Month July 2012

What Exactly Do You Want, Anyway?

Turner L. Watson 6 Comments

Hey, gang!  You may not know it, but this page is officially over a year old now.  Yep.  And when you reach those kind of milestones, you sort of take inventory of what you’ve got and what you’ve wrought (RHYME!!  YEAH!!) So I recently had me an idea.  I was going to split this blog up and do two separate pages.  One would be my usual sci-fi, comic book, geektastic blog and the other would be the one where I tackled more serious subjects like war and quantum physics.  Both would be rich in that good ol’ Turner Watson humor and irony (and I mean RICH!!) and have plenty of misspellings and run-on sentences.  Seriously, it’s kind of a fun little game to play when I publish a new post:  Spot The Bad Stuff!  Sigh.  I know, I know.I thought better of it.  The splitting-up idea.  The thing is, this little craptastic bullhorn of mine is different things to different people, and if I can turn the guy who’s here to read about Dazzler’s first appearance in X-Men on to some serious old-school pomade and style tips, then I’ve done my job! 

I have totally just confused the rockabilly set.

So after deciding to scrap the break-up, I looked at my search stats again.  This is one of my favorite quick-and-dirty blog topics, as some of you already know.  It’s still fun and often mind-boggling to see the search terms that have led people here.  Search engines have been responsible for 17,308 visits to my site. Since it’s kind of a one-year anniversary special, here are some of the all-time search results which were responsible for people clicking on this page.  Number one surprised me a bit…

Raise your hand if you want four more years of Obama!
D’OH!!

Grammar Nazi.  This search is number one with a staggering 1,238 searches.  This does not include the variants thereof, like the ironic “grammer nazi” with 54 searches or “grammarnazi” with 42.  Wow.  I did ONE BLOG on that subject, but obviously it was something on everyone’s mind this year.  Okay then. What could possibly be Number Two on the search list?

Oh, hey! Wouldja look at that!

Amish. The irony, of course, is that the Amish are not allowed to use the internet.  HA!  JOKE’S ON YOU, BEARDY-STRAW-HAT-BOY!! Also, there were eight searches for “amišai” that led to my page.  Apparently, that’s a Lithuanian word for “Amish.”  True story.  Lithuanian people are searching for first-hand accounts of the mysterious Amišai and finding their way here.  And to them I would say “Dėkojame, Lietuvos žmonių!”

This is actually getting kinda fun.

Carrot Top and fake tans account for a good chunk of search-term visits, but there’s ONE particular post that has had enough disparate searches combined that it ends solidly in third place. Ladies and gentlemen, the Big Bang Theory.  For the uninitiated, I’m not referring to the actual theory that attempts to explain the first moments of our universe, but rather the mediocre television show that attempts to describe (and bring about) the end of geek culture.  There has been SOOOOO much hate, praise and discussion of this stinking turd of sitcomdom on sites like Reddit that I suppose it was only natural that some of those curious parties would find their way to my fetid little swamp of cyberdom.  In fact, just on this post alone, there have been 7,364 pageviews.  This is not including the people that came in through the “front door” and then clicked on that blog.  I’d post the numbers but am already patting myself heartily on the back, so more ego-stroking isn’t necessary anyway.  But, wow…talk about hitting a nerve!  That’s why I do this shit, you know.  I’d really suggest EVERYONE get their own blog and say whatever you want.  It’s like Facebook but with fewer things that you can share or “like” if you hate breast cancer or Chick-Fil-A.

Okay, maybe I’m getting a little carried away…

Finally, I have to give you mad props.  Yes, you.  You know who you are.  You’ve shared this blog from your Facebook a grand total of 10,838 times.  Wow. Reddit is responsible for 5,492 referrals, and your Twitter shares put 676 butts in the seats, so to speak.  StumbleUpon, WordPress itself, hell even the website of my of employers, 98.9 the Bear helped out.  Outstanding and wonderful.  Thanks again for those wonderful numbers, but thanks even more for reading.  Expect my next post to be about “Fake-Tanned Nickelback Guest-starring On the Amish Bang Theory.”  Can’t miss.

Mr. Watson

Turner L. Watson 10 Comments

So I’ve noticed something, and don’t know whether it should concern me or if I’m just being an old stick-in-the-mud.  Help me out here, people.  I’ve seen this little meme or photo macro or whatever you want to call it floating around lately, and the basic gist is “I fear for a world run by kids that received trophies just for participating and have never been spanked.”  True enough.  Good point, nameless internet person. Wisdom.  But then I also think that our parents said essentially the same thing about us, and for God’s sake, how many of our moms and dads got kicked out of the house during the 60’s and 70’s for smoking pot, listening to “that rock-n-roll trash” or smoking (GASP!) weed?!?  No, I think the future will be just fine.  It’s evolution.  It’s the job of the younger generation to question the older, and also hold it responsible for its actions, its wars, its recessions, etc.  Ain’t always gonna see eye-to-eye.  It’s natural.  It’s good.  It’s right.

“No, dad. I said FUCK SOCKS!! Go ahead and kick me out. YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT, MAN!”

However…

Something that I’ve picked up on recently makes me wonder if there isn’t a seismic shift underway in our society.  I’m not saying it’s good or bad: I’m just saying the world is going to be very different in a generation, and it has nothing to do with technological advances or the divorce rate or gay marriage. No, it’s the overall familiarity that has permeated everything.  EVERYTHING.  It’s a casual society now.  When the President of the United States of America shows up in a suit with NO TIE and possibly smoking a cigarette, you know something’s up.  Sports bars are on every corner, and yet the martini bar is an endangered species.  (True, shows like Mad Men have brought them back from the brink a little bit, but it’s a losing game.)  And while familiarity is all well and good, it seems like there’s a wholesale lack of respect getting ready to run away and make things…messy.  As an example, I have never once been called “Mister Watson” by any of my kids’ friends.  Not once.  I have been called “Mister Turner” by some, and I guess that’s better than nothing.  And I’ve seen this in other kids, not just the ones my boys run with.  The ONLY people that get the old-school treatment are schoolteachers, and even that is fading.  My kids have referred to their pre-school teachers in the past as “Miss Kay, Miss Jill” et. al.  I seriously don’t remember some of the kids’ teachers last names because, well…I never heard them.

Pictured: Miss Kim gets tired of dicking around and does this shit herself.

When I was a kid, it was always “Mrs. Gillenwater” or “Mr. Crabtree.”  I never even knew Mr. Crabtree’s first name.  He was this older, towering, greying person who called my friend Chris in for dinner.  I didn’t NEED to be on a first-name basis with him, and frankly preferred it that way.  It would never have occurred to me to show up at the Crabtree home, knock on the door, and when the father answered say “Hey, Doug!  Is Chris home?”  That’s some Eddie Haskell shit, and it just…we just didn’t do that.

Yo, Ward! You gonna pass that dutch?

Maybe I’m just too old-fashioned, but it seems like putting the kids on a  first-name basis with the adults makes them feel a bit, um…entitled.  And don’t get me started on how kids today wouldn’t even think about using “Yes, sir” or “No, ma’am.”  It’s just language that’s fading from our culture.  What does it mean for the future?  I don’t know.  It’s happening in the workplace right now.  We refer to our General Manager at work as “Jim.”  Heck, the old C.O.O. was simply “Tony.”  In the old days the most powerful man in the company would’ve been “Mr. Richards.”  Is this better or worse?  Seriously, I don’t know.  I tend to be very old-fashioned in most respects (many of you have seen how I dress from time-to-time) but maybe this is the way the Little Guy feels like he’s on the same level with the Big Guy, even if he isn’t.  Is that so bad?  I’m a Little Guy, so I can’t really say.

I guess time will tell.  I’d love to hear your thoughts.  Comment below, sir or ma’am!

Ooo, That Smell…

Turner L. Watson 7 Comments

Mmmmm!  Cookies!

There aren’t really any cookies, mind you.  It was a trick.  A ruse.  I wanted you to start imagining fresh-baked cookies.  Sugar cookies, chocolate chip…those peanut butter ones that mom used to kind of press down on with a fork to make the crisscross hashmarks…doesn’t matter.  Because odds are you did think of cookies and there’s a chance that you thought of specific cookies.  That’s because the sense of smell is one powerful motherfucker and we totally take it for granted.  Also, smart people claim that it’s the sense most keenly tied to memory.  That girl you fell for that one crazy spring break?  You know her smell.  And it’s not just perfume and hair conditioning cream and fabric softener…it’s the sum of all of that and more.  It works the other way, too…that bitch from accounting that thought Obsession was the greatest fragrance EVAH?!?!  ERMAHGERD!!  You know, the one who you could literally smell as she got out of her car in the goddam parking lot?!  Yeah.  Now, no matter who’s wearing that particular perfume, you somehow know upon meeting them that you hate them a little bit.

Unless they look like this. I mean, c’mon…it’s just horrible, eye-burning, nostril-scorching perfume, right?

It works for things, too.  Things like tequila. You have a bottle of it, puke your guts out, and then the next time you’re out someone offers you a shot and you respond with (all together now!) “Dude, no.  I can’t even SMELL that stuff without puking.”    See, it’s science!  Your body has conditioned itself to avoid certain harmful substances, and tequila is certainly a harmful substance.  You’ll smell it before you taste it or even see it, because your sniffer works pretty damn good despite being less important now than it was six million years ago.  Good job, nostrils!

So here, then, are some of my FAVORITE smells.  Good ones.  Happy ones.  Scents that take me immediately to a happy place.  Like the beach, for example…

Surf Wax

Specifically, Sticky Bumps original surf wax.  Sure, Sex Wax is the one everyone talks about because the 80’s.  But this is the stuff, along with the occasional Mrs. Palmer’s, that made it onto my deck all the time, especially on the longboard.  The way it bumped up (hence the name) without having to go over it again and again was, well…magic.  But the SMELL!!  Imagine a tropical drink that featured coconut, vanilla, and blueberries.  Imagine your truck being filled with that awesomeness on the way to the beach, and then on you after laying on it and rubbing against it all day.  Wow, I just turned myself on a little bit.  Awesome.  I had some friends send me a few bars of this stuff a year or so ago even though I am currently land-locked with NO chance of surf.  But when I want to take a break and hit the beach, I take a good long pull off o’ one of these babies and I’m instantly there, even if only for a moment. 

Seriously, these stickers and that ‘Oakley Thermonuclear Protection’ shit…everywhere. The 80’s kinda sucked.

On the other end of the spectrum…

Ice Rink

This is one of those “greater than the sum of its parts” deals.  Yes, the actual ice itself is amazing.  Remember Doug Dorsey smelling the ice in The Cutting Edge?  That shit is legit, yo.  But it’s more than that for me.  The mouldy foam flooring, the hockey pucks…a new roll of hockey tape…the slightly sickening burning smell of someone heating up their stick blade along with the singed smell of the glue as it pops free…beer…all of it.  Any hockey player knows how comforting it is to get to a new rink in a new town and instantly know you’re at peace as soon as you walk in.  It’s a little like heaven.

These, however, smell HORRIBLE.

Patchouli (Yes, Patchouli) and Leather

I know.  Trust me, I know.  Hippies have ruined this for sooooo many people.  That’s because hippies don’t know that you’re only supposed to put a tiny pinpoint of this stuff on each wrist then rub them together.  That’s it.  That’s plenty. Those dirty bastards ladle it on by the gallon.  When so applied, it smells much like I imagine the Devil’s asshole must.  Horrible.  However, when I was a lad, it was the general scent of the counter-culture.  You’d smell it at punk shows, at Lollapalooza, the cool alternative bookstore (COUGH! The Abyss COUGH!) and so on.  The cool thing is, we all wore the standard Ramones-issue black leather motorcycle jacket.  Now, leather smells really good, especially new black leather.  Add just a hint of that hippie-juice and marinate for a few shows and smell your jackets wrist-holes.  Holy Mary, but that shit’s good.  It also happens to be the perfect example of how two different cultures can compliment each other in the right proportions.  But seriously, fuck you, hippies.

I seriously had to scour Google images to find a stock photo of a hippie and a punk together. Now to crop out the confused sick boy…

Murray’s Pomade

Let’s just address the elephant in the room right now.  This smells like black folks.  It does.  I’ve always loved this baby-powder-meets-honey-and-vanilla scent, but until I got older and started actually using it, I was just always envious of black folks and how good most of them smelled.  (Like any of us need to be any MORE envious of the fact that our Nubian brothers and sisters will ALWAYS be cooler than white folks, Iggy Pop and Henry Rollins excluded.)  But man, I don’t care if I’m using this stuff on short hair to mess it up (like white folks do) or part or pomp it up (like white folks used to do) I love the smell.  No lie, I’ll sometimes open the orange tin (a lifetime supply!) and get a big whiff of it to carry me through the day.  There are other great-smelling hair care products…Dax Wave-n-Groom smells a bit like Murray’s, and if you add a topcoat of Tres Flores Brilliantine, you get a sublime mish-mash of powdery, waxy, wonderful-smelling awesomeness.  Good God, I want to eat my own hair now.  It’s that fucking good.  I’m waiting on a response from Jan Hella over at The Rebel Rouser to hear what his favorite pomade scent is.  If Murray’s doesn’t finish in the top-three, I’ll be sorely disappointed.

Ladies and gentlemen, something most of us will never see: the bottom of a tin of Murray’s. It’s…it’s beautiful…

Quickly, Quickly…

Turner L. Watson 15 Comments

Holy crap…how long has it been? Last few weeks have been cray-cray!  (I do so love that expression.  By my next blog it’ll be so over I’ll wish for “Waaazzzzzuuuup!” to make a return.  Or perhaps “Yeah, baby!”)

So lets just catch up and I’ll lay some knowledge on you.  For example, later this month will be the “official” one-year anniversary of this place being open for business.  I don’t really think we got going until August, but since my first post here was a re-blog of one of my Facebook notes…yeah.  (Speaking of Facebook, how ’bout when some of us thought Google+ was gonna run roughshod over Zuckerberg?  Also, what the fuck is “roughshod”?)  But the point is, thanks for reading (and following and sharing!) because as I sit here and review stats I’ve had close to 43,000 views since then.  Sure, a good 1/3 of those are from people reading my Big Bang Theory rant (actually, only 7,148 views on that one, but still…)

But enough about me!  My delusions of grandeur are well-documented. It’s time to see what draws some of you miscreants to this sordid chunk of the interwebs. Here are todays’ top search criteria, or rather the searches that led folks here…

 

grammar nazi

paul watson is a douchebag

selina kyle porn

grammarnazi

shakespeare in love kiss

dinosaur meme workout

carrot top before and after

hulk vs the incredible hulk movie

i fucking love cocaine

 

Who exactly is Paul Watson?  I mean, we might be related!  (Actually, I think it’s in reference to the Canadian environmental activist who fights against things like shark finning, which some of you know I absolutely detest.  If he’s a douchebag for trying to stop a ship from engaging in that horrible practice, then the Canadian connotation of “douchebag” must really mean “epic hero with balls of solid vibranium.”)

Technically, it’s “Free Captain Watson with purchase of regular drink” but it’s a nice gesture.

 

Also, what exactly would happen if the Hulk actually fought the movie “The Incredible Hulk?”  I mean, on a metaphysical level it would be interesting.  Like, if he stood outside the theater protesting with a big sign that read “HULK THINK TOO MUCH PATHOS!!  GRRAAAAAAGHHH!!  STILL BETTER THAN ANG LEE MOVIE!! HULK NOT PAY FOURTEEN DOLLARS FOR LARGE POPCORN COMBO!!” I would show up and cheer him on.  If, however, he literally fought the cast, crew, writer, director, producer, and food service people…whoa, that could get ugly.  I love Edward Norton, but pound-for-pound I’m going with the Other Guy.

” I will not be bullied by some dissatisfied fanbo–GAAAHHHH!!!!”

 

And I believe that P-90X is on the way out.  So is that “Insanity” thing.  Yep.  They’re the new Tae-Bo and soon health-conscience men and women will be engaging in the new hotness:  The Dinosaur Meme Workout.  It’s great, only takes fifteen minutes of Reddit a day, and leaves you with a lean, sexy core! Why, even Carrot Top is using it!  remember when he was a skinny redheaded Wendy’s rip-off?  Well, feast your eyes!

Wait, no! I meant AVERT your eyes! Avert! Man, I’m so sorry, guys.

Thanks for reading, though.  Writing feels good.  Having someone read it is better.