philrancid: (to the flesh!!!)
At the end of the day, when he was going home, Mer-Man stopped and said to me, "He-Man, you're my best friend." I'm hoping maybe he gets sick or something tomorrow and stays home. You can only take so much Mer-Man.

Dude. Welcome to my new addiction. [livejournal.com profile] heman's LiveJournal.

So--there's probably been a lot going on out there that no one has noticed or something somehow and all that, but I've been busy missing it all and talking on the phone.

I was in the shower the other night, and the 1812 Overture was stuck in my head (at least I think it was that one), and I think that that's the music that was associated with the original Bad News Bears, or, if it wasn't, then I sure as fuck was associating it with it, and thene that got me to thinking about the new Bad News Bears movie. Which got me to wondering why in the fuck someone would want to remake a movie like that. Come with me into Imagination Land:

It's a boardroom somewhere, and the powersuits are throwing auras of authority forth like the projectile vomit of babies allergic to their formula. The Young Idiot guy is sitting there, talking ab out hopefuls for the Movie Company's latest project, and he gets to Billy Bob Thornton.

"We approached Billy, but...damn, is that bastard grumpy. He reminds me of Walter Matthau in--holy shit!! (the others all clutch their heads in pain. YI's ideas are seldom pretty to behold) No, wait guys, this one is good. We can remake the Bad News Bears!!"

And, instead of asking "Why in the fuck would anyone want to do that?" they decide to humor him and pray one of the child actors will eat him on location.

(note to self: The Workable Fixative is not your coffee. And you will not like what happens if you manage to bring it over to your mouth and work out how to drink from it)

And in the midst of thinking of all that, I was struck with an odd visitor from Memory Lane:

"Flight of the Bumblebee" really used to Ping my youthful Whatever. Sugar-free madness every time. Seriously. If you wanted to watch me totally freak out, play that fuckin' piece. I would act out running like hell; and trying to hide from the Bumblebee. Because, while I was always reminded of a bumblebee by the piece, it was never one that just flew peacefully from flower to flower, in a verdant meadow--

I mean, this is me we're talking about here. And some things have been around with me since Before Forever.

My version of the Bumblebee was the size of a VW Microbus. And he liked to fly around and impale people on his stinger. The size ratio was all wrong for his stinger to pull out, so he would just swoop down and skewer someone and fly around with them, trying frantically to get them off his stinger, so that he could swoop down and nail the next dumb fucker. And he wasn't getting me.

It could be a hundred and eighty degrees outside, and if that shit played in the car, up went my window, till my sweat poured out of me and whistled like a million mini tea kettles. Fuck that damn bee. Sting someone else, till the music ends.

So this is what I was thinking about in the shower. I also wondered how they intended to make up for the sad lack of Early 80s Hair in the BNB remake. I thought that in the previews BBT looked pretty fuckin' natural with a beer in one hand throwin' baseballs at people. I think they should remake Dodge Ball now, with him in Rip Torn's part. I think ol' Billy Bob could really pound a wrench into someone's head with some absolute fuckin' BEAUTY. Especially if he was holding a Coors sixteen-ouncer in the other hand.

And then, suddenly, I remembered "A Fifth of Beethoven". That's right, you junior-leaguers out there--someone once thought they would be cool if they made a disco tune out of Beethoven's Fifth.

And then I remembered Disco Star Wars--don't remember the name. But they took the theme from Star Wars and made it disco. KISS even made a disco song. Disco was the all-pervasive evil, the Mark of the Beast. We laugh about it now, but it is a nervous laugh, as we try to forget that John Travolta was nearly a finger-tossing Hitler on a lighted dance floor, leading us into a World War of style travesty that would annihilate EVERYONE.

Where, I ask you, would Iron Maiden fans be, had Disco Hitler taken the floor too many times? Bruce Dickinson to a dance beat, you hell-whores! No sold copies of Back in Black, unless Angus Young was rocking that wock-a-chi-ky wah pedal till his soul gave it up for the gravy.

And thus, we were saved. I think Kevin Bacon taking an arrowhead through the throat on the big screen had a lot to do with it, but that's for another time.
philrancid: (potted hand)
Baby Firefly is hotter than fire on the mufuggin sun, when she's doing that little lip-synch thing--whoo.
philrancid: (Default)
I would also like to leave you with a short passage from The Lord of the Rings, By JRR Tolkein:
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"...the..."

HA HA HA--I'm so goddamned funny your spleen just jumped out n slapt ya inda lip!
Bulldog! RAWF!!
(flings bulldog on your browser)

And now...

Aug. 5th, 2003 11:39 am
philrancid: (Default)
Happy Bits...starring America's favorite axe-murdering three-year-old!!
philrancid: (Default)
Wolf! Here and Now!
philrancid: (Default)
potato potato potato,
they ate my soul...
dunk-dunkle dunk-dunkle poo-poo
philrancid: (puppet)
As all of you know--because you're about to read this next part--I've just recently returned from a vacation in Key West. Vacation from what, you say? The vacation wasn't for me--I just got to ride along. But before I get into all that, I would like to discuss the neat things my brain does for me--like read things wrong when I'm preoccupied. There's nothing quite like having to stop and look again, in confusion, after having read that your "Fabric Softener Liquid Refill" is actually the Fabric Softener From Hell.

My favorite is still the time when I was shopping at the giant hardware store and mistook a guy's rainslicker for a Yellow Vinyl SLUT--I was like, what aisle are those on?
philrancid: (Default)
STUMBLE DOWN THE STAIRS
PULL OUT ALL YOUR HAIRS
COUPLING WITH BEARS
IS BAD BECAUSE IT TEARS

IF THEY ATE ME THEY'D HATE ME AND NO ONE WOULD DATE ME
IT'D KINDA DEFLATE ME AND NOTHING WOULD SATE ME
AND THE ONLY THING LEFT WOULD BE TO HAVE THEM CASTRATE ME

SO I FLING POO.
POO
POO
POO
POOO
POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
MOTHERFUCKER, POO.

November 2012

S M T W T F S
    1 23
45678910
11121314151617
1819 2021222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 04:14 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios