Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Movie: Predatory Instinct (2011)

Sound Department
as Leon

Three young adults meet a charismatic stranger at closing time of the bar where they work. They accept an invitation to join a gathering he is attending with some friends in a secluded desert house. At first charmed by their interesting hosts, a violent encounter changes the tone of their evening, and the group begins to realize that all is not as it seems with their new acquaintances. Faced now with a decision to either wait out the morning or plot an escape, they contend not only with the ambiguous true nature of their hosts, but also strange humanoid creatures roaming the desert who may pose a threat to all involved.



DVD Commentary: Secrets of Sweet Sixteen (1973, Code Red)

Commentator

Buy it HERE!

Jeff, Kevin and Dave give this film the Cinema Head Cheese rub in a comedy commentary for the ages!

Buxom 70's euro-chicks flash before your eyes in the craziest, offensive, shocking stories that ever featured in this strange collection of skits from today's headlines! Virgin being sacrificed to satan by muscle bound rich devil worshippers! Child Molester stopped by two hot horny college girls! A european postman finds sex can be a deadly thing! A masseuse have powers with his hands to his ladies! Daughter disguised as a older woman to steal her mother's lover in a seedy hotel! See 70's sex tigress Christine Lindberg loose and on the prowl!

Book: Keeping Molly (2014, Splatter Theatre Press)

Writer
(with David C. Hayes)


Alan and Molly are young, in love and expecting. The last thing on their minds is a disease that ravages the nervous system and turns its victims into feral, flesh-eating beasts. As the world nose dives into the apocalypse and the government takes action in rounding up the infected, Molly rapidly develops symptoms. Believing that love can conquer all, Alan secrets his wife away, hiding her from the world. If he can just wait it out, Alan thinks, all will be well. But Molly is very, very hungry.

Wednesday, March 05, 2014

Ebook: Kevin Hates Everything (2014)

Yes, it's here, and it's free. Kevin Hates Everything started as a blog and podcast in 2009, and the original 56 blogs plus one bonus chapter are now available in a free ebook. You can download the ebook in PDF, ePub or mobi format.

This book is COMPLETELY FREE, but if you would like to toss a little coin my way, I'll happily accept donations through PayPal. Just click the button below.


You can always email Kevin at kevinhateseverything@yahoo.com. Tweet him @kevinmoyers.

Click here to get the free PDF version or right click and choose "Save As..." to download.

Click here to get the free ePub version or right click and choose "Save As..." to download.

Click here to get the free mobi version or right click and choose "Save As..." to download.

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Friday, January 10, 2014

Why the Sports Fan and the Comic Geek are the Same Guy

Like many, I keep a foot in both of these arenas. I'm not 100% into either. As far as sports go, I'm full on into football. Well, NFL football. I don't care about college, arena leagues or semi-pro crap. I play fantasy, and despite my one championship, I make the playoffs about 40% of the time. I like hockey, but I'm not a die hard fan. I watch a game here and there, and I love the playoffs. Baseball, basketball and soccer can all go fuck themselves. When it comes to comic books, I don't read them. I've written a few that you've never heard of. I like the movies and cartoons made from comics. I enjoy walking through a comicon and seeing all of the artwork and the craziness. I rarely buy anything.

Many of you, though, decide to join one team and ridicule the other. Sports fans look at comic geeks as losers who look at kids' shit. Comic geeks look at sports fans as jocks who need to grow up. Guess what? You're both right, but you need to realize that you aren't really that different.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Blog: Cinema Head Cheese

Cinema Head Cheese is a great little review site that is continually gaining traction. I am a co-founder of the site along with David Hayes and Jeff Dolniak. We also record a monthly podcast that includes reviews, interviews and various segments. I write reviews, editorials, and articles such as Versus, a comparison of similar movies or characters.

Read my articles and reviews on Cinema Head Cheese

Monday, April 02, 2012

Knock It Off, Spike Lee

I often look toward Hollywood and wonder how certain people are allowed to continue working. It has nothing to do with the quality of your films. I refuse to see any of them. I'm sure you'll call me a racist for that, because that's what you do, but your race has (shocking!) nothing to do with it. I refuse to support the career of someone who is such an obnoxious dickbag. You have crossed that line one too many times, and now it's time to put a stop to you.

Let's put aside the time you tried to sue the Spike channel for stealing your name. That's just stupid. If Warner Bros. was smart, they'd sue you for stealing the name of their cartoon dog. You don't own your name, asshole. They called it Spike, not Spike Lee. It's an innocuous old-timey tough guy name that they used for a guys' channel. It's irony that your name is one that's usually attributed to tough guys, considering the fact that you whine more than a baby with a booboo.

You are one of the most prolific race baiters of the last century. As much as you claim that you want an end to racism, you do a damn good job of keeping it alive. I know you're upset about Trayvon Martin. So am I. So are a lot of people. I think George Zimmerman took things to a horrible level, and he should be punished. As great as the idea of vigilante justice sounds, it's never really going to be a good idea. It's like owning a pit bull. Proponents say it's all in how you train them. The problem with it is that only morons own pit bulls, and these are the same that will participate in taking the law into their own hands. Zimmerman is one of those morons, and so are you.

You somehow thought it was a great idea to post George Zimmerman's address on Twitter. Of course, genius that you are, you didn't do any research. You posted the address to the wrong George Zimmerman. The house you posted belongs to an elderly couple in poor health. You didn't even have the balls or brains to apologize. Go on with your stupid life while others suffer due to your asshole mistake. If I were them, I'd have a lawyer building a case against you.

You need to slink back into the shadows where you came from. Nobody wants to hear from you. You only cause trouble. Considering the money your films don't pull in, nobody wants to be entertained by you, either. Do all of us a favor and disappear. Don't worry, nobody will even notice.

Sunday, March 04, 2012

Knock It Off, Tweakers

You are loud, crass and obviously dumb. You look like you haven't showered in months. There are two of you in that apartment, and I don't like either of you. I don't care how cordial you are to me. I refuse to like you. Why? Because you're fuck-ups of the worst kind. I'm all for making drugs legal. That's not my issue. It's your body, and if you're stupid enough to fill it with chemicals, that's your business. That doesn't mean I have to talk to you. In fact, I'm done talking to you. I'm now ready to explain you to the readers.

He reminds me of that guy in the Adam Sandler movie who can't remember that he introduced himself to you. Every time is see this guy, whether it's in the laundry room or by the parking area, he can't seem to remember that he met me. He insists over and over that we never met, and then he holds his hand up in that stupid downward swooping overhanded handshake that I only ever see coming from an idiot. He tried to help another neighbor with his car by telling him that aluminum foil was a great way to wrap a splice. This fucktard has children. Of course he does. You already expected that.



She looks slightly worse than Margot Kidder did when she was found in someone's bushes. She's frail and gaunt looking. Imagine a normal person. Now imagine what that person would look like after you poked a straw into her head and sucked out all the juice. She's somewhere between a Killer Klowns from Outer Space victim and a spent Capri Sun container. Her mouth looks like she chews on whole walnuts filled with squid ink for fun.

These two are ridiculous. Just before I started writing this, they were arguing, and I couldn't tell which was saying what, because they both have that smoker's voice that sounds like Danny Bonaduce gargling razor blades. One of them started to call the other nigger whore. They're both white, which I'm sure I didn't need to say. Meth is a fairly white drug. I count the days until I get to leave this hellhole. I will say farewell to these assholes and their shit, and I hope these morons and their poor kids forget me like so many introductions.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Knock It Off, Oscars

Every year, Hollywood jerks itself off. From the expensive clothing to the ridiculous red carpet walks, it's a huge dick yanking to self. Here's the deal, Oscar, you don't win at art. It's not a competition. Art is meant to entertain. It's not a sport. It's there for interpretation. You can't decide who was most arty. That's just stupid.

Most of what hits theaters is shit these days. In the last year, I've only been compelled to see one movie in theaters. I find so much more on the independent front. By independent, I don't mean it's made by some celebrity that used twenty million dollars out of his own pocket. I mean real independent movies made for little money by true outsiders. Movies you refuse to acknowledge



I'm going to tell you something that might shock you. Meryl Streep is not that great. Like most actors, she's pretty much the same in every movie. I know you love her, but the fact is that she's no better than most.
I can't trust what you tell me is good. You once gave an original screenplay award to Lost in Translation. That movie was one of the worst pieces of shit I've ever seen. Your relevance went out the window at that point. You can tell me I don't get it, but you're lying, and I don't know why.

When you start acknowledging real indies and movies that deserve recognition, I'll start giving a shit about what you have to say. You give awards to movies you wished people would like, but half the time they're no good. Start including everyone, or stop existing. That's all that I can say.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Knock It Off, Disney and Marvel Comics

Back in August, I got to meet a comic book creator who is very special to me. His name is Gary Friedrich, and he created the only comic book I ever really read. He's the man responsible for Ghost Rider. I interviewed him for Cinema Head Cheese, and thanks to a giant t-shirt booth, the audio is no good. I will say, however, that he was a very pleasant guy who took pride in his creation. HIS creation. That's something that you, Marvel Comics, and your new owner, Disney, seem to have forgotten.

A few years ago, Friedrich sued you over copyrights for Ghost Rider. Apparently, he wasn't given his share from the movie. You argued the issue, but you really have no place to do so. See, when you originally printed the character in an anthology called Marvel Spotlight #5, you credited Friedrich as the creator of Ghost Rider, and you never copyrighted the character. Therefore, Friedrich has always and still does retain the copyright. Unfortunately, you and a judge that I can only assume is in your corporate pocket seem to disagree.

You counter-sued Friedrich, and a horrible settlement offer was put out there. The man who gave you a character that you've made millions from in books, toys and a movie now has to pay you $17,000, and he can't say he's the creator of Ghost Rider to make money. Isn't that a little extreme? Technically, you use your resume to try to make money, so can he even put it there? You have to be insane. Do you know how bad you look, especially with a second movie coming out?

You stole from the man, and now you have the courts helping you steal more. Thanks to your selfish and greedy actions, I will now boycott Marvel, Disney, your affiliates and anything connected to you. This means ABC, ESPN, any of your radio and television stations. Who else have you screwed over?

I like the fact that other comic creators have come together to support Gary in this terrible time. Steve Niles, creator of 30 Days of Night, even set up a donation page on his website. I'm happy to share that and support the cause. You need to realize that without creators, you have nothing. This is why I'm glad to see so many people work independently. Soon enough, people will bail on corporations like you, and we'll all be out there putting out our work for fans who want it. It'll be nice top work without your filter, and you won't be able to rob those who feed your gluttony.

To donate to Gary Friedrich, head over to http://www.steveniles.com/gary.html.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Second-Hand Boogers: It's About Time

I love writing about my daughter. It's interesting for me to analyze what she does. I get to study her while I raise her. It's a nice set of goggles to see the world through sometimes. Other times, I think too much about the horrible things that might happen. That's not all bad, considering the fact that I'll be prepared to deal with anything that comes my or her way. What I do realize through all of this is that time is flying by, and I need to hang on to every second that I can.

The day I write this is my dad's sixtieth birthday. I left him a message, and I'm sure I'll talk to him in a day or two. That's a big number in some respects, but it's still young in the grand scheme of things. I'll be thirty-six this year. It'll be ten years since I hit panic mode and decided to do something that I always wanted to do. In the past ten years, I have written comic books, blogs and most of a screenplay. I have acted in a dozen movies. I have published a book, recorded a stand-up comedy CD and made music for a movie. I helped to create a popular movie review website and podcast network. I have taken time seriously. I need to continue that trend in other aspects of my life.

Knock It Off, Rodney Harrison

I understand that it's tough to watch your former team lose the Super Bowl. I'm sure it's especially rough when they lose to the Giants for the second time, especially since you were on the team the first time. What you shouldn't do is shit on the way another player deals with that loss. You criticized Rob Gronkowski for dancing at a club after his team's Super Bowl loss, and you really have no place. You weren't half the player he is.

I know you were good at what you did, but this is a guy that's coming off of two NFL records in his sophomore year in the league. Do you know what award you won twice? Dirtiest player in the league. You were highly regarded as a scumbag, and now you only extend that legacy of douchebaggery. You are a dick, and you should shut your stupid mouth. I'll bet you don't know why, but I'll happily tell you.

First off, Gronk is a monster. The kid's going into the Hall of Fame. Sure, you might be as well, but at least people will be happy to see him go in. You were a dick on the field, and now you're a dick on television. You're part of the worst commentary team on the air. You and Tony Dungy are beyond boring, and you keep me from watching the pregame show on Sunday nights. If it were up to me, you'd be fired... out of a cannon... into a brick wall. Anything to save us from another season of your bland so-called insight.

Worst of all, you sit back and shit on a great player for what he did after the Super Bowl while you were on the wrong side of the greatest catch in Super Bowl history. That's right. Right behind David Tyree and his amazing helmet catch is good old number 37. You fucked up, shithead, and now you're throwing blame on someone else. It's not Gronk's fault that you got posterized. Own up to your own bullshit and leave the kid alone. People will only remember you as that shitty guy on NBC while they're still singing his praises. Grow up and let the guy have a good time. After all, it's a kids' game.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Knock It Off, David Cross

This one pains me. It really does. I love comedy, and I'm a fan of yours. I like your stand-up. I own your albums. I like Arrested Development, The Incredibly Long Show Title That Ends in Todd Margaret and Mr. Show. Run, Ronnie, Run is under-appreciated. I think you have a great comedic voice that needs to be heard. That being said, your recent complaints about working on the latest Chipmunks movie make you look like a ridiculous fool.

I heard it on a podcast, then on another, and then on a talk show. You began to tell the tale of how you were made to work in a scene on a cruise ship, and you wore a mascot suit for your scenes. You talked about it as though your captors were shoving bamboo under your fingernails while gang raping your girlfriend in front of you. The big complaint was that your face wasn't visible, so the asshole producers could have hired a stand-in to do your scenes. They could have, but they were already paying you.

I seem to remember you being a person who would make fun of people like you. You used to shit on conventional Hollywood, and now you're turning into what you despise. Think about your complaint for a minute. You're upset because you had to do your job. You are angry that you had to fill the role of your character. You believe that the producers are scum for not letting you sit at home while someone who makes a fraction of what you make does the work that you deem to be horrific. Am I missing anything?

As an actor, you have the easiest job in the world. You play pretend, and you get a hefty paycheck to do so. In the scenes on the ship, you didn't even have to remember lines. Can it get any easier? I don't even begrudge you making shitty movies. I get it. Everyone needs to get paid. I'd do it too. What I wouldn't do is cry over something as simple as having to do the job I was hired to do. Stop the whining and appreciate the life you have. Not everyone gets to fuck off for a living.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Second-Hand Boogers: Hand Me Downs

I saw a picture today that made me think. It was a picture of my brother-in-law holding up a skateboard covered in Hello Kitty stickers. It's my niece's first skateboard, and he couldn't look happier in the picture. My niece is only two and a half, but he's ready to get her started. I know they'll both enjoy every second of it. It made me think about what I might hand down to Casey. Even as I write this, I'm not entirely sure.

I'm not even talking about genetic stuff. She has a sense of humor, and she's already an asshole, so I've passed that down. I'm thinking more in the realm of things we can do together. I never had that with my parents, but I have friends who have baseball with their dads, or crocheting with their moms. My girlfriend is in a roller derby league, and she wants to teach Casey how to skate. I finally gave in, and we should see the result of that soon.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Knock It Off, Jay-Z

Congratulations on having a kid. In fact, congratulations on being the first guy on the planet to ever have a kid. Oh, wait. You aren't the first? Well, shit. By the way you've been acting, it seems that you think you are the first dad on the planet. In fact, you seem to think you're the only dad on the planet, you inconsiderate fuck.

Some people might think that I should include your wife, Beyonce, in this post, but I disagree. I know I shouldn't dismiss her for this behavior, but it wouldn't surprise me to see this from a woman. Women are crazy, and pregnant women are the ninth circle of insane. If she shit up a playground slide while juggling dead hamsters, I wouldn't be that shocked. You, however, are a grown man. You really deserve a punch in the face for the way you're acting.

It's one thing to rent a wing of a hospital for the birth of your child, but to prevent other fathers from seeing their kids is absolute bullshit. Your shitheel security blocked a dad from seeing his newborn who happened to be hanging on to life by a thread. If I were that dad, I'd have two options. I could be rational and just call the cops to let me in. I could also do what would probably be more along the lines of what would be realistic for me and start swinging scalpels. You don't keep another dad from his kid. That's just asshole behavior.

Now, you say you're retiring the word bitch. You can't retire a word, bitch. You can stop using it yourself, bitch, but you have to remember, bitch, that bitch is in the chorus of one of your most famous songs, bitch. You see, bitch, just because you, the almighty Jay-Bitch, have a daughter, doesn't mean the word bitch can't exist anymore, bitch. Your daughter isn't that precious, bitch, and with as spoiled as your newborn daughter already is, bitch, she's bound to be a bitch.

You need to calm down. I have a daughter, too. What you're doing is trying to create a perfect world for her. There is no such thing. She's going to bump her head, shit her pants and fail at things. You can't prevent that. You can try, but you will fail. It's life. The more you keep her in a bubble, the worse off she'll be. She won't know how to deal with people in any way other than to boss them around. If you create a princess, you'll have a queen bitch. That's the way it works. Just live like a normal human being. Let her fall down once in awhile. If you don't, she'll never learn to pick herself up.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Knock It Off, Model/Actress

I see people doing weird things all the time. You might be the strangest of the bunch. It's funny, but most people don't run around proclaiming to have a job that they don't really have. You, however, live your life telling everyone that you are this thing that you really aren't. In fact, you tell them you're something that you really shouldn't tell them you are. I'm not talking to legitimate models or actresses, I'm talking to the wannabes.

I don't mind you having a dream. That's fine. Many of us have dreams. What I do mind is you spending more time trying to convince me and the rest of the world that you're living it than actually living it. Here's a great example. If you look at my Facebook profile, it has my name on it. It doesn't say "Kevin Moyers Mailman." That's not my name. Your profile, however, says "Shirley Shithead Actress." If you have to tell me you're an actress, you're probably not doing that great of a job.

Also, you have the job description. "Model/Actress at Self Employed." That's a big lie. You don't model or act for yourself. Yes, I know my profile says that I work for Abnormal Entertainment. Well, I do. I co-own it, and I helped build what we have here. On top of that, I do work on it every single day. Every single day. That's not a joke. Not a day goes by that I'm not blogging, reviewing a movie, editing someone else's movie review, recording, editing or posting a podcast or trying to find ways to get our work attention. I truly work at Abnormal Entertainment.

I also want to clarify this whole model thing. Acting is easy to define. If you filmed some shit half-assed movie with your friends (guilty), then you've acted. I get that. I've done that, though I would never call myself an actor. That is my personal choice. Modeling, however, requires you to model for something. Doing a so-called photo shoot in your underwear in some guy's garage for no purpose other than to take pictures does not make you a model. It makes you a dummy. You are now spank material for some guy who was just smart enough to tug at your ego.

Here's another thing. You think that somehow you're going to make a living off of your looks. I hate to say this, but many of you will never be able to do that. I know that automatically makes me a jerk guy to most of you, but I'm being honest. Adorable as I am, I can't cash in on my face. I'm honest with myself. You might want to consider doing the same thing. It's not just about that, though. I would think that if you had any kind of real self-esteem, you'd want to be known for something more than just being that girl who put fifty pictures of herself almost naked up on her Tumblr account. I have a daughter, and no matter how pretty she someday is, I will always make sure she aims higher than trying to use her looks to make a buck. I want her to be a person of substance. I'd like to see her educate herself and let her looks be a nice bonus to the fact that she's a success at something meaningful. I'd like to see you all do the same. Aim a little higher or try a little harder. Let your accomplishments convince that you are a success, not your Facebook profile.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Second-Hand Boogers: It's All SpongeBob's Fault

There was a recent report that blamed SpongeBob Squarepants for a rise in ADHD cases because the colors and images flash by too fast. I've been watching the show with Casey in marathon chunks, and I have to say that this theory is entirely bullshit. The problem isn't SpongeBob. It's what's going on around SpongeBob.

While we watch, Casey eats, plays board games, plays with her LeapPad, plays with her toys and really takes multitasking to a new level. It has nothing to do with SpongeBob. He just happened to show up at the right time. Look at the cartoons I grew up with. Woody Woodpecker was all over the place. Nobody blamed him for anything, yet I have ADHD, apparently, and so does my entire generation.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Knock It Off, Kristy McNichol

First off, I'm happy for you, I think. Maybe this secret explains why you've had some odd behavior over the last few years. Face it, you left a hit sitcom for no understandable reason, and then you went to work the sales floor at Sears. Does that make any sense at all? Not to most. however, if you were hiding something this big about your life, I can understand how it would frazzle you to the point of insanity.

That being said, I think you're full of shit. Not about being gay, but about wanting to come out so that young women can see that it's okay. In case you had no idea, there isn't a living soul under thirty who knows who you are. You haven't been on television in over two decades. You vanished from the planet. My guess is that you really came out years ago, but nobody cared. Now you did it through a publicist so you could have something you've been missing for so long: attention.

Look, I feel for anyone who feels the need to hide who they are. It's not right. You should be able to do whatever you want. I don't care if it's sex, a career, a hobby or a fucking television show you watch. You should be able to be honest about your interests and proclivities. What you should also be honest about is your motive.

I'm glad that in today's society, it's a little easier to be out and proud. You haven't jumped over every hurdle just yet, but you're getting there. I just don't need the public display of anyone's love life. I don't care who Jennifer Aniston is going to marry, I don't care who George Clooney is fucking this week, and I don't care that you are coming out of the closet. Remember the whole thing about your bedroom being private? You and all of the other celebrities out there should remember that next time you open your stupid yaps.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

Second-Hand Boogers

The second I said the name of this blog out loud, I knew I had to use it for something. It's an odd title, but I really love it. It truly symbolizes what it is to be a parent. It shows the sacrifice you make in becoming secondary in your own life. It depicts the grossness you deal with as a parent. It's a testament to how many foreign bodily fluids will end up on you at one point or another. It is beautiful, no matter how disgusting it is. Just like your kids.

I was driving one day, and Casey sneezed. It wasn't bad, and she didn't have any danglers, which was nice. She picked her nose. She always picks her nose. I wish I knew where she gets that. I wish that last sentence couldn't be answered by looking in a mirror. Anyway, some of the time, she does it and eats it in front of me, just because it grosses me out. She gets a kick out of that. This time, she just yelled for me. She didn't know what to do with this golden nugget she just excavated from her nostril, and without thinking, I reached back and told her to give it to me. She wiped it right on my finger. That's when I said it.



"This is my life. Second-hand boogers."

The light bulb went off, and I knew that I'd have to remember that phrase. The booger? It ended up in the graveyard under my seat. Where else would I put it? I really don't know why I opted to reach back and get it. It's not the only time I did something like that. One day, on the way to see the great grandparents, Casey got car sick, and she told me. "I'm sick, Daddy." I looked at her, and I knew she was going to lose it. What did I do? I reached back and cupped my hand, as though I could catch the entire spew. I still have no idea what possessed me to do that, but I did it.

Of course, what she expelled was more than I could handle, and I was left with a handful of puke. I held it out over the passenger seat, where it dripped until I flung it out of my window. When I got to my grandparents' house, I changed Casey's clothes, and she promptly rested in Great Grandma's lap. I spent some time cleaning my car and her car seat. She slept it off, and all was well again.

The puke doesn't bother me like I thought it would. The first time she did it, she was sick, and I was feeding her mashed potatoes. She sprayed me like Reagan from The Exorcist. It hit my shoulder at full force, and all I could do was laugh. The only bad part is that I ate off the same spoon, and I got sick a few days later. Again, I don't know what possessed me, but I did it to entice her to eat.

The thing is that the poop, puke, pee and snot are all a part of the job. I feel sometimes like I'm the lead shit shoveler at the zoo, but it's my zoo, and I get to have fun with the animals. That makes it all worthwhile.

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

Knock It Off, Shitty Neighbors

I haven't lived next to you idiots for too long, but it only took me about four seconds to know you were assholes. I'm a good judge of character, and I could have spotted you from an airplane flying thousands of feet overhead. I do blame the landlord for renting to you. That jackoff cares about money, not the building. That's how you fuckers end up next to me. Great.

You do some really dumb things. For some reason, you keep some of your kids' toys outside along the walkway. It's a place to walk, not a storage area. My favorite is the time you were spraying the makeshift sides of your pickup truck with black spray paint. You were protecting the paint job of your twenty-year-old banged up shit heap, but you failed to realize that it was one of the windiest days all year, and your paint will travel with the wind and get on other people's cars. Nice work, fucktard.



Then we get to the worst part. You fight constantly. Not only that, you fight loudly. Not only is it loud, but you feel the need to do it outside and in front of your kids. That's horrible for everyone. Am I the only person that hears your kid bawling every time you get into this? I know you don't hear it, or you don't care. Do you think that's a good way to live?

No kid should see that, especially not five days a week. You're doing horrible things to each other in front of your children. You call each other mother fuckers and whores and insult each other in various ways. This is what they hear, and this is what every one of your neighbors hear. Have a little dignity and self respect, and do that shit inside, or better yet, don't do it at all. I'm tired of the childish nonsense.