Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Just because.



Happy Chrismakwanzakuh, guys!

Love,

Gretta+Rob

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Hey, you girls!

I'm doing a story about general female cattiness; you know, jealousy, gossip, competition in the workplace, fights over boys, etc., etc. I would like to know YOUR thoughts on the matter. Any experiences you'd be willing to share (just with me—I'd get your permission before I printed it, I promise!) or personal pearls of wisdom would be enlightening and probably hilarious. ;)



And if you have any ideas to solve this global threat, or at least help alleviate it, I want to hear those, too!

Either send me an email (gretta.parkinson@gmail.com) or post it in the comments. Even if you don't know me! And forward it to your friends, too, if you would. I'm dying to know what you think.

Thanks, ladies!

G

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

You suck, Donald.

In an effort to get that sugary, magical, just this side of uncomfortably warm and sweaty Christmas feeling—the one that rushed in like a monsoon when I was younger and the getting of which has become exponentially more difficult as the advancing years bring me closer to abject poverty—I've been scouring the Internets and Youtube for the cinematic yuletide staples of my youth. Surprisingly guilty indulgences including (but, of course, not limited to): Used to Seem Longer Mickey's Christmas Carol; Disney's "Wow, my mother was patient" Very Merry Christmas Sing-a-long; Pee-Wee's 1988 Christmas Special featuring Skinny Oprah and Grace Jones of the Horrifying Androgyny; and Creepy, Stop-motion Rudolph and the Subtly Homosexual Misfits.


But nothing that I've seen is as awesome and awful (awesfome?) as this old Donald Duck Cartoon.




We all knew Donald was a lousy bastard. It's kind of his thing. But this cartoon makes him look like a total A-hole. Chucking ice missiles at your nephews is kind of a dick move. It makes their retaliation with flaming coal arrows seem almost justified. Also I like the weird captions that start around the 2:00 mark. I can't tell if they're German, or if it's just the phonetic translation of what the speech-impaired ducks are actually trying to say.

My point is, I'm troubled by the cruel nature of the entertainment that used to fill me with holiday cheer. Does it say something about the kind of child I was? Yes. Probably something bad.



Tuesday, December 9, 2008

soviet scientific history lessons, with a kicka$$ soundtrack

this is a new music video that i think is quite informative, as it is set to an old Soviet science reel-to-reel, and freshly released from the recently opened files of the long-secret KGB vaults. ENJOY!!



i'm sorry ladies, and ....well, no gentlemen I know read vampire-abstinence-porn... ladies, but THIS right here is what happens when you play with reanimated life forms; be they vampires, zombies, or curdled milk that doesn't smell "that bad". when the laws of God and nature are adulterated there ensues chaos, fear, death, and evil. no cutesey love stories about celibate hell-spawn. ...as if any century-old teenager with super-human senses and strength is "waiting 'til marriage". hahahaHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAWHAHAHAHMWAHWEHARSERHASLDKJFHALKSDJH
sorry... got a little carried away there.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving.



It kind of makes the whole thing seem totally indecent, right? Indecent and hilarious. Just how I like it.

And in other news, I'm glad I don't cook. ;)

Rob looks like this right now.

It's a mustache competition. So really, you're just supposed to grow a mustache and call it a day. But my baby don't do nothin half-assed! Ain't that right, baby!? So, this Thanksgiving, I'd like to express my gratitude for my incredibly dedicated husband, who always goes the extra mile...then another mile, backwards and upside-down for good measure, and finally punctuates it with a swift kick in the nuts. And yes, as a matter of fact, those are steel-toed boots he's wearing.


For some reason, he wasn't too keen on having his picture taken just then.
I'm sure we'll have more impressive photo documentation at some point.


A transformation like this is, of course, a process.



and...



You look great, Rob. Really raised the bar for those "too cool to look awful" Hollywood hipsters. And I think you're right. The only way Tony can beat you this year is with a Hitler 'stache.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Just for fun.



The last time I thought something was this funny was when I saw a birthday card that said, "When you don't hear the bats, that's when the bats are coming." So, obviously, you can't take me too seriously.

Also, does anyone else remember when this was new? Crap. How old are we getting?

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

battle of the bonds. jameses bonds.



now, having said that... my boss went to a private screening of Quantum of Solace last night and had this to say this morning. and i quote,
"made me want to be james bond. i was all pumped after it."

ahhhh... the dreams of innocent 30-something male youth...

Friday, November 7, 2008

i don't know how to type the sound Homer makes when he's confronted with a donut... but if i did, i would type it here


i don't claim to eat healthy. but even THIS exceeds the delicious, heart-stopping goodness of my extra-cream-and-butter-and-little-bits-of-sausage mashed potatoes. in fact, i'm fairly disappointed that i didn't come up with it.

i present to you the double grilled cheese sammiches, stuffed with a hamburger in between. a.k.a. heavenly goodness.



the only thing that could make this better is if you added some bacon. or pastrami. or.... i have an idea!!

--check out some more great hangumbper ideas--


Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Election Day!!!

Watch this. It's important.

See more Natalie Portman videos at Funny or Die

Also this one. You're going to want to see this.



Oh, Joe Biden. Your such a likable liability. Like my dad. God love ya!


And don't forget to get your free Krispy Kremes, Starbucks, Ben & Jerry's and a whole bunch of other stuff you can find here.




Friday, October 31, 2008

Remember the true meaning of Halloween?

In The Know: Has Halloween Become Overcommercialized?


Happy Halloween, everyone. You go enjoy yourselves. I'm gonna go get a haircut.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Ooooh! Busted!



Seriously? So glad I'm not having a baby right now. He hides it well, but I know Rob is dying to name our kid November Raine McSucker Punch. You watch.

um... you had BETTER be making a brown, soupy mess in whatever-you-wear-under-there

i love movies.

do you know WHY i love movies? 'cause i can live a whole life, vicariously, in the space of 2 hrs (give or take) and learn lessons, love, lose, etc., and then come back to the real world where things are relatively safe (and usually more boring). i even love ridiculous movies because it's great to suspend belief and watch good conquer evil. but today i learned that we are doomed.


yeah. that's right! cyber-f***ing-DYNE. the same corporation that will cause THIS because of THESE THINGS. this isn't playtime anymore! this is a real corporation making real f***ing robots! so maybe james cameron didn't get the time-table right, but it looks like the japanese could be the brilliant minds who actually make robots that are smarter than us and eventually come to fear humanity's arrogance, neurosis and instincts of self-preservation.

i guess it could be considered payback.


Monday, October 27, 2008

i will NOT accept responsibility!

so, some left-wing nutjob commie bastard decided it'd be funny to make the world hate me. and that's not cool. that's just not cool.



but i do support strategic goatherd strikes!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Teenage Mormon Abstinence Porn!

Guess what has two thumbs and is interviewing one of the Twilight cast members tomorrow?

That's right...this girl!

Imagine me pointing to me with my thumbs. Like this guy, only me.



I'm trying to have the same kind of excitement for this opportunity that my friends would (I'm looking at you, Gina). The only difference is, I know NOTHING about these books. Nothing except that whoever this vampire dreamboat guy is, he's making everyone's husbands/boyfriends look bad. Just reading the summaries and watching the trailers has got me saying, "Now, why can't Rob stop a speeding SUV with nothing but his outstretched hand? What does it take to find a real man in this place?"

Thursday, October 9, 2008

GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLL!!!!!

Things have been so damned heavy lately. And I apologize. But today I found happiness again.
I love my latino brothers and sisters, 'cause they gave me nachos and burritos and stuff. And now I have even more reason to love and celebrate them.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Lucy y Javier!!



Friday, October 3, 2008

A short list of words and phrases I never want to hear again:

Maverick, lipstick, pig, pitbull, hockey, mom, proposition (followed by a number), Wall Street, Main street, moose, partisan, bailout, sexism, gotcha journalism, drill baby drill, one heartbeat away, Fannie, Freddie, Charlie, mortgage, Joe Six-pack, elite media, thanks but no thanks, Russia, Trig, Track, barracuda, crisis, recession, depression, billion, dollars, pork-barrel spending, race card, gender card, Hillary Clinton, lesser of two evils...

Election.

Only 32 more days, guys. We can do it.


Nukular Help from William Safire

For Marge, Homer and Gov. Sarah Palin

The way to straighten out your mental dictionary, if you have this ''nukular'' problem, is to train your brain to think of the word not as three syllables but as two words: new and clear. Or you can wait until they bring back atomic.

And in case you don't remember:

Marge: Next to Spring and Winter, Fall is my absolute favorite season. Just look at all this beautiful foilage.
Lisa: It's not "foilage," mom, it's "foliage." Foo-liage.
Marge: That's what I said, foilage. It doesn't take a nucular scientist to pronounce foilage.
Lisa: [growls]

and, my personal favorite:

Capt. Tenille: Simpson, as you have experience in a nuclear power plant, you can serve on a submarine.
Homer: It's pronounced 'nucular'. Nucular.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

I only like facts when they're straight.

First of all, I have to apologize for getting all learn-ish and read-ful up in here (those are code words for 'boring'). As I've said before, this blog is for ridiculousness and should, therefore, not be taken seriously under any circumstances. But I found this here document on the interweb and found it interesting and helpful. Also, boring.

If you're a California voter—or if you live in Utah but try to act like you live in California...you know who you are—go ahead and read this. Warning: it's about Prop 8. Regardless of how we feel about the subject, knowing some of these info mcnuggets will help us sound not so much like A-holes when we talk about it. I've been told it's good to be informed. I've also been told it's good to have mind-boggling amounts of gold locked away in a concrete money bin, but you can't have everything, so maybe you should just not be so selfish. Seriously.


Update: The link should work now. Sorry about that, Katiebug. ;)

Sunday, September 28, 2008

elite media jerks!! [updated link]


i couldn't believe how mean that Katie Couric was being to Village Council Chairwoman Sarah Palin. i was all, like, "back off her, harpy!" i mean, seriously! lay off!! she doesn't have to answer to you. who do you think you are?! that Sarah's an independent woman!

...but then at the end i figured out it was all a ruse, and that everything's okay.





God, bless America. ...but if we're stupid enough to elect this ticket into the executive branch, just go ahead and let Russia, China, S. Korea, Iran and Venezuela nuke us to oblivion, 'cause we're too stupid to deserve it anymore.


Friday, September 19, 2008

Friday Flummery

Reason number 37 that I want to move to England.

Face-Pulling Competition


It's called gurning. And it's fantastic.


Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Wham!

This was too funny for me to ignore:



Found it here.

Also, check out the science fair pics. Bravo, Dr. Monster! And God bless you!

Bad Aunt Gretta.

If you have children of reading age and they tend to be the nosy, peek-over-your-shoulder types—or even if they're sitting several feet behind you but maybe they have super hero vision—you're going to want to make them leave.

Are they gone?

OK.

I'm going to tell you something. I'm not proud of it. But it's one of those things that, if it hadn't been me, I'd be telling everyone because it's kind of hilarious once you get over the initial heart-breaking-ness of it all. So it's only fair.

Last weekend, I told my nephew there was no such thing as Santa Claus.

Not in so many words, of course. It wasn't
that bad. But I definitely didn't have the foresight or decency to pull him aside and murder his childhood privately and quietly. I just blurted it out:

"So when I found out about Santa, I said 'OK, so Santa's not real...what about Jesus?'" *



Several minutes after Cliff and my dad had already snatched that dream-crushing baton and started sprinting with it, my sister-in-law leaned over to me and said, "Aidan doesn't know that, yet...well...I guess he does now."

It was only my second strike. I'd already made the mistake of mentioning the fact that Rob bought me a sweater one Sunday when we were in Carlsbad, which prompted a hurried discussion of oxen and mires. But I guess things with kids are more like BASE jumping than baseball. You really only get one shot to get it right. And I blew it. Splat! Me, in pieces on the ground. Big, stupid, bloody chunks of child fantasy-killer.

We all realized the horror of my words at the same time, so no one could save me from myself. More unfortunately, no one could save Aidan from my hateful indulgence in the sad, Santa-less truth.

In an effort to make me feel better, Aidan's mom said, "It's OK, Gretta. I didn't even realize what you said until I looked up and saw the expression on his face."

I guess losing track of your Christian mythology is inevitable when your experience with children is limited to infants and Jewish kids.


*This comment may be addressed in a later post.

UPDATE: Kim (Aidan's mom) told Rob that she and Aidan were watching the Simpsons episode where Homer tries to capture Santa Claus, and she decided to probe a little. She asked him if he would ever try to catch Santa. "No way!" he said. "If I'm not asleep, he won't even come!"

Phew! Thank you, Jeebus. ;)


Saturday, September 13, 2008

You gotta give things a chance...

We saw this video linked up filmdrunk. I said, "Cat vs. Printer? Don't mind if I do!" Rob said, "No way, that's going to be lame." Then we watched it, and Rob laughed so violently that he produced no sound, only tears. Tears of emphatic joy for this surprisingly awesome cat video.



Without the incredible sound effects, this video would be a million times less funny.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

**rendered speechless**

i've sat here for 10 minutes trying to think of something witty and snarky to accompany this post, but... nothing.
just watch. and wait for the Rapture. that's all that can save us from a world of this...


...God help us...



Eat. Pray. Love. Poo. On this book.

This is going to make me unpopular, I know.

I haven't finished it yet. I'm trying to, but it's so difficult. You see, I'm just not...well...I'm just not enjoying the process of...reading it.

I think it's because I'd like to find a story about a path to self-discovery and spiritual enlightenment that I could actually afford to travel. I've been in the market recently for that—a path to self-discovery, I mean. Didn't realize it was such a high-end, luxury item. I can't really afford a personal healing trip around the globe right now. I can't even afford to go to Sonic in Anaheim which, with it's cheesy tater-tots, is a place where I think I could find real happiness.


Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Cliffy's Crusade.

If you find yourself visiting this blog (SIWAS is what I think they'll be calling it in a few months when they're linking to it on college humor because it becomes such a big hit and then I'm making a butt-load of money just from advertisers, and then I learn how to fly and adjust the brightness of the stars like I did in my very strange dream last night) and thinking "pootah pants are great, but what about East African genocide?", you should visit this blog right here and see what my brother has to say about it.


Friday, August 29, 2008

This is the best I can do.

There are times when you're out somewhere probably doing stuff when you see someone—or something—that is so breathtakingly remarkable, so utterly...unique, that you spontaneously burst into tears. Because you don't have your camera.

I would give anything to travel back in time to that ordinary day in Silver Lake (yesterday) armed with my trusty iPhone. While it is indeed a tragedy that I can't show you exactly what I beheld with mine own eyes, I've worked up a humble artistic representation. If you please.

Let me give you some context. 

We live across the street from a reservoir. I run around it. This woman was walking her dog around it. She seemed unimpressive at first glance, but as I got closer I noticed something...extraordinary:



That stuff coming out of her chin? That's hair. Long, gray, curly hair. Coming out. Of her chin.

Before you get all huffy tell me, "maybe she was homeless," you've got to remember. She was walking a dog. And this is Los Angeles. She could have easily traded him for some tweezers. In fact, I bet the salon down the street would have been willing to pluck those suckers out, pro bono.

I hope this image brings almost as much satisfaction and wonderment to your day as it did to mine. Thank you.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Behold!

If you know me, you know I'm a people-hater. That's right. Most people are useless. All they do is crash into my car and make long lines at Disneyland. But today is different. Because today I made the discovery that some fantastic human creature, some brilliant child of God, came up with the single most unbelievably incredible invention in the history of everything, ever.

Behold. Pootah Pants.

Flawless in both form and function, this modern and becoming undergarment employs the gifts of a magical maxipad, one with the mind-boggling ability to neutralize malodorous flatus most foul.

But the question remains, will the Pootah Pants also render your rumbling farts speechless? Can they stop the stench and silence the war cry of your gut-busting mud-butt?

Only time will tell.

In the meantime, please enjoy this artist's representation of the literal pain and crippling humiliation that accompanies human flatulence.




Monday, August 25, 2008

stop, drop [your droors], and r[un around like a suicide bomber whose 'come to Jesus' done come a tad too late]!

**i'd suggest watching this 'sans sound', unless multiple F-bombs are your thing**

http://view.break.com/560709 - Watch more free videos

i thought we all learned how to avoid this scat in kindergarten.

 

The Best of Beijing 2008: A Photo Essay






























































See more here.


Tuesday, August 19, 2008

This is how it's done.















Don't feel bad. I didn't know about this either until last night, but basically, the rules are as follows: when you watch the Olympics, you need a blanket and most importantly, a mask. If you don't have a mask, you don't get to be under the blanket. I learned that the hard way.

Friday, August 15, 2008

I thought we were friends.

Read this article by Robert Lanham today. I learned a few things. First, that I'm not a member of Generation Y as I'd previously assumed, but having been born after 1982, I am a member of a group known as "Millennials" along with everyone who was born after me up until 2002. Which puts me in the same generation as my nine-year-old nephew who's never watched anything on VHS.

Well guess what, Mr. Lanham. You and Wikipedia are about to get in a huge fight, because they say Gen Y ended in 1994. Which, I think, makes way more sense.

But that's not really the point. This is: you guys, this Lanham guy hates our guts. And it's not just him either. It's all the Gen-Xers. They despise us in the workplace, they loathe our music, they can't even stand our online personas.

I always liked Generation X. I thought they were so cool with their flannel shirts and long hair. I even wore a hemp necklace for waay too long because I thought Gen X was so awesome. I listened to Pearl Jam, even though I was much to young to be a fan. And I remember exactly how I felt on the day I found out Kurt Cobain died. Sad for a minute and then I probably went outside and played. But none of that matters. Because now I know how the Gen Xers really feel. The truth is simple and a little sad: they're jealous.

Lanham says we were spoiled; coddled by our baby-boomer parents out of their disdain for Gen-X. The truth is, we were the busiest group of kids, ever. While they might have been able to hang out at their friends houses after school and watch MTV, we were shuffled to soccer practice, piano, choir, karate, scouts, student government meetings and the like. Our parents wanted us to be the best damn kids we could be. And as a result, we got mono and blank spots in our memories that we can only assume were filled with practice sessions and commuting. Not to mention the fact that with all these kids studying and running and drilling their guts out, we created some sort of high school master race where it's become nigh impossible to make that team, get into that college or squeeze into the top 10%. No more of this big fish, little pond business. We flooded the crap out of that pond! Because our parents made us!

I loved you, Generation X. You had great music and movies like Stone Temple Pilots and Clueless. All we had when I was in high school was 10 Things I Hate About You which sucks in absolutely every aspect except the fact that it gave Heath Ledger his breakthrough role. You had grunge. We had Britney Spears and Boy Bands. We had to look really hard to find Sunny Day Real Estate, and you had it there at your fingertips all long. Your favorite bands didn't have to "sell out" to Outback Steakhouse, because people were still buying their albums. And you'll probably claim Garden State, too.

There are 30 million of you, Gen X, which means that when you flooded the workplace, you had a fighting chance. There are 80 million of us, and a lot of us have college degrees. We had to wait tables until we got an internship that lead to another internship that finally lead to the bottom of the totem pole somewhere. And then we got laid off. You don't have to worry about losing your jobs to us. You have the experience. And you're closer to paying off your student loans.

So quit your bitching, Gen X! You don't have it so bad. You have solid jobs—nay—careers! You have savings accounts! And please stop hating us, because we think you're cool. You're the big brothers and sisters we never had...or maybe we had you but you wouldn't talk to us because you were too busy brooding. The Boomers don't really hate you. Maybe you're just paranoid? (Maybe it's all the pot?)

All I'm asking is, can we end this rivalry go back to me thinking you're cool and you thinking it's cool that I think you're cool? Please? I'll even forgive you for letting Brian Austin Green have a career....

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Holy Freaking Crap! Look what I found!!


Will you please just take a minute and look at this? First, you might want to make sure you're alone or you're somewhere where you can laugh or scream or laugh AND scream without disturbing your co-workers or sleeping babies. Don't worry, it's not porn. It's better than porn. Or is it worse than porn? All I know is somebody let the crazies out and now they've taken free reign of the Interweb. Super-funny or super-horrifying? You decide.

Favorite quote:
I am not an extremist ... I just want you to read, explore and think about this topic. The topic is that Barack Hussein Obama may be the Antichrist.

I think, in theory, the democracy thing was a good idea, but I'm not so sure it works in practice anymore, since it turns out that a bunch of Americans are retarded.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Can. Not. Wait.



In my whole entire life, I've never , ever seen anything this completely and undeniably awesome. Is that Oscar buzz I hear?

Dear Academy,

I hesitate to write this letter, because I know that you're just a bunch of self-important Hollywood-type a-holes. Which is the worst kind of a-hole. Which means I hate you guys. But please, for the love of everything that is good in this world, don't screw this one up. RDJ and I are counting on you.

And thanks for coming through for No Country for Old Men. That crap was excellent.

Love,
Alf Alfa


Cracked.com vs. Orson Scott Card

There are two types of writers I like: those who write good stuff, and those who write good stuff that is also funny. Sometimes the funny stuff isn't really that good, per se, but the level of hilarious-ness usually makes up for any lack of skill. In my mind anyway.

That's why it breaks my heart to see Michael Swaim (Cracked blogger and all-around funny dude) take on Orson Scott Card (best selling novelist and award-winning writer). Swaim took issue with this op-ed by Card on mormontimes.com (how he stumbled upon that website remains a mystery to me) and subsequently published this rant, thereby informing the fan-boys and man-boys (and me) who make up the Cracked audience that The Mormon guy who wrote all those books about the innocence of a child winning out over war and hatred wants us to raise arms against any queers who feel like expressing their love legally. Which, as you probably guessed, is not exactly what Card said. But it's close.

Now I'm not going to express my opinion on the subject. That's not what this blog is for. This blog is for discussing things like the dangers of falling victim to one of Beijing's sleeping dragons (how can American Athletes win gold medals if they've been eaten or burned alive?) and such. Or perhaps I'm not going to say how I feel about gay marriage because I'm trying to avoid the judgment that might befall me from either side. Who knows? I don't. You be the judge. No...wait...actually, please don't be the judge.

Sorry about that confusion.

I've learned some things today: First, my people are even less popular than I thought. And second, my vote carries infinitely more weight in my mind than it does anywhere else. Which means I'm going to keep it there until election day when I've—hopefully—figured it out.




Thursday, August 7, 2008

Seriously so ... something.

Quick disclaimer: I love my friends and their blogs and their babies.

Came across this
site today. I can't decide if I hate it because it wasn't my idea and I'm jealous or if I hate it because the spot-on-ness conjures in my mind a whole grip of things that annoy me.

And, yes. Happily ever after looks like stick figures.


I would argue that this blog doesn't qualify as satire because it's too painfully similar to what it satirizes. I don't like being reminded of things I wish didn't exist, namely, the people who went to college with me. (J/K, guys! Go Cougs!)

I do, however, I appreciate that there's someone else out there that thinks it's funny to hear people say words like "rilly" and "meer" (really and mirror, respectively...I think).

And it didn't take me too long to realize that the regular readers of this site are very often the ones being lampooned. Either the irony is completely lost on them, or they're just "rilly" good sports.


Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Sorry, China. Not interested.

I've been skeptical of these Beijing Olympics since the beginning. I don't know why. I used to love the Olympics. I even proved that love in 1992 by breaking my arm while demonstrating my original floor routine in the basement. It's just that I'm not exactly comfortable with this China business. That, and we don't have a TV, so I'm trying to get everyone else to be as uninformed and uninterested as I am.

Today, I tripped over my validation:



Dragons, pits and sleeping stone warriors. Need I say more?

Some may call me ignorant, but the information presented in this video is all I need to stay the hell away from China and competitive sporting events.


Monday, August 4, 2008

No thanks, Facebook.

Here's what I know about Facebook: It's what all the cool kids are doing. It's how all my friends from high school know what's going on in each other's lives without actually speaking to one another and then I feel like I'm a really bad friend but then I find out it's just because I don't have an account. And it's why some of my most removed friends communicate with my brother more than I do even though he's in Africa and he's my freaking brother. But that's really all I know about it.

Except that Mark Zuckerberg is not only a lucky bastard, but also kind of a presumptuous a-hole who stole a bunch of ideas and is getting a reputation for being super greedy in addition to being difficult to work with, just like every other Ivy League douche I've ever met.

So, I don't like Facebook. I don't have an account. I don't want an account. Sure, I was involved in MySpace, but I maintain that I was tricked into that. Plus, I had sole control over the pictures that people saw of me. That crap is important. I don't want some third-degree high school friend posting a wonk-eyed picture of me flaring my nostrils during my eye liner stage. No, sir. I demand complete control over my online persona. That's what the World Wide Interweb is for. Here, I can pretend to be as cool, as awesome and as kick-ass as I want. (All the Internet wants in return is my job...and the entire journalsim industry...and any hope I ever had of being an intrepid reporter like Brenda Starr
.) And I don't have to "friend" people to prove it.

These guys get me:


See?  Scrabble wasn't Zuckerberg's idea, either. He stole that one, too. Also, "Scrabulous" is a faggy name.

If this turns out to be an all-out war between us and them I'm with you, Tom from MySpace. You were my first friend, and I'll never forget you for that.


Thursday, July 31, 2008

I Want YOU!

To take two seconds and vote for our friends. They're the shizzle.

They're names are Amelia and Justin Lyon. Don't screw it up.

You may remember them from such things as the best wedding ever, and other fun times.

If you want to be sure, you can check out their site
, but you might as well save precious time and just trust me. Nobody in the whole world takes better pictures. Sorry, photographer friends, but these guys are IT. You keep working and maybe someday you'll be as good. 

If they don't win, I'm gonna go ape-skizzle on this internizzle. For reals.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Best. Show. Ever.

Why didn't anyone tell me this show existed when it was on? I would have sent peanuts or whatever to Fox to keep them from canceling it. I am DYING to know what happened to Lindsay after she ran away with Dead Heads. But mostly I love the geeks. Bill Haverchuck, this one's for you.



These lines from the show make me wish I wrote them:

• Ken: "I always say, girl plus car equals dead animal."
• Nick: "Wow, that dinner smells good. Let me guess...meat?"
• Neal: "I'm Jewish. That's no cakewalk either. Last year, I was elected school treasurer. I didn't even run."
• Kim: "Are you calling me irrational? Because I'll tear your head off, Daniel. I'll tear it off and throw it over that fence."
• Bill: "I don't like jokes. I don't think they are funny."

and my favorite...

• Rosso: "I. Have. Herpes. It doesn't hurt that much, but believe me, you don't want it."
• Lindsay: "Can I please go now?"
• Rosso: "I just blew your mind, didn't I?"

Judd Apatow, I think you're better on television when you can't just rely on penis jokes.
Freaks and Geeks has that signature Apatowian sweetness without all the genitalia.


Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Catching them early.

Those nutty Evangelicals. They start giving kids giant doses of crazy right out of the womb. Makes rapping about Jesus and exorcising demons look positively mainstream. Oh yeah. That's right...I guess it kind of is.

We went to Oceanside last weekend and saw a whole plebian populace of them in an amphitheater by the beach. They were all super pale (not like me, though...not pale in an attractive way) and they wore visors, American flag t-shirts and sweat shorts. Also, they walked super slowly, like one-legged arthritics, and they did it in front of me while I was riding my beach cruiser. I blame them, and not my clumsiness, for those nasty spills.

And when they're not speaking in tongues or telling me I'm going to hell, they're making creepy cartoons about why every other religion will usher you down the wide and crooked road to his satanic majesty, Lucifer H. Beelzebub, Esq.

At least we know that there really never were such things as dinosaurs. Right guys?



Friday, July 25, 2008

Getting down to business.


There are some issues we have to address:

1. Should the Nolans bring the Joker back for another movie?

Here's the thing ... they've retired jerseys for way less impressive performances than Heath Ledger's in The Dark Knight
On the other hand, he is THE Batman villain, right? Like the Joker said, "I think we'll be doing this dance for the rest of our lives," or something like that. You can't just pretend the Joker doesn't exist. Especially after all that crappy stuff he just did with the killing and the blowing things up. You know?
But no one can do the Joker as well as Ledger. Everyone knows that. I've heard tell that Jospeh Gordon-Leavitt might be a good replacement...?

2. Does Batman need to tone it down a bit?

I heard some turd say something about Christian Bale's Batman voice being ridiculous. Well, you know what? THAT GUY'S voice is ridiculous. Batman's got to protect his secret identity! Bruce Wayne is a high-profile figure! People know what his voice sounds like! He HAS to alter his voice. Come ON people. Jeez.

That guy probably likes Superman. If Metropolis hasn't figured out who he is yet, then he should just let them be destroyed. He just has those glasses. They're idiots. They don't deserve to have time turned back for them or whatever.

Plus, as someone recently pointed out to me, Batman wears a bat costume. Not exactly subtle. So, no. He doesn't need to tone it down. Good for you, Batman. You go.

3. Did Rachel Dawes die too soon?

No. No she did not.

4. Does anyone even care about Rachel Dawes?

No. they don't.



5. Does Maggie Gyllenhaal look like a sad cartoon turtle?

Yes. She 
does.


6. Was there any single thing wrong with The Dark Knight?

Just one. Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Thank you, Christopher Nolan.

It was everything we hoped it would be and so much more.















The following is open letter to you, Mr. Nolan, from one of your fans:

Dear Dr. Christopher Nolan,

I should be PISSED that you took Batman to London and made him kick more ass on the silver screen than any yank ever accomplished, but! I find myself filled only with gratitude. Thank you for giving him a nemesis that acutally instills the heebie-jeebies into the hearts of men. I mean, I think you need to give a little more time and creep-the-ever-living-SCAT-out-of-me to the Scarecrow next go-round, but you gave Mr. Ledger the opportunity to create the greatest [read: most maniacal/lovably insane] portrayal since Alan Moore's The Killing Joke

Kudos.

Thanks for making me a kid once again—if only for 2.5 hours...2.5 of the most mesmerizing and torturous hours of my life. I have no fingernails to prove it.

Love,

Mr. Robert LeGrand Whalen

There's more, but it was super long-winded, so we took the opportunity to edit it for space.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

The Bat Cycle















Later, Rob had to change his pants on account of he got pee on them.

No lie.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

My new hero.

Ladies and gentlemen. Prepare your minds to be blown.




This video has totally lit a fire under my ass. Next time you see me, it'll be on youtube shredding up some 80's cover on my acoustic.

Actually, probably not on youtube. I don't like the way my face looks on screens. Also, I can't play the guitar.


Monday, July 14, 2008

Hey! Who Ast You?!

Christian Bale (Batman Begins, The Dark Knight) reprises his most seminal role. That's right. Jack Kelly. From Newsies.




Where is he from? The South Jersey shore of Wales?

Ya kin jes' evaliate yesself... Git out deah an' see it. That wud be wunnaful. Hey, yo! Santa Fe! Carryin' the bannah!!

P.S. I'm so excited to see this film, I may have just peed my pants a little bit.