I’m back after a long hiatus.  I tried to avoid the “blogosphere” during the election, mostly because I was tired of idiots spouting garbage about this being the most important election ever or how I had to vote or how McCain is old or socialist candidates are good.  The list goes on.  At any rate, when you’re done touting how great it is that democracy is working again in America (we are a republic, not a democracy) or that the world might start liking us again (it won’t – countries don’t hate presidents, they hate Americans because, for the most part, they think we are uneducated buffoons and based on the last election, it seems, for the most part, that they are still right) head on over to superobamaworld.com and get your socialist game on.  It seems some asshats have gone ahead and made Obama into a video game.  And to make it worse, they ripped off Super Mario World to do so (I have no idea how to embed such things here, so hit the link if you want to run around and collect American flags and stomp on pigs in what might be the single worst game ever made – but hey, if you like Obama, you’ll pretty much take anything, huh?).  This makes me sad.  More sad than when the clown actually paid to ruin video games by campaigning in them.  I could handle my money being stolen and given to people who don’t work.  I’m resigned to the advent of socialized healthcare.  Hell, I might even be able to survive raising capital gains taxes to 25%.  But taking over video games?  Bastardizing one of the greatest, most entertaining gaming franchises of all time?  Ripping away a precious part of my childhood for the sake of bludgeoning me over the head just a one more time with Obamania?  Too far, I say.  Too far.  It’s time we, as a people, rise up and make a stand.  To the polls!

Update:  So presidential elections are once every four years, apparently.  When did that happen?  Quick, science, make me a flux capacitor!  I need to go back to November 3.

Update: Success!

Update: Couldn’t turn the election, but Time Lincoln promised me vengeance.

Word on the street (said street being a newspaper writer’s interwebs blog) is that in yet another attempt by Hollywood to rape my psyche and ruin all of my fondest memories of growing up,  a third Ghostbusters is in the works.  In an email from Harold Ramis:

yes, columbia is developing a script for GB3 with my year one writing partners, gene stupnitsky and lee eisenberg.  judd apatow is co-producing year one and has made several other films for sony, so of course the studio is hoping to tap into some of the same acting talent. aykroyd, ivan reitman and i are consulting at this point, and according to dan, bill murray is willing to be involved on some level.  he did record his dialogue for the new ghostbusters video game, as did danny and i, and ernie hudson.  the concept is that the old ghostbusters would appear in the film in some mentor capacity.  not much else to say at this point.  everyone is confident a decent script can be written and i guess we’ll take it from there.
best,
harold

Because this is exactly how I wanted to start my weekend.  Drunk by 11 and news of a new Ghostbusters flick.  Wait, that is exactly how I wanted to start my weekend.  Seriously, though, why can’t Hollywood leave the 80s alone?  All of my fondest and sadly nostalgic memories of the 80s are based on the movies and TV shows I watched growing up (and also Atari).  As much as I love (both emotionally and physically) the Ghostbusters movies, I can’t force myself to believe that this one will be any good.  Look at the drastic drop in quality from the first to the second movie – how can a third movie twenty years later be anything but a letdown?  Especially with the premise of the original ghostbusters mentoring new, Apatownian ones (the potential for ghost masturbation, ghost pregnancy and ghost drug use is right off the PKE meter), helping them to provide every frat boy idiot on the planet with new cliche jokes and bar conversation topics that predominantly involve word-for-word recitation of scenes from the movie.  That being said, I will probably go see it.  If for no other reason than the Better Off Dead sequel hasn’t been made.  Yet.

Alaskan Senator Ted Stevens (Rep) has been indicted for lying about accepting gifts (read: bribes) from an oil company.  He is accused of receiving more than a quarter of a million dollars in kickbacks including “a new first floor, garage, wraparound deck, plumbing and electrical wiring. He also is accused of accepting from VECO a gas grill, furniture and tools, and of failing to report swapping an old Ford for a new Land Rover for his daughter Lily.”  Stevens denies the allegations siting the fact that the gas requirements of the Land Rover would quickly balance the cost of the gifts from VECO.

In an effort to clear his name of the ambiguous nature his “Hopeful Future” campaign bestowed upon him, Presidential hopeful Barack Obama has announced that, if elected, he will order review of executive orders that might “trample on liberty.”  When asked who would be his attorney general to carryout the broadly nebulous and vague goal typical for his platform, Obama responded with a shockingly detailed answer of “I don’t know.”

Pop singer Stacy Ann Ferguson (Fergie to the hip crowd) is “thrilled” to be playing “basically a prostitute on the beach” in Rob Marhsall’s production of Nine.  She hopes to learn from some of the “great actors” also in the film, such as Danielle Day-Lewis, Nicole Kidman and even Dame Judy Dench, in hopes of expanding her performing ability beyond singing trite pop songs and peeing her pants.

Cowabunga, dudes! Actor/amateur surfer Matthew McConaughey’s Brazilian model girlfriend, Camila Alves, gave birth to a boy yesterday. Early reports out of NIH have scientists baffled that the man-child was not only able to convince a woman to sleep with him, but was able to procreate. The baby boy will be raised out of wedlock as the beach yeti, or “sandsquatch” tends to be a solitary creature, seeking company solely for mating purposes. Also, the mother is “like, totally an ugly hodad. I was bein’ wingman for my bra, and like, totally had seven beers and we horked some wicked seaweed. I was totally maxed out, man.”

In related news, Yahoo! has a news affiliate that is apparently run by twelve year old girls (you’d know this if you took the time to click on the links I painstakingly post for you ungrateful bastards). As near as I can tell, omg! focuses on celebrity gossip, but word on the streets* is that it will be making a move to world news-type reporting. Execs from CNN are looking over their collective shoulder at this new up-and-comer.

*Forever 21 discount racks

Apparently Out.com has an article about Pete Wentz and how he acts gay. Now, I’m not going to pretend that I read the article – I didn’t as Pete Wentz doesn’t require three pages, he requires three words: major league asshat – but I’m guessing based on the scan I did over the first page that it’s about his sexual ambiguity. Which would be okay if we were talking about David Bowie or Prince. But we are talking about someone who’s name must be included in the echelons of douchebag greatness. The article would be more effective if it tried to present him as the Abraham Lincoln of douchebags (“Four whores and seven beers ago…”). And for the record, knocking up a Simpson girl and marrying her doesn’t make you not gay. It makes you an affeminate, attention whore, an idiot and no less of a monster douche.

So, in conclusion, Pete Wentz deserves to be hit by a tank and I get the keys to the city and a Purple Heart for being such a hero and not falling for his bullshit.

There seems to be quite a bit of buzz going around that A-Rod may be having an affair with soon-to-be-divorced Madonna.  Granted, this is coming from US Weekly, so you can pretty much take it to the bank that the slugger is definitely Madonna’s “A” rod (swish!).  In all seriousness though, this does bring to light a very important issue: if steroids are illegal and their use requires an asterisk in record books, what does sleeping with a woman who is very clearly some sort of black magic voodoo priestess require?  I don’t want to sling accusations around, but A-rod ain’t sleeping with Madge because she’s still 1983 hot.  Have you seen her?  She looks like someone dessicated her skin and re-stretched it back over her bones.  Let’s review the facts:

1) A-rod is a candidate to set a new career home run record.

2) He has many millions of dollars

3) Madonna looks like an animated corpse (female Keith Richards).

Based on all this, we can conclude that A-rod is sleeping with Madonna to leach some of the dark magical power she’s using to keep herself alive in his quest for the home run record.  Give him the asterisk baseball!  Very clever, Mr. Rodriguez.  Very clever indeed.  *Rips of A-rod mask* GASP!  Old Man Withers!  What are you doing sleeping with Madonna?  Wait.  Gross.  What?  NO!  There’s no way you could have enough money for me to tape that!

Update: There was a way (hint: banging Madonna apparently gets you access to what we connoisseurs of fortune like to call a shit ton of cash).  FYI – Madonna in clothes is way better than Madonna without clothes.  If anyone’s seen my penis, tell him I’m sorry and that I wish he’d come back.  Tell him if he does I finally have enough money to spring for that operation we’ve been talking about to lengthen him to normal size “Tommy” pinball machine we’ve always wanted.

I guess congrats to Obama for securing the democratic bid for the presidency.  And somehow in all the thesis writing, I apparently missed Obama telling a crowd in Oregon that he had been in 57 states with one left to go (not counting Hawaii or Alaska because he wasn’t allowed to go there).  So for all you doubters out there, have a little faith and hope in the future.  Seriously, these 60 states of this great union ain’t gonna run themselves.  The folks over at NewsBusters have a video and make a good point: had this been McCain, it would have been plastered all over the god damn planet.  And aren’t there all sorts of posters and movies (Oliver Stone I’m looking at YOU) out there mocking Bush for this same thing?  Come on, Liberal Nation, at least TRY to be consistent.*

*Seriously if you vote for Obama, I’m breaking into your house and punching you in the face.  I could deal with his meaningless tripe of a campaign platform, but seriously:  Do NOT vote for a presidential nominee who doesn’t know how many states are in the Union.**

**I’m not saying vote for McCain either.  What am I saying?  Spend your time doing something more useful.  Like preparing for the Zombie apocalypse.  Or moving to Canada, where, presumably, Obama won’t find you since it’s after Alaska on the “List of States to Visit” and he’s not allowed to go there.

Apparently steroids and a couple of divorces (as well as being a complete asshat) get pretty expensive. Desperate for money, ex-MLB slugger Jose Canseco is throwing out $5,000 to some lucky a-hole to fight in him in a boxing match. Apparently he’s hoping to make at least $5,001 from this farce to make some cash (see Mom, all those college classes did pay off – I know all about profits and deficits and McDonald’s $1 menu).  For anyone interested, Canseco’s agent has been all up on that interwebs ass, sending out emails to find opponents:

“We are looking for a big opponent/athlete to step into the ring and fight ‘The Bad Boy of Baseball’ Jose Canseco in a boxing match, live on Saturday, July 12, at the Atlantic City Bernie Robbins Stadium. The person picked will be paid $5,000 and become a star overnight. There will be a full undercard and if you are not picked you may have a shot on the undercard.”

Hey, I’m in.  I can’t lose with this deal!  I either get paid 5 grand to kick the hell out of a raging Cuban douche, or I get paid 5 grand to curl up in a ball of impenetrable self-defense and whimper like a woman until he’s done punching the ever-loving hell out of me.  Either way, I get 5 grand and that’s alot of grand.  Just think of all the booze and hookers you can get with that many grands.  Wait.  Don’t do that.  There’s no way they’re taking me if someone else signs up first.  All right everyone.  Hands off.  I found it.  Called it, double stamps, no erases.  I’m fighting Canseco for 5k.  Now, in honor of Bender, do I get 5,000 $1 hookers or one $5,000 hooker?*

*Answer: I’m ordering her just so I can tell her she’s ugly and punch her in the face.  And kick her in the nuts.**   It’s all part of my new vigilante justice system designed to systematically eliminate people who are dumb as hell or whores.  Or in this case (and my ex-girlfriend***) both.  Dear Baby Jesus I hope she (the hooker^) doesn’t get those manhands o’death around me before I can make a getaway.

**She has ‘em.  She’s totally a dood.

***I could see the UPS guy (he wears short-shorts and has sexy legs) and even Mayor McCheese, but that suave guy with the Audi and the 57″ plasma TV in the room with the pinball machine and kegarator… wait… what’s his number? ****

****I just put this here to see if you’d read it.

I blame the lack of posts recently (and in the near future) on the writing of my thesis, which tends to take up most of my time during the day (and I doesn’t has teh interwebs at home – ZOMFGWTF?!?), but I’ll try to throw a post up every now and then. Like this one:

Am I the only person alive who doesn’t think Danica Patrick is attractive (her name’s stupid as all hell, too, but hey – who’s keeping score)? Now I admit I’m not the biggest fan of NASCAR (or any other racing for the matter – suck a fat one Olympics!) and that redneck mentality might be the second worst thing ever to evolve, but none of that factors into my disdain of her appearance. Hell, she could be feeding me hot wings and keeping my beer hat full while I play video games and I’d still think she’s ugly as hell (which incidentally is why she could never feed me hot wings and keep my beer hat full while I play video games). Her face looks like God drank alot and made it out of silly putty. Except her chin. Holy Jesusmarymotherofgod look at that chin! That thing’s a damn anvil. Seriously! You could forge swords on it. You know what you can’t forge swords on? My abs. Because they are so cushioned beneath a healthy layer of beer fat rippling. Aw. Looks like another summer of being banned from the beach for being so damn unattractive. But who needs that? I’ll make my own beach on the porch with a kiddie pool and cooler and everything. Added bonus: no one yells at me that “this ain’t one of the fairy nekkid beaches, son.” Ahhhhh. Let em breath.

Update: Apparently there are laws about drinking and being naked in public. And apparently public means anywhere my nosey ass neighbors can see. I’m on the run from the po-pos.

Update: Note to self: police aren’t afraid of my “love gun.” Neither is Rapie Tod, my cellmate. Hey Tod, how’d you get the name “Rapie” anyways? Oh. I see.

Update: help

Well, the title pretty much says it all (yay interwebs!), so check it out here.  Although, I must say that after the last three cinematic abortions that were brutally ripped from the CGI womb of George Lucas with a rusty reel-to-reel projector, this looks like it might be surprisingly entertaining.  At least with the cartoonish, Final Fantasy style computer animation, I won’t have to deal with another three hours of Hayden Panettierre Christensen’s womanish, whiny, bitch antic ladened portrayal of one of the greatest villians of all time.  And no, I’m still not over that whole fiasco.  I swear to God, Buddha, Methuselah and by the mighty hammer of Thor that if you ruin Indiana Jones (I’m already blaming you for the title, you fat slob) I will come at your pedophile ranch like the Death Star at Alderaan.