Transitional teacher

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11602457/

How not to make a delicious morning beverage

I usually stop at the local Jamba Juice on my way to work for a refreshing, energizing and nutritous smoothie. A few weeks ago, there was turnover in the morning crew. This has caused a change in the adherence to the stores posted hours, specifically making the opening time of 6:30 more or less overly ambitious or seen as an estimate, a loose goal, a nice to have, a rough target, a lofty aspiration, a pipe dream and/or a too grand objective.

Nothing irritates me more than driving up and seeing the store completely lifeless at twenty minutes after seven when the store's hours of operation sign specifically says 6:30 AM to 10 PM. (Well, actually, lots of things irritate me more; like that guy who races ahead and cuts me off so he's first in line at a stop light. Is this really a goal for people? To be first at the stop light? I sort of imagine him pumping his fist in victorious rapture as he screeches to a dramatic stop. Whatever, dude.)

So, since I don't really like unreliable things, I decided that I would make my own vitamin packed breakfast shake; and I would make it better. In preparation for this monumental undertaking, I did a little shopping. First on the list: Fresh fruit. I bought several containers of strawberries, raspberries, huckleberries, blueberries and dingleberries. Ok, no dingleberries, cuz that's kind of gross. Next was soy milk. Then honey. I didn't need bananas

(Luckily, I already had an overabundance of frozen bananas due to a habbit of throwing any of the overripe ones I have had in the past into the freezer. My thought was that one day I would learn to bake banana bread. In my freezer at home I have a half bushel of rock hard bananas, a half empty bag of shoe string fries (Orita!), a box of thin mints, a plastic container of white chocolate covered peanut butter thingies and a half gallon of very vanilla ice cream. Yes, I live the dream).

If you have ever been to a jamba juice you know about the 'boosts' they offer. Boosts, for the uneducated, are supplements that the store offers for a price. Things like soy protein, vitamins, minerals, naturally caffeinated berries, that sort of thing. Well, if I'm going to make my own smoothie, only better, I also will have boosts. But I'll call them goose. No, that is lame. I'll call them ... BOOSTS! Yeah, that's original.

Now, where do I find these BOOSTS? Why in the nutritional aisle at the local circle K of course! - If you don't know what a circle K is you must immediately go out and rent "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure." - On second thought, I'll try the same aisle at my grocer. So I'm in there reading labels on giant tubs of 'Amino Aid' and 'Muscle Mass Master' and 'Protein Pro' and I'm thinking, wow, if only I had mastered alliteration earlier in my life I'd have made a mint in marketing (mint in marketing! wow! see what I mean!) I'm also thinking that I have no idea what this crap does. So I settle on Wheat Germ, Soy Protein and Brewers Yeast; yes, Brewers Yeast. You might be asking yourself, what good does brewers yeast yeald (sic)? (yeast yielding yellow yellers! That, my friend, is talent) Well, tell your self to read the label of a brewers yeast bottle and see the twenty thousand or so listed vitamins and minerals this junk is supposed to bring to the table.

Ok, I'm prepared. I come home, toss all the fruit into the freezer, so the bananas don't feel discriminated against, in preparation for my morning creating. Easy enough.

Here is what I used to get every morning at jamba:

Protein Berry Pizzaz! Which consisted of:

a few slices of frozen bananas
a couple of frozen strawberries
8 ounces of soy milk
Boosted with some protein and multivitamin. (not sure of the quantities, but it looked like a teaspoon of each)
Resulting in smooth tasty goodness.

Since I gotta make it better, here is what I put in my creation:

4 frozen strawberries
1 frozen banana (with peel. I figure if that kpax guy can eat it banana peels, so can I)
2 frozen raspberries
2 frozen huckleberries
8 frozen blueberries (man, this is going to be good!)
8 ounces, or so, of soy milk
Boosted with wheat germ, honey (raw and unfiltered), soy protein and brewers yeast. (As a measure, I read the nutritional label and used whatever amount came out to a serving, except for the honey, which I just used the 'well-that-looks-like-enough-rule.' Basically two tablespoons of wheat germ, a third cup of soy protein and two tablespoons of brewers yeast)

Resulting in a toxic, undrinkable coalescence. An egregious elixir of unknown odors, questionable appearance and eye raising viscidity. A brew so foul that the taste, I fear, will haunt me till the end of days. I like to call it "Death Yiest to No One!!"

I think they were done with them

Last wishes are great and all, but how many wishes actually come true? (Link Summary: Some creepy people are stealing body parts from dead folks who don't want their parts taken and selling them. Ah, capitalism)

Really, do you think, if you were dead, you'd care if your, say, right eye were being extricated from your cold dead skull and listed on ebay? Do you think you'll still need that eye as your body slowly rots away in an uncaring, yet possibly, elegant, box? I know there are probably religious concerns for some people. Or maybe a great many, I really don't know. I've heard people talk about how they have to have their bodies intact after they die so they can be properly ressurrected when that time comes. Though I'm a little unsure that a deity that can bring your 100 year old dessicated carcass back to rosy cheeked vitality is going to be stymied by a missing organ or two. And what about people that lose limbs before they croak? Are they going to be spending eternity in heaven sans an arm or leg? Maybe they'll get an extra wing as compensation.

Transitional Athlete

Personally, I think growing into a man's body is a bit of an advantage.

Know your weaknesses

I've recently discovered a somewhat benign problem. Well, I guess I've known about it for quite awhile but now it appears to have worsened, for lack of a better term. I have an almost physical aversion to getting my hands dirty. Now, since I've got enough reasons for people to call me crazy (mostly with a look of amusement on their faces) I don't really like the idea of adding a legitimate reason (looks, instead of amusement, of concern or pity; maybe even horror).

The ironic thing is, I really enjoy working with my hands. In fact, I sort of harbor this dream of one day owning a repair shop. One that specializes in Toyota's, because, really, who works in their dreams?

Here is a story:

I recently purchased a house. During the inspection, I noticed a dead pigeon in a window well. 'Think you could have them remove that thing,' I remember asking the inspector guy ( I think his name was Gidget or Gadzip or something). To which he replied 'Yeah, no problem.' Problem solved, right? This relatively trivial request was the least of the requested services leading up to contract and what not. Any how, a couple of weeks later (or more, the timing really isn't important), I'm moving in and getting everything situated. In the midst of this situating I find myself downstairs doing what ever it is that I was doing, when I noticed a grey little shape outside the window inside the window well. Being the curious person that I am I say to myself, 'Wonder what that is,' and walk over to investigate. Now, being as how I had immediately put the question of pigeon removal out of my mind after having the initial conversation with Inspector Dueteronomy, I was quite surprised to see a dead pigeon in my window well. I even thought for a second, 'Wow, another one? The pigeons around here sure are prone to dying and falling in my window well,' before deciding that, no, its probably the same bloody, - figuratively speaking - stinking - not figuratively speaking - pigeon I saw during the inspection. Not being prone to emotional outbursts, I calmly considered my options:

a) Leave the stupid dead thing where it is hoping another critter would come along and dispose of it for me.

b) Remove the thing myself.

c) Have someone remove it for me.

Here is my reasoning:

a) Seemed like a sound decision until I considered the chances of having a larger and potentially pissed off carrion eater stuck in my window well. That or the carcass would rot into a grey pile of sludge and worms.

b) Yeah right, I ain't touching that thing.

c) Winner!

So, after deciding on a course of action I immedieately knew whom to call in. . . . Let me re-enact my phone call.

'Hello? Yes, is this animal control?' (This is me. In order to keep this as simple as possible, you'll only get my side of the conversation) 'Hi. Yes, I hope you can help me. There is a pigeon in my window well and I'd like you to come and remove it. What? No, its not hurt. I'm pretty sure its been dead for quite some time now. Excuse me? What do you mean you don't do that sort of thing? It is an animal. You're animal control. Come and, you know, control ... No? Ok, who do I call? You don't? Ok. Well, er, thanks.'

Who knew that animal control doesn't control all animals regardless of condition? I mean, its harder to control the live ones, right? Ok. So options 'a' and 'c' are no go. Now I have to prepare myself for option 'b.'

Here is how it went down:

I go downstairs. I approach the window with the deceased flying vermin from the lowest, dankest, darkest, seamiest, hellish, damdest bowells of Hades (poor lil guy). I open the window and look at ( the window is situated in such a fashion that the bottom of the window well is about even with my waist) the carcass. Its about the size of an adult pigeon, only its less, you know, lively. Its been dead a good deal of time, but not enough to attract a battalion of flies. I can only see one or two of the little bastards (The one thing I hate more than pigeons is flies. Actually, there are two things I hate worse than pigeons. The most hated little bastards are mosquitoes). Ok, so, this shouldn't be an issue. Then why is my breathing becoming more labored? Am I sweating? I'm in the basement, it aint hot down here! Ok, time to rethink. I step back and close the window. I go up stairs out to the garage and grab my yard gloves (these are black and rather stylish, for yard gloves). I put them on. I then go back into the house and make my way to the kitchen. There I procure a plastic garbage bag. This slows down my runaway anxiety a bit. To further reduce my heart rate, I also grab a couple of paper towels; one for each hand. This helps immensely. Ok, here is my plan: (if you like, you can hum the tune to "I knew an old woman") I'll use my gloves to grab the paper towels, I'll use the paper towels to grab the plastic bag, I'll use the plastic bag to grab the dead avian, hopefully the dead avian will keep its motley collection of flies in whatever stage of life their in... Perhaps I'll die. So, now that I'm all armored up, I make my way down stairs and to the dreaded winow. I look out the window. Yep, dead bird not walkin'. I look at the window again. I then look at my hands sheathed in layers of plastic, paper and cloth. Hmm. Back at the window. Back at my hands. Ok, layers are good for keeping warm and protecting against filth, not so good for unlatching windows. So, I quickly strip the protection from my limbs, open the window and as rapidly as possible, reassemble my 'suit of iron' aka yard gloves, paper towels and plastic bag. Ok. Now I'm ready. I step closer to the window and gingerly reach for the dead flying vermin. My breathing becomes labored. I feel like I'm becoming enclosed in a tight and uncomfortable place. Sort of like what it must be like at an NRA meeting in a Pearl Street boutique. Anyhow. There is no stopping now. I will myself to snatch up the prize. I urgently wrap it up in plastic and paper. I seal up the bag and sprint up the stairs. I snatch open the garage door and stumble to the trash bin. I flip open the lid and slam home the payload like a Michael Jordan 'slamma jamma' - before he retired the second time. You know, when he didn't look like an offensive lineman - and then I stand trembling, bent over at the waist, hands on my knees thinking 'this is ridiculous. I think I may hyperventilate.'

And before you start in on the sissy comments, I'll have you know that I'm a stud. ... So there.

Apple

I thought this was clever.... Apple Poem for Hackers.

Voluntary Severance!

My company announced a voluntary severance plan for my particular function. I can sign up for it and then choose to back out as long as its within a specified window of time. The idea is to create synergies after a multi-billion dollar merger. Its not a bad package. 3 months salary and all unvested options vest.

Post coital arrest

Have you seen this? Wow! Apparantly, deep in the 'state of red' its perfectly acceptable for an officer of the law to arrest his or her potential prostitution suspect after REALLY making sure that they are, you know, serious and ernest about prostituting.

Somewhere, someone more clever than I, is coming up with a joke that climaxes with TJ Hooker.

Oceans Thirteen?

For the love of ... Listen, I enjoyed Ocean's Eleven as much as the next guy. It was clever, amusing, witty, etc. Ocean's Twelve was crap. Crap, I say! Now I get wind of an impending sequel. For. The. Love. Can't we please move on (dot org)? I am going to blow a bloody gasket. Well, I would if it weren't for near apathy.

Thirteen relatively minor and/or non-fatal annoyances:

1) Oceans Thirteen. Ok, the phrase 'Anything with Don Cheadle is worth seeing' is now officially unavailable for use.
2) I know I shouldn't care, but don't ruin my Fight Club! I bet Palahniuk is having a cow.
3) I saw one of these the other day and winced. Another farce. What the heck are those people from Daimler Chrystler thinking?









4) Jukebox hero. Bloody chorus ruined a potentially decent song.
5) Colorado Buffalo Basketball. Every time they look like they have turned the corner, they lose a game they shouldn't.
6) Listen, I know its been a dozen years, but no way should Samuel Jackson not have won an Oscar for his performance as Jules Winnfield. Course, the brotha's are always getting jacked by the Academy.

Quick aside - There is this commercial where this guy is running around in a suit and tie chasing Nissan cars so he can get a 'contact' rush when he touches them. Wouldn't it be funny if there was a commercial where a guy (or gal) runs around grabbing peoples butts? No? Oh. Ok.

7) No more new episodes of Arrested Development nor That 70s Show. Both were brilliant to the end.
8) I spent part of my day on Sunday throwing snowballs at the pigeons on my flue. That was actually entertaining. The fact that the pigeons were there was annoying. What's more, I know they'll be there again soon. The bastiches.
9) I shave, yet the hair never stops coming back.
10) With all the technological advances we've made in the past fifty years, is it still necessary to litter the roadways with gravel when it snows?
11) Additionally, in case you were wondering, when yer driving, a mild sprinkling of precipitation on a non-freezing day does not immediately require a drastic reduction in speed. You know, FYI and all.
12) When I was a kid it seem perfectly reasonable to put the empty milk carton back into the fridge. After all, that was where it was last located. Now, however, that is merely another annoyance.
13) What they serve at the Bluebonnet restaurant is Mexican food only if, you know, you're from Minnesota.

Peer pressure

Newspapers, blogs, editorials, etc, are all filled with Olympic happenings, Vice Presidential shootings, Religious fury and/or Iraqi insurgences. In the face of such polarizing issues, I feel that a hard line topic touting the virtues of the Electric Company over Sesame Street only throws fuel on the 'controversy' fire. Today I was tempted to write on my feelings on lighter fare, you know, a topic with a social impact of a proverbial pillow fight. Only, I feel that would be cheating my readers (the four of you) of my keen social commentary. So, instead, I'll be giving my opinion of the following red hot social conundrum: What Hollywood actor/tress has the most disturbing physical feature.

So, the rule is it has to be an actor/tress that doesn't get parts due to an unnatural look. The contestants are:

Lets see.. There is Joaquin Phoenix and his 'cleft'... Owen Wilson's 'snozz'.... Julia Robert's unnaturally large mouth..... Harrison Ford's scar.... Reese Witherspoon and her alien head... Yeah, I believe those would be my finalists...

And the deformed Oscar goes to..... Alien Headed Reese Witherspoon!! Whoo hooo!!

Sesame Street vs. Electric Company

Ah, Sesame Street. Sunny days and monstrous puppets; what can beat that? How about Spiderman and Morgan Freeman? Few people realize that Morgan Freeman was once one of the actors on Electric Company. Or that Spiderman made a regular appearance on that kid centric show. Personally, as a kid I preferred the Electric Company to Sesame Street. Not that I didn't like Sesame Street, I just liked the Electric Company a little more. Mostly because of Morgan Freeman and, naturally, Spiderman. But there was also Letter-man (Narrated by Joan Rivers; voiced by Gene Wilder) the hero with a different letter on his shirt. He could turn a terrifyingly monstrous snake into a delicious cake, just by tearing off the 'C' on his sweater and covering the 'SN'. Man, wouldn't that be a handy trick?

"Why, Halle, I've just turned that pesky little blouse you were wearing into a less visually restrictive mouse. No, no need to thank me."

Of course, 'Swordfish' managed to do that as well and without the rodent.

Of course, Sesame Street continues strong to this day, while Electric Company ended its run nearly twenty years ago. Which shouldn't be an indictment. I look at it as a simple fact that the talent involved with putting together the episodes went on to bigger pay checks and no suitable replacements became available. What is more indicative of the show is that I haven't seen an episode since the seventies, yet I have positive indelible memories.

Top Five Old School after school education

1) Electric Company - My man Morgan!
2) Sesame Street - Realistically, an eight foot bird would be worse on children than a rabbid velociraptor.
3) Captain Kangaroo - First time I saw this, I was dissappointed that the main character wasn't a marsupial at all.
4) Mr. Rogers Neighborhood - I'm still a little fuzzy as to why this guy had a house he only stayed in for an hour a day. The shoe thing was a curiosity as well.
5) Rhomper Room - She bloody never saw me in her stupid mirror.

My man Cusack!

John Cusack is one of my favorite actors.

Top Five John Cusack Movies

1) Grosse Pointe Blank
2) Identity
3) Say Anything
4) High Fidelity
5) The Grifters

Pulp Fiction: Best movie of the past two decades?

Its been about 12 years since our dawg Q. Torrentino brought us a twisted intertwining tale of two philosophical hitmen, a proud end of his rope boxer, a sweet couple of psychotic two bit criminals and a crime boss with a hole in his head, among others. Life is full of little disappointments - like the 'new' Beetle; unless yer a woman, or gay. My dad had one of the original love Bugs in the seventies and I thought that was the coolest thing. He also had a motorcycle which I, again, thought was cool, up until I burned my bloody leg on the stupid exhaust pipe. And I digress. - but this movie wasn't one of them. Pulp Fiction is a landmark film. A nearly exhausting experience that was consumed eagerly, breathlessly; each moment an anticipation that surpassed expectation. I recall taking two different dates to the film within two days and seeing it three times in the span of a week. Only the Matrix came close to Pulp Fiction in engendering an almost childish glee during its mesmerizing exposure. Its arguable that the reception received by Pulp Fiction paved the way for similar films to be made. Like Sin City, Fight Club, and, you know, others.... (Hey, I'm a blogger not a bloody film student).

I'm sure there were films that fell way short of the grandeur of Pulp Fiction back in the mid nineties, however, I can't recall them. Its easier to reference the crap that is coming out lately. I.e. 'When a Stranger Calls', 'Big Mama's House 2' - Big Mama two?!?! Was there really a clamoring for Big Mama 2??!? - , 'The Pink Panther', blah blah, crap crap, etcetera, etcetera, and so forth, and so on.

Its movies like Pulp Fiction, Unforgiven, Shawshank (unfortunate title) and the Matrix that I pine for today. Not 'Final Destination 14' or remakes of classic films that really can't be improved upon.... Well, King Kong was groovy, but its a definite exception.

Top Five Stupid Films that should be the impetus for administering severe beatings to the low life scum responsible for conning me out of my precious funds.

1) The Thirteenth Floor - The only movie that actually caused me to turn to my date and exclaim 'What the F*&#@?!' and walk out. This film was so bad that it actually caused me stomach pains. Not recommended for the elderly nor postal workers.
2) Little Nicky - Ok, so I knew this film would be bad going in, but OH LORD! I guess I'm the one up for severe beatings in this case... Though, sitting thru this piece of work is pushing the cruel and unusual in the punishment category.
3) Valiant - Having kids, I have incorporated kiddy films into my film diet. This travesty should be shot, er, you know, if it weren't, ah, already a lifeless, um, concept kind of thing. And no, SC, it isn't due to my unnatural hatred for pigeons.
4) The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - Rubbish! What a bloody travesty! No wonder Alan Moore hates Hollywood. This film is so bad that I am half way convinced that Sean Connery was actually body snatched. Or perhaps someone was holding his Scotch and Penthouse magazines hostage.
5) Batman and Robin - I remember the Guvnah saying he was hired to take the Batman franchise over the top. I'm not sure if he meant over the top of the toilet bowl, but this stinker was less entertaining then watching a camode flushing. Thank the Bale for Beginning again.

Sports Impact

Prior to this year's Super Bowl, Hines Ward would be hard to spot for anyone outside of the Pittsburgh, PA. area. Since then, he's become, among other things, an instant hero in a country he hasn't visited since childhood.

Then there is the impact of sports in the business world. Some companies, inspired by the success of the NFL - the National Football League - have tried to emulate some of the practices seen in the United States most profitable sports league. Take a look.

Yayyyy, Grammy's!

Generally, I think award shows are, you know, lame. I think its cool to give out awards and all, I mean, I'm no commie, however, in general, award shows are a waste of time. Not that I'm not interested in knowing the outcome, its just that I'm all about the summary, you know? Who won what, what did Kanye say, that sort of thing in five minutes or less. The one thing I do like about these events are the very fashionable dresses the hotties usually wear. Like this get up that Terri Hatcher is sporting. Like it. Like it a lot! Course, I might not like it as much if, say, Kathy Bates were photographed in it.

Girl Power

This one is for you, GKL....

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/news/story?id=2320537

Groundhog Day

Today is, maybe, the second most underrated day of the year. This is the day when we all hold our breaths in anticipation of a burrowing mammal's search for the location of the sun in order to predict the weather. In other words, the little rodent predicts the weather. I'm really not sure how the animal does it, but I'm inclined to give it as much credit as I do to the weird lady that mostly guesses my daily local forecast. Punxsutawney spied his shadow for what seems like, I don't know, the thirty-fifth year in a row. Which means, of course, 6 more weeks of winter. Which, for most of the country must not seem that bad given the relatively mild conditions, sans the high country. Superstition aside, the reason to celebrate this day is the brilliant comedy, Groundhog Day. Bill Murray perfectly masters the insufferable, condenscending, smarmy, obnoxious charm in a way that leaves me exhausted and envious. I'm of the opinion that more should be done to mark this day as more than a tribute to a pampered and surly woodchuck. It should be a celebration of a preeminent performance of objectionable behavior.

MonstrousJoe suggests that we honor Groundhog Day by referring to ourselves in the third person, you know, for those of us who don't do it on a regular basis. It'll be the one time in a year where we can all feel absurdly self-important. MonstrousJoe feels that this is the only true way to raise this day from the valley of apathy to the peak of, er, passion, alliterally speaking. So, join MonstrousJoe in celebrating the rebirth of a holiday!!

Top Five Bill Murray performances in a motion picture

1) Raleigh St. Clair - The Royal Tenenbaums
2) Herman Blume - Rushmore
3) Steve Zissou - The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
4) Phil Connors - Groundhog Day
5) Carl Spackler - Caddyshack

Worlds first super heroine?

Listen, either this woman is powered by a radioactive spider bite, or the Israeli army should, you know, get a gym membership.

Memories of monsters

Growing up with three brothers, one older, wasn't always easy. Coming to any kind of consensus on, well, really, anything, was problematic to say the least. Now there did exist a kind of pecking order; that being my older brother pecked on me, I pecked on the third oldest, he in turn pecked on the youngest, who, not having any other alternative, continuously harassed the dog, or cat, or whatever smaller being he could corner (I think one of the reasons I enjoy Malcom in the Middle so much is due to similarities of the brothers relationships to my own). Of course, as expected, there often occurred a mutiny. On these many occasions, bloody mayhem and chaos was always the result. If you don't have siblings, let me paint a picture of what was often times the result of trying to over throw the status quo:

Picture yourself flat on your back, with your arms pinned under the knees of a large mass that is simultaneously perched on your chest and precariously dangling a gobblet of spittle over your thrashing head.

That, mi amigos, is a small defeat from a minor battle. Larger rebellions required squashing of a more devious and vicious quality, such as Indian burns, Nuclear wedgies, etc.

The two things that immediately signaled a truce were Monster Matinee and Kung Fu Theater, the high point of the televised glory days of pre-cable entertainment.

Monster Matinee featured such gems as Gamera, Destroy all Monsters, Son of Godzilla, Mecha-Godzilla and Mothra.

Kung Fu Theater introduced us to the glory of poorly dubbed Hong Kong productions like The Kid with the Golden Hand, Kung Fu vs. Karate, Drunken Master and The Five Deadly Venoms.

The start of any of these Saturday afternoon programs produced such a profound silence that many concerned adults would appear to make sure no child had inadvertently been killed, or, worse, knocked over a lamp.

I think I saw every monster film made in the 70s that featured a man in a rubber suit stomping around a miniaturized version of an Asian city as well as every hi-flying wire aided kung fu kick. Thus began the infatuation with monsters and martial arts.

Of course, once the truce was over, the mayhem resumed, only now it was enhanced as each of us assumed the guise of our favorite mighty hero (monsters after the Matinee or colorful martial arts character after Theater) to increase are damage potential.

Top Five Mega Monsters

1) Godzilla .. I think the worst Godzilla was the Americanized one that came out in '98, but he still rocked.
2) King Caesar. ... He looked like a cross between a lion and a Lopso Apso, only way bigger.
3) Jet Jaguar. .. ... Man sized robot who could increase his size to that of whatever needed its butt kicked.
4) Giant Praying Mantis .... I've seen two of these things (the miniaturized version, not the giant whale eating version) in the wild (aka, the front yard) and I got the distinct impression that each time the little bastard(s) was looking at me and thinking, "Yeah, I think I can take him."
5) Gigan ... This guy carried around his own personal table saw in his torso and had giant metal hooks instead of hands. Which really explains why he was a bad guy: not huggable.

Top Five Martial Arts Characters

1) Bruce Lee . .. Really, any character Bruce played was just referred to as Bruce Lee. In fact, if they had dubbed his character in each of his movies saying 'I'm Bruce Lee', I don't believe anyone would have batted an eye.
2) Golden Arm ... This guy was nearly impervious to all weapons.
3) Toad ... Also nearly impervious and, appropriately, played by the same actor that played Golden Arm
4) Any one who'd mastered the Preying Mantis technique . . . . Cuz, you know, once you emulate this, you can't help but think, "Yeah, I think I can take him."
5) Drunken Master ... This guy was so relaxed all the time that as you were fighting him, he'd be beating you whilst half asleep.