Archive for July, 2010

Darkness Falls On Gulla Gulla Island

Posted: July 21, 2010 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , , ,

I want to do something different!

(What? – ed.)

I’m tired of just giving “how to” lists and being drunk all the time. I want to do something a little more creative this time around. Something with some literary merit.

(You have to be joking. You’re a comedy writer on a tiny-ass website in the middle of nowhere…and you’re wanting a change in direction? – ed.)

No, not totally. Just this once. I have a story that I need to tell. It must be told.

(Fine. If I let you do this one, will you shut up and do your job next article, laugh monkey? – ed.)

Yes.

(Fine. Knock yourself out. Literally I hope, but… – ed.)

Sweetness. Our story begins…
—–
Long ago in the far off time of the mid-1990s, there existed a place in this world with a happy, cheery joyful exterior where children could run and play to their hearts’ content without fear of punishment or violence. Yet in this land was an underbelly seedier than a pile of watermelon vomit after a big drunken Fourth of July party. This land…was Gulla Gulla Island.

(Oh God no. – ed.)

Fine. You want to bitch? Fine. I’ll just watch a couple partial episodes and comment on them. You ass-bastard.

(Fine. – ed.)

Fine.

Video 1:

00:00:30: Alright, it’s the intro to the first one. Huh. I bet that guy wanted to be like, the next Louis Armstrong or Lou Rawls, and then some ass talked him into doing this show, and his dreams died. I just bet that’s what happened.

00:00:45: “Come..and…let’s play together…before I go out behind the production truck and put a .45 to my temple and pull the trigger until it goes click” were ACTUALLY the lyrics but…it didn’t work out so well with test audiences. True story.

00:01:30: “Show him this,honey.” What did he get SHOWN? “Oh GOD! It’s like Goatse in black and white!”

00:01:40: “Well if that worked, I’ve got an even better plan!” *shiver* That’s gross. Beastiality is a no-no.

00:02:20: “What do Binya Binja pollywogs like better than anything?” How about FUCKIN’!

00:02:25: NO! “Playing with kids.” Of course it was.

00:02:30: And now they’re going to SHOW you what fun he had playing with you and the kids? Really? It’s like evidence at a rape trial! That seems unnecessarily sadistic. Like not even “Hey kid, this animal raped you” but “We’re also going to show you what he did to your asshole when you were sleeping”. Unnecessary.

00:03:45: Oh God. They’re circling Binya Binya like some ancient pagan cult. Run, pollywog! They will remove your heart with stone daggers while it’s still beating ! They went “loop-de-loo” around the fucking thing.

00:04:40: Annnnnd mocking epilectics. Fucking class there, Nick Jr.

00:05:20: Let’s try to get him to move around a bit? Seriously? You know how they do that with animals? THEY SHOVE A GODDAMN CATTLE PROD UP THEIR ASSES.

00:06:15: This is getting…weird. “Remember the day it rained and rained and rained? That’s the day Shaina and I sat by the window and she slowly ground herself to her first orgasm on my knee”

00:06:30: OH JESUS. IT MIGHT HAPPEN. HE MADE HER STRADDLE HIS KNEE. I instantly regret my choice of jokes.

00:06:40: Oh God. Just watching this makes me feel a little ill. He is way too touchy of a man. The fear on her face is palpable!

00:07:10: WHAT? WHAT? She just asked for it! She wants him to finger bang her! She would not request it otherwise.

00:07:15: And he READJUSTED HER to a more comfortable position. This is SO SEXUAL, IT’S INSANE. I feel like I’m watching a crime video.

00:07:20: I don’t even want to know which waterspout he’s talking about. Not anymore

00:07:30: …what the HELL? “Sing with your fingers, Daddy.” How can he RESPOND to that? “You got it honey. Now let’s get those Winnie the Pooh panties down around your ankles.” It’s the Island! It makes me do terrible, terrible things.

00:07:37: Oh thank goodness. This one is over. Wait, there’s a second one? BLAST AND DAMN!

Video 2:

00:00:10: No intro this time. That may be for the best. Oh shit. That kid is going to take a gat and driveby the shit out of Binya Binya. I see it.

00:00:20: IS THAT A FUCKING GAS CAN?! Is Binya going to torch the place and leave no witnesses?

00:01:10: “Okay well I’m taking him up to my room to see my treasures.” Seriously? I can’t even say anything to that. Why would he be showing him his balls? I can’t HANDLE THIS. Who the FUCK wrote this script?

00:01:33: He is so fucking insistent that Greg come to his room. What does he HAVE up there? An extension cord and a broken broom handle?

00:01:34:That was a rape joke not a poor joke, by the way, but either way I’m okay with it.

00:01:40: Man, he is really laying into that Chinese kid. Like he wants to get his rape on SO BAD and this Chinese fucker is throwing his game.

00:02:20: After the “You know”, I thought he was going to confess that his piano teacher kissed him once. That would have been funnier.

00:03:00: And Greg Tyrannosaurus, big and strong sounds like a gay porn star

00:03:50: It’s so wrong, but the black kid crouched down like a monkey and swinging a club is killing me.

00:04:15: So they’re going to solve their problems by dancing? Dancing? What is this shit? The Michael Jackson “Beat It” video?

00:04:35: WHY THE ASSFUCK IS HE VOGUEING? You’re not Madonna! You’re a scrawny-ass little white boy!

00:04:45: I want to know who the fuck is in the Binyah suit. And where. the. suit. is. NOW. It probably has strategic holes cut in it

00:05:10: Wait. Wait. How does the knock knock joke END? You can’t just leave it hanging! Bastards!

00:05:40: “Now that everybody is finally gone, I can show you my real treasures!” That’s how you’re ending this? REALLY? You’re ending it on an ambiguously sexual note? What is wrong with you? Damn, yo.
——
I feel kinda sick now after watching those, just so you know.

(I bet you do. Was it worth it? – ed.)

Not really, no. With that, I sign off. I need to cry away the shame.

Rupert the Drunk Tries To Be Funny

Posted: July 14, 2010 by pred3000 in Uncategorized

From the depths of the bottle came one man inspired to do the most random things while slowly becoming smashed. To add insult to injury, he decided to track his progress. This man is named Rupert. These are his adventures:

OK, so the editor asked me to write something.  I am a day late, but whatever.  It’s hard to be funny.  You try it sometime.  Anyway, I need to think of some sort of article.  What about?  No.  What about…well, we tried that

1 min- OK, we need some beer.  I picked up some Heineken light, maybe that will help.

10 min-World Cup?  That just ended, I know.  But maybe we can do jokes about the final game?  Something involving Spain?  They won, right?  1-0?  Who the hell thinks that’s a sport.

15 min-OK, you know what, Spain.  We will focus about Spain.  Spain is funny.  Tacos are from Spain.  Tacos are funny.  Therefore Spain is funny.  That’s logic, bitches!

23 min-OK, we need more stuff about Spain. So far I have tacos, bullfights, and hookers.  What about a bull confusing a taco for a hooker?  Wait, how would that work.  Christ, I need more beer.

Editor’s Note: At this point, the beer started to kick in. Rupert spent eight minutes mutter about his hunger for tacos and his desire for hookers.  He went back to the article after a few minutes.

31 min-Why are certain things funny? Why are squirrels funny?  Funny squirrels.  I wonder if they could read minds.  I wonder if they put squirrels in tacos?  I want a squirrel taco.

40 min-OK I have….five hundred words?  Awesome, I think I’m done.  Time for a celebratory beer.  Damn these things always go..what’s that…the opposite of slow…quick!  These things always go quick

Editor’s Note: Rupert’s original draft was five hundred words consisting of “squirrels, tacos, hookers, bulls, soccer, those shaky wavy things that they shake when they dance, Spain is funny!” over and over again. We were forced to reject this draft, but could not convince Rupert to write another one as he slipped his pants onto his head.

1 hr-I am a Spanish soccer player.  I am a dancer!  Hookers love me.  I love beer!  It makes everything funny.  Watch me dance!

1 hr 15 min- Blarggh!

Editors note: We leave it to you whether or not Rupert managed to be funny.  We at Dan Eats Cat Food feel that he fell a touch short.

Dan Eats Cat Food Rocks Out With Scorpions

Posted: July 11, 2010 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , ,

Because we are a giving organization – and basically fold like a wussy gambler when it comes to any kind of pressure, we were “convinced” by KaosTheory to let him offer a special “Rock Out Report”, as he called it, after his concert that he went to. Since we have no real ideas left in the tank, we figured we might as well let him write something he wants to instead of having to deal with him crying and complaining and literally pissing in some random corner of our office that we won’t be able to find until the entire third floor is saturated with reek. So…we guess, enjoy this.
——
Woo. I have free reign to write what I want now! And what I WANT to write is ROCK. Specifically, ROCK from the concert I saw last night with Ratt and Scorpions. So let’s do this bitch.

Thoughts from dinner and preshow:
– It is best that Superfly and I did not sit at the bar in Rippy’s. The bartender was about 5’8″, brunette pageboy hair cut, tan, hot and had tits like two halves of canteloupe. We never would have left. We would have had drinks until we passed out. Jeesh.
– Cowboy hats are simply not metal. It doesn’t matter if Bret Michaels wears one. Once you get the amount of tail he gets, you can wear one and be metal.
– Superfly and I were skinnier than 85% of the attendees. This was both cool and depressing.
– Rednecks should not be allowed to create their children’s hairstyles. A forward mullet with white blonde hair is not a good look for a five year old.
– I would be interested to know why Asian dudes tend to be so damn spindly.
– Superfly tends to strike out when it comes to not sitting next to massively obese women.
– Ladies with lots of meat on your bones: sometimes a tanktop is a poor fashion choice. Sometimes backne needs to be covered.
– I swear on all that is holy that if I go to another amazing concert and some raging shithole in front of me spends most of it kissing and snuggling his girlfriend who clearly doesn’t want to be there or do stuff with him, I will kick the fucker in the head until his eyes roll back so I can see only the whites. There is a time and a place to be cutesy. A fucking legendary rock concert is not it. At varying points, I was willing to risk jail just to murder the bastard. And I can’t go to jail. I’m too pretty.

Thoughts on Ratt:
– Gotta say this. They rocked it. They really did.
– Ratt works a lot better as an opener than as a headliner band, I think. It may have been different back in the day but…
– Also, nobody really knows Ratt lyrics. They had some really fun songs but nobody really KNOWS them enough to sing along with them.
– It’s really sobering to hear the singer apologizing for not jumping around because he doesn’t want to bust his stitches. Stephen Pearcy, you still have the voice. Just…don’t remind us that you’re old.
– For all the restlessness the audience had going into the last ten minutes of Ratt’s hourlong set, Round and Round kicked the SHIT. Man. The energy level in the building just spiked as everyone sang along. It was pretty damn awesome.

Thoughts on Scorpions:
– First off, holy shit.
– Seriously. Holy shit.
– It’s going to take a LOT for any concert to be more pure awesome than this one was.
– Everything was about perfect about it, save Asshole McCuddles mentioned earlier.
– Call this a major damn check mark for my Rock Bucket List.
– These guys in their sixties can rock harder than ANY bands currently performing. I am fully in belief of that.
– This is how rock is SUPPOSED to be.
– Both my voice and ears and Superfly’s voice and ears were shot. Like we’re going to wear earplugs for freakin’ Scorpions. Yeah. Sure.
– Not even kidding. Holy shit.

Okay, let’s go through the set list with notes on all of those, huh?

Sting In The Tail – As soon as the lights went down, the arena erupted in cheers. They got almost deafening when the lights flared on and Scorpions took the stage. While this wouldn’t have been my first choice for an opener (that would be Blood Too Hot from Unbreakable), they rocked this enough that everyone was going nuts. We all stood up when they came on. We didn’t sit down again.

Make It Real – This was a great followup song. Everyone knew it so we sang along (which would continue for most of the concert). The stage also had an extended runway and ministage in front of it. Every time the chorus came along, Rudolf Schenker made sure to charge up the runway and play in the middle of the crowd on the ministage.

Bad Boys Running Wild – This surprised me a bit. This is definitely one of their fun songs but the crowd was crazy for it. I did get all caught up in it which was awesome, though. I can still buy that these bad boys can run wild, that’s for sure.

The Zoo – One of my favorite Scorpions songs to begin with, they rocked the hell out of this. The awesome vid screens they had behind the stage were flashing red and black bars with “THE ZOO” occasionally, not to mention the women in cages clawing and writhing. Yes. You read that right. Great song though.

Coast To Coast – Man, this one was awesome. This is an instrumental, which gave Klaus Meine a break for his voice, which by the way is still as high and amazing as it was at the beginning of his career. But there’s this one chord shift by the guitars in this song that I already love but…goosebumps. Legit goosebumps. Everyone felt that too because it got a nice big reaction.

Loving You Sunday Morning – I haven’t heard this song a whole lot. It’s not my favorite of theirs, but in concert and with a large, excited crowd around us, it was great. Very pretty, very fun. Not a whole lot more to say for this one. It was a bit of a shame that I didn’t know it well enough to sing along.

The Best Is Yet To Come – Wow. Just wow. This song is ALREADY emotional due to the context – being the last song of their last CD ever and talking about how the future is still wonderful even though they won’t be there as a group anymore. It just increased tenfold when you have an entire arena near tears at this legendary group retiring. The “hey-a hey-o” ECHOED throughout the arena. Echoed. Every single person in there was singing that at the top of their lungs. I got all verklempt. Not even going to lie. It wasn’t the toughest emotional though, even with that.

Send Me An Angel – THIS one was. Holy damn. They all came out and did this acoustically on the ministage which would have been tough as it was. However, they did it as a tribute to Ronnie James Dio. It’s a gorgeous song anyways. I may have shed a tear or two. That and thrown up massive horns both for Scorpions and for the dearly departed God of Rock.

Holiday – Man. Now this one was a good one. For those who don’t know this song, it starts off nice and slow until it hits a little long, stretched out bridge then comes exploding in in legit hard rock. It’s one of the most awesome parts in music ever. They…just wow. Meine stretched the little bridge out and let the crowd sing along. After a minute or two, they went silent to let the crowd echo around them. Then when “Longing for the sun” part came in, there was a massive drum entrance to rip into the rock. It was amazing. Legit rockbumps on my arms.

Raised on Rock -Transitioning from Holiday would have been tough for anyone. Not for these boys though. Meine yelled and I quote “I don’t know about you, Nashville, but we were RAISED ON ROCK!” which for anyone else it would be cheesy. Not this time though. It was just awesome. Crazy energy in the crowd. It’s like they ramped up the adrenaline.

Tease Me Please Me – Again, not one that I know. Sadly. It’s just not one I’ve listened to enough to really get the lyrics engrained in my head. It didn’t really matter though. Everyone sang along with it again which eventually managed to get me hooked into at least being able to do the chorus which was worth it enough.

Dynamite – Oh my God. Raised on Rock was insane. Holiday was insane. But this one? Dynamite? This had nothing less than absolute batshit energy. Nothing less. It was tough at times to even hear the vocals because of the pure rock in the place. Absolutely nuts. If you weren’t hyped up during or after this song, you had to – HAD TO – be fucking clinically dead. Seriously.

Kottak Attack – This was a fun little thing. This was done, I think, to give the Schenker, Jabs, Maciwoda and Meine a break from rocking out for a little while, so this was about a five, seven minute drum solo of a bunch of the different drum parts throughout their years of CDs. Kottak is freakin’ crazy but he was great. He played really well, chugged a beer, made sure that we knew that we kicked ass and stood on top of his drum kit which was, I may have neglected to mention, elevated on a platform a good ten feet above the stage. He definitely entertained.

Blackout – Because clearly the concert wasn’t awesome enough, after Kottak’s song, the drum set elevated even MORE and the rest of the group ran on from under the raised drum set. I mean, literally ran on stage from UNDER THE DRUM SET. I don’t think anything else needs to be said here.

Six String Sting – This ruled too. Matthias Jabs came out to the ministage and basically played for five minutes, soloing and trying to get different parts of the crowd to respond. It worked very well. Everyone was cheering by the time he was done. But he wasn’t done…

Big City Nights – He transitioned right into this one. It was awesome, although awesome isn’t really a word for it. As soon as he changed from the solo into the first chords of the song, the arena went berserk. EVERYONE sang along. Everyone. Old, young, middle-age, my age. Doesn’t matter. EVERYONE was belting along with this one. I didn’t think the energy could get any higher but it DID. This was insane. Once they finished – with Meine standing on the shoulders of Jabs and Schenker – they ran offstage and the stage was lit only in purple. That alone would have been a great end. But of course, it could not be the end.

Encore:
Wind Of Change – They came back on after a couple tense minutes of waiting for an encore. Again, not a song I particularly know, but it’s very pretty, everyone sang, and it was a very socially important song, since it was played when the Berlin Wall came down. It was a pretty easy one to pick up too. It was great. I was a little sad because I thought they had skipped a song off their previous playlist. However, I was wrong.

No One Like You – This is the one I thought they skipped. They didn’t. Meine yelled into the mic “Thank you Nashville! There is NO ONE LIKE YOU!” which brought about a huge roar from the crowd, me included. The stage was all lit in blue but nobody seemed to even see the color. Everyone sang, everyone rocked, everyone cheers. It was fantastic.

Rock You Like A Hurricane – I mean, what the fuck can I even say? Biggest song of the night by FAR. If there were people not singing Big City Nights, they were sure as shit singing along with this one. Holy God. I still have rockbumps from this one. You cannot ask for a better closer. You can’t. Rock You Like A Hurricane is one of the few songs I would consider perfect in this world. Unbelieveable.

So that’s that. Scorpions basically blew Superfly and me out of the water. Nothing will be better than it. It was literally the best thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve been facefirst in TITS, so you know that means something.

Anyways, I’m going to sign off before Ed bitches at me. Deuces and rock, mothas.


Let’s be honest with ourselves here. We all want to make money, preferably enough so that we can live comfortably in a McMansion with a pool and a moderately hot trophy wife for the rest of our lives. There are plenty of ways we can do that too. For example:

I could play sports, except I’m a short, unathletic and somewhat flabby white boys. Suitably well-endowed though, of course.

I could play the stock market shrewdly, except I’m not smart enough or business-savvy enough to do that. Besides, with the way this economy is now (hopefully not at the time you’re reading this), I would better suited to throwing my money in a pit, crapping on it and setting it on fire because at least that way I’m screwing myself.

I could rob a bank, except I just watched Heat last night and while that movie was phenomenal, it reminded me that I would have to set aside all emotional attachments that I wouldn’t be able to run away from in thirty seconds if the “heat” was on and frankly, I just can’t do that. I’m a lovers, not a fighter. Well, maybe a fighter too but taking a shotgun blast to the Don Johnson just isn’t the most palatable of options, which you surely can understand.

Hell, I could even become a hooker, except…come on. Like I’m going to get paid to play Naked Twister with anyone other than the Hutt clan.

No, all those get-rich-quick schemes will do nothing save provide a wacky montage for the funeral videos of my life after I suffer some sort of physical mishap while in the line of duty and suffer severe internal bleeding to the point where they have to dose me up with morphine until I can’t feel a thing as I drift into the nothingness.

(That went a little dark, KT. – ed.)

The point is really simple. If you want to make an obscene amount of money (literally obscene…I’m talking shaped like a porn star’s Statue of Liberty), the easiest way to do so is to tap into the most easily exploitable demographic aside from that of…well, I’ll just say those that are incredibly entertained by shiny objects: teenage girls.
Now, it’s been scientifically proven that teenage girls have the equivalent intelligence of a pile of lightly warmed tofu, the self-confidence of a molting owl with depression and the emotional stability of a three-level house balanced on top of a toothpick with a crack down the middle. Besides that, however, they have loads upon loads of disposable income from negligent and/or indulgent parents. That is money that rightfully can – and should – be yours! Here’s how to get it:

Write. A. Book. Not just any book, though. You can’t write a crime novel or a science fiction book. Teenage girls aren’t going to want to read stuff like that. God forbid you even try to write something a little more deep and meaningful. That’ll blow by them like…something fast. No, gentle readers. I’ll give you some hints as to how to write the perfect teenage girl book.
——
First and foremost, if you are in any way a self-respecting, thoughtful auteur dreaming of a world where you produce thoughtful, well-critiqued material, kill any notions of respectability you may be hoping for. Seriously. Just put them out of your head right away. You are not aspiring to be a Tom Wolfe or a Michael Chabon or a J.D Salinger or a Kurt Vonnegut or, fuck, even a Michael Crichton or, God forbid, a Dan Brown (yes, I like his books, yes, I am aware they aren’t wonderful). You are not trying to become a critical darling, a hero to the disenfranchised poor. You aren’t trying to prove a social point. You’re writing for teenage girls. Let’s be serious: fucking COMPREHENSIBILITY is optional.

Next up, you are going to want to outline a basic – very basic – plot. I know, I know. This sounds like a difficult thing and in most cases, you would be right about it. However, remember your audience. Twists and turns and intrigue are going to only confuse and scare them. Having any kind of plot detail that’s not expected will make them throw your book away in disgust which, if they’ve already paid for it, I guess you don’t need to give a shit about. Still, refrain from anything too challenging or, honestly, challenging in any way, shape or form. If you want to make the money, give them what they want. Which leads me to the next point…

You should make the main character basically an empty shell for the reader to inhabit. This part WILL be tricky, especially if the first point is tough for you. It takes a lot of effort to write a character with no inherent personality. Most writers want to create the very OPPOSITE. What you need to remember is that you are essentially writing a “choose-your-own-adventure” book except without the choosing. You are writing the equivalent of a rail shooter for video games. While you can’t REALLY give her no personality – and yes, it MUST be a her – you can basically create one that is around 70% of the population: shy, brooding, self-conscious, isolated-feeling, abstinent and scared of her budding sexuality, and unconscious of her beauty (okay that last one doesn’t really apply to like…any of that population but you have to play on that feeling). Speaking of which…

You absolutely attempt to tap into that insecurity of teenage sexuality. Middle and high schools are a raging mass of hormones and nerves. Let’s get that out of the way right away. That is a phenomenal source of plot points. All of them want to have sex with all the rest of them but the vast majority are too frightened to acknowledge that their ladyparts are all a-tingle over the quarterback or the lead actor or whatever. Actually, hold that thought.

Definitely try to create a love triangle with the main character as the lynchpin. Think about it. For this reader surrogate, what is going to be the most unconsciously fulfilling situation? Is it working hard for good grades? No. Is it maintaining a solid friendship with her female friends? No, although that is also a plus. Is it staying out of trouble? God no. Is it being the object of lust for two attractive, yet sensitive, yet sexually non-threatening, yet sexual, yet thoughtful, yet flawed, yet perfect boys? Now you’re thinking with your ovaries. You can write this whole situation however you like, but it works best if one is the best friend that she never saw in that sexy light before while the other is the bad boy new kid who excites her in new ways. If you really want to keep their Hello Kitties rainstorming, keep that sexual tension building throughout however many books you want to exploit them through, providing no relief. You bastard.

As with the current trends, why not try experimenting with supernatural forces? You know. Take some long-held monster and transform it in new and bullshit ways in order to romanticize it. Vampires have been taken. So have werewolves. Zombies are a little too out there. You could try mummies but they’re all decayed ‘n’ shit. Creature from the Black Lagoon? Potential. Maybe it’s not a hideously deformed fish-face creature bent on bringing a woman back to its lair for awful breeding purposes. Maybe instead it’s a hot guy that can breathe underwater and sits in his cave being all contemplative while playing his guitar. Oh God. What have I created?

Next, watch as this book, this abomination of a work, goes multimillion and becomes a successful movie franchise. This is kind of the natural next step. With all that stuff in there, there is no possible way that your book isn’t going to become almost uncomfortably popular among girls you can’t fuck anyway and older women who have lost the passion in their marriages or *shiver* their single lives. You will become a sex symbol yourself.

Finally, you only have one thing left to do. Drink yourself to death. What you have done to literature and to the film world is not on the level of Stalin or Hitler, but pretty much fucking Pol Pot all over. You have committed an unspeakable act. Your shame will live with you for the rest of your life. Or it should…

STEPHENIE MEYER.

Yes. You are Stephenie Meyer. You evil fuck.
——
(You seriously did this just to condemn one person? – ed.)

Yup.

(Eh. No problem here. You got something up. ‘Til next time, people. – ed.)