5 Awesomely Bad Sega CD Commercials

I hap­pen to love the Sega CD dearly and hold a spe­cial place in my heart for it, but holy shit did it have some ter­ri­ble com­mer­cials.  It’s a tough job mar­ket­ing game con­soles that have a max­i­mum of 64 col­ors dis­playable simul­ta­ne­ously, but somebody’s gotta do it.

Today I’m wax­ing nos­tal­gic about my favorite full motion video periph­eral with this round-up of five awe­somely bad Sega CD commercials:

“WHOOOOOOOA…NOTHING ELSE MOVES LIKE IT!”

Appar­ently Sega CD’s most bad ass fea­ture is…that the disc spins.

This 5-minute long in-store commercial/demo reel for the Sega CD is a typ­i­cal exam­ple of early 90’s teen-centric mar­ket­ing: choppy “in your face” edit­ing, sub­lim­i­nal text mes­sages, kids express­ing them­selves in ironic sound bytes, and employs what I like to call the acid wash jeans fil­ter.  It could eas­ily be mis­taken for an episode of Nickelodeon’s Round­house.  I won’t blame you if you can’t sit through the whole thing.

Hey, was that Lucas at 1:28? (“Sega  CD? SO BAD!”)

“Still don’t have a Sega CD? What are you wait­ing for, Nin­tendo to make one?”

I hate it when angry black men break the fourth wall and fuck up my liv­ing room.

“There is no Nin­tendo CD.”

Jesus, didn’t Dwayne Wayne have any­thing bet­ter to do?

“Now that’s tight.”

Promo spot for Sega CD fea­tur­ing Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch: Make My Video. This is about as 1990s as it gets, kids.

“Just when you thought you’d seen everything…”

Explo­sions! Fire! Sharks! Can­nons! Cau­tion: may be too EXTREME for some view­ers. Only watch this if you can han­dle how EXTREMELY EXTREME it is!

I hope you’ve all learned some valu­able lessons today.

Doomsday Preppers vs. Hoarders: Who Will Survive the Apocalypse? [Poll]

Did you catch the series pre­miere of Dooms­day Prep­pers on National Geo­graphic chan­nel last night?  Talk about bat­shit.  Did the pro­duc­ers intend for the show to be this hilarious?

(skip ahead to the poll)

Watch­ing the show and see­ing how most of these peo­ple live, it’s hard not to draw com­par­isons to Hoard­ers.  You might even call the Prep­pers’ lifestyle “hoard­ing with a purpose.”

Take prep­per Kel­lene Bishop, for exam­ple, who gave view­ers a tour of her Orem, Utah home.  She eagerly pointed out her mul­ti­ple food clos­ets: one for canned goods, one for snacks, one for meat… Yes, she has a fuck­ing meat closet.  She was also keen on spout­ing off ran­dom fac­toids that I assume were meant to jus­tify her food hoard­ing habits, for instance, how the price of cocoa has “risen 300% over the last few years.” (It hasn’t.  As NatGeo’s help­ful on-screen info­graphic informed us, it’s actu­ally gone down 30% since the end of 2011.)

Then there are prep­pers like 20-something Megan Hur­witt, whose tiny apart­ment is cov­ered floor to ceil­ing with her “bugout” sup­plies.  She’s got duf­fel bags full of knives, MREs, suri­val kits, and con­doms, which she seems to feel are impor­tant in an end-of-the-world sce­nario.  Then she casu­ally jokes how when Shit Hits The Fan™ she’ll have no prob­lem putting a bul­let in her cat’s head to spare him the agony of liv­ing.  How about just set­ting him free, bitch? I’m pretty sure if shit ever does hit the fan, cats will long out-live any human sur­vivors. Later in the episode she puts her own sur­vival skills to the test and fails miserably.

Prep­pers vs. Hoarders

Who will sur­vive the apoc­a­lypse?  My money’s on hoard­ers. Here’s why:

#1. Hoard­ers are already liv­ing in a dooms­day sce­nario.  The Prep­pers may have more food and guns stashed away, but don’t Hoard­ers already have the edge when it comes to sur­vival? In many cases, their gas, elec­tric­ity and water has already been cut off.  They’re used to liv­ing day-to-day, scrap­ing by on what­ever (prob­a­bly expired) food they have stashed around the house. And when that runs out, there’s plenty of stray cats around.

#2.  Prep­pers are too fat. It’s hard not to notice how obese most of these dooms­day prep­pers are. Do these peo­ple look like they could eas­ily run?  Is David Sarti a.k.a. “the Hill­billy Prep­per” going to ride his trac­tor to safety?

#3. Hoard­ers are cra­zier. Yes, the prep­pers are pretty bat­shit, but hoard­ers can get down­right scary con­fronta­tional when they feel threat­ened. I wouldn’t fuck with those people.

#4. Have you seen how dis­gust­ing Hoarder homes are? Between the dead cats, feces, and rot­ting food, who would even want to go scav­eng­ing there? Like whales that shit in the ocean to ward off preda­tors, human filth is a hoarder’s most reli­able defense mechanism.

#5. Keep on prepping—I’m tak­ing notes.  By being a prep­per, you’re mak­ing your­self a tar­get for the rest of us. Thanks to Dooms­day Prep­pers, we now know who these peo­ple are and where they live.  When shit hits the fan, guess whose house I will be raid­ing first?

‘Breaking Bad’ Gets the 8-Bit Treatment

Via Scoop.it — Shezcrafti

FACT: Sell­ing meth is more fun in 8-bits.

Col­lege Humor has pro­duced a fan­tas­tic faux role-playing game ver­sion of the twisted AMC meth cooker hit. Too bad it’s not the real thing. But beware: Spoil­ers lie within.

Via news.cnet.com

Watch the video below to watch Walt & Jesse kick some pix­ely ass (but BEWARE MAJOR SPOILERS if you haven’t’ seen all of the show):

The Pin Board of Truth

I’m sure by now you’re sick of hear­ing about Pin­ter­est, and I’m sorry that I can’t shut the fuck up about it on this blog lately.  The shit is like a never end­ing parade of visual porn (and that’s not nec­es­sar­ily a bad thing). As a Pin­ter­est new­bie, I’m vividly aware that I’m being led down a prim­rose path of un-productivity. And that’s okay too.

Just when you think you’ve reached your quota of cool things to look at for the day, you hit refresh and before you know it it’s after mid­night and you’re still rear­rang­ing your pin boards.  I would not object to a Pin­ter­ven­tion.

I can’t help but be amazed by the sheer vol­ume of inter­est­ing things peo­ple pin.  Pic­tures of impec­ca­bly dec­o­rated rooms, per­fectly coor­di­nated out­fits, and other impos­si­bly ide­al­is­tic depic­tions of their prob­a­bly not-so-amazing lives.

This is why the Pin Board of Truth was born. I cre­ated it to remind myself and other pin­ners that it’s okay not to be per­fect. It’s okay to want things. But don’t take it all so seriously.

Now please go repin my pins.

Watch Some Dude with a Mullet Explain Why Ninja Turtles are Evil

Back in the late 80’s/early 90’s, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Tur­tles were everywhere—TV, the box office, toy stores, t-shirts, lunch­boxes, super­mar­ket aisles (basi­cally every aspect of my child­hood).  And typ­i­cal of most full-blown pop cul­ture phe­nom­e­nons, Chris­t­ian peo­ple were irra­tionally afraid of them.

This Chris­t­ian dude with a mul­let explains:

“The heroes are using ‘white magic’ or East­ern mys­tic ‘good pow­ers’, such as Star Wars taught us; the ‘good side’ of the force.  The bad guys are using the bad pow­ers; the ‘black side’ of the force.  It’s the same pow­ers exactly when you look at it from a Bib­li­cal view­point.  It’s white and black magic, which is a fallacy.”

Watch the video for more pro-Christian pro­pa­ganda, flimsy cor­re­la­tions between Vanilla Ice and witch­craft, and other lam­en­ta­ble 80’s fashions.

LOL, Chris­tians.

Ridiculous Video Game Storage Solutions

We gamers tend to have a lot of plas­tic things lay­ing around:  con­soles, con­trollers, periph­er­als such as head­sets, mics, and adapters, add-ons, acces­sories, includ­ing large, bulky items like Rock Band gui­tars and Wii Sports attach­ments, cords, mis­cel­la­neous odds and ends, and the games them­selves; some with cases, some with­out.  We have large accu­mu­la­tions of stuff; most of it mis­matched, unat­trac­tive and awkwardly-shaped.

Gamers have so much stuff, in fact, that a whole sub-industry has sprung up around us to accom­mo­date all of our crap:  video game stor­age!  Did you know that “Game Stor­age” is one of the fastest-growing prod­uct cat­e­gories among fur­ni­ture man­u­fac­tur­ers?  Or that there are entire com­pa­nies and  blogs ded­i­cated to video game stor­age?  When it comes to keep­ing our gam­ing col­lec­tions and gear neatly stowed away, there seem to be no lim­its to the amount of avail­able prod­ucts to choose from, which range from taste­ful, furniture-like solu­tions to cheap, gaudy, and overly-specific wastes of money.

Here’s a humor­ous look at some of the most ridicu­lous “solu­tions” that some of these com­pa­nies are try­ing to sell you:

Wii Tower Gam­ing Station

Despite being large enough to count as stand­alone fur­ni­ture, this “offi­cially licensed” thing only holds 16 Wii games and 4 Wiimotes (or 2 Wiimotes and 2 Nunchucks). At 47% of the pur­chase price of a new Wii, the Wii Tower Gam­ing Sta­tion can be yours for a mere $70 at Wal­mart.  But hey, it looks like a Wii!

Nin­tendo DS Ele­ment Tray

I haven’t quite fig­ured out who Level Up Gear’s Nin­tendo DS Ele­ment Tray is meant for.  Most of us who carry around our DS—a portable gam­ing handheld—keep it in some kind of case meant for, you know, porta­bil­ity.  I keep mine in my mes­sen­ger bag and pretty much always have it with me.  So what exactly is the point of this thing?  Do we really need cuphold­ers for extra sty­luses?  Also, how are you sup­posed to pick this thing up by its han­dle with­out all your loose games falling off?

Playsta­tion Ver­sus Game Tray

Another gem from Level Up Gear, this piece of plas­tic with a Playsta­tion logo slapped on it is sup­posed to be some kind of caddy for your PS3 con­trollers (or PS2 con­trollers, as their web­site so help­fully points out). Care­ful not to let any extra plas­tic go to waste, the Playsta­tion Ver­sus Game Tray also comes equipped with four awkwardly-positioned slots for hold­ing games; I guess there’s only room enough for the ones you play most often.

Video Game Stor­age System™

Note the trade­mark sym­bol.  I guess Game On wasn’t clever enough to come up with a unique prod­uct name, so they opted for the super generic sure-to-be-SEO-friendly “Video Game Stor­age Sys­tem” to describe what is essen­tially a plas­tic box with some hooks stuck to the sides.  While I can appre­ci­ate the sim­plic­ity of the design, what’s so insult­ing about this one is that it costs $60.  Really?  And for that price, this “sys­tem” doesn’t even have ade­quate air­flow or a way to hide your cables if you’re sup­posed to mount this thing on a wall.  For a good laugh, I rec­om­mend check­ing out their prod­uct demon­stra­tion video.

Step 2 Deluxe Video Center

Just look­ing at the Step 2 Deluxe Video Cen­ter pisses me off for some rea­son.  Maybe it’s the fact that it only fits 20″ tele­vi­sions, that it’s made entirely of plas­tic, or that the poor stock pho­tog­ra­phy sub­jects who can’t pos­si­bly both be play­ing a single-player FPS at the same time—but nice try!  For the $150 price tag, you could go out and buy a real piece of furniture.

System-Specific Game Disc Stands

Do we really need to have game disc hold­ers that match each console—especially ones that only hold 12 games? Ever heard of a shelf?

Who is buy­ing this stuff??

Friday Lulz: The Poopoozela Edition

Sur­prise Poop!

Seri­ously, I almost peed my pants at this.

Glid­ing and turn­ing are the heart and soul of skateboarding.

Daniel Gezmer would like to intro­duce you to the magic of effort­less gliding.

Dara O’Brian is Really Bad at Video Games

Did you know that game devel­op­ers secretly hate you?

Awful ‘X-Men: First Class’ Posters Look Fan-Made

Did some intern who just learned how to use Pho­to­shop design these or what?

Do The Scarn!

Epic episode of The Office tonight.

Dance Steps:

1. Jump to your right and shake a hand
2. Jump to the left and shake THAT hand
3. Meet new friends
4. Tie that yarn
5. And that’s how you do THE SCARN!

Pre­dic­tion: The Scarn will replace The Elec­tric Slide as the new wed­ding classic.

Splode to Joy

I love explo­sions.  I love Beethoven. When I get bored, I make things like this: a litany of explod­ing heads, body parts, and human com­bus­tion com­piled from 43 dif­fer­ent movies set to Beethoven’s 9th.

Can you name them all?

Check out the descrip­tion on YouTube if you wanna know where all this splody amaz­ing­ness came from.

If you really want fat, lazy gamers to click your ad…

…you might want to re-think show­cas­ing a circa 1985 Nin­tendo Enter­tain­ment Sys­tem, let alone using a stock photo that has clearly been (badly) shop’d.  I’m glad you know how to use the Paint Bucket tool.  Unfor­tu­nately, you’re a tool too.

Next time try show­ing a PS3, a 360, or any other con­sole that wasn’t made over 25 years ago.  Some of your tar­get audi­ence (read: the ones with­out hair on their balls) may not even know what the hell an NES is.  You might also be per­ceived as more legit­i­mate if you just–

Wait, what’s this?

…Lazy? … Soda? It’s like…almost as if this ad was writ­ten for me!  $150 a day, wowee!  But wait…what if the games I have to test are lame?

“I’m not talk­ing about some lame ass games online. I’m talk­ing about the lat­est and great­est games that are yet to hit the shelves.”

It’s like you’re read­ing my mind!  I don’t know how you do it!!!  Where do I sign up!?!?!

Oh. </3

Filed under: who-falls-for-this-shit-anyway

iPad with Wings

To the delight of Mac geeks and fan­boys every­where,  Apple unveiled its hotly antic­i­pated tablet today.  Its unfor­tu­nate name? The iPad.

Almost imme­di­ately, the Twit­ter­verse was rife with men­strual humor.  Here are a few of my favorite jabs:

@ThirtyTwoTwelve:  #iTa­m­pon there’s an app for twat.

@matthewathome:  Will Apple release a (Red) edi­tion of the iPad once a month? #iTampon

@Nickdstm:  #iTa­m­pon for only $499, no strings attached!

@stoogyruby:   iPads are for 8th graders. I’m wait­ing for the iTa­m­pon, because I pre­fer to do all my inter­net­ing from inside my vagina.

And of course, because we’re all just a bunch of imma­ture ass­holes, #iTa­m­pon became a top trend­ing topic.

Update:  It was inevitable.

I didn’t realize New Moon was a comedy

All this week I pur­posely stayed away from the spoil­ers, the leaked clips, the early reviews, the 3 a.m. tweets, and the rav­ing fan­girl Twi­hards in social­me­di­a­land.  I wanted to see New Moon with­out my already low opin­ion of Stephe­nie Meyer and her ilk taint­ing my expe­ri­ence.  So tonight I cast aside the Twilulz and gave New Moon a chance.

I want my $10.00 back.

New Moon started badly, ended badly, with plenty of suck in between. Now, I real­ize The Twi­light Saga isn’t exactly pro­found lit­er­a­ture.  I also real­ize I’m about ten years older than this franchise’s tar­get audi­ence.  But I also know the dif­fer­ence between good and bad movies, and New Moon is a ter­ri­ble film.  The Twi­hards must be happy, though.  If they were hop­ing for a per­fect smoldering-glare-by-smoldering-glare trans­la­tion of the book, New Moon delivers.

It’s not like the con­cept of vam­pires ver­sus were­wolves is any­thing new, nei­ther is the injec­tion of a trite love tri­an­gle.  But when you take already-ridiculous sub­ject mat­ter and try to turn it into a seri­ous film, usu­ally one of two things hap­pens:  1) You get some­thing akin to Under­world.  2) Hilar­ity.  New Moon col­lapsed under the weight of its own attempt at being seri­ous.  There were some moments when I felt like I was watch­ing One Life to Live.  At other times, an after-school spe­cial.   Sure, I laughed dur­ing the parts where I was sup­posed to laugh.  There were plenty of inten­tion­ally funny moments pep­pered through­out the film, and these I enjoyed.  But I knew the movie was bad when I couldn’t stop laugh­ing at the seri­ous parts.  I wasn’t alone, either.  I heard snorts and sti­fled gig­gles all around me.

I found these bits espe­cially lol-worthy:

• Grandma Swan’s thou­sand yard stare.
• Edward Cullen’s fond­ness for walk­ing in slow-motion.
• CGI were­wolves emote sur­pris­ingly well.  Almost as good as Fal­cor in the Nev­erend­ing Story!
• Throngs of ambigu­ously gay shirt­less wolfmen.
• Cam­era shots that make every­thing seem EPIC.
• Bella and Edward frol­ick­ing through the woods. Yes, frol­ick­ing.
• The Volturi’s drag makeup.
  
• Bella is evi­dently a Mac geek.  No won­der I hate her.

And those were just some of the good parts.  Aside from mak­ing me laugh inap­pro­pri­ately, the film’s music was another sore point.  The score seemed so out of place in most scenes, it was almost laugh­able.  In other places it was weirdly silent.  I really missed Carter Burwell’s beau­ti­ful Bella’s Lul­laby theme from the first movie; I wish they had reprised it here.  In fact there was no trace of any kind of theme at all in New Moon; just the occa­sional soap opera-ish strings (you know, dur­ing the “smol­der­ing glares”) and and end­less playlist of sedate, instantly for­get­table indie songs.  This is one ille­gal down­load I’ll skip.

New Moon has a run­ning time of 2 hours.  By the 90 minute mark, I was pray­ing for it to end.  Say what you want about Cather­ine Hardwicke’s gritty direct­ing style, but she did a hell of a lot bet­ter on Twi­light than Chris Weitz on New Moon.  It’s sad that I have to say this, but New Moon makes Twi­light—a much lower bud­get film, I might add—look like an Oscar nom­i­nee. I don’t sup­pose it’s entirely Chris Weitz’s fault, though, con­sid­er­ing the source.  New Moon is a shitty book, ergo, New Moon is a shitty movie.  I guess you can’t pol­ish a turd.

God, I hate being right all the time!

This is so much fail…

Don’t ask why, but I was idly brows­ing the Har­riet Carter site, a glo­ri­ous domes­tic baz­zare of gifts for old peo­ple and As Seen On TV prod­ucts, when I stum­bled upon the com­plete fail­ure above.

“Gui­tar Hero® hand­held game packs all the action of the mon­ster video game into a pocket-sized ver­sion you can play anywhere!”

O RLY? I bet Free Bird sounds AWESOME on that tiny speaker.  For $17.98 plus ship­ping and han­dling, it even has a cara­biner, so you can clip it to your belt and walk around with an over­priced piece of plas­tic shame dan­gling from your waist.  This is exactly the type of bull­shit clue­less par­ents buy their kids,  try­ing to save a few bucks, only to find it quickly dis­posed and for­got­ten.  They could just take their money to GameStop and buy a used copy of the real Gui­tar Hero for about the same price.

This deserves a spot on my Worst Gifts for Gamers list. Per­haps a Part 2 is in order.

Totally Emo Movie Heroes

There’s been a dis­turb­ing trend in Hol­ly­wood over the last cou­ple of years: inva­sion of the emos.  Aparently we girls like our movie heroes hot, angry, and whiny.  For what­ever rea­son, the hot male lead + pent-up angst for­mula seems to be work­ing, because emo sells.  All of the spec­i­mens listed here can typ­i­cally be found star­ing soul-searchingly out from the pages of Tiger­beat, or star­ring unwill­ingly in the steamy chap­ters of Mary Sue fanfics writ­ten by obsessed teenage girls.

Edward Cullen

‘Twi­light’ 2008

Most emo line:
“I don’t have the strength to stay away from you anymore.”

Favorite emo acces­sory:
A well-tailored cus­tom peacoat.

Rec­og­niz­able by his brood­ing stares, per­fectly disheveled hair and stalker ten­den­cies, Edward Cullen is a prod­uct of the roman­tic fan­tasies of 30-something author Stephanie Meyer, who would like you to believe he’s a dan­ger­ous vam­pire despite not drink­ing human blood and hav­ing no fangs.  Edg­ing out Buffy’s Angel in “the vam­pire who wants to be good” mar­ket, Edward Cullen is a vampy hero who spends the major­ity of his time obnox­iously tor­tur­ing him­self over his human love inter­est, the per­pet­ual damsel-in-distress Bella Swan.  Super­fi­cially played by Robert Pat­tin­son, who never read the books and never misses an oppor­tu­nity to make fun of his own sculpted-browed character.

Harry Pot­ter

‘Harry Pot­ter and the Pris­oner of Azk­a­ban’ 2004

Most emo line:
“HE WAS THEIR FRIEND!!!”

Favorite emo acces­sory:
An invis­i­bil­ity cloak, to hide his spon­ta­neous fits of crying.

There is per­haps no hero more emo than boy-wizard Harry Pot­ter, who, among other things, strug­gles with school, girls, dead par­ents, abu­sive rel­a­tives, and an evil dark wiz­ard who con­stantly tries to mur­der him.  In a way, his emo-ness is prob­a­bly the most jus­ti­fied.  Some of Harry’s favorite activ­i­ties include mouthing off to teach­ers and Slytherins, alien­at­ing his two best friends, star­ing long­ingly at pretty Hog­warts girls, and wal­low­ing in the “nobody under­stands me” vari­ety of self-pity.  Played by Daniel Rad­cliffe, whose act­ing (thank­fully) seems to be get­ting bet­ter with each movie.

Anakin Sky­walker

‘Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith’ 2005

Most emo line:
“Nooooooooooooooooooo!”

Favorite emo acces­sory:
A lightsaber, for mur­der­ing Jedi children.

Bet­ter known as Darth Vader, Anakin Sky­walker is the tragic anti­hero of the Star Wars uni­verse.  Played by a young and vir­ile Hay­den Chris­tensen, Darth Vader’s youth is a far cry away from the crusty old white man unmasked in the orginal Episode VI.  Unfor­tu­nately Christensen’s act­ing kinda sucks, so his ver­bal tran­si­tion to the dark side is often ripe with unin­ten­tional humor.  Anakin’s favorite hob­bies: dis­agree­ing with the Jedi Coun­cil, chillin’ with Darth Sid­i­ous, brood­ing over visions of Padme dying (then later help­ing the process along by chok­ing her—with his MIND), and whin­ing because he wasn’t bestowed the title of Jedi Mas­ter.  Now that I think about it, most evil over­lords act pretty emo, don’t they? I urge you to rec­og­nize the warn­ing signs.

The Phan­tom of the Opera

‘The Phan­tom of the Opera’ 2004

Most emo line:
“The world showed no com­pas­sion to me!”

Favorite emo acces­sory:
A mask that hides half of his hideous face.

Despite being 50% bru­tally hot and hav­ing a tremen­dous singing voice, the Phan­tom, an eter­nal pes­simist, refuses to rec­og­nize his inner beauty and instead uses his defor­mity as his jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for mur­der­ing, steal­ing, and of course, stalk­ing the beau­ti­ful Chris­tine Daae.  But it’s not actor Ger­ard Butler’s fault.  Gas­ton Leroux’s iconic Phan­tom of the Opera, once a ruth­less and fear­some char­ac­ter, has been emas­cu­lated into the whin­ing, cry­ing, opera-singing emo kid most peo­ple are famil­iar with today, thanks to Broad­way leg­end Andrew Lloyd Weber.  

Spider-Man

‘Spider-Man 3′ 2007

Most emo line:
“I don’t need your help!“

Favorite emo acces­sory:
His emo flip hair­cut. 

As if Peter Parker wasn’t emo enough—you know, cry­ing about his dead Uncle Ben and pin­ing over Mary Jane—in Spider-Man 3, Toby Macguire gets what can only best be described as an extreme emo makeover, ruin­ing an oth­er­wise decent third install­ment of the block­buster Mar­vel franchise.

Futher­more, WTF is this?

 

The Greatest Movie Quotes Have Six Words

I’m not sure what tear in the space-time con­tin­uum enabled me to notice, but the great­est movie quotes have only six words.  Don’t ask me why!  What I do know is that it was fun to go through all my DVDs to dig up these awe­some screen­shots for you.

“May the force be with you.”

What can be said about this quote that hasn’t been said already? Every time Han Solo utters these epic words to Luke Sky­walker before going on his mis­sion to destroy the Death Star, every Star Wars fan­boy gets a lit­tle wood.  Admit it.

“No time for love, Dr. Jones!”

Mon­key brains, a dude that rips people’s hearts out of their bare chests, kamikaze rope bridge maneu­vers, Har­ri­son Ford when he was still hot—this movie had it all.  And it also had the great­est side­kick ever, Short Round, played by Jonathan Ke Quan, before he went on to yet another stereo­typ­i­cal Asian role involv­ing booby­traps: Data from The Goonies.

Speak­ing of which…

“Man…you smell like Phys Ed!”

Baby Ruths bring even the unlike­li­est of friends together.  Who knew annoy­ing fat kids and smelly deformed mutants could be BFFs?

“Eng­lish, moth­er­fucker, do you speak it?!”

Samuel L. Jack­son doesn’t like it when you say “what,” espe­cially mul­ti­ple times.  But he loves dar­ing you to say it again.

“I have to return some videotapes.”

That’s Patrick Bateman-speak for mur­der­ing yup­pies and hook­ers with an axe.

“I don’t appre­ci­ate your ruse, Ma’am.”

Ruse (rooz) [Mid­dle Eng­lish]: A cun­ning attempt to trick Ran­dall Graves, RST Video’s under­achiev­ing Employee of the Year.  There’s noth­ing more exhil­a­rat­ing than point­ing out the short­com­ings of oth­ers, is there?

“You remind me of the babe!”

“What babe?” you ask.  Why, the babe with the power, of course.  The power of voodoo—well you know the rest.

And last but not least…

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

The most pro­found six words ever com­mit­ted to film.

Bonus 5-word hon­or­able men­tion:

“Never rub another man’s rhubarb.”

Oprah’s Caps Lock Key is Working

The Big O is finally on Twit­ter.  Brace your­self for an influx of soc­cer moms, pseudo-psychiatrists, and a gen­eral increase in the community’s estro­gen lev­els.  Oprah reached over 75,000 fol­low­ers in a sin­gle day, before she ever sent her first tweet.

And how fit­ting that Oprah’s first tweet was in ALL CAPS, the oft-favored style of moms, emo kids, celebu­tards, and other newbs that don’t know how to inter­net.  It’s kind of cute, really.  Like a kit­ten lost in a paper bag.  Of course, Oprah has enough money to just hire peo­ple to Twit­ter for her.

For all the warm and fuzzy life-affirming, book club­bing, puppy-hugging good­ness that’s sure to come, fol­low @Oprah.

Happee Tanksgivinz

Happee Tanks­giv­inz