I didn’t think anything could beat a Play-Doh dildo (wait, that doesn’t sound right), but I was wrong.
Another day, another new category. I’ve wanted to do a list-type post for a while now, but how many should be on it? How about a handful?
Today’s list isn’t composed of films I’d call guilty pleasures. No… embarrassing pleasures might be more accurate. These are all films I’d love to recommend, but I’m afraid of what you’d think of me.
Let’s start with the obvious ones (for people who know me):
THE REASON I LIKE IT: The love story in the past is contrived, sure… boy meets girl, mom disapproves of boy, girl breaks it off, boy goes to war, girl gets engaged to another boy, boy fixes house and wins girl back. But for me, it’s the frame story that makes the entire film work. And the ending? Blubbering fool = me.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: Didn’t you read what I just wrote?
THE REASON I LIKE IT: I never read the children’s book it was based on so the movie’s ending shocked me. Once again, blubbering fool = me.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: It’s based on a children’s book. And the blubbering fool part.
THE REASON I LIKE IT: It’s weird. The basic concept? In the post-apocalyptic future, a boy and his telepathic dog hunt for food and women for the boy to bang. Seriously. It’s like a tripped out Alice in Wonderland, except not at all.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: It’s weird. And did you see the film’s tagline? “A rather kinky tale of survival.” Yeah.
THE REASON I LIKE IT: It tries to be exciting, inventive sci-fi. It really does. And to be honest, I find it more creative than Avatar.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: It’s a Vin Diesel movie. And it doesn’t try hard enough. Necromongers? Underverse? Conan the Barbarian ripoff ending? Well, that was kind of cool. It’s just that I usually ridicule my friend Jay for liking these type of crappy movies (Starship Troopers, Battlefield Earth, Stargate), and I can’t rip on him for this one. Well, I do, but hypocritically.
THE REASON I LIKE IT: It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, and it contains one of Tom Hanks sincerest performances. Even Madonna and Rosie O’Donnell fail to annoy me. Plus, Madonna’s This Used to Be My Playground is (arguably) a touching ballad. And if you have siblings, how can you not relate to the story of competitive sisters? Oh, and one more thing (I’m beginning to see a pattern here)… the ending turns me into a blubbering fool.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: Do I really need to go into it?
THE REASON I LIKE IT: What are all good horror stories essentially about? Their cautionary tales. The 80’s slasher flicks prayed upon this idea like fat kids and ice cream. What did they teach? If you have sex – you’re gonna die. If you do drugs – you’re die. This film merely upped the ante in those departments, and added an international relations angle. If you’re a boorish American in a foreign country – you’re gonna die. Plus, this movie made me apprehensive about travelling abroad (I’ve since gotten over the fear by visiting Amsterdam and surviving being a boorish American).
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: It’s a gross (and boorish) film.
THE REASON I LIKE IT: It’s an odd mixture of the schlocky Italian giallo and the raunchy American slasher. It really feels like two movies overlapped into one cohesive and oddly entertaining film.
THE REASON I LOATHE ADMITTING THAT: Four words – invisible demon rape scene.
The film American Pie introduced the world to a couple of notable items:
- A horrific connection to apple pie (no image necessary)
- And the concept of MILF’s (courtesy of Stiffler’s Mom)
That film came out eons ago, so I’m left to wonder… why does this commercial trouble me so? (The ending kind of freaks me out.)
Now I know it’s not as horrible as a dick hole in a pie, and maybe I’m being unenlightened by thinking this, but why do things keep breaking in that video? Is her stomach knocking up over shit? Is she crazy? Isn’t that dangerous to have an expectant mother in heels walking around smashed glass?
So many questions…
Not to brag, but I was quite the whipper-snapper at math in high school. In the honors program, A’s were the norm (there was one errant B in the third quarter of trigonometry), and I found out after graduation that my peers had a bet going if the valedictorian or I would score higher on the advanced placement test (more of them picked me than her… I earned a 5 out of 5, and I assume she did, too… but still… me > her).
Boasting does not become me, and since I’ve painted myself Just Sh–ty after claiming I was The Sh–, it’s time for me to deflect, quick!
So, yeah, math. It used to be pretty cool to “know” and “understand” how to solve problems without calculators, to me at least. It’s like history in that way – if you don’t learn from it, you’re doomed to repeat it. Well, maybe not, but my point is this:
Kids today have it easy.
Too easy? I wouldn’t go that far. In reality, does anyone really need to know how to _____ without computers? In reality, kids today need to know more about the birds and the bees, than tangents and cosines, or in other words, more about f—ing than functions.
Over the past year, there has not been 1, nor 2, nor 3, nor 4, nor 5, but at least 6 (!) math (!) teachers that have been found guilty of becoming involved with their students. That doesn’t add up. (Sorry, had to.)
(Keep in mind the St. in front of each prof’s name represents Sex teacher, not Saint. Did you buy it?)
Normally, the point of Worth 1002 Words is to get quickly to the point. That is, I post a picture (the 1000 words) and the two word caption (the 2 words). Sometimes, I offer alternates to the two word caption, which usually means my initial “joke” wasn’t strong enough (and the alternates do not help).
This one is a bit questionable in content (hence the NSFW shout out), but here’s the teaser – it involves the dude on the left and the guy on the right, and the alternate captions are:
- Reese’s Piece
- Amblin’ Entertainment
- Steven Squealberg
- Beeee Goooood
(picture after the jump)
I’ve been on a bit of a drought in regard to dreams lately. I’ve had a few false starts, such as:
- A dream about a movie starring The Two Coreys (Haim and Feldman, back in the day in their prime) and they were trying to get their parents to marry each other à la the Parent Trap.
- A dream where I went on a Muppet hunting safari but didn’t know it.
- A dream where I realized how funny it is to put “The” in front of various subjects, like The Fonz, The Hamburger, The State, and The Sex.
But last night, I had a vision about a vision like no other… I had inadvertently developed a new art form dubbed:
Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante
Okay, I’ll admit that I don’t know Spanish, and I don’t exactly remember the hack job that went on in my subconscious (although it was kinda close to the above Babel Fish translation), but for you gringos it means:
Shiny Mexican Optical Illusion
Turned out I wasn’t the one that originated the name. There once was a Mexican artist/philosopher that initially proposed the possibility of what I accomplished. His theory:
Two images can be created on top of each other. One will be visible in reflective light, and one will be visible in non-reflective light. – a Mexican artist/philosopher
So in some alcoholic stupor reeking of brilliance, I drew a picture that looked like this in “reflective light” (whatever that means):
And in “non-reflective light” (again, whatever that means), the artwork looked like this:
I drew it as a doodle. A throw away scribble on crinkled scrap paper. But someone – the right someone – saw it, and heralded me as a mathematical genius for pulling off the Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante manually.
In fact, it was a forgotten art theory, and I was thrust into the limelight, not unlike Andy Warhol. My fifteen minutes were beginning after my scribble was purchased for $500,000 by an unknown collector. Duplicates of my work were sold in bulk at mall stores built just for my Shiny Mexican Optical Illusion. The hype was similar to the interest over those pictures you stared at to see sunken treasure ships and sharks.
But I couldn’t live up to the expectations and failed to duplicate my success. 14:58, 14:59, 15:00 minutes hit, and I woke up.
Here’s the thing… I feel I could duplicate the Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante in real life. I only need to figure out to create “non-reflective light.”
INGREDIENTS: Two cold pieces of pizza and a couple pitchers of Blue Moon.
Ah, true love. Does it really exist? Is it simply a term to describe a reaction of gurgling chemicals and snapping pheromones? Is it phenomenon that only occurs when soul mates find each other?
The governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford, certainly believes in it. You know this guy… he disappeared for a few days and spent them with a woman other than his wife. Chemicals and pheromones? Soul mates reuniting?
This [relationship with Maria Chapur] was a whole lot more than a simple affair, this was a love story. A forbidden one, a tragic one, but a love story at the end of the day. (NYTimes.com 6/30/2009)
I will be able to die knowing that I had met my soul mate [Chapur]. But it was one of those things, I knew the cost. (Associated Press 6/30/2009)
Hopefully these two videos can offer up some answers. The first video falls a little more in the chemicals/pheromones camp, and it captures the lust of that definition of true love. The second video is the greatest expression of what happens when two soul mates lose each other.
In all actuality, no they don’t. This is an AWFUL BATTLE… GO!
SIDE NOTE: The next video is a little long, but once you get the gist of the first five minutes (it’s a love story to himself… he smiles every time the song mentions it… hmm, I wonder why she left you?), skip to the 5:00 minute mark for the finale. Priceless!
This happened on a news broadcast here in Detroit. I don’t know how someone pulled the wool over the network brass’ eyes (or whatever the furry dam-building creature’s pelt is called), or if someone genuinely possesses that name (doubt it would be filmed if that were true), but I won’t spoil the joke:
I’m glad no one at Channel 4 was so uptight to exclude the shout-out, on the off-chance it is real. That usual uppity highbrow mentality keeps cool commercials like this one out of the good ol’ U.S. of T&A:
But on theother hand, our Puritanical ways keep weird shit like this from happening on TV, too:
BONUS UNCOMFORTABLE WEIRDNESS: Click here.
(thanks again to Chris and Dave)
Will wonders never cease? As in, “I wonder how this fetish developed?”
Allow me to introduce MACROPHILIA to your lexicon. It’s not what you think. Or it’s exactly what you think. Anything philia usually has to deal with makin’ whoopie (sorry, now that I have cable, I’ve skimmed past an episode of the Newlywed Game, hosted by Carnie Wilson for some reason). And macro means big, so volia!
Apparently, there’s a portion of men that get excited at the prospect of being stepped on by a giant woman. Want more proof, check out this kind of NSFW site. It’s partially about dominance, partially about foot fetishism, and partially about voreaphilia (geez!), but it’s totally… odd.
As for where the fetish originated in older gents?
And for future generations?
Your mind will probably already be made up before I finishing claiming the opposite, but I do not intentionally seek out website addresses with the word “fuck” in them. In fact, they find me. That’s the way it is with so-called dirty words… they just jump out at you.
I used to work in a medical center filing reports, and believe me, it becomes like A Beautiful Mind when you stumble across any sex term. The words start growing and floating off the page. But now I’m off topic, as usual.
Today I present, Why the Fuck Do You Have a Kid? Sample anyone?
Just a small example of the sad state of affairs hilarity that exists on the site. Enjoy? I mean – ENJOY!