How much would you pay spend a couple nights at the house featured in A Christmas Story? You have 30 seconds to answer...all right, boys and girls, pencils down. Anyone know the correct answer? Yes, Jimmy, that's right: $4,200.
I think it's worth it. The Christmas Story house has to rank pretty high when it comes to picking the greatest cinematic houses. Other contenders include the Corleone compound in The Godfather, Bilbo's hobbit hole,and Kevin's house in Home Alone. The Bates Motel ranks dead last, narrowly behind the space colony in Aliens.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Mixed Greens
Coming soon to a McDonald's near you: the new Munchie burger, featuring pickles, extra onions, and a very special ingredient. Bet you can't eat just one!
Also, please note the misspelling of "pallets" as "palates." I live to find things like that, which makes me more than a little pathetics.
Also, please note the misspelling of "pallets" as "palates." I live to find things like that, which makes me more than a little pathetics.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Happy Birthday, Dear Jughashvili
The Russian Communist Party is encouraging people to leave poor Stalin alone, especially on his birthday. Says one of the Staliniks: "We would very much like for any discussion of the mistakes of the Stalin epoch to be silenced today, so that people could reflect on Stalin's personality as a creator, a thinker and a patriot." Sweet, no? Let's reflect on some Uncle Joe's nobler aspects:
1. Mustache a little too big to be considered Hitlerian
2. Was really, really good at liquidating people
3. Not Hitler
See? Truly, Stalin was a creator, a thinker, and a patriot.
1. Mustache a little too big to be considered Hitlerian
2. Was really, really good at liquidating people
3. Not Hitler
See? Truly, Stalin was a creator, a thinker, and a patriot.
The Things That Should Not Be
The Onion presents:
1. The Least Essential Albums of 2009, one of which merits this dismissal: "Sucking has always been good for Creed’s business, so why change things up now?" Ouch.
And...
2. The 19-Plus Worst Films of 2009, featuring a guest appearance from a particularly dreadful '08 film. Thankfully, I haven't seen any of them, though their review of Paper Heart is so brutal I feel almost compelled to watch it.
My take? I didn't see 19 movies this year, period, so I can't really judge. But I did despise Year One, truly, madly, and deeply. Any film featuring Jack Black eating bear poop merits a toasty spot in cinematic hell.
1. The Least Essential Albums of 2009, one of which merits this dismissal: "Sucking has always been good for Creed’s business, so why change things up now?" Ouch.
And...
2. The 19-Plus Worst Films of 2009, featuring a guest appearance from a particularly dreadful '08 film. Thankfully, I haven't seen any of them, though their review of Paper Heart is so brutal I feel almost compelled to watch it.
My take? I didn't see 19 movies this year, period, so I can't really judge. But I did despise Year One, truly, madly, and deeply. Any film featuring Jack Black eating bear poop merits a toasty spot in cinematic hell.
Settlers of Satan
What do I have in common with a Silicon Valley wunderkind multi-millionaire? Unfortunately, it's not money. It's not that we both suck at sports, though that's technically true. No, the common denominator is that we both love Settlers of Catan. This, of course, bolsters Settlers' status as the nerdiest board game around, narrowly edging out Risk and Diplomacy.
Snowball Fight!
Back when I was a young lad, I loved nothing more than a good snowball fight. The heft of a sloppy slushball in your hand...the whistle of the wind in your hair as you like hell from your big brother and his murderous throwing arm...the pinching cramp in your legs as you hunkered down behind a bush, waiting for your best friend to turn the corner so you could smack him upside the head with an airborne sno-cone--I loved every bit of it. I could even tolerate the whole getting-hit-in-the-face-by-a-flying-chunk-of-ice element. After all, you have to enjoy the bad with the good.
I do remember, though, that even the wild, shoot-em-up world of snowball fights had rules. No rocks in the snowballs. No sleds--you had to move under your own power. No using icicles as shivs. And most important of all, no hoses! Nothing could upset the balance of power faster than an ice-cold water jet. It was mean, sneaky, and low-down. Only cowards used the hose.
This, however, might be worse. I don't think we made a rule against it, but then again, I don't think the situation ever called for one.
I do remember, though, that even the wild, shoot-em-up world of snowball fights had rules. No rocks in the snowballs. No sleds--you had to move under your own power. No using icicles as shivs. And most important of all, no hoses! Nothing could upset the balance of power faster than an ice-cold water jet. It was mean, sneaky, and low-down. Only cowards used the hose.
This, however, might be worse. I don't think we made a rule against it, but then again, I don't think the situation ever called for one.
Must-Click Link
And while we're on the topic of football...this video is entitled "Oakland Raider Tommy Kelly Loses His Pants Mid-Game." Now that you've read that, I dare you not to click on the link. I dare you!
Ain't That a Kicker in The Head?
Do kickers have the best job in the NFL--or the worst? Most people, I think, would say the kicker has it easy. You only come out 8-10 times each game, tops. If anybody on the other team touches you with more force than is required to open a Coke can, BANG! Eight-yard penalty. Barring a freak accident, you'll never get concussed. You'll never have to run anywhere, unless it's to the locker room to escape death-by-crushing after you kick a winning field goal. Exercise? Who needs it all? You just need to work on propelling a ball a couple dozen yards with your foot. Get that down and you're golden. Oh, did I mention you can play for approximately forever? Jason Elam was waived by the Atlanta Falcons this season, but before that he played for 45 consecutive seasons. He was in the league back when the Washington Redskins were still called the Washington Red Savages, for goodness sakes!
But...I don't know if any position in sports has a shorter leash than an NFL kicker. Consider the case of poor Shaun Suisham. A few weeks ago Shaun lived happily as a Washington Redskin, kicking things to his heart's content. But in a game against the then-undefeated New Orleans saints, he missed a field goal which would have iced the game for Washington. The Saints came marching in and won the game in overtime, 33-30. The very next day, the national unemployment rate went up by .0001% as Shaun found himself carrying a cardboard sign reading "Will kick things for $$$."
The lesson? Kickers have no margin for error. If Kobe Bryant--or hell, even Luke Walton--goes into a shooting slump tomorrow, the Lakers aren't going to toss him out onto Sepulveda Boulevard. If Ben Roethlisberger throws three picks in a game, he won't wind up smelting steel from 9-to-5. But if a kicker misses a must-have field goal? Or worse, a must-have extra point? He'd better start printing out the ol' resume, because it's back to the bread line for him.
But...I don't know if any position in sports has a shorter leash than an NFL kicker. Consider the case of poor Shaun Suisham. A few weeks ago Shaun lived happily as a Washington Redskin, kicking things to his heart's content. But in a game against the then-undefeated New Orleans saints, he missed a field goal which would have iced the game for Washington. The Saints came marching in and won the game in overtime, 33-30. The very next day, the national unemployment rate went up by .0001% as Shaun found himself carrying a cardboard sign reading "Will kick things for $$$."
The lesson? Kickers have no margin for error. If Kobe Bryant--or hell, even Luke Walton--goes into a shooting slump tomorrow, the Lakers aren't going to toss him out onto Sepulveda Boulevard. If Ben Roethlisberger throws three picks in a game, he won't wind up smelting steel from 9-to-5. But if a kicker misses a must-have field goal? Or worse, a must-have extra point? He'd better start printing out the ol' resume, because it's back to the bread line for him.
Buzzkill
I feel sorry for this teen's future girlfriend. It's tough enough trying to impress the parents of your significant other; imagine trying to win over his probation officer.
Hot Bird-on-Snake Action
Sometimes the simple things in life matter the most. Like, for instance, this story about a badass woodpecker going head-to-head with a giant snake. Hey, let it never be said I'm not easy to entertain.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Cracker Jack
Most Americans know about "Christmas crackers" only from reading Harry Potter or, if they're serious Anglophiles, from watching Mr. Bean. These crackers bear no resemblance to a Ritz or a Cheez-It. As far as I can tell, a cracker is a miniature firework that you detonate by pulling on it. British people seem to find this "fun" in the same way they find beefsteak "delicious" and Robbie Williams "talented."
But wait, there's more! Each cracker comes with a little joke hidden inside, as if it were a pyrotechnic fortune cookie. Yet over the past few years those jokes have gotten a little...stale. If this BBC story is accurate, the writers really had to scrape the bottom of the joke barrel. For instance: "Q: What country has a good appetite? A: Hungary." HA HA HA HA OH STOP IT BEFORE I DIE LAUGHING!
Things have to change. People expect quality from their crackers, dammit. They don't want any old pun. They want real jokes, good stuff like "How did the Vikings send secret messages? By norse code!" So the cracker-company is rewriting all the old, lame puns and replacing them with new, slightly-less-lame puns. I'm left with one question: how do you get the job of "Christmas-cracker-joke writer"? And where can I apply?
OK, I have one other question. One of the newer, hipper jokes goes: "What is Rudolph's favorite day of the year? Red Nose Day!" What the hell? Discuss.
But wait, there's more! Each cracker comes with a little joke hidden inside, as if it were a pyrotechnic fortune cookie. Yet over the past few years those jokes have gotten a little...stale. If this BBC story is accurate, the writers really had to scrape the bottom of the joke barrel. For instance: "Q: What country has a good appetite? A: Hungary." HA HA HA HA OH STOP IT BEFORE I DIE LAUGHING!
Things have to change. People expect quality from their crackers, dammit. They don't want any old pun. They want real jokes, good stuff like "How did the Vikings send secret messages? By norse code!" So the cracker-company is rewriting all the old, lame puns and replacing them with new, slightly-less-lame puns. I'm left with one question: how do you get the job of "Christmas-cracker-joke writer"? And where can I apply?
OK, I have one other question. One of the newer, hipper jokes goes: "What is Rudolph's favorite day of the year? Red Nose Day!" What the hell? Discuss.
Santa the Red-Nosed Alcoholic
First, sexy God. Now, drunk Santa. Is nothing sacred anymore? Thank God I have Scientology.
Two Links From the New Yorker That Prove How Brilliant and Cultured I Am, Etc.
First link: an interesting little blog post about how Tiger could have done a better job handling that whole bimbo-induced-career-meltdown thing. The short answer is he did everything wrong; the long answer is he did EVVVVVVVVERYTHING wrong.
It's very easy to sit back and play Monday-morning spin doctor, but I still have to agree with the author. Indefinite retirement from golf? It's like he was daring Letterman, Leno, and every other late-night comic to cut him up. Vanishing from the public eye doesn't make you look like a dedicated family man. It makes you look like a J.D. Salingeresque weirdo.
After all, a golfer without golf is just an er. If Tiger were out there doing the thing he does best--hitting a tiny white ball into a tiny little hole several hundred feet away using only a big chunk of metal--it would sop up press coverage that might otherwise go to Ex-Mistress #25. But no! The only thing we can do is speculate how much weirder it might get. And you can bet that doesn't help Tiger's public image. At all.
Same author, new link: forget the Madden cover jinx or the Sports Illustrated cover curse, the real trouble comes when you win Time's PERSON OF THE YEAR. From then on you go downhill, fast. It happened to Barack this year, and it's probably going to happen to Ben Bernanke in 2010. I'm a little worried, considering that I was named Person of the Year a couple years back. Does this mean I'm doomed?
Seriously, though, it's a good rule of thumb that when someone or something appears on a mainstream magazine cover, it's already played out. The sole exception is, of course, Old People Monthly. Its cover subjects only get better with age.
It's very easy to sit back and play Monday-morning spin doctor, but I still have to agree with the author. Indefinite retirement from golf? It's like he was daring Letterman, Leno, and every other late-night comic to cut him up. Vanishing from the public eye doesn't make you look like a dedicated family man. It makes you look like a J.D. Salingeresque weirdo.
After all, a golfer without golf is just an er. If Tiger were out there doing the thing he does best--hitting a tiny white ball into a tiny little hole several hundred feet away using only a big chunk of metal--it would sop up press coverage that might otherwise go to Ex-Mistress #25. But no! The only thing we can do is speculate how much weirder it might get. And you can bet that doesn't help Tiger's public image. At all.
Same author, new link: forget the Madden cover jinx or the Sports Illustrated cover curse, the real trouble comes when you win Time's PERSON OF THE YEAR. From then on you go downhill, fast. It happened to Barack this year, and it's probably going to happen to Ben Bernanke in 2010. I'm a little worried, considering that I was named Person of the Year a couple years back. Does this mean I'm doomed?
Seriously, though, it's a good rule of thumb that when someone or something appears on a mainstream magazine cover, it's already played out. The sole exception is, of course, Old People Monthly. Its cover subjects only get better with age.
Revenge of the Nerds
Captain James T. Kirk has conquered the Romulans. The Klingons. The Tribbles. And, apparently, the ability of women to succeed in science. It seems women are scared unscientific by the sight of stereotypically nerdy things like video games, comic books, and yes, Star Trek.
But does that really surprise you? To paraphrase ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man: "Every girl's frightened of a Star Trek fan!"
But does that really surprise you? To paraphrase ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man: "Every girl's frightened of a Star Trek fan!"
Sexy...God?
No, it's not next year's hottest Halloween costume...it's a billboard in Auckland. That was attacked by a little old lady wielding a knife. This is one of those situations where I don't know whether to be offended or amused, kind of like the time I watched "Jesus Vs. Superman."
Friday, December 18, 2009
The Best of the Best of the Best of the Best
Did you spend 2009 in a coma? If so, here's something to get you back up to speed: Time magazine's BEST AND WORST OF 2009 LISTS.
Wondering who the year's top Oprah protege was? Wonder no more!
Not sure where the best urban biking experiences are? Your prayers have been answered!
Want to know more about weird spa treatments? Buddy, have they got a page for you!
Looking for a list of the best-flavored toothpaste brands to come out of Mongolia since August? Well...you might have to keep looking. But you can find everything else you need. Seriously, who even needs to live through the year when you have best- and worst-of lists?
Wondering who the year's top Oprah protege was? Wonder no more!
Not sure where the best urban biking experiences are? Your prayers have been answered!
Want to know more about weird spa treatments? Buddy, have they got a page for you!
Looking for a list of the best-flavored toothpaste brands to come out of Mongolia since August? Well...you might have to keep looking. But you can find everything else you need. Seriously, who even needs to live through the year when you have best- and worst-of lists?
Science! Industry! Technology!
Hey, remember those little capsules that you could drop into a glass of water and watch expand into a little foam triceratops or tyrannosaurus or whatever? Weren't those things awesome? Well, science has finally caught up to water-soluble-foam-capsule technology. Take a look...I dare you tell me these glowing blue prairie voles don't look like they're made from foam.
Kidneybook
Here's a sweet story about a man who found a kidney donor via Facebook. I'm worried, though, that this might set a bad precedent. Sure, you might be giving away your kidney to somebody who really needs it, but how can you know for sure? They might be a fiendish Brit looking to enjoy a delicious steak-and-human-kidney pie. Beware!
Mini-Mini-Mini Review: Avatar*
It was good, but I kept wondering when Gargamel was going to show up.
*Note: I have not actually seen Avatar.
*Note: I have not actually seen Avatar.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The Dream Factory
Wow. A guy posts a good-looking YouTube video and lands a Hollywood contract? I've got to get in on that action. Time for some quick brainstorming. Hmmm...what if I strap a paper fin on my cat's back and have him destroy a scale model of Tacoma? Ka-ching!
Tennesse in One Sentence
"She says she is not sure how her 4-year-old managed to get out of the house, open a beer, and steal the neighbors presents from under their tree."
OK, that's not completely fair to Tennessee. This sort of thing could definitely happen in Manhattan or LA, though the kid probably would have gotten drunk on chardonnay instead of plain ol' beer.
OK, that's not completely fair to Tennessee. This sort of thing could definitely happen in Manhattan or LA, though the kid probably would have gotten drunk on chardonnay instead of plain ol' beer.
It's a Dog Eat Nebraskan World
I always knew pugs were evil, but I never realized just how evil...until I read this story. Note to self: put pets outside before committing suicide.
I'm Lovin' It, Albeit Grudgingly
Behold the McNuggetini! An delicious drink blending a chocolate McDonald's milkshake with vanilla vodka, rimmed with barbecue sauce and garnished with a single crispy McNugget. What's not to love? Aside from "everything about this disgusting abomination," of course.
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