Review: Hearing

Saying Man: "I'm for abortion"

Bad Hearer: "You've had four abortions?"

Saying Man: "That was actually close- your hearing isn't all that bad"

Bad Hearer: "You were wondering if Glenn Close, while teething, is really your dad?"

Saying Man: "This can only go on for about 2 more lines before it gets old"

Bad Hearer: "Juniper square bush helicopters are transferable in warm climates, strange motivator?"

Saying Man: "Shave and a haircut"

Bad Hearer: "Tube hits? What?"

Saying Man: "Alright, you're just fucking with me, I know you have some hearing problems, but they seem greatly exaggerated for effect."

Bad Hearer: "Sorry, I can't really hear you, I was just fucking with you before, but sometimes my hearing goes bad when I sense annoyance. Now tell me about your 3rd abortion."

Review: Rugrats, Season 1, Episode 11

Rugrats existed as a novelty show, because a show about Babies has never been done before. The first season meandered its merry way, being cute and depending upon putting babies in unfamiliar places ie a movie theater or a grocery store. It wasn't until the 11th episode of the first season, that a stride was hit. A perfect storm of all the things that made Rugrats a plaintive character study of innocent eyes viewing a world full of plans laid before them.

The 11th episode featured the 2 stories: "Touchdown Tommy" and "The Trial". Later years of Rugrats we go to see the stretch of each of the characters, and both these episodes give us the glimpses of that full effect.

'Touchdown Tommy' has the babies in helmets as means to protect themselves so that their fathers can watch football. Tommy, being reasonably the favorite baby, is given chocolate milk, and while the babies are left alone- an ensuing brawl for that chocolate milk ensues. The brawl is instigated by, as all great Rugrats episodes are instigated by, Angelica. Angelica starts off badmouthing her current situation of wearing a "stupid baby helmet", then as Phil and Lil discover the benefits of headstanding in the helmets- Angelica shows off her 2 plus years experience in headstanding, and when the chocolate milk finally shows up- Angelica goes in pure selfish mode, storming Tommy for the bottle. The babies shenanigans are wonderfully play-by-played by the football announcers commenting on the 'Ultra Bowl' the fathers are watching (one of the announcers played by pre-fame Jeremy Piven). Wonderful specifics of each players names, Tommy being a ring-leader, Phil and Lil being little rough housers, and Angelica exerting her force over the much smaller babies- all are shown here.

Then comes 'The Trial'. A crowning moment in Rugrats lore. All the character traits are exhibited here. Tommy's Clown Lamp is broken, therefore we see him cry, and now we relate and feel sorry for him. Who broke the lamp? Phil and Lil act as the usual suspects- being the ones to always play to fast and too eager. But they wouldn't break Tommy's lamp. Chuckie admits to wanting to break Tommy's lamp because it is scary, and Chuckie, as we finally see, is afraid. The Rugrats didn't use Chuckie's fears too much coming into this episode. Chuckie was just the reluctant one to go along with Tommy. Now we see, and are set up for, a motherless child- already with an eye problem- afraid of the world around him. And who can blame him? He was attacked by a monster in this episode, and then badgered into admitting he wanted to break the lamp. But he didn't. He's Tommy's best friend. So of course we know who broke the lamp. The Great Instigator- Angelica. First off, lets note, it is a superb bit of story that Angelica is Tommy's cousin. We get to see her all the time, and we see that she does not care about these babies at all. She is just a selfish terrible toddler, picking on weak underlings. "The Trial" is Angelica at her instigatoriest. She sets up the trial, using her know how and wit, to paint a picture of her innocence. The babies know nothing, and Angelica knows more than nothing, and she adeptly pulls the blankets over their eyes. Until, Tommy uses reason. When Angelica is accused- does she back down? No- she admits to it, because they are babies. Her gloating is her downfall, because the adults eventual hear her, but Angelica gives us a small look into her mind during her confession. She was annoyed Phil and Lil didn't ask her to play their stupid baby game, she knew how easy it is to scare Chuckie, and when she saw the lamp- she had the urge to smash it. What a dark child. 'The Trial" had some great baby gags in mispronouncing words. Poop-etrator, The Jerky (The jury? NO- The Jerky!), and "you promise to tell the ruth, the whole ruth, and nothing but the ruth so help your Bob?"

The Rugrats is a special show in that it took (really now) a stupid idea and made it work. The animation in the first season was a little rough and sometimes inconsistent, but the 2nd season- bolder outlines and softer colors were established. The music is top notch, and sometimes outshines the entire show. The voice-over acting is deftly underrated as well. But starting with this 11th (out of 13) episode of the 1st season, the characters take center stage allowing the gags and story to proceed naturally. The end results were a well-rounded kids show with enough poignancy for adults. Sure the welcome was eventual out-stayed after season 4, and then the legacy tarnished by a movie where they go to Paris ad a movie where they meet another cartoon, but they had to build up to the point in order to jump that shark. So don't forget about Rugrats, before the other baby was born, and the animation changed to make Tommy's eyes too big.

Review: Watching People Eat: @Domino's

Firstly, I didn't even know we could eat at the Domino's. I knew they had a table, but I just assumed it was for people waiting for pick-up to sit at and wonder if they actually have a rest room to use. But now I see it. Why else would they have a table at a restaurant? Life makes so much sense now, for here we see a overweight woman wearing a stained/stretched 2002 Three Rivers Regatta Shirt complemented by black (sweat?) pants, with her daughter- a cannonball of a 6 year old- who has hair designed such as a crow would design a nest.

What are they dining on at this fine establishment at Domino's (who was gracious enough to slide a bounty of coupons under my door, so now I can pay 13 dollars and have enough food for 2 stoned meals)? Oh, looks like they are splitting a personal pan pizza. A personal pan pizza of 4 small slices. Between the, yes I'll say it, obviously wanting more mother and the ever growing child. Welcome to the saddest story ever.

Are they eating at this Domino's because this is their day out? God I hope not. Are they eating at the Domino's because they have no where else to go? That's an even worse option. There are no non-sad options of why this family of 2 would be eating at this Domino's. There is no wait staff. You pick up your food at the counter, where you also have to ask them for shake jars of pepper or cheese. There are 3 tables here.- two booth, and a two-seat table they are occupying. The only un-sad option is for them to try and evoke sympathy from Domino's patrons, such as myself, who have ordered way more than they need. But then that would be menacing of them, which is also sad that they are any degree of menace- because look where that got them in life!

"Momma, I'm still hungry," bemoans the daughter, licking the sauce and the stick cheese off the small container the personal pan pizza came in.

"Quiet and drink the Mountain Dew," the mother smacks back. The depressing duo have also split a small Mountain Dew, the saddest of all carbonated beverages.

The daughter sucks the straw only to hear the fatal slurps of dryness associated with empty cups.

I can't eat Domino' anymore. Not only because it is Domino's and why would I eat it in the first-place. But for the fact that it is Domino's, and shitty people fell for their shitty advertising and can only scrounge up enough money for their shitty smallest size of pizza. World, should I thank you from saving me from ever eating Domino's? Or should I actually feel human suffering, and make it so the world is a better place, albeit with better quality pizza, or equally as shitty pizza but costing less? Life, right?

Review: "Who Killed Who" (1943)

Cartooning is next to godliness. Cartoons are excuses to exaggerate real world appendages and conventions in order to make them a vision of an over-the-top director. As a fan of the medium, I feel obliged to shine a light on one of the true visionary director's- Tex Avery and one of his fine works- "Who Killed Who"

This was 1943. Let that really sink in. This was a time where movie violence was over acting. The realm of physics and believability in cartoons was pioneered by the likes of Tex Avery. Small jokes such as the victim reading the book "Who Killed Who (based on the cartoon of the same name)", and the inspector, rather than tip toeing over to be sneaking, extending one leg across the room on a tip toe and then the other leg reeling itself is a visual gag many have copied since then. Sure there were many of these jokes in existence before, but to the level of exaggeration and the rapid pace? It all makes sense in Avery's flow. The inspector asking for all the weapons on the table- lights off. Lights on- we see a giant stack of guns. Lights off- the complete room is now empty, with dust outlines from picture frames and all. Just that little extra bit. Just the pure genius of the line "At the sound of the gun- it will be midnight" and bang the victim is dead! The storyboard of these cartoon are so precise and so well timed that not a second goes by without a build up or gag. Sure this cartoon doesn't ring as loudly as it did in the 1940s (what could?), but there still is a bit of a thud in scenes of a man trying to look behind his back as to have both pupils in the corner of one eye or 17 dead bodies falling out a door (one of them pausing to break the action and call out the gag itself). Then you have Santa for no reason. The story stays true to itself as the entire last third of the film is chasing the masked killer. Grounded in realism- punctuated by absurdity.

So I'm imploring you- don't view this as something to make you laugh. Our generation's cartoon pool is deluded too much for this offer sincere guffaws. Rather look at these as timeless pieces of art, and a important piece to the puzzle of outward thinking. Breaking the 4th wall, rhetorical questions to the audience, the believability of inconsistency, and having a non sequita, non animated conclusion- all these things are thrown at you, and all are within question. This is a plea for reverence. Back in 1943, this was your Dr. Steve Brule, your Andy Kaufman, your Lenny Bruce. See where cartoons are at today and go out and find cartoons that are still true to the spirit of anarchy and urgency of change. This is a plea for respect- Tex Avery and cartoons such as Who Killed Who broke out of complacency, and charted their own territory of what can be possible. This is a plea for a return- do studios eve care what they put out anymore? I get that bottom line is money, but can they get that they can make the future happen? I'm off on a tangent here. Please watch the cartoon. Please watch any Droopy or Screwy Squirrel cartoon. Tex Avery also defined Bugs Bunny in "A Wild Hare". Done now? Done now.

Review: Trying

Trying is the simplest thing someone can do, which makes it pretty complicated when thinking about it. Trying is part doing, while doing has some inherit trying aspect to it. Should trying come naturally, but is that trying when it does? Trying is fun when it comes to new things, but trying something well worn and familiar- that's doing. You try when you do. If you're better than that than you do when you try. Trying too hard only sometimes impresses people. People beg to be impressed, but really on their own terms that you don't know about. So try. Trying is all anyone can do ever. That's pretty sad.

Trying is the most complicated thing someone can do, which makes it pretty simple when having to do something about it. Doing is mostly trying, while trying has some inherit doing to it. Doing should come naturally, and that is what doing tries to be- natural. doing new things isn't fun, but doing old things you are comfortable in is. Trying haphazardly really impresses no one. People beg to be impressed, but really you should worry about yourself. So try. Trying is all anyone can ever do. Don't take that for granted, trying can lead to salvation.

This blog has lived in that overlap between trying and doing for too long. RE: blog equals I. Time to do something about and time to try something about it. Ya know, for a 70 inch millipede, I'm not so bad.

Review: Nothing

See? Nothing sucks. You suck, Nothing.

Review: Shaving Upside Down

Curiosity gets the best of us. Because curiosity is the best. How else would we find out where milk came from? How else would we kill cats? In the spirit of cur-e-os-e-ti (which is curiosity for men*): Try shaving upside down.

It is pretty easy. It is just pulling up where I once pulled down and pull-ups where once downies where once standard. It's like opposite shave day but still efficient. Now if only my strokes weren't so haphazard from my head being so light from all this blood being rushed there. I think the blood coming out of my cuts is evening it out. But then the blood then runs into my nose and eyes.

* Women can shave upside down all they want it really doesn't make a difference. Men shave like men. In areas where the stakes are higher (excluding vaginas). With razors that have names that end in O and come in black or stale yellow. We also have less grips.

Review: Woody

Badass is defined (by myself) as the relentless being of one's self regardless of popular demand or evolutionary change. An example that I use (by myself) on this blog is Dwight Schrute. While Dwight is on TV and his characteristics are hilariously flawed, the man does not change. Best movie example: Jeffry Lebowski aka The Dude. The Dude owed much of his prompt and prestige in referential terms to old Western movies. In fact, applying 'badass' to movies usually means a gruff, take no shit style derived from the John Waynes, Clint Eastwood, and the wildest of Bill Elliots. So now in 2010, amidst pretty much a lackluster summer of movies while movies are the cash crop of current America economics, it took another badass cowboy to save the day. Err, summer.

Woody, without going into his past life on Woody's Round-up, is likely the biggest bad-ass in children's movie history. He also uses his bad-ass-ed-ness-itude for good. What makes Woody so bad-ass is not just doing good by way of his friends, but his unrelenting nature in doing so. In Toy Story 1, Woody, thought to be a turncoat by all the other toys, rushes the moving van and throws RC racer to the street in order to save Buzz from being left behind. He gets tossed over for his troubles but still- that's pretty bad ass to just show up to a whole bunch of people who are pissed at you and expect them to trust you. In Toy Story 2- Woody rides Bullseye onto a moving plane to rummage through the luggage in order to find new friend Jessie. Sure he got caught up in his nostalgia and legend, but shaking that off fame and legacy because you know you have a much stronger love in your life to an extent that you convice strangers to follow you? Hella bad ass. He's Woody- he loves Andy so much that everyone knows that this link to a picture exists. Now let me get to Toy Story 3- where Woody has gone through the ringer of new Toy syndrome and his actual value, and is now faced with a grown-up Andy.

SPOILERS

Woody in Toy Story 3 is nothing short of pure bad-ass. He gets the dream job of being the only toy Andy has kept. But still out of loyalty to Andy and to his friends- risks that cushy job to rescue them from the garbage, then does a series of difficult escapes, only to ultimately go back for his friend's because he knows what is right and what is best, even in the face of grave danger and imminent doom. To admit something now: AGAIN HUGE SPOILER: the toys in the incinerator, holding hands- cut to Woody still struggling for freedom and then realizing that this is the end. Wow. I cried. Damn did I cryIn fact- Toy Story 3 is basically Woody knowing what he knows, standing pat in it, and rescuing people countless times. Until the final moments where it is about Woody truly being Woody and letting those emotions define him.

In fact, that is what makes Woody a different kind of bad-ass altogether- his emotion. Though it never really gets the best of him, he lets those emotions show. Showing those emotions is what made Toy Story a renaissance in animation history. Woody isn't governed by these emotions, rather he takes them on. Unlike any other cowboy in movie history- Woody would proudly admit to a snake being in his boot. Woody symbolizes loyalty and class. He also symbolizes toy cowboys and about a billion dollar revenue. Which is more badass than anything because everyone loves him still.

Review: Nervous Valedictorian Speech

As I stand here, throwing up, I can't help but notice out of the periphery of my eyes that all you people- past the disgusted faces and nauseous reflexes- are happy. Happy to be here. Happy to see me puke out my lunch and breakfast and snacks I had in between. You are here, comfortable with yourselves, in the midst of all this chaos flowing like a soupy waterfall out my mouth, and you can't take that away from yourself. You feel shame for me. You feel anger towards me. You feel jealous of me. But you feel. And isn't that the most important part? While we-- hwaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaa. UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH---- excuse me- While we are in our- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Man, a lot came out that time. I'm being waved off? But I- EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAGGGGG.

Oh be careful. You might slip on it. I feel dangerously light, oh right, my speech--- Remember fellow classmates, that I did not puke today, but that we- we Gary Larson Senior High School for the Ulterior Motivtated Class of 2010- we were bonded by my puking. I have more written down, but the sun is setting on my vomit and it smells awful all around me.

Top Ten Reasons Why Ten is a Good Number for a List of Reasons

10. Having a one followed by a zero, gives the illusion of Laurel and Hardy- who everyone still enjoys

9. Look at your fingers, stupid

8. It worked for Moses, er, God, er Julia Styles hating you

7. It's easy to remember 5 things, sure, 7- you're pretty smart, but 10? Well, now we know we can fuck with you

6. the T sound followed by a crisp N prevents a myriad of saliva from forming

5. the first two digit number is the best two digit number all you other two digit numbers are doped up on crack so step off other two digit numbers or I'll shove this crane up your ass

4. I know several viking warlords named 'Ten' who I owe several favors to

3. Top Ten has a T-vowel-letter pattern

2. Herman Melville once wrote, "The eye of the seas, sit stark underneath, an ever diabolical flow- for nine men to have rued, while other men stood, another would have got her to show." He died searching for the best number for a list, getting all the way up to 8 before collapsing. His journey wasn't in vain because his brother's son died testing out the merits of a list of 9- thus inspiring some random women who slightly resembled Melville's left facial profile in certain lights to make it all the way to ten in a perfect harmony of listomania (inspiring Liztomania). Unfortunately, she wasn't taken seriously until years after her death because she was a woman.

1. ten reasons diludes the pool so much that the actual number one reason is arguably the best reason, thereby making it super easy to make a list with no merit to it whatsoever

Review: Sticking one's penis in a Jalousie Window

Was it the glass? You can close your penis on anything, but why a jalousie window? Closing it too tightly could cause permanent damage. Depending what part of the penis you stuck in. The tip- that's just pure pain, a lot of sensitivity on ye old tip. The balls- that would be fine at first, but they are the mostly likely part of the penis to get stuck. That's a fool's game. The whole thing- well you are in it to win it. Start at the bottom slit, and work your way up. See if you can in any way make a 360 degree rotation. Get a ring around it.

Did you just want to see our penis smashed, or more accurately- smushed? That's dumb- you could've just put it in a shot glass (penis too big? McDonald's Commerative batman forever commerative glasses). Or put a camera inside your dad's mouth. That was to imply your dad sucks your dick.

Listen- we all want to stick our penis in things. It's called 'living to tell about it' and it really only impresses who also have stuck their dicks in things. So to everyone with a dick (mostly guys, certain 'girls'),- it's pronounced- jah-LOO-z.

Review: being a Muppet

Who told us Muppet Christmas was the same as Human Christmas, when we don't even call it Human Christmas but just Christmas? It's not the togetherness in their muppetness that irks me, it's that you have to be born into being a muppet. They have privilege in their existence.

There is definite pride in being a muppet, in knowing that you have credibly over regular puppets, so much so that you are considered different and are considered an art form. There is definite despair in being a muppet, in that we expect too much from you. As the example for other puppets, how high are your goals set? To be blazing that path for all others in your genre to rip off or do slightly different?

You had a hey day, sold it out to Hollywood, and are using the internet and nostalgia as a comeback. If that's the format you've done a quality job in laying low for some time now. But what about the puppet industry in your wake? What was there? Allegra's Window? Goodness nows anything Christian was nowhere near your standards. In establishing yourselves as being a special entity, we can see- you are not special. You are every other franchise of pop culture. But you did it as puppets, and that's the burden you have to live with.

Which isn't a burden at all. There is love amongst you. The love that exists in just seeing a puppet. You've been getting by on your Sesame Street good will for so long, that Sesame Street is its own separate thing, quite bigger than you. Which you're fine with and that's good. You're happy for them. I just want you to restore a prominence that was once immeasurable.

*note this article was plagiarized by switching out the word Barack Obama for Muppets, and Puppets for Black People... also other things were changed.

Review: World Cup

What- was the name Earth Thermos taken?

See- that joke doesn't work. They took the best name for our planet and the best name of something we drink out of. Globe Glass? Close, but not even a cigarette. World Cup is the best name for Trophy with a top to drink out of and it is applied to soccer.

That is out success as Americans... letting this one go. Letting that great name be applied to a world sport, rather than to one of our own. Sure we have some soccer fans here in the States, but they are weird (ie Drew Carey). Weird in that they like something else. Soccer is the anchovies and pineapple to Football's pepperoni and extra cheese. It's for people who love sports so much that they love soccer. That's not a creative way of stating things, but hell is it true. I like sports but here are all the soccer players I can name: David Beckham, Freddy Adu, Alexei Lalas, Zindane, Ronaldo, Mary Donna, Tim who I went to high school with, Steve Nash, Soccer, Lisa Simpson, Bart Simpson, Patrick Renna and Chauncey Leopardi in a cow field, Hollister Athletics, South Africa, Sport Goofy, Woody Harrelson recently, Pay Lay and his co-stars in Victory (which they fought Nazis with Michael Caine and I forget which side Slyvester Stallone was on but he was a goalie), Will Ferrell's son, Air Bud's sons, Keira Knightley Bending, I was recommended a Stephen Chow movie about it, Charles Miner... I did pretty good at the beginning.

I don't care about World Cup, but I care that I don't care. Caring about World Cup is like caring about a loved one: I don't blame you. In fact, I encourage you. I would say 'better you than me' but that doesn't apply to caring about a loved one. So I'll say: "Sure looks good on a resume". Because this is the biggest sport in the world, and I'd rather be blind to its madness then to learn something new. Mostly because I have at least 2 more NBA Finals games and a draft to worry about. Which makes me ignorant, which is the nature of rooting for sport. I touched on something here, but I don't want to discourage anyone from anything notably myself. Go Caleb!

Review: Hanson Fans

For all that's been said, but namely for all that's been done- there still exists Hanson fans. These people are the epitome of contradiction in that- they are to be applauded for their loyalty to something they should've grown out of years ago, while still drenched in the obliviousness that everyone is making fun of them for being a fan of something that shouldn't exist anymore.

Their argument is to judge the source material, and that I haven't given it a chance. "They've really matured since when they were popular" the argument goes. Yes- yes I believe that teenagers have matured. That is an 'of course they have'. If they didn't then you still wouldn't be a fan of them, and that's why I give you some credit. You have credit because you are a functioning human. But really now: You fell for it. Just because they try harder, which is a product of maturity, and are still doing it, be it slightly less derivative, does not make it good. My argument is that the music isn't good. Which, within Hanson fan, lumps me into 'just not getting it'.

Not getting it is totally fine when it comes to a band who I thought was pure marketing when I was still capable of being marketed to. I once heard a girl say, in a backhanded catty fashion, in reference to a Hanson- "Look at her, she got her hair cut like Zach's. She's just trying to make us jealous." Which is worse- wanting to look like a boy you have a crush on to impress girls or having been impressed by such that deed? So, yeah, that's an anecdote. An anecdote of why I won't and can't like Hanson. There are road blocks I gladly leave up. My foundation is firmly planted in another camp mainly because I was a boy when they were at the height of their popular.

But you still like them. Some of you. They still put out albums that bank off their name recognition and nostalgia. But you think they don't because 'you get it'. Because your foundation is entirely different from mine. If you look around, you'd be in the minority. Which is even more comforting to you because it makes you feel special that you still like them while others don't see what you think is so special. It's called selective marketing. It doesn't make you special, just designed to make you think you are. Which hopefully works because you need it because you fall for it. It's a catch-22. And I'm saying you only because I am mean and you wouldn't recognize the shame if I didn't. So in your defense- don't take me seriously, I switch tenses. I clearly don't get Hanson. And they played at Conan's Legally Prohibihibited From Being On Television Tour. And the rest of my entries are stupid and don't make sense. And Hanson's new album came out Tuesday which makes me capitalizing on them. No it doesn't .

Review: Time Allotment

I have about 20 minutes to write each entry on a busy day. On non-busy days I have about an hour before I get depressed with myself for writing too long and hurry up and end it. Now, in the grand tradition of meta-writing dumb reviews where as I reference me writing, I must say time allotment is one of the most important aspects to my writing. I don't if it is better or not to have a bunch of time. One hand of little time breathes more impulse and fever. Tons o' time gives me the oppurtunity to spell check (see what I did there? no? Oh, I misspelled opportunity.)

Time Allotment has wreaked its havoc (havoc all up in 'em) on many an established institution. For examples- museums close. Ha. Better example- the syndication of The Simpsons, where the cut out many a non-sequitar gag for time. Sideshow Bob and his epic battle with rakes is drastically cut to a point of gross incompetence of humor. I Love Lucy used to air on Nick at Nite with great foofarah and vigor, but once commercials needed more time to make other commercials look bad, they would cut scenes short and cut out before the laugh track even started. After those 3 examples, you can clearly see that everyone who has ever existed is effected by time allotment.

But who do we blame for time and its alloted amount? Ourselves? No- we are humans who do what we do regardless of doing is an actual thing. The sun? Sure, that's a start. But it technically didn't do anything, the earth is the one who rotates. I blame a combination of the Roman Empire and Ben Franklin. They were the ones 'smart' enough to put a label on things in order make life more organized, and thereby, through looking nothing up whatsoever, these two ding dongs invented a time system proved to be timeless. The are too blame when you see the roller coaster line says 'Hour and a Half Wait'. They are to blame for waking up in the morning. That's stretching it, but I am forced to stretch it since I have a certain time allotted to writing this entry. Which should be pretty soon depending upon how many interesting articles are on Gawker. Based on your opinion of Gawker- that was a clever dig or a well earned kudos.

In summation: when it comes to Time Allotment- "Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future" or "I just want to take it nice and slow (nowbabytellmewhatyouwanttodo)", either way- thanks for wasting yours here at Dumb Reviews.

Review: Where to have the School Dance

Using the string of lights with each bulb wrapped in a blue cellophane to keep with the theme of blue, the class Vice President declared, "See these totally complement the shine off the cafeteria floor."

"But we always have our dances in the gym. A lot of our fellow students use the bleachers to socialize. Plus, the ladder is already in the gym," said the class treasurer. Her desire to overtake anything the Vice President said was not out of any power struggle within class politics, but a matter of making him think she was smart. She was, after all, only treasurer because the other student who she ran against's brother started hanging out with the kid who was too into Avatar. Everyone in school saw the movie sure, but that kid bragged about it too much. "The gym gets darker and therefore these blue lights will seem bluer there."

"The cafeteria does have nicer restrooms."

"But the gym has more stalls."

"Please," the class President calmly stood up drawing attention to himself. He was the one who came up with the Blue theme, and his words always rang with resonance. "The gym provides more emergency exits." The vice president was visibly choked and muttered for something to say but the President continued. "We don't want to take down all those posters in the cafeteria." He moved his bangs out of his eyes. "We'd have to put them up again."

He wasn't a jock, but he bought them drugs. He's not a geek, but he talks to them at least. He's not a stoner, but he treats them with respect and reverence. He barely won the election. The popular kid had too much resentment, and the suck-up kid had too many mutual friends with the popular kid. The deciding factor was the band geeks. They voted for him because his sister was in band. He also bought drugs from some of them. He didn't realize he had the respect of the rest of the student government members. What they didn't realize is that he has never been to a school dance before.

"Fine," the vice president scoffed. He got up from his desk. "But I'm still going to jack off in the cafeteria tonight."

"Oh, so it is true!" The President had never been excited by a school dance before. He hated most of his classmates, but craved their acceptance. A chance to see their penises would make him feel better he thought. "Chad Fraley told me a lot of guys masturbate at dances and pay Gloria Jenerfargmerk to eat it."

"She only did that once," The treasurer ascertained. "Now all the girls do it. We compare prices at the end of the dance."

"Yeah, I don't want to masturbate where we eat, and I get boners in gym class all the time."

"Yeah I guess you're right."

"Hey guys," the treasurer again trying to impress her fellow students. "We should tell the janitor to stock up on extra toilet paper in the boys room- you know- to masturbate into!"

"Hey, how do we get boners at school dances anyway?" The president seemed distant now. The truth about dances proved to be to big for him to handle. He needed to pick it apart. "Don't we just listen to shitty music and the girls stand in a corner and then people who are dating dance awkwardly?"

The room looked at him. The president stepped into something bigger than him. In his quest for being alternative, he never once thought of himself to stop and smell the proverbial roses. Everyone was masturbating in public but him and he was afraid. He contemplated his next move.

"We can have both the cafeteria and the gym open for the dance. We can use all the bathrooms that way, and the girls can spread out more so there isn't one set area for them to eat our cum. The higher priced ones can be in the cafeteria, while the gym can be opened for more bargaining- you know- eating pubes or letting us videotape it?"

That night, six teachers, stoned off their asses, filmed the biggest black market porno. They each split the $555,000 dollars and decreed all dances needed the cafeteria to let the students roam about.

Review: Friendship

"Why isn't this moon bounce working? We're just standing here dammit!"

"I dunno"

"Jesus, why do I even hang out with you? You're only 8 and you never do anything."

"I'm sorry"

"I guess we give and take, huh? You need someone to go see R rated movies with, and I need some kid to keep me in the know with what's cool with you kids so that I can relate to my daughter. Also you let me make long thoughts, and are interchangeable with many different kids, so I can't grow tired of you, I just forget you exist. Did we bounce yet?"

"I bounced"

"hmm. Well, you're great practice, I don't want to mess up my daughter's life. My plan is to get all the bad decision out on you. That's why I take you to cemeteries, constantly mask you, and make you take bumper stickers off cars for me. These are all the fun things I do, that I question would be fun for my daughter"

"I like fun"

"Also, since we started hanging out, I also can talk to your mother about parenting. It's good to have another parent to discuss how to raise a kid with, you know? Plus I'm fucking her. That's part of the reason why I don't respect you. That and you're 8."

"I like being around you"

"I'm not you dad or nothing. We're just friends. I take money out of your college fund when I need it and you eat the yellow skittles I don't like. We're a good team that way. Now, tell me, which one is my daughter again?"

"That one"

"The fat one? Eh. Tell we're leaving... nah- show her your penis and scream 'Daddy knows what you did!', then I'm going to punch you in the spine and yell at her for looking at your penis. I think that will give her something to write about in her journal. Her entries recently have been bor-ing."

"Can we get pizza later?"

"I'm getting pizza later, you have to ask your mom. Ah, shit, here come the cops again- HEY WE'RE FRIENDS. WE HANG OUT CUZ WE'RE FRIENDS, alright... jesus kid yell at the cops with me. Yell I don't touch you or nothing, and make it seem like I didn't put it up to you and that you know where your real parents are."

Review: Facebook: Movies: The Ninth Configuration

Previously and sleevelessly I discussed the merits of adding a new movie to one's facebook movie profile listing. Now I present the conundrum of adding a old movie. An old cult movie. An old cult movie that already has a fervent fan base but has not yet accrued annoyingly die hard fans (much like Die Hard fans).

So, not only does The Ninth Configuration have an eye-popping title that'll be the talk of your facebook favorite movies, it also has a bunch of credibility based on being an awesome movie. Non-sequitur comical farce? Check. The examination and questioning of faith and of one's god? Chuck. Blackface, violence, and Stacy Keach acting circles around? Chick, chack, chock. The Ninth Configuration was William Peter Blatty's follow-up to The Exorcist, and he still touches on unknown, mysterious, life-beyond. But with The Ninth Configuration he just makes the first half of the movie as funny as the plot deems- new psychologist in a castle full of ex marines trying to figure out who is crazy and who is faking it to get out of battle. Then there's a turning point. A good turning point, a strong turning point your mother would love and ask you to invite over more, and always ask you about. She would always wash her hands and come into the living room when this turning point would come over.

Big butt but, how pretentious is it to like a movie from 1980 after only seeing it once? Maybe it is more pretentious to worry about it? Maybe it is more pretentious to blog about it. Blogs are redundant like that. No, but my point is: I saw this movie once, and loved it. Other movies in my Facebook profile movie list I have all seen multiple times, and have an emotional attachment to and therefore feel justified in saying they are my favorite. I already watched Ninth Configuration and in means of moderation, won't feel like watching so for another 2 to 3 months? Maybe if I said a definite 2 months with plans to watch it, I would put it in my Facebook favorite movies- but I said 2 to 3.

So basically, this blog post is self serving as reminder for me to watch Ninth Configuration again, and once done so- to put it in my favorite movies on Facebook. Also you should watch it. Also you should take out some movies in your Facebook profile. You know which ones. Its a truth contest, not cool profile contest, isn't it? Am I using Facebook right? (no I am not)

Review: Pinkberry

So ends the week that was Novelty Ice Cream Week at Dumb Reviews. I forgot to make a reference to Wayne Arnold yesterday (no one picked up on that) but I am not about consistency here. In fact, this last entry isn't even about Ice Cream- it's about Frozen Yogurt- still a novelty nonetheless.

People love ice cream. People love getting older (they love accepting the inevitablityness of it anyway). People love thinking they are eating healthy. People love being cool. Most importantly- everyone who has ever existed's favorite food is Toppings.

Enter Pinkberry- non fat Frozen Yogurt with the hip font and store front. They charge a lot for yogurt, but oh my gosh is it cool to eat it. Literally, figuratively, intuitively, cunningly, dastardly, haphazardly, hobo-baloney. It's something cold and like ice cream, but with a more mature taste. Slap some faux-health concerns on it- and we have a monster at hand.

And then we have the toppings. Toppings as many as fit the cup. If we're smart, and we aren't, we stick to their fresh fruit. Which are chunks of fruit. Which are packaged fresh. And they have Kiwi so it sounds like they have a lot of different kinds, but not really. They do have quite a number of toppings, but putting anything on anything is a topping, and Pinkberry knows that and Pinkberry tries that.

Is this a positive review for Pinkberry? Probably. I like it. I think Pinkberry is way ahead of itself though. Meaning: they are making money off of paying their workers poorly and giving them too much to do. I would hate to work in a place like that. That meaning a place where the clientele are people who eat Pinkberry. Pinkberry is still a minimum wage, slave work job, but they cater to yuppies and people who like being called Manhattenites. That's ahead of yourself. Putting snobby people in front of your wet behind the ears employees. Dry their ears. Give them more meaningful work, by which I mean pay them more. They're serving yogurt in a line and helping picky eaters pick toppings for less than they should an hour.

So is this a negative review for Pinkberry? Probably. They do play 'indie' music and sell wacky things on their shelves. But image is perception, and everything is worse than it appears. Most of the time. This blog is a novel idea, but have you read this shit? Worse than it appears. Self reference!

Review: Cookie Puss

How do they get away with this? Being delicious. That's why Cookie Puss is so endearing. But besides the fact of taste, this is one of the bigger what the fucks. So big- that you have to bring your 'A' game to make fun of it. Patton Oswalt, on his 'Feeling kind of Patton' album, waxs way more intellectual than any of us hope to achieve, specifically in Tom Carvel's radio spots for Cookie Puss. "Tom Carvel sounds like Tom Waits gargling hot asphalt."

Just the name puss is hilarious enough. The Beastie Boys second EP was called Cooky Puss and goodness knows back in those days they had nothing but 'A' game. They say 'Pussy Crumbs'! Crude? Yes. Hilarious? Another yes.

How about some pop culture humor from James L. Brooks completely dated TV yet amazing TV hero 'The Critic'? Jay takes son Marty to Judo class where Jay is promised a Cookie Puss for each class Marty takes. Marty meets his first opponent, Shatashi the Eater of Souls, who says he will eat Marty's soul. Cut to:

Cookie Puss is not so much a part of pop culture, as he is a joke within Pop Culture. He is an alien themed cake with a backstory that says he is from the planet Birthday, and that I wish I made up myself. It's beyond ridiculous so much that it is accepted ridiculousness. For the height of Cookie Puss as means of inspiration to make fun of, we turn to the king, Howard Stern. Howard made fun of Fred so much for buying his Mom a cookie puss that he received a card from Carvel for mentioning them so much. This is something I can't full recap because recapping Howard Stern is like recapping The Bible over 1000s of years and interpreting into something that makes young gay people commit suicide. ANYWAY, Cookie Puss. It's a light bulb type shape that is still available, and still hilarious. Example: when the State reunited:

And with that, we hit all the surface level ridiculousness that is Cookie Puss. We get the backstory, and the fact that it is still delicious. But it still is something hilarious to say. There's not too much thought to be behind a Cookie Puss other than 'ok' and 'yea it is weird'. Cookie Puss is something to revel in. I, for one, hope to be able to make fun of Cookie Puss in new and exciting ways. But for now, this blog entry + that's enough.

Review: Bubble Play

Welcome to Dumb Review's theme week: 'Marketing Ice Cream Novelities'. Ice Cream is generally considered a treat, but getting us to buy a certain ice cream, well, that's a trick. Trick and Treat, so Marketing Ice Cream is basically Halloween's bastard older brother who picks you up at your date making smoochie sounds and then when you get to the car he drives away a little bit, then you go for the door handle again, he drives some more again, and this humiliates you. SO- today's topic: Bubble Play.

First off, the name. Oh the thought put into that name. They had a list of gum or ice cream related terms, and a list of baseball terms. This is likely the only one that came close to making sense. Fortunately the whole Bubble Play incongrati does not make sense.

One- I am pretty sure they tried making a chocolate turkey but couldn't decide what to use for the beak.

Two- their next door neighbor factory made gumballs, and had a surplus of baseball printed gumballs because they really thought they would sell.

Three- That ball is crazy disproportionate size. Unless your hand was as big as a frying pan. Unless your hand can cup three breasts on three different women at once. Unless your hand is a head. Or the ball is small, in that case you have to be really good at baseball to use it. What with vision and all. But that is the size of a bottle cap. I imagine this ball would be used in the Dominican or Haiti because they can't afford the full ball. Then the winner would get the gum. Makes sense, Haiti.

The rest of the numbers- A lot of ice cream for a little stick. You have to eat evenly. Rules when eating is no fun. You'd have to go finger, then finger, etc. The ball? Do you take it off? Save it for the end? Combine with the thick chocolate? Who cares about baseball this much to get their ice cream themed to show it? I imagine there is better chocolate options without a hard gumball. Chocolate and gum are hardly good together. And it is not even that cool unless this is the first time you have seen it. The novelty of this one wears of quite quick, mostly do to the fact that it doesn't taste great. Isn't ice cream novelty a cyclical process- take out the Bugs Bunny add Dora the Explorer, Sponge Bob still lasts because it has multiple colors and a face while Spiderman hangs on by a thread. And then they give us a brown hand with a gumball in the middle? There are so many choices, namely every, better than the bubble play. Torpedos, Choco Taco, Mega Missles, Wrestler themed bars, a whole litany of pop ups. But would I still eat it the bubble play if they were the cheapest option or one was found on the ground? Circumstantially still in the wrapper, not too melty- yes.

Review: The Cone vs Cup Argument

Welcome to Dumb Review's theme week: 'Marketing Ice Cream Novelities'. Ice Cream is generally considered a treat, but getting us to buy a certain ice cream, well, that's a trick. Trick and Treat, so Marketing Ice Cream is basically Halloween's bastard older brother who ties up the phone when you're waiting for a call then calls the girl whose call you were waiting for hurting his finger in the process. SO- today's topic: The Cone vs Cup Argument.

In the 1970s, free love was out the door. And with that, so went the domination of the cone as a primary ice cream holder. Bowled ice cream was for the home or private get togethers. The cone signified that this ice cream came from somewhere else, that it was handed to you. Enter 'the cup' the symbol of american ingenuity. The cup was streamlined, for the man on the go. The cup said 'I don't need to eat the receptacle in which I am presented this ice cream.

Questions abounded when the cup was introduced: Does the cup hold more? Can I still get a spoon if I order a cone? How can I trick someone into saying they want to see me pee? The cone fought back though, coming in different shapes- the last great achievement being the waffle cone. The waffle cone could hold as many toppings as the cup, and had an air of prestige to it.

Now the argument exists to have a cup or cone. and believe me- this is one of the stupidest arguments to have, right behind adding milk before or after the cereal is poured, and slightly ahead of Best Foot Size. It's ice cream, there should be no argument. There should be coexistence, because there hardly is a difference that matters. People like what like in ways they like it. Cones are messier and that's awesome, but not everyone likes to be messy when eating. So really, there is no argument there, unless you are that much of a douchebag. For the record: I am assuming there might be at least 3/4ths of a person who cares.

And the business behind all this: Cones are marketed towards children, people on vacation, and women who feel sorry for themselves . While cups are there for the men who drive them there. They also invented the edible bowl. It costs more but ends the argument. Personally, I get both and complain if they don't let me. I call it "The Great Expansion" and promote it at world peace conferences.