So, I haven't seen 'Bruce Almighty', I don't plan on seeing 'Bruce Almighty', and in fact, I think I've managed to totally forget the ads I saw for 'Bruce Almighty'. However, I thing there's one thing I'm qualified to say about 'Bruce Almighty'.

It sucks.

Sure, I didn't see it. Sure, I won't. Sure, I didn't even make it through half of the capsule review. But let's be real, half the time the reviews you read are written by guys who sleep through half a screening and spend the other half pestering their agent in the lobby about getting them a meeting with the good-looking one on ET. So, I'm at least as qualified as that.

When I was doing my research on this film, I thought 'I'm so drunk, I'm going to fall off this toilet'. Shortly afterward, I managed to put a couple of the sentences I had read together and became possesed of that special kind of moral outrage peculiar to those who have just fallen off a toilet.

You see this film revolves around a guy who (let's call him "Bruce") becomes God. Like super-powers and everything. But of course, he doesn't leave his hometown, because he's more mature than that. Instead he goes to his job and has fun showing how crazy he can get with his new powers. Yeah. You read that right. He becomes god and he GOES TO WORK.

If you're like me, or anybody I've ever been within visual ID range of, you probably have some ideas about what you'd do if you could do anything. Maybe some of them involve world hunger, maybe some of them involve making Lara Croft real enough to date, maybe some of them revolve around a really great corn beef sandwich. But I'm willing to bet that if they involve going to work the next morning that it's only long enough to turn your boss into a chicken.

I don't even remember what his job is, but unless it's blowjob quality inspector, or testing the effects of beer and videogames used in combination, than he's a fucking nutcase. Look, let's make a completely offensive metaphor for a minute, and say that you're Kunta Kinte. Okay? You're Kunta Kinte, and you're a slave and it sucks total ass. But suddenly, you get the power to fly. So of course, you're going to fly away from the cotton field, right? I mean, you might rescue the other slaves, you might grab the field boss and drop him in a well, or you might just take an arial dump on the master's house. But I guarantee you are not going to get up in the morning and really impress them with how much cotton you can pick when your flying, are you? No you are not.

So, as I was dragging myself out of bed this morning to go to work, I decided to give this movie three screw you's and a bite me. YMMV.
  ¶ 9:58 PM

  So apparently, the MTA has decided that the way to pay New Yorkers back for daring to doubt the fare hike is to screw them into the ground.

Yesterday, I had to go to band practice, then go to the office to get some work done. Straighforward enough, one would think. First, I go to the L train. The L train is not going into Manhattan. For you non-New Yorkers, that means there's pretty much no way for me to get into the city. However, I've been here before and I know how to get sneaky. I walk to the Lorimer st. station and pick up the G cross-borough. I figure I'll take it up to Queens and get the N into Manhattan at Queens plaza. It'll turn a half-hour trip into an hour trip, but no biggie.

I call the other guys, I get on the G and one stop before Queens plaza, I hear the dreaded announcement: "Last Stop, everybody off". You see, they're working on the G too.

Okay, okay, I'm screwed, but not totally. I can change where I am for the E or V. Both local trains that I usually never take, but I can't be choosy. The E comes first so I ride it down to West 4th street change for the F and get to the practice space. 2 hours after I left the house. It would have been quicker to drive there from Staten Island.

Alright, so we practice, and that's all good. After, I figure I'll walk over to the Bleeker st. 6 and go up to the office. Oh-ho! Did I think it would be that easy? What a fool! The uptown 6 isn't running! I have to walk another 12 blocks to catch the 8th st N/R.

So by now, it's almost 5 by the time I get to my office. And it turns out I have a lot more work to finish than I thought. It ends up I'm not out of there until close to midnight. I wander down to Union Square thinking maybe the L is running after midnight. No such luck, not until 5 am. So, screw it I'm taking a cab.

I get in the cab we cruise downtown, speed onto the Willliamsburg bridge, and come to a dead halt. You see, everybody else needed to take a cab back to Williamsburg because there's no train. Oh, and they shut all the lanes except one down on the bridge. You see, because actually getting somewhere is apparently letting the terrorists win.

I guess the MTA has decided to change NY from 'The City That Never Sleeps' to 'The City That Packs It In And Gives Up On The Weekends.' Less catchy on a t-shirt, if you ask me.

Seriously though, I can deal with NY being in flux. No jobs, bad times, even rising crime. Been there. But if the subways are going to just be useless, than why the hell am I here? It's just too much work.

Seattle, here I come.
  ¶ 2:46 PM