Ain't no party like an airbrushed truck party

Sometimes the view from my front door is too wonderful for words:



Later on the A-Team van, KITT, and Magnum's Ferrari stopped by for mai tais.

The art of the headline

From the BBC News England page today:

'Nuns' go on the run for charity
Heroes remembered by canoeists
Two-year-old becomes Mensa member
Prince starts ancient custom walk
May Day frolic on Dorset giant
Dad uses internet to deliver baby
Meerkats 'not very good as pets'
Pagan refuses to leave Stonehenge
Pupils ill after bulb put in soup
Customers watch armed robbery

What an interesting place that England must be.

Australian Siblings Interpretive Baywatch Dance

I saw this on The Soup last night: disturbingly entertaining:

This is not a baseball blog 23 (I think)

Plex from Yo Gabba Gabba (in middle)

Red Sox co-owner Tom Werner who seemed to have radio ear muffs on all weekend.

Caption Contest

Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments...

'Worst song' Agadoo re-released

Hooray!

Pop Quiz

To what unintended embarrasment is the folksy Ms. King referring, below?

"I just figured it was another commercial until I looked up," viewer Cora King told the Arizona Daily Star. "Then he did his little dance with everything hanging out."

The answer: The inadvertent transmission of porn to some cable subscribers in Arizona during the Superbowl last week.

If Anyone Is Feeling Generous...

Christmas is fast approaching, and with it my annual digest of wonderful present ideas your friends and family will love. In the interim, if you all fancied clubbing together to get me this, I wouldn't be too upset:

James Bond's Lotus up for auction


If you act fast I could have it in time to drive to see The Quantum of Solace in Thomaston this weekend.



Be the Bond.

"Hope" even touches spammers

I just received my first spam email offering pictures of a n*de Michelle Obama. Now, despite the existence of any such photos being as likely as there being pictures of John McCain naked draped in sausage links and raw steak (you are welcome) one has to admire the chutzpah of the spamographers. When all else is lost, they keep repeating "yes we can!" and send out teases and requests for off-shore shelters for smuggled diamonds.

Bless their little cotton socks. Keep striving, spammers.

They are preparing McCain's meatkini, just in case I'm wrong.

Sorr'rite, untit.

Via King 'cross the water Walter Mondale in Norfolk- England's finest county, my spiritual homeland, and the land of 800,000 potential Jeopardy champions (as every sentence spoken there ends in a question, dunt'it); we present the very lovely and heartwarming East Anglian version of Estelle and Kanye West's hit "American Boy".

I can't read, and I can't write, but that don't really matter, because I'm a Norwich City fan and I can drive a tractor.

Why Can't More News Stories Start Like This?

Fire crews hunt escaped hamster with chocolate camera

Rickles and Griffin

I am so glad I flicked over to the Emmys in time to see Don Rickles and Kathy Griffin beat the snot out of the crowd, the TV audience, and each other.

"Everyone standing? What is this- a Jewish holiday?"

"And the Emmy goes to, Hardy Dickman."

Man, I love Rickles. And even better, they had him followed by Sally Field. I wish he had shaken off his model-minder and stuck around on stage.

UPDATE: They gave Rickles an Emmy, so he insulted Clint Eastwood.

Clown Club? Is that Microsoft's Version of Google Apps?

I have no particular animus against Microsoft, and found this ad (below) strangely calming and enjoyable. And yet, I haven't the first idea what the heck it has to do with software:



To me this ad reveals that John Hodgman's performances in the Mac commercials were apparently based on Bill Gates himself and not a generic pc bumbler, however. Nice research, John.

Caption Contest

Who Wrote Beethoven's 5th Symphony?

When my friend Listmaker began his recent campaign to raise awareness about the inanity of the American radio interviewer Terry Gross I have to admit I was resistant to joining his charge. Ms. Gross may not always ask the most probing of questions on her show Fresh Air she does have good guests and her conversations with mendacious conservative blowhard Bill O'Reilly and mediocre bassist Gene Simmons are classics of the art.

Last night however Ms. Goss uttered a statement about her guest Rhett Miller (from the Old 97s) that brought me over to Listmaker's dark side. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you what might be Terry Gross's most idiotic comment to date. I wish I could find it verbatim, but this is as close as I can remember it:

We'll talk more with Rhett Miller about his serious- but thank god unsuccessful- suicide attempt...

I'm glad she pointed out that he was unsuccessful, otherwise she would have blown my mind, conducting a probing interview via a ouija board.

Theme for the summer

Soft rock it, you Kiwi comedy folk lotharios:

Ooooo Nooooooo

First, apologies for my recent absence. Family bid'nez, work, extra curricula lunacy, and a head full of snot have combined to keep me from posting.

Second, I'm two tracks into the new Fratellis album and it is BLOODY AWFUL.

I know you indie savants out there would probably claim the first album was rubbish (why don't you all toddle off and compare rimless specs and ironic t-shirts rather than sneering at a music simpleton like me, home slices? They sound like "Hootie and the Blowfish" Bill? Really?). Being a fan of foppish dandy pop that's redolent of British gangster films from the 70s myself, I rather liked their eponymous debut. And so I was excited to see their unheralded second effort on the Borders website.

Ugh- track three, if this is possible, is even worse than the first two songs.

Where were we? Oh yes. Shouty choruses, slow motion kick lines, and sub-Marc Bolan guitar rock = good. Shouty choruses, lack of irony, and sub- Gary Glitter guitar rock: ABSOLUTELY HIDEOUS.

I want my money back.

Newsround

OK gangsters, here's your update:

(From RPS): German Journo Calls in Bomb Hoax to Delay Plane
This is why I hate Euro 08: Axis powers, the Central Powers, occupied runt countries, and lily-livered neutrals playing poncy soccerball- all covered by arseheads.

The 41st world custard pie throwing championships has been held in Kent.
You think this is quaint and eccentric: it isn't, it is "whacky" and annoying, like loud waistcoats with evening dress and comedy glasses frames. To whit:

"The national skipping championship and the Kent Welly Throwing Championship also ran alongside the pie event on Sunday".

Bush compliments Sarkozy on wife
Also: he gooses Gordon Brown, asks Angela Merkel if she is a 'goer', and slaps Silvio Burlesconi on his bald patch a la Benny Hill and his little old pal.

Mrs. Sarkosy (really). Bush wonders if he can get Laura to pose with an accordion and her flannel nightie in response.

It Failed The Sniff Test

The film Perfume: Story of a Murderer is possibly the best worst movie I have seen since The Transporter almost made me piss myself with laughter at the local fleapit.


After the first five minutes I remarked to Country Mouse that I was glad that Terry Gilliam hadn't directed it. After the film bizzarely and briefly turned into its own trailer half way through and then became a glitzier version of Manos: Hands of Fate I began to wish he had.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer: yet another strike against Germans who decide to be the writer, director, and score composer on their own getting another project greenlighted ever again.

American Idol

Congratulations to David, the pastry-faced result of gene splicing between Michael Bolton and Bob Seeger. May your ultimate plunge to obscurity at least earn you a dollar or two.

Commiserations to David, the uber-Osmond Michael Jackson bait and future David Guest look-alike with the nice voice and a spot already booked on season 45 of The Surreal Life.

Perhaps now is the time for me to pitch my new reality concept, American Imp Pimp, wherein contestants compete to ponce off midgets in naughty elf costumes.