Beneath the Mississippi (2008)

There are two groups of people who can never be succinct: conspiracy theorists and low-budget moviemakers. Seriously, there is no reason for this Blair Witch-on-a-boat nonsense to be nearly two hours long, but I'm a sucker for movies that take place in flooded/submerged towns (I actually paid to see Hard Rain, in the theaters), so here I am again, wading (heh) through another badly-made shitfest just because it toggled one of my weird, highly-specific triggers. (Other bizarre, specialized triggers I instantly respond to are: cute Asian chicks dressed as ladybugs; any movie where someone has sex, willingly or otherwise, with a tree; and anything involving giant bees). Unlike giant, Asian bee sex however, this movie is completely incomprehensible. The picture looks like shit -- alternately too dark or super washed out -- pretty much 100% of the time, which means that while you could say that you've watched this movie, you can't honestly say that you've seen it.

Beneath the Mississippi - the thrilling climax. I'm totally not kidding here.

You can't hear a goddamned thing either, because the sound is usually completely muffled, except of course when they suddenly get one sound effect or scream right and it blows out your speakers because you had them cranked to maximum to hear the dialogue. (Maybe their microphone guy was recording the dialogue portions from... beneath the Mississippi! Ha ha! Seriously though, I wouldn't be surprised if that really was the case.) Hell, even the size of the picture keeps changing: it's like watching two people with dueling remotes fight over what aspect ratio they want to watch the movie at. I kid you not, the only way a movie could be any more visually and audibly inaccessible is if it was shot by tying a video camera to the back of a truck and dragging it around the parking lot. At night. And of course it's too fucking long, even for a movie that wasn't a fucking torture-chore to watch. (The back of the DVD case says that it's 109 minutes; when it reached the 110-minute point and still wasn't over I'm not ashamed to admit that I started crying.)

So what is it actually about? Well, since you can barely see or hear anything there's really no way to know, although the front and back of the DVD promise a flooded/haunted town so I guess that's what all the muffled assholes on screen (whoever they are) are looking for. (Of course, we never actually see this submerged town, because that might actually be interesting.) There was this ominous musical sting every so often, so I guess whatever was going on at those specific moments was supposed to be ominous, but it never seemed particularly ominous to me. Usually it was just washed-out blurs standing around mumbling. There's no sting when the audience (but not the characters) sees the first dead body though, something most people would consider pretty ominous, so maybe that's the key: maybe this entire cunt movie was made on Opposite Day, so that's why it has sound you can't hear and a picture you can't see and is ostensibly entertainment but in practice is simply waiting for it to be over. Honestly, it's all so jaw-droppingly incompetent that eventually I was just grateful that the picture was right-side-up most of the time. (Yes, at one point it isn't. But that was on purpose, probably.) 

I'm not one to engage in hyperbole and shit, but everyone who worked on this movie deserves to die.

----------
Want to avoid bad movies like this one? Mr. Satanism can help.

Making Contact (1985)

By the mid-1980s, everyone wanted to ape Steven Spielberg's suburbia-centric "sense of wonder" shtick; you can see it in movies as diverse as Explorers (1985), The Gate (1987), and Pulse (1988), which, minus Spielberg's suffocating influence, would almost certainly have been a disposable children's film, an R-rated horror flick, and unproduced, respectively. Of all the late-1980s Spielberg wannabes though, the most wildly unhinged has to be Making Contact, created by Roland Emmerich, the guy who would go on to bury movie theaters in a deluge of liquid shit including but not limited to Independence Day (1996), Godzilla (1998), Eight-Legged Freaks (2002), The Day After Tomorrow (2004), 10,000 BC (2008), and so, so many more. Seriously, it's a wonder every movie fan on the planet hasn't killed themselves. Anyway, this flick concerns a kid with ESP who regularly talks to his dead pop on a toy telephone, owns a toy robot sporting the most sophisticated A.I. I've ever seen, and spends most of the running time being terrorized by the ugliest, dirtiest, smelliest (probably) ventriloquist's dummy you've ever seen.

Still waiting on that Magic, Part 2 callback.

On a scene-by-scene basis it's an awkward, clumsy disaster, full of sequences that make no real sense and that seem to have been included simply because "I dunno, magic". The end result is completely batshit retarded and plays out like a deranged alternate reality version of Poltergeist (one where Steven Spielberg ate a lot of paint chips as a child) crossed with bottom-barrel E.T. ripoff and all-time Mystery Science Theater 3000 favorite Pod People (1983), with elements from The Goonies, The Monster Squad, Poltergeist II, and Labyrinth randomly tossed into the salad for no apparent reason other than to make the end result as mind-fuckingly incomprehensible as possible. Oh, and Star Wars too, literally in this case: copyright be damned there's a scene in this movie where several kids are menaced by honest-to-fuck Darth Vader, who's sporting a lightsaber and everything. It's unbelievable. So if you've ever wondered what Steven Spielberg's early-1980s output would look like if you edited them all together into one mega movie and then let a schizophrenic person cut the result down to 75 minutes while huffing ether, well, here's your goddamned answer you fucking lunatic. The fact that the person responsible for this fuckgoggle went on to become one of the most successful people in Hollywood just goes to show that anything, and I mean anything, is possible. As long as you're a gibbering maniac.

----------

A Chronology on Elm Street will return next week.

Armageddon (1986)

"Armageddon It"!

Fuck yeah! Actually this tape is about the end of the world, which is no laughing matter. Until about ten seconds in, when they get to the psychics. The most famous of these being Nostra-dumbass, the historical cat who could supposedly see the future but actually had the balls to say that when he wrote it down he "deliberately obscured his meaning". How convenient. (Then again, his advocates insist that he did accurately predict the rise of "Hister", whoever the hell that was.) What's particularly hilarious is how all these jokers have a fairly high success rate when they're predicting stuff that occurred up to the point when this documentary was produced, but pretty much a zero percent success rate when they're predicting stuff that's supposed to happened afterwards. Unless Northern Europe and Japan really were destroyed in 1998 and I just missed it. Hey, it's possible. I drink a lot.

China: "Our bad."

In addition to the psychics this documentary also features the ghost of Jesus's mom (who apparently likes to fly around tiny, pissant villages, terrorizing small children), survivalists, Christians, and the Swiss, who have an entire underground city to wait out the end days in that they probably built with all that Jewish gold they wouldn't give back. My absolute favorite though was the "pyramidologist"; these clowns believe that pyramids can do pretty much anything, including sharpen knives and tell the future. They're basically functional retards:

Stupid ducks...

To summarize: all of these clowns are cracked in different, entertaining ways, but the one thing they agree on is that the end is coming soon, so you might want to hit the Sam's Club and stock up on toilet paper now. Any hot chicks who survive, look me up. If it's the end of the world, I want me a harem.

----------
Movies, throttled into submission. The Mr. Satanism Library. Available here.

Pauly Shore is Dead (You'll Never Wiez in This Town Again) (2003)

There are two ways this could have been cool:

1. If Pauly Shore actually faked his own death, and then, after finding out what everyone said about him, revealed he was alive and made a movie about it, exposing their insincerity and hypocrisy
2. If instead of a movie, it was a newspaper headline

Unfortunately, Pauly Shore isn't dead (spoiler warning; and this might be the biggest spoiler of all time because it doesn't just spoil the movie, it spoils your whole day). And he didn't fake his own death either. Instead, this is a movie about what might happen if he faked his own death. So basically it's a bunch of people acting like they think he's dead, except they know he's not, so in reality it's just a parade of pointless horseshit. Talk about fucking lame. In fact, this is more than just fucking lame, or even FUCKING LAME. It's

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that an endlessly irritating, monkey-fucking, scab-peeling, ass-burrowing, diaper-licking, foot-smelling, jizz-leaking, pole-smoking, corn-inserting, leg-humping, biker-bathing, urine-chugging, panty-stealing, rim-jobbing, ditch-rutting, butt-picking, pit-trimming, peat-eating, anus-huffing, wino-spooning, piss-dribbling, booger-rolling, turd-saving, recycled water-chugging, ball-nuzzling, toilet-dwelling, pus-sucking, urethra-targeting, sewage-dipping, pube-farming, cum-scrubbing, oven-cleaning, snot-slurping, poodle-molesting, zit-hunting, suppository-hoarding, penis-sniffing, scat-scarfing, book-burning, blood-letting, hemorrhoid-inducing, bottom-barreling, dickless, brainless, shitless, drip-ass, talent-deficient, dandruff bag cockwipe like Pauly Shore doesn't even get that the number one rule when pulling a prank or a scam is that you actually have to pull the prank or scam. What a sack-lapping, douche-violating... well, you know.

I... I know what all of those words mean, but they make no sense in this context.

What's really astounding is the parade of famous people he convinced to be in this hoax non-hoax cunt ripoff. Sure, a lot of them are addle-fucked has-beens or all-time losers (Rico Suave; that flakey beach bum from the O. J. Simpson trial; the lead limp from Limp Bizkit), but plenty of them are totally normal celebrities, except of course for their decision to be in a Pauly Shore movie that probably didn't even pay scale.

Truly a low point in cinematic history. No, scratch that. It's a low point in everything.
----------
For more Hollywood hate, check out The 100 Best Movies Ever Made ...Mostly Suck, available electronically or in paperback. It's the perfect gift for the person who hates everything.

The Goonies 'R' Not Good Enough

Spielberg: "So here's the basic idea: it's like Indiana Jones, but for kids. We'll cast Rudy, Short Round, the dirty Corey, and some fat-ass as the core group (I know some of those references refer to movies that haven't even been produced yet, just bear with me here), plus an older kid so parents don't freak out, and a couple of teenage chicks for the dads to ogle. We'll make one just straight-up pants-wetting hot, and her friend more stealth-hot. So these kids are all gonna have to move soon because, I dunno, some nonsense. Maybe because of eminent domain, or... the local country club is expanding! That's it: asshole rich people. Like Caddyshack. So they decide to have one final adventure together after they find a map to pirate treasure that just happens to be hidden in the main kid's attic, except it turns out the map and the pirates and the treasure are real. Lots of people have tried to find it, but none of them were plucky kids with no frame of reference for finding the treasure or any experience whatsoever, so of course our kids are the ones who figure it all out. First though, they have to get past these crooks, who are camped out right over the treasure site. The crooks catch them snooping around, but after they watch one crook torment his mutant, deformed, retarded brother by singing to him in Italian, the crooks forget why they grabbed the kids in the first place and just let them go. The kids sneak back in to look for the treasure, but... Wait, you know what? The crooks should catch one of the kids. We'll make it the fat one. Fat kids don't run so fast. So anyway, they catch the fat kid but the other kids make it into this underground labyrinth that's like Indiana Jones meets, oh, I dunno? Dungeons & Dragons? Kids still like that shit, right? I put it in E.T. so they must. When shit starts to get heavy some of the kids balk and want to escape, and in one part I think it would be great if they bang on some pipes in an attempt to summon help and the pipes are connected to the very country club that's running the kids out. Then one of the country club toilets could explode in a geyser of water and put the head of the guy who's sitting on it comically through the ceiling! And hey, maybe it's even someone who was a jerk to the kids earlier! Classic! Regardless, our main kid delivers a big pep talk so everyone decides to forge ahead after all and despite several deathtraps -- like Indy, again -- they finally find the treasure. Wow! But then the crooks find them and it looks like all is lost until the mutant shows up and saves the day! Why? Well, he previously bonded with the fat kid over candy because -- ha ha! -- that kid is just so fat, right? Anyway, we'll throw in an octopus attack (if it doesn't work we can always edit it out, while failing to edit out later dialogue referring to it), some mild racism, maybe have a scene where the hot chick tongues down one of the younger kids... What's that called? Pedo-something? I'll look it up. At any rate, in the end there's lots of special effects and maybe something falls down and it seems like they've lost the treasure forever, but then they didn't and everyone's home is saved even though that really doesn't make any sense when you consider even a tiny percentage of the legal issues that would ensue. Oh, and at the very end the pirate ship lifts anchor and sails dramatically away because, fuck it, ghosts. Or the power of magic. Some bullshit. What do you think?"

Studio: "Yeah. That sounds great, Steven. Let's maybe have someone else direct this one, okay?"

Above: The real reason this movie is so fondly remembered.

----------
For more reviews that aren't afraid to call bitch movies out, check out my many books here.

Die Hard 3: Try Harder (The Novelization)

Die Hard 3 is one of cinema’s biggest piles of shit (Disagree? You’re wrong.), which is hardly surprising since it didn’t even start out as a Die Hard movie. See, the original plan was for Part 3 to feature terrorists seizing a cruise ship, only to run afoul of a vacationing Die Hard, and by all indications ("all indications" being the sentence I just wrote) it would’ve been awesome. Unfortunately, some assholes went and made the movie Under Siege, which was basically the same thing, so naturally they dropped that idea because Hollywood would never release two movies with a remarkably similar premise all but simultaneously. Instead, they took some random script nobody could be bothered with up to that point, cut/pasted Die Hard’s name into it, and shot that, completely ignoring the fact that the script in question was criminally retarded. I mean, come the fuck on - the big gimmick is that the bad guy baffles the entire NYC police force with riddles we all learned in grade school. Cops may be a lot of things (slack-asses, corrupt, thugs), but they aren’t stupid. It’s like laziness and hackwork had a baby, and then it shit all over you while you were holding it. Die Hard with an Anus does feature one brilliant scene though: the jaw-dropping bit where Die Hard is walking through Harlem wearing a sandwich board and it’s suddenly revealed that the sandwich board says "I hate niggers". So how does the novelization handle this tense yet hilarious scene? By bitching out and having the sign read "I hate everybody".

What. The. FUCK???

Look, I get it. As an African American myself (hey, as far as you know), I hate the N word too. And if that’s your beef, fine, have the sign say "I hate black people" or something. But don’t set the whole thing up and then punk out entirely at the last second, especially when you have no problem using racial slurs against white people just a few sentences later. Fucking hypocrite. Seriously, how swollen does your vagina have to be to turn you into such a sniveling, PC cunt? (Oh, and don’t try to pretend you changed this scene to protect the reader from "spoilers". If someone didn’t want a movie spoiled for them, they wouldn’t be reading the goddamned novelization.)

And it’s not like the writing gets any better as the story progresses. At one point Die Hard yells "Bomb!" and we’re told nobody is impressed because they’re jaded New Yorkers. Then, 23 pages later, he yells "Bomb!" again (it’s a different bomb) and everyone panics because "This was New York. Anything was possible." Does the author really think that we aren’t going to remember what he said just a few pages ago? How dumb does he think we are? Fuck you, asshole.

So this book licks bung, but it may still be of interest to some people, because like a lot of movie novelizations it contains scenes that weren’t included in the final version of the film, including the original ending where Die Hard and the main bad guy play Russian roulette with a rocket launcher. (This ending is incredibly stupid, by the way.) For my money though, the guy who wrote this ("D. Chiel", obviously a made-up name. Or part of one, anyway.) should stick to subjects he’s more familiar with. Maybe he could write a book called "Cry Hard".

----------
I also write books. Check ‘em out.

Escape from Hell (2001)

This is a Christian movie, but Christians are big on Hell so I figured it might have some potential, like maybe the main guy, condemned to Hell for some heinous crime against God like believing in evolution or eating pork on a Wednesday or whatever, fights his way out of the fiery pits, cold-cocking demons left and right and finally blowing Satan himself away with a mega-bore rifle that shoots, I dunno, Bibles (NIV) or something. Well, the main guy does indeed go to Hell -- after pulling a Flatliners -- but he's only there for maybe ten minutes, tops. The rest is just set-up, although there are lots of clever little touches along the way, like the fact that the chick researching near-death experiences has placed a sign on the hospital roof that she changes on an irregular basis, knowing that only people experiencing a legitimate out-of-the-body experience will see it on their way to Heaven and be able to report it back to her correctly. Although my sign would've said something a lot more funny, like "You left the oven on".

"Ahhhhhhhhhgggghhhh!!! My area!"

The scenes in Hell are effectively gruesome (which is kind of surprising, since Christians generally hate violence and gore, unless they're personally inflicting it on someone else, of course), but in the end there's just too much manipulative crap, like showing the kind, loving family man condemned to Hell just because he didn't kowtow to someone else's narrow view of the universe. This, of course, is one of Christianity's classic angles: scaring you into believing in Jesus, although I have to wonder if that's what God really wants, to spend eternity surrounded by a bunch of easily-manipulated, opportunistic hypocrites? According to this movie, the answer, apparently, is yes.

Still, I did appreciate the term the researcher chick came up with to describe near-death cases where the subject imagines that they've visited Hell: "non-positive near-death experiences". Seriously, bitch should be in marketing.

----------
For more damned good reviews (get it?), check out one of my many books, available on Amazon. 

Unlucky Charms (2013)

Five supposed "babes" (pfft, I count one; the other four range in appearance from blandly doable to straight-up ugly, and that's being generous) are participating in what appears to be the most boring, unfocused reality show ever, until you realize that there is not a single camera, light, piece of equipment, or crew member in sight, which means that either a) these are the dumbest bitches ever, and they're all about to be sold into white slavery or b) the people who made this movie have so little respect for their audience that they can't even be bothered to half-ass it. As you probably guessed, it's the latter. The "plot", such as it is, concerns one of the judges, who's using these magically delicious (I'm assuming) charms to compel four monsters to kill the contestants so she can scarf down their souls and remain eternally young and beautiful. (One look at the skank should be ample proof that this plan isn't exactly working, but for the sake of the narrative just pretend that she doesn't immediately make your penis crawl inside your body and die, okay?) The monsters consist of a guy in a shitty cyclops mask that "blinks" via awful cartoon effects, two goons wearing goblin masks lifted from the Walgreen's Halloween aisle, and a red leprechaun suffering from what appears to be DEFCON 2-level acne. Seriously, try washing your face once in a while, you repulsive little fuck.

"Blandly doable to straight-up ugly..." How picky am I, right?

There's one funny joke ("Sorry, was that racist?"); the sole hottie shows us her tits; the ugly Asian chick shows us her fakes (they're absurd); the fat chick covers a video camera with a handkerchief to prevent the producers from hearing her (you dumb, fat bitch); and the guy playing the cyclops sports the kind of haircut that gets people disinherited and is constantly waggling his tongue around like he's still fourteen years old, working his uncle's asshole. Truly fucking terrible in every notable aspect: story, writing, logic, acting, casting, dialogue, makeup, special effects, not pissing me off... the list just goes on and on. In fact, it's a textbook example of a movie made by people who don't give a rat's ass if you're entertained or not, as long as they've already got your money. Just another infuriating example of our migration from a primarily service-based to a fully scam-based economy, where literally everything is an add-on, bait & switch, extra charge, or blatant fucking hose job. No, Target, you egg-sucking cunts, you can't swipe my driver's license so you can collect and sell my personal information. Did I say I wanted the meal, fuck-licker? Stop trying to up-sell me every goddamned time I come in and just get me the artery-clogging Big Mac I ordered. As a matter of fact, I won't pay a surcharge because I'm using a credit card, you money-grubbing, penny-pinching heeb. If you truly and honestly can't afford to keep your doors open because of a fourteen-cent Visa processing fee, maybe running a fucking business isn't part of your personal skill set, moron. And there's no such thing as "shift work disorder", you miserable pricks. It's called "being tired". STOP TRYING TO SELL ME STUPID, MADE-UP SHIT. I am so sick of your endless fucking chicanery. Fuck you, Corporate America, fuck you and die.

Of course, I probably shouldn't get too agitated in this particular case, seeing as I stole this movie via the Internet. Guess the joke's on you, assholes.

----------
For more righteous questionable fury, check out my books at Amazon.com.

Sierra's - don't take TELL you ask!

You know, it's bad enough that Sierra here actually wanted to own this copy of Kangaroo Jack, but to be so fucking gutter-tarded that she doesn't know the difference between the words "tell" and "until"? A chick this dumb isn't even worth the loads that are no doubt regularly blown in her face. Oh, and as an old fogey, it goes without saying that I weep for the future.

----------
Check out my latest book here. Oh, you needn't bother, Sierra. We know you're too dumb to read.

SB/SE: Leading Into the Future (IRS Star Trek) (2010)

This is it: the infamous Star Trek "parody" made by the IRS to teach their employees... wait for it... absolutely nothing. Seriously, this video contains no educational content whatsoever. It's just a bunch of dumb jokes, like Scotty using a hair dryer on the engines because, apparently, they got wet. (Jesus Christ.) I'm not here to be outraged though; like most supervillains, I funnel all my ill-gotten gains into offshore accounts long before the IRS gets wind of it, so what do I care what they spend your money on? No, I'm here to review this thing solely as entertainment, beyond all the entertainment we're getting from watching the people responsible sweat under official questioning, I mean. And, as such, it's definitely lacking. First off, how can you make the captain of the starship Enterprise black and not cast Morgan Freeman? Really, how much more would that have cost? We already know money was no object, so get into the spirit, IRS slackers, and do this shit right. Speaking of getting shit right (and this one's for the nerds): you got the uniforms backwards. The captain is supposed to wear yellow, and the peons wear red. For real, who doesn't know this? Hell, "redshirt" is part of our cultural lexicon, as in "I wonder which redshirt will take the blame for all this gratuitous IRS spending?" Another Star Trek trademark, female crew members sporting insultingly short, sexist skirts, is entirely absent, but rest assured it isn't missed, because the women in this thing are almost all fat, or hags, or, in the case of the communications officer, some sort of undying, lich-bait super hag. Are you telling me that not a single hottie on staff wanted to appear in your absurd, quasi-illegal, funds-misappropriating Star Trek movie? Never mind, I just answered my own question. Of course the jokes are fucking terrible -- operating at about the level you'd expect if you made a sci-fi flick with several people from the office -- but I did raise my Spock eyebrow at the captain's response when asked if he wanted to buy some overpriced coffee:

Captain: "I've already spent my per diem for the day."

And later, there's another "joke" (it's funny because it's true, apparently) about getting rich by becoming a public servant! Seriously, why don't they just throw handfuls of money into the air while flipping us off?

In conclusion, I seriously doubt that IRS Star Trek will ever be made available for purchase, but if it someday is, trust me, save your money. Oh, wait, you already paid for it! Ha ha!

----------
Get my latest book at a special low price! Night of the Living Dud - 100 Zombie Movies You Probably Haven't Seen, now available on Amazon. Click here.

Good Men (2011)

Lou Grant and another old fuck argue for ten minutes about something that only assholes and morons believe anymore (that 9/11 was a huge conspiracy, perpetrated by the American government), and then the guy who isn't Lou Grant pisses himself. Seriously, that's it. That's all we got goin' on here. It's the kind of movie that only someone who's tasted the sweet, forbidden love of his own mother's asshole would make, and it's so fucking slight and categorically pointless that there isn't even a genre to assign it to, unless there's such a thing as "idiot porn". Honestly, what butt-sniffer still thinks that we blew up 9/11 ourselves and then covered it up with a conspiracy? Why? To start a war? Give me a fucking break. The U.S. starts wars for no reason at all all the fucking time - orchestrating a huge conspiracy to justify it would just make the whole process needlessly complicated and be a huge waste of everyone's time. Only a knuckle-dragging pinhead would believe something like that, and only their ass-dwelling king would make yet another dumbass movie about it. If you ask me, Lou Grant should be ashamed of himself, but since he appeared in this fucking garbage he obviously has no shame, so a better option would be for him to have a stroke, and the sooner, the better. Fuck you, Lou Grant. And fuck this pile of crap.

----------
Want to know the truth about 9/11? Some terrorists did it. Now buy my books.

Time Machine 24: World War I Flying Ace, By Richard Mueller (1988)

Okay, this book is just like a Choose Your Own Adventure™©®™, except it looks like we might have a problem before the adventure even begins:

Are you kidding me? What's the point of going back in time if you're not allowed to kill anybody or freak out the primitive dipshits in, say, medieval times or the 1970s? Next they'll be telling us we shouldn't get drunk or tap any historical ass either. Fuck that. If you ask me, there's only three rules for going back in time and here they are:

1. Don't kill anybody with the same last name as you
2. If you do anything to change the past -- even just stepping on one butterfly in dinosaur times -- the Nazis will win the war
3. Back to the Future Part III sucked ass compared to the first two

So fucking lame.

Anyway, this book wants you to find out who shot down the Red Baron (I'm pretty sure it was Snoopy, but you know historians, they always want proof and shit). So fine, I'm going back in time to solve the mystery... (You'll have to imagine the colored lights, or do like I did and drop half a tab before you start reading.) Okay, first it says I can take a pocketknife or some matches with me. How about a gun, you fucking assholes? And why can't I take both? There's seriously no room in the time machine for a pocketknife and matches? You goddamned idiots. Fine, I'll take the knife. At least then I can stab somebody in the throat if I have to. So I'm making all these choices, blah blah blah... It looks like they're trying to sneak some learning in here too, so you might want to watch out for that... Hey, they're giving me the option to go to a pub! Now that's more like it - this time travel shit is thirsty business. Now I'm at the pub and... Holy piss! The fucking Nazis are bombing it! I thought you weren't supposed to bomb hospitals and pubs! War really is hell I guess. At any rate, I manage to survive the bombs and I keep making choices and... Holy shit! I won! And on the first try too! Ha ha ha ha! Bow before Mr. Satanism! You've been owned, World War Part 1! Before I throw this away though I need to flip through and tell you what the worst way you could die is... let's see... Hey - there's only one ending! And there's no way to lose or die! Are you fucking kidding me???? What the hell kind of Choose Your Own Adventure is this??? I'll bet you any amount of money and/or pussy that the people who came up with this were all "If kids lose they'll have low self-esteem, so we'll make every choice a winner!" You know why kids today are such goddamned pussies? Because of shit like this. Seriously, I think this book might just be the fucking epitome of weak. I'll tell you what time it is, Time Machine - it's time to pull your head out of your ass and suck my fucking balls. Then we'll see who has low self-esteem.

----------
This book sucks it. Read one of mine instead.

Stupid kids...

Christ, even kids this square should know that there's already a band called "Genesis". What a bunch of tools.

I'd totally fuck the brunette in the glasses though.

Conn's Vendor Training Video (2010)

"Conn's"? There's a great name for a business. Why don't you just call it "Ripoff's"? Anyway, when this sales chump training DVD found its into my hands, in all its Comic Sans-abusing glory, of course I didn't do what a normal person would do, i.e. throw it away or use it as a coaster. I decided to review the thing, and, big shocker, it's pretty damn boring. Mostly it just outlines the features of various doodads people might buy from "Conn's", like video cameras, HDTVs, wall mounts, refrigerators, paper-free handguns, and former milk carton children. (Ha ha! I'm totally kidding. Don't sue.) They even explain, to a degree, how some of this stuff actually works, which I also found boring because I'm an American and Americans don't care how things work, as long as they come with a large side of fries. I'm pretty sure Conn's understands this though, because they do pimp one of their refrigerators by pointing out that it will hold "up to eight more frozen pizzas":

That's right, eight. USA! USA!

One segment of this DVD did fill me with wall-punching, apartment deposit-forfeiting rage though: specifically, the one that explains to their sales proles how to aggressively nag people into buying an in-store extended warranty, which, as all non-morons know, is always, always, always a ripoff.

You scheming, gypsy, scumfuckers... I shouldn't have to pay an extra 400 dollars for your assurance that you're not selling me some broken piece of shit. Seriously, how did this even become a thing? I think the most infuriating part is when the narrator says this:

"It is your obligation to give the customer the opportunity to say no. If you choose not to present the repair service agreement, you are making the decision for the customer, a right you do not have."

Are you fucking kidding me? Like it's some First Amendment issue instead of a bullshit add-on designed solely to bone people out of their hard-earned money. Here's their little strategy to get you to buy this shit:

Well, Conn's, you have your strategy, and I have my counter-strategy that I use whenever some zit-faced minimum-wage commission monkey starts pushing an extended warranty on me:

1. Say "No."
2. Say "If I wanted you to fuck me up the ass, I'd bend over. Now shut your cockhole and ring up my goddamned purchase before I violate this store like I did your mom on prom night. And when I say 'this store', I don't mean the people inside it. I mean the actual building."
3. Walk away without buying anything, knocking multiple display cases over on the way out.
4. Lie like hell on Yelp.

You need to learn from all the Best Buys I've been thrown out of and rein in the badgering, Conn's, before the two of us have a serious problem. Don't say I didn't warn you.

----------
Buy my books! There's a new one coming very, very soon, even sooner than you did the night you lost your virginity. Watch for it.

505 Unbelievably Stupid Web Pages (2nd Edition), By Dan Crowley (2007)

Okay, before anyone asks the obvious question, no, my blog is not listed in this book. And fuck you.

Now that that's cleared up, let me start by saying that the cat who wrote this is a complete fucking tool. He isn't funny, he's more out-of-touch than your parents, and he seems to think that calling something weird when it's obviously meant to be weird is like this huge revelation and he's some sort of genius for pointing it out. Imagine a really square old dude making fun of "those crazy kids" and laughing at his own jokes while everyone else just stares at him because he doesn't have a fucking clue what he's talking about and you'll understand what reading this book is like. The first time my grandma surfed the Internet she sort of had this guy's attitude (except her comments were funnier), but she got over it after a day or so. Because she's not a goddamned idiot.

Don't take my word for it though. Let's check out some of Dan Crowley's brilliant observations:

This site is extremely stupid...

This site is so stupid...

I am very confused about this one. That makes it stupid in my opinion.

These videos are stupid...

Tomatoes are stupid.

Wow, what wordplay. What insight. Look out, Mark Twain!

As if his cretinous, obvious comments aren't enough, he also rates every website for "abnormality", "stupidity", and "entertainment", not that his ratings are consistent or have any meaning whatsoever. Like, how is a site that tells you what your phone number spells (which could actually be useful if you wanted to request the number BIG-DICK or something) "stupider" than a site that claims Santa Claus is the Devil? Seriously, Crowley, you fucking suck. I think I'm going to borrow your rating system to rate your book:

ABNORMALITY: 3    STUPIDITY: 10    ENTERTAINMENT: 0

Do the world a favor and never write anything again. Unless it's a suicide note.

----------
Want to read a book that doesn't suck shit? Consider one of mine.

Ask the Answer Man!

There was no internet in the 1970s, so if you wanted to know what Batman's middle name was or how many times Superman had faked out Lois Lane after promising to marry her, your only choice was to buy every DC comic book ever made until you found the answer. Actually, there was one other option: you could "Ask the Answer Man". The Answer Man was this amazing cat who knew everything about DC comics, and every month he would answer any question about them that you sent in, no matter how obscure or ridiculous. Here's some 100% real examples I took from a bunch of old DC comics I keep in the bathroom:

Q: How much is BATMAN FAMILY #13 worth?--Todd Goode. A: 25¢ in good condition.

Q: How much is OUR ARMY AT WAR #202 worth?--Parky Farmer. A: 30¢ in good condition.

Q: How much is DETECTIVE COMICS #359 worth?--Mike Roche. A: In good condition, 30¢.

Q: How much are DC COMICS PRESENTS #'s 1 and 2 worth?--Scott Smith. A: 20¢ each in good condition.

Q: How much is BATMAN FAMILY #3 worth?--Greg Wong. A: 30¢ in good condition.

Q: How much is LOIS LANE #112 worth?--Greg Wong. A: 20¢ in good condition.

Huh. Well, irregardless, the Answer Man was still pretty cool. I guess.

----------
The 100 Best Movies Ever Made... Mostly Suck. And here's the proof.

The Falling (1985)

Hey, it's Bibi from For Your Eyes Only! You may remember her as the only Bond girl James Bond ever refused to fuck, even though she's deliriously fine, and even though he dipped James Bond Jr. in friggin' Grace Jones just two movies later. On purpose. I swear, he must have been in the middle of a particularly vicious feud with his own penis or something.

In this flick Bibi and her two friends get stranded in a town full of alien parasites that spread by spewing, and once you're infected you go slowly insane until the fully-grown alien finally explodes out of your face. That's all good stuff, but there's just way too much dead time between the cool parts; they could've easily tripled the number of crazy person encounters, alien attacks, and exploding faces and this movie still wouldn't be anywhere near out of control. The little alien monsters are super cool and Bibi's bod is super molestable, so if you can live with the fact that we don't see enough of either one of them I suppose this movie is worth checking out. I wouldn't bother adding it to your bridal registry or anything though.

----------
Click here to buy my book on Lifetime movies, so I can eat.

Maddox was right

Saw this child's painting displayed in a public building the other day. It's called "Traditions". Apparently, their family tradition is pissing in the river. And it looks like junior has a bit of a bladder infection there. Acceptable composition for a third grader, but the subject matter is completely inappropriate. F.

Exercise Break with... The Avenging Apes of Africa (2005)

Wow. Even for Christian television, this is a new low.

----------
Help fight Christian television like this by reading my books. Here's one.

The Dunwich Horror (2009)

You know, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we've had our fill of H. P. Lovecraft movies. Why doesn't anyone ever make an Algernon Blackwood movie? Or a William Hope Hodgson movie? Honestly, can't someone show a little imagination once in a while? This disaster begins with a ridiculous "She's Having My Monster" scene, followed by an exorcism. The exorcism sequence is actually kinda cool at first, but then they find the source of the demon's power hidden under the floorboards and are you fucking kidding me it's a goddamned Tomy Pyraminx:

Oh, they peeled all the stickers off, and painted some goofy symbols on it, but that's what it is all right. Stupid assholes. It would be embarrassing enough if we saw it just the once, but they keep harping on the damn thing, and it gets more laughable by the second. The best is when the two exorcists take it to a third guy to add to, quote-unquote, "the collection". I'm sure it'll look lovely on his mantle, right next to these:

Ha ha ha! What a fucking joke. To make things worse, it's right about this time I noticed that every once in a while the picture would start skipping and jumping and randomly fading to black and shit. At first I thought there was something wrong with my television, but nope, it's all on purpose, I guess to make the movie as annoying and unpleasant to watch as possible. Well, mission accomplished, idiots.