Troma Productions Presents: Slinky. This Time, It Pushes You!
So Marra did an awesome job, eh? Boy did I feel lucky at having skipped all the PMS shit that went down that week. Poor Marra. But mmm there's something great about running away when the shit hits the fan. I was all sipping screwdrivers and reveling in the peace found in not having to read every comment. I mean, it's a lot of fun but sometimes a lazy person just needs a break, yanno.
But I'm back, and it's been a fun week. We have a new writer (hi Will!) who seems perfect for this place (ie: evil and hilarious) and we have more reviews than ever. And admin had a baby and she's gorgeous with lots of hair and one day she will marry Snathbaby and they will rule the universe in a triumvirate with Kolbaby. It will be glorious. And ooh, "Mad Men" season 3 finally premieres this week and I have to remember to read Thursday and Friday comments early on because the weekend will be spent in a complete haze after the overwhelming ubersex powers of Don Draper. Even if he is an ass.
On to the goodies.
10. A story featuring The Hulk Hands:
My daughter, 4 years old, was playing next door with our neighbor's son and his buddy. The buddy told my Monkey that he and Neighbor Kid were going to play fight, so she should just back off because if they hit her, she would cry, since she was a girl. Monkey pulled on the Hulk Hands, slammed them against the ground and yelled, "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry!" She then proceeded to beat the boys with The Hulk Hands until the buddy cried. --Pinky McLadybits (aka Dangle McGee)
[Yeaaaaaah! I never hated my brothers more than when they would pull out that bullshit line. One time they tried to keep me from playing Legos--they were MY Legos too, the bastards--and I proceeded to wait until their friends were gone and then I destroyed everything they had built. Revenge was most sweet.]
9. I myself cry every time I hear Christopher Cross, tears of rage. The fucker beat Pink Floyd's The Wall for the Grammy Awards Album of the Year despite being the most enor- mously mediocre musician of his era. He personally taught Coldplay every- thing they know.
Christopher Cross is such a one hit wonder, Vanilla Ice makes jokes about him when he's not getting beaten up by Zombie Tupac. Christopher Cross is such a hack, Paul Haggis talks with him every Sunday to help him write his next script. Christopher Cross's Grammy is so undeserving, Milli Vanilli's Grammy became sentient, and goes to Christopher Cross's house every Sunday while Cross is busy with Haggis, and takes a shit on his bed.
Fuck you, Christopher Cross. I hope you spend the rest of your life covering Creed songs while locked in an underground vault with Scott Strapp for what you did. It's people like you that are the reason we can't have nice things in our society. -- George
[I love when George gets angry. Like he even knows who Milli Vanilli is...I kid.
And now, for another edition of Best Comments in the Best Thread of the Week, from the Lego Movie post...]
8. Sweet! I can't wait for the horror movie Slinky. This time, it pushes you. -admin
Fire: The True Life Story of Famed Caveman/Inventor Mmmggnhhhrraa -- branded
Elmer's Glue and Construction Paper: A Love Story
Elmer's Glue II. Cut by Scissors
Speaking of swiffers...
Ass Swiffer™: Adventures in the Dark --Cindy
Fuck All Of You, Now I Want Cheesy Poofs. The Movie.--Julie
Desk Calendar - Directed by Steven Spielberg, starring Tom Hanks as January, Leonardo DiCaprio as December, and Elizabeth Banks as June.
Hand Lotion - Directed by Edgar Wright, starring Simon Pegg as Pumpkin Pie Paradise and Nick Frost as Palmer's Cocoa Butter. --Doctor Controversy
Night Light: Last Stand Against The Darkness
Swiffer: Because Brooms Are For Bitches
Dust Mote 2: Dustier
Highlighter: Our Species Is Doomed
Philips Head Screwdriver: Seriously People, Get a Fucking Hobby --TK
7. I used to work in the merchant marine and one time in Indonesia, I was handed some kind of meat on a stick.
Mmmmm. Meat on a stick...kinda like the county fair!
Yeah, monkey doesn't taste like chicken. It tastes like monkey. Like Curious Fuckin' George. --harkness68
[We have a winner from that thread. There was some nasty stuff on that. Did I tell you I've had Iguana Soup? *shudder*]
6. Not to worry; I'm working on a screenplay for I Love You, Tulsa. The first vignette I've completed is about a married televangelist who falls in love with the daughter of a demolition consultant who is contracted to blow up a 100 year old Art Deco skyscraper to make room for a parking lot for the 15 year old church. Next up is the touching tale of an obese woman who slips in diaper shit in a Wal-Mart parking lot. I challenge you to keep from choking up as a good-natured meth addict helps her (eventually) get up off the pavement. In the final shot, when the pair of electric customer carts appears in frame with a "just married" sign and a race car number on the back of each cart, if you don't shed a tear of joy, you are not a human being. --laredo
5. I don't think we were supposed to know any of this.
We were not meant to watch the Teen Choice Awards any more than we were meant to know what a "Jonas Brother" is or be familiar with the plot of a "High School Musical". We cannot afford to have this sort of information crowding our brains. I need all that empty space up there for important stuff like the Indianapolis speech that Robert Shaw does in Jaws. Now, the fact that I know Twilight won a bunch of Teen Choice awards might have pushed some important part of Robert Shaw's dialogue out of my head.
We can't have this. This is sheer fuckery, Rowles. --greer
4. I wish I could tell you that Andy fought the good fight, and the Zombies let him be. I wish I could tell you that - but Zombieland is no fairy-tale world. He never said who did it, but we all knew. Things went on like that for awhile - zombie life consists of routine, and then more routine. Every so often, Andy would show up with less brains. The zombies kept at him - sometimes he was able to fight 'em off, sometimes not. And that's how it went for Andy - that was his routine. ...now, he's a zombie. --BarbadoSlim
[The best part is that I can totally imagine Morgan Freeman reading that. Try it. It's awesome]
3. 1. Mars Attacks
Fuck your Yankee blue jeans, you fount of ludicrosity. --Jay
[Jeebus. This might've made me squee a bit.]
2. When I was a teenager, and my mom and I weren't seeing eye-to-eye, she sat me down one evening to watch The Breakfast Club. "Why?" I asked. "Because you'll get it," she said. And she was right. At that time, at that place, I might not have "gotten" her, but I "got" that. When she saw I was responding, she rented Weird Science, and Pretty in Pink, and Uncle Buck--it was all about the bonding. We had a tough time in those days, together and in our own ways, but it helped us to see that we were not alone in feeling alone. That's what John Hughes will always mean to me (and I feel certain that I'm not the only one to say something like that tonight). A couple of years ago, when I thought she was disappointed that I chose grad school over getting married, I got a copy of Uncle Buck in my stocking at Christmas. RIP John Hughes. You gave me and my mother a language we both understood. --Baby Friday
[The news made me very, very sad. There'll never again be anyone like him. And that story was just beautiful.]
[and after that poignant moment...let's get back to what dominated the week here on Pajiba. Boobs. It was Boob Week. And this comment just tied it all up in a boobtacular bow.]
1. I don't think people would be okay with my cleavage killing them. It is one thing to have killer cleavage, and a very different one to have assassin tits.
No, it's not that my breasts are so mesmerizingly gorgeous that the mere sight of them will kill you. I don't shoot bullets out of my nipples like a fembot would.
Vermillion got it partially right. You will see me coming to get you and there will be a soft chant. Children's voices, to be more specific. Mah boobs.... mah boobs... lala... lala..... There will be creamy-white fog in the air and overhead lights... You will see my shadowy face... you will see my shadowy clevage...
They say the last thing you see before you die is a ring. A nipple ring.
I am the stuff of kryptozoology. Am I real, am I fake? Some people have claimed to have walked away from me and live to tell their story. I can't confirm nor deny that. Maybe Pookie didn't get banned... maybe he was just another one of my preys... maybe the trauma was so hard on him he had to reinvent himself just so he could come back here and warn others.
I can't say, really. I'm just a non-menacing Hispanic. --Sofía
PODER LATINO MOTHERFUCKERS.
Wait, no. I don't want you fools thinking I gave it to the awesome and all-around kickass Chilean because we share the same language (that of Badassery). Just...come on. That was fantastic, and jeebus. Killing with the boobs.
Can you comprehend the levels of AWESOME that that comment reached? I hope so. Because, damn. And ! And she has a SONG for it. The boobs, I mean! This woman! I want to have her babies, but I don't think Latin America (or the world) is ready for that. Danny Trejo ain't got nothin' on Sofia. She's the scariest hispanic alive. And, boobtacular.
Congratulations, Sofia. For the prize, I'm gonna ask the commenters for a vote on which DVD to give you. So, people: what's your favorite movie featuring a kickass woman? I say Kill Bill. Or Resident Evil. Vote, please.
See you next week!
PS: I'm going to be needing another proxy for the week after next, because I'm going to be going back home. So, if you're interested, start thinking about volunteering.
Figgy is a menacing hispanic. Don't be fooled by the niceness. She will eat your soul.