To the Multiplex !!!

ONSCREEN:

MPAA rating - This trailer should never be viewed by anyone… anywhere.

VOICEOVER:

From the studio that brought you Love in a Pinto, Strangers in Pantaloons and Don't Touch My Pits! comes a vibrant and intellectually challenging story of redemption, ennui, nausea, poor penmanship, tragedy and slapstick...

FADE IN:

Lightning crashes, thunder rolls...a homeless man, yells "Whooooo"! Helicopter shot, we are racing over New York City.

VOICEOVER:

"In a world where anything can happen because we couldn't find a decent script but still have to get people into the theater".

CUT TO…

A kitten meows

A car explodes.

A man turns to the camera, startled. "Who are you"?

The Millennium Falcon, clearly stolen from the film Star Wars flies by the screen.

VOICEOVER:

"In a world where men and women get along all the time and dinosaurs are hired as baristas at Starbucks"…

CUT TO:

A chicken plays tic tac toe

Fighter planes race by, people look up and point

A kitten farts.

Same man…"no seriously, man, who the fuck are you"?

VOICEOVER:

In the future, when gas is seven bucks a gallon and milk costs even more…one man will rise up and show the world what a true hero is".

CUT TO:

Farmer milking cow….slowly.

Same man again "Gimme that camera, you bastard"!

Godzilla puppet on hand driving a car, people honking behind him.

Old woman folding socks.

VOICEOVER:

In a season, thats not winter, fall or spring…a sock puppet and his owner will take on the mantle of a dark knight (can we say that?, I don't want to get sued.) …um A Dark Evening type hero…

CUT TO:

Godzilla puppet (dyed black, mask askew on face..."Im Batman!"

Car explodes

Boat crashes

Hindenberg falls out of the sky.

VOICEOVER:

In a time when watches only go to 11:00pm, where calendars only have 8 months of pages…

CUT TO:

A child lets go of his balloon and it floats away. He cries.

The father laughs and points…" HA, HA, weenie"!

Boy falls to his knees… "NOOOOOOOOOOO"!

VOICEOVER:

This summer…or spring. Prepare yourself for a tour de force (whatever that means). A film that combines the special effects of Logan's Run, the romanticism of Schindler's List, the lust and bawdiness of The Muppets Take Manhattan and the random explosions of Michael Bay in a mishmash of bad writing, random neuron firings and if you're lucky some naked titties.

Remember to bring your whole family..and at least 200 bucks, popcorn aint getting any cheaper.

ON SCREEN:

Coming Soon.

Stop stealing my ideas!

I think they started the SkyMall magazine to prey on people who have to be on long flights. I think what happens is the longer you are in the air breathing that horrible recycled air composed of the concentrated burps, farts and the random virus or two, you start to think the things in the catalog are actually legitimate purchases.

Im here to help you…it's what I do.

First up is the Mustache Mirror. I had to really think about this one. Maybe the problem is I already have a mustache so I don't really look to my mirror to provide me with the illusion of a mustache when I can so readily grow a real one.

What weird is the choices of style seem so random. From left to right you have the "porn stache" in case you want to see what it would be like to be a refugee from a 1970's adult film. Next you have the barber shop quartet style favored by participants in that uncomfortable music style or perhaps you are a evil guy looking to tie a girl to train tracks. Last is the one made famous by the rich guy in the monopoly game, something that never goes out of style if you ask me.

I guess my biggest problem is that of where you hang the mirror. If it's high enough for you, short people see the mustaches on the tops of their heads like some sort of strange toupee and if you have friends that are pro basketball players, they see the mustaches on their crotch like strange little stylish merkins.

OrbitWheels: Im not sure what use these are. I guess if you generally travel by skateboard (and most likely are 13 years old) then this may appeal to you. I can't see why this would be fun, generally humans walk forward so forcing yourself to slide sideways on twin circles seems counter intuitive to behaving like a normal person.

Of course this photo illustrates that he may not in fact be a normal person, in fact if I had to guess he appears to be the kind of person who has to wear a helmet all the time…if you catch my drift.

In fact in the picture he seems to be saying: "gosh I hope some ten year old boys don't come by and push me over and then violate my helpless prone form". Although if that happened, I think that would make me smile.

Litter Kwitter: This just seems wrong on so many levels, the least of which is the picture of a cat that seems to be saying "come a little closer, so I can show you how I really feel about this". It's a series of concentric plastic circles that teach the cat to crap into your toilet. As she gets better at balancing herself, you remove the smaller circles until finally she uses the seat the way most people do.

I say most people because I lived in South Carolina for a few years…and I'll say no more.

The reason this is stupid is apparent to any person who owns a cat and that is, you can't train them to do anything. They do what they want when they want to whom they want and if they want to crap in your shoes or on your windowsill or in your favorite pillowcase…then by God that's what you're going to have to deal with.

And I don't know about you but I drink a lot and the last thing I want to do in a drunken stupor is shit all over some plastic rings when I come home...cause cats are vindictive fuckers…it goes like this: she goes to use the toilet, finds my alcohol fueled dump all over her potty and then to teach me a lesson, goes and takes a dump in the toaster.

And then nobody wins.

Tex, The Armadillo Beverage Holder: Have you ever been sitting in front of the TV watching American Idol or something equally retarded and thought, "I wish I had someplace completely stupid to put my beer can". Then this is the product for you.

Monet Rain Boots: I've cropped it out of the picture but above the image it said…"Everybody Loves Them". Thats not true…it simply can't be. Everyone doesn't agree on the same thing…well except that breasts are fantastic fun or that Paris Hilton should be squeezed to death in a filthy trash compactor. But these boots…no way.

I don't know why someone would even create these unless they were looking for a way to make other people walk into incoming traffic because they aren't paying attention.

iRestore Hair Laser: You know when I was growing up, I watched Lost in Space a lot and I always wanted to have the really cool laser than Colonel Don West used. Having said that, at no time did I ever think I wanted to shoot someone's hair with it…this just takes all the fun out of owning a personal weapon of mass destruction.

Ok, now that I got that out of the way. This actually appears to be a device that promotes hair growth but I don't understand, I would think using an intense beam of energy on your head would burn away what little hair you had but judging by the photos Im wrong.

As you can tell from these very scientific pictures, the top band moves back and forth shooting lasers at your scalp over and over until you are either bald or in possession of a hairline that has never existed on earth before.

Anyway…my guess is this device grows hair about as well as watching Lost In Space reruns does.

Air Stupid...fly us!

So last week I had to fly on business for my new job. I had not been on a plane since 2006 and now I remember why.

I flew Continental on a 737 which is allegedly designed to seat around 180 people comfortably. Needless to say there were 824 passengers booked on the flight and God bless em, we managed to get every single one of them on board.

At least that's how it felt to me.

There's a great deal of controversy lately with people who are large being forced to buy two seats but as near as I can tell just about everyone needs to buy two seats on these flights.

The seats appear to be for someone who is 7 feet tall and weighs 79 pounds. Everyone else is crammed into a space clearly designed for a person who has no bones.

Anyway, logic dictates that you should board the flight from the rear of the plane so that you can get everyone to their seats in the least amount of time while also providing the flight crew with an idea of how much storage space is being used up.

Needless to say…this is not how it works. In order to extort more money from the cattle, Continental has come up with a variety of programs all designed to make you feel special when in fact you are no more important to the airline than a bag full of dirty socks.

So you have Continental OnePass and then FirstBoarders and then Ace Numero Uno Seating and then…the rest of the Great Unwashed…of which I am generally a part.

Once you load this random mishmash of program flyers, plus people with babies plus the woman who is using a walker and clutching her chest constantly so Im sure she is not going to survive this flight, you then get to board.

Of course by that point, the other two people who are in your row are already seated and watching a movie so when you show up, they're pissed that they have to stand up and move.

But fuck them! That window seat is mine, motherfuckers…move!

Anyway, they get up…I try to slide into the seat but fail miserably, getting tangled in the seat belts and generally trying to inch worm myself towards the right seat. After a few minutes of this disgusting spectacle it become apparent that shooting me would be a mercy to both myself and the spectators…

…who by the way don't offer to help at anytime.

So now Im in the freakin seat, I have to cram my bag under the seat in front of me which is hard enough without me sitting there, After a few minutes and few hail mary's I get everything situated only to realize that my damn iPad is in that bag and lord knows I aint gonna be able to make a 5 hour flight engaging in conversation with the idiot next to me.

The flight attendants walk through and inform us that we absolutely must turn off our electronic devices. Apparently this plane, this technological marvel with 144,809 parts sheathed in steel and aluminum containing a navigation system so powerful it knows to the square inch where we are in the air at all times can be brought straight down into the earth by a 9 year old playing his Nintendo DS.

So me and the rest of the cattle shut off our phones, power down our computers, deactivate our pacemakers etc.

The pilot comes on the intercom, he is supposed to sound strong and capable… a man we are trusting our lives to while we go screaming at 600 mph through the freakin stratosphere.

Instead he sounds like Don Knotts.

I am not comfortable.

He says: "Well folks…looks like we're gonna be on the tarmac in just a few minutes now. Beautiful night here in Orange County…it'd be a darn shame if you guys didn't make it back here again".

Now Im thinking does he want us to revisit or is he so bad a pilot that even he thinks we aint gonna make it back to NY?

The flight attendants who apparently are so overtaxed with handing out 7 dollar cokes and answering such brain stumpers as "Can I have a blanket", have given up explaining how the plane's safety measures work and are now reduced to pushing a button on a dvd player.

The DVD starts….a cheerful man (who I might add recorded this DVD while safely on firm ground) starts to tell us about how amazing this plane is, how new, how great their safety record is and how nothing ever goes wrong…then he starts in on all the ways that this flight can go wrong and what to do about it.

Much has been written about what to do in a water landing. I can assure you that not a single one of them will work. I am supremely confident that if you are a passenger on a plane spiraling into the ocean at over 500 miles an hour, you need not worry if your seat will work as a flotation device simply because you are about to be rendered into a squishy blob of pink paste that will fit into a single mayonnaise jar. With room to spare.

Anyhoo…we take off. So here we go…five freakin hours on this flight.

Now, Im glad we live in a country where anyone can buy a ticket but it would be better if some of these basketball-following, backwards cap-wearing, semi-shaven fuckwads would just do us all a favor and crash into a ravine on the way to the airport.

So…I get the iPad on and start to choose a movie and fuckwad decides he wants to ask about my new-fangled gizmo. He says and I quote: "zat one of them wachcallit…e-readers"?

I say "No, fuckwad…this is an iPad, an infinitely more powerful, useful and elegant device that an e-reader can't ma…can't you just watch your basketball game and leave me alone"?

Actually what I said was "No, it's an iPad, see, you can use it for more than reading books, you can…".

He says:"Does that thing get porn on it? Can you watch two ladies doin it…cause that would be sumthin".

I return; "Yes…that would be sumthin…but you can pretty much get porn on any portable device, wouldn't you say".

Then he launches into some long-winded half-witted review of a porno he just watched called "Squirt GangBang 4". A highly uncomfortable monologue wherein he utters the phrase "they can squirt pretty far, ya gotta watch your eyes".

I have never wished so hard that the wing of a plane would shear off in mid flight.

A simple goodbye would have sufficed...

So this is goodbye...

Well it seems that every time someone writes one of these, they drone on and on about how clever and creative everyone at Rockwell is and how they learned so much and blah blah blah…

So hold on to your panties…here we go:

From Monica, I learned just how high my blood pressure can be pushed before a brain aneurysm occurs.

From Sarah, I learned how to love again.

From Matt, I learned how to love again…a different way.

From Kendall I learned that there is no food you cannot put hot sauce on, including chocolate pudding.

From Ray I learned that it’s possible to suppress project-related-anger to an extent never before seen.

From Kate I learned that no matter how amazing your design is, someone above you will arbitrarily change it to a different color so they can justify their enormous salary.

From David Ostow, I learned how to be funny (this according to Monica, who insisted that he is so much funnier than me but I cant recall a single instance where David showed off his hairy belly to anyone like I did).

From Michele I learned how to use an upturned eyebrow and slight smirk to convey the words “fuck off” better than actually just saying them.

And so I will take all of this…I don’t know…let’s called it “mental debris” and tell it all to my therapist so he can justify his insane hourly rate.

And now I’d like to be sentimental if I could, please bear with me...

If it’s one thing I will take away from my experience at Rockwellgroup...it’s the fact that at no time were all the toilets in working order and that has meant more to me than anything else.

D.

aka Big D, Marchy, Mackinsoda, PimpJuice, Fatty Boom Batty, Dmarch and so on.

It's just a matter of syntax, no?

Ava takes all her clothes off for no reason we can tell.

She then runs around the house yelling: "IM SO NAKED!…I'M NAKED OVER HERE…I'M NAKED OVER THERE…I'M NAKED IN THE HALLWAY…I'M NAKED IN THE CLOSET…I'M NAKED IN THE LIBRARY"!

It sounds like a deranged version of "Green Eggs and Ham".

She then walks over, turns and shows her butt to us and shouts:

"CHECK OUT MY HINEASS!"

Me: "Your What"!?

Renee: (understanding)…"Ava, it's two different words…hiney…or anus, there is no Hineass".

Ava: "There isn't"?

Renee: "No".

Ava: (thinks it over) "LOOK AT MY BUM"!

Why? how do others see me?

Sarah: "I'm at the jobsite this morning...Should be back around 11".

David: "I'll miss you, of course".

Sarah: "Awww! I expect a hug upon my return"!

David: "OK…but you shouldn't squeeze my ass if anyone is looking".

Sarah: "Ok - I'll try to be discreet about it this time".

David: "I appreciate it...I do have an image to maintain".

Sarah: "And what image would that be"?

David: "Im not entirely sure...sort of Han Solo crossed with Kermit the Frog

with a dash of Spongebob Squarepants".

What exactly is the speed limit here?

Dear Problem Guy...

So I'm on my way to the doctor the other morning, when as I approach a red light, I see that the car in front of me is a Cadillac from 1981. By that I mean that this vehicle appears so large that the front-end is not even in the same time zone as me.

Of course behind the wheel is an old man in a hat. I know its a cliche but there he was. I couldnt see him of course, just his knuckles on the steering wheel. They were ghost white from gripping the wheel so tight.

At this point I'm thinking I should just turn around and go home. Because there is no way this is going to end in my favor.

Stupidly I decide to make the best of it. Light turns green and we dont move. people behind me honk. He turns on his right signal. Doesnt move, then the left signal, doesnt move. Then suddenly he floors it. Of course he's driving an american-made behemoth of a car so for the first 10 seconds nothing happens. Then the engine kicks in and it sounds like the end of the world.

The car lurches backwards and slams into me. Then I see the hands flailing in the front seat. He grips the wheel again and floors it a second time. This time he shoots forward at a speed of no less than 8 miles an hour.

Because the car is so fuckin huge and slow. The light changes back to red just as he finally get across the intersection. The front of my car looks like it was used to transport frightened pigs across a mine field.

I feel myself getting too warm, then faint and then way back in the reptile part of my brain, I hear a snap...

I run the light and chase him down, driving into oncoming traffic just so I can get on his left side and crash him off the road into a nearby gas station.

He smashes into a pump and the explosion is so big, you could probably see it from the moon. The little gnome is french fries now and I couldn't be happier.

So...should I have gotten his insurance information?

Advice: Nope, sounds like you handled it in a mature and if I don't say so myself, very satisfying manner.

One more time...

Him: Hello, may I speak to Mr. Marchisotto?

Me: Maybe…it depends.

Him: On what?

Me: On whether you honestly have something to sell me that doesn’t involve a subscription to a some sort of demented niche magazine that no one wants to buy?

Him: "Well, we here at Salamander Fondler Aficionado don’t really see ourselves as a niche maga-"

Me: *Click*

Are you really sure this happened?

Dear Problem Guy,

With my therapists help, I recently uncovered some memories of a long lost trauma from when I was a four year old.

One night while my parents were hosting a party with friends, I was put to bed early against my will. So after the party got started, I snuck out of my room, took off my pajamas and jammed a giant wad of toilet paper in-between my butt cheeks.

Then I ran out into the living room and hopped around like a bunny rabbit.

I was captured, and not a moment too soon by my father who put me back to bed and locked me in for the night. Now then, since I was able to grab a handful of pretzels but none of the onion dip, can I sue my parents for millions of dollars due to my emotional distress?

Advice: Sounds like you should sue your therapist.

OK... let's try this again...

Tuesday...Phone Rings...

Her: Good morning…Mr…Mr…March..is..obba. How are you this morning?

Me: Well, first and foremost, its night…9:44pm to be exact, where the fuck are you calling from that the sun is out?

Her: (starting again) Oh, I apologize…sir Good evening…Mr…um..Mr. Marchi-

Me: Please, just tell me what you want and stop butchering my name”.

Her: (starting again) Ok…Hello…Good Night Mr. Mar-

Me: “Good night indeed”. *Click*

Wednesday – Take Two

Her: Good morning, Mr. Marchosataa, how are you this evening”?

Me: “Do you even listen to what you’re saying”?

Her: I would like to speak to you about your Chase Visa Credit Card.

Me: Is there a problem with my account?

Her: We have many new products available to hel-

Me: Is there something wrong with my card”?

Her: And we think what we offe-

Me: Listen. ANSWER MY QUESTION! Is there something wrong with my card”?

Her: Only if you don’t accept this great offer. 28% interest rate for 2,163 years.

Me: Ummmm......

Her: I know, right?

Me: My current interest rate is 9%.

Her: Oh, I see…well Mr. Mancheetos, I think th-

Me: *Click*

Nine One What?

Recently I was elected to become the Emergency Action Plan Warden for my company. I say elected in the same way I mean drafted.

Several of us were given a simple quiz:

1: In the event of a disaster, what would you do?

a. Calmly and cooly, gather the employees and lead them to safety.

b. Send an email to the staff announcing the disaster, grab my iPad and leave.

c. Yell "Outta my way"! and climb over the slower employees to get to the elevator.

I answered "a" and everyone else answered "c".

Which just goes to show how stupid I am.

We had an hour long presentation by a man who was clearly in his late 60's and somewhat unaware of the actual disasters that might confront a major city like Manhattan in this century.

For example since he grew up in the 50's he still thought it was possible to survive a direct nuclear strike as long as you hid under your desk.

He also mentioned that the subways were a good place to hide as long as the island was not swamped by the ocean at which point you would become part of a tremendously filthy permanent aquarium.

Also…It is not possible to survive a biological attack simply by holding your shirt over your mouth and later taking a shower.

Anyway, nothing he offered was of any help, so I wrote my own Action Plan...

Emergency Action Plan Instructions

Please copy and hand these out to your employees.

If you find yourself in a disaster be it biological, nuclear, chemical or even the threat of a polyester sale at Barney's, you can emerge safely from the situation.

What to do after the incident:

First: assess the situation, are all your limbs still attached to your torso, what about your head? Then awesome, there is a good chance you are still alive.

Second: is anyone around you hurt ? Do you like those people, if so don't steal their wallet and just leave. At least have the decency to prop their head up with some debris before you rob them.

Third: Wait for instructions from well-prepared authority figures. Of course it is likely those people will not appear and you will have to make do with some third or fourth-tier idiot who wasn't smart enough to just head home at the first sign a disaster was imminent.

Here are some of the high-tech ways they may contact you with further ways to harm or hinder your attempts to get home safely ...

With a little foresight on your part and some help from our elected officials, chances are your death will be a long drawn out, miserable painful fiasco and nothing short of the Hand of God will be able to save you.

So just relax, light up a blunt, smoke a little and don't get so worked up.