Friday
Jul232010

The Eight-Hour Grilled-Cheese Sandwich. Delightful!

My good pal Blake Perkinson sent me this image this morning with the attached message:

I would like to introduce you all to THE 8 HOUR GRILLED 
CHEESE SANDWHICH!

I know what your thinking, "8 hours, who's got the time?"
But listen
folks with the right tools it's really not that hard.

What you'll need.

2 pieces of wheat bread.
Sliced cheddar cheese
a George Forman grill.

Place your cheese slices on the wheat toast and place on
 the George Foreman Grill, close the lid, fall asleep watching
 a movie.

When you wake up in the morning, VOILA!

the 8 hour grilled cheese.
It really is that easy.

Enjoy!
Wednesday
Jul212010

Brushito: Mexico's Coming World Dominance

I was in Guadalajara not long ago, and aside from the wonderful climate (second only to Kenya!) and its proximity to Tequila, Mexico (a.k.a. Big Rock Candy Mountain), there is something else to recommend the city. Something utterly original and utterly chilling--proof that the U.S. has bigger things to fear than China's rise as a world power.

How many times have you found yourself at a fancy restaurant with a lovely person you'd like to get to know better, only to realize that your breath smells like a fisherman's ass? Those condoms in the bathroom aren't going to do you a lick of good. If you were lucky enough to find yourself in a bathroom in a Guadalajara restaurant, you might find a giant vending machine--about the size of the Monolith from 2001--filled with mysterious little plastic bubbles. And inside each tiny bubble is a tiny toothpaste, an assemble-it-yourself toothbrush, and a little flossing tool.

Brushito is cute, cheap at a mere 20 pesos, and it solves all your immediate problems. To my thinking, that's the very definition of high technology. Mexico is beating us, my friends. Prepare for the opening of the seventh seal.

Tuesday
Jul202010

Parasailing Donkey: "The donkey screamed and children cried."

The BBC reports a disturbing publicity stunt in Russia in which a donkey went parasailing. Sure, stoned people come up with this sort of idea every day, but it's ever so rare that it makes it from the inspiration stage to execution. Just imagine that moment when the donkey was finally strapped into his sailing harness, but still with all hooves on the ground, and nobody--nobody--said, "Hey, wow, this is, like, so incredibly wrong. I object on the grounds that this is totally donkey cruelty. The donkey is totally afraid."

The only real explanation for this is that it happened in Russia, where practically from birth children hear horrendous fairy tales about kids being eaten by wolves and having their feet chopped off. I'm sure that somewhere there on the ground, as a child weeped, his father leaned down, smelling of cigarettes and vodka, and said, "Life is like parasailing donkey. From a distance, looks funny. Up close, smells like shit and fear."

Friday
Jul022010

The Last Airbender Is Awful. Unless You Are a Movie Reviewer on Acid

M. Night Shyamalan is once again getting his due as one of the biggest hacks of our era. But there are some brave souls who (kind of) liked his new film. People who are confused, possibly senile, probably imbibing a dangerous combination of psychotropic drugs. Still, they are people. And even if their prose reads like the ramblings of a mad monk plugged into Google Translate, these people deserve to be heard. To wit, the musings of Prairie Miller on News Blaze:

While Twilight is geared up to rule the plexes nationwide, Night is angling in more ways than one to not be far behind. That is, M. Night, whose mythologically minded, exotic 3D battle of the boys blockbuster The Last Airbender, opens the same week.

Ah, the thread of metaphor drawn slyly through that lede!

He's the gifted airbender boy in question, who can apparently bring ferocious imperialist armies to their knees with a supernatural talent for wind control wizardry. And an unchallenged superpower which leads him to be fast tracked as the rumored Avatar, or the only martial arts magician in eternal existence who can dominate and pacify all others.

Really, no comment necessary there. Except for commenting on the adjectives. But then I would have to use adjectives to describe those adjectives and I would be a hypocrite.

If only the inconsequential story that woefully pales in comparison, matched the exquisite, dazzling imagery, though a bit on the wet side as drenched seafaring adversaries continually collide.

Imagery is good. But damp. Got it. With folks like Prairie on his side, M. Night is destined to pull out of his woeful tailspin.

 

 

Thursday
Jul012010

Michael Jackson: Iron-Fisted Tyrant of Pop

It has been proposed that a statue of Michael Jackson should be erected in Prague's Letna Park. American pop singer dies, so of course monuments to the man should go up all over Central Europe. Some deeply misguided Czechs have argued that Jackson has no connection to the country, but that is a ridiculous lie. Jackson's history (HIStory!) goes all the way back to the heady days of Stalin's rule.

Back in 1996, to kick off the HIStory tour, MJ played a concert to 125,000 people in Letna Park. A few days before he arrived, a 35-foot statue (pictured to the left) materialized overnight: fierce gaze, bandoleros, droopy curls. At night, torches burned alongside the King, and martial music played. I'm not kidding. Elderly babichkas, hobbling down Parizska Ulice pulling their wheeled baskets of potatoes could be seen to gaze up in wonder at this new monstrosity. "Who is invading us now?" Fitting for a petty tyrant, uniformed guards with German shepherds protected the statue from potential vandals.

To step back in history a bit more, the concrete platform where MJ stood was once the site of a much-reviled Stalin monument (left). Yes! MJ's genius team decided to associate the King with Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin, another popular leader. Sadly, by the time the monument was completed in 1955, Stalin was already past the height of his pop fame, and the monument was detonated soon thereafter with dynamite. (The sculpture had already committed suicide by that time.

I can see the reasoning behind conflating the two figures. Stalin murdered millions of people, Jackson sold millions of albums. At Stalin's funeral, hundreds were trampled to death as his admirers tried to glimpse the body. At MJ's funeral, hundreds of celebrities were trampled to death trying to grab a little of the limelight.

Czech Republic, please remember, Michael Jackson transcends all race and geopolitical concerns. Like Uncle Joe Stalin, he wants the best for all of us. Also, don't piss him off, because we all know he's really alive somewhere. And he could have tanks.

 

 

 

Sunday
Jun272010

Are You a Dumbass? Is your mother Kathy Lee Gifford? Congrats: You Have a Future as a Movie Critic

Seriously, movies are cool and stuff. I mean, like, you know, it's cool how you see stuff and you think, like, how you can learn and feel stuff. Right? Awesome. Yeah. Cuz, Dreamworks can't lose, you know? Animation, like the stuff they make, is great. Seriously.

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