Three Awesome Ways to Get Murdered (Suggestions for My Wife)

Someday my wife is going to kill me. I know this. She knows this. And, more importantly, she knows that I know. It's an unspoken agreement that at some point in our relationship, she will have to make the regrettable, but completely necessary and justified decision to end my existence on this plane. This will occur for one of three reasons (all of which, I hear, judges are very lenient about):

How can I convince women this is sexy?

1. Mercy Killing- I'm on a fast decline. Where hair once was there is unbroken tracts of gleaming scalp. I am slowly starting to look like the kid from Powder, except in my ears where a Gremlin-like flurry of hair has started to appear. I groan when I sit down. I grasp for things to help pull me up (furniture, small children, whatever). One can only imagine what state of decline I'll be in 10 years or 15. Hopefully, my dear wife doesn't let me live long enough to find out.

2. Temporary Insanity- Her insanity, not mine. But it will be me who drives her there. You can only walk in on your seemingly grown husband wearing nothing but a soiled pair of boxer shorts building a fort with a pile of Legos in the bedroom so many times. This, I'm told, is not how grown up people behave. Eventually, she'll reach a place where the idea of finding her husband looking at clown porn would be preferable to the regular type of juvenile shenanigans she frequently discovers. Someday, she's bound to snap.

What? It's a thing.

3. Whatever defense my wife opts for, I would like the judge and jury to know that she has my full support and cooperation. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already and, in a way, I judge her for it.

So, my darling, when you are ready to take that murder-plunge, my only hope is that you will do it with my artistic sensitivity and flair in mind. Like these people. I want to die exactly like these people.

1. Death by Cleavage- Donna Marie Lange has huge knockers. She must. Because she used those enlarged fun bags to motorboat her boyfriend to death after a fight in their trailer. Because of course they live in a trailer. The news stories on this case I've found don't outright state it, but I'm sure the mortician had a helluva time wiping the smile off her boyfriend's face.
   
   
2. Death by Coochie- My wife hates it when I refer to a woman's special garden as a coochie. Or a special garden. (You'll be able to read about the rest of my favorite euphemisms in the court documents. There's a lot of them.) But I would never refer to her area as a poisoned swamp. Which is exactly what Sao Jose do Rio Preto of Brazil was faced with. Aside from having a name that sounds like a bottle of hot sauce, Sao was also a lousy husband. At least I assume he was. He must've been some kind of terrible person to warrant his wife poisoning her bearded clam to ensure a painful death for her husband the next time he went in for a taste of sideway sloppy joe.
   
   
3. Death by Xbox- I'll bet you thought this last method was going to involve another lady part. Believe me, it wasn't for lack of searching, but as it turns out, ladies only have so many parts that can be honed into lethal weapons.
   
   I'm not a big gamer because my mental maturity is arrested at age 9, not 14. But I still like the idea of getting hammered to death by an Xbox while the theme song from Mario plays in the background. I wish I could cite a single news article for this one, but it's happened far more times than I'm comfortable with. I mean they sell that thing at Toys R' Us, for Pete's sake. At any rate what this method lacks in terms of pink parts, it more than makes up for it with animation and quirkiness.

Mind you, this is not a hard and fast list, honey. Feel free to mix it up. Combine some of them. Add in your own flair. Hell, bring a friend. Make it fun for you. 

Read Jamie's soon to be posthumous new book Bud the Crud: http://www.amazon.com/Crud-Vampire-Werewolf-Wars-Jamie-Wasserman/dp/1938758196/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1378316898&sr=8-1&keywords=bud+the+crud  

Words the Dictionary Desperately Needs

My own contributions to the internet’s ever expanding vocabulary. Wayne is not a real person, but he is based on one. You know who you are, Bart.

1. Reccofail- A terrible recommendation from a friend.
   
   "Dwayne suggested we watch Weekend at Bernies II, but it was another reccofail. What a wank."

2. Judgerview- After making a poor recommendation (i.e., for a book, movie, restaurants, swinger's club), you forever judge that person for liking it to begin with.
   
   "Dwayne is such a freak. He suggested we watch Azz Blasters 12 in 3-D at the Multiplex. I can't even look at him anymore, my judgerview is always on around him."

Jamie Wasserman is to book writing what Paul Reubens was to sitting in the back row of movie theaters. Check out my stuff on Amazon or your wherever your favorite non-discriminating book sellers can be found.

The Three Worst Jobs for an Introvert (Based on Personal Experience)

I am an introvert. Given a choice between meeting new people in a social setting or performing unnecessary surgery on myself with a rusty spoon, I will choose the spoon every time. I will even bring my own if it means I don't have to go to the spoon store and talk to a judgmental cashier beforehand. As you can imagine, this makes functioning in society somewhat difficult especially when holding a job, having children, and getting a colonoscopy all require some degree of face to face interaction.

Or ass to face. The worst kind. And yes, I've been dying to use this image. 

That said, there are certain measures people like me take to minimize our direct contact. Like never dating (it was a choice, I tell you!), shunning music and festivities like Grendel, and taking jobs whose primary functions involve human to computer.

Just like with Hal, but without all that messy sexual tension.

Of course sometimes circumstances kick in (like being a teen and poor and having to repay your neighbor for his defiled garden gnome) and you take just about any job you can find. Even ones that require you to regularly defy your very nature. Some are, of course, worse than others. 

3. Waiter

Work in any service industry can be crippling for an introvert. It forces you to regularly interact with people who seemingly only leave their house to vent their anger at the nearest person with a name tag. And you have to accept it all with a smile. 

But waiting tables is twice a worse. For one, it confirms everything you already suspect about people-- that they're loud, disgusting, angry and filthy, filthy creatures. The things people leave on their plates after a meal out is more disturbing than the boat ride scene in Willy Wonka. And god help you if something in their order isn't exactly so (one customer tore me a new one after I brought him a regular spoon for his soup).

In his defense, I had carved that spoon into a shiv and buried it in his neck.

Then you can pretty much buckle yourself in for an emotional beat-down sending you turtling into your safe introverted shell. You'll leave your job only more convinced that humanity is something to be despised and feared and that a good time is watching Seinfeld reruns and going to bed at 9pm.

Instead consider working as a bartender. Usually, it's so loud in a bar you can't hear anything and drunk people tend to be a happier lot.

2. Soccer Coach
Want to know three things introverted people are really crappy at--being the center of attention, exercising confidence, and being an authority figure. Want to know the three most important qualities of being a coach?

Add whistle blowing and not getting winded when chasing a soccer ball and you've actually covered all the requirements

By the the end of my son's first soccer practice, a Lord of the Flies like society had evolved and I was Piggy. Kids had wandered into neighboring fields and playgrounds. Two got into a fistfight. One repeatedly got hit in the head with a soccer ball and had to leave early. And yet the only person weeping uncontrollably when all was said and done was me.

Instead consider guidance counselor. All the authority in a quiet, windowless office. And being creepy is a requirement of both introverts and counselors.

1. Event Photographer
For an extrovert (i.e., seemingly everyone but me), it may be hard to imagine what it's like to shrink from human contact like a Polar Bear's testicles in Alaska. Let me try and put you in my shoes for a moment...

Imagine it's night and it's so dark that you can barely see your own feet. The moon is out, but it's faint and shrinking. In front of you, so close you could touch it is a huge, clear tent. Inside are hundreds of people having a party. There's music and dancing and food and laughter. Lots and lots of laughter. What there isn't is a door that you can use to get in and, even if there was, you probably couldn't muddle through the dark to get there. So instead you just sit there staring. It's important to understand, too, that you can see the people inside but they can't see you--you're utterly, fucking invisible. You might hear snippets of conversation, but it's in a foreign tongue. Or maybe it's English. It doesn't matter, because you don't understand a word of it, let alone why everyone is so damn happy. I mean there isn't a TV or blanket in sight!

Sadly, Rupert Everret does not come to your rescue here.

That's how life is everyday for someone like me (with varying degrees of crippling shame, embarrassment and panic).

Now dig the job description for event photographer--circulating among a room packed elbow to elbow with strangers celebrating something you have no understanding of. Nobody knows you so no nobody bothers to approach you. And yet as an event photographer, it's your job to capture every painful moment on film. Which involves approaching every single person there and asking them to smile.

This would be like having a crippling fear of flying and working as an airline stewardess if, you know, the plane's destination was the bottom of the ocean.

Consider, low budget porn.  Just, for the love of god, don't share it with anyone.

]

What's more fun than spinning?

Spinning with a bell in your hand!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvyylZTr0Co&sns=em


This kid has it all figured out.

Three Toddler TV Shows with Implied Horrific Backstories

Most toddler cartoons are wrapped in sugary goodness and some of the most obvious morality lessons outside of Garrison Keiler. They feature happy characters whose toughest personal obstacle is determining if it's still okay to hug Elmo or not.

It's not. I'm not sure it ever was.

When personal adversity does occur, it's solved within five minutes and everything returns to normal because that's exactly how real life works and what better lesson to teach children. Even for these characters who've endured the kind of personal tragedies usually reserved for residents of Florida trailer parks.

3. Caillou

That bald-headed atrocity you're looking at is a winsome four-year old named Caillou who is completely over-indulged by his parents even as he gets into constant trouble. In fact, no matter how much Calliou disobeys his folks or whines, he's never punished. The show ends, Caillou learns a valuable lesson, and we search high and low for how to block a TV show on our DVR. Which, of course, is perfectly normal parental behavior when your child is dying of cancer.

Just think about it...this kid is four years old. Unless your name is Vin Diesel, baldness is not a fashion statement. It's either hereditary curse passed down to you from your Uncle Louie or the result of chemotherapy. And the way his parents treat Caillou, with no consequences or anger, is either because he's really Paris Hilton without her wig or because there's simply no point in imparting life lessons on someone who won't live long enough to put them into play.

2. Max and Ruby

Not pictured: Parents and crime-scene tape

A precocious bunny rabbit named Max lives with his big sister Ruby. Max is constantly getting into trouble, but Max's hijinx always work out in the end. Occasionally, Max and Ruby's grandmother shows up to take them out for ice cream. The parents never appear and are never mentioned because they're dead. 

This show raises a lot of questions. This isn't an adult-less world like in Peanuts. Max and Ruby are surrounded by teachers, police officers, scout leaders and their freaking grandmother. But it's Ruby who helps Max get dressed, who takes him shopping for clothes, and makes his meals. Apparently, whatever happened to their folks must have been severe enough that no one mentions it. In fact the whole fucking town must be in denial otherwise these kids would be in the rabbit-equivalent of a foster home.  Which is still better than the next cartoon.

1. Dora the Explorer

What could possibly go wrong in here?

Dora is surrounded by parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins (like any Mexican family. Yeah, I went there) as well as an assortment of talking animals, maps, and nylon backpacks. There's no lack of authority figures here. Only a total lack of caring that almost borders on malice. In fact, it's apparent that everyone in this cartoon wants Dora dead.

Just dig a list of places Dora has traipsed off to without so much as a parental nod: the spooky forest, raging rapids, and frozen mountaintops. I don't even let my kids cross the street by themselves. Where are they going to send her next? The pedophiles house? The haunted mansion? How about the indian burial ground? Is there a future episode where the map and backpack conspire where to bury her once and for all?


Or maybe I've just spent way too much timing watching these shows.

Minor Actors Who Stole Classic Movies

Minor Actors Who Stole Classic Movies

There are actors who steal a movie. With winning performances, dramatic roles, and enormous penises (refer to Long Dong Silver). And then there are actors who make off with the scenery, lighting, camera equipment and film reels. Like these folks:

4. Lycia Naff-Total Recall
Who the hell is Lycia Naff you say? Calm down, I reply. It's just a blog. Maybe you'll remember Lycia if I showed you these...

Why god! Why did you only give me two hands?!

Mention Total Recall and the first thing that instantly comes to mind is the three-breasted Martian hooker. Mind you, this is also a movie that has Sharon Stone on it. And we're talking hot Sharon Stone, fresh off Basic Instinct Sharon Stone, not the crazy, scarf-wearing to hide her wrinkles Sharon Stone from The Muse.

Lycia has about 30 seconds of screen time and 10 seconds of that is her getting shot with her top completely on (a waste if you ask me). But still that's the image that haunts us (and by us, I mean man-childs everywhere). It's become our Quixotic windmill. Our elusive dream (for those who never heard of Quixote). And also the answer to one of life's ultimate questions--what could be better than a pair of breasts? The answer is of course three. Three breasts. In fact the only thing that would have improved this wonderful character is if the extra boob was on her back for, you know, when you're dancing. Or four breasts. That'd be great, too.

3. Peter Sellers- Pink Panther The original Pink Panther film, A Shot in the Dark, was not contrary to what you might think about the bumbling Inspector Clouseau, but rather a highly competent jewel thief named Sir Charles Litton (David Niven). The movie itself was more drama than comedy until Peter Sellers entered the scene, then all bets were off. And those were the only scenes that worked. The four subsequent films and two disastrous remakes chucked all the drama out the window and made no hints about who the real star was...

A giant and mute pink-colored panther.

Think about it. That'd be like one of the screaming residents of Tokyo getting the starring role in the next Godzilla movie (with Godzilla never again appearing on film).

2. Trigger- The Lone RangerIn a movie this bad, even the fake cactus plants and tumbleweeds are at risk to steal a scene, but don't forget this film has Johnny Depp in it. Edward Scissorhands Johnny Depp. Pirates of the Carribean Johnny Depp. WInona Ryder Johnny Depp. The man is a freaking genius.

They had to digitally block out his enormous dong.

And yet, it's an 11-year old nag that steals the movie with sly nods to the audience and comic timing that eluded the movie's stars. Even Arnie Hammer, the man who will go down in history as the man who put the silver bullet in the Lone Ranger franchise, gave the horse his well to do props, "The horse and I are not speaking. He stole the whole movie."

1. Jack Nicholson-Easy Rider

Above: The worst Captain America Ever

Easy Rider is the seminal film of the 60's, depicting a rejection of the establishment and portraying the dichotomy that existed between disaffected youth and the 'squares'. And if you're being honest with yourself, it's also boring as shit. It's Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper riding around on motorcycles and taking very real drugs. In case you lost count, that's two activities that are much more fun to do

than watch. If only they could have thrown some soccer in there, they would have had the trifecta. In fact the only thing that saved this movie from becoming a painful but mandatory viewing requirement for anyone with a ponytail, is Jack Nicholson being just Jack Nicholson.

The Video

Jamie Wasserman is a starving writer. Help put some Ramen Noodles on his table and some fancy hats on his head. Linky

Movie Review: Zombie Strippers

Movie Review: Zombie Strippers

The simplistic plot breakdown: A commando squad is sent to a top-secret lab (located conveniently next to a titty bar) to clean up an experiment with zombies gone wrong. But one of their own is bitten, flees to the strip club for safety, and proceeds to infect all of the dancers who are transformed into some kind of super zombies because, I don't know, girl power or something. Freddy Krueger is in it and there's some silly dance off at the end.

The scathing review: The combination of naked women and zombies should be a no-brainer--like mixing chocolate with peanut butter. How can two things so right, so pure and good, not combine to form something even better? The cinematic equivalent of Voltron, but with far more boobs.

With apologies to the pink lion, but she never took her top off.

But this is Hollywood and Hollywood is made up of people who put nipples on Batman. Who gave us Kathy Bates full frontal. They've done more terrible things to breasts than Chik Fil A, Frank Perdue, and the Colonel combined. And sadly, Zombie Strippers is no exception.

I'm a dong man!

Let's start with the positives. There are a lot of boobs in this movie. A lot. At least 1/3 of the film is dedicated to just showing the titular (pun totally intended) strippers stripping. And that's about it. I can't say anything good about the acting which is hammy, but not in a satirical or campy way, the makeup and special effects which are laughably lousy (my daughter routinely cooks up far worse horrors when she and her friends try on my wife's makeup), or the baffling lack of a plot. 

Actual picture of me after playing dress-up with my daughter

And these days, boobs only get you so far. We've been spoiled, you see. Boobs are, at any given moment, an arm's reach away. On your iPhone, television, computer. Hell, give it another year and you'll be watching bare boobs while waiting for your toast to brown. We are boob-rich, boob-jaded. Our boobeth runneth over. That is not to say the boobs aren't nice. They are Jenna Jameson boobs which, while man-made, are still a spectactle to behold (do we appreciate Michaelangelo's David any less because it is carved from stone?). There are Roxy Saint boobs which are small but wine-glass esque. There are blonde boobs. Brunette boobs. And gothic boobs. There is a boob for every boob.

And unfortunately, there are also zombie boobs. The one saving grace of this movie are the lively flotation devices which bounce happily around a stripper pole for 40 minutes. And then the strippers get zombified and the boobs become sad boobs. Angry boobs. Old, withered boobs. And you'll want to look away, but you can't. And for a long time, those will be the only boobs you'll see for a long time.

Remember when you saw Jaws for the first time as a kid? Remember how long it took to go back in the water after that? Yeah, it's like that, but with boobs instead.

Pretend instead of a shark, I'm your grandmother's breasts. Now come swimming with me!

Instead of this watch: Any Russ Meyers film. Now there was a man with a healthy respect for boobies.