Or that guy is My Giant

So I was watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show ‘09 last night on TV. Yes, feel free to mock, but I was trapped at my grandparent’s house with no computer, no iPod, and one TV. Whatever they were watching was the only entertainment going. Anyways, aside from the elaborate frilly outfits there were a couple things I felt the need to share:

1. What was up with Fergie’s hair? She’s headlining a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, wearing a pretty fancy dress, and her hair looked like she hadn’t showered in a couple days and then sprayed a bunch of hairspray on the ends. Were all the stylists busy? She usually does have pretty crappy hair, but I guess I expected more at an event where she was surrounded by supermodels and people who know how to make them look good. Whatever, I have a hate-on for her and the Black Eyed Peas and their ‘we’re-gonna-headline-every-event-this-year-and-also-try-to-act-in-some-movies-even-if-we-suck-at-it’ attitude.

2. Kings of Leon. The show featured two of their songs. Two. I just thought it was interesting, how seemingly popular they’ve gotten lately after being largely ignored by the US for the first five years of their career. Better late than never.

And lastly, Heidi Klum talks like an artard. That is all.

Stick figures running around with their hair on fire is hilarious. Just ask my brother. It’s always a mystery how their hair catches on fire in the first place, though. And then there’s the whole stick-figures-don’t-have-hair thing. But aside from the loopholes, the best part about it is watching them running around, arms flailing, because stick figures are never taught the Stop, Drop and Roll technique in grade school. It’s like they’re bred to catch on fire.

I present now a delightfully devilish departure, also known as Stick Figures with their Hair on Fire, episode 1.

I swear I’m an adult. I just never grew up.

I finally saw Pan’s Labyrinth last night for the first time. All I can say is wow. Depressing. And extremely cringe-worthy. I actually had to stop the movie at the part where the captain is about to torture the stuttering guy just to convince myself to keep watching. Yeah. If you knew me you’d know how ridiculous that is. I’m usually extremely pro-gore: Dead-Alive, anyone? Awesome movie, btw. If you are pro-gore.

But this movie was too…realistic or something. I had to watch back-to-back episodes of Flight of the Conchords just so I could sleep without nightmares. So, needless to say I had the urge to make fun of this movie a little bit. If only to get the image of the stuttering guy’s hand out of my brain. I present to you now a scene that never made it into the movie, but probably should have been put in to help lighten the mood, or at least so that everyone wouldn’t feel like shit after watching it. Anyways, enjoy:

I saw a guy walking around the other day wearing an honest-to-god full-on cape and Zorro hat. And Zorro boots. He might have had a sword hidden under the cape, I don’t know. Sure, it’s close to Halloween, but something told me this guy wore this outfit on a regular basis; maybe it was the way he swooped it around himself when he turned a corner, maybe it was how he wore it with no sense of irony and completely ignored the mocking stares from people walking by. One thing’s for sure: it’s hard to pull off the cape without looking like a WOW LARPing reject.

That’s why this week’s PSA is so important: it’s a reminder of how the exciting world of cape fashion can go horribly wrong.

…if McDick’s can afford to hire artards.

The other day my friend and I were shopping and we decided to get some coffee from McDonald’s because it’s cheap, and surprisingly good, but mostly because it was right there and we were too lazy to go anywhere else. The following is the actual conversation we had with the McDonald’s employee. Underlined text is to highlight incompetence.

Friend: Hi, can we get a large iced coffee and a large regular black coffee.

McDonald’s Employee: So you want one coffee…

F: One regular coffee….

McE: One regular coffee. You want small?

F: Uh, no, large.

McE: Okay, one large coffee. (pause as she enters it into the cash register) You want cream and sugar?

F: No, just black will be fine. (we exchanged looks at this point)

McE: Okay. Large coffee no cream or sugar… (she finishes typing it in) Is that everything?

F: And a large iced coffee.

McE: You want regular?

F: Sorry?

McE: You want regular or vanilla? (keep in mind they actually have three flavours of iced coffee, but I guess she could tell just by looking at us that we didn’t want the caramel flavour)

Me: Just regular is fine, thanks.

McE: Okay, $3.75.

That was the most complicated McDonald’s order I’ve ever placed. Amazingly, I did get my large regular iced coffee, and my friend did get her large black coffee, but they ran out of regular as the employee was pouring it so she filled the rest of the cup with decaf hoping we wouldn’t notice. We totally did, but at that point we thought it better to cut our losses. I should also mention this all took place at a downtown location, close to the financial district, where they must get hundreds of coffee orders a week. Recession? What recession?

So I’ve been listening to The Decemberists‘ latest album The Hazards of Love a lot lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that they kick ass. Not just because of this album, although it is by far one of their best, but because all their stuff is awesome. And I’m not just jumping on the bandwagon because they appeared on The Colbert Report (twice!); I’ve actually been listening to them for a long time. It just took the creation of this album to make me want to say something about it. So I’m saying it: The Decemberists kick your ass. There. I said it. It is said, and it cannot be unsaid.

The reason in particular I love this album above all the others (though I could easily name a dozen songs from their other albums that are my favourites, like Red Right Ankle, and On the Bus Mall, and July, July!) is because they made The Hazards of Love a concept album. It’s a freakin’ Rock Opera! And they totally pulled it off. This sort of Album-Oriented Rock (AOR for all you idiots musically challenged) has reemerged lately among some of the better artists of my generation, and I’ve got to say I’m glad it has.

I think critics were somewhat concerned when the iTunes store started to take off that it would be the death of AOR, as it allowed consumers to purchase singles more easily than before (i.e. instead of buying LPs or EPs) without having to buy the whole album. And, while certain types of artists have benefited from this paradigm shift (notably more mainstream/pop “artists”* who garner popularity solely from their singles being played ad nauseum on the radio and in nightclubs) the more ambitious (read: actual) artists have said “eff that” and are reviving the Golden Age of rock (’60s and ’70s for all you idiots musically challenged). The Golden Age, which created the rock opera, when an entire album composed a story, where songs could be listened to individually, but were much better when listened to collectively. Then the ’80s came along and shit all over that idea, and it’s taken 30 years for us to get back to this under-appreciated though incredibly effective (when done right) style of music.

I realize I’m completely off topic, but the point of the preceeding tangent is thus: The Decemberists are now squarely in the camp of awesome because they succeeded at creating a great rock opera. And if you think they are too pretentious or nerdy then you may as well join the “we think Obama is an elitist because he doesn’t talk like a complete jerk-weed asinine moron” club. In other words you are a retard. At least now you know.

So go buy The Hazards of Love! On iTunes if you have to! I’m not going to recommend any songs on it because, obviously, you have to listen to the whole thing, but if you really twist my arm then… I’d tell you to shove off. In all honesty, though, after I’d broken your face for twisting my arm, I would tell you that my favourites are: The Wanting Comes In Waves/Repaid, The Rake’s Song, The Queen’s Rebuke/The Crossing, and The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned). Okay? Stop bustin’ my balls.

*quotations are used because their only talents are knowing how to manipulate teenage followers with fashion and how to use auto-tune. Actually, scratch that: their managers/labels do all that stuff for them.

At work the other day I invented this game called “footsack”. It’s like hackysack, or “footbag” (–I know. I didn’t believe it either. But it’s true; the sport is actually called footbag–) without the sack or bag. So to speak. Feel like wasting some time? Here’s how to play:

Two players stand facing each other. The goal of the game is to “sack” the other person while avoiding getting sacked yourself. You are only allowed to use your feet, both for sacking and blocking of the sack, and are not allowed to use your legs, arms, or move away to avoid getting sacked. A typical game involves one person kicking up while the other person kicks up at the same time to hit the approaching foot and thus block the sack. This exchange often occurs multiple times before resulting in either person getting sacked, and is otherwise known as sparring. When one player sacks the other, he has to yell “FOOTSACK”.

It seems simple, but there are many strategies to be implemented to ensure you become the sacker, and not the sackee. I should also note that girls have a distinct advantage in this game, so matches should be gender-neutral (i.e. either two guys or two girls, unless the guy is a masochist).

I made a diagram below to show just how awesome this game is. Have fun playing footsack! It’s the funnest game ever invented.

*okay so I just used cowboys and indians to simulate a classic rivalry; if you don’t think it’s PC you can go back to 1986, Shoulderpads.

Here’s your Screencap Recap for Supernatural, S5E06, “I Believe the Children are Our Future”:

*Yeah, so if you didn’t want to be spoiled, you really shouldn’t have clicked on a link that includes the word “Recap”. Or Screencap. Figure it out.

Well, last night’s episode of Supernatural didn’t suck balls like last week’s, but it did have its fair share of angst at the end, prompting the motion recap you see above (or will see, eventually, if you have an über-slow 56k connection. Shut up and be patient). Actually, the worst part of the episode was the title, which has now given me an ear-worm and brought up childhood memories of entering my elementary-school gym for an assembly (our principal had that song on tape and played it at the beginning of any school event)(and he gave us donuts on our birthday)(I don’t know why I mentioned that, just thought you should know).

Here are the ten things you need to know about this episode:

1. Stephen King makes you scratch your brains out.
2. Lying to your children invokes the almighty power of the Cavity Creeps.
3. No-one in Nebraska has heard of a band called Led Zeppelin. Even when they drop them in the mail-slot.
4. The Antichrist is definitely evil because he hasn’t, either. (Although he could use his powers for good and get them to do a reunion tour–with Zombie!Bonham! Get on it, Supernatural.)
5. When Dean gets bored, he–actually, you don’t need to know that.
6. Bobby’s new nickname is Professor Xavier. No, nevermind.
7. Dean and Cas are just “buddies”. Okay? Jeez. Just because Dean is seen picking up Castiel’s action figure…
8. John drops the ball again from beyond the grave. El Bastardo.
9. Everyone wants to get their hands on a Stabby-Action-Castiel-Collectible-Figurine. Even Sam.
10. Australia is the land of medieval convicts and demon spawn. And bikinis.

In conclusion:  mini-hellatus time! And I’m spent.

Okay, so I know this movie came out like a year ago. Shut up. I only just got around to downloading it because I wanted to see for myself if it is really as bad as everyone says it is. Well, I’m typing this blind right now because I had to gouge out my eyes with a fork. I literally only watched the first 10 minutes before I went into epileptic shock and woke up to find the movie was over. Because of my severe reaction(s), I thought it best not to try to re-watch the whole movie, but instead review the first ten minutes and call it fair.

First off, “I am death”? Way to introduce your first character. Why didn’t they just parade all the main characters out one by one and have them recite their full names and role in the story? Lame. And apparently “The” Spirit is the only person to escape death ever. Even counting everyone who has ever been resuscitated when their hearts stopped beating. Ok, maybe he was dead for awhile, and then came back. Which makes him a? Zombie, right.Glad we’re on the same page.

Dude’s got a lot of cats. He’s a zombie-cat-lady. Oh, and then some informant calls him and proceeds to tell him “the Octopus” is behind some shenanigans and he doesn’t want to call it in because “who knows how far his tentacles spread.” Hmm. Okay. I’m guessing for the rest of the movie, bad puns and quips are going to surround any mention of the Octopus. With each one as unfunny as the one I just mentioned. I’m really glad I blacked out for most of it.

And now we get to watch zombie-cat-lady run across the building tops looking like a retard and blather on and on about how precious his city is, and about all the things he wants to do to her if he could get her alone in a dark room. The city, he’s talking about. Not a lady. Not even a man. Not even one of his cats. Finally we get the title card and all we know about this guy is he’s a zombie-cat-lady-crime-fighter whose got a hard-on for inanimate buildings and streets.

And then, just when you think this movie might start picking up, zombie-cat-lady proceeds to beat some bad-guys up… off camera. Yeah. I’m serious. All we see are the shadows of him punching and breaking arms and throwing the goons around. And then? He distracts the woman he saved by throwing away a knife that got stuck in him and, get this, when she looks away he trots around the corner so it looks like he disappeared. Seriously. They couldn’t even focus the camera on her and then pan back so at least there would be some air of mystery over how he disappeared. No, they decide this is more important for us to see than the fighting, and it isn’t even something awesome like him flying up into the air or climbing up the wall or using his utility-belt-grappling-hook. He just walks around the corner. And the worst part? He then starts running around like a tard again and talking about his city. Again.

And then comes an ultra-lame-ass scene where the informant guy gets shot and doesn’t bleed, and we see a flashback of something that literally happened 10 seconds prior (they really couldn’t have shown that to us in real time?). I guess they were trying to make us think Girl-Mexican shot the informant, but it’s kind of pointless when they show you what really happened ten seconds later. And then we get to watch Girl-Mexican try to act underwater. It’s really quite amusing, especially when she loses one of the boxes she’s dragging and tries to convey dismay and annoyance. I almost started laughing, except that’s right about the time I passed out.

So, there it is, the first ten minutes of The Spirit. In conclusion? Epic FAIL. If you are actually considering watching this movie, please also consider jamming a rusty nail into your carotid. You’ll be glad you did.

Enjoy. And then go floss!

My bro and I have a lot of inside jokes, that often result in maniacal laughter. Before we moved out this would drive my mum crazy because she didn’t know what we were laughing at. I secretly think she misses it. The maniacal laughter. Even though she’s made no indication that she does. In an effort to bring back those fond memories (of something), I’m posting our jokes. Or, more specifically, the butt of our jokes.

This first one, “Anger Management” is one of our most pervasive jokes, as the punch-line can be applied to any instance where two men are involved, engage in mildly HoYay behaviour (in Anger Management Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson sleep in the same bed) and appear on a poster together (or not, it’s not a hard-and-fast rule).

Yes, you are correct. My brother and I have extremely sophisticated senses of humour.