Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

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

Friday’s Quizzlet: Blues Brotherly Love


in Monday's Quotelet

Appetizer: What do you think is the perfect age to get married? To have a child?

No one has any business getting married until they’re at least 27 or so. See the world, meet some people and as cliched as this sounds – ‘find yourself’. I’ve had a pretty wild life so far, and have been lucky in terms of travels, relationships, friends and adventure. I am faithful that the rest will fall into place by itself. When it does, I’ll be comfortable and ready – with no room for regrets in my head full of fevered, debaucherous memories. In reality, I’m probably going to die alone at age 52 beside a trunk full of pornography.

Soup: If you could change occupations, what would you want to do for a living?

I probably should have been a police detective. I have this ingrained sense of right and wrong and although it veers disturbingly in certain areas, it has served me well thus far. I don’t shirk when I see a dead body, I look good in bad suits, I already consume unhealthy amounts of coffee and donuts and can readily repeat the statistic “more (police) cars were destroyed in the making of the Blues Brothers than any film in history”. Wouldn’t you feel safer at night?

Salad: What does the color green make you think of?

Menthol. A couple of years ago I had a strange phase. I was given a can of menthol shaving cream and things just snowballed from there. I started buying skin lotion with menthol. Then I got some face cream with menthol. Then I bought a bottle of mentholated schnapps and woke up suddenly in an ATM vestibule. I knew it had gotten out of control when I bought a carton of Newports and then smoked the whole thing at the Dudley T stop in Roxbury.

Main Course: Has something happened over the last year that you didn’t expect?

My expectations have been exceedingly low in recent years, so this could be any number of things. Vanilla Coke was an emotional moment for me, for example. I’m certainly glad that the Eastern Seabord hasn’t been reduced to rubble by now as I’d predicted. I feel obliged to ask Mr. Al Zarqawi – ‘Can’t we all just just get along?’ Barring his answer being anything other than ‘Hammala! Hammala!Hammala!’ Or ‘Allah akbar’, I say we make Fallujah the new ‘Silicon Valley’ – or ‘smoking crater of hot sand’, to be more specific.

Dessert: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

Maybe I should switch to a quiz that isn’t written by a woman? Nah, I’ll be a good sport. Her name was Suzanne, and it was 1986 – so I would have been 13. This was my first real kiss. The earth moved. I’m talking boobie-grabbing, tongue and all while I had her propped up on a dryer in my friend Chris‘s basement during a birthday party. This girl moved fast – she was 15 and already in high school. I won’t go into any more detail because my mother reads this, but let’s just say it was a very interesting 3 months. God bless ya, ya feckin’ cradle-robber, ya – wherever you are.

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Moonbat? Thy Name Is Carolyn Parrish.


in

The Moonbat ain’t so virtual anymore. I wrote about this horrible and embarassing Canadian Liberal MP cunt’s antics back in August. Now Paul Martin has sacked Carolyn Parrish from the caucus for stomping on a George W. Bush action figure on national television. This got into the Drudge Report down here in the states, and has been an enormous ostrich egg in the face for the Prime Minister – and ME. Yet another nationally publicized anti-American instance I’ll have to begrudgingly explain to my Yankee friends.

What Matt Drudge won’t tell you is that the TV show in question, This Hour Has 22 Minutes, pre-dates the identical Daily Show and is actually really, really funny. It’s a timely satirical comedy show that’s been shown on CBC since 1990. Parrish overstepped her bounds as an elected official in doing what she did, but Drudge should have mentioned the context. It was a ‘bit’. A foolish and feciscious ‘bit’ which has had significant concequences – but a ‘bit’ none the less. One more time for the cheap seats: ‘bit’.

So, basically this is me demonstrating my oft-mentioned attempts at objectivity when taking in the news on a daily basis. But that handicapped-whore still needs a spork vivisection. Maybe she can get a job on Mike Moore’s next picture.

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Meet The Autorantic Virtual Moonbat.


in

I am posting this wonderful little piece of technology because it’s extremely well done and funny. It also reminds me of talking to some of my more ‘educated’ friends. Whenever I miss my frostback bretheren, or feel a need to have a conversation with an absent Monster, I can now turn to the Moonbat and it’s like they are right there in the room with me.

Here’s how he works. Pretend you’re having a conversation with your favorite Moore-educated, politically open-minded Kerry mourner, and ask him a question. Imagine that you’re in Starbucks chatting over a chai lattes about who you both voted for. Here’s an example you can use: You’re not going to like this, but I voted for Bush because I believe the security of our citizens comes first – regardless of popular international opinion. Feel free to copy and paste.

If you’re a hyper-sensitive intellectual who’s about to leave me a comment regarding how easy it would be to create a conservative/republican version of the Moonbat – or the ‘Virtual Voice Of Reason’ as I’d probably call it – save your breath. Because you’re correct. Now stop whining and design one of your own if you can stop watching The Daily Show long enough. Is anyone listening to me? Shit – what a waste of my time. They’ve all moved to Canada already.

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New Year’s Eve Nonsense – Who Wants Some?


in Heartwarming

Everybody’s good at something. I’ve always had a knack for throwing good parties. Whereas New Year’s Eve has always excelled at sucking. I’m tired of stuffy black-tie events that usually involve more effort than a wedding and are always a lot less fun. I’m tired of slapdash, mediocre house-parties that are thrown together at the last minute because nobody has anything remotely better to do. I’m tired of never having anything good to look forward to when the ball drops – save for yet another ferocious and expensive hangover. So I’m about ready to throw my hat into the ring and organize an NYE party at The SideBar. I also just used the word ‘slapdash’.

But I’m not going to stick my neck out if nobody cares. I want to get a feel for public opinion on this proposed bender before I spend a month and a half working on it. So here’s the deal – I promise it will be fun, and I promise the price will be right. There will be a DJ, food, champagne and I’ll do my damndest to fill the place with lots of people you know. You’ll be able to invite your friends, and we’ll keep the party going until 2 a.m. It’s a convenient downtown location, and it’s right near the ‘T’. And no, I’m not making any money off of this. Chime in below.

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