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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Month End Report: May

Theme: Docu-Rama-Palooza

Documentaries We Watched, But Didn't Officially Review: God Grew Tired of Us; Crazy Love; The Thin Blue Line; 8: The Mormon Proposition; Overnight

What We Learned from God Grew Tired of Us: In Africa, Pepsi is known as "Coca-Cola."

What We Learned from Crazy Love: Old people are willing to forgive A LOT!

What We Learned Very Little (If Anything) About from The Thin Blue Line: lines; the color blue; thin things

What We Learned from 8: The Mormon Proposition: Some Mormons are creeps.

What We Learned from Overnight: All Troy Duffys are creeps.

Number of Twitter Followers: 113

Latest Follower: A massage clinic in Tennessee

New Favorite Satanic Swedish Heavy Metal Band: Ghost

Current Favorite Ted Leo Songs: "Under the Hedge"; "High Party"; "I'm A Ghost"; "Dial Up"; "Timorous Me"; "Ballad of the Sin Eater"

Kurt Vonnegut Update: Almost finished reading Timequake; Slapstick waits in the wings

Thing I'm Really Getting Into: beer

Number of Summer Movies Seen So Far: 1

Title: Thor

Thor (letter grade): C-

Thor (star grade): * and 1/2

Thor (bodily noise): BRRRRRRRAP!!!

What Jonathan and I Should Have Seen Instead of Thor: Bridesmaids

First Satanic Swedish Heavy Metal Album I Plan to Play for Quinn: Opus Eponymous by Ghost

Number of Infant-Sized Mexican Tortas Eaten this Month: 1

Next month: A new theme. Our first NEW Movie Penguin Monday entry. And, duh, a baby!

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Monday, May 30, 2011

Docu-Rama Film Festival 2001-Film #10: Fetishes (1996)

It's Memorial Day, the day we get to stay home from work and remember the sacrifices made by the brave men and women of the US military to preserve our freedoms. Our freedom to choose which dumb religion to which we'd like to adhere! Our freedom to squeeze as many illegitimate children out of our birth canals as we want! Our freedom to order a half-pound double cheeseburger combo and Wendy's and large size it! And our freedom to pay a leather-clad woman to beat and humiliate us for sexual gratification! God bless this mess and God bless America.

Nick Broomfield's 1996 documentary Fetishes showcases the weird sexual kinks that get some people off and introduces us to some of the friendly, whip-cracking ladies who assist in the "getting off" process. The standard fetishes are discussed (foot and leg worship, spanking, S & M, verbal humiliation), as well as a few not so standard ones (infantilism, African slave role play, puppy training). Then there's the really weird stuff. For instance, during an interview with one of the dominatrixes at Pandora's Box, a creepy sexual playground for the kinkiest of schlubs, a subordinate kneels patiently before his mistress accepting the ashes of her smoldering cigarette into his mouth. When she has finished smoking, she deposits the spent butt into the slave's mouth and he dutifully swallows it. Mistress Raven herself seems a bit taken aback. "This one's weird," she says as the leather-masked slave chews her Camel light.
"...and a leather admiral's hat. What are you wearing?"

Another man spends his time at Pandora's Box being dressed in a variety of women's clothes and taught by Mistress Natasha, my favorite dominatrix featured in the film, about the changes that his body will undergo as a maturing women. You might want to turn away when she gets the hairbrush out. Just a warning.
We also meet: a guy with uncontrollable thoughts of genocide and various other war crimes whose only relief comes from cleaning toilets with this tongue (Broomfield interviews him while his head is stuffed in a toilet bowl); a woman who enjoys having the crap caned out of her and admiring the welts in a mirror; a Jewish businessman who asks to be verbally humiliated by a woman dressed as a Nazi; and an elderly British gentleman who wants nothing more than to be zipped up in a rubber suit and have his breathing obstructed for short bursts of time.
If this all sounds both traumatic and tiring, it is. You tend to feel just as spent by each session as the slaves do. The only thing that keeps Fetishes from becoming a creepy, depressing slog (with flaccid penises galore!) is Broomfield's visits to some of the dominatrixes apartments, in which we get to know the women behind the abuse a little bit better. Fun Fact: Mistress Natasha shares her home with two free-roaming iguanas. She shares her bed with one. His name is Spike. Broomfield and his crew leave abruptly after Spike bites the cameraman.

GEP says: WATCH IT...but remember, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

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Sunday, May 29, 2011

Get a life, John Elway!

Former Broncos quarterback and current dumb old geezer, John Elway, is all bent out of shape about a punk band no one has ever heard of using his surname as their band name. Seriously, John Elway? There aren't enough activities scheduled at the old folk's home you gotta jerk these punk kids around? As far as I know they aren't besmirching your dumb name in any way, so why don't you find a hobby, like, I don't know, building ships in bottles or something equally pointless bored, old geezers devote their limited time to, and let these dudes try their luck at making a name for themselves in this world.

To be fair, there are plenty of Elway's star athlete brethren who have a legitimate reason to be angry with the current crop of punk rock hooligans trying to succeed on the music scene today. Here is just a list of just some of the current bands named for famous athletes:

-Michael Jordan's Hairy Balls
-Skip Hall is My Gay Lover
-Patrick Ewwwww-ing
-Muggsy Bogues Raped Me!
-Romo Homo
-Lee Trevino AIDS Scare
-Shaquille O'Queer
-The New England Patri-Assholes
-Kerri Strug's Cock
-Larry Bird & The Murdered Hookers
-Drew Brees' Coke Habit
-Jake Delhomo
-Michael Phelps & The Aching Dolphin Buttholes Band
-Let's Eat Secretariat

See, John, it could be much, much worse.
Here's a little Elway (the band) for ya:

What a bunch of non-assholes!

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Saturday, May 28, 2011

Docu-Rama Film Festival 2011 Double Feature: Films #8 and #9

#8. Until the Light Takes Us (2008)
This man's name is "Dead." He is, ironically, dead.

I was not a Norwegian black metal aficionado going into 2008's Until the Light Takes Us--still not one--but I did learn something very telling from an interview with Burzum's Varg "Count Grishnakh" Vikernes, currently in prison for stabbing his bandmate and friend, Euronymous, in the brain with a pocket knife. Apparently, during the recording of Burzum's self-titled first album, Vikernes asked for the shittiest microphone, the worst amplifier, and the most god-awful drum set the studio could offer. The drums were not miked, the amplifier was the size of a Corn Flakes box, and Vikernes sang into a pair of headphones. This was all done, in Vikernes own words, for maximum shittiness. So, yeah, that's black metal, I guess.
Whether or not this is the typical route black metal artists take when recording an album--and from what I gather from the film, it probably is--Until the Light Takes Us is a fascinating doc about a misunderstood subculture. In the early 90's, black metal was unfairly labeled as Satanic by the Norwegian press when a few of its more outspoken progenitors made the perfectly legitimate point that Christianity has been a major force in cultural destruction all over the world, including Norway. This led, unfortunately, to an outbreak of church burnings. Whether or not black metal artists were directly involved is never revealed in the film, but a young, stupid Count Grishnakh took at least a little of the credit and was subsequently tossed in jail.
Besides Vikernes, the film focuses on Gylve "Fenriz" Nagell, drummer and lyricist for Darkthrone, and Kjetil-Vidar Haraldstad, or "Frost" as he is known (oh, scary), drummer for Satyricon. "Fenriz" is a likable sort, but "Frost" is a goon. Toward the end of the film, we are granted the "pleasure" of watching "Frost" perform a delightful program of fire breathing, couch stabbing, and self-mutilation. It's all bloody and flamey and dumb. Until the Light Takes Us, though, is a fascinating piece of documentary filmmaking. I couldn't be one of these black metal dudes though. They're always so dour. And what's with all the leather and spikes? Uncomfortable.

#9. Anvil!: The Story of Anvil
Robb Reiner (not that one) and Lips
From Norwegian black metal to Canadian heavy metal. Anvil!: The Story of Anvil is, well, it's right there in the title, I guess. Anvil is comprised of Robb Reiner and Steve "Lips" Kudlow (and two other guys, but whatever). Reiner and Lips met as 14-year-old Canadian lads and formed a bond that has lasted almost 40 years. Respected by their peers--hard rock luminaries like Slash, Lemmy from Motorhead, and that one guy from Twisted Sister who isn't Dee Snider--Anvil never got the fame and fortune they so richly thought they deserved. Their crowning achievement--before the release of this film anyway--had been performing at something called the Super Rock Festival in Japan in 1984, alongside Bon Jovi, Whitesnake, and the Scorpions. After that, nothing, though Slash suggests that a lot of popular bands of the time ripped Anvil off.
Here's the thing: Anvil isn't bad. I mean, for what they do. They don't make the kind of music I enjoy and I would never buy an Anvil record, not even ironically--who has the time or money for that nonsense, especially after one turns 30--but they do what they do and they do it competently. Reiner is a helluva metal drummer. And Lips has got the guitar skills and the pipes. Well, he's got the guitar skills at least. And he's got a supportive family, which is refreshing.
Whether or not you enjoy their music, you can't deny their tenacity, or rather, Lips's tenacity. This guy not only wants to make it, but he knows he is going to. Reiner goes along for the ride because he loves Lips like a brother, though he does quit the band twice during the film.
The doc ends where it all began: Japan. Can Anvil pack a 20,000 seater at 11:35 in the morning? I'll let you find out for yourself.

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Thursday, May 26, 2011

Docu-Rama Film Festival 2011-Film #7: Impaler (2008)

It takes a healthy ego to run for political office. It also takes a hook, some viewpoint or personality trait that attracts the people you desire to represent. Some candidates present themselves as regular everyday Average Joes, dining in greasy spoons with their wrinkled, elderly constituents, kissing infants on their tender fontanelles, and sharing a beer or two with the common man in a local pub. Others claim Jesus Christ as their constant source of inspiration and appear on television and radio programs that cater to the Conservative Right, yammering on about their hatred of Planned Parenthood and their collection of vintage Bibles. Still others latch onto a single issue and run with it, appealing to a select few, like, gun nuts and pot-heads. Politics is a game, and those who succeed have learned how to bend the rules in their favor, how to appear sincere whilst simultaneously being the phoniest of dirtbags. Honesty is a suggestion, not a set-in-stone rule, and politics a popularity contest where the person who wins gets to be in charge of the nuclear bombs.

But what if there were a candidate who looked at the whole "politics-as-usual" thing and said, "Screw it--we can do better than that." Imagine a politician with the balls to call a press conference, stand behind a podium and say "This is what I believe needs to be done in order to bring this nation back from the brink of war and poverty and moral degradation," and then went for it. Imagine now that at this press conference the politician in question was dressed in a cape and that his plan to restore America was to impale everybody he didn't like on wooden stakes. Imagine further, if you don't mind, that this man was a former "professional wrestler" with multiple personality disorder, rage issues, and a PhD in Political Science who regularly drank his girlfriend's blood vampire-style. Guess what? You don't have to imagine any of this because it is all wonderfully and horrifically real.
In 2006, Jonathon "The Impaler" Sharkey ran for governor of Minnesota. Sharkey, a self-proclaimed vampire and devoted follower of Satan, had big plans for the Land of 10,000 Lakes, but it was his vision for America as a whole that made him stand out, especially to the hardworking men and women of the Secret Service. The plan: impale all evildoers, starting with President George W. Bush. Yes, Sharkey's first act as governor of Minnesota (???) would be to try Bush as a war criminal and, upon finding him guilty as charged, impale him on the front lawn of the White House. Sharkey also proposed impaling for Osama Bin Laden, every member of al-Qaeda, and all convicted criminals.
You almost have to admire Sharkey's tenacity. Almost. As the film progresses, Sharkey seems more a semi-dangerous mental patient than simply a harmless kook. First there's the whole "impale everybody" thing. On his way to a television interview, Sharkey lays out his plan to personally impale defendants in the courtroom where they stand, no matter the verdict. And Sharkey's penchant for stabby violence isn't reserved merely for his twisted justice fantasies, as we learn from a series of interviews with the wife and children he has abandoned. As if all of this wasn't enough, Sharkey is convinced that he is "satanically married" to his half-sister, Kat, who probably, almost definitely, does not actually exist. Oh, yeah, HE ALSO THINKS HE IS A VAMPIRE!
Impaler is a fascinating film in spite of it's shoddy camerawork, multi-fonted captions and goofball director, who shoves himself Michael Moore-style into more scenes than is necessary. He and his producer seem all to willing to indulge Sharkey in his dangerously dumb bullshit with their stupid questions and their goading laughter. But as the film progresses and we learn more about Sharkey's trouble past, the film grows deeper and more meaningful. In fact, the film gets better anytime Sharkey is talked about, but not actually onscreen.


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Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Dared to be Stupid: Dressing Your Lady for One Terrible Week

There was an interesting (?) article on Yahoo last week about a woman who was dared to allow her boyfriend to dress her for one week. The results were surprisingly dull. The boyfriend didn't really do that bad of a job. The craziest thing he did was give his girlfriend pigtails on Day 7. So edgy!

If the piece proves anything--and I don't even know if it was the author's intention to prove any kind of point--it's that men aren't as clueless as the fairer sex sometimes thinks we are. If asked to pick out outfits for our wives or girlfriends for a week, the majority of men are not going to whip out the fishnets and the transparent hooker heels. We're men, after all, not animals.

Then again, I think the boyfriend in this scenario missed a perfect opportunity to, for lack of a better, infinitely less vulgar term, fuck with his girl. She'd given him a chance to dress her in the aforementioned fishnets and whore shoes, no questions asked. She'd opened the door to all sorts of crazy clothes concoctions and this guy, frankly, dropped the ball. But this is why Giant Electric Penguin exists: to right the wrongs of our misguided brethren (and sistren, when the need arises). With that in mind we present what we think is a much better week of wardrobe choices for BeautyRiot Diva. We hope you agree.
Why not push the limits right at the top of the week? The first day in any sort of "pick-out-your-girlfriend's-clothes-for-a-week" scenario NEEDS to be something controversial, something bold. Your lady friend has been dared to follow your rules, don any sort of crazy costume you can comprehend. Why not the slutty cheerleading outfit, I ask. This choice shows your significant other that you are taking the dare seriously. It shows you've got team spirit. Go team!
There has never been a snazzier dresser in the Marvel Comics Universe than the White Queen. This ensemble is perfect for a romantic dinner, a 10-year high school reunion, or a showdown with the X-Men. Maybe it's just me, but I think a woman looks quite fetching in a furry cape. It probably is just me.
There is no more important fashion icon these days then popular recording artist Lady Gaga. There is no ingredient more versatile and delicious than beef. Dressing your lady in a steak dress shows that you are hip to current trends in fashion and music and who doesn't want to be hip to things?
Squirrel costumes just make me smile. And if I'm smiling, I know my lady's smiling. Course, I'll have to ask her, as the complete squirrel costume makes emotions virtually impossible to read.
Perhaps you feel this choice is better suited for our Perving Out series. Listen, I may be running a comedy blog here, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let a bunch of close-minded conservative finger-waggers take away my right to celebrate sweet female asses crammed into skintight pants! Good day, sir!
Cosplay is unfairly maligned by non-creeps, and I think that is unfair. There's nothing wrong with a little cosplay, just as there's nothing wrong with a little light S&M on your birthday. You're telling me your old lady won't feel beautiful dressed as Rosalina, the interstellar princess from Super Mario Galaxy? How could she not? She's got a crown AND a wand. And you don't have to limit your girlfriend to Mario princesses neither. It just so happens that women can look just as classy dressed as Mario, his brother Luigi, or their dinosaur buddy Yoshi. You see, the possibilities are endless.
Hell, it's day seven: get stupid crazy. Your girl will never expect an Eddie Murphy-style fat suit, but there you'll be, with a team of make-up artists, ready to make your lady's Hollywood dreams bear fruit. Millions--well, hundreds, at least--are delighted by Murphy's farting fatties and now your sweetheart can experience the same love and admiration. If only for a day.

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Monday, May 23, 2011

Movie Penguin Monday: #6. Robot Monster (1953)

[Enjoy this classic from the musty vaults of Movie Penguin. And stay tuned! An all new review is on its way. We've picked the movie, we're just waiting for the right time to unleash it upon our unsuspecting readers. You've been warned.]
When you think about the worst movies ever made, what films usually come to mind? Plan 9 From Outer Space? Manos: Hands of Fate? Titanic? All good choices, but no bad movie list can be complete without 1953's delightfully inept Robot Monster. This is quintessential bad, dear reader, maybe the worst in the bunch. Hell, director Phil Tucker attempted suicide after critics panned Robot Monster (not really...he actually attempted suicide because he was clinically depressed).

What makes Robot Monster so wonderfully, gloriously, transcendently bad, you ask? Let's start with the film's villain, Ro-Man.
He is ostensibly the "robot monster" promised in the title, but as you can see while he does appear monsterous he is, in fact, nothing more than a gorilla with a diving helmet for a head. The movie's exciting poster features a sinister skull-face lurking beneath the helmet's glass, but in the actual movie Ro-man's face resembles nothing more than a featureless mannequin head. There is nothing robot-ish about Ro-Man. There's also nothing remotely scary about him. I mean, c'mon, his communication device runs on bubbles. Bubbles! It is called the Billion Bubble Machine in the credits. That's right. The Billion Bubble Machine gets a credit.

Other reasons Robot Monster is a complete cinematic failure: non-sensical use of stock footage from old dinosaur movies; entire film is set in a rock quarry and the desolate, uninteresting environs; ear-piercing sound effects; seizure inducing strobe effects; cheesy 3-D tomfoolery; antagonist is a gorilla wearing a space helmet!!!

"Err-or! Err-or! Err-or!"

Our story begins at a charming afternoon picnic in a rock quarry. Johnny and his chubby sister Carla are playing amongst the sharp debris, dank caves, and steep cliffs when they come across two men--Roy and The Professor--who claim to be archaeologists. Whatever they are, Johnny doesn't hesitate to hop onto The Professor's lap. After a few minutes of lap-sitting and a simplistic explanation of what archaeologists do, Mother (apparently she isn't important enough for an actual name) and Alice (Johnny and Carla's older sister) retrieve the youngsters and everyone takes a nap on the cold, hard ground of the abandoned rock quarry. Now that's good sleepin'!

Johnny can't stop thinking about The Professor's lap though (heck, the boy needs a male role model in his life--he laments his dead father just before nap time) and while his family sleeps he heads back to cave where he first met The Professor and his handsome sidekick. As Johnny approaches the cave, he is struck by lightning (I think?). He collapses and two lizards engage in mortal combat. No, really. A baby alligator with a fan taped to its back and some other reptile are thrown onto a poorly constructed set, which I guess has been created to make them appear huge and menacing, where they proceed to, as the kids used to and celebri-chef Bobby Flay currently says, "throw down." It is the kind of scene no longer possible in this Let's Be Respectful of Animals' Feelings world we live in today. Thanks, PETA!

Anyway, the lizards brawl (as do some triceratopses--???) and we are suddenly thrust into the distant future (I guess?) in which The Professor is now father to Johnny, Carla, and Alice, Roy is still the handsome sidekick, and they are the last living people on Earth. Where is everybody else? Well, they've all been killed in an alien invasion. The invaders? Well, it's actually just the one invader, Ro-man, and he, um, actually, uh, lives on the other side of the rock quarry. WHA??? Yes, Ro-man has single-handedly eradicated every human being on Earth, yet his leader, The Grand Guidance, is incensed that five people still remain. Really? As far as I'm concerned, Ro-man did a pretty good job. I mean, he killed everyone on the planet and burned every city to the ground by himself. What did you do, Grand Guidance? Oh yeah. You sat at your view screen like a turd grumbling orders, belittling Ro-Man and blowing bubbles. Jerk! The Professor and his family are impervious to Ro-Man's Calcinator death ray, which as far as I can tell emanates from Ro-Man's body, having been injected with a serum that makes it impossible for them to get sick, so Ro-Man decides he will have to murder them with his bare hands. Only problem is he's fallen in love with Alice who unbeknowst to him has married Roy in a ceremony officiated by her father, The Professor. After the wedding, Roy and Alice head off into the wild for their honeymoon, even though up to this point The Professor has forbidden anyone to leave the electrified bunker they call home. Carla follows and is strangled to death by Ro-Man. Then Ro-Man punches Roy in the face a few times and runs off with Alice. Roy dies (???), but not before he tells The Professor, Mother, and Johnny what Ro-Man has done. Johnny comes up with a foolproof plan to save his older sister, Ro-Man attempts to rape Alice, and The Grand Guidance, who has grown sick and tired of Ro-Man's ineptitude, shoots lightning out of his fingers, killing Ro-Man, Johnny, and everybody else. The lizards fight some more. The triceratopses get into it again. The earth splits open and crumbles...

(Being the dutiful host that I am, I must now warn you, readers, that the section following the photograph of Ro-Man and Alice engaged in an interplanetary slap fight contains spoilers galore. Read on if you'd like to know what happens in Robot Monster's thrilling final act or stop here, watch the film for yourself, and return for my expert [and, let's face it, hilarious!] analysis.)Then Johnny wakes up. That's's all been a dream. A horrible, poorly written dream. The Professor, Roy, and Johnny's family find him, woozy and bleeding, on the ground outside of a cave. He babbles something about looking out for Ro-Man, everyone laughs, and Johnny slips into a coma. Nah. I'm kidding. Johnny's fine. Ro-Man does lumber out of the cave though...three times! I thought there was something wrong with my copy of the film (oh yeah, I own this bitch!), but I think now that Phil Tucker was simply giving his audience one last spooky 3-D effect before sending them home to lament the hour and half they'd just wasted.

So Robot Monster is nothing more than the nightmare of a little boy who has been struck by lightning and left for dead in an abandoned rock quarry. OK, I'll buy it, but let's take a closer look at this dream, shall we?

In the opening scenes of Robot Monster, we are struck over the head repeatedly with the fact that Johnny has a wild imagination and enough creativity to power a largish Mid-Western city for nearly three days (that's pretty good if you've read the same studies on children's creativity as a renewable energy source that I have), yet the best extraterrestrial invader he can dream up is a gorilla in a space helmet. I am aware of the fact that we cannot control our dreams (though I did have a friend in high school who swore to having at least three lucid dreams in which he was the master of his own fantastical dream fate), but I could do better than a gorilla in a space helmet with half of my brain removed.

And why does Johnny's dream include a mushy love story? What nine year old boy has a dream that includes a romantic subplot for his older sister? Again, dreams are completely random. In reality, the dream's love story would've been between Johnny and Alice or Johnny and Roy or, worse yet, Johnny and Mother. That's what happens in dreams: uncomfortable shit. Not in Robot Monster though. Johnny not only dreams about his sister finding true love with The Professor's handsome sidekick, but he also dreams them up a sex scene (albeit one that occurs after a fade to black).

The dream angle gives the lizard and tricertops fights and Carla's murder a weird kind of logic, but for the most part the movie doesn't work. And that's why Robot Monster is so damn memorable! It's a mess, but a wonderful one. Robot Monster deserves its place among the worst films of all time and Ro-Man will live on forever as Earth's lamest visitor from outer space.

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Sunday, May 22, 2011

How and When Will the World REALLY End?: We Ask the Experts

So, it's May 22nd and we're all still here. AWWWW-KWARD! Listen, if you thought the world was going to end yesterday and you drained your life savings putting up billboards and passing out tracts in Times Square, you deserve the ball-busting you will inevitably receive Monday at work. Don't be a dick. Just laugh at yourself and own your blind stupidity.

I didn't lose any sleep over Saturday's Doomsday prediction, but it did get me thinking about the end of the world. Will it happen in my lifetime? And if it does, how will the whole thing go down? Is it gonna hurt? Will al-Qaeda be involved? North Korea? Polar ice caps run amok? Giant space robots? Damn, dirty apes??? I came up with plenty of questions, but very few answers. So, I took my questions to the experts: crackpots! I sent an e-mail to several of the country's leading crackpots and asked them what is really gonna happen when this old world comes to a grinding stop. In the upcoming weeks, I will be publishing their answers unedited and sans snarky retort. Perhaps these predictions will bring you comfort. Perhaps they will scare the poop right out of your bowels and into your pants, a place where poop, most would agree, does not belong. Whatever your reaction, change your underpants once in awhile, all right?

Expert: Pastor Irving Priestly III

How: The Rapture

When: June 15, 2021, Tuesday, late-afternoon

The Details: "Jesus Christ will return to the planet Earth around 3:30 PM Tuesday afternoon and appear on Mtv's Total Request Live--TRL having returned to the airways sometime in late 2017--to make the official announcement. Jesus will instruct the righteous to check-in at one of the Heavenly Depots, angelic train stations that will appear as if from nowhere following the broadcast, in their area for "Rapture passes." He will give away free passes to the first three callers to the show before disappearing in a puff of glitter and doves.

"Believers who have been washed clean by the Blood of the Lamb will be allow to board Heaven-bound trains starting around 5:00 or so--the Bible is unclear on this--and snacks will be served. At exactly 7:35 PM, the trains will follow a complicated series of golden train tracks into the sky and arrive in Heaven in time for Two and A Half Men, which will be on it's third or fourth cast by this point--the Bible is unclear on this. The wicked will be left behind to their homosexual dating sites and their Lady Gaga.

"In Heaven, the pure of heart will enjoy hymns and fish sticks for all eternity, while the wicked will continue to fornicate with farm animals and read books about teenaged witches as they always have.

"The Earth, oddly enough, will go on existing until 5067, when God mistakes it for a meatball and eats it."

Irving Priestly III is pastor of the Holiness Lamb All-Christ All-The-Time Church of Holiness in Bonneville, Indiana. He is the author of the books "1,001 Ways To Rapture Ready Your Home" and "Obama is the Anti-Christ and Other Stories for Kids."

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Saturday, May 21, 2011

Docu-Rama Film Festival 2011-Film #6: Bangkok Girl (2005)

[The following review contains a VERY BIG spoiler, so if you have any interest in seeing Bangkok Girl for yourself, stop reading now and come back later. You have been warned.]
Jordan Clark is a creep! He spends 41-minutes making us fall in with a sweet-natured Thai bar girl with a hardscrabble life and then informs us in the film's closing moments that she is dead. It is a blunt, unceremonious finale to a film dripping with misery and pain. Not exactly the Friday night party-starter I was hoping for.

Bangkok Girl is less a hard-hitting documentary about Thailand's sex trade than it is a love letter to its doomed 19-year-old subject, Pla. There is nothing sketchy about Clark's love for Pla. He is genuinely interested in her story, as well as her safety. His camera never leaves Pla as she shows him around her hometown, introduces him to her co-workers at the German-owned bar where she is employed, and discusses her traumatic childhood. He cares for her and as the film progresses, we start to care for her too. We don't want anything to happen to Pla and we're confident that Clark will keep her from harm. He does. As long as he and his camera are around.
The scenes without Pla--and they are very rare--largely fall flat. Who doesn't know that Bangkok is a cesspool of horny falangs, crooked cops, and miserable poor people by now? You hear about someone vacationing in Thailand and you automatically go, "Yep, he's a pervert." It is a sick, dangerous, and corrupt city, but the women seem to be the only ones who suffer, so, unfortunately, nothing much ever changes.
I don't know what Clark could've done to save Pla's life. Probably nothing. I'm sure her death haunts him to this day. Doesn't mean I want to be dragged into his nightmare. I so wanted Bangkok Girl to end with photographs from Jordan and Pla's wedding or a "1 year later" update that saw Pla working in a center for former teen prostitutes. But I guess happy endings aren't for everyone. Some people just die. But why did it have to be Pla?

GEP says: SKIP IT!

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Friday, May 20, 2011

89 Things I'm Going to Miss When the World Ends Tomorrow

1. my wife
2. the birth of my daughter
3. sweet tea
4. vaginal intercourse
5. Chinese buffets
6. Gossip Girl
7. trivia night at Dain's Place
8. Indian food
9. whiskey sours
10. the novels of Kurt Vonnegut
11. pizza
12. water slides
13. ballpark-style peanuts
14. my wife's pimento cheese
15. The Best Show on WFMU
16. Jenna Rose's "My Jeans"
17. Walt Disney World
18. Facebook
19. Twitter
20. Lobstertube
21. Chewy Lemonhead & Friends candy
22. chicken fingers
23. my Child's Play box set
24. tacos
25. They Might be Giants
26. the "fried food district" at the NC State Fair
27. noise pop
28. strawberry soda
29. the occasional cigarette
30. kickin' in the front seat
31. sittin' in the back seat
32. Parks and Recreation
33. cheese fries
34. my friends
35. my family
36. handjobs
37. apple picking
38. farm fresh tomatoes
39. a nice Caesar salad
40. my mom's chicken salad
41. my mom's chili
42. blowjobs
43. Philadelphia
44. strong coffee
45. corn on the cob
46. the Tintin movie
47. brewery tours
48. fried calamari
49. my car
50. my iPod
51. my cat
52. the graphic novel section of my local library
53. the diners of New Jersey
54. musical comedy
55. Patton Oswalt
56. sauerkraut
57. Doug Loves Movies
58. Web Soup
59. my DVR
60. Netflix streaming
61. chicken wings
62. ranch dressing
63. The Lonely Island
64. scuppernong wine
65. Justified
66. WaWa shortis
67. The Original Italian (#13) at Jersey Mike's
68. pretty much sandwiches in general
69. PBR
70. South Park
71. Cat's Cradle
72. T.J. Miller
73. that Mexican lady on Food Network
74. Iron Chef America
75. Twizzlers
76. Heidi & Frank
77. Bjork
78. "alternative" comedy
79. pop culture
80. horror films
81. my Converse collection
82. my collection of "clever" t-shirts
83. Who Charted?
84. comic books
85. The Smiths
86. Wendy's
87. public access television
88. puppets
89. Giant Electric Penguin

Good-bye, everyone. It's been a helluva ride. See y'all on the flip flop. CHIM CHIM CH'REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

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Food Porn Friday: Fried Calamari from Casalinga (Raleigh, NC)

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Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Wednesday Morning Music: David from Real World New Orleans-"Come On Be My Baby Tonight"

Awwwww, yeah. It's Wednesday--Hump Day--time to crank the sexy dial to 11. Let the dulcet tones of Real World New Orleans's David Broom wash over you; drown in the silky sweet vocals and sticky hot keyboard licks of someone no one under the age of 25 could possibly remember. Oh, baby!
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Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Letter Bombed: A Celebration of Junk Mail

Junk mail! It's something we all have in common. Your neighbors may be dogfight enthusiasts or corpulent swingers who prefer gettin' frisky with the blinds open or (GASP!) Mormons, but at the end of the day, I guarantee, you all find yourself seated in front of your computer screen, bitching to the heavens about the pages upon pages of junk e-mail you've received in the past 24 hours. It usually happens 'round about 9:00 PM. Don't believe me? Lean your head outside at 9 tonight and listen real close and you'll hear a chorus of disgruntled moans you won't soon forget.

GEP, Inc. gets junk mail too. A lot. And I go through it every night. Hey, you never know when a sexy lady listener might decide to send a tasteful nude pic. (For the record, this has never happened.) Most of the junk mail we receive is largely unworthy of its own feature, but these babies are the cream of the crop. Here now is a list of 11 of the best (?) junk mail subject lines from mail we've received in the last two weeks.

1. Sail with These Nickelodeon Stars on Norwegian Cruise Line!

Typically, I'd be content to read a junk mail's subject line, smirk, and erase, but I had to know which Nickelodeon stars I'd see on the shuffleboard court or crooning drunkenly at an after hours karoke contest on the Nickelodeon Cruise. "Please let it be Drake and Josh! Please let it be Drake and Josh!" I prayed. It wasn't Drake and/or Josh. Instead it was two young actors from iCarly who weren't iCarly herself, two young actors from something called Victorious, and SpongeBob Squarepants himself, Mr. Tom Kenny. Hm. Disappointing. Then I remembered that I had vowed to never set foot on another cruise ship ever again following the one, and only, cruise I have ever been on to date. I'm a huge Mr. Show (and shuffleboard) fan, but that ain't enough to get me on the Nick Cruise. Sorry.

2. Free Cheesecake Factory! Details Inside!

Warning: You will not be presented with your very own Cheesecake Factory franchise after completing the included questionnaire. Stupid false advertising!

3. schmuck ht me lke a ngga who done lost hs mnd

E-mail was actually just a guy requesting a loan to purchase a new keyboard as the "I" key on his was mysteriously missing. I don't know why the subject line was so racially charged. Seemed a bit much.

4. You've Won Free Subway Sandwiches for Week! Details Inside

Ugh. No matter what you think, Subway, this is not a prize anybody anywhere wants. Please, can't we all finally come together and let Subway know that their food is terrible? If not for us, let's do it for the children.

5. There?

Included this because it was sent by someone named "Terry Wet."

6. Joseph, Claim your Free Issue of America's favorite magazine!

Poor Joseph. He'll never know how close he was to receiving one free issue of...READER'S DIGEST? THAT'S AMERICA'S FAVORITE MAGAZINE? OH, FUCK YOU, AMERICA!

7. Ron Jeremy reveals his long penis secrets with this

With this what? Medieval sex device? Magic wiener powder? A length of rope and a boulder? I was going to have to click a link to something called to find out the answer, so, naturally, I didn't.

8. I challenge you to invent

Who do you think you are challenging me to anything, man! I don't have to follow your rules! Why don't you invent something, like, a shutting up machine or something, man!

9. Let solar panels pay your electric bill

More false advertising. These solar panels are in no position to pay anybody's electric bills. They don't even have jobs. All they do is lounge around in their sweatpants and play Xbox all day long. How are they gonna pay my electric bills when they can't even get a call back from Wal-mart? Lazy ass solar panels. Eating all my Eggos.

10. s getting all the pieces of you that you have cut off. it is not life you choo

I could be wrong, but I think I'm being threatened.

Here's what the actual e-mail said:

our awareness, in your communicating with others. so when you recall a story memory, all your body stores that memory and also those memories associated with them and these also enhance the original...w i’m afraid i’ve lost it. to have true freedom all things have to be free to express, to be, do, say, etc. and anything less is not freedom but control and condition. everything and especially our

I mean, I get it, but, you know, no thanks.

11. T.lTTY

Enough said.

Incidentally, here is what this actual e-mail actually said FOR REAL:

kvr, mxvav. qrlngogj nmvyn nwzizcvr wauzdn q zcxgzz yt foqixgc ap c q.

Powerful stuff.

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Monday, May 16, 2011

Movie Penguin Monday: #5. Undefeatable (1993)

Here's what I think happened regarding Undefeatable: Sometime in the early '90s, a young man named Tai Yim thought to himself, "Golly, I've got a lot of friends who are super good at various forms of martial arts and junk. It sure would be swell if they had a place to showcase their different talents for a paying audience. A movie maybe. That's it!" Yim then gathered up his kung-fu buddies, told them his million dollar idea, and sat down to create some kind of story for his friends to inhabit, after all, a movie needs characters and a plot. After loosely constructing a basic story idea on a series of T.G.I. Fridays bar napkins, Yim presented it to the screenwriting team of Steve Harper and Robert Vassar, who somehow turned the scribblings of a karate lover drunk on Friday's Ultimate Mango Mai Tais into a semi-coherent script. All that was needed now was a director of blazing talent and impeccable vision. And who could be a better choice than Godfrey Ho (aka, Godfrey Hall), director of such outstanding films as Lethal Extortion, Death Code: Ninja, and US Catman 2: Boxer Blow, not to mention the Thunder Ninja Kids series?

So, there's a script, a cast of professional martial artists, and a world renowned director. It's time to shoot this baby! Now the fear sets in for, I would guess, the bulk of the cast. They've suddenly realized, "Oh, shit, there are cameras here and stuff. And I have lines. Everybody here knows I'm not an actor, right?" But what can Hall/Ho do? Sending everybody home would be rude, after all, they've been practicing their Eagle Claw Technique for months, perfecting their jump kicks and splits. So, Hall/Ho decides to press on. Damn the lack of acting ability! Damn the ridiculous script! "I made Robo-Kickboxer-Power of Justice, dammit," Hall/Ho screamed into the cold night air. "I can do anything!"

Of course, I could be completely wrong.
Undefeatable is ostensibly a film about a streetfighting waitress (Cynthia Rothrock) seeking the man who killed the younger sister she is struggling to put through college, but it becomes clear rather quickly that the vastly more fascinating tale being woven concerns the film's protagonist, a rape-happy kickboxer named Paul, aka Stingray. We've seen the whole struggling waitress engages in Mafia-backed back alley fights with rival gang members for cash thing before. But Stingray's casual murder spree (seriously, this guy just lopes around town like a pothead until somebody sets him off) is what provides the most entertainment in this colossal failure of a film. Since she receives top billing in this piece of shit though, let's consider Rothrock's story first.

Rothrock plays Kristi Jones, a former member of the Red Dragons street gang and current diner waitress, who engages in illegal street brawls for quick cash which she uses to pay her sister Karen's college tuition. Early in the film, Kristi is arrested and interrogated by hunky police dectective Nick DiMarco, an accomplished martial arts expert in his own right. The two of them eventually team up to hunt Stingray, but their "love" story is pretty stale and rendered DOA by the fact that, quite simply, these two "actors" possess no acting prowess what-so-fucking-ever. Far more interesting (i.e. ridiculous) is Undefeatable's B Story which focuses on Stingray, a violent sociopath with complex mommy issues. His wife, Anna, after speaking with a pyschiatrist, Dr. Jennifer Simmons (who just happens to be Karen Jones' favorite professor), leaves Stingray after a weirdly comic dinnertime rape. Stingray returns home from the gym the next night to find a "Dear John" letter on the dining room table and, well, he just sorta loses it. Now every woman he sees that halfway resembles Anna (floral dress, teased out red hair) gets kidnapped, taken to his secret warehouse (???), tied up with chains, raped, and eventually murdered. Oh, yeah. Stingray is also fond of plucking out his victim's eyeballs with his bare hands and tossing them in his fish tank. Ew.

After Stingray dispatches Kristi's sister at a strip mall in broad daylight (???), the two stories converge and the film turns into every other "hunt for a serial killer" movie you've ever seen only with more karate and more stupid. In the end (SPOILER ALERT!!!) Kristi and Nick kick Stingray's ass in a hospital basement:

Undefeatable's cheap look, bad acting, and fairly ridiculous yet technically competent fight scenes, reminded me of Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter without the vampires, rampant lesbianism, and wit. It is a hacky kung fu trifle filled with gobs of unintentional hilarity, but very little substance. For lovers of classic cinematic trash, Undefeatable is a treat that I can't help but to endorse wholeheartedly. It's stupid, but it's short, therefore lessening the sense of hopeless depression one can feel after watching a B-movie. I'm totally willing to waste my precious time watching a bad movie if said movie is no longer than 90 minutes or so. Any longer and I really start to wonder why God hasn't struck me dead for squandering the precious gift of life.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Undefeatable's final bit of dialogue before the credits come blazing across the screen. Kristi, Nick, and Kristi's trio of goofy, Asian sidekicks are standing before Karen's grave presumably to inform the corpse that her death has been avenged or whatever. As the group saunters off into the sunset, this conversation happens...for real:

Goofy Asian Gang Member #2: Hey, maybe we should go to college.
Goofy Asian Gang Member #1: I already told you, our IQs are too high
(Note: he actually did say this earlier in the film--he literally told this horrible joke twice in the movie)
Kristi: Actually, guys, I already enrolled you. You start Monday.
Goofy Asian Gang Member #1: Well, what about you, Kristi. Are you gonna go to college?
Kristi: (laughs) Oh, no. Not me.
Nick: That's what you think. I enrolled you!
All: (laughing)

Wait a minute. So, you can just enroll people in college without them knowing? I don't think that's accurate? Also, since Kristi has enrolled three of her friends in college, does that mean she is going to pay their tuition? She was having a hard enough time paying her sister's tuition, now she's gotta help out three of her unfunny gang member friends? And who the hell is paying for Kristi's education? Officer Nick? They hardly know each other. They don't even share a passionate kiss in the film, but rather a passionless hug. Whatever, Undefeatable!

Also, I'm not sure "undefeatable" is an actual word. Am I wrong?

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Friday, May 13, 2011

Food Porn Friday: The Instant Heart Attack Sandwich

What are we looking at here? Well, it is quite simply a mountain of deliciously-salty, thinly-sliced pastrami nestle between two fried potato pancakes. Or, as I like to call it, THE GREATEST SANDWICH TO EVER EXIST ON THE PLANET EARTH!

Sadly, this god among sandwiches is currently only available at the 2nd Avenue Deli in New York. But, hey, I don't know who's reading this post, so here goes nothing: if you are a friend of the blog OR a personal friend of mine who lives in NYC (and don't try to deny our friendship, because I know you totally still love me), how 'bout buying one of these things for me and FedExing it down to Raleigh. Contact me at if this seems plausible in any way. C'mon, let's all contribute to my early demise!

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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Wednesday Morning Music: The Cranberries-"Salvation"

Current record holder for song that has been stuck in my head for the longest stretch of time (2 weeks and counting!). Luckily, I'm a Cranberries fan, so it's no biggie. (WARNING: VIDEO FEATURES CREEPIEST CLOWN EVER!!!)

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Monday, May 9, 2011

Perving Out: A Double Shot of Kate Beckinsale

Lil' Archie knows how to perv out! You go, you chubby ginger freak!

Kate Beckinsale dressed as a sexy Little Red Riding Hood, eh? I think I got some inappropriate comments for that.

1. "I know a shortcut to Grandmother's house. It's right here in my pants."
2. "I wouldn't mind wolfing down her goodies."
3. "You think your grandma's teeth are big, wait'll you see my balls."

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Movie Penguin Monday: #4. Nightbeast (1982)

[Another classic from the Movie Penguin vault. Cough! It's dusty in there]
I've finally found it: the most awkward sex scene in cinema history! To be fair, I wasn't really looking for it, but that doesn't mean I wasn't supremely pleased when I stumbled across it. At about the halfway point in schlock-master Don Dohler's 1982 largely useless alien invader flick Nightbeast, Bob Ross-haired, porn-stache sporting Sheriff Cinder makes awkward, poorly-lit love to sexy Deputy Lisa Kent and film history is officially made. Lisa removes Cinder's pants to bandage a leg wound, takes a long, sensual shower, and returns, wearing only a towel, to the bedroom where Cinder seals the deal:

Cinder: You're very attractive. I guess I never noticed before. Can I take this shirt off?
Lisa: Only if I can take this towel off.

Oh, baby! That is HOT! OK, first of all, why would Karin Kardian (the actress who plays Deputy Kent) agree to strip down and roll around on a bed with Tom Griffith (who played the role of Sheriff Cinder in not one, but two, Don Dohler alien invasion pictures!)? Why, Karin? This is the only movie role you've ever had, for God's sake. And look at the movie? It's Nightbeast, an astonishingly cheap looking, low budget B-movie populated by Baltimore-area "actors" with annoying accents and showcasing some of the most insulting special effects I've ever seen. Did you think this bold choice your first time out would lead to bigger roles in classier films? Oh, Karin. I weep for you. Also, nice butt.

Secondly, is this sex scene even necessary? I know, Middle School Matt, sometimes 80's horror movies are the only place a young boy can go when he's got a hankering for boobies, but when you get older you'll realize that a film that relies on a meaningful story and a logical plotline rather than senseless titillation is more satisfying to watch. You'll also lose your hair, but you'll have a pretty sweet DVD collection. And two whole women will have sex with you! As you can see, Middle School Matt, your future will be totally awesome!

Nightbeast concerns a blood-thirsty alien's attack on the charming city of Perry Hall, Maryland. As the film opens, an extraterrestrial spacecraft is struck by a meteor and sent hurtling to Earth. A rubber-faced beastie with tragic orthodontal issues evacuates the small craft just before it explodes...hundreds of times! OK, maybe not hundreds, but a ridiculous amount of times. Some yokels who happen to be camping nearby check out the wreckage and are killed by the creature's laser blaster. Let's talk about this laser gun for a moment. When you are shot with this weapon from outer space, you turn all disco (see above) then disappear. Some people leave behind a pile of person-shaped ashes. Others turn into a slow-burning brush fire. The same happens when a car is struck by the laser beam. The car gets all sparkly and disappears. While cars and human flesh are easily disintegrated by the alien's laser beam, stone walls and rotted logs are not, so when engaging in a fire fight with the alien, our heroes often take refuge behind these aforementioned un-laser-blastable objects thus shielding themselves from death.

Perry Hall is populated by all kinds of loveable oddballs, like Mayor Bert Wicker and his teenage lover/secretary, Mary Jane. He's an ass-kissing sycophant and she's a slutty teenage drunk. They make quite a quirky pair until they are disembowled by the titular night beast. Another local favorite is middle-aged greaser Drago, seen here on his kick-ass motorcyle:
Drago taunts local law enforcement with his devil-may-care attitude, his slicked-back hair, and his jaunty mustache. When he's not riding his hog around town he's strangling his ex-girlfriend or awkwardly attempting to rape Deputy Lisa or getting into a slow-motion fist fight with Jamie, a local boy who occasionally assists the sheriff's department. Drago's story arc (which never once intersects with the night beast's) is silly and pointless, but Drago emerges as the only memorable character in a film full of area weirdos looking for their big break. Drago may beat and rape women, threaten law enforcement officers with their own weapons, and act like a 45 year old James Dean, but...oh, you know what? Nevermind. Drago is totes lame!

But that's okay because Nightbeast is pretty lame. Nightbeast reminds me of a fan-made Halloween movie I watched on YouTube once. The internet film was nothing more than a series of increasingly over-the-top murder scenes and while some of them were quite affective and moderately scary, the scenes never added up to much more than a plotless snuff film. Oh, Michael Myers totally killed a guy with a machete...and a hammer...and a bar of decorative soap...and...and...get it? There wasn't much else going on. We can forgive this YouTube exclusive, however, because it is fan-made. Some dude took the time to rent equipment, get his friends together, and put on a creep show. Then he edited the thing, added some music, and had himself a little horror movie to share with the world. To be honest, it looked pretty good, it just wasn't very satisfying.

I'm pretty certain Don Dohler wasn't setting out to change the face of science fiction (even though that's what the original film trailer promises), Nightbeast wasn't his answer to Star Wars. It's a B-film, a gore flick made on the cheap, a piffle. It's not very entertaining, the acting is abysmal, but it features some classic unintentional hilarity and a legendary scene of awkward lovemaking. Nightbeast is a waste of time, but I'm pretty sure it's the first invasion film in which the alien wears a dress shirt.

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