, that is fine. I'm just telling you better own a house, because I cannot blame a land lord for saying no to that four-legged resident. There will be a time when everyone will be cool with owning pits, but if you keep demanding us to accept them, you are not helping your cause.

It is a hear no, see no, speak no evil situation. It's sad because there may be no evil, but there are excessive, repetitive, and pointless Facebook updates that waste my time when all I want to know is if there will be a place or an event where I won't be drinking alone. That may just be evil enough for me.

Have a pro pit kegger, and I may give a shit.

We gotta get "Main Event of the Dead" rolling. Need some sense that my efforts can be rewarded.

The agony and the monotony is killing me.

I wish I could have made that a direct reference to Harvey Danger, but cannot say there is much irony to discuss. Don't have the time to make it.

Since the Ryder Customer Response Center moved to Nashville, I'm overworked and under-appreciated. Because the new fast food account base pay rate is $0.44 higher than the $8.79 it took 18 months for me to earn with RCRC, the two years I spent with the company is null. This leaves me taking a pay cut of $120 (second shift differential and attendance bonuses are gone.

With this position, if you have the earned time (paid time off), there is no reason to not take a day off every week. Only problem is, if you don't want to work 40 hours a week, you will have to request four days off because with weekly schedule changes, the scheduling blokes aren't afraid to schedule for four 10 hour days or weekends.

To make matters worse, this fast food restaurant only cares about protecting the brands image and care less about the customers. And everyone with status on the account is pretty arrogant about the influence the clown ^_- has on the markets. Makes me wish I was working on the lousy accounts they were on so I could appreciate cold french fry and nuggets complaints.

It also sucks working first shift. You cannot drink on the weeknights if you got to wake up at six in the morning. When all your friends are drunks, your left only with a cat and a blu-ray player that for some reason won't play "The Wrestler."

Guess they are Sean Penn fans at Toshiba. I thought "Milk" was an excellent film to, but to take away Mickey Rourke's Oscar to recognize the liberal agenda of Hollywood and a dead Australian hack. Come on. Rourke's Chinese exploitation with "Year of the Dragon" was better than Madonna's career sabotage of Penn's career called "Shanghai Surprise." Let's not compare their works with Robert De Niro.

Just like Rourke, this adrenaline junkie's efforts to accommodate are unappreciative. Things just get worse when I work my ass off. I just feels like I'm following "Sin City" with "Domino." When can I get some box office?

I hate to make resolutions, but "Main Event of the Dead" has to be completed this year. Of course I need some help, and unfortunately, I cannot count on anyone to deliver except me. Aside from my family, I can only think of three people that have gone to the bat for me. One of them is dead, one got me arrested over a coke head, and the other is a wrestling promoter.

Shows you how fuck up my life is. I make the time for everyone, but never had that returned.

Artwork needed for "Main Even of the Dead." 1% need not apply.

So, I'll hold off on posting my blog about how psychotherapy is a load of bull shit, because my indie movie project needs your help.

I had just finished the reinvention of Harshside.com, so now I must move on to MainEventoftheDead.com. So far, I've put $2000 into the my debut feature already. Thus, I can justify paying for a teaser poster for this project.

The website can be created fairly quickly, but it should feature more than text. A lot of productions trying to gain funding on IndieGoGo.com usually feature video of someone trying to sell you on the project, but we know how well I speak pu...pu...publicly. Plus, I'm still old school about web design, and hate turning my site into a TV channel.

It's a computer for Christ sake, and who knows, a potential associate producer may only get to view the Internet at work where firewalls would kill the video or even block the site. And I'm all about not judging people, so I can't discriminate against the miserly still using dial up.

Sorry to use a synonym for wickedly thrifty, but my fellow 99 percenters own iPads and lap tops not because we are told to we must own the best technology to have to obtain the jobs we deserve that the Republicans believe are worth at least $20,000 in student loans we cannot pay.

Do the morons who post anti-Obama images on Facebook (use your own words, not some hateful assholes graphic artist. Hell, I'll pirate you a copy of Fireworks to come up with your own images. If I was in the 1%, I'd buy you a copy of Photoshop), understand that the money that the 1% unreasonably cling to could save this country? All the rich have to do to DESERVE can create new jobs, accept they NEED to be taxed to at least 50%, give a third of their wealth to charity, or CHOOSE TO ONLY BUY A SPORTS CAR OR A VACATION HOME. THEY CANNOT HAVE BOAST.

THE ONE PERCENT WILL NEVER NEED ALL OF THEIR NINETY-NINE PERCENT. THE WEALTH MUST BE SHARED TO SAVE THIS COUNTRY, OR YOU BETTER START LEARNING MANDARIN OR SPANISH.

THE ONE PERCENT ARE DETERMINED TO MAKE ENGLISH A DEAD LANGUAGE.

Sorry about the rant, back to Zombie Wrestling Movie.

If you want to consider providing some awesome art work for the MainEventoftheDead website, let me know. If you need more details about the film, the script is still a work in project, but I am more than willing to write up a complete treatment. If you cannot find inspiration from that, I don't think I'll need your services.

Thanks for taking the time to read this blog, and if you can get away with it, DON'T GO TO WORK ON FRIDAY 11/11/11.

I don't remember drinking requiring so much dedication.

No time to write. No time for exercise. Fuck, I got three weeks of "The Walking Dead" to catch up on.

And I worry about ending up with a first shift job.

The bars, what few are left downtown, aren't much fun on the weekends, unless you got friends to tear it up with (what I hope to come out with from all the late night activity), so waking up in the AM is kind of scary.

Farmington Road, is that where my future intoxicated adventures are to be found? When the only time I left the Dormitory, I was pissy that I could have mopped the floor with, going anywhere besides the Jukebox, that future seems bleak.

With any luck, the MMA plans will come to fruition. I'll catch on to BJJ and Muy Thai quick enough that I can bust my ass to cut weight for fights, and hopefully a old school "Conan: The Barbarian" rewards.

Still, it is just difficult to change your ways without proper motivation. It almost makes me wish that I was 2-Dimensional fat. No small compliments to inspire you to believe that you are good enough, smart enough, and the rest of that ironic bull shit.

Then again, how many of my fat fuck friends end up with their own families without dropping a single pound? Makes me genuinely believe I'm just unattractive.

Dedication, I guess I got to the point with drinking that I don't think about how shitty my life is when I'm drunk.

Perhaps Russell Claude is back. But I do wonder, should I just spend my booze money on dating website.

When they guarantee tits in my face, let me know. I got to be true to myself, hence a return to the Dario Argento filmography.

"Opera" (1987) - "Phenomena" without the mysticism or Americanism. This feature is all about capturing horrific scenes in the most marvelous ways. Lacks the heart of his other features to this point, so only the outstanding cinematography and the use of heavy metal separate from the rest of the Italian slasher genre. It's a fun feature, but with a better script, it could be a classic.

"Two Evil Eyes (The Black Cat)" (1990) - It is as good as a Edgar Allan Poe adaptation that could have been put to celluloid, but the best I've seen is "The Simpsons" take on "The Raven." The twisted imagery and clever visual references to other Poe tales doesn't undo this. To make matters worse, Harvey Keitel's character is not sympathetic enough. Part of the fun of Poe is putting ourselves in the character's shoes. That cannot be done when you despise the lead.

Then again that maybe the cat person talking.

"Trauma" (1993) - This maybe the best story about a head hunting serial killer. It runs a little long and drags at points, but Tom Savini special effects and a heartfelt relationship between an Italian under-aged anorexic (daughter Asia Argento) and a recovering addict graphic designer keeps your interest until a climax that tops his killer chimp ending.

Nothing horrific in the world to talk about, so let's talk about Dario Argento

Actually, there is a lot of horrific stuff going on in this world.

1. Topeka, KS legalizing domestic abuse for 24 hours.
2. Republicans blocking the jobs bill, and morons from Morton just blaming Obama.
3. WWE encouraging fans to cheer on the risk taking that led to a double murder suicide (let's not forget them "canning" the only commentator who showed respect to the women's division).

I guess being overworked at my job prevents me from getting to lunch on time, so I cannot keep up with the evening news. Too busy being pissed about anything beside the crappy work conditions.

The Man or Astroman concert may have left me in a sunnier disposition, and fortunately, Netflix expecting to be paid during the second pay period has made being broke a little easier to tolerate.

Of course, with my cynical nature has also allowed me to realize the downside to $15.99 service. I've almost caught up with the entire Dario Argento library that came after his "Animal Trilogy." Maybe I'm a poor example of taste not seeing those films, but the Italian Horror Genre is so much more fun when the disturbing visuals straddle the border of being tasteless. It is now back to catching up on American directors since the Takashi Miike works that I haven't seen may be a bit much even for me.

Does anyone have any suggestions on directors that I haven't had enough exposure to? Aside from "The Following" and "The Illusionist," I'm caught up on Christopher Noland, and I acknowledge I got the DiCaprio/Scorsese collaborations to catch on. What else am I missing?

In the mean time, to clear my head so that I may start working on the website for my screenplay "Main Event of the Dead" and restoring access to the original Harshside.com files, I've decided to write a quick run down of Argento's most recent films (sans "Masters of Horror" and the film he stiffed Adrian Brody on). Hopefully, this will expose some of the so called twisted movie fans to find their ideal introduction to the director.

• "Deep Red" (1975) - Any educated modern horror director has been inspired by this picture. It runs a little on the long side, but the death sequences make it worth the slow spots that are still beautifully captured on film.
• "Suspiria (the first of The Three Mother's Trilogy)" (1977) - This is the director's masterpiece. There is not much of a story, but it is supposed to be simplistic (a tribute to the Grimm Bros) which is further enhanced by the dependency on only using shades of green, blue, and red to light the film. Argento's approach to this film could not be captured again until color replacement technology came into existence at the beginning of the millenium. The film is also paced better, and delivers even more creative murders.
• "Inferno" (1980) - Argento's sequel to "Suspiria" is not an attempt to copy its predecessor. It could not be since the tricks to make "Suspiria" had become extinct. The film is heavily influence by the godfather of the Giallo genre Mario Bava, and Argento tries to build from that. Another Marvelously captured film, which is further admirable because the story is absolute chaos. If you thought there was little story in "Suspiria," "Inferno" has makes it less important to justify more violence. This feature is fun, but not the are his prior two films presented us with.
• "Tenebre" (1982) - You half to see this movie from the beginning because this feature may offer the director's finest twist. It is a return the murder mysteries from the world of withcraft. A side from the awesome twist, the film feels like a streamlined version of "Deep Red." This maybe the ideal feature for fans of the realistic psychopath genre.
• "Phenomena" (1985) - This maybe Argento's most accessible film. The cast is lead by Jennifer Connelly and Donald Pleasance which indicates his most obvious attempt to make an "American feature." The story is fast paced and involves a magical twist which seems like essentials to make a profitable western feature in the mid 80's. Fortunately, these elements do not hinder this film and may feature his most satisfying finale. Add a truly metal soundtrack (featuring Iron Maiden and Motorhead), it is irresistible. A definite must see for any horror fan.

It's 1:45 am on payday, so I better leave this filmography to focus on surrendering my funds to the cable company. I should have mailed it in, but who knows, since adding the home phone they may have cut me a break. This leaves me wondering what the next multimedia device that Comcast will come up with to encourage us to add to our bill to temporarily lower my bill. All I care about it is whether or not it arrives in a year so I can capitalize on it.

Hockey Season and The Humanoids that Hate Obama

After watching the home opener of the Peoria Rivermen, I'm glad my budget keeps me away from the rink more that once a weekend. Since Peoria winters are long without a local wrestling promotion, what else am I going to do with myself when until Oscar season except follow the Rivs?

They lack everywhere, so if the Blues do not leave us with something worthwhile beside their mascot's little brother (did Seth MacFarlane claim the Captain was infringing on "American Dad."), it could make for a long cold season. Maybe coaching can make up for it. Hopefully Coach Bednar realizes that if you can't offer defense or offense, you got to goon it up. At least give us a distraction from the non-Canadians in the arena.

It was opening night, so everyone was there. Families, drunks, mullet dawning newlyweds, etc. In other words, Carver Arena was the bowl for a stew of intolerance that makes you wonder how hateful fans would be to each other if any minorities were present.

White America, so hateful that we will look for differences to justify hating each other instead of committing to our actions. Just so you Facebook closet conservatives know, you didn't vote for Obama because you wanted to prove you weren't racist (unless you're an idiot), you voted for him because you wanted change. Too bad you were to cowardly to sacrifice and commit to the cause of change.

OCCUPY ARE THE REAL HEROES IN THIS COUNTRY AT THIS TIME. THAT WILL ONLY CHANGE IF SEAL TEAM 6 GETS TO CLEAR OUT WALL STREET.

Otherwise, the armed forces are not protecting our freedoms, they only support the worst concepts of American imperialism responsible for all except World Wars (and it did fuel WWII) and Desert Storm (if the Iraqis wanted rid of Saddam, they should have done it themselves).

If the Rivs would have only dropped the gloves after the 50 minute mark being down two goals, maybe the "anti" American aggression in this blog wouldn't be present. Not to pigeon hole #4 to become an enforcer, but his last name is Punch.

Another way for me to not be so pissy is if Rivermen owners and the Civic Center could come up with promotions to service the unique demographics that come to their games. The parents who objected to the offensive languages of the drunks who probably stopped in Peoria while they were en route to catch their beloved Stain Tampons (aka the Cardinals) play the Brewers were probably in the right, and the guy who wasn't drunk because he probably lacked friends to get tanked with was an asshole for defending them was in the wrong, but Sundays are for families (the games end before the brats bedtime).

Once the groom with the mullet decided to lay down the law in the family's favor, I thought the drunks and lonely douche should have been ejected because as long as a guy in a blue bear costume is there, Rivs hockey is for the family, at least for that night. Cannot tell the kids to put on ear muffs for 60 minutes because drunkenness implies that freedom of speech must be expressed.

It was opening night, so Peoria's are supposed to united, but it left me thinking about the other 39 home games. They are not going to get 7,000 people into the stands again until the play off chase of the guest appearance of the "Twilight" actor with the worst agent. Might as well cater to the guys and gals who chose not to reproduce or expose their kids to a sport that encourages fisticuffs to settle grievances.

On the topic of fighting, that is my solution for cases when someone is guilty, but there is enough doubt to keep them out of prison. Let the victim's families get five minutes to beat the shit out defendant. As long as you do not leave them dead or in the condition of a San Francisco Giants fan, justice is undeniably served.

Now back to four hockey promotional nights that came to immediate mind. I'd like to make it five, so please send me suggestions.

1. R-Rated Night:

I'd like to say no kids allowed night (NC-17), but because there are supposed to be competent, liberal parents out there (I know, that maybe a myth), cannot keep them all out. This would be the night where drinks are sold beyond the second intermission, all language is appropriate, and instead of a kiss cam, there would be a tits cam.
It's either boob flashing is permitted, or Megan and the Ice Girls have to wonder the arena topless. These attention starved girls are cheerleaders because they do not want to be strippers, so asking them to wear hockey socks without the sweaters would be wrong.

2. Nursing Home Clearance Night / Labor Induction Night.

The concept is more of away for me to be twisted than being a promotional event, but I think it maybe popular in spite of this.
This could save Medicare. If we put fans who are 70 years-old and beyond below the top of the glass, the flying pucks smashing the glass may result in heart attacks when these old folks are surprised by the 90 mph pucks meant for their skulls. I'd actually like to see a night where we have a reason to get rid of those stupid nets.
As for the expecting mothers, I thing the scary pucks may result in a quickening of their natural processes. The insurance moneys do not have to pay for the process, so again, an another event that would be encouraged.

3. 8-Bit Night:

It may be tough to get the American Hockey League to agree to only penalize the losers of the fights to be penalized like in Nintendo Entertainment System classics "Ice Hockey" and "Blades of Steel," but I don't see a reason why "Gradius" during the intermissions on the million dollars score board.

4. Riot Grrrl Night:

What better way to celebrate the strength women posses than to encourage everyone to be womanly? As long as you wear a skirt, half off admssion. It seems like an appropriate promotional night for October, coinciding with breast cancer awareness, and if we are going to recognize the release of an influential album, why not celebrate a positive influential movement helmed by the person who knew Curt Kobain's scent? Now, where do we permit the Grrrls to decorate a venue dedicated to men's sports with feminist and civil rights themed graffiti?

Sports have should try to give everyone a reason to attend them, not soley the die hard nuts. Anything that will make Peoria seem more interesting has to be encouraged. And if the tea party wins out, and I can't wed a Canadian Shimmer Athlete for citizenship, you gotta at least do this to make the prison the United States will become tolerable. No cruel and unusual punishment.

Spent $235 last weekend of booze and wrestling, and I all have to offer is a B-Movie review and Silent Bob references.

I may have to return to just trying to locate the an image for the movie for the film "Hellbinders" since Darthmaul.net is a lousy site, but if this cool visage sold "The Phantom Menace," it should sell my movie review...right.

Looking back on the past month, I'm about two to four blogs short, and I've got a slow start on October. Wouldn't have been the case if the dive I stayed out in Brookefield for Shimmer weekend had wi-fi.

Actually they did, but at an hourly rate placed, I'd feel like a dork asking how to access it. I'd probably got the, it's channel 49 response. My cynicism would have led me to reply with some Bankie quotes from "Chasing Amy." We can see where this rant is going.

The point is it would have allowed me to beat the AAW website to posting the results of their show with a more editorial fashion. Damn broadband, web surfers do not have to read anything anymore when you can just post a Youtube video that loads immediately. It is a culture that makes me wonder if ICC's newspaper still makes it to newsprint.

Will we get to the review? I suppose I better. How interesting can my tails about four days of drinking and being social in an attempt to overcome being cock blocked by a Berwyn chicks daddy issues? It is just a fleeting concept (back to the "Amy" wrap around).

The stories I tell because my life is a soccer game (a more tasking activity than raining down sulfer). There is not for scoring, but when it happens, you go nuts.

Lets get away from the pregame, and to the movie review - Hellbinders: Made for rental gold.
The Billy Drago school of acting presents a celbration of feaux hawks, monks in brown hoodies and MS Comis Sans font. Welcome to "A 1000 Ways to Die: The Bumpers: The Movies."

It is filed under H with the title "Hellbinders."

Max (Ray "Darth Make Up" Parks) is a mercenary who leads his team into a battle with a satanic cult. What was supposed to be a police funded irradication is complicated when his comrades souls are taken over by Onis that have escaped from teh fallen cult members. The only reason Max can escape is that he is immune to demonic cohersion. Will he survive long enough for us to find out?

Fortunately, a ninja (the second black Power Ranger...the lion and the frog) and the 700 year old last Templar show up to lead him on the path to redemption and ketchup covered pancakes (that is not cheap special effect slang).

"Hellbinders" is an awesome midnight movie. Superior than any Syfy original, but maintains the same charm. Digital bullets, no squibs or blanks, and something for every horror make up fan to enjoy. If it did not revel it it cheapness, this could have worked on even more levels.

The script does hinder the story a bit. It does try a little too much to include religious chaos. Good thing it uses comic book frames for every scene transition, so you do not have to give much attention to the plot's attempts to be clever.

There is some sly dialogue and the director(s) try their best to capture the action. If you are making a cheap movie, it's good to know how to use camera tricks. It compensates for hinderances likes only having one light to brighten the scene. The team knows how to make this no budget film presentable and it is B-movie gold.

Ridiculous script, hokey effects, and over-the-top performances; the only thing limiting "Hellbinders" replay value is nudity. This is how B-movies should be made. Limitations are known and accepted; and any wise audience can appreciate this film that has a genuine Darth Maul performance.