Boing Boing: Space Ghost Coast to Coast + 60 Minutes + Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip + McGyver = The A-Team. Well, The B-Team, anyway. Either way: RIAA? You better watch your backs, fools!
Suicide Girls: America’s Next Top Model + Attack of the Show! + The Real World = The Apprentice. Is it exploitation or empowerment? Who cares. If you’re not 17–36, conventionally unconventional and hawt, you’re fired!
Wil Wheaton dot Net (WWdN: In Exile): My Name is Earl + Family Matters + Celebrity Poker Showdown + Wheel of Fortune (I’d like to buy another “L”, Pat) = Max Headroom
Google = TV Guide
YouTube: America’s Funniest Home Videos + Nova + Public Access Television + Jackass = The Gong Show
Fark: The Gong Show + WrestleMania = When Animals Attack
MetaFilter: Mythbusters + The McLaughlin Group + The Soup + American Idol + Antiques Roadshow + Talk Sex with Sue Johanson = The Simpsons. Or Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader? I can’t decide. Maybe both, I guess. So what's The Simpsons + Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader? Ah. Got it. MetaFilter = South Park. I should have known. You bastards!
You're on board when the Food Network's private jet loses an engine and crash lands in the Andes. All of the network's celebrities survive. So... who do you eat? There are a few criteria to keep in mind:
1) Bam! for the buck. You'd want to pick someone with a bit of meat on the bones. Giada may look good enough to eat, but she'd hardly make for a feast.
2) Tenderness. Age may bring wisdom and superior wine, but youth just tastes better on the barbie. Paula Deen might be a good source of ready-made jerky, though, for the long hike out of the wilderness.
3) Quality of feed. Okay, more than one of the celebrity cooks are packing a few extra meals around on their frames, but what ingredients went into making all that well-marbled meat? If you are what you eat, you just know Sandra Lee and Rachael Ray are at least 75% artificial preservatives.
4) Cooking chops. Once the menu has been selected and dispatched, someone has to prepare it. You'd probably want to keep the best chefs around for sheer aesthetics. And because they'll cut you. Very, very efficiently.
5) Annoyance factor. Sure, Bobby Flay is the BBQ king, and undoubtedly the most qualified to whip up an expedient long pork banquet. You get the sense it's something he's done more than once before. But would you really want to be trapped on a mountainside with him?
All things considered, I'm voting go with the flo. Tyler Florence - it's what's for dinner.
Playground Rules
WASHINGTON, March 21, 2007
(IRFH) President Bush invoked the “I Know You Are, But What Am I?” defense this week in response to the Federal Prosecutor Firings (FPF) scandal, labeling congressional efforts to determine whether the firings of eight federal prosecutors were based entirely on partisan politics as “partisan politics.” Washington insiders have speculated that this move may perhaps signal a change in overall Whitehouse Scandal-Response Tactics (WSRTs), which until this week were primarily “I’m Rubber And You’re Glue, Whatever You Say Bounces Off Of Me And Sticks To You”-based. One senior administration official who refused to be named for this article claimed that the administration is rapidly running out of official “Bouncers” to rebuke the President’s detractors, while another unnamed source attributes the switch primarily to Bush’s difficulty remembering whether he’s supposed to represent rubber or glue.
Though Congress has yet to respond officially, one unidentified Senator was overheard confiding to his Personal Hollywood Lobbyist (PHL) that the Republicans should anticipate being put in a very long time out.
Other terms Ann Coulter won't be using to refer to John Edwards:
Everything you really need to know
about supply-side economics
can be learned by watching The Roadrunner.
Not everyone can be a roadrunner,
and coyotes are pretty much doomed
to be coyotes, but you should invest heavily
in the ACME Corporation, regardless.
Because so long as there are roadrunners
and coyotes, there will always be
an imbalance of power, and hunger,
and a nearly genetic refusal
to learn from the failures of history.
And even if it would be cheaper
to order takeout every night, roadrunners
and coyotes are tradition-bound creatures,
set by God or fate in eternal opposition--
and wouldn’t you just kill
for a pair of rocket-powered roller skates?
Does it feel like the end times for your company? Maybe it is. Take a look at this handy chart of the 4 basic business disaster precursor personality types and see where you fit in the cycle of despair.
sheam [shēm] n.
1. Guilt associated with actions occurring only in dreams.
2. Remorse following the sudden realization that hours of fantasies of outwitting the detectives on TV's CSI or Law and Order franchises almost incidentally also include plotting grievous bodily injury to members of your own family.
bus fucked [bŭs fŭk'd] n.
The state of having been pinned behind a stopped or slow-moving bus by the endless line of cars behind you switching lanes and passing too quickly for you to also get around.
wall of impenetrable ignorance [wôl ŭv ĭm-pĕn'ĭ-trə-bəl ĭg'nər-əns] n.
The unbreakable line formed when the lead cars in every lane of the highway drive unnecessarily slowly at exactly the same rate of speed, trapping miles of traffic behind them in a tide of seething rage.
> From: Ted H.
> Sent: Tuesday, February 6, 2007 3:26 PM
> To: itsrainingmetaflo@hotmail.com
> Subject: A guy can dream, can't he?
>
> Oh, man, I had the freakiest dream last night! I'm at this posh lake resort when all of a sudden, Julia Roberts walks up with a bunch of her people. Julia Freakin' Roberts! And, oh, man she's happy to see me! Turns out we're very close friends. She gives me a big, warm hug, and we ditch the entourage to go sit together by the lake.
I kind of lie back and Julia curls up in my arms. I stroke her hair and kiss the back of her neck, and she holds me as tight as she can. And the whole time I'm telling her how beautiful she is, how wonderful; and how nobody realizes how special she really is as a person, as a woman - but I know.
And she's soaking it up, she's just absolutely loving and craving this shit. It's like our private ritual: I bathe her in unconditional love, and she's rejuvenated. And we're both filled with indescribable joy.
Then I woke up alone, and it felt like my guts had been ripped out! Talk about your nightmares! I mean: Julia Freakin' Roberts! What a talentless hack!
