Mel Gibson: Too insane for Hollywood?

It's official, Mel Gibson may have just created a whole new level of unhinged.  After being offered the opportunity to play a small part in The Hangover 2 just last week, Mel was in the news again this week for quickly having the offer rescinded.  Although there was no specific incident that caused him to lose the part, it was clearly related to his all-encompassing insanity.
Apparently the stars of the film, all of them, made it clear they had no interest in working with Mel.  Yes, he was blackballed by the guys who starred in the first film, unofficially making him more undesirable to work with than Mike Tyson, an ass-naked Ken Jeong, and a tiger combined.  Epic.
Sorry Mel, looks like it's back to the Jesus-beating movies for you.  Hey... that doesn't have a sequel yet does it?

World Cup octopus predicts everything but his own death

Tragedy struck the world of soccer, the world of precognition, and the world of deep sea invertebrates simultaneously yesterday.  Paul, the man-named octopus oracle who successfully prophesied many of the winners of the 2010 World Cup, passed away in his sleep (I assume next to some sexy cephalopod who he'd bedded thanks to his fame) early Tuesday.
Sadly, the dearly departed Paul was able to see everything that was coming except his own impending demise.  That is unless for months he's been lying awake at night, troubled by his visions of the future going dubiously blank on October 26th.  In any case, Paul is no more.
We'll miss you buddy.  In life, you were captivating, charming and wise.  In death, I'm sure you'll be delicious.

LOST: Charlie Sheen's clothes and mind...

...if found, please report to NO ONE.  Why?  Because Charlie Sheen is gift from God.  His antics are a joyous freshwater spring of hilarity in which I soak myself whenever his name pops up in the headlines.  And lucky me, guess who's back in the news. 
Yes the troubled star was happened upon by police in his NY hotel this morning and reported as drunk, naked, and out of control (as if there's any other way to party).  Sheen, whose company consisted of a solitary young lady (of whom I'm sure had many fine, Christian reasons for being there), apparently noticed his wallet had gone missing and flew into a violent rage.  Or, as it will be referred from this day forward, proceeded to Charlie Sheen all over the place.  I mean honestly, isn't it time we gave this guy his due?  He has been busting his ass for the last twenty some-odd years to impress us with his sheer insanity, and it's become abundantly clear that it's because he wants "going insane" to henceforth be called "Charlie Sheening."  And it damn well should.
After all, we are talking about a 45 year old man who was just apprehended after completely trashing his hotel room while stark naked (with his Two and a Half Men hanging out, mind you), only 2 months removed from rehab and only 6 months removed from an incident in which he may or may not have tried to stab his wife.  And what do his publicists say?  That "Mr. Sheen had an adverse allergic reaction to some medication."  They should be terminated immediately.  I will gladly replace them, and I will happily offer the press and police and subsequent judges and juries much more accurate and pertinent explanations of the celebrity's riotous shenanigans :
"Mr. Sheen had a tremendously magnificent reaction to a whole shit-ton of booze and decided, as is his right, to go fucking Charlie Sheen all over everyone's asses. Topper Harley for life!  Peace!"

Will Smith: Child Pimp

Where have you gone, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air?  A nation turns its lonely eyes to you...
Let me just start by saying that I have always been a huge Will Smith fan.  The guy does everything.  And he does everything well.  Could I have lived without Hitch?  Sure.  Would I miss Hancock if it were never made?  Doubtful.  Would the world be an undoubtedly better place if neither he, nor anyone else, had ever gotten Jiggy Wit' It?  Absolutely.  But still, he's Will Smith.  He's the man.  And anything he did that was even a little less than stellar was excusable by his role on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air alone.  Or at least it was, until now.
Willow Smith must be stopped.  I hesitate to even write this post for fear of accidentally contributing to her cause, but I needed to warn the masses who have been lucky enough to not yet be exposed.  SHE MUST BE STOPPED.
For reasons beyond rational comprehension, the child pimping of Will and Jada Pinkett Smith has not stopped with Jaden (remaking the Karate Kid is blatant sacrilege, and I was even willing to let that slide).  Now their 9 year old daughter is invading our airwaves and our lives with her overly flamboyant hair (and I hate to say it, but her dad's ears too, the poor kid).  That's right, 9 year old Willow Smith has released her first single "Whip My Hair" and it is taking the country by storm.  And why shouldn't it be?  She's 9 after all, and clearly ready for the spotlight.  I mean, if she wasn't, would she have the maturity to artistically tackle a song about arbitrarily flinging her hair all over the place?  I think not.
Note the sarcasm Will (that's right, I'm assuming one of my 4 fans must be Big Willy).  It's not every day I write a blog attacking a 9 year old, but you did this Will.... Not me.  And only you can stop it before it's too late.  If you're hard up for cash I can talk to some people and see if I can't get you a few hours at a Radio Shack or something.  But this?  No good sir, you are better than this.

Check and mate

As I walked across campus a few days ago I was stopped in my tracks when I saw this.  After asking around I found out it was a promotion for a course USC is offering next semester that teaches strategy (or strategery to the layperson) through chess.  The man pictured here is international chess master and LA Times columnist Jack Peters, who spent a leisurely afternoon playing ten games of chess simultaneously, and winning.
I, on the very same day, spent an hour writing a joke about how I can't wait to get really old so I can fart in public and get away with stealing.  Which was followed by finding myself palpably jealous of a little kid on the bus because of his kick ass Spider-Man backpack.
Let's hear it for adulthood!

Greetings Mr. President!

On the heels of President Barack Obama's visit to USC this Friday, I was delightfully tickled to see this little gem as I walked off campus today.  I couldn't help but picture the President arriving tomorrow to the site of himself sporting a Hitler mustache.  That can't be an easy pill to swallow.  I imagine he'll start freaking out  and the secret service guards will have to reign him in by rubbing his back for an hour and reassuring him that it's nonsense; "Oh come now Barack, Hitler was soooo mean and you're like a super swell guy!"  Or, maybe they try to convince him it's actually a reference to Michael Jordan.  Or maybe they just avoid the trouble in the first place by sneaking up behind the people parading the poster around and choking them out Metal Gear Solid style before the President's fragile psyche is shattered.
In any case, I just wish I could be on hand to see how that plays out.  But alas, I don't have class on Fridays, so why the hell would I go to campus?  To see the President?  Ummm, no.  I'll take sleeping in till noon thank you very much.
And lastly, I would just like to applaud the makers of this poster for their poignant and relevant comparison.  Because let's be honest, when you think of another world leader who held power during a time of economic turmoil who comes to mind?... Hitler.  Exactly.

The NFL just wants to play nice

In a move that makes perfect sense with the NFL at its height in popularity, commissioner Roger Goodell has decided that defensive backs really shouldn't be so mean.  Apparently too many people are getting boo boos and it's time to start fining those big bad defensive players who are doing their job too well.
An illegal hit in football?  That should be defined only as attacking an opposing player with some kind of medieval weaponry.  Otherwise... I'll allow it.
But thanks to the NFL's nagging worry that Tom Brady might sprain his hair or God forbid Wes Welker gets the scrappy knocked out of him, it's time to play nice.
So you can look forward to ESPN reincarnating their popular "Jacked Up!" segment as a brand new halftime feature on Monday Night Football called "Pushed out of bounds really efficiently!"

The Vanilla Ice Project is here!

It's time to let loose that collective sigh of relief America, your long and arduous wait is finally over, for the Iceman cometh.  Yes, it's true, all these years you've toiled away in a senseless world that left you unable to tune in weekly to see Vanilla Ice remodel a home are over at long last... because  The Vanilla Ice Project is finally here!
That's right, the very same DIY network that brought us groundbreaking hits like Bathtastic and Kitchen Impossible have unleashed their greatest gift to the world yet to date - Robert Van Winkle: Licensed Contractor.
So please join me in mind and spirit this Thursday at 9pm, and tune in to the DIY network for the show's premiere, in the hopes that the theme song is a remix of a familiar old tune...

If you got an old house, yo I'll flip it

Buy it from the bank, mad cheap, low interest

Ice Ice Baby

...word to your broker...

Movies that haunted my childhood: Part IV- Gremlins

The Gremlins were born the same year I was, 1984.  The similarities end there.  I wasn't conceived as a little fur ball that popped off the spine of a wet Mogwai, and my puberty didn't involve a slimy, steaming cocoon from which I emerged a completely changed and hideous creature... well, there was definitely no cocoon.  Yet somehow, all my attempts at merchandising myself have failed miserably, while these freaky little bastards were all over the place from lunch boxes, to t-shirts, to action figures and stuffed animals.  I will simply never understand how this became so popular with kids.  Awesome film, sure.  Child safe... not so sure.

Yeah Gizmo was a cute, furry little guy, but he spent most of his time singing that fruity little song.  The majority of the film was graced by demonic, acid trip, koala-looking psychopaths torturing helpless small town people.  These delightful little characters are somehow made exponentially creepier by their uncanny ability to apparently fashion tiny clothing for events like a night out at the bar or Christmas caroling.  But somehow, it's not just the little creatures that supply the nightmare fuel here.  Seriously, go back and watch it again, because you might find Gremlins is a little more murdery than you remember.
Right off the bat we meet the lovely Mrs. Deagle, who tells Billy she wants to torture and kill his dog... slowly.  Charming.  Don't worry though, she's eventually murdered too.  Let's see, among the other deaths include a mangled teacher, a gremlin chopped up by a juicer, a gremlin stabbed OJ style, and a gremlin microwaved alive (all at the hands of Billy's mom, by the way, whose bad-ass has the most gremlin kills by far), a couple run down by a gremlin-piloted snowplow, and finally the lead gremlin's skin melting off his creepy little body.
Yeah, that's kind of a lot of murder.
Don't worry too much for my well-being though, Gremlins didn't scar me so badly that it left these vivid details burned in my psyche.  I just happen to have watched it again recently, and let me say I probably should've named this post "Movies that haunted my childhood and mid-twenties," because it is still pretty damn horrifying... but you can bet your ass I'll be watching The New Batch tomorrow night, because that's just good stuff.

Even pictures of Brett Favre's wiener are being intercepted

The recent news of Brett Favre's wayward wang is somehow even more hilarious than him throwing yet another game winning pass to the other team.
Apparently while the stubbled warrior was donning the green and white, he decided it was best to use his time harassing a key, and I'm sure extremely qualified, member of the Jets staff, along with some private contractors (wouldn't want to leave anyone out).  The ageless wonder has been all over the news lately (except in Minneapolis somehow) for his apparently dogged pursuit of Miss Jenn Sterger through constant, unreturned phone calls, and penis photography (obviously).
While not necessarily the conventional route, you have to admit Favre courts a woman like he plays football, fast and loose.  Is she not acknowledging your desperate voicemails?  Time to initiate phase two: sending her pictures of your dong. Priceless.
It's a ballsy move, but what if it had worked?  15 years from now the former Miss Sterger could be Mrs. Favre II (because let's not forget Brett is actually married) and telling her kids the story of how she and their father met...
"Well it's a funny story kids, because at first, I simply wasn't interested.  Your dad's down home, country charm just wasn't going over in the big city.  But he kept at it.  Every day he'd try to call me and I'd ignore him.  Then I'd wind up with 20 voicemails, each somehow more pathetic than the last.  He had hit a wall.
Until one fateful autumn day when I got a picture message on my cell phone.  And there it was.  His little quarterback.  Conventional game planning wasn't working, but in true Brett Favre fashion, he threw up a hail mary and sent me photos of his naked wiener.  And well... the rest is history."

El Doppleganger!

At long last I have found him... I give you, Spanish Ron Burgundy!
Sure, the ad says he's a lawyer, but am I really supposed to believe this is anyone but Will Ferrell?  Could these Los Angeles bus ads be the beginning of a viral marketing campaign for the long awaited sequel to Anchorman?  God I hope so.
Until we know for sure though, you stay classy San Juarez.

p.s.  I am already anticipating my favorite scene in this sequel to be this:
- Good evening, I'm Ronaldo Burgandios?
- Damn it!  Who put a question mark on the teleprompter??

No habla...

Well, this is by far the greatest billboard I've ever seen (and that includes those delightful religious messages I saw on my way through Texas), and I have no idea what it means.  But that may be the best thing about it.  Rather than go to freestranslations.com like any other student who took four years of spanish in high school has to (don't judge me, I know it definitely says "hour" and "tomorrow"), I prefer to just guess what this absolute gem of an advertisement is trying to say:

- "I like dinosaurs!"

- Please send your tax deductible donations to the Foundation for Severe Head Injury Research, because Diego needs your help!

- "Have you seen my baseball?"

- Be the ninth caller to 101.9 in the morning and I'll kidnap your children, no questions asked!

- Feeling down?  Call our suicide hotline 24 hours a day... because saving lives is our primary GOOOOAAAALLLL!!!!

Next stop 7th & aggravated assault

Today I had the pleasure of witnessing an extremely rational reaction by a man who was forced to get off at a different bus stop due to construction.  Here is the transcript:

Man: Stop the bus please!
Bus Driver: Where?
Man: On 7th!
Bus Driver: I can't stop there sir.
Man: There is a bus stop there, I need to get off!
Bus Driver: I can't let you out here.
Man: Where am I supposed to get off?!
Bus: Next stop is 5th.
Man: (Now screaming, and I'm talking eyes blind with rage, neck veins popping out screaming) 5th is TOO FAR! (5th is not really that far from 7th, as I'm sure you gathered from your knowledge of the numerical system)  Let me off now!!! (we're 3 lanes away from the curb by the way, so he is demanding to be let out in the middle of LA traffic)
Bus Driver:  I'm sorry I can't sir.
Man: (Screaming so hard his face is now shaking like his skin may actually leap from his skull) Let me off NOW you stupid fucking ass!!!
Bus Driver: Sir if you don't calm down I'm going to call the police.
Man: I don't care!!! (Shrieking wildly, not unlike the screaming caterpillar from The Simpsons who you can now friend on facebook)  I'm going to talk to your supervisor!!! (yeah, that threat is on an equal plane with calling the police)
Bus Driver: You can get off at 5th sir (we're basically at 5th now)
Man: It is too far!!! Let me off!! (bus comes to a stop at 5th and the doors slowly open) HURRY UP YOU ASS!!!!  HURRRRYYYY!

The man then hopped out the back door of the bus, and oddly enough for someone who you would think was in a rush, took the time to run to the front door of the bus to berate the driver to his face. It was harder to hear in the street traffic but I was able to make out "you fucking mother fucker!" Which seemed like the logical next thing to say.
Unfortunately I was unable to get a cell phone video of this event, which would surely have been youtube gold.  But this man was standing close enough to me to cut my head off, and based purely on his sunny disposition, I assume he was wielding a machete.

Movies that haunted my childhood: Part III- Ghost Dad

Bill Cosby pretty much always adds up to good old fashioned family fun.  After all, who was a more comforting TV dad than the affable Cliff Huxtable (maybe Danny Tanner, but that was later and there was always the sneaking suspicion he might be gay)?  For the majority of my childhood though, anything with Bill Cosby in it was unfailingly light hearted and entertaining.  In any case, it was hard to imagine I'd ever find myself terrified of the guy from the JELLO pudding commercials, but that was before I saw Ghost Dad.

You see Bill Cosby isn't scary, but killing him and having him come back from beyond the grave is.  Right off the bat we see Cliff friggin' Huxtable fall of a bridge and die at the hands of a crazed lunatic, Satan-worshiping taxi driver.  Nice start (although it is still hilarious when Bill Cosby tells the driver he's his dark lord).  And did I mention that his wife in the movie is already dead?  Oh but don't worry kids, sure you're orphans... but Dad will be back to see you soon.  Ominous much?

For the rest of the film we get to watch the lovable Elliot Hopper (Cosby) try to maintain his career and family life, all without the benefit of a beating heart.  And how you ask, does he communicate with the ones he's left behind in the world of the living?  Easy, they can see him when the lights are turned off.  That's a healthy concept to feed to children. As if there aren't enough pants-shitting possibilities in a child's imagination about what might happen when the lights go out.  Needless to say, for the next year or so every time my parents put me to bed I was positive I was going to see Bill Cosby's dead ass standing over me as soon as they hit the switch.
So I must extend a huge thanks to Universal Pictures, because not only did you murder Bill Cosby, you brought him back to haunt me.  Bravo.

Life at the Crosswalk

I had an interesting morning, where within one short hour I was able to run the gamut of the entire human experience while driving around LA.
While dropping off a package in Beverly Hills I had to stop to let a woman pass who was jogging in full jewelry and makeup alongside her silk neckerchief wearing labra-doodle-poo (I don't know what the hell it was but I assume it was one of those unholy hybrid freakdogs).  As she disappeared behind the remote controlled gate surrounding her massive home I couldn't help but feel slightly unaccomplished.
That is until, only a cool 3 miles later, I had to slam on the brakes when a kindly vagabond (gotta be PC) evidently took the "Don't Walk" sign as the "Now is as good a time as any to push your Hummer-sized shopping cart across the street while rubbing yourself and screaming arbitrarily" sign.
Suddenly, I thought I wasn't so unaccomplished.  Then I thought I was kind of a dick for reacting that way.  Then I wondered what if that was Steve Buscemi researching for his role in Big Daddy II? Then I got his autograph.

It's not a comic book, it's a graphic novel!

USC recently obtained the costumes from Superman Returns and The Dark Knight and put them on display in the big fancy lobby of the George Lucas building.
As I snapped this picture it occurred to me that I was also wearing a Batman t-shirt... and that I have likely never looked like more of a nerd than at that very moment.  I was basically a retainer away from super-virgin.
Let's hear it for adulthood!

Today on Tyra: "Face accessories you can fashion from your dad's old fishing equipment"

So, um either Tyra Banks has officially lost her damn mind and completely jumped the shark... or she ran headlong into a tennis net at her weekly lesson and is trying to make the best of a bad situation... or she accidentally waffle ironed her face... or she was testing out her Hellraiser halloween costume.... or she was involved in a freak shrimping boat accident swimming off the Gulf Coast... or her doctor wants to be sure she won't gnaw at the stitches on her hind paw... Any other theories?  Leave them in the comment section.