Way to go Change...

fuck... how about we look at the white house?

It'll take more than some damn pineapple salad

Now this is a real man.

For those of you who were either, A) Born after 1985. OR B) Terminally Not-Sweet, this specimen of absolute kickass is named Roy Fokker.  and before you say to yourself "haha, he said Fokker" it's best to understand that if you ever met him in a bar, Roy Fokker could kick your ass, out drink you, and leave with your woman.

he is that damn cool.

If you were blessed enough to know what Robotech is, then you'd know that Captain Roy Fokker was the original leader of Skull Squadron, the baddest of the bad.  The vanguard of the varitech fighters, and the first, middle and last line of defense from those damn Invid.  and you'd also know that even though Rick Hunter was the main character, everyone knew that Roy was the true hero of the show.

When he wasn't kicking alien ass in a sweet ass jet that resembles an F14 TOMCAT (with the awesome japanese ability to turn into a sweet robot with a huge cannon), Roy could be found gettin drunk, gettin laid, and getting more drunk.  he would also give the children watching the show lessons in love and life, in a way that your parents never could.  I could tell you them myself, but why do that when he can himself...

Lesson 1. Women, an exposition by Roy Fokker

Lesson 2. when the going gets tough, the tough get going

Yes folks, this is also another reason why japanese cartoons from the 80's were mad sweeter than american ones.  You didn't see Duke putting the moves on Covergirl on G.I. Joe did you? hell no.  Roy Fokker would have tagged Lady Jaye, Covergirl, and Scarlett within minutes of each other. AND he would have kicked Destro in the Nuts. Just because he could.

Alas, Roy Did not survive the Invid war.  but he goes out the only way he knows how.  Like a  fuckin gangster!  after a horrific battle with the invid, in which Skull one (his trusty jet) was badly damaged, and grievously injured himself,  Roy opts to skip going to the infirmary to spend some quality time with his woman Claudia.  While Claudia prepares dinner, and eats a little pineapple salad, Roy plays the guitar... then promptly falls over, and dies from his wounds.

No pain, no cringing, Roy's gonna spend his last few minutes of life with his lady and his guitar... I don't remember if he was drunk, but I can only hope so.  

On a serious note though, I must have been maybe 4 or 5  when I first watched this, and as far as I can remember, The death of Roy Fokker on Robotech was the first time I'd ever faced the concept of death.   "He was playing guitar! why did he fall over?, What the hell do you mean he wasn't coming back?"  heavy stuff man.  I promise you.

so for the late great Roy Fokker. a moment of silence.

I'm kind of a big deal.

okay the loser of the week made himself apparent tonight at the club.  here's how the conversation went down.

Lame: You dance right?

Me: No man, I don't know how. (my thought at the time, "I'm not your damn dancing monkey")

Lame: whatever man, I saw you.

Me: oh, that was just me messing around.

Lame: I'm not gay man, I'm a producer from LA.

Me: Rampage

Lame: I'm trying to bring you up!

Me: I'm good bro.

Lame: I'm worth millions man, you're worth nothing. 

Me: I'm happy with where I'm at.

Lame: I can make you!

Me: I'm good where I am.

Lame: I doubt it. I'm the man around here.

Me: awesome. I'm good where I'm at.

Lame: I doubt it.

Me: Good to know, have a good night brovah.

and then the guy tried to dance with some girl.  whether he succeded or not I'm not quite sure.  I stopped paying attention.   The only thing I really thought about was, if this guy was really what he said he was, he probably wouldn't drop it like he did.  he was so big on making himself seem like he was a big deal, he proved to me he was a nobody.  

sad how just a few words can reveal your true nature.

Rock it don't stop it and rock it don't stop!

beats rhymes and life yo.

Pretty Ill huh?  I thought so too.

I was going to gush about his beatboxing skills, how he uses sick transitions, and even to the point where he makes mashups (you did catch the Kanye/Daft Punk over the Eurythmics right?) but you know what?  this aim conversation says it all*.  

names have been changed, cuz I'm pretty sure my homeboy doesn't want his shit out there. 

Friend: This was the guy who was on the Redbull BC one clip we saw.

Me: yeah, he's sick though.

Friend: true that.

Me: Usually I'm not too impressed by the french because they only seem to be good at being assholes and giving up when it's wartime. but this guy's dope

Friend: haha true.

Me: Seriously, they don't do shit other than be rude, and surrender, maybe they're assholes because they don't know what it's like to win. I mean Japan doesn't either, but at least they're nice.

Friend: Yeah, we should bomb the shit out of them, and help them rebuild, so that they can become a technilogical juggernaut.

Me: No, they'd just be assholes again.  remember Japan had at least two cool things to offer the world prior to ww2, Ninjas and geishas. 

Friend: haha

Me: Seriously though, what have the french done?  They gave us oral sex... sweet, thanks, much appreciated, but still, it's not enough.

Friend: it isn't?

Me: okay... maybe it is, but barely. and this guy now too.  so oral sex and a sweet ass beatboxer.  way to go France.

Friend: VIVA LA REZISTANCE!!!

* my dumb ass closed the aim window without saving, so this is going by memory, but it's at least 80% accurate.  don't judge me.

Mohawks, Blood, and Nazi's Oh MY!

Damn that's sexy.

Okay, this fetching gentleman to the left is Anthony LePlegua... better known to you industrial rivet-heads as Combichrist.  Now, me myself, I've never heard of the guy prior to today, but my job requires that you know that they will be at the Majestic Theatre on February 5.  You may be thinking... "Bryant, I don't like industrial music, and I dont' want to go to this show!" and to which I'd say to you. "Hey, guess what? I dont' give a damn, I probably won't be at this show either."  I will also tell you, why exactly I'm up at 2 in the friggin morning blogging about a band I dont' listen to, nor do I  have any intention of seeing live.

Look at this guy.  LOOK.  he's a spooky looking guy. he has his hair styled in a fauxhawk, but he shaved the rest of his head, effectiving making it a true mohawk. (a mofauxhawk?) He is also deathly pale, making the fact that he's pulling his eyelid down look even more red, and sinister. Not to mention, the fact that said eye effect matches so perfectly with what I can only hope is not period-blood on his lips, chin and Hitleresque brown shirt. 

now, dont' let the quasi-nazi imagery of this picture fool you.  He is ready for some lovin, as evidenced by his come-hither gaze, and the two models paid to stand behind him doing their best "I'm a brunette Eva Braun, and I'm too cool for this press photo" impersonation.  cmon ladies... you'd hit it.

if I were gay, a nazi, and a vampire, I know I would.

it kinda makes you wonder if that's how he goes to buy his groceries.  if he does indeed eat regular food, and not the dead carcasses of his unfortunate ex girlfriends.  Personally, I hope so, because it's just a little disappointing to think that this guy may be that dude, in line behind you at the supermarket with a jar of peanut butter and 5 Hungryman TV Dinners.  

Now that's fucking rock n' roll son.

Watch this or the girl gets it.

So I've had MirrorMask for about 2 years now, and I never watched it until a few days ago.

Not a smart choice...  this movie rocks so hard.

The story has been done before, but visually, it's the equivalent of having sex, eating chocolate, and getting a check for a million dollars.  and while I'm being fecetious, you get the point.

so do yourself a favor. watch it, and be happy you did.  because it's sweet.  Hell, now I want to watch it again, but unfortunately I lent it out to a coworker. I am now tempted to break into her house to get it back... and make myself a cheeseburger while I'm there.  because... you know. cheeseburgers are yummy.