Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Lord Jeter, I worship humbly at your feet

According to a recent report by the NY Post, following one-night stands, New York Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter refuses to let his lady-guests leave empty handed. Instead, when they climb into the car he's prearranged to whisk them away before they try staying for breakfast (that's gentlemanly in itself), they're greeted by a gift basket chock full of memorabilia signed by the future Hall of Famer.
Astounding. This man's generosity knows no bounds. Not only has he selflessly refused to be wed just so countless hoards of gorgeous women can continue to enjoy his gentle, yet robust love making, but he's offering them parting gifts as well?
It's undeniable, Derek Jeter is a saint. And yet he asks for nothing in return. But justice must must be served, so if he won't speak up, I will. And I solemnly vow to you here today, that from now until the day I die, I will vehemently argue that not only should he be a first ballot entry into the Baseball Hall of Fame, but that the maiden entry into the (yet to be constructed) Earth Hall of Fame be a bronze bust of Jeter, with three sincere words inscribed below: "Simply the best."
(You guys can't see me right now, but I'm singing "Simply the Best" and weeping openly)

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Reason #5,376,981 not to have kids: Vodka soaked ass-tampons

My God, why is this a thing?

Sure, I drank like any other teenager. I found a way to get my hands on alcohol, and then I found a time and place to drink it without getting caught. And since such a large portion of my plan was devoted to not being caught, I decided that time and place wasn't 7th period Social Studies. Of course, I would've loved to have been hammered to get through class and get away with it, but it wasn't a realistic option, so I didn't do it.
But apparently, today's teenagers are a much different breed of resourceful/fucking disgusting than I was, so they've found a solution. When given the choice between getting through class sober, or pursing their anus around a vodka soaked tampon, they've elected to go with the latter. And why not? It's genius! Not only does it conceal the alcohol odor, but it gets it into your system much, much faster (Also, it makes for a hilarious play on words when the teacher calls the principal's office and says "Well, there's no sign of alcohol, but he really seems to be drunk off his ass.").
If there's one positive you can take from this though, it's the visual of a group of teenage boys staring at the one kid who struggles and chokes as he tries to suck the vodka out of a tampon. Then, waiting until he's done of course, the sideways hat-wearing, alpha-douche of the group laughs "You're such a GAYWAD dude, you do it like this -" and shoves a tampon up his own ass.
America's youth. Drink it in...

Monday, November 14, 2011

The greatest work of art ever?

About a week ago I did a stand-up show at a Mexican restaurant (because I'm famous), where rather than performing in front of a traditional backdrop like a brick wall, or a curtain, I got to perform in front of a mural so odd, so complex and so terrifyingly beautiful, that I spent the entirety of the show examining it for your benefit. Feast your eyes...

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The United States of Egregious Lawsuits

Apparently, a Michigan woman is suing the distributors of the movie Drive because she felt misled by the trailer, which had her believing the movie would feature, well... a lot more driving. Some would call this lawsuit completely unwarranted, but I say this woman is an American patriot railing against a broken system that constantly misinforms its consumers, and I applaud her. In fact, I have decided to join her on the front lines of our judicial system in launching several suits of my own:

Crunchy Brain Doodles v. Dolphin Tale
Judging purely by the name of this film, I was taken completely aback when I saw that the dolphin in question had no tail at all. Frankly, it was disgusting.

Crunchy Brain Doodles v. R.L. Stine
Mr. Stine must be held accountable for Goosebumps books #4 and #38, respectively titled "Say Cheese and Die" and "Beware, the Snowman," which both downright failed to give me even one case of goosebumps. Pathetic.

Crunchy Brain Doodles v. Ducktales
The creators of this beloved children's show displayed brazen carelessness in presenting a pile of gold coins and gems as a permeable liquid through which one can swim. Justice can only be served in the form of compensation for the severe neck and spinal trauma I sustained on a recent tour of a bank vault.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Get Motivated (you worthless shit)!

It's time to get the hell up and do something with yourself! And if you're in LA this October 31st, you're in luck because the world's premiere motivational seminar is going to be right here at the Staples Center (though it seems to me they're fighting an uphill battle to even get people motivated enough to leave they're house on Halloween rather than sitting at home in their underwear eating candy they "bought for the kids" that never come to their apartment building). Some of the world's most highly regarded speakers will be on hand to teach you the secrets to their success. And because I want to see you make something of yourself, I'm offering a little preview of what you can expect from a few of the big name speakers...

Rudy Guiliani, former Mayor of New York City
Mr. Giuliani promises to wow the audience with his insights on how to obtain one of the world's most prominent political positions in spite of having been born with a freak pumpkin-head. He'll also divulge, in great detail, the benefits of blowing off a chance at the White House in order to make the most of your Yankees season tickets and keep your schedule open for ironic cameos on Saturday Night Live.

Lou Holtz, Hall of Fame football coach
This former Notre Dame gipper is known as one of the greatest in history at delivering inspirational speeches to his players. Now, thanks to this seminar, you will get to experience it first-hand. Coach Holtz will prove to you that not even an Eek the Cat-like speech impediment can come between you and your future success (Note: panchos will be handed out to those in the first 5 rows, also known as the saliva splash zone).

Bill Cosby, legendary actor/comedian
The first half of your lecture from "the Cos" will reveal to you all the secrets of how to become one of the world's biggest comics, a beloved sitcom dad, and a world-renowned pudding peddler. While part 2 of his speech will focus on how to then transition into a crotchety old fuck who calls other comics to tell them they shouldn't swear and who may or may not have a serious history of sexual abuse.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

10 Facts you know are true but won't admit

Recently, I've been pondering (i.e. making mental notes while sitting on the toilet) the many truths out there that the world refuses to admit exist. Thanks to worries about political correctness, public perception and embarrassment, people are afraid to acknowledge certain things as fact. Lucky for you though, hiding behind a laptop and writing for a miniscule audience has rendered me completely unafraid of any and all of these repercussions, so here they are, 10 facts you know are true but won't admit:

- You hate your kids for the dream killing, bank account draining, booger factories they are.

- Black people are better at Wii basketball.

- You have watched an unjustifiable amount of "The Golden Girls"... and you've loved every minute.

Thank you for being a friend...
- When you're alone in your car, you get really into those super-low, spoken word, bass parts of Boyz II Men songs.

- You've considered pushing a woman into oncoming traffic for carrying her dog in her purse.

- You cried like a baby when you watched the opening scene of "Up" (the jig is up fellas).

- You don't actually understand how the radio works.

- You hate everyone who uses the term "staycation."

- You are completely mystified by the fact that women stop menstruating when they're in the water.

- You have no fucking idea where Guam is.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Everything I know I learned from movie shows: Part II

After a long and eventful layoff that included no internet access, a narcotics sting, and a brief stay in a Taiwanese prison, Crunchy Brain Doodles is back and recovering nicely from that case of scurvy (enjoy your collective sigh of relief now, WORLD).
So now I present to you, a mere month and five days after the original post, essential life lessons you can learn through film, part II:

Everybody loves a soul-less whore.
If the person you're in love with is ashamed of you, the problem is definitely you: Yes, thanks once again to the veritable cornucopia of life lessons that is GREASE, you can quickly learn that all it takes to make someone love you is to alter every last fundamental part of who you are as a person. Oh and be sure to start smoking. 
Played to perfection by miss Olivia Newton-John, the character of Sandy found herself smack in the middle of a serious conundrum: She loved Danny Zuko, and he was into her too, but how could he possibly be expected to admit that in public with her admirable GPA and complete lack of a criminal record staring everyone in the face? So Sandy did what every teenage girl should be taught to do in this situation, forget all that horse shit about who you truly are on the inside and mold yourself into an empty replica of what he wants you to be. Susan B. Anthony would be so proud...

Your dad's death wouldn't be nearly as much of a bummer as you'd thought: Let me just start by posing this question; "What didn't GHOST DAD teach us?" That movie was chock full of important lessons, such as: 
1) Ghosts are completely visible, provided the lights are off.
2) Taking a cab at any point is taking your life in your hands.
3) Death in the family often leads to madcap hilarity.
4) The secret to the most impressive magic tricks is often the help the magician's father is giving him from beyond the grave.
5) Not even your earthly demise will change the fact that your teenage daughter is a total bitch.

If anyone can get SallieMae off your back, it's this dude.
Financial troubles are easily solved by a treasure hunt: Recently I was asked if I was beginning to worry about the ever-growing mountain of debt the federal government refers to as my student loans, and thanks to GOONIES, I was able to answer that query with a confident "hell no." 
Seeing as how I learned everything I know from the movies I watched as a child, I am fully aware that when financial issues have you backed up against a wall the smartest thing you can do is search through your attic for a treasure map, then proceed to climb down a hole with a deformed man-beast in a Superman t-shirt. Long story short, problem solved.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Everything I know I learned from movie shows: Part I

It occurred to me recently that many of the most important lessons I have ever learned, I learned from watching movies. In fact, I can't remember anything of value being instilled in me that wasn't done so by a film (thanks for nothing, loving parents). Now, in celebration of the wealth of knowledge that modern cinema bestowed on my budding young mind, I pass along these, the most essential life lessons you can learn through film, part I:
Summer Lovin' got me ten to twelve in San Quentin...
Men and women are very different (also known as the True Love/Sexual Assault Paradigm): Thanks to the jaunty musical GREASE, you'll quickly learn that when recounting a summer fling in song form, women will beg the question "Tell us more, tell us more, was it love at first sight?" While men will query "Tell us more, tell us more, did she put up a fight?" So, to sum up, women will be largely concerned with whether or not two people were truly connected from the first time they met, while men will basically just want to know if you had to rape her.

Having kids is a horrible idea: All it takes is one viewing of the film adaptation of the classic Roald Dahl book CHARLIE & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY (the one with Gene Wilder that's actually named for Willy Wonka, not the one where Johnny Depp plays an albino pedophile) to learn that having kids is the wrong move. Why you ask? Because children are terrible people, as evidenced by the fact that Charlie was able to inherit an entire candy factory based purely on the merit of not being a total piece of shit. Yes, children are by in large so awful that Willy Wonka's deciding process was essentially: "Well, every other kid here is a complete asshole, so I guess you're the winner."

Where to drive drunk:  First off, let me start by saying that drunk driving is unbelievably moronic and dangerous and no one anywhere should do it, ever. Having said that, if you're go to do it anyway, at least do it in Minnesota. Why the north star state? Simple. Because as THE MIGHTY DUCKS so astutely pointed out, if you get caught there, your penalty will likely be a court mandate demanding that you coach a rag-tag pee wee hockey team to frozen glory. Quack, quack, quack...

Friday, August 5, 2011

Man v. Food: A study in indirect homicide

You've all probably seen an episode of Man v. Food. If you haven't, stop reading immediately, go to the Travel Channel website, and soak it in.... Done? You're welcome.
Now let me be clear, this is in no way an attack on the entertainment value of this show. Rather, it is an open question about what it means for us as a people that it's so popular.
I myself happen to love this show. As disgusted as I am by the fact that it exists, when I see it pop up on my channel guide I just can't resist. There's just something so alarmingly engaging about watching Adam Richman fill his shapeless body to the brim with quantities and forms of food that simply shouldn't be stuffed inside of anyone. The real problem is, I can't tell if my interest is piqued by how he will finish an 11-lb. pizza, or if it's something much darker, like the morbid curiosity of what it's like to watch a man slowly die.
"Why have none of you people stopped me?!"
Now in season four, I can't help but wonder how much time could possibly be left on Mr. Richman's cardiac clock. And when he inevitably croaks with a gullet full of Dagwood sandwich, aren't we all kind of to blame? Jumping from challenge to challenge has had a noticeable effect on Adam's girth, and there's no denying that in those inevitable mid-challenge moments when his breathing slows and the pallor disappears from his face, that he looks like he's in the early stages of a massive heart attack (they should seriously consider changing the name of this show to Man v. Mortality, because I swear if you look closely back at the 5-lb. cheesesteak episode, somewhere around minute seventeen you can actually see Death sitting at a table in the corner reading a newspaper). I know, I know, it's impossible to change the channel when Adam is plowing through "The Devil's Asshole" hot wings challenge, with his sweat beading so heavily you just know it's covering every last inch of his weird, lumpy body (that dude must have to wear Sham-Wow underwear), but by staying glued to the screen, aren't we all just helping to murder him? I think we are, and frankly, I don't know if I can live with this on my conscience.
As a people, I think it's crucial that we band together and refuse to watch this program. As fun as it is, I just don't want this guy's impending demise falling on me, and neither should you.

Next Week: An in-depth analysis on the irreparable damage Man V. Food is doing to our foreign relations.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

I LOL'ed my balls off when they shot that guy through the eye

I think it's safe to say we're all glad to be rid of Osama Bin Laden, but is this really the right reaction? Have we stooped so low on the intelligence meter as a society that we're reacting to the culmination of a ten year manhunt for the most evil man on the planet with internet acronyms? That's just sad. How sad? Sad enough that I'm literally SMH.
But honestly, is anyone ever actually doing what these acronyms would suggest they're doing? Am I supposed to believe that when the driver of this truck witnessed President Obama announcing Bin Laden's death his reaction was to "laugh his ass off"? And if that was his actual reaction, doesn't that make him clinically insane? Some people reflected in quiet closure, some stormed the streets with American flags, but this guy just sat in his living room laughing uncontrollably like some very special kind of lunatic.
Then again, this may be totally legit, because with one simple glance down at his bumper we can see that proper reactive etiquette isn't exactly this guy's strong suit; "Hmmm, what is the right way to subtly tell the world my parents are both dead?... Why, the perfect way to tell the world anything they need to know of course, a personalized license plate!"

Friday, July 15, 2011

Most Dangerous Cities in America: A Comprehensive Guide to Planning the Worst Trip of Your Life

"We'll call you when we get to Macon!"
While doing some research at work about the worst places in America (quickly turned my residual pride from the 4th of July into deep, deep shame), I discovered some very troubling facts. For instance, did you know that in 2010 alone there were 223 documented murders in Baltimore, MD (a tidbit noticeably absent on their tourism pamphlet)? That means that in order for The Wire to have been truly accurate, they would've had to have one to three people arbitrarily shot in the background of every single scene. No small task.
In any case, seeing such facts made it clear to me that I should share my knowledge with my readers, lest they unknowingly plan a vacation of doom. So here's the rundown on the most dangerous cities in America. Enjoy!

Compton, California- Apparently all of Dr. Dre's ringing endorsements were true.
Stockton, California- The tempers here are shorter than the purple shorts of their namesake.
Washington, DC- Come for the cherry blossoms, stay for the aggravated assault.
Atlanta, Georgia- It's not all roller rinks and peaches, there's also a lot of blood.
Macon, Georgia- The three headlines that come up on Google News are murder, brawl and dismemberment, in no particular order.
Orlando, Florida- Sure Mickey Mouse only wears shorts, but you can bet your balls he's hiding a switchblade in them.
Gary, Indiana- Boasting the childhood home of the Jackson Five, Joe Jackson was responsible for 73% of the crime from 1950-1960.
New Orleans, Louisiana- Most murders per capita = A new city nickname: The Big Easy To Die Here.
Flint, Michigan- Hard to believe there would be so much crime in a city with such an uplifting motto.
Detroit, Michigan- A city whose primary exports are cars, blind rage and alcoholism.
St. Louis, Missouri- That trademark band-aid under Nelly's eye isn't a fashion statement, it's from the repeated face stabbings he endures each time he goes home.
Camden, New Jersey- Looking down their noses at those pussies in Philly since 1828.
Newark, New Jersey- You'd really expect more from the home of the Devils.
Trenton, New Jersey- Home to Thomas Edison State College, and their infamous mascot, the Soiled Pants.
Albany, New York- State capital of New York. U.S. capital of savagely beaten, drunk college kids.
Poughkeepsie, New York- Come see the leaves change on the Hudson and witness the great southern migration of the five-tooth crackhead.
Cincinnati, Ohio- Statistically, if you steer clear of the Bengals you should be fine.
Cleveland, Ohio- What LeBron really took to South Beach was his desire to be able to leave his panic room.
Youngstown, Ohio- They were going to call it Oldstown but everyone there either moves or is killed before the age of 25.
Houston, Texas- Ever since the arrival of that Chinese giant, the whole city has been up in arms.

So please readers, use these facts wisely when planning your next vacation. Heck, maybe even just spend the week at home and have yourself a stay-cation. Just don't call it a stay-cation, because that makes you a fucking asshole.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Caught a bad case of the Vegases

When you see this you have got to feel sorry (or sorrier) for anyone who was actually born in Las Vegas, because apparently it's SO widely accepted that their hometown is an unstoppable cesspool of disease that it's completely acceptable to just throw it on a billboard. I mean, consider this, wouldn't it suck if you were from Topeka and you'd casually just hear people saying: "You just came back from where? Topeka? Better get your dick checked..." That's exactly what residents of Vegas have to deal with, and if that's not harsh enough now we're plastering their flaws on three-story high ads. You don't see any billboards touting New York as the bum-piss capital of the world, or Tampa Bay as having the nation's only 3-to-1 stripper to person-with-a-soul ratio, yet we treat the City of Lights with such careless disregard?
Ouch. Sorry Vegasites... Vegans... Vegasians? Whatever the hell you are. Sorry.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Coors Light: Official beer of the NFL, and Satan

Yummy as a bag of buttholes.
Recently, I spent my day tweeting away about the evils of Coors Light and their unholy marketing strategies only to see, not even a week later, that yet another horse shit ad campaign had been unleashed upon us. Now Coors Light was offering a label that would not only tell you when your beer was cold, but also inform you that "Oh, guess what, this beer is now Super Fucking Cold" (or some shit like that). And not only were they telling you when your beer was "Super Cold," but they were doing so with genius commercial spots featuring Ice Cube arguing with a bottle of Coors Light (FYI Ice Cube, you lost the chance of anyone ever thinking you're "cold" again when you made "Are We There Yet?").
Anyway, I decided that since my Twitter rant had evidently gone unnoticed (there's no blow to the ego like realizing a massive corporation doesn't follow your microblogging habits), it was time to reach out to world with a full-on blog post. One that will hopefully bring Coors Light to its knees once and for all.

An open letter to the soulless bastards at the Coors Light marketing department:
A wider mouth + color changing label mountains + a view window on the box + a home draft pack + Super Cold Activation + some giant silver train that somehow rips through the streets without ever running someone over = Congratulations, you have mastered the creation of gimmicks. Now consider putting that same effort into deciphering the brewing process, because your beer is unspeakably terrible.
- A temperature cannot double as a marketing initiative. Claiming to brew the world's coldest beer is like Campbell's telling us we should eat Chunky because it's the world's hottest soup. It makes no sense. Besides, everyone knows we should eat Campbell's Chunky soup because Donovan McNabb's mom says so.
A taste as cold as the Rockies? News flash, cold is not a fucking taste, it's a feeling. And on that note I know my beer is cold when I feel it with my hand. I don't need some paint-by-numbers label to help me crack the case. Even on a blind test I'm confident I'd know if it's cold or not, and on top of that I could even figure whether or not it's Coors Light based on whether it tastes like a Budweiser that has already gone through, and subsequently been peed out of me.
In summation, the only gimmick that will ever get me to drink your "beer" is if every 18-pack came with twenty bucks, and even then, I really can't say for sure. So enjoy your impossibly awful, tasteless, albeit freezing cold beer, then promptly choke on it and die.
Yours in Christ,

Now hear me citizens who don't believe we deserve to be pandered to by some shit-eating marketing reps who think we'll gulp down any worthless swill as long as it's nice and chilly, and join me in boycotting the most God forsaken adult beverage in all the land (and yes, that absolutely includes this). So pass this post along to anyone you know who loves drinking beer and hates drinking cold urine, and especially to the poor souls who have fallen victim to the vicious brainwashing of the Silver Bullet. Who knows, this may even make its way to a Coors Light rep and shine light upon the horrible error of his ways. 
Regardless, we must band together and bring an end to this evil regime, so stay strong, demand quality suds, and just say no to ice cold Coors Light.