I've moved...

Well, this blog has.

Effective immediately, Incoherent Thoughts will be located here.

That would be: http://blog.alienredrum.com.

Thank you for your continued patronage.

Routine, even...

I took my parents out to eat this past Saturday and my father informed me he was going to the hospital Tuesday, today, for surgery.

He didn't seem too concerned, as the particular surgery was routine. Thus, I wasn't too concerned.

At the time.

Of course, later on that night as I was lying in bed, my imagination slipped out and started running rampant in my head. What if this, what if that.

By Sunday, the what ifs went back into hiding.

Today, my sister called me as I was leaving the house and started asking a bunch of silly questions, knowing that it would irritate me since I was in a hurry. "Why are you still home? Why did your schedule change? When are you leaving?"

I promptly hung up on her and went to work.

When I got to the office, I called her back and her first question (of course) was, "Why did you hang up on me?"

"What do you want?" I replied. The day was already starting off to be busy one, so I didn't have much time.

"Do you know where I'm at?"

"Where?" I asked.

"I'm at the hospital with daddy."

I had forgotten all about the surgery. It definitely wasn't intentional, I just have this knack of discarding things that worry me. I asked my sister to keep me updated throughout the day, and hung up.

And that's when the what ifs came back for a visit.

I left work about 3:30 and headed for the hospital.

When I arrived, my dad was just being admitted into his room.

Everything had gone smooth. Routine, even.

My dad was in good spirits, if a little worn.

I hung out for a couple of hours and headed home. The thoughts that went through my mind on the way home are irrelevant for this post, as, shockingly enough, I do keep most of my shit private. But they certainly centered around the fact that my parents aren't going to live forever as I had thought.

And that bothers the piss out of me.

Me and that there dog have issues...

That there is my sister's boyfriend's dog. That there dog has tried to bite me on the ass numerous times and has succeeded once.

Me and that there dog have issues.

One night I went over my sister's place to hang out.

We were watching TV, having a grand time, when my sister said, "Stand up, Stewie, I want to show you something."

I stood up and she said, "Give me your hand."

I did.

She took my hand and hit her arm with it, making a big deal about it.

The dog, who had been laying peacefully beside her jumped up and went insane.

Then it lunged at me, trying to bite me.

Me, being the quick thinker, grabbed my sister and held her between me and the dog. If that little bastard was going to bite me, he would have to get through her. The downside of course was my sister continued to yell and scream like I was hurting her, making the dog more insane.

Finally, my sister, laughing, calmed the dog down. The dog gave me a look and laid back down.

My sister thinks she is funny.

IE users...

Yeah, if you are viewing this in IE, it's all fucked up.

It seemingly just happened as I have not modded the template in weeks.

It works fine in firefox, though.

Changes to fix it are coming soon.

Much more than I anticipated...

A couple of weeks ago (or maybe a month, who knows), I was checking out the bands coming to The Rams Head Tavern (a local bar).

I've yet to go to a concert at the Ram's Head because, generally, I don't want to drop $40 on someone who I'm not a huge fan of. And a band that I really like has yet to come to Ram's Head (except for Billy Idol, which I missed, which is unfortunate because I heard he put on a helluva show).

As I was perusing the list of upcoming artists, I saw that KT Tunstall was only 12 bucks. It seemed like a damn good price, but I had not heard anything by her at all.

I brought it up to my friend, Rosie, and she said that I would probably like her, considering some of the stuff that I've listened to.

So I picked up Tunstall's CD, listened to it over a weekend, dug it a lot, went to get tickets the following Monday and, sure enough, they were sold out. Fuckity.

I checked Tunstall's website to see if she was playing anywhere else in the area, but I was out of luck.

A couple of days later, I was checking out the upcoming events for Barnes & Noble and Borders to see if there were any authors I wanted to hear read. Well, low and behold, KT Tunstall was doing a signing at the Borders near me the same day she was going to appear at The Ram's Head. I can dig that.

So I went up today and, in addition to the signing, she did a small acoustic set. It was only three songs, but it was much more than I anticipated.

She opened with "Miniature Disasters" (I think), then played "Other Side of the World" and finished with "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree."

Good times.












Yeah, that one of me and her pretty much sucks because the dude took the picture before I was ready. But I can pretty much live with it even though it looks like I'm a deer in damn headlights.

Oh, and a public plea: If you plan on going to a show where people are going to be standing close to you, for fuck's sake, where some deodorant. Someone standing next to me obviously didn't have good hygiene.

Dick.

I know I say this often...

In my spare time, as I have most undoubtedly have mentioned in previous entries, I review movies for HorrorTalk.

I really love doing it, although I do get a little overwhelmed, sometimes, when a bunch of movies come in the mail at once. And, my editor, Ace, gets just as overwhelmed. But the sonovabitch gets it done, so (myspace) kudos to him.

One of the best things about reviewing movies -- aside from the free movies -- is sometimes you get some kickass recognition for something you have written. I've received some stellar emails from some stellar people. People like Mick Garris (director of Stephen King's "The Shining" and Sleepwalkers), Leslie Orr (Patty in The Manson Family--hawt) and various other kickass emails.

Hell, a few entries back, I met a person in 'real life' who has read some of my reviews.

Quite simply, that shit rocks. Sure, the average joe may not know who the hell Mick Garris is, but to me, that's what makes writing 'views worth it. I dig Garris' movies, he dug one of my reviews. Fuck yeah.

One of the things I most wanted when I started doing this gig was to get on a box cover. It wasn't something I strived for because, admittedly, I suck at writing the tagline. It's something I always work on, but, for some reason, it's just not my skill. I'm either too wordy or the fact that I refuse to write a dreaded cliche or whatever. I don't know.

But that doesn't matter. Because Fear of Clowns came out today.

I've been waiting for months for this movie to come out. Months. Because that "...frightening..." you see on the cover? That's from my review.

I don't give a shit that it's ellipsed. I don't give a shit that the whole line isn't on there.

Something I fucking wrote is on the box cover of a movie released by Lionsfuckinggate and is being sold nationfuckingwide.

I know I say this often...

But can I get a fuck yeah!



Much thanks to Aric, Ace and Fred for various reasons.

Rock on, gentlemen.

I don't even like Loverboy...

Freakmagnet and I had an interesting email conversation, today.

FreakMagnet: They've been playing Loverboy songs on XM radio and I don't know why, but every time I hear one of their songs, I picture you singing and dancing to it.
Makes for interesting entainment.

Me: I DON'T EVEN LIKE LOVERBOY. >:(
Now, if it were Warrant, I'd understand.

FreakMagnet: I guess you wouldn't want to know that I picture you in the red leather pants, then, would you?

Me: Oh THAT i do every night. Sometimes I lose the pants, tuck it and dance Silence of the Lambs style.

FreakMagnet: I hope you know you'’ve just ruined me for other men.

Me: I know. Now that you have that image, how can another man even compete?

I rule.

I spy with my little eye...

Recently I just finished using crest white strips on my teeth. I'm a smoker and a coffee drinker and it was starting to show.

Holy hell, what a difference those strips made.

But, that's not really what this entry is about.

I told my sister about the wonders of the white strips (her being a smoker and coffee drinker as well). She agreed that they did work wonders.

She went on to tell me why she had picked them up.

One day a few years back, her and Cody, my nephew, were driving down the street and playing "I spy" (or is it "Eye spy?").

My sister said, "I spy with my little eye something red."

"The stop sign!" Cody exclaimed.

"That's good, honey." My sister drove on and saw something else.

"I spy with my little eye something yellow." She said.

Cody looked out the window a bit, searching for the yellow something.

Finally, he turned to my sister, smiled, pointed at her mouth and said, "Mama's teeth!"

She finished the story by telling me she stopped and picked up some white strips.

I laughed my ass off.