Well, it’s a question. When I was little I used to ask myself what Anne Murray would do…then it became Kate Jackson. Yeah, that’s how old I am!
In any case, men can do a lot worse than to ask themselves: What Would Tom Jones Do? Think about it: rudderless milquetoasts everywhere suddenly become assertive, seductive, sweaty, ice-cool, red hot, and Welsh-American-accented!
From CulturePulp, by Mike Russell
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
Still, better late than never. Here’s a delightful musical number from The Kids in the Hall‘s movie Brain Candy.
My friends Jaime and Terry took me to see that when I was going through chemo and not getting out of the house much. This was about the stage where the little hair I had left was as thin as a baby’s and you could see the shape of my skull right through it. Let me tell you, not everyone can carry off the Sinead O’Connor look. Natalie Portman, with her beautifully rounded cranium, is a lucky bitch: my head looked far too much like Machu Picchu for my liking.
In any case, I had never seen my friends squirm as much as they did at this movie, which they did in unison, at the precise moment that Cancer Boy came on. I swear to god, they are each over six feet tall but within seconds they could easily have fit in a shoebox, they shrank so much. Also assumed the fetal position. I think their testicles are still retracted.
I never laughed so hard!
So here’s another snippet of the movie, for all the Friends of Dorothy on the ol’ raincoaster blog.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Stolen from the greatest magazine in the history of recorded thought, Spy, via the greatest blog based on blogging the best dead magazine in recorded thought in recorded thought, Ten Years Ago in Spy.
“What If the Brontë Sisters Had Been in a Heavy-Metal Band?”
[Wouldn’t they be Kittie?]
- 1826
- Emily rejects ritual indoctrination in the domestic arts; vows to create a “towering wall of sounds.”
- 1842
- Anne throws straw-poke bonnet into seething concert crowd at Albert Hall.
- 1849
- Charlotte returns to public house to trash furniture and have sex with publican; locks manager, Mrs. Rochester, in attic.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Yes, Brian must have a lot of time on his hands. Do they end up crispy, or limp? I bet they really clean out your insides. Garlic Dill Husquvarna, anyone?
Hat-tip: Bridlepath.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
raincoaster 