Here it is: the official start of summer. I bet you’re not even doing work right now. You’re just thinking about the long weekend ahead and how you’re going to spend it. Speaking of which, we’re off on Monday, too. So there’s a fair chance even we aren’t working right now. But as one last send off, let’s take a look back, shall we? If you were busy voting on don’t ask don’t tell, odds are you missed it.
The show may still be airing in a parallel universe
Two of television’s biggest shows signed off for the last time this week. On Sunday, Lost ended, followed a day later by 24. One show was famous for its action, character development and dizzying amount of plot twists, and the other one was Lost. In the thrilling conclusion, we found out that Jack Bauer was really the polar bear.
No iAdmission at the game
It came to light this week that Yankee Stadium treats iPads like outside drinks and food, and of course, firearms–they are not allowed. People have reported being turned away from the gates for having an iPad on their person. But don’t worry, Yankees fans, gold chains and hairy backs are A-OK!
Binging yourself just sounds weird
A recent study found that over half of American adults have Googled themselves. The survey suggests that adults use the tool to manage their online reputation and see what over people can find out about them. Those who said they have never Googled themselves said their wives just aren’t into that sort of thing.
Folks, it’s time to just lay back and accept some inevitabilities: BP knew we were long overdue for an oilspil and helped Exxon out in the process, Ron Artest may become the first certifiably insane person to win a NBA championship, and lingerie and sports just go together.
Think milk and cookies, Batman and Robin, Jack and Coke, some things just work. Which is exactly why Venus Williams has taken it upon herself to combine lingerie and tennis. Now we just need to get Maria Sharapova, Anna Kournikova on board with this.
And to round out the week of alarming, destructive teenager behavior, here’s a new fad recently uncovered by hip reporters and an even hipper pediatric urologist: “sack tapping.”
Yes, sack tapping or–in places where they call soda “pop”–ball tapping: the testosterone-reducing game of slapping and flicking the testicles of others.
Urologists are noticing more and more ruptured and outright crushed testicles bouncing lifelessly into their exam rooms. They’re now trying to educate young men, warning them that the injuries sustained during the game often result in amputation and even Hitler.
So, as the article asks, “Why [the f#@king s&$t] would boys do that to each other?” Funny you should ask, because University of Michigan’s Institute for Social Research might have the answer.
Hey! You! Get off of the game box! Or at least, get off of it after using the machine for an hour and 59 minutes. Why so? According to Steve Pope, a counselor and therapist in the United Kingdom, if you gamed for two hours, you just did the equivalent of a line of cocaine.
DUN DUN DUNDUNDUNNNNNNNNN.
“A lot of young people get themselves into a situation where they use video games as an escape from the world and they get hooked on the release of adrenaline it gives,” says Pope. “Spending two hours on a game station is equivalent to taking a line of cocaine in the high it produces.”
Pope goes on to claim that gaming is the “fastest growing addiction” in the UK and is affecting youth mentally as well as causing problems like obesity.
“I saw one 14-year-old Preston boy who played on games for 24 hours non stop and had not eaten and was showing signs of dehydration,” he adds. “When his parents tried to take his console away, he became aggressive and threatened to jump out of a window.”
There are also children, he warns, that have been stealing from their parents to buy video games. Just imagine if they were actually doing coke! There are even therapists who are addicted to making all sorts of melodramatic claims. Shock! Shock and horror!
Clearly, gaming is one helluva drug.
Greece has had some issues as of late. Perhaps you’ve heard about the country going bankrupt and riots in Athens. At crucial times like that, it’s important that leaders be able to communicate. That didn’t work so well.
Greek Prime Minister George Papandreou had his home phone cut off by accident recently when the phone company meant to cut off a customer who had not kept up with his or her bills. Oh well, not like there’s a nationwide crisis going on.
Wes Anderson’s latest film, Fantastic Mr. Fox, is an adaptation of Roald Dahl’s classic novel of the same name. Dahl’s novels, which have helped usher many a disgruntled kid through childhood, don’t condescend to the young, but there’s an element of whimsy that makes readers want to live in his world. Wes Anderson’s movies, on the other hand, can be hit-or-miss for most people, though if you’ve read the past few weeks for me, you know that they’re hits with me. His films tend toward the pretentious, with hints of the war of mid-life crisis and he uses a broad cast of actors repeatedly in his movies. Understated line delivery, artfully composed shots, and a focus on dysfunction alienate some viewers while drawing ardent fans from the other end of the spectrum. Nonetheless, the combination of Dahl and Anderson proves a winner in this film, with Dahl’s fanciful novel providing a great backdrop for Anderson’s regimented directorial style. Continue reading MasterChugs Theater: ‘Fantastic Mr. Fox’
When we started the War on Animals, we did so with a clear sense of purpose. Animals were mauling people left and right and stealing our expensively-hormone-injected crops and livestock.
Robots, which can only be considered animals in some Transformer units, have been on our to-do list for a while. The problem was that we needed a Pearl Harbor moment; otherwise, we’d just look like dicks if we declared war on iPads.
Gentlemen (and warlike ladies): we have That Moment. Computer viruses are spreading into humans like monkey AIDS. To borrow the enemy’s binary language, it’s either us or not us (them).
We’d like to add that it’s not our fault that primates are sexy in a Billie Piper sort of way.
Pay close attention to the headline-W.A.D. will make plenty of sense and be decipherable. Also, I am approximately twelve years old.
Now, we can only put so much stock into a story being reported by a tabloid, but sometimes, even the headlines make the days worth it.
It’s sort of like Leaving Las Vegas but only if Las Vegas was Islamic, and Cage was some form of Buddha, however, other than that, a NYC ad campaign on busses for “disenfranchised Muslims” is pretty much a dead-on copy of the movie.
Side note: If they were to make a religious movie about Leaving Las Vegas, who would play Sera the love-interest hooker? The Clergy? Too soon?
Yesterday, we brought you news about eyeballing, a new trend with the youngins that involves pouring vodka into your eyes to absorb alcohol faster (really? Why not a vodka IV, kids?), today, we bring you the other big trend sweeping the country’s functional drunks: bros icing bros.
Imagine you are going about your day, when someone you know taps you on the shoulder and hands you a Smirnoff Ice. Before, you would tell them to get that trash out of your face, but now, you have to get down on one knee and chug it, regardless of where you are and the fact that your friends are planning on posting the video on YouTube in an hour.
It’s the latest alcohol-related prank, that apparently got its start with fraternities, and may or may not be a viral marketing campaign from Smirnoff Ice. I think we know what The Guys are going to be doing at our next get-together.