I've never met someone so dedicated to the fine art of swearing like Pete. He's the only person I know to have judged a movie for not having enough use of the word "fuck". In his honor, I present to you every swear ever used in the entire run of the Sopranos:
the sopranos, uncensored. from victor solomon on Vimeo.
Friday, February 20, 2009
The latest:
Matt celebrated his 32nd birthday on Monday - we had a good old fashioned birthday party (as evidenced by the cake). Just look at the excitement on his face! My parents and I went in on a Wii for Matt... we haven't spent any quality time together since!
I guess that's about it. Matt's back from Vegas tonight (business, not pleasure). Alice went to the vet again yesterday - she has a going problem that's becoming a growing problem. But she's on medication for a couple weeks - I'll let you know how she's doing (Lauri).
Closing day was changed to March 5th - less than two weeks from today. So now we start packing up our life. I took the dogs out this morning and wondered, "What if I just left all this poo in the yard?" Thank God I worked at Uline - we were able to get a ton of stuff for cheap.
I guess that's about it. Matt's back from Vegas tonight (business, not pleasure). Alice went to the vet again yesterday - she has a going problem that's becoming a growing problem. But she's on medication for a couple weeks - I'll let you know how she's doing (Lauri).
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Top 5 Singers
Cuz we haven't done one in a long time I thought we could do another Top 5 but this time list the sexy sirens who melt your heart with their voices:
1. Leona Lewis - A sexy british girl who has a nice body, writes her own songs, has a sexy british accent . . . oh she can sing good too.
2. Britney Spears - After absence from the Top 5 she jumps back in with her hot bod and her catchy pop ditties.
3. Katy Perry - Am I the only one that finds her very sexy? She admits she kissed a girl and she liked it. By the way Maxim said they longed for her a bi -curious preacher's daughter who looks like she should be painted on a B-52 bomber. I agree.
4. Hayley Williams (of Paramore) - Any girl who can yell and rock out is hot.
5. Taylor Swift - Hottest Country singer out there who's also making counrty wildly popular (but Randy might think otherwise).
1. Leona Lewis - A sexy british girl who has a nice body, writes her own songs, has a sexy british accent . . . oh she can sing good too.
2. Britney Spears - After absence from the Top 5 she jumps back in with her hot bod and her catchy pop ditties.
3. Katy Perry - Am I the only one that finds her very sexy? She admits she kissed a girl and she liked it. By the way Maxim said they longed for her a bi -curious preacher's daughter who looks like she should be painted on a B-52 bomber. I agree.
4. Hayley Williams (of Paramore) - Any girl who can yell and rock out is hot.
5. Taylor Swift - Hottest Country singer out there who's also making counrty wildly popular (but Randy might think otherwise).
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Yep...
We're moving to Indianapolis! Here's what'll probably be the last pic of our house. And I think Matt was feeling left out of our blog so here's a picture of him today too... lol.News..
Since Sheila has been posting and commenting on the blog lately, i figured I'd spill the beans on her news. (sorry Sheila if ya didn't want me to tell). Sheila and her husband Matt are moving to Indiana in a month. Matt is originally from Indiana, so they'd be moving back close to his family. Enjoy house hunting and keep sending pics of the kids (aka Rudy and Alice)!! And don't forget to blog either! :)
Friday, February 06, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Jeff and Randy Fought, the Raccoons Won
This isn't how I wanted it to go down and I tried to stop him, I really did. But the fact is that Jeff caught a beat down last night and Randy was the one who did it. Well, Randy and the Raccoons.
After posting about the Applebee's incident last night I thought I'd better check on Randy, as I read the story back to myself I realized that it had been a long time since we'd had a night like that and Randy might have been feeling a little...on edge. When I got to his house, Jeff had already commented on my post. See the comments on the post below to see what he wrote. Randy, to say the least, was not happy. When he answered the door, he didn't even say hello, he went right into it.
"What's with this motherfucker!?"
"Wha?"
"Jeff's comment on your post! Doesn't he know I ain't to be trifled with? Especially after last night?" He said as he pointed to the open laptop on his desk. Reading Jeff's comment, I could see why Randy was so pissed, but I tried to diffuse the situation.
"That's just his sense of humor..."
"Fuck that! Lets roll."
I shrugged, as I followed him out the door and out to his car I figured that was it. A few beers and a few laughs and everything would be back to normal. But in the back of my mind I could see that a switch had been thrown in Randy's brain. For me, looking back on Taken, I think it was the sheer banality of the movie that really got Randy's hackles up. A person can only take so much mediocrity before he decides he needs to become the shrieking banshee howling over the mind numbing din. As we got his car, I asked Randy where we were rolling to, he said, "we are going to settle the score."
"Not Dave and Buster's again," I said, "I beat you at Time Crisis 20 fucking times now and it ain't gonna change tonight."
I could barely see his eyes as he looked over at me in the dark car, but what was unmistakable was that knowing smirk as we pulled away into the night. When we started heading west instead of east, I knew we were in for a long night.
"where we goin' man?"
Randy changed the subject.
"I hope Watchmen is either really good or really bad, because if its just so so, I think I might lose really lose it." He was so matter of fact, as if he hadn't just really lost it last night, laying waste to the poor food service workers who didn't make it through the Chili's hiring process.
"You'd rather it was bad than just okay?" I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted the conversation to play itself out.
"of course. If it's terrible, we can just forget about it, move on, never watch it again and go back to reading the comic. But if its just okay, we'll watch it over and over again, wondering why it doesn't really work. Every time it comes on cable we'll sit there, turn our brains off and wonder what went wrong and the next time we read the comic, all we'll be able to concentrate on is how easy it would be to just watch the shitty movie and fast forward to the parts we want to see."
It was the same reason, I haven't read Lord of the Rings in 6 years. I'm still waiting for Viggo Mortensen to get out of my brain. By this time, the reality was starting to set in, Randy was clearly unstable and I had no idea where we were heading. We rode in silence as the 210 turned into the 134. From there we took a southerly course. It was then that the first real rumblings of dread started to bubble up in my stomach. He wasn't really gonna go see Jeff and "settle the score" was he? Had things gotten to this point? Its amazing when you think how fragile the mind can be when a small thing like an average movie on a Monday night can wreak so much havoc. It also occurred to me that Randy was thinking strategically, he was coming in from the Highland Park side instead of the South Pasadena side...the square community wouldn't even know we were coming. There would be NO warning. As we climbed the hill up to the condo, I was trying desperately to get Randy to call this off."C'mon dude, lets just get some Del and have the left over beer from the Super Bowl. You know how long its been since I had some macho nachos? This is trouble we don't need."
"Your Tombstone references aren't going to end this situation and neither is appealing to my fast food nostalgia."
Well that was it, the play had been called, time to protect the quarterback.
Randy seemed calm but confident as we walked up to the door. His knock was firm but not overwhelming. Jeff answered immediately, even before the third knock was finished. Did he know we were coming?
"what took you so long?" Jeff said as he turned his back to us and walked inside. We followed.
"it's time to settle up."
"if we're gonna do this, we have to be quiet, Amanda's asleep."
"Don't worry this won't take long..."
And with that they were at each other. The action was fast and close like the dust ball you see when cartoon characters fight. I was amazed at their ability to anticipate each others moves. Punch, block, kick, duck. It was as if they were the antithesis of one another. But they were learning each others styles and soon the blows started landing. Jeff seemed to have the advantage, he knew the terrain, but Randy held is own by sheer brutal force. He didn't have to maneuver around the lamp or the coffee table he simply punched right through it.
I stood back, I wanted no part of this. If I remember right, I kept saying something like"Alright, you've both made your point, let's just get some beers!" My pleas had no effect. They were in a grapple, a stalemate; and neither was backing down. When they finally broke apart it seemed like an explosion had gone off between them and they burst apart to opposite sides of the room. As Jeff paused for a millisecond to catch his breath, Randy made his move. I could see right away what his plan was. Jeff was standing in front of an open sliding glass door and outside...thar be monsters. Randy used one of those two legged kicks where his whole body is parallel to the ground and caught Jeff right in the sternum. It was enough to put him down...outside. Randy quickly slid the door shut and slammed down on the door lock. As Jeff began to get up, the first of them came. As Jeff realized what was happening the look on his face was something I won't soon forget. He made a move for the door but their numbers were too great and they were coming from the trees and down the hill like a flood. Raccoons. They were everywhere. On top of Jeff all you could see were those little raccoon hands, claws glistening in the moonlight, raining down scratching blows over and over again. The high pitched screaming came in short bursts at first as Jeff tried to roll and thrash around in an effort to shoe them off. It only made them madder. When they pinned his arms the screaming became constant. The last thing I saw was a mess of brown and black fur.
"I can't watch this...lets get out of here." I said.
"Now its over." Randy said as he walked out the door.
Randy, didn't talk the whole way home but that shit eating grin never left his face.
As for Jeff, I'm sure he made it out okay, nothing a few band aids and a little iodine won't take care of.
After posting about the Applebee's incident last night I thought I'd better check on Randy, as I read the story back to myself I realized that it had been a long time since we'd had a night like that and Randy might have been feeling a little...on edge. When I got to his house, Jeff had already commented on my post. See the comments on the post below to see what he wrote. Randy, to say the least, was not happy. When he answered the door, he didn't even say hello, he went right into it.
"What's with this motherfucker!?"
"Wha?"
"Jeff's comment on your post! Doesn't he know I ain't to be trifled with? Especially after last night?" He said as he pointed to the open laptop on his desk. Reading Jeff's comment, I could see why Randy was so pissed, but I tried to diffuse the situation.
"That's just his sense of humor..."
"Fuck that! Lets roll."
I shrugged, as I followed him out the door and out to his car I figured that was it. A few beers and a few laughs and everything would be back to normal. But in the back of my mind I could see that a switch had been thrown in Randy's brain. For me, looking back on Taken, I think it was the sheer banality of the movie that really got Randy's hackles up. A person can only take so much mediocrity before he decides he needs to become the shrieking banshee howling over the mind numbing din. As we got his car, I asked Randy where we were rolling to, he said, "we are going to settle the score."
"Not Dave and Buster's again," I said, "I beat you at Time Crisis 20 fucking times now and it ain't gonna change tonight."
I could barely see his eyes as he looked over at me in the dark car, but what was unmistakable was that knowing smirk as we pulled away into the night. When we started heading west instead of east, I knew we were in for a long night.
"where we goin' man?"
Randy changed the subject.
"I hope Watchmen is either really good or really bad, because if its just so so, I think I might lose really lose it." He was so matter of fact, as if he hadn't just really lost it last night, laying waste to the poor food service workers who didn't make it through the Chili's hiring process.
"You'd rather it was bad than just okay?" I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted the conversation to play itself out.
"of course. If it's terrible, we can just forget about it, move on, never watch it again and go back to reading the comic. But if its just okay, we'll watch it over and over again, wondering why it doesn't really work. Every time it comes on cable we'll sit there, turn our brains off and wonder what went wrong and the next time we read the comic, all we'll be able to concentrate on is how easy it would be to just watch the shitty movie and fast forward to the parts we want to see."
It was the same reason, I haven't read Lord of the Rings in 6 years. I'm still waiting for Viggo Mortensen to get out of my brain. By this time, the reality was starting to set in, Randy was clearly unstable and I had no idea where we were heading. We rode in silence as the 210 turned into the 134. From there we took a southerly course. It was then that the first real rumblings of dread started to bubble up in my stomach. He wasn't really gonna go see Jeff and "settle the score" was he? Had things gotten to this point? Its amazing when you think how fragile the mind can be when a small thing like an average movie on a Monday night can wreak so much havoc. It also occurred to me that Randy was thinking strategically, he was coming in from the Highland Park side instead of the South Pasadena side...the square community wouldn't even know we were coming. There would be NO warning. As we climbed the hill up to the condo, I was trying desperately to get Randy to call this off."C'mon dude, lets just get some Del and have the left over beer from the Super Bowl. You know how long its been since I had some macho nachos? This is trouble we don't need."
"Your Tombstone references aren't going to end this situation and neither is appealing to my fast food nostalgia."
Well that was it, the play had been called, time to protect the quarterback.
Randy seemed calm but confident as we walked up to the door. His knock was firm but not overwhelming. Jeff answered immediately, even before the third knock was finished. Did he know we were coming?
"what took you so long?" Jeff said as he turned his back to us and walked inside. We followed.
"it's time to settle up."
"if we're gonna do this, we have to be quiet, Amanda's asleep."
"Don't worry this won't take long..."
And with that they were at each other. The action was fast and close like the dust ball you see when cartoon characters fight. I was amazed at their ability to anticipate each others moves. Punch, block, kick, duck. It was as if they were the antithesis of one another. But they were learning each others styles and soon the blows started landing. Jeff seemed to have the advantage, he knew the terrain, but Randy held is own by sheer brutal force. He didn't have to maneuver around the lamp or the coffee table he simply punched right through it.
I stood back, I wanted no part of this. If I remember right, I kept saying something like"Alright, you've both made your point, let's just get some beers!" My pleas had no effect. They were in a grapple, a stalemate; and neither was backing down. When they finally broke apart it seemed like an explosion had gone off between them and they burst apart to opposite sides of the room. As Jeff paused for a millisecond to catch his breath, Randy made his move. I could see right away what his plan was. Jeff was standing in front of an open sliding glass door and outside...thar be monsters. Randy used one of those two legged kicks where his whole body is parallel to the ground and caught Jeff right in the sternum. It was enough to put him down...outside. Randy quickly slid the door shut and slammed down on the door lock. As Jeff began to get up, the first of them came. As Jeff realized what was happening the look on his face was something I won't soon forget. He made a move for the door but their numbers were too great and they were coming from the trees and down the hill like a flood. Raccoons. They were everywhere. On top of Jeff all you could see were those little raccoon hands, claws glistening in the moonlight, raining down scratching blows over and over again. The high pitched screaming came in short bursts at first as Jeff tried to roll and thrash around in an effort to shoe them off. It only made them madder. When they pinned his arms the screaming became constant. The last thing I saw was a mess of brown and black fur.
"I can't watch this...lets get out of here." I said.
"Now its over." Randy said as he walked out the door.
Randy, didn't talk the whole way home but that shit eating grin never left his face.
As for Jeff, I'm sure he made it out okay, nothing a few band aids and a little iodine won't take care of.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Last Night Randy Trashed the Applebee's
The night started out innocently enough. We went to see a movie. It was Taken, that new Liam Neeson movie where he tries to be a bad ass. I thought it was okay, but it really seemed to bother Randy. When we left the theatre he just seemed really morose. When I asked him what was wrong he just mumbled something about being "sicka dis shit" and something about "fucking studio system" I let it go, I didn't want to stir him into one of his rages.
"Hey fuck it man, lets go get some beer and mozzarella sticks" I said, trying to change the subject. He grudgingly agreed and being that we were in Monrovia, you know we had to hit up Applebee's.
The beer and appetizer trios were not helping Randy break out of his foul mood. I thought he was maybe just grouchy over having to stay in Boston and extra two days, but this seemed to go deeper. I thought I would let him open up a little bit so I asked the question I now regret ever asking...
"So what was so bad about the movie?" The look he gave me back was one of questioning disgust.
"How can you even ask that question?!" he said in a voice that was 2 decibels above a whisper.
"How can one man be a dopey idiot, buying his daughter a karaoke machine and the next, be like Mr. Bad ass super agent torturer. The Neeson character made no sense! and the simplistic linear plot could have been written by a two year old." he said now clearly not whispering.
"alright calm down", I said.
"I will not calm down! did you see the editing? It was like a kiddie scissor class cut the film up for paper dolls! It made the fight scenes terrible."
I could tell then that we were going down a really dark path and there was no turning back. Randy only makes Jaws references when he's really pissed.
"I've been quiet about this for too long! it's time to speak OUT!"
Before I could ask for the check the waitress was at our table.
"is everything alright?", she asked, knowing it wasn't.
"my friend's just under a lot of stress..." I said.
"Do you like Liam Neeson?" Randy asked the waitress, looking her intensely in the eye.
Here we go again, I thought to myself. Memories of drunken brawls, broken pint glasses, and cold sidewalks flooded in.
She stared back blankly, not knowing how to respond.
"Its a simple question, do you like Liam Neeson?" he said with an impatience now.
"I just saw him in that new movie and I thought he was good..." she said, hoping this was the right answer. It wasn't.
"That's fucking IT!" Randy, now shouting, threw his hands across the table and with a hulk like roar pushed all the food and beer onto the floor. I managed to get out of the way in time, but the waitress had a mixture of Miller lite, ranch dressing and marinara sauce all over her.
"I fucking hate the Hollywood studio system!" Randy said as he kicked the table over. It looked like he was going to grab a chair, but right at that moment two of the male waiters came up behind him and each grabbed an arm and started dragging him toward the door.
"Fuck Applebees and Fuck Hollywood!!" Randy screamed as they dragged him away.
"I'll puke in your fucking restaurant, I'll puke in your fucking restaurant..." he kept screaming.
And then it happened. Just as they were about to get him out the door he managed to get a finger to his mouth and down his throat. He puked all over the floor and all over the two waiters. They immediately let him go and backed away. At that point Randy bolted out the door, so I took my queue to do the same and ran right after him. We got in the car and boned out.
He spent the car ride home hugging himself, rocking back and forth saying under his breath, "I'll kill George Lucas, I'll fucking kill George Lucas..." over and over again.
I wasn't sure how he was making the connection but I knew how he felt. Maybe it's only a matter of time before we all feel the need to tear down a corporate edifice to make our voices heard.
Say what you will about Randy but the dude is passionate about cinema.
I'm just sorry that we probably won't be able to go back to Applebee's
"Hey fuck it man, lets go get some beer and mozzarella sticks" I said, trying to change the subject. He grudgingly agreed and being that we were in Monrovia, you know we had to hit up Applebee's.
The beer and appetizer trios were not helping Randy break out of his foul mood. I thought he was maybe just grouchy over having to stay in Boston and extra two days, but this seemed to go deeper. I thought I would let him open up a little bit so I asked the question I now regret ever asking...
"So what was so bad about the movie?" The look he gave me back was one of questioning disgust.
"How can you even ask that question?!" he said in a voice that was 2 decibels above a whisper.
"How can one man be a dopey idiot, buying his daughter a karaoke machine and the next, be like Mr. Bad ass super agent torturer. The Neeson character made no sense! and the simplistic linear plot could have been written by a two year old." he said now clearly not whispering.
"alright calm down", I said.
"I will not calm down! did you see the editing? It was like a kiddie scissor class cut the film up for paper dolls! It made the fight scenes terrible."
I could tell then that we were going down a really dark path and there was no turning back. Randy only makes Jaws references when he's really pissed.
"I've been quiet about this for too long! it's time to speak OUT!"
Before I could ask for the check the waitress was at our table.
"is everything alright?", she asked, knowing it wasn't.
"my friend's just under a lot of stress..." I said.
"Do you like Liam Neeson?" Randy asked the waitress, looking her intensely in the eye.
Here we go again, I thought to myself. Memories of drunken brawls, broken pint glasses, and cold sidewalks flooded in.
She stared back blankly, not knowing how to respond.
"Its a simple question, do you like Liam Neeson?" he said with an impatience now.
"I just saw him in that new movie and I thought he was good..." she said, hoping this was the right answer. It wasn't.
"That's fucking IT!" Randy, now shouting, threw his hands across the table and with a hulk like roar pushed all the food and beer onto the floor. I managed to get out of the way in time, but the waitress had a mixture of Miller lite, ranch dressing and marinara sauce all over her.
"I fucking hate the Hollywood studio system!" Randy said as he kicked the table over. It looked like he was going to grab a chair, but right at that moment two of the male waiters came up behind him and each grabbed an arm and started dragging him toward the door.
"Fuck Applebees and Fuck Hollywood!!" Randy screamed as they dragged him away.
"I'll puke in your fucking restaurant, I'll puke in your fucking restaurant..." he kept screaming.
And then it happened. Just as they were about to get him out the door he managed to get a finger to his mouth and down his throat. He puked all over the floor and all over the two waiters. They immediately let him go and backed away. At that point Randy bolted out the door, so I took my queue to do the same and ran right after him. We got in the car and boned out.
He spent the car ride home hugging himself, rocking back and forth saying under his breath, "I'll kill George Lucas, I'll fucking kill George Lucas..." over and over again.
I wasn't sure how he was making the connection but I knew how he felt. Maybe it's only a matter of time before we all feel the need to tear down a corporate edifice to make our voices heard.
Say what you will about Randy but the dude is passionate about cinema.
I'm just sorry that we probably won't be able to go back to Applebee's
Start Estranged at 4minutes and 32 seconds
I once got in a fight with Axl Rose and won. I'm not talkin about the fat, braided hair, no band havin Axl. I'm talking Welcome to the jungle era, snake walkin Axl. I ran into him at the Whiskey and told him that he put to much fucking Aquanet in his hair. He got all pissed and tried to take a shot at me, but I dodged it. He was so drunk that he fell on the floor. Then I stepped on his neck and said, "Fuck you Axl Rose, you ain't shit." Then he made Use Your Illusion I & II and dedicated the song Estranged to me in the liner notes. After that all was forgiven.
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