Thursday, May 31, 2007

Now that is funny

And you thought you had a bad day....

"Figgis Detained After 'Shoot a Pilot' Comment

From AOL News

(May 29) -- There are certain things one should probably refrain from saying at an airport, and director Mike Figgis unfortunately learned the hard way.

Figgis, who directed "Leaving Las Vegas," was reportedly held for over five hours at Los Angeles International airport after he told immigration officers "I'm here to shoot a pilot,"
according to The Guardian. In television, the first episode of a potential television show is called a pilot. However, the agents, apparently not in-the-know with industry terms, took it to mean Figgis had plans to gun down an airline pilot.

Figgis was then held in an interrogation cell for five hours, and was released after officers figured out he had no assassination plans. "

Monday, May 28, 2007

I have a mind like a steel trap

...that has been left out in the elements and has warped.

I've been depressed lately. You can often tell what mood I'm in by what I'm reading, and when I'm depressed, it's Anne Rice. Yes, I love to wallow. Bring it on.

So, I was re-reading Anne Rice and thinking about how it would be really cool to have those sorts of powers the vampires in the Rice-verse have, like killing people with the power of their mind and flying. Now I have tried, repeatedly and how, to make people cark it just by thinking about it but I have yet to have any success. If practice really made perfect my brother would have dropped dead in childhood. Still, if Bill O'Reilly suddenly and mysteriously drops dead, I'm claiming credit for it.

Where was I? Oh yes, depressed and reading Anne Rice. Suffering from insomnia, and lying in bed. Or laying in bed. Fuck, I can never remember that one. Anyway, I was thinking about how the vampires in her books never go underwater. Because if I was a vampire, I'd be going underwater. But not in pools, because I have an irrational fear of pool drains, and I have a bad reaction to chlorine. It would have to be the ocean. I like the ocean; it's very peaceful. Not when it's coming up with giant waves to kill people, but when you're swimming through the water a mile or so out from shore it is very calming. Until you start thinking about sharks, at least.

And then I wondered: If I were a vampire, and I was swimming in the ocean, would I be immune from sharks? Theoretically, no, as vampires are cold (temperature-wise) creatures, but if I had just snacked on a human I'd be warm and then maybe a shark would go for me. Then again, the shark might anyway, as sharks are rather indiscriminate eaters who will munch on things like tires and license plates and Haitian immigrants, yuck. So, if the shark does munch on me, the vampire me, that is, would I survive? Bearing in mind that the vampires in the Anne Rice universe can re-attach their limbs, if the limbs are severed, and after a period of healing everything will be hunky-dory. But, if the head is severed for any length of time the vampire is well fucked. So if it's just an arm or a leg I should be all right, as long as I can wrestle it back from the shark. That could be kinda dangerous. I don't want to be some kind of vampire Captain Ahab/Steve Zissou, disastrously in search of my missing libido and taking it out on the wrong creature. That would be bad. Also it would be bad if the shark ate my head. But even worse than that would be if the shark ate all of the vampire me. Really really a lot worse than that would be if the shark became a vampire because of eating me. Sharks are bad enough on their own, without having any vampire attributes, I think. And no one would go in the water again, if there was a Vampire/Fat Sparrow/Shark on the loose in the sea.

I wonder why no one has written about vampire/shark hybrids. After having seen "Underworld" (completely not my fault; the Spouse Sparrow revels in watching shite) I am sure that it is only a matter of time before someone writes a screenplay, and it ends up on the Sci Fi Channel, so don't blame me when it happens.

Now you know the kinds of things that keep me awake at night, while the rest of you were worrying about the Irish elections, which, as you can see, I did not even bother with. I'm still getting my head around the fact that Bertie Ahern and Enda Kenny are guys, even though they have girl names.

Fat Sparrow

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Why I am for the death penalty

So, I was reading the newspaper (Yes, I know; how very 1950's. Deal with it. I still have dial-up, too.) and there was an interesting story in there that I thought I might share with you....

Killer who wouldn't appeal is executed

A condemned killer who fought for seven years to drop his appeals, saying he owed it to his victims, was executed Tuesday by injection in Florence, Arizona.

Robert Charles Comer, 50, had been convicted of a 1987 crime wave in which he killed a camper east of Phoenix and raped a woman in front of her boyfriend.

Comer was mostly quiet as he lay strapped to a gurney before his execution. When the warden asked whether he had any last words, the California native replied: "Yes, go Raiders."

I am so morally conflicted.... Here we have a criminal who seems to understand the concept of justice, who seems to feel remorse for his crimes, who may even have partially reformed himself in prison, yet he still supports the Raiders.

Fuck it. Juice him up, Warden.

Fat Sparrow

P.S. -- Translation for all you Brit/Irish-type people out there who have no clue as to what is going on: The Raiders are a really lousy American football team, and their fans are chavs and hooligans.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Hey hey hey, it's Fat Albert!

I am so sick of seeing that smug bastard, Al Gore, plastering his smarmy face all over the media. That man is such a gasbag and blows so much hot air that if he would just shut up the carbon emissions for the United States would be cut in half. Do we really need to hear every political commentator on the planet speculate on how he may pull a last-minute surprise and announce his candidacy for the presidency? Is there anyone out there who hasn't heard about his movie? Are his 15 minutes of fame not up yet?

It's all well and good for him to preach about the horrors of gas-guzzling cars, but not everyone can afford a hybrid. Sorry Al, some of us have to buy cars that are (gasp!) 10 years old or more. Some of us don't have the luxury to make choices about what kind of hybrid we want; it's more like what hooptie we can afford. Some of us can't afford cars at all. And you know, for someone who preaches about the wonders of public transportation, I don't see Al on the bus very often. Now, mind you, he might have been squeezed in between the guy that was drunk and crawling with lice and the little old lady with 37 shopping bags who insists on giving me child-rearing advice, but I didn't see him. Besides, he strikes me as more of the type that takes up two bus seats and worries about people stepping on his shoes.

So, I'm doubting he took the bus to his photo shoot with Richard Branson, in which they looked like what they are, a couple of aging smug bastard wanna-be hippies that are actually richer than fuck. They offered up $25 million in prize money to whoever can come up with a contraption that can reduce carbon emissions. Now, I'm no rocket scientist, but gee, don't most contraptions (or at least the manufacturing of them) use electricity? And isn't a lot of electricity generated by burning coal? So what we would have here, besides a failure to communicate, is something that would generate more carbon emissions while supposedly cleaning up carbon emissions. Hmmm, I wonder why no one's claimed the prize yet?

Well, into the void leaps little ol' me, as usual. I have come up with a machine that reduces carbon emissions. It is even solar-powered. What it does is this: When Al Gore and Richard Branson come up to inspect it, a sensor is triggered, and it kills them. No more of Richard Branson coming up with wacky ways to put people in space, while making loads of money off it and not worrying about the polluting effects of manufacturing something completely useless, like fuel for rockets. Who the fuck needs a rocket? If you're going to take a bunch of rich idiots into space, Mr. Branson, please leave them there. No more Al Gore, jetting away to speaking appearances all over the world, to harp on about global warming and lecturing at me, who doesn't even have a car.

Listen up, you hypocritical twats; what you're looking for doesn't exist. It will never exist. What you're looking for is for someone to clean up the mess that you've not only made, but will continue to make. What you're looking for is some small expiation of guilt, so you can continue business as usual. Here's a little tip: You guys are going to have to make the biggest sacrifices of all. You're going to have to practice what you preach. Buying "carbon offsets" isn't going to cut it. Eventually the little guys are going to figure out that the papal indulgences you're selling are bullshit. It's just not as simple as you're making it out to be. I know you've got a lot of celebrities all lined up to lick your hole, Al, but you know what? Celebrities are not that bright. A lot of them haven't even finished high school. So when you go around talking about chemistry and science and biology, they're nodding politely, but they're actually thinking about their spa appointment later that day. They don't know shit from shinola as it is, so they're eager to lap up whatever snake oil you're selling, even if you're just selling yourself.

When I hear about Al Gore selling off his McMansion to live in something small and environmentally friendly, and Richard Branson putting out commercials saying "Hey guys, you don't really need to fly anywhere; why not take a vacation closer to home next year?" then maybe I'll listen to something they have to say. In the meantime, they can kiss my petunia.

The earth may very well be heating up, but in the meantime half of my town's water wells have been poisoned by companies that manufactured jet and rocket fuel, and now it's undrinkable. I live less than 7 miles from an EPA Superfund Site. Everyday, my family's lungs are the worse for wear because we live in a part of America that has one of the highest rates of fine particle air pollution, and everyday, more and more semis and freight trains come through here. What difference does it make if it's 119 degrees here in my town in the summertime, or only 110, when we can't drink the water or breathe the air? Carbon doesn't cause birth defects. Our water now does. Our land now does. Our air now does. Where is your outrage, Mr. Airline Owner? Where is your outrage, Mr. Wannabe President?

Just something for Al Gore and Richard Branson to think about, while they're cutting me my check for $25 million.

Fat Sparrow

Friday, May 11, 2007

The Diamond Ring

Once upon a time, there was a Man and a Woman.

The Man loved the Woman very much, and she loved him.

The Man and Woman planned a life together, and as they were both educated, well-off people, their families were very happy for them.

The Man and Woman got married.

Some time went by, and the Man, hoping to show the Woman just how much he loved her, gave her a beautiful diamond ring.

The Woman was overjoyed. She loved the diamond ring.

A couple of years went by, and the Man thought once again of how much he loved the Woman, and so he gave her a pair of beautiful diamond earrings to go with the diamond ring. The Woman loved these, too, and they went very well with the diamond ring.

The Woman wore the diamond ring and the earrings everywhere she could. She couldn't bear to be without them, and the Man indulged her in this. After all, everyone admired them when they were all together: The Woman, the Man, the diamond ring, and the diamond earrings.

The Woman and the Man decided to take a holiday, and they decided to bring the diamond ring and diamond earrings along with them. The place where they chose to vacation wasn't exactly the sort of place for wearing a diamond ring and diamond earrings, but once again, the Woman and Man couldn't bear to be parted from them. And after all, other people wore their jewelry there; why shouldn't they?

Once they got to their holiday destination, they found that there were some places they wanted to go in which it would be inconvenient to wear a diamond ring and diamond earrings.

They wondered what to do.

The Man said to the Woman, or perhaps the Woman said to the Man, "I think we should leave the diamond ring and diamond earrings in the hotel safe. It's said to be very secure."

"I don't know; you never can tell just how secure those things are. What about that service the hotel offers, where someone would come here and guard the diamond ring and diamond earrings while we are out?" the Woman said to the Man, or maybe the Man said to the Woman.

The Man said to the Woman, or perhaps the Woman said to the Man, "Oh no, I'm sure that would be worse; you never can tell about people these days, and how do I know what the guard would be doing while we aren't watching? You know I can't bear to let the diamond ring and diamond earrings out of my sight!"

"You may have a point there. You do hear all sorts of things nowadays. And those guards.... They're so expensive," the Woman said to the Man, or maybe the Man said to the Woman.

The Man said to the Woman, or perhaps the Woman said to the Man, "Oh dear me, yes. You know, I'm sure the diamond ring and earrings will be ever so safe here. It's really a lovely place, and I'll put them safely away in a drawer. We won't be that far away, and one of us can run back every few minutes to check on the diamond ring and the diamond earrings."

And so that is what they did. They put the diamond ring and diamond earrings in a drawer, forgetting that they had previously said they could not bear to have the diamond ring and diamond earrings out of their sight.

The Man and the Woman went out the door of their hotel room, which had a notice on it saying "DO NOT LEAVE VALUABLES IN HOTEL ROOM."

One or the other of them came back to check on the diamond ring a diamond earrings a few times, and everything was fine. The diamond ring and diamond earrings were safe in their drawer.

Each time they went in or out of their hotel room, the Man and the Woman passed the sign that said "DO NOT LEAVE VALUABLES IN HOTEL ROOM."

The Man and the Woman came back once again to check on the diamond ring and the diamond earrings, to make sure they were safe in their drawer.

The diamond ring was not there.

The Man and the Woman looked everywhere, but the diamond ring was well and truly gone.

The Man and the Woman notified the police.

Many people were sympathetic. They knew how they would feel if a diamond ring of theirs had gone missing.

Some other people were not so understanding.

These unsympathetic people could not believe that it had never occurred to the Man or the Woman that someone else may have wanted a diamond ring, and so took theirs, as it is generally agreed that diamond rings are a very valuable commodity, and not the sort of thing that one would leave in a hotel room.

These cynical people found it hard to believe that that the Woman and Man could act so irresponsibly if they had valued the diamond ring as much as they professed. Some even went so far as to put forth the opinion that maybe the Man and the Woman shouldn't have the diamond earrings, considering the care, or lack of, that they had shown with the diamond ring.

The Man and the Woman were shocked, and protested heartily, and most of their protestations began with "I didn't think...."

Truer words have never been spoken. "I didn't think __"

"I didn't think something like this could happen here. I didn't think that something like this could happen to us. I didn't think that notice on the door, the one that said "DO NOT LEAVE VALUABLES IN HOTEL ROOM" applied in our situation."

But the Man and the Woman have to do a lot of thinking, now.

Now the Man and Woman have to think about what someone has done to their beautiful diamond ring after it was stolen. They have to think about how gold can be melted down, and diamonds can be sold, and how they may one day get their diamond ring back in an unrecognizable shape or form, or only parts of it, and then the Man and Woman will have to take the word of the police that it actually is their diamond ring.

Years may go by, and the Woman may never know what has happened to her diamond ring, all because she and the Man didn't bother thinking things through.

And maybe the Man says to the Woman, "Don't worry. I can give you another diamond ring."

Fat Sparrow

Saturday, May 05, 2007


In a vague, hopeless attempt to keep you lot entertained while I am pissing (get it?) my life away, you can go and read one of my earlier posts. It's fucking brilliant, of course, but it was from back when I first started out, and was mainly blogging to myself, so you probably haven't read it.

Fat Sparrow