Jul 31, 2009


So there has been a nuisance I have been dealing with recently here on my blog.

Just about every day, I receive a comment from "Anonymous", which I normally don't mind.  Anonymous folks need love too.

But these comments are in a foreign language. I'm not adept at Asian languages, but the characters look like they could be Chinese or Korean. I just don't know for sure.  What I do know is that they are filled with links to sites that would probably infect your computer with cooties if you allowed them to.

So I delete the comments.

Every. Single. Day.

I'm beginning to get annoyed by this persistent spammer.

It's only one comment a day and it's pretty easy to delete, but this person/spambot has bombed me with spam on a greater magnitude in the past.  And I took the time to slowly delete every single comment.  It sucked.

So I'm getting to the point where enough is enough.  I don't want to have to resort to using word verification or (gasp!) comment moderation.  I fucking hate word verification and hate isn't a strong enough word for how I feel about comment moderation.  Takes a big ole slice of fun out of blogging, if you ask me.  Plus I'm not even sure that word verification would work.  He/She/It seems to be taking the time to come here every day, once a day to post some indecipherable spam, so maybe word verification wouldn't even slow them down.

So I ask you, dear readers, for assistance.  What would you suggest?  Is there a way to prevent commenters from using links in the Blogger comment form? I mean, is there a way to dissallow the use of that particular html code in there?  Because that would work fine for me.  And I think it would stop this Anonymous douchebag from leaving his fucking spam all over my blog.  (Note: Feel free to respond as well, oh Anonymous one.  But I only read English and a little Spanish and French, so please try to respect those boundaries)


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. 不管,不理会;不打扰 .

Jul 30, 2009

Don't want

Hey, I dig pork fat as much as the next guy.  But I don't want it on my fucking sandwich. 

From their website:

The Rubik’s Cube has confounded us for years. Maybe the sandwich version of this puzzling brain teaser will do the same. The Rubix Cubewich contains cubes of pastrami, kielbasa, pork fat, salami, and two types of cheddar.

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Why would you want to put a cube of pork fat in there?

Jul 29, 2009

More Cat Pictures

I've been promising for a while now that I would post a picture of Wolowitz in his "belly time" pose.  Basically, he will lay on his back and have one of his humans rub his belly until he falls asleep.  Then he will lay like that for hours.  Don't believe me?

Well, here it is:

He likes to have that little patch of white fur above his penis rubbed.

I totally get that.

There is Avery (dressed in white) and Gogo (in black) hanging out in their favorite spot.  On a snack table overlooking the patio and the harbor.  I don't blame them...it's a good view.  Avery has a bit of a thing for Gogo, even though nothing romantic is ever gonna happen as she is fixed and his days are numbered.  He thinks that she is his and his alone.  As evidenced by the following pic.

Keep away from my bitch! She's mine!!!!


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Cat pictures rule!!!

Jul 28, 2009


One of Gia's favorite expressions when she encounters a shitty situation is "that stinks on ice!"  She uses it all the time.  When the Yankees lose on a questionable play in the field...it stinks on ice!  You know?

But what the hell does that really mean?

I read somewhere that the phrase "on ice" can mean "big time" or "to the extreme", so I guess that kinda makes sense.  "That stinks big time!"  OK.

We, however, decided that it means that if something stinks even though you have it on ice, then it must really fucking stink!  Like even the preservative qualities of frozen water can't keep the stench at bay.

Imagine the day's catch from an afternoon of fishing. You put it on ice but it still stinks to high heaven. THAT'S what I'm talking about?

Wait..."stinks to high heaven?"

What the fuck does THAT mean?

 "Yo! That stinks on ice! Word to your mutha!"


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. This post stinks like you read about.

Jul 27, 2009

Blog Collage

So I was mucking about on the laptop tonight and I was looking at all the pictures that I have downloaded from the Internets (thanks, Internets!) strictly for use on this here blog. And there are a lot of them.

333, to be exact.

Then I saw that I could use some of that technology available these days to make a quick and simple collage using these pictures.  So that I could see the grand vision that is the heart of my blog in one place, ya see.


Clicky the picky to make it go biggy

Apparently I like to download lots of pictures of boobs and booze.  Makes sense as these are a few of my favorite things.

And bonus points to anyone who can "Find the Heff".  I don't know why, but I downloaded a picture from his blog at some point.  He's got his hand up a chicken's cooter.  See?  I must have thought it was funny or something.  No accounting for taste on my part.

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. There is a picture of Carrot Top with his shirt off in there somewhere.  I'm so ashamed.

Jul 24, 2009

Can't Hardly Wait

Off to a wedding in NYC on Friday afternoon.

We are staying in the city as well and hopefully hanging on Saturday for a while.

You kids stay gold and have a great weekend everyone!


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Take me down to the Paradise City.

Jul 23, 2009

I really should be watching Conan

Because I could watch these guys talk to each other or dance with each other all fucking night long.

Hat tip to the kids at Warming Glow for posting this first.  Or second.  Who really knows which came first in the whole chicken and egg debate anyway?

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. When did Conan grow a beard?

Jul 22, 2009

Dead Irish Writers*

The Fool (excerpt)
by Padraig Pearse

Since the wise men have not spoken, I speak that am only a fool;
A fool that hath loved his folly,
Yea, more than the wise men their books or their counting houses or their quiet homes,
Or their fame in men's mouths;
A fool that in all his days hath done never a prudent thing,
Never hath counted the cost, nor recked if another reaped
The fruit of his mighty sowing, content to scatter the seed;
A fool that is unrepentant, and that soon at the end of all
Shall laugh in his lonely heart as the ripe ears fall to the reaping-hooks
And the poor are filled that were empty,
Tho' he go hungry.
I have squandered the splendid years that the Lord God gave to my youth
In attempting impossible things, deeming them alone worth the toil.

I often find myself clinging to the conceit that if I'm not exactly well-read, I have read enough literature of the classic and not-so-classic variety to pass just about any reasonable sniff-test.  And like a lot of Irish-American Catholics boys who found that they enjoyed curling their hands around a pint of the black stuff, I went through my Irish writer phase.  It probably began in High School or college, I'm not sure of the exact time in my young life.

There was a certain feeling growing up as an Irish-American in my family.  I'm just not sure exactly what that feeling was, however.  My mother's side of the family mostly came from the County Cavan toward the North, but not in the North if you know what I mean.  My father's side mostly came from the South and County Cork.  And the two clans couldn 't have been more different if they had tried.  The tribe from Cavan were landowners and had Irish royalty in their blood, but then again just about every family with Irish roots can boast that.  There were an awful lot of Irish kings mucking about.  My father's side of the family were mostly workmen and members of that unique band of tinkers that traveled the countryside. 

Those cultural divisions continued when each family moved across the Atlantic to the New World.  My mother's side of the family became wealthy landowners on Long Island's Gold Coast before selling the land off bit by bit as farmland became estates.  They were eventually left with nothing in the way of land in one of the most exclusive and wealthy areas of the nation.  Too bad.  My father's side of the family built things and lived by their wits.  My grandfather was a professional gambler himself counting the likes of W.C. Fields amongst his regular friends and gambling cronies.  But he also knew Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart from their time as aviators at Roosevelt Field, as he often worked there.

The odd fact was that even though each side of my family has been here in America for a number of generations, our clan stayed strictly Irish and Catholic.  Young Irish Catholic men and women finding each other in love was perhaps aided by our strict upbringing and the influence of the Church, but somehow looking back on my family tree as far back as I can go it is all Irish and (mostly) Catholic.  That's amazing to me, especially as it is near impossible to find someone whose families have been in country as long as mine that can make the same claim.

It all stops with me and my siblings, however.  None of us married Irish Catholic.  I thnk society in general has moved past those kind of restrictions, at least in the circles we travel in.  So looking forward we will contribute to the growing population of mutts in this country.  Well...not all of us.  Gia and I decided long ago not to have kids.  Cats made more sense to us.

It's in the looking back, however, that we can see how our foreparents heritage has shaped  our own lives.  Part of that is in the literature and poetry of our homeland, of course.

So when I went about figuring out who I am and were I came from, I turned to the Irish Writers who have filled our libraries with their prose and poetry.  Jonathan Swift, James Joyce, William Butler Yeats, Oscar Wilde and John O'Keefe.  Some I took to in a modest way and some were beyond me.  I still have never made it all the way through Ulysses and I doubt I ever will.

Frank O'Connor was a favorite of mine and a more recent choice as he passed away the year that I was born.  I loved his voice and the pacing of his short stories.  He was a fine biographer as well, writing the definitive book on Michael Collins, the Big Fella himself.

There were others, of course.

Frank McCourt died just the other day at the age of 78. He is probably best known for his autobiographical memoir Angela's Ashes, but I enjoyed 'Tis a bit more. Actually I'm more of a fan of the brash storytelling from his somewhat of a blowhard brother Malachy.  He has been a radio personality in the New York area for about as long as I have been around, and his rousing tales of love and violence told in a lilting Irish brogue have always been a charming source of entertainment.

But it is Padraig Pearse who will always have a special place in my heart when it comes to Irish writers and poets.

He was born in Ireland from a father who had emigrated from Manchester, England and an Irish-speaking mother native of Dublin by way of County Meath.  His father actually converted to Catholicism some time after moving to Ireland and a good portion of his relatives remained Protestant.  I'll get back to that a bit later on.  His love of Gaelic and Catholicism came mostly from his mother's side.

From early on, Pearse enjoyed the academic life.  He received a degree in Modern Languages (English, Irish and French) and began his own bilingual school to help prevent the Irish language from disappearing all together.  He felt that the Irish educational system need an overhaul as it generally was meant to produce good Englishmen or obedient Irishmen.  This was unacceptable to Pearse.

Eventually his educational talents and predilictions ld to his entry into the political debate that raged across Ireland in the early part of the 20th Century.  Home rule for Ireland.  Pearse eventually became a major player in the Irish Volunteers, The Irish Republican Brotherhood and The Irish Republican Army.  Rising to the rank of Commander-in-chief, in fact.

He was listed as President of the Provisional Government on at least one bulletin released by the leaders of the Easter Rising of 1916.  There was some dispute on that title, coming from within the leadership itself as well as historians afterward.  Regardless, he was generally considered to be one of the leaders of the movement and one of the co-authors of Proclamation of the Republic.  The reading of the Proclamation by Pearse himself in front of the General Post Office on Sackville Street was actually the beginning of the Rising.

It was also the beginning of the end for Pearse.  After six days of fighting, Pearse and the other leaders were forced to surrender.  He and fourteen other men were court-martialed and executed before a firing squad.  Just scant days after the Rising.  He was 36 years old.

Why did Pearse's life and words come to mean more to me than any of those other fellows?

My grandmother's maiden name was Pearse and she was his cousin.  Yeah.

She was a cranky old broad.  About as funny and outrageous as a diminutive Archie Bunker.  She was one of the Protestant branch of the Pearse family, and she was always messing with us about that.  Her own fault really as she married an strict Irish Catholic man and let him raise their sons and daughters as such.  I think she just enjoyed hoisting her Protestant superiority above us lowly Catholic peasants...for fun.

It's been around 25 years since she passed away and she was ancient even then.  She was born late in the 19th Century and lived through two World Wars.  She was an educator and an acedemic.  Something that was none too common for women in the early part of the last century.  In fact, she was the first female librarian at the New York Public Library.  A position formerly held by stuffy men in bow ties.

I never got a chance to talk with her about her cousin when I was younger.  I don't know if she ever met him, but I kind of doubt it.  She was around 18 at the time of his death.  But I still wish I could hear this intelligent woman speak of her relative.  I'm sure she would have sprinkled in a bunch of Catholic jokes as well, but like I said...she liked to have her fun.

So here is to Padraig Pearse and Frank McCourt and Frank O'Connor and even James Joyce.

Sláinte Mhath, gentlemen!

PS - I started this post over a week ago after I left a comment on his blog.  Then I left it in draft and almost forgot about it.  Then Frank McCourt passed away and began to think about it again.  That's why it took so long.

*With all due respect to Aaron Sorkin and the rest of the writers of The West Wing, this was too good of a title to pass up. - Earl

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Rest in peace, Frank McCourt.

Jul 21, 2009

This Ain't No Mudd Club

I've got a long-ish post coming up. Probably tomorrow. I've been writing it for a number of days now and I keep going back and editing it and re-writing it and deleting shit and adding shit. Lots of stuff going on.

Long process. But it excites my soul in a weird way and I want it to be perfect, or just semi-literate. I probably will fail miserably, but I still want to stretch it out a bit. Or just pretend that it might mean something.

Wish me luck and continue on with what you are doing

UPDATE: Okay, maybe I went a little overboard here.  I didn't mean to imply that I was writing something very difficult or noteworthy.  It's not going to be "great writing", by any means.  Its just something a bit personal and long that I am taking more time with than it actually deserves.  Something to do with dead Irish writers and my connection to them.  That's all.  And a preemptive apology for how much it is gonna suck. - Earl

In the meantime, enjoy The Talking Heads.  Life During Wartime.


Heard of a van that's loaded with weapons
packed up and ready to go
Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway
a place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire, off in the distance
I'm getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstone, lived in the ghetto
I've lived all over this town

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
this ain't no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey
I ain't got time for that now

Transmit the message, to the receiver
hope for an answer some day
I got three passports, couple of visas
don't even know my real name
High on a hillside, trucks are loading
everything's ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nighttime
I might not ever get home

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
this ain't no fooling around
This ain't no mudd club, or C. B. G. B.
I ain't got time for that now

Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit?
Heard about Pittsburgh, PA?
You oughta know not to stand by the window
somebody might see you up there
I got some groceries, some peanut butter
to last a couple of days
But I ain't got no speakers
ain't got no headphones
ain't got no records to play

Why stay in college? Why go to night school?
Gonna be different this time?
Can't write a letter, can't send a postcard
I can't write nothing at all

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
this ain't no fooling around
I'd love you hold you, I'd like to kiss you
I ain't got no time for that now

Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock
we blended in with the crowd
We got computers, we're tapping phone lines
I know that ain't allowed
We dress like students, we dress like housewives
or in a suit and a tie
I changed my hairstyle so many times now
don't know what I look like!
You make me shiver, I feel so tender
we make a pretty good team
Don't get exhausted, I'll do some driving
you ought to get you some sleep
Get you instructions, follow directions
then you should change your address
Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day
whatever you think is best
Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks?
They won't help me survive
My chest is aching, burns like a furnace
the burning keeps me alive
Try to stay healthy, physical fitness
don't want to catch no disease
Try to be careful, don't take no chances
you better watch what you say


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Life...it happens.

Jul 20, 2009

Anonymous Blogger BBQ Ribs

A fellow blogger whom I can't seem to recall gave me a great recipe for BBQ Baby Back Ribs a while back. I've searched high and low (at least 2 minutes worth) and I just can't find who it was.  But I've kept the recipe and with some slight modifications, I've been making my ribs this way ever since. Just made a batch today for a barbecue, and they were fabulous. Here is that recipe:

Anonymous Blogger BBQ Ribs

  • Remove the semi-translucent membrane from the back of the rack of ribs.  You don't have to do this, but I think it results in a more tender batch of ribs.
  • Cut rack into thirds - I do this as it is a pretty decent serving size for barbecues especially if you are serving burgers and hot dogs as well.
  • Prepare a dry rub seasoning of your own choice.  I like to use salt, fresh ground black pepper, brown sugar, cayenne pepper, cumin, coriander and dry mustard.  But use whatever you think will taste best.  I'm sure you know what you like.
  • Rub the prepared seasoning on the top of each slab of ribs and wrap securely in plastic wrap.
  • Refrigerate seasoned ribs overnight or for at least 6 hours or so.  I like to do it the day before and let the ribs "marinate" in the dry rub for around 24 hours.  Tenderizes them nicely.
  • Prepare a "steam bath" for the ribs.  I use 1 cup of strong ale like a barley wine or an Imperial IPA, 1 cup of malt vinegar (or apple cider vinegar) and 1 cup of water.  Mix and pour in the bottom of a deep roasting dish.  I used one of those aluminum one-use roasters that you can buy in any supermarket.  Then either use some kind of rack or homemade device (crumpled up lumps of foil work in a pinch) so that when you stack the ribs in the roaster they are all above the level of the liquid below.  And make sure that there is some room between the layers of ribs when you stack them so that the steam can work to the fullest.  Cover with aluminum foil making a tent that will allow a little steam to escape during cooking.
  • Cook at 350 degrees F for around 2 hours or a little longer.  The moisture that the ribs absorb in this  process is essential.  Just make sure that the liquid below is boiling, so you may have to play with the temperature a bit.
  • Remove cooked ribs from steam bath and let cool for at least 15 minutes.
  • Dip each slab of ribs in your BBQ sauce of choice and get 'em good and soaked.  There are plenty of good sauces on the market or you can make it yourself if you prefer.  Doesn't matter to me.  I used some bottled sauce from Daisy May's, a great BBQ joint in Hell's Kitchen, NYC.
  • Grill the cooked ribs dipped in BBQ sauce on one of those outside grills that you have sitting in your backyard or on your porch.  You know the one.  You don't have to cook them long, just enough so that you get a nice crispy char on the outside of the ribs from the sauce.

The ribs should retain a decent amount of the flavor from the rub seasoning as well as the BBQ sauce and they will just fall right off the bone. Juicy and tender on the inside, crispy and delicious on the outside. If you did it right.

A nice tasty beer, some macaroni salad or potato salad and an ear or three of fresh corn also go a long way toward your BBQ rib enjoyment.

How do you cook your ribs?


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. It seems like a lot of work, but it really isn't.

Jul 18, 2009

BSG, huh?

I've already mentioned that I am watching Battlestar Galactica from the very beginning. What I didn't mention is that I was watching it thru Netflix. One DVD at a time, which can be annoying.

Like last night. Yesterday, Disc 5 from Season 1 showed up in the mail and I was all ready to watch a good four episodes in the evening after the Yankee game. It was the last disc in the series as well, so I was looking for some season finale goodness. Which I got, but there was only one episode on the disc.

One measly episode.

Apparently there were only 13 episodes in the first season. I didn't know this as I am trying to go into this adventure with as few details as possible. So Disc 1 contained the mini-series, Disc 2 contained episodes 1-4, Disc 3 episodes 5-8, Disk 4 episodes 9-12 and Disc 5 had episode 13. Just episode 13.

Would it have killed them to included that episode on Disc 4? I know they didn't envision little ole me watching the series thru Netflix like I am, but it still annoyed me to no end.

Good thing Disc 1 from Season 2 arrived in the mail today. But I'm seriously re-thinking watching the series this way. Maybe I can get the DVDs from the library or something. I don't love it enough yet to buy it, but that is a possibility as well.

Anyway, I think putting one 45-minuted episode on a DVD is just a waste and that's all I'm gonna say about that.

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Resistence is futile.  No wait...that's from something else.

Jul 17, 2009

Everything old is new again...

...but different. Ya know?

OK. Let's play a little game called "Guess the Science Fiction/Fantasy TV Series"

Round 1: They are two federal agents assigned to an under-the-radar department that investigates paranormal crimes and activity. He's an intuitive, imaginative and instinctual investigator (you don't see a lot of "i" alliteration, do you?) dealing with the tragic loss of a loved one early in his life. She's a by-the-book, pragmatic sort who has a hard time dealing with the nature of their investigations let alone the quirkiness of her partner.

Did you guess The X-Files?  Yeah, you probably did.

Round 2: Two young folks, a man and a woman, are responsible for chasing cursed antiquities all over the world before the evil that haunts these objects can kill and kill again.  They work with an older gentlemen who houses all of these artifacts in a giant vault to prevent them from infecting the world with their evil.  The male half of the duo uses humor to diffuse tense situations and she is a fiery redhead with an attitude.

Did you guess Friday the 13th: The Series?  Maybe not, but if you were a fan of this show in the late 1980's than maybe you did.

Bottom line: Both of those plot synopses (synopsi?) can also be used to describe the new SyFy* show Warehouse 13.  It's as if those first two shows had an unholy night of sin and nine months later this malformed baby popped out.  It's about two Secret Service agents who are reassigned after a job gone slightly wrong to a secret government facility called Warehouse 13 out in the middle of nowhere.  The rest of it you can figure out from watching either The X-Files or Friday the 13th: The Series.

*Quick aside...who was the lame-brain that decided to change the name of the SciFi Channel to SyFy?  That's just silly!  Are they trying to bring in new audiences who might not be inclined to watch a show if it is on a Science Fiction network?  Are they trying to save advertising space because the channel call letters now have one fewer letter? I don't get it.

I've only seen the first episode thus far, but it entertained me.  It's not original, by any means, but it is fun.  And one of the co-creators is Jane Espenson (Buffy, BSG) so I'm willing to give it a few weeks at the very least.  And besides, it's Summer.  Nothing else is on anyway.

My favorite thing about the show, and a real reason to watch (at least for me), is the steampunk designs of the techie doo-dads that are used by the dude who runs the warehouse.  Like his computer.  I want one.  Sooooo much!  Here is one that looks a bit like it:

Click on those links to see the coolness.  I wish I were handy, since that dude basically walks us through his creations and encourages his readers to give 'er a go.  But I'm not, so I will just sit here pining for a setup like that.  Sigh.

UPDATE: I just watched the second episode and damn if No. 6 (Tricia Helfer) didn't make a guest appearance as an FBI agent.  I don't know about the rest of you geeks, but in watching the first season of BSG, I think she is a pretty good actress.  Not bad on the ole ocular mechanisms either.  Rowr.

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. I didn't know what steampunk was either until today.

Jul 16, 2009


This was just a little something I was thinking about today, so excuse me if it comes off as either condescending or harsh.

But I am surrounded by stupid people.

Every day. Stupid people at the post office. Stupid people at the grocery store. Stupid people on television. Stupid, stupid, stupid...STUPID!

I get a fair amount of compliments on my intelligence.  I think it's all hogwash, but if folks want to think that I am smarter than I actually am then more power to 'em.  I did well in school, even if I never tried very hard.  I also pick up on things quickly, but I think that is more the power of an imaginative mind than actual smarts.

But all in all I don't think I am any smarter than a normal human should be.  See?  I am pretty sure I screwed up the grammar in that last sentence!  Or one of the sentences in the previous paragraph.  I suck at grammar. Not that grammar alone is any indicator of intelligence.  But it sure doesn't hurt!

Anywho, I decided today that one of the things I enjoy most about blogging is reading what smart folks have to say.  Folks who I have come to believe are smarter than I.  I dig that.  I like surrounding myself with them.  Check them out...they are all over my blogroll over there.  Not gonna mention anyone by name, but you know who you are*.

*No.  It's not you.

And just because I saw these earlier today, here are some images of Christina Hendricks from Mad Men.  Va va va vooom!!!


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. That woman is freakin' gorgeous!

Jul 15, 2009

The Last Supper

Last week when we were out with a bunch of friends for Gia's birthday, a few of us guys starting reminiscing about The State, a great sketch comedy show that ran on MTV in the mid-90's.

Then today, I got a email from a dude who smells like a wet dog letting me now that the entire series is now available on DVD for the 1st time.

Maybe I'll buy it one of these days.  Or I could just get my fix with the clips that are available on Youtube.  Like this one:


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. I want to dip my balls in it!

Jul 14, 2009

Drive-by blog post

Do you read Carrie Brownstein's Monitor Mix blog on NPR?

You don't?

You should.

Right now she is in the midst of a musical experiment.  She is listening to Phish and only Phish for the next 5 days in an attempt to figure out if she can become a phan of the jam band.  I wonder if this little experiment of hers is going to turn her into a dirty hippie*?

Mmmm....Phish food!

*Relax.  I'm just joking.  Mostly.

UPDATE - She just posted a video of her first experience with Phish.  Priceless!!!


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. No brain cells were harmed in the making of this post.

Jul 13, 2009

Dear Trubba Man

A million years ago (or back in the 80's), I used to read National Lampoon every once in a while. And back then they had a feature that may or may not have been a regular column called Dear Trubba Man.

It was a fake advice column that they ran with a picture of Joe Frazier, I believe, as Trubba Man.  A picture kind of like that one on the right.  Maybe it was Ken Norton, I dunno.  But I think it was a boxer at the very least.  It wasn't the smartest feature published, and in retrospect it was probably pretty offensive to African-Americans.  But for some reason, I have never forgotten it.

A typical letter would read as follows:

Dear Trubba Man,
My girlfriend recently broke up with me and she threw all of my clothes out on the front lawn. What should I do?

To which Trubba Man would most likely reply,
If it were me, I'd kill da bitch! But seeing as how you seems like a wussy kind of guy, here's whatcha gonna want to do.  Blah blah blah.

And then he would go on about exacting his revenge in some funny/demeaning/stereotypical way.  It was mostly funny because of the picture of Joe (or Ken or whomever). 

Does anyone out there remember this feature from National Lampoon? Am I the only one?  I think Trubba Man would have had a field day with the Michael Jackson funeral.  Seeing as he was a wussy kind of guy and all.

And in totally un-related meanness, which slack-eyed monster is more awful to look at:

Forrest Whitaker or Paris Hilton?  I'm choosing Paris. I'm a hetero white guy, but I would totally stick it to Forrest given the choice of the two.

Because she makes me ill.


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Wow, that last part was really mean, wasn't it?

Jul 10, 2009

Music Video Fridays - The Bloodhound Gang

I guess that I am feeling a bit like a teenager, because I re-watched a bunch of Bloodhound Gang videos the other night and damn if they still don't crack me up. No accounting for maturity on this here blog.

Like a lot of folks, the first time I encountered The Bloodhound Gang was in 1996 and their second album "One Fierce Beer Coaster". A friend of mine introduced me to it and we cracked up to the lyrics in "Fire Water Burn". Be warned...the video is a bit NSFW.

"I'm not black like Barry White, no I am white like Frank Black is"

After 1996, they kinda disappeared for a while. But they were back in 2000 with their biggest hit and their best album. The album was "Hooray for Boobies" and the hit was "The Bad Touch". Great song and even better video. I'm positive you've heard this one.

"Love...the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket"

The last video is from their last album in 2005 called "Hefty Fine". "Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo" busts on the boy band videos that seemingly ruled the airwaves for a little while. The album, by the way, also had a song called "Ralph Wiggum". That makes me laugh a little. Anyway, the embedding of this video has been disabled on Youtube, so I am going to attempt to embed the video directly from MTV.com. That'll learn 'em.

"Put the you know what in the you know where"

UPDATE: FUCK! That didn't work either. Just go here to watch it. Crap. Can anyone tell me why Youtube disables the embedding on some videos but not on others? Anyone? Bueller?

That's enough silliness for today. Have a great weekend.

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. They must be cool.  Bam Margera hangs out with them!  Feh.

Jul 9, 2009

Geek Street Cred

So I noticed that my Geek Permit* was about to expire a while back. I went online to re-register and I was denied because I haven't watched Battlestar Galactica yet.  Apparently it's is now a mandatory viewing if you want to keep your Geek credentials.

I put it on my Netflix queue.  Well, the first season anyway.  But I wasn't happy about it even though I was desperate to retain my status as a Geek elder.  I hate being told what to do.

Then this past Friday the first disk showed up in the mailbox.  It was the original mini-series which is included as a part of the first season on DVD. 

You know what?  It was pretty damned excellent!

I just wish some of the rest of you Geeks would have mentioned how fantastic it was earlier. I had no clue.

 *includes a free membership to LIBO


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Sarcasm is a tool of the lazy man.

Jul 8, 2009

Some administrative bullshit

Lots going on and lots of catching up to do. But first, some administrative business to attend to.
  • Congratulations to Limpy for winning the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge for the month of June.  This marks the fourth month in a row that the rotten bastard has beat us all.  I plan on sabotaging his internet connection at some point this month.  Mwah-ha-ha-ha!!!  
  • Speaking of the trivia game, I need suggestions for Wednesdays.  Today we are doing Hip Hop as requested by Hilly.  I expect to perform miserably.  But that is the beauty of Wednesdays!  Everyone gets a chance to suck.  So leave your suggestions in the comment section here.  Thanks!
  • I don't get a lot of spam here, but there is one persistent anonymous fucker who keeps on keeping on.  His comments are loaded with links to a bunch of sites in some kind of Asian language.  He/She/It usually only leaves one and then skedaddles, but occasionally it will bomb me with a bunch of spam.  What I would like to do, in lieu of comment moderation or word verification (I despise both), is somehow prevent commentators from leaving links in the comment section.  Does anyone know how to block that specific HTML tag in the Blogger comment form?  It's not a huge deal, but I think it would stop this one spammer from spamming me with his spam.  SPAM!
  • I've been seriously neglecting my other blogs.  You know the two blogs I'm talking about.  But I've got beer reviews and bad movie reviews coming down the turnpike.  So look for 'em soon!  Well, sooner or later. 
  • Fellow blogger and all around good egg Stacie Ponder (Final Girl)  is looking for a little grassroots financing for some re-shoots on the independent horror film she recently shot.  Go check it out, if you are into that kind of thing and if you are feeling charitable.  
That's it.  Go home!


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Nothing to see here.  Move along...SPAM!!!

Jul 7, 2009

This Dude Abides

Gotta a little gift from a friend of mine the other day, and I thought I would show it off.

That's right.  A little Dude for the Verdant Dude!  So what if I'm rocking the gray hair instead of The Dude's brown locks.  Same vibe.

Let's zoom out to see the T-shirt, shall we?

And that's about as much of me as you are going to see here.  Cheers!

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. I'm Earl. So that's what you call me. You know, that or, uh, His Earlness, or uh, Earler, or El Earlerino if you're not into the whole brevity thing. .

Jul 6, 2009

Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror

Once again it is Final Girl Film Club time!  This time it is Italian zombies and plenty of them in Andrea Bianchi's Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror.

He's so cute! Just like a little masculine Rachel Dratch!

So there is this dude who could give Rasputin a run for his money in a best beard contest who goes mucking about in an Italian archeological dig site (in retrospect, probably not a good idea) and gets accosted by Italian zombies.  You could tell they were Italian by their love of red wine/blood and their attitude.  You can also probably guess the outcome, but since this review is filled with spoilers I will help you out.  Ciao, Rasputin!

This was the remarkable/unremarkable first few minutes of the film.  We have no idea what he found or why it triggered the Italian zombie attack.  All I know is that it was followed by a very lighthearted mid-60's jazz theme song.  Only out of place because the film was made in 1981.

The light jazz ends and the action quickly shifts to three couples, including a boy wearing some very bright red pants, arriving at their summer home which is conveniently situated near the dig site.  The boy, who looks a lot lot Rachel Dratch from SNL fame, is a bit bugged out by the late-night visit from his mother (see the screen-cap above).  But we are going to have to get into that a little later on.  And I'm going to get tired of typing "creepy Rachel Dratch kid" so let's call him CRDK from now on.  Okay? Okay.  Hooray, acronyms!

"You look just like a little whore.  But I like that in a girl."  The gratuitous nudity showed up at that the nine and a half minute mark on the DVD.  Well done!  This would be couple #2 who are getting it on, but "something" wakes up CRDK.  So he sleepwalks his way into the bedroom where the gratuitous nudity is taking place, but, due to some nifty editing, it is now his parents who are making of the love.  Mom barely covers herself up as the kid lets out a baleful "Mama!"

You can tell this kid's got issues.  I wonder where that is gonna lead?

After an uncomfortable morning breakfast, Couple #3 decide to get it on in the gardens of the villa only to be interrupted pre-coitus by the shambling undead.  There is a slow-moving Italian zombie in loose clothing behind every shrub, or so it appears.

"Mother, this cloth...smells of death!"  Cut to an artist studio or museum or something like that attached to the villa.  Mama, Papa and CRDK are practicing shooting things with Papa's pistol when they are rudely interrupted by Italian zombies.  Papa shoots a bunch of ineffective holes in the torsos of the zombies before eventually succumbing to their attack.  Apparently he forgot to watch any of George Romero's zombie films before weekending at the villa.  He would have known to aim for the head.  It, of course, would be his undoing.  Ciao, Papa!

Back to couple #2, who are making out in the gardens by a fountain.  These Italians sure are horny.  More Italian zombies show up. Maybe it is sex they are attracted to.  Like serial killers in the slasher movies of the early 80's.  And I'm beginning to notice that these Italian zombies are really into earth tones.  A little sky blue or bright yellow couldn't hurt, could it?  Couple #2 run from the slow-moving killers and we cut back to couple #3 who have been slowed down by an iron wolf trap in the front yard.  A wolf trap.  In the front yard.  Amazing plot twist.

But couple #2 saves them with the aid of some small boulders.  They bash the Italian zombie's brains in.  They just bash 'em right the fuck in!  Ciao, Italian zombies!

The mother and CRDK are still in a spot of jam in the house, though.  Amid what appears to be some very nice Etruscan artifacts, they discover another way of stopping these zombies.  Fire. This requires dousing them in paint and then running up to them with a lighter or lit match.  Sounds kind of dangerous to me.  Especially since they decide not to, ya know, run away from the burning Italian zombies.  They just cower in the corner until the flammable undead collapses just out of reach of them.  I'm not so sure this is really the way to fight Italian zombies, but it seemed to work for them.  Ciao, Italian zombies!

We soon discover that these aren't your garden-variety brainless Italian zombies.  No sir.  They manage to dispatch the maid by throwing some kind of spike into her hand and lopping her head off with a scythe.  So they use tools.  Like our early pre-historic simian ancestors.  I'm starting to develop quite a bit of respect for these Italian zombies.  Ciao, maid!

The mustachioed male half of couple #2, who in fact may be a younger version of the Most Interesting Man in the World, discovers the headless body of the maid hanging out of a window.  He promptly lifts up her skirt and ravishes her right then and there.  Okay...not really.  But it would almost have fit in with the brainy Italian zombies and the wolf trap in the front yard.  He does check out her ass like he is thinking about it, though.  So I'm not totally blowing smoke up yer coolie.  To assuage his guilt he throws her headless body to the swanky flesh-eaters waiting below.  What a dick!

The remaining survivors now must defend the villa against the tool-weilding, earth-tone wearing, brainy Italian zombies.  Some make it, some don't.  That's how these flicks work.  I especially enjoyed the scene when the mother of CRDK defends him by whacking away at the fiends with a sword that happened to be lying around.  Lots of weapons just lying around in this villa. 

CRDK is so relieved to be alive that he starts macking on his own mother! 

Holy fucking shit! 

He starts kissing her and feeling her up and generally trying to get up her in her business!  I just knew this kid had Mommy issues.  I just didn't realize that it was that kind of Mommy issues.  Wow.  Just wow.  She rebuffs his advances, of course.  Even if he weren't her son, he fucking looks like Rachel Dratch!  So he runs into the arms of the next woman he can find.  The next Italian zombie woman.  Should have let him get his freak on, Mom.  Ciao, CRDK!

Don't worry, though.  We haven't seen the last of CRDK.  He is now creepy Rachel Dratch Italian zombie kid or CRDIZK, for short.  CRDIZK wants a piece of his Mommy in the worst way, if you catch my drift.  Not even death can stop this horny kid from going after his Mommy's tit.  That's some kind of crazy urge.

You wanna know the creepiest thing about CRDK?  He wasn't really a kid.  He was played by a 26-year old creepy Italian midget named Peter Bark.  Now you don't have to feel so bad if you kinda were into those creepy Italian incest scenes.  Sickos!

All in all, I would have to say that this was the finest incest-laden, awful special effects, bad makeup, incomprehensible Italian zombie movie I have ever seen.

Ciao, Final Girl Film Club!

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. I'm pretty sure I wasn't drunk or high when I was watching and reviewing this.  But I'm not gonna give any guarantees.  Ciao!

Jul 5, 2009

Happy Birthday, Gia!

OK, it's a day early since her birthday is tomorrow. But we have been celebrating all weekend long anyway.

Happy Birthday! I love you, baby!

You can celebrate by re-reading the little tale of a boy who hands his girl a giant cock in front of a bunch of strangers. Yay!

PS - Happy Actual Birthday to Becky!

Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. Gia rocks.

Jul 3, 2009

What a dick!

OK, I promised a recap and some pictures from the concert the other night. So here goes.

First, the link I provided yesterday to the home page for The Paper Bag wasn't working. Now it is.  The Paper Bag, by the way, is both the name of the show and the band. A group of upwards of 70 local musicians who meet once a year to party their balls off. Gia, recently, is one of them. She sings with a group of women called the Cheese Calzones, who appropriately bring the cheese. Crazy outfits, crazy hair and crazy antics are their forte. The past two years, Gia has had her own solo with the rest of the Calzones backing her up.

This year's Bag was a tribute to Woodstock (40 years) and Motown (50 years). Peace, love, music and all that dope.  Gia and the Calzones were given "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes as their song this year.  And she had a little surprise for the event.

She wanted a little gimmick for the evening, so we went out that day and purchased the biggest dildo that she could find at the local Adult Shop.

That mother-fucker had to be a foot and half long and twenty pounds if it was an ounce.  Luckily, I'm packing my own heat so I wasn't too jealous of it's size.

Here are the cats playing with it to give it's sheer massiveness the proper perspective.  I'll explain the drawing on it in a bit.

They looked intrigued, don't they?

OK.  So the thought was that they would begin the song and then shortly afterward she would approach me at the front of the stage as if she were singing it to me.  Then I would hand her the monster dildo and she would sing "Be My Baby" to the dildo very lovingly for the rest of the act.

I was a bit apprehensive.  The show was packed and I had to work my way through the crowd carrying this massive concealed weapon just to get to the front of the stage.  I nudged a few people out of the way with it.  Had to.  And at just the right time...I whipped it out!  From under a shirt I was carrying, of course.  The crowd loved it!  The guy next to me watched the events with his hands over his eyes.  The woman next to me watched the events with lust in her eyes.  You know the drill.

As for the drawing, Gia drew the cartoon face of the organizer of the show onto it as a tribute to the man.  If you click on that Paper Bag link above you will see the caricature that I am talking about.  It got a little smudgy (from the show, people!), but I think it came out pretty cool.

So yeah, I handed my woman a giant cock that she sang a love song to in front of about 1,500 people (just guessing...it was jam-packed!).


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. I can't help but be impressed by the size of your wang.

Jul 2, 2009

The Day After

It was pretty damned late when we got home last night after Gia's super successful night on stage. She rocked. I rolled. I will write about it and maybe even post a pic tomorrow.

Right now I'm just sitting here freaked out about Michael Jackson's kids.

Are they genetically-bred monsters ready to feast on our souls? I think they might be. 

PS - I don't care if that is mean.  I really don't care about them or their "father" at all.  I'm just a little tired, okay?  Okay.


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. What the hell is Goofy?

Jul 1, 2009

Bagels and Rock Stars

There are many things that I would miss if I ever moved from this area. But I would have to put great bagels up near the top of that list.

You see, you can't go a mile in any direction around here without running into a bagel shop. And 9 times out of 10, it's a great bagel shop. That's what Long Island does. That's ALL Long Island does!

But there are the random shitty bagel shops that needs to be avoided. Maybe the bagels don't taste as good. Maybe the service sucks. Maybe the person who owns it is a complete asshole.

I know of such a joint. Well, I know of a few. But this is about one that I encountered yesterday. I've been there before and I always come away with the same reaction. Feh. And it always seems like it is much more expensive than your normal bagel joint.  So I try to avoid it.

Yesterday I had to go get some dry cat food at the pet store early in the morning.  I asked Gia if she wanted some coffee and a bagel and she said that she did.  So I was gonna go to the pet store in one direction and then go the bagel shop I like in the other direction.  Even though there was this bad bagel store in the same strip mall as the pet store.  That's how much I normally tried to avoid it.

But in an extreme act of laziness, I decided to just go to bad bagel store instead.  I order 3 bagels, a 1/2 pound of cream cheese and a couple of coffees.  Now, for those of you who aren't aware.  Bagels generally cost around $1.00 - $1.25.  And a 1/2 pound of cream cheese goes for about $4.00.  So I put a twenty on the counter as the asshole who runs the place looks up and says "Um...that'll be $13.00."

Now I place this same order a lot at the bagel store I usually give my business to, and it usually anywhere from $9.00 - $10.00.  What can I say?  Bagel shops are imperfect businesses.  So I'm trying to add it up in my head and I was just gonna let it go.  Then I turned around and looked for a board with prices.  There wasn't any.  So I politely asked "Excuse me, how does that add up to $13.00?"

And he got pissed at me!  Started yelling and slobbering and gesticulating in an incoherent fashion.  I can only assume he was giving me a rundown of what each item cost, but none of it was making sense.  And I was getting mad because he was getting mad at me. And I know I was only getting ripped off by something like $3.00, but it's generally the little things that really get your goat every now and again.  I know that he was just making up whatever price he wanted.  That's why he doesn't post his prices.

So I waved him off, called his shop overpriced, called him a fucking hack (made sense at the time) and stormed out of there.  Never...EVER...to return.

And you know what?  It felt pretty good.  Maybe I just needed to let off a little steam.

On a lighter note, Gia is once again going to be a rock star tonight at this concert.  She has her own solo again this year.  Last year, she brought down the house with a version of "Bad Girls" that kicked ass.  Tonight she will be singing "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes and singing backup vocals for most of the rest of the night.  Maybe an impomptu duet or something as well.  The party goes until almost 4AM.

So if you are reading this when it posts, I will be doing the Old Folks Boogie and celebrating my woman.

If you are reading this sometime during the day on Wednesday, I will be hungover.


Note: Remember to play the Bug-Eyed Trivia Challenge every day. And you know that you're over the hill.  When your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill.