SURVIVOR: CRAMAZON part four

So I'm late.

If you need to catch up, you'll find the

First part here.
Second part here
Third part here.

NIGHT 15

TOMMYBOY TRIBE:

Children Of A Lesser Gripe is upset over Heidi-Ho's switch vote resulting in the removal of Executive Annoyance last episode. Massah Massengill feeds her a line of BS to calm her nerves, emoting on how much she 'brings to the tribe'. She is completely sucked in by anyone who compliments her.

DAY 16

TOMMYBOY:

Heidi-Ho, looking increasingly Ethiopian, sulks over the fact that the fellas are still sticking together all the time and not looking at her expensive boobs.

JABBERJAWS:

Skeletor brushes his choppers, followed by Magic Goof Ball and Whizzer, ALL OF THEM USING THE SAME BRUSH. That means there's three different varieties of plaque and jungle tooth funk on the bristle. Power Dyke thinks the guys are all 'fascinating', and relays this timeless bit of wisdom to Skeletor: "Girls are different than boys". Whizzer and Ms. Frizz grow closer, and romance is in the air...along with the thick stench of unwashed feet, underarms, and ass cracks.

LUXURY CHALLENGE

It's a log rolling contest. A revolving cylinder is suspended over a large mud puddle. One person from each tribe (same sex) will attempt to knock the other off and mudify them. The first tribe to five points wins. Skeletor douches Massah Massengill for Jabberjaws first point. Ms. Frizz soaks Heidi-Ho for Jabberjaws second point. Gung Whoa tumbles Whizzer for Tommyboy's first point. Mr. Weatherbee floats Magic Goof Ball for Tommyboy's second point. Children Of A Lesser Gripe walks Stupormodel down the aisle to Tommyboy's third point. Whizzer squirts Massah Massengill (nearly breaking a kneecap in the process) for jabberjaws third point. Ms. Frizz gives Heidi-Ho a taste of mud for Jabberjaws fourth point. Weatherbee scrapes Skeletor's rib bones to give Tommyboy their fourth point. Children Of A Lesser Gripe mudpies Stupormodel, giving Tommyboy the winning fifth point.

Tommyboy wins spices to flavor up the Amazonian Bisquick they've been eating, along with an assortment of scurvy-preventing fruit. Heidi-Ho needs to rub some of that on her bajoobies, so the flesh will regenerate around the now-highly visible saline containers.

DAY 16

JABBERJAWS

Stupormodel states that no one in the tribe cares about losing the reward challenge, and everyone is just faking all those dejected looks. The tribe takes a bath together, Whizzer clearly enjoying Ms. Frizz's fingers running through his back hair. Ms. Frizz tells the camera that it's all just good business, giving the men erections so that the blood will draw away from their brains and they'll be too stupid to vote her off. This bathtime is the highlight of Magic Goof Ball's life.

TOMMYBOY

Heidi-Ho eats a piece of fruit and one rib recedes back into her torso. Mr. Weatherbee strokes Children Of A Lesser Gripe's ego YET AGAIN, telling her that watching her win was a 'defining moment' in his life. Sad, sad life, that Weatherbee has led. The rest of the tribe collectively rolls their eyes so hard at this saccharine sentimentality that the breeze created flutters through the 'Believe In Yourself!' banner Weatherbee brought along as his personal luxury item.

JABBERJAWS

Down by the river, Magic Goof Ball makes a deal with Power Dyke. The deal is: Magic Goof Ball, Power Dyke, Heid-Ho, and Stupormodel will ally themselves to eliminate all others, making the quartet the infamous 'final four' of Survivor legend. It is decided amongst the Dark Council that Skeletor's might is needed, so underlord Magic Goof Ball aproaches him with an offer to join the Black Allegiance. Skeletor has no idea that Magic Goofball is playing him like an inbred hillbilly plays the banjo on a bridge. Magic Goof Ball tells the camera that Skeletor is a dope, and as soon as he stops catching fish or doing their evil bidding he's gone.

NIGHT

Ms. Frizz decides three guys fawing over her every move during daylight hours isn't enough, so she invents a campfire 'game' where each of them will describe in detail a perfect date with her. Skeletor uses this excuse to try and slither his way into Frizz's heart, as he is working under the genuinely pathetic assumption that he has chance in hell with her. God, he really is a dope. Frizz opines into the camera about how much she 'needs' the men around - AKA how much she needs them slobbering about how pretty she is 24 hours a day.

DAY 18

JABBERJAWS

Whizzer is growing annoyed with the way Skeletor is cuddling up on Frizz's body during the all-day nap the three of them are taking. Power Dyke sees this ploy by Ms. Frizz as a potential threat to The Dark Council.

IMMUNITY CHALLENGE

Two humongous slabs of partially cooked beef hang suspended by hooks. Each tribe (each individual's hands tied behind their back) will attempt to tear off hunks of beef with their teeth and spit them into baskets. At the end of ten minutes, the team with the most saliva-coated regurgitated flesh clotted together wins. How may starving people are there in the world right now, do you suppose?

Hi-Lites: Weatherbee gets clocked in the face with the dinosaur-sized bone protruding from the slab of meat. Skeletor spits and misses the basket completely, then licks the dirty meat back up off the floor. Weatherbee uses his mouth to pull a piece of meat trapped in Massah Massengill's teeth, providing the homoerotic moment for this episode. Heidi-Ho nearly bites Massah Massengill's lip in half 'trying to help'.

TOMMYBOY wins the challenge, and immunity.

JABBERJAWS

The tribe has a confab, and Ms. Frizz offers herself up as a sacrifice. Whizzer states that he's voting for Skeltor since Ms. Frizz is one damned fine piece of ass and he hasn't had the chance to bag her yet. Okay, he actually said something along the lines of "she's come so far", but whatever. Magic Goof Ball complains to the camera that if Skeletor is removed from the tribe he will no longer be able to manipulate him in an evil manner.

TRIBAL COUNCIL

Whizzer uses his poetic description to emote that Ms. Frizz is "totally awesome". Skeletor "relishes the role of being provider". Magic Goof Ball admits he is only good for a laugh. Ms. Frizz says she is "glowing" now that testicles are a new feature of the tribe, and that she's "in it for the long haul" - which is a complete reversal from what she said just hours previous.

Votes are taken, counted, and:

THE TRIBE HAS SPOKEN

Ms. Frizz is dyed, fried, and laid to the side.

Next episode: THE MERGER (probably tomorrow, but I promised myself I'd stop making promises)

ALL RIGHT ALREADY

Okay, okay, sheesh. Everyone's clamoring for a recent picture of me, so here:



Happy?

Oh, Survivor is coming later. I have to watch the tape again. YES, I watch it twice - once for enjoyment, and once for you. Why? Because I love you. And I'm not just saying that so you'll give me head. Although I wouldn't object. And I'll call you tomorrow, I promise. Why would I lie? I JUST TOLD YOU I love you, and guys take those three little words very seriously. So come on. Please? Guys have needs, you know. Ever heard of Blue Balls? Did you know they can KILL a man if he doesn't get to release? No? All right then, screw it, I'm taking you home. No, don't talk to me. You're just being selfish. I wonder if your little friend with the nice ass might like to go out sometime. No, I think it WAS called for. You never think about what I want. I paid for that whole evening out, too. NO, I don't want 'your half'. If you keep talking I'm just gonna keep turning the stereo up. Damnit. There they go. It's just like being kicked in the nads over and over, but do YOU care? NO. So be quiet. Unless you're opening your mouth to say "Yes, Kevin, I will help you not die from exploding testicles", then I don't wanna hear it.

LIFE WAS LIKE A CHINESE FINGER TRAP, ONLY ONE FINGER WAS MY PENIS

That's going to be on my headstone - unless I opt for cremation, in which case keychains with that phrase inscribed will be handed out to the four people who may or may not show up at my funeral.

Last night I remained at work to patch a hole in a bathroom wall, 3 feet by 3 feet. This hole was behind both a toilet and a bathroom vanity. So, I had to cut circles for the pipes in the sheetrock, twist myself into peculiar shapes, and slot the section in through a particularly awkward angle. It was great, yoga without all the hot girlies around to distract you and make you feel all googy. I've never done yoga in my entire life, by the way, so that was a lie. Although I do feel googy around the girlies.

After many clever and inventive compound curse words I finished the task, came home, where I promptly ignored my blog. Since the apartment was scheduled to be cleaned this morning, and the move-in scheduled for Saturday morning, time was of the essence. I arose two hours earlier than usual, showered, shaved, ate a little something (because you should always eat a little something), and I don't remember any of it because I think I was still in REM sleep the whole time. The apartment was in the building next to mine. It's both a blessing and a curse that I live in the complex I do business with - the good things are I can sleep right up until five minutes before I have to go to work, leave whenever I want during the day, and set my own weekly work hours. THE BAD THING IS I NEVER GET TO DO ANY OF THAT. I make up for all this by sneaking up to my abode various times throughout the day to have a sip of soda, and maybe a little something to eat (because you should always eat a little something). This is why you might see comments from me during the middle of the day every now and again.

So I walk over to the building, tool in hand - hey, whatta ya know, that's how I spend my evenings, too - only to find the patch still damp. Something isn't right. You give any patching compound in the world twelve hours and it will dry. I used my razor-edged deduction skills and came to the conclusion that this was a result of the carpet cleaners. They'd steamed the carpet sometime after I'd left yesterday, and you could feel the moisture still heavy in the air.

I had many other tasks to perform today, so I set about them and reminded myself to check the patch later today. Fridays are a complete waste of time for me. Apartments are generally rented for Friday or Saturday morning, so my time is spent dashing about touching them up, last minute polish like covering waterstains which bled through as the paint dried, caulking and painting shoemold which was replaced, sanding and painting patches which had to dry, etc. The maintenance crew comes in after I've painted and 'fixes' things, which is completely ass-backwards if you ask me but no one ever does. I am left to return, paintbrush in hand, upwards of three different times to patch and paint whatever they've 'fixed'. There are long, fuming periods of waiting, for the stray piece of shoemolding, or new towel rack which had somehow been overlooked.

After lunch I returned to THE NEVERENDING APARTMENT, and surprise! Still wet! So, desperate to finish this job before I had to help the new tenants unload their truck, I decided to heat things up a bit. I turned the air conditioning on the highest heat setting, and turned the bathroom heater up until it glowed bright red. The bathroom heaters are the electric type which resemble a stove element affixed to your wall, and that's just the thing you need to accidentally back your naked wet ass cheeks into. I left the apartment this way for three more hours.

Again - still damp, although forming a dry crust over the top. I was forced to ask one of the maintenance guys to cut me a key, because I'd have to stay after they left. I finished my other duties, went home and took a short nap, then returned to find -

Yeah.

I had no choice. Using the lightest touch I was capable of, I sanded off the burred edges of my patching work, then carefully painted over the wall. It occurred to me at that moment why the patch was still wet: The source leak, the one the workmen had cut this 3x3 hunk of wall out and taken almost a whole day to fix, was still there.
A microscopic hole somewhere along the pipes, leaking just enough so that no puddles form, but keeping the wall damp evermore.

And now I have to go back AGAIN early tomorrow morning, to put a second coat of paint on this patch which is never ever going to completely dry. In a week (or less), I'll have to go back and patch the hole once more after it's been 'fixed' a second time, only this trip I will have the added bonus of angry tenants over my shoulder blaming me for the whole ordeal (that's what they do, every time). All because some other dope didn't do his job in the correct fashion. If it were up to me I would make whoever was in charge of repairing that leak stand there with his finger over the hole for the entire length of the new tenant's lease. Get thirsty, take your finger off the hole. Hungry? There'll be plenty of mold to chew on.

Sometimes it seems like my entire business consists of camouflaging someone else's fuckups.

Anyway, that's a small part of the reason why there haven't been a lot of updates recently, and why the ones I've squeezed in have been fairly weak. When I'm tired my already subpar writing ability drops below the Earth's crust. I'll get around to both Survivor Updates I owe you tomorrow, put up a new poll and tally the results of the old ones, and maybe (maybe) there'll be time for some other inanity as well. I finally have a day off.

Now I'm going over to Jim Treacher's blog and do a little catching up. He's been on a roll lately.

Menagerie Of The Grotesque

This really has nothing to do with the war or protesters or Michael Moore. Sort of. Maybe a little.

Well, don't that punch a cow in the udders - Now that I am getting more hits than ever before, my workload increases and I can hardly find the free time to come on here and embarrass myself. It's going to be like this from now until the end of summer - brief periods of quiet followed by intense bursts of spraypainting. So, posts will likely be short for a while. Which will please some of you to no end, undoubtedly. In fact, I would go so far as to say some of you hope my posts dwindle in size to perhaps three words per day maximum.

Oh, I owe you two Survivor updates. The first will go up tomorrow evening.

ANYWAY...

A couple of days ago I likened the 'Die-In' protesters to hognose snakes. Astute reader Ric Manhard sent me a nice email Sunday, with his own comparison:

I think the fainting goat is more apt than the hognose. I'll try to google
up a link: http://www.webworksltd.com/webpub/goats/faintinggoat.html
Which has the following relevant verbiage:
> The name "Fainting" goat is
> a bit misleading because they do not actually
> faint. They have a genetic problem with relaxing
> muscles. When they are startled or surprised
> their muscles lock up and the goat then sometimes
> falls over. Hence the name "Fainting"
> Goat.

Now, the first thought to skitter out of the dank, wet holes in my mind like a brown recluse avoiding a whisk broom was: I really, really want one of these.

I've always had an affinity for the truly wretched creatures, the malformed and seemingly useless life forms which have been delivered upon the Earth through either misbegotten evolution or God. I will tell you someday exactly why I have this love of freakish animals, when I have more time - just remind me.

One of these days, if luck drops a golden polished turd into my lap and I become rich, I hope to have a ranch. On this ranch I will herd the most horrid livestock imaginable, a Menagerie Of The Grotesque. Hence the title.

Any creature which spits, shits, oozes mucous, shoots blood out of a hidden orifice, emits an unearthly stench, issues forth piercing noises or howls, glows in the dark...all will have a home on my ranch. Nothing venomous in there, mind you. My wish is not to kill, simply to disgust.

And the best part is it would be a petting zoo.

"Why yes, you are certainly welcome to hold the Guatemalan Leaping Ejaculator Lizard. You may wish to put these safety glasses on first."

Part Wild Kingdom, part Gallagher Concert. Raincoats available at the door for a small fee.

I WANT ONE OF THESE, TOO...

Another fine fellow blogger, Bert from Bert's Blog, sent me the following link he himself found on Dave Barry's blog (Dave Barry needs no link from me - when he gets off his ass and links to me, THEN we'll talk):

''No one wanted to be known as the guy who broke the parrot,'' Shimonski said.

No guy has ever broken this particular Parrott, but I can say that many women have tried their level best.

WELL, OKAY, MAYBE ONE PROTEST JOKE

I'm like that little kid from your neighborhood who tags along a hundred yards behind everyone else when it comes to these things:

Remember the stories about the milk-swigging 'Vomit-In' protestors which you've probably read a jabillion times on other blogs by now? (scroll down the page, it's in there)

Well, I was just thinking a really good punishment for those jabronies would've been to dump cases of Cap'n Crunch, Cocoa Puffs, and Rice Crispies on the puddles, and make them all eat it back up. The Cocoa Puffs would've turned the vomit all chocolatey-rich, the Cap'n Crunch would have fucked up the roofs of their mouths, and the Rice Crispies....Snap, Crackle, and BLARRRRRFFFF.

OKAY, LAST ONE, I PROMISE, IT'S ALL OUT OF MY SYSTEM NOW

This is for Jim Treacher. His slogan is the one on the far right.



***I just noticed that Blogspot is slow as frozen molasses AGAIN. I can't wait until I gather up enough money to get the fuck away from this place. I will talk shit about them endlessly, and if I can keep just ONE person from signing up to a paying account with them, it will be worth it. Google buys you, AND YET YOU STILL SUCK ALL DAY LONG.***

The 75th Academy Awards #11

1. Best Adapted Screenplay goes to The Pianist. He thanks Roman Polanski, who can't come to the Oscars because apparently fucking a 13 year old girl is not smiled upon here. Best Original Screenplay goes to Talk To Her, and the guy who won looks like he borrowed Christopher Walken's vacuum cleaner when he was done. He also reads A Very Important Statement Of Peace from a crumpled piece of paper, dedicating his fucking Oscar to whoever the hell he thinks is oppressing the oppressed oppressively across this oppressive world of ours. Jeez, you'd think if it was that important he'd have bothered to memorize it.

2. Seriously - do you REALLY want to see THAT Harrison Ford doing another Indiana Jones? Come on, Mel Gibson turned down Gladiator because he thought he was too old, and he's, like, SIXTEEN YEARS younger than Ford. Roman Polanski wins Best Director for The Pianist and everyone blows their nuts cheering. Hollywood - coddler of pedophiles, appeaser of tyrannical dictators. What a wacky fucking place that looneyhole is.

3. Chicago wins best picture. Every morning for the next year I will wake up drenched in ice cold sweat, with 'AND ALL THAT JAZZ!' coming from my lips in a hoarse whisper.

THIS WAS NOT MY BEST WORK. I APOLOGIZE FOR MY WEAK, WEAK COMMENTARY.

They weren't giving me much to work with.

The 75th Academy Awards #10

1. Meryl Streep presents the Honorary Oscar to Peter O'Toole. Gotta love the Toole. He was who I wanted to play The Joker when the first Batman flick was announced back in 1987 (I think). He used to look like the Brian Bolland version of The Joker. Plus, I also always heard a light English accent in my head whenever I read Joker dialogue in Batman comics. He gave an incredibly classy speech. SHOCK OF THE EVENING - there was only a smattering of applause when he gave praise and thanks to America at the end of it. Goodness. Who woulda thunk it.

2. Denzel Washington, looking all snappy in a sharp-shouldered suit, presents the Oscar for Best Actress to Nicole Kidman for The Hours, another film I may eventually catch one Sunday afternoon years from now on WE.

3. That old dude who always announces something on the Oscars just made A Very Important Statement about the war. Is it a compulsion with these folks? Do they think everyone's suddenly going to drop their rifles and say "HOLY SHIT WHAT WERE WE THINKING?!?! THAT OLD DUDE WHO INTRODUCES SOMETHING AT THE OSCARS EVERY YEAR, THAT YOUNG GUY FROM THAT MOVIE ABOUT THE HOLOCAUST, THAT FAT GUY WHO MADE THE MOVIE ABOUT THE GUNS, AND THAT GUY FROM FRIDA ALL THINK THERE SHOULD BE PEACE! LET'S ALL JUST HUG AND GO HOME, OKAY!?!?!"

4. I had no idea Barbara Bush was involved with the Oscars. Oh wait, that's Olivia De Havilland. Never saw Gone With The Wind. I've seen her in a lot of other films, though, on the Turner Classic Movies channel (AMC is of the Devil). She introduces a bunch of past Oscar winners sitting on some bleachers. JESUS TATUM O'NEAL IS HOT. Luise Rainer - if you've never seen The Good Earth, do yourself a favor. The Mick is still kickin' it Chubby Elf Style. Christopher Walken looks like he combed his hair with a vacuum cleaner. Then, at the end of it all they parade this year's winners out like they're the new kids in the class or something. What the hell.

The 75th Academy Awards #9

1. Colin Farrell intros U2, and speaks some kind of muttered gibberish. Anyone out there know what that meant? WOW, BONO DIDN'T GIVE A SELF-IMPORTANT SPEECH AT THE END. Amazing. Bono practicing restraint in front of an audience of millions.

2. Chicago wins another award, for film editing. ALL THAT JAZZ HAS NOW BECOME THE WORST SONG OF ALL TIME.

3. Susan Sarandon's wearing her pin while introducing the 'Annual Academy Death March', and you can tell she wants to say something about Bush so bad it is eating her alive.

4. Halle was looking berry edible in her sleek dress, and presented the Best Actor award to Adrien Brody for a movie I will likely never see unless it is on Flix sometime next year, The Pianist. He was nervous as all get out. He wore the pin, so I know where his opinion lies - but if you're going to do it, if you just can't restrain yourself enough to accept your award and go home - that's the way you make a tasteful comment about the war, Michael Moore.

5. Lot of subtle stabs at the administration and the war tonight if you pay attention - Dustin Hoffman's intro to a clip from The Pianist included.

6. Best Original Song goes to 'Lose Yourself' from Eight Mile. Dude, wear a suit. A Basketball shirt with Mardi Gras beads is just goofy.

The 75th Academy Awards #8

I'm not trying to be funny all the time, since I probably haven't even managed it once.

1. Diane Lane presents Best Documentary to Michael Moore's Bowling For Columbine. He says he likes nonfiction best; so why is his documentary semi-fictional? He has brought out every documentary filmmaker 'in solidarity' to protest the President. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant the war. The boos almost drown him out, but it's a short version of his new rant about the Dixie Chicks and The Pope. Cameras fly around everywhere, and that dull thud you hear is a gaggle of agents and publicists having simultaneous panic attacks at the thought of one of their clients standing and cheering Moore on-camera (you can tell a lot of the celebs want to, big shock there). Prediction: Moore will never see that stage again because of that speech. I'm not exaggerating the level of booing.

2. Twin Towers wins for Best Short Documentary.

3. Conrad Hall posthumously wins the Best Cinematography award for Road To Perdition. It was a beautifully shot film, a last work to be proud of.

The 75th Academy Awards #7

1. Salma Hayek's top isn't quite as opaque as I would like it to be. I was straining to see so hard I missed what award she gave out.

2. Chicago wins Best Sound. AND. ALL. THAT. JAZZ. YOU. BASTARDS.

3. I think those earrings are about to pull off Julianne Moore's earlobes.

4. LOTR: TTT wins Best Sound Editing. Perhaps they can put that expertise to work and edit another song for the next time Chicago wins an award.

5. Some dude from Frida just made the first direct reference to the war tonight, saying "If Frida were alive today she'd be on our side, against war." I think if Frida were alive today she might actually want to make her own decisions - but what do I know, I'm not 'on your side'. I'm on the Iraqi people's side.

Here's just a sample of how much they hate us being over there, dude from Frida:

A group of American anti-war demonstrators who came to Iraq with Japanese human shield volunteers made it across the border today with 14 hours of uncensored video, all shot without Iraqi government minders present. Kenneth Joseph, a young American pastor with the Assyrian Church of the East, told UPI the trip "had shocked me back to reality." Some of the Iraqis he interviewed on camera "told me they would commit suicide if American bombing didn't start. They were willing to see their homes demolished to gain their freedom from Saddam's bloody tyranny. They convinced me that Saddam was a monster the likes of which the world had not seen since Stalin and Hitler. He and his sons are sick sadists. Their tales of slow torture and killing made me ill, such as people put in a huge shredder for plastic products, feet first so they could hear their screams as bodies got chewed up from foot to head."

I have plenty more.

The 75th Academy Awards #6

Fuck it, I'm just riffing now.

1. Matthew McConaughey intros the Gangs Of New York clip. He is SO stoned. You could tell he wanted to bang on that podium like a bongo.

2. Kate Hudson OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER MY LETTERS THEY ARE WRITTEN IN MY OWN BLOOD THAT IS HOW MUCH I CARE.

3. Puddin' Zellwegger presents the Oscar for Best Original Score to Frida, and if the music they played while that guy was walking to the stage is any indication, the dudes down at the Mexican Restaurant I frequent could rock his ass away.

4. I can't watch Julie Andrews anymore without seeing her flop her titties out in that scene from S.O.B.

5. Watching the clips from the past Oscar shows. Hollywood got dull when everyone stopped binge-drinking and snorting coke before they went in front of the cameras.

The 75th Academy Awards #5

1. Paul Simon is beginning to look a little like former New York Mayor Ed Koch. It's really weird to watch a dude wearing an African robe rocking out on the guitar.

2. Nia Whatever from the movie My Big Fat Overexposure presents Best Makeup to Frida, for not shaving a gap in Salma Hayek's own natural monobrow.

3. Sean Connery, dressed in a hand-me-down costume from The Pirates Of Penzance, presents Best Supporting Actress. Catherine Zeta Jones wins, and they turn the volume back up on 'All That Jazz'. I guess I ought to watch that movie sometime - but I will turn the volume down when they sing 'All That Jazz' because I now hate it with every fiber of my being. Wasn't Chicago a fucking MUSICAL? Like, with more than ONE SONG?!!? THEN PLAY ANOTHER SONG FROM IT YOU MORONS.

The 75th Academy Awards #4

1. I don't care what you say, I still think Jennifer Garner is secretly Ron Howard's daughter. How much money did they spend on that CGI Mickey Mouse? And who did the voice - some stray audience member who stumbled backstage to take a piss? The Chub-Chubs wins Best Animated Short Film. What the HELL is a 'Chub-Chub'?

2. This Charming Man wins Best Live-Action Short Film. How come we never get to see any of these things? I'd like to be charmed, you know.

3. Mira Sorvino comes out of to present the Oscar for Best Costume Design. Chicago wins, while 'All That Jazz' plays in the background. I think it has been playing this whole time, and they just turn the sound down when someone else wins an award.

4. Brendan Fraser introduces the clip for Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers. Some random Nancy is going to end up getting the part of Superman, and there he was presenting an award. Listen to that voice; it's a Superhero voice. Stupid asshole Warner Brothers.

5. God this is so boring. Where's the controversy? WHERE ARE THE CRAZY STREAKERS, DAMNIT?!?!?!

The 75th Academy Awards #3

1. COOP (Chris Cooper) wins Best Supporting Actor, and makes the first war-related comment of the evening. I think Nicholas Cage is jealous that Cooper called Meryl Streep 'Beautiful and Wonderful' instead of him.

2. Chicago wins for Set Decoration, presented by J-Lo, who pronounced the word mountains as 'Mou-ins'.

3. Travolta intros Catherine Zeta-Jones and Queen Latifah. I think Latifah would make a great album of Jazz standards. Zeta-Jones is what you might call Uber-Knocked Up. She would make a great album of standing there in silence.

The 75th Academy Awards #2

1. Jennifer Connelly is presenting something or other. Excuse me for three minutes.

The 75th Academy Awards #1

1. A montage of every movie cliche' dialogue line from the last 75 years, filtered through Adobe Premiere and projected onto gems falling past a bigass Oscar.

2. It seems to me they're a little desperate to stress just exactly how many stars are present.

3. Steve Martin's getting off some decent one-liners. DUDE HE USED THE NOLTE DRUNK PICTURE!

4. That dude from the Black Crowes looks like a hitchhiker I once picked up. He had shrimp shells in his beard. The hitchhiker, I mean. I don't know what Chris Robinson had for dinner.

5. Spirited Away wins Best Animated Film. Haven't seen it. I hear it was a close vote between that and Treasure Planet.

6. Lord Of The Rings wins Best Visual Effects by creating a CGI rendition of my Grandfather on his 93rd birthday Gollum.

Oscar Pre-Show #2

1. They just showed that Jack Palance push-up clip for the 9753987432th time. It's gotta suck to be remembered for that over Shane.

2. I think the best word word to describe this show is anti-suspense.

Oscar Pre-Show #1

1. Renee Zellwegger is such a cute-lookin' puddin'. She hides her Texas accent well when she acts; that's the first time I've ever heard it.

2. They're showing all the nominations for Best Actress right now. Question - how long was Unfaithful in theaters? Half an hour?

3. No one's wearing duct tape yet, although I think there might be some being used in lieu of bras.

Watching The Golden Phallus Oscar Roll His Eyes In Mortification

Just so you know, I will be blogging the Oscars tonight, with updates as they happen. (or shortly thereafter). You'll get to experience my poor grammar and shortsighted 'wit' almost instantaneously!

Oh, yeah - If you'd rather it be one long updated post, or a bunch of little ones, let me know. I'm all about convenience.

Ted Rall's American Dreams

Michele first posted Ted Rall's cartoon from 3/20/2003, which displayed all the insight and wit I've come to expect from him. NC from Carthaginian Peace had his own take on it.

Using that strip as a springboard, here's what I imagine a typical morning must be like for Ted:



(picture is clickable)

And then I stumbled across this promo ad clipping, the only surviving image from a little-known 1985 IBC (Iraqi Broadcasting Company) prime-time television pilot*:










*and if you believe that is a real ad instead of a Parody, please log off the internet and hold your white flag high in the air. American troops will soon be around with the Surrender Bus to take you to a nice holding station - where you will no longer have to worry about being castrated for criticizing your former leader. Plus there's cake and punch .

This Possum Is Making A Difference

Okay, so I lied. I ran across something today that was so cataclysmically stupid it changed my mind. Besides, if I totally forgo mentioning the war, I won't be able to do the live Academy Awards play-by-play I have planned.

I read a couple of articles today concerning the planned civil disobedience protests once the war starts. Since they all tell pretty much the same stories, I'll just use this one, from ABCNEWS.com, as an example:

In Portsmouth, N.H., protesters plan to make noise by banging pots and pans.

Coming soon to HBO: Emmett Otter's Jug Band Protest.

Many groups plan to carry out die-ins, where activists lie on the ground to symbolize war victims and to block passers-by.

I heard another version of this, where at a specific agreed-upon time, people would stop what they were doing and just fall to the ground, motionless. I can say with all certainty that if the anti-war folks dining at the Golden Corral breakfast buffet down my street do that, blocking the local yokels from slopping up another plate full of biscuits 'n' gravy...those senior citizens are gonna do an early-bird stomp all over you. And if I am present for one of these occasions when someone chooses to make like a Hognose Snake, I will not be responsible for the involuntary flurry of Don Rickles style insults at your expense.

Four others were were arrested in Lansing, N.Y., on Monday on charges of trespassing at a military recruiting station. During the protest, about 20 people splattered what they said was their own blood onto recruiting station walls and windows and an American flag.

And what purpose did this serve, exactly? Did you think it would be like the Red Cross, where you'd be rewarded with some cookies and orange juice afterwards? No, when you drain your bodily fluids into a scrub bucket and splash them all over a military recruiting station...you just get your head repeatedly lumped all up while you're lying there wishing you had left enough blood inside so you wouldn't be too weak to ward off the blows. Next thing you know you're standing there all bruised and swollen, spraying off the side of the building with a garden hose while enraged recruiting officers stand behind you tapping nightsticks into their palms. Really, if you have the uncontrollable urge to spill your own blood inside an armed services recruiting station, you can just skip all those extra steps by walking directly inside and screaming "YOU BUNCH OF PUSSIES!" as loud as you can. You'll be bleeding in no time!

In Seattle, envelopes with white powder and anti-war messages were left at six locations Monday, including a post office that was evacuated. The powder turned out to be farina, a type of ground wheat used in cereal, officials said.

"Welcome to the penitentiary! This fellow's name is Harlan, and he'll be your Neo-Nazi Skinhead cellmate for the duration of your vacation! I'd suggest you make an effort to keep that peace symbol tattoo covered at all times! When he asks what you're in for, I'd suggest you lie your ass off and tell him you murdered someone! Otherwise, he's going to bend you over this uncomfortably thin mattress, brand you with his contraband Zippo, and shove his smelly manhood so far inside it'll collapse your lungs! You know, he's probably going to do that anyway, so forget what I said! Just go with it and have fun! Sweet dreams, and we'll see you at breakfast - we're having Cream Of Wheat!"

In San Francisco, activists shrouded themselves in body bags Monday in front of the British consulate, chanting "no killing civilians in our name."

What they don't tell you about here is all the passing out because everyone had their bags completely zipped up.

San Francisco anti-war groups have laid out similar plans on a larger scale for the outbreak of war, including blocking traffic and an effort to shut down the Pacific Stock Exchange and some high-profile commercial buildings.

"The bare bones of the plan is to basically shut down the financial district of San Francisco. The way we see it is that we basically unplug the system that creates war," said Patrick Reinsborough, an organizer.

"The bare bones of the plan is to basically fire taser weapons directly into the crowd blocking traffic. The way we see it is that we basically unplug the central nervous system that creates muscle control," said Brick Hammerjackson, a burly policeman.

Some groups are focusing on defense-related sites. Protesters plan to block traffic at Buckley Air Force Base in Aurora, Colo., and sit in at the gates of Truax Field in Madison, Wis., which houses state guardsmen.

And tear gas canisters. And vomit-inducing stink bombs. And crowd-dispersing concussive grenades. And rubber bullets. And a lot of those rib-busting beanbag guns. And maybe even a few of those 'wall of eardrum-piercing high-decibel sound' systems. And, if the budget permits, one of those experimental microwave cannons which can target a single screaming moron standing behind a megaphone, pulsing an intense wave of heat in his or her direction and causing immediate unconsciousness right in the middle of their 5674th "No Blood For Oil!" chant.

In Baltimore, anti-war protesters say they will wash off an American flag splashed with red paint and oil to symbolize the blood that could be shed in a possible war in the Middle East.

Do you think this will be the next Tide Ultra commercial? "Tide Ultra - gets out blood AND oil, now with new 'peace in our time' enzymes! Safe for colourfast washable flags!"

Some anti-war activists say their efforts will demonstrate support for American soldiers, because the best way to help them is to bring them home.

And the best way to bring them home is by sitting on the floor of a holding cell in a puddle of your own blood, piss, and vomit, as the crowd control chemicals wear off?

---

As much as I rag these morons, I don't want to see any of them get hurt. I've heard some rumblings around town (out of UNCW, Wilmington's a big college town) about staging the 'bicycle traffic-blocking' protest, and I'd really advise anyone local not to participate. Protest all you want in your own space - wear the T-shirts and carry the banners, stick a big sign in your front yard, gather up a candle-burning chant group at the waterfront downtown, play all your Cat Stevens CD's at maximum volume, fingerpaint a peace symbol on your face in your own blood...but stay out of traffic. Seriously. A lot of the college teens around here are from out of state, and they don't know Wilmington like I do. The locals already drive around in a perpetual fury over the traffic situation. If you're doing figure eights in the middle of an intersection on your Earth Cruiser, one of these irrational rawbone rednecks is liable to run your ass right over and not give a good goddamn about doing it. Not because you're pissing him off over the war, but because you're keeping him from that after-work Budweiser at Smitty's on the Carolina Beach boardwalk. Do what you feel you must to make your statement, but you're gonna feel pretty silly about it when you're blowing into that little plastic tube to make the wheelchair move.

By all means, though, do the Stop, Drop, And Fake Death thing! I really need the heckling practice!

---

Here in the complex, two college girls posted a sign in their ground-level apartment window: "Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity."

Someone dimed them out over it to the assistant property manager, so she called them and told them to take it down. From what I heard, they immediately launched into 'free speech' mode, until the asst. manager told them they were breaking the terms of their lease and they'd be evicted if they didn't remove it. Now, in the lease you sign when you first move in, it states clearly that you're not supposed to put a bunch of crap in your windows, on your door, or out in the hallway. If they wanted, they could even tell people not to put foot mats in front of their doors. That's not why she told them to take it down, though. I heard they grudgingly took it down, but acted like their rights were violated.

So, I will now take this opportunity to relay to you what I would have said to those two girls if I were the asst. manager, swiping a line from the movie Planes, Trains, And Automobiles and paraphrasing it so as to make it precisely clear to them why they had to take it down:

ASSISTANT MANAGER: "You took a fucking piece of paper and fucking ran it through your fucking computer's fucking printer, then you fucking taped that fucking sign to your fucking window, where every fucking kid who fucking walks by can fucking see it. Now, you fucking better take that fucking sign down right fucking now, or..."

SPOILED, HUFFY LITTLE COLLEGE GIRL: "Or what?"

ASSISTANT MANAGER: "You're fucked."

Anyway, all this fresh stupidity gave me one last idea for a new piece of Protest Clip Art:

Notes From The Homefront

Okay, this might be the last time I talk about anything having to do with the upcoming war (because I think we all know the Butcher From Baghdad isn't going anywhere, except Hell shortly). It's pointless to argue now - and always has been, really. Everyone already has their mind made up one way or another by this point, and most folks had theirs made up from moment one. I'll try to stick to the groanworthy gag stuff from now on; other bloggers express themselves more eloquently than I ever could in regards to world events, anyway. Plus, hurt feelings and all that other bullshit, yadda-yadda. Although I'm still not going to take back what I said yesterday. Hey, you want to insinuate I'm some kind of sheep or Nazi just because I take a different stance on this issue, then be prepared to have that same bile spewed right back at you.

1. Michele has a little photoshop contest going on right now, using a piece of clip art her sister found tucked inside a Clip Art CD Collection today. She's already posted one of mine, but I thought of another:



Well, that's probably what most people are thinking while they're standing around at one of those things. Anyway, you should go check out the other ribticklin' (wait - did I just use the word ribticklin'? What's wrong with me?) entries on her blog, in handy-dandy (handy-dandy?!?! Christ, I can't stop!) clickable form below:

START

NEXT, GO HERE

AND HERE

THEN FOLLOW ALL THE LINKS HERE

HERE'S ANOTHER

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

And that's all there are as of this writing.

2. Okay, about this whole Dixie Chicks thing: I know you're all clinging to the edges of your seats waiting for my expert commentary and razor-edged wit here (that's sarcasm, not egotism, by the way), but I really don't have a lot to say about it. Jim Treacher has a post today which pretty much sums up my feelings as well.

Well, okay, I do have a small point to make here. I've been thinking about it, and to be truthful I don't really have a problem with what they said. It's a rather mild insult/statement compared to what some celebrities (yeah, I'm talking to you Chrissie Hynde, you insane dried-up old piece of beef jerky) have stated recently, and there's no law against disliking the President. I was pretty vocally ashamed of Clinton throughout the latter half of his second term, so it would be rather hypocritical of me to say someone else can't say the same things. BUT - they said it during a concert people paid to see. That's a captive audience, and I think it was pretty stupid of Natalie Maines, picking that particular moment in which to share her feelings. I'm sure not everyone in that crowd shared her sentiments, yet they were forced to hear them, just as everyone at that Pretenders concert was forced to listen to Hynde's cockdribble rant. No one paid to hear Natalie's opinion on current events, and I'm sure it wasn't printed on the ticket anywhere: Dixie Chicks Live In Concert - Plus Bonus Political Discussion! It's Like Meet The Press, Only With Fiddle-Scratchin' Bleach Blondes Wearing Too Much Eyeshadow! No, people just paid to hear The Dixie Chicks play their Shit-Kickin' Tunes, and watch their ass cheeks jiggle around while they did the Boot-Scoot Boogie, or whatever the hell it is that they do. It's one thing to say such things during an interview you can skim past in a magazine or flip the channel to avoid; it's an entirely different thing when it's done at a concert which has absolutely nothing to do with politics (except maybe the politics of tobacco juice spitting).

My prediction here: It'll be a year or so before the next Dixie Chicks album is released, and by then all of this will have blown over. Those radio stations breaking and burning all their Dixie Chicks CD's right now will have long since had replacement copies sent to them from the label, and will be regularly playing their tunes again - no matter what they're saying or threatening right now. The simple fact of the matter is this, in regards to all these radio station boycotts: All Sony Music has to say is "So, you're not playing the Dixie Chicks anymore? Well, fine. You're not allowed to play music from any of our artists, then." Don't think they won't do it, either - they have too much money tied up in The Dixie Chicks to fuck around with a bunch of overreacting Station Managers. Music Companies dictate what a station can or can't play from their library, not the other way around. And the stations will cave, because if you're not allowed to play the music people want to hear, your station will close down in short fashion, and your Deejays are back to emceeing hogcalling contests on the weekends. There is NO such thing as 'Radio Station Loyalty' among listeners anymore, not with the wide music choices available elsewhere nowadays. Sony holds every ace in the deck in this situation.

But, hey - if you're still bound and determined to do away with your own Dixie Chicks CD collection, I'd like you to at least consider my previous suggestion instead of just destroying your albums.

Okay, enough war-related crap.

URGENT REMINDER

Survivor has switched nights this week, and will be shown on Wednesday night at 8 p.m. (Eastern time). Just thought I'd pass that along for those of you who've been watching, but might be unaware of the switch.

Enablers

I've seen the above on several message boards today, even received it a couple of times via email. It's probably on thousands of blogs as well, your local hivemind at work - I don't know, I haven't been reading the blogs much today. I do know that that picture is the single biggest load of Horseshit quote/meme currently being bandied around the Internet, and is an insult to any living person who survived the Nazi atrocities.

Where's the quote for Saddam, and all the barbaric actions he's taken against his people in the past? Oh, THAT'S okay with this bunch, eh? Seeing as how it isn't our business to meddle in another country's affairs?

Applying this thought directly to the above quote: It's a good thing the majority of the U.S. didn't listen to people like this back then (and there were a great deal of people using this exact brand of rhetoric, do the research if you don't believe me). Using their logic, we never should have gotten involved in the European side of WWII (after all, Hitler never once attacked US soil, right?). That quote is from a CAPTURED NAZI - you know, the Nazis we had to go to WAR with in order to bring them to the Nuremberg Trials where this quote was transcribed? If the American Government had listened to what they're insinuating by this quote, Goering and his bunch would have gone right on about their business of blissfully exterminating Jews and conquering the whole of Europe - and because they hadn't attacked our US homeland yet, we never would have gotten involved.

It'll be interesting to see the spin, conspiracy theories, and propaganda coming from the protest bunch as the first footage of Iraqi citizens flooding the streets post-war roll in, when they're embracing the soldiers and thanking them for getting rid of the despot; or, when the evidence surfaces about all the chemical weapons and other resolution-breaking missiles Hussein and his happy gang had carefully concealed all this time. I can hear it already:

"Those soldiers FORCED the Iraqi women and children to hug them at gunpoint, the fascists!"

"Those chemical and biological weapons were PLANTED there after the fact by the US military, those despicable Nazis!"

It's fitting they're using a Nazi quote, considering how that group has proven to be just as adept at propaganda, rhetoric, and spin as Goebbels ever was.

TRUTH COMES OUT

There are now reports that Saddam is arming his soldiers with chemical and biological weapons to use on US troops. You know, the weapons he's been claiming all along he didn't have, and which completely blow any and every U.N. resolution made against him these past twelve years wide open, providing full justification for what we're about to do? You can straight up kiss my ass all up in the crack, you dickheads who keep slinging around the Nazi quotes; all along you've chosen to embolden, empower, and enable a despot with your protests, a despot who spit in the world's face at every chance he was given - and a despot who is now preparing to unleash those 'nonexistent' weapons (which you also chose to believe he didn't have) on our servicemen and women. You people (in this country and others) chose all along to believe the words of this madman who murders his own people by the score and is soon to become a proven liar (regarding the chemical and biological weapons of mass destruction issue, among others), over the words of your own countrymen and allies. After hearing those reports I hate your fucking guts right now, every single one of you. If you're one of the people using that Goering quote, and I'm on your blogroll or whatever, go ahead and de-link me if my statements offend you; I don't really give a shit anymore. You're callous idiots, and you sicken me. It's probably for the best best that I stick to my own blog for a while, before I say something in someone's comments section I truly regret later.

You love to throw around words like 'Nazi' and 'Right-Winger' to somehow brand those you disagree with, and that's a 'McCarthyesque' tactic if I ever saw one. Just replace the words 'Red' and 'Commie' with 'Nazi' and 'Right-Winger', and it's McCarthy 2003 from this bunch. I'll bet old Joe is down in Hell somewhere right now smiling up at them. Well, at least until it blows up in your smug little faces over the next few weeks.

SURVIVOR: SCAMAZON part 3

If you are just arriving and would like to catch up on previous recaps, you can find the first part here, and the second part here.

DAY 13

JABBERJAWS TRIBE:

Powerdyke gloats over Holy Steamroller's exit last episode, calling herself 'Alpha Female, Top Dog'. She forgot to add 'Kiki' (look it up) and 'Sergeant' (likewise). Executive Annoyance fails to catch on to the ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE conspiracy arounD her, and puzzles over why all the rest of the girls would kick out the tribes strongest member. Ms. Frizz tearfully complains about not being kicked out last Tribal Council, while Executive Annoyance makes gag faces behind her back. Power Dyke grins, her Alpha Dog position secure in her mind.

TOMMYBOY TRIBE:

While trying to hack his way through a tree limb for no apparent reason, Whizzer instead chops into his forehead with the rusted machete he'd been using. All the fellas 'oooh' and 'aaahhh' over the wound, clipping it shut with a Butterfly bandage and telling Whizzer it 'looks cool'. And it does indeed, if by 'cool' they meant 'extremely dorky'.

JABBERJAWS:

The gals have a Pow Wow, wherein Executive Annoyance accuses Power Dyke of talking smack behind her back. Power Dyke puts the blame on the deaf girl, of course. Executive Annoyance finally begins to realize she is marked like the chick in The Scarlet Letter. Power Dyke finds this all amusing to the utmost, chuckling into the camera and displaying some of those 'Alpha Female Dog' tendencies.

TOMMYBOY:

The boys get a letter, inviting the youngest member of each tribe to a cross-tribal 'date' filled with 'wine and laughter'. Magic Goof Ball whines about not being able to partake of the wine and laughter, visibly jealous of Gung Whoa (the youngest Tommyboy). At least he has that Eight Ball to keep him company.

JABBERJAWS:

Stupormodel is the youngest here, and skanks all up in the camera making vague complaints about having to do something that might actually require a physical effort.

THE DATE

Gung Who and Stupormodel easily paddle straight to their destination (I'd like to see the outtakes there), a Jungle Bungalo. Jeff recaps the 'boy versus girl' situation for the benefit of the stupid, then leaves. Gung Whoa and Stupormodel find mounds of food, fresh clothing, outdoor showers, and matching zippered leather facemasks. Stupormodel gushes to the camera about all the hospitality, using the word 'like' approximately 8563 times. Stupormodel and Gung Who share a 'Colt .45 Works Every Time' moment over Malt Liquor and Pork Rinds (or whatever the hell they were eating). Stupormodel spills the beans about Ms. Frizz's hostage situation to Gung Whoa, not realizing she is DINING WITH THE ENEMY. She also uses the term 'rilly-rilly' when speaking of Heidi-Ho: "We've grown, like, rilly-rilly close." Gung Whoa nods and makes mental notes as he gets Stupormodel to confess who Jabberjaws is planning to kick out next (Executive Annoyance). I just noticed Stupormodel HAS A FUCKING TATTOO ON THE TOP OF HER FOOT. Gung Whoa confesses that all the Tommyboy guys talk about Stupormodel's ass, then a close-up is shown of her digging around in it. Trying to find that gold nugget she evidently thinks is hidden there, I suppose. As night falls, Gung Whoa nearly squirts in his shorts when he sees Stupormodel taking a shower behind the translucent bamboo curtain (?). Gung Whoa climbs into bed after his own shower and warns Stupormodel that he might have a nocturnal spasm or two. "I twitch before I fall asleep", he says, to cover the certain pre-sleep masturbatory ritual he's about to partake in.

DAY 14

Stupormodel and Gung Whoa rise to a continental breakfast, complete with crawling vermin.

THE BIG SURPRISE TWIST

Jeff shows up carrying a large clay pot and a woven mat. He tells the pair to sit at the table. Stupormodel, demonstrating an almost telepathic amount of foresight, says: "He said take a seat at the table, and I was like, oh man, this isn't even over yet." Jeff tells them the real reason they were brought together, and that is:

To pick new tribes - boy-girl.

Jeff dumps the tiles marked with everyone's name in front of the two, then tells Gung Whoa to pick a girl. Using the stored info Stupormodel blabbed to him, Gung Whoa snatches up Heidi-ho. Stupormodel picks Whizzer, sweating over being such an open book the previous night. Gung Whoa picks Mr. Weatherbee next, and Stupormodel picks Power Dyke. Gung Who picks Children Of A Lesser Gripe, Stupormodel picks Magic Goof Ball. Gung Whoa picks Massah Massengill, Stupormodel picks Ms. Frizz. Executive Annoyance then goes to Gung Whoa, and last of all Skeletor goes to Stupormodel. Again, Stupormodel's psychic awareness kicks in as she says: "It's like the game started over; it's, like, a brand new game!"

The final tribes (until the merger) now consist of the following members:

TOMMYBOY: Gung Whoa, Heidi-Ho, Mr. Weatherbee, Children Of A Lesser Gripe, Massah Massengill, Executive Annoyance.

JABBERJAWS: Stupormodel, Whizzer, Power Dyke, Magic Goof Ball, Ms. Frizz, Skeletor.

The two are then given the task of paddling back to their respective tribes and informing the members of the switch.

TOMMYBOY:

Gung Whoa arrives, telling the fellas of the swap as if it were a Command Decision on his part. Why the hell didn't he just say "We got screwed" or "It wasn't my fault"? Because that wouldn't have been 'responsible'. Magic Goof Ball is pissed, telling the camera "he doesn't have my best interests at heart." Well, NO SHIT. Isn't that kind of the point of the game, Idiot? There is no reaction from Whizzer or Skeletor to the news.

JABBERJAWS:

Heidi-Ho is devastated by the news, seeing all her machinations swirl down the toilet. Executive Annoyance, on the other hand, is overjoyed. She feels her neck has been removed from the guillotine, at least temporarily. Children Of A Lesser Gripe doesn't seem to give much of a shit either way.

TOMMYBOY:

Heidi-Ho, Executive Annoyance, and Children Of A Lesser Gripe arrive at their new tribe to rounds of applause, backslapping, hugging, and the heavy air of insincerity. Children Of A Lesser Gripe informs the guys that she is of the non-hearing variety, much to their surprise. Massah Massengill gives her props for lasting this long, then massages his swollen hemorrhoids through the fabric of his shorts. Executive Annoyance loves her new tribe, happily praising them.

JABBERJAWS:

Whizzer, Skeletor, and Magic Goof Ball arrive to a a joyously lethargic reaction from the girls. Ms. Frizz sullenly drags her anemic carcass off the ground, shlumping her way over to the group. Then she spots the guys. A smile suddenly splits across her face and she becomes wildly animated, clapping and laughing, hugging and chattering away like an old Alvin And The Chipmunks record. It seems her energy and interest in the game has been both invigorated and rekindled by the addition of an ingredient which previously had been crucially lacking from her tribe - PENIS. Magic Goof Ball tells the camera that the surest way Ms. Frizz and Stupormodel can insulate themselves from his vote is to remain buck naked at all times.

TOMMYBOY:

Nightfall. Children Of A Lesser Grip praises the men for keeping the camp well lit so that she can see everyone's face as they speak. She takes a shot at the former all-girl JABBERJAWS girls for failing to do so in the past. Heidi-Ho adopts an indignant attitude at the remark, proving nothing causes indignant response quite so much as the truth.

DAY 15

JABBERJAWS:

Whizzer tells the girls that all the guys on the old TOMMYBOY tribe voted Ms. Frizz 'Girl I'd Most Like To Screw'. Actually, they said 'hottest', but same thing. Oh, they forgot 'most whiny', but then again I guess they never got to see that. Ms. Frizz's ego is stroked to insane levels by this news, and she tells the camera (referring to Whizzer) "I dig him SOOOOOOOOO much". She also has some sort of Stevie Wonder thing going on with her hair now. Power Dyke feels her power has been usurped by the Testicle Squad, and fears Ms. Frizz might turn on her forced pact with THE ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE.

TOMMYBOY

The tribe receives their Immunity Challenge mail, something to do with rowing and a word jumble. Massah Massengill compliments Gung Whoa's choices of strapping young women (feeling they have a good shot at immunity), then gives himself a high colonic.

IMMUNITY CHALLENGE

The two teams discuss the switch with Jeff, and Whizzer enthuses over his new tribe. The dick-crazed Ms. Frizz CANNOT STOP SMILING AT HIM, NOT EVEN FOR A SECOND.

The two tribes must each solve a Crossword Puzzle, then row a boat around collecting flags bearing symbols of the words they just solved. First tribe back with all the correct flags wins. JABBERJAWS easily solves the puzzle, with TOMMYBOY lingering behind in a debate over whether 'mosquito' is spelled with one 'T' or twelve. JABBERJAWS has a wide lead, but TOMMYBOY makes a comeback, only to fall short the last few strokes. JABBERJAWS wins the race with a minute to spare.

TOMMYBOY:

Arriving back at camp, Executive Annoyance states the tribe has "no idea how to vote". I guess she hasn't been paying attention. She is somehow working under the notion that the three girls are going to stick together, as will the three guys, and it will all come down to a tiebreaker. Heidi-Ho wants Gung Whoa voted off last, because "he picked us. He must have seen something in us." Oh, please. She wants him to stay because the other two are old men. The girls draw straws between Butch and Roger, with Butch's stick being the more flaccid of the two. Executive Annoyance "figures that's what they'll do, too." Gung Whoa pulls Heidi-Ho aside at the first opportunity and informs her that she's the 'chosen one' among the guys to be carried over to the merger, trying to coerce her into shifting her vote to the guy's side. He tells her the voting order is as follows: Executive Annoyance, Children Of A Lesser Gripe, and then her. Heidi-Ho expresses her discomfort at being placed in such a position, even though she has never had a moment's trouble forming secret alliances in the past.


TRIBAL COUNCIL

Executive Annoyance is happy as a clam during the pre-vote discussion, pleased with her new male teammates even though she plans on voting one of them off. Children Of A Lesser Gripe again praises the fellow's treatment of her over the women, even though she plans on voting one of them off over the women she felt mistreated her. Everyone pretty much lies their asses off in regards to how they're going to vote. The vote is taken, counted, and:

THE TRIBE HAS SPOKEN: Executive Annoyance has been downsized from the tribe due to Heidi-Ho's switcheroo vote against her. During her farewell speech to the camera she says "I didn't want to lie or cheat, and I guess that's what you have to be. Good Luck to them, because in the game of life I am the winner." She selectively left out the fact that forming alliances and accusing someone of smuggling granola bars without proper evidence (as she did in the second episode) is BOTH lying AND cheating. Executive Annoyance, in the game of Survivor, you are the LOSER.

Everyone's already done this, but

Which Humor
Troubles the Disposition of YOUR Body?


I am so full of semen I slosh when play with myself. Thanks to Andrea and Solonor for the link.

More stuff later today. Been busy, and didn't get the chance to watch Survivor until last night.

The Dork Speaks

Michele had a really innovative way of interviewing me, and has posted the results here. I offer no excuses for my behavior during the interview, both real or imagined; suffice it to say that I will reconsider any further experimentation with Diesel fuel and oxygen masks.

Will The Feathered And Feline Fiends Finally
Fabricate Failure For Our Fearless Friends?

"Holy Feelings Of Inadequacy, Batman!"

When I was wee, it was all about Batman. Batman Mego Dolls, Batman Frisbees, Batman Shrinky-Dinks, Collegeville Batman Halloween Costumes. I adored the TV show, moreso than the live-action The Incredible Hulk or Amazing Spider-man television shows which were current at the time (although I adored Spider-man, and would eventually shift all interest to the character). I know it's fashionable now to sneer at it, what with all the Batman films changing the tone, and the Grim 'N' Gritty version of the character taking center stage in recent years. For me, though, there's never been another live-action superhero TV show or film which has been as faithful at duplicating the source material from the comics. Read a Batman comic from the time period, and almost everything you'll see there is replicated on the television screen (within the budget of the show).

Three instances from my own life which incorporated Batman TV show elements:

1. My friends and I came up with a Batprank during final exams in my Sophomore year of High School. After our last exam, Chad, Rick, and I were going to dress up like Batman, Robin, and The Joker (from the TV show, the movie wasn't out yet back then). Chad would be Batman, Rick was to play Robin, and I was going to be the Joker. We were going to meet up and run through the hallways of our High School reenacting scenes from the show and causing chaos (most Teachers left their doors open). Yes, if we'd been caught we probably would have received severe punishment for disrupting exams; and yes, we realized this would most likely eliminate any chance that a girl would be willing to touch us throughout the rest of our High School careers. We just didn't care. Now, I took my last exam before either of them, so i went down to The Drama Room and got into character. I'd picked out a calf-length orange velvet overcoat (1800s style), purple 1970s bell-bottom slacks, and black platform boots from the costume closet. I was wearing a Hawaiian Shirt with little cartoon skulls all over it. I took a pink Lei from the prop closet and twisted it up to make a tie. I was The Joker as played by Elton John. I spent about an hour applying makeup (there was no green haircolor so I just combed green cream makeup through my hair), then sat and waited for my friends to show up. And waited. And waited. And waited. Just to mix it up a bit, I waited some more. Now, during all of this Drama Teacher Mr. Foss is giving his other students their exams (everyone had to do a 2-minute monologue), and they're all staring at me the whole time they take it. When they were done some of them asked me to act out scenes from the show, so I did what I could recall. Foss looks my way at one point and says "It'll never work. They'll think you're weird". He actually thought I did this to try and pick up drama chicks. Anyway, turned out that Chad couldn't find a Batman costume, and Rick had never seriously planned to do it in the first place.

2. In my Senior year of High School I was cast in an Old-Fashioned Melodrama which we were going to tour around and perform for all the grade schools in the area. I had the part of the lead female character's brother, who had infiltrated the villain's home by posing as a Peter Lorre type Butler. When no one else was around, however, he became Stalwart Hero. I played the character like Burt Ward as Robin, down to the way I stood and punched my hands together. The kids ate it up, which was unusual because kids are normally bored stiff when they have to suffer through a play. I had a blast.

3. As I've written about before, I was manager of a Comic Book/Collectibles store for a few years in the 90s. When the premiere of Batman Returns was rolling around back in 1992, I talked the owner of the store into doing a tie-in promotion with one of the local radio stations - for a mere $400, we'd get an on-location radio remote spot, 15 pairs of giveaway tickets to the premiere, and a week's worth of radio spots for our store. It was a pretty good deal, although I didn't count on what happened - people just showed up to get the free tickets, and didn't buy anything (even though I'd stayed up almost all night the day before gettting the store organized and packaging special deals for display). I did, however, get to write the copy (or 'script') for the radio ad, and I was pretty proud of it at the time. It centered on the television versions of Catwoman and The Penguin, with the two discussing a diabolical plan to trap the Dynamic Duo inside Memory Lane Comics. The Batman TV show theme played in the background as they cackled, with Catwoman saying it was the Purrrrfect Plan and Penguin calling Robin The Boy Hostage (stole that from Frank Miller). The voice actors doing the roles (two of the regular deejays) were spot on; and the chick doing Catwoman gave you a tentpole with the way she wrapped her tongue around the RRrrrrrs. They even got a guy who sounded exactly like the narrator from the TV show. I think I still have the tape in one of the boxes stored over at my folk's house; if I can get over there this week that radio spot I will use it as my free Audioblogger post and let everyone hear for themselves. Oh, that big red title above? It's a 'narrator' line from the ad 'script' I wrote.

The Actual Review

I was really looking forward to Return To The Batcave this Sunday. I figured it would be awful (and I was not disappointed in that respect), but awful in a thoroughly enjoyable way. I was half right.

PLOT: The 'flashbacks' to the behind-the-scenes filming of the television show are framed by the Modern Day Adam West and Burt Ward working together to solve a mystery. Said mystery being the theft of the original Batmobile from a Charity Auto Show. To solve this puzzle they must think back to the Heady 1960s and find clues in their collective memories of the show, and recover the Batmobile from the dastardly fiend.

THE MODERN DAY SEQUENCES: Well, they're not good. Let's put it this way: Seventysomething Adam West does a sloppy Batusi with Seventysomethi