I ran across this little gem in my notebook the other day.  I think the format will explain itself in short order, for those of you who don’t know how this kind of story is written.

Legend:
MightyThor
MrHattyHat
Atticusser

   It had been two weeks since my death, and amid all the things that had changed, at least for me, two things had remained the same for those long 14 days: that old guy down on the bench by the bus stop was still staring at me with those creepy bug-eyes, and I was still really thirsty…
   “Get off my train!” the old man suddenly shouted.
   “Hey, wait a minute…” I replied suspiciously. “That’s a different movie!”
   Shamed, the old man committed hara-kiri right there on the bench. As his lifeless body slumped over on the bench, I watched as his soul awoke and looked around, smacking his lips with a dry click.
   “Man, you got any water?” he asked me.
   “No. Let’s go find a drink.” And off we went in search of liquid to satiate the thirst of the dead.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked at me with those buggy eyes.
   “Hey…wait…Oh no!” He exclaimed.
   ”What?” I asked.
   “There goes Yoko Ono!”
   He pointed at a duck that was waddling in the other direction.
   “You’re an idiot.” I said.
   “Quack!” said the duck.
   We walked a little farther. All the time I was trying to figure out how to ditch this loser, but he looked pretty fast, so I couldn’t come up with anything. 
   Just then the bus pulled up.
   “I guess we only walked from one end of the bench to the other,” the other guy astutely pointed out.
   We got on the bus. It was carrying 300 Iranian Spartans.
   “Are you just writing whatever MightyThor says?” I asked myself. I ignored me and turned to the bus driver, who said…
   “Well, you want an engraved invitation or what?”
   “What?” I said. “You can see me?”
   “Who are you talking to?” said hara-kiri man.
   “The bus driver,” I explained. “I think he can see us!”
   “Yeah, he’s totally looking at your crotch, brother.”
   “Well? In or out, pal? This bus has a schedule to keep,” said the bus driver, apparently accustomed to addressing others respectfully by way of the crotch, in Iranian Spartan tradition.
   “Is this some sort of special bus that transports disembodied spirits between metaphysical worlds?” I asked.
   “Quack!” came the response from my crotch. The duck was standing in the midst of my disembodied self, with its head situated somewhere in the core of my pelvic region.
   You can imagine my disappointment, but it gave me an idea…
   Quickly, I grabbed the duck by the feet and swung it over my head. Setting it back down, it looked up at me with crossed eyes and said, “Man, it’s windy in here.”
   “Well, that didn’t work,” I said to myself. Undeterred, I poked the bus driver in the eyes, tripped the old man and leapt from the bus. Only then did I realize that the bus was flying at 30,000 feet.
   “Typical,” I said with disgust, and busied myself fashioning a makeshift glider out of my pants and the duck.
   “If only I had…
   …not died!” I lamented belatedly and at the most inconvenient time.
   “You didn’t,” said the duck. “You suffer from a condition that makes you believe you are dead when in actuality you are very much alive.”
   “What?” I exclaimed.
   “I mean, ‘Quack!’”
   Then I hit the ground with the duck underneath me.
   “I guess my duck-pants glider didn’t work,” I stated. “Luckily the duck broke my fall.”
   “You’re an idiot,” said the duck posthumously.
   “Quack!” I replied.

   P.S. That duck was pretty much a jerk anyway.

Gorrific (adj): Gory meets terrific.  Generally used only in the context of Sci Fi Original Pictures.

 - Contributed by Atticusser

Before I get into the writing of any actual movie reviews, I think it’s important that I lay out my philosophy about movies in general, so here goes.

I’m not a picky movie viewer.  What I look for, first and foremost, is to be entertained.  When I sit down in a theater (or in front of the TV or with a new video game or a book), I’m looking to be engaged by the characters and drawn into their world and their story for a while.  Movies have it easy, comparatively.  They only have to hold my attention for the span of about 2 hours.  If I’m looking at my watch partway through, they’re not doing their job very well. With that in mind, you’d think it would be a fairly simple matter to tell an engaging story that will make me glad I took the time to watch.  That seems harder and harder for Hollywood to actually pull off, though. 

So my perspective on reviewing movies comes down to how much money do I think this movie was worth paying to see.  My rating system breaks down like this:

One Film to Rule them All (AKA: The Brass Ring): This movie was good enough to justify waiting in a huge line  on a weekend night, selling a kidney to pay for tickets for you and most likely a date (who will surely want candy and popcorn that the theater must have imported from France or outer space, judging by the prices), and then spending two and a half hours crammed into a seat between Fatty J. McLard and Allison, the world record contender for the most cell phone text transmissions in an hour.  It takes a very good movie to be worth this.

Matinee Worthy: This movie was good enough that it really deserves to be experienced on the big screen, but you can muster up the patience to see it during the day when the tickets are cheaper and the crowds are thinner (with the exception of Mr. McLard, of course).

 

Video Viewer: This movie wouldn’t be wasting your hard earned dollar if you picked it up at your local Redbox to fill an otherwise unoccupied Friday night.

Devo it: If it comes around on TV, pick it up on the Tivo (or if you’re like me, your local cable company DVR that you call Devo) and give it a go.  You can skip the commercials and delete it if it bores you.

TSPYTWTLM: They Should Pay You To Watch This Lame Movie.  Seriously, avoid it unless you’re looking for some home-spun MST3K action with your friends.

Let me start this post with an assertion: everything contained herein can be backed up by three witnesses (Mike Woffinden, Trent Davies, and Jacob “Cubsy” Lords).

This is definitely the shot of the day, and it would have been the hole of the day, had it not been for the inherent complexities of this particular shot.  You see, this was on hole #14 on the beautiful Mountain Course at Wasatch Mountain State Park.  The hole is a fantastic downhill par 5 that measures 529 yards from the blue tees, where we were playing.  I crushed the ball off the tee, landing just left of the fairway exactly level with the 150 yard marker.  That’s a 379 yard drive for all you non-mathletic types.  It was very impressive, I must say. 

Unfortunately, I had no look at the green from my resulting approach angle, so I had to play up to the right.  I had a solid 8 iron shot right into the base of a small pine tree above and to the right of the green.  When I went to look for my ball, however, it was not at the base of the tree as I had expected. 

 So this tree took what would have been a very birdie-able hole and turned it into a double bogey.  I had no angle to hit the ball out of the tree except to crouch beneath the branch and uppercut it with my wedge, hitting the ball back over my head about ten yards.  Lousy tree.  Even so, it was one of the more memorable shots I’ve ever had to hit. 

The other good news was that I shot a 93 (47/46).  It could have been better, but for me that ain’t half bad.  It’s much better than what I’ve been shooting so far this year.  If I can shoot an average of 45 on 9 holes, I’m pleased with my game.  So hooray for me.

I’m only kind of a geek. For being a professional geek, I’m not that geeky. I’m not really into gadgets or mobile computing. I have tried the texting, but I’m not into it all that much. I don’t read Slashdot or white papers or other technical publications. I basically spend my weekdays in the world of computers (pronounced com-PYOO-ters) only long enough to support my golf habit.

Funny thing is, I’m not that good a golfer either. I mean, I’m pretty good, relatively speaking (I’m an 8 for those interested), but I’m not turning pro this year or anything. The important thing is that this year I’m better than I was last year, a trend which has persisted for the past 6 years or so, which is about as long as I’ve been golfing very seriously.

I can’t imagine a more perfect life, however. Well, obviously if we’re talking about no-holds-barred ideals, I can imagine some improvements. For one thing, I’d be a heck of a lot richer. And my abs would be harder, like in the old days of 23. But considering the reality of the world we live in, I really couldn’t be much happier. My wife is stunning and brilliant and funny and all the things most men only wish for. We have a humble little home in a great neighborhood, surrounded by good people and golf courses. For the most part I work on my own terms.

Some might say my existence is kind of unremarkable, even boring. To you I say, only from the outside looking in.

I guess I should comment on the name. It comes from a 7-year-old Chinese boy that I met in Montreal some years ago. He had a large collection of stuffed animals, all of unique and imaginative names. This particular one was a bear with a funny hat on. I asked his name, to which the boy replied, “Mr. Hatty Hat.”

“Oh, Mr. Haddy Hat,” I said, softening the T’s as we American’s are wont to do in pronouncing T’s.

“No!” he corrected sternly. “Mr. HaTTy Hat,” making sure to emphasize the hard T sound.

Needless to say, I never made that mistake again, and I have been true to the integrity of the name ever since, correcting those who would mispronounce it.

Like in the case of my friend and fellow Word conspirator, Donjuanica, when I it came time to register a name on IM and other web services, I had difficulty finding anything remotely related to my real name that wasn’t taken. So, in a fit of frustration, I tried MrHattyHat. No suprise, it worked.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

P.S. I’m far and away the funniest of the Word bunch, so read us all, but if you’re looking for something to really laugh at, look at me.

I’m a self professed geek currently employed at Omniture.  I’m an entrepreneur at heart but I can’t seem to break away from the man (the current man treats me pretty well though…Omniture is a fun place to work).  I’m 30-something and living the American Dream — complete with wife, suburban home, 1.6 kids (rounded up) and 2 SUVs.

I like to run, bike, golf, play Guitar player wannabe video games (GH*, Rock Band) and spend time with the family.  I’m working on a SWEET business plan that will make me (and Thor) rich and famous.

The nickname Donjuanica started as Donjuan but that name was always taken whenever I tried to sign up for a new web service.  It was also much too generous in describing my success with the fairer sex.  The “ica” was added while joking around about the Adam Sandler Channukah song at a company holiday party.  Now, if you google Donjuanica chances are you’ll find me.

My posts will be better than the other Last Wordicans so set up a filter now.

I Watch: Lost, The Office, Supernatural, American Idol, Bones, Law and Order, Scrubs.

I Read: The Lord of the Rings (again), Prince Caspian (again), A Train to Potevka

I Play: Unreal Tournament 2004, Titan Quest, Anything by Blizzard Entertainment, Settlers of Catan.

I Am: A storyteller in the form of creative fiction (mostly novels), critical of grammar and spelling errors (especially in digital media where people seem to throw such things to the winds), easily bored.

I Have: A smokin’ hot wife and a dang freaking awesome little boy.

That should be enough to scratch the surface, but if you want to know the real me, well I guess you’ll just have to tune in regularly.  I figure sooner or later I’ll put a little too much of myself into this blog and it will become an entity unto itself.  Then we’ll end up in a battle to the death to determine which of us has the right to be the only me.  It will be very confusing.  I’m thinking of getting Jean Claude Van Damme to play me in the movie, because he seems to play two versions of himself a lot.

Welcome, citizens of the greater Blogosphere, to The Last Word Blog, one of the many pointing, prodding fingers of The Last Word. Feel free to visit as often or as seldom as you like. The Last Word will continue blogging whether you read it or not.

Carry on.