Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

Sing A Song Of Six Pints.


in Heartwarming

Two Mondays ago Tiernans had it’s annual staff appreciation party and Monster and myself were asked to join in on the festivities. That is to say, I was asked and Monster was allowed to come so long as I was with him to babysit. Any of you who were at my last Cinco De Mayo party know exactly from whence this probationary period stems. You guessed it – extreme violence.

Pistol Pete Massa was there playing the guitar and singing, and towards the end of the night encouraged some of us to get up and try our hands. That was all the motivating Monster needed, and he quickly ran up on stage to treat us all to an unprecedented 3-song-set!

With a tear in my eye, and just a bit of preliminary vomit in my throat, I watched transfixed as Monster gave us one for the ages. The breathtaking trainwreck included the Gambler, Southern Cross and quite possibly the most dreadful rendition of Country Roads in human history. Bravo, buddy. That was truly some funny shit.

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Show Me All Of The Blueprints!


in Monday's Quotelet

Appetizer: If you had a free password to an online service, which would it be?

One that combined stock-trading, music downloads, debt-consolidation and fantasy cartoon Star Wars porn. Leia wasn’t chained to Jabba to keep her from escaping. She was into that sort of shit.

Soup: Describe your bathroom (furnishings, colors, etc.).

Do smears count? It’s a tiny North End bathroom. Tub, sink, towel-rack. Purple crayon mark on one of the walls because Jim Fitzgerald thought that might be amusing one New Year’s Eve several years ago. And, get this, a toilet-brush! Feel free to come on by and check it out. Just follow your nose.

Salad: What does the shape of a triangle make you think of?

That other Mel Brooks Nazi pardody movie where all the gays had to wear pink triangles like the jews used to have to wear identifiers in WWII. Hitler: All I want is peace. Peace! Peace! [singing] A little piece of Poland, a little piece of France…

Main Course: Name 3 things or activities that you consider to be luxuries.

Being born North American. Being born rich. Being born without any sort of physical deformity. One out of three ain’t bad.

Dessert: What was the last really great movie you watched?

I’ve been on a tear lately. All great films. Hotel Rwanda made me realize that machetes are an excellent way to hack someone to death. The Aviator teaches us that in addition to being hilarious, obsessive compulsive disorders can help you amass huge financial fortunes. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou – Bill Murray in a Speedo. ‘Nuff said.

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I Spit On Your Guestbook.


in Pye in the Face

Guestbooks were one of the first interactive website features and date back to the very early nineties. Heck, I even have an old one myself. But who needs a guestbook when you can have a guestmap? That’s right, folks. I’ve added a guestmap link in the new list at the very top of each page. Please have a look and then join the global party yourself.

So plant your pin, write your silly little greeting and join the www.davepye.com international community. You can select your icon, flag and then leave a message that pops up on the map when someone moves their mouse over you. It’s so nutty, I’m nauseous.

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Now Go Home And Get Your Fucking Shinebox.


in Movies

I have officially attained bloggish success. I rank #6 in Google for the phrase “billy batts shinebox”. I know this because I can see where my visitors come from, what search engine they used and what keyword phrase brought them here. I also aspire to sleep with a woman again someday despite my abhorrent nerdery.

Where was I? Oh yeah. I can die now.

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Any Which Way But Moore.


in Movies

Eastwood’s best gunslinging days are far behind him. Responsible for more on-screen deaths than Charlie Bronson, nowadays he’s content to kick ass behind the camera. But Clint had that old glint this week at an awards dinner where he addressed Michael Moore during an acceptance speech.

“… Michael, if you ever show up at my front door with a camera – I’ll kill you. I mean it.”

I don’t think you want to mess with the dude who played both Dirty Harry and The Man With No Name. If Moore still really wants to work with Clint in some capacity, might I suggest a remake of Every Which Way But Loose? Not for the title role – that would obviously go to Johnny Knoxville. I’m thinking of Mike because they’ll need a replacement for Clyde the fat hairy orangutan. Alternately he should be talking to the Beethoven people.

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