Uwe Boll: Germany's answer to Roger Corman.

Why are there no decent movies coming out on my birthday? Instead of decent flicks, like the new Tommy Lee Jones movie or "Robots," I get shitfests like "Ring Two" and "Ice Princess," which is some feel-good Disney fantasy starring Michelle Trachtenburg and Kim Cattrall, who was the slutty, VD-infected one from the feminist "Sex in the City." Somehow, I missed how 4 women fucking their way through all the available men in the greater New York City is supposed to make women this force to reckoned with in terms of feminism, but then again, I have a penis and girls have a vagina.
And that's not to say I wasn't a fan of this show. I loved it. The only porn my father bought willingly. I sat through 6 goddamn seasons of an HBO show that was never a good idea on paper, let alone on celluloid. The most I got out of this show is the tired argument that men can fuck around all we want too, while women have to be prudes or their known as whores and sluts. And this show is supposed to teach them otherwise? I watched this show and thought to myself, "well, now I know who's easy in L.A. and will spread their legs at the drop of a hat." And other men who watched it probably thought something like, "hey, if I tell women I watch this show, they'll fuck me!"
Somehow I don't think that's the message the creators were going for.
And I skipped "Family Guy" last night to watch "House of the Dead." Why? Because I'm a fucking idiot, is why. Everytime I watch it, I wonder two things: one, why the fuck am I watching this pile of vomitious excrement? And two, who the fuck is goddamn retarded enough to actually think that their are a group of islands outside of SEATTLE FUCKING WASHINGTON that have been named the San Juan islands?
These are not people I have a lot of confidence in. I sat and watched it for like, the 3rd time last night, and thought to myself, "OK, this is Clint Howard in it. If that's not a sign to stay the fuck away from this movie, and I use that word loosely, then I dunno what is."
At point, this black girl with the dick-sucking lips is talking to a male model, who's face has been burned away by an acid-spitting zombie. Yeah, I can't make this up, no amount of drugs could bring this sight to my eyes. And so the guy is like, "are you doing this for me?" 'Cause the girl was doing the whole romantic thing that for some reason, still happens when you're in times of crisis. And her reply is, "I'm doing this for me."
Which to me seems slightly...rude. I'd be like, "hey bitch, which one of us has a goddamn hole in the middle of his fucking cheek? That's right, me. Why not drink a nice tall glass of shut the fuck up and put those DSL's to good use? The big-tittied bitch with the tie-down shirt is too busy getting ready for good ol' ex-sex."
Of course, that's just me. I'm different.

Video and shitty programming killed the radio star.

I was born in 1982, one year after MTV, a.k.a Music Television (nobody ever said this channel was original and creative), was introduced to the world. Therefore, I am a member of the MTV generation, which sucks, if you ask me. I don't completely hate the channel, it's had some decent, not great mind you, decent programming on throughout its 20-odd year run. "Beavis & Butthead," "Daria," and a very select few of the reality shows they've run into the ground are the only ones I can think of.
I find it ironic that when this channel was created, and its general idea was to show music videos, it came at a time in which there were literally very few videos to show.
Fast forward a few years, and musicians are realizing the best way to be seen and heard is on MTV, and now more and more musicians are producing videos.
In fact, for MTV, from it's 1981 inception to about 1988, MTV was the pinnacle of what it set out too be. "Old School MTV," as it were, was cutting edge, it was harsh, it was creative and bold and daring! It was created to show the Establishment of television that there was a new wave of producers and execs, a wave that wanted to show the kids music. Loud, abusive tunes, which was also ironic, since the only videos they had in 1981 were Duran Duran and Rod Stewart, wherein loud and abusive tunes weren't the norm.
But by the time 1989 rolled around, MTV had become what it is today, and that is a soft, bland teeny-bopper's image of the whore that is the music industry. It began to become filled with insipid programming, boring veejays that were always dressed to the nines in swimsuits, sandals and no shirts if they were men. The women were in bikinis, or very little else. The videos were no longer picked by the lovers of rock or rap, but by the pretty, rich, white surburban that mostly hailed from Long Island, because the videos made by the Beastie Boys and NKOTB spoke to them and helped them get through the rough patch in their life, the rough patch being mommy and daddy taking away their allowance after the little bastard child called up some 1-900 number so they could hear the recorded voices of the pop stars they so desperately wanted to be like. Never mind the fact that they owned 80 albums by the same group, they needed to hear those recorded voices.
I can agree to the fact that music can help through rough patches in one's life, but these people never knew true hardship. It's an insult and a slap in the face to those that truly know shitty times to claim that N*SYNC and the Backstreet Boys helped some Manhattan-ite teeny-bopping cunt through some tough time.
In 1989, MTV became more about what they thought was hip and cool TV shows. The reason being was because by this time, 8 years since conception, anybody who watched MTV was considered cool, and the coveted table in the cafeteria was always filled with the kids who had seen the latest Micheal Jackson video or had seen Madonna simulate fucking in front of a shocked audience. Awards shows began popping up, as did original programming that involved game shows, reality shows, sitcoms, movies, and the occasional music video.
And since so many kids watched MTV, the music industry couldn't help but take notice. They had to follow suit in order to make the almighty buck. And unfortunately for some of us, that trend led to the boy bands and bubble gum pop princesses of today, even though that trend has worn off by a considerable amount in the past few years. Clones of each other and clones of an earlier generation of the pop idols, the one hit wonders who would never be seen or heard from again.
By the time 1993 had rolled around, MTV had become more television than music. It's said that they did this because they were in a downward spiral in the ratings, and as such, sold themselves to Viacom, a media super giant that owns Blockbuster, Nickelodeon, TNN, and Showtime, just to name a few of the channels. But one could say that MTV sold out (indirectly, really) to the TV Establishment that they originally never wanted to be like.
Now, I don't have a problem with them showing all TV shows and very little music videos, persay. Especially considering that they now have MTV2, which is strictly music videos. No, my problem with them having strict TV shows and very little music videos is that they take an idea, any decent idea, and run it into the ground. Don't believe me? I present the evidence to you in the form of each genre, wherein the title of the show that got the ball rolling, and the titles of the shows that are thinly-veiled carbon copies.
Reality Shows: "The Real World," a show that had 7 people living together in a house they could never fucking afford to show what happens when people stop being polite and start being real. "Road Rules," the same concept, only in a Winnebago, and they do wacky, exciting challenges that test the endurance and strength of the losers they picked. If you watch the shows, you'll notice that the residents living in the houses and the Winnie are pretty much the same stereotypes of the rich, white, surburban audience that watches the channel. Puck, from the Real World, and Pedro, also from the Real World, were the two most realistic people on either show.
"The Osbournes" begat "The Newlyweds," who begat "The Ashlee Simpson Show" who begat...you get the picture.
Hidden Camera Shows: "Buzzkill" was the grandfather of "Punk'd," which had such success, they now have a show called "Boiling Point," which is essence, the exact same show that "Buzzkill" was, albeit with a different title.
White People Acting Like They Can Dance, And They Really Can't: Pretty much the majority of their programming, even though one specific show got that ball rolling.
The hidden camera shows are the worst, since apparently, there's a group of people on this planet that enjoy watching people on hidden cameras. My friend Sarah said this could be a controversial post. I asked her why, but she said she didn't know. I know why. Because people don't like it when it's pointed out to them that they are nothing more thank fucking sheep, sheep who watch what they're told to watch, sheep that think it's still hip and cool to watch MTV. But it's not. Nowadays, the less MTV you watch, the cooler you are to the morons who watch the channel religiously. And it's not to say that MTV sucks complete and total ass.
I just really wish I weren't part of the MTV generation.

Our only hope for survival is to huddle together for warmth.

There are cool ways to go meet the Good Lord. Then there are SHITTY ways to go meet the Good Lord. And by shitty, we're not just talking about pain. We're talking about suffering until your last breath. And by coolness, we're talking about ways that you still suffer until your last breath, but holy shit, you went out with a smile on your face. And either way you go, you'll have a story to tell when you get to Heaven or Hell, whichever you prefer. Like hitting an iceberg. In the Gulf of Mexico. And getting eaten by a shark.
THAT'S a fucking story my friends. So I've compiled the top 5 best ways to die and the top 5 worst ways to die.

BEST WAYS TO DIE:

5. Getting eaten by a grizzly bear that you've drunkenly thought you could beat up while out in the woods on a camping trip with your buddies that served as nothing but an excuse for massive amounts of drinking and blatant homo-erotic fondling that will lead to years worth of questions and an eventual trip to the mountaintop for them. The best part? You'll know first hand to the age old question, "do bears shit in the woods?"

4. Being killed by Darth Vader in a kick-ass lightsaber fight in which you will only become more powerful.

3. Going to Whataburger and eating 12 double cheeseburgers and washing all of that down with a few gallons of hot, black coffee and then holding all that in until you find a place with white shag carpeting and then you put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger, painting the walls with your brains, as Tyler Durden would put it. Nothing but shit, piss, blood, and brains everywhere.

2. Falling from something really, really, really high up because doctors now say that you'll have a heart attack long before you hit bottom so you'll never have to worry about actually feeling your heart exploding, your vital organs becoming liquid shit, or every single one of your 206 bones breaking simultaneously.

1. The absolute best way to die is to be 80 years old and fucking a hot, 18 year old cheerleader so that when you die, you meet the Good Lord with a smile on your face.


Now, the worst ways to die was hard to come up with. I decided to add only 1 disease out of the probable millions of diseases that exist and that disease is Alzheimer's.

WORST WAYS TO DIE

5. Overdosing on some drug.

4. Drowning to death. You want that last breath that most people get and you can never get it.

3. Imagine not being able to recognize your loved ones. And not wondering who they are or what they're doing there, but just not knowing anything at all. It's not the worst way to die, but it's in the top 3.

2. Being smushed to death at a soccer game in England because in foreign countries don't ever pay attention to the number of people the stadiums can hold and let anybody in.

1. Being a supervillain or the henchman of the same supervillain who has been thwarted by James Bond. If you're the supervillain, you're at the last, crucial step in your quest for world dominance (which would suck, since if there's a problem, you're king of the fucking world and now, it's your problem to solve, whereas before, if there was a problem, the government of the country that had the problem solved it themselves), and James Bond comes in and beats the ever loving shit out of you BEFORE he kills you. If you're the henchman, it's just as worse. You can't fucking tell anybody you're a henchman for Blofeld or Goldfinger, cause when they hired you, you had to sign a secrecy clause. Meaning if you spoke about anything, the sharks with laser beams attached to their heads would play with you. And if you're killed by Bond, which is such a high possibility it's scary, nobody will know you're gone, which is fucking rude. All your henchman friends will be like, "where's Smitty? this is his bachelor party for christ sakes!" But since you're Smitty, you're dead.

Norm, I'm invincible...like the Black Knight. None shall pass!!!

Last night, somebody in my house made Rice Krispy treats. No big deal really, I enjoy Rice Krispy treats for they are tasty and delicious. But some dumbass printed out a recipe for them off of the internet. I'll take a moment and that sink into your fucking heads.

Done? Great, then let me move on to my rant. First off, let's ignore the fact that every Rice Krispy box ever printed since they came into existence has the recipe printed on the back. The list of ingredients is all of 3 things long: butter (or margarine), Rice Krispies, and fucking marshmallows. How fucking brain dead do you have to be to not figure THIS complicated dish out!? Let's see, butter that's not melted tastes like shit. Marshmallows have no stickiness to them when they're not melted. And I've distinctly heard my Rice Krispies tell me, "snap, crackle, pop, fuck you!"

So let's see, we have 3 ingredients and they all have to join together...you know what? It's just easier for me to say that whomever printed the recipe off the internet is the dumbest fucking human being to EVER walk the earth and needs to be hit in the head with something large, heavy and blunt. I mean, let's be honest. If you can't figure out the complicated chemistry behind marshmallows, butter and Rice Krispies then I literally have no hope for you. And if it was my mom or dad, this does not bode well. I share their genes. Holy shit, if I'm 40 years old, if I have been on this planet for 40 FUCKING YEARS!!!! and I still can't figure out how to make Rice Krispy treats... Jesus Christ, just put a diaper on me and stick me in a nursing home where I will eat tapioca pudding and shit and piss myself while I jack off and fling my cum at the overweight red-headed nurse with cankles, varicose veins, and titty freckles.

And then murder my children, because we all know it'll be a mercy killing. No jury in the world would convict you, ever, ever, ever. Fucking ever. The trial would probably go something like this: "Your Honor, we killed these children because the parents could not make Rice Krispy treats without the use of a recipe. Printed off the internet. That also had FUCKING PICTURES TO HELP THEM OUT!!!!!" The judge would be like, "case dismissed."