Monday, August 30, 2010


Anyone watch this?

Neither do I.

BEST Week.

Worst Week is a show that had a short run on CBS recently.  It's, in essence, Meet The Parents, the TV Show.  A few months ago, it was added to Netflix Instant, so I've revisited it -- twice.  Finishing the second reviewing of the finale as I type this.

It's the most cringe-inducing television show I've ever seen in my life.  Awkward in every sense of the word.  You almost find it unenjoyable -- almost.  Sam, the main character, played by Kyle Bornheimer, is a better horrible son-in-law than Ben Stiller could ever attempt to be.  His charm, wit, and brilliant under-the-breath double-talking makes it possible for you connect with a character that otherwise deserves to get socked in the face -- a lot.  

Sam's wife and her mother are fine characters; they do their job well enough.  But the other reason to watch this show is RED.

Red Forman.

Kurtwood Smith, to people from my generation, is known from his major role in the TV show "That 70's Show" as the grumpy parent to the main character.  His role in this show isn't really a stretch, but it's always nice to have a little more Red in your life.

Queue it up.  You'll know weather it's for you or not within the first 5 minutes.  


Sunday, August 29, 2010

O'Hara, my hara.

Watching HOME ALONe right now, just felt the need to post about unbelievibly magnificent Catherine O'Hara.

Home Alone, Waiting For Guffman, Best In Show.

Kind of the best "mom" ever.

Story Time, Friends!

So, one Wednesday evening, as we're getting ready to finish up our work and head home, we get an email.

"The server is down..."

The server is down?  Yeah, right; we'll see about that.

The server was down.

So, we try and bring it back up.  Before we could even compose that sentence in our minds, we realize that it's not just down, it's broken.  Completely, 100% broken beyond repair.

They don't want to hear it.  They want us to fix it.  The honest reply of "There's nothing TO fix" has no effect on them.

After hours of pleas, turns out... *drum roll* -- THE SERVER IS BROKEN.  They let us leave... as soon as we order a new one.

"We need a drink"

We meet up with group of friends at a bar and begin to drown our sorrows in a pint of Boont.  Eventually, we're drunk enough to try and "dance" to some Gorillaz and Ratatat that we put on the Jukebox.  The night is ending on a pretty good note.

And then the bartender comes up to us, "You guys need a card for your tab."

"Well, we have one up there... so, we're good.  Thanks"

"No, you don't"

"Yes, we do?"

"No, you took it off."

"That never happened."


Turns out, it was someone that looked just like them.  Some random dude decided to check out our card.  Sucks, right?  Well, it could have been worse.  We got the rest of our drinks that night on the house, and we ended up getting all of our previous charges reversed.  BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

Eventually, we've had enough to drink.  Not really, it was 2am and they kicked us out.

"So... it's only 2am on a Tuesday; what do we do now?"

Turns out, we go to a hotel that our friend is staying at.  We walk in; the guest of the hotel proclaiming how drunk he is, the rest of us silent behind him.

As the elevator doors begin to close, a hand protrudes from them and the doors re-open to reveal the Bellhop.

"Where's his key?" as he points at the third dude.

The guest replies "I have a key," as the doors begin to close again.

Again, sausage fingers stop the doors from fully closing.

"Where's HIS key?" he asks again.

"I have a key, and he's with me, so it's fine"

We go through this exchange once more, until he finally lets the doors close and we make our way to the room.

Skipping the part about us sitting around a room, doing nothing, talking about nothing.

And we head outside again.  It's 4am and they start selling alcohol again!

(Tip: No, they don't.  Why did we ever think that was something that was real?)

While we're out, we decide to disband this little party and try and get whatever sleep there is left.  We send one of us home in a cab and head back to grab our things to leave.

As we walk back into the hotel, empty-handed, we're stopped in the middle of the lobby by the same Bell Hop.


We're all shocked.  We have no idea what he's talking about.  With the fact that we've been gone for a good hour, what noise could we have made?

Our heroic hotel guest steps up to the Bell Hop and begins to cut him down in size.

"LISTEN.  You don't yell at me.  I'm a paying guest at this hotel and you don't talk to me like that.  They're my guests, they're not staying the night; we're going up stairs to get our things and then we're leaving.  Can we do that?"



He points to a woman standing behind the counter.

"Excuse me, can me and my guests go up stairs to grab--"

"Yes, of course.  I don't know what he's doing." gesturing to the Bellhop.

We make our way back up to the room and grab our belongings, preparing for the final awkward walk through the lobby.

We walk by, give the Bellhop a nice little wave, and voice our opinion of the staff ("Great service here!").

Walking down the street, laughing about what the crap just happened, we're greeted by a friendly shout from the outside of the hotel.


Oh, man.  Really?  We were done, dude.  We were going home.  Why do you have to be so crazy?

We walk back, and proceed to ask him these questions.  Why does he have such a bone to pick with us?

He continues to yell profanities at us as I take down his name and make sure to leave a note to call and complain tomorrow (later that day).

With my phone out, I get the brilliant idea of taking some pictures -- or at least acting like I was.  Before my phone is even horizontal, he drops his cigarette and SWING at me.  Kocking both my hands and my phone out of them.  My phone flies about 5 feet away and bounces on the ground -- still working, though.  As he attempts to flee back into the building.  I grab his arm and, in that moment realize, I either have to take him down to the ground or let him go.  I decide to let him go, nothing really warranted a tackle.

Fairly anti-climactic, we all decide to just not talk about the incident and just head home.

The End.

Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide? More like Ned's AWESOME AWESOMETOWN AWESOMELY Guide

Just another reason on the long list of reasons to love Netflix.  Recently, they added all three seasons of Ned's Delcassified School Survival Guide to their Watch Instantly.  I've always been a fan of the "teen tv-shows" that Disney and Nickelodeon put out, but I always remembered this one being the best.  

Good to know I was right.

This show is still fantastic.  It's parodies itself while working as the thing it's actually parodying.  What?  I know.

Patagonian Rats

I'm listening to it right now.  I could have said that at pretty much any point during the past 78 hours and 60% of the time, I'd be right all the time.  It semi blew my mind at first listen -- which is a bad thing.  I remember how much I disliked certain albums when I first heard them (The Mars Volta and Hella, for example).  Turns out, they're now both in my top 5.  When I realized I liked this album right off the bat, I have to say I was a little worried.

"I'll be sick of it in a week"

Well, it hasn't been a week, but it is definitely "wearing off".  While a couple of the songs (Aped, Party With Gina, In Citrus Heights) are kind of beyond epic, I find the album to be almost... annoying at parts.  I can't help but think, as with EVERY album I listen to, "What would the instrumental version sound like?  Probably like this ___________.  OH GOD, THAT'D BE AMAZING"

I know it won't ever happen, but instrumental cut of this album... please?

Moar truffles.

P.S.  Wikipedia, put their page back up.  The arbitrary "notability" requirements you guys have will be the death of you.