Number of Posts That Actually Reflected This Theme, Minus the Theme Announcement Post and The Silly One About Salad Toppings: 4
So...: Yeah, the theme was kind of a bust this month.
Amount of Weight Lost: The less said on this topic the better.
Latest Internet Meme Hopeful Created by Your Friends at GEP: Far Side Captions Beneath Pics of Crying Children (http://farsidecrying.tumblr.com/) Do us a favor and spread it around.
Number of Twitter Followers: 104 (Special thanks to @jenebowman and @gscobie for helping us out with that. And a normal thanks to everyone else who made it happen.)
Television Programs You Should be Watching: Archer, Eagleheart, Bob's Burgers
Class Act of the Month: Comedian/actor T.J. Miller, who let me into his show for free. I was already a big fan. Consider my fandom even biggerer.
Number of Episodes of Our New Podcast Recorded: 3
Number Available for You To Listen To: 0
Sorry Level: Slightly
Favorite Jeopardy Contestant of All-Time: Tom (AKA The Snarky Guy Who Looked Like Adam Carolla) (AKA Sneery McFrownybrows)
Number of Golden Girls Monday Marathons Until the Birth of My Daughter: 11
Next Month: A new theme, new features, and a podcast that may alienated a fair amount of you.
Part 3: Where the sidewalk ends, the creepy begins...
I walk roughly one-mile-and-a-half to and from my place of employment every single day. In the fall and winter months, when the air is crisp and one can feel the slightest nip at one's nose--as if Jack Frost himself is playfully chewing upon your face (perv!)--the walk can be quite pleasant. In the spring, it depends. In Summer, the walk is a grueling death march, a self-torture I endure because of a lifetime of "snack attacks." "You did this to yourself," I grumble to myself. "Don't go blaming that innocent red-haired girl and her daddy's delicious square hamburgers. They didn't force that food down your throat" But no matter the weather, I walk. And some days, I'm joined by what can only be describe as the dregs of humanity. These are their stories. Or, rather, my stories. But, actually, they are my recollections of the experiences we've shared on the long road to nowhere. Well, it's their long road to nowhere anyway. I was just trying to get to work (or my car) and these creeps got in my way or whatever. And recollections are stories, right? So these are some stories. Gah!
1. Matt and The Lady with Every Problem in the World Ever
Typically, I walk with headphones jammed in my ears, but on one particular day, not long ago, I was without musical accompaniment on my stroll back to the car. The walk proceeded without incident until I was but a mere block from my vehicle--I could see it in the near distance--when I saw her: a woman in her forties, confusedly shuffling around the bus stop. I initially made it past her--cue sigh of relief--but then an unexpectedly loud and commanding voice froze me in my place.
"Sir, may I speak with you real quick?" she asked with all the confidence of a keynote speaker at a Public Speaking Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
"As long as it's quick," I said, believing she was only going to ask for directions. She didn't look disheveled or mentally disturbed. She only look confused. Little did I know that this lady, who I will call "Fran," was currently experiencing EVERY PROBLEM IN THE WORLD EVER. Let's count them down, shall we?
1. She had just been released from police custody.
2. Her babies--of which she claimed to have four, though was accompanied by exactly none--had to sleep on the concrete. ("And you know babies can't sleep on the concrete," she informed me. As a dad-to-be, I appreciated this advice.)
3. She had diabetes.
4. She had only had a small bag of assorted Planter's nuts to eat all day. (She showed me the half-empty bag as proof.)
5. Her ID had been stolen by an individual who had also tried to murder her.
6. SOMEONE HAD TRIED TO MURDER HER!
7. She needed exactly twenty dollars. ("Or ten dollars if that's all you think you can do.")
"I don't carry cash," I told her--because I don't--and I turned to leave. "Fran" was not finished with me however.
"That's OK. There's a bank right up here. We can walk over there together and you can get the money out for me."
"I actually don't have any way of getting you any money out of any ATM," I told her--because I don't.
"Well, that's OK. When I was six-years-old I fell in love with Jesus and He's never let me down. You have a blessed day." And with that, she disappeared. I'm serious. It was, like, some leprechaun shit.
2. Matt and The Guy Who Hates His Ex-Wife and Lives in the Park
I met a man one morning--let's call him "Karl"--who needed directions to the court house. I could've easily just given him the directions and scurried away, but instead I said, "You're in luck: my office is right next door to the court house," and then gave him the directions, and tried to scurry away. He took my "right next door" comment as an invitation to become my walking buddy. As we walked--he matched my brisk, 'please-leave-me-alone-weirdo" pace--I got to know "Karl" more than I really needed to. First, I learned he was on his way to court because he might have beaten up his ex ("I didn't do nothing to that bitch!"). Next, he explained to me how much he hated the city of Raleigh. ("All this construction! Why can't I get a construction job? It's all who you know! It's not fair! I hate Raleigh!"). Lastly, we spoke of his current living arrangements. ("I live in a tent in Durham." I don't know how he got to Raleigh. Didn't want to know). I found a break in his weird, mumbly rant and explained that I needed to go a different route that day for, um, religious reasons, and left "Karl" to continue mumbling to himself.
3. Matt Narrowly Avoids a Shirtless Weirdo
Saw this guy today walking down the street shirtless carrying an armload of clothing. At first I thought he was wearing a wrinkled, peach-colored shirt, but, nope, he was just lumpy and shirtless. We did not get acquainted.
Let's face it: anyone who matters is a Netflix subscriber. The only acceptable excuses for not being one are 1) you don't own a television, 2) your chosen religion rejects entertainment in all of its unholy forms, 3) you're convinced that Netflix is the brainwashing tool of a corrupt government, or 4) you don't have a face. Everyone else: what are you waiting for? Sign up for Netflix already, you dummies!
Let me get something straight: I am not being paid by Netflix to write any of this--although I probably should be. I'm just a fan of film and television who is more than a little blown away (i.e. a lot blown away) by the amazing selection of movies and TV shows one can view instantly when one becomes a member of the Netflix family. Oh, you haven't heard? No more must you choose a DVD and spend 48 grueling hours waiting at your mailbox for it to arrive. Now, through the magic of instant viewing, you can watch whatever you want* RIGHT THEN AND THERE! Yes, Netflix "instant viewing," as it's widely know, makes watching your favorite movies and TV shows as easy as flipping a light switch, threading a needle, or taking a dump on an airplane.
There is a down side to instant viewing however. With so many choices, you may find it difficult to decide what to watch. Or, you may find a movie that seems worth watching, only to learn, sometimes mere minutes into it, that you've made a horrible error in judgement. That's why GEP is introducing the brand-new feature, This Week in Instant View. Every Sunday, we'll let you know what to check out and what to avoid, and we'll do it for FREE! And don't fret, non-Netflix users, This Week in Instant View is for you too. The movies and TV shows recommended are probably available at your local Blockbuster Video Store... BWAHAHAHAHA! Oh shit, I could hardly get through that. Just sign up for Netflix already! Sheesh! It's 2011!
(Movies and TV shows discussed were available for instant viewing as of this writing)
CHECK IT OUT!
Severance (2006): The sales staff of the European arm of Palisade, an international weapons development firm, trudges off into the dark forests of Hungary for a team building weekend. It isn't long, however, before a cadre of gun-toting psychopaths descend upon them, picking them off one after the other. And it's hilarious! No, really. Watch this:
Nothing like an accidentally airplane takedown to get me gigglin'.
AVOID IT!
Altered (2006): One-half of the team that brought you The Blair Witch Project is back with more bad acting and copious amounts of toilet language. Hey, I don't mind swearing--I do it myself from time to damn time--but it starts to sound as if you lack ideas when you fill up the gaps in your screenplay with "fucks" and "shits." I mean, these dudes have plenty to swear about. When they were teenagers, four rednecks whose names I don't remember and don't care enough to look up, were abducted by aliens ([NOT REALLY A] SPOILER ALERT: There were five, but one died. Aw.) and subjected to embarrassing and agonizing tests. Years later, three of the rednecks trek back out to the abduction site and nab themselves one of their extraterrestrial torturers. They transport the thing to the fourth redneck's house--which he has turned into a well-lit fortress full of various weapons and heavy duty tools--and, well, gory wackiness ensues. I am aware that on paper this sounds great, but it's not. Nothing makes any sense (Why are the aliens still hanging out on Earth in the same spot?), the characters are so stock and screamy that it's hard to work up any kind of emotion--good or bad--when they meet their inevitable demises, and, as I mentioned, all that swearing.
ALSO WORTH CHECKING OUT!
-The first season of FX's Archer.
-X-Files Season 1-Episode 11: "Eve" (A creepy self-contained episode about evil cloned little girls.)
-And, yes, the rumors are, in fact, true: all 8 seasons of The Cosby Show are available to view instantly on Netflix. You could literally have your own Peter-Thon if you wanted to.
You can't bottle up your negative emotions and expect to live a long healthy life free of heart attacks, strokes, and crippling depression. That's why, once a week, GEP Editor-in-Chief Matt Lawson, releases his rage valve and spends a few minutes screaming (i.e. typing in all caps) and yelling (i.e. making those all caps bold) about what's been pissing him off lately.
1. It's been one week since the tragic death of world-famous polar bear Knut, yet the mourning continues. And why shouldn't it? It's not like anything else is going on, right? SHEESH! IT WAS ONE POLAR BEAR, PEOPLE! I KNOW YOU VISITED HIM WHEN HE WAS A PRECIOUS LITTLE CUB, NEWT GINGRICH, AND, THEREFORE, HIS PASSING AS HIT YOU ALL THE HARDER, BUT WHAT ABOUT ALL THE POLAR BEARS WHO DON'T HAVE A CUSHY ZOO GIG? BECAUSE OF GLOBAL WARMING, POLAR BEARS ARE NOT ONLY LOSING THEIR NATURAL HABITAT AT AN ALARMING RATE, BUT BECAUSE OF FOOD SHORTAGES, MANY HAVE TURNED TO CANNIBALISM. CANNIBALISM!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? CUTE LITTLE PRECIOUS POLAR BEARS ARE FUCKING EATING EACH OTHER! THAT IS HORRIFYING!
Now, I'm not saying we should shove every polar bear we can get our grubby hands on into an animal prison...er, I mean, zoo (sorry), but we've gotta do something.
And PETA: SHUT UP! WHY DON'T YOU WAIT UNTIL ALL THE FACTS ARE IN BEFORE YOU START SPOUTING OFF ABOUT HOW CRUEL KNUT WAS TREATED AT THE BERLIN ZOO AND HOW BEING HOUSED WITH THREE BITCHY LADY POLAR BEARS WAS GETTIN' HIM DOWN. WRONG!!! KNUT HAD A BRAIN PROBLEM. THAT'S ALL. HE HAD AN EPILEPTIC SEIZURE AND HE DROWNED. STILL SAD, BUT NOT CRUEL, UNLESS YOU BELIEVE THAT GOD OR SOMETHING GAVE KNUT EPILEPSY AS SOME SORT OF CRUEL JOKE. THAN GOD'S THE CRUEL ONE, NOT THE FINE PEOPLE AT THE BERLIN ZOO. UGH.
2. So, some woman at work left a note in my mailbox this week, a note with a question, a question that she ended with THREE QUESTION MARKS! THREE QUESTION MARKS? REALLY? COULD YOU HAVE BE MORE PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE ABOUT SOMETHING THAT LITERALLY TOOK ME A MINUTE TO FIX??? (After taking care of the "problem," I wrote the following response to her question and put it in her mailbox: "Simple mistake!!!" True story.)
3. Apparently, Lindsay Lohan has decided to drop the "Lohan" from her name and from this moment on be known simply as "Lindsay." I guess she's trying to separate herself from her lunatic father or her criminal past or something. WHAT, LINDSAY, YOU SAW ALL THE COVERAGE JAPAN WAS GETTING AND YOU GOT JEALOUS? "WHAT CAN I DO TO GET BACK IN THE NEWS? I KNOW, I'LL DROP MY LAST NAME AND GET MY MOM TO COMPARE ME TO OPRAH AND BEYONCE IN THE NATIONAL MEDIA." SERIOUSLY, NO ONE CARES. AND ALSO, WHY IS THIS NEWS ANYWAY? JAPAN IS DESTROYED, WE'RE BOMBING THE BALLS OUT OF LIBYA, AND A FAMOUS POLAR BEAR DIED, AND I'VE GOT TO READ ABOUT LINDSAY LOHAN'S LATEST DUMB STUNT TO SALVAGE HER DUMB FLAILING CAREER? SHUT UP! (I'm not really that enraged over this, I just wanted an excuse to post a picture of Lindsay in that white dress. Hot, right?)
4. Did you see the latest Bigfoot video? Here it is for your viewing "enjoyment."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS IS THE SINGLE DUMBEST THING I'VE SEEN SINCE THE LAST "REAL" BIGFOOT VIDEO I WATCHED, WHICH WAS THIS ONE INCIDENTALLY:
Worst part about the latest Bigfoot video: THE GUY IS FROM MY HOME STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA. I HOPE THE GORILLA SUIT YOU RENTED DIDN'T GET STAINED OR TORE UP WHEN YOUR BUDDY LUMBERED OFF INTO THE WOODS. THERE'S PROBABLY A PRETTY HEFTY FEE TO GET THAT DRY-CLEANED. AND NICE OMINOUS GROWL. UGH.
5. Remember when Victoria Jackson was funny? Me neither. Victoria Jackson has come a long way from her days on SNL. Not only is she an actress and "comedian," she is also a "uke player, wife, mother, ex-gymnast, Jesus-follower and new grandmother." Wow, she's got a lot on her plate. Of course, that didn't stop her from banging out a racially insensitive, homophobic screed last Friday on WorldNetDaily. The article, titled "The Muslims Next Door," somehow moves from talking about the new magazine for Muslim women to bitching about the "victory mosque" at Ground Zero to the same-sex kiss on a recent episode of Glee. Here are some excerpts along with my commentary (my words are the bolded-n-capitalized ones):
Why do liberals embrace Shariah law even though "beheading your wife" seems to go against the feminist movement's mantra?
DO THEY? I'M AS LIBERAL AS THEY COME AND I'VE NEVER THOUGHT "IT'S A GOOD THING PEOPLE IN CERTAIN CULTURES THINK IT'S OKAY TO BEHEAD THEIR WIVES. TAKES ALL KINDS TO MAKE THE WORLD GO 'ROUND." NEVER!!! THAT'S SICK! IDIOT!
I try to stay away from violence, and I wouldn't even be thinking about Islam except that they keep jumping in front of my face. No one talked about Islam when I grew up. How did they all suddenly appear in America?
I THINK MUSLIM PEOPLE HAVE RESIDED IN AMERICA FOR QUITE AWHILE, VICKY.
IF YOU'RE THE NEXT MUSLIM TO JUMP IN FRONT OF VICTORIA JACKSON'S FACE, DO US ALL A FAVOR AND TELL HER TO KISS MY ASS!
And speaking of Baptists … why can't the "good, peaceful Muslims" denounce the actions of the "bad, violent" Muslims? I'm Baptist, and I denounce the actions of the Westboro Baptist Church. They are not living the way Jesus taught – but the opposite. Maybe, just maybe the "good" Muslims approve of what the "bad" Muslims are doing! Maybe they are celebrating it, funding it and cheering them on.
GOOD, PEACEFUL MUSLIMS DENOUNCE THE ACTIONS OF THE ANGRY ISLAMIC TERRORISTS ALL THE TIME. TURN THE TV ON ONCE IN AWHILE, YOU DUMB BUNNY!
AND GOOD FOR YOU FOR BEING ANTI-WESTBORO BAPTIST CHURCH. HERE'S A NEWS FLASH, DIMBULB: EVERYONE'S ANTI-WESTBORO BAPTIST CHURCH! THE WESTBORO BAPTIST CHURCH IS A HATE-FILLED ORGANIZATION FULL OF DELUSIONAL IMBECILES WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN MAKE STUPID SIGNS AND MARCH AROUND LIKE IDIOTS. NOBODY CARES ABOUT THESE PEOPLE. SORRY, VICS. NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
The Muslims want to tear down the Statue of Liberty! It's an "idol."
WHY DO PEOPLE GET SO UP IN ARMS ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL NEVER, EVER HAPPEN. EVERY MUSLIM IN AMERICA COULD SIGN A PETITION DEMANDING THAT THE US GOVERNMENT DISMANTLE THE STATUE OF LIBERTY, MELT IT DOWN, AND TURN IT INTO MATCHBOX CARS AND IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. GET PISSED OFF ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE, LIKE THAT FAKE BIGFOOT VIDEO OR SOMETHING.
This new al-Qaida magazine for women has beauty tips and suicide-bomber tips! Gimme a break! That is as ridiculous as two men kissing on the mouth! And I don't care what is politically correct. Everyone knows that two men on a wedding cake is a comedy skit, not an "alternate lifestyle"! There I said it! Ridiculous!
Did you see "Glee" this week? Sickening! And, besides shoving the gay thing down our throats, they made a mockery of Christians – again! I wonder what their agenda is? Hey, producers of "Glee" – what's your agenda? One-way tolerance?
THEY MADE A MOCKERY OF CHRISTIANS? DURING WHICH SCENE EXACTLY? I THINK YOU MIGHT BE REFERRING TO ORAL INTENSITY'S PERFORMANCE OF SONSEED'S "JESUS IS MY FRIEND" WHICH WAS A HILARIOUS INTERNET PHENOMENON A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO AND USED BY GLEE'S RESIDENT VILLAIN, SUE SYLVESTER, AS A PLOY TO GET THE BORN AGAIN CHRISTIAN JUDGE TO VOTE FOR ORAL INTENSITY TO ADVANCE TO NATIONALS. IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN, VICTORIA? HOW WAS THAT A MOCKERY OF CHRISTIANS? DID YOU MEAN GAY KISSING? IS GAY KISSING A MOCKERY OF CHRISTIANITY? WHY IS THE IMAGE OF TWO YOUNG MEN KISSING SO FRIGHTENING TO SOME CHRISTIANS? GAHACHKAHAHHHHHH!
I'M GETTING A RAGE HEADACHE. I BETTER TAKE A BREAK. EFF YOU, VICTORIA JACKSON! SEE YOU NEXT WEEKEND, JERKS!
Chances are you've already seen it--it's been everywhere today!--but for those of you who wait to watch movie trailers on little-read pop culture Web sites, here it is: the Captain American teaser trailer.
Wanna see it with me? Let's plan to get dinner beforehand. What are you feeling? Pizza? Sushi? We can talk about it. I'm so excited!
You may recall that a couple of Sundays ago we told you about the Kate Middleton doll (Didja order yours yet? Huh? Didja? Didja?). This opened an entire--dare I say it--Pandora's box of horrifying doll discoveries. Our very own List Lady found what may be the most disturbing new trend in collectible porcelain horrors: baby versions of popular celebrities. Warning, these dolls are for super fans only, because how can you truly call yourself a fan of somebody unless you have an infant version of him or her imprisoned in the curio cabinet in your dining room or lining the walls of your guest room--the guest room your grandkids sleep in when they spend the weekend?
1. Marie Osmond (singer/failed talk show co-host/Mormon)
2. Margaret Cho (gay-friendly stand-up comedian/sitcom semi-star)
3. Joan Rivers (pioneering lady comic/reality TV star/reanimated skeleton)
4. Bret Michaels (rock-n-roll front man/reality TV star/bald guy)
5. Peter Criss (drummer/the guy in KISS who got last choice when picking a stage persona)
6. Louie Anderson (comedian/writer/voice actor/clumsy buffet patron/possible sex pervert)
It has been a harrowing week and I am filled to the brim with rage. So, I thought I'd take a moment to tap into my inner Red Forman and cram my foot deep in the ass of everything that's successfully pissed me off over the last five days. I tend to keep a lot in, squeeze my negative emotions into a tiny, fiery ball and then hide that ball somewhere in my guts. It's probably the reason I've suffered so many stomach ulcers in my life. I'm hoping this new feature--oh, yeah, releasing the ol' rage valve is going to be a regular feature of the blog now--will not only entertain and educate GEP's loyal readers, but keep me from an early grave.
1. If your first reaction to the tragedy in Japan this week was to take to your Facebook page or your Twitter feed and quote scripture about earthquakes being a harbinger of Jesus' return and not, "What can I do to help," you are a horrible, horrible person. Mere minutes after I learned of the devastation in Japan I saw this posted on Facebook:
10 Then he said to them: “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. 11 There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven. (Luke 21:10-11)
Are you kidding me? Whatever happened to old Christian mantra "I'll be praying for you?" Sure, the sentiment, while nice in its way, means next to nothing, but it's better than seemingly rejoicing in the destruction of almost an entire country because you have some misguided notion that it means you'll soon be flying around in heaven hocking loogies on all us sinners below. You know what you are if you saw the footage of boats lying atop the roofs of abandoned houses, driver-less cars floating in fetid floodwaters, and elderly Japanese women being pulled out of rubble? A MINDLESS AUTOMATON, A SLAVE TO IRRATIONAL HOKUM, A RELIGIOUS ZOMBIE SO FAR UP YOUR CHOSEN FAITH'S BUNGHOLE YOU CAN NO LONGER SEE WHAT REALLY MATTERS: HUMAN COMPASSION, LOVE FOR ONE'S NEIGHBOR, AND BASIC RESPECT FOR YOUR FELLOW MAN. BUT NO, YOU'D RATHER QUOTE SCRIPTURE AND MARK ANOTHER DAY OFF YOUR RAPTURE CALENDAR. ENJOY YOUR DISASTER PORN, YOU DEATH-LOVING LUNATICS!
(Seriously, if you'd like to donate a few bucks to relief efforts in Japan, you can visit redcross.org OR head over to iTunes and make a donation there--it's super easy! There's a whole texting thing too, but I don't text, so, you know...)
2. Have you seen this commercial where three kids are waiting to be picked up after soccer practice? I think it's for some kind of insurance. Anyway, the mom of two of the kids waiting pulls up in her SUV and calls out the window, "C'mon, guys, your dad is waiting at the airport." Her little brats come a-running, but the mother's gaze lingers on the lone boy on the bleachers. "You got a ride, Danny?" she calls to the neglected red-head. "Yeah," he responds, throwing a wave to his teammates. So the mom starts driving away with this look of deep concern on her face. Cut to: the lonely forgotten boy sitting alone in the dark and then, out of the shadows, the mom and his teammates reappear, deciding to wait with him until his parents show up. Aw, it's cute, right? Just one question: WHAT ABOUT DAD? ISN'T HE WAITING AT THE AIRPORT? DID YOU GUYS CALL DAD, LET HIM KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON OR DID YOU JUST GO, 'DAD'S A BIG BOY, HE CAN WAIT A LITTLE LONGER?" YEAH, BECAUSE PEOPLE LOVE MILLING AROUND AN AIRPORT TERMINAL.
Also, WHERE IS THE COACH? WHAT KIND OF COACH JUST LEAVES A BUNCH OF KIDS TO FEND FOR THEMSELVES AFTER PRACTICE? I THINK THE PARENTS NEED TO HAVE A MEETING ABOUT THIS SICKO THEY LET HANG AROUND THEIR KIDS AN HOUR A WEEK.
3. Kacey Jordan (seen here giving 'porn mouth') tried to kill herself this week. Not familiar with Kacey? That's what she's afraid of, hence, the disturbing tweets:
i took a bunch of pills…drank a hotel size bottle of jack… stumbled to the bathroom to weigh myself………86 lbs.
Jordan was one of Charlie Sheen's girlfriends, in fact, she was the one with him when he experienced that full-on coke freak-out in January. She also famous for performing sex acts on film, having a puffy vagina (her nickname is K-Puff, after all), and having had four abortions over the course of her 22 years of life. So, yeah, she's a class act. While Charlie's rocket ride to insanity still provides the occasional chuckle, coupled with head shake and the utterance, "Oh, Charlie," Jordan's kinda been left in the dust (or is that cocaine residue?). So, attempted suicide.
But then, people started to forget about her again. "A porn star tried to commit suicide? Yawwwwn!" So what did K-Puff do? She called up E! News and explained that she wasn't trying to commit suicide. Like, gah, you guys, for sure.
"It was not as bad as the first report said...The cops were called because I was a disturbance in the hotel and I was mad when they got there," she says. "I chugged a glass of Jack and Coke in front of them and threw the glass on the ground before telling them to take me."
SHUT UP! NO ONE CARES!
4. To the piece of human garbage who honked his horn at me yesterday when I was walking to my car: I'M A PEDESTRIAN!!! I'VE GOT THE RIGHT-OF-WAY, YOU CREEP!!! I KNOW YOU WERE IN A RUSH, BUT NOT TO WORRY: I THINK THE METHADONE CLINIC IS OPEN LATE ON FRIDAYS.
5. Speaking of Fridays, I assume you've all seen this by now:
I know what you're expecting, but I also know that you know me well enough to know that I rarely do what one expects. I don't have a beef with Rebecca Black. She seems like a nice enough 13-year-old girl. It's a bad song. Bad songs happen. Sometimes they happen to good people. Sometimes they happen to a lot of differentteenagegirls whose parents pay a soulless, money-hungry group of opportunists to record and auto-tune their marginally talented daughter's voice and make her feel like a pop-star for a day. There's nothing wrong with that. I mean, there is, but that's not the issue right now.
Here's the problem: she's 13-years-old. LAY OFF HER, TROLLS! Really, what purpose does it serve to plaster a child's YouTube page with vicious insults, some of which were discussed when Black appeared on GMA yesterday:
She's a little girl, man, c'mon! She doesn't even seem like a horrible little girl, like one of those bitches from, well, any show currently running on Mtv. Who would you rather spend a Friday night "parytin' partyin YEAH" with: Rebecca Black or Deena of Jersey Shore? Black or Teen Mom 2's Jenelle?
To the joyless dick who wrote, "I hope you cut yourself and I hope you get an eating disorder so you'll look pretty and I hope you go cut and die," I say this: First, nice sentence, brainiac. And second, YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WHO LETS YOU LIVE IN HER BASEMENT RENT FREE AND HEATS UP YOUR SMART-ONES FOR YOU WITH THAT MOUTH?! SHE'S A CHILD AND YOU'RE A CREEP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WATCHING THE 'FRIDAY' VIDEO FOR, YOU WEIRDO? Actually, what am I doing watching it? I've watched, like, seven times since yesterday. It's so damn catchy!
I do have one issue with the video however: WHO GAVE THAT 11-YEAR-OLD BOY A DRIVER'S LICENSE?!?
The Olsen Twins and their weird friends (I'm looking at you, Little Girl in Purple.) ruin a pizza.
(1:08-1:09: That cannot be that girl's real voice. Good Lord.)
I wonder which "pizza store" is Uncle Moishy's favorite "pizza store?" Also, why is Uncle Moishy so damn clumsy? Get it together, Moishy. Oy yah yah yah yah yah yah yah yah yah yah oy vey, indeed.
Either utterly horrifying or totally cute. I can't decide.
Enough already with the girly dance-dance--it's time for something a little more man-sized. You know what that means: the sweet science...the old punchy punchy bleed bleed...float like a butterfly, sting like some kind of stinging insect, like, maybe a wasp or something...
I'm talking about boxing! Is there anything more mantastic? I watch two dopey sweat-glazed mooks throwing haymakers at each other in a filthy ring while onlookers scream for bloody satisfaction and I get a soul-boner. Yeah, I said it, a soul boner. It's not the kind of boner people can see poking out of your gym shorts. It's more spiritual than that, though who am I to say you can't experience spiritual fulfillment chub-popping at your local gymnasium. You keep doing that if that's you're thing, baby.
Forget all that spirity hokum though: tonight I was rarin' to do it up Tyson-style! In fact, I was excited all day long--no foolin'--knowing that when I got home this evening I was going to start my journey on the path to better living through pretend beating the shit out of dudes.
So, sure, I was a little disappointed when I was reminded that the video's title was actually 10 Minute Solution: Kickbox Bootcamp and not 10 Minutes Til You're Beating Fools Up, Son! But what did it matter really? Kickboxing is just boxing with an kick added here and there, right?
Then I met my trainer: Keli Roberts.
Now, I don't have an issue with Ms. Roberts because she is a woman--and an Australian one at that--I just don't trust people who spell "Kelly" with one "l" and an "i." That might work in Australia, mate, but last time I looked I don't see any jackaroos or whatever it is you people toss on the barbie next to all that shrimp. This is America. And in America, we give our "Kellys" two "l's."
So, OK, I'm doing kickboxing with Keli. It didn't take me long to shift into kickboxing mode. Admittedly, it isn't much different than boxing mode. Next, I have to sit through an introduction to the video that basically lays out the five, 10-minute sections I will have to conquer to become an amateur kickboxing champion probably. These sections are:
-Basic Training (Obvs.)
-Ultimate Buns and Thighs ('kay. Not entirely sure how that relates to kicking dudes in the face, but all right.)
-Arm and Shoulder Sculptor (Maybe.)
-Washboard Abs (Yes, please.)
-Fat-Burning Blast
"This'll be a breeze," I thought.
"MAKE IT STOP OH GOD I'M DYING PLEASE DON'T LET ME DIE SWEET JESUS PLEASE," I was thinking five minutes into "Basic Training."
That being said, 10 Minute Solution: Kickboxing Bootcamp is super awesome. I got a great cardiac workout and Keli, despite her one "l," is an excellent trainer/coach. I'm not going to lie, the first time out was a bit on the painful side, but, hey, I'm new to this, OK! The fact is, I did the kicks and punches, I kept up with Keli, and I didn't stop moving until the 10 minutes were up. And as I write this, I feel amazing.
My goals: Do the 10-minute "Basic Training" portion of the video every day after work; speak with my wife about pursuing ultimate buns--I already have a pretty great butt, but making them "ultimate" may cause problems in our relationship; consider having pre-fab washboard abs simply inserted under the skin.
Yes, here it is, once again, for your viewing pleasure: the trailer for the upcoming Smurfs movie. You're welcome.
Now for the uninitiated, the smurfs, as a people, are fond of substituting the word "smurf" for other words that would actually help a particular sentence make actual sense. For instance, a smurf who has just been playfully frightened by another smurf, say, for instance, Jokey Smurf has just presented Papa Smurf with one of his patented exploding presents, and Papa is standing there all charred and smoking and he says, "Yikes! I just smurf'd in my pants." I think it is fairly obvious that in this instance Papa Smurf has used the inoffensive term "smurf" as a substitute for the far cruder "poop," "shit," or "crap balls." You see how that works? I know, I know: it isn't funny, but that's not what we're here to discuss. What we are here to do is translate the Smurfs trailer for you. Just use our handy guide below to decipher what's being said and when. I hope you enjoy it. And, if you don't, you can go smurf yourself, you smurfhole.
--1:08: "I think I just smurf'd in my mouth (Translation: "I think I just threw up in my mouth."
--1:14: "Where the smurf are we?" (Translation: "Where the hell are we?")
See the film the Rhode Island Film Festival (!!!) gave 4-stars and called "A powerful emotional story with a twist of humor." Am I dick for laughing at this trailer? At the end when the kid, I assume, offers to put his grandfather down and Ernest Borgnine responds with a dramatic chorus of "no," I can't stop myself from chuckling. Then Raymond's mom pops up and sadly intones, "You silly old fool," and I lose it. Maybe the funniest movie of '11.
2. Bonnie & Clyde vs Dracula
Do you even need to see the trailer to know this is going to be awful? Probably not, but we've provided it anyway. I wonder why this part of the Bonnie and Clyde story was left out of the Arthur Penn classic.
3. Smurfs
Remember the Smurfs? Well, whether you do or do not doesn't seem to matter because the filmmakers behind the Smurfs movie have thrown it all out the window and plopped the little blue pixies in modern day New York City. Who is this movie for anyway? Do kids today even know what Smurfs are? There isn't any kind of Smurfs presence on TV right now, is there? I think NPH says it best in this awful, awful trailer: "Do not be fooled by their cuteness." Mark my words: this movie is going to be terrible. Maybe the worst thing ever, and, yes, I am aware that there are two Alvin and the Chipmunks movies and a third installment of Transformers is set for this summer. I'm serious, if you honestly want to see this film, I think I need to take a long hard look at our friendship and decide if it is worth pursuing.Read the rest of this article.
Rev Grant Storms deserves our collective disdain for so many reasons--he's viciously anti-gay, he's opposed to sexual intercourse being performed in the middle of public streets, he clips his sunglasses to the collar of his t-shirt like a douchebag, etc.--but today I want to focus on his allegedly brand spanking new (no pun intended) discovery of pornography. For those of you who don't know, Pastor Storms was recently caught masturbating in a public park in New Orleans a short distance from where children were playing. Storms, known for his yearly protests of something called the Southern Decadence Festival and homosexuality in general, has admitted to having his pants unzipped and one hand firmly tucked inside said pants, but he claims he was not jerking it. He's a homophobe, after all, not a pedophile. He recently held a press conference at which he outed himself as a hypocrite and claimed that he felt awful about all those past Souther Decadence Festival protests. That's all fine and good, but I was a bit confused about another one of his startling revelations:
Storms said he is seeking help for a problem with pornography, which he called a recent issue. Storms said he had viewed pornography Friday about an hour before his arrest in the park.
Wait. For someone who claims he wasn't jacking off in his van in the middle of the afternoon within the view of children, he sure is quick to bring up pornography. What, did thinking about some pornography he'd been perusing a mere hour earlier inspire him to park in front of a playground and air out his balls for awhile? If he was just taking a piss in a Coke bottle, why is he revealing his pornography addiction to the world? Storms, you were whacking it. C'mon! That God-breathed scripture you claim instructs all of God's followers to persecute gays and lesbians also tells ya not to lie, if I'm remembering my Sunday schooling accurately.
Also: YOU'RE USING PORNOGRAPHY WRONG. You don't watch an internet porn clip, ruminate on it for awhile, drive to Quizno's and enjoy an oven-toasted sub sandwich, stop by the post office to mail some letters--still ruminating, mind you--park your car in front of a playground full of toddlers, and start vigorously abusing yourself. You watch the porn clip AND YOU JERK OFF! RIGHT THERE! Who watches Riley Mason or Ashley Blue or Kelly Wells (I'm making these names up obviously...) blow a roomful of masked men with clean-shaven balls and then goes about his day unsure of when and where the urge to masturbate will strike him? Maybe that's what Storms means when he says he has a "problem with pornography." He never learned that pornography is just for rubbing one out. Pornography isn't legitimate entertainment. It isn't an acceptable way to spend a relaxing weekend at home. You watch porno when your wife is out of the house running errands. And you watch it quick because who knows when she's gonna come bursting through that door, calling you to unload the groceries.
And why are the deeply religious always the ones with the pornography problem? Why do they seem to be ones who get nabbed for public indecency or sex with male prostitutes? It might be because the media loves to expose pompously outspoken religious leaders for the hypocritical assholes that they are--I know I do--or, maybe, they're the only one's doing it. Maybe they possess such a skewed vision of sex and pornography because all they've ever heard and, in turn, peddled to people hungry for answers from a god they can't fully understand themselves is "lust is bad, lust will lead to elicit sex, and elicit sex will send you straight to Hell." To them, sex is pretty much the worst thing ever and when they see a picture of a naked lady or a stag film for the first time, they kind of go, "wait a minute...these are naked people...doing it?" and lose their minds.
Whatever it is, Grant Storms is a scumbag, but at least he realizes it. Maybe next time you'll wait to whack off when you get home, Pastor Grant.
Part 1: I was fine until the cat started watching...
Weight: 242 (Damn you, CiCi's pizza buffet!) (Oh, I can't stay mad at you, CiCi's pizza buffet. Let's never fight again)
In an attempt to increase the amount of physical activity I get during the week, I've decided to step out of my comfort zone and try things I've never tried/purposefully avoided before. So, this morning I sprang out of bed around 7:45 with a smile on my face and a plan in my brain. The plan: I'm gonna dance off these inches. The method: Dance Off the Inches: Fat Burning Jam with Michelle Dozois.
You may be overjoyed to learn--or possibly not--that Netflix offers a limited selection of on- demand work out videos for subscribers to enjoy, most of them being some variation on dance aerobics. I add a few to my Instant Queue yesterday in preparation. Fat Burning Jam was the obvious choice for my first dance aerobics video experience. I mean, c'mon, a jam? I love jams! Jams are totally fun. And this was a jam that burned fat. What more could you ask for? Read this description and tell me you don't instantly pop a work out boner:
Ten moves are all you need to master to start dancing your way into shape with this fat-burning funk fest from former national and world aerobics champion Michelle Dozois. With Dozois and friends leading the way, you'll learn three dance routines that you can infuse with your own personal style. Get energized for all the fanny-shaking flab busting you need to lose inches and pounds on the dance floor.
Funk fest? Fanny-shaking flab busting? Who am I to resist such promises? I'm not made of granite!
I am though mostly comprised of the aforementioned flab, so the idea of busting said flab with help from an aerobics champion and ten easy dance moves appealed to me greatly. And, hey, I like to dance. I don't do it well, but I like to do it.
The work out itself is only 36 minutes, but, man, does Dozois fill it to the brim with dance moves. And she doesn't take her time either. Dozois presents a move, she and her yoga-panted friends show you how to do it, and then you better keep up, because, seriously, they are going to leave you in the dust. I can say that I did, in fact, keep moving for 36 straight minutes, but I'm not going to lie and say I perfected each dance move. I mastered the "party march," "kick-ball-step" and the "side-to-side lunge," but I could never quite get the hang of the "box step w/ jazz hands" and I stopped trying after they added a spin.
This isn't to say Dozois is a bad teacher. I blame myself. I hate to lean on old timey sexism, but I'm a man, and a straight one at that. I can't swivel my hips. It's not because I don't want to. I physically cannot. I would love to possess the ability to move fluidly, sexily across a dance floor, like some kind of panty-moistening Latin lover you (not me!) read about in trashy romance novels or see dragging "celebrities" around on TV. I just can't! I've tried. I've never been able to dance. Scratch that: I can dance, in as far as I can jerk my body around semi-rhythmically to a handful of songs, but I can't, like, do any real dances like those aforementioned "celebrities" can. I can't even do something as simple as the box stop Dozois so eagerly and expertly demonstrated.
I couldn't keep up and I am incapable of performing even a single convincing hip swivel, but I sweated a lot and my legs are killing me, so I guess I did something right. Michelle Dozois and her MILFy pals got me started on a road to healthy living and for that I salute them and their yoga pants.
(In the spirit of honesty I should reveal that I did have to take a break from the fat burning jam to shoo my cat, as halfway through my work out he decided stretching out on the floor in front of the TV was a good idea. Lazy cuss.)
I know what you're thinking: "What's up with Matt? He dubs March 'Healthy Electric Penguin' month and the first thing he posts is a list of fast food he wants to eat. Then there's that stupid post about salad toppings--who in the world would put Fiddle Faddle on a salad? Dumb.--followed by the video of those two, weird Greek chicks dancing. What's so "healthy" about all that mess?"
I get it. I said at the beginning of the month we were all gonna get healhty together and I meant it. So, let's do it, people! You didn't really have to wait for me, but if you did, put your sweat bands on and dig your leotard out from the back of the closet, 'cause it's time to get physical.
To be perfectly honest with you, while my journey to a healthier life started earlier this year, the idea to turn my life around and drop some of this damn weight started last year, specifically when I learned I was going to be a father. When my wife showed me the pregnancy test, I was at my highest weight ever (I'm not comfortable sharing the number here, but I will say that it rhymes with "blue-bundred and nifty"). I decided right then and there that if I wanted to see my daughter grow up (first day of kindergarten, the prom, college graduation, wedding/commitment ceremony,etc), I was going to have to get my act together. My goal: 10 pounds a month until Quinn's birth, which would put me, if I started in February, which is exactly when I did start, at my goal weight of 200. All I had to figure out now was how to do it.
I have twice been a member of Weight Watchers. The first time, I faithfully worked the program, dutifully entered my points into the Weight Watchers database, and miraculously dropped 35 pounds in a matter of months. I was elated. I could bound up the stairs, make love to my wife, and run from Johnny Law (don't ask) without losing the ability to breathe on my own. It was glorious. I was a happy, thinner man. Then I made the biggest mistake of my life: I dropped out. I boldly explained to my wife that I had "rewired" myself--a phrase she still throws back in my face to this day, and rightfully so. "I don't need the Weight Watcher overlords to tell me what to do. They trained me well and I am ready to go it alone." I did OK for awhile, but then my wife got pregnant, the cravings started, and to make her feel less alone, I stopped caring about what I was shoving in my food-hole, and promptly destroyed all my hard work. If you think about it, this is all my wife's fault really. (J/K LOLZ)
The second time I joined it was for, like, two weeks and I simply forgot to enter my points into the grid in a timely fashion and, in failing to do so, learned that I didn't actually care. And so, you know, blue-bundred and nifty. Sigh.
So, what am I doing now? Well, I'm sort of working the WW program without working the program. I'm putting myself in the mindset that at the end of each day I have to enter my "points" into "the system," when in reality I am simply keeping a detailed log, or food journal, of what I eat and drink every day. I also keep track of my activities.
It's working. Kinda. I didn't quite meet my first goal. I lost 9 pounds in February, rather than the desired 10, but I haven't let it get me down. This month I'm focusing on adding more activities. I walk to work every day (1.3 miles there and back) and every Sunday the wife and I take a brisk 45-minute walk around a local lake. But I want to add more to the repertoire and I plan to document these activities in a new feature I'm calling SMACKING FAT IN ITS FAT FACE W/ MATT. You can expect the first one this Saturday.
So, that's where I am. This month--and maybe beyond, I haven't decided yet--I will use all of you as my accountability partners. Feel free to use me too, if you want. Together we'll keep each other honest. I'll keep you updated on my weight loss--as horrifyingly embarrassing for me as that is--as well as activities and foods I've discovered that have made the whole "getting healthy" thing not so bad. Let's do this!
Salads! When you've decided to eat healthy, there is no easier meal choice than the salad. Of course, unhealthy salad toppings can turn even the healthiest salads into a caloric nightmare. We hope this list will come in handy when you eat your next salad. You're welcome.
1. shredded cheese 2. bacon bits 3. croutons 4. creamy dressings 5. Hershey's chocolate syrup 6. fried onion petals 7. Fiddle Faddle 8. Circus Peanuts 9. Fun Dip 10. deep-fried apple slices 11. Arby's Horsey Sauce 12. high fructose corn syrup 13. maple syrup 14. meatloaf 15. Pringles (specifically from the "eXtreme flavor" collection) 16. iceberg lettuce (tempura fried) 17. crystal meth 18. Gummi Bears 19. candy corn 20. candied whale blubber (not only unhealthy, but illegal in the US) 21. your grandpa's ashes 22. cauliflower (high in "yuck") 23. hot dog water 24. salted herring 25. soft-serve swirl ice cream 26. hobo piss 27. plant fertilizer 28. McCormick-brand Salad Toppins 29. McCarmack-brand Salad Sloppins 30. peanut brittle 31. country-fried ham chunks 33. brown gravy 34. man gravy 35. Advil Extra Strength 36. a whole pumpkin 37. a witch's tears 38. edible panties 39. MacCormook-brand Muppet Shavins 40. mac-n-cheese 41. double-fried pineapple-shards 42. panko-breaded mini chocolate chip muffins 43. melted butter 44. fish AIDS 45. Swedish Fish 46. carrot shits 47. Magic Shell 48. sawdust 49. salt chunks 48. gerbil farts 49. deep-fried crack rocks 50. grease-soaked kelp 51. sesame seeds
I don't know if you've heard, but there's a royal wedding on the horizon! And what does that mean for Americans? SHITTY OVERPRICED DOLLS FROM THE DANBURY MINT! HOORAY!
Say hello (or 'cheerio' if you are so inclined) to the Princess Kate Bride Doll. True, this isn't an actual picture of the doll per se, I mean, we still don't know what Kate Middleton's dress is going to look like (odds are it will be FABULOUS!!!), but the Danbury Mint had to get something out there, you know, before the other mints (?), so here you go. According to the ad in this week's PARADE Magazine (Oh, yeah, we're gunning for you again, PARADE! Two Sundays in a row, son!) the doll version of Ms. Middleton, charmingly described as "the enchanting commoner who captured the heart of a Prince," has been specifically created to celebrate the "Wedding of the Century." Really, Danbury Mint? The whole century? You're telling me that if Jesus himself descends from Heaven and weds one of the Bush Twins (Barbara is still available by my count), the royal wedding between Kate and Prince What's-His-Face remains tops for the century? You didn't even consider the possibility of a Jesus-Barbara Bush marriage did you, DM?
Tell us more about this "museum-quality collectible," Danbury Mint. We're waiting.
What will she wear? That's the question everyone is asking, but no one has been able to uncover this closely guarded royal secret.
No one has been able to crack the wedding dress code, but I'm glad we have people on it. Makes you feel a little bit safer, don't it?
For the first time in 30 years, since Diana married Charles, we will all be treated to the grandest of events...a Royal Wedding!
Events I Would Consider Much Grander Than a Royal Wedding: this year's Super Bowl; The San Diego Comic Con; the Pixies show I saw five years ago; the Bemis Elementary School roller skating party at which I skated with Kelly Luce the entire time; The People's Choice Awards; an NKOTB record release party; the season premiere of Hoarders; the aforementioned fictional wedding between Jesus Christ and Barbara Bush.
In what is sure to be the "Wedding of the Century" (ugh), lovely Princess Kate, the first commoner to join the royal family in over 350 years, will exchange vows with dashing Prince William at historic Westminster Abbey on April 29.
I like that the ad wizards behind this copy like to keep hammering it into our heads that Middleton is a lowly commoner. It's kind of like they're saying, "This could happen to you too one day, you lowly plebian scumbucket, but while you're waiting for Prince Charming to ride up on his trusty steed and pull you out of your boring life of mediocrity, why not buy a porcelain doll of some chick in a wedding dress."
While the details of her bridal gown remain a royal secret, it is certain to create a worldwide sensation...and our gifted designers will capture every detail to perfection! Once the special day arrives, our seamstresses will create an unmatched representation of the lovely bride and the grand gown she will actually wear on that day.
"But, what if I can't wait that long for a Kate Middleton doll? What if I want my Kate Middleton doll RIGHT NOW!?!" Not to worry, one Web site is offering a Kate Middleton Prize Pack. Lookit all this swag you can get:
Aw, man, that doll ain't big enough to make sweet, sloppy love to. What gives?
(You can pre-order your Princess Kate Bride Doll here. Heck, it's only gonna cost you 159-bucks. What are you waiting for?)
(You can find the Kate Middleton Prize Pack [my name for it], as well as all manner of creepy porcelain monstrosities, right here.)
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And it just wouldn't be Sunday without a visit to our friends at The Family Circus:
WHY ARE THEY PAINTING THE FLOOR?!? WHO PAINTS THE FLOOR?!?
I was made aware of the vastlydifferentmenu choices at McDonald's restaurants all around the world this week and I thought it my duty to showcase a few of the more appealing items in our weekly Food Porn Friday feature. So, here now, are the Top 8 International McDonald's Items That I Totally Want to Eat*.
8. The Kiwiburger
I've only got one problem with this hamburger sandwich: it's got beets! I've made no secret of my contempt for beets on this blog, but I'm willing to try a "fast food" beet for some reason. Maybe they aren't so bad on top of a mass produced hamburger patty. The Kiwiburger was so popular in New Zealand, that when it was removed from the menu--as popular items often are-- the citizenry complained so loudly, the McDonald's Corporation had no other choice but to bring it back for good. Good on ya, New Zealand.
7. McKroket
What's a kroket? Well, in The Netherlands a kroket is basically stewed meat wrapped up in a crispy fried shell. The crew at your local The Netherlands' Mickey D's then tops it with a mustard/mayonnaise sauce and slaps it between two pieces of bread. I love me some fried meat pouches. Mmmmmm!
6. McLobster
This one's got a high fail potential, but how cool would it be to saunter into your local McDonald's and order a lobster roll? It'd be super cool, right? Right?!
5. McPoutine
I've never had the pleasure of enjoying the Canadian delicacy known as poutine, but what's not to love about French fries topped with cheese curd and smothered in brown gravy? That's right: there isn't one thing not to love.
4. Double Prosperity Burger
Sure, you could go for the single, but who doesn't want twice the prosperity? Get your priorities in order, bub.
3. McBulgogi
I know what you're saying: "That's just a Big Mac. I've had a stupid Big Mac." That might look like your standard issue Big Mac, but that burger is made out of bulgogi, son!
2. Shogun Burger
Teriyaki pork patty, egg, lettuce, bun. Simple.
1. CBO (Chicken Bacon & Onion)
Like a BLT only better because it's got chicken and onions.
*And would if a) I found myself vacationing in the country in which the item exists and every other restaurant was closed and b) if I hadn't recently banned fast food from my diet.
Ever met a total killjoy with zero sense of humor at a party or something and asked yourself, "Where did that guy come from?" My guess: South Bend, Indiana. Last month, a local Mexican restaurant, Hacienda, erected and immediately took down the following billboard:
For those of you not born before 1978 (for example, me), the Hacienda billboard is referencing the Jonestown tragedy in which hundreds of followers of cult leader Jim Jones guzzled poison fruit punch at his behest and died. It was terrible and sick. And it happened in 1978. And it happened because some people are super dumb.
I'm sorry. Did that offend you, South Bendians? Would it offend you to know that I am NOT sorry? If you are dumb enough to follow a crazy person into the jungle, adopt his delusions as your own, and commit suicide for him via poisoned purple drink, you are an idiot. That's all there is to it.
Does that make the billboard funny? Not particularly. Billboards are never funny, except for those one's with messages from God on them. Oh, and that one that reads "Isn't She a Little Young?" that my wife likes so much. But, yeah, I've never seen a billboard that made me smile. Billboard comedy just ain't that great. Is the billboard in poor taste though? Again, I say no. Referencing "poisonous Kool-Aid" when describing blind adherence to a group or kooky philosophy is a part of the cultural lexicon. It's a hackneyed idea that I've probably used a time or two when making a point about religion or love of sports or something. No one ever gets offended, unless they wait until I've walked away to complain. All Hacienda is trying to impart to the public is that their food and drink specials are so amazingly delicious, you may develop a cult-like love for the place. That's all. South Bend resident Patricia Barbera-Brown didn't get it however:
"I thought perhaps I had misread the sign," she recalls. "It brought back quite a few horrible images and memories, and the very notion that a local restaurant would trivialize such a worldwide tragedy to simply increase their sales of cocktails is outrageous to me, and it offended me to the core."
Worldwide tragedy? Offended to the core?? Did you have a family member or friend who died as a result of their belief in a madman's pseudo-religious bullshit? Were you there yourself and just narrowly escaped death as a result of "butter fingers?" If the answer to either of these questions is no, then shut your stupid, joyless mouth.
Perhaps the people of South Bend were turned off by the historical inaccuracy of it all. Everyone knows Kool-Aid wasn't really the poisonous beverage of choice, but rather Flavor-Aid. If that's the case, I get it, but I'm pretty sure that is not the case.
So, do Indiana proper a favor, South Bend: shut up and STOP ALREADY!!!
And while we're on the subject of nauseating ads, here are a series of ads I've seen a lot of on television lately. They kind of make me vomit a little. I give you the Virgin Mobile "stalker" ads:
Ugh. These are sick. This character isn't entertaining, she's mentally ill. What's funny about stalking? Maybe I'm out of touch, but this looks like an SVU situation just waiting to happen.
