By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | February 7, 2011 |
By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | February 7, 2011 |
Ahoy there, gang!
Are you recovering from your Supra Bowl Sunday Festivities? Are you regretting eating that 15th cheeseball accompanied by that entire side of bacon dipped in mayonnaise? Are you miserable because your team lost and you drowned your sorrows in a vat of lukewarm beer? Cheer up, the world goes on and at least the Puppy Bowl was adorable, right?
Obviously, as I’m writing this at 3pm on Sunday I don’t know who won yet. I don’t like football very much so I’m not terribly excited. All I know is that there’s a team whose fans like to wear giant cheese wedges on their heads, and because I am a fan of both stupid hats and cheese, I’ll be rooting for them. In the battle of life, cheese should always win.
Now, I’m gonna take a minute to actually be serious. Sit down. Look me in the eye. Look at me. I’m gonna tell you (you know who you are) something very serious.
OK? Listen, I don’t know what’s been put into your morning milk lately, but just about every single post these days has some person (usually the same troll or two) whining about the article, or about the writer, or about the comments, or about the font we use or how the air is too airy or the sun is too bright. I mean, Jeebus wept. I know the writers here can take it (they’ve heard way, way worse before, probably from like, their moms), but if I have to read another whiny comment about how a certain post doesn’t cater to your exact specifications and needs, I’m gonna scream into your ear for an hour. And I’m usually pretty good at skipping the whiners, but lately it’s just getting ridiculous. Just have a sense of humor, people. Don’t take things so damn seriously. I, and the rest of the community are begging you to just have some fun.
I know I sound like an old, annoying lady (whining about whining!), but it’s for your own good, really. You’ll live longer if you can learn to laugh things off and not whine so much. I’m trying to do it myself. It takes self-control, but I know if I can do it, so can you. Let’s all just try to take things a little more lightly in ‘11, hmm?
Except when it comes to Ashton Kutcher, because seriously, fuck that guy.
And since I’m getting things off my chest, let’s retire the word “Overrated,” huh? I know you guys are smart enough to think of a better way to describe your dislike for a person or thing than using that stupid, near-meaningless word. You did it with the “bunk” thing, so make me proud.
OK, I’ll shut up now and let you whine away in the comments, because I know you will. But before you do that, read this choice list of great comments and remember what Pajiba is all about: being really, really disgusting (not really, but, you know). And you get an extra 5 for being tasty.
15. Dustin, I have nothing against you, really, in fact I’m sure you’re a lovely guy, but dear god I love nothing more than when you watch a horrible film. Your misery brightens my day, your despair makes me cackle with glee and every tear you shed in boredom is like the Gods’ nectar. I’m sure you’ll be rewarded for your suffering in the next life. You’ll be reborn as The Mighty Smiter of Witless Fucks. —Joker
[I think we all feel the same way, no? Dustin’s pain is our joy.]
14. I find that I find that endgame [a troll] needs some fun in their life. Ride a pony!! That will get the stick out of your ass. Or impale it further. Either way, the Joanna wins. —Julie
[I find that a lot of people could benefit from that advice…]
13. As far as I am concerned, Brian Wilson can go an suck on Tom Arnold’s asshole. The guy is such a douche. He’s come to think that he’s so cool he always has to be ironic or random. I never thought a hipster could play baseball. I thought they were always too busy trying to collect old pairs of Pumas, or trying to develop a pillow fighting league in some shitty squatter’s apartment in Brooklyn.
This guy has become a caricature of himself. Sure hope his shoulder doesn’t explode like a pigeon filled with alka-seltzer…cuz gosh-oh-me-oh-my that would be tragic. —PissBoy
12. Does anyone else like to think of dazed and confused as the childhood story of Tim Lincecum? —Mike
[Confession: I have no idea who Tim Lincecum is. But I was threatened with something or other if I didn’t put this on the list. I assume it’ll be funny to some of you.]
11. Director: Don Dickhausen
What, was Sam Schlongmaison busy? Craig Cockabode not around? Jim Johnsonranch?
I’ll go away now. —D-Day
[Don’t, D-Day. We’d miss you.]
10. Report: Everything can and will kill you. If it feels good, tastes good, or looks good it will kill you that much faster. The most harmless looking object you can think of can kill you. Anything that looks benign is really just lying in wait for a moment of weakness to pounce upon you and kill you. Your pet rock will kill you, that sprig of broccoli will kill you, that rainbow over there yonder will kill you, even your sleeping infant Will. Kill. You. In fact, even your own body is out to get you. In other words, it’s a kill or be killed universe, we are all at the top of everything’s list and no matter what you do something will eventually succeed.
You can sit around in fear of everything worrying about the inevitable or you can beat everything else to the punch and take your self out of the equation first- coz that’ll show ‘em.
Or you can say, “Fuck it”, and just try to to hang around for a while letting the ride take you where it may enjoying every minute of it. Oh sure, you can deny everything out there that might bring you an ounce of pleasure in the hopes of hanging on for a few more collective minutes, but rest assured it won’t be nearly as fun.
PS- Remember kids, Steak & a BJ day is coming March 14th. —bleujayone
[ I just loved the eloquence and truth of this. Also: STEAK DAY!!!]
9. indiscriminate sex is still way less likely to give you cancer than sunbathing.
Just to be on the safe side, I’ll only be using condoms with an SPF rating of 30 or higher. Oh, and be sure to reapply, kids. —branded
[=====* That’s supposed to be a shooting star, but it looks like a pixie stick.]
8. i’m not feeling the brie. i like her on community, but there’s a tiny part of me that wants to punch her in the face a little. i loves the bullock. i just do, goddamnit!
i’m straight as a motherfucker, but i would touch kate winslet where she pees, or, to be grammatically sound and olde englishe “i would touch kate winslet in the area from whence the urine doth floweth.”
sounds classier, i think.
—stopthemadness formerly and currently known as Angry Black Lady
[You’re as classy as your name is long, dear lady. I also love that people will hurt after your lack of capitalization. I like giving.]
7. A parsec is a unit of distance, not time. See, the Millennium Falcon’s navicomputer is its real secret weapon. Traveling through hyperspace is all herky jerky and not a straight line, but the Falcon is very good at plotting out a relatively short route. —Jay
[The nerdiness makes me all tingly!]
6. The lives of several couples and singles in New York intertwine over the course of New Year’s Eve.
I would see this. Yup. I would go out my way to a theater where there’s never any street parking and pay seven bucks to use their underground lot. I’d skip the matinee and leave my old student I.D. at home, just so I could pay full price for a ticket. I would forgo sneaking in a delicious purse burrito to instead pay twice the price of my ticket for a gigantic soda that I won’t drink a third of, a KFC-sized bucket of popcorn that I’ll stop eating after a few bites because a kernel will get lodged in my throat and I’ll spend the rest of the night trying to cough it up, and even some Reese’s Pieces because, dammit, I don’t have enough cavities.
I’d do every last one of those things if they promise that the film takes place on December 31st, 2011… and all of those interconnected asshats (especially the impossibly cute kid that’s always in these shitfests) die at the stroke of midnight on January 1st, 2012 in a symphony of sweet, sweet Mayan apocalyptic destruction.
Hell, if they can promise that Nice Cube and Kutcher’s characters get sucked into a sinkhole filled with fire ants, I’d even bring a friend. -jM
[I’ll supply the fire ants. There’s loads of them in Dallas!]
[This next one’s about poor, maligned Orlando Bloom, from this terrible news post:]
5. The man is a dick. A plank. A dickplank. A useless waste of breath, screen time, bandwidth, gigabytes and wood. —zeke the pig
[Poor Orly. Though that insult is just fantastic.]
4. Poor Scully, he was dead the minute he mentioned retirement. Adding in his daughter’s upcoming graduation and his plans to sail around the world just made it worse…
So remember folks: if you suspect you may be living in a 1980’s action movie and have a close friend who is a one-step-from-suspension supercop (or a retired special forces operative trying to forget his violent past, or a professional thief who’s about to pull one last score before getting out of the game) it’s important to act world-weary and downtrodden. Make comments like “I’m too old for this shit.” Work to become the plucky sidekick, or the comedy relief.
At all costs, don’t let Ret-irony happen to you. Every year 12,740 police officers are gunned down within a week of their retirement, and every year more than 200,000 mooks are killed by their partners in retribution.
This has been a message from the Society for the Preservation and Education of Plot Cliches. —Wintermute
[Another long, but good one (That’s what she—no, sorry.).]
[This one is a…conversation…thing…that came out this post, and I imagine that the snow didn’t help maintain anyone’s sanity. But nevermind where it came from, just enjoy]
3. The proximity of a LHOTP [Little House on the Prairie] reference and “petrol” just made my brain go a little covered wagon. —Ian
Mary was blinded by a velociraptor that wandered into their barn one night in a storm. She tried to give it some old bread crusts and fresh milk and the velociraptor clawed Mary’s eyeballs out of her head with its huge back claws.
Right? —Pinky McLadybits
Silly Pinky, everyone knows it was the dreaded Snow Chupacabra that blinded Mary. —Ian
NO, IAN. The Chupacabra destroyed the livestock and caused the people on the Prairie to start burning witches. Starting with that bitch Nellie Olsen. —Pinky McLadybits
I have an advanced degree in Chupacabra Husbandry and Study of Its Insides. So, you know. That’s why I know Alot about them. —Pinky McLadybits
Cutting one open with your Prairie Lightsaber and curling up inside it does not a degree make. Nice try. —Ian
[…And it went on for a while. Do yourself a favor and read the whole thing, hmm?]
[This next one’s regarding the news—nay! The impossible DREAM of a Con-Air Sequel]
2. I suppose you could just recycle the same plot but put it on a boat or a bus or a train
Do you want Con Air 2: The Speedening? DO YOU? Maybe we should check with Jason Patric’s people*.
* Let’s be honest. Jason Patric doesn’t have people. —branded
Mr Patric has people. They are called creditors and they would like to talk to him about an unresolved matter of 1285.00 remaining on a set of hair plugs from “Glamazon’s house of Chinchilla hair”. —mrcreosote
[Poor Jason Patric. Sandra Bullock should be eternally grateful to him for being the one whose career was destroyed by that movie.]
[Our #1 this week is funny as well as beautifully eloquent. It was actually posted a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t get a chance to put it on a list last week, and it deserved a list as good as this one. It came from this post (which was pretty eloquent itself and you should read it), and I think it’s the best response to a troll I’ve read, even if the troll will never bother to read it]
:: pushed to the front ::
[muttering] Okay, I said okay! I’ll do it. [clears throat]
Good afternoon [insert name here] the Internet Troll(s).
We here a Pajiba welcome you and your ability to track down websites on which to be inflammatory as well as to type opinions to which you feel we are all entitled. We are an occasionally capricious, but generally consistent bunch. Inclusive of both persons willing to express their opinions and to politely listen to those of others, whether contrary or not, to our own, we quite enjoy witty ripostes and displays of verbal dexterity. If you read carefully, you may even notice occasional literary or film references incorporated to delight the reader. Feel free to reply in glorious verbal technicolour!
By consulting your program, you will find that we have certain banned words here at Pajiba and respectfully ask that you refrain from using them. If you accidentally incorporate one, or all, of them, the Post Comment button has a convenient feature to let you know your error and gently redirect you to an editing station.
We reserve the right to eviscerate your opinions, grammar and syntax with ruthless efficiency.
Should any of the commentary mention a “basement,” I respectfully suggest that you retreat to safe distance.
Thank you and enjoy your stay.
Congratulations, Mrs Julien, you win for being awesome. It’s easy to dismiss the trolls with a simple “fuck you,” but you did it most eloquently and scathingly. Bravo. You can celebrate as you see fit, so long as you invite me and there’s plenty of Hamm.
So there you go. Don’t forget to wait til next Tuesday to buy all your cheap Valentine’s candy, and don’t forget that even if your team won or lost, you do have to keep on living. Have a good week and try not to have too many nightmares of men in tights with long, flowing locks.
And don’t whine so much, please.