Well after a month hiatus I'm back. Funny how vacation throws off your schedule for quite a while. Nobody wants to live an unfulfilled life, that's what bucket lists are for. Gives you a sense of accomplishment and bragging rights when you're stuck in a nursing home with the other geezers. I decided to take some time and right up my own list because its never too early to start.
-Bitch slap Shia Lebouf, Robert Pattinson, and Will Ferrell like Moe used to do in the 3 Stooges
-Make a super Oreo out of an entire pack of Double Stuff Oreos and devour it.
-Swim in a pool filled with a gin martini. The olives should be as big as my head. A pool full of beer will suffice if a martini won't work on a logistical level
-Destroy REO Speedwagon
-Read entire Uncanny X-men series from start to finish over the course of a week. Yes even the terrible Austin run
-Determine once and for all if Nancy Pelosi's vagina can sharpen a pencil. Most theories and scientific opinions say yes but we need empirical data
-Defend against a home invasion with an actual blunderbuss
-Own Johnny Weissmuller's skull
-Have an honest to god one week bender in Vegas
-Watch seasons 3-9 of the Simpsons in one week. I'll need a few friends and plenty of beer)
-Unlock the mystery of why homosexuals find Dom so appealing in a suit and why everyone thinks he's Puerto Rican.
-Destroy REO Speedwagon again
-Get the chance to ride around on the chair at a Bar Mitzvah
-Take down an African warlord with nothing more than a pocket knife, 4 rubber bands, a lead pipe, 2 light bulbs, and an anti-tank gun that fires depleted Uranium bullets. Oh and of course my trademark moxie and devil may care attitude
-Ride around a huge go kart track with no less than 7 of my closest friends, drunk, and launching fireworks at each other.
-Fire Kramer out of a cannon
-Best my mortal enemy in battle then devour his heart to gain his courage. Will probably knock this one off shortly after the REO Speedwagon items.
-Hit a small child in the face with a waffle when start crying in a restaurant.
-Make a grown man cry solely by yelling at him for 27 minutes
-Witness a man eat his own head
-Get someon to legally change their name to Joey Joe Joe Shabaloo. Preferably Flynn.
-Marry a woman who can name every X-man in order of joining the team.
-Poke some poor people with a sharp stick from the comfort of my Rolls Royce
-Fend off an attack from a grizzly bear by punching it in the face.
-Make the shocking confession on my deathbed that it was I, Marty, who was both the Zodiac Killer and D.B. Cooper.
Now of course this is only a partial list. New ones are added as I see fit.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
A little more of this and that
Free credit report.com should have had Totalitar or possibly Anal Cunt as their new spokesband. I'm sure a rousing rendition of So I Noticed You're Gay or You Look Adopted would have sent people flocking to the website.
I don't think its too much to ask that my coworker add an R to the end of his last name changing it from Grube to Gruber and allowing me to call him Hans.
I predict the movie Vampires Suck will be an Oscar winning movie with its subtle satire, well written jokes, and its timeless and completely not cashing in on a fad storytelling.
When are the handicapped going to realize we'll all like them alot more if they just give up the primo parking spots.
Always remember that you could be wearing a shirt that says I Heart Clubbing Baby Seals or be completely naked but if you show up to dinner wearing a monocle, top hat, and pocket watch, you'll be the classy toast of the party.
Why hasn't anyone had a tattoo on their ass of the classic punchline, "Rectum? Damn near killed 'em."
I find that Windows commercial where the kid is sitting outside his dorm room watching TV and waiting for his roommate to be done plowing a chick to be quite funny. Rather than not be a total douchebag cock block who's complaining about how he doesn't get to watch a shitty television show, the pecker head should, oh I don't know, try meeting some girls so he can touch his first boob and not spend all day in front of his computer browsing 4chan.
Rage fact of the day: The people who come up with those contemptible Olive Garden commercials will make more money in one year than most of us will make in the next 8.
Me and Chris once watched the entire 21 minute episode of Everybody Loves Hypnotoad and loved every minute of it. Didn't hurt we were pretty tuned on Margaritas at the time.
When all these people post that stupid song lyric about pretending airplanes are shooting stars on Facebook, I wonder if they consider the grave ramifications of a plane instantly turning into pure plasma. Not only would everyone on the plane be instantly vaporized in a horrible fashion but having such close proximity to the thermonuclear fusion would probably destroy Earth within moments. So people who want planes to be stars for the mere purpose of wishing are really quite selfish since it means an end to life as we know it.
Once at my days in Catholic school we had a test that was one question, explain what Pentecost is. My buddy at the time wrote a rather poignant dissertation about how it was when Hitler killed all the Jews. He did not score well.
Vacation next week. I'll see what I can do about hammering out another post before then. Probably be a review of The Expendables.
I don't think its too much to ask that my coworker add an R to the end of his last name changing it from Grube to Gruber and allowing me to call him Hans.
I predict the movie Vampires Suck will be an Oscar winning movie with its subtle satire, well written jokes, and its timeless and completely not cashing in on a fad storytelling.
When are the handicapped going to realize we'll all like them alot more if they just give up the primo parking spots.
Always remember that you could be wearing a shirt that says I Heart Clubbing Baby Seals or be completely naked but if you show up to dinner wearing a monocle, top hat, and pocket watch, you'll be the classy toast of the party.
Why hasn't anyone had a tattoo on their ass of the classic punchline, "Rectum? Damn near killed 'em."
I find that Windows commercial where the kid is sitting outside his dorm room watching TV and waiting for his roommate to be done plowing a chick to be quite funny. Rather than not be a total douchebag cock block who's complaining about how he doesn't get to watch a shitty television show, the pecker head should, oh I don't know, try meeting some girls so he can touch his first boob and not spend all day in front of his computer browsing 4chan.
Rage fact of the day: The people who come up with those contemptible Olive Garden commercials will make more money in one year than most of us will make in the next 8.
Me and Chris once watched the entire 21 minute episode of Everybody Loves Hypnotoad and loved every minute of it. Didn't hurt we were pretty tuned on Margaritas at the time.
When all these people post that stupid song lyric about pretending airplanes are shooting stars on Facebook, I wonder if they consider the grave ramifications of a plane instantly turning into pure plasma. Not only would everyone on the plane be instantly vaporized in a horrible fashion but having such close proximity to the thermonuclear fusion would probably destroy Earth within moments. So people who want planes to be stars for the mere purpose of wishing are really quite selfish since it means an end to life as we know it.
Once at my days in Catholic school we had a test that was one question, explain what Pentecost is. My buddy at the time wrote a rather poignant dissertation about how it was when Hitler killed all the Jews. He did not score well.
Vacation next week. I'll see what I can do about hammering out another post before then. Probably be a review of The Expendables.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Comic Con season is upon us
Ah Summer. It’s a magical time of the year. Cons: Hot as hell, those annoying school kids are now free to roam until September, and chances are this pale Irish body I inhabit will be burnt to a crisp by the sun. Pros: Kick ass concert season begins, women everywhere strike another blow for female equality by wearing as little as possible, and the Philly and Baltimore comic cons are held. Having attended a few shows, I can proudly say that I am con tested (I am still not mother approved, however). As such I thought I'd do a little public service and post my proven comic con tips for getting the most out of your trip.
1.Work in teams. Bring someone with you, seems pretty simple. Two people can cover more ground than one. Besides, you’ll need someone watching your back if you hit on the wrong girl and the body builder cosplaying the Hulk comes running after you.
2.Pay a small minority child to act as your pack mule. If you’re like me, you buy a lot of comics and other various objects and that can be quite burdensome to lug around. Children are cheap to hire and they get all the back pain that was meant for you.
3.Bring your own small child with you. Now this can be a double edged sword. First the pros. Unless they’re like me, most people will allow a child to pass by them when looking through bins. Use this to your advantage to get to the good comics. Also have the kid get sketches from artists for you. They’re more likely to put more effort into it for a kid than an adult. Casually mention that you’re so happy little Jimmy was feeling well enough to leave the hospital to see their favorite comic artist and you’re looking at a full body color sketch for dirt cheap. The cons. Kids have shorter legs and can’t walk as fast as you need them to. Make them wear suspenders so you can carry them around like a piece of luggage. Also kids tend to whine a lot. “I’m hungry. My feet hurt. When are you going to let me go back to my family, mister?” Be prepared to deal with this the entire day.
Protip – Combine tips 2 and 3 for maximum effectiveness
4.You’ll most likely see a few people wandering around with carts with up to 3 or 4 boxes of comics on them. These people are your mortal enemy. They brought all these comics to get signed and will tie up a line for a while because the artists and writers are usually too polite to just start making the books out to Ebay Winner. My tip is carry a screwdriver with you. If you ever see one of these carts unattended casually walk over to it and remove a wheel or too. Let’s see that asshole carry all that shit around now.
5.Unless it’s a special issue, don’t pay more than a buck a comic. Oh sure, you’ll see plenty of assholes trying to gouge you for $2-$5 an issue or more for key ones. Point and laugh as you pass these idiots. Don’t be afraid to torch their stand either if they give you lip. This kind of discretionary buying will send a message to other vendors, that is, if the plumes of smoke haven’t already.
6.Many celebrities attend comic conventions to meet with their adoring fans…and their wallets. Most feel that their signature is worth 20-50+ dollars with equal sums for pictures with them. Outrageous. There’s no way I’m paying Edward James Olmos $35 to sign a DVD cover. Here’s a great way to get around paying. Hang around your beloved celebrity within earshot. When you hear them mention they’re going to the bathroom, run faster than a basketball fan from Ron Artest and beat them there. Proceed to remove all toilet paper from every stall. Once they’ve befouled the bathroom and realize there’s no TP, you’ve got them by the short and curlys. What’s that, Sir Patrick Stewart? You need some toilet paper? Sure, no problem. That’ll be one signed copy of Masterminds, please. It’s best if your partner from tip #1 is of the opposite sex thereby allowing you to get any celebrities autograph.
7. There will be cosplayers at conventions. Some are pretty good, most are mediocre to terrible. Whatever you do, don’t make fun of the bad ones to their face/mask. The last thing you need is a 324lb Green Lantern barreling through the crowds and chasing after you like you’re a deep fried chocolate covered bacon wrapped twinkie.
8. Cons generally last between 5-8 hours so you’ll need to make sure you have a quick pick me up when your energy starts to wane. Make sure you have a chocolate bar, soda, dangerous methamphetamines or energy drink to give you that extra oomph you need to make it to closing. If you dress up like the Flash and do some blow, everyone will think you’re just in character.
9. Chances are there will be a bunch of small children roaming around the show floor. Don’t feel bad in the slightest about pushing them out of your way. They need to learn proper crowd etiquette some way and its obvious by them being in your way that the parents aren’t doing their job.
These are just some basic pointers to help you with your first comic con. You’ll develop your own methods and tactics after you attend a few. The most important thing is to make sure you have fun at the expense of others.
1.Work in teams. Bring someone with you, seems pretty simple. Two people can cover more ground than one. Besides, you’ll need someone watching your back if you hit on the wrong girl and the body builder cosplaying the Hulk comes running after you.
2.Pay a small minority child to act as your pack mule. If you’re like me, you buy a lot of comics and other various objects and that can be quite burdensome to lug around. Children are cheap to hire and they get all the back pain that was meant for you.
3.Bring your own small child with you. Now this can be a double edged sword. First the pros. Unless they’re like me, most people will allow a child to pass by them when looking through bins. Use this to your advantage to get to the good comics. Also have the kid get sketches from artists for you. They’re more likely to put more effort into it for a kid than an adult. Casually mention that you’re so happy little Jimmy was feeling well enough to leave the hospital to see their favorite comic artist and you’re looking at a full body color sketch for dirt cheap. The cons. Kids have shorter legs and can’t walk as fast as you need them to. Make them wear suspenders so you can carry them around like a piece of luggage. Also kids tend to whine a lot. “I’m hungry. My feet hurt. When are you going to let me go back to my family, mister?” Be prepared to deal with this the entire day.
Protip – Combine tips 2 and 3 for maximum effectiveness
4.You’ll most likely see a few people wandering around with carts with up to 3 or 4 boxes of comics on them. These people are your mortal enemy. They brought all these comics to get signed and will tie up a line for a while because the artists and writers are usually too polite to just start making the books out to Ebay Winner. My tip is carry a screwdriver with you. If you ever see one of these carts unattended casually walk over to it and remove a wheel or too. Let’s see that asshole carry all that shit around now.
5.Unless it’s a special issue, don’t pay more than a buck a comic. Oh sure, you’ll see plenty of assholes trying to gouge you for $2-$5 an issue or more for key ones. Point and laugh as you pass these idiots. Don’t be afraid to torch their stand either if they give you lip. This kind of discretionary buying will send a message to other vendors, that is, if the plumes of smoke haven’t already.
6.Many celebrities attend comic conventions to meet with their adoring fans…and their wallets. Most feel that their signature is worth 20-50+ dollars with equal sums for pictures with them. Outrageous. There’s no way I’m paying Edward James Olmos $35 to sign a DVD cover. Here’s a great way to get around paying. Hang around your beloved celebrity within earshot. When you hear them mention they’re going to the bathroom, run faster than a basketball fan from Ron Artest and beat them there. Proceed to remove all toilet paper from every stall. Once they’ve befouled the bathroom and realize there’s no TP, you’ve got them by the short and curlys. What’s that, Sir Patrick Stewart? You need some toilet paper? Sure, no problem. That’ll be one signed copy of Masterminds, please. It’s best if your partner from tip #1 is of the opposite sex thereby allowing you to get any celebrities autograph.
7. There will be cosplayers at conventions. Some are pretty good, most are mediocre to terrible. Whatever you do, don’t make fun of the bad ones to their face/mask. The last thing you need is a 324lb Green Lantern barreling through the crowds and chasing after you like you’re a deep fried chocolate covered bacon wrapped twinkie.
8. Cons generally last between 5-8 hours so you’ll need to make sure you have a quick pick me up when your energy starts to wane. Make sure you have a chocolate bar, soda, dangerous methamphetamines or energy drink to give you that extra oomph you need to make it to closing. If you dress up like the Flash and do some blow, everyone will think you’re just in character.
9. Chances are there will be a bunch of small children roaming around the show floor. Don’t feel bad in the slightest about pushing them out of your way. They need to learn proper crowd etiquette some way and its obvious by them being in your way that the parents aren’t doing their job.
These are just some basic pointers to help you with your first comic con. You’ll develop your own methods and tactics after you attend a few. The most important thing is to make sure you have fun at the expense of others.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Time was we called this a two'fer
This was a rare week for me. I actually saw TWO movies in the theater. A good time was had by all. At least I think everyone had a good time. I must have been mixing a little too much Dayquil and Tequila because they’re both running together. Not a problem though, I shall press onward with this week’s review as best I can.
Preception
I’ll just note at this point if you haven’t seen Predators or Inception that this review will contain spoilers as large as they are bulimic. So the movie starts off with Leonardo Dicaprio and my buddy from Splice Adrian Brody free falling and talking about ideas being the most infectious thing there is. Once they safely land in a Japanese restaurant they proceed to try and steal secrets from the dream of Danny Trejo. Joseph Gordon Levitt shows up dressed as THE Cobra Commander to offer support to Leo and Brody. Unfortunately for our heroes, Mr. Trejo realizes that he’s dreaming because nobody can have a nose as large as Brody’s in real life. Everyone is then woken up by that kid from Mars Attacks and they discover that they’re on a jungle planet being hunted by Predators.
That annoying girl from Juno turns out to be an expert sniper working for Mossad who can sometimes control the world around her because she’s also a dream architect. The biggest badass of them all falls from the sky, Topher Grace and there are disposable stereotypes to round out the cast. In order to leave the planet, our group has to evade the Predators, various alien creatures, and then invade the dreams of head Predator Cillian Murphy to plant the thought that he should return them to Earth. Cillian’s Predator has a heart wrenching story about his Predator father being disappointed in him for trying to be like him or not being like him, I forget which.
Our merry band of misfits trek through the jungle fighting Predator dogs, pretty flowers, and the incessant rambling of Juno. They stumble upon the Predators’ camp and are attacked except for Joseph Gordon Levitt who they recognize as a fellow alien from 3rd Rock From the Sun. Everyone runs away or dies and then our group comes across Laurence Fishburne. Well Leo still has beef with him over the last 2 matrix movies and decides to infect his mind with an idea, promptly causing him to go crazy. The Predators attack again and, once again, everyone runs and a few die. Leo spins a top a few times before he Jack rabbits. After finding the Scarecrow Predator, the crew puts him to sleep with a combination of roofies, liquor, and the latest Will Ferrell movie. With him sleeping as soundly as David Hasselhoff surrounded by his German guards, the third act begins.
Everyone is now in a city. Things are going well trying to convince Cillian to get them back home when Danny Glover starts chasing them. They decide the best way to get away from him is to go asleep and be in a dream of a dream. Now they’re in a fancy hotel! Not satisfied with their setting yet again, Leo divas out and makes everyone go to sleep again (dream in a dream in a dream) so they can all go to the set of a James Bond movie. Extremely pissed he’s been saddled with Juno for most of the movie, Topher decides to stop being nice and go all serial killer on her. At this point someone decides to put the hotel in a tumble dryer and Levitt and Grace spin around, dancing and trading blows. Back on the set of James Bond there’s some skiing, explosions, and someone hits a tree, just like a Kennedy family reunion (Heyoooo). Leo continues to spin his top and the guy with a British accent kills some people. Redeye Predator has an epiphany to help the humans and everyone wakes up. Then everyone wakes up again. Yet again, everyone wakes up so now they’re back on the jungle planet. Unfortunately, the Predators’ ship has exploded because one of them forgot to turn off the coffee pot so everyone decides to spend the rest of their time wandering the world.
This will be the first chance I’ll have to use my new grading system suggested to me by Nick. I give Predators 4 segments out of a 5 segment Human Centipede. Pretty much what I expected and a worthy successor to the Predator franchise. Had the main character been recast it may have received the 5th segment. Not really against Brody but he just isn’t meant for those kind of badass roles. Inception gets a whopping 5 Human Centipede segments out of 5. The premise is pretty original despite borrowing a little from Dark City and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s well filmed and, most importantly, it keeps you entertained. Best heist movie I’ve seen since the Sting. Oh and if someone tells you they had trouble following what’s going on, they’re an idiot. It’s pretty easy to follow unless you have Velcro shoes and can count to potato.
Preception
I’ll just note at this point if you haven’t seen Predators or Inception that this review will contain spoilers as large as they are bulimic. So the movie starts off with Leonardo Dicaprio and my buddy from Splice Adrian Brody free falling and talking about ideas being the most infectious thing there is. Once they safely land in a Japanese restaurant they proceed to try and steal secrets from the dream of Danny Trejo. Joseph Gordon Levitt shows up dressed as THE Cobra Commander to offer support to Leo and Brody. Unfortunately for our heroes, Mr. Trejo realizes that he’s dreaming because nobody can have a nose as large as Brody’s in real life. Everyone is then woken up by that kid from Mars Attacks and they discover that they’re on a jungle planet being hunted by Predators.
That annoying girl from Juno turns out to be an expert sniper working for Mossad who can sometimes control the world around her because she’s also a dream architect. The biggest badass of them all falls from the sky, Topher Grace and there are disposable stereotypes to round out the cast. In order to leave the planet, our group has to evade the Predators, various alien creatures, and then invade the dreams of head Predator Cillian Murphy to plant the thought that he should return them to Earth. Cillian’s Predator has a heart wrenching story about his Predator father being disappointed in him for trying to be like him or not being like him, I forget which.
Our merry band of misfits trek through the jungle fighting Predator dogs, pretty flowers, and the incessant rambling of Juno. They stumble upon the Predators’ camp and are attacked except for Joseph Gordon Levitt who they recognize as a fellow alien from 3rd Rock From the Sun. Everyone runs away or dies and then our group comes across Laurence Fishburne. Well Leo still has beef with him over the last 2 matrix movies and decides to infect his mind with an idea, promptly causing him to go crazy. The Predators attack again and, once again, everyone runs and a few die. Leo spins a top a few times before he Jack rabbits. After finding the Scarecrow Predator, the crew puts him to sleep with a combination of roofies, liquor, and the latest Will Ferrell movie. With him sleeping as soundly as David Hasselhoff surrounded by his German guards, the third act begins.
Everyone is now in a city. Things are going well trying to convince Cillian to get them back home when Danny Glover starts chasing them. They decide the best way to get away from him is to go asleep and be in a dream of a dream. Now they’re in a fancy hotel! Not satisfied with their setting yet again, Leo divas out and makes everyone go to sleep again (dream in a dream in a dream) so they can all go to the set of a James Bond movie. Extremely pissed he’s been saddled with Juno for most of the movie, Topher decides to stop being nice and go all serial killer on her. At this point someone decides to put the hotel in a tumble dryer and Levitt and Grace spin around, dancing and trading blows. Back on the set of James Bond there’s some skiing, explosions, and someone hits a tree, just like a Kennedy family reunion (Heyoooo). Leo continues to spin his top and the guy with a British accent kills some people. Redeye Predator has an epiphany to help the humans and everyone wakes up. Then everyone wakes up again. Yet again, everyone wakes up so now they’re back on the jungle planet. Unfortunately, the Predators’ ship has exploded because one of them forgot to turn off the coffee pot so everyone decides to spend the rest of their time wandering the world.
This will be the first chance I’ll have to use my new grading system suggested to me by Nick. I give Predators 4 segments out of a 5 segment Human Centipede. Pretty much what I expected and a worthy successor to the Predator franchise. Had the main character been recast it may have received the 5th segment. Not really against Brody but he just isn’t meant for those kind of badass roles. Inception gets a whopping 5 Human Centipede segments out of 5. The premise is pretty original despite borrowing a little from Dark City and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s well filmed and, most importantly, it keeps you entertained. Best heist movie I’ve seen since the Sting. Oh and if someone tells you they had trouble following what’s going on, they’re an idiot. It’s pretty easy to follow unless you have Velcro shoes and can count to potato.
Friday, July 16, 2010
An Evening in Philly
Due to a scheduling conflict, this weeks review of Inception has been postponed. I offer my hereto unknown trip to Philly as a consolation prize. A couple weeks ago I had an idea that I would go down to Flynn’s in Philly for a surprise visit. After an aggravating drive down and yelling at every man, woman, child, and elderly person I saw, I finally made it to his apartment. Time to let the drinking begin! Unfortunately I happened to pick the wrong Saturday to visit him as he and his girlfriend decided to go to Ocean City, MD that weekend. *Gasp* Whatever should I do? Well I wasn’t about to waste a trip down to Philly, let alone deal with the surely still horrendous traffic at 7:30 in the evening. Fuck it, I said, I’m going to Eulogy Belgian Ale House and see what mischief I can dig up for myself. As my grandmother used to say oh so politically incorrectly, “I was free, white and 21.”
A brisk walk, a short subway ride, and 13 begging bums later, I had arrived. The place was dead, as most bars are until 9 or so. “Barkeep! A Lager and keep ‘em coming,” I said as I plopped my fabulously sculpted ass on a barstool. I scanned the bar in a vain attempt to see if there was anyone I knew. When I got to the guy sitting closest to me I stopped. Something about him was awfully familiar, couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I drank about half of my beer pondering where on Earth I could have possibly seen him. Then it hit me like an out of control Georgian luger. It was Richard Dawson. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, nearly falling off my stool. I slammed back the rest of my Lager, regained my composure, and walked up to the world’s greatest game show host. “Excuse me, sir, but are you Richard Dawson?” “Why yes I am.” “Well it is an honor to meet you sir. Can I buy you a drink?” “Well that’s nice of you to say that, son. And I’ve never turned down a free drink. What’s your name?”
So there we sat, drinking while he regaled me with tales from his career such as how he used to get handjobs from Phyllis Diller on air during the Match Game, when he had a fist fight with Orson Welles over a game of Scrabble, and when he and Charles Nelson Reilly did PCP and threw a police car through a pawn shop window. All the laughing and beer let nature take its course and I went to the pisser. Coming back from the can, I had to rub my eyes. Surely the man walking through the front door was not Jeff Anderson AKA Randal from Clerks. Sure as shit, it was. Well I was already drinking with one celebrity so why not make it two? “Mr. Anderson, my name is Marty and I would be honored if you would come have a drink with me and Richard Dawson.” He probably thought I was just some drunk nut until he saw Mr. Dawson. “Holy Jesus on a crapper, that IS Richard Dawson!” A pitcher later and we’re back to drinking, talking, and laughing. Turns out the reason Jeff was at Eulogy was because he was meeting his good friend Val Kilmer for drinks. Ten minutes later and our little group grows to four.
At this point me and Rich are pushing 6 drinks a piece and Jeff and Val are pounding them away. We notice the bar still isn’t that hopping and it’s almost quarter after 10. “By Odin’s fucking beard, we need some fresh blood in this place,” exclaimed Rich as he pulled out his phone. 20 minutes later and Ryan Reynolds and Robert Downey Jr expand our group by 2. Time for some car bombs. Kilmer was the slowest so he had to pay. Pansy. A 3 wise men and a Kamakazi later and it was time for us to do some bar crawling. We stumble out into the night and found ourselves a hole in the wall bar to wet our whistles. Robert managed to pick up a hooker on the way as well. After taking over the bar, it doesn’t take us long to realize the guy in the dimly lit corner is none other than Mel Gibson. Turns out with all the recent scandals going on he just wanted to disappear for a bit. “Pull that stick out of your ass and drink with us you Christ hugger,” says Mr. Reynolds. And our group adds yet another to our roster. Some various things I overheard.
“No, no, yeah, well you’d be surprised. Affleck had 4 gerbils up there. Kevin had no idea how he was going to shoot around that.”
“Alanis Morissette? Doesn’t shave a thing. It was like she had Pam Grier’s afro in her pants.”
“You’d be surprised how many wives wanted to add 50 seconds to my clock, if you know what I mean.”
“Well I decided to shave my beard after people kept mistaking me for the Geico caveman.”
“Honest to God, John Favreau has a Prince Albert. He smacked Terrance Howard with it when he wanted more money.”
Somehow Christian Bale and James Caan showed up somewhere in here. Another round of car bombs and it was off to another bar, this time Sugar Moms. We ditched Mel when he saw some jewelry stores and started shouting that the Jews were responsible for his wife taping their conversations. Not sure where he ended up that night.
Now Sugar Moms is where things started to go downhill. We apparently liquored the narcotic sobriety out of Downey and he started doing blow off his hooker’s ass. He then called Edward Norton and laughed at him for 5 minutes about not being recast as the Hulk. Caan became enraged when he didn’t get a turn with the lady of the evening and glass jawed her. So Caan and Downey start fighting and get thrown out. Reynolds and me cleaned the floor with Kilmer and Bale at bubble hockey (I made sure the Canadian was on my team). Val and Christian start arguing about who was the better Batman and decide the only way to settle the dispute is to see who can throw their homemade Pabst Blue Ribbon can batarangs the farthest. One crappily made batarang to a bouncer’s head later and they’re out. Anderson was playing Ms. Pacman and after the machine ate his last quarter he put his fist through the screen. Dawson, Reynolds, and I grab him and run out of the bar, bouncers in tow. After losing them, we rushed Jeff to the ER where we were reunited with Robert who was OD’ing.
After the docs stitch Jeff back together and Rich stole 3 vials of morphine, we headed back to Eulogy for a quick nightcap. Reynolds puked out the cab’s window and thus had to pay for the ride. A glass of Baileys each and it was time for us to call it an evening. Richard Dawson thanked me for the kick ass evening and told me to look him up the next time I was in California. He took Jeff with him since he passed out. Heavy drinking and sever loss of blood make strange bedfellows. Me and Reynolds shared a cab and he got me a room at the hotel he was staying at with instructions to look him up as well should I ever find myself in California. And that ladies and gentlemen, is the greatest night of drinking I have ever had.
A brisk walk, a short subway ride, and 13 begging bums later, I had arrived. The place was dead, as most bars are until 9 or so. “Barkeep! A Lager and keep ‘em coming,” I said as I plopped my fabulously sculpted ass on a barstool. I scanned the bar in a vain attempt to see if there was anyone I knew. When I got to the guy sitting closest to me I stopped. Something about him was awfully familiar, couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I drank about half of my beer pondering where on Earth I could have possibly seen him. Then it hit me like an out of control Georgian luger. It was Richard Dawson. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, nearly falling off my stool. I slammed back the rest of my Lager, regained my composure, and walked up to the world’s greatest game show host. “Excuse me, sir, but are you Richard Dawson?” “Why yes I am.” “Well it is an honor to meet you sir. Can I buy you a drink?” “Well that’s nice of you to say that, son. And I’ve never turned down a free drink. What’s your name?”
So there we sat, drinking while he regaled me with tales from his career such as how he used to get handjobs from Phyllis Diller on air during the Match Game, when he had a fist fight with Orson Welles over a game of Scrabble, and when he and Charles Nelson Reilly did PCP and threw a police car through a pawn shop window. All the laughing and beer let nature take its course and I went to the pisser. Coming back from the can, I had to rub my eyes. Surely the man walking through the front door was not Jeff Anderson AKA Randal from Clerks. Sure as shit, it was. Well I was already drinking with one celebrity so why not make it two? “Mr. Anderson, my name is Marty and I would be honored if you would come have a drink with me and Richard Dawson.” He probably thought I was just some drunk nut until he saw Mr. Dawson. “Holy Jesus on a crapper, that IS Richard Dawson!” A pitcher later and we’re back to drinking, talking, and laughing. Turns out the reason Jeff was at Eulogy was because he was meeting his good friend Val Kilmer for drinks. Ten minutes later and our little group grows to four.
At this point me and Rich are pushing 6 drinks a piece and Jeff and Val are pounding them away. We notice the bar still isn’t that hopping and it’s almost quarter after 10. “By Odin’s fucking beard, we need some fresh blood in this place,” exclaimed Rich as he pulled out his phone. 20 minutes later and Ryan Reynolds and Robert Downey Jr expand our group by 2. Time for some car bombs. Kilmer was the slowest so he had to pay. Pansy. A 3 wise men and a Kamakazi later and it was time for us to do some bar crawling. We stumble out into the night and found ourselves a hole in the wall bar to wet our whistles. Robert managed to pick up a hooker on the way as well. After taking over the bar, it doesn’t take us long to realize the guy in the dimly lit corner is none other than Mel Gibson. Turns out with all the recent scandals going on he just wanted to disappear for a bit. “Pull that stick out of your ass and drink with us you Christ hugger,” says Mr. Reynolds. And our group adds yet another to our roster. Some various things I overheard.
“No, no, yeah, well you’d be surprised. Affleck had 4 gerbils up there. Kevin had no idea how he was going to shoot around that.”
“Alanis Morissette? Doesn’t shave a thing. It was like she had Pam Grier’s afro in her pants.”
“You’d be surprised how many wives wanted to add 50 seconds to my clock, if you know what I mean.”
“Well I decided to shave my beard after people kept mistaking me for the Geico caveman.”
“Honest to God, John Favreau has a Prince Albert. He smacked Terrance Howard with it when he wanted more money.”
Somehow Christian Bale and James Caan showed up somewhere in here. Another round of car bombs and it was off to another bar, this time Sugar Moms. We ditched Mel when he saw some jewelry stores and started shouting that the Jews were responsible for his wife taping their conversations. Not sure where he ended up that night.
Now Sugar Moms is where things started to go downhill. We apparently liquored the narcotic sobriety out of Downey and he started doing blow off his hooker’s ass. He then called Edward Norton and laughed at him for 5 minutes about not being recast as the Hulk. Caan became enraged when he didn’t get a turn with the lady of the evening and glass jawed her. So Caan and Downey start fighting and get thrown out. Reynolds and me cleaned the floor with Kilmer and Bale at bubble hockey (I made sure the Canadian was on my team). Val and Christian start arguing about who was the better Batman and decide the only way to settle the dispute is to see who can throw their homemade Pabst Blue Ribbon can batarangs the farthest. One crappily made batarang to a bouncer’s head later and they’re out. Anderson was playing Ms. Pacman and after the machine ate his last quarter he put his fist through the screen. Dawson, Reynolds, and I grab him and run out of the bar, bouncers in tow. After losing them, we rushed Jeff to the ER where we were reunited with Robert who was OD’ing.
After the docs stitch Jeff back together and Rich stole 3 vials of morphine, we headed back to Eulogy for a quick nightcap. Reynolds puked out the cab’s window and thus had to pay for the ride. A glass of Baileys each and it was time for us to call it an evening. Richard Dawson thanked me for the kick ass evening and told me to look him up the next time I was in California. He took Jeff with him since he passed out. Heavy drinking and sever loss of blood make strange bedfellows. Me and Reynolds shared a cab and he got me a room at the hotel he was staying at with instructions to look him up as well should I ever find myself in California. And that ladies and gentlemen, is the greatest night of drinking I have ever had.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Eclipse
Did anyone out there expect me not to do this one? If you didn’t, it’s okay. I assume it was because you thought I’d never see one of these movies without the safety of Rifftrax to protect my Medulla Oblongata. Well seeing as how I have an incredibly sexy and delicious reputation to keep and my utter hatred for giving certain franchises money, let alone my money, I didn’t actually see the film. I actually had Dora recap this epic of neutered fangs, claws, and testicles to me the day after she saw it. Now she loves the films and books no matter how hard I try to beat it out of her. Without further ado I give you Marty’s review of Dora’s recap of Eclipse.
So it starts out with Edward, aka Mr. Scowley Pants, and Jacob, aka Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd, having a competition to see who can squat and pee the farthest. The winner of this hallowed contest would have the hand of the beautiful and rabbit toothed Bella; the loser would be left to wallow in self pity and have the ability to not have a wispy, blank expressioned scarecrow hung around their neck like an albatross. Just before hackneyed characters get all cocked and loaded for their pissing contest, a goddamned Tyrannosaurus Rex comes smashing through the clearing in the woods with none other than the Robocop riding it. After explaining that, “Cain! Cain’s my problem!” he fires a rocket at Mr. Scowley Pants and Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd. The resulting explosion lodges a 4 foot long 2 foot wide log up Scowley’s rectum, there is much bleeding and screaming, and it damn near killed him. Fuzzybottom takes a nasty kabonk on the head. He becomes amnesiac and believes himself to be a grizzled gold prospecting coot who has a penchant for stamp collecting. Robocop kidnaps the blank sheet of paper known as Bella and rides off with a platoon of C.H.U.D.s, Cyberdyne Systems model T-100s, and the Crab people in tow.
Tree Rectum and Cooty VonCootenstein vow to rescue their turnip brained love interest for reasons neither can remember. Unable to move quickly due to his blockage, Scowley has to ride Fuzzybottom (in a totally non-gay way) across country in search of their paramour. They stop for nothing except a quick trip to the world’s largest nipple ring and for a Phish concert where everyone smells oddly like hamsters and patchouli. After seeing the band play the same song for over 5 hours and loving it because they’re douche bags, VonCootenstein and Pants decide to leave in style by riding Mussolini’s town car to Maine. On the way they stop at a place called the Truk Stop for a bite to eat. A guy named Seabass is pissed because two guys just stuck him with their tab and he’s looking to take his aggression out our intrepid down syndrome heroes. Seabass gets on the horn and 10 minutes later Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, Gary Oldman, the werewolves from the Howling series (even the ones from Howling 3: The Marsupials), David from An American Werewolf In London, and even that guy from The Forsaken come running through the door with pitchforks, knives, maces, and a solid oak leg from a 17th century tax collector’s desk. Benicio Del Toro was unable to attend as he was too busy being strung out on various narcotics. These iconic silver screen stars, well except for that guy from the Forsaken, beat and subdue Mr. Scowley Pants and Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd. In the final scene of the movie, our heroes are led to a Wicker Man and burned in an attempt to yield better crops. If you stay until after the credits you discover that Bella has been sold to the Humungus and was drowned in a vat of guzzaline.
It was at this point that I snapped out of my daydream. Dora was yammering something about bestiality and forced romantic entanglements. I promptly decided to go back to daydreaming. This time about me and Richard Dawson getting loaded and making fun of the Jonas Brothers.
So it starts out with Edward, aka Mr. Scowley Pants, and Jacob, aka Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd, having a competition to see who can squat and pee the farthest. The winner of this hallowed contest would have the hand of the beautiful and rabbit toothed Bella; the loser would be left to wallow in self pity and have the ability to not have a wispy, blank expressioned scarecrow hung around their neck like an albatross. Just before hackneyed characters get all cocked and loaded for their pissing contest, a goddamned Tyrannosaurus Rex comes smashing through the clearing in the woods with none other than the Robocop riding it. After explaining that, “Cain! Cain’s my problem!” he fires a rocket at Mr. Scowley Pants and Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd. The resulting explosion lodges a 4 foot long 2 foot wide log up Scowley’s rectum, there is much bleeding and screaming, and it damn near killed him. Fuzzybottom takes a nasty kabonk on the head. He becomes amnesiac and believes himself to be a grizzled gold prospecting coot who has a penchant for stamp collecting. Robocop kidnaps the blank sheet of paper known as Bella and rides off with a platoon of C.H.U.D.s, Cyberdyne Systems model T-100s, and the Crab people in tow.
Tree Rectum and Cooty VonCootenstein vow to rescue their turnip brained love interest for reasons neither can remember. Unable to move quickly due to his blockage, Scowley has to ride Fuzzybottom (in a totally non-gay way) across country in search of their paramour. They stop for nothing except a quick trip to the world’s largest nipple ring and for a Phish concert where everyone smells oddly like hamsters and patchouli. After seeing the band play the same song for over 5 hours and loving it because they’re douche bags, VonCootenstein and Pants decide to leave in style by riding Mussolini’s town car to Maine. On the way they stop at a place called the Truk Stop for a bite to eat. A guy named Seabass is pissed because two guys just stuck him with their tab and he’s looking to take his aggression out our intrepid down syndrome heroes. Seabass gets on the horn and 10 minutes later Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, Gary Oldman, the werewolves from the Howling series (even the ones from Howling 3: The Marsupials), David from An American Werewolf In London, and even that guy from The Forsaken come running through the door with pitchforks, knives, maces, and a solid oak leg from a 17th century tax collector’s desk. Benicio Del Toro was unable to attend as he was too busy being strung out on various narcotics. These iconic silver screen stars, well except for that guy from the Forsaken, beat and subdue Mr. Scowley Pants and Professor Fuzzybottom the 3rd. In the final scene of the movie, our heroes are led to a Wicker Man and burned in an attempt to yield better crops. If you stay until after the credits you discover that Bella has been sold to the Humungus and was drowned in a vat of guzzaline.
It was at this point that I snapped out of my daydream. Dora was yammering something about bestiality and forced romantic entanglements. I promptly decided to go back to daydreaming. This time about me and Richard Dawson getting loaded and making fun of the Jonas Brothers.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Little of this and a little of that
Didn't have enough time to put together a full review (at least to my liking) this week so here's some ultra mini reviews and random thoughts that roam around my noggin.
The Secretary - A heartwarming story about a mentally ill woman whose boss has OCD and loves S&M (not the Metallica CD), taking advantage of said mentally ill woman, and jerking off on her back. Also that guy who had sex with his mom in the movie Spank The Monkey was in it; he was also the physicist in Lost.
If I were a luchador my wrestling name would be El Gringo Dingo.
Futurama is back on the air. "Oh they're behind this horror cloth."
Another E3 has gone by and another year without an announcement of a sequel to the greatest videogame ever, Burger Time.
Tattoo tomorrow. Obviously I'm getting a tramp stamp of a unicorn and a dolphin making a heart.
Whale Wars - A television show about a bunch of self righteous hippies who think that killing 900 of a species whose estimated population is 650,000 to 800,000 is an absolute travesty to mother nature. The "captain" of this vessel seems to have his head up a very well known orifice, "hey lets take a ship without a reinforced hull through an ice field" and I'm pretty sure he has whale blowhole sex toy. The idiots on this ship think that throwing stink bombs at the whaling vessels makes them badass but then have an utterly shocked look on their faces when they actually fight back. I'm waiting for the series finale when the Japs decided to turn their harpoon on these groovy oats dingle berries. Final thoughts: I never thought I'd say this but I'm rooting for the Japs and I now have an intense desire to eat some whale meat.
Why don't people give presents in sack form anymore?
The new abomination to werewolves and vampires came out this week. I'll see what I can cook up for that.
Beer, scrabble, more beer, frosted mini wheats, uno, more beer, mini golf, beer, bullshit(card game), Chinese food, and more beer. This vacation is going to feel like I've died and gone to Valhalla.
I'm going to be shouting USA USA USA! alot this weekend.
I saw a newer episode of the Simpsons the other day and it was pretty good. Nah, just fucking with you. That show hasn't been good in years.
I'd like to wish Gary Busey a slightly belated happy birthday because he's awesome, and I'm afraid he may try to swallow my soul if I don't.
"People, life is not that difficult. You get up, go to work, eat 3 square meals, take one good shit, and go to bed." - George Carlin
Kids are too happy these days. That means parents aren't doing their jobs properly.
Remember that Michael Caine line from Dark Knight, "Some men just want to watch the world burn." I'm pretty sure Beaker from the Muppets falls into that category.
The Secretary - A heartwarming story about a mentally ill woman whose boss has OCD and loves S&M (not the Metallica CD), taking advantage of said mentally ill woman, and jerking off on her back. Also that guy who had sex with his mom in the movie Spank The Monkey was in it; he was also the physicist in Lost.
If I were a luchador my wrestling name would be El Gringo Dingo.
Futurama is back on the air. "Oh they're behind this horror cloth."
Another E3 has gone by and another year without an announcement of a sequel to the greatest videogame ever, Burger Time.
Tattoo tomorrow. Obviously I'm getting a tramp stamp of a unicorn and a dolphin making a heart.
Whale Wars - A television show about a bunch of self righteous hippies who think that killing 900 of a species whose estimated population is 650,000 to 800,000 is an absolute travesty to mother nature. The "captain" of this vessel seems to have his head up a very well known orifice, "hey lets take a ship without a reinforced hull through an ice field" and I'm pretty sure he has whale blowhole sex toy. The idiots on this ship think that throwing stink bombs at the whaling vessels makes them badass but then have an utterly shocked look on their faces when they actually fight back. I'm waiting for the series finale when the Japs decided to turn their harpoon on these groovy oats dingle berries. Final thoughts: I never thought I'd say this but I'm rooting for the Japs and I now have an intense desire to eat some whale meat.
Why don't people give presents in sack form anymore?
The new abomination to werewolves and vampires came out this week. I'll see what I can cook up for that.
Beer, scrabble, more beer, frosted mini wheats, uno, more beer, mini golf, beer, bullshit(card game), Chinese food, and more beer. This vacation is going to feel like I've died and gone to Valhalla.
I'm going to be shouting USA USA USA! alot this weekend.
I saw a newer episode of the Simpsons the other day and it was pretty good. Nah, just fucking with you. That show hasn't been good in years.
I'd like to wish Gary Busey a slightly belated happy birthday because he's awesome, and I'm afraid he may try to swallow my soul if I don't.
"People, life is not that difficult. You get up, go to work, eat 3 square meals, take one good shit, and go to bed." - George Carlin
Kids are too happy these days. That means parents aren't doing their jobs properly.
Remember that Michael Caine line from Dark Knight, "Some men just want to watch the world burn." I'm pretty sure Beaker from the Muppets falls into that category.
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