iron, men

And now for the latest in our series on the Ideal Man.

All the world knows about the iron men: streamlined bio-units of muscle, sinew, and insanity who compete for survival-level prize money over a gruelling, often mountainous course approximately the distance typically travelled in a human lifetime.

But do you know about Extreme Iron Men?

Extreme Ironing Man, Mt Fuji!

Extreme Ironing is the *sport* (you decide) of taking an iron & ironing board to locations not conducive to ironing, and pressing a few items of clothing.

When I left raincoaster Global HQ this morning there was a pile of wet laundry on a rack over the bathtub, dripping away and patiently waiting for my attention. I figured it would keep and tried to creep out of the place without waking the slumbering Cybergypsy. When I returned this afternoon, the laundry was happily drying on the line and my roommate was straightening the last of my unmentionables on the drying rack.

I should sign him up for this and bet a snotload of money on the guy. He’s obviously a natural. Any man who would touch my underwear without a specific invitation is, frankly, fearless.

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Fish heads, fish heads…by Barnes & Barnes

Eat them up, yum.

Well, this is a weird one. People always look at me funny when I talk about avant garde art in LA, but I tell ya, there are a lot of former art and fine art grads out there with soul killing nine-to-fivers, money to toss at their dreams, and memberships at Beyond Baroque. They’ve got to do something with their spare time.

Say hello to Barnes & Barnes. You get a sense of just how far out these guys really are when you realize that Dr Demento plays the straight man.

How are my darling little Spazchow heads? Fine? That’s swell! It’s 2007. Time is passing us by quickly. We’re getting older. One day we’ll all die and go to heaven. Or perhaps hell. You never can be too sure…Ya know, the internet is a wondrous thing. It makes me wanna say TOOMP!…

Man, is it ever a great time to be a B & B fan, or what?! And be nice to Billy Mumy, he’s really not a bad fellow. I mean it was touch and go there for awhile, but he got through it and now he’s just fine! Make sure to shout out a Down Hetta Hetta to him every once in awhile. Be sure to eat your vegetables and change your socks. Wash your hands after using the toilet and don’t leave the seat up. And fellows, when you drip, clean the rim, will ya?

Thanks and be sure to stay in touch and try to patronize Mr. Mumy and buy his music. He needs cash real bad.

Your extra special pal,
the ever reclusive Artie Barnes….

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female porn

What do women want? This, baby. Throw in the ability not to backseat drive and you’ve got the perfect man.

From Al Lowe via MasterCowfish.

Female porn

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max adams: the Pinkertons dossier

max adamsAs promised, here is max‘s biography. Consider biographization to be a meme if you enjoy such things.

Warning: your mileage may vary. We assume no liability. No warranty implied. Before beginning this or any exercise plan, consult your physician. Not intended as a replacement for the advice of a competent professional.

Which, if I’d had access to, would probably have resulted in something a lot less interesting.

max adams: the Pinkertons dossier

Editor’s note: In relating the circumstances which have led to my confinement within this refuge for the demented, I am aware that my present position will create a natural doubt of the authenticity of my narrative. It is an unfortunate fact that the bulk of humanity is too limited in its mental vision to weigh with patience and intelligence those isolated phenomena, seen and felt only by a psychologically sensitive few, which lie outside its common experience. Men of broader intellect know that there is no sharp distinction betwixt the real and the unreal; that all things appear as they do only be virtue of the delicate individual physical and mental media through which we are made conscious of them; but the prosaic materialism of the majority condemns as madness the flashes of supersight which penetrate the common veil of obvious empiricism.

max adams is such a phenomenon.

In creating this dossier we have been in constant contact with our offices in St. Petersburg, Istanbul, Silverlake, Ponape, Zurich, Area 51, Abu Simbel, Great Zimbabwe, and of course, Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump. Although facts are few, and expensively won, we have been able to assemble the following biographical sketch.

max adams is the laboratory-created daughter of the frozen sperm of Errol Flynn and pioneering biologist Nicolette Tesla (granddaughter of the famous physicist) who, deprived by the relentless progress of Glasnost of a ready supply of involuntary subjects, was forced to experiment upon herself.

Succeeding beyond her wildest dreams, she gave birth to max, whom she named Erriol in an epidural trance, during which she recited the entirety of The Tempest, with different voices and everything, pausing only to berate the attending doula for her hopelessly provincial dress sense.

max was raised in Tesla‘s mountain fortress to the age of four, when she was taken away by agents of the state to undertake the gruelling process of being schooled for the Olympic ice dancing team.

During a particularly contentious international competition in Bakersfield, California, max defected to the West and since that time has denied all knowledge of the former European Ice Dancing Championship team of Erriol Tesla and Sergey Brin.

She currently lives a quiet life as a night custodian and DJ at Slim Jim’s Crematorium and Rib House hidden deep in the bowels of the the new CAA headquarters, while maintaining a small scientific consulting practice with an exclusive clientele including MIT’s jet propulsion laboratory, Chicago’s Slam Poetry Championship, and Burger King.

~end~

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quiz: what does your pizza say about you?

Now, from the phrasing of the quiz title, it’s not clear if the question applies to before or after I’ve eaten it. Believe me, the answers will be very different.


What Your Pizza Reveals


You have a hearty appetite. You are likely to complain if a restaurant has small portions.
You consider pizza to be bread… very good bread. You fit in best in the Midwest part of the US.

You like food that’s traditional and well crafted. You aren’t impressed with “gourmet” foods.

You are generous, outgoing, and considerate with your choices.

You are definitely unique and artistically inclined. You should consider traveling to Prague.

The stereotype that best fits you is freak. Obviously.

What Does Your Pizza Say About You?

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