This week’s douchiness comes from the king of it himself, Spencer Pratt. Recently, a mini-feud between him and Mary-Kate Olsen has been going on since MK said some slammy-kinda things on Letterman the other night, video of which is here.
But the douchey part came when Spencer said the following:
”I don’t really get why she’d use my name to get press for her little indie film that no one’s going to see…I know I’ve made it in Hollywood when a famous troll is talking about me on Letterman…I forgive her, though. She’s had to go through life as the less cute twin, which must be tough.”
Made it in Hollywood? You’ve been on two shitty “reality” shows. Get the fuck over yourself. Oh, and let me bang Heidi.
(I will give him a tiny smidgen of credit for that “troll” comment)
Of course not…because one key person is missing…
And really, this unfunny post is just an excuse to share my favorite KR-related quote from The Simpsons:
Manimal – People you’ve never heard of star in this 80s show about a guy that’s half-man and half-animal or, as pseudo-scientists call it, a manimal. Notice how they don’t specify an animal? That’s because this crime fighter can change into any animal, though I’m doubt that he ever changed into one of those monkeys with the red ass because, hey, that’d be embarrassing.
Matt Houston – Lee Horsley–whose name sounds like he could also be a manimal–stars as wealthy private investigator Matt Houston. The key here is that though the show takes place in Los Angeles, the title character is from Houston. And his last name is Houston! Isn’t that crazy? I think the only reason his last name was Houston was to constantly remind the audience that he was from Texas, because, you know, the fucking huge cowboy hat, shitkicker boots and stereotypical accent weren’t enough for the simple people of the 1980s.
Buck James – Another 80s show about a rich Texan private detective. Or doctor. Or rancher. Because all of us Texans are rich and have nothing better to do than fight crime, right? On this show, they took the stereotype further by giving the title character the big hat, the boots, the drawl and a Lincoln convertible with horns on the grill, just like a real Texan. Fucking Hollywood know-nothings. Here’s the interesting part: the show was originally conceived to be about an eccentric doctor in Houston who used extraordinary medical skills to save lives and was based on the life of “colorful” surgeon Red Duke. How the fuck that concept evolved into a billionaire detective, I have no idea.
Hart to Hart – Robert Wagner and Stephanie Powers star as–guess what? That’s right…billionaires who have nothing better to occupy their time with that do some private investigation work. What the fuck? Where did all the original ideas go? All I can figure is that if you’re going to have a show about private investigators, you want them rich, that way they can afford the flashy cars, the private jets, the exotic locales, the hot women, the fancy restaurants, the exuberant jewelry, the best plastic surgery and the purest Colombian coke. I mean, who wants to watch a show about some cracked-out homeless guy trying to solve murders? Especially when, in the end, it’s more than likely himself that did it.
Automan – This short-lived show, starring Desi “Little Ricky” Arnaz, Jr. in the title role, was–without a doubt–one of the worst of the 80s crapfest of TV dramas. That’s right–worse than The Powers of Matthew Star or Tales of the Gold Monkey. Little Ricky stars as a “computer generated” crimefighter. In other words, he’s supposed to be a three-dimensional, solid computer graphic that inhabits reality, not unlike the “hard-light” hologram Rimmer from Red Dwarf. But in this case, I use the phrase “computer graphic” loosely, in that it was obvious that Little Ricky just wore a blue or green suit on camera then they superimposed “computer graphics” on him in post-production. “Computer graphics” that consisted of a bunch of sparkles and lines so that it looked like he was wearing his sister’s black sequined prom dress melded with those suits they wore in Tron. Click here to see what I mean.
The Edison Twins – Ah, this Canadian crapfest, which aired on the Disney Channel in the States and on the CBC (motto: “Almost like the BBC, but not as good”) north o’ the border, typifies the kind of shite that the CBC aired in the 80s. Stuff like The Kids of Degrassi Street (strangely, the current incarnation–Degrassi: The Next Generation–is hugely popular down here in the States, even if the kids don’t know what “aboot” and “serviette” mean). The Edison Twins starred–well, it doesn’t really matter, because you’ve never heard of them–as fraternal twins Annie and Tom Edison. These Canadian teens, along with their little brother (played by the rather feminine-sounding Sunny Thrasher, whose biggest work since this series seems to have been in the rather banal-sounding miniseries “Exploring Ontario’s Provincial Parks”) use their scientific know-how (aka nerdiness) to solve problems and fight Canadian crime (moose rustling, drunken bear driving, rapping with a Jamaican accent when you’re white). You see, they were destined to be scientific geniuses because their last name was Edison, just like the Wizard of Menlo Park, Thomas Edison. Never mind the fact that Edison seems to have, for the most part, appropriated other people’s ideas for his own. Because he was a lying, thieving bastard from New Jersey.
And there you have it, my list of crappy 80s shows that I demand be released on DVD. Only to show the kids today what they escaped by not being born until after that horrendous vast wasteland of a decade had passed.
If you’re like me, you’re a fan of the Food Network‘s Unwrapped, hosted by the “great” Marc Summers, formerly of Nickelodeon’s DoubleDare. In each episode, the show explores a certain type of food, such as hamburgers or cheese or pizza. Some of my favorite episodes, however, are about those weird regional foods, such as White Castle hamburgers or the Philly Cheese Steak. But the creme-de-la-creme of episodes are the ones that feature obscure, regional candies, such as Necco Wafers and Chick-o-Sticks. Having grown up in -yawn- East Texas, we only ate mainstream candy, such as Hershey’s Bars and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (which, for some odd reason, are called “Reese Peanut Butter Cups” in Canada, as if they don’t know of the possessive construction).
I recently came across a few different gums that are certainly obscure enough to be featured on one of these Unwrapped segments. They are Beemans, Black Jack and Teaberry gums. In the interest of science, as well as content for this website, I purchased a pack of each and proceeded to taste test them. These were the gums of our forebears, the candy that our grandparents chewed while they were growing up. The sugary snacks that led to them having to keep there false teeth in glasses on the nightstand years later. I hoped, through this experience, to get in touch with what it was like for my grandparents growing up. And this was the best way to do it, because I’ll be damned if I try to go a summer in Texas without A/C. My results are as follows:
1. Beemans. My first thought upon seeing this package was this particular cartoon character:
But why would a Hispanic character on The Simpsons have a gum named for him? Then I thought that perhaps Beeman is a superhero of some sort.
The mighty Beeman, defender of freedom and upholder of justice for the citizenry of Buzzopolis, never rests, fighting crime with his trusted sidekick, Hornetboy.
By day, he’s mild-mannered Daily Wasp ace reporter Ted Hughes, but when danger rears it’s ugly head–be it in the form of a grizzly bear in search of honey or a can of Raid Wasp & Hornet Killer–he transforms into the protector of the hive.
I was beginning to think that perhaps Marvel was starting to really reach for ideas. It turns out, though, that Beemans was named for Dr. Edward Beeman, who, in the 1880s, added pepsin to chicle and promoted the resultant gum as a digestive aid.
I opened the pack. The stick of gum was your standard size, covered in a white powder–determined to be confectioner’s sugar–though lacking the distinctive cross-hatch pattern of most modern gums. I popped it into my mouth. The flavor took a few chews to come out. It wasn’t very sweet and what little flavor there was was non-identifiable. Biting the gum between my front two teeth, I noticed a slight grittiness. I chewed for about three minutes before the flavor was gone.
Overall, I’d give it 2 out of 5. It would’ve scored more, but the grammatical error of not including an apostrophe to indicate the possessive is inexcusable
2. Black Jack. The packaging stuck me as rather bland, not unlike those cans of Heinz Beans from England that show up in specialty shops here in the States:
This gum was freshly-poured-cement grey in color. Not the most appetizing shade for a candy, but I was determined to taste it.
One word: disgusting. Vaguely licorice-like, but not that licorice that you’d buy by the stick from the candy shop out of the jar, but more like licorice that had freezer burn. I spit it out after about a minute, then drank some Drano to cleanse my palate of that horrible flavor. I was tempted to take the loofah to my tongue, but decided that I didn’t want to be bleeding from my mouth for the next week, as that might be unbecoming to my coworkers.
Overall, I’d give it…well, shit…I don’t know. If there were some way to award negative point values, then I would.
Shit, wait…I’m writing this, I make up the rules. I give it -17 out of five.
3. Teaberry. I’m not sure what teaberries are. I mean, I’ve heard of tea and I’ve heard of berries and I’ve even heard of teabagging with your berries, but as for teaberries, no fucking clue. Oh sure, I could assume that teaberries are where tea comes from, but everyone knows that tea comes from little bags full of shredded leaves. Not berries.
The stick of gum was the traditional color of these sort of things–pink. I was pleasantly surprised, as most pink things taste good.
Unfortunately, teaberry gums really doesn’t have much of a flavor. There’s a sweet note and it kind of makes your tongue tingle a bit, but other than that, there’s not much there. But as far as chewing enjoyment, it was much better than the other two selections.
Overall, I’d give it 3 out of 5. Not great, but not bad. Fair-to-middling, as my grandfather would say, if he were alive. And not senile.
Having experienced firsthand these treats from times gone by, I’ve come to one conclusion: it must have sucked being my grandparents, because their candy sucked. And that’s not to mention that it must have sucked to be my grandparents because they were old.
You know, it’s sometimes hard running this website, what with the lack of content and all. And what makes it even harder is when the USPS doesn’t deliver your Rolling Stone issues in a timely manner and instead you get two on the same day and neither of them have letters inane enough to award an Inane Rolling Stone Letter of the Week Award to–which might be a sign of the coming apocalypse. I was thinking that I could write an essay or something, but the truth is, I’m pretty much all written out as I’ve spent the last few evenings working on my new novel. I can’t tell you what it’s about yet, as I’m not entirely sure myself–I tend to make these things up as I go, but I can tell you that the working title is “Moaner”, so that might give you a tantalizing glimpse of what’s to come. As far as content, I thought I’d throw out some more of the weird search terms people have used to find this site. Sorry I’ve once again stooped to this level of cop out, but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes.
Razor Cola RC Poem
Plano Pedophiles Hotel Stay
Shirtless Construction Workers
Virginia Woolf Bumper Cars
Red Wheelbarrow Communism
Dallas Street Whores
Getting old is not for sissies
Skankwhore (incidentally, SSW is the first result returned for this. Yay. Good thing we didn’t write it properly as two separate words)
H E Double Hockey Sticks
Nicole Kidman Lesbian Scene
Jabba licks Leia
mexican churro makers
oak cliff niggers
latent homosexual desire
Incidentally, everyone should watch “Mad, Mad House” on Sci-Fi on Thursday nights. My boss’ son Brent is a guest in the house. More importantly, though, is that there’s a hot stripper from Frisco on there named Jamie, which is an even better reason to watch, especially since she doesn’t look like she’s ever worked at the Santa Fe Room.