250 Greatest Films: #189 Point Break

Reeves. Swayze. Busey. Together they team up in the the greatest film about skydiving, bank robber-surfers in the history of creation.

OK, it's probably the only movie about skydiving, bank robbing surfers, but you get my point.

There are so many things to enjoy here. Keanu plays ex-Ohio State QB "Johnny Utah" ferchrissakes whose love interest is none other than Lori "Tank Girl" Petty. Not to mention Gary Busey's trademark old cop with an ax to grind or Swayze's wild-eyed anti-establishment mysticism.

The whole thing is just so ridiculous. The combination of Swayze's whole "living past the edge" philosophy and Keanu's trademark wooden line-reading has a surreal effect.

The plot keeps moving with suspense and despite all the different ridiculous things going on it somehow hangs together -- credit the director I guess. Plus there's one part where Keanu almost gets his face shredded by a lawnmower.

Tagline: 100% Pure Adrenaline.

Plot Spoilers: Not really a whole lot to spoil. Busey dies, as does pretty much all the bad guys. Here's the final scene. Apparently still leaving options open for Point Break 2.



Memorable Quotes:
Bodhi: It's basic dog psychology, if you scare them and get them peeing down their leg, they submit. But if you project weakness, that promotes violence, and that's how people get hurt.
Roach: Peace, through superior firepower.

Ben Harp: You're a real blue flame special, aren't you, son? Young, dumb and full of cum, I know. What I don't know is how you got assigned here. Guess we must just have ourselves an asshole shortage, huh?
Johnny Utah: Not so far.

Johnny Utah: Bohdi! This is your wakeup call I AM AN F...B...I AGENT!
Bodhi: I know, isn't it wild! That's what makes it so interesting. You can do what you want, and make up your own rules. Why be a servant to the law, when you can be it's master?

Bohdi: You want the ultimate, you gotta be prepared to pay the ultimate price. It's not tragic to die doing what you love.

Ben Harp: Special agent Utah! This is not some job, flipping burgers at the local drive-in! Yes! - your surf board bothers me! Yes! - your approach to this whole damn case bothers me! And yes! - YOU BOTHER ME! And Pappas! Oh, for the love of Christ. How the hell did I even let you talk me into this whole bone-headed idea to begin with.
Pappas: Harp! We are working under-cover. It takes time. We've produced a few...
Ben Harp: NO! No no no no no no NO! Let me tell you what you've produced... Over the last two weeks, you two have produced exactly squat! SQUAT! During which time the ex-presidents have robbed two more banks. Now for Christ's sake, does either one of you have anything even remotely interesting to tell me?
[pause]
Johnny Utah: I caught my first tube today... Sir.

Pappas: I'm so hungry I could eat the ass end out of a dead rhino.

Johnny Utah: Where is Roach?
Bodhi: He's around somewhere. Listen Johnny, we're in a kind of a hurry; is there anything you need?
Johnny Utah: You gotta tell me where she is.
Bodhi: Oh yeah, and let my policy expire. Good idea.
Johnny Utah: Look Bodhi, people are dead, the ride is over.
Bodhi: Oh, no no no. I say when it's over.
Johnny Utah: They will nail you wherever you land. They'll use something new called radar, maybe you've heard of it.
Bodhi: What is your...
Johnny Utah: Bodhi, I know you man. When they fall on you, you won't back down and they'll have to burn your ass to the ground.
Bodhi: Shit happens.
Johnny Utah: You got a death wish. You want to ride to glory, fine. But, don't take Tyler with you. I'm begging you. Tell me where she is, and I walk away.
Bodhi: You walk away?
Johnny Utah: I walk away.
Bodhi: That's beautiful Johnny.

Johnny Utah: Vaya con Dios, Brah.

Best character: Here I'll go with Gary Busey as Special Agent Angelo Pappas. Nevermind the fact that Busey in no way looks spanish. The character loves burritos and Calvin and Hobbes! Plus he somehow figures out the whole surfer as bank robber angle that makes the entire film possible. This is probably the first and only time "best character" will go to a glorified plot device. But hey, it's Busey, no apologies.

Another reason to see it: The part where Johnny Utah jumps out the plan with nothing but a six-shooter is fucking awesome.

Happy now, bitch?

Get your damn hands off my booze and car keys, you teetotalling bastards. God forbid people drink responsibly, or at all. I blame Harry J. Anslinger.

Gotta give a shout out to what I consider to be a spinoff of this blog, dr.gpeice's Why I'm Radical. It's like the fainting goats had a baby, and it looks like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

Speaking of babies... Hey TMoney, as the only known peruser here with any kids, I require you get a monkey babysitter and let us know how its goes.

I'm a little late on this, but this is the most ridiculous ending of a football game I have ever seen.


Speaking of old crap you may have already seen, this map of the online world from xkcd is pretty good.

Hey look, its the world's most beautiful ass.

That's all I got, enjoy your weekend. I'm going to spend mine at the elephant enclosure at the zoo.

Andrea Bargnani takes it in the jar

Andrea is a girl's name you 7-foot multi-talented douchebag.

Yeah so tonight the sixers dropped the first of what is sure to be many games this season. Despite being down 22 in the the third quarter, they managed to make it interesting -- getting within 1 before a four point play by the aforementioned dego.

Still, I think this young, shitty sixers team could be fun this season. The potent three-point shooting of Kyle Korver, dominating rebounding of Reggie "Nutgrabber" Evans, competent passing of Andre Miller and development of young players like Rodney Carney, Lou Williams and Jason Smith are all pretty compelling, to me at least.

Not to mention the continued evolution of AI squared. He's like a Youtube video that eats and plays Wii.

On the other hand, Chris Bosh plays the game like some sort of dinosaur (a raptor perhaps?). That is to say -- he is a relentless killing machine, stopping at nothing until he has slit opposing teams' guts with his razor sharp claws so he can feast on their innards.

In conclusion, nutgrabber.

Back seat with my leg all stiff

You may think the life of a small town reporter/web editor is all political intrigue, rapidly spinning newspapers with crazy headlines, sexy parties and rum chased with whiskey.

It's more like looking through boring legal documents, four hour meetings about sewers, waiting for people to not call you back and fatties throwing themselves at you.

It's not at all how they described it in several movies like the one with Sally Field and Paul Newman, that's for sure.

This blog is small respite. I am too lazy to be creative. Tonight, for example, I just started writing whatever crap came to mind.

Re-Up

"There will come a time when you have to decide: Is it about you? Or is it about the work?"
-Daniels

I may have mentioned it before in this space, but lets reiterate once again how great "The Wire" is. The new season starts on January 6, and I already have half a hard on. Plus the theme this season is going to be "journalism" and how a newspaper interacts with the inner city community.

Each season deals with a different theme and its role in city life -- first season is cops and the drug game, second season is on the docks with the blue-collar stevedores, third brings politics into the mix, and the fourth season deals with schools.

I have a few theories on how the newspaper angle might play out, but I won't get into them too deeply because none of you will have any idea what I'm talking about, both because of my "insider" newspaper status and because no one watches the show. Lets just say McNulty will go back to the bottle.

Here's an apt review. It's from the internet.

Approximately 12 people will watch the final season of HBO's The Wire, the most amazing thing on television in ages. So haunted and moved by the show's brilliance, these precious few will proceed to nag everybody else to watch it to such an annoying degree that the entire world will write the show off out of pure spite.

True? Probably, but I'm still going to slang my knowledge on the show before January. And if you don't watch it you're racist.

Coming soon

The NBA is starting next week. I'm going to be a contrarian and say it's my second favorite league, behind the Barclay's English Premier.

There are two easily tangible reasons why the NBA is so high on my list. Ernie, Kenny and Charles in the best sports studio show in the world, and freedarko. Turn on TNT for one, and for the other, check out the EVERY PLAYER PREVIEW here, here and here.

To be a complete homer, my favorite is Allen Iverson:

TRUE I GOT MORE FANS THAN THE AVERAGE MAN BUT NOT ENOUGH LOOT TO LAST ME TO THE END OF THE WEEK, I LIVE BY THE BEAT LIKE YOU LIVE CHECK TO CHECK. IF YOU DON'T MOVE YO' FOOT THEN I DON'T EAT, SO WE LIKE NECK TO NECK. YES WE DONE COME A LONG WAY LIKE THEM SLIM ASS CIGARETTES FROM VIRGINIA, THIS AIN'T GON STOP SO WE JUST GONNA CONTINUE.

Also, Sam Cassell looks like an alien. And is quite patient.

There was never meant to be only one

My feelings toward big corporations are no secret. They are evil, fascist organizations that can be blamed for many of the plights of humanity on earth. Big media is no exception, except for Google, which publishes this blog.

My C- in Macroeconomics tells me that free market forces the consolidation of media organizations. Well that, and this outdated chart. This consolidation of media to fewer and fewer controlling interests is a bigger problem than you may think.

Some may argue that that chart is from six years ago, and that a C- isn't very good. They'll say that the rise of blogs, social networking and internet memes allows savvy American consumers to avoid big media in how they get their information. I say people are idiots, and point to lolcats.

The average American douchebag has no idea what is important. They have no "news judgement." The problem with giving a voice to the masses, is the masses are really fucking stupid. Pop culture throughout the ages is terribly embarassing. From the pet rock to the Macarena to Deal or No Deal, its not exactly intellectual pursuits that rise to the top of mainstream conciousness.

As media companies consolidate, it means their are fewer experienced, intelligent people providing the public with information. Without that filter, we end up with 800 million people talking about fat Britney Spears. Edward R. Murrow would be proud.

Journalism is now reactionary. California burns to the ground, it shows up on TV. There are very few reporters out there digging the dirt, looking for scandal. Watergate would never happen today.

For one, its all about ratings now. I can say, from experience, that at least 90% of editorial decisions made in newsrooms today are decided by how well it will sell. Gotta get that color above the fold.


Classic example -- there was a shooting in the back of some Jap restaurant in Downingtown last year. Some employee was out front smoking a cig and police rolled up, pointed their assault rifles at him, and he put his hands up. At this point, the intrepid photographer snapped a photo, which ran 6 columns across the front page with the screamer of a headline, "I just shot someone."

"It's not the first life I've ruined," the photographer said. That front page is now framed and sits on the floor in the video room. Litigation is pending.

Another problem is access. Big Media has the dollars to throw around to get access to the halls of power. By and large, bloggers sit behind their computers and interpret what they read, watch or get sent via email. Someone typing away in their parents basement isn't going to be able to interview general's and shit like that. Or go to Iraq and report from the front lines, Michael Yon aside.

This completely ignores the fact that the owners of the media corporations may have some vested interest in what information is widely disseminated.


"Your voice it is so soothing
That cunning mantra of killing
I need you my witness
To dress this up so bloodless
To numb me and purge me now
Of thoughts of blaming you"

More ways for me to waste time

So maybe this is not the way to let people know...but I have created a blog of my own. I will still try to contribute here on a fairly regular basis, which admittedly I haven't been doing for a while. Mainly my blog is going to consist of me talking about music, movies, tv, and the observations from my day to day life. No philly sports. Maybe some minnesota sports. Yeah, so click here to check it out. A review of a recent concert and movie will be coming soon.

In soviet Russia, face kicks you

I got nothing, so here's a video of some dude getting kicked in the face. Soccer rules.

courtesy With Leather

Eats babies

Sup fatties, sorry for not getting this up earlier, I was in NYC drinking beer out of styrofoam cups at a bar with hipsters. Plus now I work on Fridays, so I don't have all afternoon that day to look for the good stuff, possibly while high.

Speaking of New York, I am apparently a big fan of the Not for tourists guidebooks.

Speaking of fatties, here's an interesting article about how the farm bill shapes what it is we eat. Although farmer grant may have a differing opinion.

Quick question. Why would you want to legalize drugs? After all, they are already California's number one cash crop. Think about all the hippie farmers who would be out of work.

Flaming squirrel blows up car. Now there's a headline you don't see everyday. It's some quality journalism, especially the part about the tombstone. And speaking of squirrels, here's a video.


What's that? There should be more break-dancing movies? Well I guess you haven't heard about Step Up 2 the Streets. I don't know.

That's it. I'm going to go mourn the death of Lindsay Dawn Riley.

Getting punched before eating

For some reason I was watching Saturday Night Live last weekend (Bon Jovi is dreamy!). And before I fell asleep, I saw this little digital short, which apparently are the only funny things they do on SNL anymore.


As an aside, 30 Rock is like a fictional look at SNL behind the scenes, with about 259 percent more hilarity.

Fuck you, deer

So driving home from a typically riveting township planning commission meeting tonight, rocking out to some Bulls on Parade, when out of nowhere fucking cloppy the late night deer jumps out in front of my car.

Well I just fucking plowed right through the fucker and kept going. It's head hit the passenger side windshield and put a wicked crack in it. It also took off the passenger side mirror. Not too much damage other than that to the car, although I imagine the deer's seen better days. Fucking bitch.

I wanted to to post the video from Tommy Boy where the deer destroys their car, but the interweb has failed me. Fuck copyright. Fuck it right in the ear.

But then again, the search was not entirely fruitless, as I did find this newscasting brilliance.
SPOILER ALERT: The dude with the giant beard later shot the deer and ate it.

The Welsh-Ryan Tales

Once upon a time there was a young asiatic frenchman from Sacramento who could sling oblong spheroids great distances and with great accuracy. Many kings sought for him to lead their army's into battle, in far away lands such as Oregon State.

But nay, he said, "I must go to the lands of the Northwest, a man named Walker calls me to squire his purple-clad squadron to victory against far greater foes."

And it was such. The frenchman went east to the land of the Northwest, where he waited for his chance to prove himself in battle.

But then there was a time of great tragedy, and Walker was struck down before his time. The purple army was adrift in a sea of strife. Walker's great victories and killing of Wolverines were soon forgot, as the purple band's losses to Boilermakers and Hoosiers mounted.

But lo -- a new king rose in the land of the Northwest, a square-jawed monster determined to lift the purple warriors back to prominence through pure force of will. The square-jawed one knew he must find someone to aid him in his quest. And he saw the frenchman.

So the frenchman entered the fall of 2007 with the hopes of the entire Northwestern lands on his shoulders. Fortunately he had good warriors at his side, notably his longtime companion Tyrell the Stout.

The frenchman and his fellow purple-clad combatants successfully rebuked two enemy advances, but not without casualties. Tyrell the Stout was sent to the infirmary in a hard fought contest against a marauding Wolfpack.

So it went, as the lands of the Northwest were sacked by Blue Deviled invaders, crushed by Buckeyes and mauled by Wolverines. The square-jawed one called the frenchman into his chambers and issued him an ultimatum.

"FRENCHMAN, YOU MUST BEAT SPARTA OR I WILL EAT YOUR FACE. FORSOOTH."

"I will not fail," the frenchman replied through clenched teeth. "Even without Tyrell, we will defeat this spartan menace."

And the frenchman made it so -- setting East Lansing, Mich., ablaze as he sacked homes and raped coeds. When the carnage was completed, the frenchman retired to his meager quarters that he shared with another warrior, Mimms.

"Mimms, we have taken sparta, but a greater evil lurks on the horizon, I can sense it."

"Mmmpff," Mimms replied. Mimms wasn't known for his wisdom, or his ability to speak English.

A strange purple mist filled the room. And then a two-headed apparition appeared/

It spoke in a hollow voice, "Frenchman, you have usurped my sacred records, now I require the head of the gopher of gold."

"Who's there? Mimms is that you?"

"Noooo, tis not the tard. I am the spirit Brezac Basenok and I require penance. You have forgotten the teachings of Walker. You must slay the gopher of gold to honor your forbears. Woooo-ahhh-oooohhh." The Basenok then faded into nothingness.

Will the frenchman obtain the gopher of gold? Or lead his army to a bowl victory? Is this story going anywhere at all? Who knows? Here's Victory Right.

Topless Karate?

Sure, why not. I especially enjoy the sound effects. and the tits.

Serenity Now

"This game is rigged, man. We like them little bitches on the chessboard."
-Preston "Bodie" Broadus

Sorry for not posting anything in a while. Been busy with work and "The Wire" has been on demand, which had been taking up a lot of my time. No Bubbles, don't go back to the needle! I blame Wee Bey.

Anyway. Let's light this candle.

In case you haven't heard, you can download the new Radiohead album straight from their website, and pay whatever you think is appropriate. I haven't listened to Radiohead since my copy of OK Computer was stolen by a crackhead in aught three, but the new album is enjoyable so far, especially because I bought it for $2. The RIAA sucks.

Frank Rich can bitch about 'Good Germans' all he wants, as long as I don't have to pay a war tax.

If that's not horrifying enough for you: Check this out.

awwwwwwwwwwwww

Ten million ways to die. Choose One.
Me, I'm going with the tunnel of death.

Have you heard about this new breed of internet terrorists that call themselves anonymous? It's true. It's seems they attack innocent AOL and MySpace users by hacking. "Anonymous" has even infiltrated this here fainting goats, often asking for more Philly sports masturbation. Fortunately we have local Fox affiliates blowing the lid off this secret society of websites.
So. Many. Jokes. Brain. Exploding. Like. That. Van.



That's all I got, maybe check back later for something on YOUR NORTHWESTERN WILDCATS. That is if this case of Molson is as inspirational as it refreshing.

Thanks for the lesson

In case you fell asleep in health class and was too busy playing tetherball to catch all the talk in elementary recess, here's a little informative clip.



A good start gone bad.

Ha

You may remember the old Powerthirst video I put up while back. Well those crazy bastards are back, and their thirst is somehow more powerful.

I wish I could shoot bear heads out of my balls, thus killing other bears.

I hate Tony Kornheiser

That is, I would if I was a Buffalo Bills fan.
I don't feel like explaining myself, so here's a video.

Ha ha. Star Wars is fake.

268 Greatest Films: #39 Brick

Let's break out something in the top 50.

Brick takes the traditional "noir" movie genre and turns it on its ear by setting it in high school. It's more hard-boiled than anything that's come out since, uhhhh, let's say Chinatown.

It tells the tale of a loner named Brendan as he slowly unravels the mystery of his ex-girlfriends murder. It involves drugs, treachery, seduction and punching. Lots of punching.

The dialogue is unique -- not like anything you've heard in any movie that's come out in a long time. It's the kind of film that greatly rewards repeated viewings. Possibly while high.

Let's take a look at a clip, here's Brendan's first meeting with Dode.


Tagline: A detective story.

Plot Spoilers: Hrm, where too start. Well, Emily was pregnant ... Tug kills Dode ... that's all you're getting.

Notable Quotes:
Laura Dannon: [On the phone with Brendan] Who is this?
Brendan Frye: I won't waste your time: you don't know me.
Laura: I know everyone, and I have all the time in the world.
Brendan Frye: Ah, the folly of youth.

Laura: Do you trust me now?
Brendan: Less than when I didn't trust you before.

Brendan: [to the vice principal, played by Richard Roundtree of all people] No more of these informal chats! If you have a disciplinary issue with me, write me up or suspend me -- and I'll see you at the Parent-Teacher conference.

The Brain: Ask any dope rat where their junk sprang and they'll say they scraped it from that who scored it from this who bought it off so and after four or five connections the list always ends with the Pin. But I bet you got every rat in town together and said 'show your hands' if any of them've actually seen the Pin, you'd get a crowd of full pockets.

Brendan: I've got knives in my eyes, I'm going home sick.

The Pin: You read Tolkien?
Brendan: What?
The Pin: You know, the Hobbit books?
Brendan: Yeah.
The Pin: His descriptions of things are really good. He makes you wanna be there.

Brendan Frye: Maybe I'll just sit here and bleed at you.

Best Character: There are a lot of good choices here. Brendan is pretty obvious. Kara (played by Meagan Good) is a total piece of ass. The Pin is pretty cool, what with his love of Tolkien and van with a lamp in the back. But he lives with his mom, so I'm going to give this to Tug. The dude is simply a punching machine. He's the Pin's muscle, but then Brendan plays him like a fiddle and gets him into his corner, leading to the eventual showdown...

Another reason to see it: The fight between Brendan and Brad Bramish is one of my favorite scenes of all time. Brad Bramish is going to do what needs to get done indeed.

This is a disaster

"You can't Hoard fun. It has no shelf life."
-Hunter S. Thompson

Congratulations to the winners of the 2007 Beard and Moustache championships.

Apparently the whole "Don't tase me bro!" thing is all deep and shit, and is a classic example of a hip catchphrase. I think my use of it falls the hip nostalgic nihilistic phase. Either that or its hilarious to see a dude get tased.

I have something in my notes for this post called "nightmare fuel" and I forget what it refers too, I think it was something specific. This is probably ill-advised, but lets see what we can turn up through a little google search ... OH GOD WHY! KILL IT NOW! Yeah that's the end of that. Stupid lack of memory.

This reporter getting hit on is fucking hilarious.


The sacrilicious nature of this site intrigues me, kinda.

Thursday night is the night for the funny on TV apparently. I thoroughly enjoyed The Office and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Also worth noting is 30 Rock, complete with Jerry Seinfeld and gratuitous plugs for his new movie. It's a shame that show is too smart to be a hit. You can watch old episodes here.

I enjoyed this story about a stubborn old woman.

That's all I got, I'm going up to central Pennsylvania to get drunk in the middle of nowhere this weekend. Wish me luck.

That's a shame

Yeah, about those Phillies, they kind of sucked. One game down, three to go. At least I got to go out and "cover" the fans reaction during the game. Which means I went to the bar and had a few drinks while bullshitting with random patrons.

Anyway, here's two giraffes fighting. Ha ha.

Fight the power

M-V-P, M-V-P, M-V-P

Well here we are. It's October and the Phillies are inexplicably still alive. Despite missing Ryan Howard and Chase Utley for about a month each. Despite the presence of Adam Eaton (left off the playoff roster, thank god). Despite Charlie Manuel's midseason fight with a "noted" radio personality. Despite the bullpen's tendency for domestic abuse. Despite it all, and somehow in despite of history, the team will face God's team of destiny in the divisional round starting Wednesday.

I must admit, Wes Helms notwithstanding, I love this team. I want to gently hold it while it whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I want to spend all night walking with it on the streets of New York or perhaps Paris, sharing our deepest passions until the sun comes up. I want to put it in its butt.


It wasn't always this way. Earlier this summer the team earned derision for its 10,000th loss. As little as a month ago the thought of the Phillies overtaking the unstoppable juggernaut that was the New York Mets was implausible at best.

But then they swept those Mets. And then they swept them again. And then Jose Reyes realized that he is a bitch. And the Phillies line-up (sparked by Pat Burrell no less) started running through National League pitchers like a werewolf with a chainsaw for a dick.

They had 48 come from behind wins. Think about that for a second. Of their 89 wins, more than half came after they trailed. Of course when your pitching staff resembles a MASH unit for much of the year, it becomes necessary. Anybody remember Jon Lieber? How bout that Freddy Garcia signing? Praise Kyle Kendrick.

So now they face that other team that made an improbable run just to make the postseason. Chances are many a pitcher will want to tap out after a few to many innings in the two best hitters parks in baseball. But anything can happen. They have the opportunity. Despite the presence of Dane Cook, I cannot wait. Go Phils.

Oh yeah, and if you haven't seen it, check out Mr. Met's ill-fated suicide attempts, followed by an assist from the Phanatic in this sketch from Conan.

phillies fever

It's true, Victorino is the Phillies creationist Jesus. I have no idea what that means.

Also, if anyone wants to talk/be quoted in a story about the Phillies, hit me up on my cell Tuesday.

I'll have something more coherent on the Phils before Game 1.

Run from the memories

Consider this a belated/shitty edition of the phriday philler. The last thing I want is the curse of TMoney* to ruin the Phils chances at the postseason.

The Saturday loss coupled with the Mets win has Phillies fans everywhere ringing their hands with great vigor. Suddenly the sure thing that was the Mets collapse does not seem so certain. The possibility of a the Phillies straight-up missing the playoffs (by one game again no less, I fucking called it) has everyone remembering so many failed attempts in years past. Chico Ruiz=Matt Chico. *shudder*

Ah well, best not to think about all that too much. No whammies. Here a few things I came across in the past couple days.

First, you may remember the UF "Don't tase me bro!" guy. And in the natural progression of life, somebody remixed that with MC Hammer. Of course they did.


Haha, monkeysphere. Pirate Monkey named Slappy, that's pure gold.

Remember even if your sports team loses, there is always after hours parties. That is if you aren't stuck in domestic bliss. In which case you can go shopping with your wife instead. Suckers.

OK that's it. I'm going to go root root root for the home team.

*There is no such thing as the curse of TMoney. Yet.

BURRELL BOMB

Go Cards and Brewers. That is all.

248 greatest films of all time: #213 Army of Darkness

Back before Sam Raimi was the director of the Spider-man flicks, he was best known for his "Evil Dead" trilogy, capped off by this epic.

Granted, the production values aren't the best, I think the skeleton budget was about $600 -- which works out to about 30 cents per skeleton.

Some may call it corny, but it's also one of the most eminently watchable movies ever, evidenced by the 400 times it was watched on the ghetto VCR in college.

Here's a clip from fairly early in the film, watch for the the chainsaw and Ash's Indiana Jones-like ability to use his belt as a whip.

Tagline: Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas.

Plot Spoilers: Evil follows Ash to the past, where he awakens it by taking the Necronomicon or something. He leads a bunch of middle ages dudes in battle using the assortment of future technology he has in the trunk of his oldsmobile (including chemistry tesxtbooks for some reason) eventually fighting off the evil menace. Also there is an evil version of Ash leading the "deadites" who suffers death by catapult.

Best Character: Ummm, is there really a question? It's everyone's favorite S-Mart employee, Ash. Shit he is arguably one of the biggest badasses ever. The ridiculous number of one-liners he delivers would make 1980s-era Arnold Schwarzenegger blush.

Notable Quotes:
Ash: Gimme some sugar, baby.

[after shooting King Arthur's sword in half]
Ash: Ok you Primitive Screwheads, listen up! You see this? This ... is my boomstick! The 12-gauge double-barreled Remington. S-Mart's top of the line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop smart. Shop S-Mart. You got that?

Sheila: But what of all those sweet words you spoke in private?
Ash: Oh that's just what we call pillow talk, baby, that's all.

Duke Henry: You're not one of my vassals... who are you?
Ash: Who wants to know?
Duke Henry: I am Henry the Red. Duke of Shale, Lord of the Northlands and leader of its peoples.
Ash: Well hello Mister Fancypants. Well, I've got news for you pal, you ain't leadin' but two things: Jack and shit... and Jack just left town.

Evil Ash: You'll never retrieve the Necronomicon! You'll die before ya get it!
Ash: Hey! What's that you got on your face?
Evil Ash: Huh?
[Ash throws dirt on Evil Ash's face]

Ash: [fires shotgun] Go ahead and run. Run home and cry to momma! I'm going to stay here and fight it out! Who's with me!
Arthur: Are all men from the future loud-mouthed braggarts?
Ash: Nope. Just me baby... Just me.

Skeleton: Let's get the hell out of here!

Another reason to see it: At one point the undead army is marching into battle and the skeletons are playing musical intruments made out of, get this, other skeletons! Plus, the members of the undead army die in increasingly ridiculous ways. If you have never seen a skeleton turn to the camera and scream effeminately after being lit on fire, this is your chance.

Damn it

You see what happens, TMoney? You see what happens? This is what happens when I get my hopes up about the Phillies. This is what happens.

Walter Sobchak aside, it's like their playoff chances are decided by some sort of giant dice rolling down a mountain in Greenland. How will it end? We'll just have to wait and see.


Also, I am definitely rooting for the folks over at the pee your pants for the Brewers campaign.

It's on like voltron

Six games. Half a fucking dozen. That's all there is. Win 'em all and it's playoffs. This is the year?

The Padres are imploding. Thanks to my friend and yours Milton Bradley, their season is scrabbled their postseason hopes are at risk they aren't acting like hungry hungry hippos in regards to the playoffs.

Just saying, it's nice to see another team imploding. I am not in anyway assuming that the Phillies are going to make the playoffs. That would be foolish. No whammies.

What the F?

Note to self: Trying to get into "Heroes" by watching the first episode of the second season with absolutely no concept of the various plotlines doesn't work, and in fact is horribly confusing.


That said, here is a video that is vaguely Halo-related, because Halo 3 comes out in about an hour and a half. Anyone want to lend me $500 so I can buy an XBox 360 and the "legendary edition" complete with helmet? No? I hate you.

What the world needs now

Welcome to another edition of phriday philler, bitches. Hope you all enjoyed digging up your mother's corpse for the jewelry. Just keep telling yourself it's better than being married to Danny DeVito.

Did you know scientists discovered some sort of fungus living in the Chernobyl reactor this past spring that feeds on gamma radiation? I just hope they don't make it angry.

Freedarko has been keeping me wildly entertained this past week. Here's a passage from a recent post about the "stat wars":

Then, this Kirilenko situation. It's been like finding evidence of a furry dinosaur, or uncovering the tomb where Martians fell. Without resorting to any hyperbole, for there is no need for it in the hour of fulfillment: Andrei Kirilenko is the player of tomorrow. More than Garnett or Durant, he marks a turn in the game that is as material as it is conceptual or speculative.

Indeed. It's also true that Kirilenko is powered by radiation and was conceived in space by two cosmonauts.

Elsewhere in sports, Donovan McNabb provided the one of the best defense/explanation of his race remarks on his blog. Get it from the source, but keep it in context.

Maybe you heard about the blowback from MoveOn.org's "General Betray-us" ad in the New York Times. Well it all culminated in G-Dub calling the ad "disgusting" and Congress voting against it. Not really sure how you vote against an advertisement that has already appeared in a newpaper, but whatever. Not everyone is happy that those clowns in Washington are voting on irrelevant amendments while there is a fucking war on. And it may end well?

On a lighter note, the list-tacular cracked.com is always good to exponentially kill some time at work. For example their list of the 8 best webcomics was pretty good. Plus that list had the Perry Bible Fellowship, which is fucking ridiculous. Also this:

That's it for this week. Enjoy your weekend -- I'm will spend mine learning how to crank that.

Don't tase me, bro!

Have you heard about the University of Florida student who was tased at the John Kerry speech? It has been all over the web recently. Some call it another act of police brutality and example of "Amerika's new police state." Others say that the kid is a total jackass who got what was coming to him.

I'm undecided at this point. The kid was trying to make a scene, and clearly he's a jackass. But does that warrant a tasering? Police are allowed to fuck you up just because you are acting a fool? I kind of wish the kid was black so this would be an even bigger deal.

Nevertheless, we can all thank the young man for introducing the phrase "Don't tase me, bro!" into the cultural lexicon.

Deathmatch Listoff: Favorite players to heckle in left field at Citizens Bank Park on Sundays

Matt Stairs (Toronto Blue Jays)

This dude got a beating for no other reason than he plays left field for a team that beat us in the 1993 World Series (damn you Joe Carter). That and supposedly his last name is the same thing he should take more often. Being called a fat ass by a dude choking down a greasy cheesesteak must be the ultimate diss.

Pat Burrell (Philadelphia Phillies)

Considering we're a town that throws snowballs at Santa Clause, it shouldn't be surprising that we don't back down at hassling the shit out of our own players. Especially when he is making a team-leading $13M this year and he can't chase down a fly ball to save his life. Regardless, he's always met with pomp and circumstance upon returning to the field after blasting a Burrell Bomb. He needs to beat his wife more. Inappropriate? Worked out pretty well for Brett Myers.



Milton Bradley (San Diego Padres)

Milton Bradley hates Philly because Philly hates Milton Bradley because we can. Milt was a bit flamboyant on his home run trot during an earlier game and the fans made sure to remind him that he wasn't in southern Cali. Sympathy? Try calling Darryl Strawberry and ask him how it felt getting pelted by batteries. I'm sure he'll tell you how a little coke goes a long way in easing those pains. I digress. Milton "not the game company" Bradley tried his hand at flapping his jaw back at the crowd a few times while in left field. Good thinking.


Matt Diaz (Atlanta Braves)

I think Diaz really enjoyed our heckling. Several times we noticed him slapping his glove against his knee to the beat of our "You suck Diaz!" chant. But the real fun part about this dude was the pronunciation of his last name. Most people assumed "Dee-az" instead of the proper "Die-az" and it pissed the living shit out of a black-hat wearing douche in our row. Then when said douche try to heckle the hecklers regarding the proper way to pronounce his name, the focus turned to him. Chants of "You suck Diaz" were traded in for "You suck black hat." I'm sure Matt "don't call me 'Dee-az'" Diaz appreciated your support, black hat. Extra kudos to Mr. Diaz in flicking off the girl in the front row. Yes, the one with the nice "smile."



Alfonso Soriano (Chicago Cubs)

Alfonso was one of the top stars to pick daisy in left field during a Sunday home game at The Bank. A year earlier, while he was in the midst of a 40/40 season and approaching free-agency, Philly fans were more interested in getting Mr. Soriano to slip into a Phillies uniform, but with his high-dollar deal in the windy city, he received his fair share of shit. He, too, decided to talk shit back to the fans. Come on, Alfonso, you'll only make us more pissed at you. Even the old lady a few seats down from me removed her dentures to tell you to blow it out your ass. You should know better.



Honorable Mention (i.e., he who doesn't play day games after evening games)

Hmmm. There is a well-heckled baseball player who plays left fiend for a team that played the Phightins during the weekend that wasn't mentioned. Who could it be? If my memory serves me correctly, he broke a major record this year. Unfortunately Barry was out of the lineup on the Sunday when the Giants were in town (Shane Victorino day). In his defence, it was also raining that day. If he did play, I would have thanked him for the elevated value of his rookie card that I have.

A Philadelphia fan's lament

If you read this blog, you probably know I am a fan of pretty much all things Philadelphia sports. For this I blame my father. Taking a impressionable kid to Phillies and Eagles playoff games tends to have a lasting effect. Especially when the teams lose.


So, yeah, I am die-hard for the Phils and Birds, and have been since the early '90s. This is problematic, because I hate the typical Philadelphia fan. Call it self-loathing, call it elitist, call it masochism, I don't know. I have gotten into the agony of the Philadelphia sport scene before, but that was a self-centered look at my own fandom. I didn't consider how much I resent my association with general louts.

In case you are unaware of the Philly fan mythology, let me clue you in -- we booed santa claus, repeatedly ran all-star players out of town, hate prima donnas and cowboys, and have little to no tolerance for athletes who make it look easy. Also, the vocal majority are a bunch of clowns. Morons if you will. Take the whole "booing McNabb" thing for instance. I have heard defenses that we are booing "the organization" or whatever, but that is fucking dogshit. The man has been pure class for a team with a less than glorious history, and he gets no slack at all? Grow the fuck up.

And now it begins again with the whole Real Sports interview where Donovan says black quarterbacks are held to a different standard than their white counterparts. Fans are going to call him a baby, a whiner, and maybe even a prima donna. Guess what losers racists, you are just proving him right. If his hometown fans don't even support him after a crazy-fast comeback from knee surgery, four NFC championship games and one Super Bowl appearance, what do you think rival fans are gonna do? Look at San Francisco in its support for Barry Bonds. The man is clearly an asshole and a steroid user, but they cheer him anyway. After all, he's their asshole steroid user.


And don't get me started on the ridiculous number of fairweather douchebags that have come out of the woodwork during the Eagles recent run of success and since the opening of the Phillies beautiful new stadium. I'm not sure which I detest more, the number of times I hear "bro" at Citizen's Bank Park or the shrieking of the low-hanging fruit that is female eagle fans. You fucks are goddamn frontrunners and you know it. Remember the Ray Rhodes era? How bout Gregg Jefferies? My fellow fans disgust me.

As I said before, this is a problem. I have tried to reconcile my feelings toward my fellow fans. They don't know any better, I tell myself. Just because they didn't suffer through the late-90s dark ages of Philly fandom, that doesn't make them bad people. But it does make them bad fans. They weren't there when Doug Petersen was starting quarterback in the first year of Andy Reids tenure. They weren' t there when Doug fucking Glanville was the Phillies best offensive threat. Sure most were aware of the fact that the local team kinda sucks, but they didn't feel it. They didn't scare the family dog by screaming at Ty Detmer to throw the fucking ball more than 10 yards.

OK, maybe I am overreaching a bit here. I'm sure there are other Philly sports fans that are far more die-hard than myself. And others (maybe) that treat those on the field with some modicum of respect, or at least don't boo all-pros. But sweet merciful jebus why can't we just support our team in a healthy way? Not too harp on the whole McNabb thing, but do we really think its helpful to boo him? Nevermind the fact that he is the best QB in the history of this dirty-ass city -- it can't be good for the man's psyche. A psyche on which the success of our team likely rests.


Well I'm about ranted out at this point. I would like to mention that I have been trying to adopt a more freedarko-style "enlightened fandom" point of view -- rooting for a style of play or whatever, its all kind of vague. But that is near impossible when you have such ingrained loyalties in certain sports. It works sort of with NBA, ie the Warriors last year, but that's just because I have never lived and died by a sixers score. The run to the finals in 2001 was nice, but they have never been a very likeable team in the past 20 years, AI and Sir Charles notwithstanding.

BEWARE ... WEAPON X

Apparently that is the name of Dawkins' alter ego, seen in the picture above attacking one Clinton Portis' many alter egos. If you missed the pregame piece where BDawk brandishes wolverine claws, well you really missed out. He has healing factor!

I may or may not get some sort of lazy-ass liveblog going here, we shall see.
This has got to be the most homerific booth ever. Kornheiser just went on a ridiculous monologue about how he loves Joe Gibbs and wants to softly stroke his hair, and Jaworski pretty much bleeds Eagles green, having lead them to the super bowl and all. I can only hope this ends with Jaws telling Kornheiser he slept with his wife.

Haha Reno Mahe is getting the biggest cheers out of any of the Eagles. Fielding punts is serious business. That crazy Tongan bastard shares a bloodline with former Eagles punt returner turned local sportscaster Vai Sikahema, that's how you know he's good.

Donovan just scrambled but he is now slow, Eagles punt. I'd like to take this opportunity to question the blatant racial epithet that is the Redskins team name. I mean, isn't "redskin" pretty much a slur? It's not like the somewhat ambiguous Warrior" or an actual native american tribe, "Illini. Just saying. It's not as bad as the "New Orleans N*ggers" (it's a chocolate city?) but I don't think that "Chicago Degos" or "Los Angeles Wallbiters" would go over so well. Nips.

Ugh, this game is boring. Control the clock eh? Fuck you Joe Gibbs! I'm going to entertain myself by watching this video of Rob Stone straight pimping Julie Foudy and Heather Mitts live on air. I envy Rob Stone right now.


Huzzah, a bit of a drive. Future all-pro Jason Avant makes a nice catch falling out of bounds on third down, followed by a couple nice runs by Westbrook. Meanwhile, Andy Reid's family life is in shambles, like anyone cares. Garrett Reid just blew a line in the bathroom of a dive bar in Norristown.

Greg Lewis caught a little screen pass for three yards and got booed. Thats what he gets for muffing a punt. He probably has to gain about 50 yards before the fans will forget that. Meanwhile, Mike Tirico thinks the boos are because of the playcall. Mike Tirico is a moron.

Just checked in on the Phillies. They are beating the hell out of St. Louis. It will be unfortunate when they miss the wild card by one game. Can I place a bet on that? Seriously, I'll consider even odds with anyone that they finish one game out. It's what they do. In other news, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONOVAN COMPLETE A PASS. The clock is ticking, from what I hear.

Gah its halftime and I think this post is done. What a glorious game. It's 10-6 Redskins thanks to the last minute TD from Chris Cooley. I don't really mind losing to a guy who did 21 shots of Jim Beam, even if that story is likely made up.

For yourmy halftime entertainment, here's this video from the onion. Domestic violence=hilarity!

Sexy Doodle Dandy

Some of the best films are foreign.



Eagles take on the Foreskins tonight in a classic NFC East matchup. Go birds!



That's all for now.

254 greatest movies of all time: #116 &117 Kill Bill

I was inspired by watching the last hour of Commando to do another one of these. Not on Commando of course, gotta delay the top ten til later. Just kidding, Commando isn't in the top ten. Or is it?

So lets take a look at the Kill Bill movies. Mmmmm, ultra-stylized violence. I'm sure it won't be the last time Quentin Tarantino makes an appearance in these completely arbitrary rankings. In fact I'd wager all his films could find themselves here sooner or later (except maybe grindhouse, which I haven't seen).

I am putting the Kill Bill movies together because of the whole "one narrative" thing, but they take up two spots. Lets say Vol. 2 is slightly better so thats your #116.

I've heard the first volume described as an western eastern and the second described as a eastern western. I have no idea what that means, but you can see the influences of spaghetti westerns, martial arts and samurai movies. Also, this movie is further proof that the RZA is the man (he did the score).

First lets take a look at a clip. This is the part where the bride takes out like 50 dudes in five minutes.

And because I can't enough of the kickass fight scenes, here's the showdown between the Bride and Elle Driver.


Tagline: Revenge is a dish best served cold

Plot Spoilers: The bride kills everybody on her list, including Bill with the five point palm exploding heart technique. Her name is Beatrix Kiddo and she reunites with her daughter at the end.

Best Character: Oh man this is tough. So many options. Of course in a movie where all the characters are assassins that is to be expected. The bride seems too obvious. O-Ren Ishii and Go-Go warrant mentioning. But I'm going to have to go with the old man, Pai Mei. From the first story Bill tells of his killing 60-some monks because of one perceived slight to his death via poisoned fish heads, the shaolin master keeps it real with his ridiculous moustache. Not to mention his whole 3-inch punch training ends up saving the Bride's ass when she is buried alive.


Notable Quotes:
The Bride: How did you find me?
Bill: I'm the man.

[looking at the Bride in her coma]
Buck: Price is $75 a fuck, my friend. You getting your freak on, or what?
Trucker: Oh yeah, boy.
[gives Buck the money]
Buck: Now here are the rules. Rule Number One: no punching her. The nurse comes in tomorrow and she got a shiner or less some teeth, jig's up. So, no knuckle sandwiches under no circumstances. And by the way, this little cunt's a spitter. It's a motor-reflex thing. But spit or not, no punching. Now, are we absolutely, positively clear on Rule Number One?
Trucker: Yeah.
Buck: Good. Now, Rule Number Two: no monkey bites, and no hickeys. In fact, no leaving no marks of any kind on her. After that, it's all good, buddy. Now, her plumbing down there don't work no more, so feel free to come in her all you want. Keep the noise down, try not to make a mess. I'll be back in twenty.
[Buck starts to leave, but snaps his fingers and turns back]
Buck: Oh, shit! By the way, not every time but sometimes this chick's cooch will get drier than a bucket of sand. If she's dry, just lube up with this,
[tosses him a jar labeled "VasaLube"]
Buck: and you'll be good to go. Bon Appetite, good buddy.

Budd: She's got a Hanzo sword?
Bill: He made one for her.
Budd: Didn't he swear a blood oath to never make another sword?
Bill: It would appear he has broken it.
Budd: Them Japs sure know how to hold a grudge.
[laughs]
Budd: Or maybe, you just tend to bring that out in people.

[Esteban, an 80-year-old pimp, appraises The Bride]
Esteban Vihaio: If I had met you forty years ago, you would have been my Number One lady.
The Bride: Well, I'm flattered.
Esteban Vihaio: You goddamn better well be.

The Bride: Go-Go, I know you feel you must protect your mistress. But I beg you, walk away.
[Go-Go giggles girlishly]
Go Go Yubari: You call that begging? You can beg better than that.

Another reason to see them: As with most Tarantino movies, the music is totally amazing. In passing I'll mention the 5,6,7,8s performance in the house of blue leaves; Elle Driver whistling "Twisted Nerve" on her way to poison the bride; and the outstanding use of "Battle without honor or humanity" throughout. Also, there's lots of blood.

What's up, bitches!

"It's always sunny in Philadelphia" is back. I'm going to go out on a limb and say its the funniest show on television. So far over the line on a regular basis. The office ain't got shit on it.

I think my favorite episode is the one where they get the old Nazi gear. Either that or the one where Charlie pretends to have cancer. It's like the anti-Friends. Warms the cockles of my godless soul.

Anyway -- check out this web episode to get primed for the new season.

Monkey Robots!

This may very well be the greatest thing in the history of the world.
But the scientists better be careful how they develop this technology, lest monkey-robot hybrids run amok and conquer the world as foretold in the Bible.

The man on the street can eat a dick

Yeah you heard me. In case you don't know what I mean by "man on the street" it's the shit in your local newspaper where some random jerk comments on a big national story. This is often called "localizing"

And I fucking hate doing it. I don't want to talk to random people. I am anti-social except when I'm drunk or on drugs. Why do you think I blog?

Today, for example, I had to go out and ask people about what they think about the sixth anniversary of the Sept. 11. Are you suffering from 9/11-mourning fatigue? Do you think they've done enough to catch Bin Laden? Is there any more meaningless anniversary than 6th? Have you ever hijacked an airplane? And so on.

I guess maybe I should have considered this before I became a reporter. Fourth estate my ass. Is it good that I hate the media as a member of the media? Grah. At least I'm not Chuck Storm.

Wherefore art thou, Jeremy Bloom?

I couldn't watch the entire Eagles-Packers game, because I was at work. Well I did watch the first half in its entirety because I was the only person in the newsroom. But then the enormously fat copy editor waddled in wheezing like a bastard.

Rather than engage in conversation with the 500 pound man while he devoured an entire 20-piece bucket from KFC, I went back to my desk. He then inexplicably changed the channel to the Phillies. I caught snippets of the second half, but fortunately missed the ending field goal.

So I'll avoid making any in depth analysis of the game, except to say -- Greg Lewis, WHY? Did you forget your crack? Seriously the guy is a dead ringer for Tyrone Biggums. Too bad the game was in crack-free Green Bay. If only they flew into Milwaukee, he could have run down to the corner. Then with his crack-fueled super senses he never would have muffed that punt in the first quarter, allowing the Pack their only touchdown.

Also, I'm pretty sure JR Reed had his leg amputated like 2 years ago. I guess it grew back? Like a starfish?

Yeah I don't have a point. Congrats Green Bay, maybe this week one victory will finally avenge 4th and 26. Can Freddie Mitchell can return kicks? I'm pretty sure he's available.

Anyway my (red)hat's off to Brett Favre and the rest of the Packers. You managed to take advantage of the Eagles' miscues and win your home opener. Surely Favre will get some robot parts installed midseason and guide that scrappy group of youngsters to the playoffs.

But beware Purple Jesus. He is a vengeful Jesus.

Cardiac Cats ... back?

If there is one thing to be learned from Northwestern's come from behind twice win over the ferocious Nevada Wolfpack this afternoon, it is that you cannot stop CJ Bacher, you can only hope to contain him.

At this point Bacher has a real chance to establish his place amongst the great NU quarterbacks of the past half-century. In other words, Brett Basanez and Zak Kustok. Shit, he's even got a weird name. Plus all 8 people with access to the Big Ten Network could watch him lay waste to the Nevada defense with his array of competent passing and shifty running.

Without stud running back Tyrell Sutton for most of the day due to a bum ankle, Bacher and the offense overcame a 24-10 halftime deficit, and then orchestrated the game-winning touchdown drive, marching 80 yards in less than a minute. Nice.

On the other hand, the 'Cats complete inability to stop the "devastating" straight-ahead running of Luke Lippincott meant problems all day, no moreso than when he busted one up the middle for a TD with 3:38 to play. Longtime NU fans I'm sure will be *SHOCKED* at an apparent lack of run defense.

This is classic Wildcat football, dynamic offense coupled with a bend and sometimes break D. It's got me dreaming of a bowl appearance, perhaps the Champs Sports Bowl. As long as its not that bullshit in Detroit I'll be happy.

So here's looking forward to next week's game against Duke, which is being played at 7 pm for some reason. After that they head to The Horseshoe and their first loss of the season. But then they've got Michigan in a possibly winnable game considering how the Wolverines have been playing. Chad Henne sucks.

Phriday Philler

Someday I will become a god among bros.


Heard rumors that The Wire is coming back on January 6. Finally, I have something to live for. Not sure how accurate that exact date is as I saw it in the comments section over at FreeDarko, but I'm going to go ahead and assume its true. Good stuff from the Washington Post, who was there on the final day of shooting. Gotta keep the devil down in the hole.

Speaking of freedarko, the latest post over there raises some interesting points. ie did you know the Shaq apparently is Muslim? Shocking that the NBA doesn't play that up more. Louis Farrakhan is widely accepted as mainstream by now right?

Gah its been a slow week and I'm fried. So here's a video of a dude lighting a firecracker in his mouth. He'd be stupid not too.



Later on kids -- I'm going to go rig up a homemade spoiler for my car. Enjoy the weekend.

It's hard out here for a pimp

/nuff said

midweek pablum

Once again the creative juices are running on empty on humpday. So that means either a Onion news video or something I can find on YouTube in five minutes.
Lets go with this "Hipster Olympics" jawn that has made the rounds a bit. It's from the comedy troupe POYKPAC, which apparently stands for "Pictures of your kids pooping and crying."

PURE garbage

I came across an article on the AP wire last week about how clubs are paying celebrities to make appearances. Central to the article is PURE, which is the fucking abortion of a nightclub at Caesars Palace.

A little background: When I attended Metzger's bachelor party in Vegas, we "got the hookup" which allowed us to enter said club and get a VIP table. What they don't tell you is that you have to get bottle service at the table, with a 4 bottle minumum. You may think that paying $400 for a bottle of absolut or Johnny Walker RED would make you enjoy it more. It doesn't.

dr.gpiece and I enjoy our time as VIPs

I must admit it was kind of cool to sit in the VIP section, with our own bouncer. He even brought girls over to us, so they could look on with disdain while doing $25 shots of booze. Sound bitter? Well I am. If memory serves only one person at the party got any play that night, and it was with some sort of local hippie.

My point is Pure sucks, and should be avoided at all costs. I would actually pay money NOT to go there at this point. Granted "clubs" aren't really my scene -- what with the turbos and overpriced drinks -- but it's hard for me to badmouth anywhere that serves alcohol and has hot women.

When I spotted the article on the AP wire -- little free advertising for a place I wish would host a Great White concert -- I died a little inside. It details how Paris Hilton and Britney Spears were paid more money than I make in five years to party at the club for one night. From the article:

"It's fun to be famous and rich. That's why people pay to get in and watch," said Lori Levine, the president of Flying Television, a talent-booking firm in New York.
"If you go to a club to see one of the 'It' girls, you take a photo on your phone and you'll have a story to tell for the rest of the summer," she said.

Nevermind that Lori Levine is only quotable because she gobbles cock like its scrambled eggs, but taking picture of Paris on my camera phone (note: I do not have a camera phone) would entertain me all summer? Only if she adds "me fucking" and by "entertain me all summer" she means "necessitate a prescription for Valtrex."

The article goes on to talk about appearance fees for NBA players and Britney Spears passing out at the club to much fanfare. Honestly, I want to say "good on you" to these celebrities who can get paid just to party. They are taking advantage of a severely fucked up system, and likely will blow whatever funds they get on strippers, drugs and child support.

But for those that go to these clubs just to see some untalented it girl or black man who can dunk, I say fuck you. You are the reason the terrorists hate us. And that goes double for all the sycophantic douchebags in the media who slobber the metaphorical knobs of the latest "stars." It's one thing to give appropriate adulation to someone with real talent, an artist that can make you realize something new and unique about the world. It's another to treat a no-talent slut/hack like Paris Hilton or Dane Cook* like they are above the law.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to prepare for an interview with Bam Margera.


*Seriously, I saw Vicious Circle last week. I was stoned and laughed once.

A-TRAIN DROPPED THE BALL

On a day when michigan lost to a Division I-AA Football Championship Subdivision team, I just want to remember that magical fall of 2000. Santana made music magic with Rob Thomas, Scary Movie was redefining comedy, the frat was still more than two years away from "whale-gate" and I watched Northwestern beat Big Blue in one of the most ridiculous games in college football history.



So congrats to you, Appalachian State Mountaineers. With this win and locking down the enrollment of Miss Teen South Carolina, you are putting yourselves on the map. South Africa.

Also as an aside -- Comcast needs to stop the pissing the contest with the Big Ten over the broadcast rights. Y'all fucking rape my wallet every month already, just show me the goddamn games. I am get the sports tier already, jerks! Sure I could go out to a bar with DirectTV to get my fill of CJ Bacher and Tyrell Sutton, but then I would have to leave my apartment. Rant Over.