Mind our dust...

The Fortress II - update!


Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you. And I haven't forgotten about The Fortress of Solitude either. Far from it, in fact - I am busily porting over EVERY thread to the new site, as well as adding the regular Dwellers' opinions in.

So here's what's going to happen: the Loyal Dwellers - that being Trashcanman, Ben, Invisible Wolfman and Hackers Anonymous have all ready made accounts. Once I've finished updating the site and everything is in working order - I will e-mail you with the site address and your personal name and password.

Once you log in (changing your password, natch) you'll notice that you've been a busy boy, and your posts are in the dozens or.. well, however much you've wrote on here, really. And then we can begin the dance anew.

You see, I just wasn't prepared for the likes of, say, Hackers Anonymous to have the same zero postcount as some new member, when he's been coming here for almost a year. You all have, and so this is my little effort to show as much.

Anyway, less prattle. I've got work to do, and only a small army of green puppets to help me. Get your asses in gear, you stupid Doozers. MUSH!

The Fortress Of Solitude II

Where it all begins again.

An important announcement, ladies and gentlemen.

OK, I won't kid myself - gentlemen.

OK - guys.

This website that you've come to know and love will soon be dust and ashes. I will soon be closing down this site - forever. And opening a whole new one.

You see, it's no secret I've never been a fan of Blogspot's fairly rigid format. It's just not user-friendly enough for what I want The Fortress to be; a place where we can all air our views whenever we want, and just have random little threads dedicated to simple stuff like a cool link we've found. But over here a new thread is a weekly thing. That's just not good enough.

The final icing on the cake was learning how it's actually fairly difficult to join up and leave messages if you're not already writing a blog of your own. I think joining a site like this is an impulse thing - maybe someone saw one of my reviews and wanted to leave a (good or bad) message. So they come here and have to sign up? Fair enough, the urge is still there - it should only be a matter of filling out a user name. But it's not, and when a few stumbling blocks and red tape get in the way, that urge will quickly disolve.

Also, if this person DOES get through, where do they leave their comments? In a completely unrelated thread? Yeah, sure, they COULD scan down and try and find the original review or whatever and leave some snotty comment (it's happened a couple of times) but who's going to ever see it?

Therefore, I'm moving home to a far, far better site which is EVERYTHING I'm after. Easy to join, once a comment is made in a thread that thread shoots back up to the top - leaving potentially every thread still relevant. Anyone can post pictures at any time in the thread (unlike this one, where one pic at the top is all you've got) and.. well, put it this way - it's going to be great.

Here's some more news - the Loyal Dwellers that have stayed on this site have all contributed opinions and comments, and there's no way I'm going to let them all just rot in this dead site. So, I don't know how YET, but I'm going to find a way of basically re-creating EVERY thread and EVERY comment, replicating the site in all but address.

Sound good? Cool - but it's going to take a little while, so stick with me. I'm still going to post new stuff on here in the meantime (and port that over to the new site when the time comes) but I just thought I'd give you all the heads up.

Get your heart beating faster, people - the best is yet to come.

Dreams. Those little slices of death. How I loathe them...

Your bad dreams - revisited.

I don’t know about anywhere else, but over in the UK the word “nightmare” is tediously over-used. Traffic is a “nightmare”, work today was a “nightmare”. Yet, when REAL nightmares happen they can be far worse than any minor daily mishap.

In the clear-headed light of day, talking about your bad dreams seems a little twee – they’re not real, they didn’t happen and they never will. Yet that horrible, gnawing feeling inside your brain when the nightmare is actually happening, not to mention the real, genuine fear that’s still there when you wake up can certainly be no joke.

So – our bad dreams – our worst ever dreams – let’s talk about them here, shall we? I’ll start the ball rolling with a few of mine.

My worst nightmares over the last few years all have a similar theme, an air of absolute reality mixed with some weird, ghostly stuff. Like, I’ll ALWAYS be lying in bed, dreaming that I’m dreaming (uhh.. yeah). Like, I dream that I’ve just woken up and I’m still lying in bed, thanking God that I’ve woken up and then it all starts happening again and I realise I’m still dreaming. I always start yelling in my dreams (not in my sleep), things like “HELP ME” or “WAKE ME UP” in an effort to actually shout in my sleep and get my wife to wake me. It’s never worked.

The worst nightmare I’ve ever had was about a year and a half ago, and if I stop and think about it I can remember everything about it. It was the usual “dream within a dream” scenario, and I’m lying in bed when suddenly some invisible force picks me up and starts spinning me around the room. My wife is still lying sleeping and I’m yelling at her to help me, but she doesn’t.

So, cue about three different times of me “waking up” (but not really), and this time my wife is sitting up and I’m telling her about my nightmare. She doesn’t speak, only nods. The phone beside the bed rings and I answer it, and suddenly I hear my wife on the other end of the line, crying. Then this fucking AWFUL voice says, “PUT THE PHONE DOWN.” My “wife” now has this weird, creepy grin and I suddenly realise the truth and say; “you’re NOT her” and she screams and lunges over the bed at me, clawing at my eyes, and she chases me through my house making this odd screaming noise the whole time. This time, thankfully, I really DID wake up. I remember lying in bed feeling like I’d been hit by a car.

I had a similar kind of nightmare a few nights ago (hence me getting the idea to write this), where that horrible unseen ghost thing attacked me again, but this time it started pulling me to the bottom of the bed, and again my shouts for help were ignored. This time, there was this horrible glowing face in the middle of the quilt, and then suddenly I was hovering above my bed, still shouting for help. My wife now turns round and opens her eyes. She starts pointing at me and laughing. The unseen force then moves over my mouth and nose and I can’t breath. Then, for the first time ever, in real life my wife DID wake me up because I was hyperventilating in my sleep. Yeeesh – what would happened if she had just left me…….?

There, that ought to get the old memory banks working. Like I said, I know it’s a different situation talking about nightmares now than when they’ve just happened, but just let it all come flooding back.

3, 4, better lock your door…….

Question time..

Because The Curmudgeon knows dick about his own website.

Quick question for you faithful Dwellers, and it's based on a conversation I've now had twice with people I know. Said conversation goes something like this:

Them: Oh, I was on your blog yesterday.

Me: Really? Well, dammit, why didn't you write something?

Them: I can't. I have to have a blog myself before I can write anything.

Me: No you don't.

Them: Yes you do.

Me: No you.... uh, actually.. I dunno. Maybe you do.


So there you have it. My question to YOU is - is it possible to leave messages and stuff without actually having to sign up to write your own blog first? Because if it is, that's gonna put a LOT of people off coming here, and that may mean having to shape up and ship out to another message board service.

So help me out here people - IS it possible to write here without being a "Blogspotter" - or not? And if it IS possible - how do you do it?

Review 121: Ladder 49

Come in Ladder 49 - your time is up.

Hey, you know something? You know those guys that jump into burning buildings and rescue people? Do you know they happen to be rather brave?

Well, if you did, you can walk away now because you've basically seen the entire point behind "Ladder 49: Firefighters Are So Brave, Aren't They?"

Call me a cynic all you want, but I want the movies I watch to have a little more story than that. Oh, wait - OK. Come back - there IS a story behind Ladder 49 after all. It's just not a very good one.

So, Brave Firefighter Joaquin Phoenix joins up with other Brave Firefighters, and the majority of the movie is centred around them, and the ha-ha-larious "manly" antics they get up to, including an "induction" ceremony that only the most stupid, gullible people in the UNIVERSE would fall for, and throwing beer kegs over one another. 'Cos they're guys, see? And all the while the worst possible fires break out (with no explanation why.. Jeez, you'd think there would be some little fires or cats to rescue from trees or something?) and every time Joaquin's moaning wife's worried face is shown because she's sure he's going to die THIS time.

And that's basically it. The thing is, the characters are so bland and uninspired, the plot so Cut-Out-And-Keep that we can't help but feel we've seen this sort of thing a thousand times before. Its more like a mid-afternoon TV movie than a big budget blockbuster, and having great actors like John Travolta and Robert Patrick in dull co-worker roles is such a waste of their talents that it beggars belief.

Big stars, big money - on a movie that's as exciting as a ladder in a pair of tights. A real waste.

Review 120: Brick

I love lamp.


For those not in the know, "I love lamp" is a quote from another Brick, he of "Anchorman" fame. I thought the quote was kinda fitting, in that the Brick from that movie made no sense either.

This is one of those movies where you're going to read a lot of overblown, pretentious reviews from people who like to pretend they "get it", throwing phrases like "film noir" at you like they actually have a clue what they're talking about. Ladies and gentlemen - IGNORE THEM ALL.

So, Brick, then. An attempt to fuse, oh-ho, "film noir" in a teenage environment. A nice idea, if it weren't so knuckle-chewingly embarrassing to watch. Hey, who wants to see 15 year olds talking like Humphrey Bogart, with all the conviction of an episode of Dawsons Creek? Anyone? Anyone?

The director was obviously so in love with his outrageous gimmick that he forgot to add even the slightest personality into his characters. This is one reason we do not care, one little bit, about anyone we're watching on screen - also the fact we don't believe ANYTHING we're watching, it's all so pointlessly ludicrous.

There is a good story buried under the corny dialogue and leaden delivery. It would be no less powerful if these were REAL teenagers in front of us, saying REAL things that teenagers have to say. There doesn't have to be bling-speaking idiots or Clueless-style stereotypes in a teenage movie. A film written by someone with the slightest idea of what teenage kids are actually like would be a start, (one person in the entire school has a mobile phone, for example) but what there DOES need to be is an actual story, with characters that people can relate to or at least care about - otherwise, what's the point?

Of course, the knee-jerk reactionary brigade are going to accuse me of being ignorant for not adoring their Movie Of The Year (that they were told to like). They'll say I didn't "get it". Oh, I got it - I just don't particularly want it.

Pretentious I can deal with. "Film noir" I can deal with. Trying something new, trying to be different - I can deal with. A tedious, gimmicky chore? The Curmudgeon can not deal with.

You want to see this year's best non-blockbuster movie? Try "The Proposition", and leave this well alone. Or, if you really want kids talking like gangsters for no real reason - there's always "Bugsy Malone." It's more believable to boot.

Review 119: The Toolbox Murders

One more nail in the horror-remake coffin.

ou know what's depressing? The sheer amount of horror remakes that have flooded the market in recent years. From the J-Horror Americanised versions to the glut of 70's and 80's retellings, it's like the movie business has run out of ideas altogether. Especially when they start scraping the barrel and churning out bilge like this.

To be honest, I haven't seen the original 70's movie, but I can only assume it's better than this. Hell, pulling your toenails out with pliers is probably better than this. For a start - it makes NO sense. There are so many unanswered questions and plot black holes, you're not so much hiding behind your fingers as counting the indiscrepancies on them. There's a whole host of things, like magic symbols and rapping on walls that adds to absolutely NOTHING, it makes you wonder just how many people were writing this movie. They almost certainly weren't working on the same one.

Then there's the killer himself, "Coffin Baby", a feeble attempt at a franchise villain if ever there was. The thing is, the movie attempts to make the film a who-dunnit, with loads of supposedly sinister and creepy red herrings floating around the hotel in an effort to make us think - "ah - he did it", except we don't, not once, not only because the DVD box has the killer on the front, but the movie has him running around the hotel at the start. Kinda kills the suspense, that.

Add the fact it nails every single horror movie cliché, and some fairly diabolical acting, and you're looking at one of the worst horror movies of the decade. Some nice gore, I suppose, but is that really enough anymore?

There are good horror movies out there. Don't let this trash steal any of your attention.

Review 118: Mousse T vs The Dandy Warhols - Horny As A Dandy

Barrel-scraping JUNK.

First things first - The Curmudgeon is a BIG fan of The Dandy Warhols. Got all the albums, seen them live - Courtney Taylor is a pefect front man - sexy, effortlessly cool and smart. He once commented that he didn't regret allowing "Bohemian Like You" to be used for a Vodaphone ad, because he bought his studio with the money. I only hope he's bought something equally nice for the money he must have received for this garbage.

So what is it, exactly? Well, it's one of those interesting-for-two-minute splicing of songs; this time Dandy Warhol's "Bohemian Like You", for the idiotic public the only song they ever released, and Mousse T's "Horny", that song you never wanted to hear again. And they're now together at last - just what no one on earth wanted.

It works well enough, I suppose, but then there are better (and worse) unofficial mixes out there (the Strokes "vs" Christina Aguilera, for example). Why this got greenlit as a single remains a mystery.

This is just a lazy, fairly uninspired remix. Take two well-established songs, take the music from one and put it behind the vocals of the other. Yawn - this got dull in 2004. And another thing, the title makes no sense; "Mousse T vs The Dandy Warhols - Horny As A Dandy?" No, no, no - if you're mixing "Horny" and "Bohemian Like You" shouldn't it be "Horny Like You", or even "Horny As A Bohemian?" God, even the TITLE sucks.

Mousse T can be inducted into the Official Room 101 of Amazon no problem at all. But inducting The Dandy Warhols? We're not loving that one bit. Still, it's not as if Courtney et al actually had anything to DO with this.

Let's just picture him receiving yet another fat cheque for this song, and hope one day the moronic public will actually buy something else the Warhol's bring out.

Review 117: Busta Rhymes - I Love My Chick

Crass, vulgar rubbish=big hit. There's a surprise.

You know, I've always had a lot of time for Busta Rhymes. Not only does his music contain more humour than the majority of dullards "spitting rhymes" right now, but he's always seemed to have an eye for, well, cool things. Think about it; he sampled both the music from Psycho and Knight Rider (to good effect), but also fought a Predator type thing in the "Fire It Up" video - AND had Mr. T appear in a video. Now that's the kind of guy The Curmudgeon could hang out with.

This offering though - is just turgid. Of course, the REAL title of the song isn't "I Love My Chick" (it's the "B" word that Amazon won't let me type) and this charming admission is echoed by personality vacuum Kelis saying "I love you ni**a". Lovely.

Nevermind that the song itself is humdrum, that it's merely treading water compared to some of the others Busta has released in the past, but because - shock horror - it has more than the average amount of rude words in it - it sells by the ton. Thank YOU, idiot public.

I have no problem with expletive laden songs. Sexy MF, by Prince, for example, is a tight, hook-filled gem, and Rage Against The Machine's "Killing In The Name Of" is just 100 kinds of awesome. But this is just purile garbage.

Busta - welcome to the Official Room 101 of Amazon. Your new song sucks - don't let it happen again.

Review 116 - FIFA: Voices From The World Cup

The soundtrack to the World Cup - in Hell!

Now, it's no secret The Curmudgeon is no fan of football (or soccer for the Americans). Don't like it, never have never will. But even I know what a football song should sound like and trust me, you'll find nothing of the sort anywhere on this wretched, cynical cash-in.

Of course, there's a difference between football chants and football songs. Chants are basically the same thing over and over, wheras songs have verses and a chorus. Over the years there has been some downright criminal attempts at football songs, and there have actually been some great ones (Vindaloo, 3 Lions, World In Motion - which is a rare beast - a great football song AND a great song to boot). They live forever in football stadiums, as fans sing them to the rooftops every game. I'm sure if you LIKED that sort of thing, it'd be great.

Now then, can you imagine ANY football supporters, ANYWHERE in the world, singing the likes of Dido, Kelly Clarkston and Toni Braxton? Ah yes, the rousing sound of 10 thousand football fans singing, um, "Why" by Annie Lennox. Of course.

Hmmm... you don't think this is just some random selection of songs cobbled together with a weak World Cup theme, do you?

It's laughable, it really is. Six months from now this same album will be re-branded The Best Christmas For Idiots Album - Ever! and the same idiots will buy it.

Voices from the World Cup? I can imagine..

Voice One: What does this have to do with the World Cup?

Voice Two: Nothing, of course. But if there is a picture of a football on it, the empty headed plankton will buy it anyway.


Don't even THINK about being fooled.

Review 115: Laurel and Hardy: All New Adventures - For Love

Here's another grave-robbing mess they've gotten us into.

I don't normally do this, but before I started writing this review I actually scrolled down and read a few other "opinions". The obvious one star ratings made me have a little faith left in humanity, but the amount of five star ratings made me hate everyone all over again.

And what is the REASON this insulting, possible legacy tarnishing catastrophe got five stars from these dim-bulbs? "It's a fun movie for kids." This is written on EVERY five star review (is it the same mouth-breather or what?) So, by THAT reckoning, re-making 911 but replacing the suicide bombers with cute fluffy animals, who put a furry paw over their eyes when they're about to crash, followed by a slide-whistle soundtracking the towers collapsing would be OK, too? 'Cos you know, that would be "harmless fun for kids to watch at Halloween time" too. Pffffff.

Anyway, I don't think I need to explain WHY this is so bad. Laurel and Hardy were too genuine one-offs. Genius entertainers who merged eye-watering slapstick with spot-on visual gags, with perfect timing and execution. These two hacks think that if they DRESS like Laurel and Hardy and try and SOUND like them, then the same big laughs will come thick and fast.

They don't. Not once. Not ever. Imitation may be the highest form of flattery in some aspects, but this is an insult, a cheap cash-in on a famous name. Don't be tempted, don't be fooled.

If people really ARE on the look-out for something to make their kids laugh, then show them the real Laurel and Hardy films. People falling through roofs and getting hit with ladders will ALWAYS be funny, especially if it's the two REAL masters at work. Show the kids Laurel and Hardy's "The Music Box", and leave this disgrace gathering dust where it belongs.

Review 114: Eminem - Mockingbird

Someone kill this mockingbird.

First of all, I have a lot of respect for Eminem. I'm not a massive fan or anything, but he genuinely did bring something new to the rap table, something which is still beyond most of the hopeless, bling obsessed, identikit idiots on MTV right now. He didn't rap about cars and girls and money like EVERY SINGLE OTHER RAPPER, he instead talked about his life, politics, controversy, celebrity.. he could be funny. He could be serious. Really - he could do it all. Oh, and forgive the past tense, but he's quit the business, apparently. I give THAT about a year.

Anyway, like I said - a lot of respect for Eminem for saying something NEW in hip hop. That's not to say he didn't say the same things over and over and over again (how many times did we have to hear that he hated his mother? We get it, guy).

Yes, family did play a large part in Eminem's music. When he wasn't "dissing" his mother or his ex-wife, he was throwing love at his daughter, Hailie. Like on this catastrophic effort, quite simply the worst single Eminem ever released (D12 efforts notwithstanding, that's more crap for another day).

Singing about (and indeed, to) your daughter is fine, but it's got to be done in a way, especially when it's coming from Mr Controversy Eminem, that doesn't make you want to gag. And when the opening lines are "Straighten up little soldier" the alarm bells begin to ring. When the song continues with "I'mma (sic) give you the world, buy a diamond ring for you, sing for you, I'll do anything to see you smile" you're not so much being sick as laughing hard and heartily.

And oh yes, he's going to sing for Hailie. Which means he's going to sing for us, too, giving one of the most fingernails down a blackboard chorus in years. You rap. You don't sing. Get Dido to do it for you next time again or something. Just.. don't ever sing. No matter how great the urge is.

This would be one of the last singles Eminem put out, but not before another (admittedly superior) vomit-fest about Hailie called "When I'm Gone". Seems that his biggest inspiration in life was also his creative Achilles heel. Go figure.

Not sure what Eminem is going to start rapping about when he inevitably returns. He milked the War/Bush ordeal to death (because, like, he really cared about it and stuff) and so I guess we can look forward to more verbal diarrhoea directed towards Hailie . Hold me back.

Review 113: Will Young - Light My Fire

Light this on fire.

Bad songs are everywhere. We all know that - switch on music television and you get bombarded with hateful music. That's nothing new. But sometimes, just sometimes.. you hear something that is so BAD, so downright AWFUL, that it truly takes your breath away.

Will Young's attempt at "Light My Fire?" You guessed it - that's one of those rare songs.

Will Young, then. You probably haven't heard of him in America (where, as a previous idiot said on here - you like "manly voices like Justin Timberlake." Someone get this kid a spot on TV - The greatest comedian in the world couldn't have come up with that), but he was our first Pop Idol, and has actually did the impossible and is still, like, around.

I'm not a music snob and I'll take anything at face value. Will Young, talented vocalist he may be, has never been, nor ever will be, my "bag." That's not to say he isn't a cut above the rest of the fodder that trundles through the Reality Television Road To Hell, but the day The Curmudgeon buys a Will Young CD will never happen.

Anyway, enough prattle - let's talk about what is quite simply one of the worst singles, and certainly one of the worst cover versions - of all time. The Doors "Light My Fire" is a brooding, smouldering sexually tinged classic. Jim Morrison was a true original, and (if the movie was to be believed) not for commercialising his music. So he must have been spinning like a tornado when he heard his music being butchered like this - and by the winner of a TV talent show.

To say this sounds nothing like the original is a hilarious understatement. Cover versions, of course, should sound different than the original (if not - what's the point?) and you should always inject a bit of yourself into the song - but what Will Young has injected is pure ear bleeding poison.

A feeble, slow drumbeat. A whiney, girly voice. A barely there rhythm. At best - it's just boring. At worst - it's damn insulting.

But of course, the purists and real music fans were up in arms, but of course - because he was on reality television The Scum bought it in droves and it was number one. Same old story. That's nothing new; Hell, when it comes to these brainless morons you could release a ringtone and it would get to number one.... oh, wait - that already happened.

So - Will Young. Went on to big things over here in The UK. According to a recent poll (conducted by - oh oh.. the public) Will Young is the greatest British male solo artist of all time. But he's already struck out twice on here, the Official Room 101 of Amazon.com.

Who do you think is right?

Review 112: Journey South - Journey South

Debut abomination from the Brothers Grim.

A sad, sad fact that this album, this wretched, soulless, manipulative album - was number one. But guess when it was released, True Believers? The week before Mother's Day. What a coincidence, eh? So, every stupid housewife in Britain got this as a Mothers Day present from their unimaginative "hey, we seen them on TV", teenage (probably pregnant) daughter.

So who are these gimps, then? Simple - reality television contestants. They didn't win it, of course, but since when did THAT mean anything anymore? We've already had the winner, Captain Bland's efforts, then we had the comedy foreigner Chico's "wacky" single, then there was that other guy who's name escapes me who looks like he's a week away from starvation - and now this. And who says these things are clogging up the charts? And, um, isn't it "the winner" who gets the record deal? But hey - there's a lot of morons who buy these things with plenty of cash to go round, so why not give everyone a shot?

What galls me is the absolute lack of any effort involved here. There's no soul, there's no passion - an album consisting entirely of cover versions. And not just covers that mean anything to these guys - the most predictable, easily recognisable popular songs out there. It's not just depressing, it's downright insulting.

What kind of musical heritage is today's generation being left with? Record after record of boring, smiley faced pub singers and karaoke chancers. Where "being a nice singer" means being a superstar.

Of course, this band won't last. These fly-by-nights never do. It'll be Reality TV Show number 435 soon, so there'll be another lorryload of faceless idiots for Generation Dead-Eyed to swoon over. I think I'm going to be sick.

Review 111: Friday Hill - Baby Goodbye

Friday 13th - unlucky for us.

Tch - boybands. They're like cockroaches. You think they've been wiped out, banished for eternity, but somehow they survive to spread misery and disease wherever they go and whatever they do. Usually it involves dire solo projects (this usually involves said former boyband member holding a guitar, because he's now a MUSICIAN. Facial hair is optional - a scowl is guaranteed).

There's also reality TV, where one of these saps turned up on (the idiot magnet that is Celebrity Big Brother) and now, here he is with two more of his ex-Blazin' Squad gimps to form Friday Hill.

If you've never heard of Blazin' Squad (lucky you), they were a dire popgroup attempting to be a hip-hop gang. Don't think Wu-Tang Clan, think more The Little Rascals. There was about forty of the little gits, so amongst all the fake posturing and "ghetto" hand gestures there was at least forty brain-cells floating around.

Anyway, onto this tripe. The hip-hop thing got old, so now they're attempting a more straight forward pop music thing. Guess what? It still sucks. They're three bland, painfully average boys who only got a deal because they were popular once.

This single didn't do too badly but the second fell off the radar in the blink of an eye. Then the "highly anticipated" album got to, er, 67. Whoops. "Baby Goodbye?" Got it one, chaps.

Official Fortress Of Solitude Announcement:

Sorry guys, it's that time of year again..


Sigh. Long time Fortress Dwellers may well recall a time last year when I had to take brief sabbaticals from the site - all in the name of knowledge.

Yeah, it's my Uni work. I have about a week left to finish my assignment, and I've done basically squat, what with one thing and another. So I'm afraid I'm gonna be out of here for a week or so. Yeah yeah - I'll miss you too.

So I've put up about ten reviews for you to comment on or whatever, and please remember The Curmudgeon's Voice Of Reason is on every week now, same Curmudgeon time and same Curmudgeon channel. And thanks to Wolfman's technical know-how, it now sounds better than ever.

Anyway, gotta go and hit the books. With a nice flying dropkick, if I had my way.

Till next time.. Curmudgeon out.