The Do’s and Don’ts of Snowquestration

The northeastern U.S. is expecting major snowfall today, with some areas receiving up to 12 inches.  Schools are closing, government offices are shutting down, and nature’s bedlam is collectively dick-slapping our peaceful society. If you’re worried, here are some helpful Do’s and Don’ts for dealing with  the storm dubbed the Snowquestration: 

* DO stock up on non-perishable canned goods before the storm. DON’T mug an old woman for the last can of Beefaroni.

* DO clear all the ice and snow off the roof of your car. DON’T throw it all into the street and then spray the pile with your hose in order to “teach your neighbors a lesson.”

* DO make an adorable snowman with the neighborhood children. DON’T give him snow-genitalia.

* DO help your older neighbors shovel their snow. DON’T ridicule them for being physically unable to do what you can while flexing and winking like Patrick Bateman.

* DO While you can call your local radio stations for news on school cancellations. DON’T call the elementary school to request Foghat.

DO invite your significant other over to spend your snow day sipping hot chocolate and watching movies in your pajamas. DON’T force her/him to watch Hellboy II, and then after she/he doesn’t like it, berate her/him for not fully appreciating the dramatic quality of the Hellboy series. Also, DON’T crumble a Snickers bar into a mug of warm water and call it  Swiss Miss.

* DO feel free to spend the day in your pajamas. If they’re pajamas with feet, DON’T expect to ever get laid.

* DO watch the Weather Channel for frequent updates; DON’T start dropping meteorology lingo into everyday conversations. Like: Excuse me, waiter? I understand that the chef must be feeling a lot of barometric pressure on a busy night like this, but can I get salmon that isn’t half-cooked? Also when you come back I will explain what a jet stream is.

* DO work from home and treat your living room as if it was your work space. If you get snowed in at work, DON’T sit at your desk eating Honey Nut Cheerios with no pants on.

* DO dress comfortably and wear long johns and sweatpants. DON’T use it as an excuse to break out your flannel assless chaps.

* DO put salt on the sidewalk in front of your house. DON’T throw it into the eyes of your opponent. Note: This advice applies to Mr. Fuji only.

* DON’T take the day off of work, drink excessively, and dive naked into the snow, proclaiming yourself as “King of the Arctic.”

There is no DO that goes with that one.


Deconstructing The Muppet Christmas Carol: Part 1

In 1992, the creators of the Muppets recruited the greatest actor alive (Sir Michael Caine) to recreate the classic Dickens novel “A Christmas Carol.” It’s one of my favorite Christmas movies for three reasons:

1. It has the Muppets.

2. It has Michael Caine.

3. For some reason, it became a yearly tradition for my brothers, sister, and me to watch it at least once (while stuffing our faces with our Mom’s cooking) during the holiday season and ripping it to shreds with the most inappropriate jokes imaginable. If you’ve never seen it, let me be your guide. Over the next few weeks I’ll be unveiling a three-part series detailing the classic film. Onto part one:

The story begins with prose directly from Dickens out of the mouths’ of our narrators, Gonzo and Rizzo. Gonzo is subbing for Charles Dickens himself while Rizzo is subbing for Charles Dickens’ gay pet rat. We then follow Scrooge on his lonely walk to work as several Muppets loudly sing a number about what a dick this guy is. Somehow, he doesn’t hear a word of what they’re saying and keeps walking, oblivious. I don’t know about you, but if a Swedish chef, a bunny, three penguins, some vegetables, and a group of  pigs in bonnets sang to me about what an assface I was, I would at least pause.

Scrooge shows up to work with his trusty assistant, Bob Cratchit, played here by Kermit. They’re also joined by several rats wearing dress shirts and vests. Using Bob as their spokesman, the rats beg Scrooge for more coal. But shouldn’t they, as dirty rats, just be thankful that Scrooge is paying them at all? First off, having eight rats running around your office all day is a heinous and flagrant health code violation.  Jacob Marley probably died from the Plague. Secondly, if they’ve matured enough to wear shirts, why not go for the gold and throw some pants on? It would probably cut down on all the rat shit.  If you ask me, Scrooge is a nice guy just for not making them wear tiny diapers.

Scrooge is then visited by his a couple of guys looking for a handout, here played by Bunson and Beaker. If you’re unfamiliar with these characters, Bunson looks like Ziggy if he caught pneumonia, and Beaker resembles what I imagine a turkey dick and balls would look like. After that it’s a visit from Scrooge’s human nephew. It’s jarring to see another non-Caine human show up to the proceedings. During their whole exchange, I kept waiting for Scrooge to break into tears and ask, “Why do you think we’ve been trapped in this alternate dimension where we’re two of like, fifteen humans that live in London? What has happened? Yesterday, I went to the deli to get some roast beef and ended up having an elephant sing me a song about how much he loves making sandwiches. What in the fuck is going on?”

After dispatching his nephew, a caroler played by Bean Bunny interrupts Scrooge. This causes Scrooge to wind up like El Duque and chuck a Christmas wreath at him in my favorite shot of the movie. It’s then onto Cratchit’s famous haggling with Scrooge over time off. It’s hard to believe that as Scrooge’s only legal employee, Bob wouldn’t have negotiated some type of leave into his deal. I know the rats work there also, but you can’t tell me Scrooge wasn’t paying them under the table. No way they were legal.

Next time: part two, in which the guy who played Alfred is haunted by the ghosts of John Madden and Pat Summerall.


Avengers Plot Details

The highlight of last weekend’s Comic-Con, a yearly gathering of virgins dressed up like Aquaman and Harry Potter, was the assembly of the full line-up for Marvel’s Avengers, slated for release in 2012. I was able to get my hands on a copy of the script’s rough draft, and there are a few surprises within:
* In a scene described as a “Benny Hill-like chase sequence,” Captain America travels to Arizona and spends several pages comically running around after illegal immigrants.
* To begin the film, the Avengers argue about which Baldwin each one would be.
* Due to the contentious relationship between the two, neither Captain America or Iron Man is declared the leader. Instead, the team extends the honor to Popeye.
* Characters frequently and openly refer to Batman.
* Due to the fact that Sony owns the film rights to Spiderman until 2017, a character lazily described as “Arachnid-Dude,” makes his debut. The character is described thusly: “A sarcastic yet vulnerable teenager. Physically resembles Tobey MacGuire. Makes out with Kirstin Dunst and his Aunt May is a real nag. Did we say Aunt May? We meant Aunt…Cr..ay. Aunt Cray. Yes, that is the ticket.”
* Poorly conceived and executed subplot featuring an Ant-Man/Christ parallel.
* Scarlett Johanssen’s character is not called the Black Widow as she usually referred to in the comics. Here she’s called Trampy McHooterstown.
* Hawkeye, while usually appearing as an archer in a purple costume, here is described as being a wisecracking Korean War era Army surgeon.
* The plot revolves around the Green Goblin kidnapping Christopher Nolan and forcing him to give a detailed explanation of what the hell happened to DiCaprio at the end of Inception.
* When asked if he thought that Cyclops and Professor Xavier deserved their respective fates in the X3, Nick Fury responds: “YES THEY DESERVE TO DIE, AND I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL!” He went on to state, “YOU WANT MY BLOOD? TAKE MY BLOOD. GET ME SABEAN.”

Fake Review: Inception

Every once in awhile, a movie comes along that that seems beyond reproach. It assembles a group of cast and filmmakers so talented that it is destined not to suck.

Sorry to say it, but Inception is not one of those films.

I was pretty pumped for it. It has Christopher Nolan, one of the great filmmakers. Leonardo DiCaprio, one of the great actors. Unfortunately, it falls flat.

I’m going to get into a very spoiler-filled discussion of the plot, so if you haven’t seen this piece of dreck you should stop now.

The movie opens up with Michael Caine and DiCaprio watching the Robin Williams film What Dreams May Come. DiCaprio says, “Robin Williams is a hell of an actor.” Caine replies brusquely, “Yeah. He’s a much better actor than your dead wife!” The two of them get into a well choreographed 25 minute fist fight which features swords, nunchakus, pyrotechnics, and a laser light show. The fight itself is amazing, but it does nothing to move the plot forward. Also, the realism is affected by the fact that Michael Caine’s stunt double is a black guy.

After DiCaprio bludgeons Caine with a bust of Beethoven, ending the brawl, he looks directly into the camera and states, “Now that I just pwned Alfred, whaddya say we go steal some dreams?”

DiCaprio travels to his office, where his company has the not so subtle name of “DiCaprio’s Dreamstealers,” even though DiCaprio’s name in the film is Cobb. There, we meet his staff: Joseph Gordon Levitt, Tom Hardy, and an unexpected cameo from Ben Kingsley playing the same character he played in Shutter Island. As DiCaprio fills out some tedious paperwork (another twenty minute block of the film), he looks up at Kingsley and says, “Hey, did you ever find those invoices I asked you about?”

“Uhh, no,” says Kingsley. “It’s as if they evaporated…straight through the walls.”

DiCaprio gets so pissed that he fires Kingsley on the spot. Before Kingsley leaves, he launches into an impromptu Gandhi impression, seemingly just to prove that he’s a superior actor. Several members of the crew attempt to restrain him and pull him away. They’re unsuccessful until a key grip smacks him over the head with a boom mic. One wonders why this whole exchange wasn’t edited out of the final cut.

With Kingsley’s departure, DiCaprio is forced to interview a new assistant. He brings in Ellen Page. As DiCaprio asks her the standard interview questions, he breaks into a stirring rendition of Gary Wright’s Dreamweaver. After he goes through the song three or four times, it becomes clear that the script isn’t complete and they’re just killing time. More evidence of this: Gordon-Levitt openly checks his watch, and Tom Hardy yells out, “Maybe we could play Jenga or something.” DiCaprio waves this suggestion off as he kicks his chair away and launches into a spirited version of Billy Ocean’s Get Outta My Dreams (Get Into My Car).

Once the film hits the hour mark – the minimum amount of time required to make a feature length film – Chris Nolan emerges from behind the camera dressed in a Batman suit made out of $100 bills. He lights a cigar and says directly into the camera, “Y’all should check out Memento. Now that was a hell of a picture.” He chuckles softly to himself, repeats the refrain: “A hell of a picture!” and walks off camera.

And that’s pretty much it.

Study Links Declining Bee Population to Cell Phone Use

According to a new report, cell phone radiation may be contributing to the decline in world’s bee population. Here to comment with a guest blog is beloved children’s book character, Winnie the Pooh:

Oh bother. It appears that my favorite summer treat may be in danger of disappearing. I don’t know what I would possibly do without my honey. And as you know, without my forest friend the honeybee, I will be forever deprived of my most treasured afternoon snack. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to not be able to stick my paw into a gooey jar of the world’s most delicious treat. I asked my friend Piglet about it, and we talked about what possibly could be done about this troubling quandary.

We came to this conclusion: humans, stop using cell phones, or I will eat absolutely every person I see.

That’s right. I may be a shy and bashful woodland creature, but I did not stutter. If the usage of all cell phones is not halted immediately, I will unleash the beast inside me that has been aching to get out for as long as I can remember. I’m not playing. I’ll rip off my red t-shirt, find the nearest camping ground, and start sucking down tourists like they were animal crackers. Men, women, children. It don’t matter. I’ll make the Hundred Acre Wood look like the beaches of Normandy. 

Think I”m playing? That’s fine. I don’t mind having a couple of lumberjacks for dinner just to prove my point. My favorite sandwich is Paul Bunyan on rye.

Many have asked how I’ve been able to quell the bloodlust that lives inside of each and every bear. For years I’ve been ridiculed within the bear community for my easygoing attitude and affable nature. Let me tell you my secret: honey. Something about it soothes me and allows me to become a functioning member of our peaceful forest society along with an owl, rabbit, pig, gopher, and tiger. Not to mention a kangaroo and her bastard joey. Getting my daily fix of honey takes the edge off and lets me see clearly. You take that away?  I’m going Into the Wild on all your asses.

I know what you’re thinking: but isn’t your very best friend Christopher Robin, a human boy? To that I say: absolutely. Christopher Robin is my boy, and I know he’ll always have my back no matter what. Christopher Robin gave Winnie the Pooh a home when no one else believed in Winnie the Pooh. But if this cell phone radiation thing keeps up, I’ll eat him first. Just to show everyone I mean business.

So cut out the cell phones and save the bees or you’re going to be in for a world of hurt. I won’t even stop at people. Cows, goats, dogs, horses. Farms, zoos, the Kentucky Derby. I have no absolutely no qualms about letting my bear flag fly. I’ve kept myself in check for too long anyway. It’s about time for me to do me. 

Oh, and wrap your brain around this: one of my best friends is a tiger. So the next time you think about opening up your IPhone and making a call, just imagine a crazy bear going through honey withdrawal riding towards you on the back of a snarling jungle cat. Followed by an army of charging, pissed-off heffalumps.

The Queen Visits New York

This week Queen Elizabeth makes her first visit to New York City since 1976. Here are some of her planned activities:

  • Working the 9 a.m. – 3 p.m. shift at Scores.
  • Chopper ride to the Statue of Liberty; will hang off the chopper’s rope ladder and spray paint quotes from the British version of The Office on Lady Liberty’s ass.
  • A Mets game to flick off and spit at the crowd until she’s escorted up to Jerry Seinfeld’s private box.
  • Central Park for a handsome cab ride during which she will see how many joggers she can hit with croquet balls.
  • Not sure where she’ll be on Thursday night, but damn sure she’ll back to the hotel promptly by 9/8 central in time to catch her favorite show, Burn Notice.
  • Bloomingdale’s to see if she can nick some high quality shit to sell on the street.
  • Harlem Boys’ Choir rehearsal to see if she can recruit some of those dandies for her fancy boy English army.
  • High tea with Madam Snookie.
  • Hot 97 studios to freestyle with Funkmaster Flex and give her take on the BET Awards.
  • Broadway to compare foofy top hats with Nathan Lane.
  • Yankee Stadium to explain the rules of cricket to George Steinbrenner followed by Mr. Steinbrenner offering $85 million to an Indian guy in  giant shin guards, a helmet, and khakis to play left.

The World's Worst Parting Gift, aka Amare Stoudemire

The New York Knicks front office and upper management is, in short, a complete and total alligator fuckhouse.

The Knicks made a pitch for LeBron James last week. According to reports, that was a disaster. Now the Knicks have signed Amare Stoudemire to a $100 million contact. And he wants to lure Carmelo Anthony and Tony Parker to New York to play with him.

With that, I’d like to officially tender my resignation as a Knicks fan.

You’ve sacrificed four seasons in the hopes of signing one guy. You cleared cap room by trading decent players (Jared Jeffries), taking on bad contracts (Tracy McGrady), and you don’t have any first round draft picks until 2029. So free agency finally comes around, and your backup plan is to sign a moody headcase to play power forward (by the way, the only truly first rate player you have right now? A power forward) and hope that you can trade for a couple players under contract until 2011?

Here are some better ideas:

  • Re-hire Isiah Thomas as coach, GM, and point guard.
  • Ask the league if you can play by “Globetrotter Rules” and hire the entire And1 team to play.
  • Take a time machine back to colonial New York and sign five genuine Knickerbockers.
  • Pay the Philadelphia Eagles $5 million for the rights to Michael Vick.
  • To save money, let Dario Gallinari take the floor with coach Mike D’Antoni, owner James Dolan, and 69 year old GM Donnie Walsh. Do not field a fifth player.

Don’t get me wrong. If they can get Carmelo, Parker, and Stoudemire on the same team, they’d make the playoffs. Possibly even finish in the top four. But that’s the point. Three years ago, we were here saying, “If the Knicks can get LeBron, they’ll be back!” There’s nothing in the Knicks plans about building a stable franchise or acquiring mid-level affordable talent. It’s a fantasy team.  Getting back into contention is all about the promise of acquiring the next big name. I’d love to see the Knicks run a soup kitchen. “Sorry bums, no soup today..but tomorrow we’ve got lobster!”

So they went out and signed Amare. Who’s running the Knicks, me putting together an NBA Live team circa 2004? Stoudemire is crazy and gets injured a lot. He’s also the answer to the Jeopardy question, “When the Knicks strike out with the two free agents actually worth max contracts in 2010, the Knicks signed this oft-injured, overrated dog with questionable effort levels out of desperation.” He’s a headcase who has given less than 100% for certain coaches he’s played for. One of those coaches being his current coach. It’s like the plot of a bad sitcom. Mike and Amare hated each other in Phoenix. Now, they’re both back…but on the same team! Will they be able to coexist without driving each other crazy? Tune in next week for another episode of the nutty new sitcom, This is a Fucking Terrible Idea!

So that’s it for me. Unless the Knicks can convince LeBron to sign, like they’ve tacitly guaranteed their fan base they would over the past four years, I’m done. Thanks for nothing, James Dolan. But as big of a fuck up as you are as an owner, you’ll never be able to take this away. I’m going to spend the rest of the free agency period watching that clip and pretending the Knicks didn’t spend six figures on this generation’s Shawn Kemp.

Enjoy the next five years of this, Knicks fans: