Definately not a happy song, it captures the gritty back-alley ambiance that could only come from five punks with nothin to lose livin in a one room dive with too many 8-balls.
Parties? What're those? (May 5, fool) 2007|
I haven't been well lately. This is the best I can do with the topic at the moment.
I'm sick of songs where the verses don't matter. That are just some gazpachopes tunelessly mumbling to fill time. And then the non-verse part, what we've been building up to is also unremarkable, or not remarkable enough to justify the boring part. It's only there so I know which of the rutted artists' songs it is. Often those are the only words which approach being intelligible. These people are so obsessed with formulas and fitting in and imitating what came before them that they just think all songs have to be that way. Yes, well, I'm sick of those songs. There's some radio station called "The River" which only plays "classic rock" songs -apparently, there are about 30 of them throughout all time- and it's full of this sort of thing. Not that other radio stations aren't, but that's the only one I've been in a car with recently.
What am I hearing? Is this New Sensation New Sensation or What You Need (mumble) What You Need? Is this the guy who's coming around the bend or the one who wants to know if I've ever seen the rain? I guess I'll find out in about thirty seconds! And then once more in another 40 seconds.
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes! I'd never heard it before, and I never want to hear it again. Its only reason for having been made is that "latitudes" rhymes with "attitudes." Even the part where they come together and rhyme is nothing. Yet somehow by the end an unknowable period of time has passed and I feel weak. Listening to that song is like consuming a big boiling bowl of water soup. Supposedly someone called the station requesting that song. And yet my request for a helicopter goes unaddressed. My request doesn't hurt anybody.
It's not good when Oreo Speedwagon's Heard it From a Frennnnnd Who-ooohhh song seems brilliant and epic by comparison. At least, I don't think it is. I'd never heard that one prior to the occasion either, quite honestly, but that's one of those songs that people make fun of, much the same as Mr. Roboto, We Built This City, U Can't Touch This and surely plenty more things I'd rather be hearing, if I absolutely must be hearing music with words in it. On the whole I prefer Hall and Oates to Simon and Garfunkle.
I want you-oohoo.... show me the way. Every day!
Well that's just pathetic. draw yourself a map if it's so hard to remember. I have better things to do than lead you around. Or at least if one comes up I'd like to be free to do it.
You know what song is garbage but allegedly respectable? Sweet Home Alabama, that's some prime trash right there. Its title is the whole song. Just that same series of notes over and over again for about four minutes. And after that I still don't know what's so sweet about Leonard's home there. Does he live in a gingerbread house? The sole attribute he cites is the color of the sky. The sky's blue here, and you can actually drink the tap water (get used to it if you're planning on changing your latitude or attitude). In fact, I have observed in my travels that the sky is blue all over the place. And Mr. Skynyrd certainly doesn't live in the sky. He's like the program coordinator at my Alma Moron, Foundation School, making announcements on an award day. And the winner for bluest sky is... Alabama!" It's just a bad bad song. It only exists to be in bad ads and bad movies and possibly have bad movies that are romantic comedies named after it. Also: We Are Family, a song which has not made a single positive contribution toward humanity.*
Well, how about that.
*the alleged existence of a September 11™ "benefit" version hasn't convinced me there was no better way to make people give up their money, nor have I seen proof that any was given up as a result.
Guess what I think of this!
I'm sure there are plenty of twits on the internet whining about it, since supposedly a video preview of this has been around for some time, and I should just link to one of those and put it out of my mind, but what have they done for me lately or ever? I wouldn't even give them my green beans, and I have no use for my green beans.
The punny catchphrase is definitely stupid. It's no Raise the Woof or DogGone Family Film, but being less bad is still less than good. The title font, besides setting forth that this movie has no intention of keeping up whatever the spirit of the cartoon was, also makes me want to watch TBS for some reason, where the cartoons are a lot worse than Underdog ever was. Crispix, why (other than that it's a horrible idea) don't they make a live action Animaniacs movie? Use properties that were revoltingly self-satisfied already.
Who, that's old enough to know what Underdog is, would have wanted this sort of adaptation? I realize Disney has a talking dog movie quota to fill, but sometimes you need to confront your compulsions and just say NO. Merely the fact that the official movie website is the first google result for the letter combination "underdog," effortlessly bypassing any existing websites in honor/trashy smug parody of it shows that it's not on the conscumption radar. Even if this was done well there wouldn't be justification for such namerobbing. There was no need to plunder the license... in the event it's even still copyrighted. Why do it? To annoy me, obviously. They aren't even trying to make it not obvious anymore! I am running out of evens!
Aside from an awful, awful credit card ad from a few years ago, I doubt the Disney people would even know about it. It made me so mad at the time, I wasn't able to make something useful of my rage and just dropped a worthless live-journal post about it. These days, however, it's as good as anything I'd put here, so
What are those "what's in your wallet?" advertisements selling? I cannot figure it out from mere recollection. I know it is not actually selling the contents of my wallet because a) I do not possess a wallet and b) in one of the advertisements a man looks into his wallet after hearing the question and is informed that he has misunderstood. All I know is something about vikings, David Spade, Thor and an appearance by Underdog that gets exponentially unfunnier everytime I see it. Congratulations, corporation. You referenced an obscure subject in such a non-subtle, "look at how clever we are" manner in a rapidly repeating medium as to instantly sap it of all humor value. That might even be for a different product or service I cannot now specifically identify.
It's hard enough for me when these flash in the pan punch in the brain garbage can meant-to-be-forgotten remakes eh excuse me, re-imaginations are happening to stuff that had no significance to me, like Starsky and Hooch and the Honeymoonerses, but I used to watch and enjoy Underdog, and quite honestly don't see where it fits into this gross scheme (nor Inspector Gadget, but at least that was from the 1980s). I remember when some polician guy maybe fifteen years ago made an advertisement where he said he was the underdog and how confused I got. The cartoon may not even have been any good, but that's not the point. So what's the point? I think there are a few rogue gangs of billionaires who should have to answer that question before I do. I suppose I should be glad Art Clokey not only didn't die yet but held on to enough of his Gumby money to whore it up on his own terms and in a recognizable form.
Who is the voice of Underdog? It turns out, that job goes to none beside Jason "My name is Ew" Lee, who I never thought was disgusting before he grew a mustache. I don't know if he does a good job. I doubt it, but I don't know. It turns out sometimes my assumptions are wrong. It turns out they usually aren't, but it turns out I'm more likely to act on the wrong ones. That's karma for ya!
I will cut off my scalp and mail it along with a letter of submission to Michael Eisner or Hooch or whoever it is now if I see this movie and it ends without a single piss joke. The preceding sentence was brought to you by Underdog's PG rating, "for rude humor, mild language, and action." Although the Underdog trailer was not accounted for, I correctly anticipated the imminence of the Shwreck 3 preview in a theater earlier today entirely by its PG justification, "crude humor and swashbuckling action" and was able to escape before any cringes had set in. I heard a single HEY NOW! right before I got through the door, almost as if it saw me leaving, knew it had failed and decided to protest my tactics.
|Addendum to the whine-box above this one:|
I bet Disney people saw the credit card ad and thought "wow! Look at how horrible that short little ad is! Imagine if we made a whole 2 hour movie which was that horrible! And it had that character in it!" In the movie, rather than being free, Underdog is the legal property of some dopey kid, who of course can't tell anyone, because it wouldn't be an "original" Disney plot line if there wasn't some kid who had to lie to his parents about something. I bet he tells his all his hoodlum friends, though.
They followed up the movie about the kids who lie about the mummy that came to life with the movie about the kids who lied to get into the cheerdancing competition. I wish I didn't know that, but I do, so I might as well note my observation of the theme. There are also more than should be allowed movies/TV serieses about dopey kids who hide space aliens, but not every single one of those was a Disney project, so I won't mention them. At least with ALF the whole dopey family was in on it.
Sabrina the Teenage Witch, which aired under Disney occupation of the ABC channel, with rare exception featured weekly examples of Sabrini using magic powers (which she already had to pretend didn't exist) to solve a problem, lying about it and learning a lesson, which, ideally, she would have forgotten in time to lie in the next episode. The writers actually inserted a new character toward the end whose exclusive task it was to follow Sapristi around and make sure she learned lessons, because I guess the High Council was running out of
reefer magic points to cast the "everyone on earth goes back in time to right before Sabrindle used magic in public" spell. Also, I think the talking cat was the only black person on the show prior to that.
Evolution has failed you!
A warning to consumers:|
JOE BIDEN IS NOT COOL!
(and at sixty-four years of old he's hardly new, either)
If you want to know who is, though...
Tommy Thompson is where it's at! He's grody to the max! He's a marmoset ratzinger times nine on a cheese rickshaw! He hangs out with the black kids! They rule the school! Look, he's even giving thumbs up! You can't do that unless you're totally wizard!
It makes me wish this guy was running for president of America.
Or this guy. Tony in oh-eight! He's grrrrrrrrrassroots!
Cinder Ella's got my credit card!
Bimshwel: five years of ehhh.
There's no need to present a "best of" retrospective because just about everything is accessible from the side of the page, and surely plenty of it is not very good. Also, I regularly refer to old things regardless of their merit. So the anniversary celebration ends right here, I guess. The remainder of this text will be appropriately pouty and unprofound.
This site is officially old enough that if I weren't me and found an old page while searching for something, and then ended up at the front page and saw today's date ("today" being Friday, May 11, as I already told you), I'd be too afraid to even attempt reading the immense backlog of entries. DO NOT BE AFRAID! I WILL WAIT FOR YOU! THERE ARE SOME GOOD THINGS HERE!
Did it bother me when websites I know to have existed for less than a month regularly got more exposure than I did? Yes. Did I complain about it? Yes. Was that part of the problem? It had better not have been, since I certainly couldn't have been doing that before it happened. And whoever said "well, I was GOING to look at that site again, but then I saw that the writer gets upset when people don't come back, so I didn't" ...well that's just fickle. I'll definitely be telling that person off when it returns.
I doubt I have five other years of this left in me, that's a sure thing. Not at the current rate, anyway. There was a time when it was enough to type up what I thought was a good point, make it available and not worry how much time passed between each time I did that, nor who besides me saw it. I would like to try that again. Lately, aw ban, for the past two years, this whole business has bred a considerable amount of paranoia and something occasionally resembling jealousy. Those things are not good. I'd like to thank a few people, but I'd like to scream at more of them. I'd like not to like that.
I acknowledge that the website just hasn't been as decent as ever since I've been devoting time to those stupid comics. And yet, before I was doing that, I couldn't stand that I wasn't. That will not stop soon.
Ah, hmmm, let's see, and all that sort of thing, what else is bad? Unrelated to the suffering of people besides myself, that is. Typhoons, earth quakes, what are those?
I think I've injured me from always having to sit sideways at this desk because there's no comfortable way to get both legs beneath its surface, and also not having any place to be other than at this desk. So that will be that for now. Good night and good noodles.
According to some arbitrary x hundred year old tradition which there is no logical reason to adhere to, this is the wood anniversary. In recognition of that,
I was going to say I contracted a sliver, but now I just feel miserable.
I'm sick of fancy overpriced cookies that have rhubarb and molasses and nut paste and beet butter and faberge eggs and macaroons in them and taste horrible. I feel like I should be wearing a hat shaped like a cushion with a massive plume extending from it whenever I eat one. Chocolate chip technology exists! I reserve my tolerance for this sort of inedibility for when I go to a restaraunt that my mom likes, and even then I rarely cooperate with it. I can't remember the last time I ate something I liked off of a doily.
In fact, doilies have been partner to alarmingly few non-heinous deeds throughout history.
1919: The Treaty of Versailles was rumored to have been drafted on a doily.
1997: Noted serial killer Alberto Falcone left doilies at the scenes of his crimes.
2004: Heralded stage actor Ian "Mad Dome" Cunningsalami was reportedly so ashamed of appearing in Jope and Some Dopes as to have been driven to doily addiction.
1963: Disputes over a fourth gun shot fired at U.S. president John Kennedy arose due to the gun's sound being muffled by a doily.
1996: Following the arrest of alleged unibomber Theodore Kaczynski, a doily was found among his possessions.
It's almost like they're mocking me. The American Broadcasting Company knows how stupid bingo is and flaunts the ease through which it can hold the attention of large groups of people primarily but not exclusively comprised of morons. I added the complicating bit of language because I know someone I don't hate who watches "Deal, or No Deal" and a bunch who give three beans about the American Idols, and it's easier for me to lengthen the sentence than to fret with any more guilt and doubts regarding unkind remarks I make about these poor humble TV shows which pull in fortunes of advertising/merchandising revenue and becoming inescapable defining aspects of the "culture" which surrounds me. So I just need to do that 27 more times to cancel out this disclaimer, in the event I don't feel compelled to add one always.
And how about that audience? They look like something out of a Grant Wood painting, if we disregard the unusually high concentration of people wearing ties, though we shouldn't, as I'm certain that's indicative of something sinister, I'm just sure exactly what at this point. But if these people can't even force excitement when somebody's won (assuming the forefigure is a contestant; even Kirk Fogg never got that excited), how must they be during the needlessly lengthy rule explanations?
They must have just heard the NO PURCHASE NECESSARY section. "What? You mean we didn't to need to wait outside in the southern California sun wearing business attire for three hours, be strip-searched, watch this posturing jackass with his back to us and then the lamo game show itself before it's been edited to appear fast paced to get our unlikely opportunities at winning a lot less money than the chumps who are no better than us down there on Oversized Elliptical Epilepsy Stage #000367-b? Oh, yay."
Supposedly from a press release: "National Bingo Night" is a high-energy, truly interactive game of luck based on the popular American pastime.
If I know bingo, you get a card and wait for the numbers printed on it to be called out. That is all. The only thing "interactive" is you hearing the number and marking it. By that reasoning Boy Meets World was interactive because I could turn it off. And if bingo is a popular American pastime, then so are tiddlywinks, that game where you control a hoop with a stick, black lung disease, lynching, weeping and whatever else was popular in American past times like the 1930s. Will those also get TV programs? Will Jim Belushi beat out Carlos Mencia and Alf to host Losing Your Money in the Stock Market Crash? Will that also need to resort to misery morning radio style promises of "one lucky viewer" to get people to watch in the absense of legitimate entertaining content?
Sure, I always liked multi-colored spherical objects. For a while there was a pool table setup in my house and I found proper execution of the game itself terribly dull in comparison to just the balls being strewn about on the table. If it was up to me, it would just be the break over again a few times and then I'd go do something else I liked better such as falling down the stairs (make a game show out of that). I watched Voltron prior to my memory's full development and all I later recalled was the colorful robot limb-pieces and liking the green one best. Years later the Cartoon Network began re-airing Voltron and I had no idea who all the dorky anime people were and I didn't bother to watch it, as I had not yet emerged from my "cartoons are the enemy" phase at that time. If I had thought my inaction would lead to either perpetual Smurf/Snork reruns or shows which fill their graphics departments by talent-raiding municipal traffic safety calendar art contests, of course I would have stuck around. However, I fail to see how the extremely popular cartoons I don't watch relate to the inexplicably lucrative game shows I don't watch in all manner beside them being massively successful in spite of my not watching them, and I so I would appreciate for you to drop the subject for now.
During the 15th century there lived a man named Count Dracula. He practiced sorcery in order to create a world filled with evil. He began taking over the continent of Europe, changing countries from good to bad.|
Sometimes birds do good deeds. But I think that dumpster may be a bit too fancy.
More people voted Direct TV's picture quality superior to cable! (noise)
That's just a bad sentence. I wish I had not heard it. Because now I have to do this.
You might say that more people rated Direct TV's picture quality well than people who rated cable's picture quality well, but I doubt that's even the case. I have a satellite dish based system... I thought when you had those you could get any channel in the world as long as you could find the signal, but apparently there are different brands which allow you to have different pre-chosen assortments of largely domestic and superfluous channels through decisions based on business politics, blind dart throws or old fashioned scumminess. Home Box Office and its cronies still get to charge extra money for themselves. Some premium channels cannot even be ordered if you want them, and as for why I refer you to the reasons already cited. But more on that later, if I remember. Oh my mop, could we have one day or preferably many days this week where there's not some jet-engined garden tool, saw mill machinery, industrial strength construction vehicle or dork with a whistle right outside my house?! Could this noise please stop? You people live in this town for less than a third of the year! Quiet up!
Ehhh, aside from the occasional annoying mpeg-like artifact on the screen, I can't visually tell the difference between dishwork and the confederation of doohickeys commonly collectively referred to as "cable." Beside that this requires more cables. Strictly picturewise, yea, the slight degradement is nothing to fuss about. If Direct V doesn't have that, and I'm sure it does, but if it doesn't, that's still no reason to change from what I currently have. It's not that important. But then, up until a year ago I had to fix an antennus in just the right position through my window to even get most local channels. Also, I'm apparently still bitter about that.
Did more people vote Direct EV's picture quality superior to cable THAN people who voted Dish Network's picture quality superior to cable? When was this election held? Why did I not hear about it? And could a viewer really have an objective opinion without owning both at the same time? You're here to tell that some affluent aristocratic nutkin who pays monthly fees for multiple, already grossly overpriced, underfunctional-by-design television systems, and presumably owns high-definition sets for each, on which there is a discernable difference, prefers one's clarity to the other, and also that this is a big enough difference to make a difference? And I'm supposed to trust the opinion of someone that far removed from rational existence? Well I don't! Even less so considering the messenger:
Go now! Get Direc TV. Then I take clothes off.
Get goin', man, go! Get_out_of_here!
Next the scene shifts to these fine gentleman, who understandably are quite shook up over the whole thing. Not because the stripper could see them watching through the computer or that she had access to their credit card statements to know who subsrcibes to what, or even because I took this picture during a shot transition and one of the kids now appears to have an off-angle udder growing from his back, but just because the lady isn't getting naked until someone calls up
her pimp DirecT V and commits some dollars to the cause. I must presume, however, that unless she's some sort of electronic Teeny Little Super Guy poltergeist that can possess any two-dimensional digital surface, if she resumes disrobing it will be on the same computer screen she started at.
If we even consider for a second that some dopey kid might buy a whole new television service provider just because a pre-recorded professional nudist who can't speak proper English, probably working out of Thailand against her own will anyway said to, then I imagine the next step of the process would go something like this:
Hey mom? Skip and Buddy and me were watching porn together and
Oh God no! My son is gay!
No! It was straight porn and we were fully clothed and unaroused!
So... you're trying to tell me you're gay?
The lady hadn't stripped yet! She says we have to get direct tv first!
Okay, you're watching dirty movies, getting high, AND gaying it up with your no good loser friends in my house?
MA! Can we just get Dirrec TV?
But it's poooooorrrrrrrn!
and on and on. Who comes up with these things? I'm ashamed just from coming up with the epilogue, and I didn't film it or pay anyone.
You know what I learned at pre-school? Kids are dumb, music can be horrible, and adults who aren't my parents buy really lousy snacks and like weird rules. Oh, here's a mysteriously assigned two minutes to lie down on the floor for no reason! Now let's stand in a closer circle than usual and play an embarrassing "game" with no goal! Oh Splifbimp, you hate everything! No I don't, you just fail to like anything good! The only important knowledge I picked up in a pre-school was that a triangle is a versatile percussion instrument, and my mother could have told me that. I think most home-schoolers are complete kooks, but pre-school isn't school. It is before school. That's what "pre" means. I heard that these days people pay lots of dollars to reserve space at the "best" pre-schools. Every one of those people should have to take twenty or so minutes out of each day to cut around various shapes with little green-handled scissors, and then ask themselves if it really matters which sedate sudokist gives the command to do that. I'm just glad I got through all that sort of thing before computers and CD-based media were common. I don't need a cartoon lion in my life who's more into green and 4 than I am.
Kids learn more watching septic shasta like Code Ryoko or The Proud Family or A Pup Named Scooby Doo just because there's always the slight chance someone will accidentally hit the wrong button, turn on the Discovery Channel and see Africa or C-Span 2 and hear a word with 4 syllables.
Even a lot of post-preschool education is garbage. I remember, in my fourth grade, all students were required to use a learn to type program, Type to Learn. I ignored the finger placement and pressed the buttons however I felt like it. After a few "lessons" of that I got seriously annoyed at not being allowed to play Kid Pix and Super Munchers anymore, so I just selected the last "lesson," did that, told the teacher I finished the last lesson, and surprisingly that worked and I got to do whatever I wanted, which wasn't even all that much unless I was able to claim the computer with Sim City on it. And yet today I am typing in English and they ("they" in general) are typing "lolz brb gtg wft kthxbye." How many words-per-the-minutes do I type? Who the fardle gives a clamp? That topic hasn't come up one time for me in 13 years. I doubt it's lower than normal, but if it is, I'm not a secretary so it doesn't matter.
Most people arrive at such preventive measures without the advice of doctors. Ice cream abstinence is not indicated.
I remember, when the internet was first widely available, I wanted internet. When all those big multiplayer games started appearing, I wanted to be a part of that. I never did, but it seemed potentially amusing. High definition television, I won't buy one, but they're nice, I'm sure. However, text messaging, and more importantly ringtones, those are totally lost on me. I don't get the glamour of them at all. What happened to technology?
I've heard, more than once, the phrase "billion dollar industry" used in reference to the marketing of these. Legally, that's all I need, though I question the use of "industry" in relation to a thing which does not physically exist and requires zero effort to clone trillions of. Sure, a lot of that money comes from selling people "subscriptions" to absurd noises and not telling them their imaginary credit card money is being syphoned out at regular intervals, but what huge business to appear in the last few years, if ever, is not at core a scam or in the very least bad for us? And, and, to even want the noise, let alone to be willing to force all non-deafs in the vicinity to hear it is hardly excusable. The only difference here is that it's all in your mind. And all these grubbies and grebuses with their ear-orbs in all day, why can't they get their telephone noise to go through those, too? I don't want to hear it, even less than I want to hear you talking, pho. That's what you are. You're a ho with a phone. Four days since I updated this page and that's the best I can come up with.
Guess wha: no one but Nintendo can legally charge you money for Super Mario Brothers music, and Nintendo wouldn't because it's too busy designing, constructing and selling actual merchandise. If Nintendo wanted to get in the music reselling business, it would have long ago shut down vgmusic.com, the free website companies like this one steal mario music from. Does no one else see the irony of mentioning perhaps the most recognizable video game francais of all the times and then offering crackhouse developed trademarked wendelheim instead? Wow, this was approved by the real Jack of Spades! Gosh, it features all four suits! How'd they even have the memory to cram those in there, let alone the copy-rights?! Reeky deeky doo, those are actual Dollar Signs next to money figures! As seen on Dollar Bills! Is that... is that a green backdrop?! THE green?!?!
If you can play any game you want on your telephone and you choose the one that's a facsimile of a card game, an officially licensed facsimile of a card game, and you need this so badly that can't even wait to get back to your computer to play lousy facsimiles full screen, then you may as well find yourself boiled in beet brine, because your life has no meaning.
I'm so mad, I'm going to pass up an opportunity to reiterate how deeply I despise "Sweet Home Alabama." And I suppose it's possible Fast And Furious TD Waterhouse is a good game. I doubt it, but my supposition is that such a thing is possible. Surely there's some reason it hasn't been replaced with a joyless, possibly bootlegged interpretation of a more a recent movie which only exists to be recent. Not the cost of producing a new ad, I presume. I've seen flash based kick-the-celebrity-who's-stopped-making-us-money-while-it's-down "games" with more effort in them.
This picture's from a while ago, before I had good television, obviously, but it got away with this for too long. I can't think of anything to make Texas Hold Em appeal to me less than when I saw it on TV and learned it was just another stupid swapping and sorting game. This meth-addict's creepy smiling head isn't changing my mind.
I'm not saying I want flying cars like so many others have; I don't want flying cars. It would be terribly dangerous. I just want people to stop treating garbage like it's really neat. An IpOD costs 400 dollars? Seriously? That's too much money to pay for a thing that breaks randomly and that you can't look at pictures of beans* with. The fact that anyone buys ringtones, let alone by the billions, is the perfect example of how people, in general, are self centered, impulsive, obnoxious creeps. It's a noise you hear when? When your telephone is contacted by another telephone. It makes a noise that everyone else hates that ideally you should hear for as briefly as possible. I don't understand at all. I wish I had money, just so I could not spend it on these things. I also wouldn't buy mustard, gold chains and enourmous crates of American beer.
You might think I'm a little late complaining about ringtones, but I'm sure I did in the past, and I just called them "ring-tones" or "portable telephone beep noises" or "the first parts of bad songs over and over again with lousy audio compression" or some other specific sequence of words which eludes my memory and thus my ability to type into my search machine at this time. But yes, they're bad, and they always have been. They won't get better, either, like those Popeye cartoons where the laws of physics are obeyed and Jack Mercer stays on script, no matter how many misleading dollar dvds you try to trick me into seeing them on.
I am not drinking that Natty-fuckin-Ice.
* our hack writer consultant has suggested that "look at porn" was actually the funniest possible response. We are currently discussing the matter.
Let us not dawdle over the correct spelling of li'l, as forced informality should be discouraged.
Ehhh but what possible cavity of satire and mockery of president Geroge Wabbush has not yet been explored, plundered, and razed to ashes by now? I like to think all the core facets of this had been covered in the other TV series about George Bush on this channel six years ago, "That's my Bush." I like to think that because I hate this so much.
Even George Bush as a fat-headed child with allegorical tendencies has been done before, in MAD magazine, of all places, also six years ago, and who knows where else on how many other occasions. With most other subjects, this angle being taken would have been unlikely outside Japan.
I know I'd be just as likely to complain about a new similarly styled cartoon featuring Grover Cleveland, but I would, at the li'lest, have to acknowledge the existence of some relatively fresh comedic territory there.
Could we please stop trying to make this Bush man into a lovable scamp? He lets some nasty stuff happen. And no, I don't mean implying that Queen Elizabeth II is 281 years old. Which he didn't even really do. When referencing the year of the United States' bicentennial point during the previous century, he said "seventeen" but quickly corrected himself.
If anything, the president implied that our glorious union is 400 years old. And then he acknowledged his mistake, and had a chuckle about it. So you prove nothing by making a big fussabix of this!
And you've missed my point entirely. But I suspect you make a habit of missing points.
There are things not acknowledged of much greater importance. They're so unacknowledged, I can't even specifically recall what they are at the moment. And that's the way he likes it. No one died, was allowed to die or was reduced to a state to which death is preferable because of this misunderestimated numeral, that is of importance. Excessive garbage media coverage to distract from government scumminess is not the sole domain of pointless celebrities. I submit that focusing on the wackiness of this government's figures is more effective in that regard than ignoring them entirely. I know it's hard to believe, but Karl Rove has done worse things than dance.
Also coming into... someone's home, I'm sure, this June:
The Norbit divvid has HYSTERICALLY FUNNY printed on the box in letters almost as big as the title. It seems as if the more a movie is decried as unfunny, the larger the letters protesting this will be in the event any can be found. The Establishment Yes, I'm that paranoid now doesn't trust me to find the wacky cover image funny. It has to say Hey! Ya see that?! That's funny, that! The woman is fat and the man is scared of the fat woman! But she so fat she don't even know! You're so sure it's funny, I don't even have to. I just have to buy it. And bless your argyle socks, you'd be perfectly fine with that.
I wish my food did that. I wish I could eat a bad green bean and then see TASTES GREAT! That'd set me straight in a hurry. Or anytime I mute a block of advertisements due to trashy edited background music and no end of voices, instead of the pink VOLUME |||||||||||||||| I currently see, it would say SOUNDS ALRIGHT TO ME! The local lawnmower gang would be accompanied by "WORTH IT EVERY TIME. NOMINATED FOR 18 LAWNMOWY AWARDS." I wish I'd just stop having opinions altogether. I can't handle the stress.
By the roy, is the clothed seggual congress of PG-13 movies really all that more absurd than the separate beds of the 1950s? Is that another thing I'm supposed to laugh at?
HYSTERICALLY FUNNY is the perfect caption. That should be underneath every Baby Blues comic strip. Laughtracks, those are old hats. They're yesterday's tobaggan. No one likes those. All I need are huge out of context sentence shards. Clickable keywords, even. I should be able to type "funny videos free screensavers" and see what comes up. I can't wait until the whole of television and films have given in to emulating yoo-toob and start printing an enormous LOL on the screen after something which ought to have brought forth an analogous reaction from me happens. Hey! Go back! That was funny right there! (The song is Teh Ultimate Meatballs of Doom Die George Bush Kay by Fall Out Boy feat. Inuyasha and Zwinky) It's just like watching a movie with my friends, except I want to punch my friends but I'm alone and can't.
Also, anytime the person in an argument I'm intended to agree with says something, my view should momentarily be obscured by PWNED*. (with a period) and then I should see blankness with "YOU BE THE JUDGE" written on it.
*Could someone tell me how to pronounce that?