Archived entries for 4 the Lulz

Friendly remindarrr! Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day

If you arrr not talking like a pirate today, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.

That’s right me hearties, today is September 19th–Talk Like a Pirate Day, which is right up there with Christmas on the awesome holiday hierarchy. Well, arrright, maybe that’s giving it too much credit, but it’s definitely less lame than Arbor Day.

Avast! Here’s a fun pirate illustration from GHERGICH & CO. to celebrate this most glorious of days:

Talk Like a Pirate Day

Also, because I’m lazy, I’ll just link you to some of my past pirate content, savvy?

WARNING: Comments on this post will only be accepted in Pirate-speak!

Don’t worry, if you don’t know how to speak Pirate, use this handy English-to-Pirate translator.


Why do toy makers think little girls are obsessed with poop?

That’s my burning question for The League this week, which asks “why?” No, really, WHY? Profound, I know.

I was willing to let this whole pooping pets thing slide when I thought there was only one of these dolls–specifically, the one with the glitter-pooping rabbit (she typed, feeling utterly ridiculous) that I had seen on a friend’s Facebook page in one of those “I can’t believe this actually exists” type of posts, as it borders the line between totally awesome and kinda fucked up. It’s a thin line.

According to this extremely annoying website, “moxie” means having “the courage to go for it!” Someone at MGA Entertainment certainly did.

Meet Lexa. She’s an outgoing brunette girl with “Moxie” and a hideous fashion sense. And more importantly, A PET RABBIT THAT POOPS GLITTER!

I Poop Glitter!

Being a Moxie Girl is all about having “the strength to do something amazing.” Yes, girls, “Anything is possible as long as you stay true to yourself and never give up on your dreams!” Apparently Moxie Girlz dream about animals that shit sparkly things, like glitter, which really makes me call into question this whole idea of teaching little girls to dream big. Are there no kittens that poop diamonds? Or Fabergé eggs? At the very least, how ’bout a hamster that shits arcade tokens? What the hell are you going to do with glitter? Certainly not wear it, I hope, considering it just came out of something’s ass.

On a recent trip to Toys ‘R Us, I discovered glitter-pooping rabbits are just the tip of the giant floating turd. Take sweet, girl-next-door type Avery, for example. She dreams about koala bears that shit jewels!

I Poop Jewels!

At least I think that’s supposed to be a koala. If it is, it’s a shitty koala. Anyway, despite being a dumb blonde, Avery has the good sense to have found a pet that poops something valuable, at least. You go, girl!

Finally, we have Kellan (have I mentioned how much I hate these names?) who I’m declaring the winner of having pets that poop awesome things. First, it’s a unicorn, so that automatically wins, and B, it poops RAINBOWS.

I Poop Rainbows!

I know what you’re thinking–of course unicorns poop rainbows! I am, however, a little disappointed in the execution. Those turds look more like jelly beans, not actual rainbows. That should be a disclaimer on the package. But then again, I guess real rainbows wouldn’t be so easy to feed back to the unicorn, so she could shit them out again.


If I haven’t mentioned it yet, that’s clearly the best thing about these pets–they eat their own poop.

Why did I just spend so much time writing pooping pet toys?

That’s a good follow-up question, I think.

Wondering what this is all about? This week’s assignment from The League of Extraordinary Bloggers was to ask “Why”? Here’s what my homies in the League wrote about:

*More links coming soon!*

Not for Trade/Sale: My Cat

Despite being overly attached to this comic box lid, he doesn’t come with the Catwoman comics I have up for trade/sale. But if you throw in an extra $1, I’ll fish up something extra special from his litter box just for you.

Simon Belmont

Simon Belmont

Simon Belmont

Simon Belmont

Simon Belmont

Simon Belmont

Just doing my part to contribute more cats to the internet.

History, motherf*ckers! FDR: American Badass

It’s not often something that’s actually educational sneaks into my feed reader, and even less often when that something perfectly aligns with one of my weird interests in some way and I end up giving two shits and posting about it. Today is one of those days.

But first, here’s the history lesson from Geekosystem that started this:

On this day in 1933, only eight days into his presidency, President Franklin D. Roosevelt made his national radio debut with the first of his famous “fireside chats.”  Presidential speeches and addresses were propagated to the masses all the time, but what made FDR’s fireside chats different was their intimacy. They were broadcast via radio from the White House to the radios of every American who tuned in.

You can go read the whole article if you really care that much, or, if like my own high school days, American History was just another period in which you could safely take naps (stay awesome Mr. Holbrook!) and you’ve forgotten why our 32nd President of the United States was so bad ass.

Luckily I’m here to remind us all:

FDR: American Badass!

On January 30th, 1882, a man was born that would go on to change the course of world history as we know it. This man was a true American Badass.

I know…because I am him.

Badassery is not born, but often thrust upon you. The film you are about to see is dedicated to Badasses everywhere. If you have to ask yourself if you are one, you’re probably not.


Franklin Delano Roosevelt

I had the privilege of seeing this movie over Valentine’s Day weekend (really, can you think of anything more romantic?) and I’ve been dying for an excuse to post about it ever since. How can I not love a movie about Franklin Delano Roosevelt in a rocket-powered wheelchair controlled with Atari joysticks doing battle with an army of Nazi werewolves? At one point he gives an inspirational speech that directly quotes Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ On a Prayer.” That was the exact moment I knew my love was true.

It also has this guy and his charming wife/cousin:

Asshole Grease

He is slightly less awesome than FDR himself. But only slightly. Whenever he graced the screen, my heart swelled with a natural warmth that invigorated me and caused me to be able to do things I could only do when I was a fetus–I am sorry, I am quite inebriated and I was unaware that I was speaking out loud just now.

FDR: American Badass is ridiculously funny, and not even in a you-need-to-be-high-to-enjoy-it kind of way. I would recommend it to anyone who loves America, peaches, shitting in vases, and not giving any fucks.


ShezCrafti’s Rating:

10 out of 10 stars.


Nicky & Alex voted most likely to be kicked out of Full House.

In last month’s poll, I asked you guys who should be kicked out of Full House. Personally, I threw in a vote for Joey, because what does Joey even do? Sure, he’s supposedly there to help raise the girls and be the comic relief, but what does he really contribute  besides wearing the most god-awful shirts you’ve ever seen and making shitty jokes? Even Kimmy Gibbler does that job better.

Joey Gladstone

My idea of hell is sitting through a two-hour long Joey Gladstone comedy special co-starring Mr. Woodchuck. “Say, I don’t hear anyone laughing! Are you people made of…” *looks around* “…WOOD!?”  It’s not that I dislike Joey as a person, I just think it’d be better for everyone involved if he moved out. At least then the poor guy might have a chance at getting laid.

But if there is one character–ok, two characters, but not by much of a stretch–that deserve to get the boot from Full House more than Joey Gladstone, it is Nicky and Alex. If you don’t remember them, they’re the cute but talentless shaggy-haired twins who were foist upon us from Becky’s gaping womb in Season 5, carrying on the grand tradition of adding babies to TV shows because everyone loves babies, right?

I offered them up as a package deal, which 47% of you jumped on:

Who would you kick out of Full House?

Sorry little guys, but the two you were never as cute or interesting as one Michelle Tanner. We love our over-exploited twin child stars, but only when they’re playing the same person. Otherwise it’s confusing and things just get boring.

Pop quiz: which one is Nicky and which one is Alex?

Nicky & Alex: Which one is which??

Answer: Nobody fucking cares!

Also of note:

Your animosity was divided evenly between DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle, who each got 10% of the vote. DJ’s a resourceful girl, so I’d be the least worried about her living out on the streets. She did, after all, move into the garage that one time because she was upset about not having her own room–which brings me back to Joey and why he’s kind of a selfish prick for sticking around so long and taking up valuable bedroom space.

Not surprisingly, nobody voted to kick out Uncle Jesse and Becky, because HAVE MERCY!

I am, however, a little shocked that someone actually voted to kick out Danny. Really? Not only does he make shitpiles of money (or at least we have to assume so, given his Wake Up San Francisco gig almost single-handedly supports eight other people) but that motherfucker can cook AND he actually enjoys cleaning up after everyone. Plus, BOB SAGET. Respect.

Are you ready to go on a World Wide Webscapade!?

Reblogging because 90s!

You’re still running Windows 95, right? Someone over at College Humor–presumably named Douglas Engelbert–has created a browser-based game (and I’m using the word “game” pretty loosely here) where literally all you have to do is scroll your mouse! Note the extreme mid-90′s aesthetics. You haven’t seen graphics this intense since Game Genie.

[Start Scrollin'!]

Scrollin' Adventure

Take a ride on the information superhighway to hone your scrollmanship and do battle with the evil Scrollex! Just be sure not to miss the Jam Break at the halfway point–you’ll be rewarded with awesome music and there’s just enough time to go get some Dunkaroos.


I was just kidding about Windows 95, by the way. Though I’m kinda secretly hoping there’s one of you still out there who never upgraded for some crazy reason, browsing this page on Netscape.

[via Topless Robot]

My official reaction to the Megan Fox = April O’Neil news.

From Variety:

After pushing production to do more work on the script, Paramount’s “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” reboot looks back on track as the studio has tapped Megan Fox to star as April O’Neil.

Enjoy the show.


In what is possibly the BEST COMMENT EVER on this blog, Shawn Robare humbly suggests, “Maybe they hired her simply as the molding model for the Turtles hands, they’re going to mold her toethumbs and use them to make more accurate fingers for the Turtles.”

Look what you made me do, Shawn.

Toe Thumb vs. Turtle Thumb



The most ridiculous(ly awesome) pirate songs I know.

Dread Pirate Roberts

My first impulse after seeing this week’s League assignment was “pirates” was to make a list of my Top 5 Favorite Pirates, but then I remembered I kinda already did that. It’s not the most meaty or well thought-out of posts, but then again I threw it together in ten minutes for National Talk Like a Pirate Day, which I almost forgot about, and if I’m being completely honest, I really wanted an excuse to work “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” into my title as a verb. That’s just good writing.

My second impulse was to write about Sid Meier’s Pirates, the classic pirate sim game, but then I remembered only a small percentage of my readers give a shit about video games, so I’ll save that particular rambling for RunJumpFire.

Sorry, Sid Meier

Also, thanks to Disney’s ability to milk its own theme park rides for obscene amounts at the box office, and Johnny Depp’s willingness to keep sucking on that teatPirates of the Carribean is usually the first thing I think of whenever I hear the word “pirates.” I don’t like that.

I will also never have generic pirate toys with rich and engaging backstories as cool as The Goodwill Geek’s, so I was kind of at a loss for ideas.

But then, all of a sudden, I remembered something important. Something profound. Something that dick-slapped me in the face with INSPIRATION.

I am a pirate!
And being a pirate is all right to be.
And more importantly,
I can do what I want
because a pirate is free!

Such liberation, such poetry comes from the greatest song about pirates (and most disturbing video) the internet has ever known:

“You Are A Pirate!”

by whatever cokehead pedophile is responsible for LazyTown

Okay, so what if it’s the de-facto theme song for anybody who’s ever downloaded anything illegally? (Which I’ve never done. EVAR.) You have to admit it’s fucking catchy. As in, I catch myself singing this all the damn time. And also pondering the lyric, “We’ll dig up the box–we know it’s full of precious booty!” That’s like a total euphemism, right? It’s also one of my life’s ambitions to learn Stephanie’s dance moves.

But anyway, I was energized and encouraged because I suddenly had my angle for this post: more awesome pirate songs.

“From the Seas to the Streets”

by Captain Dan & The Scurvy Crew

You guys, PIRATE RAP EXISTS! I’m not just talking about one single video here. THERE ARE LITERALLY WHOLE ALBUMS FULL OF THIS SHIT, with pirates rapping songs like “It’s All About The Booty” and “Real Swashbucklers (Throw Your Hooks In The Air).” I’d also like to take a moment to point out that Captain Dan & The Scurvy Crew refer to their website’s homepage as “home port.” I don’t know why this excites me, but it does.

This is almost as awesome as that time I discovered Ninja Sex Party. Except not quite, because ninjas > pirates.

“HOT Pirates of the Carribean”

A Symphony of the Word “Hot” by Hot Symphony

This one’s pretty self-explanatory, and the appeal of hot pirate bitches is obvious. Plus, it’s easy to sing along with. HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT.

“The Gay Pirate Song”

by some guy named Trey Green

Okay, this one I actually had no idea existed before today. I got to thinking deep thoughts, as is so often the case when I’m writing these posts, and said to myself, “Surely someone out there has made a song about pirates being gay.” A quick YouTube search later and I was well on my way to being enchanted by the sounds of Trey Green (who is NOT a gay pirate, disappointingly) with lyrics like, “We pillage, we plunder, for treasure and men, and for booty that’s free of disease.” Just think of every terrible pirate pun that could be twisted around to sound like something homosexual (poop deck!), and you’ll have a pretty good idea what to expect from this song. I like things that are straightforward if you know what I mean.

Oh hey, speaking of Gay Pirates, I was doing some “research” for this post (look, just shut up and stop judging me) when I stumbled upon THIS masterpiece:

It’s a piece called “Gay Star Trek Pirate Unicorn” by an artist named Kina. I also feel compelled to point out that this was a commission. That’s right. Somebody out there envisioned this, and then paid an artist to birth this from her creative loins. Amazing.


Wondering what this is all about? This week’s assignment from The League of Extraordinary Bloggers was the topic “pirates,” which apparently won the vote against infinitely more awesome topics like “ninjas” and “robots.” (Really guys?) Anyway, here’s a sampling of some of the pirate-y things my fellow bloggers wrote about:

You are now entering The Busey Zone.

The Busey Zone

I learned three important facts about Gary Busey (a.k.a The Poor Man’s Nick Nolte) today:

1. Gary Busey is still bat-shit crazy.

2. Gary Busey has a YouTube channel called “The Busey Zone.”

3. Gary Busey wants to fuck an inner tube.

If you only watch one thing on YouTube today, please let it be the first 23 seconds of this video. I promise it is worth watching for the bizarre, early 80s-esque intro sequence alone. And if you’re brave enough to continue, you’ll be rewarded with Gary Busey describing in great detail how you can “pump fuck” an inner tube without anyone noticing.

No shit, this is part of the actual quote:

“Get some rubber hosing that you can put around the hole of the inner tube. It looks like a round mouth. What you can do is find pleasure by yourself with an inner tube in a beautiful body of water with trees, with birds flying around and chirping, doves honking at you, it’s just beautiful and puts you in a romantic mood. But no one’s there but you. And the inner tube. So what you do insert yourself–your pleasure body parts–into that hole on the inner tube, and then you can push and pull the inner tube and just smile and just smile and act like nothing’s happening. And that way you can PUMP-FUCK that inner tube from the top of the river to the bottom of the river!”

Had I known Gary Busey’s videos were THIS FUCKING AWESOME, I would have subscribed a long time ago.

[Hat tip to UPROXX]

How did I know the Ravens were going to the Super Bowl?

Because I also saw Justin Bieber’s ass today. Nothing good ever happens around here without being tainted by something awful.

Justin Bieber's Crack

And now comes the part where I feel a sick sense of satisfaction from having made you look at it, too, AND for the taint pun.

Patrick Bateman wants to show you his Pokemon.

If you listened to the latest episode of the Cult Film Club podcast, you know I’m a huge American Psycho fan and ranked it #1 on my list of favorite cult films of all time. And just from a casual look around this blog, you know I love all things Nintendo. So I nearly shit a brick when this deleted scene surfaced in my feed today, which re-cuts the infamous business card scene into a Pokemon-showing dick-measuring contest.

Oh my God. It even has a watermark.

For a little more context, this scene was supposed to be included as a fun extra on Lionsgate’s 10th Anniversary Blu-ray release of the film, which never panned out. And now that I know this, I’m pretty upset. Like, murder my co-worker with an axe while listening to Huey Lewis upset.

[via Robot Mutant]

Miss Bliss, we need to have a serious talk about your best friend’s wardrobe.

Ah, good old Tina Paladrino: Teacher. Sidekick. Fashion victim.

Even back in 1988, I have no idea where you would have been able to buy outfits as tacky as hers. They’re even tacky for Saved by the Bell, perhaps only a slight improvement over Nikki, who was kind of a Miss Paladrino in miniaturebut at least Nikki has the excuse of being in junior high. As the show’s second fiddle, Tina’s blinding, jewel tone palette stands in such stark contrast to Miss Bliss’s tastefully understated couture, the whole thing comes off as a desperate plea for attention. The only thing more ridiculous than Miss Paladrino’s outfits are her facial expressions.

Let’s critique her Top 20 fashion abortions, shall we? Come on, it’ll be fun.

#1 – Bow Tie Tit Constrictor

This first one has it all: gigantic shoulder pads, suspenders (whose only purpose seem to be squashing Tina’s already too-small breasts), and more hot pink than should be allowed. It even has a theme. Do you know what it is? If you said “bow ties,” eh, okay. I would have also accepted “fugly.”

Tina Paladrino

#2 – Purple Regret

This outfit belongs on a 12-year-old girl who plays with Barbies, not a grown-ass woman. Also, note the purple scrunchie on her head. As you’ll soon learn, this is the start of a trend where Miss Paladrino continually amazes me with her ability to find matching hair accessories just as ugly if not more so than her outfits.

Tina Paladrino

#3 – Re-purposed Purple Regret

Believe it or not, this very familiar-looking get-up is from a completely different episode. I’m guessing this scene was shot back-to-back with the scene above, and the wardrobe people had to scramble to modify Tina’s look in the hopes we wouldn’t notice the recycled scrunchie and cardigan. Either that or Miss Paladrino is a slob who doesn’t regularly do her laundry. Either way, this silk flower nightmare look is a slight improvement over the last. Slight.

Tina Paladrino

#4 – Excess-ories

WTF are those things? Alligators? Angry fish? Retarded sharks? The sad part is this outfit would have been fine without them.

Tina Paladrino

#5 – Tuxedon’t

Ladies, dressing like a man is not cute. The only time it’s acceptable is if your name is Paula Abdul and you’ve time traveled back to 1988. And here again with the matching scrunchie.

Tina Paladrino

#6 – Colorblock Cockblock

The colorblocks really accentuate those shoulder pads. Even her goddamn scrunchie is colorblocked. This outfit repels cocks, is what I’m saying.

Tina Paladrino

#7 – Neon Identity Crisis

Her jacket can’t decide what color it wants to be. It also makes her look 50 pounds overweight. SO HOT.

Tina Paladrino

#8 – K-Mart Cowgirl

Oh my god, it’s a fucking cow print skirt! And a parade of little cows printed across her shirt! WHERE DO YOU EVEN FIND THIS STUFF? I’m a little disappointed there isn’t also a cow-print scrunchie.

Tina Paladrino

Let’s get a closer look at those chest cows (which by the way, lol):

Tina Paladrino

#9 – Green Striped Shame

At this point Miss Paladrino is single-handedly keeping the scrunchie makers in business.

Tina Paladrino

#10 – Polka Dot Desperation

What’s worse than a frumpy cardigan with gigantic polka dots on it?

Tina Paladrino

A frumpy skirt with tiny polka dots on it. Also, is the tie really necessary? At this point I have to assume she’s actively trying to make herself more unattractive.

Tina Paladrino

#11 – Bow Tie Polka Dot Bastard

If outfits #1 and #5 had an illegitimate lovechild, this is what it would look like.

Tina Paladrino

#12 – Whore of the Roses

Totally self-explanatory.

Tina Paladrino

There are even more roses on her back, you guys. SIMPLY AMAZING.

Tina Paladrino

#13 – Major Moron

The only thing more pathetic than wearing fake Army decorations is the amount of time it must have taken to transform an ordinary t-shirt into whatever the hell this is.

Tina Paladrino

#14 – Lesbian

Sorry, I don’t have anything more creative to say about this one.

Tina Paladrino

#15 – Printed Depression

In this episode, Miss Paladrino gets all depressed because her boyfriend Donny left her. I blame this shirt.

Tina Paladrino

…and then her next outfit plants her firmly in psycho ex-girlfriend territory.

Tina Paladrino

#16 – Tiebreaker

The last of too-many times when Miss Paladrino wears a tie, with a special encore by The Scrunchie From Outfit #11.

Tina Paladrino

#17 – Checkered Cheesevomit

This outfit even makes Miss Bliss look like she wants to vomit.

Tina Paladrino

#18 – Polka Dot Princess

It’s official now.

Tina Paladrino

#19 – Polka Dot Princess II

Jesus this woman loves dots. It’s unhealthy.

Tina Paladrino

#20 – Tina Plaidadrino

Puns are awesome. Shut up.

Tina Paladrino

Before it was retconned as the first season of SBTB, Good Morning Miss Bliss lasted for one brief, 13-episode season before cancellation. IS MISS PALADRINO’S WARDROBE TO BLAME?? I don’t think that’s too unreasonable an assumption.

There should be ‘Glamour Shots’ for 80s music videos.

There. That’s a free business idea I’m selflessly bestowing upon the world. Mainly because I wish it were an actual thing.

You remember Glamour Shots, right? Think Deb from Napoleon Dynamite. Your local mall probably had a Glamour Shots at some point or another; most likely in the late 80s or early 90s. It was a chain of portrait studios where you got all gussied up in eyeliner and feather boas like some two-bit whore–the bigger and more feathered your hair, the better–to pose for your very own “glamour shot.” Sometimes you cold even pose with props, like a sparkly microphone or studded cowgirl hat. At Glamour Shots, it didn’t matter how young or old you were, fat or thin, wearing whore make-up and single-handedly depleting the world’s supply of Aqua Net was appropriate for all ages and body types. Sometimes even men.

Oh Google Image Search, you never disappoint. Here’re some of the finest examples of Glamour Shots the internet has to offer:

Glamour Shot Glamour Shot Glamour Shot
Glamour Shots Glamour Shot Glamour Shots

 This is also highly relevant and worth a few minutes of your time: The 20 Worst Glamour Shots

So anyway, back to my brilliant idea. Imagine if there was a Glamour Shots-like place you could go to get made over in the style of your favorite music video? Not just a makeover, though–I’m talking about actually “starring” in one. That’s totally possible nowadays, what with Photoshop and clever video editing, right? Or maybe it could be done kind of like Jab-Jab where there’s these pre-recorded template videos of faceless people dancing the parts of your favorite music videos and all they’d have to do is insert your photo. Yeah…I’VE THOUGHT WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT THIS. I suppose the idea wouldn’t need to be limited to 80′s music videos, but 80′s music videos are obviously the most rad AND the most ridiculous–kind of like Glamour Shots themselves.

I’ve already got my dream videos all picked out:

I know it’s hard to put a pricetag on living your dream, but whaddya think–about $100 or so for the privilege? Discounts if you can supply your own wardrobe. Just think how amazing dinner parties and family get-togethers will be when you can whip out a cheesy music video of your very own.

Getting by with a little help from Louis C.K.

If there is one good thing about being sick for over a week, it’s having a valid excuse to lay in bed all day and watch crap on Netflix. At this point I’ve exhausted most of my Instant queue, discovered a bunch of really great new (well, new to me) shows thanks to Netflix’s suggestions, and even crowdsourced some additional recommendations on Twitter.

But the one show I’ve enjoyed above all others–which has become something like therapy to me–has been Louie. I was familiar with Louis C.K. as a stand-up comedian, but had never actually watched his FX show until last week when I was holed up in bed with a 102-degree fever, heartbroken, angry, bored, hating life and feeling sorry for myself. As it turns out, this was the perfect storm of emotions for acquainting myself with The Gospel of Louie. (By the way, WHY didn’t anyone tell me how amazing this show is?)

With a failed marriage and now a failed relationship (which actually lasted longer than the former) hovering like black storm clouds on my subconscious–right next to those insecurities about my body and the realization that I’m not getting any younger–combined with all those familiar, everyday annoyances and small, personal defeats, this show–especially Louic C.K’s performance in it–strikes me as one that is genuine, brutally honest, and completely relateable.

I’m not quite THAT jaded and cynical yet, but I’m well on my way.

Friendly Doomsday Reminder

It’s tomorrow, people! So I hope all your affairs are in order, all your meat closets are stocked, you’ve spent quality time with loved ones, and most importantly, you’re all caught up on your favorite TV shows. It would’ve really sucked to die a fiery death without knowing whether or not Maggie and Glenn ever made it out of the Governor’s camp alive.

One of the best Christmas gifts I got last year was this 2012 page-a-day Doomsday countdown calendar from my boyfriend:

Doomsday 2012 Calendar

Like the Jelly of the Month Club, it’s a gift that has kept on giving the whole year. I’ve looked forward each and every day to Armageddon preparedness tips, apocalyptic movie and music recommendations, popular end-of-days scenario predictions, things to do before you die, failed Doomsday prophecies (I assume they included those to keep my spirits up), and all kinds of other apocalyptic fun.

I’m proud of myself for having successfully resisted all temptation this year to sneak a peek at what the calendar says for December 21st and beyond, so tomorrow will be quite a big day for me, assuming, of course, I’ll still be alive to tear that page off.

Doomsday Reminder - December 20th

Today’s entry was especially poignant. I’ll type it here in case it’s too hard to read in the above pic:

The Day Before The Day Before The Day After

Big day tomorrow.
Rest up, drink plenty of fluids.

Pick out your clothes carefully–
you may be wearing them for quite some time.

Also, set up your coffee machine tonight–
you’d hate to be fumbling with beans and grinders
when Armageddon comes.

You see what I mean? That’s the kind of practical wisdom this calendar is full of.

Rejected Comics #1 – Superman is a dick.

This one goes out to Kal.


P.S. This might be the start of a new recurring feature. We’ll see.

P.S.S. I love that I got to tag this post with the keyword “superballs.”

The day I discovered Ninja Sex Party.

Ninja Sex Party

Sometimes the fabric of the universe shifts and folds in such a way that serendipity bestows its wonders upon us, and mere coincidences become life-changing discoveries. Yesterday was such a day for me.

While prepping for my fourth chair guest spot on Nerd Lunch, for which the theme was Ninja Day (I’ll post the link once the episode drops), I was listening to Spotify as I went about my business when an artist called Ninja Sex Party popped up in my stream. I KNOW, I’ve never heard a more awesome name either. The first song I listened to–which became the first of EVERY song, since I made it my immediate “Nerd To-Do” to listen to everything Ninja Sex Party has ever recorded–was “Dinosaur Laser Fight.” From that title alone, I’m sure you can imagine the elation I felt when I discovered the song also has an accompanying video:

Upon further research, I learned Ninja Sex Party is actually a comedy duo whose work has been featured on sites like Funny Or Die and College Humor (thanks Wikipedia), which makes me feel pretty uncool for not having heard of them already. That’s all right, though, because I’m writing about them now, I tweeted about them last night, and I mentioned them on Nerd Lunch (in fact I think my exact words were “Stan Bush meets Tenacious D”), so already I feel slightly more awesome, as if my free publicity is some kind of atonement.

They’re a friendly couple of guys, too.


Now I just need to figure out which one I want to have sex with first.

Look at all the amazing dreams Balki helps make true!

It’s been a while since I checked in with Balki Bartokomous and asked him to help me make one of my dreams come true, but after wrapping up my first guest appearance on the Nerd Lunch podcast (which certainly qualifies) I was feeling particularly triumphant and wanted to do something to celebrate. The Perfect Strangers game was the first thing that came to mind. Also flying. And collecting stars. Preferably collecting stars while flying.

Since I’ve already achieved my dream–well, multiple dreams really, if we’re counting my scoring a box of Cap’n Crunch’s fabled Christmas Crunch cereal at the grocery store this past weekend–I decided to keep things casual and enter in a silly dream I made up on the spot:

(Not really.)

Evidently to “fart” is not an acceptable dream, so I had to make mine a little more ambitious:

(Seriously. This is not my real dream.)

There we go. I went on to earn a respectable 72%. Not my highest score, but enough for Balki to make my dream come true. But whatever, that’s not why I play this game. The real fun is seeing The Dream Board that puts everyone’s hilarious/terrible dreams on display for all the world to see.

The Dream Board

My favorites from this batch include “eat poop”, “murder Justin Bieber”, and the clear winner, “get 50 amazingly hot porn stars pregnant.” That guy was obviously dreaming big. I’m still a little unclear on how exactly one fucks a pizza, though. Also, I think some people got confused and interpreted “dream” for “things you want to eat right now.”

One horseshoe to rule them all.

Because one does not simply walk into Mare-dor, here’s Lord of the Rings re-enacted by ponies:

Lately MLP:FiM has become my go-to Saturday morning cartoon to watch before Nick’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at 11. Spending an hour in the magical, pastel-colored world of Equestria takes the edge off a crappy week and helps me ease into the weekend. I’m still anxiously waiting for that Fighting is Magic game to happen so I can button-mash my aggression away, pony-style.

[via Robot Mutant]

The Pink Starburst Conspiracy Theory

This year I ever-so-carefully prioritized my stash of Halloween candy such that trick-or-treaters received candy in the order of my least to most favorite, leaving me with a plentiful supply of leftover Candy That I Actually Enjoy Eating. The downside of that brilliant plan, however, is that I’m ashamed to admit over the past few days I’ve eaten through an entire bag of Starburst.

Go ahead and judge me. But at least I learned something valuable from the experience, albeit something dark and sinister. I learned there is a massive PINK STARBURST CONSPIRACY afoot.

Pink Starbursts

Look, we all know Pink Starbursts are the bomb diggity and the reason we buy Starbursts (unless you’re one of those communist Red Starburst people, in which case, you’re going to have to work a little harder at earning my trust) but after tearing through an entire bag of Starburst only to get about a 10% return on my investment, this latest experience has left a bad taste in my mouth. Well, actually it left a delicious, slightly sour fruity taste in my mouth, but shut up, you know what I mean.

According to this fellow Pink-Starburst-loving guy who actually called the Starburst Candy Helpline (side note: Holy shit there’s actually something called the Starburst Candy Helpline??), Starburst claims you have an even 25% chance of unwrapping each of its four flavors. Well I call bullshit.

Do you see this photo? DO YOU SEE IT? Out of an entire 10.58 ounce “Fun Size” bag, I got a measly five Pink Starbursts. FIVE! This shit is unacceptable.

Pink Starburst Overdose

Do you know how it feels to be strung out on fruit chews, tearing your way through pack after worthless pack of Reds, Oranges, and Yellows (and the dreaded Double Yellow combination) praying for a glimpse of that flirty pink wrapper? For a glimpse OF HOPE? If you’re really lucky you’ll find not one but two of those little pink squares in your Fun Size pack. There is no greater feeling of victory.

And while I’m on the subject, let’s talk about Pink Starburst’s flavor and how it tastes NOTHING like Strawberry as it purports to be. Seriously, what the hell is that flavor? I’m convinced it was chemically engineered to be an addictive but unidentifiable combination of tropical fruit flavors that seduce your tongue like a succubus, each bite unleashing a dribble of melony-sweet juices that tease and tease and tease but never satisfy. The world’s scientists are spending billions of dollars on the Large Hadron Collider in pursuit of the elusive God Particle when I’m pretty sure all they have to do is reverse-engineer a Pink Starburst to find it.

Now the real mystery, my friends, is why Wrigley Company refuses to sell bags of all-Pink Starburst. I’m definitely not the only one who feels they should:
Pink Starburst Petition results

You can’t even buy Pink Starburst in bulk. Look at all the other candies that have wised up and begun to offer individual flavors/colors. An all-Pink Starburst offering is practically a Breast Cancer Awareness marketing campaign waiting to happen. Do you hear me, Wrigley? I’m telling you this is a winning game plan. Please stop torturing us with a product that’s only 25% (if that) delicious. No, the Red, Orange, and Yellow Starbursts aren’t terrible–quite enjoyable, actually–but as far as Pink Starbursts Enthusiasts like myself are concerned, the other colors are mere filler and act as a collective spoiler that turns your Fun Size packs into a wasteful guessing game in which we are forced to buy a whole bag for a lousy handful of Pink.