Archive for February, 2011

INTRODUCING THE TALKING CHARLIE SHEEN DOLL!

Posted in Movies with tags on 02/24/2011 by Chris

Charlie comes LOADED with lovable phrases, including:

  • “This bootleg cult arrogantly referred to as AA now supports a 5% success rate. My success rate is 100%!”
  • “One of their mottoes is ‘Don’t be special, be one of us.’ Newsflash: I am special, and I will never be one of you!”
  • “I have a disease? Bullshit! I cured it with my mind!”
  • “The only thing I’m addicted to is winning!”
  • “I’m gonna hang out with these two smoking hotties and fly privately around the world. It might be lonely up here but I sure like the view!”
  • “Look what I’m dealing with, man. I’m dealing with fools and trolls!”
  • “I’m sorry, man, but I’ve got magic. I’ve got poetry in my fingertips. Most of the time — and this includes naps — I’m an F-18, bro. And I will destroy you in the air! I will deploy my ordinance to the ground!”
  • “I’m tired of being told ‘You can’t talk about that, you can’t talk about that.’ Bull S-H-I-T!”
  • “If they want me in it, it’s a smash. If they don’t, it’s a turd that opens on a tugboat!”
  • “We work for the Pope, we murder people. We’re Vatican assassins. How complicated can it be? What they’re not ready for is guys like you and I and Nails and all the other gnarly gnarlingtons in my life, that we are high priests, Vatican assassin warlocks. Boom. Print that, people!”
  • “I’m not Thomas Jefferson. He was a pussy.”

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FIVE THINGS I DON’T CARE ABOUT:

Posted in Music with tags on 02/19/2011 by Chris
    1. The new Radiohead album.
    2. The new Radiohead album.
    3. The new Radiohead album.
    4. The new Radiohead album.
    5. The new Radiohead album.

      Abstract representation of a new Radiohead album listening party.

      THE NINTH GATE, aka THERE GOES TWO HOURS I’LL NEVER GET BACK

      Posted in Movies with tags , , on 02/08/2011 by Chris

      In 1977, director Roman Polanski had sex with a 13-year-old girl, then fled the country to avoid sentencing.

      In 1999, he directed The Ninth Gate, starring Johnny Depp.

      After watching The Ninth Gate last night, I’m now on the fence as to which is worse.

      As history proves, most satanic-themed horror movies and thrillers tend to blow inordinate amounts of ass. In fact Rosemary’s Baby (also directed by Polanski) is an anomaly in this category; a diamond in a long valley of turds. I guess Polanski figured he could capture lightning twice in this regard, but if he was feeling this ballsy he might’ve been better off just hitting on another minor.

      In The Ninth Gate, Johnny Depp plays a rare book dealer, given the task of flying around Europe to authenticate a book for a client of his. Right off the bat, this should clue you in as to how much excitement you’re in for. The book in question is some sort of Satanic handbook designed to open the “Ninth Gate” and (presumably) release Lucifer himself, but we all know this ain’t gonna happen. Instead, we get Frank Langella dousing himself with water gasoline and getting covered in computer-animated fire which, given the fact that this was done in 1999, looks about as convincing as a PlayStation cutscene.

      As if the ending didn’t suck enough, the near-two hours leading up to it move slower than Susan Boyle on a treadmill; the pacing couldn’t be worse if Helen Keller herself directed this. Johnny Depp seems to get knocked unconscious 12 times (or maybe it was just twice?)  and everyone around him seems to die mysteriously – i.e., off-screen with zero entertainment. There’s also a random blond chick following Depp around, and we know something’s up with her because she occasionally floats and does weird shit with her eyes. Make no mistake; none of this is exciting.

      "Don't look at me - I didn't write this."

      The post-PlayStation fire ending plays out as such that I imagine the three screenwriters (Polanski among them) were writing this in a classroom when the five-minute bell rang, and they had to hastily scribble out something to end this fucker. It’s even worse than the ending of a Shia LaBeouf movie, and I hate those endings because Shia LaBeouf is always still alive.

      I HADDA FEELING (WOO HOO) THAT HALFTIME SHOW WOULD BLOW

      Posted in Music with tags , on 02/07/2011 by Chris

      After remaining celibate for the past six years, my eyes and ears were thoroughly fucked once again by the Super Bowl halftime show. Seeing Paul McCartney follow Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson’s tit a mere one year later might’ve been a bit strange, but going from The Who to the Black Eyed Peas in just one year was like if you went to bed with Mila Kunis and woke up with John Madden.

      And so after six years of musical acts that actually played musical instruments, I guess the NFL figured it was time to bring Auto-Tune, blinking lights, and retardation back to the halftime show. And since $lash would do anything for a few bucks, he showed up (wearing a top hat that looked like it could have been owned by Liberace) to provide some barely-audible guitar while Fergie dug a hole, dumped “Sweet Child O’ Mine”s mutilated corpse into it, and patted down the dirt.

      Here’s where I’d normally provide the video, but the hell with that; if you missed it, consider it a blessing. Instead, here’s Fergie pissing herself: