The Handsome Hermit

Chinaman Lin Jack on Monogamy, Sex and Sodomy

     

 

Hermit:   So long since I've had sex Lin Jack

Lin Jack:   Because you too poor.

H:   Well I'm not exactly starving...

LJ:   No but where you fancy car?   Where you frashy clothes?  You not being 'good catch'

H:   Well  actually there may be other issues.....

LJ:  No, very simple:  Lady today not having time for loser guy

H:   That's hardly fair.  No disrespect but you're driving a cab.

LJ:  I drive Town Car!  And I married with kid, wife and me marry young.  And she know I hard working, always bring money home for the kids.  American guy eat too many cheeseburger.

H:   That's good.   You have a good sex life?

LJ:  No.  When marry a rong time, sex life not exciting.  Thas why so many marry guy rike the hooker.

H:   You seek out pros?

LJ:  No, my wife she kill me if I try that.  Sometime I get massage and they give hand job, good relaxing so I not thinking too much about the sex.

H:   So wouldn't you say that's cheating in a sense?

LJ:  You cwazy man?   No sexy or kissing.  Just massage and hand job, sometime blow job.

H:   Hmm, then what about anal sex?  I mean without kissing.  I mean as an act itself.  I would love to get me some ass...

LJ:  No,  I not the gay guy.  I not liking the ranal sex.

H:   Well, you can be hetero and like anal with women.

LJ:  I not like

H:   To each his own I guess

LJ:  Got get the hand job, you find you not thinking so much about the sexy

H:   I think I might want more that that.

LJ:  I want the bronde girl.  I wanna try it, very exciting.

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A Serious Man

     


The beauty about so many Coen Bros films is that they seem to get better upon repeated viewings.   A Serious Man would fall into that category.  It's a bit of a personal film for them as it takes place in the late 60s in a mid-western town similar to where they grew up.

Now when making a film that takes place in the late 60's, lesser film makers would have used the same cliches and this film would be filled with nothing but Hippies and Woodstock images.  But not the Coens, what we have is a slice of their adolescent years and a glimpse of middle-class life of the time as experienced through the Jewish-American community.   No big war protest but instead a hapless man, struggling with life, dealing with modernity and all the usual trappings and pitfalls -  pain in the ass neighbors, car accidents, bullies, bad mail-order deals and a rooftop tv antenna that gives trouble.

But Larry's biggest problem is his unsatisifed wife, who just matter of factly decides to leave him for a 'Serious Man'.    Again in a lesser film, she would leave him for some hearthrob but here the charming cuckold-er (sp?) is a man by the name of Sy Abelman (played brilliantly by Fred Melamed). Sy is past middle age, balding, graying, overweight with glasses and can be seen wearing an acqua blue jump suit on his way to a round of golf, but the way the Coens wrote this character and the detail in the way the community is presented, the viewer really understands that in this circle, this guy is a freakin chick magnet.  Not to mention what a wonderful performance he gives. 

Then there are the Coen characters: the phlegm hacking attorney, the profanity inclined kid on the school bus, the Korean exchange student who expects to bribe his way to a good grade.  The exchanges between the Korean exchange student, his dad and the protagonist are worth the rental alone.   Then there's Larry's unemployed brother (the hysterical Richard Kind)- a mathematical genius, who spends half the day in the bathroom trying to take care of some skin condition but is making an effort to meet women at "Hillah House"

This is simply a fine and unique film.  It may not be the rip-roaring fun that Big Lebowski or O' Brother are but it definitely is one of their better films and that's saying a lot as the Coens might be the finest film makers on the planet.  Mazel tov!

 

 

Nope....Not Dead Yet.....Sorry Motherfuckers

You rotten bastards.   

You dumb jerks, You all should be

       KICKED

   IN THE HEAD!

 

  Ahh one of my favorite shows as a teen, Degrassi High.  Those days I spent debating if I could stick out the pain a little more or take my parent's advice and "jump off a fucking bridge."   Well Shane told all the self-important teen snobs what should happen to them.  It's a message that so many of the nasty fucks out there need to hear.

  

How was your Christmas?

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I never imagined as a kid opening my Intellivision video games that some 27 Christmases later, I'd be such a mess.   The past week I had a Federal Judge call me "irrelevant."  I spent 6 hours in the toilet shitting blood, found a strange lump on my testicle and last night, due to this nasty storm, my door was knocked open and my home filled with ice and snow and brutal cold that not even a winter coat could withstand the cold.

 

Yes time for Joy and time for cheer, indeed.

 

 

State of the Hermit - 11/27/10

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         Did you miss me?  Ah, holidays are especially painful for a Hermit.  I decided to do the right thing this Thanksgiving and visit with my parents.  For those of you not familiar, the Hermit comes fromm good stock.   Some people come from dysfunction families.  Well my family wouldn't be classified as dysfunctional; it's way beyond that.  Actually, my parents, siblings and their offspring seem to have a function: Wreaking Fuckin Havoc.    Excluding the Hermit, there isn't one member of his family that isn't psychotic, stupid, delusional, sociopathic or an all-around plain fuck.  Visit the Bronx zoo's gorilla exhibit and you'll see something similar to my family, except the gorillas carry themselves with more dignity.

 

 It was quite the meal.  The image many have of Italian mothers doting over their pampered children as they serve them all kinds of wonderful tasty Italian dishes would not be taken from the Hermit's home.   My mom put some dead animal on the table, I asked what it was and I got the same reply I got when I was a kid, "Nona yu fucka busaness, now eata o' I gonna zmack you."  

My dad was enjoying his wine and he reminded me several times that wine was the only reason he was there and significantly more important to him than my existence.   My warm-hearted brother, though he spent the good part of the year battling cancer and complications from surgery, still mustered the strength to call me a "fuckface" for apparently looking at him the wrong way.  Meanwhile my niece was bragging about the various crimes she and her criminal friends committed.

  

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         When did Black Friday become an official event?   People have a freakin month to go shopping for that annual reciprocity thing they do, yet retailers have managed to convince hundreds of thousands of drooling imbeciles to start up their short bus and head down to the mall at 4am the night of a major holiday.   Wasn't the main benefit of a holiday that you got to sleep?  I'm a little disappointed not one of these brain-dead ass clowns got killed on line this year as is often the case.  Ya know, when there is a stampede for the doors for something like a Playstation 3 on sale for $15 less than it will be the rest of the year.

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         Someone once sang, "love is the only engine of survival" but I must say, I think I disagree with that.   As the victim of a brutal and harrowing depression most of my adult life, I find that sometimes when I feel hatred of certain people, I somehow feel a little more positive about other things.  The hatred sort of relieves the other symptoms.  Isn't it often said that depression is anger turned inwards?   So maybe, this makes sense.  Maybe it's better to hate others than myself?  I would imagine it must feel quite good to truly not give a damn about anything or anyone.

 

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         The Hermit rubbed one out the other day and his cock was HUGE.  I don't know how this happened.   I must have been quite excited; it looked about 30% bigger than it usual does with an erection.  I'm gonna have to check my browser history and check what piece of porn help me to such great lengths.   

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The Fourth Kind

         

   When I was a kid, I didn't fear the boogie man or keep a night light on to watch for monsters.  However, UFOs and that Alien stuff scared me to pieces.   Even today, I still get a little creeped out by the 'Grays' as they have become to be called.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a rational man and I'm far from gullible.   I need some empirical evidence if I'm going to start believing wild stories.  Still, at the least I often find alien abduction stuff interesting and sometimes amusing.   That's why I tried to watch this galactic-sized crap pile of a movie.

One of the main requirements for any movie to work is to establish suspension of disbelief.  Without that, the viewer would hardly give a damn about anyone on screen.   Well, this movie opens with Mila Jovovich telling us, "I'm Milla Jovovich, a professional actor(if you say so) playing the part of Abbey Tyler but the story is based on true events...."    She goes on to tell us that she will be in the reenactments but 'real' footage will be included in the movie.   There ya go - suspension of disbelief thrown out the window and now we have to take this as some sort of documentary.

One big problem though: There is no Abbey Tyler and the entire story is made-up.  Even the supposedly 'real' footage is actually staged.  It's not even believable as I found myself feeling insulted halfway through when they started showing this 'actual' footage.  Who are the target audience for this tard fodder?   It's an offense to yahoos, nuts and conspiracy theorists everywhere.

The result is a sort of Blair Witch of Close Encounters.  However, the going back and forth between the reenactments and the fake 'real' footage just ruins the flow of any kind of suspense.  The potential was there if they just presented it as fiction but this viral or guerilla marketing they did to promote this junk was really insulting and very misleading.   I lost interest in it halfway through and just stayed tuned hoping that maybe we'd get a glimpse of Milla Jovovich's ass in some abduction scene.

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Question of the Month

 Ever have someone ask you a question and find that the premise of the question was much more interesting than the question itself?

 

          Question of the Month

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RIP Greg Giraldo

Damn, it seems everything and everyone I enjoy or like goes away or leaves too quickly.   My favorite bands breakup, any TV show I enjoy gets cancelIed and I can't get a tasty Pudding Pop in the Summer.   Damn,  even my favorite hooker, a nice girl who stuck her tongue so far up my ass, we were able to kiss while she was rimming me is no longer available.

Now Greg Giraldo has to go and drop dead on me.   The Hermit really enjoyed his work.  I ask you all to please check out some of his stuff.    A funny fuck, he will be missed.

 

                  Greg Giraldo

 

Jokes.com
Greg Giraldo - Homeless Guy
comedians.comedycentral.com
Greg Giraldo Stand-Up Greg Giraldo Jokes Hasselhoff Roast Videos

Jokes.com
Greg Giraldo - Illegal Alien Investment Banker
comedians.comedycentral.com
Greg Giraldo Stand-Up Greg Giraldo Jokes Hasselhoff Roast Videos

Jokes.com
Greg Giraldo - Dumb Country
comedians.comedycentral.com
Greg Giraldo Stand-Up Greg Giraldo Jokes Hasselhoff Roast Videos

Nicco Is Back

As usual, times are tough and the Hermit's friend Nicco doesn't have it so easy either.  The Hermit asks all that are thinking about some paid companionship to please consider Nicco.  

Why choose Nicco?  Because he knows you "deserve happy times for the ending of Summer and beginning of Fall."   Besides, he is a "male escort available to men and women AND a poet."  Let's not forget, he has "a large cock when hard."  What more can you ask for?

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In today's world of effeminate, pretty boys, it is so nice to see a man's man.  Perhaps you can spend part of your time with him trimming his back hair.   Or being that he is a poet, perhaps he can recite a sonnet for you while you powder his ass to help alleviate his heat rash.

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Or perhaps you can spend some quality time with this poet and you two can write an Ode to the Pimples on Nicco's Ass.   The possibilities are endless.   However, now is the time to act as it seems he is promising these good times for the end of Summer and beginning of Fall. 

So c'mon guys and gals, give Nicco a shot. 

Nicco

347) 206-1702

[email protected]

Life During Wartime from Todd Solondz

         

  

   Since they first started a hundred years ago, filmmakers have shown human beings to be good creatures, if not God's creatures.  Sure, there would be some bad people, the villains, usually broadly drawn and put on screen to counter the good and noble qualities of the film's protagonist.  But the center of the film was always based on the seemingly innate knowledge that humans are basically good.  The baddies, the troublemakers were an aberration.   Even when it was a situation of a lot of baddies, it was usually because they were misled by some evil force.  We humans are good deep down.  We have our history, our society, our culture, our laws, our lofty ambition, our high ideals and our good hearts.  And the most important thing of all: We love.

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Every Todd Solondz film I've seen so far spits directly on all this.   He shows us what a farce it all is.  What's most impressive is that he does it with characters and dialogue we recognize, not some far-fetched monsters.   Everyone is full of shit.  Upon watching a Solondz film, every viewer can't help but wonder, "Am I full of shit too?"

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Solonndz' latest film is a loose sequel to his 1998 masterpiece Happiness.  Takes place about 10 years later but he didn't have any of the actors reprise their roles, probably for some artistic reason.  Not that this cast isn't good.    Shirley Henderson has a voice that can make the most passive man want to jump up, pull all his hair out of his head and run to the hills but it only reinforces the Joy character.  Former Brat Packer, Ally Sheedy keeps her crazy eyes in check long enough to portray an Emmy-winning, self-important, man-eating bitch, Helen.  We are even treated to a tormented and touching performance by Paul Ruebens.    The entire cast did a fine job of delivering Todd Solondz' polite but brutal dialogue.

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Yes, polite brutality is the way I'd summarize the work of Todd Solondz.  There's plenty of it here in Life During Wartime.  However, I don't consider this his best work.  It seemingly has all the elements but just isn't as memorable as Happiness or Storytelling.    It might also be a little confusing to viewers who aren't paying full attention.  Of course, the viewer wont be as confused as little Timmy, who asks in the film, "Are pedophiles terrorists?"   His mom, while not directly answering that question does assure him, "Don't worry Timmy, you'll never be gay.  I'll make sure you'll never be gay and nobody will never, ever put anything in you."

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State of the Hermit - Air Condition Is for Pansies

     
 

Due to the intense heat, I am forced to spend most of the day wearing nothing but my undies and maybe a skimpy pair of shorts.   I don't have a/c up here (complicated long story) and I'm directly below a black, flat roof which cooks me mercilessly.  This house was built in the 1940's.  They couldn't figure out that it would fuckin fry under a flat, black roof back then?

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I've been living on mostly bread and water so the other day I decided to treat myself to some cool, tasty treats.  I sometimes revert back to childhood form when it gets real hot and I wind up looking for the stuff that gave me pleasure as a kid.  I head over to the market and I know my all time favorite, pudding pops are no more.  However I was also disappointed to discover the Chipwhich brand ice cream sandwiches are gone also.  Sure they make similar imitations but these things are not quite the same.  This poor imitation  I tried tasted like frozen vomit between two cookies that were so hard, Gary Busey could have chipped a tooth.

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Even my choice of fruity beverage is gone.  Anyone remember Five-Alive?  Gone.    Also those ancient emperor themed ices, remember Alexander the Grape?  Gone.    Ah, you can never truly go home again.

    

What I Would Do To: Disney Fembot, Miley Cyrus

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   There was a time if you were a good-looking but minimally talented male actor who fancied himself a movie star, you had to pay your dues and suck lots of gray-pubed film producer cock on the way up.  If you were an attractive young woman and thought you should be a music star, well then you had to get your ass plowed by coked-up record execs, or at least a good ramming from Prince on the way.

Oh but things have changed.  With the increasingly powerful tween market, conglomos like Disney farm the "talent" young, groom them in the preferred image, load em up with tons of $$$ and set them out to keep America's kids as dumb as stumps one stupid song at a time, one nauseating feature film at a time.  Today, stardom is not earned.  Stars aren't even born anymore; they are manufactured.

I believe that deep down Miley Cyrus knows she didn't pay her dues.  This is why she is always shaking and showing her ass, bending over and putting that multi-million dollar Disney-Whore Ass on display.  She knows the pop whores that came before her got their asses nailed and she feels she should get hers also.

Well, I would be glad to help her out in that capacity.  Here's what I would do:

First I would pile up a bunch of that cheap Disney merchandise, flatten it all down, then piss on it.  Then I would have her go down on her hands and knees on that pile of piss-soaked Disney trash and put a big ol' cowboy hat on her.  Then I would oil up her ass and get it ready by inserting small, soft Disney toys in there.  Then once she is all warmed up, I'd fuck her ass good while she sings, "Please fuck my ass, my achy-breaky ass."

  

  

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Get ready to fuck...you fucking fuckers fuck!

See, I told ya I wasn't dead yet.    But I've decided I'm gonna change things a little.  I haven't been honest enough.   I don't think I've been emphasizing enough just how much I hate most everyone.  So from now on, no more being overly polite.   Fuck all these motherfucking fucks.

While I was away we lost Dennis Hopper.  I've enjoyed much of his work.

Unfortunately, the last thing we remember by him was that credit card or insurance commercial.  Yea nobody sold out quite like the hippies.  No wonder their kids are such gullible, superficial fucks.

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We also lost Gary Coleman.  (Willis you're next!)  What a bitch it must have been to be a tv star yet you would need a ladder to fuck any groupie or fan that would through ya one.  My strongest Gary Coleman memory is that 'very special episode' where MR. Horton the Bicycle man tries to touch Arnold and Dudey

I remember watching this episode and hoping MR. Horton would have his way with them.  Personally, I don't see what the big deal is.  He offered them candy, cake, playboy magazines and the latest video games for a feel.  If MR Horton offered those things to me at that age, I would have gladly doled out the handjobs.   People need to get over themselves and their sacred, wonderful little male children.   I was touched and molested as a youngster.  When I was about 11, there was an older, fully mustached, older guy who fondled me.  He pulled my pants down, he removed my socks and rubbed my feet.  He basically threw himself on me.  And you know what?  As far as traumatic experiences go, on a scale of one to ten, it was barely a 5.   Big fucking deal.  Get over yourselves.

Anyway, RIP Arnold, do the right thing and give the bicycle man a handy up in heaven.  You owe him one.

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I was gone so long, I missed Mullet Appreciation Month.

  

State of the Hermit - Sometimes I Remember I'm Not Dead

and I somehow come out of hibernation mode.   I find it's even worse than I remember.  I get no encouragement to come back to the world.   It seems like you're all just a bunch of psychotic apes fighting over limited resources, one wrong look or one bad word away from lunging at each other's throats.   It seems myopia all over as everyone is becoming increasingly small.

I will be posting again soon.  I aint dead yet.

My Alx Rose-Ethel Merman Theory

For my friends that know me, since 1989 I've been saying that Axl Rose must be Ethel Merman's grandson.  Every time I hear one of them, I think of the other.  You guys thought I was nuts.  Well here is some proof.  It seems they even dance alike as well as sing alike.

(sorry for the poor quality, i had to upload to youtube to get it to play in this blog.  You may want to raise the volume a little)