In this week’s episode we’re talking MARVEL. We talk Iron Man 3, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and more! We breeze over what TV shows have been cancelled and the new FALL schedule for NBC. You’ll find out who we’d have sex with out of Amanda Knox, Casey Anthony, and Jodi Arias–AND you get to find out who Dan would have sex with out of Mark Ruffalo, Michael Fassbender, and Val Kilmer! Fun show this week!
Filed under Movie Review, Podcast, Television, Top Story
Re-watching “Heroes” on Xfinity. I forgot how great it used to be.
A funny thing happened while channel-surfing today. Do people still use that term? “Channel Surfing?” Anyways, when I say “funny,” I mean: horrifying. If there is true evil in the world, its name is Minute To Win It.
NBC in their infinite wisdom has picked up on a sure-thing: a game show that’s so frustrating to watch, people are actually tuning out. Not only have they decided not to pick up any good television, but they purge themselves of the good shows they used to have, and then pick up shows so terrible that you have to force yourself to avoid it at all costs.
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, Minute To Win It is a game show hosted by celebrity “chef,” host, and T.G.I. Friday’s enthusiast Guy Fieri that combines the sadistic urge to watch every day people perform impossible stunts with the masochistic notion of forcing yourself to watch it.
The trials contestants endure to win semi-decent amounts of money aren’t degrading, death-defying, or even interesting. They have to stack cups, knock over pins, throw bean-bags, bounce balls, and humor Guy Fieri…all within minute-long segments as their prize money increases.
It’s almost like Nickelodeon’s Double Dare with no trivia, no humor, and no entertaining physical challenges (unless you count Guy Fieri–seriously, the man’s a fucking cartoon).
The show capitalizes on the American sense of “I could do that! Why am I not on this show?” Game shows like Jeopardy and Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? offer reward for intelligence. Sporting events reward athletic ability. Minute To Win It rewards menial tasks and expects that a large audience will continue to tune in to participate in the “fun.”
Whoever encourages Guy Fieri is doing the rest of this country an enormous disservice...
What else is on? Well, if you’re not watching LOST, you’re probably still watching American Idol; and if you’re not watching network TV, you’re probably watching Netflix or the multitude of free programming online.
If you’re not watching anything, count your blessings–because at least you’ll know that there’s absolutely no chance that you may accidentally tune in to Minute To Win It.
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I’ll say it so you don’t have to: The Olympics are fucking boring. Yes, I recognize the athletic achievement and national pride (blah blah blah) that go along with this ancient sporting event, but it sucks. It’s not fun to watch and it’s even less fun to hear people talk about.
That’s right–Americans don’t give a shit about the Olympics. They don’t. Yes, the Olympics are viewed by millions and millions on TV, but that’s only because we–as Americans–feel that we have to watch it. Aside from Hockey and the Little League World Series, how often do we get to rub the world’s nose in the fact that we’re better at everything?
Oh, right…every day.
Also, trust that your most talented winter Olympic athletes are most likely the same fags that you won’t allow to get married or join the military. Take Apolo Ohno–amazing athlete–looks so much like a lesbian that you’d half-expect him to be pregnant on Entertainment Tonight.
(Not a Lesbian)
It’s not fair to the rest of the world that we kick so much ass. That’s why we have to let Canada win sometimes. We should have a “Special Olympics” (no, not that kind of Special Olympics)–an alternative Olympics that includes activities and events that Americans may not be so fucking good at. Feel free to send me your suggestions, but I’m pushing for:
Drug Dealing, Child Sex-Trading, Manufacturing Anything, Test-Taking, Slave Labor, Foreign Languages, and General Passion About Anything…just to name a few.
It truly bothers the hell out of me that Saudi Arabia isn’t winning the big gold. Perhaps if we had an event for Sodomy or Rape, it would increase the odds a little.
You know there’s nothing sexier and more exhilarating than blatant disregard for human rights.
What really boggles the mind is that even in the dullness of the event, there remain those who choose to protest its continuation. It’s hard to tell if the protesters are simply reacting to the Vancouver location, or if they just hate the Olympics in general. If the answer is the latter, I suggest they just tune in to the CBS fucking golf fucking tournament.
The Olympic Resistance Network (a bunch of dicks), presumably made up of alcoholics, hipsters, and drug addicts who needed something to do rationalizes their destruction and threats by claiming some ultimate goal of returning the land to Native Indians–or if not, just get some public housing projects going.
You live in your parents’ basement, what the shit do you care about public housing?
The reality is that the Olympics are so lame that putting on a mask, smashing windows, and vandalizing cars has become the better option in Vancouver.
At what point does an event that prides itself on pushing the limits of human achievement simply become a twisted reality show? I promise that when the Olympics are moved to FOX and the name is changed to Let’s See Who Lives, the whole world will be much more interested–or at least I’ll be.
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(Continued from Part 1)
Without procrastinating too much longer, let’s dive right into the heat of the ultimately worthless life of the real-world superhero. Many of these individuals are genuinely attempting to do something good; but the world is full of real violence and horror–the likes of which none of these glorified Mummers have ever experienced.
The dream is novel, but without them possessing actual superhuman abilities, I’d rather not have a flamboyant human target defending fucking anyone!
From a list of well-over 100 ridiculous non-heroes, here are some of the most entertaining.
Superhero
Powers do not include Creativity.
It seemed only natural to start with a ‘Real Life Super Hero’ who actually adopted the name “Superhero.” That seems a little pretentious, even for a muscle-bound douchebag in a bandanna and spandex who poses next to other people’s cars.
Whitley’s Batman and Robin
Somehow a Middle-Aged 'Boy Wonder' seems wrong...
This embarrassing, copyright infringing duo is said to defend Whitley, England by “helping stranded motorists” and “fighting light crime.” I wonder what the reaction is when it turns out that the “Bat-Mobile” is a grey Van with no back windows.
Nostrum
I don't want my superhero to be waving at a webcam.
Looking more like a 1920′s bank robber than a Super Hero, Nostrum is said to defend the mean streets of Louisiana from all kinds of crime; however, this grainy photo suggests to me that perhaps he’s simply gone missing. It looks like the kind of photo that gets captioned: “Adult Male was last seen roaming around neighborhoods dressed like a fucking assclown.”
Entomo
Somehow makes Spider-man look straight
Typically, when Superheroes are ‘born,’ they had been subjected to some kind of accident or freak occurrence which caused them to develop bug-like powers. No one in their right mind would choose to have a bug’s abilities. This guy roams the streets of Italy holding out hope that someone will eventually take him seriously as the fly in Crime’s Italian Wedding Soup.
Perhaps a better decision would have been to call himself “The Bee.” His power would be committing suicide as soon as he attacks his first bad guy.
Zetaman
Greek Translation: "The very last person you'd want to call."
A member of a Superhero Activist Team called The Alternates, Zetaman’s self-affirmed super-human abilities include First Aid, CPR, and “handing things out.” This may seem very similar to the repertoire of the average Cub Scout; however Zetaman has his own comic book, flashlight/megaphone gun (..or something), and–hey–at least he doesn’t have to take public transpor—fuck…
Amazonia
Honestly, a very visually intimidating dude.
Yes, Amazonia is 100% all-natural clenched-fisted woman. As a member of the Florida hypothetical vigilante group, Vixens of Valour, she uses her powers–which are typically reserved for out-drinking men at bars–for the practical purposes of contributing to the inevitable years of therapy that her non-existent children would have been forced to endure.
The Black Monday Society
What upsets me most about The Black Monday Society is that its members (from left to right): Insignis, Ghost, and Oni consist of a kid in his early twenties and two men almost twice his age. These are all adults who should know better; but to be fair, all of these “Real Life Super Heroes” are!
It’s terri-fucking-fying individuals like these that do the public more harm than good and wind up making the Cops’ job even more difficult; dealing with actual crime while making sure these fucktards don’t get themselves killed. Well, this would be true, if there were any actual crime in Layton, Utah.
Red Arrow
...Like the Green Arrow, only...wait...nothing like the Green Arrow.
Somewhere in Hong Kong, a lone warrior emerged and is now apparently functioning in the UK. Not much is none about this caped crusader aside from his ridiculous, impractical outfits, paired with the fact that his primary super-power seems to be his ability to direct passersby to local discount sales. The Red Arrow has been known to hand out presents to children on Christmas; but one thing sets him apart from the mythical Santa Claus…he is tragically real.
Terrifica
Keeping Men out of her pants since 1980
A surprisingly well known heroine, Terrifica made her rounds popping into local bars and aiding women who look like they may be inibriated and in danger of being taken advantage of by men. She carried a utility belt loaded with pepper spray, makeup, and such to fight off potential predators and men looking to hook up with drunk chicks.
One interesting bit of information: At one point Terrifica had an arch-nemesis called Fantastico who was essentially just a costumed douche who went to bars to prey on women just to piss her off. That’s why you cheer for the bad guys.
But, evidently, the World’s most notorious cock-blocker has gone into retirement. I suppose she came to the eventual conclusion that her M.O. paired with her insanely repelling costume wasn’t helping her get laid. After all, sometimes even a cunt needs a dick.
Doktor DiscorD
I think I went to Art College with this guy.
Confirmed “active” by National Public Radio, the good ‘Doktor’ of Indiana’s Justice Society of Justice seems like he is involved in a large-scale joke that he simply isn’t quite aware of. They don’t care about mild victimless crimes like drug-use; they’re mainly concerned about the real scary shit that goes on in fucking Indianapolis…
I assume their lax stance on drug crimes indicates that DiscorD and all of his buddies are hitting the wacky-tobaccy. I can’t imagine Batman’s super-suit set up with 3D Glasses and a vanity cane.
Antithesis
The Captain America of the Internets
I honestly can’t get past this picture. This has got to be, hands down, the most awesome Real Life Super Hero I’ve ever seen. With a name that literally means “the direct opposite,” I find myself wondering exactly what he may be the opposite of. His current status on his MySpace is: “Antithesis Still alive, just got in a bit over my head… and now whatever lead I might have had is gone for good. I apologize for my absence.”
I can only assume that this means he’s been left lying in a gutter somewhere after some kind of inane battle…I mean, what do you expect when your super abilities fall short of “growing a mustache.”
Master Legend
Seen here posing with someone physically unable to walk away.
When the Real Life Role Players are young, stupid, and full of unfounded hope, I can understand the escapism involved in attempting to become a Superhero…but when the jerk-off is older than your dad, and dead-set on the idea that he is doing the world some kind of monumental fucking favor, it just gets a little sad. The greatest thing that Master Legend has done for society is allowing the kid he’s posing with to be able to say: “Shit, at least I’m better off in life than this douche.”
Tothian
This is what it takes to be a Hero: dick.
Patrolling the New York/New Jersey area, Tothian seems to be the closest superhero to Philadelphia…and this scares the shit out of me. He is the founder and former President of the Heroes Network and, yet…somehow…I still can’t force myself to believe that he’s making America safer. In fact, he may be the third worst thing to ever happen to New York, trailing closely behind CATS and September 11.
Zoria and Captain Prospect
Stan Lee presents: The Pussy-Whipped Avenger!
As the sworn protectors of Washington, DC, the team of Zoria and Captain Prospect announce to the world not only that Halloween and leg-warmers are not over, but also that if you thought your friend was the most pussy-fucking-whipped bro on the planet, you have some apologizing to do. As if it weren’t maddening enough that there’s a hot super heroine out there who has the potential of being severely mentally ill, but she just might have a boyfriend who doesn’t have the testicular fortitude to slap her (or fuck her) out of it.
Polar Man
I'd love to meet his arch nemesis...temperate weather?
One key factor that all of these unbelievable human beings have in common, aside from being completely fucking nuts, is the desire to take crime into their own hands, or, at least–to give their surrounding community the illusion of protection. What exactly is this person trying to prove?
In a world where there are no snow plows, public service officials, volunteers, or citizens with any kind of personal motivation to get out of bed in the morning, we can count on Polar Man to shovel our fucking walkway.
Lupine
The power of a wolf and the appearance of a baby gorilla
Don’t be fooled. That’s not a utility belt, it’s a genuine holster for all of his lunch boxes. I know there are a lot of overweight police officers, fire fighters, and civil servants, but when you look like this, the superhero fantasy is shot to the ground and kicked until it bleeds from the eyes. His mission, as described by his sub-standard MySpace page is to protect and defend helpless animals; which is an unquestionably noble cause.
According to his MySpace profile, he is also married, which leads me to believe that his wife must be the most patient and understanding woman in the entire world. Although, my favorite part of the MySpace page is “Body Type: Some Extra Baggage.” I have a feeling this is appropriate in more ways than one.
Angle Grinder Man
A different breed of psychopath
Now this is a Super-fucking-hero! Angle Grinder Man is the bane of the Department of Transportation; and in that respect, he is a very complex (almost) anti-hero. He resides in England and travels around (at night, I assume) sawing the metal boots off of cars to liberate those who found themselves behind on paying parking tickets.
In Kent during the week and London on weekends, Angle Grinder Man ensures that no matter if you’ve got 12 DUI’s, 8 Hit and Runs, 4 Counts of driving dangerously above the speed limit, and 2 Counts of parking in front of a fire plug, you will never get rounded up by the powers that may seek to stop your reign of terror. He claims to be revolting against the malaise caused by politicians and a blind adherence to society’s rules; but, perhaps he hasn’t thought his process through entirely.
The World Superhero Registry declares him as “Possibly Retired.” I’m more likely to believe that he’s either dead or being held in some kind of maximum security prison, away from his gigantic tool of destruction in an attempt to continue on with England’s functioning civilization.
The Super Dudes Power Squad
No real super powers, so we're on the same playing field.
Is it too much to ask for rational, intelligent human beings to get into the field of protecting society? Not that these individuals aren’t passionate or in possession of functioning central nervous systems, but for fuck’s sake…these people are no more “Real Life Super Heroes” than people who play Dungeons & Dragons are Warriors and Elves.
Perhaps an alternative might be for all of these random role players form a motley crew of non-heroes and elect one to stand alone as some kind of ultimate Batman-type. They can all lend their support, know-how, and costume design, and everyone will be happy!
And, sure, the one that is elected would be lacking in any kind of super human ability, common sense, and street smarts. He would throw himself headlong into danger, and inevitably get himself killed, kidnapped, or taken into custody for being a drain on the collective willpower of those who make law enforcement their profession…but, fuck…at least there would only be one of them.
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If there’s any aspect of American Culture that has captivated the imagination and spirit of the masses more than Super-humans, I don’t want to know about it. The essence of the Superhero is an ideology which, on the surface, seems to be distinctly American…not counting the Nazi Genetically Superior Ubermensch, of course.
Say what you will about the good ol’ U.S. of A, when we hit on something, it spreads like a global pandemic…often with similar disastrous effects.
Humans need to believe in magic. For some reason, reality isn’t quite good enough. It simply doesn’t suffice to be able to eat to excess, fuck, procreate, access worldwide databases from our cell phones, travel across the globe within hours, soar into (and walk in) space, and finally unlock the answers to the seemingly infinite scientific mysteries of yester-year. No.
"I'm Not Just Gay...I'm Superhero Gay"
We need to believe that a Space King is watching us at all times, controlling our actions. We need to believe in destiny, telekineses, and astrology; that literally anything is possible.
What drives people to fight for their country or to go into actual defense or law enforcement is either honor, hatred, pride, or a potpourri of these ideals.
What drives people to become real life Super Heroes, are delusions of grandeur, unhealthy obsessions with Role Playing Games and Fantasy, and a steady diet of Taco Bell.
The World Superhero Registry is a haven for such self-glorifying fuck-nuts and a variable pageant of the bizarre. Perhaps the organization will one day establish an actual facility that will house these good-intentioned vigilantes while caring for and protecting their fragile mental states as they plummet kicking and screaming into senility.
(CONTINUE to PART 2)
It’s a fairly safe bet that if you’ve ever seen or heard of television, you’ve come across To Catch a Predator at some point. Unfortunately, I’ve willingly subjected myself to a Sunday Marathon and volunteered for the spectator sport of Predator-Nabbing.
After viewing an unarguably unhealthy amount of Dateline‘s hilariously repetitive “investigative journalism,” I’ve noticed quite a few interesting elements that I thought I’d share with all of you fine people.
To Catch a Predator: The 5-Step Plan
Sorry, Bears. She's 18.
Step 1. Find a strong-willed girl over 18 to have non-stop cyber sex with creepers
Aside from the handful of occasions where the wide-eyed gentlemen had been trolling the internets for young boys, all of the scary middle-agers are after high school girls; which, as we learned from Dazed and Confused, stay the same age no matter how old you get.
Chris Hansen seems to always have a young woman put herself and her potentially weak stomach at risk having them pretend to be either a teen girl or boy and put on a virtual show. It seems odd that they would need an actual young woman to trick these near-retarded rednecks into a sex-sting…but maybe that’s just me reading too much into it.
The unforgivable individuals who are 30 and over truly have no excuse; but I’m watching Chris Hansen bust 20-year-olds who are expecting to hang out with a dirty-talking slutty 16 year old…something seems somewhat off about that.
Consider for a moment that if your parents are more than 3 or 4 years apart and met when she was still in High School…and this show existed…Daddy could very well have been in the hot seat.
If you're obese, you can't run away!
Step 2. Don’t concentrate on sex appeal; go right for the McDonald’s
Chris Hansen knows that if there’s anything rednecks love more than degenerative sex, it’s fast food and sweet tea!
After an unprecedented marathon of frightened hillbillies, I noticed that a majority of them brought McDonald’s bags to the chick’s “house” and are greeted with either Sweet Tea or Cookies.
Who the fuck brings McDonald’s to a sexual encounter?
If it wasn’t bad enough that each and every one of these sons of the soil was overweight and developmentally disabled, they have to give a bad name to fast food junkies everywhere as well.
“Hi, I’m Chris Hansen; and if you like cheap, greasy food, you’re a pedophile.”
After this method failed, they went for the live busts.
Step 3. Show those creepers and pederasts you’ve got a quick wit
The moment that Chris Hansen pops out and greets the potential offender is the most priceless several seconds television may ever offer…and he always has something clever to say.
“I guess I wasn’t the surprise you had in mind!”
I only wish NBC would take a lesson from Ashton Kutcher and have the men look into the camera at the end and say “I just got Predator’d!”
He's got a gun! He's got a gun! Nope, just a taco and some condoms.
Step 4. Make sure you have a team of 20 cops to take the fucker down like he’s a 300 pound Grizzly
I fully understand that all precautions must be taken, and that any of these perverts could potentially be very dangerous; but when you see 30 cops slam a tubby computer nerd holding a Taco Bell bag onto the pavement, you almost feel bad for him.
I don’t want to sound like I’m defending the hypothetical sex that these individuals would have with a hypothetical underage girl, but their idiotic hypothetical crimes of passion don’t seem worthy of treating them as if they just broke out of prison and robbed a bank.
Look, dudes, you made a horrific mistake that you hopefully won’t be making again any time in the foreseeable future; but just for future reference, here’s some friendly advice…
…the only two ways you can get away with legally diddling kids are if you’re either a fundamentalist Muslim or if you’re Joseph, the father of Jesus, who left a life of being part of a royal bloodline just so he could bone a 13-year-old paranoid schizophrenic.
...Guess I wasn't the Surprise you had in mind!
Step 5. Be Chris Hansen
All kidding aside, the only person who could get away with this kind of hilarious entrapment is Mr. Hansen himself. Police encourage you not to try to be a Predator-Catcher on your own time, unless you want to cover yourself in mud and hide in the jungle. Pedophiles can sense your body heat.
Maybe you should start emulating Joey Greco from Cheaters. At least then you don’t have to dig through the personal belongings of people who live in their fucking trucks.
…or go through piles and piles of weird MSN chat logs and photos of genitals.
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Filed under Charity, Fun Stuff, News, Porn, Television, Top 5 List
Hey, remember that chick from the titty-riffic dimwitted smile swimsuit poster that used to be in every teenage boy’s room in the 70′s? You know the one…
The titties and hair that would rock a nation.
Farrah Fawcett has no doubt outlived her usefulness, and now she expects all of us to suffer with her.
It’s a horrible thing to have Cancer. I don’t wish it on anyone; and, though I don’t have any immediate experience with it, I am aware and sympathetic to the damage and heartbreak it can bring to any household.
(I’m actually attending a Breast Cancer Benefit tomorrow evening…but that’s beside the point)
Having a positive attitude and a sense of humor about the situation is important…and it tends to help the patient significantly. Farrah Fawcett, I feel, is not one of those people.
She’s neither a fighter, nor is she someone who deserves her own television special in any way, shape, or form. What has she done? Undoubtedly less than even Paris Hilton.
In one of her public statements, she said, “Three words I never thought I would hear are malignant, tumor, and anal.”
Farrah, you were a model and a teen cock-throb for about two decades. I refuse to believe that you never heard the word “anal.”
I was hesitant to comment on this ridiculous television special airing tonight because I might come off as being an unsympathetic cunt.
But, how many of you have known someone with cancer who suffered privately and just wanted you near them in their time of need?
How many of you suffered with medical bills because of someone with Cancer, or watched someone else suffer financially because of treatable or untreatable disease…they just wanted it to be over, for better or worse.
Now, think of Farrah Fawcett, moping in a gigantic bed about how there aren’t enough people around her who feel bad. The whole world needs to feel bad for her as well.
I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve compassion. I’m saying she doesn’t have the right to exploit her condition to make some quick bucks before she kicks it.
Where are the 2-hour television specials for the deceased celebrities who actually changed the world? She’s not even dead yet, for fuck’s sake.
I don’t mean to belittle the hypothetical passing of a cast member of Charlie’s fucking Angels, but come on, America…how long will you mourn an aging Playboy model?
How many hours mourning did Anna Nicole receive?
“Anna Ni-who? I’m sorry…Tila Tequila’s got a new reality show, and I’m so fucking interested!”
Keep in mind, boys and girls, that in regard to Farrah Fawcett’s suffering, I am not asking “Who cares?”…
…I’m merely pleading to Farrah Fawcett: Be strong and stay close to those who care. Don’t force your private suffering into everyone’s home; because, to tell you the truth, the rest of America is more concerned about Prison-Break ending.
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