Now, this is just something that works in any language. It’s the campfire scene from Blazing Saddles, and if you find my blog too highfalutin’, elitist and intellectual, you will, I assure you, find your fears put to rest by my inclusion of this, perhaps the apotheosis of Hollywood comedic expression.
And don’t tell me he’s here. Daniel Craig may be a fine actor and a decorative one at that, but he’s just no James Bond.
But, in that, he’s set the standard for spies around the world today. Not only do the Americans have problems with their middle-management selling them out for a powerboat and a two-bedroom condo in South America, but apparently India‘s spies are not exactly equipped with nerves of steel. Nerves of spun glass perhaps. Got this via Fark.
EVERY beauty pageant comes with its requisite dose of melodrama: temper tantrums, lost tiaras and controversial disqualifications.
But this year’s Miss Tibet contest took the customary histrionics to new heights when it opened yesterday in Dharamsala, the Indian town where the Dalai Lama has lived since fleeing his homeland.
On the eve of the competition, one entrant was ordered to withdraw because she serves in a covert Tibetan unit of the Indian Army specialising in high-altitude combat. Pema Choedon, the soldier turned beauty queen, was so upset that she had a panic attack and was taken to hospital.
That’s some combat specialist! I bet Sandra Bullock could kick her ass!
In ass-kicking news, the one Tibetan who could give Bond a run for his money in the Cool department says he wants a shot at the crown as well.
When the first contest was held, the government-in-exile’s prime minister denounced it as “un-Tibetan” and “aping Western culture”.
The Dalai Lama has since softened the official line.
“If there is Miss Tibet, why not Mr Tibet?”
I remember when Kurt left.
I remember when Graydon left.
I remember when Tina left.
The Tatler, that is. After that I didn’t pay too much attention.
I will always remember Black Friday the 13th, the day Jessica left.
But for those of you who don’t want to remember, there are these.
Came across a link to this yesterday on BoingBoing (or, god, was it Gawker? Can’t remember. How mortifying; oh well, they’re both right handy in the blogroll over there, help yourself) and didn’t have a use for it then, but now it seems only too perfect. Print these out and take them grocery shopping this weekend, because you’re going to need them come Monday and your first Jessica-free edition of Gawker.
The Ambien Cookbook, from the New Yorker.
The sleeping pill Ambien seems to unlock a primitive desire to eat in some patients, according to emerging medical case studies that describe how the drug’s users sometimes sleepwalk into their kitchens, claw through their refrigerators like animals and consume calories ranging into the thousands.
—The Times.
Sorpresa con Queso
Ingredients:
7 bags Cheetos-brand cheese snacks
17 to 19 glasses tap water
5 mg. Ambien
Place Cheetos bags in cupboard.Take Ambien, fall asleep.
Wait 2-3 hours, then sleepwalk to kitchen, tear cupboard doors off hinges in search of Cheetos.
Find Cheetos, eat contents of all 7 bags.
Fall back asleep on kitchen floor.
When awakened by early-morning sunlight, get up and say, “What the—?”
Wipe orange Cheetos dust from fingers, face, and hair.
Drink 17 to 19 glasses of water from kitchen tap.
Return to bed
Icebox Mélange
Ingredients:
Entire contents of refrigerator
1 Diet Snapple
5 mg. Ambien
Take Ambien, fall asleep.Wait 2-3 hours, then sleepwalk to kitchen.
Devour everything in refrigerator (including all fancy mustards and jellies, iffy takeout leftovers, and plastic dial from thermostat).
Belch loud enough to wake wife or girlfriend. When she enters kitchen, bellow, “Can’t you see I’m working here?”
Fall asleep on kitchen floor.
After 4-5 more hours, wake up on subway, fully dressed from the waist up, drinking a Diet Snapple.
and so on…
That should adequately prevent your dying of malnutrition while in a pharmaceutical-induced blackout.
And always remember, beer has simply tons of calories!
Ladies and gentlemen, a moment of silence, please, while we stand and give Jessica Coen our traditional Canuckistan departure salute, with appropriate ruffles and flourishes:
UPDATE:
See, here I am explaining it, later.
The below image is too large for my 500-pixel space.
Click on it for a larger version in a new window.
Hotlinking of all of these images is enabled and encouraged for those who know
what it’s all about.
For those who don’t, why aren’t you watching television?
Well, what can I add to this? It’s shameful the way these Sesame Street stars no longer even bother to hide it.
Not everyone knows that Entourage was originally based on Sesame Street, but the Children’s Television Workshop put the kibosh on that plot point and made them change it, on pain of having to go without kneecaps or the letter R for the rest of their lives.
Defamer has the sordid backstage tale.
A tense moment passed between Access Hollywood‘s Maria Menounos and Big Bird, when the Sesame Street star began to suspect that the reporter’s wandering hand was engaged less in the sensual caress that he demanded than in a fumbling search for his rapidly engorging avian member.
Truth be told: I have no idea who that chick is, but I’m smart enough to know that hawt brunette-on-bird action is gonna be massive for hits.
Now if only I could find that pic of Lauren Hutton and Rolf Harris’ emu…
raincoaster 