Why I love Fargo (the city, not that crappy, crappy movie!)

For those of you out there in cyberland who do know me know that I am not ashamed to say that yes, I am from Fargo, ND. I love Fargo. I hated the movie, but the town is the shit. Fargo is in North Dakota (The little red state just above South Dakota). Yes, there are two separate Dakotas. Just so you know.

Fargo has always felt more like Minnesota than North Dakota to me, though. We're the biggest city in ND, yet we're not the capital. If we were just a little closer to the Twin Cities they might be called the triplet cities because we too have our own dome. It's called the Fargo Dome, but I'm sure we'd have no problem selling out and calling it the Marshal Field's Dome or the AT&T Dome, or something like that. Since the Metradome already takes care of all the sporting events we'd just be another Target/Xcel Energy center. I love it when I tell people that Fargo has over 175,000 people and is constantly growing. People here are all like, "Wow, that's almost as big as Madison!" And my response is, "Yes, and next month the Indians hope to obtain electricity." These people have never been to the great plains that is Fargo. Oh yeah, and calling it the Great Plains, or the Red River Valley for that matter sure doesn't help people's perceptions of our lovely city. Especially when some women refer to their period as the Red River. Gross!

When I tell people to visit before they judge, it's usually in the summertime because that's when all the action happens. People don't do anything in the winter because they might die. Not just because it's below zero most of the time but also because it's hunting season. A season which allows some uneducated, lack of personal hygiene and common sense dimwit to not only carry, but use a high powered weapon. Not that all hunters are stupid, just the ones who mistake people for deer...Hello!? Otherwise, you could go sledding and do random front flips into the four foot marshmallow cushion that is snow in your backyard...but that's about it. In the summer time, though...whew is there stuff to do like...........um...........uh...........the uh.............construction's fun, right?

Oh wait, there's a Red Hawks game (which is the only semi-professional sport we have in Fargo so it's pretty damn sweet). If baseball isn't your cup of tea than go back to Britain where tea is your cup of tea. What? Uh, you could frequent one of two fairs that come around for about a week in July. You could go to the street fair which is a fair that takes place in the street, duh. It's actually pretty cool if you like to eat a lot of food that's not good for you...at all! And Lord knows I loves me some pork on a stick! Or you could attend the Red River Valley Fair that is almost like the street fair, but it's in a ginormous parking lot and when you're done eating the fatty foods here you can go on a ride to vomit them up and then go eat some more. It's great for bulimics everywhere. There's also live music that's either a washed up 80's band (Poison is still the shit, though because every rose really does have a thorn), or a non-washed up country singer like Tim McGraw (who apparently is really hot. I don't see it).

Speaking of fatty overpriced foods, the Rib Fest always comes to town to charge $8 for a basket of all taste and no meat. Here's a festival of dead pigs waiting to be sampled by all who dare to spend $40 for one meal. It's held at none other than our very own Fargo Dome. Not in the Dome of course, that'd be too classy for those rib guys. No, no this takes place right outside the dome in it's scenic.............parking lot? Well, what do expect from a festival hosted by a bunch of carneys who can cook.

Fargo also has a zoo. The Red River Valley Zoo, or the "great big farm for kids to torcher sheep and goats and horses and maybe even a cow here and there" zoo. Oh yeah, we also have camels. Yeah I know. How at home they must feel in the desert that is North Dakota. WTF?

Okay, so maybe I am making fun of Fargo, but no matter what you all think of it, it is my home and I am damn proud to say so. I only wish it could've landed on the other side of the river. Stay tuned to find out why, as much as I love Fargo, North Dakota is getting more and more on my nerves!

Peace out,
L-Kapitan

This Blog is Gay!

The what the Blog?! statement for this week is pretty gay. Literally. Again I'll have to start with a reference to Blockbuster and its intellectually amazing customers. This past week I received a phone call from a customer who wanted to, "make a comment about a movie." Ok? She had rented the movie De-Lovely which chronicles the life of Cole Porter who wrote show tunes for movies and plays in Hollywood. The customer kept saying she was not aware of "the content" of the film. Being the red blooded heterosexual male that I am, I assumed that because Ashley Judd was in the movie that there was nudity. Maybe she had a problem with other women's boobies. Lord knows I don't. I asked the customer if there was something wrong with the movie itself and she simply said that it was not what she had expected and that she did not care for..."The content" of the film.

I politely told her that Blockbuster does not refund money or give credit what-so-ever for a film simply because a customer did not like it. We didn't make the film and if she would've asked me what it was about I would have told it was the story of Cole Porter who wrote show tunes for films back in the day. I have not seen the movie nor did I know much more about Cole Porter. So that was all I could tell her. Perhaps she was thinking after she had told me what horrible thing was put into that movie I might find it in my God given heart to refund her money. Little did she know that I dislike ignorance of any sort. Finally, she got to her point.

She hesitantly said, "We didn't know it was about...homosexuality." As if saying the word was dirty in itself and I may take offense to hearing it. I did not take offense nor did I know what to say. Mostly because I didn't want to get fired. So, I reminded her that unless there was something wrong with the disc itself there was nothing I could do. What I wanted to do was tell her, "Well, if a movie is chronicalling the life of a man who wrote show tunes like Let's do it, let's fall in love there's a slight chance he could be gay." I also wanted to inform her that the movie itself was not about homosexuality, but rather about the life experiences of an extremely talented writer/musician...who happened to be bisexual. Further more, I would've loved to tell her, "Thank you for bringing that to my attention so that I may place a GAY warning label on the box in order to prevent the spread of homosexuality in the peaceful little town of Hudson, WI."

Now, the worst part about this story is that this was not the first time I had encountered homophobia at work. A few months earlier, a rather stoutly fellow had rented the 2 parts of Angels in America--the Tony Award winning play and Emmy Award winning movie series by Tony Kushner. When he returned them to the store I said, "Hello," and he said, "You need to take these movies off the shelf, throw them away and burn them!" I of course assumed that these movies must already be destroyed with scratches and fingerprints and what not. Again, my assumptions made an ass...out of him. Before I could ask him what the problem was, he told me: "They're about fagots!"

"That's fantastic," I thought and of course preceded to throwing the 2 discs in the trash and setting fire to them right there in the store just as he had requested. I shook his hand for saving my life and kissed him on the cheek for being an ignorant prick!

This has been a long, purging blog for me. I'd love to write more about this topic, but cannot do it tonight. Instead, I will leave you with the views of my customers and continue with my own thoughts at a later date. Thanks for reading. Please feel free to comment on this topic whether you know me personally or just came along this blog through curiosity and web surfing.

Peace out,
L-Kapitan

Go "F" Yourself Movies! (What the Blog?)!

What the Blog indeed! I have been f-in' around this f-in' website for the last hour trying to post this new blog along with my first blog like Miss Bloggy Blog Blog Princess Prokott over there with all of her blogs up the blog! Whew. Blog is my new favorite cuss word. It bloggin' blogs! Maybe I should start a "What the Blog" page of the week where every week I just write out something that really blogs me off. And I have to use the word blog as a swear word at least 10 times in the paragraph. Oh wait, that's what the whole blog website is for--blogging complaints. Hold on, one of my fat cats is snoring/purring curled up in the fetal position on my lap right now like a wee little baby.

Ok, so the what the blog comment for this week will be the NO MORE LATE FEEs latest piece of shit idea from corporate America that is Blockbuster. Instead of extending rental periods and lowering prices we'll just completely get rid of personal responsibility all together and not hold anyone accountable for anything! Sure the movie is due back in two days so that someone else in the world can watch it sometime this week, but you know what if you want to keep forever, you go right ahead. Oh and when you're charged the full price of the movie because we never think you're going to bring it back...just bring it back and we'll gladly refund you're money so you come back and rip us off again. Thank you and have a nice day you blogging blogger! My fellow co-worker and I have gotten so fed up with stupid customers lately (inferring that there might actually be intelligent customers out there...somewhere) We've decided to open our own movie store called Go F Yourself Movies! For those of you who don't mind the swears please feel free to insert the word FUCK every time the capital letter F appears in this blog. Here's how a typical visit might play through at Go F Yourself Movies:

1) The complete lack of taste customer asks for the movie Freddy Got Fingered, The Perfect Score, Get Carter, The Pledge, or any other Godforsaken movie that somehow got made. We inform that we don't carry crap and then tell them to go F themselves.

2) The illiterate customer asks for a specific good title like The Usual Suspects. We tell them it's in the Drama/Suspense section and if they can't find it because they don't know their F-in' alphabet we tell them to go F themselves.

3) Another illiterate customer returns a movie from another store that not only has a completely different name and location written directly on the box, but is also in completely different colors. We call them ignorant illiterate zipperheads who need to do the world a favor by dumbing down just a bit so maybe they can kill themselves out of stupidity and stop annoying innocent retailers. Then we tell them to go F themselves.

4) The final illiterate customer comes to the counter with the movie cover box in hand and asks if we have any copies of "this" in stock. We teach them the importance of education by "showing" them the exit sign, tell them not to come back until they've learned how to read, and then tell them to go F themselves.

5) The too busy to open an F'in case customer returns an empty case. We charge them a late fee, tell them they're retarded, and to go F themselves.

6) The lazy phone shopper customer asks for 87 movie titles, what our prices are, what came out in the past two months, and "what's good there?" We cut them off and inform them of our on-line rental option that might be more appropriate for such a lazy piece of shit like themselves. They thank us and we say, "No problem. Now, go F yourself."

8) The other lazy fat ass customer places a title behind a cover box that does not even closely resemble the title of the movie. We check the security camera to find out who placed it there, find that person, explain the fundamentals of reading and benefits of physical activity such as walking, tell them to put the movie back where it belongs and to go F themselves.

7) The clumsy customer comes along and knocks over a bunch of movies because they are either a: Wasted. b: Haven't learned how to walk yet. c: Lacking in parental supervision, or d: Just plain retarded. We ask them not so nicely to pick up their F'in mess, get the F out of our store and to go F themselves.

9) The criminal customer coming in to get free movies by sticking them in their oversized coat pockets comes in to rip us off. We catch them, beat the living crap out of them until they pass out and give us time to call the cops. We have them arrested, videotape their anal rape in prison, publish it on our Go F Yourself Blog, and actually don't tell them to go F themselves because someone by the name of Nasty Nate has already done so by making them his bitch.

10) The cheapskate, irresponsible customer bitches about their $80 late fee for a movie that was rented three months ago and still hasn't been returned. We make them pay the $80 late fee. Then we tell them to go to Blockbuster, because they don't have late fees. Oh yeah, and when we hand them their change we say, "Here's your change. Why don't you use it to buy a dildo and go F yourself!"

That's the basic idea of Go F yourself Movies. The back room is in the back. The new release wall is along the wall. The old stuff is everywhere else. So please check your illiteracy and lack of common sense at the door. And if you have a whiney/screaming kid who should be in bed because it's after 9 pm, and you let the little bastard do whatever it wants, get the F out of our store and Go F Yourself! Anyone interested we'll be hiring early 2006! References needed, prior experience not.

Peace out!

Cuz I's crazy nots to!

First off, I'd like to thank my good friend Ms. Prokott for showing me the on-line scribe universe that is Blog. Thank you. The timing of this e-mail is almost serendipitous considering my mood lately. I'm getting very frustrated here in bumble F Wisconsin where I do nothing but work, complain about not doing real work but sit on my ass until four in the morning and sleep until two in the afternoon until I have to go to work again. I have hundreds of ideas in my head and no outlet to bring them to. I can't write for myself anymore because I feel like I'd just be wasting my time. Instead of making movies I rent them. Instead of going back to school I try to teach myself. And instead of reading or writing I sit around the apartment with my fat cats and wonder why they can gain weight so easily and I can eat a 20 piece, a big mac, and an order of fries at Micky D's without gaining a pound since high school.

Reading over this...what should I call it? Essay? Paragraph? Train of random how the hell did I end up in Wisconsin bullshit? Whatever it is, it's not as depressing as it sounds. I really do thank Jean for showing me this because writing is good for us writers who like to write the written word, right? I don't know where that came from but I'm keeping it in here just because I can. Well, my hands are freezing so I'm going to make me some hot cocoa, finish another bag of my mom's great Christmas cookies to try and gain a bit more weight...Fight Club is on. Gotta go.

Peace out!