Thursday, January 31, 2008

Thursday TV Beej: The Office (BBC)

While I, as well as millions of others, thoroughly enjoy the American version of The Office, it was impossible to start watching it without immediately comparing it to its earlier BBC counterpart. Because of growing pains that included doing the first few episode almost verbatim the same as the BBC show, I never really got into the American Office... Over time it became apparent that Steve Carell's Michael became a totally separate character from David Brent, Dwight became a completely different foil than Garrth Keenan ever was. Jim, however, has spent the entirety of the show's run doing a second rate Tim Canterbury impersonation.

I guess the biggest problem I have is that since the American version has become so popular, no one new to the game appreciates the BBC version. People either complain: "I can't understand what anyone is saying", or that "it's too similar to the first American ones", or "I'm a stupid fuck who doesn't appreciate greatness." David Brent is so much more awkward than Michael and about a hundred times funnier because of it. When I first started watching The Office, I felt an embarrassment for his character in the same 'almost need to stop watching' vein that you can get watching Larry David.

Ricky Gervais knows how to keep 'em wanting more, wrapping it up with a touching Christmas special after two seasons that totalled twelve episodes (He recently did the same thing with the equally great series Extras).

In honor of this beej worthy show starring that fat little toad, here are some choice clips(there is so much to choose from this is tough):

Christmas Dinner Joke

The Oggmonster

Free Love on the Free Love Freeway

"If you want the rainbow, you've gotta put up with the rain - do you know which philosopher said that? Dolly Parton. And people say she's just a big pair of tits. "

Oldies but Goodies: Fun Town Auto!

This is a commercial for Fun Town Auto, where they encourage you to come down but gentley remind you that you should bring your check book. (some NSFW Language)

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Wednesday's Unsung Hero of the Week: The Map!

Every episode of Dora the Explorer goes the same way. Dora has something to do, some place to go, someone to see, whatever. She has no idea how to reach said destination. She then begs the audience to say "Map", so that the map can show her the way to achieve her goal of bringing boots his doll or whatever the hell. The Map, excited as ever to help, breaks out into his brilliantly penned theme song, which consists of him saying that he is the map no less than five thousand times. He then presents us with the three legs of Dora's journey. The first two are generally challenges (river, bridge, , trees, crips, jihadists, Spain, dinosaurs, etc) and the last bit is the destination itself. He has provided Dora and Boots with incredible amounts of information, and yet he then quietly slinks back into her backpack... A backpack who, when receiving other items says "Yum yum yum yum yum... delicioso!" Therefor the map is ostensibly eaten each episode after providing Dora with the most important information she could possibly need.

I'm going to interject a little something here. In the more recent episodes I've seen, Dora's parents have shown up a pretty great deal. I guess my question is this... Before Dora sets off to bring some magic frog back to a volcano or whatever, shouldn't one of her parents give her the sort of guidance the map provides? I mean, picture her coming home,

Dora: Ay Mami!
Mrs. Marquez: Hello Dora! Thank goodness you're alright, where have you been?
Dora: Oh mom, we just rescued a turtle from the mouth of a snake that was wrapped around a missile!
Mrs. Marquez: Oh my! However did you find the snake? I thought he was beyond the burning bushes, across the ocean and under the tree of doom?

Dora: Oh, the live children shouted map and the talking map jumped out of my backpack and provided me detailed instructions on how to reach him.
Mrs. Marquez: ...

I guess my point is this: Shouldn't she be getting that kind of important information from her parents, rather than a magic talking map who is then eating by her backpack for his kind deed? This map is a better parent to Dora than any of her actual family has ever been. And to boot, she probably needs some better schooling on top of the lackadaisical parenting already in place. Without fail, each episode, after the map tells her exactly where to go. She will then say "First we need to go to the jungle (or whatever). I don't see the jungle, do you see the jungle?" Guess what jackass, it's like, directly behind your head. Jaysus! Seriously, the map tells you EXACTLY where to go, and you're off to a rocky start every single time because you cant move your head slightly to the right or the left?! Come on!

So here's to the Map. If there's a place you need to go, he's the one you need to know. If there's a place you need to get, he can get you there, I bet. He's the map.

As an added bonus, here is a Dora product that I am certain has to be one of the top 10 greatest children products ever designed.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Amazin' Birthday Gift: Santana to the Mets!

See what I did there with that headline? Get it? Amazin'?

Anyway, my insane lameness aside, reports abound that Johan Santana is going to be a New York Met.

Considering we went from being an after thought, dark horse, long shot, etc etc. in the Santana sweepstakes, as it were, it is completely unbelievable that we actually landed him. Our rotation just got incredibly formidable, and the only real important prospect we gave up was Carlos Gomez.* Pitching prospects turn out to be busts so often it's hard to be too upset about losing Mulvey and Humber.** The fourth prospect I hadn't even heard of, so who cares about him?*** We will now be presenting Johan Santana, Pedro Martinez, John Maine, Oliver Perez, and some combo of Mike Pelfrey or El Duque. If Pedro stays healthy, that has to be one of the best rotation in the NL this side of Arizona.

My brother called me to wish me a happy birthday and then told me the news, I told him cruel jokes do not equal birthday presents and that we were no longer friends. I have since apologized.

Though now that I think of it, I am pretty sure that he was convinced that telling me Santana was coming to the Mets was "a heck of a birthday present" as in, his birthday present, to me. Oh well.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go masturbate furiously thinking about the Mets, and then take a little cat nap.

*I'm sure that statement won't come back to bite me in the ass.
**Fuck you if you thought "Scott Kazmir" as you read that, asshole.
***Will definitely end up a superstar now.

Oldies but Goodies: The Joy of Cooking

Meet Merrill Howard Kalin. *

I have absolutely no idea what the story is behind this video is, really. All I know is that I cry laughing every time I see it. Then I tell Jesus that I'm sorry, and then it's all good in the neighborhood!

*not sure that it's actually the real guy's myspace page.

Why Are Wii's Still Hard to Come By?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I've wanted a Wii since I heard they were making them a couple of years ago. I've also come pretty close to buying one on a number of occasions, and I think I can now say that I am thankful that I have not.

Let me backtrack. I am a lazy man. One of the laziest I know. I have been good at exactly two video games to the best of my memory (Ninja Gaiden and MLB 2005 - both for the xbox). I have played the Wii exactly twice. Both times I was inebriated past the point of being potentially decent at anything, let alone a game that requires hand-eye coordination. I own an xbox that is mod'd and has every nintendo, genesis, and super nintendo game made (as well as a ton of weird porn versions of several games, which is so weird and disturbing I'm going to stop thinking about it now thanks). I have played Super Mario Brothers RPG (for SNES) to completion. I can admit this with a straight, anonymous face. I have beaten Super Mario Brothers 2 - the complete anomaly that wasn't supposed to be a Mario game at all. The one that ended up being a fucking dream!

I have a problem with sporting video games. There is always a create a player mode, and I, without fail, create a player with a 99 overall rating. Then I put him on the Mets/Isles/Jets. His name? Same as my name. Why do I do this? Well, there's bound to be at least one player on any one of those teams I feel alright losing, plus I have an insanely large insecurity issue and serious inferiority complexes working themselves out through monster home runs and 200 goal seasons.

I am bad enough at most video games that I don't bother becoming a competitive asshole while playing them the same way I do when me and my friends do anything competitive.

I thought a Wii might change all these things. I might get exercise and play video games! I can teach my daughter and we can wii bowl together!

I put it off for a long while because of baseball season - which takes up just about every night after work for several months. Why spend that money when it's going to collect dust? Baseball season blends into hockey season blends into football season. This fall I moved and have had a ton to do. It's all been very good in terms of keeping my mind off the Wii I could be playing. But now with the writers' strike, the end of football, and 2 months till pitchers and catchers report; I have no idea what to do with myself. I have seen every episode of every show on the Food Network at least a hundred times, I have rewatched almost every season of every tv show I own on DVD, and I have been exercising. EXERCISING. I no longer know what to do with myself in the evenings.

All that being said, I am glad the wii is still hard to find for whatever reason it is still hard to find. This is because I know that it will absolutely consume me, it will ruin all of my weekends, and it will be useful for a maximum of 2 months, when pitchers and catchers report and I got apeshit berserk bats bonkers for the Mets.

This is all a lie. I want a Wii so badly. I want all the sports games and I want Mario Galaxy and if I don't have one when the new Smash Brothers game comes out I don't know what I'll do with myself. Why are they still so insanely hard to come by? It's been over a year and half (has it? at least a year anyway...). There is still a line outside Nintendo World in Rockefeller Center every gottdamn morning! every morning! I don't understand this shit anymore! Are they made by hand? One at a time by sloths and turtles and other typically slow creatures? FUCK.

Post Script.

Ziller, I know you have one of these at your disposal, so fuck you for laughing at me, which I'm certain you were. Just remember this: I know where you sleep. (in a bed!)

Monday, January 28, 2008

Collecting Things: I Wish I did.

I've always kind of wanted to have some sort of interesting collection of something, but I think in large because I'm incredibly lazy, and also because I have no money, nothing I've ever wanted to collect has ever seemed to take.

Now, I don't mean books or DVDs or things like that - I have a pretty decent collection of both of those things, and that's great - but those are both pretty basic and boring. Do I keep Anna Karenina and Immortality and Infinite Jest on higher shelves than say, The Davinchi Code in the hopes that they'll be noticed by the imaginary guests I have in my home? Of course. But what I'm talking about here is a collection of something a little bit odd, quirky, fun! When people talk about you after your imaginary house party, you don't want them to say "Oh yea, he's alright, he has a lot of books and all the Twin Peaks DVDs and every season of Homicide: Life on the Street...and also alot of Dora and Diego shit". That stuff isn't impressive or memorable. There have been a number of things I've decided I wanted to collect, then promptly gave up on, with a varying number of items to show for it..

Here are some of the things I've wanted to collect:

Bobble heads

More specifically, interesting Mets bobble heads. I have exactly one Mets bobble head, David Wright. His head no longer bobbles, thanks to my daughter breaking it. What I really wanted, was a set of bobble heads consisting of my favorite Mets players from the 2006 season, capping it off with the Endy Chavez bobble catch doll. This collection would have also included Jose Reyes, Jose Valentin and his pink panther mustache, and of course, Paul Lo Duca. I gave up because ... well... I don't really have anything to fill in that space with. I stopped bothering to try for no particular reason other than it require an amount of effort I was not willing to put forth, and an amount of money I was not willing to spend. ( The money part is a total lie - if I was anywhere near that shit I would have bought it up. I have to nip it in the bud or I have no self control. But whatever..)

Rare Items by Favorite Bands

I realize this category is kind of vague, but I want to give you an idea of the extent of how badly my desire burns out. Way back in the day, Dinosaur Jr. released albums under the name Dinosaur. They were eventually sued over the name and to fix the problem, simply tacked on Jr. to the end of the name. Problem solved. However, there were LPs of their records Dinosaur, You're Living All Over Me, and Bug that just said Dinosaur on the cover, instead of Dinosaur Jr. HUGE collectors item! I knew I had to have them. I decided then and there I would be a sort of collector and completest for my favorite bands (in large because I was in love with Lou Barlow) and have this awesome collection of rare stuff to show off and it would totally get me laid. (my sense of logic was pretty flawed back when I was 17). Anyway, I actually went ahead and procured these three LP's, as well as the following rare items by Sunny Day Real Estate: The Thief Steal Me A Peach single and the How it Feels to Be Something On single. I was proud, I was excited. Could this be the interesting collection I've been waiting for? The one that makes me interesting to others and proud of myself? Alas, it was not to be. I think I lent these albums to a friend or something, and have no clue where they might be, not in like 6 years. They might even still be at my parents house somewhere, I really have no idea. This may very well be because drinking got top priority over any collection I may have had during college - records, toys, friends, etc.

Baseball Caps
This one still kind of exists, but its more half assed than anything else, but I have my reasons. I am one of the few people who tries on hat after hat and looks idiotic in every single one. My head is oddly shaped or hats are stupid or whatever the reason, every hat either makes me look like a train conductor or a mentally deficient person who is so dumb he can't even put on a hat that fits his head correctly. As such, whenever I pass by a store that sells baseball hats, I'm always tempted and excited to see if I can find a hat that fits my head nicely. It also means that if I find a hat like that, I'm going to buy that fucker. And I'm going to wear it. Then I'm going to decide three days later that it too, makes my head look stupid and vow never to wear a baseball hat again. Then I'm going to repeat the process until I own every hat ever... As it stands right now, I own over 10 Mets baseball hats, a few Jets baseball hats, and a couple of Islanders baseball hats. I wear maybe 2 and hate the rest with a passion. Every time I walk by a Lids I need to fight every instinct in my body to go into the store. For the time being I'm sticking to one of the maybe five winter hats I own (2 Mets, 2 Jets, 1 plain grey).

The other stuff I was super into wanting to collect is too embarrassing to recount here right now (aka its almost time to leave work), but the list includes: X-Men Action Figures, X-Men Action Figures unopened in their boxes, Star Wars action figures and snow globes. And now I'm off to hang my head in shame.

IMPORTANT EDIT: If I had known Anna Karenina was currently an Oprah Book Club book, I would have said Kierkegaard or something instead.

Oldies But Goodies: Rejected

Rejected is a cartoon short by Don Hertzfeldt released in 2000, and I think the less said about it, the better. Please enjoy.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Gallimaufry Group Effort: How to Spend Your 600$ Rebate

We Gallimaufriers decided to have a little discussion about how best to spend one's 600$ tax rebate. Here are a few of the top ideas:

Oakley Medusa Hat/Goggle Combo: But if you buy the hat, you wont have enough for the goggles, so choose wisely, in terms of just how stupid you want to look.

Liberator Wedge/Ramp Combo: (Link nsfw-ish?) Anyway, you can buy up to three ramp/wedge combos with your rebate check, which means one for the bedroom, one for the living room, and one for the patio/office/shed/garage/alley/car/parents house/nursery/whatever. And remember, with the wedge/ramp combo, sessions last longer than ever and lead to orgasms of greater intensity!

Six Hundred Dollars worth of Pudding: Just to say "fuck you" to Barry and Levon.

Party With Beetlejuice: The site doesn't list any exact pricing arrangements, but even if the six hundy is only going to pay for some of the cost, you know it's going to be well worth it. I think if package A were six hundred it would be well worth it -
2 hour party minimum
Beetlejuice (Being his crazy self)
Big Bull The Dwarf (Dwarf tossing & bowling)
High-Pitch Eric (MC & be his disgusting self) [sic?]

Burger by Exhaust: This item doesn't have a price tag listed, but I imagine 600$ would be enough to buy several, and why not buy several? These would make a great gift! Dinner cooks itself on my drive home from the train station? Yes please, I'll take two!

Vagina Couch: Also without a price tag and has since been flagged and removed from craigslist, this product makes me slightly uncomfortable and more than slightly aroused. I have absolutely nothing else to add about this couch, except that I'm not exactly sure how you're supposed to have sex with it.

More to come. Maybe. Probably not.

Friday Music Beej: (Smog)

(Smog) was the alias of Bill Callahan (he now releases albums as Bill Callahan). He was one the progenitors of lo-fi tape cassette recorder indie rock music, along with Sebadoh, The Mountain Goats, et al. Like most of the other pioneers of the genre, he eventually moved up and on to better recording studios and more polished records, and honestly I think he was all the better for it. Smog's music was always odd and structurally strange, with dark, and often hilarious lyrics as well.

There are many reasons I am envious of Bill Callahan, not the least of which are the former romantic ties between him and Chan Marshall (Cat Power)

and his current romantic ties to Joanna Newsom

In addition to him being a motherfucking pimp, many of his songs sit atop the list of songs I wish I wrote. Some are insanely scathing and bitter and funny. There is a song on his incredible album, Julius Ceasar, called Your Wedding. The lyrics are short, sweet, and awesome. "I remember, entering you. entering you. I'm going to be drunk, so drunk, at your wedding." While not all of his songs are completely bitter about lost love, all of them are clever and dark and because of his baritone voice, something seems deeply sinister about them. Like on Red Apple Falls' Stranger: "and why do you women in this town/let me look at you so bold/when you have seen what i was/in the last town/in the last town/you should have seen what i was/if i was a stranger/i was worse than a stranger/i was well-known"

I go back and forth between what I would call my favorite album of his, since there are maybe four that I think are absolutely incredible. The two previously mentioned, along with Knock Knock and Dongs of Sevotion. While Dongs wins for awesome album title, Knock Knock wins for maybe greatest album cover ever.

And in honor of this beej worthy man, here are a few of his more awesome songs for your enjoyment.

Dress Sexy At My Funeral

Teenage Spaceship

I Break Horses

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Zen and The Art of Hog Teasing

You may have heard of Hogging,(competition with friends at a bar/party/whatever and trying to bang the fattest chick there) which is a great game unless you don't win. Coming in second place is actually more like coming in last place. Hog Teasing is a much more subtle art and can be much more enjoyable to a much larger audience. Hog Teasing involves being at a bar or party, or even just walking down any given street on any given day, and subtly poking fun at a fat girl. This can be made into a competition if so desired - see who can make the fattest girl cry, etc, etc. - or it can just be done for a few belly laughs (though careful when it comes to that belly, tubby - or you're next).

Here are some ideas for you to do some hog teasing.

Approach fat girl at bar, lean against wall and look at her seductively. If/When she turns to say hello, say "ha, just kidding chubbles" (feel free here to exchange "chubbles" for your favorite word to describe a fat person)

Attach a mini-burger to fishing line, dangle in front of Hog, and make that piggy dance!

Take fat girl to salon for backcombing, let Rodrigo do his thang!

Approach Hog's table, ask her if she's going to finish those nachos, before she can answer, tell her you were joking because you know she is going to finish those nachos.

Hit on fat girl, win her confidence. Proceed to tickle hog, and laugh and point out her rolls and back fat.

Chase hog around bar with rope. Subdue and tie her limbs together, rendering her immobile. Make jokes about cupcakes.

Pour the following on the hog: Peach Schnapps, Vodka, Cranberry Juice, Orange Juice, Pineapple juice. Shout "Hey everyone, look! Sex on the beached whale!"

Say hello to hog and her friends. Tell them how nice they are to spend all this quality time with her before they put her on the spit for roasting. Tell them you will see them at the luau, hand them an apple and walk away.

Approach hog and act as though she is a loved one you haven't seen in ages, when she inquires as to why you are reacting as such, tell her you are just so relieved that story about her being shot and killed in Georgia was a hoax.

Please feel free to create your own hog tease, as there really is no wrong way to go about this. Just please, keep it tasteful and be respectful.

shit, now i'm hungry.

Thursday TV Beej: Mr. Show

Mr. Show came around in 1995 seemingly out of nowhere and turned the sketch show upside down. Insanely intricate and well put together, the show flows seamlessly back and forth between filmed skits and bits performed live in front of an audience. Bob Odenkirk and David Cross are both incredible on the show, which was at once offbeat, weird, dark and always hilarious. Cross has obviously gone on to more fame since the show has gone off the air (though I find his stand-up to be a little preachy and annoying) and might be most notable as Doctor Tobias Funke on Arrested Development... and aside from that role, Mr. Show is easily the greatest thing he's done.

There are only four seasons of the show, and I think probably because it must be incredibly hard to keep up the complex way it was put together while keeping it consistently funny for the duration. I was also lucky enough to catch them live in 2002 when they did the Mr. Show: Hooray for America! tour, and it did not disappoint. (that short review means that while I remember laughing, I don't even remember what I ate for lunch yesterday, let alone any details from a performance over five years ago)

In honor of this Thursday's Beej, here are some of my favorite Mr. Show sketches:

The Audition

Phone Sex


Shoe Store

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Music/Death Beej: Heath Ledger Edition

I mentioned earlier in the day to a friend that the possible accidental overdose that may have caused Heath Ledger's death was eerily similar to that of one of my very favorite musicians, Nick Drake. This sentiment was made even weirder when I found this article on pitchfork, which mentions Ledger's love of Nick Drake and how he had hoped to portray him someday. Depressing, to be sure. Drake's final album, Pink Moon is one of the most amazing, beautiful, and sad albums I've ever heard, and every song on it is as dark or darker than anything else I've ever heard, and that includes "Holocaust" by Big Star.

I'm posting about Ledger mainly to point out how awesome I am for making the Ledger/Nick Drake connection before anyone else (in the world!). But also because for the past several months, all of us (Ziller, Killian, and myself) have had raging mega-huge nerd boners created by previews and hype for The Dark Knight. Ledger looks like he is (was?) going to be ridiculously awesome as the Joker in this movie. Full disclosure: My first thoughts when I heard he died yesterday were, "This shit better not fuck up The Dark Knight or any subsequent sequels they had planned!" Alright? there, I'm a bad person. I knew that already anyway, fuckface.

Anyway, in honor of both of these beej worthy dead fellers, here's the trailer for The Dark Knight, and Things Behind the Sun, by Nick Drake. And feel free to not watch the video for Nick Drake, the song is amazing but that's the only video of it I could find and from the five seconds of it that I watched, it seemed pretty fucking dumb. Also if you're a reader, Nick Drake's biography is an excellent book.

And Things Behind the Sun:

Quit Playin' Games with My Heart

I was originally going to title this post "please Jon Heyman stop being such a cock tease" but it seemed too gay. Anyway, according to his recent article on SI, the Mets have become the front runners in the Johan Santana trade. Here is why I think we should do whatever it takes to get him (regarding prospects, were they to trade Reyes I would go on a killing spree).

We already traded Lastings Milledge for Brian Schneider and Ryan Church. Two serviceable players - a decent defensive catcher who cant hit for shit, and an outfielder who will platoon because he cant hit lefties... For a guy who last year was being spoken of in talks of straight-up trades for Manny Ramirez. All because he wasn't as good in the corner outfield spots as he was in center and what - he high-fived fans and wanted bitches to bend they knees? Stupid. What does this have to do with Johan you ask? I'll tell you:

We've already made a trade that will come back to haunt us like Scott fucking Kazmir (fuck you Steve Phillips) with Milledge - he will be a star in DC, mark it down*. So why not make a deal for the best pitcher in the game right now? You give away Carlos Gomez and a few pitchers, or possibly Fernando Martinez, we get insanely better right off the get go. It makes too much sense not to do it, as long as we don't give Santana an extension with Ztioesque dollars attached, because that's just like begging him to suck. I say if we can trade maybe Gomez, Pelfrey, Mulvey and Humber for him, then sign him for an additional 3 years, we've made out like bandits.

I'm sure by writing this I've doomed his chances of heading to Queens (I have that kind of power), but seriously, regardless of where he goes, I hope it happens soon. I'm fucking tired of reading articles like Heyman's and getting worked into a tizzy to only then get blue balls for at least another week or so.

*contingent upon Elijah Dukes staying the hell away from him

The Wednesday Unsung Hero Award

When the Legendary Luau Brothers were in their most desperate time of need, when they had been twice previously thwarted by the vicious Volcano sisters in their (the brothers) attempt to pacify the sisters and prevent an eruption, who came to the rescue?

That's right. Austin. Your unsung hero of the week. He may be new on the block, but according to polls he was voted second favorite Backyardigan only behind Pablo, the OG original gangsta.

He knew that all Tasha and Uniqua really wanted was to be invited to the Luau, not some fancy stone or some fancy pearl, but he kept quiet until both Pablo and Tyrone had failed with their attempts at appeasement. Was this because he's shy? Because he's the new guy, afraid to take a stand?

No. It is because Austin, our hero, is a complete asshole. He uses his false timidness (bear in mind they refer to themselves as: Tyrone the Strong, Pablo the Swift, and "Just" Austin) in The Legend of the Volcano Sisters to allow his friends to fail, while he all along knew that flowers and a couple of nice words to the ladies would win their hearts. Then, when the situation is most dire, Austin comes through and looks like a hero, and a smooth motherfuckin ladies' man.

Austin appears in the fewest of the episodes of any of the characters, and I think it's because he's a schadenfreude lovin asshole who might just be the ultimate badass.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Darts: Fun as Hell but Damned if I Know Why

One of the Christmas presents I received this year was a nice Dart Board. I just recently put it up in the basement, and find myself wanting to play darts a lot. I have yet to figure out why. 501 is a pretty fun game, in fact, it's the only dart game I know how to play (besides of course, throw all the darts at the board and see how close you can get to the bulls eye!). Anyway, I find myself confused by my enjoyment of even being alone in my basement throwing darts at the board.. It's as if the act of throwing little javelins itself is the fun part, and whenever I'm finished throwing all six there is this twinge of disappointment like "that was it? really?" I'm sure if I had people over it would be a different (I haven't had people over since the dartboard went up).

I'd also like to interject that because of a disease prominent mostly in old ladies , I have four operations on my dominant wrist, and throwing darts is not entirely comfortable (nor are most thing, including typing this). So as I'm sitting there throwing darts and whispering "Wheeee!" to myself like a child on a roller coaster, there is also that hint of pain that lets me know I'm really earning whatever it is I'm accomplishing.

Now, on the reverse side of the dart board is a baseball game that looks similar to this:

I have no idea how this game is played. I really want to know, but am too lazy to even read the piece of paper that came with the dartboard explaining all the rules to all the games. When I have company maybe this will change, but for the time being I'm content to toss darts willy nilly trying to load the bases and hit a grand slam with total disregard for balls, strikes, and outs. I think part of my hesitance about finding out the real rules of the game is that it will suck, be boring, or worse, that I will suck at it (which will be true regardless).

I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

Do you want to come over and play darts with me?

Monday, January 21, 2008

Why I'm Rooting For Eli.... A-rod?

As someone who grew up a Mets fan and a Jets fan in New York, it's been nice to have your team's shitty seasons overlooked by negatives from another teams good season.  Take for example, the Giants of this season, or the Yankees since A-rod joined them.  On the back of every newspaper, and the topic of every sports talk radio show is all Yankees and Giants (and the fucking Rangers, if you're scoring at home).    This means, even while the team you obsess over for roughly 8 months out of the year is going through an historic collapse, the only thing you'll see on the front page of the sports is "Why aren't Derek Jeter and A-rod having sleep overs any more?"  (except for when said prior team completes said collapse. fuck...anyway)  Same thing goes for football.  I don't really know why, but the New York Media is seriously all over the Giants and the Yankees and could seem to really give a shit about the Jets especially.  We made the playoffs last year, seemingly got better over the off-season, then proceeded to completely fucking blow for 17 weeks (I assume the bye week consisted of the team blowing each other, so it still counts, in a gives-me-a-boner type of way). Completely ignored by the papers.  What do we get instead?  "Giants win again, but Eli sure isn't a leader and will never be Peyton and we're all spoiled with nothing better to do huh?!"  Seriously.  The G-men have a good season and the focus of the whole fucking season isn't how they overcame a seriously large amount of injuries to not only make the playoffs but make it to the superbowl, but how big of a poopy-pants douche is Eli...  Now, I understand the way in which he made it to the Giants (whiney baby blah blah) deserves to then be scrutinized, but your team is fucking winning.  Who cares if he threw 3 picks when your team fucking won?  Guess what?  The other New York team got blown out again and no one seems to care. 

 While I do love having my crappy teams missteps glazed over, it also makes me furious with spoiled New York fans with nothing better to do but complain about wins for their fucking team...  which brings me back to the A-rod factor.  I have 'friends' who are Yankee fans who could honestly not give a flying fuck about baseball until September.  They literally do not pay any attention whatsoever to baseball until then.. Then, somehow, they are the biggest fans on the planet.  FUCK YOU.  These are the same people who see the back page of the Post and see A-rod being called out for striking out three times in one game as if this is some indication of his overall play and were dying for him to opt-out of his contract and leave the Yankees and take his 'cancer' with him. ( does a much better idea of explaining how stupid people who bad mouth a-rod are, so I won't really try)  Anyway, for this reason, I generally root for A-rod, I want him to do awesome,  I want him to break every record ever, and  I want the Yankees to lose.  You fucking assholes don't deserve him.  I wanted so badly for him to wind up on some other team and immediately win the world series just as a fuck you to every asshole Yankee fan. I could not have been more furious when he negotiated his own deal to stay there for the better part of forever. Anyway, this is why I am rooting for Eli Manning.  

I want to call out all my asshole friends for badmouthing him  constantly and talking about how fucked the team was without Tiki and how shitty Coughlin was, and how the team should draft another QB - fuck all of you in your stupid faces.  So yes, I'm rooting for Eli to throw six touchdown passes in the superbowl, as long as the Giants don't win, because fuck you spoiled assho.... oh fuck. who are they playing?  Oh. Fuck. Me...

Ok... Go Giants!!! 

Friday, January 18, 2008

TV Beej: Undeclared

I recently got the entire series of Undeclared on DVD, and I have to say, it is one of the best comedies in a long while. I watched it when it aired, but had forgotten how smart and funny the show truly was.

It was Judd Apatow's next project after the equally great Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared was more a straight up comedy than a drama, and each episode is only a half hour. Like Freaks however, it was also cancelled after less than 20 episodes. I can't help but think part of the reason for its failure was timing (its original air date was pushed back because of 9/11) and really shitty marketing by Fox. I used to see the commercials for this show and think it would be the dumbest show ever, having no idea it was actually smart and well written and hilarious. It is set in a college freshman dorm, and does a pretty decent job of detailing a lot of the shit 18 year olds go through in a weird time. It also has most of the usual cast of Apatow kids along for the ride - Seth Rogen, Jason Siegel, Jay Baruchel, Samm Levine, Martin Starr, etc.

This is a show I think that ranks in at least the top five funniest "sit-coms" of the last ten years or so, though right now the only show that I can think of that I'd rather watch is Arrested Development. So here's to you, Undeclared.

Eating Mishaps, Or: Exactly How Stupid Are You?

Few things bother me more than fucking up while eating. No wait, that's not true. There are a ton of things that bother me way more than fucking up while eating. Anyway... One of the many things about life that annoy the ever-living shit out of me is fucking up while eating. This includes burning your tongue, biting your lip, or the very worst, biting the inside of your cheek. Nothing makes me feel more stupid than doing one of these things. No wait, that's not true, I feel stupid all the time regardless of what I'm doing. Anyway... These are three of the many things that make me feel like a complete moron. If you are me, that means you have been eating in order to stay alive for twenty-five years. TWENTY-FIVE years of doing something and you still manage to fuck it up!

Oh, burnt your tongue on soup, huh? Ah well, rookie mistake.. how long you been eating hot food for?

Oh.. oh my...

Bit your cheek huh? well, you'll learn. How long you been chewing food for?

Oh...oh my..

You'd think at some point it just clicks and you stop being such a pig that your instincts kick in and say "Hey, we can wait another two minutes, don't bother putting that steaming pile of glop into your mouth just yet." But no, it doesn't... At least it doesn't for me.

I think biting your cheek has to be the worst because it hurts for multiple days, which means you get at least a like, seventy-two hour reminder of what a fucking dolt you are. It also means that if you eat anything salty the inside of your mouth is going to hurt like hell.

From here on out I'm taking all my meals chilled and through a straw, thank you kindly.

Friday Music Beej: Destroyer

Destroyer is the solo vehicle of Dan Bejar, whom you might better know as a member of the New Pornographers... While I am a pretty big fan of the Pornos, I always finding myself wishing every song on it were more like the ones that Bejar writes and sings... which then makes me realize there are 8 Destroyer albums I could be listening to. My personal favorite has to be Your Blues. Bejar's style is a weird mix of electric folk and wry humour in his observations that make listening to the lyrics part of the fun. With Your Blues he made a leap into some new territory, with the album being really heavy on the synths. It's at once grandiose while remaining fun and easy. He then did an EP of songs from Your Blues with Frog Eyes as his backing band, which should have been way more awesome than it was. His follow up album Rubies did a nice job of kind of intergrating the synth styles of Your Blues with the folksy elements of his previous work - He has a new one called Trouble in Dreams out in March, and just thinking about it gives me a boner.. And since I'm not nearly as eloquent as I'd like to be describing music (Most of the reviews I give my friends sound like this, "It's awesome, trust me. You'll love it! If you don't it's because you're a fucking shitfuck"), I'll leave off here with a video - the song is An Actor's Revenge

Also, if you dig Destroyer (already did or do now), I highly recommend checking out Danielson.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Bargle Paisano and the Case of the 6 Train Jacker

(artists rendition)

Bargle Paisano was no ordinary boy. He had a nose for clues. Thanks in no small part to his dog, Scoops, Bargle had been in the mystery solving business for 2 years, since the ripe age of 8. Son of a chimney sweep and a seemstress, Bargle grew up largely unloved - save for one night of filthy love from an uncle who's name he no longer remembers. One day on his trek up to the park from Little Italy, a trek generally made on foot (as the subway was no place for a little boy by his lonesome), Scoops ran down the stairs and made his way on to the six train platform.

Bargle knew he couldn't just abandon Scoops, so he raced after him down the stairs, only to see the plump beagle making his way on to the recently opened train doors. In a panic, he jumped the turnstile and rushed onto the train. Being midday, there were few people with them in the car. Alone and safe he thought... but then he heard a sound and saw what appeared to be a walrus in a ski cap, flapping his arms about madly. Nervous, Bargle sat down and began to take deep breaths and think calming thoughts. With Scoops in his lap, he drank it all in and cooly processed the information surrounding him on the train car.

The walrus in question was actually a man, who appeared to be having some sort of fisticuffs with his penis. The aroma reaching Bargle's nose was reminiscent of rape mixed with beer shits covered in candied goat shit. (He wondered with a shudder as to why he recognized these scents) Eager to difuse the situation and solve the mystery of the man and his fighting penis, Bargle asked sincerely,

"Sir, May I ask what the problem here is?"
"My leg has a DNA!!!!"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Holy Christ, Scoop. lets get out of here"

With that last shout from the vagabond, the train stopped and Bargle was able to escape unharmed, if a little frazzled. He decided that instead of going to the park he would call it an early day and go home.

For Bargle, it was another mystery that was going to have by solved by way of demonstration, with the help of his mother and father, violently, while all he could do was hold onto Scoops and cry.

Don't Stop Bar-eathin: A Leaflet on Quitting Smoking

I love cigarettes. In fact, I love them so much that it actually feels like I am breaking up with them as I stomp them out. Since the days of yore, I have always enjoyed the company and solace in a frost brewed ci. Many of the best nights/days of my life are a direct result of chain smoking for hours on end while bullshitting with a bunch of pricks. I know quitting is going to be an extremely hard thing to embark on, mainly b/c everything in the past 9 years I associate, in some way, with a healthy CI. So, in hopes to make things a little easier, I've spoken with a plethora of people ranging from scientists, nurses, and escaped convicts and pieced together my own five step program based on my studies.

To ensure that quitting will last

Wake up each morning finger yourself and slow fuck your mattress. This should cut down on cravings until the lunching hour. (Knuckles 23)

Step 2: PAIN
Go to your local hardware store and get a back of rock salt and a bag of sand. Take a cocktail straw and insert it into the cockhole. Take 1 gram of rock salt, and 2 grains of sand between your index finger and thumb. Gently stuff into the cocktail straw and, in effect, the dickole. This will give you an unbelievable burning sensation in your groin, but one helluvan orgasm.
(Knuckles 27)
Note: pebbles and dirt can be used as substitutes

If you have a Discovery Zone or an A-Ha in your neighborhood, this will be a cake walk. Loiter around the local children's places and choose the kid who seems to be the most unloved by his/her parent(s). When he/she isn't being watched, lure them away with a Dora/Backyardigans figurine. Take the kid to a children's movie, buy him a toy, and tell him about magical places where there are waterfalls of chocolate and it rains gumdrops. By this time you can bet there's an A.P.B. out on you. Call the police station and demand $40 in ransom money at the phone booth on the corner of Park and 5th and that you'll leave the kid there after you receive the money. Once you successfully retrieve the money and return the kid - you've totally made out on this one b/c the money it cost to take the kid to the movie is now paid in full + a little fringe benefit! (Knuckles 51)
Note: Adult can be substituted for kid. Use money or eggs to lure

One of the most difficult things to do when quitting is breaking old habits that are associated with smoking (i.e.: coffee, after dinner, anal). This can be remedied fairly easily by conditioning yourself into creating new associations. Here's how I went about it. I positioned myself so that my girlfriend could smash me on the side of the head with a brick, propelling me into the bathroom mirror and inevitably cracking my head on the tiled floor. This made me lose my short term memory. I have to resort to tattooing basic life instructions to various parts of my body and write notes and draw maps. One example I have of a body tattoo is an arrow pointing to my genitals that says 'jerk-off.' This has proven to be a fool proof plan b/c I can barely remember to eat let alone smoke a delightful one. If you're not ready for this step yet, then smear some fecal matter on a pretzel rod and nosh on it throughout the day to cut down on cravings. (Knuckles 34)

If you feel that you are unable to meet the challenge of quitting head on, then please feel free to continue enjoying smoking. I know, I do. (Knuckles 46)
All quotes are direct from Melkworth Knuckles, an escaped convict from Sing Sing. He broke into my home on 12/25/07 disguised as a foot. He's been holding my family hostage ever since and keeps screaming about the joys of toast and leisure.
If you read this I live at 62...(connection lost)

New Year's Heave: A guide to better living in 2008

2008 is shaping up to be a huge year in my life. On the Eve of 2008 while crying to myself about how lonely my life is, I decided that change was imperative. Right before I passed out in a pile of someone else's vomit I mumbled 'This fat shit is going to lose weight, stop smoking, and masturbate a helluva a lot more in 08.' My campaign slogan, in hopes to get more people to vote during the elections in November is 'Masturbate in '08.' It rolls off the tongue, no? Anyway, I've started a workout regimen that's producing amazing results.

I've really been trying to get in better shape lately. I've come up with a rigorous workout routine that revolves around not eating, drinking in excess, and smoking cigarettes. One might ask, 'How would you consider that a workout routine, when you actually aren't working out?' And to that, I would answer: 'Do you like to fuck?'

I've noticed that if you eat in small doses, then get blind drunk and throw up, you can mask your boy-limia with something cool like 'yo man, I totally got drunk off Smirnoff Watermelon last night and puked out that sprout salad I ate for lunch.' Now you might say 'Bulimic or not, that sprout salad you had for lunch with the light vinaigrette and the cherry tomatoes is pretty damn gay dude.' To that I would most likely respond: 'Who wants to fuck?'

Lately, I have become accustomed to smelling other peoples food really really hard and then sighing loudly. I find the fragrance leaves me with the feeling: 'I had a delicious tofu tart sprinkled ever so lightly in a spicy picante sauce with just a hint of rosemary to taste.' I can hear you already: 'dude, did you lube the dick up with the tofu before you shoved it up your ass?' To which I would most definitely respond with 'You want know?'


Calories burned: 1 million

Cigarettes smoked: 1million

Liquor drunk: 1 million gallons

Calories burned from vomit acid: 1 million

Smoking cigarettes and drinking beer with cigarettes in them: 20

*nutritional facts based on FDA: Fart and Dick Assholsciation (can you get any LESS clever than what I just wrote?) How about: Fuck and Dick Asshole. That's better...much better.*

Feel free to print and pass along to friends and we'll reconvene here in a few days to discuss. In the meantime, I need to shave a nut.

The Writers' Strike: An Intelligent Discussion

Being pretty serious television watchers throughout our respective lives, Princess and I have been somewhat reeling since the WGA writers' strike started. No new 24, the Office, etc. etc. When NBC started with this new generation of American Gladiators, we had a discussion as to what other game shows should be remade for these times. what follows is said discussion:

pemulis: what other old shit should they ressurect?
princess: STUDS
pemulis: do you remember that show where they had like, cool new toys and inventions, and at the end there was like, a graveyard segment with shitty toys?
pemulis: studs is a definite - who should host?
princess: yes! I don't remember the name
pemulis: me either. but fuck did i love that show
pemulis: there was also this game show i watched when i was little - Couch Potatoes
princess: I remember that
princess: who hosts studs?
pemulis: they should also, i think, televise more board game matches. i would probably watch people play balderdash
pemulis: i say bring back chris hardwick from singled out
pemulis: you know hes available
princess: hahahah Mark DiCarlo - wasn't he the original host?
pemulis: i hope you looked that up, because if you knew that off the top of your head i'll be upset
pemulis: and a little jealous
princess: I knew it...that's really pathetic
princess: and sad
pemulis: they should do a grown up and more dangerous version of Legends of the Hidden Temple
princess: hahahaha - or a land of the lost but with real dinosaurs
pemulis: oh shit, yea. all you need is some amber with mosquitoes in it
pemulis: and jeff goldblum could be in it
princess: I'd watch
pemulis: sorry - it always comes back to jurassic park. anyway. they should do something to jazz up family fued and start that up again
pemulis: maybe have ray combs come back as host
princess: come back as g-Host
pemulis: i chuckled harder than that joke probably deserved
princess: that's fucked up
princess: poor Ray Combs
princess: or have Richard Dawson come back but as Killian from the Running Man and make it about death
pemulis: hanging yourself is a fucked up way to go. you must really want out if thats how you do it
pemulis: like, survery says "DEATH BY PUBLIC EXECUTION!"
princess: then the audience stones you
pemulis: and every heads up question is something to the effect of "We asked a hundred people how you are going to die, what was the number one answer?"
pemulis: and its always death by audience stoning
princess: hahahaha
pemulis: WHOA
pemulis: so i wikipedia'd studs
pemulis: 1) you were right about MarkDeCarlo
princess: is it coming back? hahaha
pemulis: 2) remember how i suggested Chris Hardwick?
pemulis: "Actor/comedian Chris Hardwick was "discovered" by a producer when he made a hilarious appearance as a contestant on the show."
princess: GET THE FUCK OUT!
princess: hahahahaha
pemulis: i'm scared and just peed a little
pemulis: he looks like paul reisers gay older brother
princess: mad about jews
pemulis: i'd hit it
pemulis: thats another show i hated
pemulis: speaking of television
pemulis: i think its because 1) paul reiser sucks
pemulis: and 2) in my formative years i could never figure out whether or not i thought helen hunt was attractive or gross
princess: I fucking hate Helen Hunt too
pemulis: i eventually settled on gross, thanks mainly to realizing i was gay