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possibly a link to the main page, but maybe not
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Friday, December 30, 2005 |
Jerry Maguire is a very very handsome, popular motion picture of all.
Ehhh, I address it now.
(The poster itself, not the horrible job I did making the too-bright portion readable.)
For a time, I had even forgotten about this entirely because... there's really no bad reason to want to forget it. However, every time I saw something seriously ill-advised and inane all I could think was "show me the monkey." Yes, so, now I am showing you, so that will teach you to send alien mind-waves after me. I hope someone can teach me how to build a tin-foil helmet.
There is a movie being made about a book series, but whose tagline is a reference to another movie, one which is entirely unrelated to the book series, but that is not recent or clever to refer to either. Even when Jerry McGuire —remember? that's the movie that wretched sentence is almost from— was new 9 years ago I wanted to throw frozen cans of Diet Dr. Pepper at folks who acknowledged it in a non-scornful manner. Why is that here, now? Because anyone who would want to see a two hour long trying-to-be-funny-in-seriously-lame-ways movie ("lamedy") version of a brief and non-cynical lamedy Curious George book likes stupid things, and so could logically be presumed to like other stupid things.
I accept that. However, this slogan is fundamentally flawed (I gave them two months to think of a new one, and the only modification to the poster was the addition of "Will Ferrell" and "Drew Barrymore," the names of two people who shall remain nameless). Flawed. For one thing, while alluding to something from many years ago, it is not from nearly as many as the Curious George book is. It is confusing and may corrupt viewers' kitschch perception drives. Imagine if you made a movie about Randy Newman (don't) and all he performed were LaToya Jackson songs. If you want to corrupt your kitsch perception drive.
But the slogan, it says to show me the monkey, and yet I have already been shown the monkey, and beside that I am not saying this thing. Who is "me," then? I see that post-Tintin bande dessinée era George has binoculars, as if looking for something, as if ehhh waiting to be shown something. Is George saying the line? Is George implying that I am the monkey? How dare you! He! Who! Who's the one who got captured while trying on a hat just lying around the jungle? Who's the one who got arrested for calling the fire department without the express permission of a fire? It certainly was not me. It might not have been George either, since I haven't seen a copy of the book in twelve years.
Oh, too late now.
If they're not trying to make the production seem like it thinks it is HIP N SNAZZY, then why the showing of the me the monkey? Why celebrity voiceovers? Why cast Will Ferell, a registered goofball, as a man so boring his parents named him after the dull yet comparatively exciting hat he would one day wear? What? Because you have no soul? Oh, alright then.
While it thankfully is not being computer animated, it is being "cel shaded" instead, and probably computer manipulated after that, like all the General Mills cereal mascots circa 1999, which looks just as creepy in operation.
Information provided by the guy on every imdb.com message board whose cousin worked on the movie.
Also coming in February of 2006, Over the eHdge, an adaption of a comic strip I know from a brief period in 1999 when, because I had serious problems (possibly caused by exposure to General Mills cereal mascots), I read every comic available at the United Features Syndicate website. Back then there were only 2,784, so it was still feasible. From that I came to like one, be indifferent toward a few, and outright despise the rest of the ones I did not despise in advance. Drabble, Eek 'n Meek, Frank and Earnest, Peas and Mashed Potatoes, I wanted to die. Or stop reading them (Guess which I did). Hedgel here bungee jumps into the third category without getting tied to the bridge. Fittingly, the entire vocal cast are celebrital, and I don't give a pringle which ones they art, probably talking in their regular unlovable voices. They get paid not for their speechious abilities, just to be filmed saying their lines so they can be shown beside the relevant shiny blob dilating and undilating its mouth-space in unison during commercial spots. If that even matters at all, why make a movie? Why not just show famous people reading topical and topically retro references into microphones for two hours? Will this one please explain why? Nierk, grulk. I've said this before. What went wrong?
Eugene Levy (or Leavy, as he is known chiefly among stupid people trying to sound smart) is involved with both of these. He has that strange John Cleese ish power of amusing me when I see him in things done 20 years ago but making me want to throw rubber eggplants at him more recently. I seem to have exhausted my supply, however, so these products I will have to avoid.
Another thing I found at that website was The Dilbert List, in which every day there would be a vaguely Dilbert-themed question or topic, and readers would submit their joke answers and rank other people's joke answers from the previous day. Sometimes I would spend a good ten minutes contemplating the issues and then typing, submitting my own. I gave up on that when I realized the top 8 responses always, without exception, ended up being "Y2K."
How will Microsoft respond to the weakening internet advertising business? Y2k.
What is the most important skill to get one's self promoted to a management position? Y2k.
Why do high school marching band members have such fresh breath?* Y2k.
Just those two letters and one number. I know it definitely was never anything about the year ad2000, because at the time I had no idea what "y2k" meant. The instant I learned I knew it was all lies. I even made sure to be online at the appointed time. Ha ha, I sure showed no one. Other Y2Ks were also scattered about the countdown based on how early in the day which humorless mutant submitted it. I have to wonder how it happened that they all got jobs making the same movies.
*The correct answer to the third question was, of course, the famous tuba toothpaste. Interesting to me is that when I sought out the joke setup which went with that, it was always "what do you use to clean a tuba?" Tubas don't have teeth, nor are they teeth! That still makes no sense! One of them was even "how do you clean a tuba?" That makes even less sense! You need something to rub in the paste with, and how do you expect to rinse if all you brought was paste? I don't even think there is a paste which cleans brass. It is my knowledge that you need to use lemon juice, vinegar, or another liquid which contains natural acid. You may apply it with a toothbrush to hard-to-reach-areas, but... no, see, you don't even have that.
Knock knock who's there tuba tuba who? That's not even trying. Lose.
On the subject, to all you fools buying "whitening strips" and such: Teeth aren't supposed to be white! Nothing in the world is! That is not a natural color, nor is it an attainable color! "Several shades whiter" is a myth! White has no shades! Something near white is good, but teeth should never appear pure grey under reduced lighting! You are not a cartoon character! Just as water isn't blue, spiders don't have just two eyes, Captain Kirk didn't say "beam me up, Scotty" and there is no heaven. Have a good year, Agatha.
I saw the Geisha Memory movie, and it was neither like the preview nor my distorted recollection of that. I would never have watched the full version based the seeings that I saw. That movie is terrible. However, a human other than me, who had read the source material, and who I can only surmise lacks friends, wished to see the actual thing and only had me, who I know to be a lacker, to do it with. And I dealt with that. Ey, why make advertising which causes the product to seem worse than it is? I would avoid the "coming attractions" portion altogether, but alas, a lot of the things previewed truly are terrible and I relish in hating them. Also, more importantly, if I arrived late, I would miss The Twenty!
Oh me oh my! For people like me who just can't handle the in depth intellectual focus of Access Hollywood or the late Celebrity Justice. The Two-wenty really brings yellow journalism down to our level: the basement. In this fast paced internet age, we can't be bothered to spell things logically, so why should the fiendish businessmen trying to pander to us?
In a related story,
I truly object to the "beverages provided by Coca Cola" message. It is a true message, but the beverages are only provided to the vendors, who insist on selling them to me.
How about those creepy computer M&Ms pictured on the medium bags of popcorn? That is a conflict of flavors, and I will not have it!
Some people even less than me. 'Ey, I meant "I will not have it" in a figurative sense; I will not condone the decision to decorate the container in such a way. I at least ate the popcorn. For six narfing dollars you can look at the screen instead of the bag.
Hey, why do people keep calling Breakback Mounting "the gay cowboy movie?" Name me a straight cowboy movie.
 Also, I hope to address this soon. I first saw it (this display) in October and was so dumbfounded that I'm only just now coming up with an explanation. Not a good explanation, but as of now the only explanation for this movie in existence.
Buying a new video game system is not like responding to a new hurricane. The only urgency is imagined by consumers. I do not sincerely believe you, waiting outside the store, had done everything that could be done prior to the new x-pensive-box's (a'doiy!) release. Camping in that queue was not the only thing left. Unless you're a legitimate camping enthusiast who's been to all the national parks and wants a change, but why do it in late Autumn? In that case, maybe it is about time you played some video games. But why start with these?
It's not like when I was a small creature... at all, since most of the devoted are just as old as me is. But years ago, I only had access to what the store was selling and that I did not feel stupid for wanting, and that was when there were a lot less people making the things, so the options were not so great.
Now, though, ho', there are thousands of digital doohickeys available for free on the internet, some of them legally, and some of the legal ones are even good, and for the most part no one will know if you download Twinbee Rainbow Bell Adventure or Alfred Chicken (warning: Do not download Alfred Chicken).
Even if you find this sort technologically or identical army guys re-doing world war II-ily lacking, there's still plenty of peeyesstu and gamecubery. If you've really sufficiently played through every good video game ever made up to this point, I'll wager you missed a lot of good television shows. If you've somehow seen all of them, well then I just hate you. Not for seeing through my plan, but because you're surely the most annoying, least talented person alive, and were just getting ready to tell me about how fantastic your t-voh is. Anyone less than you never figured out how to breathe or eat, or did but forgot while watching a Jake and the Fatman marathon. Read a book or fly a kite or steal a bag of skittles or something. I have noticed a direct correlation between someone's knowledge of and contentment with rectangle-picture-box related media of the most recent any year and how much that person deserves to be submerged in spoiled pudding.
I lose jokes all the time because I take too long in wrapping them into a semi-coherent package. Their relevance dissipates, or someone more visible who I've admitted knowledge of does something similar, and I worry about appearing derivative in delivery or at the very least unoriginal in subject matter. I'm simply not a good enough writer to address topics for which I have any content competition. This is not a factor when perusing pixel-based playthings, because the only end product is imagined within my mind. There's no triforce market that I missed the bubble on or whatnotever because 8 million more punctual game-players already sold their stock. I'm not going to find an empty treasure chest because a television nankingrankjob with a financial motivator and writing staff came and snatched Der Langrisser two weeks ago. And neither is anyone else. That is my point, I think. What is theirs?
I'd better upload this now while there's still time to promise to write better things next year.
Ha ha ha, wow. My computational thing recently developed a new trick, in which I will drag all the recently modified files onto the "removable disk" drive d icon and be totally ignored by the system and not told, so when I turn that off and come over here, not only do I have old documents, but I have to make sure if I modify them here with internet information which I cannot get at the other machine, I save them with different names so as not to overwrite the other modifications. Later I get to do line-by line comparisons. The best part, though, are these awkward excuses. Niergik ark ulk mip mulp. This has been happening for a while, I guess, but I just thought I was an absentminded idiot before. It's nice to know the only problem are machines gaining sentience and plotting against their human [former] masters. What with all the malware and general bad workmanship long having since rendered this one nigh-unusable, it gives me hope, and a bit of perhaps undeserved pride to know there are still isolated, non-infected central processing units out there unwilling to be used, and that I live with one.
Saturday: Gaw gee, that Kohl's After Christmas Sale looks so swell, I wish it was Monday now!
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Friday, December 23, 2005 |
Hang yourself! I don't know you!!
If I don't see you again before then, and I won't, Happy Gilmore or whatever to you, I suppose.
Is that purple Iraq election ink sanitary? Something wet that everyone in the country is encouraged to dip their most active fingers into? It seems like a bad idea. Eh, I suppose I would have heard if half of them suddenly had typhoid fever now, since it happened over a week ago. Unless it killed them, preventing them from telling anyone.
Without Ted Koppel, Nightline has changed quite drastically. First of all, there is Martin Bashir, who is hilarious, whether he realizes it or does not. Especially if he does not. Also, the 'Line now features a regular segment called Sign of the Times, which tries to seem meaningful, but isn't, because it's not really indicative of anything. The most recent one I remember was something about a chief executive of some business who demanded that his own near-year end money bonus be distributed among his least popular employees instead. However, that is not a sign of the times at all, and is actually quite atypical. The report acknowledges that, but makes it seem like the guy pretending to be rewarding subordinates is the sign, rather than his getting special recognition for it due to such rewards being less common than ever. On that occasion my problem was the phrasing. Yes.
On another the subject was an angry government man who wears an Incredible Hulk tie when he gets really angry. Once again, not a sign at all, since no one else does that, and no connections are drawn from the tie to another societal factor beyond the existence of Incredible Hulk ties.
Martin Bashir, perhaps aware of this, declared it a "sign of the... ties" instead. I decided that was too stupid to save a copy of. If those people want a real sign of the times, I suggest they buy a clock. That should have all of them. Yes, I typed this all for that stupid line. Now that I think of it, the New York studio all the Bashir segments are filmed at is in Times Square, and that place has lots of signs. This website is terrible.
And then it was back to the go carts. And that makes no sense out of context.
I heard that Monday, November 28 was the biggest internet shopping day of a year, from television people, but I do not understand why there would be one. I know lots of real stores suddenly introduce special deals on items intentionally limited in supply to maximize consumer maiming on the day following the Ank-Giving, and maybe internet shoppers are also store shoppers, but who, on the Saturday before the Monday, thinks "there are things I would like to buy from websites, but someone I've never met told me that Monday will be the biggest CYBER... MUST SAY CYBER shopping day of the year, so I will wait until then"? Are there really that many of those people? True, imaginary online stores have similar tactics for special deals, but they don't have regional stocks to run out of like the real stores, so there's really nothing to stop people from actually buying everything they want on the same day under the special rates. But then, that is too convenient to be true. There must be some obnoxious unjustifiable obstacle in place. All I can think of are selectively inactive servers, but legally you're only allowed to use those if you run a free service or are America OnLine.
The legendary trinket, as we've been told for months so that once it is available we make this true, is the Ecchs-Bocks Three-Hundred Sixty ("we" being people who aren't me but like to say "we" and include me without asking). Forget that new video game systems traditionally have pathetic launch titles due to programmers' inexperience with the new hardware and also their knowledge that someone will have to buy the games just because they're the only things available. Forget that you'll be able to pick one of the boxes up for just about $3.60 on December 25 (maybe). Forget that, because I neglected to come up with a proper ending for this paragraph.
Xbox 360: Why? There was a time when a new device could show up, and you'd see scenes of games, not the machine running them at all, on television,and instantly know it was something new which was not around before. Recently, they have to show you the system, and spin it around and zoom in and out in its vicinities because the physical unit is the only distinctive aspect. It seems to me that with every new video game runner it gets harder to see how ones are different than the ones before them. Yes, there was a noticable frame-per-second rate difference when Playstation the second became known, but I cannot see the improvements after that. I can look at a screen capture and tell you with 100% certainty whether it came from a Sega Genesis or a Sega Master System (actual game shots, don't try to trick me with an option screen, Wendel), but these ex-boxes baffle me completely. I did not grow out of videogames; they grew out of me. Is that what I am to you? Soil?
It lets you see Shaquille O'Neil Sweat. That is the only new feature I've heard about. But isn't that really enough? Don't you just love watching fluids oozing from orifices?
"Automatic drip. That's money." What the furby? I realize black people on television can say whatever they want and claim it means whatever they want, but the ones talking on this occasion are never shown, so I have no proof that they are real black people. Maybe "that's money" refers to the five hundred dollars you paid to see this monumental event take place. Does this video game actually have real competitions taking place, and if it does, is this improved from before in any way other than to see drops of stuff falling off The Mighty Che-ting Man?
Ey, back when NBA was still on NBC (I think it is on NBE by now), I saw the end of a basketball game with that guy in it, as this had delayed what I had intended to watch, and this was before I realized that the local news bits are also delayed, and would be following. Anyway, all the tiny little six-foot tall men kept running into Mr. O'Neil and falling down. Then everyone would stop and arrange into a certain formation. Not to administer medical treatment to the fallen, but to let Kazzam throw the ball at the goal ring unopposed. If he missed the first time, and actually even if he didn't, he got to throw the ball again! He cheats!
Back to the X to the box, another game I heard about is Dead or Alive 4 (which isn't even available yet). I ask: When are we going to get to the bottom of this mystery? I wouldn't have thought it possible to fail this more than once. If you're wrong one way, you'll be right the other, unless the thing is changing, in which case it is probably alive, to be taking any action at all.
So: If you lack pulse-detection skills and also want to see Shakeel Ohneal sweat, this is the system for you.
If I did buy gifts, which I do not, which probably bothers people who give things to me, I would prefer the real stores. Not so much for the having to drive a car, walk around in 32 degree (fahrenheit, what do you think) weather and talk to people I've never met aspect, but just to prevent any purchases from being stuffed into a box with those dreadful styrophome things. Some people call them "peanuts," which bothers me, and I don't even like real nuts, but that implies they are edible, and these would surely poison you, allergy or none. I do not like the "8"s or the Frito scoop-shapes, either, but those at least I can look at. The other kind, though, are horiffic to all five senses. There are not a lot of things like that in the world. They have been doing their foul business for a long time, but the internet mail order system has greatly assisted their cause.
If you are afraid of spiders or snakes, oh, that's fine and perfectly reasonable. However, if you're terrified of a fixed-shape chemical abomination that will never decompose, probably kill you if you eat it, that is not on this earth by nature, can jump 80 feet at the slightest displacement of air and can be sent into your home in groups of 1000 by anyone who wants to, well then, we're just going to have to torture you with these things until you get over it or murder someone.
Actually, no one needs to send them to you at all. They will get you themselves. According to legend, in a time preceding my conscious memory, one of them, I think I can guess which shape, came straight at me through a car window and I shrieked so loudly that my mother almost drove off the high-way. The highway! They travel over the sea! They can get you anywhere! You will never be safe!
I can remember, years later, boxes of the things waiting unattended in my own home for months at a time. The fumes alone probably made me half demented. They would secretly gather in our basement and behind our furniture, plotting the ultimate takeover. I didn't tell my mother to get rid of them because I knew she, still bitter from The Incident, would pick the boxes up and dump the contents on me so I would "snap out of it." The revolution never came, and in time the boxes left, but I know quite factually that until the day I left that house they had only moved so far as my parents' bedroom, just waiting for me to get a bad report card or steal a banana. And I don't even like bananas! Even less than nuts! They'd frame me, they would! An entire lifetime ruined, and for what? So amazon.corn can save fifty cents a month on bubble-wrap. It is not right.
"Yesterday," I copied this page to the other machine when I was done with it, and then later I edited it there. Since I did not feel like dealing with every individual file I was copying at that time, I just dumped all items on "desktop." However, I forgot to copy it from desktop to c:\mittens, so then when I went to bring it back here, I took yesterday's from c:\mittens instead of today's, which was still at c:\windows\desktop. Does that make sense to you? It should not. In a working environment that is not utterly wrong, it is not feasible for this to occur. I am not an underachiever, I just have a lot of incredibly stupid things happen to me.
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Sunday, D. Cember 18, 2005 |
A laundry epic covering basic laundry concepts. Presented in the manner of "Sherlock Holmes".
This is only based on the preview, and not the fact that it has Sarah Jessica Parker in it (because I do not recognize her if I can help it, and so did not then), but I would rather pass an actual kidney stone than watch The Family Stone. Ooh, dis. I found out later that the whole thing is about a family depicted named "Stone," and not some fancy communal rock that they worship, but if I was supposed to know that on my own, they ought to have been called "the Stone family," which does not sound pretensious enough to be a title for a movie that's supposed to have a message in it.
What I saw tells me that this is about some governess looking woman who all the stones hate, but they let her live with them anyway, because they are idiots. And they continue hating their guest for most of the movie, because she's always making spinach casserole. Then, suddenly, whatshername drops spinach casserole on the floor and then starts yelling at people and they're all friends after that. The end.
Memoirs of a Geisha: Some Japanese woman becomes geishoriffic in a brutal, torturous, thirty second montage. She is not a good geisha, but then she becomes a good geisha. Then she meets a man from someplace or whereabouts. Then she doesn't want to be geisha anymore, still resenting the montage. The end.
I think this next one actually came out months ago. However, it was so astounding that the part of my brain which remembers it went into post-trairural shock afterwards.
First of all, it's about a bunch of short-haired men who wear business suits and like sports. Try to imagine it, if you can. They also like wagering money on the outcomes of the sports games, which we don't actually see. So it's exciting, too. You might think that as long as we're seeing nothing, they might as well be betting on toucan glass eating contests, but that would be boring. In the preview, the main character is poor, meets a rich guy, also gets rich, loses his money and his confidence, discovers the rich guy is his nemesis who actually orchestrated the whole thing, and gets rich again. Wow! Oh, and he falls in love at some point and pretends to do sex, too. Astounding! It was called Two For the Money because there is a song totally unrelated other than for my also hating it which has those words in it.
On the same day as that I learned of Serenity, about a woman who kicks a lot while fighting. I was surprised, because I was really expecting her to punch people instead. However, we have discussed this topic before. What truly makes it a classic is dialogue like this:
You wanna run this ship?
Lyieth! (yes)
Well... ya can't.
(weird noise informing us that cyan-text guy just got seriously burned)
A similar exchange occurs on the recently released Fantastic Faw dvd:
"let's not fight."
"no, let's."
This is Hard-to-see Lady's brilliant comeback to a cowardly diplomatic representative from the Fantastic Four's eternal, less impressive nemeses, the Basic Four.
An urgent message to the people of Connecticut:
Connecticut is dangerously close to losing its position as the wealthiest state in the nation. Thankfully, Geico has introduced new lower rates on car insurance in Connecticut.
Geico, as you may be aware, is the automobile insurance company which was started by a lizard, which should not be confused with Guyco, the insurance company started by the orange suit person from Final Fight.
The first time I saw and heard this I thought it was a joke. What with the serious tone of voice and the camera shot of the boat shown the entire time. A typically long-running (four months now) and eventually quite annoying Geico joke. You know how Geico is with its riddles and yarns and such. Through the series' continuation I realized, no, I am not supposed to laugh at that boat, I am supposed to identify with it. This is a sincere plea for Connecticorns to stand up for their white suburban wine-tasting sweater-tying clam chowder-eating pride. What is the point of being undeservedly affluent if there is someone else less deserving and more affluent than you? You don't hoard money because you need it, you hoard money to hoard the most money; so that someone else cannot hoard it first. Geico really stirs up the [irresponsibly overpriced coffee] pot by naming New Jersey as the competitor, "dangerously close to overtaking 'us,'" "because of [my] inaction." But I say, so what (beside the use of dangersously indicating lives are threatened) if New Jersey is number 1? First: That's a dumb thing to get mad about anyway, but since it's due to New Jersey, even if I believed in this cause I would not worry, because New Jersey is junk. They show a yacht for Connecticut, but I'd show an old timey wooden Chinese boat for New Jersey, just to let people know I am not messing around. The mere mention of "Newark" I find funny. It's like a southeast Asian pirate bootleg version of New York running on the wrong hardware.
In New Jersey they have extra wide pipes and sink faucets so the plastic bags and smoked cigarettes in the water supply don't pile up and restrict the oddly-hued liquid flow. It's a good day in New Jersey if you get less than three syringes or diapers when washing your hands. It's an even better day if you do not wash your hands at all. New Jersey is only rich because that's where all the bottles end up. There's someone whose job it is to wait at the borders by the Hudson and Delaware rivers to pick up all the cans and such from out of state to deposit for the five cents. If you're ever driving a car through or just out of New Jersey, "roll" down your electric window and smell the money in the air.
New York, as you know, used to be first until the government told N'york that if it was going to count homeless towards the population they had to be included in the overall wealth total as well, thus bringing down the average statewide average. New York tried to argue that they calculate wealth on a per-residence basis, and as homeless people lack residences by definition, they should not count for any count which does not count them specifically. This is an ongoing debate, as you can imagine. In the meanwhile, police routinely urge the winos to drink from larger, unusually shaped containers that the New Jersey Big Ys and Stop & Shops don't accept, in hopes of improving their own state's ranking by bringing down another's. All the Big Apple Box Car Children, as they were once called, after their primary residence alternatives, used to drink soda. Not a lot of people know that.
one good thing I can say about New Jersey: It's a great place to buy Christmas gifts
I don't want a 728 pixel wide image right here.
Gosh, that was a long, hard three months. While some people were cowering on the roofs of their homes from harmless, life giving toxic water or getting swallowed up into massive benevolent fissures of the earth from which they have taken so much , I had to deal with the realization that I would have to wait 90 days, a long time, before I could see this movie, which was hard. I almost died. Laughing at the thought of many scenes of precoital hilarity, that is!
 And who knows what previously unerected exsperments will penetrate for the first time to our g-iggle spots in this special unrated ver-gin! The setups alone demonstrate what a master baiter Mr. Carell is! Pick up the DVD, but watch out for VD!
By the way, did you know Gene Shalit is 73 years old? I wonder if he dyes his hair, or just sucks the life out of other organisms.
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Monday, December 12, 2005 |
Wasps are just bees that are too lazy to make honey
If you have a television program, and you invited Britnay Spears as a saying-stuff guest at the summit of her fame and pretended to like her junk then, you are not entitled to make fun of her, her marriage, or her southern accent now. You will anyway, but in violation of federal law.
It seriously bothers me how the stuff-called-entertainment brigade will be all over how great and perfect a loser like this is, but the second (or week, at least) whoever that is exhibits in public one personality trait or crazy opinion that it's always had, suddenly that person is a national joke.
The same was true of MC Hammer. Legends loved him while he had money, but as soon as he lost it, the same people contributed
"ha ha, the fad following fools got sick of you, so now I can act like I hate you
because I don't need to worry about being shunned by the fad following fools
who once paid both our salaries but now just pay mine" except most of that was in parentheses. Essentially Hammer is being laughed at for no longer having loads of cash. "Ha ha, people who aren't rich like me should be subjects of ridicule!"
He's still disgustingly well off, but remember earlier this year when people who weren't me first realized Tom Crooz was an idiot? What's so newly kwazy about the guy who once costarred in the movie with the air-bite guy from Top Gun? He was always a few socks short of a bag of socks like that, you just weren't asking the right questions. He didn't get the Scientology application form from Oprah Winfrey's mystical talking gallimimus backstage. It ought to be noted that I did not watch any of the shows that Cruzo flupped over on, and I continued, continue to not. This hasn't made a difference. I'd still bite air at him myself if I had the chance. Now I hear "well, he hired his sister as his publicist, and she never went to publicist school, so that explains everything and we should hate her and like Tom again." No. Ehh ehh! If Sister had to say anything worse than "stop pretending you aren't a phony, self-destructive, enchanted mannequin," then Thomas was a maximumly mind-moldable moron, not really all so much worth liking, for changing so drastically over one person's advice.
This is the sort of thing that, had I a goat, would really get that goat.
A message from Connecticut Lottery
Ey. Not that I expect anything from you, ingrate, but if you give me scratch-off cards as Christmas gifts, and I win any money, your only cut of the winnings will be the raisins I buy to throw at you.
I recently discovered that all through Nuviembre the links to the twenty-seventh archival page were flawed. The page itself is flawed, but I expect the links to cooperate. Back at Fort Frimbip, all the pages are in the same directory tree and well behaved, but every time we go out to the internet they try to run away from me and they get into trouble. It would have just been one, but rather than retyping, I copied and pasted the first wrong link to all relevant places. Similarly, if the first corrected link was not correct enough, all the others will take after it, like the trendsluts they are. Oh, what am I saying? What am I doing? Am I... am I a bad parent?
There was some thing on EEEH! channel about the "101 Greatest Ess En El Moments," and I was just passing through, but alas could not avoid hearing a brief bit of it. Moment 39 was Chris Farley and Adam Sandler together, like, just in general, and 38 was Dan Aykybraykyroyd and Steven Martin as the Original Funny Talking Foreign Guys. Are those really "moments?" Those are more like concepts or people, of which there are probably maybe 89, total, good or not good. I'm not here to harass the current NBC show again (right now); the most recent edition including Dana Cookooforcocoapuffs or whoever was fairly decent, and good for him. Considering that I hated him in advance just for being famous and without my having heard of him, meaning he did his tricks exclusively on shows I surely had specific reasons for not watching, it was all in all in all in all a jollier outing than certain others I could mention but do not need to because I already did. It didn't even open with a shot of The Whitehouse or some cable news program logo I've never seen before.
An unusual aspect of this Dane man is that if he seems, to me, unique among most comedians, it is for the way he moves around while performing, which would not be evident in an audio recording. However, what he's suddenly famous for is a record-amount selling comedy album. Ah-whuh?
But what I was initially talking about: They might as well call it "The 101 Things to Ever Happen on SNL Great or Nottest That We Can Fill Exactly One Hour Minus Ads With and Also Avoid Showing Any Full Sketches." Yes, I'd much rather see Steve "I swear I'm not a coke-head" Buschemi talking about stuff than the actual stuff he's talking about. No, really. He looks like Cookie Monster. But that other guy wearing the red shirt, whoever he was, I can do without him. If I thought the gimmick was funny, I neither need nor desire for you to tell me why it was funny. If I did not think it was funny, the same still applies.
If the show showed sketches, naturally, 98% of potential viewers would hate 80% of the program. Oh, and then we couldn't include them as a "bonus" on the DVD, either. This whole setup is the exact same thing as Vh1's greatest musical video countdown, except on a different channel, which means I can complain about it as if it is something completely new, even though it's about as fresh as its own Mad Super Special (abridged, all table of contents edition) brand content.
If there is any north amelica live-inner who owns a television and has not seen these clips already, it could only have come about through much dedicated effort, so stop with the recompilations now.
A correction: The show was about "Most Unforgettable" sabado night live moments, and "great" is only said as a needless yet always included unofficial yet obviously official subtitle. In typical "every visual product produced in the past fifteen years" fashion, ubiquitous, unmissable previews abound. They frolic, even. Going into commercial breaks, shown are several brief clips of the slightly less brief clips which will be shown after the commercial breaks. "When we come back, Joe Piscopo does this. AGAIN!" I thought the purpose of a ranked countdown was to build suspense for what the next number was, but what do I know, ehhh? I'm the person who forgot the moments were unforgettable!
What says "educational but appealling to cynical teen-agers," or even either on their own, really, more than Casey Kasem as himself?
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