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Steven Grant
Josh Elder
Christopher S. Wilson
Mauro Vargas
Andres Carranza
Andres Ponce
Tomas Aira
Leonardo Pietro
Michael Netzer
Brian Warmoth
Molly Crabapple
John Leavitt
David Gallaher
David Marquez
Justin Aclin
Chris Ward
Eric Palicki
Cool Whip: The very name conjures up images of tasty summer treats that even those lame lactose-intolerant (or as we like to call them, lactose bigoted) kids can eat. But really, do you know what you're putting in your body? No? Well for crying out loud, man, that's what Asylum's here for. Read on to see our pretty chart of everything that goes into the Cool Whip.
Nick Nadel and I co-plotted this off his idea for the article, then I did the Photoshop while he wrote the text below. We had a lot of fun, and I'll tell you a secret: I fought so hard for the Burger King Fellini film I think I came down to "I'm doing it no matter what, so you might as well run it."
We've finally calmed down after learning that the E-Trade babies -- those sassy talking tots who understand the global stock market for no apparent reason -- could be starring in their own movie. And no longer brimming with furious anger, we thought we'd help remake-happy Hollywood's current creative bankruptcy. It's only a matter of time before they give up and just start pumping out feature-length advertisements.
Here's where they got it wrong: Instead of forcing a "Look Who's Talking" rip-off down our collective throats, Tinseltown should have looked to other (i.e., better) advertising mascots for inspiration.
Here are seven movies based on famous commercials that we'd actually like to see.
(All posters below designed by Brendan McGinley)
"The Noid"
The beloved Domino's Pizza mascot comes to the big screen at last!
When the nation's pizzas are threatened by nefarious super-prankster The Noid (played by Tracy Morgan), it's up to one diligent Domino's employee (Jesse Eisenberg) and his impossibly hot girlfriend (Olivia Wilde) to stop the costumed imp before it's too late.
It's the movie that guarantees at least 30 minutes of laughs ... or your ticket is free!
"National Treasure: Where's the Beef?"
It's a race around the world as Nicolas Cage helps former Wendy's spokeswoman Clara Peller (deliciously brought back to life by the special effects wizards behind "Avatar") finally uncover the location of the beef.
Will they find a patty large enough to satisfy Peller's ravenous hunger before it's too late? And what secrets lie in Ronald Reagan's tomb?
Co-starring Rich Little as the voice of robot Reagan!
"Exorbitant Charges"
Two cops, one city terrorized by overages and dead spots.
From the guy who brought you "Date Night" and "Night at the Museum: Battle for the Smithsonian" comes the one action-comedy you won't need to silence your cell phone for.
"Exorbitant Charges" stars both Luke Wilson (as AT&T spokesman Luke Wilson) and the Verizon "Can You Hear Me Now?" guy.
"Six Flags Over da Streets"
From the studio that brought you "Dangerous Minds" and "Freedom Writers" comes a tale of believing in yourself when the chips are down.
They were a street-wise group of inner-city teens. He was a mysterious, creepy old guy who taught them the power of dance. Together, their love for roller coasters, overpriced funnel cakes, and cheesy '90s dance music would change the world. This winter, more flags means more hugs.
The soundtrack is entirely made up of the Vengaboys' song "We Like to Party" (aka "The Six Flags Theme") as remixed by the Black Eyed Peas, Ke$ha, 3Oh!3, All-American Rejects and other terrible bands.
"Burger Satyricon"
Sex, violence and an ungodly amount of Whopper Jrs. all factor into this bizarre, Fellini-esque tale of the rise and fall of the Burger King "King."
How did he get to be the King? Why is he so irresistible to women? How can he appear in random places offering strangers a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit like it's no big thing?
This summer, audiences will find out why it's good to be the King -- if they can even figure out what's going on.
"Paranoia"
It's old-school thrills when the Geico money stack stars in the Hitchcockian thriller "Paranoia."
Who's watching you? A pile of cash with googly eyes. Bet you didn't see that coming!
Directed by whoever made "Saw VI."
"The Outlast"
The director of "The Road" returns to post-apocalyptic horror with this tale of a toy bunny that keeps "going and going and going" -- even after a nuclear holocaust turns the population into roving, cannibalistic gangs.
It's nearly three hours of the Energizer Bunny banging his drum through beautifully shot barren wastelands. Just give this one the Best Picture Oscar now, folks.
This Christmas, Energizer outlasts the competition ... until the end of time.
Someone in England wrote this article, and then I Americanized it, turning every wry witticism into toilet humor.
I also swapped out odd-toed ungulates for Alpha Flight, because they're terrible, whereas ungulates are an all right order of mammals in my book.
Wikipedia page: Donaudampf schiffahrtselektrizitatenhaupt betriebswerkbauunterbeamtengesellschaft (all one word)
Which is what? An incredibly long German word.
Huh? The German language loves itself some compound words (in German: kompositwortswiemädupp), and this one of its longest. It means 'Association for subordinate officials of the head office management of the Danube steamboat electrical services' which is becoming more and more common in today's steamboat-based economy.
How to use it in a sentence: Assume you started losing your audience halfway through the word and bring them back with the good stuff. "Athought a fine example of sesquipedalianism, Donaudampf schiffahrtselektrizitätenhauptbetriebswerkbauunterbeamtengesellschaft will never recover from last month's spicy sex scandal."
Wikipedia page: The Alpha Flight family of entries
Which is what? Canada's answer to The Avengers
Huh? It's one thing when the entry for Superman is 50 times longer than the one for Man & Superman. It's quite another to make an individual page for the headquarters of a team other comic book characters make fun of. Standalone entries also waste electricity for Alpha Flight's back-up teams, and characters who died in their first appearance.
How to use it in a sentence: "Alpha Flight hasn't really been able to carry a book since Wolverine quit."
Wikipedia page: The Katzenklavier
Which is what? It's a cat piano.
Huh? Yep, a piano made of cats. You press keys like you would on a normal keyboard, except the hammers hit specially tonally selected cats' outstretched tails, making them meow out in pain. Weird, right? But sensible, when you think about it. Those "Meow Mix" commercials aren't going to torture themselves. Sadly, no instructions for how to modify one to accommodate the cast of The Jersey Shore.
How to use it in a sentence: "My wife Yoko Ono and I are recording an album of blues classics stripped of every third beat and instead of guitar, a Katzenklavier."
Wikipedia page: Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo
Which is what? A very bizarre sentence.
Huh? You're going to wish you didn't know this, but buffalo has just enough versatility and inertia of plurality to build a grammatically coherent thought that won't be useful till the next Ice Age. Using homonyms and homophones, the arrangement of nouns, verbs, adjectives and place names makes perfect grammatical sense, and makes you sound like a genius and a tool at the same time. It describes a herd of buffalo in the city of Buffalo who intimidate ("buffalo") other buffalo beneath them. See? It wasn't worth learning, was it?
How to use it in a sentence: Using it in a sentence is all you can do, and, in fact, the only reason this entry exists. Nevertheless, our advice is don't.
Wikipedia page: Foreign Accent Syndrome
Which is what? A strange mental condition.
Huh? A very, very rare side effect of certain brain injuries where patients wake up speaking their native tongue – but in a totally different accent, with Englishmen speaking like New Yorkers and vice versa, and Americans sounding like Keanu Reeves in Dracula. It's nigh-on unbelievable, but it's actually happened. Wikipedia says so. Can you imagine how maddening it must be? Cursed never to use your own voice, with your loved ones unsympathetically insisting you're taking this joke too far.
How to use it in a sentence: "Oi, you lot! Don't be havin' a larff at me Foreign Accent Syndrome, now, or I'll box your ears, so I will!"
Wikipedia page: Uncombable Hair Syndrome
Which is what? A strange hair-based condition.
Huh? No, it isn't just an official term for "curly hair", but a genuine condition, whereby an unusual structural anomaly of the hair means the mess on your scalp (typically straw-colored or whitish-blond) cannot be combed flat...yet. Get on it, science.
How to use it in a sentence: "No, it's not uncombable hair syndrome; they're pretty normal pubes."
Wikipedia page: The Original Whizzinator
Which is what? A piece of avoiding getting busted for taking drugs.
Huh? This was a kit for cheating urine-sample tests. It even heated up the liquid to room temperature, and included fake penises (individual skin tones available on request) to fool any inspector. The manufacturer has been convicted of 'selling drug paraphernalia' and has been sentenced for 6 months in jail, where he'll no doubt undergo... drug tests. Sometimes, life is poetry.
How to use it in a sentence: "My girlfriend's into some bedroom games I'm not entirely comfortable with. I need to get a Whizzinator."
Wikipedia page: Wolfe+585, Senior
Which is what? It's a name. Yes, a name.
Huh? It's the shortened form of the longest name, ever. It starts with "Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus" and goes on for ages. Its bearer once complained that newspaper misspelled it, and had a correction printed. No, really.
How to use it in a sentence: Frankly, who has the breath?
Wikipedia page: Leck mich im Arsch
Which is what? It's a canon written by none other than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Huh? This canon's title transliterates to mean "Lick me in the ass" – though the more idiomatic translation is "Get stuffed." Titled Let Us Be Glad by publishers, its original lyrics, "Lick me in the ass, quickly," were replaced with "Let us be glad, grumbling is in vain," which is pretty empty comfort if you're already engaged in the first version.
How to use it in a sentence: "Since I am the lead character in a typical German porno, kindly Leck mich im Arsch. Ah...thank you."
Wikipedia page: Hitler bacon or 'Hitlerszalonna'
Which is what? Bacon for people who don't have bacon.
Huh? We don't mean to rail on Germany, but Hitler and bacon together comprise 8% of the internet, so we couldn't leave this one off the list. During WW2, bacon was in short supply. As a bizarre substitute, Hungarian soldiers fighting for Germany were given very dense jam made from plums and the like, hardened into the shape of a brick, to be sliced up and cooked. They called it... Hitler Bacon. That's sort of like building a pinewood derby car and naming it Killbot 3000.
How to use it in a sentence: "Despite having entirely parve ingredients, Hitler bacon will never pass kosher inspection."
Wikipedia page: Fox tossing
Which is what? Exactly what it sounds like.
Huh? Cruelty and point systems go together like human and nature. In the 17th and 18th centuries, people bundled animals into leather slings and fired the poor beasts into the air for sport. Maybe those foxes were shredding local chicken populations, but it's not like positive reinforcement is going to stop them. Not content with bite and claw wounds from foxes, slingers expanded their predator-tossing game to wildcats.
How to use it in a sentence: This phrase is ripe to return as some sort of political expression, in which a nearly harmless annoyance is riled into a hot mess. "What if all this uninformed Tea Party nonsense fox-tosses Christine O'Donnell into the Senate?"
Wikipedia page: The small penis rule
Which is what? A trick used by lawyers to get their writer clients out of libel trouble.
Huh? Essentially, it fixes situations where Mr Famous Person A complains that Writer B has written a character that's essentially them in a bad light, but with a different name. The lawyer now uses the rule. "But for this character to be like you, you'd also have to have a small penis to prove the similarity, as the character definitely has a small penis. Do you have a small penis, Mr Famous Person A?" Didn't think so...
How to use it in a sentence: Probably best you don't court slander or libel charges, unless you want to face down fictional rocker Rick Dagger.
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In which we see other applications for that many gallons of oil, graphic by me, off research and text by Wendy Rose Gould.
Here's my very first Asylum article, followed by some bonus material.
Happy birthday, President Washington!
What made Ol' Wooden Chompers the Father of Our Country (besides spending all of mom's money on drink), was his sheer will to make the army function. When the Pennsylvania Line mutinied, Washington did the unexpected: He took their grievances to Congress. (Less lucky: the executed leaders of the New Jersey Line uprising thereafter.)
When the going gets tough, the tough get creative, and quite possibly brutal. Confronted by a challenge, these leaders proved unpredictable enough to win, or at least blow the enemy's mind.
HANNIBAL BARCA
When Hannibal wanted to move his army somewhere that hadn't been used as a toilet by 50,000 mercenaries, Roman general Fabius was outside the valley blocking more access points than a Promise Keepers purity ball.
Common sense says press the enemy's weakest point, move in darkness, and divert attention to spread out your foes. But only maniacal genius says to do all of those with stampeding cattle on fire.
With burning torches tied to their horns, the army guided the panicked cows to the pass. By the time they reached the Romans guarding it, half the forest was on fire and the other half smelled like delicious steak.
Hannibal's army waltzed through, presumably in the formation of a middle finger.
TIMUR
Hannibal was most famous for bringing elephants over the Alps and only getting most of their handlers killed.
But elephants are smart enough to panic when things go wrong. Like, for instance, another batch of burning livestock.
Facing 120 armored war elephants with poisoned tusks, Genghis Khan's descendant Timur sanely responded, "Hell no, I'm not fighting that." He then not-so-sanely set camels on fire. The elephants turned and trampled the Indian army in their rush to be someplace with fewer screaming pack-animals.
VLAD III
What, in turn, intimidated the Turks? Only Dracula.
In his time, Prince Vlad impaled more people than Ron Jeremy. He racked up a six-figure body count back when the world population practically was six figures.
That didn't deter Sultan Mehmed II from invading Wallachia, so Vlad undertook the most ambitious PsyOp in history. As the Sultan's army marched into Targoviste, they passed through a forest of 20,000 impaled Turks.
ZHUGE LIANG
"The Crouching Dragon" of the Shu Kingdom caught one rebel leader seven times, setting him free until he surrendered of his own broken will. He was feared in a way most men brandishing feathery fans are not. Basically, he was Ancient Chinese Batman.
The best story about Zhuge Liang that doesn't involve magic is when Zhou Yu, the Wu commander told Zhuge Liang that he had to supply 100,000 arrows in 10 days or be executed.
The resourceful Liang filled boats with scarecrows and drifted toward the opponents' encampment. His war drums attracted more than 100,000 arrows, all sunk in the boat hull and his straw sailors.
SIMEON & LEVI
For the last word in tricks that succeeded despite being insane, consider Israel versus the Hivites. Simeon & Levi's sister was raped by Prince Shechem of the Hivites, who then had the gumption to ask for her hand in marriage.
So the brothers offered to merge tribes, with one catch. As per Jewish law, Hivite men would need to be circumcised. (Although one would hope there was also a "no more rape" clause.)
The Hivites soon found themselves ... well, let the Bible tell it: "On the third day, when the men of the city were in pain, Jacob's sons Simeon and Levi each took his sword, came upon the city with stealth, and killed all the men, including Hamor and Shechem."
That's right. Two avengers slaughtered every man in the city, none of whom could stand up. Remember that if anyone offers to trade you cattle for your foreskin.
In Hannibal's opinion, the greatest general of all time was Pyrrhus of Epirus. We tend to think of Pyrrhus as a loser thanks to the prevalent phrase "Pyrrhic Victory," but remember the second half of that is VICTORY. The Commander was of the opinion that for sheer audacity joined to brains, you couldn't beat Ol' Pyrrhy, a man who was determined to get the job done no matter what.
WHAT HE SET OUT TO DO
Nothing less than destroy the Roman empire. Alexander the Great's second cousin couldn't hold onto a throne, so he decided to carve one for himself. The Greeks had colonized the coast of southern Italy, and Rome's expansion put a bunch of Latin knights sharpening their swords in plain view of Magna Graecia. The city of Tarentum asked him to command their war, so Pyrrhus did the reasonable thing and sought the advice of a hallucinating virgin. Whereas today that would get you some ghastly Twilight fan fiction, the Oracle at Delphi gave a wordy amphiboly that guaranteed she'd be right no matter what happened, a tactic familiar to any man who's ever argued with his wife.
Thus assured in the wisdom of his endeavor, Pyrrhus set forth to literally strangle the Roman empire in its crib. His 25,000 troops, plus some non-Latin Italian allies, met Rome at the Battle of Heraclea for a mixed martial arts clash so thunderous Pyrrhus' humongous brass balls are still vibrating in his grave. Neither phalanx nor legion could thwart the other until Pyrrhus decided to do things the easy way and unleashed his war elephants.
Pyrrhus, like any cop out for justice, stood over his foes' bodies as the backup arrived just late enough to say, "Damn...I'll call it in." The unified Greek forces then wandered around the bootheel, taking or plundering any town they wanted. Rome, the European terrorist in this action flick, upped the ante by slaughtering a bunch of Greeks so they couldn't join Pyrrhus. It's important to remember in this article that Romans are dicks (Latin: [i]mentulae[/i]).
WHAT WENT WRONG
The Battle of Asculum. The evenly sized armies fought, with Pyrrhus finally cracking the solid steel shields of the legion, but taking some good licks of his own. Eventually, the elephants were able to stomp Rome again, and the Latin army retreated, losing 6,000 men to Pyrrhus' 3,500 men. All good, right?
Wrong. Now Pyrrhus is running short on men, including many of his best officers. He hasn't picked up the Italic allies he thought he would. In his own words, "We can't survive another victory like this one." He may have added, "Now give me that crown." Making matters worse, the pasta wouldn't have tomato sauce for another 1700 years, so there wasn't a lot of incentive to stick around. But, hey, Rome's been thoroughly spanked and run home holding its bottom twice now, maybe they'd be sensible and agree to respect Tarentine independence.
Yeah, that would have been swell, except: the Romans were dicks. They wouldn't talk treaty until Pyrrhus went home, at which point Rome would have had as much as incentive to negotiate as a bank robber given a private jet and the secret map to Nude Carnival Island.
Bear in mind, Pyrrhus wasn't overrunning Rome, he was simply asking them to leave his people alone, which is kind of like those same police letting the robber take home whatever he can carry if he promises not to do it again. On top of all that, by leaving the continent, he'd have to abdicate the throne he was angling for in the first place. That would have been tough explaining to several thousand widows back in Greece.
Rome allied with Carthage, the other almighty empire at the time, who pounced on Syracuse like it was Ass-Kicking Tuesday and Sicily wore size 44 jeans. Pyrrhus tried to help, but the legendary Punic navy was so eager to cut him open you'd have thought he had a caramel center. His attentions now divided and his resources dwindling, he lost to the Romans at the aptly-named town of "Bad Event" which those garlic-munching imperialists promptly renamed Beneventum ("Good Event"). Because again: Romans = dicks.
THE AFTERMATH
Pyrrhus left us with the phrase "Pyrrhic Victory," a triumph so costly it wasn't worth the prize. He also left enough troops to defend Tarentum, which waited about five minutes for him to leave before promptly surrendering to the Romans. In a surprising display of non-dickery Rome didn't punish the rebellion, even letting them govern themselves, which was exactly what all the bloodshed was over. All the war did was encourage the development of new, passive-aggressive dick techology.
Pyrrhus got his crown by attacking the Macedonian homeland, but got greedy enough to make the mistake of attacking Sparta, despite being aware that it was full of Spartans.
Refusing to learn, he proceeded to Argos. Alas, if talent ran in family, all the Baldwins would be worth watching. Similarly, Alexander's cousin was killed by an old woman bonking him with a roof tile, serving up the assist for an Argive stabbing fatality. But you have to admit, that's still a more dignified end than Stephen Baldwin.
Bonus Hannibal today: I've got an article on incredibly audacious generals over at Asylum. Lots of burning livestock and impalations there, if that's your thing. No Pyrrhus, but there are robot oxen. Because those were all Washington wanted for his birthday.
New Asylum article went up today! The Love Almanac.
It's got a real purty infographic made specially for you.
Every year, February builds up to that one holiday that means so much to so many: Presidents Day. What most people don't realize is that another day, hidden in the mix, promises love and joy to all whose hearts are pure and minds are dirty. We speak, of course, of Valentine's Day.
But what of those whose Valentine's expectations are disappointed with a gas-station bouquet of half-dead roses and an unsatisfying two minutes in the sack? It turns out disappointment and a need to feel appreciated leads many to stray after certain holidays, according to AshleyMadison.com founder Noel Biderman. Valentine's Day, New Year's and even Mother's Day spike traffic to the Web site for people looking to have an affair.
For your relationship to weather time and tide, you're going to need a guide. Here's our rough almanac to your year of marriage.
Over at Asylum they asked me to do a flashy chart for Andy Green's article on horrifying facts about lady parts. And I said "Flashy? No no no, let us be demure."
What's a tasteful way of making a visual representation for that kind of thing? I went for an anterior view of the pubic bone, because when you buy my services, you're buying class. Also, sarcasm. But mostly class. And I make a good martini.
Anyway, I asked them to hold off the credit, because when this originally ran, I was job-hunting and didn't really want Google linking my name with "Horrifying vagina." Which of course it's doing right now. I've already got my name image-associated to a dude banging an inflatable horse (not my fault) and two guys in Spider-Man costumes (okay, that's my fault).
It blew up Digg, though, to Andy's credit. Or maybe credit is due to female anatomy. One of those has got to be popular on the internet. Anyway, yeah. I didn't write any of that follows, but I took a day's pay to gig up the graphic. God, that went down as one of the worst summers of my existence. Not because of all the cold, clinical vagina I'm getting paid to make PG, but because of all the stuff that was preferable to.
When I wrote this, I'd been dumped for all of of half a week, and my very old dog (who later died that year) was 130 miles away. All I wanted was to get out of the house I'd been sitting in with freelance and shattered expectations for the last few days and walk along the waterfront with a dog. For money.
And I swear to you, that pit bull lay down in the street and refused to go towards the shore. She insisted we head towards the more populated Bedford Ave.
Anyway, a pretty good dog. I hope she found a loving home.
Can I tell you a secret? I just wanted to walk a dog. It's been a rough month. I would have adopted Mango in two seconds if I 1) didn't belong to a labrador in CT already 2) were allowed to have a pet in my apartment, and 3) had enough money to feed myself, let alone a giant pit bull.
Everyone knows that women love men with dogs. But what if you don't have the time, patience and willingness to scoop excrement off the sidewalk with a plastic bag every day for the next 7–10 years? You "borrow" a shelter dog, take it for a walk, and then return it a couple hours later.
That's what some unscrupulous singles are doing as a means to meet women, according to the New York Post. But does it actually work? I decided to test it as unscientifically as possible.
I swing by BARC (Brooklyn Animal Rescue Coalition) on a breezy Tuesday evening. My companion is brought out, a barrel-chested pit bull mix named Mango. A ball of herringbone muscle explodes into me with all the reserve of a pinball, leaps up to eye level, and begins harmlessly nibbling my arm.
"She likes to chew," says the next fellow in line, who's been here before. Sweet -- she ignores personal boundaries and has a harmless fetish. This dog is going to make my quirks look good.
Keep reading to see if Mango made a good wingdog.
To test Mango's skills, I've barred myself from starting a conversation unless the dog makes an opening for me. We're trying to gauge how much interest this pooch can raise, and it wouldn't be right for me to distort the experiment with smooth opening lines like, "You know, I can eat an entire slice of pizza in one bite. What, this? Oh, it's a dog ..."
I plan to take Mango west to the park where there's always someone enjoying the view of Manhattan, but after a few steps she shows her best trick: passive resistance. When Mango doesn't want to go somewhere, she drops flat on the ground, daring you to drag her in full view of the people who just entrusted her to your care. I count on them to forgive my gentle nudge, since their dog is now prone in the middle of the street.
She has no problem staying upright when we venture northeast, which is where all the dames are, so that's one point for the dog. Before long, we're caroming down Havemayer, Metropolitan and Driggs, but what women we pass don't give Mango much of a glance. The ones who do are escorting feebler canines and avoid my awesome pit bull. Here's a rule: If a dog weighs under 10 lbs., it's a cat until it proves itself otherwise.
Mango and I drag each other onto Bedford Ave. with no female interaction; it's clearly time to give her a push. We encounter a cute brunette and her dog Zoey, so I ask her permission to let the dogs meet and greet. They sniff each other's intimate parts while I take the more subtle path of inquiring about Zoey's breed, given her unusually large ears. Things are going so well, I'm about to introduce myself, when something makes Zoey snap. The suddenly snarling pup gets pulled away from us. I decide this is not Mango's fault, because to admit so would be admitting my dog is as charming yet socially inept as I am.
Bedford is definitely the spot for this ploy, rife with people getting home from work or going out to dinner. Finally, women are admiring the dog, and one shapely blonde even throws an arm out to pet Mango, but is instantly gone. I stop a couple of girls in leather jackets and Ray Bans, and ask them to take our picture. Opportunity is there if you're willing to make it, but I've already kept Mango out past curfew.
We return to BARC, unburdened by the phone numbers of Brooklyn beauties, but we had fun. Walking a pooch might not open doors with all women, but it's a great way to approach ladies with other dogs, often at 35 mph.
New piece up at Asylum: If the Oscars Were Honest, starring gobs of Photoshopped movie posters.
Sunday is Oscar night, and while that means nothing to anyone who doesn't read gossip magazines, we still can't escape their buzz. So we know that the categories and winners aren't exactly straightforward. As the film industry dislocates its shoulder patting itself on the back, we have some suggestions to bring honesty and awesometicity to the Academy Awards:
First, we have Best Actor. Deserving nominees can't compete with the tabula rasa that christens itself Nicolas Cage. An ordinary Best Actor statuette doesn't capture the undiluted dramatic power of Cagedom. We propose a new category: Best Overwrought Nicolas Cage Performance.
Keep reading for more of our own awards and posters.
Milla Jovovich also throws herself into every role she takes, be it terrible action movie, terrible horror film, or terrible indie comedy. Did you know she trained three hours a day for months prior to Resident Evil: Apocalypse? Why? There are Taco Bell commercials with better plotlines than that train wreck. There needs to be an award for Best Milla Jovovich Performance in a Movie That Didn't Deserve Her Commitment.
Then there are the supporting roles. We all know the winner's never judged on just the role that he's nominated for, and these categories are where Hollywood likes to reward the larger context. That's why the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor Dead or Near Death goes to...
Actresses as a whole face a tougher challenge than actors; there's an entire industry devoted to tracking their body fat. The rule of thumb is if a beautiful woman does something, it's pop, but if an unattractive woman does it, it's art. Therefore we're creating the Best Artificially Dowdy Actress Drawing Attention to Her Acting Ability.
Look, we're not saying most action films are transcendent statements of human suffering. We're just saying if 90 percent of everything is crap, then so are most films that only college professors own on Blu-ray. The award for Most Pretentious Film People Are Afraid Not to Admire goes to...
On a similar note, there's a category for Best Foreign Language Film. The winner's usually pretty good, even though the category implies an inferior English-language flick wins Best Picture every time. The fact is, American audiences just don't have the mental software to enjoy a lot of stories outside our frame of reference, so why not re-brand this Most Incomprehensible Foreign Film?
Speaking of foreign films, how come a remake of one is the only time Martin Scorsese gets his due? Let's be frank, this category should be Best Director Who Isn't Martin Scorsese Even Though Martin Scorsese Is The Best Director.
They've never explained what makes the Best Animated Film separate. Is it the quality of animation? Or is it just a great film that would get its butt kicked in the other categories because cartoons are perceived as kid stuff? The best stories of the century have all come from one studio, so let's just re-name this one Best Pixar Film and Live-Action Is Lucky It's Stuck in This Category.
It's easier to make an audience cry than it is to laugh, but there's still no respect for the clowns in the Academy's hall of heroes. It's time to come clean and recognize Best Picture That Should Have Won Best Picture but It's a Comedy.
Another Asylum article, and it's all about nostalgia, which I'm told is popular among the man-children who populate the internet these days. Kneel before your one true god, retro-pop devotees! KNEEEEEEEL!
And it was fun to write.
But even better than that is the matchup between the toughest fictional females in pop culture. I'm an objective analyst in such matters, or you would have seen Veronica Mars triumphant.
Official article below!
This wonderful snowball fight between Princess Leia and Lara Croft got us wondering who'd win if these two ladies actually squared off (or curved off, rather) in real life. Then our stunted pea brains wandered and we found ourselves pondering who is truly the toughest woman in pop-culture history.
Before we knew it, we had a sort of March Madness for gladiatrices on our hands ... and in our geeky hearts. Because there's just something awesome about a woman who could kill you, but doesn't.
Read on to see which pop-culture babe is the baddest ever, and please let us know if we've left anyone out. Xena, anyone?
And don't gripe at me about how some of these were remade for your crappy platform. I'm talking here about games that truly deserve a second chance in our new wireless, body-language reading, super-graphics consoles.
A long time ago, there was a heartwarming Nintendo game full of potential, despite the limitations of the 8-bit system. We're speaking, of course, about "Wall Street Kid." Wall Street's still cool these days, right?
No? Good, because the Wayford/Majesco reinterpretation of "A Boy and His Blob" is a much better example of what we're talking about. Boy feeds Blob jellybeans, Blob turns into useful shapes according to what flavors he eats. The new version is gorgeous, accessible, and heartwarming -- in all ways an expansion of the already-fun original's potential.
The only catch is it has made us hungry for terrific recreations of NES titles that were greater than the 8 bits that went into them.
Click through to see some cult classics that deserve a second shot at life on a high-tech console.
"Super Dodgeball"
If ever a game were meant for Wii, it's the hilarious sport of chucking a ball two dozen different ways at someone's head. Imagine how great it would be to lob custom missiles at your family based on your actual windup and pitch instead of pressing button combos. Bonus points to whoever invents a Nerf peripheral for actual clobbery.
"Battletoads"
A terrific sense of humor, a broad variety of attacks and the ability for players and enemies to attack their own side make this one of the most beloved NES games out there. America needs a "Battletoads" game in a 3-D environment. Do it for the troops.
"Paperboy"
Before there was "Grand Theft Auto," there was "Paperboy," a thin excuse to wreak as much havoc as possible in your neighborhood. The question is, now that there is GTA, why can't we use its engine to dodge lawn mowers, beehives and the occasional Grim Reaper? Come on, Atari, why don't you collaborate with Rockstar on something beautiful?
"Skate or Die 2"
Despite its clumsy handling and messy graphics, "Skate or Die 2 "was raw fun. The Tony Hawk series also left the ramp to thrash urban terrain, so take the skateboard peripheral from "Tony Hawk's Ride," ditch the glitch, and graft sleek gameplay onto a punk skateboarding adventure. "Skate or Die 2" was much more engaging than its predecessor, so use its story and bizarre sense of fun to create some delirious anarchy.
"River City Ransom"
There are a lot of games about two geeky gym rats beating their way through the streets to rescue someone's girlfriend, the President or the President's girlfriend. Usually they just murder everyone in town until they stumble across the right person. But the only one to make it even more fun than Double Dragon was this unrepentant thuggery.
"Kid Icarus"
This game was always meant for a 3-D world. Taking aim in flight is an activity just crying out for a dual-analog controller. Lovable lead character Pit has already been recreated for "Super Smash Bros." so throw in some trick arrows, and you have yourself a game.
Honorable mention: "Captain N: The Game Master"
Though never actually a video game, Captain N existed in between all Nintendo games. Imagine if all the languishing properties out there were licensed for one epic quest. You could guide the Captain through a world where each level is a better version of those '80s classics. And that, friends, would be the finest world of all.
What other classic NES games should be re-released?
Don't tell my ma I wrote this Astroglide piece for Asylum. It'd break her heart to find out I'm having pre-marital comedy.
Shed a tear for the deleted one-liner, "Water prevents pregnancy; that why fish can't reproduce, right?" It were my fav'rit.
You may also notice I got some of the science wrong. Look again: I got the science FUNNY.
Lubricant! That magic potion that keeps your partner's orifices interested in what your body's talking about is mysterious stuff. It's water, but it's sticky; it's alcohol, but it dissolves. Here's a breakdown of how that bottle of Astroglide in your mom's underwear drawer works.
Keep reading for a more detailed breakdown of what makes this bottle more fun than a Slip-n-Slide...
Purified Water
Awesome! Water prevents pregnancy, right? It turns out water is only in here as a medium for the good stuff. Sorry, should have told you that six weeks ago.
Glycerin
It's a sugar alcohol, meaning it's basically antifreeze for your private parts. It won't evaporate due to the friction of your conviction, unless you're the Flash. But even if you are, cross-country runners never get laid, so it's not your concern.
Propylene Glycol
If water is a universal solvent, what good is this additional solvent? We can only assume (incorrectly) from the name "propylene" that this is some kind of propellant so you can set new land-speed records for having to explain that you usually last longer. But seriously, propylene glycol, good job doing whatever it is you do.
Polyquaternium 15
Its chemical name is acrylamide-dimethylaminoethyl methacrylate methyl chloride copolymer. That's a lot of meth! So remember: Every time you're having sex, you're making good use of methane that would otherwise contribute to global warming.
Methylparaben
According to Miss Manners, it's polite to clean up before you stick your private parts in someone else's body. It's a respect thing. But also, there's a weird love triangle in nature between sugar, yeast and alcohol. Since glycerin is two of those, methylparaben is the bouncer that keeps yeast infections waiting outside.
Propylparaben
You'd think with all the alcohol inside, our nation's body cavities would be pickled for eternity. You'd be wrong. This ingredient is here specifically to act as a preservative.
So there you have it, a rough guide to smooth sex. Now that you know how all the parts work, you can brew your own at home. And then, when that fails, you'll know what to compare when you go shopping for the quality stuff.
Over at Asylum Nick Nadel and I hammered out some Fakebook pages to show why the internet should stop asking Betty White for favors. Then we made that dream...a reality.
When Betty White hosted "Saturday Night Live," it meant Facebook had finally accomplished something other than detonating your privacy and making your junior high crush momentarily remember you.
But success has gone to the heads of Betty White's fans. Just punch Betty White into Facebook's search engine, and find scores of pages calling for her to host the Oscars, guest star on "Glee," and even star in her own porno. And, no, we're not linking to that, you sick bastard.
We decided to beat Facebook to the punch by predicting the five most ludicrous things Ms. White could be asked to do next.
Click through to see Betty's possible next moves.
(Click on each image to join the group on Facebook.)
Who doesn't want to see America's two cuddliest senior citizens joined in holy union? Surely the president can marry them even if they object, right? That's probably in one of the early Constitutional amendments.
A longtime animal supporter, Ms. White's natural next step might be eradicating a horrendous scourge. Since "Heroes" is already canceled, the likeliest candidate would be this epidemic.
Of course, there's more to America's favorite Golden Girl than terrible diseases that call into question to the existence of a beneficent God. A large part of Ms. White's appeal is her kindly nature. She can comfort a child with a skinned knee within five seconds of meeting him, 2.25 times faster than standard octogenarians.
A great deal of her comedy stems from the incongruity of an elderly woman sweetly uttering foul-mouthed obscenities. Let's take that a step further and apply her frailty to a grueling mission. Laughs galore!
Of course, once we've had enough Betty White to fulfill our heart's desires, there will be nowhere left to take our obsession with this fine lady ... except straight to the gutter.
In fact, maybe we'd all be better off if we just let her have a cup of tea with biscotti and an afternoon nap. You can't demand everything of someone who's given you so much.
Text by Brendan McGinley and Nick Nadel. Art by Brendan McGinley
Yes, that's a GrimJack reference I just dropped. I'm not above doing that. And Rue was alive when we did it, so that makes us...slightly less terrible people?
Lots of Vitamin B, according to this Wikipedia-fueled analysis I did for Asylum. I apologize in advance to Science.
The makers of 5-Hour Energy Shot claim it delivers all of the rush with none of the crash that accompanies high-sugar energy drinks. So what's in there to keep you alert?
Thanks to Public Domain Pictures for the coffee and asparagus.
As someone raised Red Sox who went to his first Yankees game last night, I can safely say I would rather go to Staten Island than root for the Yanks.
Remember when baseball was fun? Gentlemen in straw hats and women with parasols would gather at the cow patch to jeer, cuss and throw food at the athletes? No? Neither do we. And fortunately, we don't have to.
We can get all the Crackerjacks and none of the era's painful dentistry simply by nabbing a free ferry. Out in the forgotten borough tonight, the Staten Island Yankees start another fun season for anyone who enjoys baseball without all the muckety-muck.
Keep reading for some of the advantages the minors have over their big league buddies.
Winning Record
The Class A Short Season team has won the league championship five times since their formation in 1999, a 50 percent rate, which is even better than that of their slightly better-paid counterparts. They've also sent 41 players to the majors -- almost as many as the Ripken family.
Cheaper Tickets, Better Seats
In a case of obscene New York rents, the new Yankee Stadium clipped 4,000 seats and raised the price on a prime seat to a blinding $2,600 (The outfit eventually slashed that price in half, and still no one's willing to pay that much). Of course, that's an exceptional example. The average grass-side ticket goes for a mere $510, which would also get you a decent bedroom in Queens for a month. Contrast that with the Baby Bombers, who will plop you behind home plate for just $16.
Fun Mascots
The Yankees don't have a mascot except for 1979's Dandy bird or, worse, menu items in Yankees caps during the '90s. Their farm team sports Scooter "The Holy" Cow, an homage to Phil Rizzuto, who in addition to informing Americans about the Money Store, was apparently a respected Yankees shortstop. Lately Scooter's battled two other cows, "Red" and "Huck," so even if you hate baseball, you get to watch slapstick performed by anthropomorphic bovines. And hey, if you're a plushie, you get three times the titillation!
Promotions
Staten Island's Richmond County Bank Ballpark regularly features Tuesday Night Tickets, in which you get a twofer on a ticket purchase by bringing the wrapper from a Kraft Singles packet. Think about that: you can seat two people on the foul line for $7 each and justify eating a stack of cheese every week. And that's not even the package that gets you free Wendy's. Now if only there were some way to combine cheese and burger into a delicious hybrid.
At the man-cave that is AOL's lifestyle section Asylum, I cracked wise about the shame of being left hanging on a high five. You get to watch Ryan Seacrest drag a blind man into a faux pas.
The high-five: that expression of a victory beyond any words.
"I have succeeded in my efforts," says the gesture. "Let the thunderous clap of triumph inform the land of my deeds."
But the higher the thrill, the further the fall, and there are moments when we are denied our due.
Here are some of the worst moments when a man goes from feeling hung like a horse to left hanging like a horse thief.
A few months ago, the U.S. bombed the moon, just in case our celestial prisoner was getting any notions about who's boss. The guy in the black shirt must be important since he can't even stick around after blowing up the moon. Take a moment for the high-five!
Speaking of guys who rule the world and drink high-end scotch, here are some dudes who attend a hockey game in sport jackets.
A converse of that is someone twisting in the wind with just cause. Watching this Tyra Banks clip with the sound off, you might think she's chumping that lady whose head and hand she passes over again and again and again and again. But watch the man behind her.
Perhaps the most painful example on this list is where the shame falls not on the man, but all the men around him. Badgers QB Scott Tolzien can't find anyone to high-five him after a touchdown.
Worse, that's the quarterback, for crying out loud. Imagine if at the end of "Lethal Weapon 3," everyone had jostled Mel Gibson out of the family photograph. Sure, we would have gotten a hilariously drunken screed as an alternate ending, but something would have been lost. That something is called due respect to the guy spearheading the battle.
Next time, Tolzien should take a page from Andrew Bogut's book and high-five himself. The lesson is if no one gives a man what he deserves, he takes it anyway, even if he has to steal it from ghosts.
I wish them the worst thing benevolent intentions can deliver: clarity and self-awareness regarding their awful actions.
But till then, here are some people messing with the Phelps family and the Westboro Baptist Church over at Asylum.
Your friends at Asylum hold a lot of different beliefs. Some of us believe in God, some of us believe in nothing and some of us who are clearly right believe the world was created when the evil north wind Tezca'aunhathicon scattered the ashes of the gods' fire into the stars of the universe, as was revealed in the sacred crystals.
Since he wasn't torn apart by bears at the end of the video, we decided to round up some of our favorite videos of people heckling hateful preachers, which, naturally, led us to the Westboro Baptist Church.
When you're picketing Marines' funerals and even the KKK makes a point of distancing itself from you, you've plainly failed as Americans.
Keep reading to see the best videos of Phelps and the gang getting pwned.
Our first fine fellow swoops in at the two-minute mark in Anonymous's hallmark Guy Fawkes mask, and steals the WBC's Hawaiian flag. Damn right, because our ancestors didn't annex Hawaii at gunpoint just for some anti-American types to come in and wish for its destruction.
This next youth strides brazenly into the church's midst and promptly Rick Rolls them. Considering the Westboro Baptists start their morning with a prayer for God to kill everyone and end it by gargling with the blood of the unbaptized, that takes a serious pair. Buy this guy a beer if you know him.
Hours and hours of nudging text around until it fits into Asylum's narrow column, apparently. Not my best layout, I admit, but I dissected General Mills ingredients for 9 hours and found a way to compare salt to Darth Vader.
New article up at Asylum: everything you ever wanted to know about Tasers, but were convulsing too much to ask.
Tasers were designed with the noble goals of saving lives and incapacitating Philadelphia Phillies fans, but if that's all you know about them, how will you ever modify one into an illegal sex toy?
Keep reading to inform yourself about these wonderful devices that allow cops to take down you, the obnoxious drunk.
My Asylum article on Band and Orchestra Fails ended up on AOL's welcome screen, so now there's the added hilarity of criticisms from AOL users.
(Confidential to Offended in Omaha: For what it's worth, I don't think I wrote that "loses his s*** laughing" line. I have no problem with profanity; I just prefer mine more creative than that.)
Orchestras, symphonies and marching bands don't get enough credit. Learning to master instruments through years of hard work earns these groups little but band-camp jokes and possible praise from New York Times critics with salt-and-pepper beards.
So, we salute you, hard-working musicians of the world, the only way we know how: by making fun of your most hilarious failures.
When faced with the mighty challenge of coordinating elaborate performances, these folks went for the far-more-demanding Internet gaffe. Read on to see (and hear) bands behaving badly.
This is the gem that inspired this list. The surest way to make someone in the Asylum offices lose his sh** laughing is to turn up your speakers and play this clip. There's no picture to go along with the extremely flawed audio, but who needs one?
When this tuxedo-ed timpanist loses his fight with physics, the end result is disastrous ... and hilarious.
What can you do when your paperwork is tamped down but your instrument itself decides to pop its strings? This musician experiences a rare moment of utter de-volumization when his viola quits all four strings at once. That's what you get for buying a knockoff brand like Strattyvarious. You try to save a few thousand dollars, and it comes back to bite you.
All of these are embarrassing moments, to be sure, but none so humiliating as getting knocked out cold in front of nature's most bloodthirsty beast: the teenager. Also, painful: a shot to the face from a metal bar. Watch the guy in the orange shirt just before the half-minute mark. Then watch it again in slow-mo as the laughter of his peers turns demonically sadistic.
Faces heal, but egos remain bruised forever. Arguably more painful than catching a trombone to the face at practice are these cascading pratfalls in the middle of gameday. Watch the far left at the half-minute mark as these kids start dropping ... and dropping ... and dropping. Then laugh. Then resume watching, because the marchers will still be hitting the ground.
For an even better view of such shenanigans, watch these 10 kids take a dive just right of the middle of the screen. Then at 0:17, a saxophonist with no empathy takes out his cell phone to record the mayhem. Injury? Check. Insult? Check.
Dueling tubas? In the Zapruder film of band fails, there's a side-scuttling heavy metal section taking out a few competitors, "Showgirls"-style. Back, and to the left, boys. Back, and to your left.
Sometimes you do everything right and you're still in a bad place. Whether you're a classical concert player or a member of the spirit team, you'll never come out worse than this bell ringer whose spirited war-gong duties render him the victim of an unfortunate camera angle.
A gigantic infographic featuring the most devastating warriors of womanhood went up at Asylum. It took me 15 22 28 hours to make and is literally six feet tall.
Well-behaved women rarely make history, but they once made movies. From then, it's been a long, slow climb to today, where Hollywood actually allows women to blow things up on screen.
They've had to work twice as hard to get here, and five times as hard to make movies as bad as the ones men put out.
Keep reading to see our timeline of misbehaving women of the screen, from 1915 to today.
And now: the deleted designer's cut bonus footage:
Asylum asked me to do this chart, and though I like the aesthetic, I don't ever want to spend two days researching and composing this kind of ghastly material ever again. Combined with the Taser research the day before, I'm sure Google has my IP address flagged under possible animal offenders.
Anyway, here's the original article (their idea) entitled "Penis Size in the Animal Kingdom -- What Species Has the Biggest Equipment?"
Recently, scientists in the Falkland Islands aroused and measured the penis size of a dead squid. And while we're not ones to judge what turns some people on, we are ones to plug our ears and chatter "la la la la" when those scientists report that deep-sea squid are monstrously hung.
It did get us wondering if there were any other animals that, uh, cut humans down to size. So, we ranked the penis-to-body ratios of Earth's best-hung critters to determine where we fit into nature's penis picture.
Check below to see the results of our investigation.
This is the cleaned-up version that ran on Asylum, but I recommend the full version I posted originally.
Every morning, Maury Povich rises from a coffin filled with his native earth, puts on his human face and heads to work, where fresh victims wait to trade their dignity for a free paternity test.
After they've memorized the foul invective they'll hurl during the show's pre-taped introductions, they step into the studio lights of Maury's lair. And that's where we, the American audience, come in.
Read on to see the train wreckage that is a Maury Povich paternity testing episode, and help us keep it from happening in the future by remembering one simple fact about condoms: They're fairly cheap and easy to put on.
There, we just prevented 1,000 babies from ever being conceived. Take that, John Connor and Second Coming Jesus!
Happy news sends one fellow into a real-life synchronized dance number. That only happens in "Glee." (Does it happen in "Glee?" We don't have a girlfriend right now, so no one's ever made us watch it.) Only one thing's for sure -- when you dance this well, you'll have women lining up to drag you into a paternity suit.
Is it us, or, in this next clip, does the victory dance steal the mother's life force? She flees its effects, but is struck down before she can escape.
Not to be outdone, Aaron lands a solid backflip with no hands! And, apparently, no empathy.
Maury's official Most Outrageous Guest pioneered the "I'm not the dad" explosive acrobatics, but still fathered six kids. Branden finally realized creating human life isn't a Saturday afternoon hobby. It's a good thing he stopped having kids of his own volition, because he was one away from a court-ordered vasectomy.
Although it is pretty heart-wrenching when the betrayed father cries, here there was one pretty obvious tip-off: It's one thing not to question your child's complexion; it's quite another to believe you fathered a baby that adorable.
When my parents -- both writers and editors -- ask how my work is going, I think they always wait for me to announce I've begun work on the next great American novel. But usually I haven't because my work week is full of Photoshopping fake video game porn for my freelance clients. Meaning, I'm spoofing spoofs. On the internet. For milk money. The sanest thing to do is look at this as a lucrative hobby, or else a series of small grants to improve my Creative Suite skills.
We were heartened to find out porn spoofs have discovered video games with "Modern Whorefare: Call of Booty." Which got us thinking: What other video games are just begging to be parodied by the adult industry?
Read more to see the gamer porn we wish existed.
I wrote an article on National Anthem Fails for Asylum. It's awesome, and will make you love America. I heard the CIA is using it to undercut al'Qaeda's recruiting efforts, but I've said too much already. No I haven't: Trombone lengthening carrot ball tuna hat! Silly putty! Fotzpa overshoots Tur! There, now I've said too much.
The National Anthem is a challenging piece to sing. It's full of soaring notes, and there are three other stanzas no one ever learns because they're rife with imagery from the War of 1812, aka the One We Don't Study Because It Was a Tie.
To top it all off, our anthem is based on an English drinking song, so it wouldn't be disrespectful of you to have a couple beers before attempting it. Heck, a good drink might even be a necessary step in remembering the lyrics.
It certainly would have relaxed the vocal cords in these screeching and stammering singers, perpetrators of some of the anthem's worst renditions ever recorded (and then posted on YouTube).
Let's start with an uplifting one. Natalie Gilbert has a great voice, but she forgets the words. The supportive crowd touchingly cheers her on, but she remains flummoxed. She needs a hero. And because this is America, she gets one in the form of Mo Cheeks. Coach Cheeks can't sing, but remembers all the words. Together, they're the Voltron of national pride. People helping people: That's what this country is all about (and cheeseburgers).
Here's one for you to decide. Kat DeLuna puts her own spin on the anthem, and goes Texas-sized with it. She could technically be arrested for using that much vibrato in a state where dildos are illegal. Is this creative license or fibrillation fail? Discuss.
At least we've never been subjected to this collection of Dutch Idol rejects mangling Tina Turner. These Nederlanders DEFINITELY don't need another hero. And they don't deserve to leave the Thunderdome. The action starts at 2:25, but the rehearsal's worth watching so that if you're ever present at a breech birth, you'll know what to expect.
Finally, we'll leave you with a true professional. You could all learn from 6-year-old Courtney King.
Asylum's gone, but I never showed you this infographic I coolwhipped together with minutes to spare before its conclusion. Which explains the weird blurb on the Gwar caption and the pixelation on the skull icon.
There are more reporters cavorting with -- or against -- people in fuzzy animal costumes than you might think. I documented them for Asylum, because the work I do is important.
Local TV news generally thrives on sternly worded reports of mangled bodies. Even when the anchors get humorous, the punch line's always something dry and ambiguous, like "I bet you enjoyed yesterday's sunshine as well, Diane!"
Sure, Ernie Anastos might tell you to "keep f**king that chicken," but you can't dance to that the way you can to, say, a hurricane.
A couple of weeks ago, we showed you a courageous man in a bear suit defying the wrath of both nature and the local news team. Here is that man again, because if you don't want to see hurricanes, news-bombers and portly bears twice, then you, sir, are no kind of fellow we want to drink with.
Archiving the lamented, lost Asylum articles (remember way back a week ago when that site still existed?) by re-running them here for your Prose Wednesday entries. I catalogued some dastardly trick plays over at Asylum. Mostly by Steve Spurrier, who's no Coach Eric Taylor.
Football is a game that rewards brains as much as brawn. It's not enough to outrun or outsmash your opponent, you must also have a man where no one expects him to be (such as in a yoga class).
Make confusion your strategy and you'll almost surely end up running a trick play. Sometimes, it's as simple as concealing who has the ball. Other times, it goes all the way into the realm of verbal deception.
The trick play is inherently about gamesmanship, which is nothing like sportsmanship. If sports were video games, gamesmanship would be exploiting programming glitches. Original gamesmanship is the mark of a military genius, as well as a sure way to find out who the whiners are on the other team. Keep reading to see our favorite examples.
Recently Driscoll Middle School in Corpus Christi, Texas, found itself down 6–0, so the team lured opponent Wynn Seale into an off-side penalty. After their opponent was penalized five yards, Driscoll announced they were taking another five. The quarterback asked the center for the ball, which is, yes, technically a snap to begin the play, then marched past the defending Wynn Seale line before breaking into a run. The touchdown evened the score, and the game ended in what was either a tie or, according to The New York Times, a loss for Driscoll. Either way, the team now has a bigger audience than "Glee."
Something you might not know about me is I believe in the purity of two joys: Tyson the skateboarding bulldog, and The Muppets. So you probably won't believe me that this Asylum article wasn't my idea since it ends with both of those.
What's the Best Skateboarding Animal?
Also, I'm going to start archiving all my Asylum work here because AOL is stupid and canceled Asylum even though it's pulling terrific numbers. Why? Well, ad sales aren't what they'd like them to be, even though they're not recruiting any of the ads from similar sites like The Onion, Collegehumor, Cracked, etc. Where you or I would fire the ad execs, AOL decides to cancel the fun after its best month ever, getting named one of the top blogs, and beating most of their other house sites.
When we saw this skateboarding turtle, our first thought was that our dreams of sharing pizza with Xtreme Nnja Turtles was finally a reality.
Sadly, it turns out this sham-phibian is bound to his board by string. The cat seems pretty interested, though, which us thinking: What animals do like to skate? Read on to find out more.
If you look up "skateboarding cat" on YouTube, you'll get a bunch of bored kitties patiently gliding across the room under their owners' power. That's not good enough.
It turns out a lot of animals need help to thrash. Like this bunny. It's almost as if Usagi Slow-jimbo here has no interest in gleaming the cube. (We're kind of sticking with an '80s theme here.)
Even this owl, generally regarded as one of the cooler birds, has only a casual interest in the sport. It turns out owls are only interested in two things: mice and magic.
The most famous skating bird ever was Gordo the parrot, of whom no videos exist. Sadly, Gordo was birdnapped from his home in the spring of 2009, presumably by the increasingly desperate producers of "Air Bud." We do, however, bring you a skateboarding cockatoo. Finally! An animal skating under his own power!
Say, here's a plucky bird with his own pair of roller skates! Enjoy our friend Stewie, the skating eclectus parrot.
English bulldogs really, really love to skate. Maybe it's because they're so fat that running on their own power is too hard, but you put an English bulldog anywhere near a skateboard and you'll end up with some mobile adorability.
The list of skateboarding bulldogs goes on and on. There's Chief, Kobe, Darla, Frank and, in Japan, Bazooka, just for starters. The two most famous skating bulldogs are Tillman, the world-record-holding speed skater, and Tyson, who's personal BFFs with Oprah. Tyson is the original skateboarding bulldog and the bearer of all joy in the universe.
Tillman not only skates but also surfs and skimboards. His moment of glory, however, came when Natural Pet Foods built a one-story sculpture of him for a parade float.
Here they are enjoying a day at the skate park together:
As for the future? They've inspired several puppies, like Boddington:
And Dozer:
Though not a bulldog, Extreme Pete is the Tony Hawk of skateboarding animals. (Sadly, we could find no evidence of skateboarding hawks.)
Conclusion? Dogs win. Try to prove us wrong.
Asylum asked me to Photoshop you some porn spoofs for video game titles. So I did.
I have SFN art to letter, but I haven't been able to get near my files all week, so let's pretend it's Prose Wednesday. Hannibal will return tomorrow.
I just compiled some clips of the Maury Povich show on Asylum. It was a dark tour of the uglier corners of human selfishness.
You can read the final, fairly lighthearted version on Asylum's website ">here, but I thought I'd post a rough cut of the version I came up with, because I started it thinking Maury was at least a decent, compassionate fellow, and ended it wanting to punch him in the face for basically extending a chance for poor people to save the cost of a paternity test if they're willing to shame themselves. Guests are encouraged to ham it up, and they're given scripted attacks to deliver on each other in those opening segments describing their situations. Everyone is awful, or pretends to be awful, and the few decent folks are usually the ones getting burned. It's a freakshow pretending to be sympathetic, which isn't a great way to treat vulnerable people, even if some of them are jerks. And it's especially a lousy way to treat single mothers, whatever their behavior was that got them to that point.
Every morning, Maury Povich rises from a coffin filled with his native earth, puts on his human face, and heads to work, where a fresh supply of victims waits to trade their dignity for a free paternity test. After they've memorized the foul invective they'll hurl at one another in the show's pre-taped introductions, they step into the studio lights of Maury's lair. And that's where we, the American audience, come in. (If you're not American, we assume you're here to let the comments section know how glad you are to live in Your Country Here, where life is better, but guess what? Pizza isn't. America wins again!)
While not technically a "talk show" since most of what everyone's yelling is bleeped out, the program has talk show qualitites, like exploiting people's miseries, pretending to care about them, and shaming a generation of children when their classmates find clips on YouTube of their dads wishing they'd never been conceived because their mothers slept around. Maury's show has a particular preference for women who run offstage in shame -- because it's one thing to have unprotected sex with three men in a month, but four is quite embarrassing. It's also notorious for getting men to dance, something it normally takes a one-two promise from a beer in the hand and sex in the bush to achieve.
Read on to see the train wreckage that is the Maury Povich paternity testing episode, and help us kill it by remembering one simple fact about condoms; They're fairly cheap and easy to put on. There, we just prevented 1,000 babies from ever being conceived. Take THAT, John Connor and Second Coming Jesus!
Since this show does for the human soul what BP did for the Gulf of Mexico, let's ease in with a semi-uplifting clip. Corey's more mature at 15 than most guests are at 30. The only things he has in common with most men on this show are a doubt about paternity and living with his parents. After this it gets worse before it gets better, and how often do you hear that about a clip that ends with a 15-year-old single mom wailing in despair?
Now for a more typical clip, in which a struggling 3.5 on the MILF Richter Scale calls out her ex, who's engaged to a potato-shaped woman. The male guests are perpetually engaged because weddings require cake, and no cake can survive a woman whose self-esteem unites her with a guy who ferociously berates an ex-lover as a "whore" on TV. Remember you always, sir, that a gentleman shatters a woman's character in private, and in hushed tones.
Okay, so maybe we went ad hominem too quickly. The point is, just about everyone here is coached to act badly, except for the naturally awful people, like Valchas here. His poor mother is mortified by his behavior, so it's a net win for two of the 21 kids ascribed to him when they lose a lousy father but gain a great grandma.
Take a cue from Maury's most outrageous guest of all time. Pioneer of the "I'm not the dad" explosive acrobatics, Branden finally realized creating human life isn't a Saturday hobby. It's a good thing he stopped having kids of his own volition, because he was one kid away from a court-ordered vasectomy.
Willie is a man who handles his business. He works hard, stays faithful, and when betrayed, efficiently divorces his wife and claims custody of the children. He also leaps from his chair with enough force to scare China's radar operators. But you would too if your spouse took you on TV to reveal she'd cuckolded you 200 times. He didn't like it, so he took a ring off it.
Ethan's a more forgiving soul. After five infidelities, he hangs his loyalty on his patronhood and stays with his lady. Still, a five-time cheater? That's like a Forget Valentine's Day Free card. That or he should be allowed one (1) child with a girl hotter than her.
The biggest man of all? James, who forgives his wife and his own brother (who turns out to be the real father) for the sake of the kid. He's more forgiving than most Popes. Still, that's going to make for one awkward Thanksgiving.
The family that sticks together for the baby's sake.
Telia appeared on the show 9 times, and gloated over Dion that he must be the Dad. The test results literally knock him out of his seat and catapult her across the stage, but the real victim is the audience member who gets left hanging at 1:24. Oh, and the child. Always, the child.
No male guest was so excited to be free of responsibility as Felix. He executed a neat backflip, which is more than most men do when their child's born, let alone disinherited.
It's Casie vs. Casey and the prize is paternity of triplets. TKO!
Happy news sends man into a real-life synchronized dance number. That only happens in Glee. (Does it happen in Glee? We don't have a girlfriend right now so no one's ever made us watch it.) Only one thing's for sure -- when you dance this well, you'll have women lining up to drag you into a paternity suit.
Terrence is not the father of Forever's child...again. That woman has run out of that hallway in shame so many times she has her own passing lane. But you know who should be ashamed, besides everybody in the studio? Terrence. If you know the water's poisoned, why go back to the well?
Someone set this clip to the Final Fantasy level-up music. Does that mean he goes from rogue to playa?
If only someone would just spare all these people the public humiliation and release an inexpensive paternity test. They could even get Povich as its sponsor. Oh, wait: someone did. The test is a joke, but Povich's endorsement is all too real.
Asylum had me make a chart of a statistician's CBA for modern dating. And then they killed the feature, which -- since it's someone else's work, I can't recycle on you elsewhere and pretend I made it specifically for CHEAP DATE QUARTERLY. So enjoy this Bankshot-exclusive chart that may be news to you, unless you're Ian Stanczyk.
Our buddy Ian Stanczyk recently broke out the actual cost of dating, but we here at Asylum have trouble with complex concepts like "opportunity costs," "disposable income," and "real-life woman." To make things simpler, we rendered his ten-dollar, fancy-pants statistics into a simple graph for the average nerd. Make clicky on the "Keep Reading" button to watch your costs accrue.
A thankfully aborted sketch of Wonder Woman that was going to be done for an Asylum article. I was trying for Andres' style, but I'll never be 1/36 as good as him.
I shouldn't have taken this assignment. I forgot that I'm a shaman, and by the time Asylum killed the article, it had come true.
Anyone who's ever endured a long-distance relationship knows how much modern telecommunications have helped a couple stay in touch throughout the days and weeks. But it can also add a strain, as heartfelt statements are reduced to a squawk of abbreviations. It's Post-It Note love for the 21st century. Click on to watch an entire romance unfold in 160 characters or less.
You see this? I toiled over these lousy posters so that Nick Nadel would have a challenge to write something good about them. And lo, he stepped up to the plate and knocked out a home run. Or maybe a triple, which is actually harder to pull off.
Anyway, if you want to see what Tracy Morgan looks like as the Noid, or the Burger King in a Fellini film, enter, fair stranger.
With a tip of the name to my colleague and collaborator Steven Grant, here's a wholly biased pro-New York Comic-Con comparison to San Diego, even though NYCC still owes me a refund from their first year.
And now I'm presenting it again for you as a prose wednesday entry because even the internet goes into reruns sometimes.
We're big believers in competition. It's the American way. And there's no place more cutthroat than New York.
That fact likely explains why some enlightened geeks prefer the New York Comic-Con (starting today) to the bloated San Diego institution. With recent mutterings about mainstream Hollywood culture co-opting the nerdfest for its own commercial uses, more loyalists are sure to defect to the East Coast.
Read on to see why New York Comic-Con is our new favorite convention in this completely biased, unfair comparison.
Lubricant! That magic potion that keeps your partner's orifices interested in what your body's talking about is mysterious stuff. It's water, but it's sticky; it's alcohol, but it dissolves. Here's a breakdown of how that 
The makers of 5-Hour Energy Shot claim it delivers all of the rush with none of the crash that accompanies high-sugar energy drinks. So what's in there to keep you alert?