094 Pineapples and Kumquats

What do you do when things go wrong? When your plans fall flat, what’s your back up? Around here, it turns out, we podcast. We had every intention to enjoy a night at the theater, and we paid our admission and parked our butts in a couple of aisle seats. But then calamity struck and the show got cancelled. Sure, we got our money back, but then what? Hit the strip clubs? Heat up quarters with a lighter, then throw them out the car window at passing hobos? Play canasta? None of those things! Instead we headed straight home and turned on the microphones so you wouldn’t have to miss one second of our pathetic butt-hurt. That’s the thing about self-pity: even though it’s all about you, it’s only any fun if you share.

Click on the banner for Blowpaste! That’s right, we proudly endorse this premium toothpaste/oral lube whole-heartedly now. Why? Well . . . because they said nice things to us. We don’t get a lot of positive reinforcement around here. Flatter us a little and we’ll go to mat for you. That’s just the kind beaten-down dogs we are. Blowpaste! When you say “Blowpaste“, you’ve said a mouthful.

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Now here’s a charming couple. Is this supposed to be Archie and Betty? If so, Betty needs to dial back on the lip stick a little. She certainly seems to enjoy sucking cream from his straw. The way Archie is leering, he doesn’t seem to mind. Think he’s going to try and take her cherry? Okay, these kind of lines are too easy. Considering that Sunday the 18th is Bad Poetry Day, Skullard offered to write a bad poem about a postcard of Luka’s choice and this is the card she picked. What follows is the poem he wrote, destined to be included one day in an anthology entitled “Poems For The Lowest Common Denominator.”

From their very first encounter at the Walgreen’s soda counter
He knew he had to mount her so he asked her out right there
She didn’t seem insulted and his spirit was exalted
When she said, “Buy me a malted and maybe we can share.”

She acted fairly flirty and though she said nothing dirty
Just the way she filled her shirt he nearly came there at the sight
Her straw work was seductive making him feel reproductive
And he thought he might get fucked if he could play his cards just right

He wished he had a roofie to get this girly goofy
Because in honest truth he had no talent in romance
Instead he offered booze he hoped would make her far less choosy
So this soda-fountain floozie would let him in her pants

But she eyed him with a snicker. “Did you really think that liquor
would hit me like a brick?” Her tone suggested it would not
“Look, if you want to pair up, whoever did your hair up
Like some hemorrhoidal flair up should be taken out and shot

“And did your Mommy pick that sweater? If she did then you should get her
Nicer glasses that work better because that one is a miss
And if you want my diagnosis, the judgment of my nose is
That your chronic halitosis stinks worse than buzzard piss

“Plus I’m really quite disgusted how your pants are half-encrusted
And I’m sure your fly is rusted by the seepage from your schlong
And I don’t know who told ya you could buy a girl a soda
And just for that she owed ya something sexy, but they’re wrong”

After such a verbal beating he ended up retreating
Despairing how the meeting didn’t work out like he planned
Back home he sat and pondered on the chance that he had squandered
And through his mind she wandered as he gave himself a hand

056 Hither And Nyan

Our first attempt at this episode was a dismal failure, as opposed to those light-hearted, optimistic failures you’ve come to know and tolerate. So, we tossed it. We gave up. We quit. We cursed ourselves as twats and peons and foul smelling vermin. Looking back, perhaps we were a triffle hard on ourselves. But then we visited cats, ate about a pound of Jo-Jos and watched the K-On! movie. Then somewhere, in our over-the-counter AND prescription drug accelerated slumbers, as the night sanded over the rough and pointy peaks of the previous day, iron re-entered our spines and strength infused our sinews. The lights in our eyes were re-kindled. Somehow resolve poured back into our fibers and we woke with with a new spring in our step and song in our hearts. We were bucked, quite bucked indeed. Caffeine helped as well. But we looked at each other and we knew . . . we had to try again. We were not quitters. As the anime lyric says, “We are never give up!” So we fired up the microphones, grabbed some baking soda, and doused the conflaguration. Then we just turned them on so we could record, and record we did, despite that acrid burnt foam smell. And here you have it: not the first attempt, but the one we enjoyed. We hope you enjoy it too and, with us, learn a valuable lesson: even when things go wrong, you can always start over and try again. You’re welcome for the free plug, divorce lawyers.

In Luka’s Bad Movie Review, an unlikeable couple, their whining daughter, and their short-lived poodle happen across a castle/shack, a weird hobo and the most terrifying ambiguous baddie of all – The Master! Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966) is a Lousy Unintentionally Bad Movie which features the dumbest henchman ever, and a very bizarre cat-fight. It also tends to repeat itself a little. Repeat itself a little. It repeats itself. A little. It also tends to repeat itself a little. Repeat repeat repeat itself a little.

There is no way out of here. But don’t worry. You can spend the night. Torgo will get your luggage.

The Master’s wives must make their decision. Man, yes. Child, no! Catfight! Catfight! Nyan! Nyan!

Please enjoy Rifftrax’s version of Manos, in theatres near you on August 16, 2012. The Master would approve!

All Aboard! Ha ha ha!” Those are the words of Ozzy Osbourne. Thomas happily rolled his eyes. Then Thomas chugged while Mr. Osbourne continued to enchant us with his musical performance. There were many antics and non-lethal train wrecks to follow! Thomas crashed into snowbanks, ditches, barns and several of his companions. He tooted cheekily at Gordon! Gordon got cross. Later, in an unrelated incident, Gordon crashed into a wall. James got stuck on a turntable and became dizzy. A crate of treacle fell on Percy, much to his embarrassment. Bill and Ben taunted Boco until he became briefly insane from confusion. Filled with rage, Deisel broke his coupling and fell into a pit. A boulder chased Rusty, and crashed into a building which burst into flame. During these various occurances, the engines eyes googled and their mouths formed the shape of “O”s, signaling their distress. Luckily, no one was hurt. Thomas vanished over a sunsetty bridge into the distance while Ozzy’s enthusiastic tune came to a satisfying conclusion.

Strap a KittyCam on you kitty-cat and find out just how viscious and blood-thirsty you cuddly snuggle-wuggems is.

Welcome to Toad Suck, Arkansas, the most unfortunately named town in the U.S.A.! How it beat Dildo, New Foundland, we’ll never know.

Hey, loser! Don’t you want friends? Women? Money? Don’t you want to become socially acceptable? DON’T YOU? Then please learn from this week’s helpful educational short, Improve Your Personality (1951)!

Alchemy Divine is an Etsy shop with beautiful handmade jewelry and snazzy cool things. Click this link and check ’em out! You’ll be surprised at what you find.

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: “The BURLINGTON DINER – 4183 SO. HALSTED ST. – CHICAGO, ILL. Since Nov. 27, 1939 *FAMOUS FO GOOD FOOD* Clean and Quick Service Telephone: VIRginia 9078 *THE BEST COFFEE IN TOWN* WE NEVER CLOSE” It’s been gone for years.

You didn’t see this. We didn’t talk about it. Go about your business.