The year was 1884. Nikolai Tesla had been recruited by Thomas Edison to come to America and work in one of his expensive and widely celebrated laboratories. Tesla worked day and night, enthusiastically taking on the company’s most troublesome problems and devising ingenious solutions to each one. Indeed, the future looked bright for Tesla… that is, until one fateful night.
While putting the finishing touches on a prototype DC generator, Tesla heard a commotion coming from Mr. Edison’s study. As he crept up the long winding staircase he heard the muffled screams of a girl. He rushed in and kicked open the door. “Mr. Edison!” he exclaimed, and to his horror he discovered Thomas Edison, hunched over the corpse of a young girl, his eyes glowing and fresh blood dripping down his chin.
Now that the season finale of Jersey Shore has come and gone, and the series premiere of Check It Out! w/ Dr. Steve Brule is not yet upon us, I feel a serious emptiness in my gutty region. In thinking of how to pass the in-between time, I’ve come to two realizations: one being that I truly need to visit a gastroenterologist and the other being that the 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon Game is very outdated. I’ve taken it upon myself to invent a new, similar game which will surely sweep the nation with the alacrity of viral internet videos and the staying power of genital herpes. I give you: “The 4 Degrees of Matthew McConaughey’s Shitty Romantic Comedy Game” (or “4 Degrees of McConadon!”, for short). Read more »
Inspired by some of the greatest comedians of all time (ie. Dane Cook, Jeff Dunham and Carlos Mencia), Matt and I have recently been considering a foray into the art of stand-up comedy. Of course, we could never be as good as the aforementioned legends of the stage, who wield puppets and hop around with the grace and skill only a lifetime of dedication to the craft could produce. We understand this, and so I’ve put together a little example of why it would be a horrible idea for me to do stand-up comedy. Ladies and gentlemen…let’s welcome to the stage…me bombing:
A little over twelve hundred years ago Charlemange was officially crowned the first Imperator of the Holy Roman Empire. Throughout his reign he established the foundation of both the French and German monarchies, united almost all of Europe and helped shape the western world as we know it. Now, you have to admit it, that’s a pretty impressive resume, but it pales in comparison to that of his direct descendent: Sir Chirstopher Lee.
In a career spanning more than 62 years, Sir Christopher Lee has played 260+ roles (most of which are villains), has recently been knighted and is a prominent figure in just about everything that has ever mattered. He was Saruman in The Lord of the Rings, Count Dooku in Star Wars, “Pistols” Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun and has played Count Dracula so many times that as far as my brain is concerned, he IS Count Dracula. Seriously, looking at his IMDB page is like looking into the Grand Canyon. So of course when the time came to tell the tale of ol’ Charles I it only made sense to cast the emperor’s most bad-ass relative for the lead. Read more »
If you’ve never received an @reply from Bixby Snyder, then you may not be interested in this blog (but consider researching that reference).
I must admit that as a child, I was not a huge fan of Paul Verhoeven’s work. I mean, what child not reared in an East German S&M den would be? My prudish upbringing aside, though, there’s no denying he had an impressive run from ’87 to ’92 with Robocop, Total Recall and Basic Instinct, and along with my chest hair, my appreciation for Verhoeven films has grown over the years. That is to say, slowly and disproportionately. Of course, this blog isn’t about Paul Verhoeven (sorry, Dieter), so perhaps I should get to the point.
Of the three aforementioned classics, I think my heart belongs mostly to Robocop. There are many and varied reasons for this (not the least of which involves a man’s body being jellified by toxic waste and then liquefied by a car), but mostly I think it’s the fact that as a kid, all my heroes were cops (See, Martin Riggs; See also, John McClane; See also, Max Rockatansky). So even though Peter Weller was basically a blonde Mark Harmon and he always looked like he was wearing lip gloss, I was predisposed to think he was a badass. Read more »
If you are ever hanging out with your girlfriend in a haunted graveyard and some big red demon swoops down out of nowhere and carries her off, take my advice and forget about her because she is gone, man.
Seriously, DO NOT run into that graveyard after her, I don’t care what she says she’s the princess of.
I know what you’re thinking: “But I have this armor, and all these lances! I’ll be fine.” You will not be fine. Your armor is useless and you will wind up being chased off of a cliff in your underpants by a bunch of zombies, some witch guys, fire, some more demons and (worst of all) birds. Eventually you will be crushed into a pile of embarrassing bones.
Who takes a date to a graveyard anyway? Honestly, what did you expect to happen? Read more »
