I Saw the Naked Man, Did You?

 

I’ve seen him twice––my poor eyes. The first time I saw him was before C-Jane and I were engaged, when I lived in my old apartments, before I was BIG-J, and just big-j.

 

I’d come down from my apartment with a sack of trash to be deposited in the trash dumpster. There was a rusty ten-speed bike beside the tan-bricked enclave where the refuse cans were tucked away. On the bike was a tiny battery-operated radio with the song ‘I Remember You’ by the eighties hair-band known as Skid Row blaring from the speakers. (There is some irony here since the rider was most likely homeless.)

 

I walk into the trash area and Behold!––a man spanking away at his wiener. He was standing with his back to me, giving his dog a mean beating, buck-ass neck-ed!!

 

I was stunned by what I saw. He had his back to me and I just stood there, amazed by the display of expert pole-yanking, all the while, Sebastian Bach is caterwauling, “I Reeeeemember Youuuuuu!” I nearly said, “how romantic, garbage and heavy metal” but I was afraid I’d ruin his moment or worse yet, that he’d turn around and fire at me. So loudly, I threw my sack’o’trash into the dumpster and ran away like a scared little girl!

Thank Starpulse for the above photo.

 

I was sure that would be the last time I’d see Naked Man. No, fortune chose to humor me again. This time on the way to California – Naked Man, you sure get around.

 

I was between Victorville and San Bernardino. I’d just passed Cajon Summit where the high desert begins its steep and dangerous plummet to the Riverside Valley and Inland Empire. It is the worst part of the long trip between Las Vegas and Riverside because there is two lanes of large trucks with eighteen wheels whipping around each other, as well as another two lanes of crazy automobiles with drivers who ‘think’ they are Mario Andretti, but really they are just lucky not to crash into each other. I was just trying to survive when from out of the bushes on the side of the road – there he is again – Naked Man!

 

This time he had the decency to use an old discarded floor mat to cover-up his hangy-down part. I couldn’t stare too long or I’d die in a 20-car collision. Damn you, Naked Man – damn you for trying to kill me this time. I stole one last look in my rear-view, and sure enough, he was all naked, right there, on the side of Interstate-15.

 

I don’t even remember the next thirty minutes it took to get to Riverside. All I could think about was, why? Why did I have to see another naked man in my life? What could lead to standing on the side of the road with only a floor mat to cover his man-part? Was he hoping to meet a nice lady on her way to L.A.? Did a bear eat all his clothes? That was some party, eh? And one last time, why me? Why have my eyes been cursed twice with manly nakedness? (I reeeemember youuuuu-ooouuu!)

 

Thanks Sebastian, thanks a lot!

 

 

Thank WebMD for the picture.

 

Absentee Message #2

I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. It isn’t that there hasn’t been anything to write about over the past couple of weeks, it is that I haven’t been feeling very nice. I’m tired of being mean all the time. I’m trying to be a happier fellow — all smiles and stuff.

Being a writer is one thing, but being a respected writer is a real pain in the ass. I hate political correctness. I prefer to be genuine, and at my core, genuine isn’t nice.

I’m rubbing elbows with some fantastically great writers. I shared a cool little conversation with Michael Sullivan the other day, and if I get brave enough, I’ll ask him if he’d like to do an interview. I just got published along-side some up and coming authors like Gary W. Olson, Mark Lawrence, Gene O’Neill, Nick Cato, Lee Mather, and Edward M Erdelac to name a few. I hope to capture a couple interviews with some of them as well. I’ve established an ally with book critic Ryan Lawler. Next week, I’m having  lunch with horror writer Tim Marquitz — I’m reading his fourth in the Demon Squad series and hope to have a review of it posted in the next couple of weeks.

All of the above things are happening because I haven’t been being my typical dick-self.

Anyhow, C-Jane has a big karate tournament in Riverside California on Saturday. I hope to write a post before I head to Texas for an important graduation in Dallas, and then on to meet Mr. Marquitz in El Paso. The next couple weeks should open plenty of awesome opportunities, and maybe I can stay nice about them.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Wrong Way Down

by Jake Elliot

Giveaway ends June 01, 2012.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

 

A Summary of Old Movies

Those who ride regularly upon the Shortbus may recall that C-Jane and I have GREAT DISDAIN for the growing trend of Hollywood’s insultingly stupid movies. Every year, they just get worse. I could never fathom a movie worse than Transformers II, but then they made Captain America. I haven’t seen a movie in a theater since. I will not spend my ridiculously difficult to make money to go see the Avengers.

Here is our answer. Netflix has provided us with many classic movies, and as a starting point, I decided 1970 was as good a year as any. (C-Jane added Psycho which was several years earlier, and my review is found here. We saw Casablanca, which deserves its own post––also not 1970.)

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Here is the list of what we’ve seen so far—

The Godfather – the first of three movies telling the legacy of the Corleone Family.

Kelly’s Heroes – Clint Eastwood learns the Nazis have a bunch of gold that he wants to steal.

Catch-22 – Alan Arkin plays a bombardier who wants to be relieved of duty.

Little Big Man – Dustin Hoffman is a white man who was raised by Cheyenne Indians.

M.A.S.H. – The movie that started the T.V. show in the seventies.

and Patton – George C. Scott as the General who kicked Nazi-ass.

People sure did like movies about war back then. Kelly’s Heroes, Patton, and Catch-22 are set in World War Two. MASH is set in Korea, Little Big Man is set during the American-Indian War and the Godfather is about a gang war between Mafia families. WAR, huh! Good God! What is it good for?––obviously to entertain the American masses. No wonder all our oldsters in Congress love war so much, they were breast-fed war by Hollywood.

My ultra-liberal wife is getting sick from all of the war-mongering. She will not be watching the final half of Patton with me. She hates Patton since The movie seems to be very ‘Yay, War!” I’m not too keen on it either.

The Godfather was great. James Caan, Marlon Brando, Robert Duvall, and Al Pacino, what more is there to say? Nothing. This movie gave me hope that moving backwards in time was the answer to shitty Hollywood blockbusters.

But, what surprises me is how dumb these old movies are. Granted, none of them have been as retarded as Transformers II. But with the exception of The Godfather and Little Big Man, they have each had their fair dose of dumbness. M.A.S.H. being the worst.

M.A.S.H. was awful. I think there were two screen writers – one who wasn’t very good and did not research his subject, and his retarded brother who made a football movie. The point of the movie was that three surgeons drafted into the military could sleep around with anyone, humiliate those who opposed their silly antics, go to Japan and tell the military what to do and then go back to Korea to play and win in a football bet – The End. All the actors were big names in the 70’s and their acting was about as good as if they were in Transformers II. I still don’t know why this movie was made.

Catch-22 was fantastic. It was brilliant and comedy. Bob Newhart played the role of Major Major, and Anthony Perkins playing the part of Chaplain Tappman. Everyone in the movie is nuts, except Alan Arkin, who begs to be relieved of his duty, claiming he is crazy. This movie has inspired me to read the book, but I haven’t yet.

Kelly’s Heroes, starring Clint Eastwood and a mega-cast of actors, features Donald Sutherland, Telly Savalas and Don Rickles. This was an epic war movie where they must have spent millions of dollars in pyrotechnics. They blew up all sorts of stuff – buildings, tanks, bridges, trains, people, and more buildings. BOOM! C-Jane couldn’t handle it; liberal wussy.

Little Big Man, starring Dustin Hoffman, and C-Jane asked, is he really that tiny? Of course he is, they didn’t have fancy shrinking special effects yet in 1970. He is a little guy, he was a tiny Captain Hook in the eighties, and he was a tiny man who tricked General Custer in the seventies. I loved this movie, C-Jane didn’t fully appreciate this one.

Soon, C-Jane will have control of the Netflix orders, and we’ll be back to sappy love movies and crap. (I’m lying, sort of, she does prefer boring dramas without bombs and Indian attacks, or machine-gun ambushes.) Oh well, my time of power was fun while it lasted, here comes the next wave of artsy crap.

Gulp “Gandhi?” Yuck.

Cinco Denial

Later this year, C-Jane and I are going to live in Mexico for about five weeks. It is an intensive language program with a cultural immersion. It is a little pricey, but the benefits are going to be priceless. With that said, know I have no ill with our southern neighbor.

I have no ills with Hispanic immigrants. Those who choose to become American citizens through an undeniably long process are an inspiration to the virtues of patience and determination. I am pleased to extend my hand in welcome and say, “Thank you for learning the language of English and becoming my countryman.”

Some of the more liberal members of my extended family believe we should have open borders. Again, if I could cruise on into Mexico and get ‘free’ medical care, pop out a kid or two and have ‘dual’ citizenship, and expect Mexico to teach my kids English for free along with providing my kids with free babysitting and disciplining, I’m all for open-borders. The bulls*** Obama-Care Bill is to ensure our southern neighbors continue to get free care in the US. (Obama himself said, “This bill will not include illegal immigrants.” Meaning, U.S. citizens will be forced to pay the Medicaid insurance that covers illegal immigrants though higher taxes.)

I love how Republicans want to jump up and down about ‘what a threat’ Al Qaida is to our ‘national security’ and how ‘in the interest of National Security’ they need access to all our Facebook accounts so they can ‘make sure we aren’t mingling with potential terrorists,’ but refuse to secure our border with our Mexican neighbor. Repubs may as well just say it –– “We want to use Mexicans for slave labor.”

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Yay all you white consumers run to 7-11 and buy cases of Corona. Do shots of Jose Cuervo, buy limes made in Mexico, eat Taco Bell! Celebrate the fifth of May! Get fat––barf on the side of the road––go to jail for DUI––help make lawyers and judges richer. Happy Cinco!

What is so significant about the 5th of May? I know, but I’m not saying, because 80% of Americans have no clue what Cinco de Mayo is all about. Figure it out for yourself.

On the 4th of July, our free-trade brothers and sisters in Tijuana or Juarez, are they buying cases of Bud Light? Sipping some fine Maker’s Mark while grilling hamberguesas and perro calientes? I can see it now, fireworks over Mexico City, Riva Quatro de Julio! Buenos Dios Americano!!

Yeah…I don’t think so.

So with that said, C-Jane has invited her family over for dinner. I invited mine too, but they are terrified of our hosting abilities. They said, “Oh, sorry BigJ, I got to go through my garage and kill spiders that day, maybe next year, fifth of May – nope, booked next year too.” Sure mom, just wait until Mother’s Day, “Oh, what, sorry mom, I got to do something else that day, I got it written down here somewhere, but I’m sure I don’t have time to hang out with you.”

(How petty––that BigJ––he is so petty.)

So, for tonight’s celebratory dinner, we shall eat BigJ’s world-renown fresh Guacamole made from scratch, C-Jane’s mysteriously slow-cooked Chicken Mole with her homemade tortillas and sangria (wait-a-minute, that’s Spanish…oops) and cheap tequila for BigJ’s famous margaritas. (Tequila/triple sec/lime-juice/orange-juice, shaken and poured over ice in a salt rimmed glass.)

Then, I will break out the maracas and sing “Iyee-iyee-iee-yiaee” as C-Jane plays her Spanish guitar.

picture of a BigJ look-alike singing “Iyeee-Iyaee-Ayee-Yiee”

Literacy, huh?

 

I don’t have too many nice things to say about Las Vegas, but the rent is cheap.

 

C-Jane and I participated in World Book Night. What is that? Well, thirty (30) fabulous and fantastic authors like Stephen King, Alice Sebold, and Orson Scott Card all donated thousands of books without expectation of payment to promote literacy in the US. As an author myself, I value literacy.

 

The deal is this, C-Jane and I volunteered to give away 20 free books from an author of our choice. I chose Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card since it was one of the books I read in college that inspired me to become a writer. I was pretty jazzed to give twenty copies of this awesome book to new readers.

 

So, C-Jane and I went to our local supermarket, and spoke to the manager, and they agreed with our cause. Literacy is good, M’kay? We could stand out in front of the store and promote literacy without going to jail for unlawful assembly, but we were not allowed to fist fight with the patrons of our neighborhood grocer.

 

I said, “Excuse me, but do you like to read?” And the giant fat guy with the tattoo on his 25-inch circumference neck with his equally huge girlfriend with rhinestone piercings through each of her cheeks looks at me and says, “I f**kin hate reading!”

 

“Have a nice day.”

 

The tall oriental guy with the UNLV hat says, “Why are you doing this? No one reads unless they are in jail.”

 

It was 101* Fahrenheit this afternoon, we gave it a solid hour, more like ninety minutes. “Excuse me ma’am, I’m giving away a free––” And she interrupts me, “I’m not voting for Obama, he is a liar! I hate him and all Democrats, they should all choke on their own vomit and die!!” And I say, “I just want to give you a book.” She continues, “I hate all of them, they all need to go to hell, they can all go burn, that god-damn Mitt Romney too, F-him and the Mormon Church he rode in on!” After a ten minute tirade, she then went to harass C-Jane. I wasn’t worried, C-Jane knows karate and she just learned the move called ‘Face-Smash.’ Thank you Sensei James for teaching her that one, and not a day too soon.

 

C-Jane also got the lady who said, “I only read the Bible.” Don’t get me wrong, I think Jesus rocks, but the gospels are not nearly as much fun as Ender’s Game. And then there was the meth-freak who laughed when I offered a free book. He said, “Dude, you got ten dollars I could have?”

 

Ninety minutes, we took the abuse of our ultra-ignorant neighbors. We did give away six books each, but it was horribly demoralizing. Las Vegas has got to be the dumbest city in America. I’ll get rid of my other fourteen books this Friday. I have a book signing at the renaissance festival in Boulder City. I’ll offer free books to people while dressed as a jester, waiting for the last five literate people of Las Vegas to find me. Hopefully the people of Boulder City don’t suck as retarded as the people in our neighborhood.