A Fool's Errands (Monday, 9/28/09)

1) Throw him the idol. When you know damn well he's never going to throw you the whip.

2) Add new baby to cast of your aging sit-com.

3) Have golden opportunity ... then refrain from punching Michael Bay square in the nuts.

4) Power-wash the patio.

5) You've got the washer rented for another hour yet. Power-wash your junk. Just to see.

*SPECIAL BONUS ERRAND*

6) Go to Switzerland, accept Career Achievement Award for Child Rape.

Adventures In Urinating

Are you a lady? Ever wonder what happens behind the mysterious door of the Men's Room? These recycled Twitter posts should help clear things up.

Just got the dirtiest look in the restroom for not washing my hands. Chill, dude. I didn't need to. I missed my fingers.

Disapproving looks in the men's room. It's like these people have never seen a guy leave the stall while eating a Sloppy Joe before.

More disapproving looks in the men's room. I can't POSSIBLY be the only one in this entire office who eats unwrapped Baby Ruths in here.

I don't know ... maybe it's the lemonade they don't like.


Disapproving looks in the men's room. Guys, there's nothing wrong with dropping your pants all the way to the floor at the urinal.

Also, that dance I was doing was a religious thing.

Though I really don't have a reason for the pom-poms. Sometimes I just like to be encouraging.

Dirty looks in the mens' room for not washing hands. Hey, if you guys think my junk is SO filthy ... (con't)

(Con't) ... that I need to wash my hands after touching it, then you won't mind if I skip the middleman and sink-wash my junk. Scoot over


Till next we meet ...

A Fool's Errands (Monday, 9/21/09)

1) Clear wood-chipper jam. From inside.

2) Two words ... Shark Rodeo!

3) Ask Suzanne Somers if she can recommend a good oncologist.

4) Clean gutters.

5) Continue being Glenn Beck.

BINGO!!

I think there's a very good chance that this particular graffiti artist regularly gets his ass kicked by a girl who draws unicorns on her notebooks.


If your handle is "BINGO!!" and you sign the "o" with a peace sign ... you really need to be using sparkly, day-glow paint.

Also, you may want to get home because My Little Pony is about to start.



Till next we meet ...

Dear Captain Obvious ...

I'm very glad that even in this bad economy ...



... that you've been able to find work.



Because we NEEDED a sign in that particular spot.

A sign people could read with their eyes.

You know, the same eyes that they presumably could also use to see ... THAT THE END OF THE GODDAMN PLATFORM IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE!


Till next we meet ...

A Fool's Errands (Monday, 9/14/09)

1) Save money and time with convenient in-home self-circumcision kit.

2) Pop Rocks + soda + a whole shitload of heroin.

3) Pay for ticket to All About Steve, then sneak into different showing of ... All About Steve.

4) Get haircut.

5) See that rhino over there? Go punch it in the nuts.

Uh-Oh.

Flowers have arrived from space.

I think someone is clearly trying to steal my woman.


If it's Captain Kirk, I'm totally boned.

Though I suppose there's a chance they may not be from space.

They could be from Dr. Seuss.

But if that's the case, I'm still boned.

He IS a doctor, after all.

And I just can't compete with that.



Till next we meet ...

Biscuit?

They're fresh.



Till next we meet.

Thank You, Elevator

Somehow that's strangely comforting.



Everything's going to be fine.

I feel reassured.

Especially given today's date.

Thanks, Elevator. Seriously.



Till next we meet ...

Dear Guy on the Escalator Behind Me

Commuting! I don't have to tell you, it's a blast! Interacting with your fellow man? Mingling with the best and brightest? It's a privilege, I tell you! A PRIVILEGE!

Here are a few recycled Twitter posts to prove it.

Dear Guy Behind Me on the Escalator: STOP sighing. I'm not climbing. It's an ESCALATOR. If I wanted to climb stairs, I'd have taken the stairs.

Dear Guy Behind Me on the Escalator: Perhaps you haven't heard, escalators were invented for the lazy, not the over-aggressive and douchey.

Dear Guy Behind Me on the Escalator: Keep sighing and I'll show you how my fist was invented for your goddamn nuts.

Wait a second ... Holy crap! Maybe the escalator WAS originally invented for your goddamn nuts!

Till next we meet ...

Head Knobs and Broom Sticks

It's really THERE, people! It's time to stop deceiving yourselves!

Perhaps these recycled Twitter posts will help you see things more clearly.

Jean Claude Van Damme has a permanent and pronounced knot on his forehead the size of a doorknob.

OH MY GOD! IT'S RIGHT GODDAMN THERE! WHY IS NOBODY ELSE SEEING THIS?!

JCVD's headknob is invisible until someone points it out. After that, you'll NEVER be able to stop staring at it. You're welcome.

AM I TAKING CRAZY PILLS?! YOU SEE THAT THING, RIGHT?!

JCVD's headknob has haunted me for years. Now it shall haunt you, too. I am no longer alone. We are connected now, you and I.


Till next we meet ...

Conspiracy Theory

U.S. Senator Arlen Specter ...



Could he be made entirely of ear wax?

Shadowy forces don't want you to know the Truth.



Till next we meet ...

The Photo Shoot

PHOTOGRAPHER: Now if you could just look over--

ACTOR: Is it okay that I did my own make-up?

PHOTOGRAPHER: What?

ACTOR: My make-up.

PHOTOGRAPHER: Your--?

ACTOR: Is it all right? I mean, I didn't know if this was the look you were envisioning, and I wasn't sure if there would be someone here to do it ...

PHOTOGRAPHER: You're wearing make-up?

ACTOR: I was going for a kind of dreamy-but-realistic look. A look that says my character is looking toward the future but ALSO has his feet planted firmly on the ground ...

PHOTOGRAPHER: Look kid, I don't know what they told you. It's just a local ad for the hospital that's two blocks away--

ACTOR: I realize how important make-up can be to the photographer's craft and I didn't mean to overstep any professional bounds, so I REALLY hope you're not offended ...

PHOTOGRAPHER: I couldn't give two shits. Honestly--

ACTOR: I know all about stage make-up. Because I've had extensive experience in dinner theater.

PHOTOGRAPHER: Sure thing, kid--

ACTOR: I thought I'd use a similar look to the one I used when I appeared in Cabaret at the Highland Park Community Center last summer. The Rt. 1 Weekly Clipper raved that I was "off-book."

PHOTOGRAPHER: Uh-huh--

ACTOR: I think the white pancake base and dark eyeliner really bring out my eyes. Also, I really love The Cure. Have you ever heard of The Cure? How about Emo Phillips? I could add more mascara ...


ACTOR: Does the hair work for you? I cut it myself. I was going for "kicky." Is my lipstick okay? I wanted to make sure they're nice and red ...

PHOTOGRAPHER: Kid, I already took the picture.

ACTOR: Beg pardon?

PHOTOGRAPHER: We're done here.

ACTOR: We're--?

PHOTOGRAPHER: Done, yes.

ACTOR: Oh.

(pause)

ACTOR: Did you need to take another one?

PHOTOGRAPHER: No.

(pause)

ACTOR: Are you sure?

(pause)

ACTOR: Hello?


Till next we meet ...

A Fool's Errands (Monday, 9/7/09)

1) Send bank info to that nice Nigerian prince.

2) Organize all-day Uwe Boll Film Festival.

3) Drano Shooters.

4) Drop off kids at skating rink for play date.

5) Buy giant magnet and rubber band, try that Wile E. Coyote thing.

You Be The Judge ...

Nap? Or crime scene?

The eternal question.


Till next we meet ...

My Caveman Playlist: Update

Okay, Interwebs ... I still need your help.

As you may remember, I'm on the lookout for songs for my Caveman Playlist.

To review: http://robbbadlam.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-caveman-playlist.html

I'm looking for bassy, thumpy, raw, stripped down songs. Primal stuff you could stomp around a fire to. Any genre will do, though strong rhythm is a must.

Only the fattest beats will do.

Here's what I've got so far. Some tasty selections.

"Grounds for Divorce" - Elbow
"Dog Door" - Tom Waits
"Filipino Box Spring Hog" - Tom Waits
"Make it Rain" - Tom Waits
"The Tower That Ate People" (Remix from "Hit") - Peter Gabriel
"Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing" - Chris Isaak
"Tuff Enough" - The Fabulous Thunderbirds
"Name of the Game" - Crystal Method

Okay, now it's your turn. What am I missing?

Suggestions?

Till next we meet ...

Sure, THIS Year We Kinda Didn't "Win" ...

Okay, fine. It was ugly. We lost.

We got our asses beat.

Hard.

Despite having what I thought were two pretty serviceable videos. (http://robbbadlam.blogspot.com/2009/07/love-democracy-then-you-should-vote-for.html)

But that milk is long spilled. No further tears shall be shed over it.

Anyhow, LAST year, we totally WON!

So, to make myself feel better, I thought I'd post a little blast from the past for your potential enjoyment. Here are my 2008 spots for the Sideshow Collectibles "Make Our Commercial" contest. The second of which ended up taking the top prize.

I apologize in advance for my fatness.

Here's the cleverly titled "Sideshow Freak #1" ...

And here's the eventual contest winner, "Sideshow Freak #2" ...

It was the first year of the contest and I thought the prize was pretty swell: $750 in cash and $250 in gift certificates.

Well, I thought it was swell until they offered a free trip for two to ComiCon to the winner the following year.

You know ... the year we didn't win. That year.

Sorry.

Milk. Spilled. Bitching. Ceased.

Okay. Better now.




Bastards.

Till next we meet ...

Can A Sister Get Some Melanin?

It's time we all got together and did some good in this world. It's time we all gave something back to someone who really deserves it.

Like Julianna Margulies.

And what should we give her?

Pigment. Lots of it.

See, I've been seeing posters for the new Julianna Margulies show all over NYC lately. And I'm concerned about her.

Why?

Because, apparently, her skin does not naturally produce pigmentation of any kind. Seriously, Julianna. You're making albinos look like George Hamilton.

Juilanna, the CBS Marketing department has decided you're the color of newsprint. You don't see a problem there?

Could we all maybe take up a collection and get this woman some melanin?

I'm a bit swarthy myself. I'd be glad to donate if it would make Juilianna look less like the sun-bleached skeleton of Edgar Winter's paler sister.

Look into your heart, America. Or at least into your epidermis.


Till next we meet ...

Are You Old?

Worried you might be slipping inexorably into the great yawning abyss of mortality? Here are a few recycled Twitter posts that might help you assess your level of risk.

How To Tell When You're Old: When you don't recognize a single "celebrity" on Extra.

How To Tell When You're Old: When the thought occurs to you that that Jamie Lee Curtis pooping yogurt might not be such a bad idea.

How To Tell When You're Old: When you find yourself giving a shit about zoning laws.

How To Tell When You're Old: When you suddenly discover you have an opinion about yarn.

How To Tell When You're Old: When your favorite Phil Collins mix tape finally breaks.

"Sussudio, muthafuckas!"

How To Tell When You're Old: When you follow a drug commercial's directions and ask your doctor if it's right for you.

How To Tell When You're Old: When you consider Just For Menning your chest hair.

How To Tell When You're Old: When, after you've Just For Menned your chest hair, you look further down ... then reach for the box again.


Till next we meet ...

Some People Find Jesus on a Toasted Cheese Sandwich

Me?

I found Master Shake on the floor of the handicapped stall of the 14th floor men's room of the HBO building at 42nd and 6th.

Worship with me, why don't you.

Till next we meet ...