Every day, we are judged on the language we use. If we express ourselves clearly and politely, the impression we make on others is one of intelligence and professionalism. If we’re not talking about stupid shit like pro wrestling or Rick Santorum, that is. But if we use naughty words and terms like “stupid shit”, we will be judged as dunderheads and degenerates by people who lack the vocabulary to call us fuck-wads and ass-munchers. Pity those poor, judgmental fart-huffing jizz-guzzlers for lacking the power to truly express themselves. Dumb bastards.
This week’s news had a heaping helping of daredevils and do-ers of dangerous deeds. Whether it’s bungee jumping into a croc-infested river, escaping prison, rescuing venomous snakes from a burning barn, or driving a potato truck, these thrill-seekers bravely risk life and limb for our eventual amusement. Thanks suckers! We also had our fair share of sneaks and villains, like the fake moustache bandit, the yearbook skank and her opportunistic mother, and the case of the missing viscera. But what really stands out this week are all the stories of magic: the Pie Fairy retires, a lonely car parks itself in a strange garage, and a roaming wizard gives an old woman a handful of magic seeds. Of course he did. What could go wrong?
Luka’s Bad Movie Review this week is Dolls from 1987. This Lousy Unintentionally Bad Movie made quite the mark in its day, traumatizing young viewers for years and causing many a bed sheet to take an extra trip through the laundry. Sadly, you have to be under twelve and of poor bladder control to be actually scared by this quasi-horror mishap. Evil step-parents and punk rock sluts get their just desserts at the little plastic hands of homicidal dolls that won’t stop attacking you no matter how long you hold them to your throat. But the killer toys don’t attack the sweet little girl or the awkwardly nice pedo guy. The requisite happy ending, so sugary sweet that diabetics are encouraged not to watch, sets up nicely for a sequel that never arrived. And this was in the late 80′s when everything had a sequel. That, more than Luka’s review, should tell you just how bad this movie truly is.
Skullard breaks out another Song I No Longer Sing, and true to form, he shows how glaringly out of practice he is. He’s so out of practice, he didn’t even know his guitar had a built-in tuner. “The Nice Comedian” song used to be an opener for his act, but the best reaction to it he ever got was from his mother. Ah, church ladies . . . they’re so easy to impress.
Sydney Spies and her mother couldn’t see why this picture was deemed “too sexy” for the school yearbook. Neither can Skullard, because porn has taught him that all high school girls who want better grades look like this. What’s the big deal?
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: That kid in Idaho Falls covered the whole road when he spilled his truckload of potatoes. If he’d been hauling this mama around, he could have flattened a Prius or two.
In this week’s educational short, a little girl avoids the plague by following a set of obsessive-compulsive hygiene rules. Please enjoy Joan Avoids a Cold (1947)!