Archive for July, 2009

When Nightmares and Single Ladies Collide
July 20, 2009

It’s been well documented that clowns are universally despised and hated by anybody with the common sense to recognize that behind all those painted faces and put-on grins lies the root of all evil.

The “Single Ladies” dance is the absolute antithesis of clowns.  For starters, everyone loves that song.  Really, EVERYONE:

old people love single ladies

See?  Told you so!  Photoshopped pictures don’t lie, and that’s a fact!

Added to that, if you have even the vaguest inkling of rhythm and a dial-up internet access, it’s very likely that you too probably learned at least some of the dance as it exploded all over the pop-culture zeitgeist like nuclear bomb of insanely infectious fabulousness.

So what do you get when you cross the the undeniable creepiness that is a scary clown mask with 2008’s internet meme sensation?  You apparently get the following video, which is as utterly nightmarish as it is strangely compelling:

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Mother Benjamin’s No-Fail Cold Cure
July 20, 2009

Seeing as I was apparently in wont, life decided to give me a high five.  Oh, excuse me, I meant a cold.  Sweet.  Fortunately, though, my weekends are usually spent hidden away in my bedroom watching television and being a lazy ass, so this was no serious change of plans, save for the incessant hacking and sexy frog voice.  

Added to that, it got me thinking about my fool-proof, no-fail cold cure.  Seeing as I wasn’t a harbinger of the plague, and seeing as I prefer to save my special recipe for insta-health for the most brutal of colds, I didn’t actually resort to using it this weekend; nevertheless, that doesn’t mean I can’t blog about it.  Call it preventative blogging.  Or “Somebody’s clearly shit out of ideas this Monday morning.”  Either or is fine by me.

Anyways, my remedy is as easy as one, two, disease-free!  Seriously, step one:

chicken noodle stars

What’s simpler than popping open a can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup so you can start down your road to wellville?  NOTHING.  Though make sure to note that, in accordance with the above illustration, you get Chicken & Stars.  I’m not saying that the only soup that will effectively work is Chicken & Stars.  I’d imagine that the curative power of chicken soup transcends the shape of the noodle, but–like white diamonds for Elizabeth Taylor–Chicken & Stars has always brought me luck.  And, really, why then mess with success?

The real secret, however, lies in what you watch while consuming said Chicken & Stars while huddled under a mass of covers only to throw them off ten minutes later because you’re suddenly overcome with a nasty case of the fever sweats.  In these dark hours when your body feels as though it’s on a nightmarish crusade against your physical and emotional well-being, it’s important to have a cinematic experience that reminds you that you could in much worse shape.  Much, much worse (and grosser as well, so faint-of-heart and my mother beware):

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Is Sandra Lee is My New Favorite Food Lady?
July 17, 2009

Despite the fact that I’ve never met a meal I didn’t like (and I’ve even had the McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish, which probably says many a thing about my cast-iron stomach and my utter lack of any culinary sensibilities), I’m not a Food Network junkie.   This is particularly curious seeing as Food Network plays home to my Southern-fried soulmate, Paula Deen:

paula deen love

Seriously, this lady that advocates eating like heart-attacks are the new dogs-in-purses and speaks with an accent that’s thicker than sawmill gravy.  She’s completely crazy, but in the best way possible (i.e., with ample amounts of butter).  I was all but certain that my love for her could never be challenged, but–like the best laid schemes of mice and men–I had not anticipated witnessing the mind-altering brilliance that is this highly concentrated dose of Sandra Lee’s particular brand of insanity sauce:

Whoah-and-three-quarters, y’all.  Much of this video’s genius, admittedly, is in the editing.  It’s so perfectly executed that you begin to suspect that Sergei Eisenstein, the father of montage theory himself, would have kind words for the work displayed above.  That is, if he was still alive.  Or a zombie.

That all said, it doesn’t change the fact that Sandra Lee sounds like she might kill her parents with those incredible foodgasms she’s having.  Nor does it change the fact she really loves her cocktail time, and it certainly doesn’t change the fact the only thing she loves more than cocktail time is saying the world delicious.   Maybe I’m just gravitating to the magnetic pull of her feathered hair, or perhaps it’s something in the way that she says paprika, but all I know for certain is that she’s captivated the heart of this homo.  She’s giving Paula Deen a serious run in the favorite-food-lady department, and I think we know what this means:

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Jane Austen + Supernatural Creatures = Heaven
July 16, 2009

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a thing without zombies must be in want of zombies.  I firmly believe that.  For you see, I love zombies.  I pray daily that the Zombie Apocalypse will occur in my liftime; hopefully, when I still possess the majestic biceps that will enable me to wield a chainsaw with surgical precision.  Just ask Benji, with whom I spent many a lovely evening viewing such cinematic classics as Dead Alive and Dawn of the Dead.  They left many fond memories, and led to many a pithy a comment by Benji, though I must admit I was most amused by his reaction to 28 Days Later:  “Oh FUCK THIS! I did not sign on for fast zombies!!!”  While my love of zombies perhaps does not quite equal my love for Daniel Cudmore, it runs firmly and deep–just as a deep as my adoration for a certain Ms. Austen.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Clothed Piece of Deliciousness
July 16, 2009

It’s been ages and ages since I read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and I’m hardly the sort of obsessive Potterophile that remembers each and every character name like I’m in charge of student enrollment at Hogwarts, so it is perhaps a given that I don’t remember who Cormac McLaggen was or what he did to have any sort of relevance in the narrative.  I forget plenty of trivial details, be it in the Harry Potter universe or the real one, and I’m pretty terrible with names as is, but there’s one thing that I do no forget, and that’s deliciousness.  Freddie Stroma, the actor who plays Cormac McLaggen in HPatHBP, is such deliciousness:

freddie stroma shirtless

I’d put something pithy in pink on this picture, but I can’t help but feel like I’d be defacing a work of art.  That, and it’s really hard to think of pithy things when it’s vapors-o-clock on the dreamboat express.  I don’t care that I already had every intention of seeing Half-Blood Prince, and I certainly don’t care that Freddie Stroma will indubitably be more clothed throughout the entirety of his role as Cormac McLaggen.  His impeccably chiseled features have me all sorts of more excited about one of the few summer movies I was already super excited about, and I’m pretty certain my eyeballs will explode when I see him on the Imax.  No more eyeballs is just the price one must pay to witness such beauty, and I’m totally fine with that.  

And speaking of no more eyeballs, just look at this video of him back in his underwear modeling days of last year and try to keep those bad boys in their sockets:

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Benjamin’s Hard Hitting Questions: Which X-Man Would You Be?
July 16, 2009

Well, it seems that the nerd dams have burst ever since I’ve let Shmathan and Sharker contribute to the blog, but you won’t find me complaining.  Frankly, when there’s a party, I’m always inclined to join.  And, to be frank, nerd parties are something of which I know all too well.

In my youth, I could frequently be found pouring over comic books in my bedroom like a nerd boy in heat.  My tastes, admittedly, always ran a little queer: Obvious titles in the Marvel canon were always overtook by the more random and obscure ends of the Marvel universe.  I cut my comic book teeth on the parody series What The–?!Sleepwalker was my favorite title, and I gravitated to Generation X and the inspired artistry of Chris Bachalo over any other X spinoff.   These things happen.

Nevertheless, these colors don’t run and blahblahblah, so I’d be lying by omission if I didn’t admit to being a Marvel nerd.  Always have, and always will.  That was my closet, and here is my exit:

marvel.jpg

Trust me, the pink-letter editorialization merely obscures the beauty.  Enjoy, and let’s move on.

Anyways, all (nerd) things considered, this brings us to the real and most important question to ever be blogged: WHICH X-MAN WOULD YOU BE?  It’s deceptively simple to ask, but terribly complicated to answer.

For example, if you were Cyclops, you could accessorize in the most fabulous of ways:

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And Then There Were Three
July 15, 2009

I swear, y’all!  I go away for one extended weekend and suddenly this blog’s gone to shenanigans!  Shmathan’s stripping down and getting the vapors over some sort of beefcake (I must admit that I’m partial to Red Velvet, so he can have at that), Shmarker lost his blogging v-card with an impressive 2,000+ words of crazy (not a bad thing, but this is a blog and not James Joyce’s Ulysses), and I’m in the midst of a blog existential crisis: Am I still the gay blogger version of Emperor Palpatine?  I know there can be only two, but now I’ve got three!  DAMNIT!  Rules are rules, so I guess, it’s time to emulate bigger and badder bitches.  Like this mind-blowing piece of undeniable gorgeousness:

Heidi Fleiss

Yup, that’s right: Heidi “Hollywood’s Madam” Fleiss.  I figure that, if I’m gonna be running a veritable brothel of blogertainment, I might as well model myself after the epitome of class.  After all, it was Ms. Fleiss that educated us on Charlie Sheen’s great love for hookers.  If it weren’t for that bombshell, his marriage to Denise Richards would’ve never made any sense!

When you think about it, she’s the perfect role model.  She has a celebrated career in Hollywood, a keen entrepreneurial sense, and naturally stunning features.  She also makes excellent choices.

Oh, wait:

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Ranting and Raving about Captain America
July 15, 2009

–from Shmarker:

“Steve Rogers has come unstuck in time.”

Captain America Reborn 1 Alex Ross

Wait, don’t you mean Billy Pilgrim?  Or the Losties?  Mr. Brubaker, what is going on?

In March, 2007, Marvel Comics did the unthinkable, with no spoilers invading the internet until after the event happened: they killed an iconic comic book and pop-culture icon, one with almost 70 years of history.  After the events of their Civil War, Marvel Comics did the ballsy thing and continued with their political allegories masquerading as “funny pages”; they made an overt political statement by killing the embodiment of “America” as a character.  2007 marked the beginning of the final stretch of a controversial presidency, and Steve Rogers acted as Marvel’s reaction.  To Marvel Comics, the notion of America was dead.

There was no hype, like when Superman “died” at the hands of Doomsday or the banner running across Batman titles, telegraphing that he would be “RIP” (but HE’S unstuck in time, too!  However, he’s just in a prehistoric cave.  He’s not shifting in time).

captain-america-reborn-ap-marvel-comics

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Oh Noes! I’ve Got a Bad Case of the Pre-Half-Blood Prince Jitters!
July 14, 2009

(It’s okay; it’s not lethal.  The one symptom to look out for, however, is prolific blog writing and subsequent abuse of your best friend’s offer to guest write for his blog.  That can be deadly!)

Hello fellow Hornerites! Welcome to my first guest column for “NPBiaH.”  I’m Parker, and I could tell you a bit about myself, but I’d rather just jump right into the proverbial fire.

In the summer of 2005, when George Lucas was wrapping up his Star Wars hot mess and four teen girls were sharing a pair of pants on the big screen, the biggest blockbuster was not in theatres across the country but rather in bookshops across the world.  No, this is not hyperbole.  This was, at the time, the largest release of a book, ever, brought to the world courtesy of one J.K. Rowling.  The penultimate book in her Harry Potter series benefited from a six-month pre-release hype, with bookstores promising to remain open until after midnight so that they could meet fans’ demand of devouring the book before anyone could possibly spoil it.  The enigmatic title (Who, or what, is the Half-Blood Prince?  What will this mean for Harry?) met speculation, along with the perennial unanswered questions that run throughout the book (Will Hermione finally snog Ron?  Will there be more Quidditch?  When will the final battle occur?  Will there be another large death in this book?  From, you know, an actual MAIN character this time?  Will Hedwig remain my favorite character, despite my hatred of birds?  Will Oliver Wood finally pop off the page and profess his love for me?).  From this point on in my review, put on your SPOILER glasses (AKA, don’t read anything after the jump if you have not read Half Blood Prince!)

HarryPotterHalfBloodPrinceBook

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GDI…now I’m actually going to have to see “New Moon”
July 14, 2009

By Shmathan…

My general disdain for Twilight is well known.  However, there is such a thing as an irresistible force, a force so great that it overcomes anything that stands in its way.  In this case, such a force exists in the form of a compulsion brought on by the confluence of my gaiety and geekery.  One against which even my antipathy toward Stephanie Meyer cannot stand…

Let me start at the beginning, which falls far outside the Twilight universe  and exists in the rosy years of childhood.  When I was but a mischievous little  homo-to-be of 8 years old, I began to collect comic books, Marvel comics specifically.  I began with the basics.  Spiderman. Avengers. Fantastic Four.  And, of course, the X-Men.  The year was 1991.  That magical year when Chris Claremont and Jim Lee launched the 3rd Age of the X-Men by launching the new X-Men series, which would run concurrently with the long-running Uncanny X-Men title.  The former would feature the adventures of the “Blue” team (Cyclops, Beast, Wolverine, Gambit, Psylocke, and Rogue) while the latter would feature the exploits of the “Gold” team (Storm, Jean Grey, Colossus, Archangel, Iceman).  I was hooked, and read both series religiously.  I also began seeking out the stories of the thirties years prior, and as I delved into the history of the Mutant Team Supreme, I noticed something just a little bit odd.

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Benjamin’s Blogging Timeliness on Summer Holiday
July 12, 2009

Has it seemed curiously dark on your favorite blog stomping grounds?  Has the lack of pop culture bitchery and glittery flamboyance left you going through blog withdrawal, the waves of unimaginable chills only to be followed by prolonged sensations that nothing is ever going to be hysterically dissected by a cranky gay man EVER AGAIN?  If so, I’m sorry.  I’ve been busy:

summer vacation.jpg

Yes, in my grand tradition of perfect blog timeliness, I must admit that my parents have been visiting.  Since Thursday.  It’s been trips to see the lesser sights and sounds of New York City, and so many delicious meals made all the more delicious by the fact that I haven’t had to cover the tab.  And now, as Madonna has always said, we need a holiday, and this little lady’s off to Hampton Bay.

It’s a land without wi-fi or even the internet.  In short, I’m heading off to the Stone Age, but with adorable cabins.  Trust me, I suspect this’ll be harder for me than it is for you.  Fortunately, I’ll be back midweek, at which point the crazy gears will be well rested and the blog machine will be back in action for maximum ridiculousness.

In the mean time, I leave with a trailer for the second most exciting thing happening this week.  After, of course, my return:

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Lindsay Lohan (Allegedly) Makes Good Choices
July 9, 2009

Yesterday, a rather delectable piece of gossip hit the interwebs.  Celebitchy, which picked up the story via Page Six, reported that Lindsay Lohan refused the role of Jade, the stripper who marries Ed Helms, in The Hangover.  Yes, THE The Hangover, as in the smash summer comedy that invariably proves that nothing is cuter than babies sunglasses:

hangover baby in sunglasses

Fortunately, this summer, after many a delay, Ms. Lohan’ll be bringing us Labor Pains, her own log to contribute to the raging fire that is America’s baby craziness.  Sure, it’s not getting a theatrical release, or even a straight-to-video release (at least until later this fall), but it is getting an ABC Family world television premiere, and that HAS to be something:

Shut.  Your.  Face.  “I’m better when I’m pregnant” is an actual line in ANY movie EVER?  I will never forgive myself if I do not DVR this baby-bump-riddled train wreck because I absolutely have to see this, but I’m also quite certain that, should I watch more than five consecutive minutes at a time, my brain will be liquified by the bad idea waves irradiating out of this…this thing.

I get that they’re the station that finds drama in the possibility that any one of the perfectly timed thrusts in your incredible sex life could very well spell disaster for your parents, so I’d never actually accuse them of having things like taste or good decision making skills, but ABC Family proclaims this one of their “Original Movies” with some sort of sense of pride?  Isn’t that kinda like proudly keeping your back-alley abortion in a mason jar on your coffee table because you want it to be a conversation piece at all your cocktail parties?  This shit is bleak, and the full trailer is (impressively) even bleaker:

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Internet Spoilers: 1, Orphan Ad Campaign: A Bajillion
July 8, 2009

Well, if this internet commenter’s supposed spoiler is to be revealed, lil’ oprhan Esther’s secret is out of the bag, and it’s even more batshit insane than I could’ve ever anticipated.  I won’t explicitly discuss the details, but I’ll say this: It’s honestly such an impressively thought-out, completely out-of-nowhere sort of twist that I believe it.  And want to see this movie immediately so I can confirm its validity.  Not since the phrase “non-religious identical twin stigmata” has an ending scaled such heights of so-bad-it’s-brilliant absurdity.   Seriously, y’all, it’s so damn trashtastically awful that it’s pretty much seals the deal: Orphan is destined for of camp/cult/bad horror movie greatness.  

On one hand, if it’s true, I’ll be terribly disappointed to not have such a wonderfully gonzo revelation dropped in my lap in the final moments of the film.  But on the other hand:

orphan secret

No, poster, obviously the interwebs cannot keep a secret.  In the age of the internet, nobody can keep their trap shut to save their damn life, and it’s a rather brilliant move on the part of Orphan‘s marketing campaign to sell a film all around a climactic narrative reveal in a time where spoilers are all but anticipated.  When you think about it, it’s a clever spin on an old advertising tradition. (more…)

Hollywood: Put This Fan-Made 2012 Trailer in Theaters and You Will Sell All the Tickets
July 8, 2009

It’s still months away, but the excitement continues on:

2012 so excited

For realsies.  Whenever I so much as think about Roland Emmerich’s cinematic masterpiece of 110% visionary CGI craziness that will be  2012, I feel like a woman on the receiving end of terrible sex (which we all know helps keep you parents alive), and all I want to do is scream, “Can’t you just come already?”  And, of course, today has to just be another nail in my impatience grave.

Here’s a fan-made trailer for 2012 that reenvisions the film as another entry in the 70s disaster film trend, and then it ups the ante by deliberately reveling in the absurdity of the film’s numerous plot points.  I suggest watching it with a pair of adult diapers because it’s quite likely you’ll LOL your pants:

I’m quite well aware that this video is intended to satirize and revel in the fact that the plot points of action sequences of 2012 are nothing more than utter ridiculousness run amok.  I got it, y’all.  I wasn’t born in the obvious barn yesterday; nevertheless, aren’t you now infinitely more excited about seeing a movie for which your excitement was already approaching infinity (yes, that’s a math joke; yes, i’m a nerd)?  I know I am.

Quite frankly, Hollywood should take notes and start marketing their movies more like this.  Given how disastrous (pun for once actually not intended) most movies actually are, it’d be lovely to see the Studios quit with the snake oil sales pitches and just honestly sell us the garbage just as it is.

Then again, if you watch the official trailer again (even though I know you’ve watched it enough times to have it memorized), it seems pretty clear that Columbia knows exactly what they’re selling us:

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From the Network that Brought You Patricidal Sex…
July 7, 2009

Shmathan is again displeased…

00025173

After learning that ABC Family is teaching a generation of young girls that having sex will kill your parents, I was curious to see what else this network had to offer America’s impressionable youth.  What I discovered enraged me. It seems that tonight the network will premier its newest “original” series, 10 Things I Hate About You; the newest pop culture abomination to make Ben’s Do Not Want list and my ever-growing catalog of Catastrophes.  I do not suffer this news gladly.

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A Guide to the Red-Band Jennifer’s Body Trailer For People That Don’t Care About Megan Fox’s Boobs
July 7, 2009

Have you seen the red-band trailer for Jennifer’s Body, which sells us Diablo Cody’s teen horror film by emphasizing the cursing and Megan Fox’s boobs?  Oh, and Megan Fox being teasingly “bisexual”?  Maybe it’s me, I can’t help but think Showgirls did the boobs and bisexuality so much better and with so much less Megan Fox.  Fortunately, I think the rest of us (and by rest of us, I mean people lacking an interest in Megan Fox and/or her boobs) still have plenty to be excited about.

For starters, there’s Amanda Seyfried:

amanda seyfried mean girls best

And she’s been the best since her scene-stealing turn in Mean Girls, and it’s simply a matter of time before she finally blows up.  She infinitely appealing and incredibly versatile (I believe her dumb blond every bit as much as her high school outcast), and this could be the breakthrough she deserves.  After all, Jamie Lee Curtis–the original Final Girl–made it big with Halloween.  For those of us who appreciate women or character and substance, she’s the Jennifer’s Body (Final) girl to watch.

And what about a generation’s nostalgia for a certain West-Coast based teen soap?  Jennifer’s Body has got the goods IN SPADES:

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The Final Poster for The Ugly Truth Gives Me a Headache
July 6, 2009

Sometimes I editorialize images I find on the internet with pithy comments in pink letters.  But sometimes there’s an image that  speaks entirely for itself.  Such is the case of the final poster for The Ugly Truth, which I spotted on the streets while walking to the bank this afternoon:

ugly truth final poster

Yes, ladies and gents, it speaks for itself, and it says, “UGH.”  Even though this is essentially the same thing as the teaser poster (but now with actors),it’s still an embarrassment to anyone with a brain.  Or genitals.

Women love love, so Katherine Heigl’s holding her heart as an object unto itself.  And men love sex, so Gerard Butler’s holding his heart over his business while he lustily smirks at Katherine Heigl.  The lesson?  Men love you to take a ride on their discostick, so do it now in order to make them like you, ladies.  Don’t worry that this probably means they’re emotionally unavailable Neanderthal man-children; just give them a trip down your tunnel of love, and the sparks will be flying!

Look, I fully understand that movies like The Ugly Truth are intended to be light-hearted comedies that deliberately embrace tired gender stereotypes as opposed to having the creativity or intelligence required in saying something innovative about how men and women emotionally and romantically connect, but this Gender Wars 101 bullshit is the dead horse that’s been so thoroughly beaten that all you’ve got in front of you is a bucket of glue.  Never mind the trailer; this poster is so boring I damn near had a narcoleptic fit on Sixth Avenue.

More importantly, though, is how incredibly misogynistic these reductive gender politics are.

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NEWS: Leighton Meester’s Got a New Song; YouTube Commenters Still the Classiest
July 6, 2009

We all know that you aren’t really someone until you’ve dabbled in having your own music career.  It’s a universal truth.  After all, Heidi “My Personal Source of Eternal Schadenfreude” Montag is a somebody, and she’s obviously known for “Sex Ed,” which–in anticipation of the impending end of the world in 2012— has impressively already won the Summer Jam  of the Millenium award.  Really, you can never be too quick when recognizing talent.

Anyways, we can now officially say that Leighton Meester, Gossip Girl‘s very own Blair Waldorf, is now a someone as well.  Her song is called “Body Control,” and I’ve been listening to it ad nauseam all morning because I love Blair Waldorf.  And I can’t figure out why I like it.  And I have no self-respect:

WORK IT, GIRL!  After a bajillion listens, I think I finally understand why I’m behind this song.

I like to imagine that this isn’t Leighton Meester herself, but a leaked song intended for the Gossip Girl season 3 plot line where Blair, à la Lady Gaga, drops out of NYU to pursue a career as a pop-musician/performance artist.  All that Auto-Tune you hear would be a deliberate part of her act, a post-humanization of the voice (i.e., self) meant to explore new conceptualizations of identity brought about by the proliferation of information in the age of text-messaging, the internet, and the brave new world that is Gossip Girl.  

Her back up dancers would look sorta like the robot from Metropolis, and they’d do Nomi-Malone-esque dances while dressed in fabulous trench coats with perfectly accessorized head bands.  I mean, I probably don’t have to tell you how amazing that would be because you already know how amazing that that would be, but it would be TOTALLY AMAZING!  Just think about it: Blair-Bots?  You know you love it, xoxo.

While my reaction may look like an OD on crazy pills, we fortunately also have YouTube commenters, those torchbearers of intelligent cultural discourse and general classiness.   They have taken to message boards to add their own two-cents and remind us what the rest of the world is thinking:

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Warning: Incredible Sex Kills
July 4, 2009

We interrupt your 4th of July Festivities to bring you an important public service announcement.  We have long known of the traditional risks associated with sexual intercourse such as  HIV and other STIs, premarital pregnancy,  and awkward morning-after conversations.  But today, it has been announced that there is an even greater danger:  having sex  can kill your father.  This shocking news was recently delivered by Dr. Annoying Blonde-Girl from the Derivative Family Drama Institute, who must be some kind of all-knowing sexologist given that she speaks with such authority.  Her shocking report, after the jump.

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Hot Dogs: The Most Important Component of Independence Day
July 4, 2009

I’m as serious as a hot-dog-binge-induced heart attack, y’all.  Hot dogs, those decadent poor-man’s sausages comprised of animal parts that I refuse to consider because I’d rather not have to ever have to acknowledge that I find processed pig anus to be painfully delicious, are totally where it’s at:

HotDogMustard

Mmmm, I’m already hungry for six of those bad boys.  Maybe it’s the way the ketchup and mustard and pickle relish and onions mingle with the piping hot juiciness of the frank and the doughy goodness of the bun.  Maybe I’m just going into withdrawal as I’ve realized that the wedding I’m going to tonight probably will be too classy to serve hot dogs.  Or perhaps I’ve just lost my damn mind (as usual).  Whatever the cause, right now I want hot dogs like Nomi Malone wants to dance.  And not in the innuendo way.

Don’t even try to fool yourself into believing the hamburger is a more American culinary institution.  There is nothing American about a beef patty that’s named after German city.  Clearly, assuming the hamburger is more inherently American is quite simply anti-hot-dog propaganda.  It’s falsities about frankfurters!  Don’t believe the lies!

Think about it:  All you have to do is put hot dog in one hand and a sparkler in the other and you’ll look like you were born to celebrate July 4th.  People will be like, “Damn, girl, you’s all set to celebrate our independence from British rule the alien invasion!”  Bill Pullman, America’s greatest fake President, knows exactly what I’m talking about:

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