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Horsey Sauce

March 1, 2009

After receiving a purportedly “half-filled” container of Au-Jus dipping sauce for his Roast Beef and Swiss sandwich, Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez ordered the army to take control of an Arby’s in Caracas.

Hugo Chavez, Friend to Children

Hugo Chavez, Friend to Children


“The nationalization of the fast food industry has been long overdue,” said one unidentified source.
“Dipping Sauce should not be the exclusive domain of the wealthy,” added another man requesting anonymity. “A family’s life savings should not be put in jeopardy for a Jamocha Shake.”

Objets Interprétés

January 26, 2009

Vatican City–In an attempt to extend the hand of friendship to Jewish groups offended by the recent reinstatement of  Lefebvrist and Society of St. Pius X member Bishop Richard Williamson, Pope Benedict XVI today shocked the secular world by issuing a Papal Bull officialy condemning the corporate entity Interbake Foods, parent company of ABC Bakers, whose inadvertent omission of the Kosher symbol on thousands of boxes of Girl Scout Cookies caused much consternation amongst Thin Mint loving Rabbis recently.


Will this peace making gesture be sufficient to bridge the divide betwixt Catholics and Jews caused by the welcoming back into the fold of  Holocaust-Denying Williamson? Perhaps only time, a tall glass of cold milk, and a fresh box of Tagalongs can tell.

Go to Hell, RiffTrax!

January 14, 2009

A common exhortation extended by the good folks on the Rifftrax Blog is the exhortation to, quote: “Go to Hell”

This particular exhortation has been proffered to, and, one presumes, rejected by, powerhouses such as “Irony”, and lesser contenders such as “Healthy Halloween Snacks”.

Were it not for their jovial demeanor, one might easily confuse such behavior with that of a rather intolerant member of the usually tolerant Hamas, or, for that matter, any dangerously unstable lunatic, such as, say, Samuel Wurzelbacher.


So, if even merchants of mirth can find themselves resorting to such outbursts, it should really come as no surprise that I, myself, am capable of sinking to such a level.

For those unaware, Rifftrax are feature length, secondary audio tracks featuring comedic commentary to be played simultaneously with the movie. This commentary is provided by the former writers and stars of Mystery Science Theater 3000: Mike Nelson, Kevin Murphy, and Bill Corbett.

At present, they have done commentaries for over 70 films, and there’s the rub.

70 commentaries for films that one can’t wait to see get their comeuppance.

Big Budget dreck that has been begging to be taken to task and treated the same way that these films treat their audiences.

Science Fiction that asks all the important philosophical questions that sci-fi should ask. Questions like:

“Could a technologically superior race of hostile beings hope to overcome the serendipitous assault manoeuvers of a drunken Randy Quaid?”


“What kind of zany misadventures would Mantan Moreland get into if he was a CGI Lizard/Camel hybrid?”

No fewer than twelve of their commentaries are for comic book based films. An effort to capture the much coveted “Geek Market”, no doubt. This demographic is particularly prized for its willingness to spend its disposable income in the most shockingly frivolous manner, such as shelling out $295 for a 1:6 Scale Bat-Pod Replica from the, so-called, “greatest movie of all time”, The Dark Knight.

The typical consumer may well be satisfied to only buy the Rifftrax to films he already owns, and then pick up more according to his own individual dvd rental habits. Then it may occur to that same consumer, when he finds himself wanting to revisit the Rifftrax (and he will), that it costs more to rent the same film twice than it does to pick up a used copy somewhere. Furthermore, if one searches the internet, one can find most of the movies new for roughly the same price.

Then, one day, he finds himself standing in line at Circuit City, clutching in his hands, a copy of Top Gun starring Tom Cruise. It’s on sale for $4.99. For less than $9 for both the dvd and the Rifftrax, he’s gonna have a great evening of laughter, but he’s going to have to live with the shame of knowing that HE NOW OWNS A COPY OF TOP GUN.


So, for making me buy Top Gun, I say:


(But keep ’em coming!)

Don’t you like beer?

January 12, 2009

Let’s all raise our glasses and drink a toast to Satyam founder, B. Ramalinga Raju, won’t we?











The preceding was brought to you by The Abandoned Warehouse Council.

The Abandoned Warehouse Council. Encouraging you and your loved ones to visit the abandoned warehouse of your choice, this week, and every week.

The Why and the Wherefore is Someone I Care For

January 11, 2009

Have you ever been marching in place in the comfort of your own home and thought to yourself, ‘gee, what am I doing marching in place for free when I could be doing it for four easy payments of thirty three dollars and thirty three cents’?

Sure, we all have. Don’t freaking lie to me! We ALL have.

Well, the good folks at AirClimber have got you covered.


Kiss the drudgery of marching in place goodbye, and say hello to the wonder and the whimsy of marching in place on an Air Climber!

No. You’re not on Fantasy Island, friend. This dream has come true.

One to Grow on!

January 9, 2009

From the Hamilton Beach Toastation model #22703 owner’s manual:

“NEVER heat cracked, broken, or warped pastries”
(emphasis theirs)


So, please, inspect all pockets (Hot or otherwise), pastries, and tarts (of the “Pop” variety, one surmises) for hidden imperfections before you purchase them.

It is highly recommended that you get a Certified Baker to inspect them for you. Sure, it costs more, but it will save you money in the long run.

Don’t let a pastry related mishap happen to you!

And that’s…One to Grow on!

“We had it canned…above the store”

January 8, 2009

When I was in my teenage years, and had the guts to fearlessly dive into ‘Great Expectations’ or ‘Moby Dick’, I would open a book to the first page and close it when I got to the last.
Now, as I am older, I find myself trepidatious when confronting a tome which requires some effort on my part. No longer am I the bold explorer, for worry that the journey may not be worth the hardship. It is not uncommon to find me repeatedly picking up and putting down a book that I intend to read, thumbing through it, scanning random paragraphs, “kicking it’s tires”, so to speak, before climbing behind the wheel.
It was during one of these “false starts” that I stumbled upon a strange passage in a book entitled ‘Endymion’s Children’ by one ‘Joseph Stanley Werm’, written in the year 1777.
I give here an excerpt, and leave it up to the reader to decide for him or herself whether it is relevant.

Philip Gerard speeds down the road in his camper truck. Zydeco music blares from his radio, and he taps his hands on the wheel in time with the rhythm.
Through the dirty windshield he spies a roadside diner advertising, on a decrepit sign “Clams-All U Can Eat-$5.99”

(to himself)
I’ve been waiting a lifetime for an
opportunity such as this!

He careens into the parking lot, kicking up gravel and dust into the sticky, dead air. Clambering out of his truck, he gazes up at the sign in quiet awe, the occasional car whizzing by behind him.

Gerard enters slowly, solemnly, as if expecting something. The interior of the diner is filthy; men in soiled overalls and sweat stained baseball caps sit at long, metal picnic tables consuming piles of crawfish. The cracking of exoskeletons and slurping of innards can be heard over the drone of an improperly balanced exhaust fan. Mountains of discarded shells and viscera are carelessly tossed into gore encrusted buckets in the centre of each of the tables. Gerard steps up to the counter. Billows of steam pour from the portal leading to the kitchen. A burly chef in a sailor’s cap pokes his head out of this portal and points at Gerard, awaiting his order.

Are the clams fresh?

I’d like to think so.

I can’t stand clams if they’re not
fresh… they become like rubber when
you cook them… chewing becomes

Yeah? Well, I think these clams are fresh.

Where do these clams come from?

The cook is becoming very annoyed.

I don’t know. I don’t know where these clams
come from.


From the Ocean! These clams come from
the Ocean.

Gerard strokes his beard and contemplates the ragged, yellowed menu scotch-taped to the wall.

Hmmm…Give me some clams.

Here endeth the excerpt.

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