star wars
InASense, Lost… Palm Beach Sugar Daddy Ken
This product was announced last week, and although it doesn’t make me feel as weak as Fetish Tots did, it still borders “What-the-Fuck-is-Mattel-Thinking?” Ville, therefore still rendering me InASense, Lost.
The “toy” goes bi by this official name: Palm Beach Sugar Daddy Ken. They might have well placed the word Super in there, too.
The dog's name is Sugar, and Ken is his "daddy"... none of this is helping...
Mattel claims that it’s a part of their adult toy line, which I 100% believe. And it’s not like the neutered doll was ever a hero of mine, like how G.I. Joe’s Shipwreck or Star Wars’ (duh) Luke Skywalker were (pictured below).
A Real American Hetero!
It's not a bath in the "traditional" sense...
But this fact remains: it gives me the Malibu Dream Heebie Jeebies. The last time I felt this weird and twisted inside because of a toy was when I learned that Dr. Claw (the unseen bad guy in Inspector Gadget) looked like this:
Come to think of it, he had MAD Cat as a pet, so he was MAD Car's "daddy". And his hair looks fabulous... Perhaps Ken could give him a ring sometime? Perhaps.
Happy Find… A Long Time Ago, In ASCIImation (Plus Star Wars Saved!)
For those of you uninitiated in the ways of the world wide web, ASCII (pronounced ass-KEE) stands for American Standard Code for Information Interchange.
BASICally, this encompasses all 95 printable characters on your keyboard. A term more commonly used in the early days of home computing, many pieces of art have been created using ASCII (and summarily ink ribboned out through dot matrix printers and onto continuous sheets).
Until now, I have not witnessed a masterpiece like this:
Never upset a WOOCII...
Okay, the art is sub par, but the site is insane (click here). It’s (almost) the entire first film animated in ASCII! DOS it help erase the memory of the prequels? Not quite. But Rob Bricken of the awesomely nerdy Topless Robot has theories about what went wrong (or did everything go as planned?):
I’ll tell you my greatest nerd theory, which I’m still kind of proud of — regarding the midichlorians from Phantom Menace. Like all of you, I was aghast that the Force had suddenly turned into biology and racked my brain trying to explain it. And I did — I became convinced that (George) Lucas had put it in the movie to suck on purpose. I reasoned that Lucas was intentionally making these early Jedi shitty, to which I also ascribed Qui-Gon’s dickish refusal to un-enslave Anakin’s mom — and that Lucas was trying to tell us these Jedi had lost their way with the Force. They had turned it into a science, forbidden Jedi from loving. Had shitty committee meetings instead of doing good. They’d lost their way, and that’s why they could no longer sense the Dark Side when it was right under their fucking noses. So I figured by the third movie, there was going to be a major moment of revelation as the Jedi were getting destroyed, probably by Yoda, about how they’d screwed up, and in that sense, by destroying the corrupted Jedi, Anakin truly was bringing balance back to the Force. And when Luke restarted the Jedi order, he would embrace the spirituality and the compassion that the Prequel Jedi had forgotten, finishing the work.
If you ASCII me, that sounds about right!
The Sh– To Just Sh–ty… Harrison F—ing Ford
Is he the one-armed man?
Harrison Fucking Ford. It’s his middle name, really. (No, not really. He has none. He did go by Harrison J. Ford early in his career as not to be confused with the silent film actor of the same name, but I digress.)
Back in the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and, um, just 2000, Ol’ Harry was at the top of his game (for the most part). Not only did he bring us the above two scoundrels with their hearts of gold (each for three movies, since there is no Crystal Skull, just as there are no prequels), he also brought us:
- a cowboy in a roadster (American Graffiti)
- a cowboy in a temple (The Frisco Kid)
- a detective in a strange land – the future (Blade Runner)
- a detective in a strange land – Amish country (Witness)
- a doctor chasing after terrorists who kidnapped his wife (Frantic)
- a doctor chasing a one-armed man who murdered his wife (The Fugitive)
- a doctor chasing his wife to murder her (What Lies Beneath)
- a lawyer trying to put his life back together (Presumed Innocent)
- a lawyer trying to put his life back together (Regarding Henry)
- a business man with love problems (Working Girl)
- a business man with love problems (Sabrina)
- a cop that shares his home (The Devil’s Own)
- a cop that sells homes (Hollywood Homicide)
- a politician having a problem before a plane crash (Air Force One)
- a politician’s aide having a problem after a plane crash (Random Hearts)
- a father in the jungle (The Mosquito Coast)
- a pilot in the jungle (Six Days Seven Night)
- a soldier during the Vietnam War (Apocalypse Now)
- a soldier during the Cold War (K-19: The Widowmaker)
- Jack Ryan (Patriot Games)
- Jack Ryan (Clear and Present Danger)
- a flop (Firewall)
- a flop (Crossing Over)
Whew. That was easy.
Anywookiee, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. Despite the missteps in the late 90’s (Sabrina, The Devil’s Own, Six Days Seven Night), he had a good run. What changed, you might ask. I might say:
Sixty-five-year-old Harrison Ford met Calista Flockhart, 44, in 2002, when she reportedly spilled wine on him at the Golden Globes. The pair immediately started dating and have been together ever since. (via iVillage)
A-ha! Calista Fucking Flockhart happened! So if Harrison Ford wants to get back to creating iconic characters, he needs to say sayonara to Ally McBeal. I know they’re engaged and he co-adopted her adopted son, but it’s never too late to get out of it…
Harry – remember how much divorce costs? $85,000,000 ring any bells? (Notice the date of this article announcing his break from Melissa Mathison.) Don’t you see what a mistake K-19: The Widowmaker that ridiculous Russian non-accent leaving the beloved screenwriter of E.T. did to your film career?! Here’s to hoping you lose those diamond earrings and that “television star,” and you’ll return to save the Star Wars series in Episodes 7, 8, and 9!!!1! You can even have Han Solo die in 8 and skip 9 if you’d like! Whatever it takes! Be daring like Indy used to be!
Stop this from ever happening again:
Worth 1002 Words… Worst. Star Wars Pic. Ever. Edition
No Hope
Some alternates / with alternates:
- Darth Paper / Anakan’t Skywalker
- See Throwupio / Sado Mechanism
- Princess Lame-a / Carry Dildo
- Yo Dumb / Gan Dorf
- Artoo Arnot / Astromech Dud
- Trash Jabbag / Tattooinia Raisin
The Sh– To Just Sh–ty… Fantasy Movies
NOTE: Everything that follows is my opinion… and it’s all fact.
Fantasy movies are geared toward the audience that longs to be whisked away, and that’s namely the pre-teens of this world. The reason why they are so susceptible: there’s still imagination (child-like wonder) remaining in their brains. Any adult that is too into fantasy films obviously has a mental/social disorder (hello PotHeads and Twihards)…
I’m not meaning to be mean. I’m merely meaning to get to the bottom of why fantasy films don’t do it for me anymore.
Growing up, I loved Clash of the Titans, The Beastmaster, The Dark Crystal, Gremlins, Tron, The Princess Bride, and some movies had to deal with a Star War or a few. There were others that I couldn’t quite get into like Legend and Labyrinth, but I always felt they were more for the young ladies (for the record, The Princess Bride was being read to Kevin Arnold Fred Savage).
Outside of The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (it’s insanely absurd and clever), when I was turning thirteen, Willow wasn’t even cutting it anymore. If I was going to like a dopey fantasy movie, it had something else going for it, such as my crush on Winona Ryder in Edward Scissorhands or me still being a fan of Steven Spielberg when he made Hook.
Let’s use The Neverending Story trilogy (yes there were three – and a TV show) to reiterate:
The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly
The first film released in 1984: AWE-SOME (hyphen added for pause worthy emphasis).
The second film released in 1990: (Avoid making tasteless joke about Jonathan Brandis, avoid making tasteless joke about Jonathan Brandis, avoid making tasteless joke about Jonathan Brandis…)
The third film released in 1994: Really?! Highlights from an IMDB review:
I cannot begin to describe how awful this movie is… NES3, for lack of a better term, sucks. The storyline was as unimaginative and vapid as you could hope for… After the fart jokes and potty humor commenced, I just couldn’t take it any longer. My advice is don’t wast your time and ruin your childhood memories with this piece of refuse.
Now I don’t count superhero movies or animated films because they’ve almost attained the status of having their own genre. Outside of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, what do you have left to defend? The Mummy films? Van Helsing? (Not fair – those are mostly Stephen Sommers‘ pieces of crap.) Okay, then. MirrorMask? Eragon? Beowulf? Lady in the Water?! Stardust and Coraline were even kind of meh.
(SIDENOTE: I will give props to The Last Mimzy, The Bridge to Terebithia, and Big Fish for tugging my heart strings, 300 for being new, and the first Pirates of the Caribbean for the laughs. Am I missing any others?)
Ultimately, have fantasy films declined from being the shit to just shitty, or am I just getting old? I guess the proof will be in the pudding (sorry for the oldtimer-y expression) when the following films get remade or updated:
(FINAL SIDENOTE: I really, really, really, seriously hope that M. Night Shyamalan doesn’t fuck up The Last Airbender. I looooove that cartoon. That ended it’s run. On Nickelodeon. Just last year. Stop looking at me that way! I don’t have that serious of a mental/social disorder! Use this blog as proof!)
In My Brain While Sleeping… The Life And Times Of Admiral Ackbar
"I'm your host, Admiral Ollie Ackbar, and this is my sidekick, Ed McMonCalamari."
This was one messed up dream, and it requires a bit of back story. I don’t know if the back story occurred in the dream, or if my subconscious naturally knew it, but here we go:
Apropos of nothing, including Star Wars, Leno, Letterman, Conan, Kimmel, and Fallon, everyone’s favorite token Mon Calamarian, Admiral Ackbar, hosted the highest-rated late night show in America (think Krusty the Clown). He was on top of the world, until one night when a prank went bad.
Apparently, a woman was invited on stage for a skit that involved ham, bacon, and other various pork products, such as, um, pork. She was eight months pregnant, and against the producers wishes, Ackbar went ahead with the bit. Something about the segment startled her and caused her water to break. Live. On national TV.
This lead to him getting banned from everything and everywhere, and he eventually went into the witness protection program when threats on his life seemed credible. Now back to the present day… dream.
While living under his new identity, he eventually started butting heads with his handlers. Unable to blend in, he put on an elaborate show which exposed his location. Soon enough, the credible threat found him. It ended up being a mechanical pig that looked a bit like this:
(Not So) Artistic Representation
The roboswine wasn’t the only surprise…
All along, the reason the government thought Ackbar’s life was in danger was incorrect. They believed it was because the public was outraged that he caused his audience member to go into early labor. The real reason? The pigdroid was upset about the wasted pork products, bitter of the fact that he no longer consisted of pork products.
And the meatless metal meanie never intended to kill Ackbar – he only wanted an apology. The consummate host obliged and soon was back on top of the world.
INGREDIENTS: A late night helping of regular Oreo’s and a glass of chocolate milk.
The Sh– To Just Sh–ty… Filmmaker Chris Columbus
I know he created you, but he also wrote "Christmas with the Kranks"
As a child, my list of favorite films was simple and current. There were the easy ones: Star Wars, E.T., Back to the Future, and Raiders of the Lost Ark. Some of the others… not so easy: Gremlins, The Goonies, and Adventures in Babysitting.
What do those works have in common?
Who has two thumbs and loves Beth Cooper? Not too many movie goers, I'd say.
Steven Spielberg’s protégè, nay, discovery (hah!), Chris Columbus wrote Gremlins and The Goonies, and directed Adventures in Babysitting. For me, he could do no wrong, and let’s be honest: as kids, our taste is horrible. But I feel all three of these films have stood the test of time. Some of his other works? Eh, not so much:
- Young Sherlock Holmes (noted as the first film with an entirely CG character)
- Heartbreak Hotel (a kid kidnaps Elvis… anyone else but me remember this?)
- Only the Lonely (made me thankful I wasn’t a mama’s boy… sorry mama)
Now grant it – he had other hits through the 90’s: Home Alone 1 & 2, Mrs. Doubtfire, and, um, Nine Months? Jingle All the Way? Stepmom? Bicentennial Man?
And to most Potter fans, he directed the weakest films in the series (Harry Potter and the Stuff in the First Movie and Harry Potter Rides Again), but I don’t watch those films, so I don’t hold it against him.
Like his compatriots I will be attacking in future The Shit to Just Shitty’s, it’s about the fall from what imagination, vision, and drive they once exhibited, to the money grubbing, the disillusionment, or the detachment from the public they display in recent works. Is it the state of the studio system? Is it the movie going public’s demands? I offer no answers, only martyrs.
Here’s hoping *hold your breath* *cross your fingers* Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief (that’s the title folks), contains some of the gritty charm of his earlier works, and not the glossy finish of his latest offerings:
Hrm. Looks glossy…
Worth 1002 Words… Star Wars Yoga Edition
In My Brain While Sleeping… Camping Is Not A Good Time For Nightmares
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.
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:
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...
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