In the mid 70's, my grandfather would wake me up at 3am on full moon nights to go hunt nutria at the family ranch on lake Austin with .22s. Find the two glowing spots in the water and aim right between them. We didn't collect tails, just kept score. He almost always won, but I was 5+-. Mostly I just spotted them for him.
I know the damage they can cause, I wish eradication was a possibility, but I think people will be gone before they are. Tenacious little bastards.

Yeah, I think the ending is still, idk... like, the selfless sacrifice comes across too much as a sort of "look, he woke her up because he was like, really in lurv with her all along" kinda move, which just shallows the whole thing EYE EM OH.

also I just want Pratt's character to suffer for his choice.

also leave Jennifer alone, she's mine.

or at least wake me up too. What Chris? Afraid of a lil competition?

ah,the days of being in a relationship with a woman,who loved painkilllers with her jug wine.

who would wake me up in the dead of the night,using the super heated metal tops of a bic lighter on the bottom of my feet (those are called "smileys" for those who do not know) to scream at me about some girl who had the audacity to look my way at target,because 3:30am is the time to find out if i am having sexual thoughts about random women.

or an earlier girlfriend whose father was a prominent artist in the country and was holding a weekend jazz festival.i had a customer who had cerebal palsy,and one leg had been amputated,whose boyfriend had just broke up with her and she was a wreck.

so i had this bright idea! why doesn't this poor emotional wreck of a woman come to the jazz festival of my girlfriends dad? that will get her mind off things right?

but,having a second person accompany made me a little late.so when i finally showed up,my girlfriend was already half in the bag,and mad.i tried to explain and introduce her to mary,the heartbroken girl.

and my girlfriend broke my nose with a bottle of michelob.i do not think she cared that mary was heart broken,and an utter wreck in need of human company.i could be wrong,this is just a guess,but the bleeding from my broken nose may have been a strong indicator.

or how about the time i was counseling a long time friend,who had pulled a midnight move out to escape a man who had basically had her trapped in a spare room,chaining her to the wall.that man had gone as far as severing her achilles tendons,after her first attempt to escape,and this woman suffered from a severe case of PTSD.

now she did form an almost childlike bond to me.maybe because i had offered her the first taste of true compassion,and offered her safety and comfort,and allowed her to talk the poison and bile out that had been building inside her for over three years.

but her attachment to me,which was to be expected,was not viewed favorably by my girlfriend.i spent a lot of time and attention in drawing this broken and damaged young woman to feel safe,and to begin to feel human again(which infuriated my girlfriend).my patio was always filled with friends,artists and people of interest,and i did my best to bring a normalcy to this young womans life in order to help her acclimate,and to feel human again.

and my girlfriend would come home,get drunk,and start to whisper the most vile.and disgusting things..not about this young woman,but about me.

which,of course,if you understand the mentality of an abuse victim.especially one who had suffered such as she had.any criticism,or perceived threat to the person who had (in their mind) saved them,will create incredible anger and anxiety.

so because of my girlfriends irrational jealousy of this woman,and in her drunken selfishness,she went out of her way to make this woman feel as uncomfortable,and as unsafe (the exact opposite of what i was trying to do).so much so that the young woman...who didn't want to be a burden,or affect my life in a negative way...left my home,and wrote me she would never come back,because she loved me and didnt want to cause problems.

two weeks later she was found dead in motel room.over dose of piankiller and xanax...and wrists slashed to ribbons.

or how about the time one of my girlfriends broke three of my ribs,because i was being kind to a waitress?

or the time another girlfriend stabbed me,because while she was unhappy with our relationship,she could not abide me talking to anyone who owned a vagina.in this case a fellow artist i was collaborating with,and who happened to be not only an amazing human being but beautiful as well.

or that one time,when i broke up with a girl,because it simply was not working out and she repeatedly rammed her ford fairmont station wagon into my brand new firebird?

oh..the stories i can tell about all my wonderful relationships,and the women i have shared portions of my life with.i could write a book...

and then i watch this video,and i am overcome with an urge to drive cross country to the creators home,walk inside,grab him by the ankles and crag him outsides....and beat him senseless.

because he is coming from a false premise.
he is implying the that the benefits of relationships outweigh he selective memory our brains create when reliving our moments of singlehood.

when the reality is this:as long as you have friends,who love and accept you for who you are,you are never actually single.you are surrounded and loved by an extended family.

i do not need a girlfriend.
i do not want a girlfriend.
i am not interested in getting married.
and as i have revealed here,i would prefer some memories to remain buried under the much happier and adoring memories of my actual friends who put up with my eccentricities,and my overall oddness,rather than deal with a woman who is smitten with the ideas fed to them by institutions,and periodicals such as comsopolitian and vogue.

though,ironically,i have two ex girlfriends living in my home as i write this.
one is a former porn star,and current stripper who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia,and is a recovering addict.

while the other i had to go do a midnight rescue from a place where she was renting a room,but the house was junkie house,and she is a recovering addict as well (and they also kept stealing everything from her).she has bought a house,but it needs work and that work is taking fooooooorever.

and BOTH of these women still harbor some residual feelings towards me.even though i have been quite clear,open and honest that i have ZERO interest in rekindling anything,with either of them,but that hasn't stopped them from being all catty with each other,and causing drama,and complaining about the smallest,tiniest and most ridiculous of things to bitch about.

at first i tried to play referee.
i did my best to help everyone get along,until i realized they both had no interest in getting along.they wanted to outdo the other in order to get my attention.

which is just.....dumb..but anyways,my new way of handling their insipid complaints is always this response:i don't care.

and it seems to work beautifully.

so there you have my story,or at least part of it.
and i have to say...this guy is kinda full of shit.

for those of you happily married,with a great partner,i salute you.good for you,and i mean that.

but for me?
no thanks.i am good.

someone needs to dub that scream with the goat yell. Wake me up when someone does that.

Wake me up when the 117th Edition of the Encyclopedia Galactica is published...

Looks cool but I need some sort of creative control or I tend to get bored. I'd enjoy reordering matter and creating new celestial events. Wake me up when the future is here.

Meh. My college friend did a better job by going under my matress and lifting it up to wake me up.

Would you feel more comfortable if he wore a white hood? Maybe talk about 'gang lifestyle'?
I prefer my racists in white hoods and displaying swastikas, so I don't have to wade through subtext to id them. Open racism is stupid but at least honest. I despise political correctness and its ability to sugarcoat hatred. I'd rather engage a Neo-Nazi or white pride, god-hates-fags biblethumper than a Rick Santorum or Bill O'Reilly who are too much of a coward to say what they believe because they know how the broad public reacts.
The notion of not publicly voicing those idiotic, inhuman opinions because its offensive is more offensive to me than the opinion itself. I'd like to know if you're an idiot.
I believe in freedom of speech, even if that proves you're a terrible idiot. You have a right to be.

And now wake me up from that strange dream where I defend @lantern53.

Wake me up when we're compositing on the atomic scale.

Then I'll take a cup of tea, Earl Grey, hot.

Wham! - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go has been added as a related post - related requested by PlayhousePals on that post.

That, is pretty much my kids waking me up in the morning.

Your video, Postmodern Jukebox - Wake Me Up Mariachi Style Avicii, has made it into the Top 15 New Videos listing. Congratulations on your achievement. For your contribution you have been awarded 1 Power Point.

Ha, I have slept through my dorm(itory)'s loud high pitch fire alarm even if I am partially deaf without my analog bone conduction hearing aid. My room and suite mates didn't even wake me up! If it wasn't a false alarm, then I wouldn't be here.

Are you insane? The first thing I thought of when I saw that cactus fool was lacerated liver or kidney. This girl din't even sharply slap her man....

My mom used to wake me up tickling me-One day I woke up to an open-palmed slammer and came to and she told me that she had already tried waking me up 3 times, I had slapped her on the third try (waking sleep reaction) and her immediate response had me on my feet wondering, "WTF?!!"

I hate how my hands keep waking me up when they fall down from the 10 and 2 position.