My man Ridley Scott ain't got nothin' on me.

Hey science fiction lovers and old school space marines!

In an awesome twist of fate, or money, or something, Ridley Scott has signed on to direct the prequel of his own brilliant 1979 film, "Alien."

Man, that's great news! Those poor alien guys have had a pretty rough time lately at the movies. First of all, they got roughed up a little by David Fincher in the third round... and then they just flat out got ripped to pieces by Paul W.S. Anderson when they brawled in some kind of Egyptian or Mayan tomb or something in that Alien vs. Predator film.

Finally, the guy who brought us such classics as Blade Runner, Gladiator and American Gangster will hopefully come back to the 'ole Sci-Fi roots and put these sweet monster alien guys back at the top of the food chain where they belong.

Of course, it comes with a price.

You see, I've been developing my own Alien film for quite some time now, and it seems that Scott has come along to wreck all my plans. Especially since my movie would have been ten-times more awesome and visceral than the one that's probably cookin' up in some writer guy's head right now.

My movie was going to take these Alien guys from the farthest reaches of space and put them somewhere in Australia, one of Earth's most deadly locales.

See, the Aliens get pretty pissed off that they land in Australia. There's not a whole lot of stuff around down there, especially out in the Outback area. They probably set up shop, making a big hideout somewhere underground with all that slime and pipes or whatever they use to make their homes.

When a group of American teenagers decide to go camping out in the Outback for some school project, they actually intend to have a bunch of pre-marital sex, do tons of drugs and show a casual disregard for the environment by dumping a ton of oil from their car for some reason.

Anyway, once they do all this stuff... the formula takes effect. There's nothing that monster film antagonists hate more than teenagers who do this kind of thing. In no time, they find the secret Alien hideout and the carnage begins.

For you non-alien fans: these Alien guys need human beings to work. These spider-looking face-hugger things latch on to your face and plant an egg somewhere in your chest... then in a few hours the Aliens that we know & love grow up in there. Pretty soon... they burst out of your chest faster than a mouse escaping a factory where hundreds of cats build lawn mowers.

Anyway, (((SPOILER ALERT!!))) all the teenagers get face-hugged and die (except for one... the innocent virgin girl who doesn't cuss or do drugs). Now it's up to the lone surviving girl to find help, so that this Alien menace doesn't take over the entire Outback.

There's only one thing that can stop the Aliens from doing so, and that's this group of deadly CGI animals lead by a powerful leader with a cool, intimidating name like, "Bone Snapper" or "Razor Fist" or "Blood Razor" or something. He's a Honey Badger, and he has no patience for these Alien guys who're trying to take over his turf.*

He forms this awesome team of burned-out killers, such as the ex-drug addicted monster-sized Crocodile, the down-on-his-luck gambling addict Funnel Web Spider and the super powerful Taipan snake who's lost all of his money in Real Estate and is forced to get by as a con-man, suckering in tourists for money.

There's also a cigar-smoking, eye-patched ex-assassin Great White Shark who's willing to come out of retirement... for the right price.

Anyway, it will include cameo appearances by other awesome character actors: an ex-wrestling & cage fighting Box Jellyfish, a mad scientist Stone Fish, a demolition expert Blue Ring Octopus, a ghetto-talking, comic relief Red Back Spider and a numchuck-wielding Tiger Snake.

Now the brawl has begun!! Can a rag-tag team of Earth's most deadliest (albeit burned out) animals take on a group of highly evolved creatures from outer space who bleed acid and have giant razor-sharp teeth and tails?

That's totally the question I was going to answer in my film.

The one that Ridley Scott has now stolen.

Well... I'm willing to forgive the guy. Especially since his budget will probably be way bigger than mine. I had planned on doing my entire film with action figures and sock puppets. (The Funnel Web Spider guy was actually going to be my hand in a glove with googly eyes glued on to it.)

Take care readers, and let me know if you can think up an awesome name for my team of renegade animal warriors. It would have been one of the all-time greats.

Bleedin' acid 4 life,

-M

*I know, I know, there aren't any Honey Badgers in Australia. Yeah, well, there's no zany East Tennessee rednecks running around in Nazi-occupied France either, but Brad Pitt proved THAT wrong. So suspend belief and go with the flow.

Let's Get Serious. Best Trailer Ever.

Hey guys,

Check this crazy poster out:

I'd urge you to click on THIS link as soon as HUMANLY POSSIBLE to watch one of the coolest film trailers I've ever seen in my entire life.

The official trailer page is HERE.

Amazing!!!!

There's a new look around here.

Hey blog lovers and bar fighters,

So obviously a made a big change tonight on this blog, and you're going to have to deal with it.

You're probably wondering a lot of things right now. Here's a quick list of things that I'm sure you've been thinking about:

1. It's technically the future now... where's the damn hovering skateboards?

2. Is it safe to eat the pizza that I accidentally left out on my couch last night?

3. Why did McClane re-design The Tirade?

4. Why is Jason Voorhees so awesome?

5. Would it be a big deal to just stab my next-door neighbor in the arm with some scissors or an old bamboo stick if he doesn't give me back my sweet cooler that I let him borrow four months ago?

6. If there was a radiation leak under the ground from a toxic waste spill, alien invasion or some evil terrorist plot to take over the world, what are the chances of some people turning into mutant animals like those guys from the old school Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon?

7. Accounting: overrated?

I'm going to be pretty straight-forward with you here, readers... I can't answer any of those questions except for that one about the blog. The answers that you're seeking have probably been in your heart this entire time. Follow it.

Anyway, I had some complaints that my blog was too wide (especially from the girlfriend who couldn't read it on her phone), too dark, too creepy and I even got this letter from a reader in Canada that was really persuasive:

_____________________

Dear McClane,

My name is Billy, and your blog inadvertently killed my entire family, and here's how:

My mom got up one morning to read your blog, just like every damn day that she can, because she's a faithful reader of more than two years. She also talks about you constantly, especially when it comes to how awesome your ideas are. Last year she started a religious cult, just like you recommended. The whole thing bombed when her partner (the awesome guy with the snake mask) stole the proceeds from the Dragonforce concert and left with his gay lover to Paris.

Anyway, she'd been trying to deal with the recent "blue" re-design for a while, but the darkness of it and the forever-long width of the main column was really stressing her out.

Sometimes I'd hear her up late at night... crying.

She began changing somehow. I don't know; it's like she was this other person. She seemed to be coming slowly unravelled. Just like a cable-knit sweater caught in a car door... and the car was quickly driving away with the haste of a jackal.

One night she came home later than usual. She logged on to the Tirade and attempted to read the post about the cars and stuff running on piss, and she just snapped.

"Why is this blog so damn dark????!!!???" she screamed throughout the house. "Whyyyy is the column width so long on the right-hand side???!!!??"

Her voice was like that of a banshee... rising up from the pits of hell itself.

She immediately reached for the axe that we always keep in the living room and proceeded to pulverize the computer with the strength of a mighty lumberjack robot bulldozer. It was just a pile (no, a HEAP) of sparking wires and circuits and stuff. I just kept staring at that heap... thinking to myself... later, I could probably build a sweet vibrator out of all that stuff.

Anyway, she had this look of total murder in her eyes and she looked at all of us and screamed, "Damn you, McClane, and your dark blue blog from hell!!! You've damned us all!!!!" ... and she ran straight towards us with the axe.

We were fortunately able to overpower her, mostly because she weighs 300 lbs and she's really, really slow. We basically just ran into the kitchen area and by the time she got there, we had already rigged up this awesome booby trap out of a rolling pin, some coat hangers and a cast-iron skillet.

We all felt really bad about what we'd done, though, so we all went out for ice cream afterwards. On the way to the ice cream parlor, our whole family was attacked by wild dogs. Those animals shredded up the whole family like a starving homeless guy would shred up a 24 oz. steak and six pack of beer. I was able to escape by doing this sweet ninja flip over the van and into some nearby bushes, where I made a bow & arrow out of some tree limbs and vines I found. From there I killed the dogs, skinned them alive and made their hides into this awesome sweater / coat thing just like Conan the Barbarian in that movie with James Earl Jones.

Anyway, would you mind re-designing your blog? It's what my mom would have wanted.

Before those dogs.

Sincerely,

Billy in Canada

______________________

Billy... I just made your mom's dying wish come true.

Welcome to the all-new, easy-to-read, smoothed out Tirade with power steering, power windows, anti-lock breaks, passenger-side airbag and if you lick your screen right now, it'll taste like Orange Kool-Aid.

Let me know what you think about the new design, readers, and I'll see you on the flip side.

Love always,

-James Earl Jones

Non-Humans are welcome on the Tirade

Hey blog team,

Man, are you guys pretty stoked about this new film "District 9" or what? I'm pretty excited about it myself. They just released a new Featurette for it that's got me pretty pumped.

I'd swing over to the official website and take a taste of that stew. This is also interesting.

Also scope out the official trailer below. If all this jazz won't get you fired up to see it... well then you should go to THIS link for something more along your tastes.

Check this trailer:

See ya at the movies in a few weeks, suckas!

-McClane

They're comin' for ya, Florida!!!

Hey fellow giant snake lovers!

Yes, again, all three of you.

It's important to keep you up-to-date on the newest giant snake developments. (Or, as my sister calls 'em, "Old Mr. No-Shoulders.")

Looks like you guys in Florida are in for a huge treat!!! Apparently, tens of thousands of Pythons are crawling their way through your area, and quickly becoming the newest top-of-the-food-chain predators in the entire state. Keep an eye on your dogs, livestock, children and any mad scientists who might have a bunch of toxic waste lyin' around. Those items always serve as a recipe for disaster when it comes to giant snakes.

If all else fails, call THIS guy. He has a special technique for capturing these vicious predators that mostly involve him "hittin 'em upside the head a couple of times."

Hey man, whatever works for ya.

-Jeff Corwin

P.S. I know this blog post has probably terrified a lot of you, especially you poor bastards living in Florida next to some chicken plant or evil swamp or dog shelter or a cabin in the swamp full of teens having pre-marital sex who brought their dogs with 'em. (Giant snakes love all that stuff.) So, to lighten the mood, I thought this might help.

The key to this video is watching it no less than five times in a row. Any less than that, it's just sad and/or cute. After that fifth time, it's a damn riot.

Who's watching more porn?

Women. Porn.

What's the connection? How's it all fit together?

I bet Oprah can tell us.

Let me know what you think, guys. I really value your opinions. And your taste in porn.

Love ya!

-M

Travel through time...

Hey readers,

Please, tell me what the hell this is about?

Warning: this trailer will cuss at you (a lot) so don't turn your volume up super loud when you watch this at work. Because I know all you fools sneak and read this blog at work. It's more exciting that way, isn't it? Like you're doing something you shouldn't be doing. Almost kind of a thrill, isn't it? Breaking the rules. You're a rule breaker. A rebel. A renegade. I salute you, reader. Break those rules... feel the adrenaline. Let it course through your veins.

Anyway, watch your volume on this one. If you're reading this at home... crank it up, fool.

You make the call on that one.

-M

Bust me out of this prison!

Readers, you know I can't leave you for long.

My commitment to write a blog post every single day until August 1st still rages on!!!! A lot of you will notice the date of this thing and totally think I didn't make a post on Friday. But in my mind... and also in California, it's still Friday, so this blog totally counts. So put that on your stove and boil it, haters.

Moving on, somehow, it's important to note that it's been a horrifically long day here in the McClane fortress. Being on deadline will do strange things to men.

When you're on a deadline, you're more powerful than you could have ever imagined. You take a bottle of life, drink it in, and it gives you the most amazing abilities ever. You can see things that no other man can see... do things no other man can do. Time becomes completely suspended around you. Your heart races. Your butt cheeks clench. Your grip on the mouse gets tighter. Your neck hurts. It can betray you. It feels like it might actually break away from your body, punch you in the jaw and back and run down the street for a quickie from the local neck prostitute.

Two necks... gettin' it on behind the dumpster across from the Fazzoli's.

Oh yeah, deadline also makes you completely blind and absolutely delirious.

Since my eyes have actually turned into two dried-out, 2-day old pancakes left out in the sun, I'm gonna bounce of this death machine for a little while and look out my window. Just out my window there is the outside world. Soon I'll be able to go there. Sweet freedom is only days away.

In the mean time, if anybody wants to bring me a giant hot dog or a big ass cake with a file in it, I could use the help to bust out of this desolate apartment prison.

Wait for me readers... wait for me on the outside. I promise I'll write you letters every single day until I can get out early, possibly for good behavior. If not... I've already started my tunnel.

Are conjugal visits legal in Tennessee?

Holla!

-M

Did I just read that right?

Hey English language lovers,

Last night I ran into a pretty enormous pet peeve of mine that irritated me to the point of standing up at my desk and pointing at my monitor like that monkey from Family Guy.

In college, I was a journalism major and a writing minor (you'd think I'd learned my lesson with these huge-ass run-on sentences, huh?), so I guess that gives me some kind of license. Well, not really. College was a long time ago and I've forgotten all that jazz anyway. Wait, did I even GO to college?

Anyway, what do I hate more than Nick Cage movies but not as much as Old People Drivers?

THE BLATANT MISSPELLING OF WORDS FOR BUSINESS NAMES!!!!!!!

Don't act confused, I know you've seen 'em all. Let's go down the list of some of the most infamous:

• Kar Kare

• Kraft

• Kidz Tyme
• Qwest
• Fatz Cafe
• Toys R Us
• Steak N Shake
• Whataburger
• Chick-fil-A
• Fatburger
• In-N-Out Burger
• Hot N Now
• Krispy Kreme
• Maid-Rite
• Tastee Freez
• Pick Up Stix
• Dunkin Donuts

There's also this group of names that blatantly misuses apostrophes:

• General Mills Milk 'n Cereal Bars

• Linens-n-things
• Nature Valley Oats 'N Honey granola bars
• Soft & Dri
• Sweet 'N Low
• Tim Hortons
• Starbucks
• Shake 'N Bake

That's just a short list.

Why the hell do these people do this? Did they smoke an extra big joint in the bathroom before going in to the big "it's time to name our business name" meeting? Did they let their 4-year old name their business? Who are these people? Did they all come from other countries and decide to name their businesses only two days into their "You Can Learn English, Too!" class?

Is it to grab attention for potential customers? Do they pray on idiots who never passed simple elementary English classes? Do they do it for mountain people who taught themselves to read by studying the backs of Cheetos bags?

The scary ones are the ones that've been around so long (Krispie Kreme maybe?) that society has just totally accepted 'em as being correct. That's pretty scary, isn't it? The power of marketing will suck your brains out. Like a deadly harpoon vacuum cleaner. That is, a vacuum that sucks with the accuracy of a harpoon.

I think I'll create a business out of that line. I'll call it "Harpune Vakume" and make a fortune in the Stoque Marquet.

(Editor's Note: This is actually really funny right now, because every time I type out one of these business names, it throws in that awesome red "misspelled" line under the name.)

Man, I bet you can find a whole ton out there in the real world in your city. That's right, all three of you who read this blog!!!! Next time you drive down the strip, take a look. You'd never even notice unless you really pay attention.

Basically, it's exactly like Rowdy Roddy Piper in that awesome John Carpenter movie. You put on those glasses and you'll start seeing some crazy misspellings. And also people with terrifying zombie-alien faces who want your blood. PUT ON THOSE GLASSES!!!!!

So what do I plan on doing about all this crap? Not too much, unfortunately. The real question is how do I sleep at night???

Well, here's how: I've constructed this sweet model of a city built completely to scale. Along "Main Street," I've used some whittled-down popsicle sticks and trimmed-up cardboard boxes to build several business signs with misspelled names. (I've hand painted each logo with a tiny acrylic brush in painstaking detail. The Toys R Us logo was the most challenging with that god-forsaken giraffe man.)

Next, I'm going to take this fantastic Arnold Schwarzenegger action figure from Terminator 2 and set up a scenario where his wife has asked him to go pick up some facial cream and deodorant from the nearest Walgreens. (No apostrophe.) He also has to take some movies back on the way (one of which is DMX Carnivorous).

He comes to Main Street with his Roddy Piper glasses on, and starts to notice something strange... all these business signs are MISSPELLED!!!!! "Holy shit," he says to himself. "Somebody's got to stop this mess before our entire nation turns into non-grammar abiding lazy moronic idiots!!!!" (Sorry Arnold figure, too late for that, bud.) I actually tell him, "Sorry Arnold figure, too late for that, bud."

He is not pleased.

Taking this tiny bow I made for him out of a paper clip and rubber band (Gremlins 2), he lights up a match and fires an exploding, flaming arrow straight into the "Kar Kare" sign. Immediately bursting into flames, there's an explosion just like when that Rambo guy blows up that gas station in First Blood. (I've also taken steps to pour a bunch of vinegar in some baking soda behind the building with some red food coloring so it looks just like this giant splash of human blood comes seeping and pouring out of the little cardboard shop into the street.)

It doesn't stop there. Krispie Kreme gets a pushpin knife through the front of the building and Chick-Fil-A gets annihilated with a wrecking ball made of a marble, some scotch tape and a twist tie from a loaf of bread.

I've also planted a few little plastic Halloween skeletons in a building with some match tips and little pieces of styrofoam for skin... so when one of his flaming arrows goes in the Dunkin Donuts shop, these little skeletons run out into the street completely engulfed in flames... it looks just like their skin is melting off because of the styrofoam. Also, they're yelling and screaming in pain. (I recorded some audio from Friday the 13th part 6 and played it back on a little tape recorder hidden behind the Tastee Freez.)

At the end of the night, needless to say, Arnold completely forgot about the deodorant, but he came away with something much, much more satisfying:

Justice.

I'll clean up this mess in the morning. After I sleep like a baby.

Boycott, complain, fight back or make obscene gestures at the 16-year-old chick running the register at Linens-n-Things. Do whatever you have to do. It's obvious we're never going to get our revenge on these corporate idiots. I hope the billions of dollars that they've all collectively made from their misspelled company names are worth it.

Later on readers. I'm going to go taque kare o' bizzness.

Muah.

-M

One, Two... Somebody's comin' for ya.

Hey horror fans,

The good 'ole Comic Con's already slingin' out the goods tonight, and this is one of the coolest things I've seen yet.

Last year, they unveiled the awesome new Friday the 13th poster, which ripped out my intestines. This year, we get this piece of genius. I gotta tell you, I'm not even a big fan of this guy, but as a die hard obsessor of movie posters... this is seriously badass.

Sweet dreams guys!

-M

You're totally a ball buster.

What's up 1970's board game lovers,

I have no idea why, but I just thought of this commercial.

One of the best ever.

Exacting like pool 4 life,

-McClane

Hee. Hawwwwwww.

Howdy faithful readers!

All three of you.

I'm crazy busy today, so not much time for discussing the creepy mysteries of giant, carnivorous blobs, some movie about making crafts or war or something, or how much I hate gigantic SUVs.

No, we're just going to get right down to the point and watch this:

I think we call could use a good laugh today.

Hold it in the road, readers.

All three of you.

-M

P.S. Thanks for the link, Jules.

P.P.S. The guy at the end of the video who says, "It's strange what will stray into a field if somebody leave the gate open" is absolutely terrifying. However, he seems like he'd be very wise and could point you in the right direction if you were on some kind of quest or something.

...Or he'd maybe devour the very skin off your body. By sneaking into your house undetected and hovering above your bed with that ominous raven on his shoulder.

"Wake up," he'd whisper in the darkness.

Your eyes would be flung open, just in time to see his razor-sharp teeth closing in on your face... and the last sound you'd ever hear would be the ripping and tearing noise made by his jaws as they peeled your flesh away from your bones like a piece of velcro tape.

But dude, Johnny Cash was hilarious.

Chicks love scars. Even on Jupiter.

Watch your backs, readers, there's a mystery afoot.

So basically, our allies on Jupiter got the living hell knocked out of them recently when this massive sledge hammer of a comet, space rock or Mega Maid smashed into the side of their planet like a runaway shopping cart.

Have you seen the pictures of this thing? It's pretty scary stuff, really. Check out this insane comparison between the scar and the planet Earth:



Yeah, does that give you the creeps or what? Well, put that image in your pipe and smoke it, because here's a new image that will REALLY mess you up, son:



That's right. You see where I'm going with this??

A lot of you probably don't even know about the "Willis Project: 3000" that was developed by NASA in late 1999. Because of that whole Y2K debacle, the powers-that-be decided that we needed a stronger form of global defense put in place to guard against stuff like comets, planet-eating cosmic villains (a.k.a. Galactus), planet-eating Transformers (a.k.a. Unicron) or a revenge plot launched by Mars for that Tim Burton movie.

This recipe for protection called for the one thing that saved us time and time again from global catastrophe, German terrorists and awkward M. Night Shyamalan movies: Bruce Willis. They started building this massive robot up in space, but they only finished the head before the whole thing was sabotaged by terrorists and a total lack of government funding. (Apparently the government guys thought some crap about the economy or education or something was more important than a giant intergalactic robot duplicate of Bruce Willis. Don't ask ME what's wrong with this picture, readers!)

Anyway, so NASA thought it would be kind of funny to just jettison the thing out in space to see what kind of genius comedy would ensue. Well... 10 years later, it looks like it's not so funny after all, is it? You satisfied now, NASA??

Mystery solved? You make the call, readers.

I'm not being completely closed-minded here, though. It might have just been a dangerous asteroid or something. My mind doesn't have the sharp complexities to be able to hand out answers like candy at some homecoming parade. All I can offer, unfortunately, is more questions. Was NASA behind this after all? Did the Willis Project: 3000 program actually get decommissioned? Where are the Germans in all this?? What's Frank Stallone been up to these days?

Write your congressman or woman today, readers, and urge them not to give up on Project Willis: 3000. It could be the only thing keeping us from getting bitch-slapped by some giant alien guy's discarded beer can. No time for animal-cracker lovin', Ben Affleck.

The hand of God is swift and sure, my friends. Act while you can and don't blame me if you wake up tomorrow in a crater and/or hell.

Love ya!

-M

P.S. Awesome note: In a remarkable twist of fate, the discovery was made on the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing and the 15th anniversary of another large comet strike on Jupiter.

Drive... Stop Zombies... now with PEE!

Readers, you're the wind beneath my wings.

So let's imagine a world where pissing in somebody's gas tank would actually help that victim save money on their next trip to the pump.

Let's also imagine a world where, when you pull up to the pump, you fill up your tank with 15 straight gallons of human piss.

Let's take it a step further. Let's say you want to steal somebody's gas and you need to siphon the rest of their fuel into your handy gas can. Yeah, that's right... you're gonna totally end up with piss in your mouth, bud. Probably a lot of it, too.

Even further. You're being chased by zombies and one of the best ways to slow them down is to set them on fire. You reach for a nearby gas can and sling the liquid all over them. Lighting a match and throwing it on 'em, you say a really sweet one-liner. Use one of these:

"This'll warm ya up, son!"

"It'll be a hot time in the old town tonight, my man!"

"See ya in hell, bucko!"

"Smoky The Bear can't save you tonight, sucka!"

"Try this 'FRIENDLY FIRE' on for size, scum!"

"Burn baby burn! You're in a Disco Inferno!!!"

"Uh oh, looks like Matt McClane neglected his blog again!!"

"You're in the smokin' section now, fool!!"

"This Sex is on Fire, Leon!"

"Guess you slept through the fire drill back in the 4th grade, idiot!"

"Looks like I've got money to burn... and YOU'RE the money, chump!!"

"I don't support the FIRE-ARMS ban, you dumb, dead bastard!!"

"I fight fire with fire, moron... too bad you don't have any!!!"

And, of course, the most obvious & best line ever for this type of thing: "YOU'RE FIRED!!!!"

Anyway, after that awesome show of badass-ness, the match that you've just thrown at them does absolutely nothing because what you THOUGHT was gasoline was actually just piss.

Don't think I'm kidding about this, readers, or that I came up with this idea myself. No, this kind of thing might happen sometime down the road in our near future.

(Although it would have been awesome if I DID think of it. If one of my ideas could turn out to be this useful to humanity, I should totally go public with my "It would be awesome if mankind could somehow walk on the moon" idea.)

CHECK OUT THIS POST to see what I mean. Pretty damn interesting theories here, actually. It's kinda awesome if you think about it... all our problems with that Middle East stuff could be cured by drinking 2 gallons of sweet tea every day with four cranberry pills.

We could drive across the entire country with a case of High Life and a podcast with steady, constant noises of a cool mountain stream in the Rockies.

Gettin' 'er done,

-M

P.S. "Taste my flames, Drew Barrymore!!!!"

No neglecting for me!

Cómo estás readers?

Okay okay, so it's been recently brought to my attention that my constant neglecting of this blog is causing children (or probably just kittens or guys standing up on motorcycles) in Asia or somewhere to die or catch on fire.

Don't ask me how this kind of thing works!!! I'm not some kind of scientist or genius mathematician. No sir, I'm just a normal, everyday guy trying to make his way through this harsh and cruel world of giant jellyfish, horrifying unemployment, moths jamming bats' sonar and Brad Pitt's insightful views on 21st Century etiquette. But trust me when I say that every day I don't post up a post, somebody turns into a flailing, human mushroom cloud forged out of a flaming disco inferno.

Here, check out this poor bastard and see what I mean. This clip was taken right after my post about some Jamie Foxx video. I didn't follow up with a new post right away, and this happened:

However, all that aside, this Tirade-neglecting problem has got to stop. So therefore, readers, I have committed to making a post on this blog every single day until August 1st. God willing, on August the 1st I'll be taking something resembling a vacation to somewhere that's not the bathroom in my apartment. (Although the bathroom is kind of nice this time of year. I have this sweet Elvis picture in there and also a Hawaiian shower curtain.)





I'm not promising to deliver interesting information like the Bible on these days, of course. I'm also not promising to throw out some sweet new enlightenment for your life or even steps to help you kick your gambling addiction. I'm also not promising to help you figure out how to make your own soap, cheese or mayonnaise. There's going to be no semblance of any instruction on how to win a fight against a bully, get your life back together after a horrifying break up or grow a better mustache.

Instead it'll probably be a bunch of busted YouTube videos with some lame commentary about 'em... or maybe even some insight into my life or something. My life, eh?

Isn't it weird how I never talk about my life on this blog? Do you have a problem with that? Really? I wonder about that sometimes. Every now and then I'll throw out some handy nuggets of information, but I'd really prefer to keep my life—along with my biker friends and wolves who raised me since birth—out of the internet world.

In a new time when people are twittering about every aspect of their lives for some reason, I'll totally be that guy who doesn't take it seriously and shrouds his life in mystery and suspense. Well, actually, now that I just re-read that, it sounds pretty lame. Maybe some day I'll reveal a bunch of personal crap, even down to the cereal I plan on eating in just a few minutes.*

Anyway, come on back to the Tirade and experience what's never happened before... 11 straight days of posts. It'll be just like one of those hilarious bricks from Super Mario Brothers that just keeps spitting out floating coins at you every time you brutally and repetitively smash your head up against it.

Sometimes, though, one of those glowing, flashing stars will fly out of there at you, and you go on a total invincible killing spree, destroying everyone and everything in sight. Why don't you try that shit out next time you're on your way to the grocery store or dentist's office.

Anyway, I'm out, yo. See you fools tomorrow!

-M

*Fruit Loops