Category Archives: tomfoolery

the misremembered ’90s: The Cure, “Wrong Number”

Oh, let’s just pretend it HASN’T been nine months since my last post.  I’m tired of excuses.  Actually, right now, I’m generally just tired.

So, here’s my favorite latter-day Cure tune:

The Cure’s musical record, post-Wish, is spotty.  Not “spotty” as in “a British kid with acne,” but “spotty” as in hit or miss.  Not “Hit Or Miss” as in New Found Glory’s first major label single, but “hit or miss” as in all over the place.  There’s some amazing stuff (about half of Bloodflowers, about 1/3 of Wild Mood Swings, “Wrong Number”, and “Underneath The Sky”) and some less thrilling stuff (everything else.)

But for sheer late ’90s pop joy, with chopper delayed synths that sound like guitars and over-compressed guitars that sound like synths, you can’t do much better – especially with our boy Robert flopping his nest of black hair about like so while he pips on about “lime green and tan-ger-ine.”

It’s a pity this song isn’t better known, because there’s some amazing parodies to be written – and, believe me, over Christmas Break of ’97, they bloody were.

For example…

“I had the best fried clams this side of Annapolis…”


“I had moo goo gai pan the size of an elephant…”

And those are just the food related ones.   There’s one I half completed, based on the plot of Les Miserables…

Fantine… Fantine… and Eponine

Are two tragic waifs in old Par-ee

Fantine…oh poor Fantine

the sickly sweet singer of “I Dreamed A Little Dream…”

skip to the chorus…




(hear ’em SINGIN’… hear ’em SINGIN’…)
And so on.


Goran Visnjic, however, offers his sweatsocks

If you’re a fan of ER, which I haven’t been for about ten years, then you know that tonight, George Clooney, Eriq LaSalle, and Juliana Marguiles are all returning to the show.  I say good for them – it’s important to remember where you came from, and to pay your respects to the place that made one-third of you a star.

What you may not know is that PETA wants to make George Clooney flavored tofu.  I would give anything – anything – to be making this up.  See, apparently, they got hold of Clooney’s gym towel, and are able to synthesize a “Clooney flavor” in the same way that artificial chicken flavoring is made.   Now, if I had the power to do this… I still wouldn’t.  But if I was the sort of person who was in the position to make Clooney-fu, and actually wanted to, I’d do it with the most reasonable of motives by which one would ever produce tofu out of Dr. Doug; namely, because it’d be funny.

However, PETA says they’re doing this in order to spare the life of a poor innocent animal from having to suffer the horrendous fate of being eaten, because PETA never has fun reasons for doing anything.   Their hopes are that some pig, or cow, or chicken will be able to live another day happily wallowing in their own poop, knowing that, come suppertime, the American people will be tucking in to bean curd garnished with George Clooney’s gym sweat.


PETA’s in the same category as community theater productions of The Laramie Project and late 90s, Ticketmaster-is-bad era Pearl Jam.  By which I mean: I get what you’re trying to do.  Heck, I even support what you’re trying to do.  But sometimes, you really need to just stop.

Mr. Clooney, for his part, has put the kibbosh on the whole scheme, and good for him.  Clooney tofu won’t discourage people from eating meat.  It would probably be expensive, for a start, it smacks of cannibalism, and at the end of the day, it’s still tofu.  Tofu only tastes good when you pour lots of soy sauce on it, which deadens the palate and prevents one from truly savoring the subtle notes of George.

But that’s the thing about PETA – they have the best of intentions, but their actions sometimes make me question their ultimate views.  Did they think this was a good idea because it’s a publicity stunt, or because, by using Mr. Clooney’s sweat without his permission, it draws attention to the circumstances animals are sometimes placed in without their consent?  Or did they do it because they see no difference between a human life and a chicken?  I’m worried that it’s the latter.

For the record, I rarely eat beef or pork – most of my protein actually comes from peanuts, eggs,  or fish.   I never eat veal or rabbit.  I eat chicken, but chickens are stupid.  I don’t know why that makes things better, but I feel much guiltier about eating an animal that has some capacity for reason and emotion, which is why I rarely eat pig products.   Chickens, on the other hand, are so independent of their brains that… well, you ever heard the expression “running around like chickens with their heads cut off?”  Like most cliches, it is firmly based in reality.   I detest animal testing, or any other form of cruelty to animals.  Greyhound racing disturbs me.   Heck, the Westminster Dog Show disturbs me.   But there is, I believe, a certain hierarchy, and call me cruel, but George Clooney isn’t on it.


Posted by on March 12, 2009 in politics, tomfoolery, tv, Uncategorized


talk about your inaugural balls….

Brief note:  so, recently, I was re-assigned from my cushy work-at-home-and-blog-whenever-I-damn-well-please job to a less cushy drive-twenty-miles-no-blogs-allowed job. 

Heh.  Noooo blogs allooowwwwed.  You’re not alllowwwwed

Oh, Snoopy – you’re so cute when you’re the hapless victim of an oppressive and arbitrary policy.  Awww.  Anyway, no blogs allowed at my current day job.  Also, I’m applying for grad schools and trying to make music and do productive things with my time, and this blog ain’t puttin’ food on the table, if you catch my drift.  Therefore, while I’m not suspending it, I’m also not necessarily going to be paying a lot of attention to it for a little while. 

However, I gotta talk about the inauguration.  I have a friend who I love dearly, but with whom I disagree vehemently when it comes to politics.  The other night, she exclaimed “Well, we’ll all be living in a Communist nation on Tuesday, so there.”   Right.  Because there’s absolutely no difference whatsoever between a series of infrastructure bailouts, specific and targeted tax hikes, and the temporary increase of the size of the federal government to deal with a specific and imminent economic scenario…. and, you know, gulags and shit.  I could have pointed out that the last eight years have had certain things in common with “Communist Russia”, with extreme state secrecy, a crackdown on civil liberties and, um, gulags and shit.  I could have also pointed out that the main reason America didn’t go fascist with the rest of the world in the 1930s was because FDR decided to put people to work building bridges and doing government-funded projects, and that American history has shown us that, every now and then, a little bit of socialism keeps us from cannibalising each other, but I’m really bad at snappy comebacks.

The point being this: capitalism ain’t going anywhere, folks.  Behold, the cavalcade of commemorative crap you can buy if you make your way down to the District of Columbia this week.  For example:

There’s nothing like casually comparing the legacy of a sitting President to a dirty diaper full of greenish, rancid-smelling, baby poo. 

See more over at the Slate slide show, Thongs We Can Believe In, here.  Yes, thongs.  Being familiar with Cafepress, where anyone can stamp their crappy band, webcomic, or improv troupe’s logo all over anything from coffee mugs to clocks to, yes, underwear, this doesn’t shock or suprise me.  However, blah blah if you actually decide to wear this to bed blah blah blah stimulus package.  Oh ho ho!

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Posted by on January 18, 2009 in politics, tomfoolery, toons, youtube


songs you don’t know: “Pork and Beans”, Weezer

Well, look, you’ve probably heard this song if you’ve had your radio on lately, but the video is what’s important here.

Remember when Weezer put The Muppets in their video for “Keep Fishin'”?  Well, this is sort of like that.  Except here, instead of Kermit and Miss Piggy, the band joins forces with the entire internet.  Yes, that’s right, the video features Kelly, the Numa Numa kid, the Star Wars kid, Miss South Carolina, Chris Crocker, the Banana from Peanut Butter Jelly Time… the list goes on and on.

It makes sense.  “Pork and Beans” is Weezer in their “hey, man, I’m gonna do my own thing and you can’t stop me” head space (also see: “The Good Life”, “In The Garage”, etc.).  Your more popular viral videos tend to feature someone “being themselves” for the camera, as awkward and silly as they really are.  The ones that aren’t sort of “cinema verite” for the digital age are generally just really clever, which is why it’s cool to see Liam Sullivan’s “Kelly” character here as well. 

Oh, and in lieu of pyrotechnics, Weezer is playing in front of a bunch of exploding soda-and-Mentos bottles. 


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on human cryopreservation and giant foam puppet heads.

You ever have one of those days where you go online to read about something, and before you know it, you’ve found yourself reading something completely different?  Today, to kill some time, I decided it would be pretty cool to learn about cryonics

(Wow.  That’s actually a pretty awesome pun. Cryonics?  Cool? Kill some time?  Get it?  No?  Aw, come on, man… why the cold sholder?  Haw haw…  no?  Okay.  Moving on. )

Read the rest of this entry »


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oh brave new world that has such things in it…

According to io9, a reputable source of all things nerdish, they’ve invented a… how shall I put this… it’s a computer mouse you can control with your penis.

No, really.

Not safe for work, obviously, unless you happen to work at the “mouse you can control with your penis” factory.

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Posted by on April 11, 2008 in nerd riot, not here, tomfoolery


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songs you don’t know: “Punk Rock Girl”, Dead Milkmen

There’s nothing much to say about this song, except that it’s awesome and you should know it.

Hoo-kay.  Dead Milkmen.  Mid ’80s Philly punk band with a sense of humor.  If you follow the history of Punk Rock from the very beginning, you’ll note that back in the 1970s it was totally okay to be punk and funny (i.e. the Sex Pistols were occasionally hilarious) and then in the 1980s it wasn’t okay to be punk and funny and we’re singing about serious stuff and ReAGaN $uck$, maaan! You could only get away with being snarky if you were the Dead Kennedys and you were doing it to make a point, or if you were the Dead Milkmen and you were, well, the Dead Milkmen.

My old high school band used to cover ‘Bitchin’ Camaro”, so this brings back memories.


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