crunchy brain doodles

Does Snooki have a calzone in the oven?

2012-02-02T11:52:00.000-08:00

"I can totally store breast milk in here!"

Rumors are swirling that reality star, perfume spokesperson and all-around female role model Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi is pregnant with her first child... or at least the first one that was crafty enough to get past her daily banana and Plan B smoothie. So for a moment let's just ignore the implications of this somehow qualifying as national news (looking more and more like the Mayans were right), and just consider the possible repercussions of a Snooki pregnancy:

- The question of "Who is the fawtha?" makes for a ratings record-setting, 6-hour long, greatest fucking episode of "Maury" EVER.

- Next season, the gang bands together to convert the "Smush Room" into a nursery.

- When an ultrasound shows the baby is upside down in the womb, expert doctors use a baker's shovel to delicately reposition it.

- The baby makes a classic Jersey Shore entrance when it falls out on the dance floor after some guy punches Snooki in the head.

- Lil' Snooki becomes the face of a new line of Jersey Shore baby food, which includes flavors like Tequila Sunrise, Pureed Meatball, and Hangover Blocker.

Lord Jeter, I worship humbly at your feet

2011-12-14T15:06:00.000-08:00

Swooooon.

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)

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

2011-12-07T13:18:00.000-08:00

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...

The greatest work of art ever?

2011-11-14T16:25:00.000-08:00

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...

The United States of Egregious Lawsuits

2011-10-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

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.

Get Motivated (you worthless shit)!

2011-10-03T08:27:00.000-07:00

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.

10 Facts you know are true but won't admit

2011-09-22T13:32:00.000-07:00

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.

Everything I know I learned from movie shows: Part II

2011-09-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

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.

Everything I know I learned from movie shows: Part I

2011-08-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

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...

Man v. Food: A study in indirect homicide

2011-08-05T11:50:00.000-07:00

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 asking what it means for us as a people that it's so damn 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 is 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 problem is, I can't tell if my interest is piqued by how he will manage to finish that 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 doesn't look 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 trying to plow through "The Devil's Asshole" 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 is 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.

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

2011-07-27T13:00:00.000-07:00

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!"

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

2011-07-15T11:48:00.000-07:00

"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.

Caught a bad case of the Vegases

2011-07-06T18:11:00.000-07:00

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.

Coors Light: Official beer of the NFL, and Satan

2011-07-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

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,
TK

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.

What else are you gonna do... NOT riot??

2011-06-22T16:08:00.000-07:00

Since the city of Vancouver erupted following the game 7 loss by their Canucks last week, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I've seriously been missing out. There's just something so inherently intriguing and eerily beautiful about the beast that is the sports-induced riot... and I want in.

"And this is me in front of Vancouver's famous raging street fire."

I want so badly to know what it's like to be swept up in the whirlwind that is a mass group of people simultaneously flipping some primal switch in their brains that leads them all, you included, to the same undeniable conclusion; "Flipping cars and arson is definitely the logical way to go here." Then, as if controlled by the mob itself, you proceed ransacking and/or destroying everything within reach until you are ruthlessly beaten into submission with a billy club.
Now I know that may not sound like fun to some of you, but imagine the unbelievable rush it must be to want it so badly that you do it in spite of knowing how it will end. It's basically like having sex even though you know you might wind up with a baby. Speaking of which, these people found the best of both worlds in Vancouver (Side note: If you're reading this 9 months from now, you live in Vancouver, and your name is Stanley... these are your parents) (Side side note: If you're reading this at 9 months old you are some kind of record-setting baby genius who will inevitably rule the world with an iron fist and I'd like to preemptively pledge my loyalty and servitude to you, baby Stanley).
In the end, it's not a question of how logical or illogical rioting is. It's just a matter of me living my life never having been happy or angry enough about anything to turn over some helpless bastard's Camry, and that my friends, just isn't living at all.

The Truman Show: Rated X

2011-06-13T14:12:00.000-07:00

While flipping through the channels the other day I stumbled onto The Truman Show on TBS (I guess I caught the two hour block that day where they weren't peddling some unspeakable Tyler Perry abomination) and every time I watch it I am even more impressed by what a truly good film it is. But this time, something else, something very different, struck me about it.
I thought to myself, with the unbelievable amount of reality TV churned out and napalming our brains each year, how far off are we from a real-life Truman Show? Honestly, I'd give it maybe two, three more years before some psycho heads to the office of a development exec and pitches a show that secretly tapes a baby for the entirety of its life. And don't act like you wouldn't watch it. If you soak in six hours of Teen Mom every week, you'd watch this. But this notion struck me with another, much more troubling question; just how much gratuitous self pleasuring must there have been in the taping of The Truman Show?!

"I swear I can feel their eyes on me..."

Think about it, throughout the film, tons of loyal viewers are shown glued to their television sets, addicted to even the smallest minutia of Truman's life. Now think back to ten or so years earlier, when Truman was but a budding young man in the frenzy of pubescent transformation. Now, if Truman is anything like every other boy in the world, around age thirteen his most prominent pastime quickly shifted from after school cartoons to just completely annihilating himself, often several times a day. And if in fact this was the case, logic says that for a large chunk of years in the long-running 24/7 broadcast of his life, the viewers were watching young Truman come home from school, lock himself in his room, and work over his not-yet-fully-grown wang like he was pumping it for information (and what the ratings did in said years would really say a lot about who the show's core viewership really was).
For shame you fictional perverts, for shame.
Anyway, sorry for ruining The Truman Show for you, but if I have to deal with these questions, so should you.

The Texas Mind Police

2011-06-08T15:25:00.000-07:00

What do you get when the FBI and your state police force follow up on a tip about a serial killer's dumping ground that contains dozens of dismembered bodies? Confidence in your well being and the peace of mind of a citizen who knows their law enforcement is fully committed to keeping them safe, that's what. Wait... what now? They got the tip about this mass grave from a psychic? Oh. Well... shit.
Are state police and the FBI really spending thousands of tax paid man hours searching for a place that fucking Miss Cleo told them existed? Why not just spend a week or two scouring the wardrobe for Narnia while you're at it?


"Something terrible has happened... a massive waste of tax dollars."

This story seriously floored me when I saw it, and considering the amount of retardedness (yeah, it's a word) carried out by law enforcement officials that's saying a lot. This is literally the real life embodiment of an episode of South Park where Cartman serves as the psychic liaison to the local police (sidenote: watch this episode if you never have, it's friggin hilarious), only the South Park police aren't quite as stupid, because they're fucking fictional cartoon characters.
So what's the lesson here, you ask? If you live in Texas it's high time you move the hell out, because your cops are taking their investigative cues based on the hunches of this guy.

I guess Shaq was okay...

2011-06-02T11:54:00.000-07:00

After spending all morning in my car cursing the existence of LA Lakers fans, I had to get it out. And what better way to do so than on a seldom read blog (What should I confront someone for real? I don't think so, this face is my moneymaker)?
Anyway, since the news of Shaquille O'Neal's retirement (his new nickname: The Big Thing On The Couch) from the NBA after 19 years, Los Angeles radio has been abuzz with reactions. Except here's my problem, half the fans have made me want to drive the car up onto the sidewalk and start mowing down anyone wearing purple and gold.
Lakers fans are for the most part the most spoiled bunch I have ever encountered. And their reactions to the Big Diesel's retirement have proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt they are also the douchiest fans in the NBA (way to do the impossible and out-douche bandwagon Heat fans). Here are the main arguments (or heinous mouth-diarrhea storms) I've heard about Shaq's departure:

"The balls in my shorts dwarf this thing."

- He was great, but he wasn't what he could've been: Are you FUCKING kidding me??! The guy won you three straight championships, all three of which he was the MVP! And he probably would've won you more if your backdoor-sex happy shooting guard didn't drive him out of town. A three-peat. What more do you want? Kill yourselves.
- He never cared enough to learn how to shoot free throws: Why does everyone assume shooting free throws should automatically be simple just because you're in the NBA? The guy is 7'2", which loosely translates into hands the size of fucking frisbees. A basketball is like a softball to him. Try shooting a softball into coffee can ten feet high from fifteen feet away and see how many times you make it. The guy is an ogre. It's bad enough he can't pet a puppy without snapping it's neck, do we really have to crucify him for his lack of touch from the charity stripe too?
- He was lazy: Really? Was he lazy when he was averaging 30+ in the Finals and dominating the paint like he was playing pre-schoolers? Give me a friggin break. Lakers fans have just become so insanely infatuated with Kobe that they think anyone who doesn't make this face is a lazy player. Sorry, that's not intensity, that's intense assholery (and where was that face last year in game 7 when Ron "Dangerously Unstable" Artest had to carry your ass to a championship?) Shaq was a beast. Plain and Simple.

Shaquille O'Neal was one of the most dominant players ever to hit the hardwood and any Laker fan who doesn't revere him like black Jesus with a basketball is a fucking moron. And by the way, all of this is coming from a huge fan of the Orlando Magic, the teamed he spurned so he could make cinematic masterworks like Steel and Kazaam, so this isn't a bias issue either. Give credit where credit is due and stop acting like you weren't happy as a pig in shit that Shaq left Penny Hardaway to play with Nick VanExel you spoiled fucking jerks.

And the Oscar goes to... Sir Vincent of Diesel!

2011-05-31T11:52:00.000-07:00

Shiny trophy!!!

Apparently, while racing his '67 Charger, Vin Diesel lost his damn mind in a high stakes bet. Since the huge release of the titular five-quel (that's what they call them, right?) in The Fast and The Furious series,Fast Five, Vin has been bragging around town about the possibility of some serious award consideration, saying: "I wouldn't be surprised if there is some Oscar talk around this."
Really? You wouldn't be surprised? Because I feel like everyone else in the fucking world would be. The only way to legitimize that statement would be to follow it up with "I also wouldn't be surprised if OJ Simpson garnered some consideration for the Academy's lifetime achievement award," then laughing heartily and saying "Just fucking with you... obviously."
Listen, I like an ass-kicking action flick as much as the next guy, but if Vin Diesel really thinks there will be any Academy Awards for a film in which he and Paul Walker drive a convertible off a cliff and base jump out of it (or for any film that Paul Walker appears in, for that matter) then he has seriously lost his shit. He'll have a better chance of taking home the little golden man with the next Chronicles of Riddick installment than with anything that's fast and/or furious.
Come on now Vin, just be who you are. You don't remember hearing Schwarzenegger talk up the Oscar chances of Collateral Damage do you? Just make your action flicks, count your money, and possibly consider fathering a child with the household help.

I'm too sexy for my teething ring

2011-05-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

It's a pretty simple equation, if you have a super-hot baby and you want to make sure the world knows it, buy him this outfit...

I swear to God, if I see any kid in this inexcusable camo shorts/creepy shirt combo I will immediately report his parents to child services. I feel like this outfit alone could completely shatter a child's sexual psyche and result in years of expensive therapy over his deep-seeded mommy issues.

Mommy's Major Hunk? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I see this kid fifteen years in the future telling girls they should feel privileged he's even asking them to prom, since his mom has been telling him what a fine piece of ass he was since he was one and a half.

The fact that this outfit has even been manufactured begs the question: should any mother's be referring to their baby as a hunk? I feel like the answer there is a pretty strong "NO!" It seems unfair for a kid to have to tackle Oedipal issues before he can eat solid foods. And can a baby even be a hunk? And if they can, shouldn't you have the decency to take into account the millions of babies suffering from lack of confidence due to their rolly-polly shape (and pants shitting), and not rub it in their faces that you have a seriously chiseled infant?

This was so uncomfortable to even write that I don't know of a good way to wrap it up. World, you are weird and gross. Knock it off.

More than just Fancy Ketchup

2011-05-19T15:02:00.000-07:00

Don't get too comfortable in your bolted down plastic chair that's adjacent to the ball pit that smells like hot feet and tears, they won't be there for long.
McDonald's Corp. recently announced a plan to remodel its restaurants, both inside and out, into a cozier, more welcoming place for patrons. Hoping to follow the trend of coffee giant Starbucks, McDonald's is aiming to create a comfortable environment where their customers will be more likely to hang out and spend money.
I see just one problem here... it's fucking McDonald's. It seems to me that whoever is at the helm on this decision is severely underestimating just how ashamed people are to be seen at McDonald's. Fancy it up all you want, there's still no dignity in a thousand calorie meal that cost five bucks.

Is it weird that I think that sounds delicious?

Honestly, the next time you're at a McDonald's and aren't either hammered or dangerously hung over (though I don't know why you'd be there in that case), look around and take tally of who you see. Not a whole lot of self respect going around is there? The vast majority of McDonald's patrons are either broken parents who have completely given up on the notion of cooking their bastard children a meal, people so large they have that "I sweat when I breathe" glaze over their forehead, or old people on a fixed income whose financial straits have them choosing between eating there or eating cat food at home (have some pride Grandma, stick with the Friskies). Basically McDonald's is visited by those motivated only by addiction, necessity, or shame (or sometimes all of the above). Spend a day watching people exit McDonald's, whether they've been there for two minutes or two hours. Anyone look proud of what they've just done? Didn't think so.
And my favorite part of this plan? That it in no way involves making any changes to the actual food. Have you ever left a bag of McDonald's in your car, even for five minutes? And what does it smell like when you get back? FARTS. Every damn time. In my humble opinion, that says a lot about the food you're about to put in your face.
McDonald's needs to accept what they are and stick to it. Dress it up however you like, you'll still be McDonald's (you can hang a chandelier in a strip club, it's still a house of broken dreams and VD). If you want to make a place like Starbucks, one where people will enjoy being seen and comfortable hanging out, well... build a friggin' Starbucks.

Bathe those feet in sweet, sweet luxury

2011-05-17T12:13:00.000-07:00

Are you sick of letting your base extremities go unwashed because of that pesky bending over at the waist thing? Are you tired of the putrid fungus forming between your little piggies simply due to your unwillingness to literally clean head to toe? Do you find yourself wishing every day that you were born back in the good old days of the first century when Jesus was washing feet like there was no tomorrow?
Well my funky-footed friend, today is your lucky day...


From the makers of "Showering after a hefty dump in lieu of wiping your ass."

It's time to put an end to these garish pirate stereotypes

2011-05-13T12:23:00.000-07:00

I was on my way to do a show last night (blowin' up in the back room at the Westwood Brew Co., getting famous much?) when I spotted this giant building-side ad off Wilshire:

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a pirate's alternative lifestyle for me!

All I could think to myself was that actual pirates must be rolling over in their watery graves over how unbelievably gay they are being portrayed as in modern media. While I'm sure some of them liked to accessorize, it's hard to believe the pirate population as a whole enjoyed beaded hair wraps, streaks of highlights, beard-beads (what is with this dude and beads?) or generously applied eye-liner quite as much as Captain Jack Sparrow seems to.
Now let me be clear by pointing out that there is nothing wrong with being gay, but that it simply might not sit so well with some roughneck sea-dogs helplessly watching this franchise make multi-millions from their perch in the big crow's nest in the sky. Sure Johnny Depp might say Captain Jack is based on Kieth Richards, but from where I (and probably a bunch of emasculated dead pirates) sit, it seems a lot more like the weird mustachioed gentleman who offers to braid your hair for five bucks in the Bahamas.

John Cena: Ambassador to the world

2011-05-10T14:57:00.000-07:00

Imagine you are in the crowd at the WWE 2011 Extreme Rules event. You are having a grand old time, throwing back beers and watching grown men wrestle in unitards (they still wear these, right?). The guy next to you has three teeth and his wife is holding a sign that says "Triple H can give me the Pedigree any time!" Jerry Lawler's weird chest hair is within mere feet of you. THIS, is America.
But just when you thought things had gotten as red, white and blue as they could, WWE Champ John Cena stands on the announcers table and drops this bombshell:

John Cena Announces Osama Bin Laden's Death To Crowd - Watch more Sports

Are you friggin' kidding me? Did the guy from such cinematic masterpieces as 12 Rounds and The Marine just give us the breaking news we would have otherwise gotten from George Stephanopoulos? Did we just learn of a Navy SEAL incursion that brought to an end the reign of the most evil man of our time from this dude? Wait, did John Cena kill Osama Bin Laden?!

The best part of this video though is that the honorable Mr. Cena refers to Bin Laden's death as being "compromised to a permanent end." Then shortly after, if you listen closely, you can hear a confused audience member ask aloud "But is he dead?"

Now THAT's America.

Meet LA's finest billboard doctor

2011-05-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

While driving slowly up Olympic toward Santa Monica yesterday morning, I happened upon a billboard featuring this man:

Unable to snap a picture due to traffic, and the tears in my eyes from laughing so hard, I was luckily able to track Dr. Daniel down on the internet for your viewing pleasure.
There's just so very much to love about this man's ad campaign. First off, his name is fucking Dr. Daniel. And it is a well known fact that any doctor who goes by his first name is just displaying the fact that he's going to spend the majority of your appointment making inappropriate jokes. Second, his slogan is "Hola Dr. Daniel!" I LOVE IT. It's like he's hoping to cash in on the niche market of Hispanic's who are not only unhappy with how they look (of course he's a plastic surgeon, it's LA), but are also huge fans of The Simpsons (Is he also a proud alumnus of Hollywood Upstairs Medical College?). And lastly, this man has clearly spent a great deal of time crafting what would be his public image, and it has paid in dividends. I just picture him during the photo shoot explaining to the photographer: "I want people to look up and think to themselves, 'Well I can see that he's a doctor, but I find myself wondering if he may also be an Alliance approved magician available for private parties.'"

Stop praising your spectacularly mediocre children!

2011-05-03T09:31:00.000-07:00

While driving down the highway this weekend I spotted one of those bumper stickers dedicated to a child's accomplishments. But it wasn't the standard "My Kid is on the Honor Roll at whatever, I dunno like, Lawrence Taylor High." Which would've been bad enough. In fact I've actually come to realize in the years since, that I was a dick for thinking my parents should put that sticker on their car, because when they did, I now realize that everyone who pulled up behind them looked at it and said to themselves "No on cares douchebag!" But not this sticker, no this one was even more special. It read:

"My Child Received the Attendance Award at Palms Middle School."

Now THAT's worth bragging about!

You have got to be kidding me. We are setting the bar at an all time low if all it takes to pat ourselves on the back is that we made a kid who is able to show up to stuff. And it's not like it was next to an honor roll sticker. No, this was the only lonely sticker on that entire bumper. So it may as well have said "My kid went to school but don't get the wrong idea here, he in no way excelled academically." Congratulations, your kid was at a place. Is that really that praiseworthy? If so, I'd like my long overdue credit for the Yankees 2009 World Championship, because I was present at several games that year.

We need to put an end to this nonsense. Maybe stop shoving your kids faces full of hot pockets, pull them away from the TV for five minutes and make them go out into the real world and actually accomplish something. No more giving out trophies to the losing teams or telling your kids they're special for doing the most mundane shit. Why? Because it has been scientifically proven that this is the formula for creating assholes. So knock it off.

More Monsters Please!

2011-04-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

When did creatures of the night become so friggin' all encompassing? When I was a kid zombies and werewolves and vampires were around, sure, but they weren't dicks about it.


Frankly, it would've been a lot better had the whole series been like this.

It seems like recently they're on every TV network and in every other movie that comes out. How about leaving some for us normals ya jerks? Must you be in everything? This is one of those Hollywood trends where you can't help but wonder "when the hell is this shit going to end?" (kind of like that trend in the late 90's where we were somehow supposed to believe Renee Zellweger was hot). Now don't get me wrong, some of these films are amazing. Zombieland was hilarious and the Blade trilogy was pretty awesome (until I found out he wasn't paying his taxes, communist), but for the most part it just seems like someone has a shitty script and an exec is like "Fuck it, throw a vampire in there? Sold."
As a writer, it's really got me down on my prospects. I can't help but imagine my first pitch meeting will go something like this:

Agent: Well, they loved your script.
Me: Oh my God really? They said that?!
Agent: They sure did. They just had one request.
Me: Great! What is it?
Agent: They'd love for you to have more monsters in it.
Me: More what?
Agent: Monsters.
Me: But there aren't any monsters in it.
Agent: Exactly. So they think it could stand to have a few more.
Me: I don't understand.
Agent: This is an easy fix kid. They'd just like you to tweak the script slightly to make it less of a satirical comedy on the state of our nation and more of a romantic comedy where a vampire and a werewolf fall in love.
Me: WHAT?!
Agent: They said they'll pay 500k.
Me: Done. (Though I haven't encountered the situation yet, I'm fully prepared to accept the likelihood that I will be a total sellout)

5 Reasons to check out the Venice Freak Show

2011-04-27T17:24:00.000-07:00

Well, this looks inviting and not at all nightmarish...

I had the privilege recently of visiting the legendary Venice Beach Freak Show (for those of you who have been to Venice, no I am not simply referring to the boardwalk, although that super-buff black guy who walks around in a loin cloth with a fanny pack and a giant staff with a skull on top might indicate otherwise) and let me just say, it was as awesome as advertised.
So if you're ever in town, do yourself a favor and crack your piggy bank open and make your way to this $5 venue that will leave you seriously satisfied.

#5) The Dude Outside - The owner of the Freak Show also takes the role of promoter, as he stands outside for hours on end shouting into a microphone all the reasons you "have got to come inside and see this shit." Like an auctioneer of all things bizarre he rattles off all of the wacked out displays you'll see when you get inside. And if that's not enough to entice you, he offers a free preview with a live, two-headed turtle on the table next to him. Speaking of which...
#4) Two Headed Friggin Everything - Seriously, everything. Any animal that you were unsure if it has ever had two heads, rest assured, it has. Offering examples both alive and dead (in case you were wondering how hilarious a taxidermied two-headed goat is... VERY), the Freak Show is a veritable cornucopia of all things dual-craniumed.
#3) The Mexican Wolf Boy - Yup. A wolf boy. Sure he wasn't so much a wolf as he was a dude covered head to toe in hair who stood there with his hands in his pockets and conversed with the customers quite amicably, but still. And evidently his rare disorder has him treated like royalty in Mexico (seriously) and pays him substantially to travel the world. I blog for free... Wolf Boy: 1, me: 0.
#2) The Electric Lady - Born with a body that can serve as a conductor of electricity without having that whole death side affect, she is a sight to behold. Basically hooked up like a car battery, she shows off how she can be the connector between power source and light bulb, and even how she can light a torch with her electrified tongue. It's hard to say for sure if this was, but if it isn't this girl needs to be an actress because she does an amazing job of faking the uncomfortable "there's lightning coursing through my body right now" face.
#1) The Balloon Eater - It's hard to imagine the most impressive thing about someone who hammers a giant spike up his nose and swallows swords being his balloon work, but seriously, it was. No joke, this guy blows up one of those long, thin party balloons until it's about four feet long, and he swallows it. And no, I don't mean like a sword swallower puts a sword down his throat then pulls it out (it would be a lot more impressive if they just ate it), I mean he friggin' swallows it. He pushes four feet of balloon down his esophagus and yeah, he eats it. Doesn't even pop it. And why is this the most amazing thing I saw? Because all I could think about for the rest of the day was how the hell he could do that! This guy is putting on shows roughly every 20 minutes, meaning he swallows probably 24-30 balloons a day. And I gotta tell you, I couldn't figure out any way of faking this, so my best guess is that it translates into 2-5 super colorful, latex-filled power shits a day... Hats off to you sir.

Why would the Lakers do this?!

2011-04-25T12:30:00.000-07:00

While on the subway this weekend I overheard a conversation that sparked my imagination like few others have. It was an exchange between two middle-aged women regarding the current NBA playoffs. Weird, I know. I'll assume they had already covered what happened on Dancing with the Stars this week and how Glee just isn't as good as it used to be (Yay sexism!). But what caught me off guard was not the topic at hand, it was the serious conviction with which the one woman uttered this sentence:

"No, I don't want the Lakers to win because the last time they did they set my garbage can on fire!"

They hung this picture over her fireplace
mantel before they left too!

Now, I am fully aware that what this sounded like probably wasn't what she meant. In fact, I'd be willing to bet anything she meant some rowdy Lakers fans had gotten out of hand last year. But what I heard, was that after taking their second championship in as many years, the 2010 Lakers showed up at her house and proceeded to desecrate her property. And that made me smile.
My imagination reveled in the thoughts of Kobe gleefully egging her Saturn Vue, Pau Gasol draping toilet paper amongst her precious lemon trees, Lamar Odom lighting dog doo on her front porch, and Ron Artest (obviously) maniacally dousing her garbage can with gasoline and letting her rip. And of course, Phil Jackson sitting off to the side on a giant chair orchestrating the entire thing.
That's all. There's no great lesson here. Just that it would be HI-larious if you looked out your window after enjoying the game only to see your beloved team trashing your shit. That's funny and you know it.

Spider-Man: Turn On the Morphine Drip

2011-04-21T13:02:00.000-07:00

The actor who tumbled thirty-five feet into the orchestra pit during a preview show of the perpetual Broadway shitstorm that has been "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark" has vowed to return to the production when it resumes in June (no word yet as to the return of the bassoon player whose head he landed on).

Note to self: Webs not nearly as reliable as Bono said they'd be.

The brave thespian in question, Christopher Tierney, refuses to let a few broken ribs, a fractured shoulder blade, three broken vertebrae or a measly little fractured skull stop him from portraying the live-action web-slinger in the U2 helmed play. And I have to admit, that's pretty admirable. But you have to wonder what will happen when he returns to the perch from which he plummeted. Assuming that the actual safety issues have been resolved, I'd say there's still a 90% chance that the residual memory of faceplanting into the woodwinds section will at the very least cause the 31 year-old stuntman to wet himself whilst swinging wildly over the audience (bring your ponchos!).
In any case, here's to hoping Christopher's return to the show is a safe one, but that the show itself remains an unstoppable disaster. Why? Because fuck U2, that's why.

P.S. "Turn Off the Dark" doesn't make any god damn sense. Hey Bono, if you want to turn off the dark maybe try not wearing sunglasses 24 hours a day... Dick.