The Creepshow!

Christmas with the Creeps 2: That 80s breakdancing movie. The second One.

2011-12-15T12:58:00.000-05:00

How about an...

Air Swimmer.

Now we’re talking! I know it looks kind of gay but so does everything else in that picture. You’ve got to see it in action.

Two questions come to mind regarding that commercial. 1: Why were all the kids at that party in bathing suits? And 2: Was that mall they showed the same one that Commando went nuts in?

For my own personal enjoyment, I’m going to say… yes.

But back to Air Swimmers. I think I like them. In a weird, freak people out kind of way. If I had one of those and a time machine I could go back to Woodstock circa 1969 and rule.

Yes master.

Then again if I had a time machine I could go back to 1971 and write Smoke on the Water before Deep Purple does (it’s really easy to play) and rule anyway without even needing the fish.

Yes master.

There are a few problems with the Air Swimmer though. First off you have to fill it up with helium. Unless you’re a clown or a pedophile (most often one in the same) you probably don’t keep a tank of helium at home. That means you can either give it to your children on Christmas morning un-blown up along with a lame speech about how rad it will be 3 days from now when you finally get it filled and watch them cast it into the lame pile along with the sox and the educational toys… or you can do the right thing and fill it up before hand. Now not only does that mean having to suffer through the pain of going to one of those depressing party stores on Christmas eve but also how do you wrap it?

2 words: You can’t.

And that kind of spoils the surprise. I suppose you could still make it a surprise by flying it into little Timmy’s bedroom on Christmas morning and scaring the living shit out of him but that can be done a lot more cheaply with a real dead fish.

Timmy, wake up, Santa’s here!

But the biggest downfall of the Air Swimmer is that it’s going to pop. You know it is. I’d give it an hour after your kid gets his hands on it to 48 hours tops. And then your child will cry and demand a new one. You can give in if you like but that will just send you into an endless downward spiral of exploding balloon fish, tears and financial hardship. What the Air Swimmer people should do is include a little conciliation prize inside the balloon kind of like a piñata. Nothing major, maybe some candy or a little toy like you get in a Kinder Egg.

Hmm. Maybe include some ear plugs too.

All in all I’d say the Air Swimmer is a pretty cool toy but maybe not for Christmas. It will probably wind up on the bad toy list next year when some stoner kid flies it into his own face while toking up and winds up looking like he’s been hot boxing with Travis the chimp.

Next.

Christmas with the Creeps.

2011-12-14T15:28:00.000-05:00

Oh Creepshow, I know I’ve treated you like a redheaded step child lately but it is Christmas time and I’d like to make it up to you. Let me get you a present. What would you like? A tumblr ? We have lots of tumblers. I’m drinking out of one right now.

Tell you what. Let’s spend the next few days together checking out the top selling toys are for kids this Christmas. Maybe that will give us some ideas…

The Razor eSpark Electric Scooter.

Are you kidding me?! This is a terrible toy on so many levels. First of all, a powered push scooter for a child? As if today’s kids need an excuse to be lazy. They spend half their life staring at a glowing rectangles. The very least you could do is encourage them to go outside, put their foot on the on the ground, push and propel themselves forward briefly. But no, standing is more than enough for today’s youth. Why not go all out and get them a rascal and a set of dentures until their adult teeth grow in?

Ghost of Christmas Future File Photo: Your daughter in 20 years.

Secondly, it makes sparks.

Now I’m not one of these worrisome spastics that wants to ban any toy that could be considered even remotely dangerous. Hell, I’m still mad about what they did to the Micronaughts and the future world could use a few less dumb adults. But how long do you think baby Einstein will have that scooter before he’s getting the gas can out of the garage and trying to recreate 88 MPH? Well I say if he is going to do it he should learn to do it the hard way like I did.

This:

Plus this:

Equal this:

And finally, giving a kid something like this on Christmas morning can totally back fire. Kids wait the whole fucking year for Christmas. So when they run downstairs on Christmas morning

Or around back to the trunk for you guys.

they are going to want instant gratification. A Razor eSpark may be fine on Christmas morning for you people living down south but here in Canada Christmas morning can look like this:

And you know what that means… Timmy can’t go outside and play with his new toy so Timmy plays with it in the house. Timmy scoots head first into the wall knocking down daddy’s poorly mounted 72 inch flat screen toy. The neighbors hear shouting and call the police. The police show up and see bleeding crying Timmy. Daddy spends the rest of Christmas in jail.

And stop naming everything like an iPod. Next.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 52: Return of the Magic Internet!!!

2011-11-18T15:52:00.000-05:00

Hey guys. Long time since I tapped at ya. Anyway, I was wondering what you eat for breakfast? If you’re a student you’re probably partial to left over pizza.

Mmm, the Tillsonburg special.

Don’t forget the Parmesan.

And if you’re a baby spending Saturday morning with your weekend dad then you probably get this:

Plus this:

Mixed in this:

And if this is your dad:

Then you’re having this:

Do to my Scottish upbringing I like the good old fry up for breakfast.

The basic fry up consists of eggs, beans bacon and a fried slice. Some people add sausage, fried mushrooms or fried tomatoes. Being Scottish I like to add black pudding and a potato scone to mine. The fry up is so popular that it even comes readymade in can form.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

But sometimes I wonder what people in other countries eat for breakfast. I mean I love trying foreign and exotic food for lunch and dinner but when it comes to breakfast it’s got to be dried blood and oatmeal in a sausage casing fried up with a bunch of other crap. But maybe I’m missing out. Only one way to know for sure...

Question 52: What do people in other countries eat for breakfast?

Magic Internet Answer: Hmm. Your posing of a somewhat interesting and intelligent question almost makes up for ignoring me for the past month. I will assume that you do not want a list of what is consumed post-brief-ritual-huminoid-hibernation in every single country. Even though it would take me nanoseconds to do it, it would take your puny human brain hours to read it. So I have decided to educate you on the breakfast cuisine of countries who’s food you already enjoy consuming later in the day. Let us begin with China.

I just assume everyone in China eats this for every meal. Done.

Actually sweet and sour chicken balls are rarely heard of in China. Most Chinese prefer to eat noodles and dim sum for breakfast. Zongzi is also very popular.Zongi is made from a gluttonous rice mixed with a filling (usually meat or bean paste) wrapped in a bamboo leaf and steamed. There are Zongi stalls all over China selling hot zongi just like hot dog stalls in your country.

Hmmm. I’m picturing this.

In India rice is also a staple at breakfast. Many Indians eat Idly (steamed rice cakes) or pongal (a mildly spiced rice porridge). In northern India samosas are also a common breakfast food.

If I was an Indian teenager I’d wear this t-shirt to bed and then just point at it when my mom tried to wake me up in the morning.

In Mexico breakfast is called el desayuno and the types of foods consumed are more in line with your idea of a traditional breakfast. Eggs are popular, as are standard commercial breakfast cereals. Tortilas are usally served instead of toast though. And Mexican breakfasts tend to be much spicier then their neighbors to the north. A tripe stew called menudo has also become a breakfast staple in Mexico due to it being a folk remedy for a hangover.

Tripe, huh? That’s a cow’s stomach lining isn’t it?

Still sound better than this Menudo

The Italian’s keep breakfast very simple. Breakfast in Italy is usually just coffee or milk and coffee with a pastry or biscotti, or sometimes tramezzino. Tramezzino is a white bread sandwich filled with things like tuna, eggs, mayo, tomato or ham.

Ha, ha, that’s not Italian breakfast. This is Italian breakfast.

And finally I bet you are wondering what they eat for breakfast in Japan. It is after all the land of the rising sun. A Japanese breakfast usually consists of rice, seafood and fermented foods. It may also contain food left over from the night before and raw eggs.

Raw eggs and leftovers? Japanese breakfast is basically Rocky meets Uncle Buck Uncle Buck Well thanks Magic Internet. That was very informative. I feel like I’ve just rolled out of bed with half the world.

Yeah, kinda like you but at least they all made me breakfast.

Hey one more thing. I bet you don’t know what Shooter McGavin eats for breakfast? He eats shit!

Check ya later.

R.I.P. Cory “Flattus Maximus” Smoot 1977 – 2011

2011-11-07T12:07:00.000-05:00

I heard over the weekend that Cory Smoot, aka Flattus Maximus the guitarist for GWAR died.

I first saw GWAR when I was 13 years old. It was the first real concert I attended. (Not counting the time my mother took me to see Gowan and Zappa Costa). I first saw the band in a spread in Thrasher magazine and I remember buying their Scum Dogs of the Universe tape at Cheapies in Hamilton.

To a suburban punk kid with a vulgar sense of humor this was the equivalent of the White Album.

But even the audio majesty of double sided cassette couldn’t compare to seeing them live. I remember buying a cheap white shirt from Bi-way in the hopes it would get soaked in blood. I remember being worried about all the second hand pot smoke I might inhale and wondering if it would cause me to lose my mind

Yes I know today’s 13 year olds smoke 6 paper joints for breakfast but this was a different time.

But most of all I remember this:

Check the fat skin head owning the dance floor 57 seconds in. I love that guy.

I came out of that show with a sweaty pink t-shirt, an over-priced hat and a blood lust for all things GWAR. A week or so later I took the bus downtown to Loony Tunes records and bought Live From Antarctica on VHS.

(I still have it.)

I remember thinking I had something truly shocking and perverse. Although if the footage up there is anything to go by (and it is) maybe not so much. But still I kept it hidden from my parents and would only watch it when they weren’t around.

Approves.

I did take it to school one day and when the teacher left the room I treated the class to a surprise discreet screening on the art room’s media centre.

The horror…

The teacher came back into the room just as Oderus Urungus was unleashing his copious load all over the crowd.

I could’t have timed it better myself.

I think the only reason she gave me the tape back was because she didn’t want to have to go through the discomfort of having to show it to the principal.

Principal: Who is the deformed man masturbating again?
Art Teacher: Oderus Urungus.
Principal: I see. And who is the blood covered woman in the metal bra and hairy hot pants?
Art Teacher: ...sigh. Slymenstra Hymen.

I’ll admit that Flattus wasn’t my favorite.

I was more of a Balsac guy.

But he was still a great part of GWAR and GWAR will always be a great part of my youth. I’ve seen them numerous times over the years and they’re still one of the best live shows around. I’m glad they’ve decided to keep touring. I may have to go out and purchase a new white Hanes Beefy Tee and a ticket next time they roll into Toronto to pay my respects. And I’d like think that Flattus Maximus is up there in rock & roll heaven telling the Big Bopper how he smoked his entire home planet because it was made out of weed and then cutting one right in Jimmy Hendricks’s face.

So long old friend.

P.S. No Canadian GWAR tribute could be complete without Nardwar.

Smell you later human filth.

It came from Videoflicks 2: Empty boxes hunger for you.

2011-10-31T15:15:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween boils and ghouls!

Deaderal claw provides severed-ere civile and criminal penalties for the unauthorrorized reaper-duction of copyfrighted materials. Woooo ha ha ha ha!

Sorry Crypt Keeper but I’ve always wanted to say that. A lot of you will no doubt be thinking back to some of your favorite horror movies and hoping to catch one or two on TV tonight.

I said HORROR not horrible.

When I was a kid I wasn’t allowed to watch many horror movies do to a staunch belief in the bogeyman and his ability to eat my bones post bedtime.

A reasonable facsimile of what my bedroom dresser looked like with the lights out.

But on the weekly pilgrimages to Videoflicks I was able to look at the horror movie boxes. This in retrospect was probably worse than actually viewing the terrible movies they once contained. I’m sure my twisted little imagination conjured up monsters and killers far more terrifying. Jason was after all just a big headed bald kid.

So seeing as it’s Halloween I thought I’d share with you some of my most memorable horror movie video boxes that mesmerized/creeped me out all those years ago.

Microwave Massacre – 1983

I’ve still yet to actually see this movie but I love this box. And what’s not to love? Look at that roasting head with all the trimmings. I also like the subtle extra touches like the internal temperature gauge going into the head and the microwave display set to well done. And then there’s that fat guy licking his lips while staring at the head. He just can’t wait to eat that head! But what’s with the towel around his neck? I remember not having a microwave at home when I’d look at this box. I don’t remember if it made me want one more or less.

The Howling – 1981

I could never look at this case for too long. Not because I was afraid of werewolves. (Although I probably was.) It was because of her nails. Look at how cracked and horrible they are. Look at them! Ugh, they still give me the willies. Let’s move on.

Chopping Mall – 1986

First off: Best. Title. Ever. When you grow up in the suburbs the mall becomes a major part of your life. When you’re young, it’s where the toys are and when you’re older it becomes a ketchup and sweet and sour sauce soaked arena in which to perform the feats of strength in hopes that some large haired maiden will pause momentarily from purchasing hundreds of bracelets to agree to Go with you.

What that ment and where you were supposed to go remains forever a mystery.

The shopping bag full of body parts is great but it’s that robot arm that seals the deal. What were those high tech mall scientists thinking?

Mall Security Robot Designer 1: Hey Dan. Why don’t we put little saw blades on their knuckles. You know to deter shoplifters?
Mall Security Robot Designer 2: Rad idea Trevor. Those sticky fingered little shits in the Tape Shack won’t have that problem anymore. Let’s celebrate with a couple of Growers.

Night of the Creeps – 1986

Even with the word Creep in it the title the slogan up top still takes the front seat on this one. My older sister was starting high school when this came out so in my mind this scenario may have been highly plausible. (Although that dead guy is way hunkier than anyone that went to Lord Elgin High School back then.) Oh and those are some pretty strong roses.

The Video Dead – 1987

If you were 11 years old would you want to put this in your VCR? Me either. I don’t want to now either. But that’s because I’ve seen it.

The Comic – 1985

I remember seeing this box once and wondering why the guy he was stabbing had a face made out of wood. Now I realize that it wasn’t wood, the artist just didn’t know how to draw wrinkles. Or anything else for that matter.

And finally on the subject of videos, none of my childhood Halloweens were complete without the annual school viewing of the Halloween Safety Video. Every year they’d assemble us in the library, roll out the video cart and show us this video.

(God, this thing now looks like a horror movie.)

(That hobo clown kid’s dead is wearing a great serial killer costume.)

Even though I was a firm believer that safety ruined all the best costumes I was so pumped for Halloween that seeing this video was to Halloween what the CFRB radio station reporting that Santa’s sleigh had been spotted on radar Christmas Eve.

Have a safe and happy Halloween all!

Rx: Diacetylmorphine 100ml. To be taken orally along with your own butt muck.

2011-10-19T11:54:00.001-04:00

It was my birthday a couple of weeks ago and someone lovingly picked out this wonderful gift for me.

Now I’m not a G. G. Allin fan per say (Don’t get me wrong, Suck My Ass It Smells is a pretty catchy tune.). But I am a fan of punk rock so I will welcome this disgusting little man’s record into my collection. If anything it is one less copy that may fall into the hands of some impressionable youth.

Like being covered in shit, huh kid? Boy do I have a record for you.

It also caused me to spend an hour or two learning a little more about Mr. Allin. For instance did you know that his real name is Jesus Christ? It’s true. His deranged father named him that when he was born. His brother couldn’t pronounce it properly and instead called him Gee Gee, hence the name. Isn’t learning fun kids? Also a lot of people believe that G. G. didn’t stay true to his word by not killing himself on Halloween like he promised.

Would this man lie to you?

In actuality he was in hospital or jail every Halloween after he made that statement and then died of a heroin overdose. So there all you jealous types that dare besmirch the good name of G. G. Allin. I also never realized how much time he spent in hospital. I really can’t picture a gutter punk heroin addict that eats his own poo waking up one morning and thinking, Hmm, something doesn’t feel quite right. I mean jail I understand. They make you go there but the hospital? Maybe people called an ambulance for him after he passed out just to get him out of their house/club/gutter.

Hello 1-800-Got-Junk?

But since he did spend so much time in hospital he probably knew a thing or two about medical practice. I mean people in all professions say that nothing beats hands on experience. Most of these so called doctors just read about medical problems in books. They haven’t even had a fraction of sicknesses they diagnose.

Left: Never had diarrhea. Right: Never had a painful erection lasting more than 5 hours.

So that’s why here at the Creepshow I’ve decided to resurrect good ol’ G. G. so he can answer some of your medical questions in a segment I like to call…

ASK DR. ALLIN

Betty Jackson from Dildo, Newfoundland writes:

Dear Dr. Allin,
This morning I was out walking the hills of Dildo when I accidently cut my arm on a rusty fence post nail. The cut isn’t deep but I’m worried it might be infected. What should I do?

Dr. Allin replies:

Rub shit on it fucker!!!

Michael Cartwright from Community Punch Bowl, Alberta asks:

Dear Dr. Allin,
Lately I’ve been having problems with indigestion. I sometimes wake up during the night with heartburn. Usually Pepto-Bismol seems to settle it down but I’m wondering if I should ask my doctor for something more effective. What do you recommend?

Dr. Allin prescribes:

Empty beer bottle. Fill with piss. Drink. Repeat. Die scumbag!

Barry Lincoln from Swastika, Ontario writes:

Dear Dr. Allin,
Winter is not far away here and with it we all know comes cold and flu season. Do you have any tips to help stay healthy and flu free through the holidays?

Dr. Allin suggests:

Shoot heroin into your dick! Arrrrrrrghhh!!!

Uh oh. It looks like the resurrected G. G. Allin is dead again. Yep, another heroin overdose. I’ve got to stop leaving so much of that stuff lying around. (Mixed with vinegar it makes a great silver polish.) Oh well, tune in next week when I resurrect Jack the Ripper to answer your dating tips.

If she touches her hair that means she likes you.

Smell ya later.

When is the rest of the world going to learn that animals don't belong in their homes. They belong in space.

2011-10-13T15:19:00.000-04:00

So I heard that Iran failed in their attempt to put a live monkey in space. This doesn’t surprise me one bit. For one, according to the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the country of Iran has no gay guys gay guys in it. Well everyone knows that gay guys are great organizers. They’d probably have that monkey up in space lickity split, alive and dressed to the nines.

You’re never going to compete with the wonders of the galaxy so it’s best to go with a classic tux. Blast off!

Ahmadinejad also said that Iran's nuclear power was discovered by a 13 year old girl in her own house using some old parts she got at the local bazaar

~~Libya’s~~ Iran’s nuclear reactor.

Based on this informationI can probably guess what the Iranian Space Program’s bazaar grocery list looked like.

Get some of these:

And some of this:

And don’t forget this:

Where do you even get a monkey in Iran anyway? I thought they weren't allowed to have pets? They don’t eat bushmeat in Iran do they? Well if they do and I was a monkey, I think I’d rather have my eulogy read failed astronaught then reason for extra ketchup.

You know what kind of monkey they should send up there? A bathroom monkey.

He could clean up all that space junk that’s floating around up there before it comes back down and hits us on the head. Iran just better hope the monkey doesn’t crash land on that planet Fagatron that Andrew Dice Clay is always telling people to go back to.

Because if he does it ain’t going to end well for Iran.

You look fabulous throwing Mahmoud in those purple pants Dr. Homorius.

OHHHH!

Meatloaf, meatloaf, double beatloaf!

2011-10-05T12:05:00.000-04:00

The other night I watched a pretty decent documentary on the Montreal punk scene called MTL PUNK: The First Wave. It was pretty good. You should check it out if you’re into that sort of thing. And during the commercials I also saw this.

Talk about a bonus feature! Here is what we have learned in just 2 minutes:

- There are people out there that can’t cook meatloaf.

Actually that doesn’t surprise me.

- There are people out there that have paid $40 for a meatloaf pan.

- Billy Mays is back from the dead and he’s bald!

And if he’s anything like Jason from Friday the 13th his future reincarnations are only going to get worse.

- This meatloaf pan is so amazing you don’t even need oven mitts!

- There are people out there that make themed meatloafs.

I wonder how that meatloaf recipe book is laid out.

Geographically?

Chinese meatloaf anyone?

Italian?

Or how about a California cheeseburger?

Maybe they’ve got a section for special occasions.

Handy for Halloween.

And Christmas. (Santa says Billy gets the chedder stump end piece this year.)

Birthdays.

Prom night.

And if you’re Polynesian…

Happy Fattening Day son.

I bet there’s something in there that even Randy would like.

How about an inflatable meatloaf Randy?

Wow! Whoopy! A Zeppelin!

Annnnnnnnd I'm done.

I understand the lemon for a head but why is his meat pants on backwards?

2011-09-29T15:32:00.000-04:00

Have any of you ever been to Bulgaria? Maybe you’re there right now.

My new bicycle route to work takes me past this Bulgarian deli every day. I’ve never seen a Bulgarian deli. I kind of want to go in and see what it’s like but I’m also kind of afraid. This is how I imagine my trip to the Bulgarian deli will take place.

Location: Bulgarian Deli, Toronto, Near future…

(A handsome man enters.)

Bulgarian Deli Owner (eyeing him suspiciously): You are not Bulgarian! I know Bulgarian. What do you want little man?

Me: I just moved to the neighborhood and I thought I’d come check out your deli. Hey, what kind of cheese is that?

Bulgarian Deli Owner: You know nothing of our customs! Your presence here is an insult! I should take this cheese and SMASH you!

(The handsome man flees to the sound of boisterous laughter.)

Maybe I’m getting carried away but maybe not. I don’t know. I don’t really know anything about Bulgaria, that’s the problem. But not to worry, I’ve been researching the country extensively. Let me share with you what I have learned.

5 Facts about Bulgaria:

1) Due to its location in south-eastern Europe, Bulgaria is part of the Balkan Peninsula and Bulgarians can also be referred to as Balkans. Hmm, sounds kind of like Vulcans. I wonder if they have an affinity for Star Trek?

God, let’s hope not.

Still it might not hurt to wear a Vulcan hoodie.

But I better leave my mohawk and ghetto blaster at home.

2) Bulgaria is in contact with aliens. Leading Bulgarian astrophysicist Latchezer Filipov claims that aliens are living among us.

I’m pretty sure this is him.

He claims to have contacted aliens and posed 30 questions to them regarding world problems and he says that the aliens have answered back in the form of crop circles.

Hey! These aliens are alright.

3) Bulgaria is famous for its yogurt.

Lactobacillus Bulgaricus is a bacterium that can only be found in Bulgarian air. It’s what gives Bulgarian yogurt its unique flavor. Swedish yogurt on the other hand is made by taking milk and having Jocelyn Wildenstein stare at it for an hour or two.

4) In Bulgaria yes means no.

ALRIGHT!

Calm down there drunken date rape guys. What I mean is that in Bulgaria they nod their heads for no and they shake their heads for yes. Here I’ll let them explain it to you.

See, totally backwards!

We’re still big over there.

5) The Bulgarian town of Varna has a donkey running for mayor.

Now I know you all think that’s crazy but it isn’t really. Bulgaria has only allowed multi-party elections for a little over 20 years and even here in Toronto we have a pig for a mayor.

Or possibly some form of space slug, you be the judge.

Hell, in Rabbit Hash Kentucky they have a pig and a donkey running for mayor.

So there you have it, a crash course on Bulgaria. Armed with this knowledge I’m confident that I won’t be mocked or beaten with cheese. Which is great because I can’t wait to make a matching Bulgarian Happy Shepherd Boys that look like Kris Kross.

Smell Ya Later.

Please welcome Musclemag’s next Beef-Pump Flex-Off contestant… Hot Buttered Johnny.

2011-09-22T11:47:00.000-04:00

Muscly guys are ~~sad~~, ~~retarded~~, hilarious.

Now I’m not against exercise. I love walking my dog and riding my bike and even hitting the weights can be fun sometimes.

But seriously guys. You really think this looks good?

I don’t think there are many women out there thinking Mmm, I wish my guy’s thighs looked like the back of the Elephant man’s head. And you don’t want to meet the women who do.

Did I leave the faucet running and forget to take the garbage out? Oh hey Snooki!

And having big muscles isn’t going to help you out in the long run. Let my man Carl break it down for you.

But there’s no point in trying to stop you. Guys that are into being muscly are REALLY into being muscly. Take Musclemag for example.

Can you believe that this exists and that it’s not a joke? Grown men have actually picked up that magazine, read the headline Grow your guns and said, Yes, this is for me. They also seem to enjoy pictures of guys making faces like this.

See:

Seeee:

Can you imagine being the photographer for this?

Alaine Begre: Ah oui, bon smile at the back, veeeery sexy. Now you in the front, make a face like you have diarrhea in reverse.

Try Staring at that picture for 30 seconds without laughing. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

But forget the magazines. They also have online forums. Yes, message boards where all the profile pictures are bathroom mirror self shots. I think they serve the dual purpose of letting other members on the forum know how ripped they are and making sure that members are actually ripped and not some pencil neck who is just faking being ripped so they can be a forum member. And who wouldn’t want to be a member? When you’re done blasting whatever muscle group you’ve chosen to blast today you can sit back, cool down and tell a bunch of other meat heads about it. Or you can get a consoling I feel for you Brah after confessing your tragic tale of having to piss and shit with a boner during your first date with an asian girl.

But best of all are the body building competitions. Anyone can grow muscles and flex them while silently screaming but it takes a true artist to take it to the next level.

A striking representation of mankind’s struggle with the ever expanding presence of technology in the modern world. (Or he just really likes Terminator 3.)

How they haven’t turned this into TLC show or at least a bad action movie I just don’t know. I’d like to choreograph one of these flex offs. I have a great idea for it too. I’d have to train my muscly guy to flex all of his muscles independently and at different times. Kind of like how a drummer can keep different independent rhythms with both hands and feet. Can you imagine how freaky that would look? I’d send him out in a Speedo to the tune of Popcorn.

Yeah, I’m full of good ideas, right Carl?

Twist those dirty bags!

Rumors of my death have been somewhat exaggerated... glancing at my fingers... like a chip?

2011-09-20T12:19:00.000-04:00

Hey guys. Remember me? I know I haven’t been around in a while but I’ve been busy boxing up my life and becoming an adult.

Mark this box Bedroom.

Yes I’ve been moving into my new house and haven’t had much time to rap at ya. I know, I know, I should have said something sooner. I feel like that guy that fingered you at Gordo’s party and then didn’t call you all summer. And then you saw him 2 weeks after school started in the parking lot of Big Bear eating dill pickled chips and trying to land a kick flip.

I was totally gonna call you but I lost your number. I fuckin swear.

But unlike him I promise I will get back to you. In the mean time please enjoy this video by another Torontonian who hasn’t been around in a while. Moe, I’m an adult now.

Billy, I think it’s time we had a talk about the Berts & the Ernies.

2011-08-23T16:52:00.000-04:00

So people want Burt and Ernie to get married.

Now usually I would be against this. Bert and Ernie don’t need a piece of paper from the man to tell them they’re in love. Everyone just has gay wedding fever right now. Apart from the monetary benefits I don’t understand why any gay person would want to get married. Bert and Ernie don’t have to pay rent or taxes. They’re puppets that live on a make believe street for Christ’s sake! And trust me, you don’t want them to be real.

But I think that having Bert and Ernie get married could be an excellent way to explain the concept of same sex couples to children. Because despite wither you think it’s right or wrong, it’s still awkward to explain. Just like telling kids about the birds and the bees or why Aunt Heather paints all those strange pictures of Data and keeps them under her bed.

So what would Bert and Ernie’s wedding be like?

The Bachelor Party:

In traditional weddings the groom has a bachelor or stag party and the bride has a shower or doe party. The Bachelor party is usually wild and crazy and involves booze, cigars, strippers and possibly going to Vegas. The bridal shower is usually very boring and involves wine or tea, little sandwiches, presents and that classical music that signifies rich people in movies. There might be a stripper that comes to the door dressed as a cop or if the bride is Debbie Thompson there might even be this:

Bachelor Party Classic Scene : Shower Scene - Click here for more free videos

So what do Bert and Ernie do with the final days of freedom? Well they can both go see a stripper.

And then things will really start getting crazy.

The Wedding Party:

Since there are 2 grooms, there should be 2 best men. We’ll go with Grover for Ernie.

Someone make sure he takes a bath before the wedding.

And Oscar the Grouch for Bert.

We’ll never get the stink out of him. Just paint a tuxedo on his trash can or something.

The jury is still out on Big Bird’s gender, so he/she/it can give them both away.

Count Von Count and Snuffleupagus will make good ushers. Count can make sure all the guests are there.

One pigeon! Two Pigeons!! Three Pigeons!!! God, Bert has no friends.

And Snuffleupagus is big and will be good at keeping out undesirables.

Someone give this picture to Snuffleupagus.

The Ceremony:

The ceremony will be held in the fake park in the middle of Sesame Street.

Ernie wanted somewhere romantic and Bert wanted somewhere cheap so it’s perfect.

We’ll let Don Music play the wedding march.

On second thought someone see if Rolf is available.

I play a mean piano and I eat my own poop.

And the ceremony its self will be performed by none other than Guy Smiley.

Guy Smiley is an ordained minister with the Church of Satan, little known fact.

The Reception:

The reception party will also be held on Sesame Street.

These Muppets haven’t left the place in over 40 years. Why start now?

Catering will be provided by Mr. Hooper’s store and skillfully prepared by a master chef.

There’ll be a good band.

Grover will own the dance floor.

No one will do the Birdy dance because it offends Big Bird but you better believe Bert will break out the Pigeon.

And when it’s all over we’ll get Beauregard the Janitor and Bruno the Trash Man to clean up.

Boy, they sure drank a lot of apple martinis.

Tell me about it. For a second I thought Oscar had melted but this trash can is just full of puke.

The Honeymoon:

Nothing too fancy, they’ve been together for 42 years after all, perhaps a trip to France so Ernie can see the world’s largest rubber duckie.

And in the evening they’ll both have something special to wear for each other.

You try explaining lingerie to two 40 year old puppets with the mental capacity of 8 year olds.

Then it's time for the consummation.

The Divorce:

If Bert and Ernie are going to explain how gays can married like everybody else they might as well also explain how gays can get divorced like everybody else. The relationship begins to sour. Pigeon sales are down these days as most people these days view them as filthy winged rats.

Bert turns to drugs.

Why are you still up Bert? What dancing breakfast?

And starts taking it out on Ernie.

R is for retard Ernie. That’s you!

And before you know it, the marriage is over. Ernie moves out and gets into the bear scene.

And Bert meets someone new in rehab.

They eventually learn to be friends again but it’s never like it once was… you know what? Screw that. Don’t get married Bert and Ernie. Just stay the way you are forever.

P.S. Cookie Monster

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0051.

2011-08-10T15:02:00.000-04:00

Dear DVD Collection,

Over the years I have watched you grow from a single copy of Detroit Rock City to a vast sprawling library of equally terrible films and television shows. We have become close over this time and many of you I will keep and cherish forever. But for some of you the time has come for us to part ways.

Unopened copy of War of the Worlds...

it’s not your fault. I love your story I just hate Tom Cruise.

Unopened copy of the Brothers Grimm.

There’s a special place in hell for you and you better hope that Jacob and Wilhelm aren’t already there waiting.

Black Cobra 2

You came from a box of DVDs that literally fell off the back of a truck. I will never see Black Cobra 1 or 3 so you should feel proud that I watched you at all.

Don’t think of it as me getting rid of you. Think of it as me releasing you back into the wild. You’ll be with your own kind. On the dusty shelves of Game Shack or Game Centre where you will be handled briefly buy numerous browsers. Maybe some twisted soul will deem you worthy of purchase. Maybe you’ll be sent overseas and used as crude building material for huts in Africa. Most likely you will wind up filling the cracks of a landfill diaper pile. But know this, the sacrifice of you and your brothers allowed me to obtain Beverly Hills 90210 Season 1 Box Set used.

Whenever Dylan appears accompanied by electric guitar, whenever Brandon is awoken with perfect hair by his pants-less sister climbing onto his bed, whenever David Silver finds an opportunity to showcase his proficiency at doing the running man, I will think of you bad DVDs.

Yours truly,

Johnny Creepshow.

Sorry folks. I just had to get that off my chest. But it’s true. Since I’m moving at the end of the month I weeded out some of my more terrible (not in a good way) DVDs and traded them for a 90210 box set. Re-watching the (30something) year old kids from Beverly Hills again is both sad and hilarious. I watched an episode the other night called One Man and a Baby (way to phone it in writers) that was about Brandon briefly dating a girl with a baby and coming to the conclusion that, This baby raising stuff isn’t that hard after all. It had an equally retarded subplot that involved Brenda and Kelly winning skydiving lessons off the radio. They both lust after their instructor who’s played by Paul Satterfield.

A coup for the 90210 casting agents back in 1990 as Paul was surely still riding high on the success of his 1989 film Arena.

I think instructor Paul wound up dressing the two of them in some left over Arena costumes for the final skydiving scene too.

But watching Kelly and Brenda dressed like aerodynamic raisins horning over who was going to be strapped to sexy Paul Satterfield got me thinking. Do you think anyone has ever done it in midair while skydiving? People are always talking about the mile high club and people that skydive have done a whole lot of other stupid crap while in midair.

So why not try bumping uglies? Do you think it’s happened? Do yeah? Do yeah?! Let’s find out.

Question 51: Has anyone had sex while skydiving?

Magic Internet Answer: There is no record of anyone performing sexual intercourse while in freefall. Naked skydiving has gained enough popularity to garner an official club.

But there are no recorded instances of naked skydivers copulating and it is highly unlikely that any have. Even at full altitude skydivers only have 45-60 seconds of free fall time before they must track away and deploy their chutes. Given the amount of time it would take to merely get into position it is doubtful that anyone could perform a sexual act that quickly.

I bet old 2 pumps and a puff Hugh Heffner could manage it. (That’s right I said puff. It comes out in powdered form these days.)

Yes, well even if the aged lothario you speak of could indeed manage engage in sex while in freefall it would be very dangerous as he could run the risk of accidently pulling a handle resulting in a premature chute deployment.

Too easy.

So it would seem that the closest one is going to get to experiencing sexual intercourse while skydiving is to view a rerun of the horrible, horrible television show Manswers.

Oh well. Sorry skyding sexy sax guy...

You’re out of a job.

Ask the Magic internet a Stupid Question No. 0050.

2011-08-03T16:26:00.000-04:00

Growing up I was always fascinated by trains but not in the way you think. I wasn’t one of those kids that went around in stripy over-alls and conductor hat talking about how I was going to be a train conductor one day.

Listen Casey Jr. Real train conductors don’t even dress like that. You need to get yourself a short sleeved dress shirt and a clip on tie and a water bottle full of Prince Igor.

I may have had a train set at one point but I was never one of those model railroad enthusiasts.

You know what’s worse than being on a train that’s delayed due to construction? Spending all your free time setting up a tiny plastic work crew to delay a tiny plastic train full of nobody going nowhere.

And speaking of train nerds, I also was never a train spotter.

I think I just spotted a CSXT 4617 pulling three cars of utter loneliness.

I was just a kid that grew up near a set of railway tracks. Despite all those film strips and safety videos they showed us at school most kids played on or near the railroad tracks back then. In fact one of the main reasons we used to walk along the tracks was to look for those explosive signals that the safety films warned us not to touch.

We had no idea these things existed until we saw those films.

I don’t remember ever actually finding any. Those safety films were so out of date that they probably stopped using them before I was born. Either that or the big kids got them first. When you’re a little kid you know that the big kids get everything first.

Screw you big kids! I’ll never get to meet Freddy Krueger or have a Walkman.

I do remember finding flattened pennies though.

Those stories your parents told you about a penny on the tracks derailing a train… lies, all vicious lies.

Sometimes we’d find flattened animals too. And sometimes we’d find just weird piles of foul smelling goo on the tracks that seemed to come from the passing trains. Some of the kids said that it came from the train’s toilet and that the trains just dumped all the pee and poo on the tracks while they were in transit. I probably believed them even though it was more likely some toxic chemical that leaked out of one of the tanker cars that would turn anyone that touched it into one giant melanoma in 10 years time.

Rocky, I want you to stay away from that Spicoli boy. He’s a bad influence on you. And what’s that on your face? Have you been playing by the railway tracks again?!

Oh well, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. At least the train toilet legend kept us from touching whatever it was. But recently I read something that might prove that it is true. A woman in India was on a train when she gave birth in the toilet and the baby slipped down through the toilet chute.html onto the tracks. Seeing as the Magic Internet has already given weight to Joe Dirt’s space peanut theory, I figure it’s high time we learned more about the lavatorial secretes of trains.

Question 50: Do passenger trains dump their toilet waste on the tracks while in transit?

Magic Internet Answer: There are 3 standard types of toilets in use on trains today. In most modern carriages and trains running in more wealthy and densely populated areas a chemical retention tank is used. This is similar to the types of toilets used on commercial airliners. The human waste is stored in tanks and removed at terminal stations or during long stop-overs.

Hey are you guys gonna eat that?

The major problem with chemical toilets is that they limit a carriage’s in-service time. The railway company must pull the carriage out of service to remove the waste regularly or run the risk of the toilet retention tank filling up and the toilet overflowing.

Uh oh. I ate too much.

A solution to this is the second type of toilet in use on trains, a composting toilet. This type of toilet uses bacterial actions to break down human waste before releasing it onto the tracks byway of a chlorine sanitizing tank. It still leaves waste on the tracks but is much more hygienic.

Caddyshack File Photo: World’s largest chlorine sanitizing tank.

The third and final type of train toilet is found on older carriages and trains in use in more rural parts of Europe and Asia. It is known as a hopper toilet and it disposes of waste directly onto the tracks through a drop chute or simple hole in the floor.

So to answer your question, yes some trains do still dump human waste directly onto the tracks. Most modern rail companies however are turning away from using carriages with hopper toilets do to the environmental impact of leaving untreated human waste on the ground and in some areas there are regulations forbidding it. They are still widely used in other parts of the world such as India where railway regulations are far more lax.

Thanks Magic Internet. Your scatological knowledge is vast as always. I wonder it old Doc Brown ever took a dump right into his train’s Mr. Fission to get himself back in time? If he didn’t, I bet his creepy kid did.

Smell Ya Later people.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0049.

2011-07-27T12:08:00.000-04:00

I’ve only got basic cable right now. I got tired of all the crap that was on TV and how expensive it is. Sometimes I miss going past 28. Like when I realize that 2 of my channels are French and another one is the Sun News channel.

It’s like Fox News but everyone is uglier and more boring.

I usually just end up watching Simpson’s reruns. I saw one the other night with Cletus in it.

Cletus found a pair of scissors or something and said, Hey Brandine! I found somethin what to finally cut that umbilical cord with. And then it cuts to this:

Ahahahahahaha! Yes I know the Simpson’s kind of sucks now and we all wish Lisa was dead but sometimes they can still make the magic happen. And that scene got me wondering too. Do you think you could raise a baby with the umbilical cord still attached? You might have to keep it in a bucket full of embryonic fluid or something but could the mother still just eat stuff and the baby would get fed? Time to produce some magic of my own. Magic of the internet variety.

Question 49: Can a mother not cut the umbilical cord and feed and raise her born baby with it?

Umbilical Charger - watch more funny videos

Magic Internet Answer: You are lucky that computers do not have a gag reflex because that question is so stupid that it would surely cause me to purge abandoned Hotmail accounts all over you. You obviously have little to no knowledge about the process of human birth. The umbilical cord is attached to the placenta. The placenta may remain attached to the mother for several minutes but it will eventually detach. Therefore there is no way that the child could remain attached to the mother for any great length of time.

Hospital Dumpster Diner. Today’s Special: Free range Haggis.

Did you not learn any of this in school?

Well, they tried to show us a video once in grade 9 health class but the teacher left the room while we were watching it and one kid went up to the VCR and started fast forwarding and rewinding it over and over so we just saw the baby shloping in and out. Since then I have avoided witnessing anything like that because I think it’s gross. Right P. Diddy?

Mmhmm. It ruins the sexy.

Caveman say, Oooohhhh!

2011-07-26T13:42:00.000-04:00

Recent research from Canadian scientists has uncovered that early humans interbred with neanderthals.

I’m pretty sure this is how it went down.

So what this means is that many people today are walking around with a little bit of caveman DNA in them. A little bit?! It’s got to be more than a little bit. Sometimes I’m surprised there aren’t balls of hairy knuckle skin blowing around the streets like tumbleweed. But at least this explains a lot.

It explains:

Ultimate Fighting fans.

Putting balls on your truck.

The popularity of Charlie Sheen.

Burger King’s menu for the next several decades.

Those guys that scream, Wooo! all the time when they get drunk.

Hunting lingerie.

The recording and production of a new Limp Bizkit album.

Beer for dogs.

Fur coats for men.

Female body builders.

Owning a 2,000 sq ft home but still feeling the need to turn your garage into your dream bachelor apartment.

And this guy.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0048.

2011-07-20T14:35:00.000-04:00

You know what sucks about buying a house?

The 5th album

Looking for furniture sucks. There’s really only 3 ways you can go about it; cheap, expensive or vintage. If you have even an iota of taste and you want new cheap furniture then your only real option is Ikea. I’m starting to loath Ikea. Sure some of their stuff looks ok and it’s a good deal but any retro Scandinavian penance it has is instantly ruined the first time someone comes over, points at it and says, Ikea, huh? And if you don’t look out you’ll wake up one day feeling like you’re living in the showroom or worse yet the Sims.

That’s right. Look at this. Now look around your room and commence feeling awkward.

The absolute worst part about buying Ikea furniture is having to go to Ikea. No matter what time of year it is there’s always some dumb parents buying stuff for their dumb daughter who’s going away to college. And lots of those asshole couples from Mississauga. I can’t be bothered trying to describe them. Just take a handful of the following words, throw them at the wall and see what sticks.

Track pants cell phone tribal tattoo hot pink Coach Purse cologne at 10 am gum chewing spray tan will this fit in the Civic? no socks Tap Out Fight wear eyebrow ring Pink is the New Black What about this babe? What about this one babe? What do you think of this Babe?

If it wasn’t for the 50 cent hot dogs and that weird pop that tastes like Christmas I would happily pledge never to set foot in Ikea again. But if you want cheap, that’s where you have to go. What other choices do you have? The Brick? Fucking Leons??!!

Vintage furniture shopping is more fun. Especially when you get a deal. I got two 50s Danish teak chairs from a record store the other week for $150! But getting deals on vintage furniture is becoming more and more difficult. Most of the good stuff costs as much as high end new furniture. And like Ikea you need to know when to draw the line. A few good vintage pieces can make a room look modern yet lived in but if you go overboard people might start to think you suffered some kind of nervous breakdown in the 60s.

Oh and if people like this make you uncomfortable.

Then vintage furniture shopping probably isn’t for you.

That just leaves expensive furniture. Expensive furniture is nice. It better be. Shopping for it sucks. All expensive furniture stores seem to be staffed by ex models. They can only speak in a polite whisper but they possess the ability to sum up your net worth in a single scathing glance.

Just browsing, hmm?

Even if you do break down and buy something you’ll never be happy with it. As soon as the card is swiped you’ll be thinking I can’t believe I just paid that much for something I can’t even drive home. And once you get it home you won’t even want to sit on it in case you ruin it. That’s why people have those rooms that no one sits in. I had a friend growing up whose parents had one of those rooms. If we went in there when his parents were out he would vacuum the carpet after to hide the foot prints. He’s probably a serial killer now.

Are you SITTING in my Karl Farbman??!!

I’m telling you, don’t send your kids to karate, don’t send them to skateboard camp. (Yes it exists I’ve seen it.) Send them to furniture making classes. They’ll thank you for it later. That’s what they should be teaching in art school, a useful form of art. I can’t count the number of times I’ve needed something to sit on in a gallery after reading the horseshit some contemporary artist has written to describe 2 blobs and a stroke. But maybe making furniture is too much like hard work. Maybe it’s not creative enough. Maybe the medium is too ridged. You know what would make it more appealing? If you could melt wood. Imagine the amazing furniture designs you could have if you could melt wood like plastic. Why can’t you? When I was younger I thought every material could be turned from a solid into a liquid or gas with enough heat. My theory on wood was that you just had to figure out a way to bypass the combustion point. Maybe you can. I don’t know. But I know someone who does.

Question 48: Can you melt wood?

No furniture rant written by a Torontonian is complete without the Idomo guy.

Magic Internet Answer: It is physically impossible to melt wood. Materials like water, metal, rock and even plastic are simple structures that do not go through large changes when they are heated.

Like hot dogs!

But when wood is heated it decomposes chemically. The chemical bonds that hold it together breakdown causing it to come apart. Also when wood is heated in air it begins to oxidize. One might think this could be prevented by heating wood in a vacuum. In space perhaps? But even heating wood slowly in the vacuum of space would not prevent it from decomposing into carbon charcoal and methanol among other components. Not to mention the facts that long term heat exposure lowers wood’s ignition temperature and it would most certainly burn up when reentering the earth’s atmosphere. Ha, ha. Magic Internet make joke.

Well that answers that. You can’t melt wood people. Not even in space. So you steampunks better think twice before loading your wooden R2 D2s into your brass X-Wings.

Ha, double ha. I make the jokes around here.

Hi, I’m Jerry O’Connell.

2011-07-19T16:44:00.000-04:00

But you all know me as the fat kid from Stand By Me.

No not the pie barfing one. The other one.

That’s the one. That chubby bugger is me.

As the fat kid from Stand By Me Johnny Creepshow has asked me to come on here today and relay an important message to my fellow Americans. It would appear that we’re becoming quite the pants loads.

For those of you with digits to lard laden to click on the link or for those of you that can’t stop picturing the McRib long enough to read the article, allow me to give you the gist of it. This month a study was released highlighting America’s downward spiral into obesity in the past 20 years. In 1991 there was not a single state with an obesity rate over 20%. Now more than two-thirds of our united states are at rates above 25 percent. In a chocolate covered deep fried nutshell America is just getting fatter and fatter.

It no doubt cost several million dollars for a team of scientists to bring you this information.

Even though this team could have told you for minimum wage and a promise not to be scheduled this Saturday.

Now you can point your dialing wand at all sorts of reasons for this unprecedented blimp-out. Big business’ control over the country’s food sources, the lack of nutritional standards in school cafeterias, the existence of fried cola. I’m no dietitian or socio-economical expert; I’m the fat kid from Stand By Me. So I’m not going to get into it. Besides, I’m too busy being amused by the fact that a large percentage of my countrymen now resemble what was once a sideshow attraction.

This is Chauncey Morlan. 100 years ago he was considered so fat that people would pay money just to look at him.

Here’s a collection of pictures taken from the first page of a Google Image search for typical American:

Wow! Don’t go asking Madam Ruby to rub her crystal ball and send you into the future Chauncy. You’ll be out of a job.

Actually that’s not true. You can still be a cop.

But here’s what really worries me about America. If these rates continue to rise, we are in serious danger of becoming uncool. There was a time when America set the standard for cool. Remember these guys?

But how is America going to remain cool when we’re all fat? The fat kid is never cool. That’s one thing a lifetime of appearing in bad movies and sitcoms has taught me. Sure you might get to make out with the occasional hot drunk chick in the end or smirk at Chad the bully when he crashes his hot rod or falls in the mud but cool? No. No way. Vern Tessio was never cool. You don’t even know who that is do you? That was the name of the fat kid from Stand By Me!

See. Not cool.

But worry not my beefy patriots. The unfathomable wealth I obtained from playing coked up cans hound Joe ~~Francis Derrick~~ Jones in Piranha 3D last year has given me a lot of free time. And I decided to spend some of it researching ways in which fat Americans can still be cool.

Become a chef.

In the world of culinary arts fat equals experience. People look at a fat chef and think Hmm, he must know what he’s doing. Look at the size of him. Get yourself some funky glasses and a few tattoos and you could be the next Graham Elliot.

Become a Gangster Rapper.

Some of the coolest guys in the rap business are also the fattest.

There’s Big Pun.

Fat Joe.

Notorious B.I.G.

And let’s not forget Heavy D.

And the best part about being a fat rapper is that you don’t even have to worry about the long term effects of your obesity because you’re probably just going to get shotanyways. So all you need to do is brush up on your rhymes, choose a name that lets people no your fat and hit the buffet.

Become a wrestler.

In the world of professional wrestling there are two types of wrestler. Big oiled up muscle hunks.

And human oddities.

(Try to guess which is which.)

And you don’t even have to be that freaky to be a wrestler. Hell the Earthquake was just a fat guy in a unitard.

All you really need is a gimmick. And it doesn’t even need to be a clever gimmick. Jake the Snake Roberts just had a snake.

Oh and you ladies out there, don’t think you can’t get in on this too. Women in wrestling are becoming more and more popular. Just choose a persona and get to body slamming. Here I’ll even help you out. From the deepest dankest shag carpeted trailer in Florida comes…

TheMiss Real America!

Her finishing move could be to pick up her scrawny, emasculated husband/manger and hit her opponent with him. Or better yet she could use one of her kids.

Become a biker.

Bikers have always been synonymous with cool. Think Sonny Barger or Dennis Hopper in Easy Rider.

And one of the best parts about being a biker is that you’re an outlaw, a social misfit. That’s right, you can be as hairy or as dirty or, yes, even as fat as you like.

Try telling these guys to do the truffle shuffle.

And before McDonald’s insured America that a 1,000 calorie lunch is only a short breathless shuffle in any direction to the nearest corner the only way to truly top up your grease traps was to hit the open road.

You could be sitting in a McDinning room right now. Leaning over a 20 piece nuggets and hoping that the aroma of sweet and sour sauce can overpower the acrid stench of pee wafting from the play room ball pitlong enough for you to choke them down. Or you could be out on the open road, perched atop a Harley.Your old lady wraps her arms around your biker gut and squeezes tight and you belch and re-chew a mouthful of chili and heavenly hot dog meat.

Now that’s America.

Oops, you caught me doing a little research for Stand By Me 2.

Well that’s ok. I’m not ashamed of being known as the fat kid from Stand By Me. At least it keeps people from remembering My Secret Identity.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0047

2011-07-13T16:32:00.000-04:00

You know what I watched last week? That’s right Arthur!

Even though Liza Minnelli makes me actuallY shudder, I’ve always loved that movie.

See-through patio pants!! Double shudder and a puke swallow!

I even named my first car Dudley after Dudley Moore. I think it befit the regality of the 1984 Chrysler E Class.

Bonus: Ricardo Monte Balm. Double Bonus: That amazing Chrysler Bat Cave set!

One thing I’d forgotten about Arthur having not seen it in a while was how funny John Gielgud was as Hobson the Butler.

In fact Joseph Marcell’s Geoffrey the butler on Fresh Prince of Bel Air is just a rip off of Arthur’s Hobson.

Nope, Geoffrey it’s true. But I’ll tell you one thing I do think is a lie. Will Smith being from the ghetto. Aren’t people from the streets supposed to look like scary bad asses that you wouldn’t fuck with?

Does this fit that picture?

Fuck, even Weird Al looks tougher.

Now some tough ghetto rap dudes did wear some weird shit back in the day. Something tells me that if you messed with Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five you’d be in for the biggest purple gloved, gold ladies trench coated, yellow leather fringed, Bud Light cycling, pith helmeted, yellow vinyl y-fronted, white cowboy booted ass kicking of your life that would leave you bloodied and laying on a pile of their expensive furs.

And to tell you the truth Will can look pretty tough sometimes.

In a gay guy dreaming about 50 Cent kind of way.

So what say you Magic Internet? Is Will Smith really from the streets? Or was that just made up to sell him to us honkies like Sinbad?

What up dog! I was in the math club and the marching band.

Question 47: Is Will Smith actually from the ghetto?

Princess and the Homeboy- G-Dog - watch more funny videos

Magic Internet Answer: In order to ascertain wither or not William Smith lived or was raised in the ghetto we must define exactly what this term means. The ghetto is a section of a city occupied by a group do to social, economical or legal pressure or an overpopulated urban area often associated with a certain ethnic or racial population. Mr. Smith was born in West Philadelphia but was raised in German town. Germantown is an area in the North West of Philadelphia about 8 miles from the city centre.

Oops, wrong ~~rapper~~ sign.

Germantown is a predominantly black neighborhood and is a considered to be a somewhat impoverished area with about 25% of its population earning an income below the poverty line. That being said Mr. Smith’s parents both had good jobs. His father Willard was a refrigeration engineer and his mother a school administrator. William Smith may have lived in a somewhat impoverished area but he did not come from an impoverished family. That being said, due to its social-economical characteristics and it’s close proximity to the 8th worst drug corner in America (52nd St. and Market St.) I think we can say that yes, Will Smith does indeed come from the ghetto.

Mmmmmhmmmmmm!

Well I stand corrected. Good for you Will. You went from the ghetto to Hollywood. You’re the real life Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Never mind my E-Class. I bet you drive around in Chrysler Lebaron you lucky son of a bitch!

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0046.

2011-07-06T16:11:00.000-04:00

How do you feel about cops? I know this guy that hates cops. But the funny thing is he has no real reason to. He thinks they’re all corrupt and abuse their power and just hassle people instead of doing their job. But as far as I can tell he’s never been arrested or even really been hassled by the police. Now I can understand hating cops if you’re a criminal or some sort of reprobate. I mean there you are doing your thing, you know breaking into someone’s house or hiding in the waste vault of a women's toilet and next thing you know these guys show up with guns and badges and they man handle you and call you a scum bag and take you away to jail. That probably sucks.

See I bet that guy with the glasses hates that cop.

I can even understand not liking cops if you get hassled by them a lot.

Something tells me he has this problem from time to time.

Even growing up in Burlington I had my brushes with the law. Back then it all stemmed from boredom. Dumb kids are bored enough to do something stupid one night and they get caught. Or bored cops decide to see what these dumb kids are up to even though they’re doing nothing wrong. Here in the city it’s a bit more complicated than that. There’s a lot more crime and a lot more criminals and there’s a lot of different neighborhoods that each have their own problems and views on how the police handle them. Does racial profiling exist? Of course it does. Are there corrupt cops? I’m sure there is. Are there cops that abuse their power? Most definitely. But I think most of the cops out there are honest guys doing their job and earning a paycheck. They’re not zooming around like Vick Mackey stuffing kilos of drug bust cocaine into anonymous duffle bags and blowing the heads off corpses to reuse them in undercover operations.

Hi I’m Corey. I’m here to pick up the body of my dead friend Corey.

Yeeeeah. About that…

I think some regular people don’t like cops because believe that cops get away with a lot because they’re cops. Because they’re part of the club and regular citizens aren’t. Maybe that’s true. Cops do seem to look out for other cops. Do you think a cop has ever given another cop a speeding ticket? And if so what are the repercussions? Does he just pay a fine? Is there further punishment because the cop is on duty? Does it cost him his badge and his gun? I’d kind of like to know that. Let’s put an APB out on the Magic Internet.

Question 46: Has a cop ever issued a speeding ticket to another cop?

Magic Internet Answer: I will happily answer this question because the truth lies in technology. There have been numerous instances in which off-duty officers have been given a citation for speeding or for not obeying traffic laws but I will assume that your question only appeals to officers on duty. Although it has occurred it is very rare for an on duty officer to give another on duty officer a citation. Police officers must work as a unit and must rely on one another in times of distress or great danger. Most police officers will agree that stability in their work environment and good relations with fellow officers far outweighs the justification of upholding the law when it comes to ticketing officers for minor infractions. But that is beginning to change thanks to this:

Short Circuit 3??!! Finally! Steve Guttenburg must be almost out of Citizens on Patrol money. Now there was a good cop.

No you idiot it’s a speeding camera. Today’s speeding cameras are automated and they do not differentiate between citizens and officers of the law. Many police officers are now being caught on camera speeding and receive a ticket in the mail. If the officer wishes to dispute the ticket he must prove that his speeding was in the line of duty and justified. Do you not just love technology Johnny?

Hmm. And I thought those speed cameras were just cash grab machines. Maybe they do serve a further purpose in uniting the police and the community together.

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, pasty basement dwelling internet weirdos of insignificant gender. Welcome to the The Creepshow’s 200th Post Parade!

2011-07-05T16:33:00.001-04:00

Let’s join our commentator’s high atop the world’s largest wiener where they have a bird’s eye view of the processions.

They’re both stars in their own right. Please welcome Pippa Middleton’s Ass and the reanimated corpse of Ed McMahon.

Prrrrrrrp! Thank you everyone. What an exciting day, isn’t it Ed?

Hey-oh! Yes! Rrrrrrrr.

Oh my! Here comes the first float. It appears to be a motorcar in the shape of one of your American hot dogs.

That’s right Pippa’s Ass. That’s the Oscar Myer Weiner mobile. It’s here to represent Johnny’s undying dedication to hot dogs. The most fun and nutritious food on earth.

And what is that creature waving out the top of it? Is that a bear?

Yes but not just any bear. That’s the bear that beat hot dog eating champion Kobayashi in one of Fox television’s more artistic and educational endeavors Man vs. Beast. Do we have a clip? Unnnnnhrrrrr. Yes!

We’re back and just in time as the next float is rounding the bend.

Yes! The Creepshow welcomes the ancestors of your native England’s criminally minded outcasts, the Australians.

Oh my. They do look fearsome. And who is that large man in the hockey mask flexing? He looks like that Jason chap that enjoys murdering your sexually promiscuous teenagers.

That Pippa’s Ass is the Lord Humungous, Prime Minister of Australia. Later he will be throwing out jam jars of gasoline to the crowd, the only form of currency in the land down under. But never mind that because right behind him we’re about to be treated to a great display of technical ability by the Ball Pitt Pee Mopers Union 106.

Watch as they mop up gallon after gallon of toddler pee in unison, sometimes holding their breath for up to 7 minutes. A skill they’ve perfected after many years service in the children’s play areas of McDonald’s, Chuck E. Cheese and IKEA.

I salute you brave gents. Prrrriiiipp!

Now we’re in for a real treat. It’s the Art Student Hipster Pirate ship.

They’re flying Van Gogh’s Smoking Skull in place of the Jolly Roger.

And they’re decked out in an array of billowing scarves, one lensed Wayfarers and skinny pantaloons the likes of which Urban Outfitters shall never see.

Watch as the swarthy hipsters swill Pabst Blue Ribbon straight from the can and force real artists to walk the plank with light saber iPhone Apps.

Oh yes. We have those in England too. They attempted to scuttle my new Uncle’s Rolls Royce. But twitching putrid Ed? Won’t those real artists do themselves an injury belly flopping off the float like that?

I’m being told no, do to them all wearing beer bellies full of liquid dog shit.

A reminder for the first few rows on the parade route, you will get wet.

Ho, ho! It reminds me of that bad quail’s egg filled roll I had at the Buckingham Palace Weatherspoon’s. But let’s hope all that liquid shit doesn’t spoil the high kicks of our next group. Because they’re none other than the world famous Hobo Rockettes!

Yes! Pippa’s Ass. But I don’t think they’ll have a real problem with it until they pair up and slip into their Fundies for a special dance that celebrates one of the great urban fears. Seeing hobos doing it.

And on a side note, the smooth suppleness of the Hobo’s legs wasn’t achieved with stockings. That’s real gravy!

Oh yes! The same kind my Grandmother used to rub on her legs to attract sailors during the war when silk was scarce and the same kind I enjoy on my Yorkshire pudding. Feerrrp! Yum!

This should take the pungent aroma of those gravy soaked hobo gams out of the air. It’s the Brute Cologne truck!

No parade is complete without it. Arrrrr Brains!

Mmm, I just love Brut. It smells so romantic. And isn’t that the same truck driven by Sylvester Stallone in Over the Top?

I never took Pippa’s Ass as a film buff but you’re right. Good brown eye you’ve got there. And speaking of films, see if you recognize this braying thespian coming up next.

Is it Sarah Jessica Parker?

No it’s Max the Magical Sexual Mule from the critically acclaimed film Bachelor Party staring Oscar winner Tom Hanks!

I think we have a clip undead Ed.

Oh my, he’s worse than Harry. And who is that riding him?

That’s Nick the Dick.

Ever tried a foot long Pippa’s Ass?

Goodness gracious no. We have the metric system in England. We use yards.

Hey-oh! Well here’s someone that knows a thing or two about converting feet into yards. Ladies and gentlemen please welcome the Magic Internet.

Thank you once living Mr. McMahon and thank you too Miss Pippa’s Posterior. Might I add that you are looking symmetrically proportioned and free from fat cells. And Mr. Reanimated McMahon, I’m curious as to what exactly is causing you to speak and mimic the operations of life? Is it some form of electrical implants or perhaps a neurological parasite occupying your host brain?

Arrrrr! Ha! Try 8 litres of Prince Igor and an old car battery. Yes! Now I understand you’ve brought along a special musical guest straight from the depths of the internet for us?

Yes. His name is McRorie. And he has blended music and computer technology in such a way that can only be showcased through the magical internet.

Wow! That was… that was something.

I feel uncomfortable Ghastly McMahon.

Well it’s about to get a lot worse because here comes the Jheeps float.

This float celebrates that special feeling of transferred discomfort someone gets when witnessing something incredibly lame. A feeling that Johnny likes to call the Jheeps, or Johnny Creeps.

Oh I’m beginning to feel it right now as I watch those extreme roller bladders on that half pipe float.

Yes, I’d feel it too if I wasn’t long dead. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how awful that jumbotron playing episodes of Ready or Not is making the crowd feel.

Oh my god. What’s happening now? Is that an all white person reggae band?

That’s right Pippa’s Ass and their starting up is the signal for the giant flash mob to assemble out of the crowd and dance like everyone’s mom after 3 wines at a jazz festival.

And if you look closely under that floppy floral hat with built in dreadlocks, you’ll notice that the saxophone player is none other than TV’s Blossom.

Oh goodness, no! When will it end? Faaarrrrp.

Funny you should ask, because we are at the end. Here comes Johnny himself right now. He’s dressed in an amazingly detailed Robocop costume and eating a Hungryman dinner while sitting atop a replica of C3PO’s Ewok chair from Return of the Jedi.

The chair is being carried by two Bigfoots at the back and the stars of the TLC’s the Little Couple at the front.

I’m being told that this is to give the chair a slopping hot rod look. A Trans Am Monster truck was considered but the owner crashed it while looking at a girl in a tube top.

Oh, he’s waving at me. He’s yelling and tossing me something.

Oh swoon, it’s an extremely fancy and witty lighter. I think he wants a blue angel.

Hey-Ohhhhhrrrr Nooooo Pippa’s Ass. I’m soaked in vodka!

Click. Prrrrrrrrrrriiiiiippppppp!

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0045.

2011-06-29T16:32:00.000-04:00

Ever since I posted that clip of drunk Superman last week I can’t stop thinking about him. I was never really a rabid Superman fan growing up but we did share our moments. The first movie I ever watched on our Betamax was Superman and when iron on t-shirt shops were all the rage I remember getting a Superman t-shirt made at Oakville Place. Actually it was a sweatshirt. I demanded a sweatshirt because it had long sleeves and Superman’s costume had long sleeves. Yes my parents probably had to shell out an extra 10 bucks but not for their son’s love of Superman. No it was because their son was a pedantic little shit when it came to costume details. Oh well, I was just a kid. What’s this guy’s excuse?

Faster than a locomotive but not as fast as the A43 bus apparently.

I was never really into the Superman comics, although there was this big book at the Burlington Public Library that had a collection of some of the older ones that I used to look at. I remember one had a barber trying to cut Superman’s hair and breaking his scissors.

Yep, that’s the one.

I always liked things like that. The whole idea of extraordinary individuals faced with absurd yet ordinary situations. I mean who knew Superman’s hair even grew? How does he cut it anyway? And what about his whole romantic involvement with Lois Lane? In the movies he always had that infatuated awkwardness thing going on around her when he was Clark Kent. And it wasn’t just an act because he even used his x-ray vision to check out her panties as Superman.

Insert Fortress of Solitude wankadex joke here.

Could they even have a sexual relationship? What if Superman got caught up in the heat of the moment and his super loins jack hammered poor Lois into hamburger? And speaking of hamburger, does Superman eat? And if so does he shit? And if so does he have to shit in a special toilet that can handle it? Or maybe he flies out into space to drops tights. Or maybe his shit is so deadly that he has to throw it into the sun the way he did with all those nukes in Superman IV.

That’s what I want to know. Oh wise and powerful Magic Internet, suspend disbelief momentarily and shed some light on the gastrointestinal secrets of Superman.

Question 45: Does Superman take shits?

Stupid videos

Magic Internet Answer: Sigh, such a stupid question. But I shall entertain it only because it will be a welcome distraction from the repetitiveness of having to look up Megan Fox taking a shit. Many different comic book writers and artists have taken up the character of Superman and put their own spin on his life and history. So when it comes to the subject of Superman’s digestive system there has been a lot of speculation with no concrete facts. Most Superman enthusiasts will agree that Superman obtains most if not all of his energy from absorbing the rays of the sun. It is said that he doesn’t need to eat but does so out of habit. Although he is an extraterrestrial he had a fairly normal upbringing on a farm for 18 years where he would have enjoyed home cooking and many of the other joys of farm life.

Wow. Imagine how fast Superman could Hambone!

Collecting energy from the sun might suggest that Superman shares some characteristics with earth’s plant life but his body is most definitely of an anthropomorphic make up. So it must contain a stomach and a digestive track. And even a plant cannot live on sunlight alone. So for those who say that Superman only eats out of a force of habit, from a scientific perspective they are wrong. But what becomes of the food that Superman eats. Many enthusiasts say that Superman absorbs 100% of the food that he ingests leaving no waste. But again from a scientific perspective this seems impossible. So if it is known that Superman eats. Then yes, he shits. Where does he shit? Well if I am to suspend disbelief as you suggested then I am free to come up with my own hypothesis. Superheroes are very image driven and it is often the upkeep of this image that keeps the majority of uneducated lesser beings (i.e. humans) from becoming frightened or agitated with them and turning on them. Therefore it would not be good for Superman to have civilians see him shitting. Not to mention the damage that it would do. His Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic seems an ideal place for defecation. The name its self suggests privacy. In fact I’m sure many Superman fans have even coined the phrase when referring to their own toilets.

Unnhh, do you know what happens when you keep reversing time and eating the same Double Down? Unnnggghhh, sadly I do.

Any byproducts of Superman also contain superhuman properties and could pose a risk to mankind if they fell into the wrong hands. Like when Lex Luthor stole a strand of Superman’s hair from a museum display where it was holding up a 1000 pound ball and used it to create Nuclear Man.

All the old Superman hair from the movie is also on display at a museum.

It looks like it could threaten mankind with 25 year old head lice.

I would say that the easiest way for Superman to neutralize the threat posed by his own leavings would be to freeze them with his super cold breath and throw them into space. Perhaps directly into the sun as you suggested.

Ahhhhh. Pizza Hutt Buffett. I better get over to the Weather Network now and let them no it’s gonna be a hot one tomorrow.

I knew it! I’m so smart. And here’s something I bet you didn’t know about Superman. He’s actually Canadian!

Truth, justice and the American way my ass!

Oh and you know who else is Canadian? Broadway Joe!

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0044.

2011-06-22T16:00:00.001-04:00

So I see that the FDA just unveiled new graphic warning labels for cigarette packs in the USA. We’ve had those in Canada for quite a while now. Let’s have a look at some of the designs the U.S. MAD-ministration of Food and Drugs Men came up with.

She’s blowing smoke right in the baby’s face! Who does that? She’s either incredibly ignorant or knowingly blowing smoke in her child’s face as a form of abuse. That means she’ll probably kill that baby through ignorance, neglect or a plain old shaking long before it dies from second hand smoke. They should slap this picture of the kid’s dad on the other side of the pack.

That raccoon’s got my smoke! Get it back for daddy.

We have a teeth one here too but it only warns about mouth disease.

The US seems to have one uped us with that gross lip sore though. Oh yeah? Well we beat you at hockey.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Now that’s not even a warning. That’s more like good advice. And with his shirt open like that he’s kind of like Superman. Maybe they’re trying to say if you quit smoking you’ll feel invincible like Superman. But he doesn’t really look happy about it, does he? He looks pissed off like he’s going to punch me. He looks more like that mean drunk Superman from Superman 2. I wonder how many shots it takes for Superman to get wasted. I wonder how many smokes he could smoke!

Probably like this many!

This one is pretty effective. Those trach. holes are pretty creepy. And it’s even worse when you see someone smoking out of one. It always reminds me of Juno the social worker from Beetlejuice.

And you know what the worst is? All the public servants in the afterlife in Beetlejuice were suicide victims. So does that mean she slit her own throat?! That’s pretty hardcore. They should put her on the pack with a message that says, All you smokers are committing suicide just like me, only slower. And then you’re going to have to deal with a bunch of no-nothing shitheads everyday in the afterlife equivalent of the passport office.

Or just put picture of Beetlejuice on the pack.

That creepy little fucker would scare anyone away.

I don’t know. That starched white shirt and loosened silk tie are a warning sign also. This man could just as easily be a product of the rat race. All those rare steak power lunches, coffee fueled Johnson report all-nighters and heart rate throttling the CEOs are in town lap dance grinds can take their toll on a man.

See these business guys don’t appear to be smoking AND they work out.

Don’t get me wrong it’s a good warning but maybe they should add something about the counter-productivity of smoking to the package for business men. All that time spent outside smoking when you could be working.

There you go, that’ll do. Just don’t give out butts with that picture on it to guys in prison. Cigarettes in jail are the same as money. (And so are prison guys butts.)

What is that, a cartoon baby? Who cares about a cartoon baby? What, you could blow smoke in a real toddlers face for the first one but for a baby you have to use a cartoon? And it’s not even a good cartoon. What is that thing on its arm, an iPod? You should have at least got a better cartoonist like John Pound. He’s the guy that drew Garbage Pail kids. He could have drawn a baby way grosser than that.

See! SEEEEE!

Ewww gross! Wait, which ones am I supposed to be grossed out by? This reminds me of that great stand up routine Norm McDonald used to do about smoking.

The pair of lungs on the right look camouflaged. Maybe hunters should smoke so if they’re ever attacked by a bear and it rips open their chest, they can still hide.

Roooaaaar wait, wait a minute what? There was a guy here and I was eating his chest and now he’s gone?! There’s just a pile of leaves. A pile of bloody, heaving shaking, screaming leaves. Oh well I’m off to the dump.

I don’t know. It seems like they’re spending an awful lot of money trying to reinforce something that every idiot should know by now. And isn’t smoking on the decline in the west? You can hardly smoke anywhere in North America. I’m pretty sure that’s why sexy Johnny Depp moved to France.

Which is funny because didn’t America invent smoking? Or wasn’t it at least discovered there and then passed on to the Europeans? Oh Magic Internet. I am sending you heap big smoke signals.

Question 44: Is America responsible for smoking?

Hmm, this is an interesting question and one of your least stupid yet. The answer is yes with an underlying no. You see smoking can be traced all the way back to sometime between 5000-3000 BC. Early South American civilizations would burn incense during rituals, a practice that was later adapted for pleasure.

Well that sure stood the test of time.

Although Columbus reported seeing American Indians smoking tobacco in the 1400s and was even given dried leaves as a gift, it was reported that he threw them away and tobacco was not properly introduced to Europe and Asia until the 16th century where it followed common trade routes.

Way to go Columbus. Another reason while you’ll never be as cool as Andrew Dice Clay.

Why don’t you go discover planet Fagatron, Ohhh!

Yes, yes, Johnny. Enough of that buffoon known as the Dice Man. Early American settler John Rolfe was credited as the first person to successfully raise tobacco as a cash crop. This became a boon for early American settlers with much of their harvest being shipped to the old world. But it was Jean Nicot who first introduced it to Europe through France and it is from his name that the word nicotine derives from. So you see although smoking may have originated in the Americas and appears to be first discovered there it was in fact a Frenchman who was to cause it’s spread throughout Europe.

Always blame the French, huh?

Oh well. Thanks for the info. Magic Internet. I think we all had fun today. Oh and Chris, sorry for saying that Andrew Dice Clay is cooler than you. I think you could definitely give him a run for his money now.

Check ya later folks. Don’t smoke em if you got em.

How I spent my summer vacation.

2011-06-21T15:40:00.000-04:00

Happy Summer Solstice everyone!

What does it mean? Well today is the day that the earth’s axis is tilted 23.4 degrees relative to the sun and the sun’s rays are at their most powerful here on earth. So what should you do? Well if you’re in or near England and you’re one of those smelly hippy types you can head over to England’s oldest tourist trap Stonehenge.

Just don’t drink too much mead and don’t forget your wizard costume or you won’t be allowed to participate in the super hot revolting 78some.

And don’t drink the brown mead. It came out of this guy.

Oh and don’t let Clark Griswold be your designated driver.

But seriously what it really means is the start of summer. Today it officially begins. And I can’t help but reminisce about some of the great summertime fun I’ve had over the years…

How I Spent My Summer Vacation: Age 8.

Growing up in Burlington my house backed onto a creek. I spent a lot of happy times playing in that creek and summers were no exception. One summer day I was playing in the creek with this kid named Luke. Luke was never really a friend. He was one of those future mental cases that would beat you up one day then knock on your door the next and ask if you wanted to come out and play. If you said no, he’d beat you up the next day. So many of us neighborhood kids tolerated him but never really liked him. Kind of like that stupid Ewoks cartoon they played on Sunday afternoons.

I still get a hint of back to school tomorrow depression when I hear that horrible theme song.

So there we were me and Luke marching up the creek with sticks. I don’t remember what we were doing. I want to say we were searching for treasure. Because treasure we did find. Luke was in front leading the march and as we rounded a bend in the creek he spotted something. It was a plastic bag partially submerged in the water!

Yes, one man’s environmental hot button topic is another man’s treasure.

But better yet Luke exclaimed that there was something metallic sticking out of the bottom of it. Now this definitely warranted a closer inspection. For mankind’s lust for that which is shiny and metal has brought civilizations to their knees. I surged forward to get a better look but Luke pushed me back and grabbed the bag. Not wishing to share in the spoils.

Now this is where I will stop my tale to explain something. Just imagine you’re Fred Savage and I’m the story telling Granddad from Princess Bride played by Colombo.

You see the creek didn’t just back onto my yard. It backed onto many yards in the neighborhood. Some of these yards had sizeable lawns and back then you couldn’t buy these:

So lazy guys would just wheelbarrow their leaves and grass down to the bottom of the yard and dump it in the creek. But some of these yards had dogs and even lazier guys. Now with that in mind, let’s continue.

Luke hauled the bag up over his head in an effort to both keep it away from me and to examine the shiny metal thing. Well that shiny metal thing? It was an old ripped up pop can. And its sharp edge wielded by the forces of weight and gravity made short work of the bottom of that bag. Spilling it’s bounty of liquid dog shit all over Luke.

File Photo: Luke’s treasure.

He ran screaming home and as I couldn’t think of what else to do, I ran right after him. By the time I reached his house he was already inside, not to be seen again that day. But I did see his older brother Tyler. He looked at me and said in a Kung Fu voice, Asss-ho! You want the dewy max? Turn your balls into fortune cookie. And he kicked me nuts. And that’s how I spent my summer vacation.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0043.

2011-06-15T15:56:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder about all you folks out there reading my blog. I wonder who you are and why you’re reading.

Maybe some of you are 1940s federal agents that accidently fell into a confiscated time machine in one of the Hoover building’s evidence lockers while trying to sneak a quick belt of hooch. And now you’ve been thrust forward into the modern world where you’re hanging on my every word waiting for me to say something pro-communist.

Maybe some of you are highly stylized vainy ninja turtles. Intrigued by my frequent mention of C.H.U.D.s as you live in the sewer and hoping to learn more in between intense lifting competitions.

And maybe some of you are as equally intrigued by me. You may be sitting their wondering, Who is this slightly demented individual, where does he live and why is he so obsessed with midgets and hot dogs?

Electron Microscopic File Photo: My brain.

I could never hope to answer all your queries. But I can shed some light on a couple. Hot dogs are easily transportable, nostalgic and delicious and as for my domestic situation…

A refrigerator box?

Yeah right. Like I can afford a place downtown.

One of those Jason shacks in the woods complete with mother’s head shrine?

Exterior File Photo: Curb appeal

Interior File Photo: Staging.

No. I see enough of my mother as it is. I’d rather have the head of the mother off the Wonder Years. So I can shout at it as a stress relief.

Your husband Jack was such an asshole and you just stood there in the kitchen and took it! And why aren’t you out on DVD yet??!!

But I did recently purchase a house. It’s a nice little house in the east end of the city. And you know what I learned? I learned that the house paint industry is now run by pedantic fuckwits . Let me give you an example. Let’s say I want to purchase some white paint. The last time I bought white paint it came in maybe 3 varieties. There was gloss white, shell white and at a push some form of ivory white. Do you know what I have to deal with now? Tell ‘em Micro Machines guy.

There’s kitten white, romance white, song porcelain white, pristine porcelain white, white pearl, eloquent ivory, ivory coast, artesian white, natural white, cuddle white, wedding silk, macadamia white, Bavarian crème, manuscript white, pelican white, china white, dry martini white, marshmallow, white mountain, quiet solitude, minimalist white, inspiration white, Swiss coffee white, winterwash, stone white, wentworth white, atmosphere white, silk moon, crisp linen, raindrop white, crystal white, pearl drop white, antique white, Belgium lace, winter’s day, quiet retreat, white wing, drifting snow and (my favorite) white on white.
Excuse me Home Depot while I go eat 5 tins of Alphaghetti and puke all the Ws, Ts and Fs all over your fucking paint swatches. They’re all white and this is bullshit! When I was in school my best friend in art class was a guy by the name of Roy G. Biv. If you knew Roy, he’d always help you out come test time. You know why? I’ll tell you.

Red

Orange

Yellow

Green

Blue

Indigo

Violet

Those are all colours. (Although, if you ask me, even indigo and violet are pushing it.) Yes you can get different tones and hues but I hardly think you need some over paid think tank sitting in their offices, downing scotches ala Don Drapper, trying to reinvent the names of colours so they better reflect someone’s mood/food & beverage choice/wedding day.

Megan, call up Benjamin Moore and inform him that orange and brown mixed together is now Country Store.

Burgandy’s Corrrrdoooooovan, wahaaa-ha-ha-ha.

That aside, I do have a few of my own:

bachelor porcelain

veggi dog

some asshole’s car yellow

Some asshole’s car yellow also comes in a brighter hue called some asshole’s jetski yellow. Hey speaking of yellow, I heard a while back that someone did a study or something that showed there was a greater degree of domestic violence in homes that have yellow kitchens.

Guess what colour paint I spilled in the garage?

I don’t know if it was the yellow colour that angered people or if painting your kitchen yellow is a sign of social instability but I always took it as fact. Do you think it’s true? Do yoooou think it’s true Magic Internet?

Question 43: Do yellow kitchens increase domestic violence?

Magic Internet Answer: There is absolutely correlation between a domicile’s kitchen colour and an increase in domestic violence. And you Johnny are a complete idiot for believing otherwise.

Oh yeah Magic Internet. Well I have something to say to you...

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0042

2011-06-08T16:49:00.000-04:00

I was perusing one of the numerous Simpsons reruns last night. It was the one where Side Show Bob fakes his own death. (Actually that probably refers to several episodes involving Side Show Bob.) But in this one Bart ends up in a coffin about to be cremated when the Simpson family bursts in and Homer picks up a cardboard box marked unclaimed ashes and throws a handful in Bob’s face while yelling Eat hobo ash! Needles to say I found this highly amusing. I’d show you the clip but it doesn’t seem to be online. So I will placate you with this equally amusing classic Simpsons hobo scene:

But that hobo ash thing got me thinking. What happens to all the hobos and crackheads and John and Jane Does that wind up unclaimed at the morgue? They can’t keep them in the lost and found forever.

Sooner or later they’ve got to clean out the fridge.

And cremation would seem the most logical solution. It would make them easier to store and/or dispose of. Hey maybe they sell it off as like a souvenir. The L.A. County Coroner’s Office sells all kinds of souvenir crap.

Hey what’s that I see in the corner?

Genuine hobo ashes in handy display bottles!

Or they could sell bags of it for your garden.

Just like zoo poo!

Actually that seems a little morbid, even for a Coroner’s Office with a gift shop. Probably better to sell it off to a big corporation for some shady purpose. It could be what’s fleshing out Chicken McNuggets. Do you know how they make those things?

Let's just say you’d rather have a tour of the morgue than the McNugget Factory.

But seriously what does happen to all the unclaimed bodies at the morgue? Let’s ask the Magic Internet and put my mind at ease.

Question 42: What happens to unclaimed bodies at the morgue?

Hobo Ops - watch more funny videos

Magic Internet Answer: You humans are always asking question about death. In my days of endless Googling I can tell you that there are much stranger and more fearsome questions to be asked about you human’s lives. But it is a valid question and one of your less stupid so I will answer it. A body only winds up at a coroner’s office if the death is deemed to be violent or suspicious or the body is unclaimed. Unclaimed bodies are categorized in to three types: unidentified corpses, identified corpses unclaimed by family members or identified corpses whose family cannot be reached. In the cases of the later 2 there can be many different reasons why the body remains unclaimed. The deceased may have been someone that moved around a lot with no fixed address. They may be an immigrant with no family nearby or their family may not wish to incur the cost and responsibility that comes with claiming the body. In these situations the coroner’s office will do its best to return the body to the family.

Attn dead guy: If your last request involves something like this. Good luck getting claimed.

They will usually keep the body for about 30 days but it could be as little as a week depending on the office and the space available. When the allotted time is up the body is scanned, dental x-rays are taken as well as DNA samples for a record and then the body is removed for a low cost burial or cremation. The samples taken can be filed indefinitely in the hopes that the body can be identified at a later date. The Ontario Provincial Police have even released some of this information onto a website for the public to view in hopes they can help. But if an unidentified body is part of an ongoing or open investigation it could remain at the morgue for a very long time. Bodies are normally kept at a temperature of 4C but if the body is to be kept longer it will be kept at much colder -20C. In fact the Toronto coroner’s office has the body of a female murder victim found 35 years ago still in its freezer.

Yikes Magic Internet. Stuck in Toronto at -20C for 35 years!

Insert Canadian winter joke here.

But maybe it’s better to be safe than sorry. One week seems a little premature. They could just be hibernating.

Insert 2^nd Canadian winter joke here.

Just as long as they make sure they’re actually dead. Hell Bernie Lomax was dead for a week and nobody noticed. So it could work in reverse. They could be a Hard Man Fe Dead. Right Prince Buster?

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0041

2011-06-01T15:11:00.000-04:00

Do you have those bottle people in your neighborhood? You know those people that come around and collect empty wine bottles and beer cans?

These guys.

We’ve got a few of them in my neighborhood. Some I just see now and again and don’t really recognize but some I see almost every day while walking the dog. This morning there was a standoff between two of the regulars. The guy with the wheely cart that looks kind of like an uglier, weirder Kurt Cobain

He looks kinda like this.

was standing facing a fence chain smoking.

And the little old Chinese lady with the shopping cart

She looks exactly like this.

was up the street sitting on the curb yelling at him in Chinese. I’m not sure if he was just ignoring her or holding back a psychotic episode but he looked like he was in a bad place. Eventually a construction worker that was working on the house where Kurt was standing came out and seemed to defuse the situation somewhat. He asked both parties what they were doing. Kurt mumbled something about smoking and Chinese lady shouted some more in Chinese. The construction guy then fell back on his well honed standoff training and told them both to Get lost!

If only someone had said that to David Koresh, this never would have happened.

But this whole neighborhood-cat-like bottle collector standoff was bound to have happened sooner or later. No one likes someone honing in on their racket. There are only so many bottles and cans for the picking. The thing I don’t get is how they can be out there every single day. It’s like a job to them. Sure I guess there’s the fresh air and the exercise. And it’s nice to be your own boss. You can do what you want when you want how you want. Like Dr. Fad!

Today I send out 40,000 Whacky Wall Walkers while wearing only lobster bib and boner.

But can you really make a living doing that? I always figured it was for people looking for a quick bit of money but who knows. Maybe they know something that I don’t Maybe it’s a lucrative business. Maybe the real Kurt Cobain should have picked up bottles and cans instead of picking up a guitar. He was good at picking up garbage.

I don’t know. What do you think Magic Internet?

Question 41: Can you make a living collecting empty bottles and cans?

Magic Internet Answer: To answer this question we must question the factors involved. Firstly, what is the monetary value of the alcoholic beverage containers being collected? Before February 5th, 2007 only beer bottles and cans were returnable at Ontario Beer Stores. But under the new Ontario Deposit Return Program all wine, beer and spirit bottles are returnable. The value of these containers is as follows:

Containers 631mls or over carry a $0.20 deposit

Containers less than 631mls but more than 100 ml. (including cans) carry a $0.10 deposit.

Containers less than 100mls are worthless.

Next we must factor in how many of these containers can be collected in an hour. If a collector spends 3-5 minutes per household and collects an average of 4 containers at each stop they should be able to collect an average of 60 containers per hour. Now if we are generous and say that one quarter of these containers holds more than 631 mls then the average hourly monetary gain will be $7.50. Well below the current Ontario minimum wage of $10.25 an hour but still possibly enough to live on. But an 8 hour day of collecting would amount to 480 containers collected over some 120 locations. Though it may be possible to visit this many locations by following a daily refuse pick up route one would need a means of transporting all said containers with them and then transporting them to the Beer Store for deposit. The sheer volume of 480 assorted beverage containers would require a large cart or wagon that would be difficult to handle thus slowing down process.

This lady could help make the cans more manageable. Course you might need another cart for hers.

Bonus: The look on the host’s face.

That is truly frightening Johnny. The final problem in full time container collection is that the Beer Store will only accept a maximum of 120 containers for deposit per visit. So in order to deposit all 480 containers in one day you would have to visit somewhere between 2-4 Beer Stores per day. This would not only cut into your daily pick up schedule and cause you to lose containers but could easily turn your 8 hour day into 10. So on final analysis, yes you could make a living collecting empty bottles and cans but you would have to work long hours for less than minimum wage.

Hmm. All of a sudden picking up a guitar does sound like a more lucrative option. Unless you’re in the The Zit Remedy.

Thanks MI!

I hate the men's room.

2011-05-31T16:40:00.000-04:00

The men’s room is a horrifying place.

When women visit a public washroom they often go in groups and spend an inordinate amount of time in there chatting, applying makeup and doing whatever else it is that women do in the ladies room. When a man has to use the men’s room, it’s like a mission behind enemy lines. Go it alone. Don’t be spotted. Touch as little as possible. Get in and out quickly and stay alive.

File Photo: Alternate Men’s Room sign

Men’s rooms are gross. That’s because men are gross. I’m in no way one of those obsessive compulsive clean freaks but after the things I’ve seen, I can fully understand why someone would do everything in their power to avoid public bathrooms all together. You want to know? You really want to know? Ok, I’ll tell you. But you’ve been warned. Where do I begin? Let’s start with…

Urinals

The urinal is about the only thing I’ll use in the men’s room. The stalls are just too scary (I’ll explain later.) There are essentially 2 types of urinals:

The high.

And the low.

Possibly the inspiration for Ah Ha’s, Hunting High & Low album.

Bonus: What’s that one guy doing with his ass?

The low type is the rarer of the two and by far the worst. Sure it makes it easier to aim so there’s less pee on the floor but unless you make sure to aim for that sweet spot somewhere in the middle, you’re going to get splash back on your feet or even worse on your pants. And the sweet spot on every one is different. I swear these things were designed by those carnys that run the ball in the peach basket ~~scam~~ game.

Step right up to the urinal! Don’t get piss on yourself and win a feathered roach clip or an Ah Ha decorative mirror!

Even with the high urinals you could still wind up with back splash as they tend to suddenly flush on their own when you’re in mid stream. Oh and sometimes they’re full of pubes!

I don’t know how this happens? Are there men out there that unzip and just start shedding like dogs? Or do they stand their finger combing their gorilla salad into the urinal while they whizz? I don’t even know why I’m asking these questions because frankly, I don’t want to know. And that’s another thing, this whole Willy Watcher bogeyman that everyone is afraid of. So many men think that someone is going to look at their junk when they’re taking a leak. You see them cupping their hand to hide it or forgoing the urinal all together and pissing in the stall. Some urinals even have little dividers.

These one’s feature smoked glass, allowing your penis to be well lit but still maintain its privacy.

I’m not sure if it’s feelings of male inadequacy (the money generated annually from products related to small wiener worry must run into the billions) or homophobia (you’d have to be a pretty hard up gay guy to resort to scoping wangs at the urinal) or both (I don’t even want to know about the inner turmoil of a homophobic man that’s worried some homo is going to think he has a small penis). But you know what? I don’t care. If someone is going to steal a glance at my junk while I pee, so be it. I won’t know because I won’t be looking at him. But try as you might, there are certain men in the men’s room that are pretty hard to unsee. Like the toddler pisser.

Now I’ve never seen the full on pants and underwear down variety of toddler pisser but I know someone that has. The worst I’ve seen is pants down with light blue Fruit of the Looms. It doesn’t sound as bad until I tell you I saw it about once a week at a place I used to work and the man looked a lot like Gene Shalit.

Worse than the toddler pisser though is the gunslinger. This is the guy that already has it out when he’s about 12 feet from the urinal. You zip up turn and BANG! I got hit with one of those a couple months ago and the guy was like 80.

I still get flash backs at the 7-11 counter.

But all that aside the urinals are still your safest bet. And it could be worse. In the UK a lot of places have those troughs.

I heard a story once about a boy lighting a paper boat on fire and sending it down one of these when everyone was lined up after a football match. Classic.

Or how about Bangkok?

Scary!

Speaking of scary, cue the voodoo jungle drums because it’s time for ~~number~~ part 2…

The Stalls.

My advice to you is don’t. Just don’t. But sometimes when the lineup for the urinal is too long or you really have to go, a man’s gotta suck it up and be a man in the men’s room. And let me tell you, preparing to enter a men’s room stall is like a detective preparing to enter a murder scene. You hold your breath and pray it isn’t too bad.

File Photo: Too bad.

To those men that have no qualms about hankering down and dropping them off, see that handly thing up there to the left? That’s the flush. Use it. I don’t want to be greeted by that pile of bangers and mash you’ve so callously left to disintegrate in the bowl.

The men’s room daily lunch special.

But honestly that’s the least of your worries. There can be poo on the floor, poo on the seat, poo smeared on the walls. Anything goes in there. Men’s room stalls offer up that public anonymity that let disgusting people be disgusting. The men’s room stall is like a prototype for the modern internet comments section. This reminds me of the one lighter side of entering a stall, the bathroom graffiti. Sure you get your usual suspects. You know, so and so sucks dick, so and so is a slut, the odd racist comment and crude depictions of the female anatomy. But sometimes you come across some real gems. Here are a few of my favorites:

Show me that smile again! (surrounded by music notes)
- In the stall of the now closed Tap bar in the Annex

Free cowboy hats.
- Below the seat cover dispenser, don’t remember where.

A detailed drawing depicting a man with 3 dicks and sperm with wavy lines coming out of them. The caption underneath read, Man of the future.
- Burlington Leon’s men’s room.

Welcome to a dumping experience.
- I want to say the El Mocambo but I’m not sure.

Here be Ghoulies.
- Stall in the Skillet Zellers restaurant, Applebly Mall Burlington circa mid 80s.

That last one always scared me as a kid because I was afraid of monsters in the toilet after seeing Ghoulies.

But you don’t have to enter the men’s room stall to live in fear of it, oh no. Much like the urinals there are a few special types of stall users that can bring the experience to you. Like the J. Edger Pooper. Legend has it that J. Edger Hoover the infamous head of the FBI used to like to hold meetings in the men’s room while he was taking a shit.

By the looks of him, those were looooong meetings.

Now with the never ending use of the cell phone, Poopers can pay homage to Hoover by conducting their own meetings while on the can. And if you’re in the men’s room you get to overhear every word of it. If you listen carefully you can hear the audible strain and lowering of tone in the voice as he dispatches a particularly vicious dead otter into the bowl. Or worse yet is the assassin. You think you're alone in the men’s room until you hear the faintest of shuffles or catch the reflection of feet in the men’s room mirror as you wash your hands.

The assassin doesn’t make a sound while anyone is in ear shot. But don’t linger by the door on your way out. For as soon as he feels he’s alone, he’ll let loose mercilessly. But worst of all is the Dumb and Dumper. He just doesn’t care. He’ll burst through the men’s room door and head for the stall at full hustle. (This is top speed for the D & D.) Your final warning might be an inarticulate below or a revolting declaration (Something along the lines of, I gotta shit large!) before he just unloads.

This type of man epitomizes the horror that is the men’s room experience.

And that’s it. I’m done. I’ve dwelled on this for far to long. Smell you later. Hopefully not in the men’s room.

P.S. An honorable mention goes to the drunk guy that pisses in the bathroom sink instead of waiting in line. You truly are a retched human being.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0040

2011-05-25T16:18:00.000-04:00

I was reading the other day that every dog’s nose is different and you can identify a dog by its nose print!

We’ll no more when we get your crotch down to the lab and dust it for prints.

Maybe they should start a database of dog nose prints. You could get your dog’s nose print on file with the vet and then you wouldn’t have to get your dog micro-chipped or tattooed.

Lost: 2 yo white Pitbull named Mayhem. Looks like this. Has matching tattoo of my head on its belly also surrounded flames. Note: Actual dog’s head not on fire.

The shelters would have a little device that scans the dog’s nose and runs the scan through a database and presto, you get your dog back. I think it’s a good idea. But then again I think these are a good idea too:

Pro: They allow for better control of my peanut butter intake.

Con: Mutton doesn’t get to lick the knife.

Hey, speaking of licking, did you know that every tongue is different too. It’s true. Every tongue has a distinctive pattern just like a finger print. I wonder if a tongue print has ever helped solve a crime. We could ask McGruff but he’s busy sniffing some guy’s crotch or eating his own logs or something, so let’s ask the Magic Internet.

Question 40: Has a tongue print ever been used as evidence in a criminal trial?

Magic Internet Answer: There is no known record of a tongue print or impression being used as evidence in a criminal investigation. There have been many cases in which saliva and the DNA contained within has been used to convict a suspect and a few cases where teeth have been matched to bite marks on victims but no tongues.

Oh well. How many criminals are going to go around leaving tongue prints anyway? And can you imagine having to go down to a police station and lick the same pad as all those other criminals!

Shudder.

Although I don’t think this guy would have a problem with that.

Smell ya later folks.

Macho Man Randy Savage November 15, 1952 – May 20, 2011 R.I.P.

2011-05-20T14:41:00.000-04:00

~~Ooooooh Yeeeeeeah!~~ Ooooooh Nooooooo!

Randal Mario Poffo better known as Macho Man Randy Savage died this morning after suffering a heart attack while driving that caused him to veer off the road into a tree. This was confirmed by his brother Lanny Poffo.

Better known as the The Genius.

As I’ve said before I was never a huge wrestling fan, more of a casual admirer. All major WWF matches and Slams were big topics of discussion in the school yard so I had to at least keep up with current events. I don’t recall how I felt about Macho Man in his hay day. I assume I disliked him as he was often portrayed as the villain. But 25 years later I just can’t get enough of him. Those Slim Jim commercials:

You know kids, it’s just a school play. You don’t have to be in it. And who knew biting into a Slim Jim makes things explode?

Except maybe your heart!

Ouch, too soon Gilbert. His talk show interviews:

And best of all, his pre-match interviews:

I am in love with this clip and I will never get tired of it.

Look Randy. I don’t know if you were crazy, or on drugs or just an amazing actor but one thing you will always be is damn entertaining. You’ll be missed and never forgotten. Ooooooooh Yeeeeeeeah!!!

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0039.

2011-05-18T21:56:00.000-04:00

You know what I’ve been thinking about lately? Burials at sea. Last week when I heard that Osama Bin Laden was buried at sea it reminded me that I used to have a big fascination with this practice. It all started after I saw James Bond's funeral in You Only Live Twice.

How fucking cool is that?! He even had a fully functioning office on a submarine! Complete with hat rack! After I saw that movie I’d take this plastic toy mummy into the bath with me and pretend it was Bond faking his own death.

I’m pretty sure it was this one out of the 1970 Secret’s of the Mummy’s Tomb G.I. Joe play set.

Bond would solemnly slide of the edge of the tub into his watery grave somewhere down around my junk only to be stealthily retrieved by my Actionman SAS Frogman that I got from John Menzies in Scotland.

Exhibit A: Actionman SAS Frogman.

Exhibit B: John Menzies

Saddly, unlike agent 007, both are no longer with us. I guess Bond got a burial at sea because he was supposed to have been in the Royal Navy. But it’s not a bad gig when you think about it. They just stick you in the ocean and then the fish eat you, very environmentally friendly. And maybe when Richard Branson gets his Virgin deep sea tours thing going,

It looks like a cross between an old Fischer Price toy and a Lindt chocolate bar

your skeleton can wave at everyone like one of those fish tank ornaments.

What are the rules for being buried at sea? Are there any? I thought the ocean was like no man’s land where you can gamble, shoot fireworks, and put Freon in your car’s AC. Do you have to contact anyone? It seems kind of weird just going out there and dumping a body without telling anyone. Magic Internet. Up periscope!

Question 39: Are there any laws for burials at sea?

Magic Internet Answer: There are a number of laws keeping an individual from merely dumping a human body in the ocean. Human remains present a sanitation and public health risk so most countries have strict laws governing their transportation. The body will have to be properly embalmed or at least in a sealed casket and a copy of a death certificate must travel with the body.

Or you could go the cheaper and more hilarious route of just purchasing a pair of sunglasses.

Once you are sea bound there are further laws governing the disposal of human remains at sea. And keep in mind that when you are in international waters you are to obey the laws of your vessel’s home country. In Canada, burial at sea is covered under the Environmental Protection Act and a permit must be applied for at least 8 weeks in advance.

8 weeks! I’d hate to be in that line up.

Most funeral homes that deal with burials at sea apply for the permit yearly in advance so that they do not have to wait 8 weeks before burial. A fee of $2500 must also be paid to the Receiver General for the permit. The body will also require a medical certificate stating that it is free of any disease that may become waterborne and a notification of the intent to bury at sea must be made in a local news paper.

Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be allowed to Twitter it soon.

Sup Bros! I’m dead. LOL

The deceased must also be identified with a permanent identification tag that includes the phone number of the funeral home in case the body resurfaces or is dragged up by fishing vessels.

Hey, this one’s wearing Grandad’s wedding ring!

For this reason also the burial must be in at least 200 meters of water and be at least 3 nautical miles from land. It is also recommended that the coffin be made of wood or steel and be of a sufficient size to hold the body plus at least 90 kilograms of additional weight to hold down the body.

Finally! A use for my old gold weights.

It is also recommended that you drill at least 12 holes at least 2 centimeters in diameter to allow for quick flooding of the casket and to allow gases to escape during decomposition. Then all that is left is to say some words of good bye and commit the body to its watery grave.

Not exactly how I picture my funeral ,

but thanks Magic Internet.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0038

2011-05-11T15:05:00.000-04:00

(Doff of the hat to the Weird Dudes.)

Everyone is talking about the super dog that helped capture Osama Bin Laden.

My dog Mutton is related to a super dog. His name is Puff Daddy. Here’s a video of him showing off his special skills at the Calgary Stampede.

Let’s see that Navy SEAL dog go through Bin Laden’s legs 3 times while he’s walking.

But seriously, these navy SEAL dogs are pretty amazing. They get their fangs replaced by titanium teeth so they can bit through body armor!

Like Jaws from James Bond!

Sexy time ladies.

And the dogs wear body armor too. They get it from this crazy company called K9 Storm.

I wonder if they have dog body armor that can resist bites from those stupid little weepy eyed old lady dogs that are such antisocial shut ins that they bark at and attack any dog they come in contact with during their 10 minute once a month walk?

I watch 6 hours of Coronation Street and eat 8 Peek Freans a day. I kill you! I kill you!

Hey do you think the Navy SEALs had to pick up the dog’s poop?

Special agent Sparky’s bending one in Osama’s cabbage patch. Cover me fire team Bravo. I’m going in.

Or maybe the dog wears a tactical diaper.

They probably just blow it up like they did that helicopter. So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. They can’t make a dog wear a diaper. Look at that poor dog up there. That constitutes a war crime. And besides, Navy SEALs don’t wear underwear either. Isn’t that where the whole phrase going commando comes from? What is with that phrase anyway? I remember reading in a book once that the SAS would take off all their clothes when it started raining and store them in their bergens so they wouldn’t get wet and they’d just march around in the nude. Can you imagine being set upon by a nude SAS team?!

Limited Edition Rainy Night Raid Action Man! (Shame covering trench coat sold separately.)

But is there any real truth to the going commando phrase? Or was it just a throwaway line from Friends that became a valid excuse for not wearing underwear? Lock and load Magic Internet. You’re going in.

Question 38: What is the origin of the phrase going commando?

(Hmm. Arnold wore underwear in Commando. A rare oversight from the film’s research department perhaps?)

Magic Internet Answer: The true origins of the phrase going commando remains unclear. Some believe that it stems from the phrase going regimental which refers to Scottish soldiers wearing nothing under their kilts.

Around 26% of all romance novel material also stems from this.

Although the phrase going commando did not appear in print until 1985 it began creeping into the American college campus vernacular around 1974. This date may have significance in the phrase’s origin as it marks the wind down of the Vietnam War with many young soldiers returning to America having worn no underwear in the jungle for better ventilation. The mid 70s also marks the upswing of America’s macho lothario culture.

This picture pretty much sums up that whole time period.

Many young men may have chosen to go commando in order to emulate some of the adult film stars that were on the rise during that time. They may have felt that to be sans underwear meant that they were ready for action, yet another phrase with a military origin.

Hi, I’m Marky Mark. I played one of those 70s porn guys in Boogie Nights after I became famous for wearing underwear and singing Come on! Come on! Ironic, huh? Come on! Come on!

Going commando eventually became a phrase used by the common public after it was mentioned by the character Joey in the hit sitcom Friends. So what was once a military necessity which then became an unhygienic practice believed to increase one’s preparation for sexual activity is now printed on t-shirts to be worn by witless individuals.

 And used to sell Mars bars. 

 And the name of a popular children’s video game sequel.

Hurray for stupid! Thanks Magic Internet and a special thanks to Matt LeBlanc for bringing going commando to the attention of the idiot masses. Here’s his equally idiotic Heinz Ketchup ad from back in the day.

You know who else likes ketchup?

Justin Timberlake when he plays a 70s adult film star!

What a coincidence, huh? Come on! Come on!

Thinkin' of a master plan.

2011-05-06T16:28:00.000-04:00

When you’re a little kid having money is great.

Because you know that the only thing that money is going to be spent on is pure unadulterated pleasure. You’ve got no bills to pay, no mortgage, no debt. That crisp dollar bill or handful of change is going to be spent on toys and candy and nothing else.

Millions of dollars is spent every year on useless plastic shit like this that will be fit for the garbage in less than 2 weeks.

Sure you could try to save your money. You know, so you can buy that even bigger more expensive piece of plastic shit that your parents won’t buy for you. But you won’t last, you’ll cave. I remember when I first laid eyes on Robie the Robot at Radio Shack in Oakville Place.

I had to have him. The only problem was he cost something like $300. I believe my current net worth at the time was around $7. I went home that night determined to save up enough money to buy him. Visions of Robbie bringing me Cokes and calling other kids on our street Fuck face danced in my head as affixed a piece of masking tape to a jam jar and wrote Robie Fund on it. 3 weeks later that jar was empty and I was the proud new owner of a Zoid or something

Wind me up and watch me suck.

See that’s the problem with being a little kid. Sure your entire income is disposable but you basically have no income. You’re too young to work so your money making options are limited. Here’s how I made money as a kid.

Allowance.

I think my allowance started at about $1.50 a week and got all the way up to about $8.00. Not a lot of money but I didn’t really have to do anything for it. My parents never really gave me chores. Sometimes they’d tell me to clean my room but only when it got to a hazardous state of uncleanliness. Like Garfield’s room.

Also like Garfield, I shit in a box in the laundry room.

One time my mom tore my whole room apart because there was this weird smell. She found a whole package of sliced deli ham rotting in a drawer. I was using it to feed my Star Wars figures. Another time a strange smell tipped my dad off to a jar of gasoline hidden under my bed. I may not have received my allowance that week.

Chores.

When I was a kid I did chores when I wanted extra money. I don’t know why my parents didn’t just give me the money. If you ask a 7 year old kid to rake the yard you’re just going to wind up with a really shitty looking yard still full of leaves and possibly a broken rake. I guess they wanted to teach me responsibility. I’d hardly call spending the $3 I earned on 90 seconds worth of Dragon’s Layer at 7-11 responsible.

Game 1: I died. What happened? Game 2: I died. What happened? Game 3: I died. What happened? Game 4: I died. What happened? Game 5: I died. What happened? Game 6: I died. What happened?

Money from relatives.

Lots of kids get money from relatives. The older relatives give it out as a kind of reward for coming to see them and the younger relatives give it out so that the kids will like them and it’s easier than actually paying attention to them or playing with them.

Hey kids, your Uncle Johnny’s here. Ummmm, ok. Here’s $5, see ya!

But when I was a kid all my relatives were in Scotland. I still got birthday and Christmas money from them and when we went there to visit it was like being a high roller in Vegas but I couldn’t really rely on them on a weekly basis.

Tricking dumber kids into giving me their money.

I actually learned this from my sister. She used to ask me if I wanted to play restaurant. Then she’d pretend to be the waitress and make me a peanut butter sandwich and try to charge me for it. It always ended up with me refusing and a fight. Maybe I should try that at restaurants now.

What do you mean I have to pay for it?! I thought you made it for me! I thought you were being nice!

There was this girl Melanie that lived around the corner that was really dumb. She would trade a dime for 4 pennies because she thought she was getting more. She was also afraid of the dark so if you could trick her into going into the garage you could shut her in there with the lights out and not let her out until she slid change under the garage door.

Tricking dumb adults into giving me their money.

A lemon aide stand, a crappy play performed on the front lawn or in my case charging to look at robots built from house bricks with an air mattress pump in a bucket of water that was supposed to be them talking. All of these are good ways to fleece money from neighborhood adults. The key to it is whatever your business endeavor/theatrical display/technological house brick marvel is it should be pathetic. The more pathetic the better. For some reason adults find pathetic things kids do cute.

Collecting bottles.

This was a major source of income for me. When I was a kid pop manly came in 1 liter glass bottles and when you returned the empty bottle to the grocery store you got money back. I can’t remember how much but I do remember being so obsessed with the Karate Champ game in the Appleby Mall that my parents had to hide all the pop because I would chug it or dump it out just to take the bottles back.

I easily wasted enough money to buy a couple of Nintendos on this stupid game.

Even better than pop bottles though was beer bottles. My house backed on to a creek and a wooded area and every weekend in the summer a bunch of 80s rocker dudes and their chicks would head into the woods with a bunch of 24s and party. Sometimes I’d see a couple of them going up there early to stash their beer or I’d see one of the older ones coming out of the beer store when I was there with my dad. I remember one time I saw this one guy come out of the beer store with a case and he had a 10 speed bike with the handle bars flipped up so he could stack his 24 on there and use the case handles to steer. He and all the rest looked like this:

On Saturday and Sunday mornings a friend and I would get up early to survey the wreckage of the night before’s rockathon bush party and collect all the empties. Sometimes we’d find a few full ones and bring them back to our dads. Sometimes we’d find money too. One time we went up there and there was a dude still laying there passed out. We thought he was dead and ran screaming back to our parents. But when we took them back up there he was gone.

File Photo: Gold mine!

On a good morning we could make almost 5 bucks each!

And if we’d known what this was back then, probably a hell of a lot more.

So what do kid’s today do for money? Damned if I know. Probably teach computer courses or something. Who cares any way. Modern kids suck. They don’t go outside and they can’t eat peanuts. I’m going to go make a peanut butter sandwich and mail my sister a nickel. Smell ya later.

Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 37

2011-05-04T14:43:00.000-04:00

You know what one of my favorite commercials is? This Delissio Pizza vampire goth ad:

Ah ha ha ha ha! Isn’t it awesome? I would love to have been a fly on the wall when they came up with that one.

Ad Man 1: You know my daughter Christine has got a boyfriend. He’s one of these Goth types. He looks like a god damn vampire!

Ad Man 2: Oh I know. My son Brian, he listens to that Marylyn Manson. Have you seen this guy?! He looks like he just stepped off the set of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I told him listening to that crap would turn him queer.

Ad Man1: I bet he didn’t like that.

Ad Man 2: Not one bit. He told me to Shut Up! And then he started crying. Kids today, huh? Anyway, back to this pizza thing.

The best part is that the ad only came out like last year! Who’s still doing goth commercials? At least the Kia ad was somewhat in keeping with times. That Delissio commercial is the advertizing equivalent of a Christmas gift from an elderly aunt.

I know you like the Turtles so I knew you’d like it.

Yep, all you teens that are into Vampires right now, expect a bunch of Twilight crap for your 25th birthday. And you know what? You all deserve it because I’m sick of you and all your vampire crap. When I was a kid I was into Dracula. But being into Dracula only ment that sometimes I’d put on a cape and those plastic teeth and run around the house going, Bluh, bluh, bluh! These modern Dracula kids are taking it wayyy to seriously. They’re getting fang tooth caps, they’re biting each other, they’re even wearing perfume that smells like human blood!

I got news for you kids. Vampires aren’t real and you’re not vampires. But if vampires were real, I’d have a few burning questions for them. I kind of get the whole concept of how vampires work. They’re basically dead and have no blood of their own pumping through their veins so they have to suck it out of other people yes? And the whole process of sucking blood seems to have this erotic overtone to it. That makes sense too. Activities that sustain you should feel good. Like eating hot dogs or when you take a big wizz and go, Ahhhhh. Plus making blood sucking sexy will help the vampire lure victims into a false sense of security. Maybe it just seems sexy to the victim and Dracula is just putting on an act so he can get his lunch. Although some people do like to combine eating and sex.

Those people frighten me.

But can Dracula even get a boner? It seems to me that someone who has to suck blood out of people isn’t going to have a lot to waste on growing a chubby. And speaking of extra blood, I’d also like to know if Dracula takes a wiz too. You all know what’s coming next.

Question 37: Can Dracula pop a boner and can he take a leak?

Magic Internet Answer: I cannot believe I am entertaining the notion of answering one of these asinine questions let alone two. However I will answer both only because each one is so stupid that it barely registers as a whole thought to me. So let us get on with it. As I have done many times before when answering your questions I will ignore the obvious flaws and we will pretend that vampires exist. That being said let us examine just how a vampire functions.

Blood goes in here.

A vampire is a demon that posses a human corpse. It feasts on blood to sustain the undead flesh of the host corpse and help to heal injuries to it but the blood does not circulate they way it does in a human. There is however a venom like fluid that flows through their bodies and acts in many ways like blood in a human, lubricant between cells and helping the body move. It is plausible that this fluid could fill and expand cells in the same way that blood does and create an erection and there have been instances in modern vampire folklore of vampires obtaining erections and having intercourse with humans. This may be part of what makes the modern vampire lore so appealing to women. I just wonder if they realize that lusting after a vampire technically makes them necrophiliacs?

Yuck! That makes falling for a 7 foot cat man that lives in the sewer seem downright normal.

A vampire does not eat and can only take in so much blood at a time and every drop is used to sustain the host corpse. Therefore there is no waste. So a vampire does not and cannot as you so eloquently put it, Take a wizz.

So it's yes to popin' a B and no to takin' a pee.

Well there ya go Grandpa Munster. You’ve got an excuse for at least one problem.

Thanks MI!