As I arrived at the office today, I realized something. Well, just now I realized I’m either borderline British or pretentious because I was thisclose to typing realised, both times. But the main thing I realised is that I have a real aversion to these bad boys:
Knock-knock… Who’s there?… Germs… Germs ach-who!
There’s two ways to get to my office, and I choose the way that has three doors to open vs. two. You would think I’d choose the lesser of two infectious evils, but the path to more doors (must resist “Lord of the Rings” reference here… too late) consists of these precious humdingers:
I can open you with one finger… resisting other off-colour remarks… another Brit/pretentious retort!
If you think about how many disgusting hands that have touched these things… it gives me the gee-willikers (now I’m prohibition era comic strip talking). I’d still rather use one finger to open the second doorknob, than use my entire hand on the first.
Now you know, and knowing is half the fracas (so pretentious it is.)
Last night while playing “Call of Duty 4,” I was leaning over the ventilation, um, vent at my friend’s house. My hair was blowing , but I was so into the game, I didn’t notice it until my friends started singing the Isley Brothers’ “Who’s That Lady” like in that old shampoo commercial.
This is not the shampoo commercial, but it does beg the song’s titular question:
While driving home, I passed the local hookah spot and saw a truck with no headlights on. I wanted to flash my headlights to let them know, but I wondered if that old urban legend was still in effect. You know the one: gangbangers drive around with their lights off, targeting anyone who flashes them. This made me think of that crappy movie “Urban Legend,” and how it opened with Natasha Gregson Wagner singing Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Except I think her legend was about the guy hiding in the backseat.
Here’s not a clip from that movie, but something much better (viva la apes!):
I also heard this song by Matt Nathanson, and it made me wonder if his lyrics at the 2:04 mark are in reference to this post:
2008 was a tough year for everyone. It was especially tough on the “malternative” nation. A few months back, MillerCoors announcing they were canning Zima (no, not taking out of bottles and putting into aluminum… they’re scrapping it altogether).
The plan was to push Sparks in its place, but assholes across America had other ideas (from AP):
MillerCoors agreed to remove caffeine, taurine, guarana and ginseng from Sparks and not produce caffeinated alcohol beverages in the future…in a deal with 13 states and the city of San Francisco, who had contended the drink targeted young drinkers.
The company must also eliminate all references in advertising to caffeinated formulations and not promote Sparks as a mixer for caffeinated drinks. It will remove the plus and minus symbols — which evoke a battery — found on the blue and orange cans for the product. The company also agrees not to use batteries, rockets, lightning bolts, or the terms “powered by” or “ignite” in marketing the new formulation.
The MillerCoors settlement… includes the attorneys general of Arizona, California, Connecticut, Idaho, Illinois, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Mississippi, New Mexico, Ohio and Oklahoma and the city attorney of San Francisco.
“It’s a devil’s brew of a product because it combines caffeine with alcohol,” (Steve Gardner, litigation director for public advocacy group the Center for Science in the Public Interest) said.
If Sparks is the devil’s brew, what are Jaeger Bombs? Rum and Cokes? Hell, what’s a Long Island Iced Latte? (Okay, that last one doesn’t exist, but I’d try it.)
All of this is like a version of “Field of Dreams.” In that movie, “If you build it, they will come.” In this situation, it’s “If you change the formula, they’ll just find something else.” Stupid.
Sparks was more than just a drink. It was truly a BRAND. It was more than ‘just another product.’ When I think of Sparks, I think of a lifestyle. I think of good times. I can honestly not think of another beverage with a brand stronger than SPARKS. After a night of Sparks, I could not fall asleep. My heart felt like it wanted to burst of out my chest. My tongue would be orange the next day. Another memory of the previous night–I would look in the mirror, stick out my tongue and smile…
Save one can. Hide it somewhere–this is now your forbidden fruit. In the next few years, something will go wrong or you will feel down. Treat yourself to the sweet nectar that is Sparks…
Honestly. I would give anything for one more SPARKS vomit.
You have until January 10th to get the old-school Sparks.
After having bee trapped in my home for the last sixty hours (57.5 of which were probably spent on the couch) due to a snow storm, I finally ventured out last night. Grant it, my car got stuck in the driveway, but I still managed to head out to one of my old dives.
While there, my friend, Jay, and I watched football highlights and waxed poetic about the old days in the joint. We talked about whether the Lions would fail us and actually win a game. And we laughed at the amateurs playing in a televised poker tournament (one woman named Ellen had no poker face, but she was kicking aces!)
On the ride back to the neighborhood, a conversation came up about Under Armour. Don’t know how, but it proabably had to do with insulated clothing in the cold. He brought up how they have cold weather lines and hot weather lines. I wondered if I should invest in the hot weather line when I play soccer, yada yada. The part that made me laugh was when Jay described the technology they use.
“Wicket,” I thought he said first.
“Like the Ewok?” I asked.
“Wicked,” he repeated.
“Like the porn company?” I wondered.
We didn’t get to me mishearing Wiccan, and I think we decided on Wicket (I can’t find anything about this on their site or Wiki page), but it reminded me of one of my all time favorite comedy scenes in a movie. It’s from “Roxanne.”
It’s subtle – sure. But I love misheard-based humor. Here’s the lyrics for a song I wrote when I had a band named Monkey Spank Monkey Do that eventually became oddcookie. (This sight was thatclose to having the original band name, but I was afraid of what type of people might visit). We never did much as a band anyway. Sorry I’m not attaching the music. Whatever you make up in your head will probably be better anyway.
Simianuff
That day that you told me You didn’t want to see me
Anymore I just didn’t know
I wanted to ask you why
You didn’t even start to cry
Up and out you gave this reply:
You never simianuff, you never simianuff, you never simianuff
After that I had went on home
My mind so far it had been blown
Away by your rationale
I wanted to ask what you
Meant by saying “simianuff”
But I didn’t want to piss you off
So in turn I became primate
And bought myself a monkey suit
Bananas and “Tree Climbing Monthly”
I hope I’m simian enough, I hope I’m simian enough, I hope I’m simian enough
I started hanging around you
Quite often literally
Being my new simian self
You acted like I was
Insane, was what you called me
I only did what I was told
So you said, “I’ll see you around”
Mumbled something under your breath
I haven’t ever seen you since
You never see me enough, you never see me enough, you never see me enough
You’re never seein’ me enough, you never simian enough, you never simianuff…
Oh fuck…
(P.S. I must also have a fascination with monkeys.)
I dare you to tell me that America is not the Greatest Country on Planet Earth! (I can’t vouch for countries on other planets… there might be some better ones than us.) And how do we make this country even better? By insuring, by guaranteeing, by swearing, by stick a needle in my eye not lying, by promising that we will never have to pay more than 99 cents for a gallon of gas ever again! (And $1.09 for Midgrade and $1.19 for Premium, you douches.)
How can this be done? I don’t fucking care how they get it done! The government simply needs to git’r dun! If it’s by funneling the money that’s funding the war or inventing more money like they did for the fucking lenders, git’r dun! It’s the fastest way to save the country.
How’s that you ask? If gas is cheap, people will drive more.
If people drive more, they’ll go to the store more.
If they go to the store, they’ll buy more because they have more money since the gas is cheap.
If people are buying more things, more companies will need to make more things to sell. Hell, people might even buy full-size SUV’s and trucks again to carry all the shit they’ll be buying, thus rendering an auto bailout unneccessary (because everyone knows American trucks and SUV’s are the best, right?)
Back to the companies making things – they’ll need to hire more people to make things so there will be less unemployed people and more taxes being paid back to the government.
In turn, these returning consumers will need cheap gas and want to buy more shit and see where I’m going?
If this is Socialism – sign me up! So long as I can still buy shit.
Poor Tom Cruise… I think I’m growing a soft spot for the little guy. Of late, he’s making the talk show circuit to promote his new movie, “Valkyrie,” and every time I’ve caught his interview, something inside me dies.
It’s pitiful, really, how much pandering he seems to have to go through to get back into the public’s good graces. Back in the day, when he kept his life private – Mega Movie Star. Since “meeting” Katie Holmes and doing that crazy interview on Oprah – not so much.
(Although I must say this: when I’m 44, if I hook up with a woman 16 years younger than me, I can’t promise I’m not jumping on some couches, too. Hopefully, she’s hotter than Holmes.)
Watch his appearance on Letterman last night and tell me if it doesn’t feel like the sap just wants to be liked?
He’s trying too hard, and it reeks of bad parental advice. Imagine:
Mommy, they’re being mean to me at school. I don’t think nobody likes me.
To which Mommy (a.k.a. Daddy Hubbard or Uncle Miscavige) replies:
They’re jealous, my boy. You can’t let them get to you. Just get back out there and be the best you you can be. If they pick on you – ignore them. Better yet… laugh with them.
A lot of good it did me, Mom. All I have to show for being the best me I can be is an ass-kicking that left me with a head scar and a detached testicle. Thanks for a lifetime of explaning why my nutsack hangs to my knees, and that no, I did not steal your _____!
I can only take so much withholding before I just die.
I’ll be nice to my brother. I’ll even be nice to my sisters, I guess.
Christopher Nolan, all I want is a promise. A contract can come later. All I want for Christmas is to know that there will be a third Batman movie (presumably, “The Dark Knight Returns,” but I hope it’s called something better.)
There’s this guy that calls himself Max Doomsday at an excellent blog called Atomic Gadfly, and he’s got the next movie all figured out:
(These) are the characteristics I’d draw on for my depiction of the Penguin. He’d be a successful professional criminal fronting as a businessman and philanthropist, who’s bought his way into Gotham high society. In a way, he’d be very much like Bruce Wayne – wealthy industrialists moving in the same social circle, and both leading double lives. But each man should recognize that the other is not quite what he seems.
The Penguin could be setting himself up as one of the city’s major benefactors – helping finance the rebuilding of Gotham General Hospital, bringing new jobs to the city, even donating equipment to the police department. But his goal is to create a sense of security for the people of Gotham. After all, they’ve just lived through the attacks on the city by Ra’s al Ghul and the Joker. The Penguin figures that if people feel like things are returning to normal, they’ll be so relieved that they won’t pay attention to what might be going on behind the scenes.
Remember, by the end of The Dark Knight, the Joker and Two-Face had killed off some of Gotham’s top mob figures. So the Penguin sees an opportunity to move in and set himself up as the new kingpin. Publicly, he appears to be working to “bring Gotham back” (as Batman once said), but privately, in the shadows, he’s building his criminal empire.
Max Doomsday even goes on to describe his appearance and his trademarks, and how to make him real. (Hire him to help write the script!) Another highlight is how the Penguin would get his name:
It’s not hard to imagine a scene – maybe a conference of mob leaders – where Oswald has arrived from some formal gala, still in his tux, and somebody makes a crack about how he looks in his “penguin suit.” So Oswald kills the guy, or orders him killed. Hell, maybe he crushes the guy’s windpipe with an umbrella. (I don’t know if your standard umbrella’s actually strong enough to do that. I’m just throwin’ out the idea.) Or maybe the insult occurs in a more public setting, embarrassing Oswald in front of his moll and his high society friends.
Either way, the story gets around. From then on, Oswald’s called “the Penguin.” Never, ever to his face, but sneeringly, behind his back, like “Scarface” or “Bugsy.”
So Chris Nolan – whuttayathink? I’ll put my two-cents in (ha ha… like Two-Face… not really). I say make Tiny Lister’s tattooed prisoner become Killer Croc (he’s the guy who threw the charge out the window). Or have Mr. Reese in accounting become the Riddler. He can go crazy because he wants to tell the world about Bruce Wayne and the Batman, but he feels a great debt is owed… maybe Lucius Fox fires him and that’s what pushes him off the deep end.
Anyharleyquinn, if I can’t get even a hint of a spec of a promise, can I get this instead?
I guess I missed an alternative to Rickrolling – You’ve been Barackroll’d!
Although this is a commercial for a Toyota Carolla, am I crazy for wishing this was an entire movie?
And it was a toss up between the video below or this one to define “laughably bad.” Whereas this clip below is an homage to bad, the CGI dinosaur is simply bad.
The one-time phenomenon of Rickrolling has been played out, so America – please stop. Ignore the fact that I was searching for Strip Tease First Timers on YouTube when I recently stumbled upon it again.
For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of being Rickroll’d, let me turn you over to my good buddy, Wikipedia:
Rickrolling is an Internet memetypically involving the music video for the 1987 Rick Astley song “Never Gonna Give You Up”. The meme is a bait and switch: a person provides a Web link that he or she claims is relevant to the topic at hand, but the link actually takes the user to the Astley video.
And some history:
The first instance of Rickroll occurred in May 2007 on (an Internet forum named 4chan’s) video game board, where a link to the Rick Astley video was claimed to be a mirror of the first trailer for Grand Theft Auto IV (which was unavailable due to heavy traffic)… By May 2008, the practice had spread beyond 4chan and become an Internet phenomenon, eventually amassing some coverage in the mainstream media.
I say it’s high time we find an alternative. Although “4chan” claims it has origins in their similar prank called duckrolling, it actually began with a much earlier prank called goatse… but I’d greatly suggest we don’t go down that tunnel again.
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