I first discovered this kid’s YouTube channel, Pruane2Forever, via the always hilarious site, FilmDrunk.
Often attacked, but never backing down, Pruane2Forever gives his insights and opinions on pop culture and the world around us. Occasionally, he even makes a film himself.
On this Fourth of July, as I sit in my living room listening to what I hope is fireworks, but actually believe is gunfire (because it happened once, and it sounded like a gun… yay Detroit!), let’s celebrate the awesomeness this country. It’s a place where a kid from Canada can astutely comment on one of the most famous rappers in the world, and ultimately get to meet him. The first half of the vid is their shout-out, and the second half is his original post.
I’ve posted about my love of 5 Second Films before, but for those uninitiated, here’s a sample:
Well, on another favorite site of mine, Everything is Terrible, they’ve been perfecting their craft of the 3-Minute Movie edit, even though two of the most recent releases have fallen under 180 seconds.
From the Stephen Baldwin/Tom Berenger collaboration, Cutaway:
Brain-‘sploding intensity from Scanner Cop II:
And although this is not from EIT, it sums up Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen perfectly. (NOTE: It feels long even though it’s one minute long.)
Tact is not in my boss Paul’s vocabulary. It wasn’t even when while we are friends. In memory of Michael Jackson, here’s some of his favorite depictions… from two shows.
I recently found this video of a weird local commercial for, what else, a furniture store:
Consider my mind blown! This couldn’t be real, could it? I mean, was it serious? Did it have lofty goals of promoting racial harmony and couches? Courtesy of my new skill set (BOOM! Research!), I uncovered this…
Ugh. I feel defeated. I wanted that commercial to be legit. I feel duped like most people did with The Blair Witch Project.
(SIDENOTE 1: When I was in high school, parents had to write something great about their kids for the yearbook. My mom didn’t know what to write, so I wrote my own. Some girls in my class had told me they thought what my family wrote was really sweet. For some stupid reason, I told them that I wrote it. The look on their faces must have been like mine when I watched that second video.)
(SIDENOTE 2: When I saw The Blair Witch Project, I took a friend that did not know it was fake. He was relatively unaffected by the flick, but the dude in front of me was freaking out when they found that eye, or tongue, whatever it was, wrapped in gauze. Totally worth it for that.)
So back to the current disappointment. At least this is real, right?
I remember being a lad of about 29 years old, and I finally gathered the nerve to ask my mom, “Where do babies come from?”
I often think back to my childhood, and remember Saturday mornings as a kid. Rolling out of bed from underneath my taped together Garbage Pail Kid posters. Grabbing a box of Cocoa Krispies and the biggest bowl I could handle. Turning on the TV without a remote control because we had none. Zoning out to crappy yet awesome cartoons and the commercials that sold me on Transformers and Star Wars and Centurions and M.A.S.K. with little to no effort. Then there would come along one of these ads:
Granted, it’s not one of the most heartwarming, but very often, they’d catch me by surprise and effect me on a personal level. Gee, maybe I should help my neighbor shovel the snow instead of throwing snowballs at them from my fort, I might consider. What I didn’t realize at the time was that it was a COMMERCIAL FOR A RELIGION! If I wasn’t born and raised RoamingRecovering Roman Catholic, seeing Jesus H. Christ’s name up there might have been a red alert, but I was, so it didn’t. (Also, I wasn’t raised in a way that told me we were the only ones that were right, so at least I had that going for me.)
So now this little vid is making it’s way around the web. I recieved it via a link in an email from frequent idea spurner Dave, and I watched it in similar wonder to the old LSD, er, I mean LDS commercials. It was beautiful, and in fact made me happy to be alive. Damn YouTube and their header captions:
I guess what I’m saying is it’s much more effective than this old thang:
In other words, how can so many inches of Tom Cruise can be wrong? (My guess: 60 of his 67…)
There’s a commercial that plays here in Detroit which uses the record scratch sound to express a shock. I can’t recall the product or manufacturer to present an example, but for those of you born in the *gulp* 90’s, the sound occurs at the 0:52 mark in this excellent mash-up:
iTod Meet Coaster Spinner With Weird Arm Thingee?
And I’m being serious here. Why would any modern advertisement resort to such an out-dated cliche? I’m sure the writers thought they were being funny (as I often do and fail miserably), but a record scratch? A RECORD SCRATCH?
Here’s some other things I’ve been JusWondering about:
1) In the song, Only Wanna Be With You, does Hootie cry about the Miami Dolphins, or about “the dolphins” in general (since he’s friends with “theBlowfish,” you see)?
4) Is it just me, or shouldn’t She’s a Beautytotally be a song by Chicago or at least Peter Cetera, instead of The Tubes? It should have been in Mannequin, too. (Was it in that?)
Kim Cattrall’s stiffest performance
5) Much ballyhoo has been made about Conan O’Brien being a neophyte in L.A., but didn’t he live there when he wrote for The Simpsons? (Boom! Research! He lived there when he wrote for HBO’s Not Necessarily the News… No specifics on his home whilst he was on his Homer bender, but I’m still pretty sure he was at least in Hollywood. Turn that ballyhoo into boo!)
Someone check the definition for "brothers" please...
It’s been a short while since I’ve stumbled across something on the TripleDoubleU that’s compable of consuming massive amounts of my time. Congrats to The Gregory Brothers for doing just that.
(SIDENOTE: The group includes a sister, just like how it is with the Warner Brothers – Yakko, Wakko, and Dot, yet I suspect they are not really related, just like how it is with The Ramones. But Kings of Leon are all brothers, which I didn’t initially believe, so who knows? Sarah’s the sister-in-law, married to Evan, oldest brother of Andrew and Michael. Boom! Reasearch!)
Together, they have encompassed a great portion of my weekend by being fantastic on so many levels.
First off – they are talented as all get up. Not just a little get up, or a medium amount of get up – all of it.
Second off – they’re funny as heck. Okay, “heck” might not be as funny as the word “poop,” but I’m not putting that word in any sentence about them. Erm…
Okay, so many levels that include only two, but they’re huge levels, right?
I found out about them through Warming Glow (thanks!) after a post showing this video:
Incredible, right? It skewers auto-tuning, the news in general, and the current state of politics, and still manages to be a good song. Not a classic song per se, but beyond textured for a comedy bit.
After watching the first four auto-tuned news reports on their YouTube channel Schmoyoho amongst other earlier outings, I dove into their Facebook and MySpace pages and was surprised to find they were serious musicians (I really like Butter On My Roll, but who am I kidding… it’s all great.). That elevated their level of a shout out on this page from general to specific. That doesn’t just happen for everyone.
Too bad the 25% of the band that’s “babe” is already spoken for. I love women that can sing. Sarah, if you ever get bored with Evan and are looking for a blogger that tries to be funny on a daily basis, comment on my site and I’ll respond! Srsly, I will comment right back on this blog! (Pourquoi est il que les amours m’échappe?)
In honor, anticipation, and fear of desperate loathing for next week’s release of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, here are some of the film’s stars in what could quite possibly be the best robot song ever…
Ah, the good ol’ days. That’s what people say when they reflect upon their youth.
For my boss (and old friend) Paul and I, the good ol’ days in our Catholic grade school happened way before they were our good ol’ days, as evidenced by our textbooks. Most notably: our music class textbooks.
I know, I know… at least we had a music class. Nowadays, all of the arts are disappearing from our schools (for shame!), but that’s not what this post is about.
The fact of the matter was that we had crappy old text books and a music teacher that could barely play the one instrument she claimed to be able to play (the flute). Sure, it was unfortunate that she replaced the single greatest music teacher ever. (He played “Name That Tune” on the piano – and they were always theme songs!) The following list represents the worst of the songs we were taught… four oldies, one newie, and zero goodies.
Top 5 Songs Burned In Our Brains From Grade School
5. Little Boxes – Malvina Reynolds Paul doesn’t really remember this one, hence it being placed at the bottom spot. I couldn’t forget it, and Weeds wouldn’t let me… until season 4 at least.
4. Du, du liegst mir im Herzen– German folk song Paul refused to sing this song hence to him being xenophobic; but then again he refused to sing any of the songs. For me – it’s my 99 Luftballons.
3. Shortnin’ Bread – James Whitcome Riley
Paul despised (no, loathed!) this song. I didn’t remember it at first, but then it all came crashing back to me like a repressed memory.
2. God Bless the USA – Lee Greenwood
The only current-ish song on the list was also an exercise in irritation. We had to sing this at a recital, and as everyone knows – recitals blow. What’s worse is that we had to hold up signs that read Detroit when we sang that line. Because we lived in Detroit, oh say can you see.
1. Fender Bender– ?
This song presented a unique situation for us. For virtually nowhere on the TripleDoubleU, could we find ant reference to this song. The only proof that it ever existed arrived via a MySpace Forum. It the thread, a reference is made to the lyrics:
Fender bender, yeah yeah yeah!
The poster recalled the misspoken lyric:
Finger banger, yeah yeah yeah!
Which ceremoniously lead to the diddy being banned (band?) from music class. Thanks, Mack Danger, for the memory backup!
I wish we would have thought of "finger banger"...
Since this blog is an open book to all my weaknesses, it’s sorta turned into my (NERD ALERT!) Xavier Protocols. Of my weaknesses (vanilla-scented anything falls high on that list), loud noises while I sleep smacks near the top. On the night of these particular dreams, I fell asleep with the television on only to be awakened by a loud lawyer commercial.
Okay, it wasn’t that one, but imagine if the explosions were audible, then you’d get the picture.
Anyambulancechaser, in the first dream, I encountered a new breed of night creatures… the WHERE-WOLVES. How were they different than werewolves? Let me explain with a (NERD ALERT!) toy from the remakerebootwhatever second Hulk movie:
You see, in the flick, which I have not seen, the dude on the right mutates into the monster on the left. This toy, called theHulk Deluxe Mutating Abomination, does not mutate at all. Instead of either really mutating by adding water, or by simply imagining that it happens, the little guy fits into a compartment on the back of the big guy. Dumb? You bet.
Well that’s pretty much how where-wolves worked. Wolves merged with their host humans so both could exist. To recombine, humans hovered over the wolves. Now that you’ve pictured it, moving on…
My other dream involved a (NERD ALERT!) Star Wars character. Growing up, I knew this bounty hunter…
…as Zuckuss and this guy…
…as 4-LOM. But as it turned out, the original Kenner toy line had it wrong in the 80’s, and with the re-releases of the toys in the 90’s, they rectified the problem and named each of them correctly. To me though, Zuckuss will always be 4-LOM and 4-LOM will be Zuckuss. Until I was corrected in a dream. This guy…
…showed up to tell me his name really was Allen.
INGREDIENTS: Turkey and provolone on a bagel and a Mountain Dew. And beer.
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