Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Irrelevance (#5)

I know I just did one of these as my last "real" post, but they get a lot of good feedback, and I don't really have time to write a full-length post. Sorry.
Also, I would love it if someone would make me a banner for the beginning of these posts. It feels bland without them. Be creative.
I hope this post holds you all over for the next day or so.

The Legend of Zelda: Phantom HourglassSince the blog has been out of commission for a few days, I needed something to pass the time. Luckily, Kate let me borrow this game, and I've been playing it since. Like I said in the last post, I don't really play video games all that much, so it's sort of out of character for me. But this game is completely addicting, even if you aren't really a Zelda fan. I mean, I beat it in four days, but only because I couldn't put it down. I don't think my DS was turned off during my entire "adventure."
What I liked most about the game was that it uses every single one of the DS's capabilities. Whether it be blowing into the mic to snuff out candles, closing the DS to transfer something from one screen to the other, or using the touch pad to control Link, every base is touched. It's innovative in a way that DS games should have been innovative three years ago.
It makes me want to get the new Kirby game that came out recently. I love Nintendo.

Hymie's Basement I decided to download a few of Yoni Wolf's (from WHY?) many, many side projects, and was surprised at how much I liked Hymie's Basement. It is what WHY? would be if WHY? was a lo-fi, acid-ingesting band. The lyrics are bizarre, the music is sort of thrown together, and the vocals aren't the best, but everything compliments each other perfectly.
If you are actually going to take my advice, and download something by them, listen to "21st Century Pop Song" first. It's easily the best song on the album. Also, "Ben and Joey" is hilarious (and really short).

Apple juice
I fucking love apple juice, and no, I'm not under the age of eight. I've been drinking the stuff excessively lately, and I'm not sure why. Probably because it makes me pee a lot, and tastes awesome, but that's besides the point.
The weird part about my obsession is that I dislike apples. I wouldn't say I hate them, but I have the exact same problem with them that I do with potatoes: the way they feel when I eat them. It's like eating fine, worn-down sandpaper. I don't understand how people can do it. That, and every time I eat potatoes, I feel like it's going to get lodged in my throat.
But anyways, I dislike apples, but like apple juice. A lot. Weird, isn't it? Tree Top is the best brand, for the record.

A lot of people haven't liked this season of House for some reason. Why is this? You have an amazing cast (including the absolutely stunning Olivia Wilde), a lot of funny moments (including the "coke" scene in last night's episode), and House himself is more of a douchebag than ever. What's so terrible about it? Sure, you don't really see much of the original three cast anymore (well, maybe Foreman), but still. It's an awesome show nonetheless. Stop whining.

A week ago, I had a "group interview" at a Blockbuster location several miles from my house. I lucked into a ride down there with my friend Ashley, and boy was it strange. I walked into the store, and there were about fifteen people standing around, not really looking at movies. The man at the front desk was busy with several customers, so I figured I'd wait until he was done with them to ask him about the interview. After pacing around the store and looking at the movies (but not really "looking" at them), he announced to the store that the interview would be in the back room. All but one or two people in the store suddenly turned in that direction and started making the great migration towards the door marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY" in the back. We all sat down in folding chairs around rectangular card tables, and the district manager started talking to us. Her name escapes me at the moment, but it was something semi-cutesy. She was a good-looking lady in her mid to late-thirties, and every so-called joke she told was followed by fits of nervous laughter from everyone in the room. Then came the awkward part. We had to volunteer to sell a nonexistent product or membership to someone around us, in total silence, with everyone staring at us. I, of course, didn't volunteer, but the people that did seemed like they were incredibly nervous while doing so. And this made me wonder: how can play-acting in front of a group of people show her how we'd act in a one-on-one situation? I'm perfectly comfortable selling a product to one person, but get really nervous in front of large groups (which is why my dream to be a comedian died out really quickly). It just doesn't make sense to me. But hey, whatever.
The group of people applying for these jobs (all over the area, in nineteen different locations) were some of the most drastically different humans I've ever seen. You had your Hispanic, middle-aged guy in a polo that knew the tricks of the trade; your seemingly gay hipster kid who walked in wearing Aviators (and used to work at Wal-Mart); your Blockbuster veteran who had worked at a location in California for 6 or 7 years; your African-American man that looks to be pushing 50 with terrible teeth and Coke-bottle glasses; your audiophile that works or has worked at two of the city's most famous record stores (who offered to make me a few mix CD's, and claims to own hundreds of records); your cabinet-installing Steve Buscemi lookalike that is more obnoxious than anyone, and is of an indeterminable age; your freshly-graduated, long-haired kid with acne that wears button-up shirts with blue flames on them, who is applying for a manager position, all in the same room. If you think it was strange and uncomfortable, you are completely and totally correct. Except you didn't experience it. It sounds unpleasant, but I assure you that when I was done, my mouth was dry and you would easily soak a towel with all of the sweat on my body. And I don't get uncomfortable like that very often.
Anyways, I got the job, and start this Friday. Sorry this blurb was so long. I didn't expect it to be.

State of the blog: October 29, 2008

I'm incredibly sorry for not posting anything for the last few days. My computer keeps randomly shutting off when I try to post on Blogger (for some odd reason). It does it at other times too, but I suppose that doesn't really matter to most of you.
I've been working while I've been away though. I have a few post ideas for the next few days, including one titled "The Top 5 Words Pornography Has Changed Forever." Exciting, no?

I removed Danny and Anna from the people able to write for this blog. They weren't doing anything, and I was tired of being a dick to them. So I guess I'm writing solo for now.

I signed up for a novel-writing adventure thingy for next month as well. During the entire month of November I'll be attempting to write 55,000 words in novel format. Sounds fun, doesn't it? I'll be writing a story I've been wanting to for a while. I'm excited. The website for the project (National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo) is located here. So hopefully my computer is fixed by then, right?

I've also been working on my novella a little bit as well. It's coming along really nicely. I'm having a blast writing it. All of the feedback that you guys have been giving me has really been helping me. I'm generally the type of person that abandons projects like this pretty easily, but constant support from readers and friends keeps me going. Thanks everyone.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Irrelevance (T.W. #4)

Lego Batman
For the past few days, I’ve been playing the new Lego Batman game obsessively. I don’t play video games that often, so this is sort of surprising. I’ve been a fan of the past two Lego + franchise games (Star Wars and Indiana Jones), because I enjoy both franchises (at least, before they were ruined). But they were lacking something that they didn’t leave out of this one. I get the feeling that this one was made FOR FANS. For instance, the villains that the game includes are Killer Croc, Two-Face, the Joker, the Penguin, Firefly, Clayface, Poison Ivy, the Riddler, and Mr. Freeze. If you are wondering who some of those are, I’ve proven my point. I highly suggest you pick it up. It’s easily the best Batman game of all time (it’s not a hard title to win, but whatever).

Ben Folds’ Way To Normal
I’ve written about Ben Folds a few times before, and he had a new album release at the end of last month. Well, after listening to it a few times, I can say with full confidence that it contains some of his best songs. “Hiroshima,” “Brainwashed,” and “You Don’t Know Me” are my favorites, and I was disappointed by “Cologne.” But that’s it. Nothing else really let me down. Good job, Benjamin.

Rolling Stone
Rolling Stone magazine changed their format recently. Usually a large-format ‘zine, they have now adopted the standard magazine format for publishing all future issues. I saw it on a newsstand the other day, and it completely blew my mind (despite hearing about the change earlier in the week). It’s weird how such a small thing can change your view of something so much. Now, I’m afraid it won’t stand out anymore. Their fault, though.

Sex Drive
I saw the movie Sex Drive this past weekend, and wasn’t disappointed. It’s a sex comedy in the same vein as American Pie, Knocked Up, and Superbad. If you like any/all of those, check it out. James Marsden steals the movie, playing the perfect douchebag older brother.But I have something to say about two of the actors in the movie. First of all, Josh Zuckerman (who plays Ian, the main character) looks identical to Jason Schwartzman. Below is a picture comparing the two: They even have the same mole on their cheek! You can’t tell me that they don’t at least look like brothers or something. It’s creepy.
Second, Amanda Crew (who plays Felicia) is absolutely beautiful. My crush on her is epic:Isn’t she adorable? I think so.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Dream #1

Usually, I hate it when people tell me their dreams. I'm one of those people that immediately tunes someone out if they say "So I had a weird dream last night..." Unless I was in it, I generally don't give a shit.
But I had a fucked up dream last night. My final thought before I fell asleep was "I forgot to brush my teeth." So my dream was as follows (Warning: kinda gross):

I was in a bathroom, looking at my teeth in the mirror, when I noticed a hole in my first molar. There was plaque all around it, so I cleared it out. It was literally the size of a dime. Anyways, I poked some sort of dental instrument into the hole, and more plaque started oozing out. I kept spitting it out, and pushing the hole even more. It reminded me of those Play-Doh spagetti makers, you know?
After about twenty "pushes," blood started coming out. I took this as a sign that I had better stop, and looked down at the sink. There was a pile of plaque, about the size of a shot put ball. Absolutely disgusting, right?

I already knew this, but this just proves that I don't like my teeth being dirty.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Small Soldiers

When I was a pre-teen, my favorite movie was Small Soldiers. For those of you unfamiliar with this film, it followed an average-looking and acting boy named Alan, whose parents owned a hobby/toy shop. One day, they get in a shipment of "smart" toys, released by a company that knows that they are dangerous. There are two teams, the Gorgonites and Commando Elites. The Gorgonites are comprised of a few different creatures, and are lead by the kind and gentle Archer. The opposing, evil team was lead by Major Chip Hazard, and had a bunch of human army douchebags in it.
But I'm not here to discuss the merits of the movie. I'm here to discuss the toys that they released with it. My favorite toy as a child, aside from LEGOs, was this:(Note: not my toy) Archer, in real-life. I played with this toy until his joints became worn and would swing around freely. The bottoms of his feet were worn down to the grey plastic, from having so many concrete battles with my other action figures. Even better, he was huge. 9 or 10 inches tall, if I remember correctly. I used to carry him around by the shin. Everywhere. It didn't matter if the old ladies at the doctor's office judged me. I wasn't embarrassed to show my love for a half-claymation movie that was totally badass. I didn't give a shit. Archer was a slim thug, and everyone knew it.
But sadly, I don't know where my figure has ended up. It was probably sold for a buck at a garage sale a few years ago, when my parents decided to sell all of my toys in a giant box. I didn't care at this point in time, because toys were "for kids." But he may still be lurking in my attic somewhere, buried underneath layers of McDonald's toys from yesteryear. Who knows?

Friday, October 17, 2008

Testicular replacement

This is another passage from my novella that I'm working on, Ridiculosity: A Lifetime of the Unabashedly Bizarre. Let me know what you think.

Rumors of Walters’ testicular replacement are true; doctor says
By Zelda Heinrich

Last week, famed writer, musician, and sea horse trainer Ty Walters was rumored to have had an experimental testicular replacement surgery, despite having no medical problems in his nether regions whatsoever. The wildly-circulating rumors were proven true when the head doctor of said operation stepped forward with a statement yesterday.
"Walters came to us with a request, and paid us over $4.7 million dollars to carry it out," says James Hildenburg of the Center for Testicular Replacement and care in Chicago, Illinois. Hildenburg went on to explain that he replaced Walters’ standard, pube and lint-covered nutsack with a more ergonomic platinum-coated steel one. Walters apparently then asked the team that replaced his precious balls if they could embellish the cold, steel exterior of the left testicle with sapphires, and the right with emeralds; making the term “family jewels” completely literal. The team agreed.
"It really is a beautiful sack," says Hilde Bruntguarde, one of the nurses that helped during the procedure. "I would definitely love it if my man would get something like that. I can imagine the world looks better through his pair of Arabian goggles."
Hildenburg also said that Walters is planning on going into the Center sometime next week, with plans to have the team make his new testicles clank together to the tune of the Pantera song "Cowboys From Hell." No word yet on how the team plans to do this.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

"Wildly Cherry" M and M's (yep, still can't use an ampersand)

I don't want to waste a long post on this, but I wanted to write something about these strange candies.
They taste like M&M's if they mixed the chocolate with shitty-tasting cherry cough syrup. I hated them. A lot. That is all.

A letter to PETA

Dear PETA,

I, unlike most non-vegetarians or vegans, respect you. Yes, even through the countless scandals, unorthodox techniques for gaining attention, and advertisements with naked people in them, I consider you an eccentric, yet reputable organization.
But this bullshit with your teenage members changing their legal names to one of your many websites needs to stop. It started back in '06 with 19-year old Chris Garnett changing his name to, and now another 19-year old has followed suit, changing her name from Jennifer Thornburg to Cutout I know you are all passionate about protecting animals and what not, but doing things like this isn't going to help you gain members. It's just going to make your community seem more cult-like. No one wants to join a cult, PETA. Especially one that is based around something as futile as animal rights.
Please, take my advice, and tell your members to cut the shit. It's really getting annoying.

Ty Walters

P.S. KFC is delicious. I don't care what you say.

An exercise in ridiculousness #2 - moldy bowl

This is one of my favorite images on the internet. When looking at this bowl and sink, I think of college. Though I have yet to experience the horrors of having an untidy roommate, I think this picture basically covers it. What gets me most about it is that this is not in a kitchen, but a bathroom. What the fuck could grow that type of greenish yeast mold in a bathroom? It looks like chicken broth from chicken noodle soup. But at this point, who knows?

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Irrelevance (T.W. #3)

The Joker
If you are going to be one of the thousands of people that goes as the Joker for Halloween this year, please, do it right. Don't buy a mask, paint your face. Don't buy a pre-made costume, make it yourself. The more effort you put into it, the more you'll stand out. I don't want to see a zillion people in the exact same outfit this year. Spice it up a bit, you ingrates.

Douglas Adams
I have an obsession with the late, great Douglas Adams. Famously known for writing the five-part Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy (no, not a typo), I fell in love with his writing when I was 14 after reading about it in the comic strip Get Fuzzy. He is my biggest inspiration as a writer, and I truly wish I could have met him before he passed away in 2001.
I do collect his books, however. Any editions, any reprintings, any languages. I'm obsessed. It doesn't hurt my wallet, either. When used bookstores sell books, they sell them for half of the "listing price," or the price on the book, and most of his books were released in the 80's, so I'm usually getting them for $2-$3 apiece. It's a fantastic hobby. I have 34 total, at the moment.

For a scene-ish band, MGMT (pronounced "management;" look it up) isn't all that bad. Their debut album, Oracular Spectacular, was released to really good reviews, and I managed to avoid downloading it until around 3 weeks ago. At first, I hated it. Now, it's really good. I love it when you have that sort of relationship with music. It makes it all the better.

The Presidential election
I don't want to start a political debate here, but my first vote as an adult will be for Barack Obama. Being a registered Democrat, I really don't have much of a choice, but I'd vote for him either way. He, in my mind, is the candidate that truly cares about the American people. John McCain isn't a terrible guy. He fought for our country, and I respect him for that. But as a resident of his senatorial state, Arizona, I can safely say that he is not right for America.

A few weeks ago, I received a 30 GB Zune from a Microsoft promotion that I won a year ago (good job getting it shipped out fast, Bill), and decided to keep it rather than sell it. I was in the market for a new MP3 player anyways, so I figured it was just good timing. I love it, despite one flaw: the fucking shitty program that it forces you to use. After using iTunes loyally for 4 years, I can safely say that the Zune music software is the worst program for managing music. The stupid thing found songs that I didn't even know were on my computer. It's insane. And fucknuts. Fix it, Microsoft. Please. My iPod is dead now, and I really need it.

I am one of the few straight men that isn't in a theatre troupe that actually enjoys musicals from time to time. But everything I love is being turned into one. Evil Dead has a musical deal, Spider-Man has a musical deal, and now there are rumors that the Goonies might have one too. Isn't that strange? I'd love to see all three though, assuming they were done right. Maybe I need to move to New York. And become gay.

The Nightcrawler Sketchbooks

Diana Nock loves Nightcrawler. A lot. So much, that since 2004, she's collected 192 sketches (and counting) from different artists at comic cons and other events. She now has a section on her site devoted to these sketches. She scanned each one in, and wrote a brief 2-3 sentences about each. The above sketch is by Michael Lark (who drew me an awesome sketch of Batman a few years ago), and is one of my favorites from the collection. Even if you don't like the blue-skinned teleporter, or comics in general, it's a neat collection. Nightcrawler is one of my favorites though, and I have to admit, I'm incredibly jealous.

Found on Neatorama.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Halloween candy-giving

Over the last few years, I've noticed something interesting about myself. As Halloween looms closer and closer, I slowly become more anxious. Thanks to a near-panic attack last year on the evening of the 31st, I now know why.
I'm not part of the semi-sparse "over 14" crowd that goes out on Hallow's eve, so I'm usually left at home handing out candy for an hour or two while my parents take my little brother out and about to get his unnecessarily large amount of candy. But being left home alone isn't what freaks me out. Hell, I'm home alone right now, and that just means that I can play The Mars Volta at ridiculous volumes. But it's the "handing out candy" half of the equation that freaks me out. I HATE doing this. More than anything. Ever. I don't know why, but I get incredibly sweaty, nervous, and embarrassed when forced to do this. Every year, I feel the seven year-old Spider-Man on my doorstep silently judging me as I shovel several "Fun Size" candy bars into his bag. He doesn't say anything (aside from "Trick or Treat!" and "Thanks!"), but I know he wants to insult my Reese's and Snickers. They aren't good enough for that motherfucker. His eyes say it all, even behind the mask that he's wearing.
That, and I feel even more awkward when I know the people that I'm giving candy to; even if I've just seen them about town or something. Seriously, thinking about it right now makes my pulse quicken and my actions become less fluid and more shaky. Am I the only person that feels this way? I get the sense that this is a serious phobia of mine, as strange as it sounds. I'm already hoping that there is a party or another sort of social gathering that I can be a part of this year, rather than staying home and being tortured by bucket-toting children in costumes.

Brute Force

Before stumbling across the subject of today's post, I was fairly okay with the month and year I was born in. Not a lot happened in August of 1990, besides the first shots of the Gulf War being fired (pish posh!). But my confidence in my birth-month was completely blown the fuck up when I stumbled across the following in the comics section of a used bookstore:Of course that's a dolphin in a robot suit, you asshole. Who the fuck asks questions like that?
But seriously, this is one of the most unintentionally hilarious objects I have ever come across. Look at the insanity!
Brute Force, released by Marvel and based on a nonexistent toy (yes, seriously), this four-issue miniseries was their attempt to pretend they cared about Mother Earth. Nevermind the fact that it was printed on unrecycled paper using hazardous inks, these fucking animals are the "PROTECTORS OF THE ENVIRONMENT." You can't screw with a bunch of cyborg animals; they'll fuck your shit up. A lot. Especially since they can talk with their suits, apparently. Now they can call you a pussy while they smash your face in with a giant metal boot. Emotional and physical damage. See what I mean? Total annihilation.
All of the characters are all done up in classic 90's style. The kangaroo is reminiscent of the music-loving best friend on approximately 65% of all sitcoms during this era. You know, the one that would refer to the main character's mom as "Mizz" Jones, and would always stay over for dinner? The one that always had a set of headphones around his neck? Yeah, that one:
Guess what his name is? It's fucking "Hip-Hop." A kangaroo. Named "Hip-Hop." I want to kill myself now. He looks like he's being taken from behind. What a douchenozzle.
But the kangaroo isn't the best part. Around this time, Transformers was really, really popular. Brute Force tried to capitalize on this by making their cyborg animals able to "transform" into vehicles for quick transportation:
(Note the silently-screaming corpse in the foreground. Wow.)
This strange quirk is never explained (or even mentioned) in the comic, so I'm assuming all cyborg costumes in the Marvel universe come standard with vehicular transformation. And yes, the dolphin and lion are motorcycles. And yes the bear turns into what can only be described as a "hugeass tank/turret thing with missiles 'n shit."
All of that aside, the interior of the book has some of the most entertaining, unintentional, single-panel jokes I've ever seen. Taken out of context, there are some completely fucked up jokes in this book. Some examples:

Note that there is no armor or goggles over his eyes to give him "eye lasers." Are we to assume he was born with laser vision?That's "Wreckless" the grizzly bear, with his "bearzooka." Yep. "Bearzooka."I wish the dolphin had an extended bubble where he said "And by wrapped up, I mean I just broke this dude's neck by bending his gun around it like a pretzel! Wahoo!"Awesome, 90's name for the opposing "evil" team: check. Octopus with tank treads and armor: check. Vulture with missiles and a mohawk: check. Rhinoceros with body armor in the form of steel plates: check. Shark with FUCKING BUZZSAWS FOR FEET AND A TURRET ON HIS BACK: double check.
So I am officially crowning Brute Force as the "Most awesomely terrible comic book idea of all time." Mostly because of that fucking kangaroo, though.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Why I hate America sometimes: Reason #4802754

Last night, I was eating in at my local Jack In The Box with my friend and frequent dinner time comrade, Vance, when I nearly had a heart attack. I was applying a generous amount of hot sauce onto my taco, when I saw the horrible sight pictured below:

Does anything look amiss to you? No? Maybe I need to emphasize it a bit:

See it yet? I can zoom in further, if you'd like:

Your eyes don't decieve you. There is a fucking "HOLD HERE" tab on this hot sauce packet. Have we become this dumb as a society that we need instructions on how to open a goddamn packet of hot sauce?
There should be a new general rule in America: if you can't figure out how to open it, you don't get to eat it. fuck these "instructions." Stupidity = starvation. Simple as that.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Vance on: Robocop

This was written by my friend Vance a few days ago. I love it.
It's futile to even attempt to fathom how much I love Robocop. Don't even try. First you'll just be curious, and try to come up with some idea of how much I adore the "Future of Law Enforcement". Then it'll bug you. Soon after that you'll be dying to know and you'll begin your research. By now it's become an obsession, crawling under your skin like the scarabs in "The Mummy". You stop showing up at your job because now your only task is to analyze every inch of media surrounding this robotic cop. You begin to set up multiple TVs in your house, so no matter which of the many Robocop games you're playing, you can always have all three movies playing in a continuous loop (including the short lived animated series and the four-part miniseries "Robocop: Prime Directives"). You scour every corner of the earth to obtain all issues of the Marvel comic book series and use the pages in a multi-layered quilt and plaster it on your walls as a makeshift wallpaper. By now you've begun receiving eviction notices from your landlord. This is most likely due to the smelting workshop you built inside your house in order to make an authentic Robocop uniform. Some of the scorching hot metal must have dripped into the foundation of the home. Despite this minor setback you remain ever vigilant in your quest. After being denied by every plastic surgeon in the country (I don't see what's so wrong with wanting to have metallic plating permanently attached to your body), you begin schooling for cosmetic surgery and in due time, make your suit final. After a lifetime of service to the metal boy in blue you seek approval from yours truly. You come to me in baited breath, armor and all, asking "Have I done adequate sire?". And I reply instantly with a disappointed tone, "Thy hath yet make a dent in my never-ending odyssey of the cyborg police man. For even I do not know how much I hath praised him." You will then leave promptly and take your own life.
Moral of the story: if you think about how much I like Robocop, you will commit suicide.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

IDEA: Rainbow Polaroids

If you are interested in photography at all, chances are you are aware of Polaroid's decision to stop making their widely-known instantly developing film and cameras by the end of this year. And if not, surprise! They announced this at the beginning of this year. Good job keeping up with the news.
Anyways, while most would see this as a sad occurrence, I see it as a wholly positive one. As stated in the article above:

"Loyal users take heart, though — Polaroid said it would happily license the technology to other manufacturers should they want to go on supplying the niche market with film after 2009."
That means that any company that wants to make the film can acquire the rights to do so. This means that we'll start seeing different types of film available for these cameras, rather than the standard color (or black and white) film we are so used to. I can see businesses making the normally dull white border different colors, or maybe making the pictures monotone with a certain color (such as everything in the picture being red, or something of the sort).
But I want to take that monotone idea a bit further. There are ten pictures in each pack of Polaroid film, and I think it would be interesting to make each photo on the roll a different color. Like a rainbow of pictures. Even better, randomize the order, so you never know what colors will come out. Even better, combine it with the colored border change that I mentioned above, so that you know what color it will develop in the instant it comes out. How neat would that be?
It's times like these when I wish I worked for an advertising company. If you are reading this and happen to work for one, I don't mind if you steal my idea. You have my word that I won't sue.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

"4 Cheese" Doritos

This is that "one food article" that I promised for this week. I know, they get a bit boring. But these were too interesting to pass up:
(Note: this old picture is the only one that I can find on the internet. The new bag is black, and really sleek looking; but my camera is acting up. Sorry.)
Those crafty motherfuckers at Doritos finally brought these chips back. I remember (briefly) seeing them on shelves as an adolescent, but never getting to try them, despite my consistent begging. But now I have them. Yeeeeeees, I have them. They were re-released alongside another old Doritos flavor, Taco. Never tried those, but I plan on it.
The bag claims that the four cheeses are "Cheddar, Monterrey Jack, American and Parmesan," but after further inspection, there are six. Colby and Swiss are in the ingredients box as well. I admit, "6 Cheese" sounds a lot more overwhelming than "4 Cheese." Even so, it seems a bit "high class" for a mass-produced chip, don't you think?
Regardless, I was not hesitant at all about reviewing these, though I have been in the past.

The bag:
It looks really neat. Like I explained above, I can't find a picture of it on the internet, and my camera is acting silly. But anyways, it's black with a bunch of orange writing on it, kinda sketchy-like. It's visually appealing. It's also interesting to note that there is a completely unnecessary advertisement for the new Ghostbusters video game for the PS3 on the back of the bag. Weird.

The smell:
They smell like regular "Nacho" Doritos, but with Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. It's an appealing smell, especially if you enjoy the standard flavor. They look EXACTLY like regular Doritos too, but maybe a bit less orange.

The taste:
Goddamn, these are good. They resemble "Nacho" Doritos, but only vaguely. Like I mentioned above, it seems like it's a bit higher class than your standard cheesy corn chip. Being a cheesoholic though, I guess my opinion is sort of biased.

The aftertaste:
It has the unfortunate "I'm going to make sure everyone you come into contact with in the next seven hours knows you had Doritos earlier" aftertaste/smell. But that is to be expected.

Final thoughts:
I would recommend only trying these if you either like or love standard Doritos. Otherwise, don't bother. I plan on buying them again.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

"Are You Ready To Rock?" by Miyavi

About two years ago, I was shown the following video:

The artist, Miyavi, is a very popular J-Rock artist (J-Rock is Japanese rock, plain and simple). I know the song is in a different language, and that annoys some people, but listen to the way he shreds that guitar. It's absolutely insane. He's insane. I wish I could learn how to play like that; even if I HAD to dress like that to gain the "power." It would totally be worth it.
Some of the noises that he makes during the song are fucking weird.

(Fake) book review

Yesterday, I wrote about my new novella idea (tenatively titled Ridiculosity: A Lifetime of the Unabashedly Bizarre), in which I would create a completely false life for myself, and act as if I was writing an autobiography in the future. This is one of the chapters. Let me know what you think in the comments or in the chat box to the right.

Hey everyone! The first review of my new book is in! This is featured in the October 2008 issue of the magazine Tits, Cars, Vaginas, Guns, War, Bald Eagles, Shootin' Faggots and Fine Literature. Enjoy!

Reading Walters' new memoir about sex is almost as fun as having sex. But not quite. It's still good, though.
By Pinky Fishwater

When I first received famed writer Ty Walters' sophomore effort, How I Got That Loose-Lipped Bitch Betsy Rosenberg To Fuck Me Until I Was Raw: The Story About Fucking The Biggest Whore On The West Coast Until I Couldn't Walk, I was astounded at its size. Clocking in at 3,352 pages, 84 chapters, and weighing as much as a small child, my astonishment is understandable. But once I cracked the spine of this book and read the title of the introduction, I knew I had a winner sitting on my lap. Titled "I'm In This Shit For The Money, Bitches," the first chapter paints an autobiographical portrait of the author better than any that I've ever read. He explains that yes, he is in this shit for the money, and that he will spend all of the royalties from this book on crack cocaine and dirty prostitutes. Fans of his previous memoir, titled Cunts, Chodes, Cooters, and Cunnilingus: What's Up With Women's Crotches? will recognize his playful yet truthful tone. It warms my heart to see such a young up-and-coming writer be so brutally honest with his readers.
After this brief passage, the real story begins. Walters tells us that he was sitting on his bed in his apartment one Sunday, masturbating into a sock while thinking of Fran Drescher, when all of a sudden, an image of Betsy Rosenberg, the west coast's most infamous whore (and peanut butter spokeswoman), popped into his head. Bewildered, he immediately lost his erection and vowed to have sex with Betsy as some sort of psychotic form of revenge that apparently only makes sense to him. He finds her in less than three hours, after talking to a series of fourteen African-American crack dealers (ten of which had undoubtedly had sex with her in the previous week). He approaches her lying under a park bench in a children's park and makes his proposal, stating that she "needs to fuck him," otherwise he'll "shoot her in the fucking face with his fucking shotgun." She gladly accepts his offer, but on one condition: he must release a DVD of their sex romp (EDITOR'S NOTE: the deluxe edition of the book includes this DVD, with exclusive director commentary). He agrees, and they make their way back to his apartment, stopping at the store for a giant box of condoms, Funyuns, and anal lubricant.
Chapters 14 through 69 describe their fornication in classic Walters style, from his realistic description of the (likely cancerous) mole on Betsy's left ass cheek to the way sweat drips off of her fake-tanned love handles while she rides him cowgirl-style. My personal favorite moment is when during the foreplay segment, Walters likens Betsy's left nipple to a red Crunch Berry (chapter 23: "O Berry, Where Art Thou?"). It's beautiful and poetic. I won't ruin the juicy details of this sexual journey for you, but I would like to mention that I vomited four times while reading it. Yes, I was moved that much.
After their two-day fuckfest, Walters sleeps for 19 hours, waking up only to eat still-frozen waffles and urinate in his kitchen sink. After waking from this near-coma, he discovers that he has what looks like acne in the skin underneath his unkempt pubic hair. This leads into chapter 72, creatively titled "I Think That Whore Bitch Gave Me Fucking Herpes." He journeys to a free clinic for some tests, and they confirm that yes, he has herpes. While most people would think this sort of diagnosis would ruin someone's life, Walters makes the best of it by photocopying his testicles for 116 straight days, chronicling his first three and a half months with this disease. Each photocopy is represented in this book, printed in vibrant color on professional-grade photo paper, so no small detail is missed. This is where his experimental writing style truly shines. You really start to feel his pain by day 74, when he suffers through his thirteenth straight outbreak. But all is well by day 103, when he is boil-free and ready to be laid again. It is truly a great success story.
After finishing the epic tome that is How I Got That Loose-Lipped Bitch Betsy Rosenberg To Fuck Me Until I Was Raw: The Story About Fucking The Biggest Whore On The West Coast Until I Couldn't Walk, I read it again, in record time (67 hours!). This book deserves to be considered a classic, amongst Gone With The Wind and Moby Dick (mostly because it's so fucking long). From the heart-wrenching first chapter to the finely finished last page, Walters takes you on a ride you (and he) will never forget (but mostly him, because of the herpes). I highly recommend it.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

An exercise in ridiculousness #1 - Tom Selleck birthday cake

This is a new section I'm starting where I'm going to attempt to explain the story behind some strange pictures I find on the internet. This idea was proposed to me by my friend Vance, so thanks to him for that. Yeah.I'm starting this off with one of my favorite pictures of all time: Emma's Tom Selleck birthday cake. I found this picture a few months ago while surfing the web looking for interesting cakes. This one stood out to me for three reasons:

1) Tom Selleck's sprinkle chest hair.
2) The cutesy "Hairy Birthday Emma."
3) It's motherfucking Magnum P.I. On a cake. Does it get much cooler than that? I think not.

But my absolute favorite feature is the look on Tom's face. He looks so gruff and manly, despite being surrounded by iced pink flowers and pastel green letters. It takes a real man to be comfortable with his masculinity in that sort of bizarre situation.
You have to be amazed at the craftsmanship that this cake displays too. It's not often that I get to say this about a birthday cake with a beefcake iced on top, but it's gorgeous. I'm assuming this was the picture that they were given:
It's like a mirror made of icing! Major props to whoever baked that fucker. They did a great job. But I wonder if this was a "gag cake," or if Emma is seriously attracted to Tom Selleck. It isn't uncommon to have a crush on the Selleck-ster, I mean look at him! That 'stache has tickled many-a-vag. He looks like a man of experience. And cigars. And brandy.

State of the blog: October 7, 2008

First of all, I'm sorry. I know I haven't really been updating as frequently as I used to, and it's mostly because of the job that I had (and lost). This week will be different, though. I promise to have at least two updates every day.

Second, I decided that I'm going to write a book. Or rather, a novella. It's going to be a completely exaggerated depiction of my life, now and in the future. I'll call it a fictional autobiography. Some of you may be familiar with one of the chapters, posted on my Myspace blog (and soon to be posted on here). I'm currently brainstorming ideas about potential life events, so feel free to help me in that process. The tenative title is "Ridiculosity: A Lifetime of the Unabashedly Bizarre."

Third, I know I've been writing about food a lot lately, and that's because it's incredibly easy and fun. I have something planned for this week, then next week, then I'll hold off on the foodstuffs for a while. Promise.

Fourth, I've given up on Quincy, for the time being. Sucks, but whatever.

Fifth, I have several new sections to add to the site, including one that my friend Vance suggested. Expect to see one today or tomorrow.

Sixth, my iTunes is acting up, so I haven't been able to write The Weekly Shuffle. I know some of you enjoyed reading that, so I'll try to figure the problem out ASAP. Consider this a hiatus.

Seventh, we were briefly mentioned in the Food Notes blog, for my review of the mozzerella stick Pringles. It's weird to see the blog "getting out" there like that.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Irrelevance (T.W. #2)

For some reason, I've been getting into Coldplay's back catalogue a lot lately. Before a year ago, I was one of those people that despised Coldplay because of their overwhelming popularity, and (what I thought) were a sub-par couple of albums. But since I bought their newest album (Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends) I have absolutely fallen in love with them. And not just that album, either. On my computer, we have every single Coldplay song ever recorded, and I've been working my way through it. They are one of those bands that evolves with every album, sounding aurally distinct with each release. It's incredible. Also, I've found something really, really neat online. It's a collection of every single they have ever released on 15 7-inch vinyl records (here). Sure, it's $100, but it looks like it would be well worth it.

If you know me personally, you know that I started working at a local family-owned donut store recently. And if you know me personally, you know that I quit this job after having it for two or three weeks. And if you have any form of common sense or inference skills whatsoever, you'll realize that this is why I haven't been writing like I used to anymore. That job was literally killing me. The hours were usually from 4 AM until 6 or 8, which means I'd have to wake up at 3 AM and ride my bike two miles to the shop (I don't drive). The job itself was easy, and the people were nice, but the hours absolutely sucked.
Plus, I always smelled like donuts.

The Mars Volta's album Bedlam In Goliath
This album is my new favorite thing to listen to. It was recommended to me by my friend Vance, and I haven't been able to stop playing it in the last few days. It blows away everything they have recorded in the past. The best track, "Goliath," shreds my face off, and contains some of the best falsetto vocals I have ever heard. The album flows together so well that I'll start it from the first song and listen to it all the way through. I suggest you download or buy it, especially if you haven't exactly been pleased with them in the past.

Deadpool is my favorite superhero, and has been for a long time. The "merc with a mouth" now has his own comic series that started this month, and issue #1 was good. He's been teamed up with Cable for a while now (in "Cable and Deadpool") but the gun-toting behemoth from the future has the future, leaving Deadpool to fight Skrulls in present-day.
Anyways, I'm anxious about the new X-Men Origins: Wolverine movie that comes out on May 1st, 2009. Ryan Reynolds is playing him (PERFECT CASTING), and I'm excited to see it, but at the same time I don't want Deadpool to be popularized, appearing on t-shirts at Wal-Mart and messenger bags at Hot Topic. It sounds selfish, but I really enjoy the confused looks on peoples' faces when I tell them who my favorite comic book character is. Oh well.

The Simpsons
20 seasons later, and The Simpsons is still (barely) kicking. Last Sunday's season premiere felt outdated, but I have faith that Groening and crew will kick it up a notch sooner or later. I've been disappointed by everything they've done recently (save for these); all of which was only magnified by the semi-terrible Movie. I hope they stop before it gets out of hand.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

I'm sorry everyone

I know I haven't really been updating that much in the last few days, and I'm sorry. I've been ridiculously busy with everything lately, and haven't really had the time to sit down and crank something worthwhile out.
I might not be updating for the rest of the weekend, so if I don't, sorry again.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Why I hate mainstream music part 3 of 3: Rap

Rap is a genre of music that I have never really gotten into. For some strange, mind-boggling reason, I just can't take the "artists" seriously.
A perfect example of why is expertly illustrated in the video and song for Three 6 Mafia's song "Lolli Lolli" (featuring no less than 37 "guest rappers").
Unfortunately, Three 6 Mafia's official YouTube account won't let you embed their videos. How lame is that? It's free promotion, you douchebags. Not even user-posted versions of the same video are able to be embedded. Wow. It could be because YouTube is down for maintenance though.
Anyways, click here to go to the page for the video and watch it. Come on, for me? At least watch one minute of the terrible, horrible, gut-grabbing green screen effects. Isn't that state of the art? Look at the way Project Pat stands on the back of that "whip" they be drivin'. That Pat, always up to those craaaaazy shenanigans. Tsk tsk.
As with the last two, here is an exerpt from the extremely well-written lyrics:
Now Lordy, Lordy
Please Lord have some mercy
This girl is throwing judy
I think she bout to hurt me
See she went front to back
And she went side to side
I seem them black hitch hickers
I think I need a ride
One front and for the pills
Gotta lil bag o' that cola
The other one's pulling weed
And see my other bit's stola
See ain't no dancing do
But I can lay like a cholo
See why don't you go with me cause I can't go home solo?
I was curious as to what the term "Judy" meant, so I searched Urban Dictionary. The three definitions are:

1. A person who is very hott.
2. To be "Clean" or "Fresh".
3. a girlfriend/girl who's a pill-popper
I'm going to go ahead and assume he's talking about the third one, since later in the verse he talks about pills and weed. So wait, this girl was "throwin' Judy," which means that she was throwin' another girl? Maybe he got his definition mixed up and meant just pills themselves. Maybe I'm just giving him a hard time. Maybe.
But I wonder if the members of Three 6 Mafia know what the term "loli" means. I'm going to go back to my buddy Urban Dictionary to show you.

1. Hentai that contains underage females in sexual situations.
Sure, it has one less "L," but phonetically, it is no different (depending on who you talk to; some say it's "low-lee"). What the fuck it THREE SIX MAFI-UH promoting? Pedophilia? Whatever.
Let's take a look at a picture of this group, shall we?
And you wonder why I can't take rap seriously.

Register to vote

It isn't often that I feel so strongly about something political enough to post it here, but this is definitely one of those times.
Please, if you are over 18, register to vote. It doesn't matter if you are a Republican, Democrat, Green Party member, or whatever. Register. Now. Not later. Now. It literally takes less than five minutes. Registration to vote in the November elections ends this Friday or Monday (depending on what state you live in) so don't put it off. Please.
And if you do register, vote. Take a few minutes out of your so-called "busy schedule" and make our nation better. Most jobs are required to let you leave work to vote anyways, so there are absolutely no excuses.
If you don't vote, you have absolutely no right to complain about who wins the election, or their choices in the future. It was your inactivity that put them there. So if I hear you complaining about McCain, Obama, or whoever wins, I will come to your house and break your face. I am not joking. I will literally smash your face in with a baseball bat.
And now, a video with a shitload of celebrities using reverse psychology: