Shamelss Plug

I'm only four posts in, and already I've stopped with regular updates. But this time I have a good reason. Some friends and I have been working on a website and it launches today. Check out colaspot.com, and tell your friends they're not cool unless they check it out, too. I'll try to be back with a regular update soon. Now please go visit the site!

I Hate Celebrities

For today’s blog entry, I originally planned a provocative and thought-provoking essay about the war against bio-terrorism and how the future of warfare is constantly changing military tactics and government policies. Then I remembered all of the exciting celebrity news that’s changing the world around us, so I scrapped my original draft. Folks, I keep track of celebrity happenings pretty well, but I know I can’t compete with the flashy style of Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, The Insider, and Extra. But dang it, I’m gonna try.

For starters, here’s a shot of Mary Hart in a shirt that’s completely inappropriate for a woman her age.

Now, the story everybody’s talking about: (Note: celebrity news stories are required by law to start with this disclaimer) the breakup of Paris and Paris. That’s right, the nation is reeling over the breakup of Paris Hilton and Paris Latsis, the Greek shipping heir who became famous for not only getting engaged to the “Simple Life” starlet, but also for making countless news outlets write the phrase “Greek shipping heir” for the first time. Many are wondering what Paris Hilton will do with the 24 carat, $5 million dollar engagement ring. My sources tell me that no matter what Hilton decides, it won’t affect our lives whatsoever, and you deserve to be beaten if wondering what she'll do has crossed your mind even once. Despite the breakup, Hilton is doing okay. In fact, rumors are already circulating she’s dating 20-year-old Greek millionaire Stavros Niarchos. Also, tabloids are reporting that Hilton has been spotted with a young doctor. However, it was later confirmed the young doctor was actually representing the Centers for Disease Control, continuing their weekly plea for Hilton to donate a pair of her panties so they can have a one-stop source for every disease ever encountered by mankind.

New details have come to light about Demi Moore’s last-minute marriage to "That 70’s Show" hunk, Ashton Kutcher. Reports are indicating Moore’s ex-husband, Bruce Willis, attended the wedding and even gave a heartwarming speech congratulating the couple. In a related story, upon hearing the news of the wedding, every single news outlet on the face of the planet wrote a headline that was something along the lines of “Demi and Ashton Wedding: Real or Punk’d?” Are headline writers even trying anymore?

Oscar-winner Nicholas Cage and second wife Alice Kim recently celebrated the birth of their baby boy, who Cage chose to name after Superman, his favorite superhero. You’re probably thinking Clark, right? Nope, not by a long shot. The couple named their son Kal-El, Superman’s Kryptonian birth name. This makes the baby’s full name Kal-El Coppola Cage. The couple is happy to have the healthy baby boy, who is healthy in the sense that he is not yet severely emotionally damaged for being named after a fictional character’s alien birthname. As you read this, child services are probably on their way to the Cage estate. While Cage feels pretty fan-boyish right now for his baby name, he can’t top my love for Superman. My firstborn’s name will be Jor-El Mxyzptlk Bizarro Doomsday Luthor Gregory.

Now for an Atomic Soap Box Exclusive! I recently got a chance to interview Tom Cruise, one of the world’s biggest movie stars, on the set of his upcoming movie, which is currently titled "Mission: Impossible 3: Hopefully Better Than Mission: Impossible 2." Here’s my interview:

Atomic Soap Box: Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk to me.
Tom Cruise: No problem, I’m a big fan of your site.
ASB: How nice! First off, I have to know: how awesome is M:I3 going to be? I’m so excited about this film! I might have to take some Valium to calm myself!
TC: Look, that’s a really irresponsible thing to say. You haven’t studied psychiatry, but I have. All this medicine they’re prescribing to people is completely unnecessary. For instance, look at Brooke Shields. I read where she suffered from postpartum depression and even though I know nothing about Mrs. Shields, her medical history, her condition, pregnancy, being a woman, or heterosexual relationships that are not forced publicity stunts, I feel she is sending a horrible message to others.
ASB: Well, I’m sorry. I wasn’t being serious about taking Valium. I was just joking about the fact that I’m so excited-
TC: I’ve studied this stuff. I am a SCIENTOLOGIST. (Editor’s Note: Cruise made me type this all-caps due to its importance, exclusivity, and sign of his good character. He also said it makes him better than you.) These doctors should be prosecuted for diagnosing these fake diseases and prescribing these corrupting medicines. Like just the other day, some fool doctor told me he thought I was a bipolar schizophrenic. I punched him in the face and proceeded to look for the hidden Nazi bomb that I broke into his office to find.
ASB: Fascinating. How are wedding plans going? Is Katie excited?

This is all I got to transcribe from the interview, as Cruise began jumping up and down excitedly, overturning his chair and smashing my tape recorder in the process. After I finally caught up with Cruise two hours later as he was running full-speed up the interstate screaming about his love, I thanked him for taking the time to talk with me.

I hope you enjoyed my exciting celebrity news roundup. Don’t forget to read my next installment! You won't want to miss my exclusive interview with Kate Moss where I asked her if she prefers Pepsi or Coke. Until then, remember to keep reaching for the stars!

Dreaming...It's Easier Than Doing

Bryan has been urging me to find a job that I enjoy, as have many other blogs out there. He believes my lack of employment could be a sign that maybe this is my shot to pursue a dream. He’s been doing some similar thinking lately. You see, Bryan, like a lot of you, hates his job. Maybe he’s right. Maybe all this down time would be the perfect chance for me to buy a ticket for a rocket trip to the stars. Or maybe I should just pursue my dreams. Let’s discuss.

Dream Job # 1: Develop my own animated sitcom
Explanation: Anyone who knows me knows two things: 1.) I spent four years of my life attempting to teach a cat how to eat with a spoon and fork, a project that failed miserably and 2.) I love adult cartoons like “The Simpsons” and “Family Guy.” I also love humor writing, and I find script writing to be insanely fun. Put the two together and it’s an obvious fit.
What I need to realistically obtain this goal: More knowledge on animation, someone in Hollywood to read and like a script of mine, a lot of luck.
Conclusion: Seeing as I know little about animation and don’t have many show business contacts, I’ve decided to just take old "Flintstones" footage, edit different scenes together, and record new audio tracks for them. Why, that’s not Fred Flintstone! That’s Lamont Biggins, a 42-year-old insurance salesman who secretly fights crime as a drug-addicted vampire. The Great Gazoo? Don’t you mean one of Lamont’s cocaine/LSD/crystal meth hallucinations?

Dream Job # 2: Humor Columnist for a major newspaper
Explanation: I wrote a humor column in college and had a blast with it. Given my love for creative writing and entertaining people with witty banter, this job would be ideal for me.
What I need to realistically obtain this goal: Years of experience at a newspaper, where I can work my way up and perhaps eventually reach my goal. Or I could hold an editor hostage. The latter is more realistic when you realize how much I hate newspaper writing.
Conclusion: I will tell everyone my pseudonym is Dave Barry.

Dream Job #3: Working for a video game magazine
Explanation: I’m playing a video game as I type this, so obviously I love video games. I…I...don’t….I’m sorry. I got distracted by which shade of pink Mary-Kate should wear in Mary-Kate & Ashley: Magical Mystery Mall, the greatest video game of all time.
What I need to realistically obtain this goal: The majority of video game magazines are based out of California, a place I would never move to even if the other 49 states were infested with Richard Simmons clones. Their governor can’t even properly pronounce the name of their state. Kal-lee-forn-eyuh? Please stay away from politics, and stick to destroying robots from the future.
Conclusion: Arnold Schwarzenegger appeared in 1997’s “Batman and Robin.” In the film, he played Mr. Freeze and delivered the lines: “Allow me to break the ice. My name is Freeze. Learn it well. For it's the chilling sound of your doom.” This man must be stopped.

Dream Job #4: Goat Rodeo Worker
Explanation: If you don’t know this is my biggest dream, then you probably are reading the wrong blog.
What I need to realistically obtain this goal: Years of traveling to the biggest goat rodeo circuits, learning hands-on techniques from the masters.
Conclusion: Find a funnier picture than this. I dare you.

I know you should never give up on a dream. But I have this overwhelming fear that I’ll wind up working in some soul-crushing office filing TPS reports. Any thoughts?

I Play Golf Like a Pro - I Walk Upright and Use a Club

As shocking as it may be, I've never been much of an athlete. Despite my best efforts, every sport I've attempted has ended horribly. A volleyball match in a ninth grade P.E. class led to a mandatory screening to see if I had something wrong with my motor skills. My bowling matches are often interrupted by concerned bystanders wanting to know if my wild movements are the result of demonic possession. A game of middle school softball resulted in me being struck out fourteen times in one inning. My most pathetic moment of all came from losing a basketball match against Air Bud. I later found out the dog was not Air Bud- it was just a normal golden retriever that was put down immediately following the match due to a birth defect that left him unable to walk. These experiences have left me with a negative attitude toward sports. I don't even like watching sports on television, mostly because I still have not figured out how Team A beating Team B will affect my life in any way.

That's why my friend's repeated invites to go golfing have been continuously shot down. "Not today, I have a bar mitzvah to attend." "I can't today, I'm singing in a gay wedding." "Sorry, I lost both of my arms in a lumberjack competition this morning." The excuses were starting to wear thin. I finally broke down. I agreed to go with him. But there were two conditions: 1.) I would only learn the essentials on a driving range and not actually play a match on a course and 2.) He had to wear a Raggedy Andy costume the entire time.

The first thing I noticed when he picked me up this morning (besides his lack of costume) was the cool breeze that suggested a fast-approaching fall. It was the perfect day for golf, excluding the fact that I did not want to go golfing. Are you ready for the shocker? My driving range experience went well. I played like Tiger Woods. Yes, if Tiger Woods ever gets struck by lightning, given medication to induce powerful hallucinations, and forced to play golf with a sand wedge lodged in his skull, I'd be his twin. My greatest shot came when my ball went about four feet, bounced off a nearby sign, and landed next to a guy who was practicing a couple of mats down. The gentleman was very polite and returned my ball. I apologized and told him I had no idea what I was doing, which given my horrible performance, is like being on a crashing plane and having the pilot come up to you and say "I think we're screwed."

My only other faux pas came when I did not know which bathroom to enter in the clubhouse. Due to my lack of sports knowledge, I didn't know whether to enter the door marked "PGA" or the one that read "LPGA." I went with the "LPGA" one. Don't worry, though. Yes, there were a lot of women in there, but they all had male genitalia, so it was okay.

Surprisingly, by the end of my practice on the driving range, I was actually getting fairly decent. The balls were going pretty far in the field, and they were going up in the air instead of rolling the whole way on the grass. After my practice ended, I accompanied my friend, who wanted to play the course. I didn't mind because I got to drive a golf cart, an experience the squirrels at the course will never forget. On a side note, why doesn't someone invent a sport where you chase squirrels using a golf cart? You could have a few trees in the middle of a large field so the squirrels would have a safe haven they could climb. Players would be armed with balls they could throw in the trees to try to coax the squirrels down. Each golf cart would include a driver and a marksman on the side who could throw the balls and attempt to swing at the critters with a nine iron. JK Rowling's Quidditch premise is sounding pretty lame in comparison, huh?

I learned today that sports can actually be fun, even if you have no clue what you're doing. And I also invented the soon-to-be fastest growing sports sensation, Squirrel Death Tag. Clearly, I'm the most awesome person alive.

Now I Can Clutter Up the Internet, Too

Here it is folks. This is my first attempt at a web log, or “blog” as the kids call it. I can already hear the shouts from some of you. You’re calling me a liar and declaring I deserve to have my face ripped off by a jackal. You’re saying that because you know I’ve had blogs in the past. My first blog had a pretty decent following considering how unprofessional and bizarre it was. How bizarre you ask? It featured an ongoing story about Harriet Tubman being a werewolf slayer. My second blog was actually pretty recent. I started it over at 1up.com, a video game site that shockingly enough, does not care to hear my complaints about “The Tony Danza Show.” Sadly, my rant about Danza was the only entry I ever had. Hey, only the good die young. Due to these awful first attempts, I consider this to be my first blog because I am going to attempt to update regularly and produce some polished commentary. Lord knows I have the time given my lack of employment! Hahahahaha! I will starve to death.

It’s actually pretty amazing that I’m even attempting to do this when you consider how much I hate blogs. I don’t pretend to constantly have insightful things to say, but I like to think I can do better than post what music I’m currently listening to, what mood I’m in today, and how my trip to the mall was productive yet nowhere near as exciting as the funny thing that happened tonight at T.G.I. Fridays. You know the blogs I’m talking about. They’re the ones decorated with kitten clip art and constant misspellings. While I understand that typos happen, “were” instead of “we’re” and “your” instead of “you’re” are not typos; they are a cry for help.

The other problem with blogs is they are not at all unique. In fact, besides water and reality shows, blogs are the most abundant substance on the face of the planet. If there is ever a nuclear holocaust, cockroaches may take over the world, but at least there will be some guy named Lance continuing his blog about what happened today at his post-apocalyptic gym.

However, blogs are far from the worst part of the Internet. That honor would go to the 40 gazillion message boards/forums that litter the information superhighway. When you consider the fact that I’m an unemployed nerd, you know I spend a lot of my time viewing message boards/freeze framing Star Wars DVDs to look for continuity mistakes. To me, these forums are like a gruesome car accident. You want to turn away and yet the hideous brutality of human nature forces you to stay focused, which is also why “Fear Factor” stays on the air. Well, that and because Joe Rogan made a deal with the devil to be on TV despite his lack of charm or talent. Yet message boards are not about eating pig rectums from piles of rat corpses. They’re about interacting with others to discuss opinions and points of view. In Internet speak, this translates to making fun of someone’s love for something until they weep.

For instance, I’m a big fan of “Lost.” Maybe it’s the ongoing mysteries, the clever writing, or the likeable cast, but I can’t get enough of those way-too-good-looking-to-be-stranded-on-an- island-for-months castaways. Recently, I was reading comments posted on a “Lost” forum. About half of the posts were completely bashing the show, which at best were calling it “poorly executed” and at worst declaring it “teh worst shoe evur…Buffy rulez!!!!” It amazes me how people will take the time to enter a forum about a certain intellectual property only to completely bash said intellectual property. It’s like buying tickets for a Sting concert, driving to the show, and proceeding to boo Sting’s performance in a crowd of thousands of fans. Sure, it’s a lot easier to post insults on a message board, but like the Sting analogy, it’s pointless, no one’s listening, and you’re just sad.

It also seems like posters tend to have the exact opposite response that they should. For example, going back to the “Lost” forums, many fans will often post articulate, well-written theories that require deep thought. Yet nine out of ten posters will rip these theories apart. A friend of mine recently posted a theory referring to The Wandering Jew, a literary reference that goes back for thousands of years. Instead of hearing his suggestion out, he was labeled an anti-Semite. On the other hand, some idiot will post their theory that the others are actually robotic pandas protecting the island’s leprechaun gold from pirates and the boards will explode with cries of “brilliant!”

So, with ubiquitous and pointless blogs, forums that make you wonder how the human race has survived this long, and not to mention spam emails about how your penis sucks , it’s understandable why I’ve always been a little cynical about the Web. Yet here I am, posting my thoughts in another pointless blog. I suppose blogs would be an exciting privilege in countries that limit or completely restrict freedom of speech. So with that in mind, don’t be too harsh on my content (or else you don’t love America).

And for those of you who were linked here from elsewhere, I’m Matthew, I’m a 22-year-old graduate with a communications degree/writing minor, I’m looking for a job in the Columbia, SC area, and I’m newly married. Oh, and I’m feeling silly today, and I’m currently listening to Foghat.