RIP Paul the Psychic Octopus

Paul the Octopus had his troubles with the paparazzi

Paul the Octopus had his troubles with the paparazzi

Oh, Paul, we hardly knew ye. Let’s toast the Great One‘s memory with an Octopus’s Garden (otherwise known as an un-dry 3:1 Gin Martini with an Octopus and Olive garnish) and join in a rousing chorus of “Paul the Octopus.”

A planet mourns.

Before the World Cup, Paul’s powers were already known in Germany because he had correctly predicted four out of Germany’s five matches in the 2008 European Championship. But his clean sheet this year has made him immortal.

He helped to make the World Cup memorable. Just like everyone will remember the 2006 tournament in Germany for Zinedine Zidane’s astounding head butt, and the 1986 one in Mexico for Maradona’s “Hand of God” goal against England, South Africa will forever be associated with an octopus.

If he really was born in 2008, then Paul was nearing the end of his natural life. Octopuses only live three years on average and he was never going to be around for the next European Championship in 2012, let alone the World Cup in Brazil in 2014.But here is some comfort for football fans. “Behind the scenes, a young Paul is already acclimatizing himself, he was meant to be trained by Paul the First in the coming weeks,” aquarium officials said.

Fellow sea creatures will also benefit from his immortality in future. Oberhausen said it plans to donate some of its income from the sale of commercial rights relating to Paul — he adorns a clothes brand and adverts for a supermarket chain, for example — to help finance a rescue station for endangered turtles on the Greek island of Zakynthos.

 

In related news, file this necronautical cephalopod under “People who have (or had) way better jobs than you.” According to PopBitch, he was getting $80,000 per appearance at the time he died. In fact, he’s got a better job than Lindsay Lohan even though he’s dead: she lost her clothing line, and he’s still got his!

In related to related news, ain’t no way Germans are as smart as Wiartonians; when Wiarton Willie died, Wiarton just hushed it up in best Small Town Shirley Jackson Unspeakable Truth fashion and got themselves a new albino groundhog on the black albino groundhog market. If Germany had gone out and gotten a new octopsychic, very few people on the planet would have known the difference. I’m just sayin’, next time they should hire me as their cephalostrategic consultant.

In related to related to related news, who really thinks that a nine-year-old, healthy, coddled octopus with no prior history of ill-health suddenly kicks the bukkit? Not me, and probably not you either, if you’re a smartie, and I think you are because: look! you’re here! Do I sense the sneaky padding of meerkat paws behind the assassination? Did they test Pulpo Paul for Polonium?

Deadbeat Club Unicorn Chaser

It hasn't begun till the unicorn sings

It hasn't begun till the unicorn sings

So it’s a little later than Wednesday this week; still, you can always use a good unicorn chaser, can you not? And what could be perkier, happier, or more charming than the B-52’s singing the theme song of every blogger I know, Deadbeat Club?

I once had a Facebook group called that, for the purpose of hosting FNFF, short for Friday Night Fuck Fest, but consisting of people who generally have nothing better to do on a Friday night than sit at the computer, drinking, and commenting on other people’s websites. Which actually isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night, if you have half a bottle of something decent, a good connection, and time on your hands. Now that I don’t have an office, even a home office, anymore, those days are behind me. I swear, I’m paying so damn much for inferior coffee every damn day that I might as well just rent an office; it’d be cheaper.

Hence this choice of Unicorn Chaser.

It should also be noted that, after several years’ quest, I finally have that leopard coat. I do not, however, have the huge ’60’s eyes, but it’s on my wish list for the next life.

Deadbeat Club

I was good, I could talk

A mile a minute,

On this caffeine buzz I was on

We were really hummin’

We would talk every day for hours

We belong to the deadbeat club

Anyway we can,

We’re gonna find something

We’ll dance in the garden

In torn sheets in the rain

We’re the deadbeat club

We’re the deadbeat club
Going down to Allen’s for

A twenty-five cent beer

And the jukebox playing real loud,

“Ninety-six tears”

We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street

Wild girls and boys going out for a big time

Let’s go crash that party down

In Normaltown tonight

Then we’ll go skinny-dippin’

In the moonlight

We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street

Wild girls and boys going out for a big time

Anyway we can

We’re gonna find something

We’ll dance in the garden

In torn sheets in the rain

Chorus

Oh no! Here they come

The members of the deadbeat club

Sticks

 

Drive In Reality Theatre Peace Arch Crossing

Drive In Reality Theatre Peace Arch Crossing

 

Pretty nifty art, eh? Find out more about it at Wired. I think I liked it better when I thought it was a drive-in screen, but maybe I was just ….

projecting.

Oh, if only my old computer George were still with us! Truly should George’s passage be mourned throughout the interwebs, for upon George is the only copy I have of one of my best short stories, one that would be a perfect addendum to this post, about a middling hypnotist who gets to do his routine in front of a very posh crowd for once in his life, slightly overreaches, and accidentally drives the entire group of Bilderbergers irrevocably insane.

Oopsie.

As a replacement, please enjoy listening to this audiorecording of the somewhat absurd and extremely creepy Sticks, the only short story of Karl Edward Wagner‘s that I ever really liked (nice guy, but better editor than writer). Best listened to by candlelight, in a remote cabin in the woods.

Audio via RadioDramaRevival.com

Dawn of the Ted

Not to be mistaken for the I’m-sure-all-very-well-in-their-own-way series of educational videos that have shamelessly bandwagon-jumped on this nomenclature.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

Vincent Price two-times Coral Browne: shocking photo proof!

Vincent Price two-steps his way into infamy while two-timing Coral Browne

Vincent Price two-steps his way into infamy while two-timing Coral Browne with some scrawny Showbiz floozy

Oh, for shame! Vincent Price may have been famous as a horror villain (and sometimes hero, or at least protagonist) but never before has a whiff of this kind of rancid, decayed scandal been attached to his name. Really, you’d think he could have picked a girl with some meat on her bones!

MJ fans stopped, got enough (raincoaster)
Saturday Caption Contest: Johnny Depp 2.0 (Ayyyy)
Under New Management (ManoloFood)
The latest OH GOD IT CAN’T BE TRUE couple (CelebrityBeehive)
Walken in a winter wonderland (Lolebrity)
Bill and Ted’s not so excellent time machine (AgentBedhead)
Kathy Griffin has hit rock bottom (BusyBeeBlogger)
NOBODY messes with Joan Freaking Collins (CeleBitchy)
World’s worst couple back together (CelebDirtyLaundry)
When your star has faded, isn’t it “Cold boxing?” (CityRag)
Carousel of Couture (CojoStyle)
World welcomes two new Canadians (DailyStab)
Bert comes out (EvilBeet)
Celebrities bare their fangs (GirlsTalkinSmack)
Lady Gaga is a billionaire (HaveUHeard)
That’s 100,000 loonies, bitches! (INeedMyFix)
Mariah and mom come (JustJared)
Lock up your babehs! Madge is on the loose! (PerezHilton)
Britwick -> Lawyer’s office??? (PoorBritney)
Marky Mark vs Bieber Fever (SeriouslyOMG)