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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a little late for Pride weekend

Still, better late than never. Here’s a delightful musical number from The Kids in the Hall‘s movie Brain Candy.

Machu PicchuMy friends Jaime and Terry took me to see that when I was going through chemo and not getting out of the house much. This was about the stage where the little hair I had left was as thin as a baby’s and you could see the shape of my skull right through it. Let me tell you, not everyone can carry off the Sinead O’Connor look. Natalie Portman, with her beautifully rounded cranium, is a lucky bitch: my head looked far too much like Machu Picchu for my liking.

In any case, I had never seen my friends squirm as much as they did at this movie, which they did in unison, at the precise moment that Cancer Boy came on. I swear to god, they are each over six feet tall but within seconds they could easily have fit in a shoebox, they shrank so much. Also assumed the fetal position. I think their testicles are still retracted.

I never laughed so hard!

So here’s another snippet of the movie, for all the Friends of Dorothy on the ol’ raincoaster blog.

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alternate ending: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

I like it: how about you? Surely any fan of the immortal Indiana Jones should prefer this, rather tidier ending to the least terminable book in the series.

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US National Sandwich Month: what’s your dream sandwich?

Sandwich art

Go on, you know how to use the Comments section!

UPI, in a healthy-eating initiative, has spread the word that August is National Sandwich Month in the US, if not in the land of the Sandwich‘s birth. And indeed, the sandwich is an invention to be celebrated: you’ll note there is no such thing as “National Carpal Tunnel Syndrome Month” or “National Misogyny Month”.

With or without mayonnaise, seafood- or meat-based, buttered or margarined or dry, the sandwich is truly one of the highest achievements of the culinary arts and should be rightly honoured in its course.

As with anything that lays as close to the human heart as the sandwich, we all have our own preferences and prejudices. We all have our unique tastes. And I invite you to contribute yours, twofold, in the comments section.

I’ll go first:

1) Clooney, raincoaster, Rickman.

2) Croissant, avocado, shrimp, mayo, sprouts.

Yeah, bit of a comedown, so to speak. But a girl has to keep her strength up somehow!

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Samuel L. Jackson’s New Year’s Resolutions

Samuel L. Jackson. Sam is the man!

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.

 


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