Big Brother All Stars sucks. Balls.

There.

I said it.

Check It

Went and saw Bloc Party and the Secret Machines last night in an empty swimming pool in Brooklyn... McCarren Park Pool to be exact. Some OK pics, check em out. Go see both of these bands if you can, they were both amazing, per usual. Actually, Bloc Party was WAY better than last time I saw them. Secret Machines did not play as long as I wanted them too, but they were badass as well. Not as cool seeing them in the daytime as at nighttime, but still awesome. Mew played too, who I am promoting, but guess who showed up late for his own band....















Nowhere Again















Alone, Jealous, and Stoned















First Wave Intact.....AMAZING (per always)















Blue Light











































Seriously, go watch these guys, both of them, especially if you haven't seen them before. All of their new songs rock socks. Secret Machine's new album, 10 Silver Drops, is greatness. The new songs that Bloc Party played were quite nice as well. It was nice to hear "Tulips" in the 4 song encore. Look forward to it when you see them.

Ken Jennings is [still] my hero

The summer and fall of 2004 will always be memorable to me for two things: The Gestation of Elliot, and The Ken Jennings Show. I watched Jeopardy! religiously back then, and was a die hard Ken fan. Needless to say, I was crushed when Zerg beat him.

I actually wrote up a "Where is he now?" post about him a while back, but for some reason gave up on it. Now is apparently the time to resurrect the idea, however, as he is officially back in the news.

You may have recently heard that Ken was "biting the hand that feeds" him by mocking both Trebek and the great game show on his blog. Unfortunately, the purveyors of such slanderous misinformation have apparently never heard of satire. I always supposed that you had to have at least a vague familiarity with literary devices before you could become a journalist. Shows what I know.

Read his original post here. It's quite clever.

What am I saying? Of course it's clever - it's fucking Ken Jennings.

Ken Jennings is God.

Not quite the GUT, but...

I've got a working theory:

A woman's intelligence and/or level of class is inversely proportional to the thickness of her flip flop.

By thickness, I refer to the sole.

So far, the results of experimentation have been positive. I'll keep you posted.

Cast summon monster IX!!!

I order my comic books online from Westfield. You pre-order 2-3 months in advance, then they ship once a month. Not only do they offer an outstanding selection from a wide variety of publishers, but you can get a pretty decent discount off the cover price. Still, nothing beats a real, live comic book store. After living down here more than a year and a half now, I decided last weekend that it was high time I visited a local gig.

The shop I found was down on El Dorado. While their comic offering was pretty typical, it was clear to see that their real bread and butter was tabletop gaming. About two thirds of the wall space was devoted to Warhammer, Magic, AD&D, and the like. What was most impressive, though, is that there were tables set up where kids (and adults, I guess) were actually playing games.

Sure, when I was a kid I spent my fair share of Friday and Saturday nights rolling my 20-sided die and casting magic missile, throwing LAN parties for some Warcraft/Starcraft/Unreal Tourney action, MUDding, or just being a general nerd. But that was all fun and games and mostly just something to do before I discovered the joy of drugs.

These guys were fucking hardcore, though. I mean, it was obvious that they had invested massive amounts of time and energy into building up their armies or decks or whatever they were playing with, and that you could probably find them in that exact same spot just about every weekend. Such dedication.

I was almost jealous of them, that they had found themselves such an intense niche. After all, everybody needs a niche, and theirs was possibly the niche par excellence. The camaraderie was evident, as was the advanced level of strategery. I also got a warm and fuzzy feeling knowing that even social losers like those kids had a place to go where they knew that they were a part of something.

Anyway, I didn't find any comics I needed, then I went home and got drunk. How's that for a niche?

---------------

Not so much a niche as a way of life: Longhorn Football.

Dear [My Pseudonym Here],

Thank you for your ticket purchase. For future reference, your order confirmation number is XXXX. A summary of your order follows:


FBS - 2006 Football Season Ticket
==========================

North Texas
02 SEP 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Ohio State
09 SEP 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Iowa State
23 SEP 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Sam Houston State
30 SEP 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Baylor
14 OCT 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Oklahoma State
04 NOV 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Texas A&M
24 NOV 2006 at TBA
Darrell K Royal Memorial Stadium

Price Type Qty Price Fee Cost
------------------------------ --- -------- --------- ----------
LASP Season Ticket 1 60.00 0.00 60.00

Delivery Method: Print at Home

==========
Item Cost 60.00
Order Charge 6.00
Total Cost 66.00

ALL SALES ARE FINAL. No refunds or exchanges.

Placing this request does not guarantee fulfillment of tickets. All requests are processed according to UT Athletics Department priority policies. These policies are available at www.TexasSports.com. Please call the Athletics Ticket Office if you have any questions or need any additional information.

If you requested Student Football Season tickets, you will receive emails in August if your order is able to be filled that will include attachments for your Print at Home tickets. You will then be able to print your tickets on your own and bring these tickets to the games in order to be scanned for verification. Individual away game tickets will have to be picked up at the Bellmont Hall Ticket Office.

If you have any questions regarding your order, please email... yadda yadda yadda.

Hook 'em Horns

You're damn straight.

A puzzle

For years I've been trying to figure out what name has the highest percentage of hot chicks attached to it. In my research, I've been able to come up with a few finalists: Lauren, Ashley, Megan.

But what do you think, are there any other possible candidates?

Dog Beer?

Greatness.

I just got a geek boner

Snakes on a motherfuckin' plane

Fuck

I think we can add something to the drinking game.

I should have let Vince post about this

But I will take advantage while I can.

check it....there is a trailer now.














I feel 8 years old again

Deja vú

Because it's almost election time, this is news. Again. Guess I better tell you what's up. Again.

There are exactly two reasons why a person would be in favor of embryonic stem cell research.

1. They are naive.
2. They have an agenda.

The first applies to most Americans in support of ESCR. The most they know about the issue is what they hear repeated ad nauseum in the MSM. Allow me to paraphrase:

"Scientists say these stem cells will cure Parkinsons, Alzheimers, and bring about world peace; religious zealouts disagree."

So for the naive, it comes down to a science vs. religion thing, and we all know what the Average Joe will choose when the question is framed that way. How about a big "Fuck you very much" to the Enlightenment for that one?

However, these people are ultimately inconsequential to the debate. Those who are relevant are those who know the truth, but continue to support ESCR anyway - those with an agenda.

And a pretty thinly veiled one it is, at that. Of what benefit is it in being able to redefine (or undefine?) personhood at its earliest stages of existence? Gee, let me think...

As of now, abortion in itself is about the closest thing you can get to a guaranteed loser at the voter booth. Put it to ballot, and unlimited abortion fails miserably. The right to kill-ers know this, and so they are forced to come up with more and more subtle ways of convincing people that they are not committing murder when they kill their own children.

(Obviously, the first thing that comes to mind is the contraception culture that has by now been adopted almost unanimously. That alone is a HUGE victory for abortion advocates, but it is also a not the topic at hand).

See how subtle this sound... "An embryo is a ball of cells. Scientists create and destroy embryos for the purpose of research that will one day lead to "miracle cures". Unfortunately, sometimes embryos are created accidentally, albeit naturally in women. Doctors have the ability to destroy these unwanted embryos, or what they have grown into, while they are still in the womb."

You see what has happened. Most of the argument is one that is already currently in existence. The difference is that its normally dour undertones have been sugar coated. No longer is abortion just an unfortunate occurence; now it's actually beneficial to all of mankind when performed under the right set of circumstances!

So that's the method. It's easy enough to understand, sure. Still, I don't for a secong pretend to know the first thing about the madness - about why someone would advocate abortion in the first place. The whole concept is so repulsive, so inhumane, so foreign to human dignity, that it really is no wonder that those cultures that have fully embraced it are dying. Not only dying, but killing themselves.

The question is, will we learn the lesson?

Disappointment abounds

I'm in a shit mood today.

I Netflixed Basic Instinct 2 last night, hoping for some really raunchy spank material. The best I got to see was Sharon Stone's horrible boob job for a grand total of about 12 seconds. How worthless is that?

To make matters worse, I also bought NCAA 2007 for the 360 yesterday. It feels like NCAA 2001. How EA manages to take a flagship franchise about ten steps backward is beyond me. Oh yeah, and did I mention that all 360 games cost 60 fucking dollars?

Whilst I cry bitterly, Jake Shimabukuro's ukulele gently weeps...



This pleases me.

This is disturbing, or amusing, or both

Here are the things on which I am willing to expend valuable thought power:

• Deciding which book to read next
• Deciding which movie to watch next
• Deciding which sports Elliot will play when he is older
• Figuring out the best way to skip out of work early without getting caught
• Debating whether or not I would bang Chick X
• Synthesizing history

It disturbs me that people like these exist, and that they are willing to expend their valuable thought power on taking themselves seriously.

I Win

Not as cool as a plasma screen, but all I need for a good time just came via UPS today.















Eat your heart out Toonces with your awesome TV and son, Richard with your couch and college lifestyle, and Tito and Chris with your "Loved Ones." I got Criterion "Dazed and Confused" and "Bottle Rocket."

Obviously, vindication is the wrong word to use

Among the ranks of those who make an end to war their primary crusade, there are countless looneys and quacks. Justin Raimondo is not one of them. He is the atypical protestor, meaning he is both rational and sane.

I've been reading him since late 2002, and I think there are two ways to interpret his stuff:

A) He is the luckiest conspiracy theorist of all time in that there are volumes and volumes of evidence that circumstantially support his claims, and his predictions, by pure chance, just happen to come true - all the time.

Or, B) The man does his fucking homework, and he knows his shit. Well.

If you happen to have discussed the clusterfuck that is the Middle East with me in the past few years, chances are my arguments would have been almost purely Raimondian. And that being the case, chances are I would've already told you long ago that Lebanon-Syria was the next stop on the crazy train.

His last two columns serve as a great spot to jump in and get your feet wet. See how we got here, and where we're headed.

And if you are curious about little things like details, or the onus of proof, THE ISRAEL LOBBY AND U.S. FOREIGN POLICY is for you.

This nearly inspires me

I sometimes wish that I had the motivation to actually run around on Saturday mornings and look for cool shit at garage sales. It's obvious that there is lots of it out there to be found.

Case in point: since the beginning of the year, these guys have been looking for video game related stuff. They've documented all their purchases by week. You've got to check it out, it's unbelievable how much stuff they've found, and the deals they are getting.

Okay, I've decided that I'm going to start doing this.

Maybe starting next week...

[Via Opposable Thumbs]

"Let's start buildin' some... HURTIN' BOMBS!"

This movie is going to suck so much ass, but I can't wait to see it.

Plus, it's got the oneliner of the year.

ROCKY BALBOA

The one

A while back I asked Giz who the hottest woman in the world is. I wanted to know so that I could put a picture of her over there with Wesley on the sidebar. We never came to a consensus, but I'm settling it right now:

Marisa Miller

I don't think I've lusted over a woman more intensely than I have over her.

She will soon take her place of honor.

Belated 4th of July post

This is slightly late, but here is what I did on the 4th. Most of you probably know my fondness for the band Voxtrot. I had the privelege of going to a rooftop party, which they headlined on Tuesday. Got to watch the fireworks over Manhattan and whatnot, but they were not as good as the band was. Check it....












The free beaujolais wine, and cheap PBR, as always, made it a fun day. Especially at work the next day. All of you Texas folk, and you Austin folk mainly, NEED to go see this band. They are true greatness, and will not let you down, they haven't done it to me yet. Seriously.

My Life

Recognize this?

How about now?

That's right.

It is now officially 12:10 AM Friday night/Saturday morning, and Tito and I are watching the Big Brother 7 live feeds on the plasma.

Gay as AIDS.

To aid in the inebriation process, and in honor of our holy pontiff, B16, I've been drinking Theological Depth Charges. You take one part Bavarian beer and one part Benedictine liqueur, toast to Holy Mother Church, combine the two in violent fashion, and proceed to chug like there is no tomorrow.

Hear, hear.

Lets try this again....This Post Wrote Itself

Fuck

It's Friday afternoon. The kid's taking a nap, so I decide to catch up on a little reading. Inevitably, I fall right the fuck asleep.

No complaints though, because I have what may be one of the best dreams I've ever had. (Quick aside: why are nap dreams always so vivid and awesome?) Here's the way it played out -

I was working late, when I suddenly realized that I left a Netflix in the (fictional) DVD player up on 22. I run up to grab it. The hallways and everything are really dark. When I make it up to the (also fictional) lounge area on 22, there is a cleaning lady there.

Now, when I say cleaning lady, I mean a smoking ass hot, 20-something Mexican chick. We talk for a little while, and it occurs to me that this chick is totally down for getting crushed. Onto the love seat we move, and off my pants go, when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.

Who could it be but the MILF of all MILFs that works on 24. In the dream she was playing the role of some sort of matronly figure. For you see, she was accompanied by around 20 other hot young chicks, and no fewer than 3 sets of twins. She made the comment that no one moves on her girls without her permission.

At this, they all started to dance. Did I mention that these girls were all wearing halter tops and spandex ass shorts? She told me that most of them worked as strippers as well. I replied that I could see that. Several of them made the patented stripper eye contact with me, and proceeded to advance toward me.

It was at this moment in time that I realized that I was in the place I want to be when I die - a room full of women who not only get paid to get naked and rub me down, but to clean up after me as well.

It was also at this moment in time that my cell phone rang. It was my boss, with a question about some questionable volumes on the July reforecast.

Fuck.

Happy World Cupping, and drinking, this weekend.

Who will sing for Ken Lay?

The collective cynicism of the general populace is going to be off the charts very shortly.

He died of a broken heart!

!@#$%&*

So, Superman Returns... yeah...

I've got far too many criticisms than I can synthesize into a cogent whole, so I'll just try and stream them.

Superman is not Batman. Everything about this film was way too dark.

Posey < Perrine
Spacey << Hackman
Bosworth <<< Kidder - whoever cast this movie should be shot.

Superman is an angst ridden loser. All he cares about is getting Lois back, and acts annoyed more than anything when he has to save someone else. Fuck that shit.

Truth, justice, and the American way? Non-existent. Instead we get truth, and justice. Not even fucking kidding.

Joy? Non-existent. Instead we get fornication, female battering, and bastard children. Welcome to the 21st century, Supes!

The citizens of Metropolis seem to suffer from some sort of mass anti-pathos. In every scene involving a crowd watching Supes save the day, they somehow managed to look like they cared even less than I did - no small feat.

Metropolis looks like a dingy shithole. Has anyone on the production crew ever even read the comics?

Can we please move on from the Lex Luthor does real estate bit? Hackman could totally pull it off, tongue in cheek, in Superman: The Movie. Spacey trying it here, in earnest? Not so much.

Yes, the world is ready to see Doomsday now.

The script was shit. The ending was ass. They've really painted themselves into a corner for any type of sequel.

Were it not for the countless Donner throwback references (many of them verbatim, shot for shot scene recreations), I would've hated this movie.

As it is, I only really dislike it. It was a Superman movie completely devoid of the Superman spirit.