Where the hell have you been?

Please allow me to apologize with as much sincerity as I can possibly muster for my extended absence from this space. The Krampus season was full of mirth, date cookies, and highway miles, and has disrupted my normal routines in several ways.

For example, I have been doing things other than holing up in my fortified estate typing on this blog. For one thing, I saw a movie about a white marine who sexes up blue aliens. It was called Dances with Space Wolves. I also saw another movie, about a white business guy who sexes up a white business lady and flies a lot. It was called Airplane Road Trip. It may be the best movie I’ve seen in years (note: I have not seen many movies in the past few years).

However, I have spent most of the time I would usually devote to combing the Internets for lulz and giggs worthy of my loyal followers in the pursuit of reading words that some crazy fool has stamped onto paper rectangles and glued together. My grandpa calls these things “books,” and this one in particular is riveting:

I hope to be back to my regular schedule of useless typing soon. In the meantime, do yourself a favor and hope they turn Wolf Hall into an HBO mini-series or something. I only have the one copy, so it will take forever to pass it around to all of you…

Wednesday Filler: What really happened to Silvio Berlusconi

Via the always-excellent Warming Glow

Tuesday filler: Sexy pilgrim

Because the Big Aristotle himself tweeted this last night:

Ladies, start your engines

I hate to generalize based on decades, but I think it’s safe to say that the men of the 1980s were the sexiest men there ever were.

Careful, watching this video more than once can lead to pregnancy.

Wednesday Wobbling Whimperfest (and link dump)

Normally it’s Father Scott’s job to clean up the sad tears and corndog crumbs of the prior evening’s episode of The Biggest Loser. But he’s in Prague on my behalf this week, trying to secure me several necessities for my new Czech mountain redoubt.

Last night was the “makeover episode” which is like the Super Bowl of weeping. Not only do they dress the rapidly reducing contestants in silk finery hand-picked by tastemaster Tim Gunn, but they also “surprise” them each with visits from family members on the show.

Here’s a math formula I devised to show how the makeover episode works:

Presence of family members + new threads – (Jillian² + Bob) = (∑)∞

Where ∑ = the number of times someone cries openly.

In the end, one of these blubbering messes had to go home. Turns out that was Rebecca, who complained the entire time about people pointing out that she had such a pretty face for a fat girl. While her complaint is understandable, she should really take a look around before saying stuff like that at a TV camp full of fatties. Most of those people are fat and ugly, Rebecca. They don’t want to hear it.

Rebecca’s loss keeps Liz in the competition. Liz is funny, because she is slowly morphing into President Bush. Last night, as the contestants pulled their way across a gorge on ropes, she did it with her eyes closed the entire time. She literally said “I know that whut I cain’t see cain’t hurt me.” TELL THAT TO THE TALIBAN, PRESIDENT BUSH!

Meanwhile, former Biggest Loser contestant Tara is blogging about the show for People magazine’s Web site. Here’s her lede from last night:

“I can remember so vividly the memories of makeover week.”

And they say journalism is dying.

Anyway, here’s some links to shit that I’ve been sitting on for a while. Enjoy.

• Scientists have successful regrown replacement rabbit penises in a lab. Because why the fuck not? [Wired]
• Newly discovered Mayan murals depict the lives of regular people. They are shown drinking Velveeta from clay pots and watching Two and a Half Men. [LiveScience]
• Researchers in Egypt may have found the remains of 50,000 members of the Persian army that were consumed by a sandstorm 2,500 years ago. Long story short: prepare to be massacred by the howling reanimated bones of an ancient desert army. [MSNBC]
• Here’s more than you ever needed to know about the dust under your couch. [LiveScience]
• Check out this map of the US states by smoking rate. Look at it closely. There’s a subtle trend there. Here’s a hint: The moron states have the most smokers. Nice work, Kentucky. [WSJ]
• I love Steven Pinker, even when he’s tearing people I like a new one. Here he is explaining why Malcolm Gladwell is part genius, part nincompoop. [NYT]
• Wine rankings are total bullshit. Except for mine. I give points based on whether I paid for it or not. It’s free? Perfect score!! [WSJ]
• New Yorker writer Ken Auletta hosted a panel discussion on the topic of humor with Judd Apatow and Sarah Silverman. He tried to be funny. Bad idea. [NYT]

Bob Ross makes you scrub the latrine

ALRIGHT UP AND AT ‘EM, MAGGOTS! TIME TO GET YOUR CANDY ASSES OUT OF THAT BUNK AND TRY YOUR HARDEST TO CONVINCE YOUR MOMMA THAT YOU ARE NOT

THE

BIGGEST

MISTAKE

OF HER LIFE!

WHAT’S THAT, MAGGOT? WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU?

BECAUSE I’M ALL OUT OF YELLOW OCHRE, AND IT’S DAMN HARD TO MAKE HAPPY LITTLE BUSHES REFLECT IN THE MOUNTAIN POND WITHOUT YELLOW OCHRE.

WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE I USE, MAGGOT? TITANIUM WHITE?

THAT’S IT, GET YOUR ASS OVER TO THAT LATRINE. IF IT’S NOT SPOTLESS BY THE TIME I’M DONE PUTTING SOME SNEAKY LITTLE BIRCH TREES ON THIS WINDSWEPT MOUNTAINSIDE, YOU’LL BE BEATIN’ THE DEVIL OUT OF THESE PAINT BRUSHES FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL LIFE!

DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, MAGGOT?

5 (Happy Little) Things You Didn’t Know About Bob Ross [Mental Floss]

Who’s what now?

Over in the Guardian (UK), a guy named Peter Tatchell gets all aflutter in an article asserting that famous black person Malcolm X was bisexual, and advising the reader to “get over it.” The piece is actually called “Malcolm X was bisexual. Get over it.”

OK, I’m over it. But what about this?

It is also worth celebrating that many leading black icons have been lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (LGBT), most notably the US black liberation hero Malcolm X. Other prominent black LGBTs include jazz singer Billie Holiday, author and civil rights activist James Baldwin, soul singer-songwriter Luther Vandross, blues singer Bessie Smith, poet and short story writer Langston Hughes, singer Johnny Mathis, novelist Alice Walker, civil rights activist and organiser of the 1963 March on Washington Bayard Rustin, blues singer Ma Rainey, dancer and choreographer Alvin Ailey, actress, singer and dancer Josephine Baker, Olympic diving gold medallist Greg Louganis, singer and songwriter Little Richard, political activist and philosopher Angela Davis, singer-songwriter Tracy Chapman and drag performer and singer RuPaul.

Wait a minute. Greg Louganis was black?

Short answer: Um, no. Swedish/Samoan.

Slightly longer answer: He was adopted, so do we reaalllly know?

Slightly longerer answer: RuPaul is a leading black icon? Does Greg Louganis know about this?

Malcolm X was bisexual. Get over it [Guardian]

 

Wednesday Whaley Whimperfest: NBC and Hulu are stupid

Father Scott

You may have noticed there was no Tuesday Tubby Tearfest this week. Here’s why: I missed The Biggest Loser the previous week (Celts opening night y’all) and was like, “Oh, I’ll check it out online later.” NBC is a major network, works really hard on Hulu (they advertised on the Super Bowl!), so obviously this was a flawless plan.

Except Hulu and NBC.com don’t put the episodes up right away. “That’s fine,” I thought when I checked Wednesday. “There needs to be some sort of penalty for me missing the actual airing, and thus missing all the commercials, which is how they pay the big bucks to attract that ogre Jillian Michaels to the show.”

Then I checked Thursday. No dice. Nor all weekend.

So it gets to be this Tuesday, and I can’t catch up in time for the new one. THEY WAIT A WEEK BEFORE POSTING THE EPISODES.

I demand an explanation. How am I supposed to catch up, ever? By penalizing me for missing one show’s worth of commercials, they force me to never watch on time again, which means I always watch online, which means I only see one or two low-rent commercials, which I’m sure don’t pay the big bucks.

Plus, it loses momentum. Part of the joy of watching the show is talking with other people about it, or in my case, writing about how much these fatboys and gals cry.

I fear that I will never recover, fair reader (hi Jaelynne!).

Anyway, I think this is stupid. If I had DVR, I could easily do more damage by fast-forwarding through the commercials. For some reason DVR is an asset to networks, but online is a replacement. This is totally nonsensical, and sometimes I wonder if TV networks have any better idea of how to work with the Internet than newspapers did.

I hate both of you NBC and Hulu. Unless this is a one-time thing, in which case everything is fine and I’ll catch up soon.

AMOUNT OF CRYING IN THIS WEEK’S EPISODE

No idea, since I don’t have any momentum to go on. For me, the over/under is 0.5. You should take the over.

WHO’S GOING HOME

I don’t know who’s there LA LA LA

DELICIOUS TREAT TO EAT WHILE WATCHING THE SHOW

Since I can’t watch the show, does this mean I can’t eat the delicious treat? OH HELL NO. This week’s treat: chocolate chip pie from some place in Raynham that Jaelynne frequents, and then doesn’t finish and lets me devour during lunch. NICE.

H1NDone

Well, that was a disappointment.

Not only was I forced to board a plane for my least-favorite place on earth last week, but nary a day and a half after landing was consumed by the onset of the flu. Alternating between freezing and sweating like Father Scott on the racquetball court, I spent an entire work week in Las Vegas tethered to a bed, eating room service soup (terrible) and watching daytime TV.

I watched an entire episode of Tyler Perry’s House of Payne, people. That’s how bad it was.

I’m still not 100% sure it was the H1N1 virus that befell me, but the ER doctor/best man at the wedding I attended in Chicago said he was positive that was the case. So there you have it.

As you can see, I made a miraculous recovery — just in time to swoop in on an effervescent and charming lady I met up with in the Windy City.

Friday Random 10: You can’t overestimate Gerry Callahan

Father Scott

On my delicious nine-minute commute this morning, I got to hear the dulcet tones of Gerry Callahan say the following on EEI (paraphrased):

“You can’t overestimate the importance of the return of Brett Favre to Green Bay.”

Oh, Gerry, Gerry, Gerry. I’m afraid you don’t know me well. Watch how I overestimate this:

I say the return of Brett Favre to Lambeau Field is 12 times more significant than the invention of the cotton gin. Lewis and Clark trekking west? Bitches. Genocide in Africa? I wouldn’t bother myself with such trifles when I can spend my mental energy on imagining what the 650 lb. McCarthy couple thinks about some old guy throwing around a leather ball for three hours.

Am I being petty? Of course. But this is one annoying verbal tick that needs to go away. I don’t just mean in sports. News, politics, finance, whatever. Just say it’s interesting, or this means more to Wisconsinites than the local grocery stores’ buy 12 wheels of cheese get one half-off sale (OK, that’s also and overestimation.) You can always overestimate stuff and always sound stupid.

Like, for instance, you’re at a conference for work but have a tickle in your throat so you stay in your hotel room the whole time, but then stay up late tweeting about the World Series. In that case, you’re probably overestimating the effect of your sickness. Either that or you’re just a disgrace to your Viking ancestry.

UPDATE: Related: Via @Adam_Schefter on Twitter: True Factoid: What was “Minnesota Avenue” in Green Bay was officially renamed this week “Aaron Rodgers Drive.” That’s pretty awesome.

The songs:

I And Love And You, The Avett Bros.
Gimme a Sign, Ryan Adams
Pennyroyal Tea, Nirvana
Billie Jean, Michael Jackson
A Fond Farewell, Elliott Smith
Faithfull, Pearl Jam
Made You Look, Nas
Gone Gone — NYC, Conor Oberst
Sunlight, Harlem Shakes
Play Your Part (pt. 1), Girl Talk

Bonus video: