Obviously Russian authorities haven’t seen Tropic Thunder.
Alleged U.S. Spy in Russia Ryan Fogle
I’m not a sp-sp-sp-spy!
UPDATE: It appears that he was dressed as straw-haired Simple Jack. ContainsEggs.com regrets the error.
I don’t know who this CNN financial pundit is, but I can’t wait to see Bill Hader play him on SNL.
Thank you, thank you, Burger King, for delivering this gem of relentless comedy today. We now amuse ourselves:
Pedestrian:
I understand that you have the right of way when walking through a crosswalk in a parking lot. Safety and general courtesy dictate that I stop and wait for you to safely cross before driving my vehicle ahead.
This reality does not bestow upon you some shopping center royalty status. It does not demand or even reasonably suggest that you assume a posture of indignant superiority. We, car drivers, counted you among our ranks just moments before. It’s preposterous for you to glare at us in smug, wordless defiance, daring us to violate the Universal Law of Pedestrian Preeminence and enter the crosswalk as you pass.
Just walk across the damned road. Maybe even pick it up a step while courteous drivers wait for you.
Most importantly, heed the lesson of this fascinating digital animation of Bill Clinton in a dress being mowed down by an Audi at a crosswalk: No matter who is “right,” you will lose an inevitable battle with a car. This cautionary clip, set to a somehow appropriate wocka-chocka Cinemax soft porn soundtrack, vividly illustrates the point. Warning: This clip includes a graphic depiction of the tragically debilitating medical trauma condition known as “firefly head.”
Making its way around Twitter tonight. This is the best video we have ever seen.
This also inspired other Eagles/baby snatching lyrics:
UPDATE: I so wanted to believe. Something never looked quite right, but invested hope and optimism that we could all unite in the majesty of the baby snatching eagle. Alas, my dreams are dashed yet again.
OK, we thought this was funnier a month ago when Newt was still a feasibly viable GOP candidate. But having grown up in Atlanta, we have a special appreciation for Newt’s charms, most notably that his name sounds like a McDonaldland character. We were duly inspired to consider other, more electable names for Newt Gingrich:
Sometimes moderately funny things become impossibly hilarious to me. So is the case with Ab Lincoln, an errant typographical moniker assigned to our 16th president by a colleague in a recent email. The author intended to inspire and energize the corporate troops with a quote from Abe Lincoln, but the clumsy motivational metaphor fell flat, in no small part because he attributed the day’s wisdom to “Ab” Lincoln.
Typos are funny in a way similar to videos of people obliviously stumbling into fountains at the mall while texting. It’s the kind of unintentional, non-malicious, disproportionately embarrassing act that we quietly laugh at when others do it and simmer in frustrated shame when we do it ourselves.
And Abe Lincoln is our most consistently comedic historical figure (although I rally for Rasputin). Saturday Night Live recognized this years ago when Abe Lincoln showed up to call Tom Hanks “an incredible pussy” during the opening monologue. And Conan O’Brien (who likely wrote the Hanks skit back in his SNL days) has long appreciated the comedy versatility of Abe.
So, yes, “Ab” Lincoln made me laugh. It conjured images of Honest Ab, with a glistening washboard torso usually only seen in magazine shoots of Twilight stars and favorable imaginations of a super-lightweight division boxing champion Jesus Christ. And what would a ripped cabin builder and super-motivational orator do? Open Ab Lincoln’s Fitness Emporium, that’s what! Fortunately, I work with a talented designer who helped realize this vision.
As we observed tonight’s three-hour time-release Ambien awards show:
Golden Corral apparently has bought a 2012-GOP-presidential-candidate-sized block of television airtime to advertise its new Chocolate Wonderfall, a provocatively unsanitary bubbling cascade of gooey brown bacteria. The idea: Patrons submerge berries, cookies and other confections on sticks in the flowing chocolate, and then, apparently, consume them. (Fondon’t! Fondon’t!)
The commercials seem to run incessantly now, especially on the cable news channels:
There exists no doubt that this chocolate waterfall will trigger a much more violent chocolate waterfall later. Can you conceive of a more disgusting buffet line concept than this geyser of gastrointestinal distress? A churning wellspring of warm, sticky dessert syrup continuously attracting and recycling torrents of sneeze juice, dust and child germs?
And maybe a half of a second will pass from when a five-year old lays her eyes on this until she sticks her doll’s head into the chocolate sugar lava. Don’t just take our word for it; here’s the top comment on the YouTube post of the first commercial, which made us laugh until we cried when reading it aloud:
“So I went to a golden corral today, and I tried this out. Right as I dipped my marshmallow into it, some little kid reached over the little metal railing and just stuck his whole hand into it…”
And the Golden Corral reply to the comment offers scant solace:
“We strive to provide the best possible customer experience for all of our guest [sic]. However, with something as popular as this it is difficult to catch everything.”
Gaaahh! I just took a shower after reading that. This from a restaurant with a history of serving up the all-you-can-e coli buffet. And don’t forget the salmonella special right here in Georgia a few years back.
You’d think that such a track record would inspire tremendous caution with food safety and public health. Or maybe Golden Corral just realizes that the American buffet-going public has a short collective memory and an unrelenting lust for novelty, chocolate sauce and type-2 diabetes. Bacteria be damned! These patrons in a follow-up commercial certainly seem excited:
I hope that guy’s cowboy hat can catch some barf.
Finally, in an important aside, our good friend Tim O’Shea of Talking With Tim pointed out on Facebook that there is an inevitable advertising tie-in for the band Oasis. What better reason for them to reunite than to promote the Golden Corral Chocolate Wonderfall? After all, both the band and the Chocolate Wonderfall recycle things that were once good (Beatles songs, chocolate) and turn them into horrible abominations that send us running for the toilet. We close with some lyrics from the Oasis hit “Wonderwall,” reworked for Golden Corral:
Today is gonna be a day that you’re probably gonna spew
By now, you surely feel foul
From the chunks you inevitably blew
I can’t conceive how anybody
Eats that chocolate goo that’s trickling down
Yet maybe, after eating steak and gravy
You’ll heed the call, of Chocolate Wonderfall
I must admit, we were kinda bummed to see Henry Winkler recently debut as the celebrity spokesperson for One Reverse Mortgage. First of all, when did the Fonz age into the role of Comforting Familiar Trustworthy Senior? Isn’t that the territory of folksy oat peddler and diligent diabeetus warrior Wilford Brimley? Or the surprisingly inept and possibly inebriated teleprompter reader Tommy Lee Jones? I mean, the fucking Fonz improbably mastered Russian dance, sent bullies scurrying in a whimpering panic by busting doors off their hinges, mixed toughness with wisdom to defuse a violent situation with a karate-crazed Tom Hanks (!), and ended racial segregation.
So forgive us if we can’t help but feel that shilling for reverse mortgages is beneath Winkler’s station, better suited for Hart to Hart actor and marital yacht assassin Robert Wagner. (Insert tasteless Natalie Driftwood joke here.)
We’ve decided to celebrate some of Winkler’s finest work, as lawyer Barry Zuckerkorn on Arrested Development. Here, in one of our favorite scenes of all time, Winkler lampoons overt TV product placements, punctuating the point by jumping the shark for the second time in his career:
And the original, as Fonzie, which launched a passionate cultural fixation on pinpointing the moment good things start to suck:
And finally, one last sublime Zuckerkorn moment. Those are balls:
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