Where's Your Towel?

This post will be of the most random, and thus I am dedicating it to the Heart of Gold's Infinite Improbability Drive. If you don't get the joke, I'd like to introduce you to the number 42, and the nearly funniest Brit ever: Douglas Adams.

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Recently I was at the allergist, trying to solve the mystery of the incredibly debilitating headaches I've been suffering. No they aren't migraines, already checked that. Checked my sinuses too, cos those are shot, but they are fine too. Last resort I figured was the allergist. Apparently I was wrong, but that's a different story.
I've been afflicted with allergies my entire life. Hayfever, hives and histamines, Oh My! I've had it all. Since I was 7 I've lived in fear of shellfish after a lovely incident involving me, nearly 2 pounds of shrimps, and gigantic hives. Then a few years ago, the day before my terrifying Saturday 7:30 am chemistry final, I broke out in hives again. My hands looked like Mickey Mouse mitts. It was terrifying. The culprit: suspected sodium dioxide allergy, a perservative used in the dried apricots I had been ravenously been consuming. I've been tested for allergies, I was on allergy shots, I have food intolerances, you name it, I had it.

Back to the story: So I go to the allergist, full well expecting to be told my allergies, once again, are so bad I need to become as Boy in the Bubble. Then something shocking happened: they tested me for allergies, and I am not allergic to ANYTHING. That's right, it's a fucking miracle, I am not allergic to anything I thought I was allergic to. Except some wierd mold that's around at the end of summer.

Now after 20 years of avoiding foods which may or may not contain, live near, be prepared near, think about shellfish, now I can eat it. Do you know how much that fucks with your head??? I mean the very thought of, or smell of shrimp makes me near to physically ill. Red Lobster? Smells like death to me. I have been effectively trained and brainwashed that shellfish may in fact kill me, and now they are nothing but food on a plate that lives and dies in it's portable home. Totally freaky. I did eat a shrimp egg roll on Saturday, I picked the shrimp out, but the shrimp mojo did not kill me. Hooray!!

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This is the Titanic, at the bottom of the Atlantic

This is a Chevy Suburban, NOT at the bottom of the Atlantic

This past weekend I drove down to Milwaukee. On my way there I got stuck behind a blue Chevy Suburban from Minnesota. This was not unusual, what was unusual was the license plate. It read: TITANIC I shit you not, let me repeat TITANIC.

Now at first this is hilarious. I mean who names their car after the unsinkable ship that just so happened to sink. The longer you think about this the more clearly disturbing it becomes. Who in the hell names their car after a tremendous tragedy? I mean honest to Pesci, this is just fucked up. If they were trying to express the largeness of their Suburban (which is seriously excessively large), they could have tried GIGANTC or RLLYBIG or ENORMUS, Titanic just seems like a strange choice, if not a wholly inappropriate choice.

Then I started to wonder if they were just man-made disaster junkies. Do they have a Corolla at home with the plate LSITANA (Lusitania), did they name the titanic sized family boat The Edmund Fitzgerald (clearly they must own a gigantic boat, as I can see no other reason to own a Suburban)? Shit, should I rename my Honda Civic UNITD93? Does anyone else see why this is disturbing?

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What do you call a Quarter Pounder in Space?

Samuel L Jackson: A Motherfuckin' Quarter Pounder in space!

The other night while Khrysten may or may not have been inhaling paint fumes, we were discussing why we are so thrilled with the idea of Snakes on a Plane; namely: Sam Jackson. We talked about how Sam Jackson is honestly, the only actor on earth who could pull this film off. And that we are happy to see him return to a genre of film where he can say 'mother fucker' a lot.

We really wished he could have conned George Lucas into letting his Jedi character say something along the lines of "Motherfuckin' Sith" just once in the films. We are not fans of this family friendly Sam Jackson. We are hoping though, that much in his traditional fashion that George Lucas will reissue episodes 1-3, butcher them, and add extraneous stuff. Our recommendations: "Motherfuckin' Yoda!" "Motherfuckin' Obi Wan!" "Motherfuckin' Padawan!" also we would like to see a full frontally nude Ewan McGregor, but that's a different story.

While discussing this we also realized that many Sci-Fi movies could have been made even better with a little Sam Jackson. Some examples:

Alien/Aliens: "Motherfuckin' Aliens!" "Motherfuckin' Chest Burster!"
Mars Attacks: "Motherfuckin' Brainy Martians!"
Independance Day: "Motherfuckin' Mothership!"
War of the Worlds: "Motherfuckers are juicing people!"
The Matrix: "Motherfuckin' Neo, you are coming with me, fuck this pill shit."
Serenity: "Motherfuckin' Mindreaders!" "Motherfuckin' Reavers!"
Blade: "Motherfuckin' Bloodsuckers!"
X-Files: "Motherfuckin' Bees!"
The Fifth Element: "Leeloo's Motherfuckin' Insane!" "That Crazy Bitch is Wearing a Motherfuckin' Tape suit!"
Star Trek Nemesis: "Motherfucker cloned Picard!"
Red Planet: "Motherfuckin' Earth is dying! We need Mars!!"
Pitch Black: "Run Motherfuckers, Run!"
Chronicles of Riddick: "Motherfuckin' Necromongers!"
Contact: "Only Motherfucker's don't believe Ellie Arroway!"

**Also on a Jodi Foster side note we would like to see him in Nell, we imagine it going something like this:
Nell: Hah-nah messer chickabee?
SJ: What? Motherfuckin' Chickabees? Where? Nell, you one crazy bitch.

Finally to bring us full circle:
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: "That Zaphod Beeblebrox is one cool two-headed Motherfucking Hoopy Frood" "That was one good Motherfuckin' Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster!" "What the fuck kind of answer is 42?"

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Next post: The Adventures of Junk Mail and Coaster, Final Battle Mal v. Not Fade Away Angel (While Willow, Tara and Miss Kitty Fantastico look on), Knit Club's New Official uniforms.

News of the Week

Sometimes, the news is too good to pass up. I find this news and bring it to you. So now, I give you the news:

Tina Fey's worst hair ever, and Jimmy Fallon lookin' all adorable!

Mistress Says, "He makes a good bitch, so I'm sure he'll be fine."

Captain Morgan's Newest Flavor: Corpse

Bombs and Puppies Look the Same in a Bag

Grandma Says She Doesn't Like Gangsta-Rap and Porn?

NASA's Arch-Nemesis? Vultures.

Bush's Spanish is as Bad as Mine The picture alone on this one is worth it.

Carpenter Takes Cleanliness to New Level

Catholics and Ritualistic Killings, Together at Last!

Remember: Vote for Dad, Especially if You Live with Him

HIV Scare, Citizens Have 10 Second Glimpse into Life in 3rd World Country

You Can Go Home Again, But Only if You're a Cat

Technically it's Polyandry

Schools Deemed Satanic, Thousands of Children Cheer: "I told you homework was evil!"

Stalin's World Theme Park Makes Prison Camps Fun Again!

It's Just a Game Fuck-Wad!

Bong Hits for Jesus?

Find any news that I missed? Stick it in the comments, if it's good enough I'll post it with a witty title and a link back to you as the super sleuth who found what I missed.

BTW: Just a car update: My Honda is back, safe and sound with a new bumper, a repaired paint jon and they even cleaned what could be clean in my pig-sty of a car! The Honda dealer here does not suck, so if you kive here in Wausau, don't hesitate to take your car there!

Windstar Apocalypsus

Dear Enterprise Rental Car Company,

Please note, when dropping off a car at the Honda dealership for one of their clients, remember that the Honda driver is used to a quality vehicle, a vehicle manufactured in the USA, a vehicle that makes sense, not some excessively large Ford Windstar mini-van (which isn't so mini just for the record). Also the customer would probably prefer some sort of economy car, not the fucking behemoth minivan with a gigantic dent in the rear bumper, and with features that don't shut off in the car for an extended period of time, leading the Honda driver to believe that this will lead to the battery being drained and possibly the end of the world (it could happen). The Honda driver is used to an efficient car that doesn't stay on when there is NO KEY in the ignition. Seriously. They are also used to cars that can be braked in a heel to toe fashion, not in a way that involves the full extention of the drivers leg, if they wanted a work-out for transportation I am sure the Honda owner could have gotten her hands on a bicycle.

The Honda owner would also prefer to make her own decisions as to whether or not she would like to be locked inside of the vehicle while driving it. It seems very dangerous to lock someone in an unfamiliar car, especially considering the rate of horrific automobile accidents in the greater Wausau area. Do you want to be held responsible for the Honda driver dying in a firey death box all because you couldn't or wouldn't buy cars that don't effectively trap the passengers inside? I am sure that the Honda driver is smart enough to not attempt to exit a moving vehicle, afterall they are driving a Honda and thus must possess more intelligence than your average dog, who would jump out of the window and not attempt to use the door handles anyway.

Also don't assume people want a non-smoking vehicle. You may also want to mention to the renter that the vehicle is non-smoking BEFORE they light up only to see on the keyfob the teeny tiny no smoking sign. Just an idea. No pressure here.

Just remember that while you may 'pick up' your clients, when you are picking them up from an auto dealership of an obviously superior vehicle producer to your own fleet of shitty Fords and Chryslers and perhaps a GM or two, maybe you should take that into consideration and not stick them with the lamest vehicle in your fleet. Besides Honda you may want to keep this in mind when picking up people who are located at dealerships which sell the following vehicles: Lexus, Acura, Toyota, BMW, Mercedes, Jaguar, Volkswagen, hell I will even throw Mazda (even though their stock is over 50% controlled by Ford), Hyundai, Mitsubishi and Izuzu into the mix. While every other freak in this town may have replaced themselves and half their extended family with a bevvy of unruly hooligans, this Honda owner is an import, and thus was not subject to the poor sexual education the area obviously has and who had access to abortion services that were not 2+ hours away, and would really prefer to not drive around a gigantic hooligan cage. Because effectively the Ford Windstar is a vehicle made to lock you in the car with your devil children so they can torment you into feeding them benadryl just so you can have a semi-peaceful trip to the OB-GYN to prepare for hooligan #8, or to head to Walmart only to have most recent hooligan projectile vomit while waiting in line at the express check out.
Just a few thoughts,
A Concerned Honda Driver

All Star Jams

ALTERNATE TITLE: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Start Loving Richard Butler.

Richard Butler, being British-ish, and frakking adorable circa the 1980's

Sundays are generally the one day of the week that any thought of ‘work’ or ‘getting my ass off the couch’ is quickly eradicated by my own brain. This last Sunday was no exception.
I woke up too damn early, like 9 am on Sunday early. I curse my internal clock due to my early work schedule. But waking up this early afforded me one luxury: remembering that The Alternative was on VH1 Classic at 10am.

I love The Alternative. It is the only show on any music television (that I can tell) which revels in all the weird ass music I love. It ranges from gothy-synth-laden pop to ska to hard core punk and industrial. Generally the first hour covers the basics: Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, The Psychedelic Furs, Bauhaus, New Order, Erasure, etc… The second hour usually is a bit harder and ranges up through the mid 90’s with bands like Nirvana, the Sex Pistols, Nine Inch Nails, Skankin’ Pickle, No Doubt (before they were popular), Garbage, and a whole range of “College Radio” bands (anyone my age knows what I mean by this, bands like The Ghosts of American Airmen, Love Spit Love, Letters to Cleo, Dada, Paul Westerberg, Dramarama, The Judy Bats, etc…).

But when I first woke up I watched Animal Planet. Breed All About it was on, and it featured Doberman Pinschers. My only issue with this show was that there was a Dobie named Rommel. Who in the hell names their dog after the Nazi military leader who was in charge of the North African campaign in WWII? Honest to god, you might as well name it Mengele or Goebels or just go for it and call him little Hitler (although Hitler preferred German Shepards). I also witnessed a woman dancing with her Dobie, which apparently was some sort of Animal Planet morning theme as the next show also featured some freak dancing with her dog. I next watched a show called Dogs on the Job or some shit like that where I watched Nougat, a golden Lab, hunt for truffles in the South of France. This made me wonder why our good-for-nothing Lab only does things like get stung on the eyebrow by a bee or run into a stick so it protrudes out of her chest cavity, I almost forgot the time she got her ass literally chewed on by a wild dog, and got the porcupine quills in the face. Yeah, Casey’s a regular doggie genius. Then they started talking about Doggie Scouts. This was when I decided to tune in VH1 Classic so as to avoid having to watch this sort of crap.

This was when what may be the finest 20 minutes of late 80’s early 90’s music has ever occurred on the VH1 Classic. All Star Jams was on. They played the following in order:

Bobbie Brown – My Perogative
TLC – Ain’t Too Proud to Beg
Bell Biv Devoe – Poison
Monie Love & Queen Latifah – Ladies First

I need to qualify my former statement of greatness about this 20 minutes of grainy videos featuring corny songs. This was the music that was all the rage when I was just old enough to find music that I liked (not the crap mom and dad listened to, although my mother's taste in music is exceptional). It all came out around 5th grade and spawned through the remainder of my grade school years (I went to a K-8th, no I was not tortured with that whole Middle School thing). So it was kinda awesome to find a 20 minute steak that made me realize my childhood was riddled with some of the foulest music masked as hip-hop-pop. For instance: “Two inches or a yard, rock hard or with it saggin’, I ain’t too proud to beg” Shit. I had no clue when I was screaming “I ain’t too proud to beg” out of school bus windows what this meant. I mean I had an idea, but now at the wise old age of 27 I am a little shocked that someone didn’t slap my scrawy little ass. It’s one thing to know all the words to Baby’s Got Back (no, I will never be ashamed of my gift), it is wholly another to be 11 years old or so and singing about cock size. I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize to Monie Love, cos I completely forgot she existed until seeing her and Queen rap on about ladies coming first (again with the sexual imagery!).

Finally, The Alternative begins. I get myself ready for two hours of bizarre rock goodness. What do I get? Richard fucking Butler.

Richard Butler, as he appears today, less adorable, still very very British.

Now I need to do a small aside: Richard Butler was the lead singer of the group The Psychedelic Furs, which is a band I fucking love. Secondly he fronted the 90’s alternative group Love Spit Love, which was also an amazing band. Apparently he has a solo album out, and the bitch on The Alternative felt the need to tell us all about it. Don't get me wrong. I love me some Richard Butler, but shit, Did I need to see 8 Psychedelic Furs and 3 Love Spit Love videos in 1 hour? Honest to Christ! I didn't know Love Spit Love had any songs that could be video worthy besides their cover of The Smiths "How Soon is Now" which was used both in the movie The Craft but which is also the theme song for the WB show Charmed and "Am I Wrong" from their first album, I didn't realize there was more than one album. I don't even mind that he was on, and was being very British and didn't really say much, what bothered me was that the hostess was so busy jerking him off with praise and compliments that I wanted her to just give up and let him wank alone! (an aside within my aside: I came to realize today that the shit she was reading was right off of the Psychedelic Furs website and was his bio information. Talk about doing her research, where's condescending Amir when we need his journalistic integrity?)

Other than that I was fulfilled by my The Alternative experience. I got my fill of the Mode and the Cure and Erasure and all the bands of yore. Afterwards I stayed with VH1 Classic for basically the rest of the day (mostly cos I was on the phone all afternoon, every so often commenting about my VH1 Classic Experience, eventually coercing my phone partner into turning it on herself). Here are my thoughts on my afternoon date with VH1:

Why does Randy Newman have a music video for anything? I don't care how much he loves LA, he's never getting hot bitches like the ones in the video. The range of possibly getting hot bitches from most unlikely to maybe likely is as follows: #1 Randy Newman, #2 Michael Moore, #3 Matt Pinfield (who only gets babes cos they think he can hook them up with bands and shit).

Sade's "Smooth Operator" is a song we can all agree, doesn't suck at all, and never did.

All videos from the 1970's are not in fact from the 70's, cos there were no music videos then, they were edited together later, and then intercut with strobe lights and trippy visuals.

Someone needs to call Chaka Kahn about her hair and tell her to fire her stylist. Although the video was from the 80's she should find said stylist and fire them again if she hasn't already.

Johnny Rotten was fucking adorable as a young Anti-Christ, and Henry Rollins is still one fine motherfucker.

Isaac Hayes new version of "Shaft" was exactly the same as the old version, only now he could get a real video with Samuel L. Jackson getting bleeped saying motherfucker. Also did anyone else realize Christian "Hottie Batman, Scary Bateman" Bale was in Shaft? Hush yo' mouth.

Khrysten's AOL Music On Demand channels have an entire channel dedicated to Depeche Mode. The only problem is whenever she tries to watch it, it appears that everything has gone to cubes. I determined that they must have fired Anton Corbijn and instead dug Picasso out of his grave and demanded he rework all their videos. Go Mode.

When Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called To Say, I Love You" is on the VH1 Classic and you are on the phone, you can actually recreate the whole video by doing what we have deemed "The Stevie" which is a gentle swaying to and fro with a slight feeling of not knowing what's around you/ It's even better if both you and the person on the other end of the phone are doing this.

The Violent Femmes and They Might Be Giants may have some of the most low-budget minimalist videos from the late 80's but by god they are great bands.

I love VH1 Classic, but not as much as Battlestar Galactica.

BTW: You may notice a new name in my Daily Reads. The newest member is Kellen, who just happens to be my cousin, and who just happens to prove that being smart as hell and funny to boot may be genetic. Sarcasm can be inherited! Go memes!