Monthly Archives: June 2012

Your Kids Ain’t Cute And Neither Is This Conversation

I assume everyone knows the old saying that the three things you don’t talk about in “mixed” company are sex, politics, and religion (though all three together is the secret to the ultimate party explosion, or a terrible corrupt theocracy, EVS). I think we (society?) need to add another category: kids/pets. Now, I’m not talking about small groups of close friends or your Mommy and Me group, I’m talking about parties, dinners, bars, anywhere with a lot of people or people you don’t know very well.

I propose that from now on, the polite rule will be that you can state that you have kids/pets and what variety they are, AND THAT’S IT. Parents/pet owners have proven they can’t handle the pressure of being both parents/pet owners and members of polite society so we’re gonna have to shut it down. First of all, when someone starts prattling about their precious baby, kitty cat, shih tzu, it is fucking boring. Everyone else’s brain shuts down and they start playing old video games in their heads, which actually if you’re trying to rob the place is a pretty good Phase I, I guess. Start talking about how your precious princess is already sitting up which she shouldn’t be able to do for two more months and all the books say she is a fucking genius and you’ve called MENSA but they don’t test infants, which is ageist discrimination and you have written several letters and no one will notice your partners going through the crowd stealing jewelry, wallets, wall art, and whatever they can carry. See, this zlog is full of practical advice. I think I’ll start classifying it as “educational/instructional.”

Back to the point. Not only is talk of your precious baby/tabby/pomerdoodle boring, but inevitably it turns gross. I don’t know what happens to people when they have a kid, but the part of their brain that judges which topics are appropriate and which are completely fucking disgusting apparently just disintegrates. People who have pets because they want kids but are sterile/hopelessly alone seem to be missing this part of their brain too. Maybe the mental illness that makes having kids seem like a good idea comes with irreparable damage to the grossness identification lobe of your brain (totally scientific name for real body part). I sat in horror a few months ago as a woman described in vivid detail the different types of poop her dog shits depending on what it has eaten that day. Why? Why did I need to know this? And parents are even worse, they think stories like “I was laying with Sir Poopsalot (perfect name for a kid, if someone named their kid this I might actually respect someone with kids) on my chest and then he just blew orange shit spray all over my chest. HAHAHAHA isn’t that just precious HAHAHAHA!” are FUNNY! They are not funny. They are not even unfunny. They are disgusting and unnecessary. Do you believe if everyone laughs at your terrible, shit-filled life then it’s really not so bad? Well no one is laughing, and it is that bad. Actually, it’s worse but the sleep deprivation might make you crazy enough to want to carry on.

The only recourse to being stuck in a room with these people is copious drinking or drug use to try to forget everything they say and that you actually know anyone so oblivious. Which is why I recommend we make the list of things you don’t talk about in mixed company kids/pets (it should really be first), sex, politics, and religion. Actually, kids/pets should replace sex. How do you know who is DTF if you can’t ask what sort of freaky shit strangers are into?

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Posted by on June 18, 2012 in Uncategorized


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Wednesday Breaktime of Love

So I’ve been wanting to start a weekly Wednesday feature where I talk about commercials that deserve to be singled out for one reason or another. But I didn’t know what to call it…and I still don’t. I was thinking like “Commercial Break Wednesdays” but I’m pretty sure these things have to be alliterative or you fail out of the internets. “Weekly Wednesday Marketing Bonanza”?

Ok, I’ll work on the name but I’m going to start the feature anyway.

I’m actually going to start on a positive note (QUELLE SUPRISE!) by saying that M&Ms has the best commercials on television right now. Every time I see that little red guy shake his naked buttski to “I’m sexy and I know it,” I gets me a case of the giggles. No doubt.

Now onto a commercial that is less giggle worthy and more instructional. This commercial teaches the very important lesson of identifying red flags and when to get a restraining order.

My first experience seeing this commercial went thusly:

The interior is a coffee shop and there’s an 800 number/website at the bottom of the screen. A woman walks up to the counter and the barista is just too hip for words. Huge Buddy Holly glasses with no lenses and hair plastered into some sort of pompadour disaster level hip. So the woman says,

“I’ll have -”

And mister no-lenses INTERRUPTS HER to say, “A soy mochalottaPBRcachino.” (I don’t speak hipster but I assume this is close enough). While he says this, he’s giving this look that is not so much “shy, goo-goo, gee you’re pretty” eyes so much as “I love you and how your skin would look on me” eyes.

At this point I no shit thought that there would be a record scratch and a narrator would say, “Are you too cool to be non-threatening? Need help getting your hipster penis wet? Call LiveLinks or go to or or…” you get the picture. I assumed this so hard my brain actually showed that scenario to my eyes for several seconds before it was snapped back in a weird psychedelic mind blip where my brain gave a 404 error and we had to reboot and try to process this new, incomprehensible reality.

The commercial actually goes on to have the girl say:

“Yeah how did you-” interrupted

“That’s what you got last time.”

“And you-” interrupted AGAIN! Bitches love being interrupted

“Remembered, yeah.”

And then the woman walks out with a look that I interpreted as “I need to find a new coffee house cause CREEEEPYYYY, thankfully there’s another StarBucks across the street.” BUT NO! The narrator chimes in to say “Women love when you pay attention” so apparently that look was “My panties just dropped SO HARD THEY ARE IN CHINA NOW!” And then they shill for their dating website or whatever the hell it is they’re selling.

All I could think is that if this freaktastic interaction, which I’m pretty sure meets the legal requirements of menacing with intent to totally creep the fuck out, is the meaning of love that this company will teach you, they got into the wrong business. Unless serial killer matchmaking is a large, untapped market that watches a lot of daytime TNT programming. In which case I guess I’M the idiot. But they’re still sketch as hell.

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Posted by on June 13, 2012 in Uncategorized


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Posting Is Haaaaard, Which Is Why This Post Is Turrble.

Posting is haaaaard. I really don’t know what to talk about. Ummmmm, British Top Gear is on. This might be my favorite show that is currently being produced for television because it is awesome and also because everything else is terrible. I don’t want to sound all, “In my day shows had scripts and we walked up hill both ways in the snow with nothing but newspaper on our feet!” But seriously, TV these days makes me sad. Almost all of what’s on can be divided into three categories (in descending order of share of shows): reality shows that highlight how stupid, vain, and greedy people are; singing/dancing competitions (these are starting to make me angry with their ubiquity); or actually scripted shows that are written like ad copy from a less talented yet somehow more sexist, racist, and homophobic versions of Don Draper. I hear that the only place to find good shows are on the movie channels but I be broke so I wouldn’t know.

AND THAT’S ANOTHER THING! When did watching TV become so expensive? Does anyone but me remember why we started paying for cable? It was not just to get more channels, it was to get channels with no commercials. In “the good old days” the whole premise was that yes you were paying for something you could get for free but if you pay you get no ads, sorta like ad-free website subscriptions. And this was in a day when you had two commercials 15 minutes into a half hour show and four 30 second commercials between the end of one show and start of the next. I’m not making that up, my brother and I have a bunch of VHS tapes of old cartoons from when we were kids and that was the actual show-to-commercial ratio. There may have been more for prime time shows, but nothing near the 18 commercials for every 4 minutes of programming we have now. I realized how profound the difference when watching TV Land the other night, I had always wondered why their schedule had shows starting at 4:42 or 8:19 and I realized that scripts from the 80s and earlier for a 30 minute show were around 28 minutes and to accommodate the 20 minutes of commercials they sell for every 30 minutes of programming, the show run times become about 48 minutes. I also don’t really get why advertisers do this. My brother and I still remember the commercials we saw when we were kids; we can quote whole Lucky Charms commercials and recite the address to send our Kool-Aid points. But with 4,000 commercials inundating every viewer every hour, it just becomes a din of “ON SALE NOW” and promises of sex, success, and salvation. I tune most of it out and for shows I really like, I DVR it and skip the commercials. I think if I was given a survey on brands, I’d probably only know the ones I actually buy, but if I was given a survey of brands from 25ish years ago, I’d probably know any one that had a commercial on a channel I watched (so all of them).

I also blame that stupid digital conversion they (The Government? Corporations? The Free Masons? Same diff) foisted (didn’t know that was a real word until I typed it and spell check didn’t yell at me) on us. I remember this one time my brother and dad were at my parents’ house in Northern Virginia and the game they were showing on TV was the Redskins (LAAAAME foreskins BOOOOOO) game against someone else equally inconsequential, but by taking an old, small TV we had in the kitchen and putting it on a a ladder in the front yard, they managed to get the local broadcast from Baltimore, which was where the Giants (ALL HAIL THE WORLD CHAMPIONS) were playing. You can’t do that now. OH NO! If random dumbass rich local television guy decides we all have to watch the cricket finals instead of the Super Bowl, ain’t shit you can do thanks to the bullshit digital conversion. It was all a plot to keep information away from the common man and I’m pretty sure there was some classist bullshit there too(you need to buy new TVs if you want to get free channels because your TV doesn’t work anymore but if you want it to work you can also buy a converter, which costs money and you can buy from us, the ones who you would have to pay to get cable and doesn’t cable just make sense now? You should probably just pay us every month for cable and we’ll decide what you watch). The digital conversion still makes me so.fucking.angry. I just can’t even you guys, I swear I just can’t even anymore.

So to sum up: television is expensive, full of ads, and the programming is terrible (the internet without the anarchy). Yet I watch roughly 20 hours a day . So I’m dumb but I can recommend with full authority that everyone should watch British Top Gear on BBC America because I have sifted through all the crap to find this one shining gem of awesome. Now that I’ve endorsed it, it’ll totally get canceled. It’s also worth noting that BBC America has fewer commercials than most cable networks though FULL DISCLOSURE the BBC commercials are THE WORST. Oh and don’t get suckered into watching anything else produced by BBC because it is all terrible. If you don’t believe me, try to get through one episode of “No Kitchen Required” without wanting to re-declare the Revolutionary War so that you can go around punching brits and get a medal for it.

Oh and I don’t like to get too political on here, but it seems like a good opportunity to mention that if stuff like PIPA and SOPA become the law, then the internet will be the same as television: a million channels with nothing on, ads everywhere all the time, and a few rich guys deciding what watered-down drek we all get to view. I’d probably get sued for my “descriptive retelling” of the Super Bowl without the expressed written permission of the NFL. In other words, it would be bad m’kay so, you know, don’t encourage them (Law makers? Lobbyists? The Illuminati? Probably definitely the last one) or whatever.

Blahhhh. Not only is updating hard but talking about political issues that are six months old makes me feel dirty.

Need shower/nap/more British Top Gear. I always forever need more British Top Gear.


Posted by on June 11, 2012 in Uncategorized


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They Fucked With Fern Gully. Now It’s Personal.

I was watching FX the other day and the movie Avatar came on.  Now I had never seen Avatar because it looked like James Cameron took Fern Gully, cut it open, gutted it, and shoved some CGI where its soul used to be.  I liked Fern Gully when I was a kid.  No, fuck the haters, I fucking LOVED Fern Gully when I was a kid.  Saw it probably 100 times loved it.  So, just like with my other loved ones, I really didn’t want to watch it get decapitated and maimed on screen.  Also, I’ve never forgiven Mr. Cameron for the cinematic abortion Titanic (yes yes, the movie about the Titanic was an irredeemable disaster, irony, haha, let’s move on).

I was pretty sure I was right about Avatar (on account of I’m right about everything) but it was a Saturday afternoon, there was nothing on, I was interminably bored, and figured making fun of it might be more fun than pulling out my own fingernails.  Spoiler:  Watching this movie to make fun of it was only marginally more fun than pulling out my fingernails.

James Cameron clearly has the “Lucas Complex,” which is where someone was super good at making movies at one point and so is now given all the money they want and surrounded by sycophantic yes men and told that every idea they have is good, even the shitty ones (George Romero famously has it).  In music this is referred to as the “Clapton Complex.”  The studio should have fired Cameron and brought in Ridley Scott POST HASTE!  Or Sam Raimi, then it would have been funny too.

Within the first 20 minutes I spotted roughly 47 scientific impossibilities.  Heads up to aspiring film makers:  putting Sigourney Weaver in a white coat does not change the laws of the physical world and make anyone believe the sciencey sounding explanations you give for you plot holes.

Listing everything wrong with this movie would take longer than the stupid thing, but here is a list of the top terrible points of this terrible movie (or basically all the ones I wanted to type out):

Terrible Thing One:  When I saw the trailers I assumed the “avatars” were robots.  No no, that would make too much sense.  They are apparently actual biological creatures grown in a lab.  Now these creatures have all the physical traits of the things there bred from (humans and weird blue cat people) and since they have the capacity to move and talk and their hearts beat and shit, that means they have brains and nervous systems and all that other good stuff.  So how are they not sentient?  This leads to one of three conclusions:  the humans are possessing conscious, sentient beings and forcing them to act against their will (CREEEEEEPY); the avatars are brain dead, which leads to a host of problems with how they function when invaded by their human hijackers; or James Cameron is a massive dumbass.  And what is going on with the avatar body when the host mind is in the host body and vice versa?  Are they just starving and peeing themselves during the long intervals between visits?  As my brother said, “Interfacing with your flying butt monkey for life?  I’d like to see those lease terms.”  Though I guess you’d have to or you’d be sentencing your avatar to a soiled, painful, disgusting death.  I do like the part where the main character guy says, “Each human can only pair to one avatar and each avatar to one human because of bio something blah blah science stuff hehe.”  It was like the film was saying, “HAHA WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE’RE DOING HAHA”

Terrible Thing Two:  They called the not-so-subtle oil metaphor substance “unobtainium.”  Professional writers came up with that.  They got paid money and were not fired on the spot for that piece of pure inspirational genius.  Fuck the world.

Terrible Thing Three:  The “film makers” (they are film makers in that they made a film, just like any America’s Funniest Home Videos submitter) seemed to want to cram so much new age, pseudo spirituality and allegorical meaning into this huge pile of suck that everything comes off as hasty and with no real thought behind it, a true feat in a movie that’s longer than my dick.  One of the people I live with got sucked in about halfway through the movie and pointed out, “I bet a lot of people watch this and go “THAT’S TERRIBLE” but when stuff like this happens in real life they don’t realize it’s the same thing.  That might be because, instead of focusing on one instance of imperialism being terrible, this film decided to go through every bad thing that any culture has ever done to another culture or the environment since the history of everything.”  Which is too true, too true.  If James Cameron had wanted so badly to show the dangers of corporations, imperialism, and/or environmental irresponsibility, he could have made several movies dealing each with one instance of that actually happening instead of one movie that is an allegory so large, encompassing so many events, it loses all message and makes it impossible for the viewer to relate to any actual event they witness.  I felt like there was a second narrative that went, “First we start at the dawn of man when we rolled over other species to grow our civilization and then America happened and also other countries that took land from indigenous people and oh did I mention the rain forest and also that corporations are bad…”  and so on and on and on.  But whatever, WIDE SWEEPING ALLEGORIES FTW!

Terrible Thing Four:  Those gross flagella looking things coming out of their hair that they attach to other thing’s flagella.  Ew.  Does the entire global population of that planet need a prescription for Valtrex because that shit don’t look sanitary.  Which brings me to…

Terrible Thing Five:  So they’re supposed to like mate with some dragons I guess and you choose them and they choose you and once you are bonded you’re bonded for life…unless it’s inconvenient for the script.  Main character guy gets his blue dragon thing and they are all “BEST BUDS FOR LYFE!!!!! (Sorry I tried to kill you that one time bro).” But then he needs to mate (?) with one of the big red dragon variety that only four blue cat people have been able to break in the history of this planet to get the blue cat people to come back because this time will be different baby, I’ve changed! I swear! so he’s like, “Yeah, I’ve only been doing this whole blue cat person thing for 3 months and my small blue dragon guy almost killed me, but evs, it’ll totes be no problem.”  Then he mates (again ?) with the red thing in a scene that kinda says everything about the caliber of this movie.  See, like I said before, his little blue dragon guy almost killed him, and he’s been training for three months to learn what these blue cat people learn over decades, so when he decides to do what all but four other blue cat people ever have failed to do, he just flies over it (with some bullshit line about “if he’s the biggest thing in the sky, why would he ever look up?”), jumps on its back, and then the camera goes to black and it’s the next scene.  BRILLIANT!  Can’t figure out how to get out of this inconceivably massive plot hole you’ve dug?  Just cut to black and be like “AND THEN EVERYTHING WORKED OUT YAY!!!!!!”  And what happened to his little blue dragon buddy?  They were mated for life!  Blue cat people possessed by imperialist soldiers are such cheating assholes.  Don’t worry little buddy, you’ll find someone better.  You need to drop that zero and get you a hero!

Terrible Thing Six:  In the first attack scene, the blue cat people’s weapons were shrugged off like ants spitting at a Doberman, but next attack they are fucking up the invading forces with the same weapons they tried to use the first time…somehow.  Oh and how dickish is it for the humans (and avatar-humans, don’t call them “blue cat fuckers,” that’s racist) to decide they would be the only ones that get guns while the full-blooded blue cat people only get bows and arrows, dragons, and strong language?  Answer:  intensely dickish.

Terrible Thing Seven:  Humans can’t breathe on this planet.  The planet has plants and mammals and reptiles and all sorts of shit we have here on earth, but an atmosphere that is completely toxic to humans?  How could that possibly be?  Oh right, because it makes it more convenient to kill the big boss at the end.  You can’t arrow King Koopa like some punk ass goomba, you gotta throw him in the fire pit…er suffocate him with magical poison air.

Terrible Thing Eight:  The whole planet is connected like the internet and so…resurrection?  Hippie.Fucking.Nonesense.  “We’re all connected mannnn!  And like the answers all lie in nature and we should totally believe in any superstition that has some sort of white guilt associated with it.”  This is the same bullshit that gets people to buy magnet bracelets to cure their cancer or believe that pot cures every fucking thing ever and not just the few specific things it actually helps just like any other medicine.  What?  You haven’t heard?  Pot is not some magical elixir that will not make you live forever?  Shocking Mr. Hippie I know, but you can still enjoy getting high, it’s ok.  Actually, if you believe in glowing trees that turn people into blue cats that can breathe poison you should probably lay off the drugs.  And that vortex nonsense?  I wonder if it’s like other vortexes and I can at least get a t-shirt for pretending I buy that a geologist found a place that makes you look taller in pictures as long as you take a picture of someone else who is taller.

Terrible Thing Nine:  Three fucking hour run time.  I mean, what the ever-living fuck?  With all the terribleness contained in this movie, what didn’t make it in?

“We’re running a little long, so let’s cut all the scenes that explain things and also the ones that make the characters likable.”  — James Cameron on editing.

I feel really bad for the extra whose one scene got cut.  “They kept 47,000 hours of blue butt monkeys riding dragons, but my line explaining why their arrows work now got cut?!  Fuck you James Cameron!”  Fuck him indeed.  Don’t worry random extra, there will be other, hopefully better movies.  Besides, with a cast of 588,000, this probably wasn’t your big break.

I’m sure I could go on, but 1,800 words are more than this disaster of a movie ever really deserved.

In conclusion, I am not speaking to Hollywood right now.  How could it let this happen to us?  Madagascar 3 and Brave better be unbelievably fucking excellent or I’m breaking up with you Hollywood.  For good!  I mean it this time!  Get your fucking act together!  Oh and also never let James Cameron near a film project or Michael Bay near a fond childhood memory.  Cool?  Kthanxbai.

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Posted by on June 4, 2012 in Uncategorized


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