Category Archives: Weird

MC Nuts vs the Shat: rapping the classics, old skool

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I love that the YouTube post for the following says, with a boundless and entirely irrational optimism, “See http://www.utalkmarketing.com for more like this,” almost as if you’d want to. The shrivelled and crusty cockles of one’s heart are bewarméd at their boyish enthusiasm and entirely unjustifiable pride in product. You GO, girlfriends!

How not to rap the classics: with a cheap squirrel costume, rancid moves, a transparent mercenaric desperation to appeal to “yoof,” and an intrusive fake “street” accent, eg the Lake Country‘s tourism campaign’s would-be-viral video of Wordsworth‘s great Romantic poem, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud“.  

Contagious? Like ebola, baby! This thing has infected hard drives all over the world and, in fact, any laptop laid on a table that’s had an electronic device that has played this within the last thirty days is 80% likely to have its circuits liquified, spewing silicon in horrific gushes from every oriface.

Now, watch how it should be done, by that master of subtlety, The Shat!

Honestly, when William. Fucking. Shatner. pulls this off better than you, it’s time to turn in your Norton Anthology.

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attention plushie necrophiliacs!

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Of whom we’ve probably got a larger-than-average readership, here at the ol’ raincoaster blog, what with all our Plushie Cthulhu posts and suchlike.

 (okay, I give up on fixing this header)Cheeky the Woodchuck!

Cheeky the Woodchuck
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck had its cheeks and skull ripped out?  

We are simultaneously pleased and revolted to bring you the Circus of Disembowelled Plush Toys. The Thrills! The Horror! The Demented Experimentation!

Somebody call PETA: these mad monsters asking for yet more sick ‘n twisted photo contributions! Also be sure to check out their other galleries: the Museum of Food Anomalies and Bunnyocalypse: The Marshmallow Bunny Apocalypse.

You know you’ve always wanted to go all American Psycho on some Beanie Babies!

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soap, not dope: Don Bolles jailed over Dr. Bronner’s

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Never forget! 

Now I’m worried about the Cybergypsy. He’s been known to take trips to the United States of Amerika, and I happen to know that he’s in possession of a large bottle of this very (apparently-controlled) substance. Like very large. Like, this could be a fucking trafficking charge if he gets busted.

What the hell am I rambling about?

Don Bolles, drummer of the legendary punk band the Germs, was arrested for felony drug possession because he had a bottle of Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap in his van when he was pulled over for a busted tail light.

Sounds like a late April Fool’s joke; isn’t.

Should be.

Here, for general distribution, is the official press release from Dr. Bronner’s PR:

“Germ” Wrongly Jailed Over Soap

Absurd GHB Drug Charges for Don Bolles, Drummer of the “The Germs”, Stem From a Bottle of Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap Found in Van During Police Stop

an 8 ounce bottle? Not even enough to get a good buzzESCONDIDO, CA – The Bronner family, makers of the popular organic Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soaps are shocked and disturbed by musician Don Bolles’ April 4th arrest for felony drug possession after police alleged an 8oz bottle of peppermint Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soap tested positive for the illicit drug GHB (Gamma Hydroxy Butyrate). The notion that anyone would put GHB in a rinse-off liquid soap product is beyond belief, and the police field test used must have been flawed or tampered with. GHB, which produces euphoria and is an alleged aphrodisiac when ingested, of course has absolutely no effect in a soap product that is rinsed off the hands and body.

Mr. Bolles, drummer of the legendary punk band The Germs http://germsreturn.com/ was arrested following a police traffic stop and spent three and half days in various jailsin Orange County before being released early Easter morning. During a consented search of Mr. Bolles vintage 1968 A-108 van, Newport Beach police found a bottle of peppermint Dr. Bronner’s soap which is made with organic coconut, olive, hemp, peppermint and jojoba oils. Felony drug possession could mean 20 years in prison if convicted. A pretrial hearing is scheduled for Friday, April 13, 2007 at the Harbor Justice Center, 4601 Jamboree Road Newport Beach, CA at 8:30am.

“I’ve used only Dr. Bronner’s soap for 35 years,” says Mr. Bolles. “I use it for everything – bathing, washing my hair, washing my clothes – it goes everywhere I go. I’m scheduled to go to Europe to tour with The Germs this summer, but these felony charges could keep me from traveling out of the country. This whole thing could be really devastating to a 50 year old guy just trying to make a living. I told the officer ‘its soap, it smells like peppermint soap,’ but he seemed intent on arresting me.”

“It is totally outrageous that the police could be this malicious and idiotic,” says Michael Bronner, Vice-President of Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soaps. “This clearly is a case of profiling by the Newport Beach police of a person who doesn’t look like the people who live in that town. We are paying the cost of Mr. Bolle’s lawyer, and we demand the charges be dropped or proof from the police forensics lab of GHB contamination be immediately provided to us,” said Bronner. Adds brother David Bronner, President: “We cannot imagine anyone putting GHB, or any other drug for that matter, into a rinse-off soap product that is lathered and rinsed off the body immediately. The Newport Beach police should see how much of a buzz putting beer in their shampoo gives them, and get a grip and apologize on their hands and knees to Mr. Bolles.”

At the time of the arrest Mr. Bowles was driving his girlfriend, and fellow musician Cat Scandal to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in Newport Beach. “I had heard of GHB but the police had to tell me what it was,” said Bolles. “I’m going to fight these charges.”

To arrange an interview with Don Bolles, Michael Bronner or David Bronner please contact Adam Eidinger at 202-744-2671

Omigod, I just remembered: the Cybergypsyleft me a bottle of this soap too! And I had a bath with it just today! Omigodomigod brb d00d, got 2 sterilize th scene, but 1st…hmm, what’s good for barricading patio doors? And hey, is anybody else up for some nachos?

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Berlin Wall stolen!

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This very piece of the Wall was stolen 

I. Am. Serious.

In the middle of the night over the quiet holiday weekend, a huge section of the historic Berlin Wall was removed and transported to destinations unknown without warning. The theft was discovered, of course, when the usual flock of tourists arrived to photograph the famous Cold War monument and its artistic and legended graffitti and found…

air.

Who pulled off this brazen heist? Who felt the need for anonymity so deep that it paid double- or triple-time to remove a massive wall over the quietest weekend of the year, one devoted to family and the remembrance of the death of Jesus, and under cover of the deepest darkness?

The usual suspect.

The Guardian has the full report:

After a couple of days spent keeping its head down, the government finally owned up. The federal civil engineering and planning office said it had removed the panels so that construction of the new environment ministry could go ahead on the site.

Quick to attempt to heal the public relations gaffe, a spokeswoman for the planning office said the intention was to eventually incorporate the strip of wall into a visitor centre of the ministry, which onlookers would be able to view through a window. She said the missing segment had been put in storage and was being professionally restored.

Of course, we’ve all heard that one before.

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speed dating and the flaw-o-matic

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Speed Dating...oh, you missed it! Gotta be faster next time! 

Well naturally a love theory called the Flaw-O-Matic would originate from New York. Ronald Perelman gets all the hotties he can handle…there’s obviously some complicated yet brutal math going on behind the false eyelashes and toupees.

They found that a 5-foot-8 man was just as successful in getting dates as a 6-footer if he made more money — precisely $146,000 a year more. For a 5-foot-2 man, the number was $277,000…

Customers of online dating services typically end up going out with fewer than 1 percent of the people whose profiles they study online. But something very different happens at a speed-dating event. The average participant makes a match with at least 1 in 10 of the people they meet; some studies have found the average is 2 or 3 out of 10. Women are still pickier than men, and in some speed-dating experiments they still prefer affluent, well-educated men, but the preference is less strong — and in some other studies they don’t discriminate at all by income or social status.

What happens to speed daters’ Flaw-O-Matics? The people at these events realize that there aren’t an infinite number of possibilities. If they want to get anything out of the evening, they have to settle for less than perfection. They also can’t help noticing that they have competition, and that their ideal partner just might prefer someone else.

Well imagine that! Almost like in real life (oops, sorry, TMI, do not adjust your blogs, I’ll just go back to listening to Nine Inch Nails, nothing to see here).

Also, here’s a related Mister Science podcast on the Science of Speed Dating, including whether or not to choose a porn name for your tag or play it straight, so to speak.

So, distilled, the deal is that speed dating is far more likely to result in a date or three than Internet dating, even if you’re short or poor. The article doesn’t talk about the women much because, I suppose, that would be contentious what with the “there are no ugly women, only lazy ones” quotations and The Swan and the ever-popular Sex and the City myth that with fabulous hair and a good stylist even Secretariat could pull a man.

The true secret is towards the end of the article; it turns out being generally genial is probably the key to my problem in this department. Seems people don’t want to date people who are friendly to everyone; they want to feel that you’re being nice to them as an exception to your normal routine, which presumably includes blasting members of the opposite sex with the deadly laser beams from your eyes, cracking them across the face with your taloned hand and kneeing them in the groin by way of hello. Okay, so back to standard greeting procedures for me then.

The New York dating scene; it’s a jungle out there! Or at least downtown Tokyo, circa  1954.

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