2.27.2009

I'm in Florida now!

This is a shot right before I boarded my plane in Toronto. Please note how depressing and rainy it is. Also note that it is dark...I was at the airport at 6am! Lord love a duck, that is too early for me, friends. Anyways, I took 1 plane to Miami (not as fun as the Will Smith song. Their airport is like something from The 3 Little Pigs; made of sticks and garbage and full of fat pigs). Then I took another plane to Tampa (the Wal-Mart of Florida) and I have been walking around in the sand and licking my fingers (they taste like salt water!) That's it for today - I'm about to go and get some din-din (aka Gator Meat) and drink a beer on the balcony.

Thanks go out to Chilis, for being a bastard and not having a location in the Miami airport, and American Airlines, for not dumping my ass in the Hudson River.

2.26.2009

Tomorrow Begins Florida Week!!!

Wait, what? I was hoping to get a picture of Florida the state...not the mother from Good Times. Can I get a picture of Florida, please?
Come on, who put that up there?!? That's a picture of Flo Rida, the piss-poor rapper. Goddamn it, do I have to do everything myself?
Fuck off!! That's the album Florida by DJ Diplo. I am not in the mood for this, people! I have to wake my ass up at 5am tomorrow to get on a plane headed for Chicago, then get on another plane headed for Tampa (aka The Walmart of Florida).
There we go! Florida. The Sunshine State. Wait...is that California? No no, the sunshine state is Florida.
Stop it! I said Florida! I know, that joke is so hackneyd. I know I spelled that wrong, and I don't give a crap. Okay, so here is the plan; I will be live-blogging all week in the Sunshine State (aka Big Poppa OJ) on a variety of awesome stuff. Seashells, sand, water, jellyfish, those weird shits that wash up on shore and they look like cabbages (what are those things? I think it's a Man-O-War) American Cereals, American foods (grits and sawmill gravy!!). Really, just the differences between America and Canada. I mean, I've been there tons of times, but everytime I'm in Merica, I get this weird pride feeling. I can't explain it. Makes me want to bust out the Toby Keith.

Anyways, check in daily cause I will have lots to report! Lots of pictures (none of me in a bathing suit...don't worry).

2.23.2009

The 81st Annual Academy Awards aka The Night I repeatedly yelled out HELL TO THE NO, BOBBY B!

Okay, so since this is my third annual Oscar Awards post, you should know by now that I love the Oscars. The Oscar Awards are like Crystal Meth: they are long and drawn out and you feel like shit for sitting and watching it and it's so predictable and you always look like hell the morning after. And yet? I still will watch all 5-billion hours of it. I will watch E! Live On The Red Carpet. I will watch the Gamgam Walters interviews. I love it all.

I even watch it knowing I might be very, very dissapointed. Please see above. Look at La Rourke; so dapper in his little suit, his shoes all shiny. Little picture of Loki on his necklace (tear!). Got-dayum, he is like the white woman's Denzel (um...what?) This was supposed to be Mickey's year! He has won 10,000 other awards for his portrayal of Randy The Ram (aka Randy The Only Guy Who Works in the Meat Department of the Grocery Store I Would Totally Sleep With) and last night, when they announced who the Lead Actor in a Motion Picture award was going to...NOTHING. In the sort-of words of Kanye/Michael K of Dlisted: THAT IS SOME ZOOLANDER SHIT!! They were calling the name Sean Penn and you could see La Rourke getting out of his seat. And, quite frankly, Sean Penn has enough Oscars. I just checked, and apparently he only has 2. But still, he has a shitload of nominations under his belt. GODDAMN, THIS WAS MICKEY ROURKE'S YEAR! Give him your Milk Oscar, damnit!

Ugh, moving on. Here are some more Potent Notables from last night:

- I do NOT like the way they announced the Acting nominees. I hated how it was like a 10-person circle jerk. 5 actors/actresses standing on stage giving little bullshit speeches with long drawn-out pauses. "Angelina......Jolie. Your por....trayal. Of a Mother. In the 1920s. Was....so....moving. You brought. Life. To this role" and bla and bla and bla. And then the nominees are sitting back in their little seats with teary eyes doing that fucking fake-ass prayer-hands-to-their-lips shit. You know what I'm talking about? Then they open their hands, like they're offering birdseed to finches, and mouth Thank You or I Love You and it's SO PHONY.

- The only one who keeps it real, year after year, is Meryl Streep. You can tell that she is looking around at all these weepy dumbasses with their sad-sack speeches in their hands and is thinking "Enjoy it, douchbags. Next year, you'll be watching the Oscars on your couch in your sweats. I'll be here. I could shit on a kitten and they'll give me a Nomination for it". Plus, Meryl Streep is badass - anyone who can be nominated for the most Academy Awards ever and be the star of Death Becomes Her and She-Devil is alright in my books.

- Where was Jack Nicholson?!?!

- Hugh Jackman is amazing. I really don't think people take him seriously (not that starring in that shit-show Australia helps). The man is hot as hell, has an accent, is buff enough to play Wolverine, is gay enough to star in Broadway plays (which he won a Tony, bt-dubs), is funny, was Van Helsing, is charming, and apparently he is just a peach to meet in person. Normally I consider singing to be the lowest form of communication (just lower than Mime) but I really enjoyed his musical numbers! I hope he hosts again next year (shirtless, pls).

- Viola Davis was r-r-r-robbed too! Penelope Cruz is adorable and everything, but was she that good in Vicky-Christina-Whatever? Did she play an abused wife and the mother to a gay, possibly-being-molested, son? I didn't think so.

- I think that Phillip Seymour Hoffman got a kick out of Alan Arkin announcing his name wrong (Seymour Phillip Hoffman). Look, if Peepaw Arkin wants to call you Jimmy Jackson, let him call you Jimmy Jackson.

- I can't wait for the day when Beyonce isn't relevant anymore. Also, did we really need Vanessa-n-Zac Efron to help sing that medley? Oh wait, yes we did, because Amanda Seyfried CAN'T SING.

- That set was great. I have nothing bad to say about it.

- That eyeball-deathmatch between Angie-Jo and Aniston was nothing to write home about. Angie looked smug (as usual. Beautiful, but smug as hell) and Aniston was funny and charming and very beachy. Liked her hair. Who won? Nobody won, you idiot! Brad left her 4 years ago, let's get over it, shall we??

- Ben Stiller dressing up as MC Bed-Bugs-Beard was amazing. I love that the man was nominated for Best Actor at the 73rd and 79th Academy Awards, and then they are lampooning his ass at the 81st Academy Awards.

- There should have been more WALL-E.

- There should have been more Paul Newman footage during the "Peaced Out This Year" tribute.

- Ricky Gervais was right - a surefire way to win an Oscar is to do a film about the Holocaust.

- HOW AMAZING IS JERRY LEWIS?!?! I will let some of his less-than-amazing comments slide because the man does have a big heart.

- Kunio Kato: "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto". Amazing.

- I got teary-eyed when Heath Ledger's family accepted his award.

- And finally, I haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire. There, I said it! I might go see it now.

2.18.2009

Rest in Peace, Lil' Angel

Click here to make big (...and your heart sad).

I don't know if you are familiar with the ins and outs of Mickey Rourke's life, but a few things are constant:

- La Rourke is always very glamorous and well-dressed
- La Rourke never smells like stale beer and Cheetos
- La Rourke is an amazing rassler (it's not an act!)
- If you are nominated for an award in the same category as La Rourke, you will lose
- La Rourke's red carpet date is always his chee-a-hoo-a-hoo-a Loki

But sadly, this Sunday Mickey won't be bringing little Loki to the 81st Academy Awards...because she is in Goggie Heaven. Mickey has been known to adopt many a stray or near-death puppers, but Loki was his favourite. He took her to the Golden Globes, the SAGs, strip clubs, shopping on Rodeo Drive, to the Lil Wayne show, everything. And now, the only place 18 year old Loki is going is into the oven to be smelted down with about 20 other dogs (WHAT? That's how it's done people. You think the only ashes in that urn on your mantle are Patchie's? Nope. You got a cocktail of Patchie, Snuffy, Rover Hendrix et al).

But while many of you believe that Loki is in Goggie Heaven, I believe she is on Rainbow Bridge. What is Rainbow Bridge, you ask? Well let me tell you! It's only my favourite thing to talk about! When your pet dies, it goes to the Rainbow Bridge. It's a great place where all the pets get their favourite snacks and their nuts back. The Rainbow Bridge also connects Earth and People Heaven (kind of like a highway, or a toll freeway). Anyways, when you die, you need to take the Rainbow Bridge to get to Heaven. Along the way, you will be reunited with your pets! Then you all walk through the gates of Heaven together! Awww, I know, right? Anyways, Loki will be waiting for Randy The Ram Robinson on the Rainbow Bridge, and that ain't half bad.

2.17.2009

I saw Michael Cera this morning!!

Oh. Mah. Gawd. Furreal, I saw my future husband and true love Michael Cera on my way to work this morning. I was on the streetcar and he drove past me in his Toyota (HE'S SO HUMBLE!!!) and he was looking very cautious (HE CARES ABOUT THE SAFETY OF OTHERS). He is just as beautiful in real life as he is on Arrested Development (HANDSOME LIKE JESUS). Also, it was this morning at 7:45am, which means he was probably off to the nursing home to give his Gam-Gam a sponge bath or the SPCA to feed kittens (THEY'RE ON A TIGHT SCHEDULE).

Also he looked at me (OUR EYES MET, WHICH MEANS WE ARE SOULMATES) and I think he might have mouthed the words I love You (PROBABLY NOT). Anyways, you know it's an exciting day for me when I see a 20-year-old sort-of celebrity. Actually, can we upgrade Cera's status to full-blown celebrity (JONAS BROTHERS!)? Because he is in a lot of hit movies and I would go so far as to say that he is well-respected in Hollywood (UNLIKE ANDY DICK). Know what would have been better, though? Seeing Michael Cera and Jonah Hill.

UPDATE! I just checked Wikipedia and it turns out Michael Cera is dating Charlyne Yi (Martin Starr's Asian girlfriend from Knocked Up). She is 32 (TOO OLD FOR YOU, MICHAEL!) which honestly, I think he would be better suited to a non-Asian 25-year-old who is very funny also and is definitely working on her acne problem (IT'S NOT THAT BAD!!)

2.12.2009

MY VALENTINE'S CARD WAS CHOSEN BY CRACKED.COM!!!

Happy Almost Valentine's Day, urrbods!! I'm just as happy as a squirel with a nut, cause a fake Valentine's Day card I submitted to a cracked.com contest was chosen!

Click here to check it out! It didn't win, but #15 ain't a kick in the teeth, so I'm alright! Also, it was made in Microsoft Paint, but you can barely tell. I HAVE SKILLZ.

2.10.2009

I ♥ Infomercials!

As I mentioned last week, I watch Infomercials like they are real TV shows. Sometimes I get attached to the gripping, well thought out characters (The Magic Bullet). Other times I develop a crush on the host (Sham-Wow, Slap-Chop). But mostly I just love them for their poor production values and terrible editing. There are so many elements to a good Infomercial, but if you really want to pro-it-up, you should have either of the following elements:

"That Guy"
- He's the voice-over artist (I call him an artist, because he truly has developed his craft) who always introduces the Infomercial by posing a question. I also like how he speaks directly to me; it's very personal. I feel like I'm having a heart-to-heart with God.

Struggling
- Oh my god, the struggling these people do! Have you ever seen someone try to clean up a cola spill with a Sophie's Choice-look on their face in real life? Of course not! But the world of Infomercials has a different set of rules; in Informercial Land, everyone has aneurysm when faced with simple, rudimentary tasks like washing the car or brushing the cat.

So without further ado (and because you would all have my head on a stake, Lord of the Flies-style, if I didn't do a post about them) here are my favourite Infomercials!


It's 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon...what the hell am I going to learn about for 30 minutes? The Ped-Egg!!!

What does That Guy have to say about it?
Are you embarrassed by ugly feet in sexy sandals?

This one is definitely my favourite of last year. I am partial to beauty-based products, as they make me feel like I'm a hideous ogre without them. Every time I see this infomercial, I always look down at my feet and go "wow. They're right. I really need that. Who am I trying to kid, putting sexy shoes on ugly feet?" But my favourite part is at 0:43 where they do the side-by-side: since when does the Ped-Egg cause your toes to shrink and your footbed to widen? That's some clumsy photoshop, my friends. Also good? Pause it at 0:52 to watch her dump skin callouses all over her towel. Fuck, that's pretty gross.


It's 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon...what the hell am I going to learn about for 30 minutes? My Lil Reminder!!!

What does That Guy have to say about it?
Ugh, nothing. Instead we have That Guy's annoying, smart-alec wife.

I love this one because they talk to you like you just had a lobotomy or you fall in and out of comas. But everyone in this Infomercial is a fucking riot. The dad at 0:41 who's bopping his head to his message like he's listening to Zepplin. Or the "student" (aka Quest Personals actress taking time to earn a little extra $$) at 0:53 who needs to remind herself that she needs to read "Chapters 6 and 7 for Friday". Of course she has to use My Lil Reminder! She can't just whip out a pen and write that down! You know, it's not like she's IN CLASS TAKING NOTES ALREADY. But I especially love the mom giving it to the kid: "Don't forget Jimmy, I'll be at Grandmas. You're too much of a fucking Ginger, so you have to stay here while we eat ice cream and have fun without you".


It's 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon...what the hell am I going to learn about for 30 minutes? The Shed Ender!!!

What does That Guy have to say about it?
Goddamn, it's his fucking wife again!

The Shed Ender is one of those truly amazing infomercials because it combines two of my favourite things: before-and-afters, and heavily-sedated animals. Stop it at 0:47 - and imagine the cat going "no I don't". Okay, I also did a bit more research, and apparently there is another similar product out there called the FURminator. That's a way better name! Why don't they have an infomercial? It would be like Lazer Cats plus grooming.


It's 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon...what the hell am I going to learn about for 30 minutes? The Slap-Chop!!!

What does That Guy have to say about it?
Nothing! He's MIA!! But thankfully, he has been replaced by Heaven's Li'lest Angel, Vince. Swoon.

"You'll be in a great mood all day, cause you'll be slappin' your troubles away". Oooooh...can we quickly go check Chris Brown's house for a Slap-Chop? (Too soon?)


It's 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon...what the hell am I going to learn about for 30 minutes? The Magic Bullet!!!

What does That Guy have to say about it?
He's not here, either. But he doesn't have to be - the Magic Bullet sells itself!

This is like the Citizen Kane of Infomercials, people. I cannot even fathom the budget for this spot. Definitely in the 3-digit range. There are like, a-hunderd reasons why this is my favourite infomercial of all time. Firstly, it's twice as long as a regular infomercial (see why I've posted two clips). They barely repeat scenes and work in real-time (I believe it was the inspiration for the television show 24). Next, will you take a look at this cast; is this the morning after a swinger's party or something? This is a full cast! The Magic Bullet infomercial breaks down the typical tagteam between Harried Mom and That Guy; instead we're treated to a whole cast of totally believable, absolutely not hired by a casting director, group of friends. Let's take a look at them, shall we?

Husband & Wife - this is their house, and don't let that casual jean-shirt fool you; this guy's all business! Marble countertops, luxury kitchen, never-ending supply of food; he's clearly a player in the go-go world of finance or hustling. Plus he's British, so you know he's got class up the keister. His wife is a dead-ringer for Grace Kelly and probably owns her own jewelry business or scrapbooking supply company. I'd say she should be part of the cast of The Real Housewives of Orange County, but she's too sophisticated for that garbage.

Hawaiian Shirt Guy & Wife, Plaid Shirt "King of Queens" Guy & His Prostitute - all just white noise when it comes to the next two "stars" of the show...

Berman - the group's out-of-work alcoholic friend who clearly slept in a dumpster the night before and who is a total dick and won't stop being a skeptical bastard.

Hazel - their...maid? Crazy schizophrenic aunt? I dunno, but I do love the way she rocks a filmy muumuu and let's 8 inches of ash hang off her smokes.

I also enjoy that they never call it a blender. It's a personal versatile countertop magician. Of course! Because blender is too much of a mouthful.

Oh my god! So much fun news! I just pissed a little!

I couldn't pick a fitting image for today, so I decided to simply go with what works; a fat li'l skeewurl. Come on, don't tell me you don't want to pick his pudgy little ass up and give him a cuddle! I mean, sure, he'll probably bite you and give you rabies (or at least little lice-like parasites) but for the 3 seconds leading up to that bite, he'll be the cutest little cottonball you've ever snorgled. I was once bit by a chipmunk and it was so damned cute I couldn't complain. But that fucker BIT ME, let me tell you. It wasn't a nip or a pinch; he got me with a whole mouth of teefs. Did I learn my lesson? No. I picked him up again and he bit me again. Swoon. Animals always tell you how they're really feeling.

Anyways, there is lots to report today! So if you were looking for a funny post about...ugh, I dunno, squirel bites, then you already got it. Go back to bed. Nothing to see here. Alright, so first things first. America's Next Top Model, Cycle 12: The Dirty Dozen begins February 25th. That means 2 weeks and a day! I am mega-pumped, but I know you turds have been losing interest. So to remedy this, I am bringing on a SHINY NEW GUEST! I know you guys loved when Intern Tylerface was around, and I don't blame you. That kid is alright with me. But he has to get his shit together and graduate High School, otherwise he'll be stuck writing a blog for the rest of his life. And take it from this one: NOT A GOOD LIFE PATH TO CHOOSE. So anyways, Tylerface: Out! And who will be filling his very funny shoes? Well of course I could only replace him with someone who's name sounds very similar (years and years of standing too close to the microwave in the name of trying to obtain superpowers have left me with little more than a blank stare and huh?s and what?s). So this Cycle I will be mercilessly cutting down and making fun of sad-sack Sears Catalogue models with none other than...Ty from Tyland! This is going to be very interesting, as if you have ever read his work (cammon, I've posted links many times before) he is notoriously high-brow. This will be like Sarah Silverman working with Robert Frost. Or Dan Rather. Or John Updike. Basically what I'm getting at is Ty from Tyland writes well and I write poo jokes (hey, they're my bread and butter).

Also new news! This weekend I'll be blogging about going to the nerdyest nerd gathering this side of a party at Seth Green's house. I'm going to PodCamp! Two full days of seminars and chit-chats about blogging. They might as well just re-name this The One Weekend a Year Where Inside Kids Leave Their Houses. I think it will be fun, but don't trust me - I love nerdy shit like this. Plus, Molson is a sponsor, so that can only mean one thing...free booze!

(Internal Monologue: it BETTER mean free booze).

UPDATE!
I have been told by my very observant, much more internet-savvy mother that PodCamp is NEXT WEEKEND. I am bummed like you have no idea. I was really looking forward to hanging out with a plethora of pasty-faced oatmeal-smelling inside kids all weekend. Gah! What will I do now? (Don't say get a life, you fuckers. I don't need that shit right now)

And finally, for 7 days I will be blogging away from the comfort of my dimly-lit home in Toronto and instead will be coming to you from where Gam-Gams go to die....FLORIDA!! That's right! This year I am taking a much-needed vacation and will be going to Florida, and of course I will be blogging every step of the way! You know how much I love 'Merica, so this will be a real treat for me. Plus, I get an amazing stop-over on the way to the Big F; Dallas. I can't wait, I am so pumped! I have never been to Texas. Although my sister wrote in her diary (when she was like, 6, mind you) that her "greatest wish" was for me to "take a trip to Texas and die there". So yeah, I might not be coming home. More about that story later (actually, no. There isn't really much to add. She wanted me to go to Texas. And die there. End of story).

So yeah! That's all for now, friends! And if you're in the Toronto area and want to come to PodCamp, it's Free! That means that you may get free stuff and hear neato stuff about blogging and podcasting. Also, you may get beer out of it, so that's not all bad. And you might see me, The Mayor! Although you will have no idea what I look like, just keep you eyes peeled for the lumbering, drooling, blonde doofus sniffing out beer.

2.09.2009

WARNING! Do NOT see Coraline high out of your mind.

First off, kids...don't do drugs. I mean, I know your dumb asses are going to put anything and everything in your mouths, just watch your asses, k? Don't fuck with meth and heroin, and if I ever catch you smoking crack I will deliver the beat-down your parents forgot to give you years ago. Capeiche?

(Internal monologue moment: Weed isn't a drug, but just like McDonalds, if you put too much of that shit in your mouth, you will become a fucking loser.)

Anyways, this weekend I went to see Coraline. Now, I need to stress one thing - I love being hiiiigh as a fucking kite. Hell, the man who collects my recycling can attest to that; I must throw out 60-70 empty Computer Duster cans each week. Just in case you were wondering, my brand is Grand & Toy generic; I like to be thrifty. (Editor's Note: my sister told me it sounds like I have left the world of 'joking' and crossed into the world of 'serious'. I need to stress: I don't actually spend my days high out of my mind. The only time I'm high is when I enter a Taco Bell. That shit is euphoric).

But where was I going with this? Ah yes, I'm not one of those people who like to see movies high. I like to be 100% there. If I'm paying $14 to see a movie you know I want to come out 2 hours later remembering where the hell I just was. And yes, I still go to Multi-Plexes and pay insane prices. I like the over-stuffed chairs, the arm-rests, the assurance that rats haven't been sleeping in the popcorn and that there won't be a homeless person masturbating over my shoulder. So sue me. And just like a suburban goth 14-year-old Hot Topic-enthusiast, I love The Nightmare Before Christmas. It's beautiful. I also like Corpse Bride, but not as much; Helena Bonham Carter just doesn't sift my sugar. And Jonny Depp is only really good when he isn't in puppet form (ie. you can see his handsome, handsome face). But Coraline is so much better than both. The story is just tremendous and the stop-motion animation is incredible. When I say incredible, I mean it is one hell of a mindfuck, people. You cannot believe that what you are looking at is 100% real. She has teeny-tiny knitted mittens, people. He hair is made of individual strands. Steam comes out of a kettle and it's actually cotton.

In case you are unfamiliar, Coraline is the story of a young girl who moves with her parents into a remote Victorian that has been divided into apartments. In general, she is not happy - her parents, busy with their writing careers, are a bit neglectful, and her neighbors are weird. One day she finds a small door and tunnel which leads her to the Other World. It's the same as her world, but much better; her parents are wonderful and everything is beautiful. Except everyone has buttons for eyes. This is where we get into the whole 'don't do drugs before seeing this movie' bit. Anyways, the Other Mother turns into a bitch and it's discovered that she has killed little children or some shit. Also, Coraline can't go back to her regular house because of...I dunno...some space-time continuim. Long story short, if she doesn't rescue her parents and stuff, then the Other Mother will pick out her eyes and sew in buttons. Weird!!! Okay, let's get to the Don't Do Drugs diatribe. While Coraline is amazing and visually stunning and the music is great and the voices are terrific (Dakota Fanning! John Hodgman! The AbFab ladies!) it is SO. EFFING. SCARY. Holy shit, it gets very very creepy and makes you feel very very uneasy. For instance. There is a talking cat in the movie who helps Coraline. He sees this adorable mouse and kills it. When he does, the mouse turns into a disgusting rat. I know, right?? Also there are Scotty Dog vampire bats, her friend's face gets a permanent smile stitched into it, her Other Father starts fucking melting, etc etc etc oh my god, why was it so creepy?!?!?!?! Take The Nightmare Before Christmas and turn the Dial-O-Weird up about 11 notches. Then add a bit of John Waters, that batshit-creepy version of Wizard of Oz with Fairuza Balk, your worst nightmares, that time you did shrooms and watched The Sixth Sense, everytime someone has hidden behind a door and scared you, and Jocelyn Wildenstein. Do you understand why I'm asking you not to get stoned before you see this movie?? I don't want you to have nightmares for weeks, people! I'm just out to protect your asses!!

Do I Give this Shit a Rating?
A+
It is definitely worth that plus sign, my friends. Let's compare it to WALL-E for a second. Is it as good as WALL-E? Yes, absolutely. Is the story as original? Yes, actually. Just like WALL-E is a plucky little robot underdog, it is nice to see a movie hero who is a) a girl and b) not a princess and c) actually very heroic. Would I buy this on DVD? No, but that's cause I'm cheap and I steal movies off the internet. Should you buy it? Sure, go nuts. Would I bring my 5-year-old cousin to see this? Hay-ull to the No, Bobby B! I can't afford therapy bills!

2.05.2009

"Fuckin...green-to-white technology"

Hey turds! Okay, so listen...you all know how much I love infomercials. I watch them like they are actual TV shows. Maybe I have mental problems, or maybe I have mental problems. Look, it's not up for debate. The point is, infomercials are amazing - they show you an amazingly useless product, add a couple of idiot fuck-up actors who's sole job is to act baffled at what they see, spend between 30 to 60 minutes shouting at you to break your spirits and make you feel like a turkey sandwich for not owning one, and then they throw a cheap price in your face. Plus, there are usually a lot of spinning graphics and bright colours, which always keeps me interested, particularily when I am high out of my fucking skull. One of my favourite things to do is to curl up in my bed with a bag of Doritos, a bottle of Pepto, a can of duster, and a raging hang-over, and watch someone try to sell me the Magic Bullet or the Pedi-Egg. And it always almost works! I say almost, cause I'm broke as country folk, so no matter how much I want it, I can never, ever afford it. Infomercials are a big tease.

Anyways, you probably all know who Billy Mays is - he sells Oxy Clean and a bunch of other pieces of shit that WalMart/Middle America just eats up. In the clip below he is selling some kind of putty that has been injected with Magic Jesus Steroids so that it can bond to anything. BUT the real gift here is that someone has re-dubbed the commercial so well, that it is almost exactly how I would describe the product if I were relaying all the information to my friends. It's amazing. I want the guy who re-dubbed this to narrate the birth of my first child (if it can survive the years of abuse my uterus has taken from Diet Coke).

Next we have my future husband, Vince, who will make you feel like shit for not owning a Sham-Wow. Seriously, listen to the tone of his voice and tell me he isn't thinking "Goddamn, you people are so stupid...I can't believe you don't own like 9 of these fuckers by now. I am just shaking my head in disbelief that you continue to purchase paper towels. You are all suckers."

I double-checked to see if he had a Wikipedia page. He does (praise Jesus) and I learned that he is 44 years old. Fuhrull?? He doesn't look a day over Methface. But I'm dead serious when I say I would sleep with Vince (who's last name is Offer, btw. So many jokes...I'll let you have them, it's too easy). He is fiiiiiine. I love that one wonky eye and his abrasive, aggressive demeanor. I'd bet dollars to donuts that he needs to be choked to maintain an erection. What a dream. He'd treat you like crap and then when it was done, he'd pester you till you went out and bought him Burger King (I have a feeling Vince is a Whopper kind of guy). Then he'd spill shit all over your couch and tell you to "call up Billy Mays and have him clean it" all while laughing uncontrollably.

2.03.2009

Have you ever tried explaining Groundhog Day to someone?

There's a section in Me Talk Pretty One Day where David Sedaris explains to his fellow classmates in a Paris language school who the Easter Bunny is. Apparently, like Christmas, Easter is celebrated in several different ways across the globe; only in North American homes will you find chocolate eggs hidden in your couch and on your stairs. It's just such an ignorant thought, that if we celebrate something here in Canada or the US, that everybody must celebrate it too. Everyone drinks green beer in March in Uganda, right? So last night I was presented with a question so baffling that I was almost unable to answer it. I was at my weekly volunteer stint where I tutor High School students till 6pm and I was working with one of my regulars, a 16-year-old girl from China. In the middle of me trying to explain Grade 11 Algebra (which I completely failed when I was in Grade 11) she asked me this:

"What is the holiday today where there is an animal?"

Excuse me? What holiday are you talking about? What animal? My first instinct was to say Chinese New Year. Yeah, as if she was unsure of one of the biggest Holidays in her own culture. I then realized she meant Groundhog Day, aka the most important weather-determining technology we in the Western World have. More important than Doppler 7 Radar.

She then asked what is a groundhog? Why do we celebrate this holiday? Is the groundhog magic? Why did I have to go to school today? Wow, where do I even start? The conversation went a little like this:

Myself: Okay, well, a groundhog is like a beaver without the tail that lives in holes in the ground. I don't think farmers like them. They maybe eat carrots or telephone cables, I dunno.

New Groundhog Enthusiast: Is a groundhog a pig?

Myself: No no, it's actually not a hog at all. It's a very fat rodent. It sort of looks like a Prairie Dog.

New Groundhog Enthusiast: What's a prairie dog?

Myself: Oh yeah, I guess they don't have those in China either. Okay, let's go Google Image Search this.

(We take a brief moment to Google search what a groundhog is and what a prairie dog is. Both shock her; neither look like a pig or a dog. Black is white, up is down. Hamburgers eat people.)

Myself: Okay, so now you know what we're dealing with. So every February, on Groundhog Day, the Mayor and all these Old Timey Townspeople gather around the den hole of Punxsutawney Phil. Phil is a groundhog, remember. When he exits his home, one of two things can happen: he will either see his shadow and run back inside, which means 6 more weeks of winter. Or he will come out and stay out, which means an early spring.

New Groundhog Enthusiast: Where does he live?

Myself: America

New Groundhog Enthusiast: South America?

Myself: Hahaha, no. America America...like, the US. That would be hilarious; Estuardo the Groundhog from Rio de Janeiro. Nevermind. He lives in Pennsylvania. Anyways, Groundhog Day has been around for more than 100 years, so we do this every single year, even if that groundhog is totally incorrect.

New Groundhog Enthusiast: The groundhog is 100 years old?!?

Myself: Oh no, no no. Groundhogs only live to be about 10 years old and then they die, so they replace him. It's kinda like being the President. Everybody calls him Mr.President, but it's not the same guy year after year. Oh! In Canada we have Wiarton Willie, who sucks and is not as good, and when he died, they had a littel funeral for him and put pennies on his eyes so that he wouldn't scare the children.

(This is where I had completely lost her. I think the image of a tiny, rodent-shaped casket just threw the whole story over the edge.)

New Groundhog Enthusiast: So Phil tells us if we have a long winter or an early spring. And he lives in a special hole in the ground. And every year you pull him out and he predicts the weather and when he dies he is given a fancy funeral?

(Obviously...I don't understand what is so difficult to grasp here. Come now, they must have a Chinese equivalent)

Myself: Oh! I almost forgot! Phil speaks to the head of the Inner Circle (those Old Timey guys) and then he relays the message to the townspeople.

New Groundhog Enthusiast: The groundhog speaks English?

Myself: Oh no, he speaks Groundhogese. A groundhog that can talk in English? Likey!

New Groundhog Enthusiast: So we will have 6 more weeks of winter then?

Myself: Probably not. He only has about 30% accuracy, so most of the time he is dead wrong. Like, he has a 50/50 chance of getting it right, so you'd think he'd be right half the time. But yeah, the groundhog is entirely unreliable. Do not base putting away your winter coat and boots on Phil.

After I said this, she shot me a look that screamed you are absolutely kidding me. I suppose it should have come as no surprise; we have based a Holiday around a talking rodent who predicts the change of seasons who is able to communicate with humans (humans fluent in Groundhogese, that is). I should have just advised her to watch Groundhog Day with Bill Murray (Billy Murray usually clears up any questions I have on supernatural creatures: Groundhogs, Ghosts, Jason Schwartzmans). But for now we'll just have base our belief in a ridiculous fokelore (we do it with Jesus, am I right? ....ouch)