Happy Year of the Dog!! Woof!

         What is the point of life, this world, this whole mess of love and hurt and hope if not to provide a bright, gleaming medium for the joy of self betterment? Hence, New Year’s resolutions. I hate the materialistic, predicate obsessed Western New Year, so I choose to make my resolutions on the real New Year, that of our Chinese brothers and sisters. Here’s my list for this, the Year of the Dog:

Chinese New Year’s Resolutions

1. Learn how to make a decent potato salad.
2. Be nicer to people.*
3. Bathe.








* except for really mean people, hit-and-run-drivers, those ice-queens that work at the GAP on Sundays, Tatum O’Neil, anyone with a bleached anus, anyone with bleached anything, Sean Hannity (if he doesn’t already fall into the six previous categories), Jehovah’s Witnesses, anyone that even looks like Sean Hannity, Hitler, whoever Loretta Lynn doesn’t have to be nicer to, The Strokes, anyone in PETA, 7 out of 13 of the Texas UPN affiliates, the cast of Charmed, Skip Reid, the ‘good’ people of Massachussettes, whoever broke the Golden Tee machine in Fletchers’s Bar on 11th Avenue, hate crime committers, anyone who has ever or will ever be on the E! Channel, that jerk that works security at the anonymous hobo cemetery and thinks that that makes him, like, really important or something, Sean Hannity, all of George Forman’s children, any and all Comptrollers, gorillas that know sign language, deaf people that act like gorillas, Jane Goodall, my one coworker that doesn’t like Tom Waits, young Elvis, my mentally retarded mailwoman, people who throw around the term ‘post-structuralist’ when I’m trying to talk about beer, my AA sponsor, cats, meter readers, rock lobsters, and people who say ‘guesstimate’.

Invitation to the Blues

         Well it was only a matter of time. We here at Ok Times have gotten our first piece of hate-mail. Which, even considering my own birth, has got to be one of the most wonderfulest things to ever happen to me. It came from some weird Hotmail account, and all attempts to reply have come back to the sender, but whoever wrote it, I love them.


Dear Shitholes,

         I hate you. And I should, because you’re blog is the worst thing I have ever read over. Oktimes is to blogs what shit is to dirty toilets. You think you are funny! But that is whats funny! Because you are not. Cant you even write on it very often? No. And when you do its like you pretend to be someone else who also isn’t funny. You are douche. Does your parents know you write on? Because you are like children who think that bathrooms are funny. Go to the bathroom and laugh then children! You should not be putting anything on the web because it is boring. And I dont mean that the internet is boring. I mean you! When I read the page I had to call my wife to see how terrible everything you are! You should get OFFline!

Wham! Take That, Oppressor!

         

The Magic Window

          Remember Jim Morrison and the Beaver? No? Just scroll down. Still don't see it? You're stupid. It's right there. Down a bit. There, see it? What? What the hell is wrong with you? It's RIGHT THERE!

Oh, nevermind. Anyways, here's some more fun with Jess. First, the second edition of Woodland Creatures Meeting Historical Figures of Note.



Last night I told Jess that I would just loooove a picture of a steam powered space rocket, then Jess said, "How about a fire-penguin instead?" I said that gee, I guess that wouldn't entirely suck, but what I really want is a steam powered space rocket and not a fire-penguin as she then suggested for the second time. Ergo. . .



I could see that my friend Jess was in a creative up-for-anything mood so I commisioned a piece involving a turtle, on his hind legs, wearing a suit, who is both startled and worried by presently witnessing an off-screen car accident and the surrounding cloud of gnats about which he can do nothing, for his suit is ill fit. Also there is a pile of steaks.



Now you can visit Jess's MySpace page and tell her just how much of your colon she just rocked right out of your body.

Thank You, Jesus.

         





Be somebody.

One Lucky Beaver

          Whenever I have a few moments, I like to imagine woodland creatures meeting cultural and historical figures of note. I told the great, intrepid Jess this and she drew one for me, in MS Paint no less. Exhibit I: A Beaver Meets Jim Morrison

Movie Reviews, Schmovie Schmeviews

         While Dana is engaged in her training for our imminent rumble and Andy fights the good fight against his intruding legumes, we here at Ok Times thought you could use a little heads up for the holiday movie season, the most consistently disappointing time of the year not counting the televised hockey season. Hence, a new bit: Ok Times presents: Movie Reviews, Schmovie Schmeviews: Episode I: Drastic Colon Overuse:

Aeon Flux

I’ve seen pretty girls in leather suck before, but never like this.

Syriana

Ever wish you could see an anonymous six-year old and George Clooney’s fingernails finally get their just desserts? Wish granted In this groundbreaking film from Steven Soderbergh’s precocious left testicle, George Clooney and Matt Damon fight thousands of Arabs and one black guy to an oily death, high above the futuristic oil fields of Syriana, a futuristic nation state where the remaining 1% of Earth’s population fight for survival in the future. Just who is that black guy and what is he doing for whom? Twenty dollars if you can figure it out.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

What does Disney have against my childhood? Honestly, it never did anything to Disney, except that Herbie the Love Bug incident in fourth grade, but I thought we were even after Johnny Depp and Danny Elfman shat down the collective throats of the world with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Apparently we weren’t. No, Disney had one more knife to firmly plant in the pale, fleshy back of yesteryear. Did you know that if you hang out with Liam Neeson at a Renaissance Faire for two hours you become the greatest swordsman in the world? Did you also know that if you sit in a theater for two hours watching this movie you’ll hate Santa Claus and little children? Et tu, the estate of C.S. Lewis, et tu?

Brokeback Mountain

I’ve seen cowboys suck before* but never like this.







* The Cowboy Way, City Slickers II, and Young Guns 4: These Guns is Young