Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages (and Dave): I have an announcement for you! That's right, the long-awaited Challenger date has been decided upon, and it's tomorrow. Come down to Wooster St. Pizza around 7 pm or so and watch me and my roommate contemplate our lives whilst attempting to down a 22-inch topping-loaded monster of a pizza.
You have to pay for Cirque de Soleil. You have to pay for Siegfried and Roy. This, however, is a free show. That hasn't stopped me from hitting you up for donations, of course. Let me once again reiterate why I ask of you...so very little.
If we win, which I believe there's a good chance we will, the pizza is free. There will be much rejoicing. We will don swimming goggles and douse ourselves in champagne, and then possibly lighter fluid and turn ourselves into fiery Buddhist monks.
If we don't win, in the unlikely event I pull a hamstring or some other unfortunate roadblock occurs (I doubt it'll be fullness...we have a whole hour), the pizza is about 36 dollars plus tax and tip.
Now, while I'd like to guarantee victory, I ain't Broadway Joe Namath, and the Challenger ain't the Johnny Unitas Baltimore Colts. I'm confident, but I'm not psychotic. A lot of people get overconfident and blow their children's college funds in Las Vegas. And that's not what we want, is it? The point of asking for donations is that I need to be prepared to lose before I can win. I want to focus on beating that pizza like Rihanna and not what the hell I'm going to do if I can't. Like John, Paul, George, and Ringo, I'm hoping to get by with a little help from my friends, and beat that pizza with Maxwell's Silver Hammer. Yellow Submarine.
Mull it over. And be at Wooster St. Pizza, tomorrow (that's Friday), 7ish. It's what Jesus would have done.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Death to Tomra!
Before we get started on today's blog extraodinaire (well, to be honest, it'll really be no different than any other entry, but since all my entries are extraordinary, that makes them all extraordinaires, right?) I need to take a moment to pose a question to my loyal readers. Does anybody out there know what the fuck the deal is with those "enter the word you see above" boxes? Every time I spam all of your facebooks with my status indicating I've written a new Douche, they make me copy down two words. Yeah, that's right, two. As if one indecipherable, partially occluded, curvy word weren't enough. I've never gotten this; If they want you to copy down a word, why can't it just be a word in a normal font, not sideways and quadruple italicized? Why do I even need to copy down a word in the first place? I'm sure there must be some sort of security explanation behind it, but fuck, why two? It's like, before you post your status, write the words "DUCK MARMALADE" in the box. Uh, okay, sure. Just for fun, when I change my status to alert all of you of what random words I have to write, I'll copy them at the bottom of the post. Isn't that fun?
So you may be asking yourself, who/what the fuck is Tomra? Tomra is the only company I'm aware of that makes the bottle and can recycling machines at the grocery stores. I'm sure there are more, but this is Denim Douche, and I don't do research. Yeah, I recycle my bottles and cans, because I love the environment. Whoops, I meant because I get five cents apiece for everything I stick into one of these fantastic machines! But they're not fantastic, are they? I see you shaking your head, "no." And you're right. They suck.
Have you ever seen anything in the world more reliably unreliable than the recycling machines? Honestly, you walk into that bottle room knowing full well that half of the machines will be broken or full, and that's a conservative estimate. There's always someone in front of you with a goddamn mountain of cans moving as slowly as possible. Meanwhile, the machines are beeping away screaming "change me" like a crying baby, and no one's coming.
Oh, but in the rare occasion that someone does come, have you ever seen anybody more pissy about performing their job than this person? They come trudging in like they're inches away from pulling out an Uzi and wiping out the Deli section, sigh loudly, change the bins, and then walk around the corner of the building where I assume they finish the contents of their flask. These people look so goddamn miserable about performing this menial task, it's unbelievable. My theory is that the machines that are labeled as broken really aren't, it's just that the employees put the signs up because changing the bins more often would drive them to suicide.
If you do get a machine, good for you. Now you just have to soak your arms up to the elbow with stale beer and soda, a good portion of which still have some sludge at the bottom waiting to drip on your shoes. At this point you wonder which one of your dickhead fuckass friends is incapable of taking that last sip to ensure the dryness of the can. Oh, and the machines don't accept water bottles, Gatorade, Powerade, Snapple, Iced Tea, Red Bull, and God only knows what else. If you're returning some fancies you got for a nice change of pace from the grind of Keystone and Busch, there's about a 50% chance the machines won't take that either, despite CT being listed in plain English on the side of the bottle as accepting that brand. Christ.
But I endure this buffet of fecal matter for that all important 5 cents per unit. It really gives me this nice sense that I'm saving money, when really, the store already took out the bottle deposit when you bought that shit anyway. All you're getting back is the money you already unnecessarily spent. Might as well put a gun to my head and tell me to recycle. And what about this; 2-liter bottles of soda, gargantuan as they are, are worth the same as soda cans. What? Considering they have something like 10x the surface area, shouldn't they be worth more? If I can fit 10 cans or 1 bottle into a garbage bag, aren't I going for the cans every time? Fuck this system. God Damn you Tomra, with your virtual monopoly over recycling equipment! Someone slay this giant of the returnables industry before it's too late.
The words I had to enter in the box:
"astoria m"
Yeah, exactly.
So you may be asking yourself, who/what the fuck is Tomra? Tomra is the only company I'm aware of that makes the bottle and can recycling machines at the grocery stores. I'm sure there are more, but this is Denim Douche, and I don't do research. Yeah, I recycle my bottles and cans, because I love the environment. Whoops, I meant because I get five cents apiece for everything I stick into one of these fantastic machines! But they're not fantastic, are they? I see you shaking your head, "no." And you're right. They suck.
Have you ever seen anything in the world more reliably unreliable than the recycling machines? Honestly, you walk into that bottle room knowing full well that half of the machines will be broken or full, and that's a conservative estimate. There's always someone in front of you with a goddamn mountain of cans moving as slowly as possible. Meanwhile, the machines are beeping away screaming "change me" like a crying baby, and no one's coming.
Oh, but in the rare occasion that someone does come, have you ever seen anybody more pissy about performing their job than this person? They come trudging in like they're inches away from pulling out an Uzi and wiping out the Deli section, sigh loudly, change the bins, and then walk around the corner of the building where I assume they finish the contents of their flask. These people look so goddamn miserable about performing this menial task, it's unbelievable. My theory is that the machines that are labeled as broken really aren't, it's just that the employees put the signs up because changing the bins more often would drive them to suicide.
If you do get a machine, good for you. Now you just have to soak your arms up to the elbow with stale beer and soda, a good portion of which still have some sludge at the bottom waiting to drip on your shoes. At this point you wonder which one of your dickhead fuckass friends is incapable of taking that last sip to ensure the dryness of the can. Oh, and the machines don't accept water bottles, Gatorade, Powerade, Snapple, Iced Tea, Red Bull, and God only knows what else. If you're returning some fancies you got for a nice change of pace from the grind of Keystone and Busch, there's about a 50% chance the machines won't take that either, despite CT being listed in plain English on the side of the bottle as accepting that brand. Christ.
But I endure this buffet of fecal matter for that all important 5 cents per unit. It really gives me this nice sense that I'm saving money, when really, the store already took out the bottle deposit when you bought that shit anyway. All you're getting back is the money you already unnecessarily spent. Might as well put a gun to my head and tell me to recycle. And what about this; 2-liter bottles of soda, gargantuan as they are, are worth the same as soda cans. What? Considering they have something like 10x the surface area, shouldn't they be worth more? If I can fit 10 cans or 1 bottle into a garbage bag, aren't I going for the cans every time? Fuck this system. God Damn you Tomra, with your virtual monopoly over recycling equipment! Someone slay this giant of the returnables industry before it's too late.
The words I had to enter in the box:
"astoria m"
Yeah, exactly.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Demise of Hockey
Before I get started on the actual subject of this post, I feel I must show you this picture.
What the fuck? I already hated this guy enough, but then I came across that picture on ESPN. Yeah, Lil' Wayne writes a blog on ESPN. knock yourself out. I wonder if he actually WRITES something and ESPN has 40 or 50 copy editors working full-time to decipher his weed-addled, incoherent scribblings. The other alternative, of course, is that he just speaks his thoughts into a tape recorder, and 40 or 50 government forensic speech pathologists work full-time to decipher his weed-addled, incoherent blather. I don't think I've ever wanted to see someone fall from grace as badly as Lil' Wayne. I fall asleep every night praying to Jesus that next week I'll see him selling hot dogs and Snapple on a street corner somewhere. I wouldn't even buy from him, either, because I'd want him to fail at that, too. I can dream, can't I? Lil' Wayne can lick my ass. Like a lollipop. (OH, SNAP!)
I really could never say enough to fully express my disdain for the aforementioned douchebag of the above paragraph, so I'll just scream into a pillow for 10 or 15 minutes and we'll move on.
So I was watching SportsCenter yesterday (nice segue, huh? Ya know, ESPN!?) from the beginning. I watched the NBA playoff highlights of the Bulls-Celtics game, and the Mavs-Spurs game. Commercial. Okay, so when the show comes back I'll check out what happened in the playoff hockey games and then I'll head to campus. It comes back; baseball highlights. NFL draft talk. Heated debate about whether Tiger Woods has an innie or an outie. Okay, not that. It was THIRTY MINUTES into the show before they got to the hockey highlights. What?
Now, I'm really not a hockey fan. At all. There are probably a dozen or so NHL teams on which I wouldn't be able to name one player. But I at least like to follow what's happening in the playoffs; this is my chance to hop on the bandwagon and be a fairweather Rangers fan, in a most despicable and dastardly maneuver. Hockey is a great sport; it's different than the other 3 major sports, and I think it's cool that it has a sort of cult appeal. I'd really like to go to a game because I think it would be a hell of a good time and hockey fans are crazy. Plus, I hear it's easier to follow the puck in person than on TV.
So what the hell happened? When the Masters happened a few weeks back, SportsCenter would lead off with golf highlights. When Wimbledon or another major tennis tournament is going on, it's not uncommon to see them lead with tennis highlights. Is hockey that insignificant these days? I know it's rare to see hockey games on major networks, and you basically have to have some sort of regional sports network like NESN or MSG to catch whatever team you follow (or Versus...whatever the fuck that is)... when did all this happen? Did Gretzky take all the ratings with him?
I have no problem with the NBA playoffs being the lead story; it's a more popular sport. But shit, what a slap in the face to hockey that the 14th or whatever baseball game of the season between the Marlins and Pirates takes precedence over the Stanley Cup playoffs. It's a sad state of affairs for hockey when they get treated like a women's sport. In fact, I'll bet for damn sure the women's basketball tournament highlights made it into SC earlier than these hockey highlights did.
Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it's not as bad as it seems and I'm taking ESPN's bitch-slap of hockey as representative of its dwindling popularity, when really it's not. After all, this is the network that gave Lil' Wayne a blog. (Fucking ass bitch crap shit). All I know is, hockey deserves better. Perhaps someday soon we'll see its resurrection. I hope so, because I heard on the news that Russia is the worldwide leader in computer hacking, and anything that keeps those crazy pinko commie bastards away from my bank account is fine by me.
Now Watching: D2 - Mighty Ducks (I wish). Connie is hotter than Julie "The Cat" Gaffney.
What the fuck? I already hated this guy enough, but then I came across that picture on ESPN. Yeah, Lil' Wayne writes a blog on ESPN. knock yourself out. I wonder if he actually WRITES something and ESPN has 40 or 50 copy editors working full-time to decipher his weed-addled, incoherent scribblings. The other alternative, of course, is that he just speaks his thoughts into a tape recorder, and 40 or 50 government forensic speech pathologists work full-time to decipher his weed-addled, incoherent blather. I don't think I've ever wanted to see someone fall from grace as badly as Lil' Wayne. I fall asleep every night praying to Jesus that next week I'll see him selling hot dogs and Snapple on a street corner somewhere. I wouldn't even buy from him, either, because I'd want him to fail at that, too. I can dream, can't I? Lil' Wayne can lick my ass. Like a lollipop. (OH, SNAP!)
I really could never say enough to fully express my disdain for the aforementioned douchebag of the above paragraph, so I'll just scream into a pillow for 10 or 15 minutes and we'll move on.
So I was watching SportsCenter yesterday (nice segue, huh? Ya know, ESPN!?) from the beginning. I watched the NBA playoff highlights of the Bulls-Celtics game, and the Mavs-Spurs game. Commercial. Okay, so when the show comes back I'll check out what happened in the playoff hockey games and then I'll head to campus. It comes back; baseball highlights. NFL draft talk. Heated debate about whether Tiger Woods has an innie or an outie. Okay, not that. It was THIRTY MINUTES into the show before they got to the hockey highlights. What?
Now, I'm really not a hockey fan. At all. There are probably a dozen or so NHL teams on which I wouldn't be able to name one player. But I at least like to follow what's happening in the playoffs; this is my chance to hop on the bandwagon and be a fairweather Rangers fan, in a most despicable and dastardly maneuver. Hockey is a great sport; it's different than the other 3 major sports, and I think it's cool that it has a sort of cult appeal. I'd really like to go to a game because I think it would be a hell of a good time and hockey fans are crazy. Plus, I hear it's easier to follow the puck in person than on TV.
So what the hell happened? When the Masters happened a few weeks back, SportsCenter would lead off with golf highlights. When Wimbledon or another major tennis tournament is going on, it's not uncommon to see them lead with tennis highlights. Is hockey that insignificant these days? I know it's rare to see hockey games on major networks, and you basically have to have some sort of regional sports network like NESN or MSG to catch whatever team you follow (or Versus...whatever the fuck that is)... when did all this happen? Did Gretzky take all the ratings with him?
I have no problem with the NBA playoffs being the lead story; it's a more popular sport. But shit, what a slap in the face to hockey that the 14th or whatever baseball game of the season between the Marlins and Pirates takes precedence over the Stanley Cup playoffs. It's a sad state of affairs for hockey when they get treated like a women's sport. In fact, I'll bet for damn sure the women's basketball tournament highlights made it into SC earlier than these hockey highlights did.
Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it's not as bad as it seems and I'm taking ESPN's bitch-slap of hockey as representative of its dwindling popularity, when really it's not. After all, this is the network that gave Lil' Wayne a blog. (Fucking ass bitch crap shit). All I know is, hockey deserves better. Perhaps someday soon we'll see its resurrection. I hope so, because I heard on the news that Russia is the worldwide leader in computer hacking, and anything that keeps those crazy pinko commie bastards away from my bank account is fine by me.
Now Watching: D2 - Mighty Ducks (I wish). Connie is hotter than Julie "The Cat" Gaffney.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Useless Job #2
Just now, on my way back to my apartment from campus, I came across a scene which can only be described as baffling. I was stuck at a red light behind an ugly blue Kia with obnoxious liberal bumper stickers; you know, Obama, Make love not war... the usual. Funny, I voted for Obama and I'm in favor of withdrawal, but there's something about seeing people's views on the back of their car that makes me immediately want to do the opposite out of spite. Sorry troops, you'll just have to sweat it out a little while longer; some dickhead changed my mind. (I kid, I kid. Get home safe, boys (and girls!) Anyway, I came across the creme de la creme of obnoxious bumper stickers:
"Meat is Gross."
Well, excuse me, fucknut, I had it for lunch and found it to be quite exquisite. The real kicker was that obnoxious-liberal boy and his companions were all smoking. Now how's that for ironic? Delicious, life-sustaining, protein-packed food is gross, and sucking on cancer sticks is just peachy keen? It's almost like this guy wanted me to rear-end him. I suppose being trendy interferes with any semblance of logic. I shook it off and kept driving, and he pulls INTO MY APARTMENT COMPLEX! After briefly considering tailing him and then Tonya Harding-ing his kneecaps with my ice scraper, I took note of where his car was heading and came back here. It's cool: now I know where he lives, so if I ever have a particularly shitty day (or a particularly drunk night), I can slash his tires or something. Maybe take a dump on his windshield, if there's time. Perhaps I can use that as a sociological experiment; what if someone caught me taking a dump on that guy's car? Could I shake off a passerby's disdain by laughing and giving the thumbs up, as with peeing? I could, in theory, revisit both this post and the Poop one in one deft maneuver.
Clearly I'm passionate about meat. Kia guy, if you're reading this, take the sticker off and we're all square. At least I think it was a Kia. I was too irritated to pay closer attention. Now, onto today's business:
USELESS JOB #2
Bathroom Attendants.
What is with this fucking bizarre job? I don't know how it is in lady-land, but with men's rooms, the scene goes something like this. Walk into the bathroom, avoid eye contact, try to find an open urinal that's not next to one that's being occupied. If the only pissers available happen to be right next to other dudes, you do a quick inventory.
A. How badly do you have to go?
B. How much space is there between each urinal?
C. Are there dividers, so the guy next to you won't look at your package? (always a concern)
You weigh these criteria and make a decision. Or, you just go to the stall. Afterwards, you quickly wash your hands, and leave. Why would you ever want to spend more time in a public restroom?
Bathroom attendants are insanely useless. Now, I've never come across one personally, thank God, but after I graduate and start going to nicer restaurants, I have a feeling I'm going to come across this problem. From what I gather in movies and TV shows and what not, these people pretty much just do shit for you that you could easily do yourself. Turn on the water for you. Hand you a towel. What the fuck? I suppose dumbass rich people like being pampered to, but fuck, there's certain things I can handle myself. Is he going to wipe my ass, too? Hold my penis while I pee?
Something seems so backwards about this. Like I said, men don't even LOOK at people in the bathroom. Why the hell station someone who's going to talk to you and make you uncomfortable in the one place you go for a little privacy? If that's luxury, bring on the Spam and Cheez Whiz. I can't imagine the business sense behind it, either. "Wow, this restaurant cares about customers so much that instead of putting my hand in front of a sensor to get a paper towel, some guy in a vest gives me one. I'm going to spend way more money now and recommend this restaurant to everyone I know." Uh, yeah. I'd say save the salary and put it towards running the business.
Oh yeah, one more thing. You're supposed to tip these guys. Yeah, that's right. They hold the door and turn the faucet on, and you're supposed to tip. There simply are no more words. It's like Valet Parking except that occasionally it can be a pain in the ass finding a parking spot. I have never had trouble washing my hands in my life. And that's why the Bathroom Attendant would be the second job to go in Ryan's America, behind our other useless friend, the Courtroom Sketch artist.
Over and out.
"Meat is Gross."
Well, excuse me, fucknut, I had it for lunch and found it to be quite exquisite. The real kicker was that obnoxious-liberal boy and his companions were all smoking. Now how's that for ironic? Delicious, life-sustaining, protein-packed food is gross, and sucking on cancer sticks is just peachy keen? It's almost like this guy wanted me to rear-end him. I suppose being trendy interferes with any semblance of logic. I shook it off and kept driving, and he pulls INTO MY APARTMENT COMPLEX! After briefly considering tailing him and then Tonya Harding-ing his kneecaps with my ice scraper, I took note of where his car was heading and came back here. It's cool: now I know where he lives, so if I ever have a particularly shitty day (or a particularly drunk night), I can slash his tires or something. Maybe take a dump on his windshield, if there's time. Perhaps I can use that as a sociological experiment; what if someone caught me taking a dump on that guy's car? Could I shake off a passerby's disdain by laughing and giving the thumbs up, as with peeing? I could, in theory, revisit both this post and the Poop one in one deft maneuver.
Clearly I'm passionate about meat. Kia guy, if you're reading this, take the sticker off and we're all square. At least I think it was a Kia. I was too irritated to pay closer attention. Now, onto today's business:
USELESS JOB #2
Bathroom Attendants.
What is with this fucking bizarre job? I don't know how it is in lady-land, but with men's rooms, the scene goes something like this. Walk into the bathroom, avoid eye contact, try to find an open urinal that's not next to one that's being occupied. If the only pissers available happen to be right next to other dudes, you do a quick inventory.
A. How badly do you have to go?
B. How much space is there between each urinal?
C. Are there dividers, so the guy next to you won't look at your package? (always a concern)
You weigh these criteria and make a decision. Or, you just go to the stall. Afterwards, you quickly wash your hands, and leave. Why would you ever want to spend more time in a public restroom?
Bathroom attendants are insanely useless. Now, I've never come across one personally, thank God, but after I graduate and start going to nicer restaurants, I have a feeling I'm going to come across this problem. From what I gather in movies and TV shows and what not, these people pretty much just do shit for you that you could easily do yourself. Turn on the water for you. Hand you a towel. What the fuck? I suppose dumbass rich people like being pampered to, but fuck, there's certain things I can handle myself. Is he going to wipe my ass, too? Hold my penis while I pee?
Something seems so backwards about this. Like I said, men don't even LOOK at people in the bathroom. Why the hell station someone who's going to talk to you and make you uncomfortable in the one place you go for a little privacy? If that's luxury, bring on the Spam and Cheez Whiz. I can't imagine the business sense behind it, either. "Wow, this restaurant cares about customers so much that instead of putting my hand in front of a sensor to get a paper towel, some guy in a vest gives me one. I'm going to spend way more money now and recommend this restaurant to everyone I know." Uh, yeah. I'd say save the salary and put it towards running the business.
Oh yeah, one more thing. You're supposed to tip these guys. Yeah, that's right. They hold the door and turn the faucet on, and you're supposed to tip. There simply are no more words. It's like Valet Parking except that occasionally it can be a pain in the ass finding a parking spot. I have never had trouble washing my hands in my life. And that's why the Bathroom Attendant would be the second job to go in Ryan's America, behind our other useless friend, the Courtroom Sketch artist.
Over and out.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Musings.
Given that I have made the Douche's mission statement something along the lines of "don't write about yourself, write about universals," I find myself occasionally struggling to come up with worthy topics for this baby. I mean come on, let's be honest, there aren't a whole lot of "Have ever noticed that..."s left. Seinfeld took about half of them, and imitators followed and vultured the other half. So to come up with a real champion of inane observation, like my shocking discovery that the Push To Cross button does nothing, it requires a little luck, a little brainstorming, and a fair amount of discipline. In other words, my brain's got to be at the right place at the right time. Otherwise, you get nights like tonight, where I want to update the Douche, but a quality topic eludes me.
I've got a little something for you next time, but tonight's post is going to serve as a multiple previous-post follow up. Yeah, that's right, I'm addressing topics previously discussed in past entries. I feel I would be doing you a disservice if I neglected to catch you up to date on some of these important subjects. So without further ado, MUSINGS!
1. I did go on to view Blood Diner and Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. Although phenomenally bad movies, I'd have to say that as far as bad movies go, they were simply too bad. Now, anyone who knows anything about me knows I have an ungodly amount of patience for pure and utter crap (Note: there is a distinction...it has to be non-mainstream crap. Obscure crap. Soulja Boy is crap, but the fact that people actually enjoy it brings my piss to a boil and causes me to self-mutilate).
Unlike our friend Soulja Boy, however, these bad movies are terrible, but they're also totally unheard of*, which allows me to laugh at them objectively without picturing the smiling faces of all my peers who I'd like to kill. God I hate pop music. Whoops, got sidetracked. Anyway, even I, Ryan, crap connoisseur, had a tough time with these two. Unbearably bad. You can't believe they were ever even made. If you're looking for a bad movie that'll keep you entertained without causing you to question God, watch "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon." Enter that phrase into YouTube if you want to see the clip I mentioned in the last post...it up and vanished for no reason.
Of course, as my esteemed colleague Dave pointed out, every shitty movie is funny for a while. That was indeed the case with both of these unfortunate pictures. But yes, even I grew weary of the shit-fest as time went on. Still, I finished them. I mean, you might ask, what's the point? Well, why did the four Jamaicans carry their sled across the finish line in Cool Runnings, despite the fact that they had obviously lost and it was a total waste of time? Pride. I had to be able to tell you that I sat through both Blood Diner and Breakin' 2 in one single weekend. Oh, and I watched another movie in between the two of them. The Godfather. Damn, what a sequence. It's like eating Filet Mignon between two pieces of moldy, slimy, maggot infested limburger cheese.
(By the way, they just don't dress like they used to these days... check out this screenshot from Breakin' 2.)
One other announcement, regarding the Challenger. It's been put off for a few weeks, but it's still happening. The Challenger will be annihilated by Mike Ho and myself on the weekend before finals. That's the weekend after Spring Weekend, kids. I really thought better of you in regards to pledges, though. I mean, you've got the chance to witness live theatre; a grotesque display of gastrointestinal fortitude, for just a few dollars. Hell, I'd be jumping at the chance. Make it right. Pledge a few dollars to the Challenger Fund today. Remember, if we win, you keep your money. If not, hey, you had a killer time, and you can taunt me without mercy. I'm not trying to rip you off, I just need help financing a 40 dollar pizza. Plus, the place is B.Y.O.B. What more could you ask for?
Anyway, that's it for this time, but I'll be back soon with a new Douche for your trembling nipples.
(*aside from a small Family Guy reference to Breakin' 2 in the episode where Peter and Lois run against each other for school board president. I can't let the Cronies think I'm not versed in my Family Guy.)
I've got a little something for you next time, but tonight's post is going to serve as a multiple previous-post follow up. Yeah, that's right, I'm addressing topics previously discussed in past entries. I feel I would be doing you a disservice if I neglected to catch you up to date on some of these important subjects. So without further ado, MUSINGS!
1. I did go on to view Blood Diner and Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. Although phenomenally bad movies, I'd have to say that as far as bad movies go, they were simply too bad. Now, anyone who knows anything about me knows I have an ungodly amount of patience for pure and utter crap (Note: there is a distinction...it has to be non-mainstream crap. Obscure crap. Soulja Boy is crap, but the fact that people actually enjoy it brings my piss to a boil and causes me to self-mutilate).
Unlike our friend Soulja Boy, however, these bad movies are terrible, but they're also totally unheard of*, which allows me to laugh at them objectively without picturing the smiling faces of all my peers who I'd like to kill. God I hate pop music. Whoops, got sidetracked. Anyway, even I, Ryan, crap connoisseur, had a tough time with these two. Unbearably bad. You can't believe they were ever even made. If you're looking for a bad movie that'll keep you entertained without causing you to question God, watch "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon." Enter that phrase into YouTube if you want to see the clip I mentioned in the last post...it up and vanished for no reason.
Of course, as my esteemed colleague Dave pointed out, every shitty movie is funny for a while. That was indeed the case with both of these unfortunate pictures. But yes, even I grew weary of the shit-fest as time went on. Still, I finished them. I mean, you might ask, what's the point? Well, why did the four Jamaicans carry their sled across the finish line in Cool Runnings, despite the fact that they had obviously lost and it was a total waste of time? Pride. I had to be able to tell you that I sat through both Blood Diner and Breakin' 2 in one single weekend. Oh, and I watched another movie in between the two of them. The Godfather. Damn, what a sequence. It's like eating Filet Mignon between two pieces of moldy, slimy, maggot infested limburger cheese.
(By the way, they just don't dress like they used to these days... check out this screenshot from Breakin' 2.)
One other announcement, regarding the Challenger. It's been put off for a few weeks, but it's still happening. The Challenger will be annihilated by Mike Ho and myself on the weekend before finals. That's the weekend after Spring Weekend, kids. I really thought better of you in regards to pledges, though. I mean, you've got the chance to witness live theatre; a grotesque display of gastrointestinal fortitude, for just a few dollars. Hell, I'd be jumping at the chance. Make it right. Pledge a few dollars to the Challenger Fund today. Remember, if we win, you keep your money. If not, hey, you had a killer time, and you can taunt me without mercy. I'm not trying to rip you off, I just need help financing a 40 dollar pizza. Plus, the place is B.Y.O.B. What more could you ask for?
Anyway, that's it for this time, but I'll be back soon with a new Douche for your trembling nipples.
(*aside from a small Family Guy reference to Breakin' 2 in the episode where Peter and Lois run against each other for school board president. I can't let the Cronies think I'm not versed in my Family Guy.)
Monday, April 6, 2009
Bad Movies: A Comprehensive Study
Hi, kids. As you may have noticed, the title has been restored to Denim Douche, and I am sadly not starting a born-again Christian website. If your head is completely lodged up your ass and you hadn't figured it out by now, April Fool's. I think I'm going to hang on to the "Who's the biggest meanie" poll for a while though, for my own amusement, and as a lingering memory of The Day the Douche Changed. This day is capitalized because of its signifigance. May I point out that Satan was a douchebag all along whereas Judas betrayed J.C. in a most cowardly fashion. Carry on.
One of the great tragedies of my life is having a completely different set of interests from the rest of the world. Every time I go out to somewhere public; a bar, the bus, a party, I'm exposed to a nauseating pile of filth that today's college student refers to as "Music." (See: Spring Weekend Concerts, past 2 years). I don't care about fashion, I eat whatever I want, I swear and fart in public, you get the point. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't cut out for this world, like that kid in the movie "Powder." Great movie. Alright, okay movie. Not nearly bad enough to coincide with my point.
Ah, my point. It always peeks its slimy little head out of the ground like a prairie dog. You're thinking what the fuck, there's no point to any of this, and bam! Point-prairie dog. See how analogies work?
I love bad movies. LOVE them. I might even love bad movies more than good movies. But I've found that at least in my group of friends, that's not the consensus. Here I'll be, basking in the shittiness of an ineptly thought out, wildly inconceivable, train wreck pile of trash of a film, and I look around and everyone else is disinterested. At that point in time, I am Powder. I am pale and psychic and no one understands me. Oh yeah, Jeff Goldblum is in that movie. It just got 10 times better.
The problem, of course, is that of course I don't love all bad movies. There are a lot of bad movies which are just fucking bad. Uninteresting, boring, crap. But the bad movies I love are the MEMORABLE bad movies. REAL shitbombs. The cinematic equivalent of watching the Hindenburg disaster. Oh the humanity, what a horrific movie.
There are two horrible movies on my Comcast Free Movies on Demand (and just why do you think they're free? Free Movies on Demand is an absolute goldmine for unforgivably bad films) that I'd like to discuss with you at this point. Drive Thru and Blood Diner.
I like to read the synopses of these free movies once in a while; see if anything strikes my fancy. Hell, a lot of time there's actually good movies in here (Memento, Back to the Future trilogy, Spaceballs), so it's not just the crap that keeps me coming back. Anyway, as I'm perusing the selection, I come across these two movies. The following synopses are straight off of my TV, I'm literally going to write them down right now. Back in a second.
K here I am.
DRIVE THRU: "Fast food will kill you. Especially when it's delivered by Horny the Clown, a sadistic mascot armed with a meat cleaver, an axe, and a skin sizzling deep fryer. Can anyone stop Horny before the entire town is turned into ground chuck?"
BLOOD DINER: "Today's menu: Hot young women. An ancient Sumerian goddess. Naked karate. And a few extra portions of downright silliness. It's a tongue-in-cheek tribute to Herschell Gordon Lewis' 1963 splatter classic, "Blood Feast." Dig in!
How the fuck could anyone ever read these without watching them? I mean, come on. It's like going to see a hanging. I can attest that Drive Thru was fantastically bad, and I should know, I've watched it 2 and a half times already (I had to rewatch it with different groups of people...how could I deprive them of such beautiful crap?)
I've seen about 30 minutes of Blood Diner before my viewing companion, who shall not be named, could not go on. I seriously want to finish this movie. You have to! In a good movie, you have to finish it because you just now the end will make you say "wow." In "Blood Diner," I've just got to finish it because I know the end will make me say "WHAT IN THE HOLY FUCK?" Oh, and don't let the whole "tongue-in-cheek" thing fool you into thinking it's satirical and thus forgivable. This movie is a crime against humanity. And I just can't fucking wait.
Well, I've prattled on for just about long enough, but I want to leave you with some other quick hitters. I watched the movie "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon" recently and my god, was it everything I hoped it would be. Just a disaster. Please, PLEASE click the link below and watch this 1 minute scene of the climactic Megalodon attack scene. I promise you won't regret it.
Next up for me might just have to be "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo," because as Comcast puts it, "Those irrepresible, breakdancing guys are back!" Again, how could you go wrong? I'd be happy to hear from you about fantastic bad movie experiences, or any clips comparable to the Megalodon fiasco. I'm all ears, baby!
One of the great tragedies of my life is having a completely different set of interests from the rest of the world. Every time I go out to somewhere public; a bar, the bus, a party, I'm exposed to a nauseating pile of filth that today's college student refers to as "Music." (See: Spring Weekend Concerts, past 2 years). I don't care about fashion, I eat whatever I want, I swear and fart in public, you get the point. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't cut out for this world, like that kid in the movie "Powder." Great movie. Alright, okay movie. Not nearly bad enough to coincide with my point.
Ah, my point. It always peeks its slimy little head out of the ground like a prairie dog. You're thinking what the fuck, there's no point to any of this, and bam! Point-prairie dog. See how analogies work?
I love bad movies. LOVE them. I might even love bad movies more than good movies. But I've found that at least in my group of friends, that's not the consensus. Here I'll be, basking in the shittiness of an ineptly thought out, wildly inconceivable, train wreck pile of trash of a film, and I look around and everyone else is disinterested. At that point in time, I am Powder. I am pale and psychic and no one understands me. Oh yeah, Jeff Goldblum is in that movie. It just got 10 times better.
The problem, of course, is that of course I don't love all bad movies. There are a lot of bad movies which are just fucking bad. Uninteresting, boring, crap. But the bad movies I love are the MEMORABLE bad movies. REAL shitbombs. The cinematic equivalent of watching the Hindenburg disaster. Oh the humanity, what a horrific movie.
There are two horrible movies on my Comcast Free Movies on Demand (and just why do you think they're free? Free Movies on Demand is an absolute goldmine for unforgivably bad films) that I'd like to discuss with you at this point. Drive Thru and Blood Diner.
I like to read the synopses of these free movies once in a while; see if anything strikes my fancy. Hell, a lot of time there's actually good movies in here (Memento, Back to the Future trilogy, Spaceballs), so it's not just the crap that keeps me coming back. Anyway, as I'm perusing the selection, I come across these two movies. The following synopses are straight off of my TV, I'm literally going to write them down right now. Back in a second.
K here I am.
DRIVE THRU: "Fast food will kill you. Especially when it's delivered by Horny the Clown, a sadistic mascot armed with a meat cleaver, an axe, and a skin sizzling deep fryer. Can anyone stop Horny before the entire town is turned into ground chuck?"
BLOOD DINER: "Today's menu: Hot young women. An ancient Sumerian goddess. Naked karate. And a few extra portions of downright silliness. It's a tongue-in-cheek tribute to Herschell Gordon Lewis' 1963 splatter classic, "Blood Feast." Dig in!
How the fuck could anyone ever read these without watching them? I mean, come on. It's like going to see a hanging. I can attest that Drive Thru was fantastically bad, and I should know, I've watched it 2 and a half times already (I had to rewatch it with different groups of people...how could I deprive them of such beautiful crap?)
I've seen about 30 minutes of Blood Diner before my viewing companion, who shall not be named, could not go on. I seriously want to finish this movie. You have to! In a good movie, you have to finish it because you just now the end will make you say "wow." In "Blood Diner," I've just got to finish it because I know the end will make me say "WHAT IN THE HOLY FUCK?" Oh, and don't let the whole "tongue-in-cheek" thing fool you into thinking it's satirical and thus forgivable. This movie is a crime against humanity. And I just can't fucking wait.
Well, I've prattled on for just about long enough, but I want to leave you with some other quick hitters. I watched the movie "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon" recently and my god, was it everything I hoped it would be. Just a disaster. Please, PLEASE click the link below and watch this 1 minute scene of the climactic Megalodon attack scene. I promise you won't regret it.
Next up for me might just have to be "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo," because as Comcast puts it, "Those irrepresible, breakdancing guys are back!" Again, how could you go wrong? I'd be happy to hear from you about fantastic bad movie experiences, or any clips comparable to the Megalodon fiasco. I'm all ears, baby!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
American Idol... Just who are we Idolizing, Anyway?????
Hey Brothers and Sisters!! What a great day! The sun is shining and I praise the Lord for this glorious weather! Furthermore, I'm in good health...WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR!??
So I was flipping around the channels on the T.V. last night looking for "700 Club" when I saw that rambunctious show, American Idol! I must admit that I succumbed to the temptation and decided to give it a chance, even though my mother had strictly forbidden me from watching secular television. WHOA! What I saw was just appalling! I need to go on a little "rant" here about this so called television program!
For J.C. aka The Man Upstairs (LOL) text "Hallelujah" to 1-800-HEAVEN! HAHA!
Let's start with the name. Uh, hello??? Haven't you ever heard of the TEN COMMANDMENTS??! "Thou Shalt Not Worship False Idols??" What the heck are these people thinking, anyway! There's only one true American Idol, and that's Jesus. Amen. Anywho, these people get up on stage and waste their time singing about sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and not once do they glorify Him through song. TIME OUT!!!
What a bunch of poppycock! Where's the REAL music? Where's "Our God is an Awesome God?" At least Carrie Underwood sang "Jesus Take the Wheel" before she fell to the temptation of Satan and put out "Before he Cheats." Come on Carrie, haven't you ever heard of TURNING THE OTHER CHEEK!! Don't you know that Wrath is one of the seven deadly sins? LOL! Sounds like Jesus really does need to take the wheel before old Carrie here crashes into the median of premarital sex, or even worse, the Cocaine!!
If you ask me, this little "show" is a real waste of time, glorifying false idols, and simply being overly prideful. Where's the modesty? Where's the humility? And why even bother to text in your vote, when Jesus picks the winner anyway? Pah, cell phones. Jesus has the best coverage...his reception is always clear, and he will always call you back! And you don't even have to worry about that darn antennae snapping off, LOL! Hey Jesus, can you hear me now? Good! Hahahaha!! (That's a commercial... for Verizon.)
Anyway, I gotta make my Exodus outta here (LOL) but I just wanted to close with a prayer. Read aloud with me now.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."
Now that's something even SIMON would appreciate, LOL!!
See you next time for more contemporary Christian chat! Stay cool, and stay pious!
-Radical Razzin' Reverend Ryan
So I was flipping around the channels on the T.V. last night looking for "700 Club" when I saw that rambunctious show, American Idol! I must admit that I succumbed to the temptation and decided to give it a chance, even though my mother had strictly forbidden me from watching secular television. WHOA! What I saw was just appalling! I need to go on a little "rant" here about this so called television program!
For J.C. aka The Man Upstairs (LOL) text "Hallelujah" to 1-800-HEAVEN! HAHA!
Let's start with the name. Uh, hello??? Haven't you ever heard of the TEN COMMANDMENTS??! "Thou Shalt Not Worship False Idols??" What the heck are these people thinking, anyway! There's only one true American Idol, and that's Jesus. Amen. Anywho, these people get up on stage and waste their time singing about sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and not once do they glorify Him through song. TIME OUT!!!
What a bunch of poppycock! Where's the REAL music? Where's "Our God is an Awesome God?" At least Carrie Underwood sang "Jesus Take the Wheel" before she fell to the temptation of Satan and put out "Before he Cheats." Come on Carrie, haven't you ever heard of TURNING THE OTHER CHEEK!! Don't you know that Wrath is one of the seven deadly sins? LOL! Sounds like Jesus really does need to take the wheel before old Carrie here crashes into the median of premarital sex, or even worse, the Cocaine!!
If you ask me, this little "show" is a real waste of time, glorifying false idols, and simply being overly prideful. Where's the modesty? Where's the humility? And why even bother to text in your vote, when Jesus picks the winner anyway? Pah, cell phones. Jesus has the best coverage...his reception is always clear, and he will always call you back! And you don't even have to worry about that darn antennae snapping off, LOL! Hey Jesus, can you hear me now? Good! Hahahaha!! (That's a commercial... for Verizon.)
Anyway, I gotta make my Exodus outta here (LOL) but I just wanted to close with a prayer. Read aloud with me now.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."
Now that's something even SIMON would appreciate, LOL!!
See you next time for more contemporary Christian chat! Stay cool, and stay pious!
-Radical Razzin' Reverend Ryan
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