Friday, June 29, 2012

Olivia Munn Nude Scene

Today's post was brought to you by Google Analytics.  Google Analytics: When You Aren't Depressed Enough by Your Web Presence! (tm)

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Triangle and Circle on Vacation!

Today's hilarious, quickly made comic strip, re-enacts my flight experience from yesterday.

Tomorrow: more incredibly quick blog posts written in the three minutes of free time I have while I'm on vacation!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Introducing Triangle and Circle!

I'm going to be away for a while and, since I don't want to disappoint all both my readers, I have decided to focus on posts I can finish in the few moments I have free here and there.  So, without further ado...

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Fandango Sucks

My apologies to my more sensitive readers for the title of today’s post.  I know how much you eschew bad language, and I avoid swearing at all costs.  However, Fandango sucks ass.  Fandango is and always will be a giant pile of donkey shit and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fucking moron.

Allow me to explain my less-than-erudite statement, above.  I have detested Fandago from the moment I first heard about it.  I think I can be forgiven for judging the proverbial book by the proverbial shitty cover because I was introduced to Fandango through their ads.  Little did I know that this shitty cover was followed by a shit prologue and a bunch of shit chapters.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Harry Potter vs. Percy Jackson

My children have ben listening to the book on CD of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.  There was some confusion over what the differences between this novel and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (or Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, if you're a loser who doesn't know what the philosopher's stone is).  I compiled a handy chart.

Character name
Harry Potter
Percy Jackson
Thing they’re searching for
Philosopher’s Stone
Lightning Thief
Parent(s) thought killed in a
Car accident
Boat accident
Parent(s) secretly was/were
God of the sea
Adopted by
Mean relatives
Mean stepfather
Goes to an
Unpleasant school
Unpleasant boarding school
Bullied by
Cousin’s friends
Finds out he’s a
Goes to a
Magic school
Magic summer camp
Best friend #1
Smart girl
Smart girl
Best friend #2
Bumbling boy
Bumbling goat boy
Magic item #1
Invisibility cloak
Invisibility hat
Magic item #2
Flying broom
Flying shoes
To save world, must pass
Three-headed dog
Three-headed dog
Bad guy’s patsy
Nice, innocent teacher
Nice, innocent kid
Bad guy
Bad Guy’s power
Mind control
Mind control
Bad Guy dismembered for
In the end, main character
Scares cousin
Murders stepfather
Crappy film version by
Chris Columbus
Chris Columbus

See, the're completely different books except for, you know, the part between the covers.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Communist Pigs at Happy Hollow

I was at the Happy Hollow Park and Zoo's "Feasts with the Beasts" event last night. The guys who provide animals to Jack Hannah and others were there promoting Happy Hollow's conservation efforts."Seriously?" I thought.  "That tiny petting zoo is a conservation effort?"
After his talk, the head guy was walking around with a small monkey on his shirt.  Following my child, I stepped in his path, and he looked at me with a "Would you like to ask me about the monkey who's been peeing on me for the last hour?" look on his face.
"Sorry," I said, pointing to the bronze statue my son was playing with.  "We just wanted to look at the Communist pigs."

Thursday, June 21, 2012

The Trite Translator

If, like me, you find trite, uplifting expressions ("Everything will work out for the best!" or "The rich are job creators!" or "God is in Heaven and all is right with the world!")  irritating, you'll love my new invention.  The TriteTranslator(tm) is a handy new tool for those of us who are cheerfulness-impaired(tm).  How does it work?  I'm glad I pretended you asked.  See, you just put the stupid, cheerful expression in this end...
And a new version (one reflects the writer's true sense of mind) comes out the other end...

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Bad Children's Book Reviews: The Story About Ping

Note: Bad Children's Book Reviews is a recurring piece I do about classic books for children that, in modern context, are mortifyingly bad.  Well, okay, not always classic books.  Some books for kids just suck.

When I was young, I had a copy of The Story About Ping, and I loved it.  I liked birds, and I liked the cute story about the fuzzy, yellow duckling.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012


If you know what's going on in this picture (all of it, not just the easy part), then you had a solid, classical education.  If you know what's going on in this picture, suggest a title.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Alien Invasion

In an early afternoon, a spaceship dropped from the sky and landed on the fifty yard line on the 49ers stadium in San Francisco. The ship was invisible to humans (except for Glen Coffee, who immediately retired from football), and so the 49ers kept playing, running headlong into the invisible ship and collapsing with concussions.  Most of the spectators thought the 49ers were playing better than they normally did.

During the halftime show, a black door opened in the side of the ship and four, grotesque aliens stepped out.  They were squat, bipedal, and entirely covered in skin-tight suits except for their giant ears and small, piggy eyes.  On top of each of their heads, sprouted an antenna.  If you asked them why they had antennas, they would explain that they helped them tune their prodigious psychic powers.

And then they’d kill you.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Uhura's Sexy Legs

There's something that's been bothering me for a while about the new Star Trek franchise.  No, it's not that the movie said a supernova would destroy the galaxy.  No, it's not that Kirk took command of the Enterprise because nobody else wanted to do it.  It's not that the movie has another nonsensical time-travel plot. 
It's the skirt.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Name's Mogh. Worf Son of Mogh.

Quick quiz, which Star Trek character is the worst to fall in love with? Kirk, because he finds a new woman every other episode?
Riker, because he's required to have sex for diplomacy?
Janeway, because of her creepy, creepy voice?
 No.  The correct answer is Worf.  Worf is the worst Star Trek character to be in a relationship with.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

The Secret of Vulcan Fury

In spite of my posting sorta nude pictures of kinda famous celebrities, the popularity of my site has dwindled.  Since I can’t bump my traffic up through more legitimate methods (How about lesbian furry porn?  Transgendered chess tournaments?), I am forced to lower myself to the most disgusting, base, form of blogging.

I’m going to write about Star Trek.

I’m going to write about Star Trek video games.

I’m going to write about cancelled Star Trek video games.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Photo Dump

I take random photographs of things I think are cool or amusing.  Here's a sample.

The last hole at a local minigolf place.  That's a cannon pointed right at your head.  If you get the ball in on one shot, you win a free game, and the CANNON KILLS YOU.

My four-year-old set this up and aimed the camera.  I just pushed the button.  I think it turned out very well.

A restaurant was having a leaky ceiling and put these buckets down with rags in them.  What kind of face do you see?

Where Wolverine sends his kids to play.

A store in the mall that specializes in replacement scrotums made in Germany.

Getting my hair bleached for my birthday.  My hairdresser was a little concerned.

Bad picture, but they're still making Spiderman ATVs and motorcycles.  WHY would SPIDERMAN need a MOTORCYCLE?!?!?!

"I would love to learn to read English.  If only I could read that sign to tell me where..."

My friend Shannon Wilson has a party planning business.  She did these treats for kids at her daughter's party.  I'm a macho guy and even I found them charming.  Go figure.

I found three typos.  How many can you find?

Haunted house.  BWAHAHAAHA!

Monday, June 11, 2012

Magic Marker

The show was a flop.  The crowd was too young for my material, so I tried different jokes that didn’t land.  I screwed up the disappearing silk trick by dropping my plastic thumb.  One of the kids pointed out I hid a lemon in my pocket during the cups and balls trick.  Three of children cried when I lit the flash paper.  Worst of all: no tip.

No tip meant I’d be late on my rent again.  No tip meant I’d have to find a third job.  No tip meant disapproving stares from my parents at dinner.

I was still wearing the top-hat and cape (the agency requires you keep them on until out of sight of the venue) and was loading my kit back into the van when my cape caught in the door and tore.  I screamed and kicked the nearest tire until my foot hurt.  It was unprofessional and, sadly, unsatisfying.

When I turned around, I realized I was being watched by a small boy with brown hair and large brown eyes.

Friday, June 8, 2012

I Expect Little From My Children

INT. Large Auditorium – DAY

HOST, a tall man in his early fifties who wears a suit and rubber gloves, stands next to GABE, an overweight man with a thick beard and a baseball cap that reads “MARTIAN RAIDERS FOOTBALL.”  Between them is a small, red book on a stand.

Welcome Back to Antiques Roadshow 2112.  We’re talking to Gabe who has brought us this ancient sketchbook.  Tell me, Gabe, how did this book come into your possession?

Thursday, June 7, 2012

In Memory of Ray Bradbury

The writer sat, hunched over his typewriter, clacking away so fast and hard that his fingers went numb, but he couldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop until The End.

In the story, the Vagrant held the rock and crashed it down on the head of his would-be killer over and over again.  Then, realizing the futility of his act, he turned and ran for the nearby city.  He ran, knowing he was only forestalling the inevitable.  Someday, brightly-painted hands would close around his throat.

The writer smiled and, taking a deep breath, wrote two, final words:


“Shit,” he said; he hated typos.

The problem with fixing mistakes on a typewriter was it was time-consuming.  You had to get a piece of correction tape, slide it between the hammers and the paper, back the typewriter up to the mistake, retype the mistake through the correction paper, and then type the correct letter over it.

Still, he thought as he pulled the correction tape out of a desk drawer, I love the sound of the typewriter.

As he slid the correction tape into the typewriter, he looked at the typo.


The writer started.  He was sure he had made a mistake, but there was the correct spelling, as clear as day.  For a moment, he thought he might have already fixed the mistake, but there was no faint “F” on the page under the “D.”  His mistake had magically disappeared.

He felt a chill go up his back and goose bumps formed on his arms.

“I fixed it for you,” said a thin voice behind him.

The writer froze.

“Who are you?” the writer said, too afraid to turn around.

“I don’t have a title that would easily fit into your conception of reality.  You can think of me as Death or Fate or God, if it helps.  Perhaps you should call me Choice.”

“What choice is that?” the writer said, still refusing to turn around.

“Your choice.  Every great artist has two possible paths after they have finished their greatest work.  Either they die and everyone mourns their loss, or they live long, sad, lives, never quite reclaiming their earlier glory.

“I have come to honor you on the eve of your greatest accomplishment to let you choose which path you prefer.  Your novel is brilliant and will be celebrated for generations.  Would you like to end your life now, calmly, peacefully, and be celebrated?  Or would you prefer to live maybe another sixty years, a shadow of whom you once were?”

The writer looked down at the page in the typewriter.  He slowly rolled it out and placed it face-down on the stack that was the rest of the novel on his desk and flipped it over.  He stared at the cover page he had typed nearly a year ago.
The Illustrated Man
Ray Bradbury

He knew all he had to do was turn around and look this Choice in the face, and it would all be over.  He knew his novel would somehow make it to the publisher and be an instant success.  He knew the book would be enjoyed by millions and he would join the great writers: Shakespeare, Shaw, Tolstoy, Homer.  He knew if he didn’t, he would never quite regain the success he would soon enjoy.

But he just loved writing so much.  How could he stop?

Ray refused to turn around.

“Thank you for letting me choose,” he said, “but I’ll keep writing.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll surprise you with my next novel.”

“Very well, Mr. Bradbury.  I’ll see you again in a few decades,” the voice said, and Ray felt its presence wane, the warmth return to his skin.

“By the way,” Choice said, barely a whisper in the distance, “I loved the part about the Martian and the movie director.”

And it was gone.


"Do what you love and love what you do."

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Jennifer Lawrence Topless*

There has been a development over the last few weeks.  No, not the star of the Hunger Games appearing topless in shocking, never-before seen photographs.  It's my traffic report.  For the last few weeks, I've gotten over 100 hits per day on days when I post (ie. not weekends).  It took me a while to figure out what caused the jump.  Was it my hard-hitting expose on John Romero and Brenda Brathwaite getting married (400 hits)?  Was it my week-long birthday celebration (about 50 each)?

No.  It was that post about that naked chick, wasn't it? (1000 hits.  Seriously.)

So, in order to keep building my "fan base" of pathetic losers who scour the web for naked pictures of minor celebrities, I present to you the star of the Hunger Games movie without her shirt on*.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Election Day 2012

I feel it's important for everyone in the country to educate themselves on the issues and candidates and then vote on them.  I'm not so good on educating myself, and I'm skewed liberal, but I still vote in every election. 

Monday, June 4, 2012

Anti-Safety Movement

I've always been vocal about how much I hate the anti-intellectual movement in America.  Ever since George Bush (the one who armed Saddam Hussein, not the one who ordered him to disarm) demonized the "intellectual elite" and used it as a political rallying cry, our country has turned against people who have the temerity to study and think.  This movement has changed a lot in the last few decades, even spawning liberal versions of itself (organic food, herbal/natural remedies, anti-vaxers, blue-dog Democrats, etc.).

Friday, June 1, 2012

"Ain't No Homos" Song - FULL LYRICS

I'm sure, like me, you were completely charmed by the above clip on YouTube.  It's heartening to see youngsters reading the Bible in all its original glory.  Most of the Biblical material kids get these days has been "Bowdlerized" to make it more palatable to a liberal audience.