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December 18, 2008 |

By Brian Prisco | Eloquent Eloquence | December 18, 2008 |

At last, it has been heralded, that as many of the Pajiban faithful shall gather for the consumption of many frosty beverages and awkward shuffling. Throat punching and ass grabbing shall be abound. Mouth frothing rage shall belt forth from the gullets of the disbelievers. And that’s just going to be Dan, Seth, and I on the flight from LA.

I can’t believe we’re congregating in Austin, TX, though. After my first attempts to cross that godforsaken place, I vowed never to step foot on it’s fetid soil. And yet, I paid a fucking fine so that I wouldn’t be arrested upon stepping off the airplane. Once more, ye Longhorns, you get my money. Goddamn you.

Of course, from the way everyone’s been fucking hating on us reviewers lately, I can imagine what a ball this fuckfete is going to be. Seriously? You’re going to bash Agent Bedhead for her review of fucking DELGO? Asshole. What the fuck do you expect? You want a goddamn academic dissertation on some bitchass Z-grade animated feature? We make a valiant effort to review most of what gets released in theatres, but sweet merciful Buddha’s taint, sometimes a movie just sucks. It’s not easy to write a legitimate review for something that gives you an initial reaction of “meh.” How the fuck do you stretch the concept of “meh” into 1200 words? Ask most of the wannabes who started writing for Pajiba and FAILED.

I can’t wait for PajibaCon. Not only will I be sweating my beaverfrock off in a state I can barely tolerate, but with a group of people who’ll be lining up to tell us how much we suck. Awesome. It’ll just be like Kevin Smith at ComicCon.

Except fatter.

I don’t know shit about music. My favorite Pearl Jam album is TEN!

10. There’s the fear … that the person you’ll meet will turn out to be a serial killer.

Two words: T. K. — A Bowl of Stupid

9. The Hammer is his dreidel. If you know what I mean… — Sabrina

8. Women do inspire a ton of bloodlust in men. Like Troy. Or OJ. — dylanj

7. My dog died. But if she were here, a) she’d be zombie, b) she’d be laughing at those ads and barking about how real bitches don’t wear bows.

Should have buried her in the Pet Sematary, jM. Then she would be a zombie dog for realz. — Snath

Funny thing is, that apparently doesn’t work if they’re not dead first. The more you know. — jM

You mean they don’t come back double alive? Ooooooooh, whoops. No wonder my grandma hasn’t come back yet. — Snath

Then who’s that behind you?
 — jM

My boss. Shit, I’m fired. — Snath

6. There are so many different kinds of dork in that story that I don’t even know which one to mock myself for. — Genny (also Rusty)

5. So I take it this movie doesn’t have the same deep, moral philosphizing and thought-provoking genius of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians?

Thank the heavens — I need some feel-good, whacky hijinks to replace the horrible, deeply disturbing messages of mankind’s impending doom that Mr. Prisco’s frightening, unnerving Martians review hammered so relentlessly into my fragile psyche earlier this week.
I was afraid I’d never be able to leave the house again. — TMax

Oh thank God someone mentioned Mr. Prisco, even though it was in no way necessary or related! I was worried for a minute that not every article would be written by him or every comment section would end up about him. 
It’s a Christmas miracle. All hail Prisco! — The Land Snark

(I could never figure this out. In Andy Williams’ “The Christmas Song (It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year)”, they mention telling “scary ghost stories”. Who the fuck tells ghost stories at Christmas? Easter, I can understand.)

4. I once watched this PETA video about expolited, screaming, bleeding cows, and it really upset me…

and then Whoopi Goldberg showed up and I realized I was watching The View. — J_Capri

(Really? Is there a huge contingent of bunny-burger shops that I’m missing out on? Are there seriously that many celebrities wearing rabbit-fur collars on their Oscar dresses? At least it’s better than that huge hunk of mystery tendon they used to be rocking.)

3. GAWD, Journey.

I must say that, though I agree that Poison blows goats, I actually do think Journey is honestly “So bad, it’s Awesome,” because while I kinda feel Bret Michaels and the gang didn’t give two shits about their “music” as long as their bangs held in place and their groupies had enough coke to snort, Steve Perry and his crew motherfucking CARE. They care SO HARD. Look how hard they care in that video - the earnestness! The commitment to playing air keyboard in an industrial warehouse lot! The Cutoff Sleeves of Justice! The dedication to what is possibly the most ill-conceived video concept in the history of shitty 80s videos - it’s truly astounding.
Steve Perry and Bass-Guy’s-Moustache: I salute you. — Tammy

(Did you ever play the Atari game where you were the backstage bouncers trying to save Journey from attacking fans to get them into their bus? Greatest use of 8-bit ever.)

2. Does one “throw” an intervention, sort of like a baby shower? — jimbob

(And our number one, because I love to spread the hate:)

1. You misunderstand, Kayanne, it’s an internet hate, which means absolutely nothing. I generally like everyone on this site (except for spambots and the weirdos that come out to try and prove a point every once in a while) because they make my day way more enjoyable. Pookie is an damned Pajiba institution at this point. What would a day be like without Pookie? I mean seriously. Where else am I going to see the word cunt written at least a couple times a day?

I hate, because I love.

And yes, Pookie does haunt my dreams. They’re usually one of those dreams where you’re falling and falling. Normally you’d wake up right before hitting the ground, but I actually hit and feel myself die.

I wake up in bed, feeling groggy, and start my daily routine. After my shower, I get on the computer before getting dressed (who doesn’t do this, really?).

I jump onto Pajiba, scroll to the latest comment thread, and discover something….horrible. Every single commentor…is now Pookie.

I race back to the top of the page, and discover that the site has been renamed Pookiba. The tagline: “HELL IS OTHER POOKIES.” I realize that I have truly died, and have found myself in Hell.

Then I wake up in a cold sweat, and don’t go back to Pajiba until the end of the day, when the dream-terror has faded. — Snath

You think that’s bad? Pookie lives in Austin. We’ve set PajibaCon in his back-fucking-yard. But much like lightspeed or a non-amphetamine based diet pill, he doesn’t really exist. He’s a figment of the Internet, a coagulation of all the residual Tyler Perry fansites and Lil’ Jon-Lazy Town mashups, voiced by Lando.

Snath, drop us like you’re hot, a portion of cooter clothing, paintings you made while listening to the new Pink album, and your address so we can send you a T-shirt. Please write to dustin at pajiba dot com.

Against my best wishes, I’m going to be posting an EE next week, on Christmas fucking Day, just so you’ll have something to complain about while you’re home, sweeping up needles, putting out candelabra fires, and soaking up the blood of the non-believers with your Kwanzaa dashikis. I’ll be busy sweating off the winter layers with my brand-new Wii Fit.

The Top 10 Comments of the Week / Brian Prisco

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