Thursday, February 7, 2008

China Flexes Superpower Muscles Via Mass Murder Of U.S. Puppies/Kitties

This is it.  The beginning of the end.  We'd better begin phasing out those pointless French classes in schools and replace them with mandatory Chinese classes, a language that will soon compete with Spanish as the official speak of Los Estados Unitos de China.

Over the last year, Xuzhou Anying Biologic Technology Development Co. (XAC), in cahoots with the treasonous Vegas-based ChemNutra Inc., has been responsible for the deaths of thousands of U.S. puppies and kitties.  It is alleged that they maliciously contaminated over 150 brands of pet food with the industrial chemical Melamine to falsely enhance the apparent protein content of their obviously sub par wheat gluten.

Folks, welcome to Domesticated Petfare.  Never did anyone think this is where the wiley Chinese would strike first in their bid for global domination.  But they watch TV.  They know how many knockoff "Louise Vuittone" doggie carrying cases they ship over here every year to be sold on urban street corners.  They understand the American obsession with the pet as accessory, and this is their first attempt at ruining our way of life.  First you get the puppies, then you get the power, then you get to claim Disney World as your very own.

Be afraid, America.  Think about the unprecedented evil we're dealing with here.  If it can, without hesitation, kill this:


kitty kiss puppy

Just imagine what it will do to this:


hilary clinton

I for one do not want to live in that world.  This will be my last posting.  May the bodhisattva have mercy on your vajras.

-Turk

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Crackhouse

I'm sorry to keep mentioning famous people.  I know I should talk about Mike Huckabee's victorious third place in-your-face-Mitt-Romney-fest on Super Tuesday or Hilary's crushing 20 delegate CNN estimation over Obama, or the fact that some Americans actually risked their lives out in tornados and snow storms to vote for John Edwards.  However, people joke so much about crack cocaine, primarily because it seems like a ridiculous substance most of us have never physically been in the same room with, that when it shows up in real news, you can't help but be fascinated.

Though it probably comes as no great surprise, a Ms. Amy Winehouse is in jeopardy of not being able to perform at the Grammy's because the good folks over at Scotland Yard found a video of her smoking crack, which may revoke that U.S. visa she needs.  She also may not be able to perform at the Grammy's because SHE SMOKES FUCKING CRACK!!!  Claims that she only did so in solidarity with the writer's strike are as yet unsubstantiated.

But that isn't even the most shocking part.  While skimming through the BBC article I learned a horrific truth I don't think anyone could've possibly guessed by looking at her...

Winehouse
This bitch is 24 years old!  Holy shit.

-Turk


Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Lab Rat Unemployment Rate To Challenge That Of Uneducated White People In Border States

Similar to what our porous border with Mexico did to the skill challenged Southwestern white man, who can now not even get a manual labor job he hates and expect minimum wage, lab rats found out today that their employment future is also in jeopardy.  The culprit?  No, it's not a mass migration of Lou Dobbs-spiting Latin American rodents, but rather a small glass "chip" scientists say could drive a stake through the heart of the long standing science-rat relationship forever.

Termed "in vitro" testing, the chip is contains a thin layer of active human cells, which, says science, respond to introduced substances much the way a human being would.  I can only assume this means the chip cells whore out their cytoplasm when introduced to bright red lipstick, become instantly diabetic when introduced to soft drinks, and demand an introduction to the lipstick cells when introduced to erectile dysfunction pharmaceuticals.

Well that's great science, but have you thought about where all the rats are going to go?  What they'll do?  They can't all open French restaurants, you know.  The sad reality is that this puts all of those would be test subjects back out on the street where they'll have no choice but to eat garbage, breed uncontrollably, infest people's homes, and spread disease, much like their uneducated white southerner counterparts.

So I implore you, science, before you give lab rats the ax, give them another option.  They may hate being tortured so our armpits don't stink, they may not like being murdered in the name of Liz Claiborne, or their families torn apart and their dreams crushed so the FDA can justify its kickbacks, but at least it's honest work.  They give their lives for the greater good of a superior species.  The very least you can do before slapping them in the whiskers is put together a nice severance package - a small piece of cheese and a rabies inoculation, it doesn't take much.  After all they've done for you, I think you can afford to show a little respect.

-Turk

Monday, February 4, 2008

Manning-Handled

This just in: Tom Brady is not a perfect human being.  In a game wherein I half expected him to develop the ability to fly at some point, the Giant's defensive line instead made him look like a Victoria's Secret model with a helmet.  Of course the Patriot's usually serviceable offensive line didn't help matters when they decided to do their impression of those kids dressed like Seahawks in the State Farm commercial for most of the game.

This brings me to Eli Manning, who did his part to set an NFL record for consecutive Superbowl wins by commercially overexposed siblings.  Somewhere someone has officially recorded that statistic.  I'm no Patriots fan, nor really does history excite me, but the entire experience feels somewhat empty and unfulfilling.  

If anyone has to dethrone Bellichick and make him look dumber than he did to himself with that godawful sweatshirt, couldn't it have been anyone but Eli Manning?  I suppose it was more Strahan and Tuck than anything, but be certain Peyton Jr. will get most of the credit.  Also, I am not in favor of anything that makes Tom Coughlin's beady little rodent eyes glimmer with such delight.  Freaks me out.

Speaking of things that freaked me out last night, did you see the new Careerbuilder.com ad?  The one where the woman's heart makes a bloody escape from her chest and proceeds to walk into her lobster gorging boss's office and hand in her resignation.  How does an exposed nipple in a football stadium offend Christians and destroy children's futures, but this piece of grotesque garbage is acceptable?  I just about lost all twelve beers and the half-pound of guacamole I'd recently consumed.

Ah well, it's over.  On to the most meaningless game of the year to once again end the NFL season with a shrug.  Then I can finally re-devote my Sundays to worshipping something else.  Hockey's a sport, right?

-Turk

Friday, February 1, 2008

Your Prius Isn't Helping, It's Just Ugly

It is a time of war.  A time of oil scarcity.  A time of economic downslide.  The housing market is broken and gas prices are as high as ever.  It is also a time of  green advocacy, hybrids, and the race for alternative fuels.

Apparently it's also a time of greed and lies (who knew?), as a major corporation posted the largest profit ever by a U.S. company in the 4th quarter of 2007.  The company?  You guessed it: Exxon, $11.7billion PROFIT in 3 MONTHS!

REALLY?!

Consider the trend, gas prices go up... profits go up.  This would appear to be basic economics, but when all we hear about is the skyrocketing price per barrel being the reason for our weekly sodomy at the pump, what sort of exponential markup must be taking place and why is no one actively regulating it?  The answer:  Because fuck you, consumer.

Let this be a lesson to all the Prius-driving Leftholes out there telling everyone they're making a difference.  This is proof that you're really not.  If anything, it's all getting worse.  So fine, if you need to feel special while you drive to Whole Foods with your canvas Save the Whales tote bag to pay double for organic food that you'll eat raw in your Birkenstocks, do it up.  But do it for you.  I don't want to hear about how you're crusading against oil companies and fixing the planet.

Me, I'm going to pay through the nose to drive a cool car until the oil runs out.  It's not that I don't care about the environment, it's that, like most people, I'm too lazy do do anything but write about it.

-Turk

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Pot Kettle Black Lung

Science finally sobered up today and made the following statement: "Dude... I think maybe pot is, like... bad for you..."

It's just occurred to science that smoking an excessive amount of marijuana can lead to the same health problems as smoking an excessive number of cigarettes, namely lung cancer, emphysema, and a constant, un-Fabreezable stench.

My interest in this is derived from a HAHA moment to all the idiot potheads that have been swearing up and down for years that smoking marijuana does zero damage to the human body ("it's like, medicinal, man...").  Some of these high-horses were even so bold as to constantly berate smokers of the original cancer stick (cigarettes) for doing irreparable harm to themselves.  Sorry to destroy the notion that nothing Bob Marley did could possibly be as horrendous an activity as... GASP!... smoking cigarettes.  I mean, he played fucking soccer, didn't he?

Studies show (and we all know every study that comes out in this fashion will never be contradicted by additional studies) that smoking 1 joint a day is slightly worse than smoking an entire pack of cigarettes (20 per).  At this rate, the pot smoker increases their risk of disease by 8% each year their habit (or, sorry, non-addictive hobby) continues while the Lucky Strikes addict gets lucky with a mere 7% annual increase in certain death.

In conclusion, who's got the giggles now, you self-important stoners?!  

Good, needed to get that off my chest before we find out this study was conducted by Phillip Morris.

-Turk

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Victoria's Secret Suddenly The Expert On What's Sexy

Forget John Edwards going back to South Carolina with his tail between his legs and little else, I want to express my outrage, for the first time ever, at Victoria's Secret.

The geniuses that brought us the Victoria's Secret catalog, the fashion show (now in (sigh) High Definition), those heart-stopping pants-tightening commercials, slutty lingerie marketed toward adolescents, the new stores that look like some sort of neon porn circus I desperately want to be a part of but am too afraid to enter, and basically put Brazil on the map as THE place to recruit wives before they're "discovered," have released their annual What Is Sexy list.  Okay, so you've done a lot of great sexy stuff, VS, but who are you to make the jump from the painfully obvious "Let's put South American girls in something lacy and parade them around because it's sexy" to "Hey, you know who doesn't get enough attention for doing nothing of note... Ryan Seacrest."  I won't stand for it, Victoria's Secret, and here's why:

Sexiest Smile - Ryan Seacrest:  I'd be smiling too if I was a 5'2" sexually ambiguous millionaire with bad highlights who stood around with a microphone talking about idiots all day.  Know why?  Because I'd be a bloody millionaire, so I wouldn't give a shit about anything.  And that type of confidence fools women into thinking you're sexy.  Mostly, I'm just jealous.  There, I said it.

Sexiest Male Athlete - Tony Romo:  Maybe it's his Midwestern boyish good looks, or the fact that he loses control of his arm and his mind whenever some moronic blonde girl enters the stadium, and they think that's cute.  I don't know.  All I know is I've heard enough about Tom Brady, and now I've heard enough about Tony Romeo.  Also, I hate the Cowboys and most other things that come from Texas.  And I'm slightly jealous.

Sexiest Couple - Fergie and Josh Duhamel:  This disturbs me because the latter seems to be prettier than the former.  Also, the former wets herself on stage and was responsible for her entire album.  Tad Hamilton I have no problem with.  His girlfriend Fergasucks.

Sexiest Style - Scarlett Johansson:  See?  Even women mistake abundant cleavage for style.  I'll make you a deal, Scarlett, you can dethrone Gwen Stafani as World Style Icon as long as you stop ruining Woody Allen's films.  Deal?

Sexiest Eyes - Kate Bosworth:  I... I mean... she's beautiful, of course.  Love you, Kate.  To pieces.  But of all of her perfectly legitimate features, you're going to pick her... eyes?  You know those Great Danes with two different colored eyes?  It's freaky, right?  Well... I mean, not to be mean... but... really?  Sexiest eyes?  Okay.

Sexiest Legs - Ali Larter:  I'll have to take their word for it.  The whipped cream bikini distracts from just about everything else.  I don't even know what the hell she looks like.

Sexiest Mom - Victoria Beckham:  Face it, they could've said Britney, but they didn't.  That would've been slightly funnier than this.  I didn't realize Posh Spice had kids.  Neither did she.  Maybe, at the very least, this list will clue her in to what that incessant banging on the basement door might be.

Sexiest Dad - Justin Chambers:  I had to Google this one.  Looks like Dr. McDreamy has some competition... Dr. McTattooedBadBoyType!  I don't know why, but tattoos are sexy.  I will never have one, nor understand their appeal, but women can't get enough of the damn things.  Maybe they think it subconsciously shows the inked man can commit to something stupid for the rest of his life, and that increases their chances of fulfilling their reproductive goals.

Sexiest Funnyman - Dane Cook:  Ha!  Yup.

Sexiest Beach Body - Josh Holloway:  Right, the asshole from Lost.  Well, it's easy for him when he spends his entire life on the beach.  Still, not that impressed.  I would've chosen Evangeline Lilly.  This was a sexist pick and I'm not happy about it.

Sexiest Lips - Jessica Biel:  Really, she could've swept every category (possibly even sexiest couple).  Kudos to VS for choosing to have some variety, even if it was relatively unsuccessful.  

Sexiest Actress - Eva Mendes:  Mmm... no.  I would, sure.  But maybe they're trying to push that whole curvaceous women are beautiful too even though our models haven't eaten since the 90's thing.  Works for Dove, doesn't work for you.  Try again.  My vote: Kiera Knightley.

Sexiest Actor - Eric Bana:  This was not obvious.  I commend you for it, VS.  He's good shit.

Sexiest Musician - Rihanna:  Ella ella ella eh eh eh... PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!  Also, not a musician.  Chocolate Pop Tart.  

Sexiest Male Musician - Chris Brown:  This pick has made me lose interest in completing this posting at all.  All I know is I saw him on TV the other day, planning his Michael Jackson - Off The Wall themed birthday party at some swanky shithole in Manhattan.  Any inherent sexiness should evaporate the moment he opens his mouth and sounds like a white kid from Iowa trying to impersonate Li'l Wayne.

Sexiest Cast - Dirty Sexy Money:  Yes, yes, yes.  Maybe you people are paying attention after all.  Honorable Mention: Gossip Girl.

Sexiest Newcomer - Blake Lively:  Speak of the Devil...  The term "newcomer" is consistently misused in Hollywood.  Clearly you haven't seen "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" twelve times and "Accepted" twenty-three times just to bask in Ms. Lively's beauty.  Neither have I.

Sexiest Newlyweds - Katherine Heigl and Josh Kelly:  This is a tough one for me.  Remember "My Father the Hero"?  Remember that white bathing suit?  Remember when you bought it on DVD for $6 but have never watched it because you assume it would make you feel dirty?  Also, remember how much Josh Kelly's music makes you want to hurl yourself off a bridge?  

So, Victoria's Secret, that's all I have to say about the subject.  That and thank you for all the free panty coupons in the mail.  One of these days I'm going to get up the courage to use them.

-Turk


Voting Takes Rare Precedence Over Bingo

Whomever said nothing ever happens in Florida clearly wasn't present today when 71yr. old mama's boy John McCain overtook CGI Mormon Mitt Romney 36%-31%.  Not only does this mean the party continues to have no clear frontrunner, it means last year's obvious winner, Rudy Giuliani, will throw in the towel tomorrow and get behind McCain.  This should make McCain nervous for several reasons:

1. Rudy Giuliani standing anywhere you can't see him means you're already dead.
2. McCain's mom hates Mormons, Baptists, and people from Brooklyn.
3. Rudy is probably Dick Cheney's secret apprentice.

But is this the end of Rudy's crisis-whoring days, or will he continue to find ways to exploit his fortunate role in the most unfortunate event in recent memory?  Only time will tell, but I for one am relieved I will never have to listen to him lisp his way through the State of the Union.

And while Mr. Former Mayor pledging his support for your campaign may not be quite as integral to success as, say, Ted Kennedy or Oprah, at least this gives McCain the confidence boost he needs going into Super Tuesday when he prays more old white people will flock from the retirement homes to the poles in hopes that he will make good on his campaign promises of 15% more prune juice at lunch and a nationwide crackdown on getting those damn kids off your lawn.

In other political news:  Hilary won in Florida too.  No one cares.  It is estimated, however, that 62% of her supporters there will be dead by November.

Stay tuned for more hard hitting, primarily fact-based primary coverage...

-Turk

Monday, January 28, 2008

Miss America Learns Us Good

 The 2008 Miss America pageant was aired on The Learning Channel.  Here are the top five things we learned:

1. Reality Show Format Has Destroyed Everything:  Pageants and other televised contests used to be about performing well and winning.  Now they're about being eliminated at the most gut wrenching possible time.  Line up ten girls ready to perform the "talent" they're mothers (who have become no less involved in the process since they vicariously transformed their daughters into four-year-old JonBenĂ©t Ramsey clones) have been drilling them in for the last nine months, then as they are about to go out, jack their adrenaline levels even higer by telling them they're about to be ELIMINATED!  Then kill someone else's dream instead and crank the Tchaikovsky immediately.  Can Miss Virginia survive the Sugar Plum Gauntlet?!  STAY TUNED!!!

2. America's Social Progression is Highly Overstated:  We are so proud of ourselves for being on the verge of having a black or a female president, yet all we do is argue about which would be worse.  The Miss America contestants contained many beautiful, talented, and diverse young women.  When the winner was called, it seemed as though the cute-on-paper stock photo bleach blonde incumbent was somehow able to crown a clone of herself she'd created so she didn't have to give up the tiara.  

3. Obsession With the Hollywood Axis of Evil Must Stop:  Okay, so U.S. Americans being unable to read maps can be added to the list of pageant question topics that provide hilarious YouTube fodder, but little else.  However, can we please stop formally bashing the Hilton-Lohan-Spears skanktacular by asking contestants questions about how these three young ladies are triple-handedly ruining America?  If one more person cites any of these people as "role models for our children" I'm going to vomit.  They are kids with jobs that happen to pay them enough money for people to give a shit about them.  They are brands who are really not all that much different than Mickey Mouse, except you've been horrified by all of their vaginas at one time or another and then pretended you didn't want anything to do with them.  What they do on their own time is no different that any other asshole you've ever met.  Your friends are probably worse.  And unless these irresponsible mothers are suggesting that their daughters should aspire to be popstars, actors, or rich by association, which would inevitably end in failure, resentment, and piles of insecurity when it doesn't happen because it's nearly impossible, then they should replace the term "role model" with something better... like NOTHING.

4. Bad Judy Garland Impressions Trump All:  One of the contestants, Miss Indiana, did a sexy little South American number in Spanish and should be opening for Shakira shortly.  The sophisticated Miss California sang an incredible operatic number from Faust.  Miss Wisconsin was in serious danger of starting her violin on fire with the raw passion, energy and talent with which she played.  The winner, Miss Michigan, warbled her way through "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," reaching for the high notes and finally hitting them after a few seconds of flailing about.  Her face indicated that someone had wound her up prior to shuffling her out on stage.  How can these other mind blowing actual talents be overlooked for this type of awful karaoke performance?  Someone should drop a house on the judges.

5. I Actually Watched This Crap:  It's my fault.  I'm part of the problem.  I don't know why I do it when I could be reading or writing something useful (not this blog).  What is it about 50 girls on stage?  Why do I feel the need to pick my horse?  Why do I want to place bets on my favorites?  Why do I always feel the need to comment on how I want the job of consoling the losers?  The madness will not end until I take it upon myself to turn this sort of validation machine off and watch Mythbusters instead.  Now that's a great fucking show!

-Turk

Friday, January 25, 2008

$600 To Make Everything All Better

America can finally breathe a collective sigh of relief.  We no longer have to worry about the long-term economic effects of that unjustly opposed war.  Nevermore shall we fret about the boomers sucking up social security like YooHoo through a twisty straw.  The mortgage bubble?  What mortgage bubble?  Exactly.

And it's all possible because our government has finally figured out how to fix everything.  Ever.

Don't concern yourself with myths of evolving from apes or global warming.  There's plenty of oil to go around.  Muslims are not trying to kill you.  Television is useful.  Your penis still works on its own.

The economy will be forever stimulated by a one time gifting of a check for $600 for those they deem worthy of being poor enough to use it.  The unemployed will receive $300.  Couples will score a whopping $1200 (that's $600 per member of the couple).

Whatever you choose to spend it on -- prostitutes, gambling, liquor, drugs, porn, ironic T-shirts -- the end result should prove to be the greatest pseudo-socialist U.S. government plan to hit the streets since FDR's New Deal.

It may not bring real democracy back from the dead, but you sure will be distracted by that big hole burning itself in your pocket.

-Turk

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Women Must Stop Being "All Like..."

This topic comes not from the news wire, but rather from the elevator this morning, where two attractive twenty-thirtysomethings were recently witnessed having a "conversation."  The prettier of the two, adorned in canary yellow velour pants and a puffy white coat held two leashes attached to the necks of a pair of identical miniature pinschers.  The other chose the typical black North Face coat, a stretchy headband, and was heading down to walk a yellow lab (obviously named Honey-something) and a homely chihuahua-esque mutt that only a Korean restauranteur could love.

While my man mind was utterly incapable of comprehending the exact nature of their chatter during those thirty seconds, it appeared to be a contest about who could recount a plethora of former conversations about conversations they'd had in the past the fastest and with as little enunciation as possible.  North Face droned on in a lengthy high-pitched half-laugh about a misunderstanding she'd had with a male about things other people had said at some point.  When it came time for her to recount the dialogue she'd uttered during this encounter, she stated that she'd been "All like..." and then proceeded to say what she'd said.  But it didn't stop there, the male also found himself "All like..." whenever he had something to say (though I question the tone and inflection with which she portrayed his verbal nuggets.  I also have trouble believing any self-respecting man would allow himself to be "All like..." anything during a conversation with the woman he loves and/or tolerates in exchange for regular sex.)

Now Tweety Pants with the tiny guard dogs was somewhat less shrill during this exchange, but found herself wholeheartedly relating to everything that was expelled from North Face's face with America's answer to Canada's "Eh?": "I know, right?"

Originally conceived and popularized in the San Fernando Valley in the mid to late 90's, "I know, right?" spread like wild fire all across the country through various Viacom owned television networks, teenage popstar magazine interviews, and eventually Myspace.com and word of mouth.  It gives the illusion that the user of the phrase, no matter what it is in response to, is already fully aware of everything you've just said and was, in fact, just thinking the exact same thing, thus providing you with the validation that you are not alone in your assessment of a particular situation, and providing them with a big shiny shield behind which to remain ignorant and far more interested in what lip gloss they're wearing than anything you could ever say.

So please, ladies, let's try to give up these phrases, huh?  People have said things in the past, but no one has ever technically been all like.  Nor do you really know, right, do you?  No, you don't.  So stop pretending.  Force yourself to be smarter than this.  And if you can't, at the very least put on a shorter skirt, higher boots, a lower-cut top, and a shitload of eyeliner.  Thank you.

-Turk

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Truth About Celebrideath

Let us examine celebrity culture for a moment and why it is so important to the well-being of this country...

All famous people fit into one or more of the following twelve categories:  actors, actresses, models, supermodels, former-supermodel entrepreneurs, former-actor politicians, current politician-actors, actors that think they're politicians, heirless vaginas, reality TV stars, pundits, and assholes.  They stand as a testament to the ideals set forth by the founding mothers and fathers of The United States of America, the long-standing motto of which also serves as the first line of the Constitution: "If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere."

That phrase in the decades since has come to be known as "The American Dream."  Nowhere is the manifestation of that Dream more obvious than in the celebrity.  The celebrity shows ordinary people that in order to be a true patriot, you have to be relentlessly documented.  Unless this documentation takes place - be it via film, TV, radio, advertisements, or internet blogging - you might as well be waving a French flag and voting for a female president.  To be a true American is to be followed by cameras.  To make so much money you never have to pay for anything ever again.  To constantly lie about who you are and where your genitals have been.  And most importantly, to be incredibly unhappy about all of it.

This brings me to the true nature of celebrity.  These are not just people like you and me, these are the martyrs of our time.  They give and give, expecting nothing in return but our constant and unwavering worship resulting in an empty validation of their existence and a couple grams of blow in their trailer.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  

And now the harsh truth...

SPOILER ALERT!

You will never be famous.  It's not your fault.  It's God's fault.  Celebrities are God's chosen people.  They are proof of his existence.  They are made in his image - larger than life, seemingly everywhere at once, capable of unimaginable wrath, fake.  And when God decides to take one of his favorite children back, it is a loss for humanity.  So the heathens may lack sympathy, but they must live with the knowledge that we are being punished.  Every dead celebrity is a toy that Our Father has taken away from us.  When the toy box is empty, we'll have no choice but to play with ourselves.  I'm sure my average Saturday night won't change all that much.

-Turk