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If I ever knock someone up, I’m totally going to buy her this t-shirt before I skip town.

(via @Like_A_Fox)

“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

Read the entire story.

Thanks to Emerson Emergency for emailing me the link to this story.

This is how I’ve been feeling for the past couple of days. Today isn’t much better.

I don’t even care about half of the stuff that this guy is talking about in this video, but I still think it’s awesome because he rants in such a brilliant (though possibly highly edited) manner.

I also think it’s hilarious that the Today Show reported that Michael J Fox, that famous Canadian who raised money for cancer research by running across the country with only one leg, died. (Yes, I know that was Terry Fox; watch the video and you’ll understand what I’m saying.)

On the weekend, Sara and I watched a movie that I got for Christmas. This movie, as you may have guessed from the title of this post, was Alien Apocalypse.

It was one of the worst movies I have ever seen.

Now, I kind of expected the movie to be bad. After all, the star of the movie—Bruce Campbell—is the king of the B-movie. But Alien Apocalypse goes beyond B-movie cheesiness into the realm of the just plain bad.

For one thing, the acting is terrible. I’d say that pretty much the entire cast, with the exception of about 2 or 3 actors, was made up of people who have never acted before.

In addition to bad acting, there are a multitude of ridiculous visual effects. The worst of these is probably the fact that many of the extras (and even some relatively significant characters) were wearing obviously fake beards; they were of no greater quality than those you’d find at a costume store near Halloween.

The aliens looked ridiculous, and the action scenes seemed to consist of an endless loop of the same lumber pile exploding every few minutes.

I could spend hours talking about how ridiculous the plot is. Instead, I’ll just sum it up in brief:

• Bruce Campbell is part of a NASA team sent into space 40 years ago to set up a deep-space probe (this is referred to as “the Probe Mission;” even their uniforms simply say “Probe Mission” on them). They have been in cryogenic status the entire time (minus a few minutes spent actually launching the probe, one assumes).
• Bruce and his team return to Earth to find themselves in the middle of a barren landscape. They soon find that this is where Portland, Oregon used to be.
• The team is captured by “bounty hunters” and taken to a lumber mill where they are to be used as slave labour.
• The bounty hunters decide that their masters will reward them greatly for capturing the spacemen, and take them to their leaders.
• It is revealed that aliens have conquered the Earth. They like to eat humans, and decide to feast on one of Bruce’s teammates. The black guy always dies first.
• The team is put into a dungeon where a fellow prisoner tells them what has happened while they were in space: aliens came and took over. They eat humans and wood. They’re shipping the lumber from the mill back to their home planet and making a lot of space-money in the process. The humans are slaves, but some believe that the President of the USA lives in the mountains nearby, gathering an army of free slaves.
• Bruce and his female teammate (and lover) escape, along with one of the slaves.
• They find a hot chick. Her entire purpose is to look hot.
• They find a village of free slaves and go in search of the President.
• The President lives! (But he’s a bitch and refuses to fight; he’s been sitting around painting for the past 20 years, claims that he’s given it all he’s got.)
• Bruce Campbell and crew go back to the village and make their own army. They attack the aliens who, despite having vastly superior technology, are absolutely inept fighters and don’t even attempt to fight back as they’re slaughtered.
• An alien armoured personnel carrier (APC) shows up and shoots a bunch of missiles. The same woodpile explodes about 20 times. The rebellion is quelled.
• The alien leader lines up the humans and says that if the human leader doesn’t reveal himself, he will kill them all.
• “I’m Spartacus!“
• The President, who decided to stop being a bitch, shows  up with a second wave of fighters and they kill the aliens again. The APC retreats only to return moments later with a bunch more aliens. This group of aliens actually knows how to fight, and a bunch more humans are killed until, out of nowhere, two of them have Molotov cocktails, which they use to destroy the alien APC. Bruce cuts up the remaining aliens with a sword that he mysteriously found at some point off-screen.
• Bruce tells the President that they’re going to attack the next mill tomorrow and that they won’t stop until all humans are free. The end.

Now, there is a lot more detail I could get into. Most of it is awful.

But…

I think that Alien Apocalypse would make a great drinking game. Seriously. You should rent or buy this movie solely for the purpose of turning it into a drinking game. I haven’t figured out all of the rules yet, but here are a few:

• Every time a handshake is denied, take a shot.
• Every time “hot chick” furrows her brow, take a shot.
• Every time people chant, “The President lives,” take a shot.
• Every time the aliens eat someone’s head, take a shot.
• Every time you see the same woodpile explode, take a shot.

By following even just these 5 rules, you’ll probably die of alcohol poisoning, but I’ve got a few more:

• Every time you spot a fake beard, take a shot.
• Every time someone says, “What’s a doctor?” or some variation thereof, take a shot.
• Every time someone mentions “the Probe Mission,” take a shot
• Every time you find yourself thinking, “How can giant, termite-like aliens, who probably don’t have vocal chords, speak English?” take two shots, because you’re clearly over-thinking this ridiculous movie.

9 rules. I’ve come up with 9 rules already, having only seen the movie once. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, I want to line up some shot glasses and try this drinking game.

Sara suggested that, if we were to play, we’d have to put all of the rules into a hat and have each person draw 2 or 3. If we followed all of the rules, we’d all die of alcohol poisoning before the movie was over.

But there is it, the Alien Apocalypse drinking game. Please play responsibly. (And, if you’ve seen the movie, and can think of any rules that I haven’t included, please leave them in the comments.)

I’m sure that a lot of you have seen this already. It made the viral rounds last week, but I’m coming up short on content ideas and I still find this amusing a week later, so I thought I’d share it anyway.

To help spark conversation in the comments, here are a few points about what’s wrong with this video/song:

• White guys who are very, very likely to be middle class are pretending to be “gangsta.” Normally, I find this funny (because it’s so lame). In this case, it kind of bothers me and comes across as unintentionally racist.
• Why are their gunshots and sirens in a Christian rap song? (Perhaps because they stole the beat.)
• What kind of weirdo sexualizes a hug to the point that it’s deemed inappropriate for anyone who isn’t married? And, do they think that it’s gay for two guys to “front-hug?”
• They clearly do not know what “rough rider” means.
• I suspect that Jesus did hug “like that” (i.e.: he front-hugged people).

This may just be the greatest thing that I’ve seen all year. I’d forgotten how awesome the Muppets were until I recently watched some episodes from the first season of The Muppet Show at my friend Rosemary’s place. But this video tops them all.

I suggest watching it in full screen with the HD mode turned on for optimal enjoyment.

PS: I think my favourite part is Beaker’s extended: “Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”

Moustaches: they look good on men over 40. If you’re under 40 and you have a moustache, you’re probably a hipster who grew a terrible moustache on purpose or you’re a teenager who thinks that your slightly darkened upper lip makes you look older and, therefore, irresistible to women.

You might also be gay. For some reason moustaches have remained popular in the gay community even as they’ve lost fashion among most other men.

Regardless of who you are, if you’re under 40 there is a good chance that your moustache makes you look creepy. It’s not fair, but that’s just the way that it is. Moustaches on the under-40 crowd look creepy.

I’m oversimplifying, of course, but I think this gallery of moustaches at the Times Online provides a strong argument in favour of my point. The most compelling argument comes from Fred Macpherson, in the fifth picture, who says that his moustache makes him “feel a little like a sleazy children’s entertainer” and that people think he’s “mad or a sex offender.”

Why he doesn’t just shave it off is beyond me.

(Hat tip to Look at this fucking hipster for the link to the gallery.)

Dear sir/madam,

It appears that you no longer wanted to “read” your porno. As a result, you disposed of it, not in the garbage or recycling bin, but in my parking lot. While some might condemn you for this act, I instead seek to correct your behaviour.

You were on the right track when you disposed of it as you did, but you neglected a couple of important elements of proper pornographic magazine disposal.

First, you disposed of only a few pages, and not the entire magazine. Perhaps the rest of the magazine lies nearby, and the pages I saw were carried away from the primary text by the wind. If this is the case, I apologize for criticizing you on this point. If I am correct, however, what did you do with the rest of the magazine? Why did you only dispose of a few pages? I’m confused, good sir/madam, and I hope that you will provide an explanation.

Second, and most importantly, you disposed of the magazine in a neighbourhood where children are unlikely to find it.

The more Puritanical readers of this letter may be shocked that I am criticizing a person for disposing of porn in an area where children are not likely to discover it. That is because you are Puritanical. But let me explain.

When I was a child, the only way to find out what naked ladies look like was by finding thrown-out porno in the back alley. That was a wonderful day. Unfortunately, my younger brother was the one who actually found the magazine, so after much fighting, I believe I only ended up with a few pages of my own.

Eventually, the more nosy among my peers would discover that some of our fathers had collections of pornographic magazines, and they usually didn’t notice when they went missing. But that back alley Playboy was an important part of my sexual awakening. The same, I’m sure, is true for all young men who discover porno in the back alley.

And that is why the proper method for disposing of pornographic magazines involves dumping them in a location where children (ages 10+) will have a chance of discovering them.

Of course, kids these days have the Internet, which means that they’ve probably watched dozens of hardcore porno movies by the time that they’re 10 and have already become bored by normal sex. Hell, they’re probably already bored by the not-so-off-the-beaten-path things like anal sex, threesomes, and so on.

Kids these days, with their Internets and their high definition pornographic movies, are probably prowling the darkest recesses of the web, looking for movies involving midgets having sex with donkeys who are, in turn, double-penetrating amputees.

Aw, hell, maybe those kids don’t need any back alley porn. Compared to what they’re looking at, the women of Playboy: College Girls are being positively modest.

Sincerely,

Adam Snider