I saw this in VICE magazine and it was written by Chris Nieratko, who is also one of my favorite writers in the mag (and also the guy that pukes up all the eggs and eggnog on JACKASS). He's also written a book SKINEMA and you should read it like your fucking life depends on it. Mr. Nieratko... once again you nailed it on the fucking head...
________________________________
You know what Id like the Nature Channel to do a special on? The extinction of machismo. It seems like my whole fucking generation is a bunch of faggots and it bums me out. And Im not even talking about the Chuck and Buck, suck and fuck, take-it-in-the-ass type of faggot. Through therapy and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Ive learned to tolerate those dudes. My problem is the fashion-victim art fags in the clever hats and too-tight T-shirts and corduroys that think because they dress like a pansy and paint or take out-of-focus photographs they are beyond getting their teeth knocked down their throat.
What happened to all my all-American blue-collar drunks that enjoy violence for violences sake? Are they all in hiding in Montana or are we just experiencing some kind of generational gap? I look around at these hip bars and I mourn the guy that once struck fear into peoples hearts with nothing more than a sideways glance. He has been replaced by limpwristed, emo computer programmers who wear womens panties and think that drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon is going to put hair on their chest and make them a man. I think we need to take it back to when everyone carried a knife and people got stabbed up on subway platforms just because there was nothing better to do while waiting for the train. This all may sound extreme, but I think its totally necessary.
Recently I came to realize that people no longer dread the lost art of threatening physical harm to others because no one does it anymore. Someone owed me a large amount of money for some time, and being the nice guy that I am, I allowed him to string me along for months with bullshit excuses of why he couldnt pay me the few thousand dollars he owed me. Once I realized he was taking advantage of my kindness and understanding and had no intention of paying me, it dawned on me that the males of my generation really must think that humanity has progressed so far that it is beyond breaking someones hands for even a few dollars. And it really hurt my feelings to be treated with so little regard, because you know, Im a nice fucking guy. I dont like to tell people Im going to show up to their office with a can of gasoline and a lit cigarette or that Ill be waiting for them at the bus stop with a baseball bat or that I made a copy of their house key that time they let me crash and that if they dont pay up theyre going to have to worry about waking up to a lot worse things than a fucking horse head in their bed. But luckily, it never came to any of that. But I still think we should do something to remind kids that life can sometimes be very painful. Possibly a spree of drive-by shootings. I think we should start in Silver Lake.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
SAD SAD STORY...PLEASE HELP!!!
Body: Everyone needs to take the time and read this. Just take a break from all your other stupid bulletins about who is gonna die or if your love life will suck for 7 years and be serious and do the right thing. Repost this or you have no soul seriously. A kid needs our help so do the right thing guys and gals.
Hi, my name is little Darren Frydendall. I am 3 years old, and I have a large protruding scrotum that makes it hard for me to walk, much less play and be a happy 3 year old. Since I can't play I weigh 400 pounds. 200 pounds of that is my scrotum. The doctors say that I will die of fatscrotumitis soon if my large sack isn't reduced to a wee little nub. My family is poor and can't pay the monthly bills that consist of payments of wheelbarrows, large jock straps, and jock creams. My family is so poor that we live in a boot at the bottom of a lake. The "Stop Spam because it fucks up my email Foundation" has agreed to donate 1 million dollars for every time this message is reposted to my bulging ballsack removal operation. For those of you who repost, I thank you so much you dumb fuckers. But for those who don't repost it, I will still pray for you. You are godless heathens and need to die and go to hell. Please, if you are a kind/dumb/bored person, have a heart. Please, please, PLEASE OH FUCKING PLEASE REPOST THIS MESSAGE!
Darren Frydendall
360-307-9197 Home
or email me at sodoff@youwanker.com
*hey it wont cost you but 10 seconds of your time to repost this you dumb sack of nails.
please tell everyone to post this out....
Hi, my name is little Darren Frydendall. I am 3 years old, and I have a large protruding scrotum that makes it hard for me to walk, much less play and be a happy 3 year old. Since I can't play I weigh 400 pounds. 200 pounds of that is my scrotum. The doctors say that I will die of fatscrotumitis soon if my large sack isn't reduced to a wee little nub. My family is poor and can't pay the monthly bills that consist of payments of wheelbarrows, large jock straps, and jock creams. My family is so poor that we live in a boot at the bottom of a lake. The "Stop Spam because it fucks up my email Foundation" has agreed to donate 1 million dollars for every time this message is reposted to my bulging ballsack removal operation. For those of you who repost, I thank you so much you dumb fuckers. But for those who don't repost it, I will still pray for you. You are godless heathens and need to die and go to hell. Please, if you are a kind/dumb/bored person, have a heart. Please, please, PLEASE OH FUCKING PLEASE REPOST THIS MESSAGE!
Darren Frydendall
360-307-9197 Home
or email me at sodoff@youwanker.com
*hey it wont cost you but 10 seconds of your time to repost this you dumb sack of nails.
please tell everyone to post this out....
"You should draw me sometime" TEE HEEE!!!
I love Myspace. I love people on Myspace, but what I really REALLY love are the girls on Myspace. I don't know what it is but there's a bunch who message me something like the following…
"I love your artwork! you should do a picture of me!<3 br="">
or
"Thanks for the add Sexy! You wanna draw a picture of me some time? ;)"
You pretty much get the point. Like I have nothing better to do then draw some conceited chick or "internet" model. I actually LIVE for facilitating the divine needyness of girls who didn't feel pretty in high school who now love to be told how "hot" they are by greasy guys on Myspace who look like human boners. I think "WOW!!! If I draw them will I get a pony? Will you pretend to be my girlfriend and make all of my other friends jealous at the next Dungeons and Dragons game?" I mean really… does someone who requests such a thing feel the least bit of apprehension that I might think that they're a complete joke when they finish asking?
So this little rant is about what happens when I get messages like this. So use your imagination with this one:
It's the crack of noon, I just woke up. Here I am in my Spider-man underoos checking my Myspace messages for possible work or funny spam about who has a crush on my penis or whatever. Then I get the "draw me" comment or message from BUNYLUV07 or some other lame shit name.
• First, I sigh. Mainly because it's such a conceited and shallow thing to ask (which we've discussed so I won't repeat too much)
• I then look at their picture.
• I usually laugh. They're usually not attractive at all (That's not fair… everyone has at least one thing that's attractive on them… like their nostrils or an index finger as per some of these girls I've seen). Or they are trying really goddamn hard to try and look attractive. They usually have self-shot pictures that are held at arms length over their heads to obscure their lovely corn-fed gut. The images are usually washed out or photoshopped to hide the… whaddyacallit… oh yeah… mess of their face.
• I send it to my girlfriend. I want her to laugh too but she wont cooperate. I wish she'd be harsh in these instances because mindless cruelty is best shared.
• So instead I send it to only a few of my friends. Not too many because I wouldn't want BUNYUV07 to get too much exposure.
• We laugh, because unlike my girlfriend, my friends are complete bastards who long to eat the raw, red meat of a downed bison or water buffalo like the jackals they are.
• Later we joke some more about the large poor wee lass. We talk about how we should draw her but real fucked-up like. With a mustache or with a babyarm or with one eye that kind of looks "that way" too much that's bloodshot, crooked teeth or a hump or riding a donkey.
• We laugh so hard we go drinking, take over a bus at gunpoint and run over a bunch of orphans.
It's an evil thing really, born out of the ignorance of a moment of conceit. This all could have been avoided if common courtesy were kept.
So please… spare yourself some really burning ears and don't ask me to draw you.
Unless you have cash of course.
"I love your artwork! you should do a picture of me!<3 br="">
or
"Thanks for the add Sexy! You wanna draw a picture of me some time? ;)"
You pretty much get the point. Like I have nothing better to do then draw some conceited chick or "internet" model. I actually LIVE for facilitating the divine needyness of girls who didn't feel pretty in high school who now love to be told how "hot" they are by greasy guys on Myspace who look like human boners. I think "WOW!!! If I draw them will I get a pony? Will you pretend to be my girlfriend and make all of my other friends jealous at the next Dungeons and Dragons game?" I mean really… does someone who requests such a thing feel the least bit of apprehension that I might think that they're a complete joke when they finish asking?
So this little rant is about what happens when I get messages like this. So use your imagination with this one:
It's the crack of noon, I just woke up. Here I am in my Spider-man underoos checking my Myspace messages for possible work or funny spam about who has a crush on my penis or whatever. Then I get the "draw me" comment or message from BUNYLUV07 or some other lame shit name.
• First, I sigh. Mainly because it's such a conceited and shallow thing to ask (which we've discussed so I won't repeat too much)
• I then look at their picture.
• I usually laugh. They're usually not attractive at all (That's not fair… everyone has at least one thing that's attractive on them… like their nostrils or an index finger as per some of these girls I've seen). Or they are trying really goddamn hard to try and look attractive. They usually have self-shot pictures that are held at arms length over their heads to obscure their lovely corn-fed gut. The images are usually washed out or photoshopped to hide the… whaddyacallit… oh yeah… mess of their face.
• I send it to my girlfriend. I want her to laugh too but she wont cooperate. I wish she'd be harsh in these instances because mindless cruelty is best shared.
• So instead I send it to only a few of my friends. Not too many because I wouldn't want BUNYUV07 to get too much exposure.
• We laugh, because unlike my girlfriend, my friends are complete bastards who long to eat the raw, red meat of a downed bison or water buffalo like the jackals they are.
• Later we joke some more about the large poor wee lass. We talk about how we should draw her but real fucked-up like. With a mustache or with a babyarm or with one eye that kind of looks "that way" too much that's bloodshot, crooked teeth or a hump or riding a donkey.
• We laugh so hard we go drinking, take over a bus at gunpoint and run over a bunch of orphans.
It's an evil thing really, born out of the ignorance of a moment of conceit. This all could have been avoided if common courtesy were kept.
So please… spare yourself some really burning ears and don't ask me to draw you.
Unless you have cash of course.
The most brutal review for a film I worked on... EVER!
I got a call today from a friend of mine who I'd worked on this film "Bunnywhipped" (it used to be named "Love, Fear and Rabbits"... I know... lame...) asking if I got my copy. I (actually myself, Tim Maloney, and Paul Springer) had done some animated interstitials for the film with because the film was... in a word... really shitty. The film just didn't work so we did these simple animated scenes to force the film to work. I think even if you re-filmed the film it would always and forever super-sucked. This director of this film is an example of a foreign guy who has too much money and thinks that they're creative.
So I found this review on DVD VERDICT. I cringed reading this review until I got to the 5th paragraph that mentioned our involvement with this bucket of celluloid ca-ca and the I just laughed...
The only things that are worth anything in this movie are the bafflingly short animated sequences that are awkwardly manhandled into serving as scene-to-scene transitions. Despite their poor placement, their obvious quality clashes mightily with the anus scrapings that sandwich them. For these are drawn and animated by the Creepy Baby Arm Animation House, people who actually know what comic books are. They provide fleeting moments of relief, like moist towels pressed briefly onto the parched lips of a man abandoned in Death Valley, left naked and covered in hydrochloric acid and acid-proof fire ants. It is because of these little sequences that I enjoyed the animated menu more than the film itself by enormous orders of magnitude. If this film had been entirely animated in this fashion, even if the craptacular dialogue, acting, and plot had remained intact, it would be exponentially better than it is now.
Oh man! What a hoot! Rafael Gamboa! I salute you!!!!
So I found this review on DVD VERDICT. I cringed reading this review until I got to the 5th paragraph that mentioned our involvement with this bucket of celluloid ca-ca and the I just laughed...
The only things that are worth anything in this movie are the bafflingly short animated sequences that are awkwardly manhandled into serving as scene-to-scene transitions. Despite their poor placement, their obvious quality clashes mightily with the anus scrapings that sandwich them. For these are drawn and animated by the Creepy Baby Arm Animation House, people who actually know what comic books are. They provide fleeting moments of relief, like moist towels pressed briefly onto the parched lips of a man abandoned in Death Valley, left naked and covered in hydrochloric acid and acid-proof fire ants. It is because of these little sequences that I enjoyed the animated menu more than the film itself by enormous orders of magnitude. If this film had been entirely animated in this fashion, even if the craptacular dialogue, acting, and plot had remained intact, it would be exponentially better than it is now.
Oh man! What a hoot! Rafael Gamboa! I salute you!!!!
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