Real Life SuperHeroes
STOP THE PRESSES! The man, the mystery, the enigma, known as SUPERHERO has spoken!
The sequel to Real Life Superheroes is online, and may be viewed HERE. Part 3 is online HERE.
Another fantabulous contribution, this time from:
Submit your work here.
-bagel
I’ve decided to do you the favor of breaking down the phenom that is “Real Life SuperHeroes”*Act grateful.If you pay any attention to what comes out of my face, you know how much I adore comics. Everything from Batman (gray suit, please) and the X-Men to stuff that only a handful of people I know have ever heard of (Whattup, Jake and Jody).That being said… I’m a “cool” nerd. Yes, like most groups on this planet, divide and
conquer is the order of the day. Dorkiness comes in levels. (more…)
Lead Toys From China: Murder or Salvation?
When I started planning this post, it was going to be just about stupid product recalls. I saw a recall at Wal-Mart for a kite a couple months back and seriously - how the fuck does a kite cause ’serious injuries up to and including death?’ Of course, this being Wal-Mart, I wouldn’t put much of anything past the fucking drooling hicks that shop there. I went looking for some information about this and I couldn’t find that kite on the internet, but I did find something just as scary.
China is murdering us.
Slowly but surely, they’re trying to kill each and every one of us. First it was our pets. Then they put antifreeze in our toothpaste. But now it’s something even worse. Even more insidious. They’re trying to kill our children, now.
Our fucking children.
Now, this one is really pissing me off. I mean, I don’t actually get to see my kid that much, but I sure as fuck don’t want him to die at the hands of a Chinese toy company.
How are they accomplishing this nefarious task? Lead fucking paint. Okay, when I was a kid, we’d joke about someone being a retard because they ate paint chips when they were a kid. Ten years from now, they’ll still be making this same joke, but with two big differences. First, it’ll be lead from Chinese toys, and second it won’t be a fucking joke.
About 75% of toys in America come from China, and in a two month span in 2006 over a million fucking toys were recalled due to lead content. These toys include everything from the bullshit found in supermarket vending machines, all the way up to relatively high-end toys and games sold at major retailers like Target.
Let’s look at a few specific items that have been recalled recently.
Confessions of a pizza delivery girl
I put myself through college delivering your damn pizza, and I learned more from those jobs than I ever did in class.
- We judge you: You think you already know this. You have no fucking idea. We don’t even look at your pie. We know an internet addict from a working mom before we even pull into the driveway. We sum you up on delivery, and exaggerate the story on our way back to the store. By the time your profile is shared with our fellow drivers, it would make your whore of a grandmother cry.
- We don’t want a slice of your pie : Any driver who has been on the job longer than 2 weeks can’t fucking stand the smell of pizza. It’s permeated his/her hair, clothes, car upholstery. A shower does not take the stench away. Do not offer your driver a slice. Do, however, offer adult beverages and illicit substances.
- We don’t remember your tip : Unless you order everyday, or your tip is extravagantly large, or a gooseegg, we aren’t going to remember it. We won’t spit in your pizza next month because you only tipped 5%.
- How to get your pie spit in : Live a long ass way from the curb. Have alot of stairs to haul our asses up. Be better than us. Pay us in change.
- We don’t want your coupon : Every place I’ve ever worked didn’t require the coupon. Don’t bother giving it to us unless we ask. We just wad them up, throw them on the floor of our cars.
- Your driver is probably stoned : Unless we’re broke. If your driver doesn’t look stoned, please tip well, so s/he can get *well*
- Your nudity : We see alot of it. Customers think they’re being outrageous, doing something noone has done before, shocking us. Frankly, in an 8hour shift, we’ve seen at least 2 customers in the all together. Don’t flash, unless you’re hot. Or have weed.
- I am not new : If your driver tells you she is new, she is probably lying. We learn on our first day that “I’m sorry, I’m new” covers a multitude of sins, and normally nets a fat tip. If I was running late, the pizza didn’t survive the trip, or just wanted some sympathy, “I’m new”.
- We work really fucking hard : It’s a difficult job. Late pizzas usually aren’t our fault, but we get bitched. Incomplete orders usually aren’t our fault, but we get bitched. People are assholes. Be nice to your driver
Analog to Digital and Crack Again
This fuckin’ cutey-cute-cute ball of cuteness is one of my favorite songs. The accompianing video elevates it higher than James Brown on an interstate police chase. It’s by hometown favorites, Grandaddy (if your hometown is Modesto-Fucking-California). Sadly, they are no more, due in part to drugs, alcohol and madness… and drugs. They reached such great heights for a band so strange and unsuited for mass marketing and commercial success… and they’re from Modesto, the town that turned out George Lucas and my father, two of the most colossal disasters in modern history (sorry dad). (more…)
Ration Reality Comics: Mommy, am I going to hell?
See the previous comic here!
-Bagel & Jesse
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From Milk to Milf Lickity-Split
This entry generously donated by my good friend, Bakes™. I kept his original layout as best I could. WordPress has a way of fuxing with format.
Ya’ll go visit him, ya hear?
-Bagel
Yesterday on my lunch hour, I pulled in to my favorite full-service gas station for a fill-up because I’m lazy. It’s my favorite because they employ the Sam Farha of gas-pumpers - a kind man patrolling the island with an unlit smoke dangling from his snout.
“I’ll see your ten gallons of unleaded and raise you to super octane.”
I’m hanging patiently during the gas-up when the attendant - sporting the trademark Marb - taps onto my window. I look up to his hand pointed in the direction of a girl who’s strutting the catwalk to her car at the other end of the pumps. Golden highlights. Oversized sunglasses. Tight low-cut top teeming with breast. Extra tight capris. Two-inch heels. Quite the little succubus.
Television Wrapup for 6/17: HBO’s ‘Entourage’ and ‘Flight of the Conchords’
Entourage, Season 4 Premiere
Tonight was the first episode of season 4 for HBO’s Entourage. Season 3 ended only about 3, maybe 4 weeks ago, so I’m not quite sure what happened with the off-season, but I’m not complaining.
Anyway, when last we left the boys, Vince and Eric had just finished raising the money for Medellin. Billy Walsh was onboard as director. Ari was skeptical, Nick Rubenstein (with the money) was pissed, but he signed the check anyway.
Well, we come back and … it’s a little different. They’re getting ready to film the movie, and this episode was done in the style of a behind-the-scenes documentary, the sort of bullshit thing that’s a special feature on a DVD but you never watch it. Some little British poof narrates, but we never see him. It was a good idea, but the execution of it was off - they used it for throwaway gags, and to allow them to squeeze 3 or 4 months into one half hour.
This episode covered way too much territory. At the start of the show, they’re just arriving in Colombia, still casting locals in the role. By the end of the show, they’ve wrapped principal photography on the movie and they’re ready to head home and edit. There were too many separate storylines that all had to come together in only a half-hour, and the results seemed just entirely too pat. This should have been at least an hour of television, maybe an hour and a half. (more…)
I like things
I don’t want candy, I need candy,
and when you need something it’s a responsibility!
-Meatwad - ATHF
I like things.
I especially like these things.
You should probably buy them for me. You know you want to.
You should also send me naked pictures of yourself. Or, if you’ve not yet reached the age of majority, send naked pictures of your father. Sneak into the bathroom when he’s showering. He’ll never know.
No? Selfish, aren’t you?
At least you should buy this, for yourself:
Might as well preorder it, since you’ll be buying it anyway.
Preorders help bands more than you may know.
16volt are good people, and the music will fuck you up.
-bagel
Ration Reality Product Test - Chocolate Soldier
So there I was, strolling along through the crap-infested monstrosity known as Big Lots. No matter what the advertising on television tells you, Big Lots is in fact a steaming pile of shit. This does not, however, stop me from shopping there from time to time. Today was one of those times.
While wandering the aisles, picking up off-brand Q-tips (99 cents for 1,500, you can’t beat that!), I happened upon a product called Chocolate Soldier. It’s a drink, apparently similar to Yoo-Hoo. It looked … well, quite frankly it looked fucking disgusting, and I decided that at the price of $1.50 for a six-pack, I could not pass it up. I grabbed one, put it in the cart, and rushed home to put it in the refrigerator. (more…)
The Ghosts of Greatness Past
…or How I Learned to Start Worrying and Hate the Bomb
RationReality continues our probe into the minds of modern musicians with examinations of two highly regarded bands: Wilco and Nine Inch Nails. Although they may seem like unlikely bedfellows they are both part of a phenomenon we’ll refer to as manic confusion. This phenomenon has multiple sources. It’s only known cure is Ration Reality Intelligence.
NIN and Wilco have transformed themselves many times. I suppose it was inevitable that this would take a bad turn somewhere along the line. The issue at hand is their latest incarnations. Both acts have stripped away what they saw as artifice in favor of a leaner, less complicated sound, forgetting in the process that their complexity and avant garde tendencies are what got them to where they are today. Both bands began their careers with bare bones type records, Wilco’s A.M.
