Tuesday Tips

Okay, so, not really “tips.”  But since I’ve over-used words like “Randomity” and any variation thereof, I had to come up with something.  Besides, there is one very strong recommendation in today’s blog, so the title is technically accurate.   Somewhat.

A little.

Okay.

Let’s jump in.  Item number one:

It’s St. Paddy’s Day, NOT St. Patty’s Day.

We (and by “we” I mean “Americans”) just celebrated the storied, auld Hibernian Holiday celebrating the great Irish (probably Scottish, maybe English or Welsh) Saint Patrick.  Yanks, as many of you know, enjoy a great deal of cultural stereotyping and drunken foolishness whilst celebrating the life and times of a Christian martyr.  We dress up in plastic green Bowler hats (or are they Derbys?) and drink watery American light beer with food coloring in it because…fuck, I really have no idea.  Prettier puke?  None of that matters, however, as I was trying to make a point and got sidetracked.  Probably because I was (am) drunk, being that at least a third of my lineage is Irish, as I am a good old-fashioned American Mutt.

'MURICAN MUTT!!  (Get it?  It's not too subtle?  Okay.)

‘MURICAN MUTT!! (Get it? It’s not too subtle? Okay.)

Anyway.

Something that sort of irks me is the ongoing misuse of “St. PATTY’S Day.”  I mean, it’s not the worst thing in the world (no, that’s the use of “DUCK Tape” in lieu of “DUCT tape”) but it just sort of grates.  I mean, I get it: Patrick.  Shortened and made more familiar.  Patty.  Sure.  Makes sense.  Only, that’s not the dude’s name.  Not originally.  It was/is Padraig.  Irish.  Padraig.  Ever heard of a police van (or other vehicle) called a “Paddy Wagon?”  That originated in an interestingly double-sided bit of stereotyping/profiling.  See, they’d send out the cops to round up the drunken brawlers in places like New York, Boston, and Chicago, and as we all know, the only drunken brawlers of yesteryear were Irish.  Hence, they sent out the “PADDY Wagon” to haul the lot to the drunk tank.  Not a “PATTY Wagon” although if Mr. Krabs had his way, that’s exactly what it’d be.  The fun counterpoint here is that most of the arresting officers and regular beat cops in those same cities were, you guessed it:  Irish.  Sean Connery in “The Untouchables?”  Yeah.  Lots and lots of Irish cops rounding up Irish drunks in their goddam Irish getups drinking their goddam delicious dark red, amber, and brown beers and anyway, it’s SAINT PADDY, YOU ENGLISH COCKSUCKERS!

Ummm...I don't know how to tell you this, Ireland, but other than potatoes, well...

Ummm…I don’t know how to tell you this, Ireland, but other than potatoes, well…

Speaking of the Irish (the OTHER Irish) let me drop some cool Mexican futbol knowledge on ya…

The UNAM Pumas = University of Notre Dame Fighting Irish.

I love me some footy.  Sure, hockey is always going to be number one in my book, but goddam…LOVE me some footy.  Particularly the English variety.  Italian, Spanish, French…they’re all a bunch of diving pussies.  (Except for Messi.  Messi never falls.)  Maybe that’s because he’s from Argentina, and South American and Central American footy players seem to be made of sterner stuff.  Anyway, my favorite Western Hemisphere club team is Club de Fútbol Universidad Nacional A. C, otherwise known as UNAM Pumas.

I’ll be honest, the main reason I began supporting this Mexican side was their logo.  I liked the kitty-cat head and the way his nose sort of reminded me of the steps of a large ziggurat (that never looks like it’s spelled correctly) and the color scheme.  I really dig the gold and blue colors.  They look regal, clean…and, yes, somewhat familiar.

Regal.  Yes.  Regal as a motherfucker.

Regal. Yes. Regal as a motherfucker.

That’s because they are directly copied from the University of Notre Dame’s Fighting Irish.  Seriously.  The Pumas were almost a direct copy of ND’s American football team.  See, the Pumas began life as a college club team.  To this day, they play at a college stadium and the acronym UNAM stands for Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México or “The National Autonomous University of Mexico.”  Back in the early decades of the 20th Century, American Football was more popular in parts of Mexico than good old-fashioned futbol.  The UNAM kids asked the Notre Dame guys to come down and teach them Futbol Americano.  The Notre Dame guys left a big impression, along with a ton of their warm-ups and training gear.  It was a great cultural exchange, despite the fact that South Bend still doesn’t have very good Mexican restaurants to this day.  Eventually the Mexican club embraced European football instead of American, went pro, and here they are. They still wear the Notre Dame colors and still rock their university affiliation and I think that’s awesome.

Regal.

Regal.

Read Hawkguy.

Okay, I know I tend to geek out here.  My buddy Ray likes it when I go on my quantum-physics = Buddhism tangents and such, but goddam it, sometimes the best thing in the world to talk about is something geeky.  My blog, my interests.  Sorry, gang.  And now and then I also try to enrich your life by giving you tips.  Brothers and sisters, I have a big one for you.

Hawkeye.

No, not the guy from M*A*S*H who happened to be named after a James Fenimore Cooper character and Daniel Day Lewis dreamboat.  No, I’m talking about the archer who wears purple.  Marvel Comics’ blatant rip-off of Green Arrow.  The pretty much useless dude in The Avengers movie.  That guy.  Hawkguy.

Guest-starring John Goodman

Guest-starring John Goodman

I have my friend, the brilliant and handsome Professor Tony DiSanto, to thank for recommending the most recent iteration of the Hawkeye character.  Prior to the moment when he said “DO IT, ASSHOLE!  PICK UP THIS BOOK!” (I may not remember Tony’s exact words with 100% accuracy, but it was something like that) I honestly didn’t give two shits.   Hawkeye was always the “trick arrow” guy and stupid.  His mask was designed to look like Wolverine’s, only it had a big “H” on the top.  Seriously, Marvel?  You took Captain American’s “A” and made it a consonant and…those stupid cuffed pirate boots…and…and a hover-scooter…and…just no.  How about no?  NO.  I mean, sure, I enjoyed Jeremy Renner’s interpretation of the character, and in retrospect think they should have used him better in Joss Whedon’s blockbuster flick.  But overall, there just wasn’t anything about the dude that drew my attention.

Navy and purple are usually such a great combination.  Don't know what went wrong here...

Navy and purple are usually such a great combination. Don’t know what went wrong here…

Then Matt Fraction stepped in.  I can’t say this strongly enough:  the Hawkeye book(s) are some of the most brilliant storytelling I’ve ever read, especially from a major publisher.  Added to the writing (which is clever, smart, exciting, and sometimes a bit dark) is the amazing minimalist artwork.  The color palette is perfect, and little touches like the obvious placement of a strategic old-school Hawkeye character’s head over the current Clint Barton’s privates during a naked fight remind you that yes, this is a comic book.

Head.   Giggle.  Snort.

Head. Giggle. Snort.

But when he tells an entire section of one story through the eyes of Clint’s rescued pooch (Pizza Dog!) you see just how clever Fraction really is.  Wow.  Seriously, wow.  At times heartbreaking, other times hilarious,  I can’t recommend it enough.  Even if you hate comics (or if you’re a hipster that usually shuns the big labels) you owe it to yourself to pick up the trade paperback compilations (I got mine at the Allen County Public Library) and dig in.  This series, more than any that I’ve read over the last few years, show why comics are their own art form.  The nimble written prose of a great novel and the stylized visuals of an art-house movie;  it’s neither fish nor fowl, and that’s what’s great about it.  Matt Fraction’s Hawkeye.  Check it out.

Q & A, Part Two

**Cracks knuckles.  Sips Scotch.  Exhales.  Turns to keyboard.**

Here…we…GO!

Into part two.  Moar questions answered!  (And thanks for liking my Facebook page.  Seriously, it means a lot.  If you haven’t yet, feel free to visit it on the right-hand margin over there. I’ll wait.               Got it?  Good!)

Leslie asks “Is you mother still writing?”

Leslie and I are old theater cohorts, and she’s asking, literally, about my mom’s writing career.  Many people don’t know that my mother used to write romance novels.  She started out at Harlequin Romance, doing those monthly soft-core romances that you mom likes.  She dabbled with other publishers, and actually had a few books out with her name above the title.  In other words, her books said “LYNN TURNER” and then “NAME OF STORY” underneath.  And yes, Lynn Turner was a pen-name.  She took my middle name (yeah, so?  Lynn is just as masculine as…as…like, Dale or something) and first name, transposed them, and BAZINGA!  Fun fact:  later on, as the internet became “a thing” mom would do Alta Vista searches (remember AltaVista?  It was the Google of the mid-90’s) for “Lynn Turner” and found out that…SURPRISE!  Lynn Turner was a 90’s porn star.  Anyway, sadly, it’s been a  while since mom published anything.  She contributed a few items to anthologies and such for old editor friends, but nothing of late.  Perhaps she should start blogging…giving tips to aspiring writers and such.  Hint-hint, mom.  (Then again, she could be my editor, as I just finished a damned manuscript and have no self-control…)

This is actually still available for your NOOK reader!!

This is actually still available for your NOOK reader!!

A very special query from my dear friend Joe:  “Why do you do this on a weekly basis after our hockey games … Stand like Captain Morgan while holding a beer wearing ONLY your birthday suit or if I’m lucky you’ll throw on a shirt, but that’s it ?!?! I’ve seen your hog more than I’ve seen my own. Welp, see ya later.”

For those of  you that don’t know, Joe is one of my very best and dearest friends ever.  And I’m 43 years old, so that’s saying something.  Anyway, Joe is also the drummer in the band RAINS and my linemate on our beer-league hockey team.  Next to Smallville’s Michael Rosenbaum, he’s the most famous guy I’ve ever shared the ice with.  But his distress comes from the fact that, yes, I often throw my “hog” out for display.  See, my “hog” has gotten me attention in the past (due to its shimmering, glistening beauty…and a purplish vein on the side that spells out ‘radiant’ in cursive and OH GOD, STOP TYPING!!)  Anyhoo…ol’ Joe’s penis has been known to cure blindness and make the crippled walk.  It also, ironically, has crippled non-believers who won’t accept that it is the ultimate power in the universe and STOP TYPING!!  NOW!! THAT IS AN ORDER!)

Rather than post a picture of my "hog" I decided to remind you that 'Back in the Day' is available right now on iTunes.  Ahem.

Rather than post a picture of my “hog” I decided to remind you that ‘Back in the Day’ is available right now on iTunes. Ahem.

Daniel (or, as we call him in da Fort ‘Porch’) has a good ‘un:  “Why are you a closet case for your love of Batman over Spider-man.. or.. what attracts you to Spider-man and when did you first feel that chub?”

I intend to do an entire blog about Spidey, who is the super-hero with whom I most identify.  He really does deserve his own blog, so deep are my affections for ol’ Web-Head.  But my Batman love isn’t closeted in any way.  I love Batsy. In fact, Batman and Ambush Bug are my all-time favorite DC Comics characters.  And if you don’t know who Ambush Bug is, please do yourself a favor and run (RUN, I SAID!! MOVE YOUR GODDAM FEET!) to your nearest (local) comic book store and inquire.  They’ll steer you right.

Ambush Bug: the ORIGINAL Deadpool.

Ambush Bug: the ORIGINAL Deadpool.

Time for one more?  Okay.  One more.

Finally, this question from Jess:  “How do you balance family/real life with the bear?”

She’s referring, of course, to my primary job, which is hosting the midday show on 98.9 the Bear in Ft. Wayne (but with online listenership spanning the literal globe!  Wae’aye, Newcastle!)  The thing is, the radio side of my life is part of my “normal” life and vise-versa.  See, nowadays radio guys are just like audio bloggers.  We use our lives as show-prep.  By that, I mean that what happens to us away from the radio station informs upon the show itself.  Follow?  John the Mexican talks about his new house during his show, Barry Thickk talks up his latest blowjob adventure (SPOILER: it was with a LADY!)  Hell, I just had my kids in to do a show with me AGAIN.  This, because I am sick and tired of trying to find childcare during this hellish winter that we’re having in the midwest. The point is that if you have a family, and you’re going to do radio, well…they’d better just get used to the idea.  This isn’t TV or movies.  You don’t get to shoot the scenes and go home.  You work at it, constantly.  24 hours a day.  Your life is show-prep, and radio is your life. That’s just how it is.  Concerts, remotes, appearances, guest-judging wet t-shirt contests…it’s all part of your life, and the other way around.  It’s why radio is so trying, demanding, and exhausting.  It’s also why it’s so blissful.  If you’re gonna stay in this biz…and I’ve been doing it for over twenty years…you learn that there’s no other way.  Radio = your life.  And the other way around.

Of course, sometimes your life demands that you hang with Corey Taylor.

Of course, sometimes your life demands that you hang with Corey Taylor.

Celbri-Doodle-Dandy!

I know I’m supposed to posting new blogs based on the feedback I got a week or so ago when I solicited ideas from you, and I promise to get right back to it (and, hey?  Look at me with, what?  Three blogs in less than a week?) but the overload of celebrity-news crap that started with the Affleck-as-Batman bombshell and petered out with Mileygate, I felt it was my duty to keep up.  Besides, some of you really dig these fake celebrity scandal write-ups.  So let’s dive in!

Mindy’s Major Moxie Mission!!

This is what Renée Zellweger will look like in five more years.

CORRECTION: this is actually a picture of Renée Zellweger from the future.

Full-figured voice actress and former child star Mindy Cohn is hoping to revamp her Hollywood career by following in the sexy footsteps of Britney Spears, Selena Gomez, and most recently, Miley Cyrus, by putting on what has been described as “one sexy Vaudevillian burlesque!” at an upcoming awards show or Kroger grand opening.

“I’m just waiting for my opportunity to show the world what I got!  ‘Cause I got a lot…and it’s all HOT!!”  says the plus-sized vixen. Cohn has been working on a “suitably shocking” routine while working around her ongoing gig as the voice of Velma on the successful Scooby-Doo Mystery, Inc.  “We’re just waiting to hear back from either the Golden Globes or the new Kroger Supercenter in Studio City.  Whatever’s going to give us the most exposure for my exposure, if you catch my drift!”  Oh, we read you loud and clear, lady!  Loud and clear!

The Diceman Cometh to Tarantino Sequel!

ADC answers questions at the press meeting for Reservoir Dogs 2

ADC answers questions at the press meeting for Reservoir Dogs 2

Hot on the heels of the longtime funnyman’s surprise dramatic turn in Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine, the bombastic Andrew Dice Clay has already landed another high-profile project: the eagerly-anticipated sequel to Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs, tentatively titled Reservoir Dogs 2: Nice Guys Finish Last.  “It’s a blast!  Who knew, right?  Last flick I done, I get to work with a classy broad like Cate Blancett, who, you know…she’s English or some sh*t, so that’s class, buddy.  Class for days, am I rite?  And now?  Now I get to work with Stephen Baldwin AND that guy from Scrubs! [John C. McGinley, rumored] Unfrigginbelievable!”  Of course, some Hollywood types are taking a wait-and-see attitude towards Clay’s sudden cinematic chops.  Tarantino himself released the following statement:

“I’m so angry right now. Angry at myself for stupid rookie mistakes I made when we first shot Reservoir Dogs, my first film.  I stupidly overlooked a couple of loopholes when we signed the distribution rights, and now I’m powerless to stop this train wreck of a cluster-f*ck.  For starters, the title?  Apparently that’s a reference to Nice Guy Eddie, the character from the first film.  My problem?  Nice Guy Eddie is DEAD at the end of the movie, and the guy that played him is ALSO DEAD.  Hey, spoiler alert, assh*les:  EVERYONE DIES BUT MR. PINK!!  There can’t be a f*cking sequel!”

There has been no response from the studio, and the film remains in pre-production.

The Amazing Spider-Abs!

Your friendly neighborhood...um...JUST GET IN ME, C-TATES!!

Your friendly neighborhood…um…JUST GET IN ME, C-TATES!!

In a bombshell announcement that rocked the world of geek-culture for the second time in as many weeks, Columbia Pictures announced a bold last-minute re-casting of one of comicdom’s most popular characters.  With only weeks of production left on The Amazing Spider-Man 2 as the cast and crew strive for a May 2014 release date, the lead role of Peter Parker (who famously dons the mask as Marvel’s web-slinger) has been given the ol’ switcheroo.  Out is Andrew Garfield (The Social Network) who took over the red-and-blue tights for the first big reboot (The Amazing Spider-Man, 2012) and in is current it-boy and panty-dampener Channing Tatum.  The studio explained the sudden casting change this way:

“As much as we love Andrew, the test audiences just wanted someone ‘bulgier’ and ‘hotter.’  Plus, once the guys at Warner Brothers hit us with that Ben Affleck casting news, we knew we had to amp up the sex appeal in a big way.  I mean…have you seen the abs on C-Tates?!”  Tatum is no stranger to last-minute reshoots.  The release of G.I. Joe: Retaliation was delayed by a year in order to add more delicious Channing Tatum beefcake.  The same sort of frenzied shooting schedule is expected for the Spidey sequel if the studio sticks to its May release.

[NEXT WEEK IN CELBRI-NOOZ: STUDIO HEAD RECEIVES MASSIVE NUMBER OF DEATH-THREATS FROM ANGRY GEEK MOB!]

Incredibly Distracting…

Hey, gang!  It seems I’m blogging in fits and starts of late.  Sort of catch-as-catch-can, if you will. (That’s for you long-time readers!)  Sorry about the inconsistency.  Trying to get back into the rhythm of blogging, even though I am currently distracted by Rush playing tonight in Indianapolis.  In fact, I just heard “Mystic Rhythms” in my head as I typed that.  Damn it.

 

Anyway, today’s blog will be a quick one, and basically only exists to introduce you to something.  Like the spectre of Dave Bowman said in 2010, “Something wonderful.”  See, there’s this guy.  We’ll just call him “Vex.”  He’s an old-school geek like me, even though that word (geek) has been somewhat over-used of late.  The fact remains:  Vex and are are about a year apart age-wise and have similar tastes.  For example, he and I enjoy repeated viewings of “Buckaroo Banzai” and “Real Genius” for starters.  Recently, Vex read a book that I’d checked out last year called “Ready Player One.”  Here’s the site for said book:

http://www.readyplayerone.com/

 

Anyway, everyone told me the novel seemed to be  written with me in mind.  It’s chock-full of old-school computer game, comic, RPG (that’s Role Playing Games, not Rocket Propelled Grenade) and sci-fi references.  I found it  entertaining but, well…not the absolute greatest thing ever.  It was okay, and miles ahead of crap like the “Big Bang Theory.”  Vex, however, found it to be the epiphany he’d been waiting for, and went on to create his own game based loosely on the parameters set forth in “Ready…”  And he’s done a bang-up job.  Hell, the only thing missing is an OASIS rig, and I’ll bet Sexy Vexy is working on that as I write this.  I’m having a lot of fun with this little trivia endeavor.  So much so that I’m thinking of re-reading the book. And so much so that I’m about to do the worst thing (for me) possible:  give you the website and leaderboard so that you, too, can get in on the fun.  Why is this bad for me?  BECAUSE I WANT TO WIN, GODDAMMIT!!  The more people who play, the less my odds of winning.

Now, when you check out the scores, you’ll be intimidated.  Don’t be.  I was totally stuck on the first question until my lovely wife gave me a different perspective.  Now we’re only a little bit behind, and you can catch up FAST in this game.  yes, you may team up.  Yes, you can share with other players…but that is terribly risky.  Will others burn you to get ahead?  Absolutely.  That’s part of the fun.

Ain’t gonna stay this way for long.

 

So without further ado…strap on your haptic rig and follow this link.  And good luck. Any spare resources your mind had available are now considered forfeit.

 

http://poptopiamadness.com/

What Exactly Do You Want, Anyway?

Hey, gang!  You may not know it, but this page is officially over a year old now.  Yep.  And when you reach those kind of milestones, you sort of take inventory of what you’ve got and what you’ve wrought (RHYME!!  YEAH!!) So I recently had me an idea.  I was going to split this blog up and do two separate pages.  One would be my usual sci-fi, comic book, geektastic blog and the other would be the one where I tackled more serious subjects like war and quantum physics.  Both would be rich in that good ol’ Turner Watson humor and irony (and I mean RICH!!) and have plenty of misspellings and run-on sentences.  Seriously, it’s kind of a fun little game to play when I publish a new post:  Spot The Bad Stuff!  Sigh.  I know, I know.I thought better of it.  The splitting-up idea.  The thing is, this little craptastic bullhorn of mine is different things to different people, and if I can turn the guy who’s here to read about Dazzler’s first appearance in X-Men on to some serious old-school pomade and style tips, then I’ve done my job! 

I have totally just confused the rockabilly set.

So after deciding to scrap the break-up, I looked at my search stats again.  This is one of my favorite quick-and-dirty blog topics, as some of you already know.  It’s still fun and often mind-boggling to see the search terms that have led people here.  Search engines have been responsible for 17,308 visits to my site. Since it’s kind of a one-year anniversary special, here are some of the all-time search results which were responsible for people clicking on this page.  Number one surprised me a bit…

Raise your hand if you want four more years of Obama!
D’OH!!

Grammar Nazi.  This search is number one with a staggering 1,238 searches.  This does not include the variants thereof, like the ironic “grammer nazi” with 54 searches or “grammarnazi” with 42.  Wow.  I did ONE BLOG on that subject, but obviously it was something on everyone’s mind this year.  Okay then. What could possibly be Number Two on the search list?

Oh, hey! Wouldja look at that!

Amish. The irony, of course, is that the Amish are not allowed to use the internet.  HA!  JOKE’S ON YOU, BEARDY-STRAW-HAT-BOY!! Also, there were eight searches for “amišai” that led to my page.  Apparently, that’s a Lithuanian word for “Amish.”  True story.  Lithuanian people are searching for first-hand accounts of the mysterious Amišai and finding their way here.  And to them I would say “Dėkojame, Lietuvos žmonių!”

This is actually getting kinda fun.

Carrot Top and fake tans account for a good chunk of search-term visits, but there’s ONE particular post that has had enough disparate searches combined that it ends solidly in third place. Ladies and gentlemen, the Big Bang Theory.  For the uninitiated, I’m not referring to the actual theory that attempts to explain the first moments of our universe, but rather the mediocre television show that attempts to describe (and bring about) the end of geek culture.  There has been SOOOOO much hate, praise and discussion of this stinking turd of sitcomdom on sites like Reddit that I suppose it was only natural that some of those curious parties would find their way to my fetid little swamp of cyberdom.  In fact, just on this post alone, there have been 7,364 pageviews.  This is not including the people that came in through the “front door” and then clicked on that blog.  I’d post the numbers but am already patting myself heartily on the back, so more ego-stroking isn’t necessary anyway.  But, wow…talk about hitting a nerve!  That’s why I do this shit, you know.  I’d really suggest EVERYONE get their own blog and say whatever you want.  It’s like Facebook but with fewer things that you can share or “like” if you hate breast cancer or Chick-Fil-A.

Okay, maybe I’m getting a little carried away…

Finally, I have to give you mad props.  Yes, you.  You know who you are.  You’ve shared this blog from your Facebook a grand total of 10,838 times.  Wow. Reddit is responsible for 5,492 referrals, and your Twitter shares put 676 butts in the seats, so to speak.  StumbleUpon, WordPress itself, hell even the website of my of employers, 98.9 the Bear helped out.  Outstanding and wonderful.  Thanks again for those wonderful numbers, but thanks even more for reading.  Expect my next post to be about “Fake-Tanned Nickelback Guest-starring On the Amish Bang Theory.”  Can’t miss.

Quickly, Quickly…

Holy crap…how long has it been? Last few weeks have been cray-cray!  (I do so love that expression.  By my next blog it’ll be so over I’ll wish for “Waaazzzzzuuuup!” to make a return.  Or perhaps “Yeah, baby!”)

So lets just catch up and I’ll lay some knowledge on you.  For example, later this month will be the “official” one-year anniversary of this place being open for business.  I don’t really think we got going until August, but since my first post here was a re-blog of one of my Facebook notes…yeah.  (Speaking of Facebook, how ’bout when some of us thought Google+ was gonna run roughshod over Zuckerberg?  Also, what the fuck is “roughshod”?)  But the point is, thanks for reading (and following and sharing!) because as I sit here and review stats I’ve had close to 43,000 views since then.  Sure, a good 1/3 of those are from people reading my Big Bang Theory rant (actually, only 7,148 views on that one, but still…)

But enough about me!  My delusions of grandeur are well-documented. It’s time to see what draws some of you miscreants to this sordid chunk of the interwebs. Here are todays’ top search criteria, or rather the searches that led folks here…

 

grammar nazi

paul watson is a douchebag

selina kyle porn

grammarnazi

shakespeare in love kiss

dinosaur meme workout

carrot top before and after

hulk vs the incredible hulk movie

i fucking love cocaine

 

Who exactly is Paul Watson?  I mean, we might be related!  (Actually, I think it’s in reference to the Canadian environmental activist who fights against things like shark finning, which some of you know I absolutely detest.  If he’s a douchebag for trying to stop a ship from engaging in that horrible practice, then the Canadian connotation of “douchebag” must really mean “epic hero with balls of solid vibranium.”)

Technically, it’s “Free Captain Watson with purchase of regular drink” but it’s a nice gesture.

 

Also, what exactly would happen if the Hulk actually fought the movie “The Incredible Hulk?”  I mean, on a metaphysical level it would be interesting.  Like, if he stood outside the theater protesting with a big sign that read “HULK THINK TOO MUCH PATHOS!!  GRRAAAAAAGHHH!!  STILL BETTER THAN ANG LEE MOVIE!! HULK NOT PAY FOURTEEN DOLLARS FOR LARGE POPCORN COMBO!!” I would show up and cheer him on.  If, however, he literally fought the cast, crew, writer, director, producer, and food service people…whoa, that could get ugly.  I love Edward Norton, but pound-for-pound I’m going with the Other Guy.

” I will not be bullied by some dissatisfied fanbo–GAAAHHHH!!!!”

 

And I believe that P-90X is on the way out.  So is that “Insanity” thing.  Yep.  They’re the new Tae-Bo and soon health-conscience men and women will be engaging in the new hotness:  The Dinosaur Meme Workout.  It’s great, only takes fifteen minutes of Reddit a day, and leaves you with a lean, sexy core! Why, even Carrot Top is using it!  remember when he was a skinny redheaded Wendy’s rip-off?  Well, feast your eyes!

Wait, no! I meant AVERT your eyes! Avert! Man, I’m so sorry, guys.

Thanks for reading, though.  Writing feels good.  Having someone read it is better.

 

 

 

Everlasting Blog Whopper

I wanted to post my full review of The Avengers, but since you prolly just saw it, I won’t bore you.  You know it was awesome, and you know that without the assembled cast (see what I did there?) and Joss Whedon at the helm, it wouldn’t have worked.  Oh, it’s also great to see that SOMEONE finally got the Hulk right.  Not just Dr. Banner, though Mark Ruffalo was pitch-perfect…no, I mean the CGI incarnation of the Hulk was completely awesome.  So much s that I really hope Hollywood rolls the dice again, because I would pay to see an entire Hulk movie if it was done as well as the characterization in The Avengers.

Number One is the winner, but Number Four is a close second.

Moving on…

A couple of random thoughts, one of which I may have mentioned before, but which really struck me when I saw the preview for Battleship.  The US Navy has unlocked a spiffy new digital blue camo pattern for their deckside troops and sailors, corpsmen, etc.  The obvious drawback to this cool new color scheme is that once someone falls overboard they are impossible to find.  “ALL I SEE IS BLUE, CAPTAIN!! WHERE IS ENSIGN JOHNSON?!?!  JOOOHHHHHNSSSOOOOOON!!!!”  Maybe they should be made of a material that turns blaze orange when it gets wet. “Captain, there!  Just off the port bow!  It’s Johnson, sir!  Stupid bastard fell in again, but thanks to that neon orange uniform, we’ll have him back aboard in no time, captain!”

“We’ll wear these green ones in the swamps, people. We want to DISAPPEAR.”

Remember Compact Disc Players?  Those were awesome.  I don’t wanna brag or nothin’, but my vehicle has a six-disc changer right in the dashboard.  Yep.  Well, apparently, if you don’t use your disc changer/player for five months or so, it kinda gets…lazy.  As in, doesn’t work too well.  Keep in mind that my Escape is about ten years old, so the under-used electronics might be showing their age.  Anyway, I wanted to play some Volbeat tunes that I don’t have loaded on my iPod (NO, YOU SHUT UP!!  I’VE BEEN BUSY IS ALL!)  Before loading a new CD, I had to eject one of the discs already in there.  That’s where the problems began.  For those of you that have never spent time with this sort of archaic technology have never experience the numbing fear one experiences when the words “ERROR – – UNABLE TO EJECT DISC–” or similar words of digital madness scrawl painfully, quickly in evil green bits of mocking hate across the primitive LED faceplate.  So you try it again.  And again you are denied.  Panic starts setting in.  You try to change disc slots.  “Let’s try disc five, and then I’ll go back to disc one.  Probably just a little dusty.”  No dice.  Again.  Now the droplets of sweat begin racing one another down either side of your nose and your are suddenly aware of how hot it is in the car.  Then, cruelty: on the thirteenth try you hear it…a sickening subsonic whirring noise.  Somewhere deep inside the analog wiring and Chinese-assembled plastic gears and tiny metal springs and levers, something is trying to work.  SOME part of the mechanical beast is trying to wake up and deliver your cherished CD back to you, back to the surface world and sunlight and hope…so you mash the “EJECT” button with one thumb on top of the other, pushing until the meat of your flesh turns pink, then white…and you hear it…the small “click” and you SEE it…the very tip of the disc, a sliver of silver and greenish plastic…a giant’s pinkie nail barely, almost imperceptibly showing itself like the final silvery sliver of the last crescent before a New Moon.  You hold your thumb on the button and manage to sort of get a tiny little purchase on the disc with the other hand.  “C’mon…please…” you mutter through teeth ground fast together.  You wiggle the disc, pulling, coaxing a nanometer at a time…your sweaty fingers slip off, and you grab it again…a centimeter more is showing…the gears of the monster are grinding and whirring…this black plastic-and-graphite bitch isn’t giving up her prize so easily, but you can feel the beast’s willpower waning…the spell breaking…clearly now you see the sharpie-scrawled label “Summer Mix #3” as the disc is halfway out…now three-quarters…and finally it leaps out of the dashboard and you hold it aloft like Excalibur itself, gleaming in the midday light, motes of dust swirling and dancing and singing your praises, exalting you and this victory of man over machine.  Momentum is on your side, and tide of battle has turned.  Rohan has come at last, and the enemy is routed, fleeing…Disc Slot Two yields the Wiggles Hot Potatoes LIVE!…Slot Three produces Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting” (THAT’S where that thing was!)…Number Four is surprisingly empty…Five angrily spits out Fatboy Slim, and finally Bing Crosby’s “Merry Christmas” (or “White Christmas” depending on the year/label) strolls out of the final Disc Slot and lights a pipe, humming to itself and smiling.  And it occurs to you then how fickle and wonderful are the odds that made this possible, and how you could have been consigned to a fate of hearing “Christmas in Killarney” over and over again in the middle of April.  And then you realize that perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad a fate at all.

My three-year-old thinks Bing looks like me. Probably because I drink too much and hit him. KIDDING! It’s the hat.

Super. Hawt. (Part Two)

Okay then.  Let’s get to it! And we’ll start with one of the greatest paragons of the Empowered Woman in any medium.  No, not Wonder Woman.  We’ve already been over this, people.  No, I’m talkin’ bout…

SHE-HULK.

Yes, her name is vaguely sexist.  Considering that her debut was in 1980, after a decade of women’s-lib protests and ERA debate, they could’ve done better.  But they also could’ve done MUCH worse.  Hulkette?  Hulkina?  At least “SHE” was front and center, and very much countered the “HE-man” mentality so prevalent before men learned to enjoy quiche. Her back-story went like this: Jennifer Walters, successful attorney and daughter of an LA County Sheriff, also happens to be the cousin of one Dr. Bruce Banner.  You already see where this is going.  She gets shot by mobsters the same day ol’ cousin Bruce happens to be in town.  She needs a blood transfusion, their biological DNA and blood types match, so ta-dah!  Bruce’s blood saves her!  But then mobsters try and finish her off and she gets mad and BLA-DAMMM!!!  She-Hulk.  But what makes She-Hulk so damned cool is that she learns to control her Hulk-Out episodes and decides to STAY THAT WAY ALL THE TIME.  She ends up being literally perfect: the brains and legal smarts of Jennifer Walters, the long legs, huge boobs, and killer smile of She-Hulk.  Oh, and even though she’s not quite as strong as her male cousin, she’s bad-ass enough that she fills in for the mothafuckin’ THING in the mothafuckin FANTASTIC FOUR for a spell.  So let’s recap:  she’s a brilliant trial lawyer who happens to be tough enough to replace a guy whose catch-phrase was “It’s CLOBBERIN’ time!”  She took the job of one of the toughest men on the planet and didn’t miss a beat.  Also, the price she paid for her new-found beauty?  She’s green.  That’s it.  She’s a woman who is comfortable in her own skin, literally, and isn’t afraid to flaunt her sexuality while maintaining the respect of her co-workers (who happen to have SUPER POWERS) and pursuing legal justice at the same time.  There is no female character more complete and THAT, friends, is what makes her so damned sexy.

If only she'd prosecuted OJ...

STARFIRE

You know that old Beatles/Elvis argument?  That you can enjoy both but always prefer one over the other?  Turns out that the same applies to the weed/booze and Marvel/DC dichotomies. I must confess that I have always preferred Marvel’s products until they go off the rails (cough! mutantmassacre. cough!) and then I dive into the DC universe and remember that they have some great titles.  During one of these spells I got heavily into the Teen Titans, and, well…Starfire.  Good God.  She’s an alien princess who can harness solar energy or somesuch to allow her to fly and fire energy bolts or what the hell ever man, TITTIES!!!  Sorry.  Also, when she flies her hair appears to be her primary means of propulsion and TITTAYS!!!  Okay, so I don’t remember as much about her back-story other than I think she was dating Nightwing. And that her skin was a golden yellow-orange, much like Snooki.   A friend of mine from college (cough! DamonMiles. cough!) pointed out on Facebook that between Orion Slave Girls, She-Hulk, and Starfire, I certainly go for chicks with otherworldly skin-tones.  To which I reply “Oh, yeah? well…” and my voice trails off as I stare down at my Chuck Taylors.  Goddammit.

And let's be clear: this is from an ACTUAL comic, not fanboy art. I would STILL spank to this. And by "would" I mean "just did."

GWEN STACY

A moment of silence, please.

Thank you.  Sometimes when I drink my Yoo-Hoo wif mah krew, I pour a li’l out for GS.  For those of you that don’t know, Gwen was not “super” in any way.  She was simply Peter Parker’s first love.  The Green Goblin (SPOILER ALERT!)essentially killed her.  Spidey tried to save her, and, um…might have caused the whiplash that killed her.  But let’s face it, after being thrown from that bridge, she was a goner anyway.  Spidey tried.  Spidey failed.  This is why I love comics. And specifically why I prefer the likes of Spidey or Batman to Superman.  They’re not perfect.  Not by a longshot.  Anyway, Gwen was beautiful, blonde, smart…and human.  A regular girl.  Obviously Peter Parker fell for her pretty hard, but, c’mon…dude was a scrawny geek.  Having been a scrawny geek most of my life, let me tell you that we still aim pretty high. Gwen was pretty amazing.  But she’s still not as hot as that other girl next door…(BONUS SPOILER ALERT!  You-know-who is on the list later, Tiger.)

Remember, skinny geeks: this could totally happen to YOU!!

ROGUE

Okay, here’s the thing: I don’t really know what it is about Rogue that made her one of my faves.  Maybe it’s that streak of white hair.  Maybe it’s her southern accent (“Sure thing, sugah!”)  Maybe it’s because you never really knew where she was coming from.  Her connection to Mystique…her stealing of Carol Danvers’ life essence…her memory gaps.  But let’s be honest, the hottest thing about Rogue has always been that you can’t touch her.  She absorbs powers, thoughts, etc. by skin contact.  So you’d have to have sex whilst wearing a wetsuit/condom contraption.  Which is pretty goddam sexy on its own, amirite?  Hello?  Is this on? Dang.  Rogue is forbidden fruit.  And boy, isn’t that always the tastiest?  Let me go ahead and answer that one:  yes.  Yes, it is.  Sugah.

She can steal your entire identity though skin contact. Totally worth it, really.

NEXT ISH:  WHO IN THE WORLD COULD THAT BE LURKING IN THE SHADOWS?  SOME SORT OF CAT?  AND, WAIT…MORE CIVILIAN HOTNESS IN THE MIGHTY MARVEL STYLE?! STAY TUNED, TRUE BELIEVERS!  EXCELSIOR!!

Super Questions…

Well, it’s been a good week and kind of a “meh” week.  On one hand, Reddit hates me because I trashed “Big Bang Theory.”  It’s okay:  that’s what Reddit does, and I’m cool with that. At the other end of the spectrum, one of my Tweets made Tosh.0 the other night.  Score.  Andy Warhol said that in the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.  But he said that in the 70’s.  Adjusted for inflation, everyone will be famous for about the length of a “Guy on a Buffalo” video.  Shit, I almost made it…

Anyway.  In part to make up for the geek-related hatred my last blog spawned, I thought I’d ask for your help in clearing up some  comic-related issues I had.  For example:

Wolverine’s Healing Properties

So, Wolvie’s gone through some serious backstory/retconning over the last fifteen years or so.  (SPOILER ALERT: his name isn’t Logan!)  Once, he had all the adamantium removed from his body by Magneto.  Ouch.  The good news is that he discovered that his healing properties were actually being hindered by all that metal.  Once, he was completely incinerated…and GREW BACK!!  That got me wondering.  What if Wolverine got cut in half?  Is it beyond the realm of possibility that he would grow into TWO Wolverines? Like cutting a worm in half?  Or would his lower torso just shrivel up and die?  If he did grow a whole new self, it would be kind of selfish of him NOT to cut himself in half a bunch of times in order to grow a whole army…ARMY X!!  SNIKT!!

HULK WANT TWO WOLVERINES!!

Planet of the Apes

This is a stretch, but in the far-flung future, when Apes Rule Everything Around Me, what if one of them were bitten by, say, a radioactive spider?  What would he call himself?  “Spider Monkey,” of course.  But that would be like a modern-day superhero calling himself European American or somesuch.  Also, what good would the ability to climb be to a race of beings that, well…already climb real good-like?

A crime is in progress...must throw poop!

Superman is a dick

Cracked covered this in one of their articles about movie editing, but it’s always bothered me, so we’ll discuss.  In the movie “Superman” ol’ Supes flies to the rescue of a town that’s about to be wiped out by a breaking dam.  But by so doing, he lets Lois Lane die when her car gets all fucked-up by the earthquake.  Superman gets all sad, and you remember what happened next: he flies around the world, super-fast…backwards…to REVERSE TIME! (Suck it, Einstein!)  Then he swoops down, says something witty, and rescues Lois.  Yayyy!  Love conquers all! Except that, you know…by rescuing Lois, he’s nowhere NEAR the GODDAM DAM (see what I did there?) that’s about to break and wipe out a village of 3,000 souls.  Did I miss something?  I mean, shit, even Spock knows that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.  Way to go, Superfag.

In fairness, THIS is the worst thing to come out of the Superman franchise.

The Hulk’s pajama jeans

They’re really the only possible explanation.  But why purple?  Purple stretch jeans that don’t get ripped to shreds and expose his big, green junk to the world?  Where the fuck do you even BUY those?  Jesus, Dr. Banner…I thought you were a genius or something.  Too bad you dress like a homeless guy hanging around outside of Denny’s.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angr-GAAHHH!! BEES! BEES IN MY MIND!! I'LL FIGHT YOU!