Posts from — December 2007

The other night I got a phone call. I thought it was a telemarketer.

“Hello Chris?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It is God. How are you doing today?”
“Ok that is funny. I have to admit nobody ever used that one before…”
“No really it is me. Look outside. You now have a Porsche.”
“Wow that’s awesome! I guess you do exist.”
“Yup.”
“Hey the Porsche is gone, and my old car is back.”
“Sorry I couldn’t let you keep it. Those are the rules.”
“Aw man.”
“Be glad you aren’t Job.”
“So God, why are you calling me?”
“I was hoping you would be interested in donating money towards creating a family-oriented recreational center at the site where Eden used to be.”
“You want to make Eden into a theme park?”

“Well let’s not call it that. I prefer the term experience.”
”You can’t do that you are God! Exploiting people is for humans to do.”
“Where do you think you got that from, your mother’s side?”
“Hmm.”
“Look ten minutes ago you didn’t think I was real. Now you are trying to tell me how I should run things?”
“Ok ok.”
“Besides, it is not like I just started doing this. The Bible, for example is a collection of stories that already existed in earlier cultures.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying that you recycled old stories, repackaged them and mass marketed the whole thing?”
“Guilty.”
“Wow.”
“So, about that donation…”
“Do you take Visa?”
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The banjos are warming up. The gauntlet has been bought on E-Bay by Renal Failure and thrown down. Days of bitter verbal sparring has boiled over into all-out blogging Armageddon.

The Huey-pocalypse has finally happened.

In this corner we have Diesel and his claim that Huey Lewis should be back on the radio after years of being relegated to stations with names like ‘Bill’ or ‘Frank’. Nothing like having the songs you wrote and sang being sandwiched between ‘In Da Club’ by 50-Cent and ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ by the Monkees.

To be fair Huey Lewis is loved mostly by people who grew up in the 1980’s with parachute pants, muscle shirts, and bandanas. Apparently that was Diesel’s wardrobe in high school. Still, the children of the 80’s continue to show up to Huey concerts so there could be some merit to his side of the argument. Too bad they also arrive wearing denim jackets and leg-warmers.

Leading the Anti-Huey side is elasticwaistbandlady aka ‘The Smiling Infidel’. She holds to the ideal that Huey’s talent level is so low he shouldn’t even be on a reality television show.

While researching her side of the argument, there was this repetitive music playing in the background on her blog. It was some crappy song with twelve original lines by Shane Nicholson.

While the Smiling Infidel may not be qualified to criticize music taste when a Wham Christmas song plays in the sidebar, she does make a valid point that people need to let go of music from the past.

The stakes are high in this Huey vs Shane battle for musical mediocrity. If Huey and Diesel come out victorious, and I quote:

“If the Power of Love conquers all, the Erratic Infidel must do a post unreservedly lauding the genius of Huey Lewis. She must also proudly display my “Huey Lewis needs your help” banner on her site for all of 2008.”

If elasticwaistbandlady and the Anti-Huey forces win the day, this is what will happen:

“In the unlikely event that the Heart of Rock & Roll stops beating, I (Diesel) must post a retraction of my Huey accolades and then never mention Huey on this blog again.”

You’ve heard the arguments for both sides. You know what is at stake. The only thing left to do is vote. Wham Christmas songs and Shane ‘you learn my songs like multiplication tables’ Nicholson or doo-wop until you vomit.

The choice is simple.

The poll ends at midnight Pacific Standard Time, Monday December 31st.

*Polling has now closed*

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Welcome to another edition of Bloggers Speak where Angry Seafood interviews the authors of humor blogs. We are joined today by Theresa from the humor blog ‘The Rain in Spain’.

Chris: Welcome to the feature Theresa. How are you doing?

Theresa: Well, it’s not raining and I have toilet paper, so I can’t complain.

C: What European country is the weirdest and why?

T: I would have to say Belgium. I mean, it’s a place that can’t figure out if it’s French or Dutch, and its best known symbol is a statue of a little boy peeing. How weird is that? Besides those chocolate boobies they sell everywhere kind of ick me out. On the other hand, it is the country that gave us Audrey Hepburn, so it can’t be all that bad.

C: Great taste or less filling?

T: Great taste, without a doubt. After all, I live in Spain. Can you imagine what diet Sangria would be like?

C: How can I tell if my rat is pregnant?

T: What, isn’t there a Rat Predictor? Of course getting a rat to pee on a stick might be kind of hard, so I guess you’re better off just waiting. After a while the question just resolves itself.

C: Do you ever wonder if you hate Paris Hilton, or if it’s just the jealousy taking over?

T: No, hate and jealousy are not quite the words I’d use to describe my feelings about Paris. Anyone who runs around without underwear to get people’s attention just deserves pity (and very cold privates).Besides, how could I be jealous of somebody who’s named after a hotel in France? No, I don’t think so. I can just imagine the conversations of the guys she goes out with:

“Dude, I just spent a night in the Paris Hilton!”

“Whoa, so what was that like?”

“Well, I was kind of disappointed.I mean, it’s supposed to be an exclusive thing, but these days almost anyone can get in.”

And when reading things like ‘Katie Holmes and Posh do Paris’ you can never quite be sure if they’re talking about a trip to the capital city of France, or another of Paris’ lesbian exploits.It’s pathetic really.

(Editor’s note: And hot.)

C: What do you have against leaf blowers?

T: Well, they’re stupid, loud and environmentally irresponsible.Actually, they’re a lot like many politicians…in other words, they blow.

C: Which are worse, Gypsies or the French?

T: What, do you mean in bed? Sorry, but I don’t have any personal experience to share, but I could set you up on a couple of dates if you want to find out for yourself.

C: If someone came up to you, said “gobble gobble” then walked off, what would you do?

T: I’d say, “Off with its head! That’s our Christmas dinner, don’t let it get away!” Nah, just kidding, we don’t eat people over here anymore….I think that went out of style with the Inquisition.

C: What does Spain smell like?

T: Well, now that Posh Spice has left it smells ever so much better.

C: Thanks a lot for taking the time to do this interview Theresa. Any parting thoughts?

T: Thanks for inviting me over Chris. I’m honored to find myself in the company of so many talented bloggers. Oh, and one more thing. Is the seafood angry because you’re about to eat it? If so, I’m really glad I’m not a lobster.

Theresa’s question for the readers:If God is omnipotent, then why didn’t he make the Universe in one day and rest the other six?
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Throughout the weekend, people speculated on who Idetrorce’s identity was and the results were all over the place. The latest Zogby poll came up with these stunning conclusions:

But anyone can fudge numbers or twist them to their benefit so how telling is this poll, really when it comes to figuring out just who Idetrorce is. Twenty-five percent of the country thinks WWE is real. Hell, people think Hitler is still alive. No idea how that one would work out being that Adolph would be like one-hundred-and-twelve years old.

What if Hitler was alive and using the comment spamming of Idetrorce to take control of the planet? You say come on, how can a one-hundred-and-twelve-year-old-man possibly create a spam bot but my reply is never underestimate people. Rocky Balboa boxed again and he was like fifty. Barry Bonds was able to hit seventy-two home runs at age forty-eight. You never know.

If it is not Hitler or Rocky, then who really is Idetrorce? They could be the person behind you in line at WalMart. They could be the creepy newspaper delivery guy. They could be living right next door to you, mere yards away from your family. Idetrorce could already be in your home.

How safe are you from Idetrorce? Do you really want to know?
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Idetrorce is a commenting Tour De Force. Ok, well maybe not on the level of a Yngwie Malmsteen or anything…

More like that guy from Warrant.

Like a Paris Hilton sex video, Idetrorce is sweeping the comment sections of blogs and websites with the same line:

“very interesting, but I don’t agree with you”
Idetrorce

Already he has appeared on Radioactive Liberty, Plooptionary, and has a newly-created user profile on Snowboard Magazine. People like her are starting to notice the mass commenting of Idetrorce.

One of the more interesting ones is on Slash Films about Star Wars Christmas Cards. A commenter writes just before Idetrorce’s standard reply:

“Jurassic Park wasn’t a Lucasfilm movie.”

As I write this I have just gotten word there has been a recent Idetrorce sighting.

Who is Idetrorce? Is he real?

Be sure to read ‘Idetrorce a Sign of the Rapture’ for the latest speculation on this phenomenon.

Make sure you check out Thursday’s Radioactive Liberty Guest Post: ‘Does Santa Claus Hate the Jews?‘. It’s sure to become a holiday classic.

humor-blogs.com has no idea who Idetrorce is either. Go there now to read funny things not about Bigfoot.

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They were not joking when they said the Mitchell Report on steroids in baseball had a veritable All-Star team. Here they are in all their glory. Of course you need back-ups in case any of these guys rips an artery during one of their multiple daily workouts.

Bench:

C: Paul Lo Duca

IF: Rafael Palmeiro
Jason Giambi

OF: Jose Canseco
Gary Matthews Jr.

P: Scott Schoeneweis
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Every few years some prominent baby boomer cleans out their attic, finds some anti-war crap they didn’t know they still had and yearns for the better days. This time it was Tom Brokaw’s turn and his book ‘1968’ which also aired as a special on History Channel recently.

1968 was a time of free love, change, and great upheaval. Free love leads to free hair growth however and nothing is less attractive then women with armpit hair. But the worst is not trimming the hedges, as the kids like to say. The last thing I want to see is what looks like Chewbacca in a leg-lock below the waist. Call me old-fashioned but I am a firm believer in the wood floor or the landing strip thank you very little.

Times like these always bring back fun fashion icons like tie-dyed clothing. The tie dye shirt is a great symbol of how the Boomers screwed Generation X. But man, those seats I got for the Sound Tribe Sector Nine show are killer dude! I’m gonna sit in the parking lot and sell stir fry and beer to all my other deadhead jobless friends. It’s so gonna rock!

We are talking about clothing that has every conceivable color in nature, yet doesn’t go with anything. Look, I am not saying you need to be anal about your color matching, just that you don’t want to look like you got dressed in the dark or have an extra chromosome.

And the concerts, my God, play a song already. I’m tired of ten minutes of what amounts to the band warming up. Sure you can call it a ‘jam band’. I call it ‘let’s see how long I can string out this one because everyone is so fucked up on drugs they don’t even notice the same song has been playing for fourteen minutes’.

This is the contribution 1968 has given to the world: songs that never end, women that grow body hair like werewolves, and shitty fashion.

No thanks Tom, I like 2007 much better.
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I do not know why I decided to throw away .000000000000001% of my life but I watched ‘Tin Man’, the SciFi Channel’s re-invention of the classic ‘Wizard of Oz’. I also did not know that the writers for the channel must have gone on strike months ago judging by the storyline.

I would warn you about spoilers ahead but that is like warning someone you are about to give away the twist in ‘Curly Sue’. (She dies by the way. Sorry)

Dorothy is now ‘DG’, short for Dorothy Gale. The tin man was found inside armor, but doesn’t wear metal. The Lion is now telepathic and is named ‘Raw’ as in “rahhhhh!” The Scarecrow looks like a Goth version of Ducky from Pretty in Pink. The suckitude gets worse so hang in there.

DG, it turns out is the original Dorothy’s daughter brought up on Earth by robot parents designed to be nurturers or something like that. The evil witch is actually DG’s sister and runs the dimension. The tornadoes are actually portals from Earth to Oz. The plot actually gets worse.

Oh yah and they call it ‘The Oh-zee’.

Toto is some black dude who has the ability to shape-shift, but he is actually a tutor. No, I don’t mean someone of a certain rank of regal-ness, but rather her teacher. ‘Toto’ was the cute name DG called him when she was a child and lived in Oz. Take a wild guess what animal he turns into most often.

The Wizard is still around but he’s crazy and being played by Richard Dreyfuss.

Our heroine is the only one who knows the way to the super emerald which controls the world I guess or something dumb like that. The Wizard has the tin man on his side to make sure she saves the day, and the witch has Black Toto on her side making sure DG makes it to the crystal.

They do other cutesy things like calling the Yellow Brick Road the ‘brick route’ for example. Asking for this crap to not be on television is like asking for macaroni and no cheese. No pun intended. Ok, yes it was.

I guess SciFi was out of ideas for a new Dune sequel.

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