I will bring order to my new empire...

That's right, I've joined the enemy. With the absurd price tag, ridiculous short sheeting, and murderous, jealous rage that the Playstation 3 has caused, I have decided to journey down the dark path. Is X-Box 360 stronger? No. Easier, more seductive, better on-line access. And I don't have to hire a body guard to get one.

So I've picked up Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter and Fable (yes, I bought an X-Box 360 and purchased an original X-Box game for it; and guess what, fuck-stick, it's still a cool game) and I have to tell you; compared to my 2nd gen PS2, this thing is HEAVY, it's LOUD, and it connected to my internet connection in a way that NEITHER PS2 ever could.

Once I pick up a copy of Gears of War, I look forward to bitch slapping my friend Bill on-line...

The Mighty Avengers In... If This Be Sodomy!

Are you FUCKING kidding me?!?

Dateline: December 27, 2006

Long Island - Thomas Beck (my dear brother and partner in crime) is involved in a car accident when a semi driver decides he simply has to get off the highway at the exit he had just passed, jerking the wheel to the right and slamming into my brother's car, sending it on a whirlwind tour of the grass shoulder. My brother's car came to a rest upside down back on the very highway he was attempting to leave, at which point he crawled out a broken window and made his way to the side of the road. He was immobilized by meidcal workers at the scene and taken to an area hospital. He has stitches, abraisons, contusions, aches, and a very grateful family.

Dateline: December 30, 2006

Long Island - Thomas Beck (my dear brother and partner in crime) is in my passenger seat as we prepare to leave WalMart in Riverhead. We sit, first in line at the light, waiting for it to change. As the Westbound turn lane signal goes red, a truck tries to squeeze through, at which point it is struck by an east bound car. The back of the truck gets spun around into the front of my poor, dear Gretchen. Airbags deploy, and my brother emerges from his second accident in 78 hours. This time, it is I who was immobilized by emergency responders. A few hours later, I leave the hospital with a bruised sternum, a sore back, aches, and a very grateful family.

Alright, here it is, to paraphrase Marge Simpson:

"And God, if you expect me to make those lemon squares for the church bake sale, you'd better stop killing our vehicles."

What the fuck is going on here? How is it that our family is involved in two vehicular mishaps in less than four days? What are the odds?

I'll post again when the Percocet wears off, if I don't immediately need to take another.

Resolution Revisitation

Another year is at it's end, and it was considered, in the end totals, a bad one. My father passed away, I quit my job, my blog ate itself, I came down with some obscure dog-disease which continues to plague my flesh, and my brother was forced to engage in automotive acrobatics by some truck-driver shit-head that realized he was missing his exit (my brother is okay, thank Ashley.)

Let's review my New Year's Resolutions from last year (with the results following):

(from December 31, 2005)

I, Kenn Beck, resolve the following:

1. I will not kill anyone unless it is absolutely necessary, or if said murder has tremendous comedic potential.

Success. This was a tough one.

2. I will break my four year self-imposed social exile and actually go out on a date. With who remains to be seen.

Failure. No time, no patience, no woman in her right mind would do it.

3. I will stop bitching about the fact that my computer is woefully behind the technology curve to everyone and anyone who will listen and do something about it.

Success! New iMac with a 500 GB hard drive, courtesy of my inheritance.

4. I will allow myself to not feel responsible for the fact that my father lives alone in a Unabomber style cabin in the middle of the Catskills and drinks himself into oblivion every day because I don’t come to visit him more often.

Qualified failure. I was doing okay with this one until he passed away in October, and since then it has affected me pretty badly.

5. I will submit at least one of my short stories to a literary magazine for publication.

Failure. There ARE no more fiction magazines that accept open submissions, and the one piece I managed to finish met with critical panning by my nearest and dearest, which I asked for 100%, but none the less doused my spirit.

6. I will not digitally colorize and contemporize Casablanca.

Success. I instead re-mastered Citizen Kane with new footage, like the infamous meeting with Jabba the Hutt.

7. I will travel to a U.S. city and state that I have never been to before.

Failure. I've BEEN to every state on the eastern seaboard besides Maine, and who wants to go there? This one WILL fall in 2007, however.

8. I will not bring chloroform on the aforementioned date.

Inapplicable. PUSH.

9. I will not go out of my way to drown any ferrets in such a manner that can be traced back to me.

Success. It was not out of my way.

10. I will stop going all in with two pair unless they are face cards.

Failure. My brother bought me poker chips and cards for Christmas, and we've been playing for the past few nights, and sometimes I just can't resist.

11. I will not devour the life energy of this planet and render it a useless, barren husk.

Success. I stopped with New jersey.

12. I will paint at least one painting.

Qualified failure. I did manage to paint a chair for my friend's daughter, but no paintings.

13. I will write at least one poem.

Horrific failure. I should have been able to knock that bitch right out.

Wait, that's a haiku, isn't it? Judges? DING! Success!

14. I will sing Karaoke.

Failure, and in that failure, success for everyone else.

15. I will not testify in front of a grand jury that I have never taken steroids and then get caught testing positive.

Success. I only tested positive for horse tranquilizers.

16. I will be open and honest and admit my feelings to that certain mystery someone in my life.

Failure. She's gone, moved away.

17. I will do at least one nice thing for someone I don’t get along with. (Which could be any of you bastards…)

Success. I won't tell you who, but the year was REPLETE with forgiveness and nice deeds.

18. I will deflect an asteroid using only my vast mental powers, preventing an alien civilization from being exterminated.

Success. What? Go ahead, PROVE I didn't do it!

19. I will not travel backward through time in order to try and alter history to my benefit.

Failure. Sorry, I originally intended to just go back and prevent Millennium from being filmed, but ended up curing my horrific leprosy (which is, ironically, how I contracted the Parvo instead).

20. I will complete a 16 x 16 Sudoku puzzle, and will create a MEGA 25×25 Sudoku puzzle.

Succure. You figure it out.

21. I will write something that makes someone cry (and in a good way, even).

Success. Dry eyes were few and far between during my father's eulogy.

22. I will not commandeer any vehicles with my self-imposed authority.

Success, but only because my father SAID I could use his truck while he was in the hospital.

23. I will not hire a male prostitute and send him to my friend’s office in an attempt to cast doubt on his sexuality. (Transsexuals aren’t technically male, are they? (I’ve gotta leave myself SOME outs.))

Failure. Sorry, Bill. Girardo, your money's on the dresser...

24. I will tell the people that are important in my life just that.

Success, in abundance.

25. I will try to hit 25 Homeruns.

Success. Between two leagues, I hit it and passed it.

26. I will try one food that I have never tried before.

Success. And for the life of me, I can't think of what it was...

27. I will crush my enemies, see them driven before me, and hear the lamentation of the women!

Failure. The women failed to lament my replacing their weak, puny males!

28. I will donate to a charitable cause.

Success. I sent cards to Marines in Iraq while shopping at Best Buy, gave change to the Salvation Army, and taught my four year old nephew how to pan handle in Penn Station.

29. I will find a cure for the disease I created in my home-lab last month (that transient I have locked in the basement has his fingers crossed on that one too).

Success... but too late to help Mr. Panicky (the name I ended up giving the transient).


30. I will not have my website investigated by the CIA, FBI, or secret service for listing the words “Bomb,” “Terrorist,” “Assassinate,” “President,” or “Anthrax.” (Hmm. Self defeating prophecy?)

My lawyers have advised me to answer "success."

31. I will keep this blog going, breaking the cycle of laziness that always befalls my attempts at journaling.
Well, let’s see how that goes. I give myself until February 14th before I’ve broken at least ten of them. I have already broken four of them while I was writing this (I killed the male prostitute because it was too funny to pass up on, and traveled back in time to prevent it when I realized I could actually go to jail for it.)

Gasping, strangled, wriggling, crawling success. Despite what iBlogs did to my creative material, one year later, I am still blogging for the fate of the free-world.

18 Successes, 11 Failures, 1 Push, 1 Mixed Result.

We'll see an updated list for 2007 tomorrow.

Will It Blend? - The Movie

It's hypnotic...

Listen to the way this guy sounds when he offers the end product... he's smashed, I swear it, and why not? His job is throwing things in a blender...