i love puns

Coinkydink Or Coinkydonk? Time To Cash In On The Collective Unconscious

Posted on by sgottahurt

The other morning, I was waking up (as opposed to not waking up, which would be dying I guess… and digress), and I watched an infomercial for this:

The 30 Second Smile as it is known was an old idea of mine called The Teethbrush.  Well, it’s not exactly the same, but mine would be even easier/messier.  It would have been a retainer full of moving bristles on the end of a stick, and could have been even quicker than The 30 Second Smile.

(SIDENOTE: As a man who loves puns, I feel like they missed out on an opportunity.  “30 Second” sounds a lot – er, I mean, exactly like “32nd”… Grown adults have 32 teeth…  I don’t know what the punny slogan could have been.  I’m not paid to dream up their ad campaigns!)

So anytooth, this isn’t the first time my ideas have been plucked from the collective unconscious, and I think it’s time for the collective unconscious to pay!

Here’s a list of thoughts nabbed from my napping noggin in the past.

Most recently, it was in the form of an iPhone app I wished existed, and now finally does…

Does not provide directions to the actual border...

Oh, that app was out long before I wrote my post?

Time for me to start doing better research.

(SIDENOTE: I’m probably not really going to do better research.)

A Handful Of… Sort Of Obscure Films Watched Over And Over

Posted on by sgottahurt

They say youth is wasted on the youth.  Well I say, adulthood is a waste if adults aren’t wasted.  (See what I did there?)

Today I present to you A Handful Of flicks (as opposed to a fistful of punches) that I have seen way too many times growing up, wasting my youth as a youth.

  • Summer School (1987)

This movie lead to me discovering (what I consider) the greatest horror film of all time: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  Without this film, it would have taken me longer to discover who Carl Reiner (the director and Rob’s dad) was, but it might have spared me from seeing Mark Harmon’s Worth Winning (going into my Netflix queue… right now).  Also, it may be a contender for starting the “dogs wearing sunglasses” genre of movie posters.

And not speaking of (big red) dogs, but of grown men portraying obnoxious children, there’s…

  • Clifford (1994)

Okay, I might not have been so young when I watched this film over and over and over again.  But I mean, come on!  Martin Short is playing a ten-year-old boy!  Hijinks and hilarity ensue!

Now back to dogs (and films made in 1987)…

  • Walk Like a Man (1987)

Howie Mandel – of America’s Got Talent, Deal or No Deal, Bobby’s World, Good Grief, and blowing up rubber gloves over his head – was raised by dogs.  ‘Nuff said.

  • Moving (1988)

Without this Richard Pryor vehicle, the world would never have met Stacey Dash (where has she been, by the way?)… but it would have also been spared Dana Carvey and Randy Quaid… moving on…

  • Cloak & Dagger (1984)

Elliott wasn’t good in this movie, E.T... Henry Thomas’ character shot and killed a bad guy in the end of this movie!  Try to fit something like that in the next Alvin and the Chipmunks Squeakuel, Hollywood!

  • Can’t Buy Me Love (1987)

I’ve already professed my love for Amanda Peterson long ago on this site, so let’s leave it at that.  Well, that post and this quote:

There’s only one other titty, quite this pretty…

How’s this for a segue…

What can money buy, if not love?  Ho, ho, ho’s!

  • Santa Claus: The Movie (1985)

This is the first movie I ever remember reading a review about.  I recall some comment about producer Alexander Salkind’s obsession with origin stories.  You see, this film dealt with Santa’s humble beginnings (unlike Tim Allen’s punderful The Santa Clause), and Salkind’s previous productions included The Three Musketeers (1973) and Superman (1978).  Three films = obsession, I guess.

And this last cinematic masterpiece just screams REMAKE WITH TRACY MORGAN!  (Not really…)

  • The Toy (1982)

As a youth, I didn’t waste time pondering the logistics of a film about a rich white man buying his spoiled son a black man as a toy… so why start now!

Onto being an adult, and getting wasted!

Coinkydink Or Coinkydonk? Am I A Trendsetter?

Posted on by sgottahurt

As I (unabashedly) brought to your attention in my last Happy Find, I started another blog called Micro Mike Rowe.  I began that punny wonder on April 20th.

Then on April 26th, this bit appeared on Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! Enjoy Little Danson Man:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about “Coinkydink Or Coinkydonk?“, posted with vodpod

Hmm… my cut-and-paste craze is barely off the ground, and one screwball skit makes a trend not.

But then yesterday, on May 3rd’s Attack of the Show, apropos of nothing, co-host Morgan Webb appeared between segments as Tiny Morgan.  Alas there is no available clip of that, but this bit immediately followed it.  As (barely) proof, check out Kristin Adams opening for The Feed (or check this vid at the 2:54 mark):

Vodpod videos no longer available.

Morgan Webb is much more fun to edit than Mike Rowe... Sorry, buddy...

Coinkydink?  Or Coinkydonk?  You decide…

Happy Finds… Playing Catsup Because I Mustard

Posted on by sgottahurt

I’ve had a busy week, but keep in mind it’s all for all of you!  Here are a few of my Happy Finds…

1) If I could be a pinky’s worth of whatever makes up The Most Interesting Man in the World, I would be a happier man.  I’m already a happy man because I’m not this guy:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

2) I once posted about a Happy Find upon discovering Garfield Minus Garfield.  I also painstakingly edited Garfield into other comics before I discovered the Adobe Suite (MS Paint all the way).  Now I present to you – Garfield Minus Garfield: The Movie…

Vodpod videos no longer available.

The next two are self-explanatory.  Well, I guess the above two were self-explanatory as well.

3) Michael Bublé Being Stalked By A Velociraptor

This one has style, and bite!

4) Yahoo! Answer Fail Blog

Then what are fine arts?

5) This is for all the ladies that get wet waiting for John Cusack.  In the rain!  They get wet in the rain!

Vodpod videos no longer available.

Worth 1002 Words… Dolphin Uprising Edition

Posted on by sgottahurt

Evolution Revolution

Some alternates:

  • Higher Porpoise
  • Robo Blowhole
  • Dolphin Lundgren
  • See World
  • Bad Mammal-Jamma
  • H2 Uh-Oh

The Sh– To Just Sh–ty… We Are The World

Posted on by sgottahurt

Just like (almost*) all remakes, We Are the World doesn’t even hold a candle to the original.  The thrill of all those superstars getting together for a great cause was unprecedented… at least for 1985.  No one seemed to be involved for the face time or the advancement of their careers because they already had plenty of face time and stable careers.

Soloists from the 1985 version (known as USA for Africa):

Not one of them (not even Kim Carnes, who had previously won two Grammy’s for Bette Davis Eyes) was an obscure artist.  Sure, chorus had its odd inclusions (Dan Aykroyd and Bette Midler par exemple), but the overall tone of the arrangement felt sincere.  Especially since Madonna wasn’t any part of it.

LINGERING QUESTION: Why didn’t Smokey Robinson get a solo part?

Now before ripping, um, getting into the new Artists for Haiti version, I must give pause to ponder: are my feelings based in nostalgia (which is like an underage female robot), or in actual taste?  Has the concept of this type of project been tainted by the likes of Voices that Care, I’m Fucking Ben Affleck, 30 Rock’s Kidney Now, and Huey Lewis’ I Am the World (videos below)?  Or am I simply jaded?

Without further ado, ugh, We Are the World 25 for Haiti (skip to the 1:12 mark to get around the egomaniac that is Jamie Foxx):

Could you make it through the entire thing?  You’re a brave soul indeed.  Now I can’t really fault or knock the intentions or the cause, but here are some things that I can knock:

  • Who the fuck is Justin Baby Bieber and why the fuck is he taking Lionel Richie’s spot?  Oh, he’s a YouTube star?  My bad.  (*wanking motion*)
  • A Pussycat Doll?  Srsly?
  • Academy Award-winning, non-American Idol-winning Jennifer Hudson can sing.  That’s for sure, but compared to the grouping above (save poor Kim Carnes), is she that big of a star?  (I was being figurative, no pun intended… even though I love puns.)
  • Even though I didn’t know who Jennifer Nettles was, I found out she’s from Sugarland.  I know think they’re a popular country band, so she earns her Kenny Rogers card.
  • The next stretch I can approve of: Tony Bennett, Janet Jackson, and Barbra Streisand. My only problem (besides the reused MJ footage) is it feels like foot-stomping.  (Foot-stomping = “Wah!  I didn’t get my turn!”)
  • Josh Groban and Mary J. Blige are welcome parties, but their presence (see what I did there?) reminded me of their comedy appearances below.
  • Fuck Miley Cyrus.  I don’t mean literally, of course.  Because she’s underage (and maybe a robot).
  • Enrique Iglesias has been around awhile, has family credentials, and brings a Latin flair, so okay.
  • Jamie Foxx simply leaves a bad taste in my mouth, er, ears, or whatever with his Ray Charles impression, so fuck him.
  • Another deserved stretch: Wyclef Jean, Adam Levine (of Maroon 5), Pink, BeBe Winans, Usher, Celine Dion, Fergie, and Toni Braxton, with passes for Mary Mary (gospel singers) and Isaac Slade (of The Fray).

This is when it turns Just Shitty:

In closing:

  • Why is the Pussycat Doll shown so much?
  • Why weren’t these artists given solos over some of the others: Gladys Knight, Natalie Cole, Faith Evans, or Rob Thomas (amongst others in the chorus)?
  • Srsly, why is the Pussycat Doll shown so much?
  • Why did Paul Haggis have to direct this?  And why couldn’t he get the core soloists together like in the original?
  • What is Wyclef saying at the end of the song?  Unity?  Piety?  R.U.T.?
  • And I just can’t shake the feeling that all these people have the same agent…

Vodpod videos no longer available.

*Dawn of the Dead and The Hills Have Eyes were decent remakes.

InASense, Lost… Poland? More Like Death Metal And Sexy Naked Lady Land

Posted on by sgottahurt

I’m a Polack.  Or I’m Polandese, or Polandan… whatever it’s called.

And having never been there, I would assume my fellow Polanders would be mild and meek.  Based upon the symphonic blackened death metal band (yes, that’s their description) from Poland, Vesania, I might have made a dupa of u and me.

Well, then at least their wholesome, right Joanna Krupa?  You can barely Google her and not find her bare somewhere.  (Not that I’m complaining.)

(SIDEJOKE: How many poles does it take to hold up a Pole that gets naked for PETA?  Answer in image below.)

Oh, that's not a pole holding her up. My bad.

(BONUS UNNECESSARY PUN: I’m gonna go Polish one off now.)

In My Brain While Sleeping… Was It CostCo Or Sam’s Club? No, It Was Even Better

Posted on by sgottahurt

Where do dreams come from?  Are they subconscious remnants of the days events?  Are they connections to alternate realities?  Are are they just dreams of things you wish that could be?  Oh how I wish this place existed.

Rides, a food warehouse, Rue McClanahan, and a bear ice sculpture... that about sums it up!

It was the largest indoor extravaganza I’ve ever seen dreamed.  The group that I visited the establishment with immediately split into pairs or off on their own as soon as the doors opened.  As I traversed the expansive main aisle, shelves that would have towered over buildings.  Imagine being inside of a Christmas tree.  Imagine Las Vegas in a warehouse.  That was this place.  Anything and everything you could want to buy was within (or just out of) your reach.

As I ambled about, I stumbled into a live trivia game show in the style of Who Wants To Be a Millionaire hosted by none other than the last living Golden Girl, Blanche Devereaux herself, Rue McClanahan.  I participated for a while, until the sound of striking pins was audible in the distance.

In search of the growing cacophony of mechanical wonders and games, I passed a giant ice sculpture of a polar bear.  There was a nameplate, but I didn’t bother reading it at that point.

I headed toward the festival atmosphere, where a rollercoaster, a disco dance floor, a pool hall, a bowling alley, a roller rink, and an arcade all intertwined without any walls or ceilings but those of the warehouse.  I got lost in the glory for so long, that as the day broke through the high windows, I made my way back to the ice sculpture.  The night hold taken its toll, and most of what remained was an icy lump and a fountain puddle.

It was then I finally read the plaque:

INGREDIENTS: Cottage cheese and Mountain Dew… gross.

Awful Battle… (Evil) Weight Scales

Posted on by sgottahurt

The weight scale in the bathroom of my mother’s house is, I’ve decided, completely evil.

I’m not one to really watch my #’s, but I have a mild curiosity about it whenever I stop by.

The thing is, her scale lies.  It flat-out lies.  It might be trying to make you feel better, but at first step, it electronically informs you that you weigh X pounds.  Then when you step on it the second time, immediately following that initial reading, the red LED’s read X+4.  So in reality, you weigh Y, so X equals Y-4.  (I need a shirt that says “I Love Algebra” to go along with my “I Love Puns” shirt that I want.)

That being said, in honor of Halloween, let this war of Evil Weight Scales commence!

AWFUL BATTLE… GO!