Category Archives: Allegory

Pirate Booty Call, with bonus casting couch!

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Orlando Bloom discusses the universal desire to get taken from behind by Johnny Depp. From AP:

Pirate Booty, arrrrrr!

AP: What makes these “Pirates” films so appealing?

Bloom: I guess we all want to be a pirate. Somewhere inside us I suppose it’s a real fantasy about being out on the open sea. Nothing’s stopping you from living whatever life you want to live. You’re not landlocked. And pirate booty, everyone likes a bit of pirate booty…

AP: What was it like … with Johnny Depp?

Bloom: He just tears up the s—–. It was great for me. I think he’s [made] brave choices and doing m—– that he wants, not conforming. I really admire that and I think he really delivers as Jack Sparrow. It was great for me …

Even I couldn’t have said it better, melad. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

And here we have the job listing for aforesaid pirate booty. Apparently, Depp has a gimp fetish.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 3 OPEN CALL 
 

Open Casting Call – Through 15 August 2006

Pirates of the Caribbean 3

PIRATES HOTLINE

818.725.2905

Sande Alessi Casting

13731 Ventura Blvd., Top Floor

Sherman Oaks, CA  91423

Monday through Friday, 11am – 3pm

Seeking Pirates — men age 18+, all shapes and sizes, all ethnicities: Asian, Spanish, French, African, Syrian, Lebanese, Middle Eastern, Turkish, Armenian, Arab, Persian, Caucasian, South American, Pacific Islander, Eskimo, etc…

You must be an extreme character type! We need extremely skinny, very tall, very short, hunchback, little people, unusual facial features and body types, exotic amputees, albinos, etc.

Bring your own current 3×5 photo (does not have to be professional). If you do not have a photo, we can take one for you for $2.00

MP3 o’ the Day: The Rite of Exorcism

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Now that’s what I call long-playing. Going since the zero-th century Daily Exorcise(BC and AD, although not AC or DC) and still popular. Here is the Catholic Rite of Exorcism, available for all your home exorcision needs.

From WFMU’s Beware of the Blog:

The Rite of Exorcism

Now that the dreaded date of 6/6/06 has passed seemingly without incident, will the apocalyptic religious hysteria (and the mockery thereof) cease?  Heavens, no!  Not if Beware of The Blog has anything to say about it.  And where would the God franchise be anyway without its archenemy and eternal whipping boy—Lucifer, the Bringer of Light?  Are we all so confident that “nothing happened” on June 6?  How could we possibly be?  Babies were born, to be sure—so we’ll see, I guess.

If, in the coming weeks, you find yourself speaking in unfamiliar, ancient tongues, exhibiting Tourette’s-like symptoms, or contorting your body in new, unusual ways (without the benefit of a Yoga class), you may in fact be in need of a ritual demonectomy—an exorcism—one of the oldest and most hushed ceremonies of the Christian church…

“Knowing when to exorcise and when to refer for psychiatric treatment is a nagging problem for priests.”  Wow.  And you thought the priesthood was a cakewalk.

The Rite of Exorcism Part the First

The Rite of Exorcism Part the Second

We assume no liability. We do, however, want to hear all about it after you try this at home. Kinda reminds me of that book “Sex for Dummies” in that Dummies, of all the people in the world, are the last ones who deserve or, for the sake of the species should be having, sex. Do-it-yourselfers, trundling happily around Rona or Home Depot or Canadian Tire, looking for calico cow stencils and whatever Debbie Travis told them to buy that day, are perhaps the last people on the planet who should be entrusted with the task of expelling demons.

They have power tools. And cow stencils. That’s all I’m saying.

Star Trek Cribs: The Next Generation

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As requested, the Director’s Cut

My Neighborhood, for real

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So, as you might already know by my blog irregularity, I am experiencing a power crisis. I am without electricity. In Canada, we call this “anhydrous” but you might call it any number of things, including inconvenient.

But among other things, it means that I only have electricity between midnight and five in the morning, when I can safely run a power cord to the outlet down the hall without anyone ratting me out to the building manager.

However.

There are those who could bust me. In my hallway, there is a youthful Chinese girl who is carrying on an affair with a man on one of the upper floors, but who doesn’t dare let her father, with whom she lives, know. So, every night about twelve-thirty, I hear her door open and the elevator going up. About three, it comes back down and she goes back to her room.

She’s not about to rat me out for using the power. It’s mutually assured destruction.

When I go out to unplug the apparatus, sometimes I see some unusual things.

It’s four-thirty in the morning. It’s the Downtown Eastside. Of COURSE I see some unusual things.

But among them I do not expect to see an actual scimitar. Apparently, instead of the tai chi ladies who practiced there last year, each dawn is welcomed by an actual, fucking, practicing fucking, samurai.

He’s out on the patio, practicing his moves. I am well aware it should be a katana instead of a scimitar, but what can I say, the man is versatile.

And armed.

Oh, who are the people in my neighborhood. In my neighborhood. In my neigh-bor-hood? Oh, who are the people in my neighborhood. The people that you meet each day?

The samurai has a big sword
Don’t mess with him or you’ll get gored.
He practices each day at dawn
Could skewer you just like a prawn.

‘Cause the Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
In my neighborhood.
He’s in my neigh-bor-hood!
A Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
A person that I meet each day.

Oh, trysting kids are scaredycats.
Their dad might find out, don’cha kno?
They sneak around, it takes real gumption
They can’t expose me: M. A. Destruction.
Oh, a Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
In my neighborhood.
In my neighbrhood.
And the trysting kid’s a person in my neighborhood.
They’re the people that I meet
When I’m walking down the street
They’re the people that I meet each day and, by silent mutual agreement, do not appear to recognize.

The Golden Telephone

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An American decided to write a book about famous churches around the world.
So he bought a plane ticket and took a trip to Orlando, thinking that he would start by working his way across the USA from South to North.
On his first day he was inside a church taking photographs when he noticed a golden telephone mounted on the wall with a sign that read “$10,000 per call”.
The American, being intrigued, asked a priest who was strolling by what the telephone was used for.
The priest replied that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 you could talk to God.
The American thanked the priest and went along his way.
Next stop was in Atlanta. There, at a very large cathedral, he saw the same golden telephone with the same sign under it.
He wondered if this was the same kind of telephone he saw in Orlando and he asked a nearby nun what its purpose was.
She told him that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 he could talk to God.
“O.K., thank you,” said the American.
He then traveled to Indianapolis, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston and New York.
In every church he saw the same golden telephone with the same “$10,000 per call” sign under it.
The American, upon leaving Vermont decided to travel to up to Canada to see if Canadians had the same phone.
He arrived in Canada, and again, in the first church he entered,
there was the same golden telephone, but this time the sign under it read “40 cents per call.”
The American was surprised so he asked the priest about the sign.
“Father, I’ve traveled all over America and I’ve seen this same golden telephone in many churches. I’m told that it is a direct line to Heaven, but in the US the price was $10,000 per call.
Why is it so cheap here?”

The priest smiled and answered, “You’re in Canada now, son – it’s a local call”.