Originally aired on CBS in 1978, The Star Wars Holiday Special tells the story of Chewbacca and Han Solo flying to Chewbacca’s home world to celebrate Life Day, a Wookie holiday that is similar to Christmas.

It marks the first appearance of Boba Fett, if that’s enough to get you to watch all two craptastic hours.

Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Anthony Daniels, Peter Mayhew, Art Carney, Diahann Carroll, Harvey Korman, and Beatrice Arthur, and Chewbacca’s father, Itchy star.

The Star Wars Holiday Special (1978)

Happy Life Day, pal.

Enjoy.

For the first time in a couple of years, I’ve dropped below the average four posts a week. It’s not you, it’s me. We’ve been working hard to get the house ready so that we can move this Saturday, and now, I’ve been told, I have to help pack.

I explained to #1GF! that the internets take priority over packing, but she had this strange look in her eye and I think I caught a glimpse of her choking hands. I did not think it prudent to requisition a lackey to pack things for me at that juncture, so the posts are going to slow to a trickle for a little bit.

If anyone wants to spend this Saturday wrenching their backs moving people who are past the age where they should be asking friends to help them move, call me or #1GF!. For the rest of you, check out a few of the 1500+ posts in the archives and wish us luck…

I’ve been avoiding pants and sweatshirts for a couple of weeks now, pretending that the cold isn’t eating away the last few bits of summer, but when the front loaders come in and steal your lifeguard chairs, you know the summer season is coming to an end. You’ve only got one day left before the summer will officially be over, so make the most of it.

And no, this is not a license to “bust out the banana hammock one last time”. Yes, I am talking to you.

The Toothbrush is a mustache that was originally made famous by Charlie Chaplin, but it’s so far out of use today that I didn’t think to include it in my beard quest. After getting a lot of e-mail pointing out my omission, I had to figure out a way to include it that would naturally imply a reference to Chaplin and not make me look like one of history’s biggest douches.

I planted the Toothbrush in the list so that it changed when the mouse passed over it, and waited for #1GF! to find it. Like a lot of people, she never did.

Once I pointed out the mouseover to her, she suggested that it needed its own post in case other people missed it, too. Even though it’s a pretty lame to point out your own easter eggs, I figured that revealing this picture should keep me out of corporate offices everywhere and let me stay home and write forever.

Some of the people that have been stopping in to check out my quest for every beard type have mentioned that they are incapable of ever knowing the macho feeling that comes with wearing a full beard. For those folks, there is now a flash application called Mustachr that allows you to add over 90 types of facial hair to any photo. The only drawback is that you need an account to save anything, but there’s nothing stopping you from using [Alt] PrintScreen to copy and paste your creation into your favorite art program.

Need Proof of Awesomeness?

This was me as a kid. If I had any idea what kind of ass kicking comes with plaid shirts, thick glasses, and lunch bags with my name on them, I might’ve posted a Mustachr-ized picture on my Myspace page that looked so ultra-badass that it would’ve deterred a lot of scraps in the school yard.

Oh yea. When I was a kid, there was no Myspace. Hell, Prodigy wasn’t even though of yet. GI Joe had a beard and pong was blowing everybody’s minds with the sheer awesomeness of two lines and a bouncing square. We had no internet, and no Mustachr. If I did though, you can bet that I would have added a few pics like these:

It looks like Netflix has added around 288 movies to the Watch Instantly service in the last couple of weeks, putting the total number of titles at a little over 4400 movies. I’ve listed 12 that stand out, and all 288 additions and 63 deletions are listed below.

It seems like Netflix is continuing on their quest to add TV shows that I haven’t thought about since I was a kid. Yet another season of Adam 12, The Incredible Hulk, and Quantum Leap were added, which I might be able to understand because they’re mildly entertaining. I might even be able to understand that adding a couple of seasons of Leave it to Beaver might be justifiable in a hokey sort of way.

Where they lost my support is when they added two more seasons of Gimme A Break, six seasons of Simon & Simon, and five seasons of Kojak. I don’t care how many times I’ll listen to Telly Savalas singing “Who Loves You Baby, I’m not sitting through him or Nell Carter in 60 minute doses. Are there really people out there who are demanding these shows enough to justify wasting the disc space on them? Seriously?

Not to worry, though. They completely redeemed themselves with their decision to add that craptastic vintage television show, Lancelot Link: Secret Chimp. How can you argue with the comedic value of a spy show acted out by an all-monkey cast? I can’t watch the show for five minutes without laughing. Try it. If you don’t laugh, you may need to call a doctor. I’m serious.

As always, if I missed one of your favorites, be sure to drop it in the comments…

Recommended Netflix Watch Instantly New Additions (12)

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

If you could have a super power:

• Space / Time Control: 53%
• Mind Control: 19%
• Ability to fly: 15%
• Invisibility: 15%
• Self Healing: 10%
• Super strength: 3%

By a huge majority, the most popular super power is the abilty to reverse the flow of time. Mind control was the second choice, which is understandable, but I have a hard time believing that you all would be beaming “put down the gun” more often than “take off them pants”.

The ability to fly and invisibility tied for third place, meaning that never getting your junk jostled by the TSA again is on equal footing with an all-access pass to any locker room or bank vault in the world. Maybe I can understand that.

Where I think the results get a little odd is near the bottom. The combined total number of people who wanted self-healing and super strength didn’t match the next level up. Is no one interested in throwing cars or lifting trains with one hand any more? Has brute force fallen from grace as an admirable trait?

More importantly, is the ability to live a corrected, but perfect life through time control more attractive than accumulating and endless list of mistakes that would accompany the immortality of Self-healing?

How did you vote and why?

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Best Holiday Gift Ever

• 2 Girls, 1 Cup: 57%
• A Day With Mr. T: 16%
• An R2-D2 Trashcan: 11%
• Whirled Peas: 10%
• A RL friend [sniff]: 6%

The holidays are over and things are starting to return to normal because I am once again completely and utterly concerned for you people. A full 57% of you think that a couple of naked girls eating crap and throwing up on each other is the best holiday gift ever. You like it better than friends, you like it better than World peace, hell, you even like it more than an R2D2 Trash can. I don’t get it, but I suppose I can accept all that as a matter of personal preference.

What I cannot accept is that you want it more than spending a full day with Mr. T. Do you have any idea how awesome a day with Mr. T would be? Do you? As if having a beard-connected mohawk and saying “I pity the fool” all the time isn’t awesome enough, Mr. T always seems to have a blowtorch on hand, and can make a tank out of almost anything. How can you not think that is awesome?

Here is a velvet painting of Mr. T from my personal collection to make you pity yourselves for your choices. Yes, those are real simulated gold flecks glued around his neck.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Hey What About Beards?

• Two Words: Chuck Norris: 46%
• Macho and sort of hot: 25%
• Ok for the winter: 13%
• I like my men like I like my pets: hairless and obedient: 15%

For once a poll has gone my way and I’m not the least bit worried about you people. 85% of you have some form of affinity for the beard and almost half of you agree that beards are totally kick ass. I’m going to take that as a win for the mountain men, and say that the modern woman is looking for a King Leonidas instead of some hairless pet that’s closer to a lady than a man.

Congratulations, folks. This. Is. SPARTAAAAA!

For those of you who didn’t get a chance to vote (or were voted down), at least you can enjoy some of the wonderful beard shaving creations on my beard page.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Who won Finetune Friday Battle of the Sexes?

• Less talk, more lube : 62%
• Kang (the men): 16%
• Everybody wins: 14%
• Kodos (the women): 8%

You folks don’t really care about these polls, do you? You’re pretty close to thinking that men and women are equals, but if pressed, you think the dudes beat the ladies. In general, you don’t care either way as long as the lube is plentiful and the talk is not.

Congratulations, lubers. After I print up the “Party Naked” t-shirts in your honor, I will coat them in grease before shipping to ensure that they make it to your dungeon lubed up and ready to go.

For those of you who didn’t get a chance to vote, at least you can enjoy all the great playlists that survived the battle. Check my FineTune Friday Page for more info.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Are you…

• Buuuuck Naked! : 39%
• A Geek: 25%
• A Nerd: 16%
• A Jock: 11%
• A Dork: 9%

I thought the naked people from the last poll were a fluke, but for the second time in a row, the nudists got the happy ending. I mean that they won the poll. Oh boy. They’re on top? They overcame? Gah. You know what I mean.

Congratulations, nudists. I’m considering printing up a batch of Dyers.org “Party Naked” t-shirts in your honor… Not that you’d wear them.

For rest of you claiming Geek, Nerd, Dork, or Jock status, maybe it’s time you either join the winning team or prove your title by taking the Dyers.org Geek, Nerd, Dork, or Jock Quiz. It even includes handy code to post your results to your web site.

Drop me a comment and tell me where you stood.

I was just joking the other day about when I first came home a few years ago after my so-called “friends” helped my ex-wife move out. We were laughing about how the place was so picked clean that it looked like the Grinch had swept through. So I found it strange that the woman who spent my every dime and last ounce of patience dragging me through a rotten, two year divorce (only to show up to the court hearing pregnant) coincidentally sent me an e-mail wishing me a happy birthday.

She tries to contact me every year or so, so my question is this:

If Satan herself sent you a chummy happy birthday message, would you:
A.) Stock up on holy water and kevlar,
B.) Block her address on yet another account,
C.) Be classy and reply with a “Thank you for the wish, but please try to respect my privacy” e-mail,
D.) Speak your mind, but guarantee a flame war, or
E.) Delete the e-mail and feel badly that it never dawned on you that your ex could probably have competed in the Special Olympics if only you encouraged her more.

I just don’t get it.

Ripped off from Keidra

Four jobs you’ve had in your life:
Lifeguard
Mutual Fund Accountant
Propain pumper
UberNerd

Four movies you could watch over and over:
Amelie
Donnie Darko
Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back
Bad Boys II

Four places you’ve lived:
Inside a bottle,
On stage with the band,
In the middle of an underdog fist fight, and
Staring at molten lava 4 miles from safety,

Four TV shows you love to watch:
Arrested Development
Fear Factor
Family Guy
The Office

Four places you’ve been on vacation:
Sweden
Washington State
Amoeba Records, San Francisco
Hawaii

Four websites you visit (at least) daily:
LifeHacker
Slashdot
Digg
McAfee

Four of your favorite foods:
Duck
Parmigiano Reggiano
Ting Ting Jahe
Brigham’s Big Dig Ice Cream

Four places you’d rather be:
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records

Four albums you can’t live without:
Slayer – God Hates Us All
The Haunted – One Kill Wonder
Neutral Milk Hotel – In the Airplane over the Sea
Minor Threat – Complete Discography

I usually finish off my sentence at the gym with legs because they take so much out of me. I had gone through my regular stuff, and had added power presses and dead lifts, so I was beyond tired by the time I got situated under the 450 lbs. I loaded on the leg press rack. I pushed up, unlocked the safety latches and started the set like I normally do. Except this time:

1… 2… 3…. 4… Phhhhbbbbttttt.

Yup. Completely unexpectedly, my colon decided that I was too tired to press the weight myself and shot a blast of malodorous might to help push the weight to the top of the sled.

I think I finished the remaining 8 reps in record time.

If there was a woman within 20 feet, I will guarantee that I would’ve been beet red and stammering, but because it was just meat heads and teenagers, I hope someone at least got a chuckle out of it.

I know I would’ve.

Today, I took the day off to do some Xmas shopping. I drove over 100 miles to 4 different malls to pick up 5 things that I needed. This took approximately 8 hours.

I already have to return 2 things because I consistently forget that the rest of the world is not left-handed.

It cannot be disputed that I was born without a shopping gene.

(I might be coaxed into admitting that shopping could’ve taken a mere 7 hours if I hadn’t spent some time giggling like a dope while clicking headlamps on and off in REI, but I’d you’d have to give up some small secret of your own first.)

In Vietnamese it means “blessing,” and if I ever have kids, I am seriously considering “Phuc”, if there’s ever a #1Son!.

At this point, laughing is not only culturally insensitive, but ensures that you will have to repeat your corporate sponsored diversity training. And because some of us grew up in an area with one of the largest Asian populations South of Boston, we know that the name is Vietnamese, so the middle names “Ng” and “Yu” are both improbable and unsuitable because they are Chinese.

“Dat”, on the other hand, may be acceptable. And little Phuc Dat Dyer will be trained in so many phuc’in forms of Kung Fu that he will seriously split you in half if you even think about grinning at his kick-ass name. Even if you’re a ninja. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

I have been watching too much Kung Fu. Warn #1GF!.

(Note: It should not be inferred that there isn’t any sort of child on the way. This was spawned by a sign I saw that read, “Reserved for Phuc our new intern. (sic)”)

On the way to the gym, traffic stopped to a halt in the middle of a two lane divided highway. The reason? A woman was trying to get a wild turkey off of the road and was only successful at chasing it around her car. The rest of us, like the non-interactive spectators that America is now famous for, were watching her through our windshields and laughing like crazy.

I got the car serviced all the way up in Medford where the service manager owns an ’04 EVO. Stock, the car is 276 HP and runs a 13 second quarter mile. He had bumped his to 430 HP and was running an 11. I simply cannot fathom that kind of power.

After that, we headed to check out the freshly opened IKEA store, which seemed to be an unholy union between a Target and a Home Depot. The place is huge and packed with gay dudes and overdressed, New York looking bitches who would run you over if you stood between them and the faintest whiff of a bargain. I’m 6 feet and 2 bills, and these women didn’t even notice me.

The one thing that I can give them credit for, is those Swedes sure know how to make a kid’s room look fun. A parent could really create some seriously cool rooms for their kids on the cheap.

After 4 hours, I ended up snagging a mirror, a red trash can, and a $12 French Press, which I got one cup of coffee out of before breaking. All in all, if you want to go to Target with a major parking problem, head for IKEA. Do it once. You have to at least see it.

On Saturday, I went to a 2 year old’s birthday where the following occurred:

Mom: [to 2 year old] Do you want me to change your diaper?
2YO: No.
Mom: Do you want auntie to do it?
2YO: No.
Mom: Do you want Jooooooonnnniiieeeee to do it?
2YO: [big smile] YES!
Me: No. Auntie. Aun-tie. She said “auntie”.

Then, on Sunday, some friends drove all the way down to the South Shore to have brunch with #1GF! and I. One couple is having a baby and the other is getting married. It’s hard to come up with something comparable to that so I lied about being the new bassist for Metallica. Everyone from the South Shore knows that this is a total lie, because I rejected Metallica’s offer with a hand written note that simply said, “Get fucked, nancies. WarHammer Rules.”

And here I am at the end of a three day weekend looking ahead to a 4 day week.

I’m off today, so no big post. All I can offer is Pandora (via fazed), which is supposed to play songs that are similar to to a song or artist that you like. It’s like musicplasma with sound or Yahoo radio with simpler ratings. It seemed like a good way to find new music, but it didn’t seem to be all that accurate, yet. And giving me 5 songs and then telling me to sign up is irritating.

I’ve been sick all week, and my Barry White/Ton-Loc voice has become more like the guy from the movie trailers. Thus, I have been starting every sentence with “In a world…”

It’s not much trouble to sound like your aunt Grace who smokes a couple packs of Pahliaments a day, either, honey

Now, if I could keep the voice and drop the whole coughing up snails thing…

(Does anyone else realize that Vicks Vapo-rub contains turpentine? It does. I’m breathing turpentine. Blame me not for this post.)

Today, I find myself at the beginning of the first cold that I’ve had in a long time. It has somehow tuned my voice down to an octave typically reserved for Ton-Loc or Mr. Barry White. I can’t seem to say anything without sounding inadvertantly sultry enough that my sentences seem incomplete without “baby” tacked onto the end. Of course I resist this temptation because I’ve read the corporate policy, and I really don’t think that I’m smooth enough to explain to HR just why people keep screaming and throwing their bras at me.

If I could only capitalize on this in print.

Woke up at 3 AM dizzy as if I had the spins. As I don’t drink anymore, it was a really strange feeling. This lasted for about 36 hours until I dumped a bunch of alcohol in my ear and laid on a heating pad. I’m blaming something trapped in my ear throwing everything off.

The last time this happened I had to get a ton of tests and an MRI, all of which turned up nothing.

I’m glad that these episodes are a couple of years apart.

I drove by a billboard that proclaimed, “Use candles with care. Fire Prevention week October 9-15.”

Men don’t light candles, so this one goes out to the ladies. Five years ago, a candle in my house was left unattended for 10 minutes and burned my house in 20.

Total Cost: 2 years and $200,000 USD.
Total Gain: 1 expensive divorce, 1 #1GF!, and some worthy experiences.

Talk is cheap, so here are some pictures.

My clock

my stairs

1600 of my records

And me.

I don’t care what week it is, ladies. Fuck unattended candles.

I have no idea what the hell I ate yesterday, but when I farted in the shower this morning, I actually uttered “OH JESUS!” and ran back and forth from spigot to towel rack in a primal panic trying to escape. I was so blinded by revulsion that there was only a sliver of sanity keeping me from barreling through the shower curtain and onto the floor like some smelly, soaking Frankenstein monster.

The only thread stopping me was the thought of the #1GF! busting through the door fully expecting Armageddon, only to find me ass in the air tangled in a shower curtain staring up at her shocked face. The only words that I could hear myself muttering before she killed me or died laughing were simply, “Sorry. Farted.”

And then as fast as I had been besieged, I was suddenly and miraculously released, returning me to the business of getting 99 and 44/100 percent clean.

Oh, I wasted this day big time. I think I watched 2 episodes of Jerry Springer and that show where they say “you are NOT the father” and the chicks scream and run off stage. The biggest thing that I did was try to get sunglasses from one of those 2 for $20 carts in the mall. I didn’t get any because the foreign girl working the cart kept handing me glasses that made me look more like an ice princess than Ice T. The best that I could do on my own was either “cop” or “Asian gangster.” Where have all the Ice T glasses gone?

Sunday
Today, we got to go see #1GF!’s cute-as-a-button niece who is just crossing the age where children are wary of me. She’s still in that “pick me up and hold me” age where #1GF! is more appealing than climbing on the jungle jon. Soon, she will cross into the age of of “chuck me around the room” where Jon will dominate. Enjoy it now, auntie. The End is neigh.

I then somehow developed a motherfucker of a migraine and spent 4 hours hiding from light and sound, recovering just enough to go to a cookout with some of my friends. Even though I’ve known them for at least 15 years, no one hit me in the nuts once. That shouldn’t have to be counted as a benefit for a cookout, should it?

Friday
We went kayaking with my parents and I accidentally swamped my kayak while goofing off. A dry hold is where you store all the stuff you want to stay dry when you swamp your kayak. The air pocket that it creates also stabilizes the kayak while you get back to normal. When you treat a regular hold like a dry hold, you will have to drag all your wet stuff to shore before you can even think about emptying it out.

Thursday
We went to the beach all day. While walking around…
#1GF!: “Jon!”
Jon: “Huh?”
#1GF!: “You look like you’re going to kick someone’s ass.”
Jon: “Me? [guy sidesteps me] I think it’s just the way my face is.”

It’s that time of year again when I do the batch buy of pants. In the old days, I’d walk into the Gap, point at Khaki and buy six pairs. Done. Now, every fucking store that sells khakis either eliminates or changes the name of the style as soon as I buy them, leaving me so confused that I eventually end up walking up to clerks pointing at my pants like a moron asking, “Do you have pants that look like these?”

But, I had to buy pants, and I had to start somewhere, so I started at the Gap. Within 10 feet of the entrance, I couldn’t see any khakis at all. While listening to the thump of the house music in a sea of pink shirts, I noticed a manequin across the store which was wearing the only pants that I could see. As I got closer, I realized that although the manequin was in the mens’ section, the legs looked like thin, little lady legs. And the pants looked like something a girl trying to be boyish would wear rather than a stock set of “these are comfortable and they match anything, so don’t worry about it” pants. I thought that I either entered the wrong store or that they must’ve dropped the P in GAP in favor of a Y.

Lost, and a good 15 minutes into my 20 minutes of annual shopping, I left the store confused.

I had the same luck in all the Gap clones like Eddie Bauer and some other ones, and there was one that I can distinctly say that I actually said “No way” out loud instead of going in because the store was dimly lit enough to be a romantic hideawy and was coated with black and white pictures of topless dudes pouting.

I thought that a tight pink top and form fitting pants might project the wrong image for me. I think what I’m going for is more “These clothes might not be stylin’, but they match and you can’t see my naughty bits” rather than “These clothes are velcro, and insert your naughty bits when I’m not paying attention.”

After wasting my annual 20 shoping minutes in this manner, I left the mall, pissed and irritated.

Sure that I was going to be forced to follow this new trend, I headed to the outlet mall so that at least my new effeminate look wouldn’t cost me full price. But, because I’m not the most knowledgable fashion shopper, what didn’t I think of? (The ladies know, don’t you, ladies?) Yea. When the new effeminate fashion overlords took over, where did they ship all the basic man clothes to sell off to the fashion unconscious? They were shipped to the outlet mall.

I think it took a mere 20 minutes and 200 dollars to buy another full wardrobe of Garanimal like man fashion that didn’t involve the color pink, the letter “y” or anything vaguely stylish. And to top it all off, I got a new pair of Vans.

I have to say it was the best shopping day that I ever had in my life because I had finally lucked the fuck out and will happily live style free for yet another year.

Friday
I was supposed to have the day off, and ended up working from home all day. At what point did work take highest rating spot in my life? When will what I enjoy get more time than that which I don’t?

Saturday
I was thinking that it was odd and slightly cool that a carload of girls was so into Star Wars that they yelled, “3P0!” out the window at the #1GF! and me. “Oh that’s nice” the #1GF! said sarcastically. Knowing that the #1GF! doesn’t like Star Wars, but doesn’t hate it enough to get offended by the mere mention of C3P0, I asked “Wait, what did they yell?”

“Eat Me Out. What did you think they said?”

Sunday
I went out on my porch to read the housing section and I somehow started talking to the woman downstairs. As a pretty anti-social guy, I found it pretty interesting that we talked for an hour. Even more amazing was that the #1GF! came out and we all talked for another 2. You have no idea how much people will tell me about their lives, and how little I will provide them about myself.

Monday
Jerry Springer presented me with this point to ponder: What will the woman do for a face when the dog calls to get his ass back? I guess only Jerry and the dog know for sure.

I’ve been trying to move this blog to WordPress for about 6 months now, but every time I sat down and thought about the work involved, I would stare off into space until it was time to go to bed.

Today, I bit the bullet, accepted the default template, and migrated the blog to the new system so that I could add categories and comments and other useless shit. It was supposed to have a famous 5 minute install, but I found that my careless side forced me into doing database edits and other things that a careful user would not be forced to do just to get this thing up and running. If you’re going to be careless, being an admin has its advantages.

Now, Mr. T. is on Hiatus, Beard shaving 101 and 102 are somewhere out there in cyberspace, and I have this plain, yet calming template staring at me.

Saturday
Went to the beach with the #1 GF’s sister and nieces on an oppressively hot day. I realized 2 things: 1.) Short of putting up an invisible child shocking fence, there is no way to keep a child from tracking enough sand on a beach blanket to render it useless, and 2.) Some parents will hand off their children to strangers as long as they have children themselves. It’s like free baby sitting. We were minding an extra kid named “Bella” for about 3 hours.

Sunday
I bought 7 CDs for $50 used online. I was mostly replacing stuff I had already owned. All I really wanted was “Walk Among Us” and a couple of old slayer albums that I used to have on tape, but they were just too much to buy used. The delivery is supposed to be 1-4 weeks, so we’ll see if they ever show up.