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Ain't No Shame Like Charlie Sheen Shame

By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | July 9, 2009 |

By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | July 9, 2009 |

Ugh. It’s been one of those weeks, hasn’t it? Just about every American (or to use Sofia’s term—United Statian) I know seems to be paying full price for the debauchery of food, beer and fireworks that happened over the long weekend. And you know what? I’m jealous. We don’t have any cool Eat-Til-You-Puke holidays over here. You get St. Patrick’s, Easter, 4th of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving. We get to fast on Easter and then celebrate it by eating salt fish soup. I mean, that part’s good, but we don’t get to gorge on chocolate eggs. And our Independence Day is school kids on a “parade” while everyone bakes in the heat and drinks from little bags of water. Oh yeah. They sell water in bags over here. They’re kind of awesome … but tourists probably shouldn’t drink them.

And so, you return from your Holiday needing a holiday from that, and every bit of Hollywood news is depressing or enraging and it’s way too hot outside and…aah, Summer. I hate you. And it’s that sticky, suffocating heat that makes you cry and long for death or a margarita or both.

But, hey! At least your country isn’t being universally shunned right now! Godtopus, beer me strength.

I remember before I got this gig the EEs were the only thing that made Thursdays bearable as I counted the hours before I could go home and celebrate that THE WEEKEND IS ALMOST HERE. So, enjoy these precious moments and may your Thursday be less of a bitch than the rest of the week was.


[OK before we get to the Top 10 I’d like to give an Honorable Mention to a comment that I somehow missed while reading over my list of candidates for last week’s EE. That’s right, I have a list for the list. And somehow I was half asleep and somehow missed this one. So I won’t rank it, but it needs to be read:]

This war against the passive voice can no longer be tolerated! The streets will be filled with a sea of writers who have been taught that the language should be used to the fullest! Passive voice bigots will be shunned.

And someday, one of Stephen King’s books are finally going to get tossed into my ‘to read’ pile, because I keep being told positive things about his work. —Tyburn Blossom

[HA! I love our literary nerds.]

10. “Stripped down version of Breathe Me” is the second language barrier I’ve encountered on Pajiba. I thought Sia would be stripping as she sang and that it was so sad we’d cry.

The first language barrier was during a site survey and one of the questions read “How often do you use a segway?” I immediately assumed it was another word for subway, so naturally I answered “every day.”

I’m a dork. —Sofía

[Hee. I do that all the damn time. But my dumbest mistakes in English come from constantly mixing up ‘he’ and ‘she’, specially when I talk.. Because they’re so hard, right?]

9. Hey, seeing how Cody is a filthy and debauched ex-stripper, I wonder if the marketing will be aimed at her slacked-jawed, simian, demo of NASCAR enthusiasts at Talladega and Daytona.

All commercials should start thusly;


[How BSlim hasn’t been hired by a studio by now is beyond me. Come ON! Who doesn’t want to see Megan Fox get exploded? Yee-haw!]

8. California: We don’t celebrate the bourgeois Independence Day, instead we celebrate Comrade’s Day with tofu, arugula, and BBQ free range aborted fetuses. After an afternoon of surfing and obligatory gay orgies we settle in to listen to the Grateful Dead, fondle harbor seals, and smoke joints rolled out of pages torn from bibles. —Steven Lloyd Wilson

[*immediately books ticket to California for next year’s 4th*]

7. The “something else turns her on and it gets transferred to you” part of the female mind is not logical.

Oh, but how the process makes sense to us. Girl watches The Dark Knight. Christian Bale takes off his shirt. Girl gets turned on. Girl wants to fuck boyfriend. Girl sees a young dad playing with his kids in the park. She gets sentimental. Girl wants to fuck boyfriend. With protection. —Julie

[Boys? You should be taking notes. Oh, how I love Julie.]

6. I know I know that Michael Bay fucked it up so bad I know I know but I hear Optimus Prime voice and my heart goes pittersquee.

I just can’t… it’s like Jesus high-fiving a unicorn. With Winston Churchill and the Crocodile Hunter giving a standing ovation in the background.

So is my love for Optimus Prime. —twig

[Man, do I love me some taters.]

5. Dear Pajibans,

I owe you an apology. While we here are often given to ranting about the mindless pap much of America seems to “enjoy,” to the extent it is possible to “enjoy” the “work” of Jim Belushi, it seems I was neglectful of my own house. I learned this weekend that my mother is, in fact, one of those people.

While looking for something to watch Saturday, she complained about Commando and I wanted to shut her up, she said, “‘Two-and-a-Half Men’ is funny.” I stared at her slack-jawed.

She followed that with “What about ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’?” I nearly smacked her.

Fortunately, she was in my house so I could forbid her from infecting my home with such crap (we eventually settled on “Bridezillas”). She is unabashed about her love for stupid entertainment. She worships Tyler Perry.

What she wants, all she wants, from her books, movies and television is not to be challenged. She doesn’t want to think or feel. She simply wants to be distracted. She is by no means a stupid woman, but rather one who spent her life passing up opportunities only discover that her opportunities have largely passed her by. She is really quite unwilling to leave her rut.

Mrs. Bullet and I tried to restore equilibrium to the universe Sunday by seeing Away We Go (not bad, a bit uneven, fairly white in both cast and concept), but I still feel dirty. This apology to a community that understands the difference between stupid and ridiculous is an attempt to get clean.

Humbly yours,

T. Bullet —Tracer Bullet

[Tracer is a true Pajiba hero. Who doesn’t know his pain? Here’s my apology: Pajiba, I’m sorry that my sister’s favorite movies are The Da Vinci Code and Twilight. They are also her favorite books. I am so very, very sorry. I’ve tried. But she is beyond saving. And we might not be related.]

4. Okay, so in Ohio you have to … um … vote for old spacemen and hope Lebron hates big pretty cities that don’t sit on the shit-filled boil of America’s coccyx.
This is vague and unhelpful. Now I write:

So America is a normal person on their hands and knees, right? Alaska is obviously the head jutting out in fear of the doctor’s finger that will penetrate Maine or Massachusetts, depending on the gender (spare me ladies, I’ve seen a Pap Smear; just go with the metaphor). Florida is the knees. Texas and the rest of that shit is the overfed boobies/gut/generalfattycraziness going on down there, or the big stuffed panda bear you get to squeeze while the PHD examines your sinuses rectally. Southern California is the fear-filled, weight-bearing fists.

Now guess what the doctor found? A giant aqua-feces lesion on the base of your spine that you inexplicably named things like “Superior” and “Erie.” Eliminate it.

You’re welcome, America. —Kballs

[I wish someone would draw this. I bet I wasn’t the only one trying to picture it.]

3. Apropos of nothing….my 2 yr. old niece is developing this amazing speech impediment which causes her to pronounce words horribly wrong.

Example: Gora = Cereal & Dora = Water

Anyway, her mom has been trying to get her to say “Peace out Dude” and make a peace sign hand symbol for a while now (she thought it’d be cute for some reason). She finally said it today….well, sort of…

Her pronunciation: “Peace out Jew!” with a full on Nazi Salute….no lie

Yay for anti-semitism!! —ashes

2. Like any red-blooded Englishman, I hate the French on principle. I don’t trust their strange eating habits, their unshaved pits, their lascivious ways. Look at them! Riding about, on their bicycles, black-and-white striped shirts announcing their sexual liberalism, strings of garlic around their necks, smoking cigarettes with no regard for the wellbeing of others (second-hand smoke kills too, Marcel). I especially haven’t forgiven them for giving birth to the mime - perhaps the most sinister of all performance arts.
But I’ll give the hairy-pitted, snail-eating sex pests one thing - it seems they can put together a horror film.

Here’s an idea - how about a zombie movie, but instead of zombies, the shambling antagonists are mimes? I’d volunteer my services as an extra - particularly if there’s a scene in the script where I get to douse a bunch of white-faced ghouls with a flamethrower as they fake-rope-pull themselves towards me. —Dill The Devil

[Mimes. *shudder*. They are the lowest of the low. Damned whtie-faced crazy-eyed creeps.]

[And…our #1. Again, it’s a collection of absolutely perfect comments from someone who is legendary around these parts. And now he finally has a win. I salute you, sir.]

1. I’ve tried ordering the Big Bopper Combo before, but the waitress always ends up dropping it before she makes it to the table…

Wendel ordered the Bjorkfast Burrito, and we received a piece of burnt white toast cut into a star, sprinkled with feathers and served on a Bedazzled oven mitt…

The Beatles Burger was awesome until they took out two of the main ingredients…

[and the absolute winner]

About a week ago, I tried their Kanye Western Omelette, which was touted as

[Inspired by this column. A Prisco creation, of course.]


Those were all separate comments, too. He started early and kept them coming, and the thread watched in awe as every word out of Skitz’…er…hands turned into another glorious breakfast confection that needs to be implemented by diners the world over. But really, everything Skitz does is magic. He’s like our leprechaun or our Glinda the Good. Tim the Enchanter. Mary freakin’ Poppins. Pajiba owes you, sir.

I can’t even think of anything good enough to reward you with. Gummo? *ducks* I thought something with a diner. So, clearly, you are getting Diner. I’ve never seen it, but, come on! Rourke! Bacon! Guttenberg! You just can’t lose! If you don’t like it you can always punish Wendel or Conrad with it. Congratulations!

See y’all next week, if I’m still allowed by my government. They probably wouldn’t like Pajiba if they found out about it.

Figgy lives and rages in the mad urban jungles of Honduras.Check out her blog for somewhat incoherent updates on the Honduran situation, Cannonball Read book reviews and the occassional pictures of hot men.

Pajiba Love 07/09/09 | 10 Things I Hate About You Review

Dustin is the founder and co-owner of Pajiba. You may email him here, follow him on Twitter, or listen to his weekly TV podcast, Podjiba.