grabbed this marm (I don’t like the word “meme”) off the distinguished and fantastic Josh Fruhlinger, AKA The Comics Curmudgeon, and was just tickled pink with it. Here’s the poop:
Pick 15 of your favorite movies.
Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
Post them here for everyone to guess.
NO GOOGLING/using IMDb search or other search functions.
Feel free to answer in the comments, both of you.
“These the kind that blow up into the funny shapes?”
“Well, no. Unless round is funny.”
“I need unguent.”
“Everybody knows that Custer died at Little Bighorn. What this book does is, it presupposes the idea that … maybe he didn’t?”
“I can handle things! I’m smart! Not like everybody says!”
“I like this one! One dog goes one way, the other dog goes the other way, this guy’s sayin’ ‘Whaddya want from me?’”
“No. Try not. Do … or do not. There is no try.”
“The story opens on these mysterious explosions … Nobody knows what’s causing them … But they’re upsetting the buffalo!”
“Well, sir, you are a cowardly son of a bitch! You just shot an unarmed man!”
“Well he should’ve armed himself if he’s gonna decorate his saloon with my friend.”
“Yeah, well they can’t all be winners, kid!”
“There isn’t gonna be any more Jerky Beef!”
“Hey, careful, man! There’s a beverage here!”
“After my divorce from Luther I scraped by with babysitting gigs and odd jobs. Mostly the jobs we call ‘blow’.”
“Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?”
“I hope you were the groom.”
“Y’know, the Nazis had pieces of flair they made the Jews wear.”
Ladies and gentlemen, the man who truly made me realize that the truly scummy come in both red and blue leisure suits; the man with the hair of a fundamentally untrustworthy human being; the man who’s apparently on tape saying “I’ve got a fucking gold mine here, and I’m not gonna let it go for fucking nothing” — Ladies and gentlemen, Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich was arrested this morning for selling Barack Obama’s Senate Seat (the quote is in reference to same senate seat).
If you called Central Casting for a slimeball politician and they sent you Blagojevich, you’d send him back for being too scummy-looking:
Gov. Rod Blagojevich, known scumbag. (Photo courtesy Chicago Sun-Times.)
Apparently once it became clear he’d be in charge of appointing Obama’s replacement to the Senate, he kind of flipped out a little, drunk with the potential financial gain that came with that responsi–sorry, power. This is on top of a prolonged ongoing investigation of the guy for influence-peddling that’s been slowly closing around him for years.
In addition to all that, he was allegedly hard at work blackmailing the Chicago Tribune’s editorial board, making a bailout with state funds contingent on the paper not being so darn mean to him. Nice.
Have fun up the river, G-Rod. Ask George Ryan for pointers on getting the remote in the rec room.
So yeah, at some point that whole NaBloPoMo thing fell off a bit; these things happen. But! This is not important. What is important is that you read this story, in which two puppies save a three-year-old boy from freezing to death. It’s every bit as cute as it sounds.
People, I don’t have the space or time to properly list what I love about this city. But one of them is that we’ve got our own goddamn Thanksgiving Day Parade, and it’s a magnificent mix of big-city production values, local-news dorkiness, and genuine small-down WTF. I’m starting late, but this is our day morning, people.
- Started strong with a high school marching band whose name I didn’t catch, but who bring back dear memories of the T Connection from my alma mater, Dear Booker T. Washington High School, the Pride of the Great Southwest.
- Dude, a Puerto Rican civic group just marched down State Street led by a guy wearing one of those dip bowl-shaped Island hats, screaming emphatically, and waving two machetes in the air, clashing them together, and screaming some more. I love this town. Continue Reading »
I have the genius Witt to thank for introducing me to the Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, one of the funniest comics I’ve read in years. Not just the following panel, but the whole thing. I can’t say anything about it that it can’t show you more effectively; simply follow the link to hilarity.
In the very same liquor store that yielded yesterday’s dimly troubling mingling of lady and liquor, I ran across a similarly vexing fusion of distilled spirits and the rest of the world: a little miracle product named sniper vodka.
Much as it was with Vodka in Red, it’s hard to know where to start with this one. For one, there’s the mingling of semiautomatic weapons and hard liquor. There’s the minor technical quibble that, if one were, in the traditional sense of the word, sniping, an AK-47 might not be the very best weapon with which to proceed. There’s the barrel-to-butt leather strap*, which actually assures the purchasers that they will indeed be able to sling their liquor over their shoulders and march into the night, ready to bravely drop to one knee at a moment’s notice, take aim, and drink themselves into unconsciousness. And there’s the fact that, judging from the illustration on the decal, one is meant to be “sniping” deer with this product, or at least in concert with the consumption of same. (Does one “snipe” deer? Where’s the line between sniping and simply shooting? I mean, technically I guess deer hunting is about as close to actual STA behavior as anyone is likely to encounter in civilian life, but semantically it sort of brings to mind the idea of waiting for some high-value deer to leave his heavily guarded compound, holding your breath waiting for exactly the right moment to squeeze the trigger, silently ending a brutal chapter in some ungulate drug war. Or maybe it’s meant to place the purchaser in the role of some deranged John Hinckley Jr., waiting to drop some flashy celebrity deer — maybe the one who played Harry Potter’s Dad, or the one from the Challenge Butter box — in desperate hopes of impressing, like, Ted Nugent’s daughter or some shit. The mind, she boggles.)
There are no easy answers to the Sniper Vodka conundrum; the desperation of grasping for them leaves only a bitter taste in the mouth and a dozen more perplexing questions in its wake. In place of any real insight, I can only offer this countersuggestion: One would not have to purchase that many bottles of Sniper™ Premium Vodka to equal the cost of a bottle of legitimate vodka and an actual AK-47. Good night and good luck.
* — Remember when I typed the words “barrel-to-butt leather strap”? That was awesome. Also, huhuh. Huhuhuhuhuhuh. Huhuhuhuh. Huhuhuhuh. Huhuh.
Y’know, it never fails: You pop into the liquor store to stock up on provisions, you turn the corner into a back aisle — and just like that, you meet a lady in red who changes your life.
I mean, look. I feel pretty strongly about booze, in a positive way. Maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time imagining the need to dress up your hooch like … like a hooch, actually, to increase its appeal. On the other hand, maybe for career alcoholics it’s the equivalent of a couple that’s been married 40 years going a little nuts at Fredrick’s of Hollywood and getting The Missus a bra that’s not flesh-colored — sometimes, even in the most thoroughly field-tested relationship, you’ve gotta mix things up once in a while. Either way, it’s kinda hard not to imagine some poor schmuck waking up to find he’s consummated his relationship with this bottle in some cheap hotel room by the Interstate. Can’t you just see the tiny red dress wadded up on the orange shag carpet? Well friend, then you’re not looking hard enough.
I have our dear friend Jen to thank for alerting me to this, courtesy of the fine humans at The Lost Ogle. Apparently there’s a bit of a gap in the vetting process for the graphics that air on Channel 4 in Oklahoma City. That, or there’s someone on staff who’s dedicated to getting as much wang on the air as possible.
Persons of all stripes: I implore you to take whatever pains possible to see as much of “The Life and Times of Tim” as is possible. It’s on HBO. It’s magnificent. Here’s a clip from an episode called “Unpaid Hooker.”
