Sunday, July 26, 2009
Note to self...
Stop offering unsolicited corrections of mispronounced words. People seem to hate that. Seriously, hate that shit to fuck.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Police Report On Death Of Billy Mays
Subject was found in bedroom of his Tampa, Florida home. The body was laying in bed, nude and arranged in a cross position. Subject's head was at the foot of the bed, possibly implying an "inverted cross". There were no signs of struggle and nothing in the room was disturbed or reported missing. Subject appeared to be in good health apart from an apparent swelling or goiter in his throat; however, the subject's medical records indicated no history of this.
The top half of the mattress was soaked in blood, later determined to be the subject's. Cursory examination of the body revealed that the subject's testicles had been removed. Lab analysis of the wound indicated they had been torn from the body, likely with bare hands--no knife marks were found.
Investigation was continued into the adjoining bathroom. Again, nothing was out of place or reported missing. However, a device--later identified as a Slap Chop brand food chopper--was found in the sink, covered in blood later determined to be the subject's. No fingerprints were found on the device. The device's blades were coated in a reddish-pink "slurry". Tests later revealed this to be the subject's missing organ. The phrase YOU'RE GONNA LOVE MY NUTS was found written on the bathroom wall in a mixture of blood (the subject's), semen (the subject's) and organ matter (again, the subject's).
Due to the lack of other apparent trauma, investigators on the scene initially believed the cause of death to be shock and loss of blood resulting from the pelvic trauma. However, the true cause of death--as well as the subject's throat swelling--was revealed during autopsy. The coroner found a foreign object in the subject's throat, lodged so deeply it was undetectable via external inspection, even if the subject's mouth were opened. The object--later identified as a Shamwow!(c) brand absorbent towel--was found to have brought about the subject's death through asphyxiation. The object had additionally caused significant trauma to the subject's trachea during insertion. Further tests revealed the object had absorbed ten(10) times its weight of the subject's blood, swelling to considerable size and becoming visible as a "goiter".
At the time of this report's writing, the investigation is ongoing.
The top half of the mattress was soaked in blood, later determined to be the subject's. Cursory examination of the body revealed that the subject's testicles had been removed. Lab analysis of the wound indicated they had been torn from the body, likely with bare hands--no knife marks were found.
Investigation was continued into the adjoining bathroom. Again, nothing was out of place or reported missing. However, a device--later identified as a Slap Chop brand food chopper--was found in the sink, covered in blood later determined to be the subject's. No fingerprints were found on the device. The device's blades were coated in a reddish-pink "slurry". Tests later revealed this to be the subject's missing organ. The phrase YOU'RE GONNA LOVE MY NUTS was found written on the bathroom wall in a mixture of blood (the subject's), semen (the subject's) and organ matter (again, the subject's).
Due to the lack of other apparent trauma, investigators on the scene initially believed the cause of death to be shock and loss of blood resulting from the pelvic trauma. However, the true cause of death--as well as the subject's throat swelling--was revealed during autopsy. The coroner found a foreign object in the subject's throat, lodged so deeply it was undetectable via external inspection, even if the subject's mouth were opened. The object--later identified as a Shamwow!(c) brand absorbent towel--was found to have brought about the subject's death through asphyxiation. The object had additionally caused significant trauma to the subject's trachea during insertion. Further tests revealed the object had absorbed ten(10) times its weight of the subject's blood, swelling to considerable size and becoming visible as a "goiter".
At the time of this report's writing, the investigation is ongoing.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Sorry, Janelle
So last Saturday was my buddy Chris Green's 30th birthday party. Much fun and enjoyment was had by all, especially me. Because I'm the king now. But I'll get to that later.
I wound up taking a pathetically tiny number of pictures--far fewer than I meant to. I post them here now, with all appropriate snark.
Now and forevermore, I am the king! Kneel before me and pay proper tribute! Fawningly point out how the crown is so tall I could also be pope! Fail to point out that it barely fits around my freakishly large head and falls off at the merest tilt of my neck! Your king commands it!
I wound up taking a pathetically tiny number of pictures--far fewer than I meant to. I post them here now, with all appropriate snark.
Here's the man of the hour himself. I thought the guy couldn't look any more like a leprechaun. Boy was I wrong. Bonus points for the glasses making him look like a late 80s-early 90s VR leprechaun.
This has nothing to do with anything. Just a d-bag on a recumbent bike. Please note I don't actually know for sure he's a d-bag, but usually if a guy's on a recumbent bike it's a pretty good indicator. Note also the entirely unrelated party behind him. There seemed to be a lot of them around that part of the Waterfront that day.
And here's Shaun--one of the party planners, theoretically the one who came up with the idea of the guests wearing green. And here's what he showed up wearing.
And now his shame is laid bare for all of this blog's millions and millions of readers.
Of course I wore green myself--a T-shirt, festooned with a design which looked, as I repeatedly put it, like somebody ran over NBC's "The More You Know" logo. That line killed for some reason.
Properly attired at last! His punishment is to look like a Hawaiian-Irish National Guardsman. Now and forever. Also in this picture is...I dunno, some chick whose name I can never remember. I think she's Chris' state-appointed caretaker or something.
I sure must have liked that turned-off fountain, because I took most of my pictures of that day there. This one, however, was taken in front of Ground Kontrol, Portland's premier bar/arcade--or barcade, as I'd call it were I a completely unfunny dipshit who's nowhere near as clever as he thinks. Wait a sec...
Anyway, that'd be Chris' freshly-tethered shoe there. And I do believe that's my shadow taking a picture.
There didn't seem much point going to Ground Kontrol when we did as they hadn't started serving alcohol yet. Not that Chris let that stop him! One can of 7-Up and one miniature bottle of Grey Goose kept him on an uninterrupted path to roaring drunkenness. And boy did he get there.
Here's the gay bar we stopped at. It's actually called Casey's but I can't shake the feeling its real name is "Blowpony" and the city just wouldn't let them put that on a street sign. Does that mean somebody blew a pony there once? If so they seem awfully proud of it.
They serve beer in mason jars there--is that gay? I have no idea. Still, best High Life I've ever had.
The place wasn't as, I dunno, gay as I thought it'd be. Not until the drag queen showed up at least.
We eventually ended the night in a karaoke bar. I didn't stay long because Chris was so roaring drunk by that point his caseworker dragged him home after just a few minutes, after which I sort of lost interest and left. And I was about ten seconds away from singing "Holy Diver", too. Oh well.
One last thing: that whole day we'd been having a contest of sorts. You'd get points for showing up at each bar, answering trivia questions, winning physical challenges and the like. Well, through no small amount of sheer dumb luck, I won.
What did I win, you ask?
EVERYTHING, that's what.
BEHOLD!
Now and forevermore, I am the king! Kneel before me and pay proper tribute! Fawningly point out how the crown is so tall I could also be pope! Fail to point out that it barely fits around my freakishly large head and falls off at the merest tilt of my neck! Your king commands it!
I am SO wearing this Sunday.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Your Shame Shall Be Legendary
To the person or persons who brought an approximately ten-year-old boy to the 5 p.m. showing of Bruno at the Pioneer Square Mall theater in Portland, OR today:
You are terrible, terrible parents.
You are terrible, terrible parents.
Friday, July 10, 2009
The things I put myself through
In keeping with my desire to become the latest person to torture himself on the Internet for the amusement of others, I've decided to spend my inaugural post covering an awful, awful song and its attendant (equally awful) music video.
Folks, I'm not going to say this is the worst song/video I've ever heard/seen. I'm not one of those goldfish-brained people who has a new "worst thing ever" every week. Suffice it to say it's the worst thing this week. And last week. Maybe even next week, too. It's bad, people.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Attack Attack's "Stick Stickly".
Tempting as it is to let this atrocity speak for itself, I think I prefer to give a full analysis of this three-and-a-half minute abortion, to further explore what it's like when a song fails on every conceivable level.
0:04--Fade in...YAAAAGH!!! *pant, pant* Sorry. Please, PLEASE tell me she's not in the rest of the video.
0:05--Lovely scene of desolation here. Put it in black-and-white, slap some Photoshop filters over it and it'd make a half-decent black metal album cover. But it's not to last...
0:07--Aaaaaand cue yowling idiot! Yes people, it's one of THOSE bands. At this point I'm convinced that Hot Topics spew these out in endless streams, like the monster generators in Gauntlet.
0:11--A word bubble just told me to "STOP HATIN ON ATTACK ATTACK!" No chance of that, I'm afraid. I love how this song STARTS with a mallcore breakdown so all the teenagers can get started on jumping up and down like twats nice and early.
0:16--I just noticed this band makes a very odd squatting motion as they play. They look like they're taking a shit. Perfect visual metaphor.
0:21--Hear that tremolo riff at the bottom of the mix? That's officially the coolest thing about this song. Don't get attached to it.
0:22--AAACK! There she is again! I like how he has a reassuring hand on her shoulder like, "there there--the natives of the Uncanny Valley have a rich cultural heritage!"
0:35--Tremolo riff's done. Replaced with singer's armband tattoo. Not a good tradeoff.
0:42--Clean vocals now. Just as whiny and unappealing as the screaming.
0:50--Nononodon'tzoominonherfaceYEEEAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!
0:53--You know, these guys all look the same. Pasty skin, dark hair--It's like The Boys From Brazil started a mallcore band. The only one I call tell apart is the doughy screamer. Because he's fat.
1:08--Yes, this house is far and away the best thing about this video. I just wish Pillsbury Screamboy would quit blocking the camera so I could see it.
1:18--And another breakdown! At least they know how to pander to their fanbase...their horrible, horrible fanbase who must be purified with fire so their foul taint doesn't spread any further.
1:20--"Hey! Poop outside like everyone else, mister!"
I looked up this song's lyrics, by the way. It turns out Attack Attack are a CHRISTIAN mallcore band. How many more coats of horrible are they gonna slap on this thing?
1:29--Seriously, don't bands death-growl anymore? Maybe when his balls drop. Assuming he can see them when they do. Because he's fat. Did I mention that?
Do you have any fucking idea how many songs like this I've heard? Back before I discovered Youtube and Headbanger's Ball was still on at a decent hour, I heard them ALL the goddamn time. For every video by someone good like, say, Celtic Frost (Satan rest them) you had to put up with five by skinny-jeans-wearing motherfuckers like these. There's a reason that show runs at 2 a.m. now.
1:35--And now creepy bitch is making it a singalong. Lady, you're haunting my nightmares as it is--can you at LEAST not encourage them?
1:37--Fatso, his shit taken, now kicks dirt over it like a cat.
1:42--SENSITIVE PIANO PART okay, it's done. What was the point of that again?
1:50--And whiny guitarist joins in again. Notice how the Lord has blessed him with TWO sets of vocal chords, allowing him to sing two parts simultaneously. Modern albums are overproduced, is what I'm saying.
2:13--Okay! We can all see your hair! We know you spent more time on it than you did on this song! You don't need to keep tossing it around!
2:25--Multiple rimshots! Maybe that means the song is a joke? Oh, sorry, I said "maybe" when I meant "definitely".
2:30--BIG scream! Let me check again...hmmmm...nope, sorry, you're STILL not a badass! You are, however, still fat.
2:31--Creepy bitch sez: "Dear god, make it stop!" I feel ya, lady.
2:33--Oh goody, ANOTHER breakdown! Okay, now I'm just bored.
Why is this song called "Stick Stickly", anyway? I think I'm not getting a key reference. Is that a nickname for Jesus? If it's not it should be. That's it--from now on I'm calling Jesus "Stick Stickly"! It'll be this blog's "thing"!
2:40--"BOOOWWWW YOUUUUR HEAAAAD!" Er, no, I don't think I shall. Because I'm pretty sure you're talking about Ol' Stickly and I listen to WAY too much black metal for that.
2:46--What?
2:50--WHAT?!
2:52--The FUCK?!
2:54--And now they're ALL doing the cat-litter dance? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!
2:55--And now T-Pain vocals?! Other people can see this, right? I haven't just been driven irretrievably mad by the horrible song, RIGHT?!
3:10--It's still going. Dear god, it's...still going.
3:21--Okay, back to plain ol' terrible now.
Seriously, what the HELL happened there? And why can't I shake the feeling that it was aimed at me personally? It's like Attack Attack somehow KNEW how trite and unappealing I would find this song and decided, for 30 glorious seconds, to turn it into the weirdest goddamned thing I've ever heard. And I say that as someone who owns Mr. Bungle's Disco Volante album.
3:27--At long last, the final note. Fade out on Creepy-adorned chair.
People, I...don't know what to say. My first entry and I'm ALREADY at a loss for words. I mean, I could have done a post like this on any bullshit screamo song, but how many bullshit screamo songs have what may be the single greatest Big Lipped Alligator Moment in musical history?! Had they not switched to an even CRAPPIER form of music it would've come close to redeeming the whole damn song! As it is it just makes a forgettable pile of crap an unforgettable pile of crap.
Folks, I'm not going to say this is the worst song/video I've ever heard/seen. I'm not one of those goldfish-brained people who has a new "worst thing ever" every week. Suffice it to say it's the worst thing this week. And last week. Maybe even next week, too. It's bad, people.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Attack Attack's "Stick Stickly".
Tempting as it is to let this atrocity speak for itself, I think I prefer to give a full analysis of this three-and-a-half minute abortion, to further explore what it's like when a song fails on every conceivable level.
0:04--Fade in...YAAAAGH!!! *pant, pant* Sorry. Please, PLEASE tell me she's not in the rest of the video.
0:05--Lovely scene of desolation here. Put it in black-and-white, slap some Photoshop filters over it and it'd make a half-decent black metal album cover. But it's not to last...
0:07--Aaaaaand cue yowling idiot! Yes people, it's one of THOSE bands. At this point I'm convinced that Hot Topics spew these out in endless streams, like the monster generators in Gauntlet.
0:11--A word bubble just told me to "STOP HATIN ON ATTACK ATTACK!" No chance of that, I'm afraid. I love how this song STARTS with a mallcore breakdown so all the teenagers can get started on jumping up and down like twats nice and early.
0:16--I just noticed this band makes a very odd squatting motion as they play. They look like they're taking a shit. Perfect visual metaphor.
0:21--Hear that tremolo riff at the bottom of the mix? That's officially the coolest thing about this song. Don't get attached to it.
0:22--AAACK! There she is again! I like how he has a reassuring hand on her shoulder like, "there there--the natives of the Uncanny Valley have a rich cultural heritage!"
0:35--Tremolo riff's done. Replaced with singer's armband tattoo. Not a good tradeoff.
0:42--Clean vocals now. Just as whiny and unappealing as the screaming.
0:50--Nononodon'tzoominonherfaceYEEEAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!
0:53--You know, these guys all look the same. Pasty skin, dark hair--It's like The Boys From Brazil started a mallcore band. The only one I call tell apart is the doughy screamer. Because he's fat.
1:08--Yes, this house is far and away the best thing about this video. I just wish Pillsbury Screamboy would quit blocking the camera so I could see it.
1:18--And another breakdown! At least they know how to pander to their fanbase...their horrible, horrible fanbase who must be purified with fire so their foul taint doesn't spread any further.
1:20--"Hey! Poop outside like everyone else, mister!"
I looked up this song's lyrics, by the way. It turns out Attack Attack are a CHRISTIAN mallcore band. How many more coats of horrible are they gonna slap on this thing?
1:29--Seriously, don't bands death-growl anymore? Maybe when his balls drop. Assuming he can see them when they do. Because he's fat. Did I mention that?
Do you have any fucking idea how many songs like this I've heard? Back before I discovered Youtube and Headbanger's Ball was still on at a decent hour, I heard them ALL the goddamn time. For every video by someone good like, say, Celtic Frost (Satan rest them) you had to put up with five by skinny-jeans-wearing motherfuckers like these. There's a reason that show runs at 2 a.m. now.
1:35--And now creepy bitch is making it a singalong. Lady, you're haunting my nightmares as it is--can you at LEAST not encourage them?
1:37--Fatso, his shit taken, now kicks dirt over it like a cat.
1:42--SENSITIVE PIANO PART okay, it's done. What was the point of that again?
1:50--And whiny guitarist joins in again. Notice how the Lord has blessed him with TWO sets of vocal chords, allowing him to sing two parts simultaneously. Modern albums are overproduced, is what I'm saying.
2:13--Okay! We can all see your hair! We know you spent more time on it than you did on this song! You don't need to keep tossing it around!
2:25--Multiple rimshots! Maybe that means the song is a joke? Oh, sorry, I said "maybe" when I meant "definitely".
2:30--BIG scream! Let me check again...hmmmm...nope, sorry, you're STILL not a badass! You are, however, still fat.
2:31--Creepy bitch sez: "Dear god, make it stop!" I feel ya, lady.
2:33--Oh goody, ANOTHER breakdown! Okay, now I'm just bored.
Why is this song called "Stick Stickly", anyway? I think I'm not getting a key reference. Is that a nickname for Jesus? If it's not it should be. That's it--from now on I'm calling Jesus "Stick Stickly"! It'll be this blog's "thing"!
2:40--"BOOOWWWW YOUUUUR HEAAAAD!" Er, no, I don't think I shall. Because I'm pretty sure you're talking about Ol' Stickly and I listen to WAY too much black metal for that.
2:46--What?
2:50--WHAT?!
2:52--The FUCK?!
2:54--And now they're ALL doing the cat-litter dance? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!
2:55--And now T-Pain vocals?! Other people can see this, right? I haven't just been driven irretrievably mad by the horrible song, RIGHT?!
3:10--It's still going. Dear god, it's...still going.
3:21--Okay, back to plain ol' terrible now.
Seriously, what the HELL happened there? And why can't I shake the feeling that it was aimed at me personally? It's like Attack Attack somehow KNEW how trite and unappealing I would find this song and decided, for 30 glorious seconds, to turn it into the weirdest goddamned thing I've ever heard. And I say that as someone who owns Mr. Bungle's Disco Volante album.
3:27--At long last, the final note. Fade out on Creepy-adorned chair.
People, I...don't know what to say. My first entry and I'm ALREADY at a loss for words. I mean, I could have done a post like this on any bullshit screamo song, but how many bullshit screamo songs have what may be the single greatest Big Lipped Alligator Moment in musical history?! Had they not switched to an even CRAPPIER form of music it would've come close to redeeming the whole damn song! As it is it just makes a forgettable pile of crap an unforgettable pile of crap.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
