random brain dribbles of a nurse, novelist, and ninja enthusiast

The Dark Knight Has Risen, He Has Risen Indeed

Part 1: Ultramasculine Sperm


Today, we completed our second doctors appointment and I took two things from it: we might be having a boy and I have ultramasculine sperm. Let me explain: leading up to this appointment two separate individuals have told us we would be having a boy. One of these was the registered nurse assigned to the doctor we are seeing, further solidifying the sex of our future child. Considering we are still two weeks away from our ultrasound and there is no other reliable way to visualize whether we are having a boy or not, I can only assume they came up with this based upon my ever present hypermasculinity.Some of you may argue this based on how scrawny I am, but obviously my scrawniness is just a biological imperative to keep other animals from becoming intimidated by my manliness. Since my sperm contains the yyy chromosomes (extra chromosome to ensure manliness) it can clearly overpower any x genes. My stuff is probably laced with testosterone.


Warning, Blow Jobbers Beware: Even partial exposure to my sperm could cause beard growth, testicular dropping, or at the very least rampant lesbianism.


I also saw a magazine at the appointment which advertised for a baby genius course with some pretty bold claims. Apparently, our child can learn ASL, three languages, and various other interpersonal skills to prepare them for their first years of life (our kid will drool in Spanish!). I was all set to sign up our future child, but after seeing both the price and location, decided against it. Besides, I could teach our kid Spanish.


Me: Hola, homo estas


Any latin guy: Uh, don’t you mean como estas.


Me: Oh yeah, right.


After the appointment we headed to Bed Bath and Beyond Boredom to bide our time/spend all our money before watching the three hour epic that was The Dark Knight Rises.


Part 2: The Dark Knight Rises…in my pants


First, note how hilarious adding in my pants makes any situation, despite the obvious reality that any darkness associated with my genitalia would likely necessitate immediate transport to the hospital (penile ischemia/frostbitten cock?).




I enjoyed The Dark Knight Rises except for some obvious problems related to the voice work. This movie provided us with Bane who is the Jar Jar Binks of vocal talent. I don’t appreciate it when someone puts a mad scientists voice into a steroid jockey and expects no one to bat an eyelash. Every time Bane utters a sentence in the movie you half expect his character to mix up chemicals in beakers he has hidden somewhere in his coat pockets. His voice is of course second only to Batman’s. I can’t stand Batman’s stupid raspy voice.

You are Batman. You have cars that fly, a rocket propelled bike, and every manner of explosive devise, provided by a research and development devision of your multibillion dollar empire easily putting Halliburton to shame and Waynetech can’t find software to modulate your voice. By the end of the movie you want to punch Batman in the throat so he just naturally speaks in a raspy tone. At the very least he could smoke a pack of cigarettes every now and then? The emphysema might be worth it. He’s probably doing more damage to his vocal cords just by straining.


The other part of the movie I couldn’t stand was the ending. Apparently, Batman decides to drop a major nuclear device over the bay to ensure the death of thousands of sea creatures, his really expensive aircraft, and millions of Gothamites. At best half the population of Gotham is sterile and at worst half the population of Gotham is dead within the next couple months. I’m also tired of seeing bombs in movies, period. It seems like every other television program or movie I watch has to involve a Bomb of some sort.

When it comes to bombs and television, nothing will suffice short of nuclear. It’s as if every technological advancement involving explosives following Alfred Nobel can be completely dismissed as perfectly safe except for the nuclear bomb. Do the movie studios have focus groups for what constitutes a sufficiently terrifying explosive device? Have people decided that C4 is just not scary anymore. Personally, I would be just as terrified if Bane strapped explosives directly to his body. This is especially true if combined with the chemically filled beakers hidden in his coat pockets. I’m not sure what those two things do together, but I’m not about to find out.

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