The Peace Frog

2008-11-29T21:37:00.000-08:00

"I'm going to strangle you in your sleep."

EXCLUSIVE: Arcade Fire Remix!

2007-11-12T21:21:00.000-08:00

Count on us to deliver the big exclusives, huh? We seem to have it in tight with these up and coming indie groups. First it was our incredible Modest Mouse exclusive, "The Grey Bus Blue Over" and now we got an exclusive remix of "No Cars Go" from Montreal's own The Arcade Fire. A re-imagining of the popular track from their latest, "Neon Bible" (which, I'm told by my friends who wear checkered socks and Converse, is an excellent album), "No Cars Go: The 5-Minute Punishment Remix for Hipster Dipshits" is "a way for us to give something back to our supposed fans" says Arcade Fire frontman Win Butler. "We really hate all of them, so we figure this would be a good way to hurt them." added Win's wife and co-band leader Régine Chassagne, who inexplicably has a different last name (probably some Canadian bullshit).

They also announced that their next album, Storm Watch, slated for a Summer 2008 release, will be "a step back, musically". "There will be a lot of tracks designed around our live shows that will provide Win with plenty of opportunities to look unhappily at the audience." says Régine. "Some of the songs were recorded with no instruments at all, just Win in a recording booth, moping towards the mic." Win then looked at his wife and mouthed the words "Fuck you."

We're all very excited.

Listen to "No Cars Go: 5-Minute Punishment Remix for Hipster Dipshits" here!

Chucklebox

2007-10-22T23:51:00.001-07:00

"He eats our dead."

The Sundae Laff Factory!

2007-10-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

*And the date ended just like that. A kiss on the cheek and a faint glimmer of hope that maybe, this one would call. I wanted to invite him in, but how could I, how dare I be so forward? What would he think? Is there a way to be a modern forward-thinking woman fully in charge of her own sexuality and libido without being taken advantage by a male? Are women truly doomed to be the subservient gender? Anyway, I was still on my period, so intercourse would have been impossible.

**Don't you see that by denying yourself your basic animalistic sexual urges you are in fact reinforcing stereotypes and misconceptions that were inflicted on our mothers' mothers' mothers? If you are truly going to take charge of yourself and your sexuality, why reduce everything to a black and white, right and wrong, yes and no, intercourse or nothing? Surely there are all other elements of foreplay at your disposal that you could have engaged in? Even if he attempted vaginal stimulation a simple "I'm on my period" would explain all and eliminate the pointless worrying.

***Mention menstruation to a man? Now who's the one being silly? You can never ever mention menstruation to a male who you aren't completely comfortable with. It frightens them. They don't understand it, they don't like it, it disturbs them on a primal level. The blood, it stirs within them a repulsion and a jealousy, yes I said it, a jealousy. Inside every man there is a deep stirring hatred of all things female because of our position of power in the reproductive relationship. We do all the choosing and we create the life inside us, and it drives men mad. To mention your period to a man who doesn't yet respect you as a human being (instead only regarding you as a warm tight pair of vaginal lips to 'fuck') is to cause a total repulsion, to the id, the ego and the super-ego. Better to avoid the concept all together.

****Can't live with 'em, and can't live without 'em!

Politics as Usual

2007-06-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

Remember when Bill Clinton played the Sax on the Arsenio Hall show? Remember when Al Gore made a movie about how great he was (it was the one with the subtle global warming subtext)? Remember when the decapitated head of John Kerry starred in Re-Animator?

Yes, the political world is not unfamiliar with loud and unorthodox tactics to get the voter's attention, particularly the youngsters who are usually too busy getting baked and watching Aqua Teen to get off their couches and register to vote, let alone vote. But this recent campaign speech given by one Dr. Joseph Theodore Piles takes the cake in my opinion. It's actually pretty off the hook. Almost reminds me of a low-rent RZA.

It's not my place to make fun, though. When I was campaigning for Student Council president, I made a Techno Dance Remix of the sound of my own laughter. They burned my image in an effigy. I pulled the fire alarm, we had a fire drill, my teachers said "shh, or the fire will here you" but it was too late, the fire heard us because we weren't sneaky enough and it consumed us all.

4th Grade. What times we had, hmmm?

I know, it's been a while

2007-06-11T20:53:00.000-07:00

Both me and Staind would like to apologize for that. But I've been busy. For example...

Well, let's see. Um. Today I got a haircut. Buzz, #2. No sideburns.

Then I drove around the nearby town of Bolingbrook, seeing if I could find a new place to eat. I stopped at this Burrito place. And I had a burrito. One of them big burritos.

Fuck you, I've been busy.

I've been busy watching television. TCM is currently having a mini-marathon of women in prison movies. It's no Black Mama, White Mama but Caged is pretty arousing. Is it sexist to get turned on by contained women? Women in prison, women being suppressed, women being abused, mentally and physically? Is my hard-on hateful just because it comes from women being slapped around, put in their place like they deserve? Right now on Caged, an old woman just stabbed the warden to death with a dinner knife. Kinda poor thinking on the prisons part, to give them real knives. Women can be deadly with knives too. I'm all equal rights when it comes to knife wielding. Because even if you have breasts, if you also have a knife, I'm probably scared of you. At thanksgiving dinner the carving of the turkey was always accompanied by my panicked screams, shortening of breath, passing out, woo-woo the ambulance went, and the family had to wait until they knew I was alright before they could dig into their sweet potatoes.

Such is Life.

Speaking of life, this old woman in this movie got life for robbing a...Dugie station? What the fuck is a dugie station? I think I heard the dialog wrong. I wish I had Tivo, I could go back and figure out what this old cunt robbed.

If I was the invisible man, I'd go back in time and live in a woman's institution like this. And just watch these blondes. Jesus fuck, was there only one hair color in 1950? These big titted blondes, something about black and white* makes them so much hotter. I wish Scarlett Johanson was in black and white. Then I'd be even more aroused. I certainly would have a difficult time keeping this laptop on my lap.

And now this gay man on Turner Classic Movies is explaining how in the olden times of Sepia you couldn't show people as pregnant. That's a shame because pregnant women are beautitful. That's not a typo**.

*Best black and white Prison movie is still Black Mama, White Mama.
**Neither is my blood.

I think I know why I stopped doing this. I can't focus on bad jokes. There are oppressed and mistreated women (now in a corrective school!) to be ogled. Be back later. Much much later.

Hello, Multitudes of Readers

2006-11-14T14:03:00.000-08:00

Waz here. I've got no Blue Sunday to offer today. As I'm sure you've noticed in your multiple daily checking of the Peace Frog... it's been pretty dead around here lately. It happens. So I figure I'll take a bit of a break as well... fear not, for Blue Sunday (and, hopefully, all the other Peace Frog segments) will be back some lucky day. And, of course, Calliope will continue to be updated every Monday and Thursday.

In the meantime, here's a little segment I like to call Doly Dollywood! (Each one is a YouTube link... the third one is especially bizarre.)

Blue Sunday 19

2006-11-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Blue Sunday 18

2006-11-08T12:13:00.000-08:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Blue Sunday 17

2006-11-05T14:04:00.000-08:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Holy Hollywood! Paparazzi

2006-11-03T11:43:00.000-08:00

Henry David Thoreau said that "most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Now, I don't know what that means, exactly. Heck, unless Ashlee Simpson said it or JK Rowling wrote it, I don't care! What I do know is that if most men lead lives of something something, then the other men lead lives of pure annoyance!

Did you know where the term paparazzi comes from? I do. Sort of. It's from Italy, or something, from a movie before the 1990s. It doesn't matter. Anything made before 1995 is just mush to me. Paparazzi might as well be mush to me, too. Or at least, I'd like to mush them. With my thumb.

Wow, that came off way more sexual than I ever intended. I think. I don't know what the lines are for sexual innuendo anymore. What I do know is that the paparazzi have GOT to GO.

Never you mind that without the paparazzi, I wouldn't have my precious Us Weekly or People magazine. We're second to celebrities, as if that wasn't clear enough as it is. What celebrities want, celebrities get. I think I can speak for all celebrities when I say, "paparazzi! Enough is enough! Go back to Italy! Go to China! Go to Africa! Then go back to Italy!"

Maybe that worldwide trip to three different continents will give them enough perspective and build enough character to infuse them back into the American public. It might also spread disease all around the world. All I know is that I can't wait to see what crotches they photograph in the middle of the Congo (what?). The point is, the world (Hollywood) would be a better place if they were paparazzi-less.

Oh, what's that? You don't agree with me? You think that celebrities should have to put up with this crap? Listen lady (or man-lady), I don't come to where you write shit and pull the dildo out of your ass, so watch what you say to a professional (me). And you know what? I'm gonna take what you said at the top of this particular paragraph, and I'm going to go ahead and disprove you. Not only that, but because I already know I'm right, I'm going to do this as condescending as I can.

Listen fool, celebrities do not have to put up with paparazzi because (A) they work hard. When was the last time you worked hard? Clipping your toenails doesn't count, but that is really hard. Still thinking? I bet, and I also bet you haven't come up with anything. Here's the real truth about life and you can shove this in Henry David Thoreau's face: most men don't do anything. And woman do less!

Since that's true, maybe we all ought to get off our camels here in this Desert of Judgment and listen to what these celebrities got to say. Do you think they all arrived in Hollywood already perfect? Well, some did (Lindsay Lohan), but others worked hard to get to where they are.

I've found in my extensive research that working hard is the compilation of athleticism, communication, and kissing (ass). What equation does that make? WH=ACK or "WHACK" for short.

Most celebrities are firm students of WHACK. In fact, most of you know about WHACK. Ever see some "cool" skateboarder do a real, cool skateboarding move? Maybe, and if you did, someone inevitably said, "that's WHACK!" I bet you had no idea how right he was.

But skateboarding is neither here nor there. What is here and very in is WHACK. Live it, learn it, love it, and maybe you will one day be a celebrity!

Since they work so hard and you...you don't, it should be fairly obvious now why paparazzi are a bad idea. No? You still don't agree with me? What a FOOL you are. As if working hard wasn't enough, there's always more reasons why celebrities don't deserve to have paparazzi. (B) They might be terrorists.

Does anyone check these guys for bombs at big red carpet events? Maybe, and I'm not prone to find out. So I'm gonna say no. What sort of security are we running here? Julia Roberts could be mingling down the carpet, her two children holding her hand on either side, taking their first steps in public, when a crazed paparazzi jumps to the front of the velvet rope and KABLOOIE.

If there's one thing true about terrorists, it's that they hate America. If there's another thing true, it's that they LOVE celebrities! Terrorists can't get enough of movie stars. Have you ever been to a terrorism headquarters? It's nothing but pictures of Jared Leto, Reece Witherspoon, and Johnny Depp. Now, unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), terrorists aren't the smartest people in the world. Sometimes they get people mixed up. For example, the World Trade Center isn't an airport, silly! Put on some glasses! Jeez, someone needed a few more lessons...

As you can see, terrorists aren't always the sharpest knives in the metaphorical drawer. Or is it shed? Maybe it's a drawer in the shed. Oh, who am I kidding? A terrorist wouldn't know what to do with a knife anyway. He'd be like, "El knife? What this?" And then he'd put it in an electrical socket while the rest of the world watched and laughed and returned to the punch bowl.

But, as funny as terrorists are with their fumbling and bumbling, sometimes they fumble and bumble into trumble...I mean, trouble. But maybe, from now on, fumbling trouble can just me "trumble."

The most trumbling event I can foresee happening is, say, the Oscars - the State of the Union of Hollywood. Someone like Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones are making nice with the reporters when a terrorist/reporter butts in a little too close, forgets he's still wired with a belt of explosives and blows everyone up. Silly terrorist! Why can't you remember to leave that stuff at home?

Really now, how can terrorists be so stupid? Why, wherever Terrorism City is, I'd hate to go to the airport. It's just be plane after plane after plane crashing onto the pavement. Why did they even build an airport? Surely, someone must have realized this would only end in explosions.

The final reason why paparazzi have GOT to GO is (C) they're not cool. What makes Hollywood so wonderful and dreadfully unattainable is this illusionary wall blocking us from being there unless we're cool enough. Every time some paparazzi member gets in there, it immediately takes away credibility.

Let's say there's a bowl of ice cream. Something really exquisite with all kinds of toppings and little things in there for flavor. It's a mish-mash of heaven. Certainly, you wouldn't include meat (like you) in the ice cream, would you? No, meat has no place in a bowl of ice cream. And certainly flies (paparazzi) don't belong in ice cream, do they? Hell no! That ruins the ice cream! The ice cream must stay pure.

Such is the Hollywood. Paparazzi? Go away! I read the other day in Us Weekly that Angelina Jolie hates paparazzi. If Us Weekly said it, then that means I believe it doubly. Get out of America, paparazzi. We're annoying as it is on our own, thank you very much.

Blue Sunday 16

2006-11-01T08:51:00.000-08:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Blue Sunday 15

2006-10-29T09:22:00.000-08:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Holy Hollywood! Nicole Richie

2006-10-27T18:28:00.000-07:00

Picture this.

A little orphan, naive and confused with the world, grows depressed and pathetic through those important, early years. Then, things start to look up when a rich, giving man adopts her and shows her a life she never thought possible! Her outlook on life changes, she learns piano, and she matures into a young, bright woman.

However, you can take the orphan out of the diseased streets, but you can't take the disease out of the orphan. At the age of 25, she begins to shrink and shrivel up, losing weight at a dangerous rate, and there's nothing she can do. She talks to doctors, she eats all the food she can find, but it's hopeless. Just hopeless.

It doesn't help that her rich foster father unfairly plants her in the limelight, leaving her open to jeers and insults. Even with her disease, they continue to make fun of her! What a sick, sick people these are...and this is as far as this story goes.

Now, here's a question. Were you aware the above story is based on true events? Before you go and fiercely shake your head, in horror that people can be so cruel and the world so unfair, calm down and take a breath. It's true. This really happened. This all happened to Nicole Richie.

Better known as the best friend to Paris Hilton, Ms. Richie has been the butt of every skinny joke for this past year. Look up any tabloid website or "real news" website for that matter, and you'll be digitally surrounded by Nicole Richie jabs.

"LOOKS LIKE NICOLE NEEDS A VISIT FROM THE SAMMICH FAIRY LOLOL!!"

"NICOLE RICHIE LOOKS LIKE A CORPSE ROFFLE ROFL!!!"

"I HATE NICOLE RICHIE CUZ SHES BLEMIC HA HA HA HA W00T!"

Yes, all of these and more await you on the world wide web. We live in a world where not only is it accepted that people will make fun of those malnourished, it is encouraged! What sort of sick logic is this? I can tell you it's one that I will not register to.

Take a gander at this photo:

Put on a couple pounds there, skinny! Ribcages are SO 1998! Somebody better call this guy up and tell him he won't need a Halloween costume. He can go as himself! "Look at me! I'm a skeleton! BOO!" Seriously, I've heard of people who amount to nothing, but this is ridiculous!

Boy, wasn't that cruel? You bet it was, and now I have your attention! Now, obviously, something like that is NOT accepted in our culture. Why, then, when a woman is in peril with a problem she can't fix, we resort to making fun of her?

After bringing us hours of entertainment in things like The Simple Life, all we can do to repay her is criticize her weight problems online? I don't think so. Step off the weight issue.

"Who the hell cares what this no-talent, dumb as a doorknob, ignorant, ugly, bag of bones does...eats...drinks...or sleeps with????" - kickservebt

Wow, that's a lot of insults there, son. One at a time, huh? Let's play nice. But okay, I'll take you on.

"No-Talent!" Wrong. Nicole Richie is apparently charismatic enough to be a personality on a successful television program, for more than one season. Hmm, I wonder if kickservebt has done that. Answer: NOPE. Also, Nicole Richie has a music album on its way in the next few months, being taught all her life by none other than Lionel Richie. No talent? Well, I haven't heard the music yet, but I'd go to say she's more talented than you.

"Dumb as a Doorknob!" What are you basing this on? Do you have her ACT scores? Her University of Arizona transcripts? You do realize she's studied multiple musical instruments, correct? I have a feeling kickservebt hasn't done any research, here.

"Ignorant!" What? How? When did she display ignorance? Ironically, it sounds like kickservebt may be ignorant, him/herself, on just what Nicole would be ignorant about. She might be ignorant (though I doubt it, because she's awesome), but there's certainly no public evidence to support that.

"Ugly!" This is always one of the last excuses someone comes up and it makes me laugh, everytime. Ugly? Says who, kickservebt? Are you Miss America? And when was this a good reason to stop caring about someone? That kid from Sudan in the picture above may not be a spring chicken, but he deserves a little bit of our attention, don't you think? No? Okay. Yeah, I guess he is too ugly.

"Bag of bones!" And we return to this. I don't understand. However, I guess, millions of haters can't be wrong (correction: yes, they can).

So Nicole's gonna keep on doing what she does, and she's going to keep fighting whatever ailment stops her from putting on weight, and people are going to keep on bugging her. That's life, I suppose. For every wonderful person, there are one million sick and perverted ones. Thank God they're not in Hollywood.

Tube-erculosis: XVI

2006-10-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

The Peace Frog has many correspondants, four in total. The four horsemen if you will. Anyway, as you know, one of our best, Trent! Johnson?, does a weekly publish called "Holy Hollywood". Now, hes got that down to a science, but what about on the other side of the world, where things still matter, but not nearly as much?

That would of course be Bollywood, a thing currently sweeping the nation, or at least said nations nerdlings. So this week, Tube-erculosis is going to be doing an episode, cleverly entitled I might add, Boly Bollywood! (I'm not sure its copyright infringement if we work for the same publication, but it probably is)

Bollywood... where to begin? Bollywood itself might be a good start, but thats too obvious... they'll all see that coming...

Well thats all I got. So deal with it.

Anyway, this clip is a nice little ditty: A Bollywood version of Michael Jackson's "Thriller". I wonder if he calls little Michael Jackson "Thriller"... You should probably watch the real one first, in all its 14 minute glory, as you'll be able to enjoy the Bollywood version that much more. That, and the fact that the Thriller music video kicks major ass... and sergeant bilko... that one was pretty good, right?

This next one is just some pure Bollywood music right herr, complete with a cheesy video and crammed with jibberish. I think it would have been better if they had resolved their problems like Michael Jackson's "Beat It"; getting their hands tied together and having a knife fight with their respective crews rallying behind them. Yeah... much much better... and they don't even have to solve their problems through the magic of dance, blood can/should be shed.

Finally today, I get to use a clip that I've been wanting to use for about a month and a half, maybe longer. This little guy has got the moves; he really knows how to roll. Little Superstar he is, and Michael Jackson can't help him here, because he's got it going on.

There we have it, the Bollywood edition that I've wanted to do for a long long time. Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did, which really wasn't that much at all...

Ok, bye.

Blue Sunday 14

2006-10-25T08:10:00.000-07:00

Blue Sunday Archive

Blue Sunday 13

2006-10-22T09:29:00.000-07:00

Holy Hollywood! Religiosity

2006-10-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, Los Angeles. The City of Angels! Is there any more fitting a name for one of the most idea-rich valleys in the world? I grouped up the bushy-brains to try and come up with a better name for that town at the end of America. They deliberated for months, and much like U2, still hadn't found what they were looking for.

That's when I had to take command of the room. I threw a plant on the floor, calling order to my board of directors and said enough was enough and it's time for a change. I asked what they had come up with. One said, "Los Angeles 2?" and that's when I fired him, kicking him out the door.

Though I mentally bookmarked that into my mental spectrum. Los Angeles 2, I thought to myself, that is going to be an AWESOME movie!

Regardless, it was up to me to come up with a better name, and I wasn't going to sleep until I did! So I sat and I sat and I sat. Hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became months, but luckily, I had thought of the name just seconds upon sitting down.

"Los Angeles!" I decreed, "will now be known as Los Angeles 2!" And so it was written, so it was done. I made sure to patent that shit right away, though. Mark my words. We're shooting for a Summer 08 release for Los Angeles 2. It's sort of an ensemble sci-fi romantic thriller.

Over at the REAL Los Angeles 2, however, is a certain level of philosophical rebirth. Where once it didn't matter what celebrities believed in (see: Los Angeles 1.0, aka BORING Los Angeles), now it's essential. And for good reason. When I die, am I going to see Tom Hanks in the afterlife? Or will he be rotting in Hell?

As much as I enjoy a good rotting, it's going to be a bit disturbing to stand above Tom Hanks, crying for my help, while I play my Harp of Morals. I'd atleast like to anticipate this stuff, you know?

And so Religiosity becomes part of each and every one of us. Now I'm not going to lie to you. I haven't bothered looking up anything about religions, and anything I knew, I blatantly forgot or erased from my memory. It wouldn't be fair to bring that sort of "knowledge" to the table. I'm basing all of my presuppositions on cold, hard facts. And by "cold, hard," I mean "maybe true."

Christianity is an interesting one, because science tells us that in Los Angeles 2, nobody actually believes in it! Some say they do, but it's really a front for some other cult. Example: Mel Gibson? Not a Christian. More like an Anti-Jew. And there's nothing wrong with that. We'll get into Mel Gibson on a later date.

But as for Jews, you should know they run Los Angeles 2. Man, I hate Jews. Did you know they started every single war? They also force genital mutilation on their women, eat money, and every Easter, little to your knowledge, they recreate the death of Jesus. Usually, one of the little kids plays the alleged Son; they poke him and prod him and the aunts and uncles laugh and laugh until they cry in Easter joy. Happy Easter, indeed.

Jews don't get as much flack as Christians, and I don't know why. It's essentially the same religion, cutting out a couple books. But, in Hollywood, the truth is no one practices Judaism, either! It's all a front for something else Jew-like, like greed.

Scientology seems like an easy target for a lot of people. Not only am I offended people make fun of this fine ideology, but they have the entire wrong idea about it. I plan on going really in depth on Scientology all by itself on a later date, but for now, let me just say this: can anything with aliens be bad?

Kabbalah started off as a really stupid, boring cult offspring of Judaism. Then, Madonna, our very own Queen Midas, came by and turned Kabbalah into the coolest thing since Jesus died for...some reason (man, I bet he's regretting that one now. 33? He didn't even get to experience the joy of middle age. What a waste).

What I'm getting at is that Madonna is given flack about the Kabbalah thing but that's the wrong way to look at it. Madonna, an entertainer and a creative talent searching for the next big thing, found it and struck gold! Madonna could've chosen anything. She could've decided self-mutilation, like crunching your knee caps into brick walls, was the new big thing. Maybe it would've flown, maybe it wouldn't. But she didn't choose that. She took an even bigger risk: something to do with Kabbalah. It paid off, because she's still famous, and you're not.

Buddhism is the belief that we suck and therefore we should meditate. With the amount of selfless, humble, morally-conscious people in Los Angeles 2, it's no wonder this is such a hit! I believe it was during the production of a Richard Gere movie, It's Always Fall in November or something like that. Winona Ryder's character was dying of cancer and Gere didn't know how to react to that news in his performance.

He searched his soul, coming up empty. Then he remembered the Old Buddhist Monks. What did they do when they got bad news? Light themselves on fire, of course. The next time you watch It's Always Fall in November, keep a look out for Gere's performance. He decided his motivation for staying in love with Ryder was that he secretly wanted to light her on fire, the hospital bed, and the entire institution. Buddhism at work! And you thought Muslims were peaceful...

The last major group here in LA2 are the Atheists. Not a lot to say about them, because they don't believe in anything (or as they would say, they believe in one thing: nothing). In my ideal Los Angeles 2, Atheists will have no place. You know why? Well, let's review the above groups. What do they all have in common?

They don't give a shit about what anyone thinks. What about Atheists? They all think they're victimized! "Oooh, poor me! Nobody sees my way! The Christians are out to get me! I'm a criminal because I don't believe in their pagan god!" Shut up, stupid. Hollywood has no place for whiners. We need ambitious, cocky, driven go-getters who won't complain if somebody says what they believe in sucks. We need Tom Cruise to believe in an alien and not care if you agree. We need people to tell us they're reborn Christians and believe in what they do whole-heartedly.

Who cares if they're wrong about what awaits us in the afterlife? Don't worry about it so much. Hollywood is about making movies and spreading SCANDAL. Hollywood is about sensationalism and soap-operatic drama. Hollywood is about people who fight their way to the top and say what they believe, regardless of the consequences. That's Hollywood for ya, pal. That's Los Angeles 2. Coming to a theater near you, Summer, 2008.

Blue Sunday 12

2006-10-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

I would like to take this oppotunity to point out to you Calliope comics' brand new domain, www.calliopecomics.com. If you haven't checked out Calliope yet.... what are you, stupid? C'mon. And, if you haven't noticed, each Blue Sunday comic is a link to Blue Sunday's archive page. So far it sucks, but I'm hoping to make it better fairly soon.

Tube-erculosis: XV

2006-10-16T15:33:00.000-07:00

Ahhh the day we've all been waiting for. Our beloved tournament champion will be adorned with a crown of flowers and a place in my logo forever and the immortality that comes with it, and to the loser, death... by slitting.

Now we could take a look back at what all happened, but I've decided not to do that.
Oh what the hell...

1st Round

1st Evolution of Dance vs 16th All Your Base
2nd Canon Guitar vs 15th Star Wars Gangsta Rap
3rd OK go Tredmill vs 14th Yatta
4th Hooked on a Feeling vs 13th Shining
5th Robot Dance vs 12th Numa Numa
6th Brokeback to the Future vs 11th Star Wars Kid
7th Juggernaut vs 10th Urban Ninja
8th N64 Kid vs 9th Christmas Lights

2nd Round

16th All Your Base vs 2nd Canon Guitar
3rd OK go vs 13th Shining
5th Robot Dance vs 11th Star Wars Kid
10th Urban Ninja vs 9th Christmas Lights

3rd Round

16th All Your Base vs 3rd OK go
5th Robot Dance vs 9th Christmas Lights

4th Round - Top Two? of YouTube - FINISH HIM!

The Top Two? of You Tube is sponsored in part by: More Beer! One more won't kill you! Hell, have five more, and tell 'em its on Bucky.

16th All Your Base vs 9th Christmas Lights

Lets first take a good look at both of these, and what's up for grabs. 1st Prize: A place in my banner, and the immortality that goes along with it. 2nd Prize: SHAME!

All Your Base - This is pretty much the oldest fad I know of. There were probably many that preceded it, but with its longevity its managed to stay up there. Homestar Runner faded away after a long while. Peanut Butter and Jelly Time faded away as well. But All Your Base, and the parodies that surround it, has managed to stay golden. I remember, as we all probably do, the immortal "all your base are belong to Dano". It was ripe for parody, and has weathered better than it all.

Christmas Lights - This video is still fairly young, rearing its beautiful cherub head around Christmas Time of '05. We saw it then, and we think about it now. The effort of both the physical and technological sides must have involved a good deal of work, but then again, what internet fads don't. Surely I hope he won that neighborhood contest and the $50 dollar gift certificate to the Home Depot. He sure deserved it anyway.

Judgement: At this time, I think that the Christmas Light still too young to have weathered as fully as they will. Leave them up for a few more years I say. I bet that guy is just sitting in a lawn chair now, bath robe, Grizzly Adams beard, surrounded by empty brusky cans, just yelling about the lights, while the display is on 24/7. That, or hopefully he's doing it again this year with a new song, one that will rock even harder. But All Your Base, I had a feeling you'd win all along. The absurdity of the video game, coupled with the fun that is the video and the shitstorm that surrounded it, I think you are worthy of the spot in my banner. Amazing longevity; I bet nerds still watch it to this day, and if not, they look back every once in a while and think of what was. In the end, both were amazing, but All Your Base has a much higher fad value.

Now what this has all been leading up to: my new banner. Anxious much? You are. Admit it. You're anxious. I'm flattered really. Wow.... anxious... I just don't know what to... okay okay anyway. Lets turn this mutha out.

But first, lets cut the ribbon.

2006-10-15T12:02:00.000-07:00

Day 12
Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday (1993)
Dir: Adam Marcus (Snow Days)

The Plot:
After a specially designed FBI task force dispatches Jason in a glorious barrage of bullets, his soul travels from person to person, so he can kill again.

In a Nutshell:
The Friday the 13th series is an odd one. None of the movies are good. I'm going to say that right now. The original is a shitty and unscary movie. The sequels don't fare much better. Everything about the Friday the 13th movies is absolute lowest grade. Terrible acting, complete lack of plot, complete lack of any kind of memorable characters, and low-budget everything. From the very beginning, there's been very very little that seperates it from any other slasher series. All horror series denigrate to shit, but at least the Halloween and Nightmare on Elm Street series' were based off of exceptional initial movies. Friday the 13th is a shit farm, rooted in shit. And of all these shits, Jason Goes to Hell has the foulest odor.

I'm going to get the good stuff out of the way fast, because I'd hate to give the impression that this movie is worth seeing in any way. The intro to this film is one of the funniest I've ever seen in any movie, and would have made a great short film on it's own. After killing about two thousand nubile young teens, the government has finally decided to tackle the nation's Jason Voorhees problem. So an FBI agent goes undercover as, get ready, a showering teen. Of course, Jason comes, machete in hand, and starts chasing her around. She leads him to a platoon of agents, and they blow his shit up. It's been noted many times, but the movie SHOULD HAVE ENDED THERE.

Instead of doing that, it continues on, throwing together a plot the way a sleepwalker would throw together an omelette. The rest of-

You know what? There's really nothing I would rather talk about less than this movie. It's completely and utterly without merit. That's all you need to know. No reason at all to watch.

Gore:
Who gives a fuck.

Boobs?:
Who gives a fuck.

Memorable Quote:
"Oh thank Christ!" - Me, when the ending credits began to roll

Blue Sunday 11

2006-10-15T08:54:00.000-07:00

Tube-erculosis: Volume XIV

2006-10-14T20:25:00.000-07:00

GUESS WHOS BACK UP IN THIS MUTHA FUCKA!?!

Tony's back, with a savory helping of Tube-erculosis. AND I MADE IT EXTRA SLOPPY FOR YOU KIDS. I KNOW YOU KIDS LIKE EVERYTHING SLOPPY!

AAAAAnywho, we've had another great round, but as tournaments usually go, there are decisive losers. Very decisive losers. We had four great tubes coming into this, and only two will move on to the Finals, and for alliterary (alliterational?) purposes, I have taken the initiative and dubbed the finals, the Top Two. Some shit like that... I'm still working on it...

But alas, one more we have our results. Fewer to judge, but the lab technicians had to make sure to check these results. Even though... I'd say these were fairly painless, because while all of the videos rule, in the match ups, when you really look at them, its no contest. Or at least not a lot of contest.

3rd Round - Final Four of YouTube - FIGHT!

The Final Four of YouTube is sponsored in part by: Neutrogena Ethnic Cleanser. IT BURNS!!! (tm)

16th All Your Base vs 3rd OK go - Judgement: All Your Base. Though it did have the lowest number of hits, it was surely not the underdog. Its time was long before youtube, and its been on a number of sites that try to do what youtube now does. But this one I remember as a young pup, and its the one everyone, young or old, black or white... well maybe not black... but everyone who is anyone has seen it. "Tried and true". And it really is. OK go is really really good, but All Your Base is just the standard internet fad. A true classic. But can it win?

5th Robot Dance vs 9th Christmas Lights - Judgement: Christmas Lights. Little to nothing is competition for the Christmas Lights. The robot dance is amazing, but I'll have to put it on the back burner when it comes to watching the christmas lights. You drive around and look at them when they are just hoarded at some house and on display, sucking out the precious energy just like Clark Griswald's display would. This is actually quite a spectacle to see. Where it changes colors is what does it for me. That gets me everytime. Every single time. Every cock-sucking time.

And here they are America, your finalists for the YouTube Tournament as Presented by the Peace Frog. This one will actually be hard to identify a clear winner, but by tomorrow a winner will have been chosen. Now I've been adding hidden criteria to every round, and while I can't reveal them yet, but tomorrow, you will see all that is taken into account to determine a decisive winner.

One more time, here are you Finalists:

16th All Your Base vs 9th Christmas Lights

This is where the big money is people, so take out those mortgages and get all you can on who you think is going to win. Even if you lose, and eventually lose the house to the bank, and your wife leaves you, and she gets custody of the kids, and start drinking from being the agonizing depression that now cripples you, then you get fired from going into work drunk and belligerent, and then become a nomad and wander the streets aimlessly with no purpose but to live meander through the rest of your natural life... it will be worth it. Trust me.

Until tomorrow folks...

Schoolgirls in Chains

2006-10-14T10:27:00.000-07:00

Day 11
Schoolgirls in Chains (1973)
Dir: Donald M. Jones (The Love Butcher, Sweater Girls)

The Plot:
2 brothers, ruled by their domineering mother, kidnap girls and keep them locked in their basement. Many games of "Doctor" follow.

In a Nutshell:
I had been going back and forth past this movie for a while now. Every time I came into the video store, my eye would go straight to Schoolgirls in Chains. I'd try to go and check for other titles, but the cover art for Schoolgirls in Chains, and the title itself, would not lodge itself from my mind. I wanted to save this title until later in the month, but I couldn't help myself. The movie is called Schoolgirls in Chains, fer crissakes.

Well, I expected a great many things when I placed the video into my VCR. I expected some tasteless scenes of torture/nudity. I got that. I expected it to be some variation of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and it certainly is. But did I expect it to be good? Nope. That part came as a total shocker to me.

That's right. Once again I made the mistake of judging a movie by it's title. But for every "Attack of the Beast Creatures" there's a "Schoolgirls in Chains", I suppose. The plot is a pretty unoriginal mash-up of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Psycho (which it completely rips off the ending of), but engaging and original storylines aren't needed in grindhouse horror. Grindhouse horror thrives on atmosphere, which "Schoolgirls in Chains" has plenty of.

The film's best asset is it's score, which is incredibly bizarre and unnerving. One scene, where the retarded brother is chasing one of his girls through an orchard, is scored with a harpsichord going up and down a scale, occasionally hitting wrong notes, while a greek chorus of sorts is dischordantly chanting "RUN...RUN...RUN..(you must)RUN...RUN...RUN". It's very eerie and a great example of how to use budget constraints (all the music pieces are very simple, minimal variations of public domain songs). It's also the only movie I know of that boasts the glorious voice of a cascading harp during a brutal rape scene.

As much as the film apes it's plot from Psycho and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, writer/director Donald Jones had the good mind to also take inspiration from the two films' revolutionary, but very different, cinematography. Schoolgirls in Chains is very effectively shot, alternating between the gritty handheld realism of TCM and the expressionist, Hitchcockian (if that's not a word, it fucking should be) formalism of Psycho. One particularly effective shot is a rapid zoom out from a girl being killed on a barbed wire fence as a train passes by in the foreground. It's a very effective way of portraying her death and powerlessness, and it's very striking in a film like this.

Of course, it's not perfect and that realization struck me right around the final act of the movie, when the big twist turns out that, gasp, his mother is actually dead and the sons were faking the voice the whole time! If I didn't guess it from the very first second they avoid revealing her face while she talks, I'd have been a little surprised. Then the girls are saved, by one of the girl's boyfriend, who karate chops the shit out of the two brothers, thus saving the day. These scenes aren't tense and suspenseful, just silly and laughable. A real shame, because the rest of the movie is pretty great.

Gore:
The one part of the movie that is a complete and udder failure. There's hardly any blood at all, let alone gore. Not that a grindhouse flick needs copious amounts to gore (See: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) but c'mon, at least give us the suggestion of something gruesome.

Boobs?:
Oh yes, and, as you can imagine, they are on display. The retarded little brother is particularly fond of playing doctor. From the attention he spent on the girls' chest, I imagine he's a world class cardiologist.

Memorable Quote:
"Have you made love to my son?"
"I don't think that's any of your business."
"Because I have."

Tube-erculosis: Volume XIII

2006-10-14T01:25:00.000-07:00

Huzzah! The results are just in, hot out of the lab, fresh of the presses, ...good to go. We had another great round, didn't we folks? We started out with 16 great videos, and widdled those quickly down to eight, and once more tonight, we say goodbye to four of our good friends. But fret not, as long as we find a way to remember them, they are never really lost. But wait in angst longer we shall not, so here you go America, the results of the Peace Frog Presents the Elite Eight of YouTube.

2nd Round - Elite Eight of YouTube - FIGHT!

The Elite Eight of YouTube is sponsored in part by: Beer! Remember no matter how bad life gets, there is always BEER!

16th All Your Base vs 2nd Canon Guitar - Judgement: All Your Base - It keeps me entertained for longer than the Canon Guitar does, which for most people, it will get boring rather quickly, and even for me, a rabid guitarist, I get bored after a while. Now All Your Base, its gold I tells ya, GOLD!

3rd OK go vs 13th Shining - Judgement: OK go - It's swept the nation, and stolen all our hearts, as well as our time, but thats not the point. I just think this shit is mad choreographed. I can't say yo; homie wouldn't dare say choreographed.

5th Robot Dance vs 11th Star Wars Kid - Judgement: Robot Dance - The Star Wars kid thought his friends would find it. He didn't know that it would be on the internet and his life would be ruined, but he planned ahead a tincy bit. The robot dance kid was just doing it for the love of the dance. I admire that... and that says a lot about me.

10th Urban Ninja vs 9th Christmas Lights - Judgement: Its always the last one thats the hardest for some reason. A little easier this time, but I still had to think, which was pretty lame. However, I stuck with the Christmas lights, because when it comes down to the originality again, while lots of people have christmas lights, this is the most fucked up x-core shit ever. And I'm pretty sure all asians can do those flips and stuff.

...and then there were four. The Elite Four? No silly, the Final Four, as presented by the Peace Frog. Now the competition gets heavy, as we have the best of the best of the best now fighting in a cage-match of sorts. Now keep your pants on... for now... because of course, here are the seedings for the 3rd round of this grand tournament.

The Final Four:

16th All Your Base vs 3rd OK go
5th Robot Dance vs 9th Christmas Lights

The stakes have been raised once more, and check later today to get these sweet results and see who will go head to head for GLORY, and who will be sent packing, sad pathetic losers, with skinny weiners. Once again, take it easy America. And if anyone tells you otherwise, kill them.

Holy Hollywood! Michael Jackson

2006-10-12T22:00:00.000-07:00

Man, what would the world be like without Michael Jackson?

I'll tell you what it'd be like. It'd be a strange existence, without attitude, style, and groove. We'd be dull, pushing ourselves step by step through this depressing process we call life.

A woman on the street, certainly wearing uncool clothing (due to it never being invented), would fall to her knees, hands held high in the air, and she'd scream, "God," as if she really felt one would let her live in such a droll state, "why?"

Why, indeed. Let's review the world up to Michael Jackson's big break into pop culture history, shall we? The year was 1968. America was knee deep into the Cold War, scared of the Reds wherever they wandered.

Vietnam was in full effect. We hadn't let landed on the moon. We hadn't yet had Woodstock. We hadn't yet experienced the Summer of '69. We hadn't even been privy to Project: Metal Beast. In short, we hadn't really done a whole lot of anything.

JFK was dead. MLK was dead. Malcolm X was dead. Robert Kennedy had just died. 2001: A Space Odyssey had just been released. America had questions, but they didn't have answers.

What could possibly fix all of this? Anything? What Administration or religion or philosophy could save the American spirit?

I'll tell you what.

One man. Or five men. Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. I mean, Michael Jackson and the Jackson 4. He was one of the Jackon 5. I guess it would just be Michael Jackson and the rest of the Jackson 5.

That year, 1968, the Jackson 5 shined their Motown rainbow across the world with their simple, easy-to-digest diddies. Babies stopped crying. Communists quit being evil. Everything was looking on the up-and-up.

Things only improved from there. For the next 14 years, the Jackson 5 wowed the world and the people were forever grateful. But WAIT, it got BETTER!

1982 marked Thriller, by far, the best selling album of all time. It's like Titanic, but about one thousand times over. Oh yeah, and this guy? Michael Jackson? He was twenty-four years old.

On top of that, for the next twenty plus years, he'd be a savvy businessman, a friendly, humble celebrity, and the inspiration for countless other performers. Michael Jackson was, and still is, the whole package.

Some people wouldn't like you to think that, though. They hold some unreasonable grudge against this man. This happy man! He's rich, talented, smart...what's there to hate? Are you jealous? I could see jealousy. I can live with jealousy. It's still not founded, but at least it's a reasonable human emotion.

Hatred in any other form is unjustified. Is it this whole kid thing? First of all, it was never proven. Not once. And you should know the first thing about fifteen minutes of fame is that the easiest way to do it is to clip onto someone else's fifteen minutes.

Case in point: Michael "The God" Jackson's first run-in with child molestation. 1993. Some stupid bitch named Jordan Chandler accuses Jackson of "abusing" her. First of all, what a bitch.

Second of all, this was never proven. Ever. Michael Jackson was never called guilty. My guess is that Michael was jumping off some wicked, awesome diving board at his Neverland ranch and accidentally splashed nearby bitch, Jordan Chandler. She didn't want to get wet, as she repelled fun, and whined about it. Michael Jackson, being Michael Jackson, told her to go suck on a rock. What does Ms. Chandler due? Sic on a lawyer.

Even if there was child molestation of some kind, I bet she enjoyed it! It was Michael Jackson! Don't give me some crap about how she was only 13 and didn't know what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Of course, after this gobbeldy-gook was taken out of court, other children and their money-hungry mothers and fathers couldn't help but get on the bandwagon. Children Michael Jackson had never even fantasized about before were accusing him of sexual abuse. What bullshit.

More recently, it all happened again with a kid named Gavin Arviso. And guess what happened? Jackson was named "not guilty." Bam. How do you like that? The law says we're innocent until proven guilty. For some reason, celebrities don't get this same priviledge by the public. Beats me.

People say they hate Michael Jackson because of his skin change. First of all, besides Michael Jackson, I've never heard of white people hating somebody because that somebody has white skin. That's a first, and a last, I'm sure.

Honestly, a lot of it probably has to do with his vitiligo. If you don't buy that, just check this out: remember that silver glove he used to wear in the 80s? Well, vitiligo starts in extremities (e.g., fingers, toes). Coincidence? Don't think so.

On top of that, the guy has had a lot riding on his mind since he became the most popular person in the world. That brings about stress. Coincidence? Don't think so.

And finally, let's not forget that Jackson was very often indoors, to get away from the public. This would not allow him to tan correctly. Coincidence? Well, okay, I'll bite. Maybe.

The last thing I'd like to bring up is this whole thing with the baby over the railing. If you listen to Michael Jackson, he's said over and over and over again that he "was holding [his] son tight. Why would I throw a baby off the balcony? That's the dumbest, stupidest story I ever heard."

Indeed, it is stupid. I see people walking around with their babies all the time, making goo-goo and ga-ga noises. All the time. But showing your child to cameras? THAT'S CRAZY!

Sounds like the American public has the wrong idea of what crazy really is. If Michael Jackson burned down Hollywood, then I'd say he's crazy. If Michael Jackson tricked blonde women into his motel and then killed them, pretending to be his mother, than I'd say he's nuts. If Michael Jackson flew a small plane into a New York hi-rise, then...well, then he's just a really bad pilot.

But this whole hubbub about holding his baby shouldn't even be Page 12 news. This is a non-story. There's a lot crazier in this world. Look at how many people still think the government was behind the JFK assassination!

And you know what? Let's even entertain the idea that Michael Jackson has a screw loose here and there. What if? I'll tell you what if. I wouldn't have it any other way. The best characters in films, songs, poems, and books have all been flawed. I wouldn't want to know a perfect person, in real life or fake, over an endearing, positive, nice, flawed person on any day of the week. Take a hike, all you nay-sayers. Beat it.

Tube-erculosis: Volume XII

2006-10-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

I bet you've all been pretty antsy about these results America. Who will make it to the Peace Frog presents the Elite Eight of YouTube? Well, after much debate and analysis, and a lot of time at the lab, the results are in.

Round 1 - Sweet Sixteen of YouTube- FIGHT!

The Sweet Sixteen of YouTube is sponsored in part by: AD SPACE FOR RENT - CALL (630)302-0429

1st Evolution of Dance vs 16th All Your Base - Judgement: All Your Base - It's the original. I hadn't even seen the dancing guy up until a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure he just refreshed 33,501,048 times. One for Patrick watching it, and one for me getting roped into it to. I'll see to it that you burn in hell whitie (the guy, not you Pat).

2nd Canon Guitar vs 15th Star Wars Gangsta Rap - Judgement: Canon Guitar - This one was hard to decide. While the gangsta rap is excellent, I think the people need more rock. It wasn't about what type of music, because the rap is genius, but I enjoy the Canon a little more. The star wars nerd in me is kicking myself right now, but the guitar hero in me is ready for more rock. So henceforth, more rock for all!

3rd OK go Tredmill vs 14th Yatta - Judgement: OK go - My love for Yatta was generated from the flash file. While the original retains its charms, the tredmill thing is fucking cool. Sorry Yatta. Apparently, Is NOT so easy.

4th Hooked on a Feeling vs 13th Shining - Judgement: Shining - As absurd and funny David Hasselhoff is with the cgi backgrounds, I just have more fun with Shining. Peter Gabriel was the component that made shining the clear winner.

5th Robot Dance vs 12th Numa Numa - Judgement: Robot Dance - The numa numa kid may have gotten more publicity, but this dancing fool was in a commercial for Progressive Car Insurance. Not to be confused with Geico. Just so we are clear; Progressive.

6th Brokeback to the Future vs 11th Star Wars Kid - Judgement: Star Wars Kid: As funny as Brokeback to the Future was, Star Wars Kid was parodied on Arrested Development twice, and they know what the hell they are doing.

7th Juggernaut vs 10th Urban Ninja - Judgement: Urban Ninja - Everyone quotes the juggernaut, even the fucking movie added that part. Yeah it is funny, but its been ruined by constant second guessing. The urban ninja has lots of originality points left. The great thing about him is, that when most people try to imitate him, they die.

8th N64 Kid vs 9th Christmas Lights - Judgement: This was by far the hardest one. The christmas lights rule. Transiberian orchestra rules. The n64 kid rules. N64 rules. Corona took out that ad-space to honor this video. N64 Rules. This guy went through an ass load of work just to brighten up peoples day. N64 Rules. It was tough, but I decided to go with the Christmas lights. You still have the N64 though little man. ...well newer and better things come out... Well... hey, it's alright, at least you still have that... remote control car???

Ahh... now we can all take a collective sigh of relief. But there are still three more rounds, and it will get more difficult to determine so don't... do anything drastic yet.

And now America, here are you ELITE EIGHT:

16th All Your Base vs 2nd Canon Guitar
3rd OK go vs 13th Shining
5th Robot Dance vs 11th Star Wars Kid
10th Urban Ninja vs 9th Christmas Lights

Once again, gamble by any and all means, and stick around because tomorrow the results are in for the elite eight and we move on to the final four, and will be that much closer to crowning our supreme overlord.

And as always, remember, theres nothing more cool than being hugged by someone you like, but if someone tries to touch you in a place or in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable, thats no good. Its your body; no one has the right to touch you if you don't want them to. So what do you do? First, you say no. Then, you get out'ta there.

Love,
The Peace Frog

Stay tuned

2006-10-12T12:39:00.000-07:00

Due to work schedules, I am taking today and tomorrow off. On monday, however, I will review three very special movies, and on tuesday I will be reviewing two. Then I shall be caught up.

But hey, just because I don't have horror today doesn't mean you can be horrified today. So here, enjoy this.

2006-10-11T17:15:00.000-07:00

Day 10
I Will Dance on Your Grave: Killing Spree (Vol. 2) (1987)
Dir: Tim Ritter (Dirty Cop No Donut, Screaming for Sanity: Truth or Dare 3)

The Plot:
Crazy nut kills his wife's MANY MANY lovers, chews scenery in process.

In a Nutshell:
Boy oh Boy. This is my tenth movie so far. If I had to rank each movie based on the acting, I Will Dance on Your Grave: Killing Spree (Vol. 2)* would probably be somewhere around 400th place. I have never in my life seen a movie this over the top, and I recently rented The Story of Ricky.
*Great title by the way.

The lead, played by one "Asbestos Felt", is Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet on...well...more drugs. He is Joe Pilato at his moment of division in Day of the Dead, but amped up %10,000. He is Emeril, if Emeril could only say "Bam!". And he is the most annoying protagonist in film history. We spend most of the time watching him read his wife's little black book, where she details the sexaul encounters she has with every guy she meets that isn't her husband. Naturally, he reacts each and every time by looking into the camera and straining his face like a gopher is trying to claw it's way out, while his inner monolouge confirms, yes indeed, he is upset.

The only thing worse than the acting is the writing. I understand that it's played over the top and stupid because it's trying to establish itself as "tongue in cheek" but it fails at that as well. There are sorts of cute little one-liners that are INSANELY unfunny. Things like "You screwed my wife! Now I'M GONNA SCREW....DRIVE YOU!" and "So THAT'S why he was home sick...so he could SCREW my WIFE...I CAN'T BELIIIIIIIIIIEVE IT!" And it doesn't help that he has the kind of tendency to stretch out random words that makes the Legend of Zelda cartoon seem tolerable.

The only thing worse than the one-liners is the ending. After killing every stock male porno character imaginable, you would think that would be that. Well, you wouldn't think that. You would pray that would be that. I just prayed that the video tape would get destroyed in the VCR somehow. I prayed to every God I knew of who, now that I think about it, probably all cancelled each other out. Like democracy, a prayer to Mohammad is a prayer against Buddha.

Speaking of Buddha, that fat fuck believed in rebirth. Which brings me to the ending. (what a silky segue!) All those dudes he killed, RETURN FROM THE DEAD. It's not explained how or why, probably because Tim Ritter figured that if Romero didn't have to explain shit, neither did he. Guess what Tim? Romero got away with it because he provided us with a fucking great film. You provided us a porno with all the sex cut out (more on that later).

You fail Tim. I can't believe you kept your name on this film. At least Asbestos Felt had the common sense to change his name. Unless that is his real name. Asbestos Felt. He must have been born in a Home Depot stockroom where someone mistook an inventory clipboard for a birth certificate.

The only thing worse than the writing is the fact that there are three of these. And this is Vol. 2. That means someone SOMEWHERE thought this was a success, a good indicator that the public was in high demand for another installment of "I Will Dance On Your Grave". Probably the same people who think Carlos Mencia is edgy. You know. Morons.

Gore:
Not bad. I really do appreciate when ultra low-budget films try to push the blood and gore as far as they can. Even when it looks completely fake, which it most certainly does here, there's always a lot of fun to be had by watching bad actors pull sausage links covered in red dye out of the fake stomaches of other bad actors. Lots of fun blood spray too. The most charming aspect of the film an the one reason I don't completely hate it with all of my heart, mind, soul, and teeth.

Boobs?:
I take back that last statement. I hate this film more than anyone has ever hated anything before in the entire history of mankind. I take back what I said about Stu Segall, director of Drive-In Massacre, being a cock tease artist. Tim Ritter is the ultimate king cock tease artist of all time. He should really wear a crown. Of fucking thorns.

Like I said, much of the film is our good friend Asbestos reading his wife's little black book, where she details her galactic sexual fantasies. These are shown in flashbacks, which are shot EXACTLY like pornos. The bad acting, the complete lack of personality in any character, the terrible sexual come ons ("how about you come and fix MY wiring, if you know what I mean") and the whole "bored house-wife alone with the service men" thing. But you never, EVER, EVER see any kind of sex at all. No nudity, no boobs, no nothing. It's a porno with all the sex cut out. That's like a banana made completely of peel.

Tim, you missed the memo. The reason horror movies get shitty actresses isn't because it's tradition. They get shitty actresses because if you use good actresses, it costs a lot more for them to get naked. The female actress is a tool used to give the audience erections, so they're distracted from the fact that they just paid money to watch an absolutely shitty and useless movie. When you make a movie THIS cheesey, THIS stupid, THIS poorly acted, and you make it about an unfaithful wife who fucks everybody, people are kind of going to expect some FUCKING in the movie. At least a brief glimpse of the ass cheeks, for Chrissakes.

Memorable Quote:
"So THAT'S why he was home sick...so he could SCREW my WIFE...I CAN'T BELIIIIIIIIIIEVE IT!"

Tube-erculosis: Volume XI

2006-10-11T12:11:00.000-07:00

There has been ground-breaking news in the youtube world this week. Just a few days ago, youtube.com was bought out by Google, making the youtube guys filthy rich. And what can they attribute this to? Or really... who can they attribute this to?

This guy (me).

Thats right... I did it all for them. Once I heard about the buy out, I contacted them with the means of giving me my fair share (85%) of the loot. They curtly replied back that they had no idea what I was talking about (playing project: metalbeast with me) and I informed them of what I did for them. How I poured my blood and guts into this project. They still acted like they didn't know what I was talking about, but said that they would fashion me a sweet logo to commemorate my achievements and future successes. I knew they knew that they knew, they knew I knew that they knew, but I decided to take the offer just because I'm such a nice guy, and because its much less confusing.

But what would be in this so-called "logo" of mine? What did "I" want it to be? I thought to myself and the answer was apparent to me. What gets the most hits on youtube? Besides lonelygirl15 (slut), it would be the internet fads. But so many to choose from, how could I ever determine which to use? Easily... by having A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!!!

So I asked some reliable sources (nerds I know) about what fads to use. Having seen most of them already, it was to quickly put together a group of 16, which I then pitted against each other, based on how many hits each of them got. Now of course, youtube.com is still fairly young, so some of the videos were before youtube. Does that make the seeding misleading? By all means. Does that make you better than me? NO.

IT DOESN'T.

...Anyway, I compiled a list of some of the newer greats, as well as the most watched on youtube, and the classics we all know and were tired of long ago.

(Hits were as of two weeks ago)

Coming into this tournament in first place, was the evolution of dance with 33,501,050 hits. I had never even seen this until like 3 weeks ago, so that was startling to me, but hey, a few fads were discovered by me for this bitch, so no biggie. And the guy does have moves, for one of you white folk.

Seeded in second place is the Canon Guitar with 9,531,029 hits. Originally, I had that video milk and cereal in the contest, but since I couldn't find the original on youtube, I had to let it go. There were countless covers of it, but I needed the original. You can find it on google video, which I guess I can use now, but won't yet. Anyway, this video is excellent and I'm sure you'll all love it.

Seeded in third place is the video thats been sweeping the nation as of late. The OK go tredmill thing with 7,080,247 hits. Hell, I won't deny it, this video fucking rules. The song is alright, but the video is genius.

Our fourth place contestant is David Hasselhoff singing 'Hooked on a feeling' with 4,916,445 hits. Originally I had banana phone in here, but its a flash video, so it couldn't have been found on youtube. We all remember it though... very well...

Fifth place is a video of a guy doing some crazy break dancing and he gets 4,457,260 hits. Not the craziest I've seen, but more powerful than any Asian invasion could ever be. The first little part of the video is his competition. He annihilates them shortly after.

In sixth place I have a previously cited mash-up, Brokeback to the future, with a nice 3,868,958 in hits. Its a good one, I'll give it that, it is a good one.

Our seventh place runner is the Juggernaut, bitch (I couldn't resist). And if its were dollars, he'd be a $3,406,894-aire. We've all seen it, and if not, we will now. It was quoted left and right, even in X:3, which I just thought was a cheap ploy, but hey thats his bag not mine. It is very funny, and would have remained that way if not for the quoting ad naseum.

In eigth place is probably my personal favorite of these videos. With 2,897,283 frog skins, I present to thee, the N64 Kid. You just have to watch it, it is a true classic. I chuckle just thinking about it.

*At this point in the tournament, the hit count starts dwindling. Most of the videos were fads before the time of youtube, so weren't originally on youtube and definetly have at least 10 times the amount of hits they do here, if not more, but oh well. You're still not better than me.*

Our ninth placed entry is the christmas lights, a submission of a display of christmas lights set to music. He put a lot of work into this shit, so hopefully he will walk away with the immortality that comes with winning this prestigious award. And for those of you keeping score at home, this one took in 786,329 hits.

Tenth place? Good idea... heres one with 526,493 hits. Its none other than the urban ninja. This guy definetly has balls of adamantium. When I climbed on top of Best Buy, I wanted to do shit like this, but the cops showed up before that... I was so going to though...

Eleventeenth place is the star wars kid, who got 496,449 hits on youtube. He probably got that many bitches too... I mean he was referenced on Arrested Development. You know you are doing something right (or embarassing) if you get on that show. My hat is off to you guy.

Twelfth? Whatever, we can call it the Eleventeenth place runner-up... yeah, thats gold... No matter what title we give him here, he will always be the Numa Numa guy - and he will always have 434,671 hits.

In thirteenth place is Shining, another delightful mash-up that I have mentioned before. Now you have to watch it!

In fourteenth is a real nice video of a bunch of jolly japanese men dancing around in underwear. You might call it gay, but I just call it my saturday night. I call it Yatta too, and to this video, I've slapped the ham 137,250 times.

Fifteenth is the star wars gangsta rap, and this one is about as old as they get. I remember seeing this one as an 8th grader, maybe a freshman, but yeah, the point is that its old. It for sure has way more than 79,057 hits, BUT NOT HERE FUCKER!!!

And finally, our sixteenth placed contestant is the classic internet fad, All your base. We've all seen it, and if not, we should have seen it. This one is as old if not older than the gangsta rap, and its a real keeper. All 67,052 bases belong to it.

Now the real fun begins: the tournament. It is here were the boys will be... seperated from the men? I think thats how that saying goes... but after that, the real men will be seperated from the less-manly men, and once more the truly manly men from the not-so-manly-but-still-pretty-fucking-manly men, and finally, a bloodbath.

This is pretty involved so I've decided to let you only see who exactly are being seeded against each other, and then wait in agony, and maybe even put money on who you think will win. But here they are, the Sweet Sixteen of YouTube:

1st Evolution of Dance vs 16th All Your Base
2nd Canon Guitar vs 15th Star Wars Gangsta Rap
3rd OK go Tredmill vs 14th Yatta
4th Hooked on a Feeling vs 13th Shining
5th Robot Dance vs 12th Numa Numa
6th Brokeback to the Future vs 11th Star Wars Kid
7th Juggernaut vs 10th Urban Ninja
8th N64 Kid vs 9th Christmas Lights

Who will advance and get one step closer to glory? Who will go home in defeat? Check-in next time for the results of Round One, and all of Round Two. Stay Classy America.

Blue Sunday 10

2006-10-11T08:29:00.000-07:00

2006-10-10T12:08:00.000-07:00

Day 9
Don't Go in the House! (1980)
Dir: Joseph Ellison (Joey)

The Plot:
A mother hating burns random women alive in his house, which 4 out of 5 doctors recommend you avoid entering.

In a Nutshell:
I knew this would happen sooner or later, but I accidentally rented a movie that wasn't bad. I swear this was not by choice, as it had all the tell-tale signs of being a bad movie: An exclamation mark in the title, a...well, for fuck's sake, it had an exclamation mark in the title! What was I suposed to assume? No good movie has an exclamation mark in the title!

That actually still remains true. No good movie has an exclamation mark in the title. Don't Go in the House! is not a good movie. It's just not a bad one. It has a story that could be made into a decent movie. In fact it was, 20 years prior, under the title of Psycho.

The movie centers around Donny, a slightly disturbed worker at the local incinerator who lives with his abusive mother. When the aforementioned mother croaks, he is suddenly liberated of her control and celebrates by playing disco AS LOUD AS HE WANTS. It's very similar to the "I made my family disappear" montage from Home Alone, until the voices in his head start telling him to kill people, which was sadly not in Home Alone (there's always The Good Son, I guess).

Thus he begins to pick up women, take them to his house, chain them up and burn them alive with a flamethrower. These scenes of action are few, but pretty well done. They don't rely on a series of cut aways to hide the action, like most every other film I've seen this month, and it makes them rather creepy and effective.

The main problem here is the lead, Dan Grimaldi (who later went on to be Pasquale 'Patsy' Parisi on the Sopranos). He's not a bad actor, but with so much of the film consisting of Donny being alone, he isn't nearly compelling enough. When I watch that scene in the Bird room in Psycho, I'm studying Anothy Perkins, trying to capture the moments where the mask of sanity lets slip, trying to figure out what's REALLY going through his mind at that exact moment. Grimaldi, for the most part, doesn't have much going on below the surface for his character, which is absolutely essential for the psychological horror aspects of the film to work. The only question Don't Go in the House! raised for me is "Now, what famous actor does Donny remind me of?" The answer, by the way, is Dustin Hoffman.

He may not be Anthony Perkins and director Joseph Ellison is certainly no Hitchcock, but on the whole, they manage to craft a fairly ok film with some genuine moments of atmosphere and dread. Despite the punctuation of the title (which imdb has strangely omitted), it's a slow burn creepiness that is trying to be achieved, and at certain points (particularly Donny's dream sequences/hallucinations) it works fairly well. But the concept never catches fire because, as Bruce Springsteen said, you can't start a fire without a spark.

Gore:
No gore in the classic sense. All the deaths are deaths by fire (Donny likes to take his work home with him, I guess). The charred corpses are pretty good, but Ellison leaves most of the grisly details to the viewer's imagination through effective use of shadows.

Boobs?:
There's no sex scenes to speak of. A nude woman is chained to the ceiling and burned alive, but, unlike the tied-up women of Video Violence, it's not presented as sensational, but shocking and ugly. So keep yer pants on.

Memorable Quote:
"You mean...I can play my music as loud as I want???"
*cue the film's disco theme song*

2006-10-09T14:23:00.000-07:00

Day 8
Dead Man Walking (1995)
Dir: Tim Robbins (Cradle Will Rock, Bob Roberts)

The Plot:
A zombie flick without any zombies.

In a Nutshell:
As far as movies go, it's not too bad. As far as horror goes, it's unforgivable. As the title indicates, it's a zombie movie but you'd never know it if you didn't know the title. It's mostly Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon just talkingabout God or something. It was so boring. I kept waiting for him to get the death penalty so he could rise again and take his revenge (via snacking), but they saved it til the end. And by then, there was no movie left for the undead. Super-Weak.

I will grant it this: It IS the only zombie movie to ever win an Oscar. So far...

Gore:
There's one cool scene at the end where it flashes back to Sean Penn and his partner raping and killing a girl. The only part of the movie that had me cheering at the screen. They showed no mercy.

Boobs?:
None. Which sucks hard, because I have this...well I don't want t call it a fetish. I mean, I'm not sick or anything. But I have a...thing for nuns (which Susan Sarandon plays). Something about the way they're always kneeling. And they're not afraid to really use that ruler. You know, really get up in there and just spank. Using the wrist is important, and nuns can USE that wrist. You can tell, because it makes a cracking sound, as opposed to a smacking sound. Mmmm.

Also, I want to see how dem titties of Sarandon's have aged since Pretty Baby.

Memorable Quote:
"I just wanna say I think killin' is wrong, no matter who does it, whether it's me or y'all or your government. "

Charles in Charge

2006-10-08T22:54:00.000-07:00

Being raised on television, such sweet memories of yester years can be triggered with a few simple words. When I say, "Power Rangers" for instance, I bet everyone remembers those Mighty-Morphin' group of go getters. Those kung-fu fightin' cats that we all dug. They were the cat's pajamas, truly. I bet we all remember Bulk and Skull, and how we all wanted to stick it to the pink ranger. Hell, if not Catherine Sutherland, I'd have settled for Amy Jo Johnson, even Jimmy Johnson... man I was desperate as a kid. The type of kid who would put "whatever I can get" on his face book as what he's looking for. Thank God I avoided that...

The key here is that beautiful memories of the Terrible Thunder Lizards, Eek the Cat, the Tick and other such FOX classics can be triggered at any time. But if you started to watch the Pokemon (pronounced Pocket Monsters), then when 7:30 rolled around, you wanted to crawl back into your bed and pray for the next half hour. Why? Oh... I'll tell you why...

Episode 1

Just like shell-shock, Beast Wars triggers those memories that aren't so sweet. Those chasing Charlie through the rice paddy type memories. Those watching your best friend suffocate on his own blood type memories. Those walking in on your baby-sitter shitting type memories (way to go google image search. NO HELP AT ALL!). I guess, remember the disturbing times when you walked in on your baby-sitter riding a mule... thats as disturbing as I could find without referencing tubgirl. But yeah, Pokemon proved not to be worth it for most people, but unlike them, I embraced the terror that was Beast Wars. Much like a mule-riding babysitter, one had to embrace Beast Wars. And it was a mixed up time, people were trying all new things, and hey the cool kids were doing it. Now if you think I'm kidding, try and get through the opening guitar solo and the primal screams without bleeding from your eyes and ears. The first episode follows, so hey good-viewer, take baby steps: we here at the Peace Frog care for you and your optical as well as auditory well-being. Never in your wildest fever dreams could you have imagined what beast wars turned out to be. Characters always stopping in, comic relief from Rattrap, the tough Dinobot with the spark of gold, and then a clever play on words every now and again (Optimus Prime => Optimus Primal). Then as if that wasn't enough, Hasbro started selling the Beast Wars 'Terror to Own' collection, and if you didn't have all of those you were fucking lame dude. Paired with the ad campaign "When dogs fuck refrigerators" they had a gold mine on their hands. But it wasn't all just cool toys and both money and time down the drain, as each episode was jam packed with delicious lessons that we could all bring to the real world. All of which still apply today.

Lesson #1. Nicknames are a one-shot thing. You take what you are given, and change the ending with an -or/-ox and you've got a winner. That, or take your name from an old series and stick with it, or just make it fit your new look. And remember, something witty is always a plus. When its showtime though, just have a sweet name picked out or you'll be stuck with something stupid for the entirety of the series. Same rule applies to your affiliations. Autobots right away became maximals. I mean come on try to keep up here. This is the easy stuff.

Lesson #2. You don't attack when someone is transforming. Thats an easy one though. It's the cheapest thing to do. You just don't do it... I mean, its like... its so not cool to do that.

Lesson #3. Quasar jams suck.

Lesson #4. An enemy that appears to be peaceful is actually just biding his time. Just like a playground bully, if you make fun of his weight or bathing problems, and he appears to be all chummy, you are getting your ass beat when you least expect it. Found that out the hard way a few times... but hey he didn't bathe it was gross. Is that my fault?

Lesson #5. All bad guys are British. Multiple sources show this: crime movies, japanese dubbed crime movies... the list goes on and on.

Lesson #6. Energon good.

Lesson #7. Too much energon bad. Its kind of like dinner at the Olive Garden. Fill up on it too much, and you'll never want to eat it again. Energon, like the Olive Garden, is also not authetic italian. Both have good breadsticks.

Lesson #8. Henchmen are dullards and will provide comic relief whenever possible. It might not see like this from the first episode, since it sets a very serious tone, but after a while, henchmen get blown up every episode, no lie.

Lesson #9. Diplomacy doesn't work. Words solve nothing. Thats not how they roll in the west hood.

Lesson #10. Violence solves everything.

There you have it ladies and gents, take a page from the book of Beast Wars, and when a problem occurs, use violence and just watch the problems bleed to death in a storm drain... that is... wash away.

Lesson #11. Innocent until proven guilty.

Blue Sunday 9

2006-10-08T10:51:00.000-07:00

2006-10-08T10:46:00.000-07:00

Day 7
Attack of the Beast Creatures (1985)
Dir: Michael Stanley (He never did a single thing before or after this.)

The Plot:
Shipwrecked on a deserted island, a group of people try to survive the relentless assault of several tiny dolls.

In a Nutshell:
One of the more interesting things about this movie is that, if imdb is to be believed, not a soul involved with this film was ever involved with any other film again. I'm not sure if another movie listed on imdb can claim that. But, watching the movie, it's certainly not hard to see why. After the first screening, they were probably all lynched by an angry mob.

One thing the film does have going for it: the best title of all the world ever. There are no film titles as completely great as "Attack of the Beast Creatures." Not "Killer Klowns from Outer Space", not "Africa: Texas Style" (more on that one later), not even "Project: Metal Beast" can compare to "Attack of the Beast Creatures". It's a shame to see such a great title wasted on such a shit film.

For one, the phrase "Beast Creature" kind of implies something, you know, BEASTLY. Something larger than 5 inches tall. The creatures in this film are tiny, with all the articulation of Russian dolls, and make the CUTEST little pitter-patter sound as they "run" through the forest.

The real downfall of this film, apart from acting, lighting, sound, special effects, directing, music, and make-up is the complete lack of plot. This film has less plot than any movie I've ever seen, and I've seen all the Friday the 13th movies. They land on the island, and then they are chased by little kewpie dolls for and hour and forty minutes. Never any attempt at building tension. They can't even do cheap horror right. When the little furbies pop up, there's no stinger music, or zoom ins or anything. And when your scary creatures are shorter than most remote controls, that sort of thing is desperately needed.

Like most of the films I've watched thus far, this is a missed opportunity to be a cult classic. With a name like "Attack of the Beast Creatures", half of the work is already done for you. The other half must have sunk with the ship.

Gore:
Not a lot, but there is one excellent scene where a man's face is melted because a stream he encounters is not actually made of water, but of acid. Yeah, I don't get it either.

Boobs:
None to be found. Some cleavage though. The woman who shows the most skin is the overweight old woman, who, in a really uncomfortable and long scene, washes her dirty and flabby legs. Not exactly sexy.

Memorable Quote:
"My God, it's not...water at all, its...bubbling acid!"

2006-10-07T11:41:00.000-07:00

Day 6
Ambush! (1969)
Dir: Lee Frost (Hollywood's World of Flesh, Surftide Female Factory)

The Plot:
Still a little unhappy about losing the Civil War, a squad of confederate soldiers steals 3,000 dollars and rapes a bunch of slaves.

In a Nutshell:
I'm not sure how to explain this film. Plenty of words come to mind. Vile is certainly one, as this is by far the most vile movie I have ever seen. Slaves are gang-raped in this film, and they learn enjoy it. There's a city of stereotypical black people with a completely insane thirst for whitey blood. Then there's more gang-rape, this time in slow motion. Then it climaxes with a race war, between evil jive talking negroes and tragically helpless white southerners.

The story? Um, yeah, couldn't really tell you. They set up a plot in the first scene, something to do with stealing 3,000 dollars from them Yanks, I think. It's hard to tell because I think, in an effort to remain true to the time period depicted, all the audio was recorded on wax cylinders.

The visual doesn't fare much better. All the colors bleed into each other, but that may just be a side effect from filming on location in hell.

The bottom line is how incredibly fucking racist and offensive this film is, it really made me feel dirty. I'm usually a fan of exploitation films, but I draw a line at a slave girl being gang-raped, moaning in ectasy. I'm ashamed to own this film. This film makes me ashamed to be white. This film makes me ashamed to be human.

My VCR noticed it too, because after the film was over and I pressed the rewind button, it heroically chewed up the tape thus preventing any future viewings. That's why I still own a VCR. I have yet to meet a DVD player looking out for my safety.

Gore:
The entire coloring of the film looks like Satan had her period all over it, so it's hard to determine if there is any actual blood in this film. But there is lots of interracial violence towards the end.

Boobs:
They're big but obscured by shitty picture quality and a camera operator who's unaware that there's such thing as 'focus'.

Memorable Quote:
"Alright, we'll go down and kill those whiteys. Not because you was raped, and not for the 3,000 dollars neither. But simply because we ain't got nothin' better to do."

Holy Hollywood! Baby Names

2006-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

Ahh...what's that smell? Is that love in the air? Roses and perfume and chocolates? It could be...but it's NOT!

No, it's baby powder. That's right. We've just come off another wild baby season here in Hollywood, California. The pregnancies are over, the mothers are jogging every morning, getting back their motion picture weight, but perhaps most importantly than all of that, the lucky parents are deciding the names of these little dumplings! Hey! That's not a bad name! Dumpling!

Yes, what you're viewing here is the more innocent side of Hollywood. People put grudges behind them, wolves become pups, and sharks become, uh, shrimp? In any case, like any place in the world, the birth of a child is a special time filled with discovery, love, and care-giving.

Now leave it to the assholes to ruin the moment and rain on everyone's parade.

"Those wacky Hollywood celebs are giving their fashion babies all sortsa kooky names! See if you can come up with some new ones!

I'll get you started:

Freight
Vas Deferens
Offal
Jub Jub
Nonfat Latte
Succotash
Invoice
Fax
Skill Saw
O'Hare International Airport"

Yes, hilarious Koko. You're such a kidder. Let me tell you something: that hurts. But you know what? Jub Jub's not bad...

Maybe it's wrong to be offended, I don't know, but I do know that this sort of mean poking is unacceptable. It's cruel, unusual, and punishing to one's ego. Look at me, I don't even have a kid, let alone one with a thought-provoking name, and I'm insulted.

How dare they actually think about what they're naming their kids and make it unique. They didn't just slop on any stupid name like John or Tom or Mark or Ashley. They really sat down and decided Pilot Inspektor was the best for their kid.

Are you telling me a ten year old boy named Pilot Inspektor isn't going to be the coolest kid in the recess yard when everyone finds his name out? Dude, even I'd hang out with a ten-year-old named Pilot Inspektor. The name is just that cool!

Meanwhile, if it was some schlub named Bob, well, they're screwed. Nobody likes a Bob. Nobody. People pretend to be nice to Bobs. It's pity, not friendship.

Really, what's the big deal if Jason Lee and mysterious unimportant Lee wife name their kid Pilot Inspektor? I'm looking through all of these websites made for mothers and they're bitching off about how the kids are going to be made fun of. Like it's their business.

Last I remember, it wasn't the rich kids who were causing all of those nasty school shootings. Looks like these stay-at-home moms plugged into the internet need to spend less time on ClubMom.com and more time with their kids before they pull a firearm out of the dresser drawer.

What would you rather have? Trevor, the trigger-happy pyromaniac for a child? Or little mild-mannered Apple? Easy to do that math, I hope. Here's the facts: no child from a celebrity has ever commit a school shooting. Meanwhile, non-celebrity kids have commit ALL of the school shootings! Hmm...

Let's take a look at those stupid schmucks from Columbine. The ones that shot their fellow students point-blank range with shotguns. Real winners, there. Now what were their names?

Well, I'll tell you. Dylan and Eric. Boring names, huh? Really, really dull. No wonder they shot up all kinds of teenagers. What would you do if you were just one of millions of Erics? You have to SEPARATE YOURSELF!

On a side note, after such an awful display of humanitarianism, I think we should retire names like Eric and Dylan. It's like in sports. Nobody else gets #23 in Chicago, and nobody else gets Eric in Colorado.

On another side note, check this out when you have a minute. I couldn't tell for sure, because it doesn't come out and say it, but I think this site tries to blame Columbine on the Jews. Those crazy Jews! What don't they do?

On a final side note, I think we need to divert our attention from the War on Terror, but not for any political reason. I'm sure terrorists are out there we should be keeping our attention on, but I would just have a lot more fun with a War on Teenagers. We send the entire military into high schools around the country, kill kids, and the ones we don't kill, ship off to torture camps until they admit to conspiracizing to shoot up their fellow students. This would be so much fun. I'd join the military just to be part of the hijinks.

But alas, back to baby names. I've got to ask you people who hate unique names one question: What's so great about your names? What's so great about Ryan? I took the liberty of looking it up and found out it means "Little King." Now keep that in mind.

If some celebrity and their husband/wife had a child and named it Little King, these same people with kids named Ryan would have a whooping fit! What's the problem? It's the same name. In fact, these disturbed mothers would probably accuse the celebrity of having an ego problem if they feel their child is a "little king."

Nevermind most every normal parent tries to make their child feel loved and like the greatest goddamn little ball of tissue and fat that ever squeezed itself out of a vagina. Every normal parent tries to make their child feel like that little king or queen. That's totally normal.

Why can't rich people do it? If a rich person - a celebrity - has the means to make their child feel like a billion bucks, to lavish their child with gifts and fortune...if these rich people - these celebrities - have the creativity to give their children names nobody else has and you don't because you're boring, who are you to tell them they can't?

So suck it up. There's a reason they're celebrities and you aren't. You're boring, and they're not. Well...most of them. I can't speak for everybody. Oh what the hell? Yes, I can. They're ALL BETTER THAN YOU! And trust me, that kid named Pilot Inspektor will always be better than your kid named Nick. Always.

2006-10-06T05:42:00.000-07:00

Day 5
Video Violence...When Renting is Not Enough (1987)
Dir: Gary Cohen (Video Violence 2, an episode of "Married...With Children")

The Plot:
A video store owner stumbles upon a snuff film ring in his small town.

In a Nutshell:
I was born in 1987. I work in a Blockbuster. So, for me, this was a fascinating glimpse into the old ways of the past. Local video stores, like the one depicted in the film, are a dying breed and I really think that's a shame. Partly due to an inability to effectively shift from video to DVD, and a lot to do with chains like Blockbuster, Hollywood video, and Family video. This is a real tragedy because there are all sorts of hidden gems you can find at your local video store that no chain would ever carry.

Then again, one of those films is "Video Violence", so fuck local stores.

During pre-production for Video Violence, I have to imagine Gary Cohen had only one specific goal: make the viewers unhappy. Similar to Drive-In Massacre, Video Violence taunts you with many movies that you'd rather be watching, mostly because the other movies featured are snuff films in which feature the film's characters being killed. A cathardic experience, and the film's only redeeming quality.

Also, I should stop calling this a film, because this wasn't shot on film. This was shot on video, using the same camera your mom used to videotape that one Christmas when you were 5. You know what's great about home movies? Nothing. There is not one good thing about home movies. But at least, with your own home movies, you know the people in it. You see your family. This is like watching someone else's home movie. It's uncomfortable, watching these people, who are obviously just the director's friends, trying to act. They fumble lines, they have long pauses while trying to remember what to say next, they even glance at the camera a couple times. I guess Cohen never heard of "take two".

I will grant Video Violence two things in it's favor. One, it's not as bad as Drive-In Massacre. That's not saying a lot though. The Holocaust wasn't as bad as Drive-In Massacre. Two, it's got an ok and original premise. And it makes you wonder, as the box questions, COULD THIS BE HAPPENING AT YOUR VIDEO STORE?????? Spoiler Warning: No, it isn't.

Gore:
Decent stuff. Decapitation, a guy carves his name (Eli) into a woman's boobs and dots the i with an icepick, a couple body parts are chopped off, a woman is cut open and all her delicious spaghetti innards are pulled out. Decent, if a little low-rent, stuff.

Boobs:
2 pairs. That's 4 in total, 2 of which get the name 'Eli' carved into them. Prolonged sequences of the toplessness, one of which has a woman tied up being tortured, if that's your thing. I'm not here to judge. We all have our thing. I like black women. You may like tortured women. Who am I to judge?

Memorable Quote:
"Cut it clean and then take it to the slicer and give me a half a pound of arm!"

Tube-erculosis: Volume X

2006-10-06T00:03:00.000-07:00

Well well well... look who's back. Looks like we got us some city boys Bucky. It would be a problem in most cases, but you lucked out. I prepared another heaping pile of savory tubes, and theres more than enough to share. I spoil you guys, I know.

This Friday morning, in the year of our lord two-thousand and six, I've decided to share some trailers with yall. As I entitled it last time, we'll go over the faux-, the anti-, and the just-plain-cool-. A weak reference to the good, the bad, and the ugly, but hey, at least my mom isn't a whore.

Let's first talk about this "faux" (pronounced fawks) as I mentioned earlier. I was sent one link, that I didn't think I could ever use... UNTIL NOW. So strap yourself down, take off your pants, and get that wooden spoon ready, because if I know you, which I do, you WILL have a seizure. Enjoy it as much as you can though.
(Does this qualify as a mash-up? Yeah, but I just felt it needed honorable mention in a different, but so familiar arena.)

Now we get into the good stuff. The real bomb stuff. The dare I say mondo stuff. An anti-trailer, like an anti-aircraft gun, shoots down aircrafts. But one thing it does that an anti-aircraft gun has never done, is promote a movie without using any real substance of the movie in it. This has got it all: the voice of trailers, and every opening you could ever want. I've been told I should do voice-overs, and even that out of 10, my voice was an 8.5 of pure sex, but he is the king.

Now for some bad-ass trailers. Well this first one I find kind of funny, because no matter what you do, Suspiria has got yo' ass.

This one however, is quite bad-ass. I can attest to that because I'd seen the movie, and the trailer made me appreciate it more. Weird yes?

This one is another oldie, but a very very goodie. After watching this, if you want to go out and see it, then yeah do it. Right on! But if you don't want to go out, but still want to see it, some person but the movie split up into sections on youtube. Definetly not as good as renting it, but I care for my lard-ass land-monsters out there, and I want them to know that.

Here's one that I found after doing some research on great trailers (by research I mean typing "best movie trailers" into the google search bar, and checking message boards for what seemed to be agreed upon)(I did the same with Dark City, but hey I have two movies I want to see now).

Now for two that we'll all have to wait to see. I know these won't be two more that I vow to go see and then wind up never seeing them. At least I vow not to this time... again. Anyways, I always have that part of my post where I let the videos do the talking for me, WELL FUCK THAT SHIT.

The Prestige - A star-studded cast (I couldn't find a picture of a literal star-studded cast, but you know I would have been all up in that shit), it looks really well-done, and Scarlett Johansson (two more reasons).

And finally, The Fountain - this just looks amazing. I won't even go into it.

Thanks for sticking around once again y'all. Have a safe and enjoyable weekend.

Find at least six differences...

2006-10-05T13:52:00.000-07:00

Sincere Apologies

2006-10-05T12:48:00.000-07:00

Due to unforseen circumstances (I slept in and am now being called in early to work) I will have to postpone today's entry until tomorrow. So while you may be missing the comedy today, you'll be getting DOUBLE the comedy tomorrow.

But as a consolation, here's some groovy clips from various horror films:

Man's head gets destroyed by helicopter

First Hollywood decapitation scene

It's garbage day!

Only good part of Jason X

The only good part of Every Friday the 13th movie

The death that started the best horror franchise of all time

Bill Mosele, making Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 a great movie

2006-10-04T10:57:00.000-07:00

Day 4
Drive-In Massacre (1976)
Dir: Stu Segall (Let's Play Doctor, Saddle Tramp Women)

The Plot:
IMDB sums it up best: "Two dim-witted police detectives try to catch a serial killer stalking a rural Texas drive-in theater and randomly killing people with a sword. "

In a Nutshell:
I don't know how this is possible, but every movie I've watched thus far has been worse than the one before it. Drive-In Massacre is a worse movie than Screaming Dead. Yesterday I wouldn't have believed that watching my own mother in a snuff film could be worse than Screaming Dead.

I stand today, a new man. A broken man.

This film has 3 sets, which were provided by www.utterlyboringandgenericlocations.com. One is the police station, which consists of two walls, a desk, and a filing cabinent. The other is an ill-lit room with shelves, that's supposed to resemble a warehouse of sorts. The third is some pervert's living room, complete with centerfolds taped in random places, at random angle. Either the set design crew was trying to symbolically show the tattered and shambled life of sexual deviancy of this man, or they had Vertigo.

In these sets are, well really let's n overot call them actors. Let's say 'pretenders'. The 'pretenders' of this movie are among the worst I have ever seen and, in the past couple days alone, I have seen my fair share. One, resembling Wooly Willy, runs the place. Another, resembling Clint Howard, cleans the place up. Together, they represent the worst pair since Jesus and Crucifix.

And then the ending, where you find Clint Howard impaled. There's a treat. The big reveal of his destroyed body ends with a freeze frame and the onscreen text explaining that THE KILLER WAS NEVER FOUND AND COULD BE IN YOUR THEATRE RIGHT NOW. Then it fades to black and a voice says "Ladies and Gentlemen, please stay calm, but there is a serial killer in te theatre. The police are on their way." Just about the Project: Metal Beast-est ending I've ever seen. Even if there was a killer in the "theatre" (shouldn't they have changed the ending a bit for the home video release?) he wouldn't have anyone left to kill, because anyone who paid for a ticket to see Drive-In Massacre would have already slit their wrists sometime around the scene where the two cops go on a stakeout, one inexplicably dressed as a woman.

But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that we spend at least 30 minutes on characters in their cars watching movies. That's just plain cruel teasing. They're saying "Hahaha, think of all the other movies you could be watching instead of this piece of shit."

No one goes to the Drive-In to watch movies. They go to fuck. That's what it's about. So when you're watching a movie about teenagers fucking and getting murdered, and you STILL wish you were watching that movie that's playing at the drive-in, something's wrong. You fucked up, Stu.

Gore:
Stu Segall is a cocktease artist. The beginning is good. Really quick decapitation with some nice lingering shots of guts falling out of the neck (not sure how anatomically correct that is), followed by a close-up of a sword through the throat. I actually, at one point, perked up and exclaimed aloud "Oh yeah!". Then I thanked God I was alone and no one could hear what a tool I was being.

Despite this promising opening, the rest of it is lame and dull. And massacre? 7 people were killed over a period of a week. That's not a massacre. That's a spree. Massacres happen all at once. You think just because Texas Chainsaw Massacre doesn't feature a massacre that you can get away with that? Fuck you, Stu. You need to earn that kind of title.

Boobs?:
There is absolutely, positively NO excuse for the supreme shortage of boobs in this movie. It's about kids fucking in cars. It's directed by a guy who does smut exclusively (titles such as Teeny Buns and The Dirty Dolls). Why is there only one breast, flashed for a very brief moment? Why can't you let these couples ever make it past first base? Christ, you're like my first girlfriend, Stu.

Memorable Quote:
"Why did you impale those two with your sword?"
"I didn't! I didn't! I just wanted to beat my meat!"

Blue Sunday 8

2006-10-04T08:13:00.000-07:00

Tube-erculosis: Volume IX; Prelude to X

2006-10-03T13:54:00.000-07:00

The kids these days, with all their new technologies and personal computers, in my day we got a block of wood and we were happy with it. But its all about having fun, and thats what they do, and thats what its all about. Now in some cases, the result can be disasterous; This one probably seemed like a good idea on paper. But things can look good on paper, and be even better when you try them out, and just as dangerous. With all the technology around, you figure someone would have killed that guy who is laughing by now, or at least... I don't know... let's stick with killed him... for now. But since all of us are on computers right now, why risk going outside and getting fresh air and having fun, when we can have fun right here? Theres no reason not to baby, so just strap in and let Dr. Tony get the love juices flowing.

No this isn't a tribute to porn (though thats not a bad idea), today, I'm talking about movie mash-ups. We're just lucky enough to be a part of them. Now lets have a show of hands for all those who know what mash-ups are. Some, not all, so lets review. A mash up is the product of taking clips from a movie (or several) and combining them to make a completely different movie. Some have gotten rather famous, while others have been ripped off by people for a speech project. No it was clever really. But there are a lot of really great ones that haven't gotten as much publicity, at least to my knowledge. Here are four goodins that I've hunted down to share the limelight with this week.

*Now the pre-requisites weren't that they had to make me laugh my ass off, as that has yet to happen ever, but it just had to be well-done, no dramatic cuts, and a good soundtrack. And the announcer's voice (if applicable), that was important too.*

Now since I made this sound like it was a contest, I'll make it one. This first submission wins 4th place and takes home the Certi-Fried Wood award (I didn't know what to put before Bronze). This first one takes an old movie and puts a modern spin on it. Short and sweet, I like this one, and I watched a good deal of mash-ups before I chose ones I liked. SUCK ON THIS ONE PADRE!

My pick for the Certi-Fried Bronze mash-up runs with the same idea as Brokeback to the Future, in taking two concepts and mashing them up, just like one could take a baked potato, cut out some of it, mash it up, cheese, bacon, bake it once more, and ooo you got yourself a stew baby... but really a twice baked potato. More like, a twice baked... movie... yeah...

Now the big two, the P-Trick and Trent! of the mash-ups if you will. My Certi-Fried Silver award winner picks up where-a-movie-that-wasn't-meant-to-have-a-sequel left off. Now, not having seen this first movie, I'm not sure if it skips any beats, but it seemed pretty seamless to me. Some of this shit I'm not sure how this guy got in here, but he worked it out. Very well done, and I had fun with it.

Here's what all of our lives have been culminating to, my pick for the "The Peace Frog Present the Tube-erculosis Certi-Fried Gold Movie Mash-Up Award Winner - 2006".
This one needs no commentary, so without further adieu, I present to you the TPFP-TB-CFGMMUAW'06.

Now this was titled Prelude to X for a reason, so stay tuned for The best of Movie Trailers: The Faux, The Anti-, and the Just Plain Ricoculous coming up next time.

2006-10-03T10:54:00.000-07:00

Day 3
Screaming Dead (2003)
Dir: Brett Piper (A Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell, Bite Me!)

The Plot:
An "artist" takes 3 barely legal models into a haunted house for a torture porn photoshoot.

In a Nutshell:
The premise of the film is a good one, one that could lead to an inspection of a multitude of themes including: the sexual exploitation of America's young women via the internet and Myspace, what hidden and repressed sexual desires are buried away in our minds, the question of fetish and whether or not it is healthy to explore these desires and the obsession in today's society of becoming well known and famous without having to work for it.

So of course, they decide to make the movie about the ghosts in this haunted house.

The acting is below terrible. Our lead is a half-assed wannabe Ben Affleck, who is a half-assed actor to begin with. If my bad acting algebra is correct, that doesn't even leave us with a cheek. Our villian is a putz with a mustache who must have took acting lessons from Stephen Hawking. His delivery was so monotone, it only came out of one speaker. He was so boring paint watched him dry. I don't even know what that means.

And the less said about our three models the better. I bet good money the casting process was identical to the one used by Backseat Bangers.

Then the ghosts come in, made entirely, I'm sure, by Adobe Premiere SFX presets. The kind they let you use in the 30 day demo version.

Looking back, though, I realise I've been looking at this all wrong. There is no fucking way this was an accident. It's impossible. There's no way someone could be this bad at filmmaking. Obviously this film is Meta. The torture of watching the movie creates a bond between the viewer and the girls who are tortured. You feel their pain. Literally. They cried. I cried too. They screamed "Why???". I screamed "Why???" too. We both just wanted the pain and anguish to be over.

I take back all the things I said about this movie. It's a beautiful film. With lesbians.

Gore:
Pitiful. A low-res computer rendering of a head exploding is the worst idea since 9/11.

Boobs:
Yes, yes, and yes. Showering, posing, girls chained down, all sorts of things that should make you feel ashamed of yourself. The best part of the movie.

Memorable Quote:
"I'll stop it when things go too far"
"They already have."
"Then I'll stop it when things go too further."

2006-10-02T12:56:00.000-07:00

Day 2
Project: Metal Beast
Dir: Alessandro De Gaetano (Bloodbath in Psycho Town, Butch Camp)

The Plot:
The plot is conveniently spelled out by the following two lines of text at the beginning of the film:

MISSION: OBTAIN SAMPLE OF WEREWOLF BLOOD
PURPOSE: TO CREATE ULTIMATE SUPER-SOLDIER

In a Nutshell:
The lyrics to The Who's Pinball Wizard used to be:

"That deaf, dumb, and blind kid/sure plays a mean pinball"

After seeing this movie, however, I submit that the lyrics be changed to:

"That deaf, Project: Metal Beast, and blind kid/sure plays a mean pinball".

This movie is so dumb, I think it should replace the word 'dumb'. Honestly, I really think we owe it to Alessandro De Gaetano. He's created a movie so lacking in any kind of logic, both in it's technical and narrative aspects, that it creates this unbalance in the universe. The only thing we can do is modify our world to fit it.

This is going to cause some confusion, sure:

INT-Blockbuster Store on a Friday Night

CUSTOMER walks up to front counter where BLOCKBUSTER CSR is checking in movies.

CUSTOMER

Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find Dumb and Dumber?

BLOCKBUSTER CSR looks up.

BLOCKBUSTER CSR

What's that?

CUSTOMER

The movie, Dumb and Dumber. Do you know where I could find it?

Beat.

BLOCKBUSTER CSR

Dumb and Dumber?

CUSTOMER

Yes.

BLOCKBUSTER CSR

I'm sorry, I've never heard of that one.

CUSTOMER

You've never heard of Dumb and Dumber?

BLOCKBUSTER CSR

No...

CUSTOMER

That comedy with Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels?

BLOCKBUSTER CSR

(It dawns on him)

Ohh......you mean Project: Metal Beast and Project: Metal Beaster! Yeah, it's over in comedy, under 'P'.

But these sorts of things are inevitable whenever ANY kind of fundamental change is made in our society. Growing Pains. Time will take it's course and before you know it we'll be watching Red Foreman calling his son a Project: Metal Beast-ass every week.

Anything I say about this movie is an understatement, but I will say that Barry Bostwick was cheated out of an Oscar in 1995. His role as "Impossibly Evil Asshole Bureaucrat" is right up there with that Pepsi commercial.

Gore: Kind of lame. A throat is ripped out in the beginning but for the most part it's generic blood splatter, until the end when the Metal Beast inevitably explodes. Oh and the mayor from Spin City gets impaled.

Boobs?: None to be found, though I sure felt like one for owning this movie.

Memorable Quote: "Boy, those were pretty good peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches!"

2006-10-01T14:03:00.000-07:00

Day 1
Castle Freak (1995)
Dir: Stuart Gordon (Re-Animator, From Beyond)

The Plot:
Once upon a time in Italy, Jeffery Combs and his spiteful douchebag family have inherited a huge stone castle, that once belonged to the Duchess. They also inherited a homocidal man-creature who loves to eat pussy.

In a Nutshell:
This is probably going to be the most difficult month of my life, since I'm going to be watching more shit than a nympho into Scat, so I decided to start myself off easy, with the Full Moon semi-cult semi-classic, "Castle Freak". Full Moon has always been very reliable in the shitty horror movies, and this one is no different. Castle Freak covers all the Bad horror movie bases: a Casio produced soundtrack, a cat being destroyed, and a hooker's vagina being bitten off. Seriously.

The funniest part of the movie is the family. You see, Jefferey Combs used to drink a lot and as a result, he got into a car accident that cost his son's life and his daughter's sight. Yeah, she went blind. From a car accident. And even though he's quit drinking, his family won't let little JJ's go. His wife has taken it upon herself to punish her husband by withholding sex for the last 6 months. Apparently the knowledge that you are responsible for your son's death and your daughter's blindness isn't enough punishment. Note to self: don't marry a cunty bitch.

Overall, though, the film isn't THAT bad. The direction is competent for the most part (it IS Stuart Gordon) and the make-up effects are fairly decent. At least, I hope that tiny half inch penis dangling between Castle Freak's legs was just special effects. The thing looked like a frightened gummi worm, bit in half.

Gore: Many things get bitten off. Nipples, eyes, throats, a cat's skin, a thumb (in a truly Shakespearian moment, Castle Freak bites his thumb off. He does not bite his thumb off at you sir, but he does bite his thumb off.), and, oh yeah, A VAGINA.

Boobs?: Only one pair of boobs (the hooker's) but there's tons of frightening deformed Castle Freak nudity. So if you like pasty shrivelled ball sack, this film just might be for you.

Memorable Quote: "Mom, do you really think dad is a murderer? Cuz I do."

Blue Sunday 7

2006-10-01T10:37:00.000-07:00

Just a Quick Plug

2006-10-01T01:33:00.000-07:00

My main man, and Holy Hollywood columnist Trent Johnson has a new site.

http://www.fuckthismovie.com/

The URL kinda speaks for itself, but in case it's shy, let me say a few words.

This man is fucking funny. This site is great. It's full of stuff that you will either love or will piss you off (Trent, man, I will never forgive you for your Night of the Living Dead write-up).

So go there. Bookmark it. When some douche tries to tell you how great The Breakfast Club or Donnie Darko is, try some of Trent's arguments to put them in their place.

Good stuff, tasty, like comfort food. In short, www.fuckthismovie.com is my very own chicken pot pie.

Hot Days, Summer City: Act 1, Episode 1, Part 1, Chapter 2

2006-09-30T13:49:00.000-07:00

She left, but her perfume stayed in the air, hovering for a solid 45 seconds after. I considered the case. Went over it in my head. Scratched my chin and said "hmm" to myself. It didn't seem right. But then again, in a grey city such as this, what does? Certainly not the daily news. Certainly not the shady criminal underworld. In a town like this, it's a wonder the milk man doesn't turn sour. Or into cheese or btter or yogurt or something. It's a wonder we have milk at all. It's all a charade, a game. Charades is a game, but the difference between Summer City's charade and the actual game of Charades is that the game is fun. This is more like a game of Charades where all the suggestions are really bizarre abstract and ambiguous shit that your brother Francis loves to write down because he just got back from college.

A family gathering by any other name, Summer City is one of hoodlums and shame.

I made my way south, to the Prophylactic District. Lots of dirty deeds go down there and even though the guilty parties try to keep it under wraps, there's always a chance of a leak, if things don't roll the right way. I step inside a bar. It's dark. It's dirty. It's completely empty. According to the sign on the door, it's been condemned. I don't know. Lots of these places have funny ways of keeping their clubs exclusive. My connection on the west side, Tigger, works as a bouncer for a classy little club, the Darryl Dawkins. A little shady, that Tigger, but a straight shooter and more trustworthy than a handful of kryptonite. That's the wonderful thing about Tigger. Then again, Tigger IS a wonderful thing.

I hear footsteps. Tiny tiny quick pattering footsteps. A tiny man has been following me. How could I have been so careless? Of course they would use a tiny man to follow me. It's the oldest trick in the book. I turn around and look at the ground. Just a rat. Even though there was no immediate threat, I step on it anyway. Could be a tiny person in a rat suit. You just neer know, in Summer City.

I look at my watch as I leave the building. 5 O' Clock. 2 hours on the job and all I had to show for it was some rat smear on the bottom on my shoe. This was going to be a tough case to crack. Maybe the one that would do me in. Death, the abyss, darkness and void the approaching nothingness swallowing and overwhelming. To cease existing. I am naught but shadow, a linger memory on the living. Is this what I was to be? Am I no more than some tiny person in a rat suit, crushed under the cold shoe of death? What will be when I no longer am?

I leave these questions for later. It's just about all you can do, here in Summer City.

Holy Hollywood! Paris Hilton

2006-09-29T18:13:00.000-07:00

Can anyone say Renaissance Woman of the 21st Century?

'Cause I can. And I mean it, too. I'm not saying that in some sort of sick, satirical, over-your-head humorous way. I'm saying it in a real, true, honest way. Something you would know nothing about.

He gets the assist, he goes for the three! Now pay attention everybody, because I'm about to shoot a basket of insight all over ya. Don't believe me? Well, here it is: You Need Paris Hilton.

Hard to swallow that one down? I bet. All this time, you've been devoting all of your hatred towards Paris Hilton. You've sat in the back of cars with friends, punching the back of the front seat with every tear-filled word, expelling your zealous distaste for that poor girl. And where has it brought you? Where have you gone? What are you doing NOW?

Are you an astronaut, now? Surely, you are not. Everyone knows astronauts don't hate Paris Hilton. Have you written a novel? If you wrote a novel, then I might understand your hatred for Paris Hilton. Everyone knows novelists have the right to hate celebrities. It was decided by Mark Twain, who famously despised Harry Houdini.

Since you are in no position to hate this poor debutante, why don't you shaddap already? What are your reasons for hating Paris? Her beautiful blond hair? Her modest wealth? Her music career? Maybe that's the wrong question.

Maybe this is the right question. Why do people like me ::love:: Paris Hilton and everything she stands for? I took the liberty of asking a real-life Hilton lover over the internet named "jose." "jose" made a lot of great points and I'd like to do his defense justice one point at a time. So, here we go!

"thats hot." BAM. Two words are all you need to start this sermon, brother. Whether you like it or not, Paris Hilton started a compliment revolution with the simple saying of "that's hot." What's wrong with that? NOTHING, that's what. Let's hear you come up with a saying that overtakes America.

Oh, what's that? You're not a celebrity, are you? No, so SHUT UP. A quick search on Google(.com) found over one million results for searching "that's hot." Damn! Here I've been, my thumb in my ass, and Paris is out there on her tower of rock sending thunderclouds of change to every corner of the world. How dare she try to make a difference!

"she is likelife size barbiebut even better" Thank you, "jose" for putting it in words we can all understand. Though I'd only agree with you on one point. Paris is WAY better than a life-size Barbie. A life-size Barbie would be expensive, full of unforgiving plastic, and have a scary, emotion-less face. Paris, on the other hand, is capable of every emotion on the mind-spectrum of reality. So you see, she is NOTHING like a life-size Barbie, but I will agree she's much better than one.

"if you dont like paris, you suck. dont hate her cause she is rich and beautiful." Amen, brother. That's what I've been saying forever. Hating someone for their wealth has never been acceptable. Why is that a good reason? Why? Tell me! Anyone who hates someone because they have money is a communist. Plain and simple.

Don't believe me? Well, let's just roll up our sleeves and look up communist at YourDictonary.com.

Definition 2. A Communard.

Ha! There! See? What the hell is a communard? Sounds more like a retard to me. That would certainly explain the fall of the USSR. What happens when you have a billion retards run a country? It falls down, that's what happens! What a SURPRISE! I'm shocked they made it as far as they did.

"she worked hard to get to where she is now." Yep. You think living the upper-class life is all pillows and caviar and fancy cars? Think again, pipsqueak. That's a lot you have to live up to.

What did Paris's dad do? Build hotels! What's Paris done? She became a walking, talking advertisement for her dad. What else can you ask of her? Not to mention she's become a great role model for kids and adults alike. She begs us all to ask the question, "if I had money, what would I do better than Paris Hilton?" Now isn't that comforting? Isn't it good to think long and hard about a question like that? Not only this, but it makes you want to get rich all the more. Don't try to tell me otherwise.

The one I think we should all be looking at with a frown on our face is her younger sister Nicky. For shame, Nicky. Here you are, with all of this money, and what have you done? NOTHING. She sits around, out of the lime light, and minds her own. That is no way for a rich person to act. A rich person has to flaunt his/her wealth for the common people to be jealous over. Jealousy is a good thing, it makes us stronger. Like steroids, except jealousy ain't illegal in the Major Leagues. Hear that, Barry Bonds? Maybe an alternative is right up your alley.

"read her book 'confessions of an hairess'. its really good. its shows the truth the real side of paris hilton." I bet. I haven't read it myself, but I'm going to say "jose" is right about this one. And here's my question: how many of you haters have read the book? Probably none of you. You'll say you don't want to waste your time, but we all know that's bullshit. You have nothing to do all day, anyway, besides spout another pseudo-clever insult about Paris Hilton.

"you only get to live once and why be so uptight about things. have fun. the greatest sin inlife is beaing boring." Truer words have never been spoken. Not only is "jose" wising us all up with his philosophical revelation, but we're all learning why Paris Hilton is so important. She gives people a reason to LOVE LIFE! What more can you ask of a person? If someone like "jose" feels like they want to live another day because of Paris Hilton, is that such a bad thing?

Heck, I'm as guilty as anyone when it comes to worshipping false gods. Porn, cocaine, giant life-size Barbies...where would I be without these things? I probably would've killed myself a long time ago, that's what. So if I'm still alive thanks porn, cocaine, and Barbie, is that such a terrible thing?

Maybe you can sit on your pedestal of righteousness and cast the first stone, but I don't think you can. Who are you to say that a man must die because he can't love the woman of his dreams? You know, there was a person who did that kind of thing: her name was Maleficent, and she put little Sleeping Beauty in that tower, trying to kill love. But she learned the hard way that you can't kill love. Just like you can't.

And just like Paris will forever be the sleeping beauty, her fans will forever be Prince Charmings, riding ever closer on their horses: Windtaker, Black Beauty, Blaze, and Prancer! And besides even the fans, like I said at the beginning, You Need Paris Hilton.

It's not a want, or a got. It's a need. If Paris Hilton didn't exist, what would you be doing with your life? Maybe the same thing, maybe not. I'll tell you one thing you wouldn't be doing. You wouldn't be making fun of Paris Hilton. By not doing that, you're creating this void in time and space. What happens to voids in time and space? They EXPLODE. And then they turn into black holes. Before you know, we're all dead!

All becomes Paris Hilton didn't exist. You need Paris Hilton. Face it. Live with it. Love it. Love her. Want to be with her. Just...just to...just to sit next to her and smell her neck...yeah....yeah, that'd be...real nice.

Tube-erculosis: Volume VIII

2006-09-29T11:52:00.000-07:00

This is just way to fucking cute not to watch.

Tube-erculosis: Volume VII

2006-09-29T09:47:00.000-07:00

Here at the Peace Frog, I think we all do a little something special. Patrick with his ties in the industry, Trent and his with Hollywood, Wasner with cartoons that all can enjoy, and myself. But what do I do? Well sir, I like to share the spotlight with others, specifically through the use of youtube. But who is deserving of all the publicity and hand-outs that come with being featured on the Peace Frog. No, not Modest Mouse again (though what a great group of guys they are), but someone's whom I admire and who is very underrated, and deserves it. Now without further adieu, I present to, the Peace Frog Tuber's Portrait of Jeff Goldblum.

Not Pictured: Jeff Goldblum

Of course Jeff Goldblum is on youtube. I mean, Come on! Killing rich cunts ever since 1952, his hustle and tenascity hasn't died down since. His delivery, his interior monologue, his attitude; much like Brian May's guitar tone, it has many parts, and all of them are important. Jeff Goldblum in his purest form, I feel, can be seen right here. You'll see what I'm talking about.

Hey Mikey, he likes it!

Yeah, Jeff Goldblum can scat. Now you love him even more. And now for another little fun fact about him (great for breaking the ice at parties). Did you know that he played Professor Harold Hill in a production of the Music Man. Yeah, he did. I saw the audition video, and though I couldn't find it, just imagine this if you will, coming out of Jeff Goldblum's mouth (much like acid vomit) Yes theres trouble.... RIGHT HERE in River City.... now that's trouble with a... yes... a capital T and THAT rhymes with P... and yes, THAT stands for POOL.

Now if you are a beloved Mac user, or just watched tv six/seven (and I dont mean whatever six divided by seven is you smart-asses) years ago, then you may have remembered their ad campaign featuring Jeff. Now if you couldn't imagine him as Harold Hill, watch this and try again (and not like the Aaliyah try again, because shes a damn liar, and I'm pretty sure we've been through this before). Now calm down everyone, I'm almost positive that you have an email. If it makes you feel better, you can go check. And once you get back, treat yourself to another gem from the same campaign. Do what I say cause I said it. I'm almost positive for that campaign, they just stuck Jeff Goldblum in front of a camera and told him to convince people to buy a computer in 30 seconds, and hes just that much of a beast that he did it flawlessly. He's a crafty son of a bitch, alright, let me tell ya...

Today we've shared laughs, tears, and two hard-boiled eggs. And the fact that we could bring Jeff Goldblum into this makes it all the better. For the final loving tribute to you sir:
Jeff Goldblum

1952-2025?

*Note: Oh yeah, and prepare to shit yourself.*

EXCLUSIVE, ONLY ON THE PEACE FROG: A TRACK OF THE UPCOMING MODEST MOUSE ALBUM, "IT'S FREEZING COLD, FOR A FIREBALL"

2006-09-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

I've been a Modest Mouse fan ever since I first heard "Long Drive For Someone With Nothing to Think About" back in '99. You know, way before you even heard of them. And long before the unwashed masses attached themselves to "Float On" without even understanding that it wasn't an optimistic song, it was a ironic statement about blind faith in your future, mocking the very masses that welcomed it with open arms. Stupid stupid unwashed masses. Go wash yourself, for Crissakes.

Anyway, I'm Modest Mouse's biggest fan. So when...the singer and the frontman for Modest Mouse...um...not 100% positive about the name. But honestly, if I have to give you his name, this article isn't even for you anyway. You probably don't wash.

Anyway, when HE contacted me and said that he was a huge fan of the Peace Frog, I nearly shit myself. When he said that it was the funniest site on the web, I did. When he told me that he wanted to give us a first look at his new album "It's Freezing Cold, for a Fireball", it turned into diarrea. When he said that we would be the only place on the web to have this exclusive song "Grey Bus Blew Over", I started to vomit as well.

I woke up 25 minutes later, severely dehydrated but that guy, the trooper he is, stayed on the line with me. What a cool guy. What a really cool guy that...singer. Is. He's cool. What a great band.

But I've been ado-ing entirely too much. So, without further ado, the Peace Frog exlusive track "Grey Bus Blue Over".

Click here to download "Grey Bus Blue Over" from Modest Mouse's upcoming album "It's Freezing Cold, For a Fireball".

Blue Sunday 6- Stats

2006-09-27T07:16:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon...31 DAYS OF TERROR

2006-09-26T22:12:00.002-07:00

I love you people. You guys are my lifeblood, my bread and butter, my right hand men, my sidekicks. You are the Errol to my Flynn. This is why I am willing to put myself through hell this coming month.

October is beautiful. The leaves, the clouds, the escaped inmates in mechanic jumpsuits and Kirk masks, it's all always held a special place in my heart. It's probably clogged a few arteries too.

It is, of course, the month of Halloween, the gloriously awful holiday that promotes teenage girls to dress as hookers with cat ears, kids to rot their teeth with 13 cubic pounds of Skittles, and Donald Pleasance to put on a scenery chewing performance that wouldn't be topped until Joe Pilato ran a monkey farm.

You may notice I keep coming back to the horror movie, Halloween. It's because Halloween holds a very special place in my life, as being the first and only movie that made me poop my pants with fear. Poop my fucking pants, I did. That's how good it is. Seriously, if you haven't seen Halloween, rent it, watch it alone, in the dark, with the sound turned way up. Just be sure to have a fresh pair of underpants on hand.

But this isn't about good horror movies, nor is it about shit stained drawers. This is about bad movies.

This October, I will watch the worst of the worst: One terrible shitty low budget near smut horror film a day. And I will keep you updated. I call it...

31 Days of Terror

That's another graphic I'm gonna need Wasner to provide me.

So stay tuned, because I'm putting my happiness on the line for it.

It's Not Our Fault

2006-09-25T12:48:00.000-07:00

I want to clear the air right now. This whole thing going on in Iran? Not our fault. We never had a hand in any of that.

You know what we DID have a hand in? The following piece, entitled "Hot Days, Summer City". Now, onto Act 1, Episode 1, Part 1, Chapter 1 of "Hot Days, Summer City".

I was alone. Usually was at night. Lonely nights. That's all there ever seemed to be, down here in Summer City, and it's been that way for all eternity. But it wasn't always that way. I was once happy and gay. Then my father sent me to one of those Christian camps, to pray the gay away. Even then I remained upbeat.

Then she walked into my life. I remember that day well. It was night. 3 in the afternoon to be exact. Not that it matters, here in Summer City. The days may be hot, but the days are all greys, even at night it's a grey day. Even during dawn it's dusking on a new summer, here in Summer City, where everything, including the hot days, are grey. Even my car is grey. Where was I?

Then she walked into my life. She had a hat that went all the way to the top of her head, a smile that seemed to say "come and kiss me" and a handbag full of Worthers Originals. She said hi, and I said it right back her, but not in a mocking way or anything. I mean, she was a client.

That's right. I was concentrating so much on how Grey this grey grey town is that I never even got to telling you what I do. I'm a private detective.

Alright, good, now that's over with.

She said hi, and I said it...went over that already. Shit.

I said have a seat, she said don't mind if I do, I said, not that chair, that chair has tacks all over the seat, she asked why the tacks, I told her that in this business you never know.

She sat down in the other chair, the one without the tacks all over it. I thought, this dame's smart. That's the chair I would have chosen. The exact chair. Maybe she's too smart. I rested my hand on my 38 special. In this business, you never know.

She offered me a candy. A Worther's original. I took it. I don't like them. But I knew someone who did. A Friend. More than a friend, really. But not quite a partner.

I don't mean a life partner. That's queer, and I haven't done anything queer since I was 7, praise the father son holy spirit.

No he was more of a...

You know what? He actually isn't in this tale at all. He was on vacation in Flordia the entire week that this story spans. So I'm not going to introduce him. Not yet. It's not...time. Yet.

I looked back up at her. She had the candy held out. On her wrist was a diamond bracelet and on that were the initials "T.A.L.". What kind of a name is Tal? I asked her. It was in jest, but that went over her head as she explained that they were initials for Timothy Anthony Lansbusion. Maybe this dame wasn't so smart after all. I held my 38 Special even closer. In this business, you never know.

Then she said a bunch of shit about her missing cousin or brother or something like that. I wasn't paying attention to her words. It doesn't take long in this business to realise that words don't hold up in a trial by jury. I needed ANSWERS. While she was busy blabbing about this kidnapping or that ransom, I was busy trying to get to the bottom of the case. Also, to sneak a peek down her blouse. They weren't bad. Not stacked, but a good handful.

"I'll take your case." I said. I looked just to the left of her to let her know I meant business. First rule of being a private detective: Never look them in the eyes. Then they can smell your fear and they become hostile.

She turned around to see what I was looking at. I chuckled. She certainly didn't know the first thing about being a detective. If she was going to save her brother/cousin/pet, she was going to need some professional help. Thank goodness I took the case.

I stole another candy from her purse before she turned back around at me. I didn't like them. But I knew someone who did. More than a friend, less than a partner. That's just how it goes here in Summer City.

Blue Sunday 5- The Quad

2006-09-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

The Peace Frog Proudly Presents...

2006-09-23T22:28:00.000-07:00

When Aliens Attack!

We Are The Nation Of Appropriation

2006-09-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

ap·pro·pri·a·tion
1. The act of appropriating.

Smartass.

ap·pro·pri·ate
v. ap·pro·pri·at·ed, ap·pro·pri·at·ing, ap·pro·pri·ates (-t)
1. To set apart for a specific use: appropriating funds for education.

That'll have to do, I guess. Who am I to try to argue with www.yourdictionary.com? (THE official online dictionary of The Peace Frog).

See that silly shit at the top? The guy who has the disembodied head of Rowlf for a beard? That's Auguste Rodin, a famous french sculptor from the late 19th/early 20th century. He did a lot of silly shit with naked men for a while.

Then he became a sculptor.

After that he did more silly shit with naked men, only this time he was smart and got an agent to pass it off as great art. This of course allowed him to accomplish his final goal of "being so famous that people can't make fun of my beard."

Anyway, he once did a piece of artwork called "The Age of Bronze"

which became famous because it was a throwback to an earlier work by Michealangelo.

That's right, the iconic "God Equipped Me To Defeat Goliath not To Adequately Please a Woman (The Spiteful Jew)"

So, as long as you're ripping off someone else's good art, and changing it just a little bit, YOU'RE making good art. The same has to apply to comedy. It HAS to.

I now present to you Abbot and Costello's classic "Who's On First?" routine, as appropriated by Patrick Ripoll. Notice that all I did was punch up the names a bit to make them a little more edgy for today's audiences and *BIFF!* their genius is now my own:

Abbott: Alright, now whaddya want?
Costello: Now look, I'm the head of the sports department. I gotta know the baseball players' names.Do you know the guys' names?
Abbott: Oh sure.
Costello: So you go ahead and tell me some of their names.
Abbott: Well, I'll introduce you to the boys. You know sometimes nowadays they give ballplayers peculiar names.
Costello: You mean funny names.
Abbott: Nicknames, pet names, like Dizzy Dean -
Costello: His brother Daffy -
Abbott: Daffy Dean -
Costello: And their cousin!
Abbott: Who's that?
Costello: Goofy!
Abbott: Goofy, huh? Now let's see. We have on the bags - we have Fuck You on first, Cum Guzzler's on second, Dried-up Cunt's on third.
Costello: That's what I wanna find out.
Abbott: I say Fuck You on first, Cum Guzzler's on second, Dried-up Cunt's on third -
Costello: You know the fellows' names?
Abbott: Certainly!
Costello: Well then who's on first?
Abbott: Yes!
Costello: I mean the fellow's name!
Abbott: Fuck You!
Costello: The guy on first!
Abbott: Fuck You!
Costello: The first baseman!
Abbott: Fuck You!
Costello: The guy playing first!
Abbott: Fuck You is on first!
Costello: Now whaddya askin' me for?
Abbott: I'm telling you Fuck You is on first.
Costello: Well, I'm asking YOU who's on first!
Abbott: That's the man's name.
Costello: That's who's name?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Well go ahead and tell me.
Abbott: Fuck You!
Costello: The guy on first.
Abbott: Fuck You!
Costello: The first baseman.
Abbott: Fuck You is on first!
Costello: Have you got a contract with the first baseman?
Abbott: Absolutely.
Costello: Who signs the contract?
Abbott: Well, naturally!
Costello: When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the money?
Abbott: Every dollar. Why not? The man's entitled to it.
Costello: Who is?
Abbott: Yes. Sometimes his wife comes down and collects it.
Costello: Who's wife?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: All I'm tryin' to find out is what's the guy's name on first base.
Abbott: Oh, no - wait a minute, don't switch 'em around. Cum Guzzler is on second base.
Costello: I'm not askin' you who's on second.
Abbott: Fuck You is on first.
Costello: Dried-up Cunt.
Abbott: He's on third - now we're not talkin' 'bout him.
Costello: Now, how did I get on third base?
Abbott: You mentioned his name!
Costello: If I mentioned the third baseman's name, who did I say is playing third?
Abbott: No - Fuck You's playing first.
Costello: Never mind first - I wanna know what's the guy's name on third.
Abbott: No - Cum Guzzler's on second.
Costello: I'm not askin' you who's on second.
Abbott: Fuck You 's on first.
Costello:Dried-up Cunt.
Abbott: He's on third.
Costello: Aaah! Would you please stay on third base and don't go off it?
Abbott: What was it you wanted?
Costello: Now who's playin' third base?
Abbott: Now why do you insist on putting Fuck You on third base?
Costello: Why? Who am I putting over there?
Abbott: Yes. But we don't want him there.
Costello: What's the guy's name on third base?
Abbott: Cum Guzzler belongs on second.
Costello: I'm not askin' you who's on second.
Abbott: Fuck You's on first.
Costello: Dried-up Cunt.
Abbott & Costello: THIRD BASE!
Costello: You got an outfield?
Abbott: Oh yes!
Costello: The left fielder's name?
Abbott: Cock-sucker.
Costello: I don't know, I just thought I'd ask you.
Abbott: Well, I just thought I'd tell you.
Costello: Alright, then tell me who's playin' left field.
Abbott: Fuck You is playing fir-
Costello: STAY OUTTA THE INFIELD! I wanna know what's the left fielder's name.
Abbott: Cum Guzzler's on second.
Costello: I'm not askin' you who's on second.
Abbott: Fuck You's on first.
Costello: Dried-up Cunt.
Abbott & Costello: THIRD BASE!
Costello: The left fielder's name?
Abbott: Cock-Sucker.
Costello: Shit!
Abbott: Oh, he's center field.
Costello: Look, you gotta pitcher on this team?
Abbott: Now wouldn't this be a fine team without a pitcher.
Costello: The pitcher's name.
Abbott: Anal Leakage.
Costello: You don't wanna tell me today?
Abbott: I'm tellin' you now.
Costello: Then go ahead.
Abbott: Anal Leakage.
Costello: What time?
Abbott: What time what?
Costello: What time tomorrow are you going to tell me who's pitching?
Abbott: Now listen. Fuck You is not pitching. Who is on fir-
Costello: I'll break your arm if you say Fuck You's on first. I wanna know what's the pitcher's name.
Abbott: Cum Guzzler's on second.
Costello: Dried-up Cunt.
Abbott & Costello: THIRD BASE!
Costello: You got a catcher?
Abbott: Oh, absolutely.
Costello: The catcher's name.
Abbott: Lacerated pussy lips.
Costello: Lacerated pussy lips. And Anal Leakage's pitching.
Abbott: Now you've got it.
Costello: All we've got is a couple of days on the team.
Abbott: Well, I can't help that.
Costello: Well, I'm a catcher too.
Abbott: I know that.
Costello: Now suppose that I'm catching, Anal Leakage's pitching on my team and their heavy hitter gets up.
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Anal Leakage throws the ball. The batter bunts the ball. When he bunts the ball, me being a good catcher, I wanna throw the guyout at first base. So I pick up the ball and throw it to who?
Abbott: Now that's the first thing you've said right.
Costello: I don't even know what I'm talkin' about!
Abbott: Well, that's all you have to do.
Costello: Is to throw the ball to first base.
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Now who's got it?
Abbott: Naturally!
Costello: If I throw the ball to first base, somebody's gotta catch it. Now who caught it?
Abbott: Naturally!
Costello: Who caught it?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Who?
Abbott: Naturally!
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott: NO, NO, NO! You throw the ball to first base and Fuck You gets it?
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That's right. There we go.
Costello: So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott: You don't!
Costello: I throw it to who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!
Abbott: You're not saying it that way.
Costello: I said I throw the ball to Naturally.
Abbott: You don't - you throw the ball to Fuck You?
Costello: Naturally!
Abbott: Well, say that!
Costello: THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING! I throw the ball to who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Ask me.
Abbott: You throw the ball to Fuck You?
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That's it.
Costello: SAME AS YOU!! I throw the ball to first base and who gets it?
Abbott: Naturally!
Costello: Who has it?
Abbott: Naturally!
Costello: HE BETTER HAVE IT! I throw the ball to first base. Fuck You grabs the ball, so the guy runs to second. Fuck You picks up the ball and throws it to Cum Guzzler, Cum Guzzler throws it to Dried-up Cunt, Dried-up Cunt throws it back to Anal Leakage - triple play.
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Another guy gets up - it's a long fly ball to Shit. Cock-Sucker? Dried-up Cunt. He's on third and I want your hot and sticky man-goo all over my face!
Abbott: What was that?
Costello: I said I want your hot and sticky man-goo all over my face!
Abbott: Oh, that's our shortstop.

See? Appropriation. It's just as funny, if not funnier, than the sketch it was based off of.

Holy Hollywood! Brad vs. Vince

2006-09-22T10:09:00.000-07:00

Every moon, a feud is born. Sometimes they end in handshake, and sometimes they end in something less gentlemanly. It is difficult to gauge which it is in any given situation, but we can guess.

Great Historical Endings:
World War 2 - handshake (by way of nuclear bomb)
Cold War - something less gentlemanly (by way of mysterious falling wall)
Civil War - handshake (by way of swordshake)
Vietnam - something less gentlemanly (by way of running away with our tails between our legs)
Y2K - handshake (little known fact: Y2K actually did exist, but conceded its Armaggedon power to terrorists right before the new year)

So, you see? History (or hertory, depending on who you talk to) has a way of solving itself in two easy possibilities. That's what scientists call options.

However, the present is NOT history. It's the here and the now. Therefore, the present can't be held to the same standards as these other things that have happened.

Brad Pitt and Vince Vaughn have been linked to mutual disgust for one another since the Great Aniston Division. There's nothing like a ho to separate two bros. I mean, c'mon! These guys were like two spit bubbles in a bucket during Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Now? You're more likely to find Brad Pitt's spit bubble on Vince Vaughn's cheek.

My, my...how times changed. Allegiances shift. Attitudes deteriorate. Booty calls. Kids from Cambodia inexplicably get involved. It's war, and war is hell.

It all started around the time Jennifer Anistion (hereon referred to as "the ho") finished up the last season of Friends. Cruising on about seven billion bucks and a fanbase to beat the band, the ho was all set to start some of her MOVIE projects (like the mega-popular flicks Derailed and Rumor Has It). Floating on a bit of an ego, she rubbed it into Brad Pitt the wrong way.

Since the paparazzi did not catch these filthy conversations, we are left to guess how they might have went:

HO: Ah'm gon' be a movie star!

B. PITT: BI-OTCH, siddown!

::SMACK!::

With Brad Pitt on the set of Mr. and Mrs. Smith daily at this point, staring at the luscious Angelina Jolie, he head for greener pastures. You can't blame him. The ho was going mad with power.

However, perhaps we went too far ahead in our story. Before the bitch slap heard 'round the world, Brad Pitt was getting buddy-buddy with Vince Vaughn on the Smith set. With a common affinity for money, the two bonded and laughed and hugged.

On Christmas night, 2004, Brad Pitt was leaving the Smith set and found Vince Vaughn shaking, huddled on a snowy doorstep, heating a can of beans over a small fire. Feeling guilty, Brad put a hand on Vaughn's cold shoulder and asked if he wanted to join he and the ho for dinner.

It was a spectacular dinner with turkeys and jellies and sugar delights. Vince Vaughn had never SEEN so much food before! While Brad was patting himself on the back for his good deed, the ho's eyes turned to a different feeling.

Hunger, because she hadn't eaten all day. Also...arousal. For Brad, and for Vince. She couldn't quite explain it, macaroni and cheese sticking to Vaughn's lips, but something gripped her like never before.

And, well, you know how the rest of that story goes:

"B. PITT: BI-OTCH, siddown!"

::SMACK!::

So here we are, 2006, and we've yet to see the inevitable battle in the Hollywood WarDome. How much longer do we have to wait, guys? Is this going to be some pussy handshake ending? Or will it be a little more interesting?...Perhaps even something less gentlemanly?

Well, in light of the beginning of the football season, and the oft-seen breakdown of team against team before games, I thought I'd do something similar.

Say hello to the Game Day Breakdown: Brad Pitt vs. Vince Vaughn

::Fireworks! Explosion! Holocaust!::

Here we are at the Hollywood WarDome. Good to have you with us this afternoon and you know, we're expecting a hell of a match tonight.

Both of these movie stars have rested, been pampered, and have memorized their blocking for this bloody affair. But before we get to the battle, let's analyze our players.

Physicality - Being that this is a physical fight, physicality will be a major part of this all. It seems obvious that Brad Pitt would have this area because of his Fight Club background, as well as all that tanned battling at Troy, but don't throw Vince Vaughn out of the match so soon. Vaughn could very well go Old School on his ass, and athletically-wise, Vaughn has a lot of experience with Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story if there ever was one. However, Vaughn's just a bit too puffy when it comes down to it for ol' Mr. Pitt.
Winner: Brad Pitt

Mentality - Well, I think this one is pretty simple, honestly. Brad Pitt was smart enough to ditch the ho and Vaughn hasn't yet.
Winner: Brad Pitt

Experience - Brad Pitt is older by about Se7en years, but Vaughn has an experience Pitt never has. Vaughn has experience as a Swinger(s). Brad Pitt never had that kind of leadership quality, instead, left off to be just one of Ocean's Eleven. One might point to his Seven Years In Tibet, but Tibet has got nothing on The Lost World. Sorry Brad, this won't be a one-sided affair, after all.
Winner: Vince Vaughn

Luck - Inherently, just by being movie stars, both have a certain amount of luck going for them. However, who has more? Well, Brad was lucky enough to hang out with Thelma & Louise, be involved in a Spy Game or two, was mentioned during An Interview with the Vampire, and Snatch(.)ed up Twelve Monkeys before someone else could take that part. What has Vaughn done to get Made with his luck? He went a little Psycho with Gus Van Sant, and nobody was happy. He tried to steal the spotlight from Zoolander, Starsky & Hutch, and Anchorman, but he never prevailed. His best luck has come from being a marriage crasher, or a Wedding Crasher(s) (yes, I know that was a stretch) with that ho. Sorry Vince, no luck for you.
Winner: Brad Pitt

When it all comes down to it, Brad Pitt is pretty much the winner, 3-1. Is it really any surprise? Get with it, Vince. You can only be a loveably obnoxious womanizer for so long before people start wising up to your act.

Meanwhile, Brad had the balls to ditch that ho and make whoopee with the crazy chick with her brother's blood. You gotta hand it to Brad - anything's better than a stuck up ho. That wisdom comes straight outta Compton for ya, bitches.

As for Vince? Well...he lost, but if it's any comfort to him, he can keep his ho for as long as he likes. I'll patiently be waiting for The Break-Up.

Tube-erculosis III, IV, V, VI: Quadrilogy

2006-09-20T21:24:00.000-07:00

Behold the power of one man! On the youtube featured videos, I saw that some lady had taken a picture every day during her pregnancy. Why would someone in their right mind do this? She didn't think it was a cool idea, she saw the rising popularity of Noah after my fingers made him a celebrity over night. Imagine, a woman getting pregnant just to try and impress the humble readers of the P-Frog. That bitch is getting slapped just like her baby did.

*To the reader: This is a long one, as this is a double post, so make sure you sit back, relax, knock back a few bruskies, catch up with your old internet girlfriend while the videos are loading. If not just watch this . Yeah this is going to be a record breaker...*

Another week, another bunch of videos found about youtube. This week, I thought I'd focus on music. We've all seen bad music on youtube, whether its been the helter skelter kid or some idiot wanking away on his Ibanez, but where did music begin to die?

Right here.
The 80's: where everything seems cool on Vh1, but living through it sucked. The downfall of classic rock, the birth of hair metal, and Reagan. Well... I take that back. Hair metal isn't so bad. But in this video we see Michael Angelo Batio create his quadruple guitar out of thin air. Fat air... pfft... thats easy, this nigga does it out of thin air. This guy is a Grade A shredder, the world's fastest according to guitar world, and given the name, I think they're reliable.

Now overseas, the day the music died came much earlier. It's killer, Zlad the Impaler. It does take place in the future, but it still sucked when it was made. In the future it might be trendy, those kids today are unpredictable, with their Dan Fogelberg...

Now flash-back/flash-forward to 200x, where Fred Durst killed music with only a few notes. Didn't know Fred Durst played guitar? Neither does he...

Yes of course its sad that music was dead for a while. What did we do with ourselves? It must have been like Farenheit 451, only inplace of that, the temperature that mp3's spontaneously catch fire at. (But nevermind that, I think I hear a dying horse on my floor. Those theater kids must have acted out a scene from Old School, or quoted Dane Cook or something. Man... to be cool)
Anyway, like the Dali Lama, music reincarnates itself magically, once more out of thin air.

Metal is being overcome by screamo and emo and all that gay shit, but one man is on a quest to bring back generic metal, and place it atop its golden... ox. Much blood will be shed during this fourth reich, but it will be worth it. With the vocal range of a rottweiler spliced with an eagle, Posehn is fighting the good fight. He's so metal he can do what he wants, as you will soon find out.

Now we saw Fred Durst beat that poor guitar senseless, but now heres a man who beats that guitar tastefully.

Now a little something for those assholes out in the crowd. Jazz never died anyway, it's just smelly.

Now that Helter Skelter kid has heart, and that will do most of the work for you, especially if the job is pumping blood. But ten years later, that kid comes back, to show us the way to Beatles masterdom... pterodactyl... oh fuck you that was damn clever.

Finally tonight, I bear two gifts. One is a little flavor from south of the border, now keep your mind out of the gutter, because I don't think anyone wants any shit flavored like anything down there. Here's some bossa nova banjo, as controversial as it may be right now, I'm running the story. And super finally, Steve Martin spanks her.

Alas, music is fine again, though in reality music sucks right now. I guess one man has very little power, but at least I'll always have that pregnant lady...

*Update: She's not pregnant anymore; my life is over*

I'm Famous by Johnny Thunder

2006-09-18T11:23:00.000-07:00

Hey Y'all. It's me, Johnny Thunder. I was just sittin' outside by the pool, practicing my humming bird magic (check out the picture, y'all! Where did the bird come from? Sometimes I amaze even myself, hahaha!) when my dear dear friend, Patrick asked me to do an article for him. Well I couldn't say no, not to my dear dear friend Patrick! Besides, I was running out of nectar anyway and them birds were getting restless! Hahaha!

Well, all you out there in internet land, the topic of my article today is about being famous. I'm here to tell you, it's great! Outstanding! I'm having so much fun! Did I mention I have a pool? A big one, like the kind the Olympics use! But don't get any ideas now, I may have made a few gold records, but your ole pal Johnny Thunder has a lot of practicing to do before he wins a gold medal! Hahaha!

Let me describe to you nice people what it's like to be famous. First, I wake up every morning and give my beautiful wife Linda a big ole kiss good morning and tell her I love her. I'm sure many not-famous people do that too. But they don't do it to my wife! Hahaha! Or at least, they better not! I don't play around with that shit, if I find a motherfucker in bed with my wife I am going to kill the said motherfucker! I'm famous, I have a good lawyer, ain't no way I'll get a conviction! You know who you're dealing with? I'm Johnny Thunder, motherfucker! You don't fuck with Thunder, son, because where's there's thunder there's lightning, and I will NOT hesitate to fry your ass! Stay the fuck away from Linda!

Hahaha.

Then I shower, and go downstairs and eat breakfast with my two kids before they have to head off to school. Well, one kid at the moment. Denise. Little Robby is in rehab right now. I think. He found his old man's cocaine when he was 16, followed the old saying of "stop and smell the flour", and I haven't seen him since. Doesn't matter cuz I'm pretty sure the kid ain't mine. And Denise is a fine child. We play tennis together every Sunday and, just like her Daddy, she's got a really mean backhand. Hahaha!

After that, I have pretty much the rest of the day free to work on my true passion: Hummingbird magic. I'm not technically still active in the music industry, per sae, but Missy Elliot sampled my song "Sweet Loving Fire" for her latest album, so I'll occasionally get check in the mail for 3.45 cents everytime she sells a thousand copies. Music industry is like the gift that keeps on giving!

And besides, what would I want to work for? Working is for people who aren't famous yet. And I'm already there.

This is Johnny Thunder saying, keep it on the live wire y'all!

Blue Sunday 3- Uncle

2006-09-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

Blue Sunday will now update every Sunday and Wednesday. Mark your calendars folks- and don't forget Calliope every Monday and Thursday.

Cease plugging. Commence boogying.

Bring Back Those Nigger-Free Schools

2006-09-16T13:54:00.000-07:00

***The following is from the blog of a one "redneckyankee88". I'd present it with some kind of commentary but really, there's nothing I can say that's funnier than "than someone shits a turd". All I want to say is that racists really crack me up because they are SERIOUS about this. I make racist jokes all the time, but it's in the context of making fun of the racist mindset, not the races themselves. For example, the whole reason I even stumbled upon this Xanga is because he read a xanga post of mine of the folling AIM conversation I had with my friend:

soybomb43: we could have been something
soybomb43: something special
soybomb43: something dangerous
nattybunkin: i know hunny, i know
nattybunkin: it just wasnt the right time
nattybunkin: we were too young
nattybunkin: too naive
nattybunkin: too ugly to love one another truthfully
soybomb43: true that, but I could always pretend you're wonderwoman
soybomb43: I havea good imagination
soybomb43: but you know what
soybomb43: you are right
soybomb43: we were too young
soybomb43: we weren't ready for that type of commitment
soybomb43: we weren't ready for the stress
soybomb43: the trust
soybomb43: the monogrammed towels
nattybunkin: the silken thongs
nattybunkin: the inlaws
nattybunkin: the massive sperm count
soybomb43: massve sperm count
soybomb43: I really do have too much
nattybunkin: i mean, maybe in the '70s
nattybunkin: but we are the future now
soybomb43: too true
nattybunkin: too much is a disgrace
soybomb43: we were born in the wrong era
nattybunkin: makes it difficult
soybomb43: We can n longer lynch niggers.
nattybunkin: that's what i miss the most
nattybunkin: the biggest turn on for me was watchin those sambos mount the gallows
nattybunkin: if only time were not a thing
nattybunkin: if only we could drift among the epochs
soybomb43: if only place were not a lie
nattybunkin: transcend all of time
soybomb43: the ebs and jetsom of conciousness
nattybunkin: ahh, then glory would be attained
nattybunkin: the heavens, what are heavens?, would open for us
nattybunkin: oh gloria gloria, if only
soybomb43: if these shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended
nattybunkin: love is all but a game, nothing but an abstract name
soybomb43: Think globally, act locally

This is the outstanding comment that he left:
"lol. hey check out my xanga bout nigger-free schools. -- jason."

What he drew from that long and absurd exchange was the fact that me and nattybunkin must hate black people. Of course. Way to crack the code, redneckyankee88.

Anyway, here's the great Xanga post:**

Its been awhile since I posted some shit up on here cuz almost forgot I had this xanga. But looking at all the comments back from y'all on whether I should shut down this site, I see only the nigger lovers think I should shut down. And who gives a shit what they think. LMAO. So lets post something new.

School started again -- yeckkkkk -- cuz back to school means back to classes with niggers. Maybe its the same for you, but I mean one of the best thing about summer is that you don't have to come in contact with these jungle animals. Sure there around town, but you dont have to get close to em, smell em, take their shit, listen to the nigger rap crap blasting. You can kinda keep your distance from the jungle filth.

School is like a big swimming pool full of kids, all kinds of kids like big ones, little ones, cool ones, uncool, hot chicks, nerds, all kinds. Then someone shits a turd. It kinda affects everyone around. When a nigger is put in a school with normal decent kids, it's like having a turd fuck up the whole swimming pool. And my school has like more niggers than ever, maybe near half. That's alot of turds, and nobody wants to swim there.

Not long ago I chatted with this dude who grew up in the south when America had something called segregation. It was like a long time ago but whites had schools for themselves and blacks had there own schools. This guy said it was much better cuz niggers could learn at their own pace and not drag down all the white kids.

Whites did better without niggers startin fights, stealin shit, blamin whites all the time, and generally messing up the school. And white kids did not have to waste time on Black History Month and other "politically correct" shit that takes time away from real learning. I saw somewhere that this black 'educator' wants to bring back segregation to help blacks learn better without whites. Now this is a rare find -- a smart nigger!

I mean we should all get behind this idea and make our schools nigger-free. While scientific studies prove (see earlier post here) that blacks dont't have the same brain size as whites or asians, some basic education is probably okay for niggers. Back in slave days, the white owners never wasted education on their niggers because they had simple jobs for them to do. In fact, some states outlawed teaching any nigger to read or write.

They knew that a nigger who could read usually became a trouble maker because it thought it knew more shit than any white. But I don't have a problem with educating niggers somewhat. I just don't want to be dragged down in my school because they can't learn as fast as whites can.
So what are your experiences getting back to school with niggers? Or are you a lucky one in a clean white school? Comment back.

Post-Script
So much for pathos. And so much for me not including a commentary, for that matter. But this would as good a place as any to present you with some contact information for the Peace Frog (or for me, anyway.)

AIM: soybomb43 (feel free to IM me about whatever. I'm a lonely man and electronic text from strangers is like a warm blanket.

e-mail:soybomb@care2.com

We also have a facebook group. So there's that. Whatever that means.

Beauty or Beast?

2006-09-15T00:49:00.000-07:00

Some say that beauty is skin deep, and anyone who has seen a super-model flayed and hung to dry would probably agree.

The Merchant of Venice says that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But http://www.yourdictionary.com/ (THE official dictionary of the Peace Frog) defines 'beholder' as "a person who becomes aware (of things or events) through the senses". So basically, anybody with working senses? Thanks for narrowing it down, you geep of a salesman. If I ever run into Helen Keller, I'll be sure to tell her beauty isn't in her eye. Fucking Dago.

Some would even go as far to say that beauty is subjective. To them I shout "Ha, you silly silly person! Look at yourself! LOOK! What do you see? I see a cast member of 'I am Sam' except you aren't winning Oscars because you aren't acting. You're simply retarded. There. I said it. The R word. That's right, motherfucker, I'm EDGY. I say EDGY things because I'm on the internet where WE PUSH THE BUTTONS THAT THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA MAY BE AFRAID TO PUSH. FUCK YEAH, I'm fucking EDGY."

I have this attitude only because I know for a fact that there are some things that are inherently beautiful. Who among us can say they have not felt a profound sense of wonder watching a sunset over the ocean? I know I have. Who among us can say they can look at great works of art such as Michelangelo's statue of David and not been certain they were in the presence of something truly breathtaking? I know I have. Who among us has not admired the forbidden beauty of standing for untold hours over the bed of their 4 year old cousin, appreciating her slow and tiny breaths, her miniature fists clutching tight at the edges of the blanket, and golden hair, so soft to the touch?

I know I have.

Well guess what. Beauty is what beauty is and there ain't nothing subjective about it. The following is a segment where I seperate the beautiful from the eyesore. I like to call it:

Beauty or Beast?

Rosario Dawson: She's a mix of Puerto Rican, Cuban, African American, Irish and Native American. I mean, just look at those last two. Irish AND Native American? That's a one-two punch of alcoholism. And the only thing sexier than a drunk bitch is a drunk bitch with a fine ass. That's where being a Cuban Boriqua Sista comes in handy. Plus, she's into comic books. Grade A, 100% Beautiful.

Now just look a that. This is a decayed head of a corpse. Someone tell me that's beautiful. I dare you. I defy you to find beauty in that mess. That's a face that not even Norman Bate's mother could love. That guy looks like a melted pile of Snickers. That is nasty. That is a Beast.

See? It's not that complicated. This is Patrick, chief beautifulness analyst for the Peace Frog. Join me next time when I tackle more of the tough issues on...

BEAUTY OR BEAST?

...yeah I really need Wasner to do some kind of title graphic for me. This big and bold text isn't cutting it.

Holy Hollywood! Lindsay Lohan

2006-09-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Lohan. Just the last name, on its own strange power, kisses your senses and persuades you to smile. I can tell you, as a scholar of these sorts of things, it is not the phonetical organization that brings about such a pleasing feeling. "Lohan" tickles your funny bone, touches your heart bone, and squeezes out those pleasure endorphins, uh, bone, through the magical ability of MEMORY.

Remember when Lindsay Lohan was in The Parent Trap? What a cute little cutey! And TWO OF THEM?! Twice the fun (and twice the adventure...uh, in a purely non-sexual way when referring to two eleven-year-old girls...). I think I speak for the whole planet when I say 1998's The Parent Trap pulled the citizens of Earth onto a rollercoaster of delight that hasn't let go since.

Lohan! How do you describe Lindsay Lohan? I went to the most obvious source: yourDictionary(dotcom). It came up with this...

Sorry, no words matching "lohan" were found.

My thoughts exactly, online dictionary! See, that's what separates Lindsay Lohan from the rest of we laymen. You can't define her!

She's young, rich, popular, skinny, and tan. She gets to be in the picture business! She can sit down and negotiate contracts by day, and by night, let herself loose as the party girl she was born to be! What's not to love?

It's jealousy, is what it is. Oh, you don't know what I'm referring to? That makes sense, you're stupid. Let me break it down for you. If you go ANYWHERE in these United States (continental, anyway) and bring up Lindsay Lohan, you'll be met with jeers, jolts, and juice! Well, not juice. That'd be great if it did, though! I would have so much free juice and my belly would be so full and I'd drink and grin and drink some more.

But most of the time, no juice. Instead, I have to hear some IGNORANT remark about how Lindsay Lohan is a bitch or a whore or ugly. First off, how dare you call her ugly! And the other stuff might be wrong, too. We'll get to that.

However, let's start with these ugly comments. It seems like everyday some new shmuck is calling Lindsay Lohan skinny and ugly. And this is okay! Nobody tells that person to watch their mouth or mind their manners. I never hear a peep of defense for Lohan after such a heinous comment.

That doesn't make sense! What right do you have to call Lindsay Lohan ugly? How do you get away with that? Look, if I said Kathy Bates is old, fat, and ugly, I'd be reprimanded!

But she is old, fat, and ugly. Why the double standard? What does Bates have that Lohan doesn't? Maybe that's the wrong question...

Maybe the right question is this: what does Lohan have that the haters don't? Uhhh, everything! It's jealousy, plain and simple. People are furiously jealous of the young star. The only way they can rationalize their own sad, pathetic lives is to try and take Lohan down a peg or two. Now isn't that ugly? Not in a physical way, but in a personality way. It's an ugly thing to do. That's an ugly life to live. If all you can think to do is make clever jabs about Lindsay Lohan, you need to rethink the priorities in your life, or maybe kill yourself.

Look at Lohan! She doesn't waste time bashing other people behind their backs. She's concerned about her career, and god bless her for that. However, Lohan-haters don't want you to look at it that way. They want you to think she's some tool laid out by the government or by Big Tobacco or something so they can take away your liberties. Obviously, this whole stance is bullshit.

Really, how dare Lohan try to balance a hectic A-list life in Hollywood and try to enjoy some downtime? What a selfish, ugly human being! Who is she to have dreams, goals, and aspirations? It's ignorant remarks like these that just make me want to snot all over the world.

Check this out. Check out this douche bag. This is a letter from some bigwig in Hollywood named James G. Robinson. He's probably been fired already, but that's neither here or there.

The important thing is that a few months ago he issued a letter out to Lindsay Lohan, regarding his concerns over her sickness and having to miss production dates. I am going to take you point by point and beat the whole thing to a bloody pulp.

Dear Lindsay, [These will be my comments. First of all, it's Ms. Lohan to you, buddy. You have not earned the right to call her Lindsay yet.]

Since the commencement of principle photography of Georgia Rule, you have frequently failed to arrive on time to the set. [What Old Crabby Pants doesn't tell you here is the little-known fact that actors DO NOT show up to set at the beginning of the day! This time is spent with set designers, the director, the DP, the UPM, and interns producing the massive sets necessary for the beginning of the shoot that day. The actors do not arrive to set AT THIS TIME. Therefore, of course it would seem, through a few twisted words, that Lohan has not been arriving "on time," when in fact, the time she arrived was just fine.]

Today, you did not show for work (all day). [I knew this little jackass would try to include this part in. What he's not saying is that Lohan called IN ADVANCE that she would not be able to show up because of a well-documented illness. So yes, she was not at work all day. However, it's hardly like she just blew it off. Don't you think she'd rather be involved in the work she loves instead of hocking bloody loogies off the side of her bed, with a fever of one hundred and fifty degrees? Think!]

I am now told you don't plan to come to work tomorrow because you are "not feeling well." You and your representatives have told us that your various late arrivals and absences from the set have been the result of illness; today we were told it was "heat exhaustion." [How like that slimy Mr. Robinson to try to simplify her disease as just "heat exhaustion." Let's look up this illness, shall we? I head over to this page on Medterms.net to find that heat exhaustion is a little more serious than our wily film CEO would lead you to believe. Direct quote: If heat exhaustion is untreated, it may progress to heat stroke. Are you willing to have that blood on your hand, Mr. Robinson?]

We are well aware that your ongoing all night heavy partying is the real reason for your so called "exhaustion." We refuse to accept bogus excuses for your behavior. [Whoa! Rewind! You are aware this is the reason or you assume? You don't know that's the reason, and how dare you make that accusation! This entire portion stands only on hearsay and speculation. There is no evidence. This comment would never stand up in a court of law. Objection, indeed.]

To date, your actions on George Rule have been discourteous, irresponsible, and unprofessional. You have acted like a spoiled child and in so doing have alienated many of your co-workers and endangered the quality of this picture. Moreover, your actions have resulted in hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage. We will not tolerate these actions any further. [I read this section and all I can do is laugh. He goes about publicly insulting Lohan like a father to a six-year-old daughter, and yet, I ask this in retortion: where are examples? He brings none to the table. How are we to believe any of these outrageous accusations are true if he has no evidence? Moreover, if Lohan's attitude is truly this way on stage, why have we heard no other complaints from film producers? Are we to believe ol' Jimmy G. Robinson is just the first one to have it up to "here"? Highly unlikely.]

[See, I did some research (unlike Jimmy Robinson) and here are some of the bad-ass titles Mr. Robinson produced: Juwanna Mann, a remake of The King and I, that retarded-looking Two For the Money, and perhaps most humorously, a movie called Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Can anyone say hypocrite? Just to clarify, I'm not trying to redirect attention to Mr. Robinson, per say. Rather, I would just like to show you that JR here is not of the bad-ass quality to be the first of a line of producers to have had it with Lohan. More likely, he is just a cranky old man who wants to yell at someone to make up for his own wasted childhood.]

If you do not honor your production commitments, including your scheduled call time for tomorrow, and any call times thereafter, we will hold you personally responsible. [This portion is supposed to sound commandeering and authoritative, when in fact Lohan has been following all of these rules up to this point. However, Lohan cannot be held accountable for unforeseeable illness.]

This means that in addition to persuing full monetary damages, we will take such other action as we deem necessary to preserve the integrity of the George Rule Production as well as Morgan Creek's financial interests. I urge you to take this letter seriously and conduct yourself professionally. [This is the wrap-up, and it's cruel. First of all, as I have explained, he has yet to cite any examples, he's speculated only on hearsay, and he's simplified or misconstrued other instances and her illness to further express his bogus stance. On top of all of this, he slams the threat of a lawsuit on this poor girl. If there is a God, why would he allow this to happen?]

That's it for the letter, and I think I made my point. People give Lohan a really bad wrap, and it's about time they all just shut the hell up. Lohan is a gifted, lucky girl who should be praised for all of her hard work to keep us entertained, not repimanded for simply taking advantage of the opportunities put in front of her. If that is what we're doing, what kind of human beings are we? I'll tell you what kind: ugly, fat assholes who have nothing better to do than make fun of celebrities who couldn't care less what you have to think.

SAVE LINDSAY.

Tube-erculosis: Volume II

2006-09-14T17:39:00.000-07:00

Hello once again all. For this weeks hit, I thought I'd try something a little different. Now deviation scares me, so it won't be too much, but I just thought I'd open up with a feel good tube of the week this time.

This one I stumbled across while wandering about youtube. I just thought this was cool. All the beautiful scenery, and the song on the background is pretty cool. I imagine if Beavis and Butt-head watched this, Beavis would say "woh. thats pretty cool," while Butt-head would reply, "yeah, if you're a wuss." Amidst all these great shots, one kind of boggles me. Now I researched it too make sure Guam wasn't in ruins as the shot suggested, and the Guam Visitors Bureau makes it look like the place to be, but I'm pretty sure Matt just slammed Guam as a whole. Good for you Matt. One gripe though, rather than take a contest winner, why not use the Numa Numa guy. He just released a new numa video, and there's some $25,000 contest linked with it, but I say just use that money to take his fat ass around and get him some pussy. I mean, like the victims of Hurricane Katrina, his fifteen minutes of fame are over, but still, he needs that punani.

Now what everyone came for. Some of that crazy shit we've all been sent links to. Some of that honest oxen. I will let the video speak for itself, but try not to have any seizures, I'd hate to have that on my head. Well if any one has any seizures, just don't tell me. Also, watch the little kids, in some shots they look like Harlequin babies. If you don't know what that is, look that shit up. It's bound to haunt your dreams.

Blue Sunday 2- Sasquatch

2006-09-13T06:40:00.000-07:00

A Clump of Plinth

2006-09-12T16:28:00.000-07:00

When I just clicked on "add new post" about 10 seconds ago I had no idea what to write about. I was determined to write, though, because I needed to update this place at least once a day. I need to keep you savages at bay, like those sky flowers from Land of the Dead, lest I get my belly button ring ripped out.

So what this is right here is the creative process*. Unfolded. Right there, before your eyes. Exciting! The raw energy and power of the untaped potential of the blank text box! Here we go!

...So...today I-

No, stupid. This isn't my blog, I don't need to talk about my day. I should talk about something that actually interests you. What's exciting? Theres....um...

So, I rented this movie-

Fuck, that's my day again. Ok. Here we go. Starting fresh. I gotta fish for ideas in my stream of conciousness. Got to find those tasty nuggets. Gold nuggets.

If I was a 49er, I wouldn't shout "Thar's Gold in Dem Hills!". I'd keep it to myself, so I wouldn't have to share the gold. But those prospectors, they were all such great guys. Scientists have proved they were the greatest generation of Americans. Or was that our grandparents?

My Grandpa wasn't a 49er. He was a military man. Army to be more exact. Back when writers and future leaders were soldiers and it wasn't populated by those assholes in crew cuts. My grandpa joined because he wanted to help his country. I'm pretty sure most people who join today are just some aggression junkies who no longer get that same high from weekends of paintball as they used to.

My grandpa was in the Battle of the Bulge. I was in a battle of the bulge once too, but that was because I sat down too fast while wearing tight jeans.

But I don't mean to get political. Have you ever seen the movie Troll? I have. In fact, I own both Troll AND Troll 2. The night after I saw Troll for the first time, I had a nightmare where I was in my basement with my girlfriend and just outside the basement window was a Troll with a bejeweled dagger. Being the manly protector I am, I turned to my girlfriend and squealed "Oh shit! The Troll is outside! It's gonna get us!". Well, OF COURSE the Troll heard me and ran inside of my house. Me and my girlfriend tried to take refuge in my room. I armed myself with a bowling pin I got for my 7th birthday and she armed herself with a big leather boot, the kind that hookers wear. I don't know why that was in my room, but I'd hate to hear what Freud would say about it.

Either way, it didn't matter because the Troll broke my door down and flayed us both, the way only a magical 3 foot killer could. That's when I woke up to my mom calling my name, telling me to get dressed and go down to Walgreens for milk, and that I left the garage door open last night AGAIN, really Patrick it's not that hard to remember do you want us to get robbed or something?

So, still half-awake, I wander upstairs, and go into the garage, where I find a garbage can knocked over, with the trash all over the place. Immediately I knew what this meant. Last night wasn't a dream. There really was a Troll. I mean, the garbage can was knocked over. That's the work of a Troll. Oh shit. How do you deal with a Troll? Can you reason with a Troll? You can reason with Warwick Davis's Leprechaun. He just wants his gold. What does the Troll want? How can I strike a deal? How can I kill it?

The idea makes me sick to my stomach. I'm pretty firmly against killing, even in self-defense and even if it's some wretched halfling with a deformed head. I mean, to purposely, aggressively created death where there once was life. To see his eyes, to see the intellegence and thought behind them, be sucked out until they are lifeless, like dolls eyes, it makes my stomach flip. But I need to protect my family at the same time, I need to protect my girlfriend, she saw him too, she's now involved, and I have a commitment to go past my comfort zone.

But is it moral? Jesus didn't kill the Romans. It would have been in self-defense if he did, but he didn't. He even scolded his friends who used violence to save him. Who am I that my life is more important than that of Christ?

I get in my car, and millions of things are racing through my mind and I begin questioning things that I used to just accept as fact and reality. It's not until I pull into the Walgreens parking lot that I remember that I was KILLED in my dream, and the mere fact that I wasn't dead was indisputable proof that it was indeed just a dream. I get out of my car, looking around, thanking all sorts of Gods and Demi-Gods that I didn't call my girlfriend and to tell her that our lives were in danger.

What was the point of that story? The point is, I'm barely above a Gump level of intellegence, let alone educated enough to take any strong political stances. I don't hate Bush. I don't know whether or not he is the reason our country is in shambles. I don't even know if our country is actually in shambles. Seems about the same to me, as far as I'm concerned, minus a couple of really tall buildings in New York.

I just hate pricks who play paintball.

* See Also: http://jerslater.blogspot.com/ It's funnier, really.

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words, part 1

2006-09-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

Let's face the music, we all love idioms and would be up shit's creek without them (or at the very least, in a pickle). Some of them look great in needle point ("A House Divided against itself cannot stand") while some would make great t-shirts, the edgy kind you see at Hot Topic ("Not Playing with a Full Deck"). And some others are just plain good ideas ("Ethnic Cleansing").

But you know what they have in common, besides being listed on www.idiomsite.com ? They are all 100% true. Every single one of them is the Honest Oxen*. And I intend to prove it. The following will be my proof that all idioms are true, using "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words" as an example. Go ahead, count em. It's exactly 1000 words.

*It's also great fun to create your own idioms.

I found this picture by doing a google search for "Murderland". I searched for murderland because I was listening to the Wu-Tang Clan at the time and that was the phrase that Cappadonna ended his verse with (Dirty Island/drag bodies to the Murderland/Knock niggas out/ hurtin' my hand). I don't know much about what he meant by "drag bodies to the murderland" unless he was referring to taking people to the least happiest place on Earth (ok, tied with Rapeland). Also on that growing list of things I don't know is why people insist on mispronouncing Reese's (It ain't REE-SEES, folks) and why this picture popped under the phrase "Murderland".

I can guess though.

It's a band. It's a shitty ass metalxcore band. That picture? That's their singer. Sad isn't it? I don't know what Murderland is, but if it's cool enough for the Wu-Tang to name drop, it's definitely too cool for this kid. It's misleading, it's dishonest, for a lame ass band like his (who are even worse live, if you can believe it) to claim such a sweet name.

INT. - SOME DUDE'S BASEMENT

Imagine a monster that's innards are made entirely of out of focus pictures of punk/goth/douche high school kids at local hardcore shows flicking off the camera, ratty pictures of Dimebag Darrell ripped from the pages of old issues of Guitar One, bright colorful fliers for various local bands ( especially Stranglefoot, Pit of Fungus, and Fritz the Stabber), and greasy smeared fingerprints.

The basement looks like that monster got the YHVH exploded out of it, and the results splattered on it's walls.

SOME DUDE sits on the couch, thumbing through an issue of Spawn. SOME DUDE'S FRIEND comes running down the stairs.

SOME DUDE'S FRIEND
Dude...

SOME DUDE
Dude?

SOME DUDE'S FRIEND
Dude, I just got tickets to this wicked sounding band.

SOME DUDE
What band?

SOME DUDE'S FRIEND
I dunno, but they're called "Murderland".

SOME DUDE drops the Spawn comic, and his jaw.

SOME DUDE
Sounds excellent.

SOME DUDE'S FRIEND
I know, they sound like the Flattest thing since Tedtown.

Pause.

SOME DUDE
Huh?

SOME DUDE'S FRIEND
It's an idiom dude. You know, an expression whose meaning is not predictable from the usual meanings of its constituent elements, as "kick the bucket" or "hang one's head", or from the general grammatical rules of a language, as "the table round for the round table", and that is not a constituent of a larger expression of like characteristics.

Pause.

SOME DUDE
Oh that's right.

They do the Bill and Ted air guitar thing.

Just look at that scene. The poor things have no idea what awaits them when they actually get to the show. You think that a punk ass kid with hair like that is worth a Bill and Ted air guitar moment? I doubt his band even HAS sweet guitar licks. They probably settle with that drop C# downtuned 1 and 1/2 steps noisy garbage that pollutes metal like Gene Roddenberry's body pollutes space.

Now, if you can, take your eyes off the incredibly bad hair of the dude and just check out his surroundings. He's at a restraunt. He's about to be fed. That's no reason at all to look gloomy! That's a great time! He should take a note from God's most majestic of creation, the guppy. Have you ever seen a fishbowl full of guppies? Have you ever spelled out "Guppy" outloud? Do it. I'll wait.

Wasn't that funny? Gee,-You-Pee-Pee.-Why? cracks me up every time, without fail.

But the point is that guppies are always happy when they're about to be fed. they always swim to the top of the bowl and do that cute little fish thing, with the mouth. "Hey there," they merrily exclaim, "you must be God. The Creator. YAVH. Thank you for blessing us with this foul smelling manna from above. We are grateful and sing your praises."

Maybe your guppies aren't as spiritually intuned as mine, but the message is the same. Food = Live = Happiness = Praise to God in the form of an Algae Eater sacrifice.

But this dude, there he is, he has a whole slew (3.71 bunches, metric) of options at his fingertips and he still looks sad. He should follow the way of the guppy. Or preferrably get sucked into the filter and die. Either one.

His shirt says Minok. It's another band. It's the band his best friend is in. The best friend, Ed Rossen (Stagename: Warren Deth) used to be in Murderland but they had a falling out when Ed criticized his lyrics (specifically the couplet "Shut up dad, get out my room/my head is a hat-wearing tomb") for being "too much of a stretch". The lead-singer bitch yelled a lot of things and Ed packed up his bass and his fog machine and left forever.

This scene is etched into the little pussy's mind and he wants to try to make things right, so he constantly wears his Minok shirt at all times, just in case he runs into Ed on the street, so Ed will know he cares.

The final figure in our picture is not even concerned with the Capt. Pussy Baby in the foreground. He sits there, in the booth in the background, eating his meal, thinking about how much he loves 24 and how America needs someone like Jack Bauer who GET RESULTS using proven methods (violence). He also thinks that Wedding Crashers is a hilarious movie. He drives a nice car and his son is in the pee-wee football league. If he ever found out that his precious son, at the age of 11, was attracted to men and was less of a Packer than a fudge-packer, he'd kick the kid out of his house.

And if he ever realised, at the age of 37, getting wasted every weekend and going to strip clubs with his buddies from work was more sad than it was cool, he'd probably hang himself.

The Misadventures of Cock Rockington, Volume One.

2006-09-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

I do apologize for the late beginning. I was actually supposed to post on Friday, but some unexpected delays arose. Last night, for example, I went to a modern-dress version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but lemme tell you, man, the costumes were very impressive. Hermia dressed as a Catholic schoolgirl? Hot damn! And the fairies? Dressed about as skimpily as they could get away with for a community theatre production. They were babes, too. One of ‘em was missing, though. You know, there’s supposed to be four fairies, and one of ‘em wasn’t there. Mushroomhead, I think.

Sadly, my favorite scene was not included. You know the one, where the newly-transmogrified Bottom discovers the wonderful benefits of turning into a donkey, if you know what I mean. His penis. It would’ve been bigger. That’s what I mean. Just for those of you who didn’t quite get my innuendo. That’s a French word, right? Innuendo? Where was I?

Right! Fortunately, I was able to leave them a suggestion card detailing how they might improve future performances. I remember writing it as if it were yesterday… “Not enough bitches! And it needs more titties. I only saw, like, one titty. And I think it was a man titty. That ain’t right, man. Billy Shakes ain’t down with no man titty. That’s just wrong. Wrong!” I think they got the message.

I’m posting a bit late today ‘cause I was at church. Yes, that’s right. I go to church. And do you know why? No, none of that hallelujah, praise Jesus nonsense. I go for bitches! Now hold on. Just hold right the hell on. I know what you’re thinking. “Bitches?! What nigga in their right mind goes to church for bitches?!” Well, I do! Think about it. They’re taught to be all pious an’ shit, so they’ve got some of that…sexual repossession whatnot. Once you get ‘em worked up, they’re freaks in the bed! Can’t barely control them bitches!

One of ‘em out there was real fine, too. Pastor’s daughter. She’s a little young, though. Like 12. I don’t think I’m supposed to be thinking about that kinda stuff. I, uh…huh. Lost my train of thought. Anyway, I’d hit that. I’d plow her like a Chinese peasant in the Great Leap Forward.

…damn, man. I need a shower.

Holy Hollywood! Nick and Jess

2006-09-08T15:34:00.000-07:00

I think it's regarded by most people - or atleast all people with an education past fifth grade - that things like the Jessica Simpson/Nick Lache (Lachey? Lachy? Lushay? We'll call it Lushay, I can't be bothered with looking these things up) relationship is a big thing of hooey.

I'm here to tell you otherwise. That's my challenge, but you probably think I don't have a chance in hell. Well, listen up, buddy. Prick up those ears. Because I do have a chance in hell! Welcome to:

Trent's Unholy Adventure and/or Chance In Hell!

Bam! Blam! Boooosh! And here we are! My Strange Machine that doesn't seem to do anything but type onomatopoeias has brought us to a world where your eyes are open, your interest is piqued, and your hearts are mine.

Actually, that emboldened area is not the title of this piece. As you can see, this is a weekly updated piece called Holy Hollywood! Every Friday, be prepared to taste the sweet nectar that is the illustrious town called Los Angeles or, in English, The City of Angeles!

But let's get right into this hill of unexplored fancy, shall we? As I said before, most people I know couldn't even sell a care, let alone lend or give one to Jessica Simpson or Nick Lashae following their break-up, whenever that was.

Why, if I was a betting man, or some sort of betting-man equivalent, like a professional wrestler, I'd probably even go so far as to say people who follow tabloid stuff like Jessica Simpson and Nick LaSalle don't put any real stock into it. It's like trying to see the back of your neck without the aid of mirrors. We all know it's a stupid thing to do, we all do it anyway, but God bless it if it ain't enjoyable and doesn't pass the time. No? Nobody else does that? Well...me neither.

Here's the truth, though, and it may shock you!! The extra exclamation point isn't a typo; I'm just attempting to show how shocking the next statement is going to be; be damned standard grammar rules regarding punctuation; for example, that's the third semi-colon I used in this sentence; I wonder how many I can get away with; I think the rule is you can only use one, but I'm pulling that grammar factoid out of my behind; alright, I'll stop; better not to meddle with the Grammar Gods.

The shocking point is this: Jessica Simpson and Nick LaShell are Important! Yes! Now, before we explode with insight, let's focus.

Think of it this way: ever see The Butterfly Effect? Awful, isn't it? Really, really bad. Now think of the actual concept: the Butterfly Effect. You fuck one thing up, it fucks up a million things. Whether or not you believe it's true doesn't matter. But it is true and here's why.

When Nick Latch-Key Kid and Jessica Simpson broke up, it started a tidal wave of hook-ups and break-ups. This first was quarantined in the wacky world of Hollywood. However, that ripple gets bigger, man. Pretty soon, we're talking all the way around California, then the West, then the Midwest. Before you know it, Nick and Jess just about fucked every relationship in the world!

That's why things like Us Weekly report these break-ups with such determination. Because Us Weekly is about us! If I feel like my hot mama and I are on the rocks, it would do me well to know what break-ups are happening in the break-up capital of the world.

When a break-up on the scope of Nick/Jess happens, it creates a giant wave; it's one larger than usual. Why is that? Well, when you're as big as Nick Lachad, you can get anyone you want. And if Nick just broke up with someone, he's gonna want some serious revenge sex. Now, how do you get enough revenge sex that it would equate the once future Mrs. Lushee? By having sex with over one hundred women.

That's one hundred women who may or may not have dumped somebody else for a chance to be with that studly Nick. Vice versa, Jessica Simpson is doing the same thing. That's a whole lot of new singles dating new people, causing new rifts, until it gets here. Right here in Chicago. And now my hot mama on the rocks wants off to explore new horizons. Well fuck me!

In a perfect world, we'd all be emotionally in tune with ourselves and wouldn't have to bother with significant others. However, that's not the case. Instead, I propose a very different solution: let's get them back together!

It'll be great! And romantic! And we can all have one less break-up to worry about in this hustle-and-bustle world of valentines and sex. Ever see The Parent Trap? Think of it that way except replace the word "parent" with "celebrity" and "trap" with "fellatio."

Then somebody - I'm looking at you, Trevor - will write up a fake apology letter for both parties, create a makeshift moonlight dinner and play the song that got them together in the first place...whatever that was. It was probably one of their own songs, honestly. But that's fine! They can sing it themselves! That's half the work we don't have to worry about.

That's why Jessica and Nick are important. That's why we have to follow their every move with such inane detail that our eyes bleed out tabloid-juice (or more commonly known as ink). Because, you see, if we don't, then your hot mama (or hot papa) could check out, too. And look at you, stuck with the bill, wishing you had picked up that new issue of Teen People.

Way to go, you. For once (but probably only once), elitism is not right.

Dig the new look?

2006-09-08T13:38:00.000-07:00

I do. I dig it like that gopher in Caddyshack, only I don't listen to Kenny Loggins*. Simon/Wasner is to thank for the excellent logo and The Doors are to thank for the name.

*Neither do conservationists with southern accents, who are rather opposed to loggin'.

And the blood on the streets is indeed up to someone's ankles. That someone is Jeff.

Who is Jeff? Jeff is a cat. A really fucking nasty sociopathic prick of a cat. Jeff is the star of the fantastically horrible website "What Jeff Killed". The website combines the charms of your kitten bringing terribly mutilated versions of God's creatures to your feet with the joy of obsessive blogging. Ever want to see a groundhog turned inside out? Or a cute little bunny-wunny doing an impression of Marie Antoinette? It's all there. God bless the wretched place we call the internet.

WARNING. THOSE LINKS LEAD TO REALLY DISTURBING PHOTOGRAPHS. NO, HONESTLY, IT'S PRETTY FUCKING GROSS. REALLY.

Special thanks to Martianman of the CHUD.com Message Boards for this find.

Et Tube, Brutus?

2006-09-06T21:02:00.000-07:00

youtube.com, we've all been. Best thing sinceslicedbread.com. Now, browsing youtube, I ran acrost this video of a guy who had taken a picture of himself, everyday for six years. It might not seem like it from the set, but he probably did blink during that time, but since I didn't want to miss a day in the life of Noah, I took it upon myself to engage him in a staring contest. Take the challenge yourself, and see how long you can go.

*Tip* Watch out, Noah is a sneaky bastard. It's like battling a norse god; he will move around, jump from background to background, slightly move forward and backward, change lighting, and even use creepy piano arpeggios to distract you but don't let him get into your head. I survived 4:15 out of 5:00 in the pit with Noah, so see if you can beat my score, earth-mortal. Deep breathing and widening the eyes is all the advice I can give to you. And it's a staring contest, so go right for his eyes.

Blue Sunday #1

2006-09-06T18:03:00.000-07:00

Simon here, author of beloved comics such as Calliope and... guess that's it, but you've never heard of Calliope anyway. I'll be the Peace Frog's webcomicist, and today I am introducing to you, humble readers, the first installment of a weekly comic called Blue Sunday. A new one will appear every Wednesday, but I'm sure you'll be checking this site several times a day anyway. So do enjoy this weekly ray of sunshine in your otherwise drab, unfunny lives.

Click the picture for a readable version.

The Burger King's Plantation

2006-09-06T12:56:00.000-07:00

I am a slave to Burger King, my fast food pusherman. Right now they are holding my happiness ransom, 5.19 at a time, with their edible Siren, the BK Quad Stacker. This monstrosity, forged by the most evil of hamburgular scientists, is a grotesque and delicious entity of bacon, beef, an almost cheese-like sauce, and the tears of a thousand tortured souls, and I can't get stop eating it.

I'm no longer even concerned with my health. I'm just trying to think of the best way to apologize to whoever is going to be carrying my coffin after my arteries inevitably burst, since it will contain what will surely end up being 400 pounds of greasy corpse.I'm not any expert on religion, but I know for a fact that eating one of these abominations displays a level of decadence that HAS to be a mortal sin. The pope hasn't made a statement on that yet and I doubt he will because I don't think the Pope eats at Burger King. I'm pretty sure he only eats fish, bread, wine, and Christ. Burger King only has two of those things, and it's not like his car could pass the 11' 6'' drive-thru clearance anyway.

Plus, Popes generally don't condone letting the general public "have it their way".

Welcome, Most Incredulous Reader!

2006-09-05T10:43:00.000-07:00

Just 5 minutes ago I was in my kitchen, eating bowl after bowl of delicious Reese's Puff cereal, wondering if Highlights magazine ever realised that both Goofus AND Gallant are really stupid names, when I realised that today was the day I had to introduce The Peace Frog to the world. It was a frightening thought, and I responded accordingly*.

*I'm pretty sure that was the last anyone ever saw of them, which is a shame because it'd suck to die with braces on. Have you ever seen a corpse with braces? Has there ever been a zombie movie where the zombie had braces?

You see, I don't know how to introduce this thing properly because I don't know what it is.

Jokes. Rants. A webcomic. Regular columns. Observations. Interviews with dead celebrities. The Peace Frog spearheads all of these issues the way a Stingray might spear an annoying Austalian in the chest.

Who is the Peace Frog, you might ask? Well, the Peace Frog consists of myself, Trent! Johnson?, Tony V.*, Tyler, and a webcomic by Simon.

*Sorry buddy, but your last name is too fucking hard to spell. I can't believe Ellis Island didn't catch that one.

Go ahead and stop in. Fun times are sure to follow. In what form that will be, only God knows, and as of last night he doesn't answer me when I pray ironically.