Remember those spiffy, chorusline-dancin’ murderous thugs from the Axe Gang in the chop-socky classic Kung Fu Hustle? Ever thought, “gee, my life would be so much better if only I had those moves!“? Well my arrhythmic whiteboy friend, now you can have them, thanks to this brilliant, slickly glam, high-tech How to Dance Like an Axe Gang Member video.
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So…it finally stopped raining.
And I have been waiting patiently for an hour as a…
slug…
makes its slow, patient way across my ceiling, occasionally looping downward on a connecting wall, although never down enough for me to take up arms, or at least stubby brooms, against it, then suctioning its painful, Sir Edmund Hilarious way back up, out of reach.
If it lets go and falls on my clean laundry, I think I may just have to kill myself.
Still, I guess it’s a step up from last year, when I had to pick mushrooms out of the carpet in my living room. I love my apartment: if I stay here long enough, eventually I’ll be able to farm salmon in the bathroom.
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Paging all colonic therapists, we have an emergency.
Woman expresses indignation at quote on Starbucks cup
…Printed on the cup was: “Why in moments of crisis do we ask God for strength and help? As cognitive beings, why would we ask something that may well be a figment of our imaginations for guidance? Why not search inside ourselves for the power to overcome? After all, we are strong enough to cause most of the catastrophes we need to endure.”
It is attributed to Bill Schell, a Starbucks customer from London, Ontario, and was included on the cup as part of an effort by the company to collect different viewpoints and spur discussion…
Starbucks spokeswoman Sanja Gould said the collection of thoughts and opinions is a “way to promote open, respectful conversation among a wide variety of individuals. ”
But Incanno said her Starbucks days are over.
“I wouldn’t feel right going back,” she said.
Door, ass, you know how it goes. This is the kind of thing that makes me glad I don’t work at Starbucks anymore. Not that I don’t enjoy interacting with the stupid and hysterical; in fact, I adore it. It’s just that … hmmm, how shall I put this???
Once, during my days as an assistant manager, I happened to have a performance review, and the manager of the time happened to be supportive of me and not particularly supportive of the way the company had decided to look for ways to divest itself of employee #202615, and he knew as well as I did that if I didn’t score “Outstanding” on the interpersonal part of the review, regional office would turf me. So he looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t think we need to discuss this part of the review. Given the difference between what you could say and what you do say, I’m giving you ‘Outstanding,’ on interpersonal skills,” and that, as they say, was that.
See, I actually slightly know the woman who had to play “evenhanded company spokesperson” here, and she’s always been very gracious no matter what the circumstances. That crazed, outraged, apparently-constipated-on-at-least-the-spiritual-level customer had better pray to her God that she encounter only such kind and mannerly spokespeople in the future, because if she ever crosses my path I’ll be bringing out the nukes.
Then again, there’s a reason companies don’t make me their spokesperson, the fucktards.
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When we’re young, so many mysterious, adult things enter our lives and we, oblivious in our innocence, never recognize them for what they truly are.
Thank God.
Then, one day Jackie Paper decides he has better things to do and turns his back on the world of childhood, perhaps forever. He turns the key in the lock and opens the door to adulthood.
Welcome to the machine, kid.
From the (disad-)vantage point of the grown up world, things look a little different. As there’s a subtle yet crucial difference in perspective from a grassy knoll to, say, a Book Depository window, so too adulthood’s viewpoint casts a different light and different shadows on old, familiar scenes.
Like the psychadelic magic mushroom land of HR Pufnstuf.
Pufnstuf was based upon the acid-induced dreams of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who claimed to have had the drug injected into him by his arch-nemesis, Antonio Salieri. During his hallucinogen-induced trip, Mozart completed all of his most widely-acclaimed works, including The Magic Flute, an opera about a magic flute.
Cooke took the concept of the magic flute and placed it loosely into the hands of a swinging, happy-go-lucky teenager named “Jack…”
The BBC recently announced plans to produce a new “reality” television series based on H.R. Pufnstuf, entitled H.R. Pufnstuff Idol. In the new show, contestants will be set afloat on a foam-rubber island ruled by the foam-rubber dragon. One team will try and protect a magic flute, while the other team tries to steal it. The team that fails to execute “Jimmy” will lose the immunity challenge, and it must select the weakest link who gets “Witchy Poo’d” upon.
The winner of each episode will win a position on the Dancing on Ice judging panel, a new washer and dryer, and all the Marmite they can eat. The second place winner wins a date with classic British beauty gone horribly bad, Jayne Torvill.
It will be a ratings monster.
No, I’m not sorry I said it.
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or at least Vancouver poet/accordionist/comedian Rowan Lipkovits is. Here he is at the Roxy, a barn-like nightclub for people under 25 looking to get A) shitfaced and B) laid. Watch and enjoy as he testifies to the fact that he is not exactly in their target demographic. The songs are Al Mader‘s I’m a Lousy Lover and Lipkovits‘ own elderly-tomcat theme, Cougar Man. UPDATE: Rowan reports that Cougar Man is a product of the genius of Peter Guindon, aka Bob Uker (as in ukulele-player), aka The Minoans.
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raincoaster 