While this quiz is all too easy to ace, it raises some disturbing questions () about the nature of art. Is everything Art? Is Nothing Art? Or is only Nothingness Art? Or, is it all just a pile of shit?
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
I understand that not everyone keeps their hammer in their kitchen to facilitate the production of mojitos and manhattans, but more people should.
Except the people who live directly above me, that is.
It is a fact universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of an uncracked bottle of fine Havana Club Anejo Blanco rum must be in search of a mojito.
Which is where the hammer comes in.
Please don’t labour under the misapprehension that all Communist symbols are dour, utilitarian objects. No, indeedy. Why, ask any druid about the many, merry uses of the sickle. And we here at the ol’ raincoaster blog have our own uses for the hammer which include, as stated above, solidarity exercises with our Cuban Comrades.
So…the hammer is under the sink and all is well with the world. To make a mojito I take the hammer out, take two plastic bags, dump an ice-cube tray’s worth of, yes, ice cubes, into the double-bagged apparatus, and proceed to smash the hell out of it against the concrete floor of the apartment. Since it used to be a parking garage, I figure it can handle the abuse, and since there’s nothing downstairs but a few Acuras and Kias, I figure nobody is going to whine to the manager. And the ice gets nicely crushed and the cocktails get nicely made.
I actually have an official ice crusher, but since it’s a retro-Seventies model made out of cheap plastic and tin, it doesn’t function except as a visual reminder of the heyday of Playboy. So I keep it in the box next to the dusty Margarita glasses (I haven’t been able to afford tequila since the great Agave Plague of 2004).
Coming next week: where the electric drill comes into it…
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Basically, this is How to Be Badass 101, and who better to teach it than the king of Badass, Samuel L, eh? I’m stealing it from HighAdventureGames because they stole this from me and I’m badass. We take names and follow up.
Now, I know you might find it shocking that someone as cool and together as myself has New Year’s resolutions but believe it or not, there are things that even Samuel L. Jackson can improve upon. Forthwith – if I could have a little music, please. At the top of my list:
- “Continue to kick ass“
- And then I hope to “Be as bad as I know I can be“.
- Also, to “Really put it out there, and by it I mean Sammy’s mojo”.
- In addition, I plan to “Give it as good as I get it“, “Be all that and more“, and “Lose my shyness, vis a vis the rocket in my pocket“.
- Plus, I plan to “Work my voodoo on the lady fans“, “Take a thorn out of some cat’s paw” and “Build a shrine to my own bad ass“.
- Then, it’s time to “Give the demons what for“, “Spare the rod and spoil the face“, and “Continue to kick ass“.
- After which, I’ll “Show the bad men what it’s all about“, “Release a dove from a ghetto rooftop“, and “Cradle a newborn baby in the ruins of a church“.
- Finally, this year, I will “Stick it to all the suckas“.
- And I’m gonna “Show the Man that I mean business“.
- And I’m gonna “Take a computer class“.
[Saturday Night Live, December 1997]
Sadly, it appears that, although I am certainly badass, I am not Samuel L. Jackson. Well, who could be? The world could not stand twice that much cool.
Which B-Movie Badass Are You?
Big Boo-tay!
Take this quiz!
| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Let no man say the Catholic Church doesn’t move with the times.
Oh, it doesn’t generally change policies any faster than a glacier changes direction, but their marketing department is already all over Second Life, reaching out to those with no particular First Life (so no change there), and now from the Guardian (of the faithful?) comes news that the Vatican, heretofor known as rather a Slow Adopter (at least since that whole Savonarola brou-ha-ha) has gone all bleeding edge and announced that the C-list blogger known as “the Pope” will be sending daily text messages to the faithful.
No word on whether the service provider will be Virgin.
Again.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
And now it can be told: I’ve never seen any of his films.
Sorry.
But I have seen this: Whispers of the Wolf, presented by SCTV on Monster Chiller Horror Theatre. It’s more or less the same, right?
Igmar Bergman’s Whispers of the Wolf
Two sisters are depressed and have difficulty dealing with reality.
Desk Clerk – Levy; Sisters – O’Hara, Martin; Midget – extra
Count Floyd‘s a bit stunned, but gamely tries to convince us it was scary. He suspects Prickley booked Bergman.
Okay, I also saw Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. And…that other Bill and Ted movie…
Grim Reaper: A hit. You have sunk my battleship!
Dead Bill, Dead Ted: Excellent! Yes!
Dead Ted: I totally knew he would put it in the J’s, dude!
Dead Bill: Good thinking, Ted.
Grim Reaper: You must play me again.
Dead Bill: WHAT?
Grim Reaper: Um, best two out of three.
Dead Bill, Dead Ted: No way!
Grim Reaper: Yes way.
Death wins. Death always wins.
See, you thought I didn’t know my Bergman!
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
raincoaster 