thanks to Master Cowfish for this.
http://www.oedipusthemovie.com/ – The story of OEDIPUS in 8 minutes performed by vegetables in the tradition of BEN-HUR. Featuring a Potato, a Tomato, Broccoli, Garlic, and Billy Dee Williams as the Bartender. Official Selection 60+ film festivals including Sundance…
And oh yeah, we’re tasteless ’round these parts, so it gets the “Family” tag. Let it not be said that I have failed to transcend the concept of human dignity.
Oh wow, I am just speechless with how wonderful this is. Not only is it BEN AFFLECK, someone who we’ve wanted represented here at Celebrities Eating for far too long, but it’s BEN AFFLECK EATING A FUCKING BIG MAC. High five, internet. High five.
Yes, it’s just what you think it is, although perhaps allowing Nicole Richie more webspace than you’d have thought, from the look of her. Still, it’s a site about celebrities eating, not celebrities keeping food down. via Gawker.
Is there something in the Ontario water that causes this? Is it that the radio sucks so badly? Is it Cheeveresque or O’Neillian fear of the family tensions that play themselves out more confrontationally in conversation than in silence?
Why does everyone in Ontario enter their house, remove their shoes and, before even taking off their jacket, turn on the television?
And what is the last thing they do every night? Read a bedtime story to their children? Hit the singles chatroooms? Enjoy a snifter of brandy and a wide-ranging discussion of the physical substance of the various ranks of angels? No.
They turn off the tv.
If there was something we used in Vancouver this much, we’d just have it on a timer or a motion detector, although given the propensity of people to become motionless in front of a television, perhaps that wouldn’t work. Yeah, they could use some of these morning shows to immobilize the enemy, particularly now that the Geneva Conventions are considered unconventional for Americans.
Timer, timer is better. On at 7am, off at midnight.
I have a couple of friends who came from the West but who now live in Ontario, and they, too, have succumbed to this bizzare and disturbing fetishistic behaviour. This, plus the fact that I haven’t the slightest hint of it and my gene pool basically sloshes up and down the Ottawa Valley for the last three hundred years like water in a bowl, is what convinces me it’s something environmental.
And you can bet it’s not the quality of the broadcasts. After two days, that possibility has been thoroughly ruled out.
Now, maybe it’s something in the air of BC, but we out there have a marked tendency to passive-aggressiveness of an almost pathalogical order. Would we ever tell you off? No, perish the thought. Would we see you every day for drinks after work and brunch on Sunday and tell everyone in our running group how much we hate you?
You bet. Much more polite.
So I have developed a unique coping system for visits from Ontarians. You always try to make the place nice for your guests and show off the many ways your town is different from where they live, so that they go home with the definite sense of having actually left home in the first place.
So the first thing I do is I hide the remote.
“A couple came up to me after it was all over and shook my hand and
said, ‘We’re from South Carolina, and we just want to thank you, that was the best bar fight and greatest entertainment we’ve ever had,’ ” said Scott Richard of Cody.
Forget Texas; don’t mess with Wyominginans either, apparently. Fark has the report of the best little saloon brawl in the West.
The fight broke out shortly after midnight in the Irma’s Silver Saddle bar.
“Somebody in the bar, as a joke, yelled, ‘Last call for alcohol,’ ” said Richard. A drink then got sloshed onto the ceiling, where it dripped onto an individual who took umbrage with the turn of events, he said.
“This skinny guy stands up and starts lipping off,” Richard said.
Amid an attempted apology, someone else threw a punch, and Richard said he stepped in to try to break things up but was also hit.
“And then all hell broke lose,” he said.
Casualties include a bartender, several participants, and one chair and table. No word on whether or not it was a wagon-wheel table, though.
so blogging will be a little erratic. That’s okay, though: I know that if you’re a reader of this blog you’re very into the erratic arts.
FYI you know how the tarmac on runways and taxiways has those rubber tire marks, in big swooping circles and straight lines and some, heart-stopping times, a series of juddering dark grey dots, fading off into the distance? Well there is one spot at YVR where some fellow who has too much time on his hands and a job that pays by the hour has taken it upon himself to apply the creative impulse to tire marks.
He’s made a happy face.
raincoaster 