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Tuesday, June 30, 2009

What the WTF? - Gay Exorcism

As Laurie Perez says in this clip, this video speaks for itself. And what it says disgusts me.

It's not the kind of disgust that you get when you see a sorry piece of shit of a human being doing some sorry shit and you look down on him. No, that kind of disgust is pretty disgusting in itself. The disgust I feel is the disgust that comes from that knowledge that these assholes were probably honestly trying to help this kid. And that we're all fucked.

I'm trying not to be a downer here, but evil shit like this--and it is evil shit--fucking low down deep evil shit--depresses the hell out of me. I ask myself why this kid had to have his "soul murdered," to paraphrase the hyperbolic-in-any-other-context words of True Colors executive director Robin McHaelen, and I come up with one thing: human nature.

It's just fucking human nature. It's the way we are. Try to follow me here: We have a natural desire to fit in coupled with an innate distrust of people or things or ideas that are new or different, so when a group of people (cr8zy church people) are confronted with something different (a gay kid) they don't know what the fuck to do. They look at their little "instruction manual" and find the passages that fit their prejudices (gays are icky) and then act out the silly little rituals (or fucking intense exorcism rituals)their elders taught them until the problem is solved (the kid runs away, commits suicide, or pretends he's not gay). This has happened over and over again throughout history, probably because thousands and thousands of years ago it helped us survive as a species, and these people probably honestly thought they were doing this kid a favor. Maybe they're just evil fucks out to make a quick, crass name for themselves, but I've seen this kind of stuff firsthand. I'm pretty sure they thought they were doing the right thing.

It's because this evil impulse to change someone can so easily be seen as the right thing that it's so depressing. How do we get rid of it? How do we stop this stupid, destructive cycle? How do we know we're not falling into this trap ourselves? Maybe someday those who question authority, tradition, and ritual as a matter of course will outnumber those who blindly follow those they trust, whether it's a religious institution, political party, or quack doctor. Maybe someday some real forward-thinking motherfucker will realize that we should just let each other be.

That's the only answer I see. Let each other be. Sure, let's stop people from stealing and killing and stuff like that, but let that kid down the street be gay. You may think he's going to hell and you need to save him, but if you follow the "let him be, he's not hurting anybody else" mantra, you'll avoid the awful, inevitable realization that you were a real dick to a kid for no good reason. Let those weirdos downtown walk around naked. They're not hurting anyone. Let that creepy guy film himself masturbating. You don't have to watch it. See, everyone can benefit.

And what about that poor kid in the video? It must be pretty awful to be caught up in some crazy bullshit that assumes an essential part of your personality is just plain evil--that the only reason someone would be the way you just are is because they were possessed with pure evil. Pretty fucked up when the only way you know to think tells you to hate the only way you know to be. Fucked up and depressing. I hope this kid learns to just let himself be. If he can do that in spite of that experience--in spite of being on YouTube for all to see and mock and publicly condescend to and sympathize with--then maybe there's hope for all of us. Read the rest of this article.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Billy Mays: 1958-2009

Now when there's thunder I can comfort my frightened children by saying, "It's just Billy Mays shilling Oxi-Clean in Heaven.  Go back to sleep, sweethearts."

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Saturday, June 27, 2009

My Favorite Michael Jackson Song

I may be the only person on the planet to pick "Who Is It" as his favorite Michael Jackson song, but I'm not sorry.  It's a damn fine song.  It was one of the few songs on 1991's Dangerous that I really got into.  I remember sitting on the basement stairs, Walkman in my lap, listening to "Who Is It" over and over again.  The gut-wrenching disappointment in MJ's voice sent shivers up my 12 year old spine.  In my heart I was right there alongside Michael wondering just who it was his lady friend was whoring around with.  Could it be a friend or, horror of horrors, his brother?  Tito, perhaps?  Shame on you, Tito.  To this very day I sing the heartbreaking chorus whilst washing the dishes or scooping out Garbage's litter box.  It's a great song, albeit not the King of Pop's most popular.  I don't expect to hear it on any radio station tributes this weekend, you know, unless they burn themselves out replaying "Billie Jean" for the 97th time.  In a way I'm glad my favorite Jackson song is one of which very few people are aware (unless I've got my head shoved way up my ass and it happens to be an international super hit).  "Who Is It" is a highlight in a career full of dizzying Top 40 successes.  Who is it?  It's Michael F'ing Jackson, that's who it is!

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Thursday, June 25, 2009

Michael Jackson: A Legacy of Weird

When I learned of Michael Jackson's death tonight, I turned to the wife and said quite matter-of-factly, "It's a shame he couldn't have died fifteen years ago."  Now before you go and label me a heartless bastard, think for a minute.  If Jackson had passed away in, say, '92 or '93, he'd have been spared the humiliation of having his balls photographed and we wouldn't have to equate The King of Pop with creepy sleepovers and Jesus Juice.  Try bringing up Michael Jackson in a conversation tomorrow at the office or in line at the local burrito joint.  The guy in front of you ain't gonna start listing his favorite Jackson 5 songs or describe in great detail his favorite scene from Moonwalker.  No, he's probably gonna make a joke about Michael showing up at the local JC Penney because of a sale on young men's pants.  Or he'll make a crack about Michael's plastic nose, like I did over a basket of chips and salsa when my wife informed me that Jackson had been rushed to the hospital earlier in the day.

Jackson was a musical genius, there's no denying it, but I'll always remember him as a gaunt, zombie-esque manchild who invited prepubescent boys to spend the night in his bed at a secluded ranch full of carnival games and exotic animals or as the deranged lunatic who dangled his infant son out of a hotel window.  Yes, he wrote Thriller, but he also sucked face with Elvis Presley's daughter on Mtv, still quite high on my list of the most nauseating things I've ever had the displeasure of witnessing.  
I wasn't a huge Michael Jackson fan, but like anyone with a soul, I greatly enjoy music and there is no doubt that Jackson left behind some great tunes.  We certainly witnessed the death of an icon Thursday afternoon (two icons, really, and four this month alone!), but an icon with an unfortunate and downright strange final act.
Like I said, I wasn't a Michael Jackson super fan, but here is a list of moments in my life where me and Jackson intersected:
1.  I'm almost certain I was into Weird Al Yankovic's parodies before I even heard an actual Michael Jackson song.  I was a huge fan of Even Worse, though "Fat" was far from my favorite song.  Call me a Weird Al snob, but I've always enjoyed his original songs and genre parodies more than the straight parody stuff and Even Worse contains some of my favorites ("Melanie," "Velvet Elvis," "Good Old Days").  I thought "Eat It" was pretty stupid.  My mother had Thriller (whose mother didn't?), but we never listened to it much.  My dad was always making us listen to "The Legend of Wooley Swamp" by the Charlie Daniels Band anyway, so there really wasn't time for "Billy Jean" or "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin."
2.  Christmas, 1991, apropos of nothing, my parents present me with Michael Jackson's Dangerous.  I didn't ask for it, I didn't even know what it was when I unwrapped it.  "Oh, hey, Michael Jackson.  Thanks?"  That night though I put it in my Walkman and listened to the whole damned thing.  And I didn't hate it.  There were some stand outs ("Who Is It," "Will You Be There," "In the Closet") and of course some total duds ("Remember the Time," "Jam," "Heal the World"), but I gave it a chance.  By the start of the new year, Dangerous was already out of the repertoire, discarded in my audio tape drawer with my Boston Pops for Kids tape and Michael Peace's Rappin' Bold.  I never forgot "Who Is It" though and to this day, at random, unpredictable moments, I still find myself singing the hauntingly stupid chorus.
3. On April 1, 2004, Comedy Central aired one of my all-time favorite South Park episodes, "The Jeffersons."  The plot is quite simple: Michael Jackson, er, I mean, "Mr. Jefferson" and his young son, Blanket, move to South Park to escape the pressures of living life in the public eye. Cartman forms a disturbing bond with "Mr. Jefferson," while Kyle and Stan do everything in their power to help give Blanket a normal childhood by chiding "Jefferson" for his childish ways.  I don't know why my favorite episodes of South Park are about the sexual abuse of children ("Cartman Joins NAMBLA," "Miss Teacher Bangs a Boy"), but watching Jackson and Cartman sing a duet while riding a large-than-life toy train or tongue kissing in Stan's worst nightmare is some of the funniest South Park shit to date.  This episode premiered shortly after that weird Martin Bashir documentary in which Jackson discussed his love of Peter Pan and inappropriate sleepovers.

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Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Epic Badass Smack-Down: Film 6

Title: The One
Badass: Jet Li
What the hell?: Yu-Law (Jet Li), a parallel universe-hopping serial killer, quantum leaps into modern day Los Angeles for the expressed purpose of assassinating mild-mannered policeman Gabriel Law (also Jet Li) and becoming "the one."  Each time Yu-Law successfully murders one of his parallel selves, the remaining selves gain ridiculous, superhuman abilities.  In the end, it's Jet Li versus Jet Li in a CGI kung-fu battle you'll grow bored of after about ten seconds.
What's to like: Yu-Law sucker punches an LA police officer with his own motorcycle; in one parallel universe, Carla Gugino looks, walks, and presents her breasts in a manner I'd describe as "Jessica Rabbit-esque"; last post's badass, Jason Statham, shows up in a growly supporting role.
What's to not like: feels familiar, hackneyed and dull; Jet Li is a handsome enough guy, but he lacks charisma; what was up with the spark manufacturing plant in the final fight?; criminals are sent to the Stygian Penal Colony in the Hades Universe?  Really?  
The truth: The One is nothing more than an uninspired mash-up of The Matrix, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and the Mortal Kombat video game series.  There's nothing in this film that you haven't seen before and much, much better in a bunch of other science fiction actioners.  I'm not ready to give up on him just yet even though I've thoroughly not enjoyed either Jet Li film I've seen to date (Hero and this wasteful dreck).  He seems like a nice enough fellow, I guess.
Awwwww, that's too bad--but wait...there's more!  Two more epic films!  Two more colossal badasses!  Who will reign supreme in this battle of badassery!  Stay tuned!
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Wednesday Morning Music: Green Day- "The Grouch (Live)"

One of my favorite Green Day songs from one of my favorite Green Day albums. The best part is when the seemingly uptight host of the show (who has a fucking eyebrow piercing, for Pete's sake) says of the band, "They're so punk, we can't control them." "Green Day" and "so punk" are not phrases I ever thought I'd hear in the same sentence. Read the rest of this article.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Brand New Stupid: Dance Your Ass Off

Finally, somebody has combined two television programs I abhor and created one abysmal back alley abortion of a reality show from Hell.  Dance Your Ass Off gives viewers all the excitement of exciting dance routines, glittery costumes, and jiggling belly fat in one bloated, sweaty package. You will believe people will do anything for fifteen minutes of reality fame, including squeezing themselves into half-shirts and leotards just to prance around in front of a room full of people barely able to hold back their snickering.  Check out this awesome snack...I mean, sneak...peek:

Listen, I'm not the sveltest son of a bitch in the land, all right, so I don't feel one ounce of guilt making fun of these ridiculous fatties.  I'm a huge advocate of shame, in fact, I don't see enough of it these days and it concerns me.  People like the contestants featured above shouldn't be signing up to parade themselves half-naked and rhythmically challenged for all the world (or at least the couple thousand people who actually watch the Oxygen network) to see.  They should join their neighborhood gym.  Or try Weight Watchers (I'm living, no-longer-heavy-breathing proof that the WW system works).  Maybe you think this is your only chance at weight loss, guys. Maybe a steady diet of The Biggest Loser and Extreme Makeover has somehow damaged your bacon-wrapped brains and led you to the incorrect conclusion that the only way to get control of your weight problem is to humiliate yourself on national TV.  Trust me, that's the cheese fries talking.
I'm not going to lie: I can't wait to watch this train wreck.  If there is a fat guy in a bandanna and a leather jacket dancing to "You're The One That I Want" with a young woman he could literally snap in half like a dry twig with one false step on a cable channel somewhere, you can expect me front row center.  I will totally be watching Dance Your Ass Off.  Stay tuned for updates/condolences to the families of those contestants who die of massive heart attacks on Jitterbug Night.

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Jon & Kate Plus [Enter Your Own Unfunny Phrase Here]

Jon and Kate Gosselin will be making a special announcement next Monday on their popular TLC reality show.  Most news organizations are predicting that the troubled couple will reveal that they are splitting up, but GEP isn't so sure. Seems pretty lame to make America wait until Monday just to announce the obvious, so we here at Giant Electric have compiled our own list of possibilities as to what we think Jon and Kate might be announcing on their upcoming very special episode.

1. The show is moving to NBC and will be re-titled I'm a Gosselin Child...Get Me out of Here!

2. Jon and Kate Gosselin are actually fictional characters created by TLC and are portrayed by two actors; the twins were purchased by the network seven years ago and raised on a sound stage to prepare them for a life in front of the camera; and the sextuplets are a troupe of performing midgets who are quite popular in their native South Korea.

3. In an effort to save their marriage, the Gosselins have decided to try for another set of sextuplets.  If this proves to be an impossibility (i.e. Kate's uterus is still all messed up from her previous pregnancies), they are prepared to adopt Nadya Suleman's most recent litter.

4. Kate's hair is actually an extraterrestrial parasite that has forced her to be needlessly cruel to Jon for the past eight years and an emergency buzzcut has worked wonders for the relationship.

5. This fall, Jon Gosselin will appear on a Rock of Love-style show on Vh1, title pending.  (Note: I came up with the names Half-Asian of Love and Single Dad of Love, but my wife hated both. She offered Pussy Whipped of Love, which is OK, but I think something funnier is on the horizon. This is a joke in process and we will keep you posted.)

6. Mady Gosselin possesses pyrokinetic abilities a la Charlie McGee in Firestarter and has threatened to reduce Pennsylvania to smoldering ash if the couple ever considers divorce.

7. In a vision, Jesus Himself has begged Kate to quit the show and give her children a normal, healthy childhood.  Kate is currently weighing her options.

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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Stop Already: Bristol-gate, or Adventures in Willful Ignorance

Why the hell was David Letterman explaining to viewers that he does not advocate the raping of 14 year old girls on his show last week?  Is there any sane person in America who believes that Letterman promotes child rape on his popular late night chat show or takes joy in the the sexual abuse of minors?  Actually, yes, there are people out there that feel this way, though I wouldn't exactly call them sane.

By now you are probably aware of the two stupid monologue jokes that have gotten Letterman in trouble with Sarah and Todd Palin.  For those of you who don't remember, Sarah Palin was John McCain's running mate in the last presidential election, you know, the lady who kind of resembles Tina Fey and is married to Alaska's premiere snowmobile racer.  Apart from being a consistent source of hilarious jokes and a guest star in many a Republican male's wet dreams, Palin was famous for having a knocked-up 18 year old daughter named Bristol.  This is a well known, established truth, in fact, Bristol recently appeared in the pages of People magazine, being fitted for her graduation robe and playing with her newborn.  
So, when Letterman cracked wise about Palin's "daughter" being impregnated by Alex Rodriguez during the Alaska governor's recent visit to New York City, the daughter in question was obviously Bristol Palin, right?  I mean, everyone knows she gave birth to a baby out of wedlock, correct?  
Well, it turns out Bristol was not at that Yankee's game with her mother, but rather Willow Palin, age 14.  Letterman and his writers fucked up, but big deal.  We all got the joke, we all courtesy snickered.  It was, as most late night monologue ones are, a dumb, obvious joke. Except to Sarah Palin, it was a big deal--a colossal deal of epic proportions--and she took her rage to the streets, or rather the media, calling Letterman out as an advocate of sexual abuse.
So, Letterman apologizes for the joke, admits it was in bad taste, and assures American parents that he has no intention of raping their teenage daughters.  Crisis averted--problem solved.

Only it isn't over.  A new group of morons has joined the Palins in their quest to spread stupidity throughout the land.  Yes, the folks at are asking you to lend a hand and do all you can to get David Letterman booted off the Late Show.  On their Web site, the group offers six tips you can use to help achieve this goal, including tweeting about your hatred for Letterman on Twitter, sending e-mails to everybody on your contact list, and writing blogposts to promote the cause.  Hey,, I've got a tip for you: go fuck yourself.

This is the most ridiculous non-controversy I've seen since Carrie Prejean charmed the world with her defensive of opposite marriage.  Sarah Palin and her secessionist husband Todd are being willfully ignorant, and if you are a regular reader of this blog you know that willful ignorance is one of my biggest pet peeves.  Do you really think anyone watching Late Night thought Letterman was making a Willow Palin rape joke?  Of fucking course not!  When a joke featuring the phrases "Sarah Palin's daughter" and "knocked up" is performed, the vast majority of people's minds go straight to Bristol, the Palin daughter who did, in fact, get knocked up. Dammit!

How stupid do you think we are, Sarah?  McCain lost and you faded away, becoming nothing more than a Bill Maher punchline.  Then, David Letterman made this joke, the glorious joke that whisked you and your stupid husband back into the spotlight.  I have a hard time believing you actually think David Letterman was making a sex joke about Willow.  You saw an opportunity to be relevant again and you jumped at the chance. 

And explain to me how a joke about a girl getting knocked up is a joke about a child getting raped?  By that logic, every young woman impregnated outside the bonds of holy, heterosexual matrimony (or within those bonds even, since "knocked up" has become a catch all phrase now) has gotten this way through rape.  If this is the case, why is Levi Johnston allowed to walk around a free man?  Gas up the helicopter, Todd, we're going huntin' and not for wolves this time.

Listen, I'm not a Late Show fan, I'm just a guy with a blog who is sick to death of the willfully ignorant, those who set logic and common sense by the wayside and scream bullshit at anyone who'll agree to put a camera on them and beam their idiotic point of view to a vast viewing audience.  Those of us who possess the ability to think rationally know that you're full of crap, Palin, and we also have an inkling that inside you know you are as well.  So, please, accept Letterman's apology, go back to Alaska, and never bother us down here in the Lower 48 ever again.

For fuck's sake...STOP ALREADY!!!

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Monday, June 15, 2009

An Open Letter to Kim Jong Il

Please don't drop nuclear bombs on us, Kim Jong Il.  Please?  What will the complete annihilation of the United States accomplish?  You know all those movies you love to watch? Well, destroy our country and you'll never find out how the Night at the Museum trilogy ends. Without Hollywood the only new releases you'll be enjoying in your private, air conditioned home movie theater will be hackneyed K-horror and the films of Uwe Boll.

Golly, Mister Il, I don't wanna be blowed up.  None of us do.  We just want you to play nice is all. Honest Injun.  There are so many reasons to keep America around...

1. Daisy De La Hoya has yet to find true love.  

2. That Stephen Baldwin comeback is just one movie away.  I can feel it!

3. There are still so many Bruster's ice cream flavors I haven't tried yet.  Flavors like Caramel Cashew, Coconut Cream Pie, Fudgie Cheesecake Galaxy, Deep Dish Apple Pie, and Chocolate Lover's Trash.
4. I'm still holding out hope that Buffy the Animated Adventures and Ripper will be released.

5. There's still a chance Jon and Kate Gosselin will reconcile.  Actually, you can probably scratch that one.

6. There are so many quality movies in my Netflix cue that I desperately want to watch before I expire: Kiss Daddy Goodbye, Mee-Shee: The Water Giant, Barbarella, Hobgoblins, Blacula, Hot Dog: The Movie, etc.

7. We still haven't heard Adam Lambert's debut album.
8. The star of "Kittens Inspired by Kittens" could grow up to become this nation's first female president.

9. There are so many important international causes I've yet to pretend I understand and/or care about.

10. Someone's gonna take another stab at adapting Super Mario Brothers to the big screen and succeed this time.

11. Kirk Cameron has so many more souls to save/annoy the snot out of.

You see, Kim, we Americans have a lot to look forward to and bombing us to dust would be vile, amoral, and rude.  Why can't everyone get along, huh?  Why can't every nation simply toss it's nuclear arsenal onto the rubbish pile, join hands, and sing a few verses of This Little Light of Mine or Fall Out Boy's Dance Dance or whatever.  The age of distrust and animosity is over. It's time we all sit down, shut up, and watch Vh1's New York inseminate a cow on national TV.

Yours truly,
Matt Lawson of the USA

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Saturday, June 13, 2009

Epic Badass Smack-Down: Film 5

Title: Crank
Badass: Jason Statham
What the hell?: A British hit man is injected with a highly poisonous toxin that will kill him in exactly one hour unless he keeps his adrenaline pumping.  He accomplishes this by recklessly driving his car through a mall, instigating a bar fight with a group of angry black men, snorting cocaine off a filthy men's room floor, damn near overdosing on epinephrine and nasal spray, and humping his girlfriend in the middle of Chinatown while a crowd of Chinese people look on admiringly.  It's essentially Grand Theft Auto brought to life or a 13 year old boy's dream come true.
What's to like: nonstop, over-the-top action from start to finish leaving one barely any time to catch one's breath; Jason Statham is the thinking man's action star and, dammit, I just love a man with a British accent; fiercely original, endlessly clever, and more than a little funny; Amy Smart.
What's to not like: might seem a little goofy to fans of conventional action movie fare, but since I for the most part find the action genre fairly useless, I absolutely adored it.
The truth: I'm tempted to declare Crank the winner of this smackdown right here and now, but then I would be denying myself the pleasure of seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger in a loincloth. Crank is a genre masterpiece.  I think you'll love it and I'm willing to stake my movie snob reputation on it.
Regardless of what's been said, there's still no clear winner in this smackdown.  Only three badasses to go: Jet Li in The One, Ahhh-nold in Conan the Barbarian, and Mister Wesley Trent Snipes in The Art of War.

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Thursday, June 11, 2009

9 Fictional Creatures I Wish I Could Adopt as Pets

My cat, Garbage, has been insufferable lately, always meowing for food and wanting me to pay attention to him. What are you, Garbs, my boyfriend? Geez! Give a brother some space.

I love my cat, but I've come to a place in my life where run-of-the-mill pets (cats, dogs, fish, hamsters, hermit crabs) leave me listless. I long for something more exotic, perhaps something that I can ride to work or carry around in my pocket in case a street fight breaks out and I need a little critter who can get my back. Hence, the following list.
1. Yoshi: Global warming will kill us all in the next few years unless we start living "green." Now, I don't know what that means, but I sure hear enough movie stars and hippies crying about it on TV every three seconds.  One way we can help stave off Mother Earth's eventual death is to get rid of our cars and find a cleaner way to get around.  That's where Yoshi comes in.  If Yoshi can cart a chubby, Italian plumber around for countless Nintendo titles, I think he's up to the task of moving fat-assed Americans from Point A to Point B.  And forget high gas prices: Yoshi runs on fruit and turtle shells.  Fuck you, oil companies!  
2. Pikachu: If there is anything cuter than Pikachu hopping around the cultural landscape, I haven't seen it. Pikachu is loyal, friendly, and full of dangerous levels of electricity.  I wouldn't describe him as the sharpest shooter in Lago (after all, in almost 15 years he's never learned to say anything but his own name), but he certainly would come in handy during a power outage.  And as a pokemon, Pikachu has no problem spending his downtime crammed in a red and white ball roughly the size of a toddler's palm, though I've been told he's more fond of riding on one's head.
3. Gizmo the mogwai: True, followed to the letter of the law, the rules governing the proper care and feeding of a mogwai would result in starvation and death, but most anything falls apart when you think about it too much (the plot to Back to the Future, the war on drugs, Christianity). All that really matters is that mogwais are cute, cuddly, and excellent singers. Cared for properly, mogwais can be loyal, lifetime companions; improperly, well, the less said about that the better.4. Squirtle: Any Pokemon would make a great pet (except Staryu--it's just a stupid starfish!), but not all of them could double as a bidet.  Hear me out!  I'm not saying that would be my primary use for old Squirtle, I'm just saying maybe, if he didn't think it was weird and I promised things wouldn't be awkward later, I might ask him to help clean me up down there once in awhile.  
5. Mac: Not only is Mac friendly to cripples and an excellent whistler, but the little guy lives on Big Macs and Coca-Cola products, and during these tough economic times, don't you want a companion you can feed exclusive from the McDonald's Dollar Menu?  It makes good financial sense.  I would avoid inviting Mac's parents around though, as they tend to get people shot.

6. Nibbler: Pro-Comes from a race of highly intelligent beings, so he would probably be a good conversationalist.  Con-His shit weighs a ton and I already hate cleaning my cat's litterbox.  I don't need this nightmare.
7. Falcor the luckdragon: Who hasn't wanted to take a high-flyin' ride on Falcor after watching The Neverending Story?  That would be so fun--flying around, scaring the piss out of bullies.  On the downside, and I hate to focus on fecal matter two fictional pets in a row, but this guy has got to have locomotive-sized turds, right?  I mean, how do you even pick up after a luckdragon?  A plastic Kroger bag just ain't gonna cut it.

8. Care Bear: A grizzly bear wouldn't think twice about taking your head off with one swing of its mighty paw, but Care Bears are different.  They've risen about their bearish nature and chosen to befriend the human race.  And Care Bears want you to feel good about yourself, share your feelings, open yourself up to the possibility of friendship and love.  They're kind of like adorable, fuzzy Zoloft for your heart.  Awwwwww!
9. Trumpy: Not only is Trumpy an alien from another planet, but he can do stupid things! (7:10)
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Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Fleece Johnson: Finally a Man Who's Not Afraid To Admit He Likes Booty!

Fleece Johnson likes booty more than water. Fleece Johnson is a Mormon. Read the rest of this article.

Summer Music Smackdown Part 1: Telekinesis - "Tokyo"

I don't know what it's like where you are, but it already feels like Summer here in GEPland, and that's got me itchin' to listen to some good old Summer fun time rekkids! What makes a GOSFTR? Well, for me classic Summertime albums are relatively short, somewhat energetic, deal with Summertime themes (sex, drugs, rock n roll, holding hands, etc.), and full of wonderful pop songs. Last year's GOSFTR for me was Vampire Weekend's debut LP. There's a for instance for you.

Usually this whole GOSFTR thing happens organically, but this year, in the interest of becoming a more assertive, successful individual, I've decided to force things a bit take charge of my life and listening habits and choose, through GEP's venerable smackdown process, 2009's all time Summer fun rekkid album of 2009. Over the next several days I'll preview some relatively recently released albums from some relatively young (they look better in bathing suits) bands that fit the profile of what I think a really good Summer fun record should sound like. Then I'll decide who wins 'cause I'm really just doing this for me. Of course, I welcome your input. And let fly with suggestions. I know you got some.

Our first contestant is the debut album (Telekinesis! - out now on Merge Records) of a spry little drummer-fronted band from Seattle called Telekinesis. When you first listen to the albums most popular track "Coast of Carolina", you might think you're listening to a long-lost Death Cab B-side, but then if you thought that it would really just mean you were stupid. If this were a Death Cab song, it'd totally be an A-side. And a hit. Sure, the melodies, vocals, songwriting, and production (courtesy of Chris Walla--duh!) sound eerily Death Cab-y, but they're also eerily exhilarating in that I'm-really-fucking-in-love-with-life kind of way that was missing from the Cab's latest album. And it's a really, really good song, which is really all that matters. We're not keeping score here.

Another standout from this album is "Tokyo," which I think is more representative of the album as a whole both musically and lyrically. This is an album of driving but gentle pop songs about that whole "trying to find my place in this world" cliche thing, but what I think makes the album interesting--and worth listening to--is that no matter how hard they seem to try to be angsty and maladjusted ("I try and keep up, but I know I'm failing"), there's a sense of wide-eyed wonder permeating the album that reminds me of that sense of adventure and newness you feel when you really put yourself out on a limb, like when you go on an ill-advised road trip ("Coast of Carolina" and "Tokyo") or when you first fall in love ("Awkward Kisser"). Or when you talk to people who aren't there ("Imaginary Friend"). You get the idea.

Why it's a contender: The album's short, energetic, and a lot of fun. It reminds me in tone if not in sound of that Vampire Weekend album I liked so much or of the first Rosebuds album.

Where it falls short: It's not as consistent as I'd like, and it's a little sappy, but there aren't any real clunkers, at least not on par with a certain Japandroid song I'll talk about in a few days.

Odds of winning: I'd have to say this is the favorite to win so far, but it's also the album I've spent the most time with that's in the running. There are some strong albums coming up though, so we'll see. Read the rest of this article.

Monday, June 8, 2009


I didn't watch the Tony Awards last night, but I'm certain this was the best part:
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Sunday, June 7, 2009

What the WTF?: Front Page Stories No One Cares About Edition

Sure, North Korea is firing nuclear rockets all over the place, but on the front page of Raleigh's News & Observer we get the following hard-hitting headline: Burial loses ground to cremation. This is front page news, N&O?  This is news period?  I guess it was a slow news week.  No brutal rapes or bloody murders to report, but at least you could still work in dead bodies somehow. What the WTF?!

The headline for this ridiculous non-story is enough, but let's delve deeper into this important news, shall we?

At Brown-Wynne Funeral Home, a family can sit in a softly lit viewing room and watch through a window as their loved one enters the cremation chamber. If relatives want to, they can say prayers and scatter flowers over the body before the metal door closes, or even push the button to move the body along.

Let me get this straight: I can push the button that sends my dead loved on into an oven full of flames?  Sign me up!  

Don't get me wrong--I want to be cremated.  I can't think of anything stupider than having my lifeless corpse buried underground in a $1500.00 casket, unless it's this one (take out the beer first, please). Think about it: your body is rotting in an expensive box under a bunch of dirt. Sure, you're dead, so you can't feel anything or get claustrophobic and twitchy, but c'mon, have some respect for the people you left behind.  You really want them to have to picture you decomposing in some graveyard where goth kids sit around in their Jack Skellington hoodies reading poetry and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon?  Yuck!

But there's still something offputting about being the one to push the button that starts the conveyor belt that delivers your old man to his fiery resting place. Saroj Sharma, of the North Carolina Hindu Society doesn't view it as disturbing in the slightest explaining, "It's just like someone gets on an airplane and they close the door."  Yeah, Oceanic Flight 815.
Of course, funeral homes have found new ways to screw your family members out of more of the hard earned money you left stuffed in your mattress.  In the good old days, you'd get cremated, poured into a shoebox, and handed over to your wife and kids who would either scatter your ashes around some place you really liked (for me, the couch in front of my big screen TV, please) or stick you in a back closet and forget about you.  BAM!  Done.  Now you've got to purchase an urn for the remains:

But as a cremation gets more personalized, the cost can balloon. The simplest urn sells for about $50. But Maness knows of a custom-made sundial urn that can cost as much as $40,000. Necklaces and lockets are widely available for holding small amounts of a relative's cremated remains.

"It's art, some of it," Maness said.

Before I met my wife, I hung out with this girl, we'll call her "Molly," whose father had died and been cremated.  She was given half of the ashes and rest was divided amongst other family members or whatever. She told me she was saving up to have her father's ashes turned into a pearl that she intended to wear around her neck on a chain.  She showed me the Web site and everything. I smiled and nodded, probably bullshitted that I thought it was a fitting tribute, but inside I was screaming. She wanted more from our relationship, but all I could think was that if we were ever to make out, her dad would be right there in pearl form between her boobs watching my every move. We stopped hanging out shortly after this conversation and I met Jen. Everything worked out for the best, except, you know, not for the "Molly."

Listen, I got way off topic here.  My point was, this is not a story.  I've defended newspapers many times on this blog, but I don't know if I can do it anymore if this is the kind of detritus editors think I want to read while I eat my Sunday morning blueberry pancakes and maple-flavored veggie sausage.  Get your act together, News & Observer, and report some f'ing news! Geez!

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Epic Badass Smack-Down: Film 4

Title: Rambo
Badass: Sylvester Stallone
What the hell: Former Special Forces killing machine, John Rambo, has left his life of murder and mayhem behind and has become a snake wrangler in Thailand.  A group of missionaries from Colorado want to hire Rambo to take them upriver into Burma so they can provide medicine and Bibles to the sick and dying victims of a vicious civil war.  It takes a beautiful woman (Julie Benz) to chip through Rambo's icy facade, and he eventually agrees to drop them off in the middle of the war zone.  After that it's back to his hut for more sweating, grunting, and metal pounding (not a euphemism for masturbation in this case).
A week and a half later, a pastor from the States approaches Rambo about taking some paid mercenaries into Burma to rescue the missionaries, who have been captured by a ruthless paramilitary group.  Rambo transports a team of stereotypes back into Burma and decides to join the mission, much to the chagrin of one particularly angry, Scottish soldier of fortune.
What follows is an orgy of severed limbs, slime-covered intestines, various explosions, CGI blood splatter, and enough shell casings to choke a sperm whale.
What's to like: the actual rescue is pretty tense and exciting and everybody (not just Rambo) gets a chance to shine; the reunion between Julie Benz's character and her husband (boyfriend?) brought tears to my eyes even though I'd taken an hour break from the movie to eat tacos; I'm a sucker for epic, blood-soaked shoot-outs, however...
What's to not like:..much of the gore is laughably fake looking (think the Wayne Brady drive-by sketch on Chappelle's Show, only slightly better); Rambo takes out a squadron of Burmese bad guys (and half the jungle) with a CGI explosion, and somehow outruns the blast (think Xander Cage out-snowboarding the CGI avalanche in xXx); so much violence, torture, and human degradation that the whole movie, at times, is simultaneously boring and hard to watch.
The truth: Time has not been kind to old John Rambo: he's jowly, flabby around the middle, and walks with a pronounced limp.  He's like your grandfather, only with thicker arms and a full mane of black hair.  Oldness aside though, Rambo is still an ace with a machete and a bow. Most importantly, 2008's Rambo succeeds in not ruining a successful franchise, which is more than I can say for Mr. Indiana Jones' last outing.  I didn't find myself proclaiming, "More Rambo please," when the film was over, but it certainly kept me entertained for 90 minutes.
We're not even close to being finished, gang!  Stick around because next time we've got Jason Statham in Crank!!!
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Saturday, June 6, 2009

My 5 Favorite Moments from Conan's 1st Week as Host of The Tonight Show

1. Conan runs to LA

A simple, classic bit set to a kick-ass song. Proof that O'Brien would be bringing that old Conan magic to The Tonight Show. A great start to an amazing week!

2. Twitter Tracker

Again, another fairly simple, yet hilarious, bit taken to an absurd extreme. 

3. John Mayer Trio performs California Dreamin'

And I don't even like John Mayer! (Note: I'm trying to find it somewhere else for you since it is no longer available on YouTube.)

4. The Tonight Show traffic copter

Jewish dogs should really keep their festivities out of the road. Funny.

5. Patton Oswalt

Patton talks about being a father, developing telekinetic robot killing abilities, and the possibility of getting "b word fat."
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Friday, June 5, 2009

Friday Night Infomercial-Loud 'n Clear

Finally, a way to hear the petty shit your asshole neighbors say about you behind your back. Even the quiet, subtle sounds of nature are now shrill and obnoxious. And, I'm sorry, but those ladies at the swinging singles party are sooo not chatting about that guy's hotness. It's probably more like, "What the hell is in that dude's ear? Isn't it totes creepy?"

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Thursday, June 4, 2009

June 3rd, 2009: A Day That Will Live In Infamy

What kind of a world do we live in where a topless coffee house in Vassalboro, Maine is burned to the ground and all the news sites can talk about is an Air France plane crash and Barack Obama's visit to Saudi Arabia?  It's sick I tell ya!  Who would want to deny a community its inherent right to purchase fair trade coffee, fancy espresso drinks, and various baked goods from topless men and women of varying degrees of attractiveness?  When that as-yet-to-be-identified arsonist set fire to Vassalboro's Grand View Coffee Shop, they too set fire to the hopes and dreams of young boys who one day would be old enough to buy a cup of joe and a cheese danish from a college coed busting her ass to pay off her massive credit card debt.  You took that away, unidentified hater of all things decent and pure in this world!  You stupid dick!

As I read this devastating story, I considered my own love of coffee and boobs and wept. What if there was a place in my town where me and my friends could enjoy a cappuccino, stimulating conversation on a wide variety of topics, and tits and then, suddenly, WHOOSH, in an orgy of flames and smoke it was gone?  I would be absolutely crushed, perhaps unable to go on living. That's how much I enjoy a hot cup of mud.  And huge ta-tas.

Listen, people of Vassalboro, we've got to find the animal that did this and prosecute him or her as harshly as possible.  It's time to get some Old Testament-style justice for Donald Crabtree and the six other adults and babies that were sleeping inside when the building went up in flames. We've got to show this inhuman waste of flesh that you can't go around setting fire to sexy coffeehouses and get away with it.  This is America, dammit!  Let's git r done!

Wait?  Why were there people sleeping in the naked coffee shop again?

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Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Wednesday Morning Music: Eric Dodge - "When I Was Your Age"

Inspiring music from Eric and his brother. Eric Dodge is a Mormon. Read the rest of this article.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Tweet Tweet LOLz: The Unbearable Dumbness of Tweeting

As many of you have hopefully noticed, GEP has recently joined the twitterverse, but since we've started keeping up with tweets and whatnot, we've noticed something strange: Twitter has a way of making even relatively smart, sane people seem like complete dingbat douches. Here's a collection of our favorite tweets by smarties that leave us questioning their intellectual credentials:

From nerd God and theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking (physicsRphun): I just shat out the biggest turd, dudes. Its gravitational field is quite palpable. Totally tugging on my scrot hairs.

From commentator and all-around smarty pants Christopher Hitchens (godzdedsodeal17): Played tremendous jape on Dawkins. I Convinced him I adopted an undisclosed religious faith on completely subjective grounds, and I invited him to attend services with me. I think he was about to kill himself or something. This PROVES he's gay for me.

From science guy Bill Nye (cuddlebear911): Finally found an eco-friendly strip club! They only use makeup, implants, glitter that's not tested on animals, and the dance pole is hooked up to an electric generator! My dick is so hard, bra.

From computer genius Bill Gates (aids): Walker told me I have AIDS. JKLOLZ!!1

Influential film director David Lynch(trancendit!):
Finally perfected that floating stuff, yall. I can totes see down Jennifer Aniston's top. Her nips are sick.

From foodie and science geek Alton Brown (ABsnacks): Recipe for AB's perfect date: Find a girl with some fine-ass tits. Lick 'em till you spooge. Repeat until timer runs out. or big guy in the other room starts threatening to cut your balls off.

From God-knower and religious thinker Billy Graham (BG4JC): My faves illusion evar! God be praised for the mysterious properties of the human eye!

From brainy They Might Be Giants Rocker John Linnell (needakrane): Flansy totally tried to talk to me while I was peeing. Is that dude gay?

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