... and I'm reeeeady for love! Chelsea, you're starting to look kinda hott, I must admit. But you need to be more careful about the kind of man you let under your umbrella, if you know what I mean. As for the rest of you, let's move on to what you came here for.
Weekly Best o' Screenhead: another horrific Jon Benet rises in the East with "My Parents['] Kiss"; a rad animated commercial for Evian (crank dem speakers); the creepy online exploraverse called 99 Rooms; a dorky combo-parody of The Fellowship of the Ring with Fahrenheit 911, inevitably called "Fellowship 911"; cute pic of a mouse riding a cat riding a dog; the last iota of subtlety in advertising dies a gasping death as a hot blonde rides a bucking bronco while cramming a Hardees Thickburger in her slavering maw; the widely circulated and still pathetic karate chimp; the extremely dark, graphic, and touchingly sentimental Christmas film "Timmy's Wish"; and at long last, step-by-step instructions on how to give your rat an enema.
I admit that I was as guilty as anyone, but I must agree that it's finally perhaps time to boycott "Hey Ya" on the dance floor. (via)
Combining both your gizmo-hate and your barely sublimated crush fetish, you can gladly pay to have a sexy model type smash your cell phone. (via)
From minds similarly inclined but with opposite gender attractions to those who brought you the boyfriend arm pillow, now you can thrill to the dismembered embrace of the girlfriend lap pillow. Creep-out levels at maximum. (via)
Men with long hair? I was once one of you. Now I am shorn and shamed, like most of my generation. Even at my best, I could never hope to match this month's "Samson," but it does my heart good to know there are men out there keepin' it real. Real, real long. (via)
Here's a nice collection of corporate signage meant to inspire fear and confusion in wage slaves, courtesy of distopia.com. They're just one letter away from perfection, poor dears. (via)
Do I really need to say anything more than shape-shifting robots? Have your neighbors been replaced by them yet? Have YOU? (via)
Lastly, another product of accidental surfing. I still don't know what the Church of Fear is all about. Neo-fascist crypto-radicals? Parody of same? Both? They are German, so the line between fascist parody and fascist reality may be thinner than elsewhere. But I commend any group whose chief demonstrative weapon appears to be pole-sitting ("ORGANIZE POLE-SITTING EVENTS THROUGHOUT THE WORLD! SIT DOWN AND HAVE FEAR!") while also inquiring "ARE YOU PLANNING A TERRORIST ACT? When? Where? Why? Stand in [sic] for your right to personal terror!". Hey, I have plenty of personal terror, and I don't anticipate escaping it much in the next four years.
If Chelsea inherited her father's genes, she's not going to be terribly picky about who she shares her umbrella (and other things) with. She's got good dental insurance!
Evian Boy would have been better served to play the original. How does one top original Brian May, with his guitar made out of an old fireplace mantle and motorcycle springs, played through vintage hiwatts? Not with a sampler, I tellya! And we want Freddy Mercury back, too!
I've seen that commercial. It turned me on! Of course, I wasn't thinking about burgers anymore... Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. There's a reason we don't let you play with lit stove burners, too. As far as I can tell, our rats don't have compacted stools. Thanks anyway!
They haven't STARTED playing "Hey Ya" around these parts. They still think "Louie-Louie" is a hip dance song in B'ham. I could get into "smash my phone." The big problem with Broadband internet is that the damned phone rings off the wall! Telemarketers have figured the no-call list out. They all pretend to be charities.
I'm not sure what the deal is with the lap pillow... What, we internet junkies can't afford a whole luv doll these days? Bush has the economy so screwed that we're buying them on the installment plan?
It's gotta be gravity. I didn't cut my hair for five years in the 1980s, and it wouldn't go much below shoulder length. Now, I doubt I can manage growing it down to my neck.
Pardon my ignorance, but I don't THINK one has to go to Nepal in order to pole-sit, do they? I understand that it goes on all the time in the Jefferson County jail! There's some terror, to be sure!
JH
Posted by: John M. Hicks | November 19, 2004 at 02:28 PM