The Bachelorette: Istanbullshit

Hey look everybody, we’re in Istanbul! Ali didn’t realize that 2 million people lived here. Or that Turkey existed! We’re starting off with a bang this week. You know when Ali says “I don’t think anything could go wrong at this point” that SOMETHING IS DEFINITELY GOING WRONG. They should have spliced in the Dramatic Chipmunk right after she said that.



Chris Harrison comes by and says he’s got some bad news. Not everyone is Here for the Right Reasons! Here, talk to this chick “Jessie” on the phone. Jessie lives in Toronto and lounges around in a candlelit house. She has some bad news. The Entertainment Wrestler has a girlfriend! AND SHE’S CALLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE!!! GET OUT, ALI!!! Oh, wait, she’s right here. Her name is Jessica. Don’t they have any other names in Canada? Anyway, Jessica is one of EW’s gfs. He’s got 2! Wow, who knew that Entertainment Wrestling was such a chick magnet? He’s not there to find True Love, but to enhance his entertainment wrestling career. Mission Accomplished, EW! Now you’ll always be known as that Tool Who Went on the Bachelorette!

Anyway, Ali calls a meeting and confronts EW. He promptly gets up and flees. Too bad Kasey’s not there to protect and guard her heart! Oh no, EW’s trapped on the hotel grounds! Quick, go through the fountain! Ali will lose your scent and won’t be able to track you! Then he comes back to offer some lame excuse. Then stalks off again. This time, into the hotel! EW is the Worst Stormer Offer in history! Anyway, good riddance. Back at the Douche Suite, everyone’s mad at EW. Except for Frank, who appears to be thoughtfully considering the situation. FORESHADOWING.

OK, back to business. Solo date with Ty. Nice choices with the silver-tipped cowboy boots and baby-head-sized gold medallion, Ty! Ali correctly identifies the Hagia Sophia. Disappointingly, she doesn’t yell “HAGIA SOPHIA!!!! WHOOOOO!!!” They go get in a 300-year-old hot tub. Ew. Look, Ty’s already got a nasty growth from the 300-year-old bacteria.



Now we’re at a lovely al fresco dinner. Girl, you gotta do something about those roots. ABC’s hair budget must be like a nickel. Ty’s talking about his divorce. It’s exactly as interesting as anyone talking about their divorce, which is to say it’s painfully boring. Oh look, there just happen to be some colorful street musicians here for some completely spontaneous dancing! That happens here in SF too, except the street musicians charge you $5 to look at them.

Now we have a Group Date. When you think Very Very Heterosexual Activities you’d like to do on a date with a Girl, what comes to mind? Oil Wrestling with a Large and Unibrowed Turkish Man? Then you’re gay. Oh, no, wait, you’re on the Bachelorette. Everyone gets good and greased up and gets a good old-fashioned Heterosexual Grappling from some Turks and then from one another. Fivehead wins. He says winning at All-Male Oil Wrestling is “better than winning a big kiss.” I see some holes in your game, Craig. He wins a Solo Dinner with Ali and spends most of the time talking about Oil Wrestling. I was getting a date-rapey vibe from him, but maybe only for guys. Man, is he ugly.

Solo Date with Frank next. He says “We’re in Turkey.” That’s good, Frank! Now, how many fingers am I holding up? Just one. They do some shopping at the Spice Bazaar where they get into all kinds of krazy hijinx and Frank buys a rug. Their life together will be one big slapstick comedy! Now it’s time for dinner in the underground sewer system or something. To get their food, they have to wade through some standing water and God knows what else. This is the oddest place for a date ABC has picked yet. Next week, we’ll set up a table in the janitor’s closet of a box factory!

We are now limping towards the end. In a vain attempt to create some kind of drama out of this week’s episode of the Watching Paint Dry Show, Ali decrees that there will be no cocktail party before the rose ceremony!!! The guys all react like they just found out that Joey Bishop killed Kennedy or that Two and a Half Men has been cancelled. Anyway, Fivehead gets cut. No surprise there. Hopefully the producers gave him a Consolation Oil Wrestling Match.

Next Week: Some brightly-colored European tourist trap. Lisbon, maybe? I don’t know.

Someone made a malmistake! Or a corrupticon!

From the otherwise drab ""FTC Says Scammers Stole Millions, Using Virtual Companies":

The U.S. Federal Trade Commission has disrupted a long-running online scam that allowed offshore fraudsters to steal millions of dollars from U.S. consumers -- often by taking just pennies at a time.

The scam, which had been run for about four years years, according to the FTC, provides a case lesson in how many of the online services used to lubricate business in the 21st century can equally be misused for fraud.

"It was a very patient scam," said Steve Wernikoff, a staff attorney with the FTC who is prosecuting the case. "The people who are behind this are very valmeticulous."

Wait a second. Did you just say "valmeticulous"? What does that mean, like extra meticulous, or like the evil version of meticulous? Like James Bond villains are especially valmeticulous, right?

Oh, wait, never mind. Looks like it's some kind of fuckup and not a real word. That sucks! I wanted to be valmeticulous too.

Here's an action-packed semi-interesting review of my weekend.

No, I didn't feel it. At 7:47 a.m. I was either walking down the steps into the 24th & Mission BART station or was somewhere nearby. Got down to the platform and the guy comes on the intercom and says there's been a quake and trains will be delayed. NOW, what's your first thought? Oh, I might be late to work or Wow, earthquake! or Listen to this jackass calling someone to say there's been an earthquake? Well, my first thought was to look around at my fellow passengers and think Are these the people I want to be trapped with if there's a bigger one coming up? Because if it looks like they're going to be no help, I'm going back up to the street and taking the bus.

ANYWAY. What a weekend! Pavement Friday night. Here's an outstanding review from the delightfully named Ian S. Port. I've been talking about this show pretty much nonstop since Friday night, and now I don't really feel like going on any more about it, but here are three observations:

1. Lots of aging hipsters have adopted the Adam Savage look: big, chunky glasses and unruly hair.

2. Gary Young probably shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a drum kit.

3. It was probably better than I expected.

Saturday was the Dyke March. It's exactly what it sounds like.

Picture may include non-dykes.

Yesterday I went to the Giants-Red Sox game. It was awful. Look, I get that the Sox have incredibly loyal fans and everywhere they go their people show up in force and blah de blah, but there is something uniquely and supremely annoying about being in your own ballpark and having people around you cheering at your team's failures. And believe me, the Giants failed extremely well yesterday.

Hi, Red Sox!

Also, it was about a million fucking degrees out and I drank too much. Betcha didn't see that coming!

Walmart really is the low price leader!

Whether you're looking for some polyester clothing or maybe a meth baby:

A California couple faces child endangerment charges after police say they tried to sell their 6-month-old baby for $25 outside a Walmart store.

Salinas police spokesman, Officer Lalo Villegas, said Thursday that Patrick Fousek, 38, and Samantha Tomasini, 20, were arrested early Wednesday, hours after Fousek allegedly approached two women outside Walmart and asked if they'd like to purchase his child.

What the story doesn't say is that the baby originally cost $39.50!

Too soon?

Happy Friday, everyone! Big weekend! Pavement at the Greek Theater tonight. US-Ghana in World Cup tomorrow. The Big Gay Thing. WHEW! That's a lot of activity.

In other news, is there going to be an earthquake today? Quakeprediction.com thinks so! WTF? I thought you couldn't predict earthquakes reliably. We'll see, I guess!

America

Fuck yeah.

UPDATE: FIFA is a jerk. Here's a link to the video of the goal, which you should watch 8 times in a row like I just did: It's on Huffington Post, for some reason.

The Bachelorette: Iceland Is Cold, and I Don't Feel So Good Myself

Iceland used to be best known for Leif Erikson and Bjork, but these days it’s better-known for volcanism and financial collapse. That makes it perfect for our next stop! I don’t know why; I can’t finish this analogy. I’m still kind of sick. Before we go on, I got a shot of Kasey’s Protect and Guard Your Heart brand tattoo:


Ugh, what a fucking mess. It looks like some cabbage and a bad bruise.

After our oblig establishing shots of Iceland and Ali in a fur hat, it’s time for a challenge: the guys will write love poems to her, and are told to incorporate some Icelandic in them. God, they just find new ways to make this show more painful every week. Next week, maybe we’ll have slam poetry or acoustic Gloria Estefan covers. Anyway, the Entertainment Wrestler tries stopping random Icelanders in the street, which proves unsuccessful, unless the phrase he wants to use is “Get the fuck out of my face.” Ali appears and screams “ICELAAAAAAND!!,” of course. If we ever get somewhere and she doesn’t yell out the name of where we are I’m going to be pissed. The poems are just as miserable and depressing as you might imagine. Frank’s poem is about his ex! I thought chicks didn’t like that!?! Pls. advise ASAP. Kirk wins and gets a solo date.

Off they go traipsing through Reykjavik. Hey, what did ABC do with all the Icelanders? There’s like nobody on the streets. It looks like San Jose. They go clothes shopping. ABC needs to buy Ali some new hair, because they obviously went for the bargain extensions. They buy matching sweaters! That seems about right. Then it’s off to lunch, where Kirk will now tell us about his Secret and Disturbing History.

It seems that some five years ago, Kirk was a Star Athlete (8th best at the 1500, if you must know), when he moved into a Rented House of Horrors. He began developing odd symptoms like he couldn’t lift his arms up and the left side of his body was numb and he bled from the eyes and it sounds like a pretty normal Friday night to me but not even 40 doctors could find out what was wrong! Then a ghostly spirit appeared and told him to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. Not, not really. What really happened was that the house was contaminated. Oh no, that’s an Asbes-don’t! It was full of mold and whatever and with some “alternative medicine” he finally got better. This story is SO BORING. Ali is struggling to stay awake. Ugh, Kirk is so full of mold now he’s like an old loaf of bread you forgot about at the back of the pantry. Oh no, Ali, don’t kiss that! Gross! Now you’ll get the Molds too. That was the least inspiring story of Overcoming Adversity I’ve ever heard.

Hey look, it’s a Group Date! We’re going horseback riding. Or something riding. What are those little things? They’re like dog-sized horses. Good thing Ty knows how to wrangle them! Oh, look, they’re being lowered into a pit in the Earth! I like where this is going! Where are the cement trucks?

Then we’re off to the Blue Lagoon, which is not a pedophilia-themed amusement park but a hot springs. It’s supposed to have healing properties. Maybe it can heal her hair. She makes out with some guys and tells Frank he’s not trying hard enough. I just think he ran out of meth on like Day 3.

Now we have a threesome date with The Entertainment Wrestler and Kasey the Frog Prince. They fly to the volcano that is (WARNING FORESHADOWING) going to fuck up Europe’s travel plans real bad and land and walk around and the EW says this “feels like a wrestling match.” I guess he’s going to pay Kasey $50 to hit him with a folding chair. Time for the big tattoo reveal! Ali says “The only thing Kasey has to do today is be normal.” WHOOPS!!! That’s not really his thing, Ali. He shows her the tattoo. She has the same face you get when someone with a knife is telling you that the CIA is following them. She cuts Kasey! There is some chick in Clovis right now who is going to get the shit protected and guarded out of her. EW and Ali get in the helicopter and leave Kasey on the glacier to die.


Getting close to the end now. Bear with me, but you should know this is more painful for me than it is for you. We have the usual Pre-Rose-Ceremony chats. There’s the Mystery Guy again! Seriously, does he just appear at the end of every episode! Wow, he’s got the personality of an ottoman. She asks him what his guilty pleasure is and he says “Mexican food.” That’s funny, my guilty pleasures are dry cleaning and FM radio!

Now Chris talks to her. Wow, Chris is going all psychiatrist on her! “You’re afraid to fall in love! What are you so afraid of?” Ali looks a little taken aback! I don’t feel so good myself! “Are you afraid they’ll betray you like your father did? Like every man in your life has???!!!?” She’s going to need some Cymbalta! I can tell from the ads. Too bad about the Yellow Eyes and Skin you get from taking it!

Mystery Man gets cut. No surprise there. Next week, Issinbull. At least that’s what Ali keeps calling it. We’ll find out together, I guess.

To the person who found my blog by Googling "Did soccer originate with kicking around the severed heads of prisoners?"

I don't think so.

A semi-satirical imagined Rush Limbaugh rant

"And what about the handicapped? Riding around in those wheelchairs all day? LAZY-CAPPED is more like it. Hey, you big baby, get out of your damn chair and get a job! You don't see the rest of us wheeling around all day in our little motorized scooters! Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you go around and collect shopping carts that the fake homeless leave everywhere? You've already got a little scooter with a motor. Get a whole bunch of them and make a long train of them and motor them over to the grocery store. They'll probably give you a buck a cart or something.

"I am sick of these leeches lazing around a contributing nothing to society. Get out of your stupid wheelchair and work for a living, you loser. Why are my taxes supporting you? Why don't you support yourself for a change?"

"I'm hungry and I need to get married again. We'll be back after this message."

(In case you hadn't heard, this.)

Today in Missed Connections

Need help! Any Stanford Students? - 32 (NYC, NY)

Hi, I am looking for Stanford Univ. students, who can help over 100 thousand people out of the chaos.
What you have to do is just verify a couple information which will be provided thru email.
If you want to be a hero, please reply. Thank you.

Location: NYC, NY
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Are you a Stanford student? Well, why don't you help this guy out? Are you some kind of a douche, or don't you want to help 100 thousand people out of the chaos? Why don't you think about somebody besides yourself for once? C'mon, you can verify a couple information thru email, can't you?

I'm tempted to write this guy. I'm not a Stanford student, but I like helping people out of the chaos. Is it 5 yet? Can I have a beer at my desk? That would be bad, wouldn't it.

Have a nice weekend. Don't eat too much cake.

Today's Power Rankings

Vuvuzela	▼	Is there any way we could add an annoying monotone drone to every televised sporting event?
Vuvuzela Twitter feed	▲	In the future, every phenomenon will have its own satirical Twitter feed
Gavin in Shanghai	▲	Bring me back a #23 and an order of green onion pancake
Vampires	▲♂	There has to be a "Lost Boys" remake in preproduction somewhere, right? I haven't checked, but it's gotta be happening, right?
World Cup officiating		Makes NBA refs look like…I don't know, really good refs or something
Sharron Angle	►☺	Put a little crazy in your Senate
New Bret Easton Ellis novel	▬	In other news, Bret Easton Ellis is still alive and writing novels, apparently
Treaty of Ghent	£▲	Still one of the best treaties
Lakers	▲	Kobe is the MVP. OF RAPING.
Watermelon	▲	The Miracle Food™
Oil spill	◙▼	BP has discovered an extraordinarily efficient way to move stuff that was inside the Earth to outside the Earth
Tagging the Buddha sculpture in Civic Center Plaza	▼	You people are assholes.
Jeremy London kidnapping	♣	Now me! Now me!

Further advances in border security

Via myFoxphoenix.com:

ALBUQUERQUE - A Republican candidate for Congress in New Mexico, Tom Mullins, is taking some heat for a comment made recently in a radio interview.

Mullins suggested that placing landmines with warning signs in various languages along the border would help deter illegal immigrants from passing through.

Quote: "We could put land mines along the border. I know it sounds crazy. We could put up signs in 23 different languages if necessary."

Crazy? It's fucking brilliant! Nothing like a shower of dismembered limbs to scare off potential border-crossers. I'm just assuming that the plan also includes a heads-on-sticks element. Don't want to waste the severed heads!

No, if anything, Mullins' plan, like Mullins himself, is too conservative. I have consulted the crack 40goingon28 research team and we have a few other ideas for Tom Mullins' perusal:

1. Overchlorinated moats

Would-be immigrants try swimming across the moat. They quickly get burning in the eyes and a strong and unpleasant odor of chlorine. Their clothes are ruined by being bleached and lightened. Dejected, they give up and swim back to Mexico.

2. Chain of Ike's along entire border

Immigrants think they'll stop for a tasty sandwich at Ike's. Who doesn't love a delicious sandwich? Then they realize it's going to be like a 2-hour wait. Dejected, they head back to Mexico, where there is little or no wait for an enchilada plate.

Immigrants see line, smack forehead, go "Fuck this," head back to Mexico. [Photo: Flickr/kiwi1824]

3. Mandatory Ikea furniture assembly station

Before entering U.S., potential immigrants must assemble Nordlurg bookcase and Kuürg king-sized bed within 2 hours. Only one Allen wrench is provided. Immigrants quickly discover task is impossible, yell at other members of immigrant family "Just let me see the goddam instructions," and "This isn't piece K! Can you not see this isn't piece K?," become dejected, return to Mexico.

The Bachelorette: Stop it, you're spilling your crazy all over this brand new dress

You think you know what “excruciating” means? Oh, you’ve had a date quote lines from “Austin Powers” or maybe you’ve even seen a Matt LeBlanc film. But, let me assure you, nothing, and I mean nothing, is as excruciating as Kasey-with-a-K singing his frog-voiced a capella ballads of longing and weird to a visibly disturbed Ali.

Let me back up. We have moved the action to NYC for no particular reason and we see Ali getting made over by a man in a purple shirt. Unfortunately, he doesn’t cut out her increasingly ratty-looking extensions. Then we finally get a solo date with Kasey! His voice doesn’t sound as weird! Maybe they’re coaching him or something. Luckily, he gets so fucking weird that the voice is a distant memory. They take a helicopter ride over the city and Ali shouts “New York!” because she has a habit of always shouting out her geographical location. “Whooooo!! SAFEWAY!!!!!” ANYWAY. Then we have a picnic and that’s when he starts singing! Oh no! It’s terrible! Why would you do something like that? His little song goes like this:

I thought alone through life I’d walk
But you’re the one I want to stalk
I’ll be yours truly ‘til the end
I just need your SSN

Protip to my homies out there: Unless you’re Rhett Miller, don’t ever, ever start singing to a girl on a date. Remember when that girl in high school said you have a “great voice?” What she meant was you have a “car.”

Anyway, then we move on to the American Museum of Natural History and, defying all the odds, it gets EVEN WEIRDER. They traipse around and blah blah blah and then have some wine and he says she’s “everything that he’s ever wanted because she makes him happy.” You try saying that to someone you’ve met twice and see what happens. FREAKSHOW. I hope you guys had a drinking game involving the phrase “protect and guard her heart,” because then you might be as drunk as I have to get to watch this. Then he sings again! Oh Jesus. I bet back in Clovis there’s a whole battalion of girls he can’t get within 100 feet of by court order.

Now we have a group date. We’re going to see the Lion King! Fuck, please kill me. Oh wait, we’re auditioning for a part! The Weatherman is thrilled because he’s a Gay Man. He says he’s never sung show tunes before but I bet you a hundred dollars that doesn’t count singing the Original Cast Recording of “Les Miz” in his Kia with the windows rolled up. But Roberto gets the part because he looked at Ali while he sang. Remember that if you ever want to be in a mediocre Broadway show! Anyway, they’re in the show and it’s a good way to fill 20 minutes and who gives a fuck anyway.

It’s still going. She was supposed to have a solo date with Dead Mother but she got “sick” and can’t. She invites him to her suite, though! Maybe he’ll make her feel better. Didn’t work on his Mom! Oh no, too soon? After some chicken soup and thorazine, she feels better and they go to yet another rooftop and see some guy named Joshua Radin playing guitar who requires the services of a multiculti choir in robes to back him up. Whatever.

Meanwhile, the Frog Prince is SLOWLY GOING INSANE. Finally, something interesting on this fucking piece of shit show. He goes and gets a really ugly tattoo with a shield and some bullshit and it has to do with Protecting and Guarding Her Heart and I’m starting to think he stole his catchphrase from Brink’s Home Security or a heartworm medicine for dogs. Anyway, that’s weird! Then there’s some manufactured drama that’s not even worth getting into. There are mutual fund ads more interesting than this.

Time to give out the roses. WAIT, HOLD THE PHONE, WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY?


I thought you had to be on the show to get a rose. What did he, wander in from the “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” set next door? And Fivehead gets one too! Oh, she cut the Weatherman. No surprise there. He gives off the scent of “desperate” like the rest of them give off Axe body spray. Kasey never gets to show her his Brand New Tattoo! Awkward! She also cuts Peculiar, so everyone left now is a total dickbag. You get what you deserve in life.

The World Cup, explained for Americans

Soccer is a game in which a bunch of guys kick a ball around aimlessly for about an hour and a half. Sometimes, but not very often, it goes into a net and then someone takes his shirt off. This is called a "goal" and is to be avoided whenever possible. Soccer games usually end in scores like 1-0 or 2-1, although a 0-0 tie is the best.

Soccer is very popular in socialist countries like France and Japan because you don't win very often and the game is all about passing the ball to someone else - i.e., transferring wealth from those who have it to those who don't. Plus, people fake injuries a lot and fall down, just like they will when Obamacare takes over and everyone gets all kinds of free health care they don't need. Plus, it's boring, and anywhere that's not America is boring.

Every few years, all the countries in the world call home their players from Chelsea and Man U and form national teams. Then they have a big tournament called the World Cup. Predictably enough, it's not straightforward like March Madness. Instead, you can play like 3 games before you get eliminated. Stupid. Oh, and little bullshit countries like Paraguay win all the time. Germany's really good, which figures, since they make BMWs and fascism there. Brazil's really good, too, which also makes sense because Brazil is socialist too and no one has to work and they can spend all day playing soccer instead of working. France cheats. Shocker, I know.

San Francisco is full of foreigners and socialists, so everybody here pretends to like soccer.



See, they'll even stand in front of City Hall and pretend to watch France and something called a "Uruguay" play soccer on a big TV that's far away. They're really thinking about drugs and how much they hate God.

So everybody plays a lot of these games and the US usually doesn't do very well and that's about it. Football season starts in like 2 1/2 months, thank God.

You did good (in at least one respect), California

It now appears that Proposition 16, the "Keep PG&E's Power Monopoly Intact Act," is going to lose. I'm obviously heartened, since Prop. 16 represented a venal, cynical use of the ballot initiative system by a huge corporation to protect its own interests at the expense of the citizenry, but I'm also kinda stunned, since PG&E spent $46 million, largely on those ubiquitous TV ads, and opponents spent, what, a buck-fifty?

It shows that, at least in this instance, California voters (OK, well, 22.5% of California voters) can smell the bullshit and figure out they're being lied to. So good job, 22.5% of California voters!

I'm sure in the coming weeks and months I'll have a lot more to say about the unfortunately-coiffed Meg Whitman and the Legalize It! ballot initiative and the Girls Gone Wild Senate Race, and even about why it is that the best nominee for governor that the Democratic Party can come up with is a guy who has already been governor 30 YEARS AGO. Is the Democratic Party in California really that out of options? But for now, let's just celebrate the fact that the right side won one race without spending any money, against a corporation that had over a billion dollars in profit last year. FUCK YOU, PG&E!!! (Please don't turn off my power.)

You know what California needs? Less Democratic Party, MORE DOMO-CRATIC PARTY!!!!



UPDATE!!!!!

Holy shit, I don't know if Generic just made this himself or found it somewhere or if IT DESCENDED STRAIGHT FROM HEAVEN, but this is My New Favorite Thing in the World:

The Bachelorette: Entertainment Wrestling is my bag

As we collectively trudge through Week 3, a pall has descended on the Douche Barracks, for it seems that one of their number is Not There for the Right Reasons. The Right Reasons are apparently to appear on TV, try to bang a chick you saw on another TV show, and hopefully get married after about 3 dates. The Wrong Reasons are to benefit your “entertainment wrestling” career. More on this later.

Our first Solo Date tonight is with Roberto, an affable insurance salesman from Charleston. They do exactly what I did on my first date with The Wife, which is to walk on a high wire between two buildings in Downtown L.A. Oh no, wait, our first date was shoplifting 3 cans of Sparks and trying hit pigeons with a slingshot. Same idea, though. After their circus act, they have an intimate dinner on top of a skyscraper. Roberto is dressed like a homeless person who found a suit in the dumpster behind Ross. Amazingly, Roberto can speak Spanish! Ali is awestruck at this development. Who on Earth speaks Spanish!?!?? Amazing. He speaks a “little French and Italian,” too! What are you, from Outer Space? Then they make out.

Time for a Group Date! They get the hint it's going to involve some kind of the Rock And Roll Music like the Kids Like. Deaf Voice Kasey is bummed he's not invited because he "would have loved to go and sing and show Ali my voice a little bit." Believe me, Kasey, the only person who wants to see your voice a little bit is a Demon from the Pits of Hell.

They arrive in some Industrial Wasteland part of L.A. and there’s the Barenaked Ladies! I guess they live under an overpass now. This is some kind of product placement aimed at the Barenaked Ladies’ target audience, which is nobody. They play a new song! Wow, it’s terrible. It’s like if you could put the Goo Goo Dolls in a mchine and make them even worse than they are now. The Barenaked Ladies would be well-advised not to quit their jobs at the car wash. Now look! Ali and the guys are shooting a porno! Oh, wait, it’s a “music video.” The production values aren’t as good as porn. When it comes time for the Weatherman’s scene, he cries because he’s scared to kiss a girl. He’s either Gay or should become Gay. I heard they don’t mind crying in Gay.

Now we’re at a Wrap Party for the video, which also takes place on top of a skyscraper in L.A. I guess they rented this roof and want to get all the use out of it they can. Dead Mother and Ali sit down and he finally comes clean about his dead mother. Oh, look, he’s got her signature tattooed on his chest! I need new words for “CREEPY,” because “CREEPY” alone doesn’t really capture how creepy it is. He also keeps her head in a box! It’s all dried up and shriveled. No, not really, but that’s the only thing that could be any creepier. Then everyone gets in the pool and they all watch the godawful music video. Oh, to have a hairdryer right at that second.

Then it’s daylight again and the Entertainment Wrestler, who has a broken foot from Kicking Ass, I guess, is crutching from Douche Barracks down to Ali’s house. That’s cheating! She’s staying in some faux-Architectual Digest flagstone nightmare. They look at his baby pictures and talk about his Broken Home. Nobody who had a normal childhood would ever be on this show is what I gather. Also, isn’t it weird that he’s described as an “entertainment wrestler”? That means “bachelorette party wrestler,” right?

Jesus, it’s still going on. I always forget it’s 2 hours. OK, solo date with Hunter, who looks vaguely simian. They go to Ali’s House and grill preformed hamburger patties. Another broken home! Ali looks alarmed when Hunter talks about his desire to stay home and not work. That’s what the girl’s supposed to do! What’s wrong with these guys? Wait, this is the first time anyone has appeared on this show not clutching some kind of booze. What gives? Maybe Hunter’s an AA. Anyway, there’s clearly no romantic connection here. They’d be good awkward coworkers, though. Hunter makes a frown with his monkey face and he gets sent home.

Now we see the Big Confrontation between all the guys who are clearly here for the Right Reaons and the Entertainment Wrestler, who’s apparently not. Strong words are exchanged. It’s boring as fuck and not worth talking about. Then some losers are kicked off, including the little guy with the bug eyes who I couldn’t believe was there in the first place. She keeps Wrestler Guy and the Weatherman, who almost starts crying again. How long is that Philly Lawyer with the Fivehead going to be around? He’s less attractive then, well, anybody you might find in the world. Stay tuned next week for more boring crap.

Here is a non-exclusive list of things that have been referred to at some point as the "silent killer," according to a Google search I just did

Hypertension
Ovarian cancer
Aspartame
Diabetes
Coal
GastroIntestinal Stasis
MSG
Hepatitis B
Hepatitis C
Unsafe water
Obesity
Whitespace
Too much sitting
Obama's VAT proposal
Carbon monoxide
Nitrogen
Fluoride
Debt
Bullying
Document metadata
Deep vein thrombosis
Celiac disease
Inhalant abuse
Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm
Hybrid vehicles
Network latency
Overwork in Japan
Stress
Stigma
Pneumonia
Kidney disease
Cancer
Tylenol
Marijuana
Inflation
Duct leakage
Suicide
Silence
Electricity
Body dysmorphic disorder

CONCLUSION: Other than a man charging at you screaming and firing a machine gun, everything that could possibly harm you or affect you in any way is a silent killer.

Steve Poizner goes to church

Hey look, everybody! Published liar Steve Poizner, down by 26 points in the Republican gubernatorial primary race, isn't going down without a fight!

Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Poizner pivoted from illegal immigration to social issues today during a campaign stop at the New Harvest Christian Fellowship church in Norwalk.

Wait a minute. Does something seem strange to you?

Poizner doesn't talk much about issues such as gay marriage on the campaign trail but built his short talk around them today. Several people at the giant church said they shared Poizner's professed views opposing gay marriage and abortion rights.

With the church band standing behind him, Poizner started his speech talking about his daughter Rebecca, who graduated from high school over the Memorial Day weekend.

Awww, that's sweet. Don't worry about Rebecca not being able to attend the college of her choice when Dad loses the election. He's a billionaire, so he'll muddle through somehow. But wait, if I'm reading this right, Steve's campaigning in a church! Is that how you read it too?

I don't think you're supposed to do that! What does the IRS say?

Currently, the law prohibits political campaign activity by charities and churches by defining a 501(c)(3) organization as one "which does not participate in, or intervene in (including the publishing or distributing of statements), any political campaign on behalf of (or in opposition to) any candidate for public office."

Sure seems like the New Harvest Christian Fellowship is participating in a political campaign on behalf of a candidate for public office to me. I mean, they gave the guy the church and the congregation, right?

Look, you want to let a professional liar who changes his position on issues whenever it's convenient for the political office he wishes to purchase into your church to talk about gay marriage and studiously avoid talking about his support for the Arizona immigration law since your congregation is mostly Latino, be my guest. You can sacrifice virgins and worship Baal, for all I care. Just pay taxes like everyone else has to.

[** Note that I haven't researched whether the New Harvest Christian Fellowship is a 501(c)(3) tax exempt organization. If they're not, and they pay their taxes like the rest of us, I'm a jackass and I apologize. Carry on with your discussions of Jesus's position on gay marriage.]

My slate of ballot propositions

Film Commission? School Facilities Tax? BOR-ING. Wake me up when these are on the ballot:

PROP 5.2% ABV: Requires that the Giants offer at least one regular-sized beer priced at 5 dollars at AT&T Park. Can be Black Label, PBR, or Red White & Blue, if they still make that. Appropriates funds for a committee to investigate whether Red White & Blue is still being made.

PROP F: Makes it a misdemeanor to remove footwear on Muni or BART, punishable by fines of up to $500 and a requirement that the violator wear penny loafers the rest of the week. Flip-flops restricted to the Marina and Cow Hollow. Those found wearing flip-flops outside of those areas are issued visors and returned to Balboa Cafe.

PROP S: Each resident receives a free shot of their choice on their birthday. If he or she does not drink the shot, he or she must buy shots for everyone else within a 10-foot radius.

PROP W: No whining.

PROP B: All panhandlers must have a skill, such as singing or doing a magic trick. Having a clever sign is not a "skill." If a panhandler chooses to sing, they have to mix up the songs and not sing the same one every time, like those 3 guys in the BART stations who have been singing the exact same song for like 8 years now. No juggling.

PROP E: No small talk on elevators.

PROP E-2: For the LAST FUCKING TIME, it is STAND RIGHT, WALK LEFT on the fucking escalator. First offense results in being thrown down the escalator. Second offense is death. If the offender isn't dead already from being thrown down the escalator the first time. This includes you, grandma, so heads up and look alive. If you're too grizzled to hoof it up to 24th Street, stand on the fucking right side. Seriously people.

PROP F: Every other Friday off.

Stream of consciousness during last night's Mumford and Sons show at Slim's

Man, maybe I'm getting too old for this shit. Why is Slim's always so fucking crowded? There's gotta be like 800 people in here. Oh, look, there's Aaron Axelsen. I've been seeing him at shows since like 1993. He has the exact same haircut he did then. Man, it is crowded in here. At least Miller bottles are four bucks.

Oh, here goes the opening act. They have a lot of people in this band! Who's that guy who looks like Charles Manson and is shaking a tree branch with finger cymbals tied to it? That must be some Australian thing. They sound like Animal Collective with all the juice sucked out. I bet the recordings sound better than the live show. "This guy in front of me is dancing like he's at Bible camp," The Wife says.

OK, they're done. NOW EVERYBODY RUSH THE BAR. Fuck, it is way too crowded in here. Why is this set break so long?

Looks like we're getting ready to start. Wow, the sound is really great! I wish the sound was this good at all the shows I go to. Good idea, playing one of the better-known songs near the beginning. Is it just me, or does the lead singer guy kinda look like Ricky Gervais? Maybe just from back here. Wow, people are really into it! They're singing along and everything! Pot smoke.
This is good! That's a lot of sound for four guys who don't even have a drummer. Oh, here comes the obligatory get-everybody-from-the-opening-act-back-on-stage part. There's the Manson stick shaker! I wonder if he gets extra-hassled at airport security. Now they're gone.

They're going longer than I expected. I guess I'll get another beer. This guy in the bathroom is telling this other guy that he's following Mumford and Sons on tour, that he was in Portland last night and is going to L.A. tomorrow. Wow, I wouldn't do that if it was my own band. That's some serious dedication.

Big finish! OK, encore. Very nice. Wow, it's almost midnight. Glad The Wife drove to the show.

Someone has to walk the dog when we get home.

[UPDATE: yuppie rag 7x7 was there last night too. Maybe that explains why the audience was whiter than a Tea Party rally.]

The Guatemala Sinkhole: A Critical Inquiry

Lo, what the Lord hath wrought:

Look, everybody! It's the Guatemala Sinkhole! FREAKY. So freaky, indeed, that soon after the above image appeared, Sinkhole Haters started hating. "Looks 'shopped," they said! What, you've never seen a perfectly round hole that shoots straight down to the Gates of Hell?

Well, guess what? It's real and it's spectacular. The Winnipeg Free Press told me so! Canada is all up in Guatemala's bidness. They have other pixx, too!

Still skeptical? New images have emerged, courtesy of Andrew:

If that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will.

The Bachelorette: You don't need a weatherman to know which way the douche blows

God, these people are loathsome. Why am I watching this? Oh, right, because it's on TV. Last night I tried watching it without drinking, which is basically like having an appendectomy without anesthesia. I guess that's how they used to do it but no thanks.

Speaking of loathsome people, meet Craig McKinnon. He's a volatile psychopath. Like, more than normal.


Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with this guy? He spent basically the whole show bullying the little weatherman guy (who has a "brown belt," he says, and I think he means in the martial arts sense). I don't know what they do in Canada, where this douchelord is from, but this kind of thing stops here around 7th grade. I'm surprised he didn't give the guy a swirly.

You know what? They should insert a criminally insane sociopath into every reality show. Can you imagine, like, John Wayne Gacy on the Real World? The kids would be all like, "John, have you seen Jayson lately? He hasn't been showing up for our volunteer work at the dolphin hospital." And John Wayne Gacy would be all, "Oh, I think he went to live on a farm in the country too, just like Brad and Taylor did." ANYWAY. Evil Craig McKinnon's gone before he has the chance to kill again, so good riddance.

So what else happened this week? OK, first we have a solo date with Frank. Frank obviously has suffered a closed-head injury and should be wearing a helmet like Natalie Portman in "Garden State" because he has the emotional response of a 5-year-old. When Frank finds out they're going for a ride in the car, he goes "WHOOOOOOO!!!! WHOOOOOOOO!!!!" You have to spell out "P-A-R-K" around Frank so he doesn't have a seizure. Frank also obviously have a keen fear of overdressing, so he cannily avoided that evil by wearing what appears to be a souvenir t-shirt that he purchased for $6.99 at T's N Things in Bar Harbor. Oh no, the car breaks down! That's OK. Frank jumps out and goes "WHOOOO!!!! CAR BROKE DOWN YAY!!!!" They go to the Hollywood sign and get some heroin and bliss out or something, I don't know. Then they make out.

Next we have a Group Date with 11 douchebags and the Weatherman. They all go the beach at Malibu. We know it's Malibu because Ali goes "WOOOO!!!! MALIBUUUUU!!!" Maybe whatever Frank has is contagious. Then all the douchebags put on bathing suits and they pose for a Sex Offender Calendar that will be distributed to anyone within 2500 feet of wherever they live. Later, over tiny glasses of iced tea at some place called "h. wood ," KASEY SPEAKS AGAIN. He sounds like Fozzie Bear tonight! WACKA WACKA.

This thing is 2 fucking hours long every week? FUCK. OK, another solo date, this time with Jesse, who's from Peculiar, MO, which is a real place and not an ABC miniseries. Hey, let's all move to Peculiar! We'll buy this 4-bedroom house on 5 acres for $150,000 and start our own Utopia/Rave Cult. If everyone in Peculiar is as SMRT as Jesse, we'll be able to buy the whole town with some shiny beads. ABC flies Ali and Jesse to Vegas in a private plane, where he has an oyster for the first time. It's a good thing they don't let Jesse gamble or he'd lose all his money playing War.

Time to give out the roses. Blah blah blah WHOA WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?



Seriously, was there a lawnmower accident or something they didn't show? Jesus Christ, maybe everybody needs helmets. Whoever the fuck this Human Punching Bag is, he didn't make it. Just as well. Broseph needs immediate medical attention, not a Fantasy Date.