TV

InASense, Lost… Atari 2600 Porno?

Posted on by sgottahurt

Fuzzy memories of my 80’s childhood are sprinkled with diverse moments, such as:

  • time spent in front of the living room TV (our only TV) watching classic shows like Manimal and Baby Makes Five
  • time spent in front of the living room TV documenting every game on The Price Is Right
  • time spent in front of the living room TV playing Kaboom! on our Atari 2600
  • time spent in front of the living room TV sleeping

woodtvMan, I loved that living room TV.  It was encased in wood and its screen was somewhere around 30 inches across.  There were no dials.  Instead, it had touch sensor controls.  You could change the channel with your toes!  (Because there was no remote, you see.)

Anybarnstorming, as per usual, the past wasn’t as innocent as remembered.  Was anyone else aware this existed?

custersrevenge

Custer's Lost Standards

Released the same year as the awful E.T. (and the good one), developer Mystique released several adult-themed Atari 2600 games, of which Custer’s Revenge was its most infamous.  Oh, in case you were wondering about the graphics and the game play, have at it:

Let it be known, I’m fully aware everyone looks at their past with rose-colored glasses, but now I feel the need to wear a trench coat, too… because that’s what perverts do.  Or so I remember heard…

BONUS: Mystique’s other two releases were Bachelor Party (pic below) and Beat ‘Em & Eat ‘Em (for the most graphic 4-bit pic, click here).

Their 'Breakout' Hit

Their 'Breakout' Tit - I mean, Hit - I mean, Failure

JusWondering… What Would I Put On A Bucket List?

Posted on by sgottahurt

Who's the angel and who's the devil? I'll let you decide...

Who's the angel and who's the devil? I'll let you decide...

I have never seen Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s The Bucket List (or would it be director Rob Reiner’s?  Whatevs…)  Anymarryinghisgrandaughter (yikes Morgan!), the topic sort of came up the other day about what things would be put on a, uuum, things to do before you die list.  The following is my start:

  • I must go (play? participate in?) curling.  I’ve been (played? participated in?) duckpin bowling before over in Canada, plus I thoroughly enjoy hockey.  Curling is the next logical step, eh?
  • I want to see a platypus in person.  I realized I’ve been on this planet for a decent stretch of time, and I’ve never seen one, even at a zoo.  You know, because I just might run into one at the Electronic Music Festival. 
  • I want to host Saturday Night Live.  I’m not sure what the steps will be to get to do this.  I hope it involves being a successful blogger, because I’ve at least got the blogging part going.  I’m a big fan of sitting on my couch.
  • I want to be on Dancing with the Stars.  I’d like to learn how to dance in the classic style.  For free.  From above-average professionals.  And, oh yeah, to get paid to do so.  Perhaps this is a step in getting to host Saturday Night Live.
  • I will continue this list…
It's like a Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger!

It's like a Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger!

Drunken Recollection… Cogs And Truth Bombs (And A Hooters’ Barstool Trick?)

Posted on by sgottahurt

gearsThis may be surprising, but I can get talkative when I’m drunk.  I know, right! 

What this means is that I theorize and pontificate, and generally make an ass of myself.

But sometimes ideas occur to me that are worth remembering…

For example, one idea I had was how people are a lot like cogs.  Some people are big cogs and others are small cogs.  And they spin at different rates to keep up with each other or because of each other.  Some of them don’t touch but are rotating due to a shared gear.  Okay, there was a whole lot more that went into this, but you get the idea.  I rambled on and on for awhile (remember: druh-unk), and it seems to be happening again.  Moving on…

Another thought that entered my noggin was the notion of truth bombs, and how I wish you could drop them on anyone and everyone to let the other person know where you stand in your thoughts about them.

I was reminded of two movies that used truth bombs: For Love of the Game and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. 

In For Love, Kelly Preston’s character tells Kevin Costner’s character that she wishes people could carry around chalkboards on which they could write what they were thinking.  He asks her what she would write, and she writes on a napkin, “Yes.”  Then they do it.  Well, it goes down something like that, but that example is not really what I’m hoping to convey.

In Eternal Sunshine, at its finale (SPOILER ALERT!), Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet confess all their faults to each other before trying to get back together after wiping their memories.  Yeah, that’s a little closer, but I digress.

I thought this concept was pretty original, but then I uncovered the definition for truth bomb in the Urban Dictionary:

(noun) A fact or piece of knowledge that, when told to a listener, is devastating to the listener’s argument or world view.
“Dude, I dropped a truth bomb on my priest at confession yesterday. I slipped him The DaVinci Code, which disproves his whole religion!”
Tupac dropped truth bombs on the American people, letting them know what it’s like to live in the ‘hood.

So… so much for all that. 

How about a Hooter’s waitress performing the infamous rodeo barstool trick to wipe the memories of this post (you hold up a napkin with the word “Yes” on it).  My cog just spun yours, and you’re welcome:

(SIDE NOTE: Why is everyone at the news station just going along with this?  And in the morning?  And as a reminder about something called “Wings for Kids”?  And did you see the guy in burgundy in the background trying to watch without getting caught watching?  And… just… why?)

Musical Musings… My Top Ten List Of 80’s Remakes

Posted on by sgottahurt

So many comments, so little time. (See below*)

So many comments, so little time. (See below*)

A couple months ago, I showcased my friend/boss Paul’s top five punk covers of 80’s rock bands, but I feel he missed out on some other fine remakes by focusing solely on the punk versions. 

I didn’t and still don’t agree with his number one selection, and although two of his choices made my top ten list, he’s little bit out of touch with the alternative music scene of late.  I’m not claiming to be any wunderkind either, but here are ten of my favorite reinventions/redos/remakes/reboots… whatever it is that Hollywood calls them. 

Let me know in the comments if I missed any.

10) No Doubt – It’s My Life (original by Talk Talk)
Probably the last good song No Doubt made, and will ever make, and it’s not even their own.

9) Seether – Careless Whisper (original by Wham!)
Cool video.  Not sure if it’s official.

8) Alien Ant Farm – Smooth Criminal (original by Michael Jackson, duh)
Paul put this at #5 of 5.  See where I rank it.  I think the leader singer’s weirdness in the video puts me off, but the homages to MJ’s life bring me back.

7) HIM – Wicked Game (original by Chris Isaak)
The original is a haunting song.  HIM is a haunting band.  Win.

6) The Ataris – Boys of Summer (original by Don Henley)
The Ataris once said in an interview I don’t feel like relocating that they wanted to remake this song to point out the creepiness inherent in it.  I never noticed it was creepy until they mentioned it, and that made me love both versions more.

5) Nonpoint – In the Air Tonight (original by Phil Collins)
The gorilla says it all for me.

4) Disturbed – Land of Confusion (original by Genesis)
Likewise, the puppets say it all for me.

3) Orgy – Blue Monday (original by New Order)
This isn’t really my kind of music (neither version).  And the fact that I dig it despite that speaks volumes.

2) Marilyn Manson – Tainted Love (original by Soft Cell)
Who am I kidding?  The video sold me.  Chyler Leigh, Mia Kirshner, and Jaime Pressly will cancel out Manson every time.

1) Limp Bizkit – Faith (original by George Michael)
I make no apologies for this.  I had a weird story happen over the course of listening to this song, and for that, it gets number one.  And now for the comments on the pic at the top of the post:

* COMMENTS
“I don’t know who pulls off the leather better.  I’d bet it’s a tie.”
“Is George Michael smelling his armpit?”
“Why does Fred Durst look like one of my uncles now?  They even wear the same jacket!”
“Why do I get the feeling these two have awkwardly bumped into each other using the restroom.”
“something-something… at least he’s wearing a glove!”

Finis.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Camping Is Not A Good Time For Nightmares

Posted on by sgottahurt

This post could have easily turned into a Drunken Recollection, considering the amount of beers downed over my time camping.  As I explained to my sister, when I was on a cruise, I had documentation of how quickly I could finish a drink: every 15 minutes.  She didn’t believe me, so she checked the clock on her phone and timed me.  I didn’t rush.  I casually chatted and played ladder golf.  11 minutes.  I’m not proud.  Well, maybe a little.

Anylowenbrau, both nights while in my tent, I was awakened with a start.  Was it the booze?  Was it the location?  Who cares knows, but both dealt with unstoppable killers.

The first night’s dream started off okay.  It featured the lovely Julie Bowen.

julie_bowen-edit

I tried. She changed her number.

Sure, she was breaking up with me, but I was keeping calm.  I remember saying, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t still love me.”  And she couldn’t.  So WIN!

Somebody was trying to interview me about my latest book, and we kept trying to move to quieter areas in the nightclub.  Eventually, we were in the alley, where my car was parked.  The trunk was open, and a sewer portal was running through it.

The interviewer spotted a mining cap and pick axe and reached for it.  I warned him not too, and that’s when this guy appeared:

sewerguy

Pote Snitkin cleans up pretty nice.

At least that’s the closest approximation of the horror that chased me.  And he would not stop.  At one point, I was on a roof top, and as he darted at me, he ran into a wall and fell over the side of the building.

Feeling safe, I proceeded to climb down the ladder not far from his crushed face and distorted body.  As I neared the ground, he smiled and started sitting up.  I woke up immediately.

The next night, my cousin’s stepson was telling me about this video showing the ghost of Michael Jackson.  People that know me and/or keep up on this site know how I feel about ghosts.  But I was determined not to let a ten year old see my eyes well up.  Luckily, upon returning home, I discovered this explanation of the “phenomenon”:

But it still didn’t help the fact that the second night, I had a dream I was driving around at night and saw a bunch of people running in the streets.  Cars were hitting people and they were flying everywhere.  I saw the UPS guy that brings PC deliveries to our office get struck, so I stopped my car to check on him.  As I did, a big zombie burly guy in a jump suit appeared behind me and shanked me – another one of my greatest fears.

This dream woke me in the middle of the night.  I had to pee, but I had no flashlight.  I went anyway.  It proves I’m a big boy.  I can handle anything.

Except MJ’s ghost…

Not good timing, at all...

Not good timing, at all...

InASense, Lost… Baby Stripper Shoes?

Posted on by sgottahurt

File this one under, “Are You Fucking Kidding Me?”  This picture pretty much says it all (if you didn’t believe this post’s title):

heelarious

Glass bottomed heels are optional.

So okay, high heels aren’t specifically “stripper shoes,” but they definitely are in poor taste and bad judgment when you put them on an infant.  It’s as bad as putting writing on the back of actual baby shorts and sweatpants.  Moms – little girls aren’t your living dolls, accessories, or Chihuahuas… they’re new people.  New human beings.  Full of life and potential.  I’m not saying it’s a sure path to coke-whoring despair, but there are better options.

See how these moms react:

I could go on and on about how this idea may be the worst thing since:

Only a Dad would buy this shirt

Only a Dad would buy this shirt

But my explanations would sway no one and only come across as redundant to your reactions.

That’s why should I happen to have a daughter of my own, I’m going to raise her to trust no one.  I’ll encourage her to be a little reporter and investigator, and she’ll come home and tell me all the things she’s uncovered.  We’ll create journals and files and collect news clippings.  That way my daughter will be a little more Veronica Mars than Gossip Girl. 

Or super seriously paranoid.

Maybe I shouldn’t be a parent…

Drunken Recollection… Nuclear Urine For Jellyfish?

Posted on by sgottahurt

Known for: being a fair-weather fan, squishy

Known for being: poisonous, squishy, a fair-weather fan

Who’s says you can’t learn new things when you’re drinking?  Time and again, when I make a point to remember the revelations experienced despite the buckets of booze in my system, chances are pretty decent I won’t forget.

For example: last night at trivia, a question we’ve had before reared it’s head.

Q: What type of bird is most commonly used as a state bird?  It’s currently used by seven states.
A: Cardinals.

I don’t know this.  But I remembered it.

Just like I remember finding out that there’s a minor league baseball team in Albuquerque called the Isotopes.  I did not previously know this, but I knew it had to be named after the team in The Simpsons.  I did not remember that in one episode of the show, the home team was supposed to move to Albuquerque, but now I know via Wikipedia, and it makes their name choice that much less arbitrary and forgivable (sorry about the drunken tirade, Isotopes!)

Another thing I was forced to investigate after another drunken tirade was the notion of urinating on yourself after being stung by a jellyfish.  Much debate was given on whether it had to be your pee, someone else’s pee, if it could be a beer piss, etc.

These are some facts things I discovered:

  • Urine can help.
  • Urine doesn’t do anything.
  • Urine can make things worse.

Soooo… hopefully I won’t encounter any jellyfish when I vacation in Mexico later this year.  Now I know that I don’t know anything for sure, but I probably wouldn’t let someone pee on me, or me on myself, just in case.  I just hope I remember that when I’m on the beach – and drunk.

In My Brain While Sleeping… A Trio Of Deliriums

Posted on by sgottahurt

I don’t even know if there’s an interest in the strange things I dream about, but it’s my blog and I can cry write about it if I want to.  I look at it mostly as the catalog I always meant to keep, but um, now do.

Over all the years, and even the months of this site, I know many odd and wondrous things have slipped through the cracks.  I collect here those that made it past the brain fade into oblivion, or the ones I care to share, which honestly are almost all… For example, I exclude those that are merely half ideas or lack narratives, like the dream where I had a motorcycle again (whoo hoo) or owned a gun that was combined with a bullhorn (a loudener, if you will).

For the sake of avoiding specifics on these dreams, I simply made montages.  In one case, it’s a Montag.

DELIRIUM 1

elephantdream

INGREDIENTS: Penn & Teller, two elephants (one pictured), a giant spatula, and buckets of fake blood.  It was one of their acts.  It was initially horrifying, then not so much so.

DELIRIUM 2

ocarinadream2

 

INGREDIENTS: Well, more of an explanation is needed here… there was this baby that had oily (pre-acne) skin, and depending upon how you touched the infant’s back, the child would make musical note sounds like an ocarina.  So as you held the baby in your arms, instead of crying, you heard elevator music, or the stylings of Kenny G.

DELIRIUM 3

speididream

INGREDIENTS: Spencer and Heidi Pratt and the cast of Kappa Mikey.  Man, those two don’t know the meaning of the word overexposure… and yes, they were in this cartoon.

OVERALL INGREDIENTS FOR DELIRIUMS (OR DELERIA, IF YOU PREFER): Velveeta cheese after beer and Pizza Rolls before beer.

Hibbidy-Wah?! Teenage Mutant Ninja Heartthrob?

Posted on by sgottahurt

I have been saving this video for awhile, waiting for the right time to post it.

Essentially, I having been saving myself for this lady.  This lady… of my heart.

(video after the jump… because it kept playing “Where’s Your Head At?” by Basement Jaxx automatically) Read More

InASense, Lost… Super Inappropriate Squirt Guns And Bonus Grossness

Posted on by sgottahurt

In the spirit of all things summer-y, I thought I’d whip out this classic gem of a toy (maybe I shouldn’t have said whip out).  Despite it pissing your parents off for creating quite a mess, the Oozinator may be the worst thing aimed at kids ever (maybe I shouldn’t have said aimed at kids).  Even the acting is highly inappropriate.  Things to take note of in this commercial (and quickly forget): the way the gun has to be charged and the reaction shots to getting blasted.

Okay, so maybe the Oozinator’s not the absolute worst in product design:

batmansquirtgunsmallqt1

BONUS GROSSNESS!

There are two words that I cannot hear without instantly being grossed out: cyst and polyp.  Add this video to the mix.  Believe you me, I’d rather watch 100 clips of girls and guys and single cups and broken bottles and egg chutes (well maybe not), than the entirety of the following footage ever again.