Jox, Rex, Sex in Lex and W ran in Tex

Some people are adamant that they get a flat screen monitor for their computer. They insist that the extra $200 is money well spent to free up the extra space on their desk. Free it up for what? Pictures of their kids? Most people have a flat box for a CPU, which takes up as much room as a CRT, so why bother with a flat screen? WTF?
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So I’m watching this movie called “Robot Jox”. I supposed that it was some low fare action aiming at mediocrity. But as the credits started, I realized that the name of this movie was “Robot Jox” and therefore, even mediocrity is asking too much.

The premise is that war is outlawed (and enforced by WHO??) and all disputes are handled by rock ‘em sock ‘em robots piloted by – yes, jockeys of robots, or Robot Jox. Are ya with me so far?

The lead chick isn’t even hot. Don’t tell me that they got this not-hottie based on her acting chops. The name of the movie is Robot Jox, ok? And I expected a low budget, but they got me thinking “So that’s what they did to the old Buck Rogers set.” The centerpiece of the movie, the robots, moved in claymation-like spastic jerks, like an old Godzilla flick. And the plot? Let’s not even go there. The name of the movie was Robot Jox. If they’re piloted by human beings, they’re technically not robots – but whatever.

How’s this for impossibly lousy writing: At the climax, the villain and hero both drop their weapons and give each other a thumbs up. I am not sh!tting you, I swear, it’s that bad. The final line of dialogue? “We are… ROBOT JOX!!” If you thought about it, this laughable cinematic gem really couldn’t have ended any other way.
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Lousy writing? That calls for a Rex Moron update: Same as before plus one week.

Probably the most interesting thing all month was when the Rex Morgan artist mistakenly drew the speech balloon to a talking chair. The human characters all appear wooden, and never open their mouths, so what’s the difference, really?

I’m hoping the chair becomes an important player in this current story line and solves the crime in the end. Rex and his family express their sincere gratitude. The chair then says that it will now search for justice for the devastation done to the world’s forests. Rex and June appear stunned. In the next day’s strip, they simply grab the chair and plop their flabby tushies. “But I foiled the crime…!”
“You’re a chair.”
“But I’m a talking chair! I can sing an aria in the chord of …. Mmmrrff!“ His voice is drowned out as Rex dumps his big, smelly ass on to the seat, muffling its righteous protest. Abbey the Wonderdog barks in approval.
A loud trumpet-like fart blast emerges from under the table. Everyone looks at Rex. “What? That was the CHAIR.” Suddenly, June’s assistant calls on the phone and it’s off to another ponderous, climax-free adventure.
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In the Southern-to-English dictionary, “bless yore hart” translates to “you dipsheeit!” Fell asleep in the road and woke up with a GMC parked over your face? Aww, bless yore hart! Fell out of a deer huntin’ perch and broke yore leg? Awww, bless yore hart! Got thrown out of a strip club for groping the owner’s wife? Awww, bless yore… Y’all oughta know not to grab the waitresses in there, you stupid dipsheeit!

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I read that W once ran the Houston marathon. So I checked. He came in at 3:44, so I whipped his ass by over half an hour. Yah, boy!

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What’s with the Sam’s Choice brand? Wal-Mart’s iconic founder, Sam Walton, was notoriously cheap. Even after becoming a billionaire on paper, he still drove a 40 year old Chevy pickup. Yet, somehow, years after his demise, he rose from the grave to pronounce a particular kind of coffee and other select products worthy of his name. Never mind that he probably drank Maxwell House during his life. Sam’s Choice Coffee is what he would have drank if he hadn’t shed his corporeal form.

So, I suggest a commercial running something like this:

“After a hard night of rolling over in my grave, I often need a pick-me-up in the morning. Hi, I’m Sam Walton, deceased founder of the Evil Wal-Mart. The fine aroma of hot Sam’s Choice Brand coffee really lifts my spirits (get it, spirits?) and its taste is – well, it’s a whole lot better than dirt. Working from below, I choose the beans grown from the strongest root systems in the world. So if you need a rich, rewarding cup of java to get you through those tough days before the afterlife, make Sam’s Choice your choice. Try our economy size freeze dried packs – they’ll last an eternity!”

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Now we find out that Lexington ranks at the bottom of Men’s Health magazine’s list of sexually active cities. Say it with me: No sex in Lex. But really, how the hell would Men’s Health know what happens in our bedrooms? And I live in a small town north of Lexington, thank you for not asking.