Why I Don't Trust Renee Zellweger

Ladies and Gentlemen, for the longest time, I've found myself put off by Renee Zellweger. I couldn't place my finger on what exactly. Perhaps it's her overall lack of talent or perhaps the "Bugger off, I'm Renee Zellweger" better-than-you air that surrounds her. Either way, for years I've found myself avoiding any movie she's involved with (the exception, of course, being Empire Records because Mark and Lucas are just that cool). Today I figured out why my instincts told me not to listen to her.

She's not human.

Let's look at her face, shall we. 

You see that face. It's the same face you always see on her. That "I just ate a lemon and I am confused by everything" face. 

The only logical reason for her to have this face on at ALL times is if she has, in fact, always just eaten a lemon and is, in fact, confused by everything. You see, lemon juice is an acid. A person cannot consume so much acid without causing a serious imbalance in the digestive system. That is, of course, unless her body chemistry is much more acidic than a human body. You see, blood is basic. Not that it's a simple thing, but it is a base, and bases neutralize acids. As such, Miss Zellweger must consume additional acids to counteract the bases pumping through her system. Still, a human does not find his body's blood neutralizing all of his acids. 

Why would blood, which should be in her body, act against the body carrying it> Because her body is synthetic. She's an android with real, though grown and grafted, flesh covering her mechanical insides, much like the Terminator. Thus the blood, though necessary to feed the grafted skin tissue, then, is not natural to her body. As such, it attacks and neutralizes the acids in her body. Battery acids. She must consume large quantities of lemon, then, to counteract the anti-acidic properties of the blood's basic nature. The constant influx of lemon juice prevents the accelerated wear on her batteries.

This also explains her constant state of confusion. The reason androids disguise themselves as human, the only reason I've ever seen, is to learn about us, to gain information, or as it's called in military applications, intelligence. She's working for those robots trying to figure us out. Trying to bring us down. We need Edward Furlong and Christian Bale to immediately drop her post haste. And they should probably take out Schwarzenegger too. Sure he's governor of California and all, but on at least three different occasions he's portrayed a robot bent on world domination. Ergo, he can't be trusted either.

You have been informed.

Your secrets have been compromised.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I slept terribly and dreamt of 3-d glasses. I know there were 3-d commercials during last night's "super bowl." I did not watch them. Because I did not watch the "super bowl." For previously discussed reasons. And yet, I dreamt about getting those darn red and blue glasses. I think NBC and Sobe have teamed up to ensure that I be advertised to no matter what. I didn't watch their silly commercials for their silly 3-d episode of Chuck. Instead, I watched five hours of buildup to them during five hours of obnoxious "Super Bowl" pre-show at work on screens whose size is measured in feet rather than inches. Double digit feet. NBC wanted to make sure I saw those commercials. They provided me with huge TVs they hoped I couldn't resist. They forced me to work during all of the pre-show hype for the commercials. They even convinced my boss to make me stay late for no good reason in hopes I'd see their silly 3-d commercials. Still, I resisted. I made my escape shortly before "The Big Game" started. I thwarted their attempts, and so they used dream-control technology to make me dream of their gimmick. 

Why, though, is what I want to know. Let's see, shall we> The commercials were for Sobe (with assistance from the movie Monsters versus Aliens) and for Chuck. I doubt very much that Sobe was part of the message. That bit was just for the money. It is a commercial after all. That leaves us with a trailer for a movie about monsters versus aliens and an ad for a show about a guy whose brain is accidentally the unwitting recipient of all of our nations most closely guarded secrets. All in 3-d. 

The purpose of 3-d is, of course, to make things appear as though they are really present. The purpose then is to either A) convince me that something typically assumed fake is real, or b) convince me that something typically considered real is fake. We have a trailer about monsters versus aliens, both of which are generally perceived to be not real. Clearly, this is meant to tell us that the message is meant to be interpreted as "Fake is really real." 

That leaves one final part to the message. Chuck is the only remaining piece of the message to fit into this puzzle. This show tells the story of a man whose brain somehow downloads all of the CIA's databases. Sure, it broadcasts as an actiony sitcom. I think, however, that NBC wanted me to get the message that the show is actually a true story. There really is a man out there carrying all of our most closely guarded secrets in his electronics store brain. 

Hmmm... but we all know that aliens really are real and the CIA is covering it all up. So maybe I was supposed to interpret that the other way. Hmmm... but that would mean monsters are real. And the CIA knows it! And a guy had this knowledge dumped into his frontal lobe like so much wrapping paper at the city dump the day after Christmas. Except, you know, the CIA files are more useful and more likely to get you hunted down and killed for retrieving. 

NBC invaded (and advertised in) my dreams to tell me that there is a man out there whose brain has been filled with CIA secrets, including those pertaining to the existence of both aliens AND monsters (and evidently, their impending war, for which we should all prepare. Note: Zombies are monsters and I've been warning about the zombies coming for years. Which means, the aliens might save us from them, unless of course Monsters versus Aliens is like Aliens versus Predators, in which case we all lose). NBC, thank you for facilitating my search for the truth, even if you did have to advertise in my dream to do it. I must find this super knowledgeable man and get those secrets the CIA is hiding so... hidingly.

You have been informed.

Preparing for the End and Jealous Birds

Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for my absence yesterday. I had to work, and following the news of the Nazi zombie attack on Austin, I felt the need to prepare. Yesterday, I gathered several of my closest friends and ran tactical simulations for defense against zombies, particularly building and holding a tactical perimeter. What I've learned is that cars make pretty good makeshift barricades against zombies. They aren't so good at climbing over things and they can't open the doors to crawl through. I also learned that it doesn't matter how cool you are or how useful you may be as a defensive sniper, jumping from rooftop to rooftop is very bad idea. In other words, if you must snipe from the rooftops, find a good roof and stay on it. You are not an action hero. You will fall and knock yourself unconscious and be eaten by zombies. You're going to want to stage your cars early, for quick and easy access. Bring a couple extras just in case. It's no good making a barricade of cars of you have a two foot gap. Yes, it will bottleneck them, but still, it's only a matter of time before your gun jams, and then the zombies will start pouring through. If it's a big area, you're going to want at least 15 people, ten to move cars and other barricade materials, and at least five people to defend them.

I also helped bake a tasty cake yesterday.

I would also like to share with you an important fact. Birds hate airplanes. How often in the news lately have we seen planes crash or planes grounded because of birds? (aside from the Hudson River landing, because we know what that was really about.) The fact of the matter is that birds are jealous. They don't have a monopoly on air travel anymore and it's driving them nuts. So crazy, in fact, that many are committing suicide by flying into airplane windows and jet intakes just to take man out of the sky. Driven by the kamikaze spirit, these birds will do anything to keep their sky kingdom free of human invaders. I must assume that this recent rash of anti-human activity stems from some regime change. The previous, more peaceful ruler of the birds must have died and was replaced by a more radical and militant monarch. I say, those of you who have birds as pets, find out what they know. Get them talking. I hear it's easiest with parrots.

You have been informed.

They're coming.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the zombies are coming. Or at least, they were in Texas over the weekend. Two electronic road signs were modified to display the messages, "Caution! Zombies Ahead! Run for Cold Climates! The End is Near!" and "Nazi Zombies Ahead! Run!" 

Austin police call it a prank, but I am not amused. We all know that the zombie plague is coming. Clearly, there was an outbreak. There were zombies, Nazi zombies at that, and some upright citizen decided to warn the population. But no, the government with its coverups decided that just because the immediate zombie threat was neutralized by their clandestine zombie-killing squads, people should be kept in the dark. Rather than tell us the truth of the looming apocalypse so that we may better prepare ourselves, they've called it a prank so that we'll be docile and won't rush out to get guns and supplies and more importantly, question how they allowed an outbreak in the first place. Unfortunately, if they keep leading us into a false sense of security, we'll all be grossly unable to deal with the impending zombie menace. Most of us will die, and the rest of us will have to struggle for survival with no food but what we grow in those dangerous zombie-infested open fields. 

I think we should all take a moment to thank those citizens of Austin whose dedication to truth, especially warning us about the truth of the coming zombie apocalypse, reminds us to stay on our toes. The end is near.

You have been informed.

America-Atlantis Peace Treaties

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sure you've all read and-or seen all over the news about flight 1549's breath-taking water landing in the Hudson River. The official story is that they hit some birds at 3000 feet and that took out the engines. Yeah, I don't buy it. Not even a little bit. They've recently released footage of the plane hitting the water. Do you see that landing> That is a beautiful, smooth, picture-perfect water landing for a plane not built for water landings. That pilot executed a practiced and well-rehearsed maneuver there. He knew exactly what he was doing. This was no "crash landing." The truth of the matter is, on board that plane was an ambassador from Atlantis. He was meeting with our government to discuss, well, I don't really know what he was discussing, but the Atlanteans are ok with us. Their spy from the 1950s liked Superman and he for sure put in a good for the old U.S. Likewise, he proposed to this Atlantean spy long before he considered marrying Lois Lane, so she probably put in a good word for her own motherland, the sea.

The "emergency water landing" was actually staged to return the ambassador to his home. I know, I know, there's no way Atlantis is in the Hudson River. True. The only people there are wiseguys in cement shoes. But seriously. You may remember the other day when I said Don Knotts discovered Atlantis and took the secret to his grave. That was because he was under oath from the Atlantean king (they're still a monarchy, but they do at least have representative prefecture assemblies) that he would never divulge its secret location. By dropping the Atlantean ambassador off in the Hudson River, the Atlanteans were able to ensure that no one would ever attempt to follow the diplomat home. After all, would you go swimming in the Hudson River> I wouldn't. Let us, then, take this water landing for what it is truly worth: a sign that the U.S. is not only reaching out to fellow nations and principalities of the world, but that we are actively trying to abide by their wishes rather than adopting "We can do no wrong" mentality. Things are looking up already.

You have been informed.

Oprah's First Move

Ladies and Gentlemen, just to keep you informed on the actions of Oprah Winfrey and the progress of her universal domination plan, I am sharing some news I discovered. While going out to eat with my fiancee and her mother, I overheard an advertisement for an upcoming episode of Oprah (or maybe it was for her Oprah and Friends show on XM). She said it was important that we all watch said episode together. She said she'd be introducing some very important people. She said the episode would have three hundred "of the most beautiful youths" on it to help launch her "O Ambassador Program." This can only mean one thing. The attack is coming soon.

Let's examine each of her three statements.

1. We should all watch the episode together. This means one of two things. First, the episode will contain some subliminal mind control, and if we don't watch it together, those who missed it the first go-round will see what has happened to those who did see it and will be able to form an armed underground rebellion. If we all watch it at once, we can provide no resistance. The other possibility is that she is going to give the secret order to launch her CoO Coup and anyone who misses the episode could cause the elements of her battle plan to not fall exactly into place the way she needs them too. After all, if one person's job is to detonate a bridge to prevent government military reinforcements to the Federal Resistance, it's important that that job gets done as soon as possible, preferably before the assault. At least, it's preferable if you're on Oprah's side.
2. She had some very important people. These could be leaders of her Fabulous Revolution or if my suspicions are correct, aliens, which means she plans to start the Quilting Camps soon. Why do I suspect aliens, you may ask.
3. She has three hundred "beautiful youths" for her "O Ambassador Program." Three hundred is a lot. Where could these kids possibly be sent as ambassadors> The stars, that's where. And why must they be beautiful> Because she's trying to create a master race of humanity in the stars composed of nothing but beautiful people. She's planning on using selective human breeding to make a "pure strain" of humanity. Tsk tsk, Oprah. Further, she's using youths because the human race has yet to discover FTL (Faster Than Light) propulsion systems. As such, any trip to neighboring planetary systems will take a long time. Adults won't survive the trip, but children might. She's planning on creating a master race of ubermen (and women) in the stars, ubermen (and women) who will bring with them their diseased blankets, wiping clean the face of three hundred worlds and creating outposts for the new superhuman empire of O.

Oh Oprah. You must be stopped.

You have been informed.

Women Love Men Who Lose

Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for my absence yesterday. It was very busy, and by the time I was done doing all I needed to do, I was exhausted and my fiancee was angry with me, so I could not post. I did, at least, learn something valuable.

Women love men who lose.

Yes, I know that's the subject of the post, but I figured it was important enough to bear repeating. Last night, my fiancee and I and another couple were playing a game of Descent (with the Road to Legend expansion for those who care) and they decided it would be a good idea to take on a certain major bad guy and his minions that I control. I cautioned them. All day, I had been telling them, "If you do this now, you guys will lose, and here is how it will happen." I showed them his stats. I showed them the stats of the minions he would have. I emphasized that they weren't ready to take him on yet. The male in the party who was on the heroes' side convinced the two women playing (his girlfriend and my fiancee) that they should take him on. So take him on they did. And they all died really horribly. In exactly the way I said it would happen. And everyone hated me and no one blamed the guy who said they should do it.

What this tells me is that women love men who lose. (See? There it is again.) After all, after a guy gets beat up by a bully, who gets the attention? The victim. Who gets the cold shoulder? The winner. After a tough game of (insert sport here), sure afterward, women may be excited when their men win, but they are affectionate and caring when the guy loses. When I play a game of Settlers of Catan and I win, who gets the cold shoulder? I do. And who is she suddenly chummy with as they complain about me? Whoever lost.

There are many possible explanations. Perhaps losers appeal to the genetically hardwired nurturing caregiver role. Perhaps it's a result of the Feminist movement, in which winning gives women a sense of smug superiority and men who win challenge their faith in equality. I don't think this is the case. After all, they lost as well last night, so they wouldn't have that sense of superiority over the losing man. I suspect women are planning a coup and things like this are all shadowy information gathering practices. When a man loses, they say kind words like, "It's ok if you lose. It happens to everyone." Then they report back to their secret female headquarters and inform their leader that one more male has been neutralized. He was found not to be a threat to the cause and was made less dangerous by being convinced that when the time comes, it's ok to be defeated by women so he won't try as hard. And when men win against them, women get angry, they give cold shoulders and otherwise make things unpleasant so that the winning men begin to think that perhaps life would be easier if they allowed their girlfriends to win. Another threat neutralized.

And who is this leader? Gloria Steinem, the American feminist icon? Hardly. The real leader of the revolution is someone almost every woman on the planet looks up to, turns to for advice, and otherwise lets dictate their lives and opinions. I'm talking about Oprah Winfrey. She has her daily propaganda hour for the Cult of Oprah (or CoO). Don't think we don't know your book club is really all about subversive literature with subliminal messages and secret codes. Why did everyone in your audience get a car that day? Blitzkrieg, baby. You needed your army mobile and figured any man in your audience was already on your side. You teach men that it's okay to deny our instincts and not fight when we feel threatened so that when the OLA (Oprah Liberation Army) rolls through, we'll sit idly by reading The Color Purple, drinking our chamomille tea, and talking about our feelings. We'll be unable to react to your CoO Coup ways.

Oprah's plans don't end there though. Once Overlord Oprah has proclaimed herself Dictator for Life, she'll ship men off to sensitivity camps where we'll stitch blankets for sixteen hours a day while watching Thelma and Louis and How Stella Got Her Groove Back. It seems innocent enough I suppose. Not pleasant, but at least not physically dangerous. But the plot spreads even wider, for she broadcasts her show via uninhibited VHF airwaves. That's why she isn't on cable tv. It limits her audience. It only goes where the hardwired cable goes. If she broadcasts on a non-premium  analog-and-antenna network, the signal for her show goes everywhere. Even into space. Aliens get her show. Suddenly, femaliens tell maliens to take their feet off the coffee table because it's not an ottoman. Intergalactic workshops all across the galaxy are turned into intergalactic crafts and scrapbooking rooms. Now, extra-terrestrial cultures are no longer technologically or psychologically prepared for an Oprah attack. They'll just want to cuddle up with each other and share their hopes and dreams. And what will they cuddle up under? Blankets. Blankets made by Earth males.

Flash back to Earth. The men in the Quilting Camps will be watching sad movies ALL. DAY. LONG. That's a lot of tears, and more importantly, a lot of sniffling. So at the end of Beaches when she sings "Wind Beneath My Wings," the men will need someplace to blow their noses from all of the sad, sad sniffling. Our blankets are now filled with disease. Oprah then takes these diseased blankets into space and gives them to the (now) peaceful aliens who just want to cuddle and snuggle. They get sick. They get weak. They get taken over by Oprah, intergalactic reinventor of the colonists' conqueror's oldest trick.

Oprah wants to be Queen of the Universe.

And that's why women love men who lose.

You have been informed.

Vampires and Plagues.

Ladies and Gentlemen, there are strange things afoot. From time to time, I go undercover and try to figure out what the vampires of my area are up to. Mostly it's just burning down buildings and writing bad poetry and killing each other. And dancing. Some vampires really like to dance. But the vampires in Fort Worth, Texas are particularly heinous I'm told. I don't know if that means their poetry is worse or their dancing more pretentious, but I don't want to find out. What I do know, is that there's been talk among the vampires about a killer virus. Granted it killed vampires and not people, but that's beside the point. So what does any of this mean?

Recently, I ordered a board game called Pandemic. In this board game, a number of viruses are spreading all over the world and the players must work together to stop the outbreaks before all of humanity is destroyed. While shipping the board game to me, Fed Ex stopped its travel for the night at Fort Worth. The vampires surely know I'm in their midst even if they don't know who exactly I am. They've read my blog, cyberstalked me, and have intercepted my package. It can be no coincidence that a game about a humanity killing plague stopped in Fort Worth of all places.

I think these evil vampires have a deadly virus or two and are using my board game to determine how, where, and when to best release the virus(es). If they lose the game enough times in a row, they'll determine the outbreak pattern is sufficient to kill us all.

Tomorrow, I go undercover among the vampires again. I must learn more about what they want with my board game and try to stop them. I'd do it tonight, but tonight, I'm hunting zombies in New Orleans.

You have been informed.

What Goldfish Don't Remember They Know

Ladies and Gentlemen, it is a common misconception that goldfish only have memory spans of ten, five, or even three seconds. In reality, goldfish, and all fish for that matter, have memories much longer than this. From an evolutionary standpoint, a species unable to remember where to obtain food would quickly die off. As such, I find myself wondering why this rumor would persist year after year. In my investigation, I was shocked to discover who perpetuates this rumor, but I could at least understand why they would spread the lie.

Approximately one out of three homes owns, or has owned, fish as pets. A large percentage of murders occur within the home. The police have discovered a way to communicate with fish to obtain leads in investigations. This interrogation technique is kept a closely guarded secret (oops... sorry for telling) because it keeps people from killing the fish and information obtained isn't legally admissible in court due to the fish being unable to request lawyers and the fact that courts currently do not issue subpoenas for sea life, and if the fish is unable to testify in court, its testimony is automatically considered unreliable. Regardless, because criminals rarely are aware that the fish can rat them out, the witness remains unmolested and is able to share information with the authorities. This is where the lie becomes important. Even if criminals do discover that cops can communicate with fish, the police-perpetuated myth that fish have no memory convinces any criminals who do know about interspecies communication that attacking the aquatic pets is pointless as the fish will forget the whole event the moment the crook steps out the door. Once more, the witness lives. 

And I know, you're all asking why I'm sharing it here if it's such a big important secret. Simple. No one goes around killing fish because Aquaman can talk to them, and he's a superhero. Crooks are lazy. They want to do things the easy way. Otherwise, they'd get real jobs and and earn their money the honest way. If they aren't concerned about protecting themselves from the Justice League, they certainly aren't worried about the cops.

You have been informed.

The Rainbow Comspiracy

Ladies and Gentlemen, there's something in the water. Oh sure, we've been saying it for years. The government's putting something in the water. But now there is proof that our drinking supply has been compromised.



You see that? Rainbows! From a sprinkler! You never saw this twenty years ago. I know I never saw it twenty years ago when I was a small child playing in my sprinkler. I thought I did, but she said I never did, and she's older, so she must be right. Something is clearly being injected into the water that's causing light to refract the same way it does up in the atmosphere after rain. Perhaps some put those "metallic oxide salts" in our water supply and oxygen supply that are causing this. I will say, however, that I don't think that this is a threat to our health, at least not directly. No, this is a threat to our well being. This is not the work of the government. This is the work of leprechauns.

Leprechauns are hoarders, amassers of treasure, which they hide away. Whether this money is made through ill means or an endless stream of shoe repair has yet to be determined. What is known is that it is commonly believed in America that leprechaun treasure is at the end of rainbows. While there is little evidence in Irish folklore that this is the case, the belief still persists. As such, with the economy growing ever more sour, the leprechauns who have immigrated to the U.S. over the years are no doubt growing increasingly concerned over the safety of their valuables. They've added metallic oxide salts to the water supply to create additional rainbows and draw people away from where their treasure is really located. What's more, once an individual has found the end of a rainbow, it's very likely that a leprechaun will be waiting for him, using his smooth talking ways to con said treasure seeker out of whatever they have on them, perhaps by trying to sell him a condo or an AMWAY distributorship. After all, leprechauns have bills too, and it's not like there are a lot of job opportunities for shoe repairmen anymore. Plus, they also kinda feel justified in taking people's money as repayment for the way their stereotyped in the media. It is, after all, those who believe the "pot o' gold" myth that follow rainbows anyway.

Fact: Leprechauns are amassing wealth. Rainbows are increasing. But don't be fooled. The rainbow is an ambush.

You have been informed.

And as a bonus today:



Good luck topping that one, internet.

Wii're Coming For You, Mr. Truth

Ladies and Gentlemen, yesterday I bought a Wii. And it's fun, sure. Somewhat, but that's because I bought it used and the only game it had is Wii Play, which you really only get for the free controller. And the cow race. That's kinda fun. I digress.

I was really looking forward to the internet features. The news. The weather. Everybody Votes. But I can't get it to connect. I've gotten error 51030, 51330, and 51332 so far. I've adjusted the router channel, the firewall, the WEP key. All no dice. Grrr... There's only one logical conclusion.

The my Wii is trying to undermine the United States of America by denying me internet access. It woudn't be the first time Japan has tried to take us out.

• FACT: Without the Wii Weather Channel, I will not know how to dress when leaving the house. That's an important deal when you live in Mississippi, as January 12 is just as likely to be twenty-eight degrees (Fahrenheit) as eighty-two. It could be gorgeous all day and then throw a monsoon at you in the mid afternoon. The Wii is trying to give me heat stroke, pneumonia, exposure, and other weather related badness. Plus it's trying to get my clothes wet to make me uncomfortable all day.
• FACT: Without Wii News, I'll have difficulty seeing what's going on in the world today to know what needs researching. If I can't research, I can't share the truth, and thus help thwart SAG and the zombies and then I'll never earn that ETHF.
• FACT: Without Everybody Votes, we won't be daily reminded of our dedication to democracy in this country. Without the daily reinforcement of the importance of voting by being asked what our favorite color is, we will be unable to remember how important it is to vote when congressional and presidential elections come up. Voter numbers will return to their pre-2008 election levels of 30%. 
• FACT: Most importantly, without the internet on my Wii, I will be unable to watch streaming videos of the episodes of How I Met Your Mother on the big TV as opposed to on the tiny computer screen with the lame sound system, and keeping people away from the TV, that is the most unAmerican thing of all.

Alright, Wii. Today, I break the proverbial smack down on your internet denying hiney. You will yield up your internet to me or face the consequences of me just using you as a game machine and sticking to the desktop computer I've been using with very little change to my actual life. You have been warned, Wii. 

And the rest of you...

You have been informed.

Researcher's block

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have researcher's block. I have no idea what to investigate, what to share today. No matter how hard I try, nothing seems to demand to be researched. I look at the headlines and nothing screams, "There's something more going on here than what they're saying." Why would I, of all people, be unable to seek out hidden truths today?

I find it highly unlikely that there is nothing important happening. Something must be happening, but for me not to sense it, it must be something so huge that someone would use a mind scrambler of some sort on me to keep me from discovering it before I can leak word and stop it.

But who could possess such a mind scrambler? Mad scientists? The government? The Screen Actors Guild? I do find it suspicious that I wasn't suspicious when I read about their impending strike. It must be them.

So, SAG is up to some big secret plans beyond the strike and they're scrambling my brains to keep me from investigating. Those sneaky jerks. But what could they be up to? Oscar season is upon us. Perhaps they have the Super-Movie, no doubt staring a recently deceased celebrity (or one they plan to make deceased very soon) about a mentally handicapped Jewish gay man during the Holocaust fighting for the right to die, but with dignity and on his own terms. Such a movie would be bound to win best picture and gross millions upon millions in DVD sales. And they're hiding this movie. No, they've stolen the movie and they're holding it hostage unless the studios give into their demands! They probably have the star kidnapped too, with the promise to kill the actor once their demands have been reached and the film returned.

But what are their demands? Money? No. They always ask for more money. That wouldn't justify all of that effort. Jet packs? Eagle-Talon High Fives? Jet packs they could probably buy, and you can't force an eagle to give you a high five. One way or another, after a plan like this, the actors will need to lay low for a while.

That's it! They are demanding that for every role they play, the studios provide a legal identity for that character including birth certificates, drivers licenses, social security cards. This makes perfect sense. Actors are constantly getting DUIs. It will let them drive drunk without the tabloids getting them, because it isn't Mel Gibson throwing racial slurs at a cop. It's William Wallace, or at least that's what the license says. Further, with multiple social security cards, they'll collect multiple social security checks when they're older, thus cheating the American tax payers out of their money. Such a sinister retirement plan. This money will no doubt be spent to... no...

This is what they're up to.

The screen actor's guild is holding hostage a movie about a gay, mentally challenged Jewish piano savant with tuberculosis fighting for the right to die on his own terms in a Nazi concentraiton camp. They are also holding the staring actor hostage with a promise to kill the actor when talks are resolved, thus ensuring the greatest Oscar win ever, making the studios tons of money. In exchange, the actors get official identities for every character they've ever played. As such, any character they've played old, or any character from a time set before now will be able to collect social security checks, which they will use to go on an alcohol and drug induced killing spree across the country as they flee from Hollywood to Canada (I don't know why they aren't fleeing to Mexico). With their new drivers licenses, however, all of the DUIs won't slow them down, since they can surrender a different license every time they're pulled over.

Look out, Canada! There are about twelve thousand coked up alcoholic actors coming your way!

No wonder they scrambled my brains. If only they hadn't, I could research that...

You have been informed.