Our friends across the pond, Mother England, have recently sunk into national tormoil after one of Britain’s top intelligence secret agents, James Bond, registered for an account on the popular web page Twitter. Bond, who is also known as Agent 007, claims he joined the site just to, “network and stay up to date on what Ryan Seacrest was doing.” However, Bond’s own updates have begun to undercut the secrecy of some highly classified British operations around the globe and Parliament is not happy.

One of Bond’s several compromising “tweets.”

Story continues after the jump…

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Hello internet world, its me, your American Hero with another movie review. This time I’m soder and ready to rip the shizzle out of one of the worst movies of all-time. So hold onto your keyboards as I go off on this terrible movie.

So I get to the theatre a little outside San Jose to see The Knowing. I knew very little about the movie except that it was about the end of the world and one of my favorite actors, Nicolas Cage, was in it. So I was pretty amped up for this movie and ready for Nicky boi to put an end to the end of the world. So after buying my ticket at the great price of 4.50!…unheard of in San Jose…I got some popcorn and a little so-derrr pop and headed into the theatre.

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This past weekend my good friend Luke sent me a wake up call, asking if I would like to go with him to a sweet lodge. I thought to myself, “Yikes, this is going to severely interfere with my Saturday afternoon calisthenics routine down by the sound,” but then I thought “Aw heck, I’ll go anyway. After all, this sweet lodge sounds pretty sweet.” Twenty minutes and an orange later, I was in Luke’s hotrod, on my way to the sweet lodge. Little did I know, I was in for one of the sweatiest days of my life.

Why was my day sweat-drenched? It all comes down to a simple mis-communication. I thought that Luke, who has a very strong and noticeable Staten Island accent, said SWEET lodge, but in reality he had said SWEAT lodge. Though the difference here is only one letter (that letter being A) the implications are significant. What did I expect? I imagined a lovely gingerbread house, with candy cane gutters, a twizzler garden hose and a gumball compost pile out back. I pictured a nice little candy lodge, something straight out of Hansel and Gretel. Well, the experience was like Hansel and Gretel…in the sense that I felt trapped in an oven for two hours.

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I just made my first transaction on Live Nation, which is trying to merge with ticket sales overlord TicketMaster (CEO: Money grubbing Guns N’ Roses, Van Halen, Steely Dan and NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK manager Irving Azoff). Remember like a year or so ago when you would go to buy a ticket it would sometimes bring you to the old school order and if it was a pre-sale you would go to LiveNation? Fucking stupid, now they’ll be the same company. Anyway, I just bought a pair of tickets to see Protest the Hero (rawk!) in May. I have to say the Live Nation site was pretty intuitive. When I searched for the tickets I was able to easily find them and, much to my surprise, they were only sixteen bucks! That fuckin’ rules – I would have shelled out 25 if I was asked to do so. What follows is a harrowing tale of trivial amounts of money, deciet and a broken (and just fucking broke) young man.

Bag of shit.

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The Internet is a many splendored thing. If I were to try to hunt down a video of a woman doin’ it in an ET costume (link NSFW and probably not safe for 99% of the population – you’ve been warned), it would take literally hours in the real world. If I wanted to know the complete history of hampsterdance.com I would probably have to track down the original owners/operators of the site. If, say, I wanted to hear the ramblings of two boring, under-produced and over-hyped metal nerds, I would actually have to sit around at my nearest Gibson dealer – a fate worse than castration. And, of course if I wanted to see Val Kilmer in 2008, I would have had to actually find him way back then. Luckily for me, none of those scenarios ever has to happen thanks to the Internet.

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As many of you have read in my previous posts, I have, in the past, been involved with Barbadian pop singer Rihanna. Sadly, our relationship was short lived- I wanted to take things slow and Rihanna, still young and frisky, was overly eager and moving too quickly for my taste. While we still talked with some regularity, we began to drift apart. Eventually, Rihanna met her new beau, Chris Brown. I was happy for her of course, and was glad she had finally found someone more compatible. I hadn’t really given the whole thing a second thought until this week when I found out Mr. Brown had criminally assaulted Ms. Fenty (the last name isn’t as attractive) leaving her bruised, cut and choked unconscious. Needless to say I was up in arms over the entire thing and took it as a call to action. So, I talked to Rihanna on AIM three days after hearing about it. Conversation below (Rihanna’s screen name is EllaEllaElla88 and mine is MintPsyzique71).

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My last installment of “What Not To Listen To: Static X” was featured on the old site and was one of the few things that didn’t make it over to the new one when we switched last August. So, I’ll be posting that as soon as I find the original document.

What Not To Listen To is my opportunity to pick a horrible, obviously hated band and just tear them to shreds for both musical and non-musical reasons. Wayne Static and Static X had it coming from day one and so has Papa Roach. I understand the easiness of tearing down each of these bands, but I’m gonna do it anyway.

This is not photoshopped.

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