Archive for Television
September 12, 2008 at 2:58 pm
· Filed under Entertainment, Movies, Pop Culture, Television, internet ·Tagged (, :, Better Off Dead, Ghostbusters, god damn it not again, I, Judd Apatow
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.
Permalink
July 1, 2008 at 7:04 pm
· Filed under Entertainment, Pop Culture, Sports, Television ·Tagged Alex Rodriguez, baseball, ew, gouge out my eyes, home run, Madonna, penis come home!, vomit
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.
Permalink
May 23, 2008 at 1:17 pm
· Filed under Entertainment, Pop Culture, Television ·Tagged big ol chin, Danica Patrick, NASCAR, racing is for losers, redneck
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
Permalink
April 10, 2008 at 8:53 pm
· Filed under Pop Culture, Television ·Tagged Apocalypse, oh my god my penis left me, Paris Hilton, why does it burn when i pee?
The unholy bastard off-spring of Satan (read:MTV) has decided to usher in the end of mankind with a new reality show to find Paris Hilton a new best friend. In addition to the voting on the website, apparently producers have taken the show on the road to hold auditions as well. So which is it? Votes or tryouts? This seems like a recipe for disaster. And I don’t know which is worse – that there are people alive who like Paris Hilton enough to want to be friends with her or that some of those people are guys. Let’s be honest, the only two possible reasons to be male and on this show would be a) you are gay or b) your in it for the ass. But anyone who wants to keep his penis attached and not feeling like it permanently dwells in a lava pool full of chlamydia would be doing everything possible to keep his (or her – we respect all peoples on this interwebs site) penis as far from Paris (not the city) as possible. So, hate to break it to you guys, but I guess if you’re trying out to be Paris Hilton’s BFF, you are logically gay.
More to the point, though, is that this is obviously the first sign of the Apocalypse. Does Paris Hilton touring the country with her vagina-cloud of STDs sound suspiciously like the Pestilence horseman riding forth to anyone else? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to look into finding a way to prevent the vagcloudo’death from raining fiery-when-I-pee death down on me. I’ll let you know what I find.
UPDATE: Found it! It’s whiskey! Ah, delicious, crotch-saving whiskey.
UPDATE: Holy shit I drank two bottles and woke up with a tingly sensation in my nethers. And what is that alien-looking blonde doing wearing my Styx baseball shirt from their ‘04 tour? Wait…is that…*checks penis, finds note:
Dear Assknuckle,
By the time you read this letter, I’ll be gone and you’ll be stuck with a penis-less groin infested with no less than eight STDs. Those were frontiers I’d have just as soon left unexplored. But you had to boldly go where so many have gone before. I resign my post. Enjoy your new simple life.*
Former Gunner’s First (and only) Mate Wee Tod
*It makes me sad that my penis is more witty than I am. Come back Wee Tod – I really have to pee 
(
Permalink
