HOLY SHIT! Patton Oswalt and Felicia Day are cast members in the new MST3K!
So I just popped my Buffy The Vampire Slayer cherry. I had never seen a single episode. I found season five for $2 and figured that no matter how bad it was, Alyson Hannigan was there. I could watch Alyson Hannigan in anything. And it’s only $2, right? Right? NOPE. How the FUCK did this show gain a cult following? I didn’t even make it through the first episode.
UPDATE: Someone told me it gets better if I watch the first four seasons. So all I have to do is watch four more years worth of this shit, then the shit I already own will be “better”?
And A Hell Of A Nice Watch
“Two solid hours of staring at the material to decide to reconvene after the holidays for a fresh look at the layout? They’re selling cosmetics, not curing cancer.”
The Art Of The Brick
Way back in 2015, my cousin Jerry and I took a trip to Union Terminal to check out Nathan Sawaya’s “The Art Of The Brick.” Come on in and get your brick on!Continue reading “The Art Of The Brick”
TALES FROM NEWPORT!
Tonight’s Episode: “Fuck. This. Place.”
deutschbag (dɔɪch’ bæg) n.: male patrons of the American Hofbräuhaus locations who behave as if they are partaking in cherished and manly German traditions which women find attractive, but are, in actuality, customers of cleverly disguised sports bars for geriatrics.
My friend Juergen from Germany writes: “Where can I apply?” Well, Jeurgen, being an actual German, I don’t think you’d make a very good deutschbag. One of the key characteristics of a deutschbag seems to be that they are only pretending to be aware of German customs. I don’t know anything about actual German customs myself, but I’m positive there aren’t many being observed amongst the deadeyed patrons and chronically depressed staff of Hofbräuhaus Newport. In fact, almost everyone seems to spend their time there looking for a waitress so they can actually have a beer, and whining about whatever sport of the week is playing on the two enormous fucking televisions they’ve installed. I can’t remember the last time I got my food while it was still hot, and even the poor bastard they’ve got playing an accordion on stage looks like he’s ready to put a gun in his mouth. As a real German person, I think you would find Saturday nights at Hofbräuhaus Newport to be pretty goddamned depressing.
I know I vowed never to return to this shithole. And I meant it. But in the spirit of transparency, I’m posting that I broke that oath. My seventy-something year old uncle looked at me with enthusiasm and asked if I’d go for his birthday. I didn’t have the heart to let him down, so I said yes. Immediately upon pulling in, the very sight of the completely useless and superfluous parking lot attendant reminded me of what a shit magnet this place has become.
UPDATE: I just had a hamburger and French fries. With a huge side of disappointment. Don’t be jealous. I know we didn’t nuke the Germans in WWII, but if there was ever a justification for it, it would be my last five dining experiences here. But, in truth, I can’t blame Germany. There’s nothing German about this place anymore. It’s just a shitty sports bar with sauerkraut.
This has been another chilling episode of…
If you’re like me, and you have a family member who will not shut the fuck up about MMA and Ronda goddamned Rousey, I present to you my latest improvement to the English language: Holly Holm.
Holly Holm (hŏl′ē hōm) v.: to achieve a swift, unexpected, decisive victory over an opponent who is generally considered unbeatable, resulting in the dual effects of dismantling, in part or in whole, the defeated party’s mystique, and eliciting feelings of spiteful satisfaction from those who have been overexposed to the glorifications of the defeated party’s admirers.
Nous sommes tous Américains
After the September 11th terrorist attacks on America, the major French newspaper Le Monde ran the front page headline “Nous sommes tous Américains,” which translates to “We are all Americans.” And their country, which is in every measurable way much less rich and powerful than ours, nevertheless stood by us in support with offerings of aid and assistance. Let that sink in. A country with nowhere near our resources nor wealth saw us hurting and opened their hearts and wallets and said, “How can we help?” And now they have suffered what my admittedly scant research tells me is probably the most deadly terrorist attack on French soil since WWII.
Over the next few days, instead of offering only prayers and well wishes, find a charitable organization helping victims of these French terrorists attacks, research it to make sure it’s absolutely legit (so you don’t end up giving to cocksucking scumbags like the Scientologists who ran “donation” recruitment scams at Ground Zero in NYC), then give a little. Don’t go crazy. Don’t overextended yourself. Just give what you can, if you can. A little will help more than you think. And if you’re the kind of person who asks why we should help them when we have needy people here at home, the answer is simple: Nous sommes tous Américains.
Am I the only one who knows shitty veterans? Reading all these posts, it appears I am. I’m not even joking, I have known some real pieces of human trash who have been through the American military system. That’s why I find it impossible to send out a blanket statement thanking all veterans as heroes. Because they’re all not. And thanking them all equally is massively disrespectful to the ones who actually deserve our gratitude. I’m absolutely positive that most veterans are like most people: decent folks just trying to get by, who do their jobs as best they can under the circumstances. And I’ve got nothing but love for them. But not all veterans are heroes.
Don’t believe me? Ask a veteran. I promise you, they will confirm they know at least one goldbricking shitpile they detested during their service. If all veterans were heroes, the following things wouldn’t exist: military police, the uniform code of military justice, and dishonorable discharges. Benedict Arnold? Veteran. Adolf Hitler? Veteran. L. Ron Hubbard? Veteran. Lee Harvey Oswald? Veteran. David “Son Of Sam” Berkowitz? Veteran. Jeffrey fucking Dahmer? Veteran. Not to mention the ones I know personally. So cut the shit. Do something meaningful on Veterans Day. Thank a veteran who deserves it, personally, with spoken words, as you look them in the eye. And mean it. Because all your saccharine Facebook gushing is masturbation: you might be making yourself feel good, but the rest of us really don’t need to see it.