Remember those pirates that attacked a cruise ship a few months ago?

This morning, US warships gave ‘em a little “how ya’ doin’?”

The early morning gunbattle ensued after sailors spotted 30-foot fishing boat towing smaller skiffs and prepared for a routine boarding, said Lt. Cmdr. Charlie Brown, spokesman for the U.S. Navy’s 5th Fleet.

The Navy said the incident involving the USS Cape St. George and USS Gonzalez occurred at about 5:40 a.m. local time, approximately 25 nautical miles off the Somali coast in international waters.

After Supafine! and her boys came over this morning to pick up a bookshelf I had no room for, I drove down to Salvo’s in Timonium for a replacement headlight-bulb for my Celica.

They used to have this big directory the size of a phonebook that you could look up your car’s make and model and year and find out what type of bulb you needed. They replaced that sometime since the last time I bought a bulb myself (December ‘04) and it is now a computerized directory — much easier to use, but I think it has flaws. I should have recognized that the bulb it told me to buy was the wrong type, but after over a year, who can remember, right?

The bulb I got had an “L” shaped assembly at the end of it. When I got into the Indy (early), I spent fifteen minutes disassembling the huge cumbersome piece of plastic that covers the engine under the hood (most of that time spent removing the retaining clips). Cute comment from passerby: “Looks like changing that headlight’s an all-day job!” (How little did I know). I unplugged the dead bulb from the electrical, then pulled the rubber stopper, and removed … a bulb without an “L” shaped assembly.

So what the hell did I buy?

I assumed I misread the item number of Salvo’s computer, and walked over to talk to Ken at Brooks-Huff Goodyear. He checked the computer and the verdict was the same as at Salvo’s — according to both, a 2000 Toyota Celica gets a lightbulb with an “L” shaped assembly. (Which, no, it doesn’t).

But the lightbulb I pulled out of my car had no “L” shaped assembly. It was just a regular lightbulb with a plug. It attaches into a socket-extender-retainer thing. It looks nothing like the asembly I bought, or the bulb Ken’s computer told him it should’ve been. I showed him the bulb I took from my car, but he was unable to find a match.

I hurried down to the Toyota dealership because I really really really wanted to have a working headlight. I explained the situation to the tech at the parts counter, and he pulled up the listing, said they had them in stock, then offered to grab it before I paid for it so we could make sure it was the same bulb. He returned with a box and as soon as I saw it I knew it was exactly what I needed. Good, right? Wrong. He wanted sixty-bucks for it. Woah. Nevermind. I told him I only had $15 on me (I’m such a liar, I had $13) and no credit-cards and I’d come back for it Monday. (As if).

I resolved to head back to Salvo’s later after work, but driving back from a delivery, I swung by Precision Tune. I was able to speak with a mechanic, who confirmed once again that the part listed in the computer was the same one with the “L” shaped assembly that will absolutely under no conditions fit in a 2000 Toyota Celica. He recognized the bulb that actually fit in the Celica …

GREAT!

… but had none in stock.

FUCK!

He suggested I run over to check Jiffy Lube. I figured, “What the hey?” and went over and inquired of the girl behind the counter if they carried the bulb. I explained to her that I just wanted to buy the bulb. I didn’t want someone to install it for me. I just wanted the bulb.

After talking with a tech, she told me to pull around back. “I just want to buy the bulb.”

“They’re kept around back.”

Also around back? That’s where you pull to put your car in queue to be serviced. Get where this is going?

So I pulled around back, and sure enough, some little tech comes running over asking what services I want. I explain that I want a bulb, and show him the burned out one that I’ve removed from my car. No, I explain to him, I don’t want to wait in the lobby while he changes it out. I just want the bulb.

He runs back into the shop, and emerges five minutes later. He hands me the box, I had him the cash. “Don’t know why you pulled around back,” he says. “This’d be easier if you’d been in the lobby.”

I resist urge to go back into the lobby and strangle the girl behind the counter.

(This post contains spoilers)

I woke up this morning to a commercial touting “The History of Violence” as one of the year’s best films, and on one-hundred and fifty top-ten lists, and all I could say to that was, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

This movie blew monkey chips!

This is what the movie has going for it: gratuitous violence and (partial) full-frontal nudity of the very smokalicious Maria Bello.

This is what the movie doesn’t have going for it: it sucks.

Tom Stall is a hard-working family man who runs a diner in the small town in the middle of Bumfuckingworth, Nowhere. Two serial killers need cash and stop in the diner for some quick bucks, and Tom’s all willing to go along with them, until one of ‘em tries to rape his waitress, at which point he goes all gung-ho, and blows ‘em both away with the lead-bad’s .45 Automatic.

Well, turns out some mafioso types out east see him on the news, recognize him as a Made Man gone astray, and come around looking for him. They make some threats, and in the end, oh! More violence. He admits to his wife that he is an ex-Mafioso named “Joey” who took off and changed his life without the benefit of a Federal protection program, she’s unhappy and angry, and he returns to his stomping grounds of Philly to settle the score with his older brother (read: he kills his bro’s bodyguards, then kills his bro).

In one scene, the gangsters are driving to the family home, and Tom thinks they’re going to kill his wife and kids, so he calls ahead and Maria Bello gets the shotgun and runs around the house with it. Then Tom gets home, hugs his wife, and their son is calmly eating breakfast in the kitchen asking, “Uh, what’s going on?” This is the point where should’ve Tom backhanded Maria and screams: “Why didn’t you tell him to run for his life?!”

I think there’s supposed to be some sort of moral about “when daddy uses violence, others will too” because his son beats the shit out of two bullies in high school then doesn’t understand why his pops ain’t cool with it. If that’s supposed to be what the movie is “about”, it fails.

Miserably.