Categories
Shallow

The Humorous Life of Brian

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Mr. Williams: Not Robin, but almost as Funny.
“There’s definitely ways to try and capture that personality without taking away from what is a very serious newscast in very serious times… There are ways to find little moments of absurdity or humor in life and we’re going to try and find ways to do that—but, we have to find the right way to do that,” ” NBC News chief Neal Shapiro
(From, Only When He Laughs, Don Kaplan, The New York Post, Dec. 6, 2004.)
Some suggestions:
-Accompany Iraqi death count reports with “Waw-waw-waaah” horn sound effect from Let’s Make a Deal
-Refer to the president as “Cuddles”
-Five Words: Rip Taylor, White House Correspondent
-Swap out hurricane clips with footage from Land of the Lost
-Goodbye, bespoke suits. Hello, tuxedo T-shirt!
-When analyzing reports with Tim Russert, pretend to be all stoned like Cheech and Chong
-End each broadcast with an America’s Funniest Home Video-type clip, possibly a “blooper” from the Iraq war or amusing footage of famine-torn nations.
-New theme song by “Weird Al” Yankovic
-Overdub foreign-language speakers with Peanuts-style adult “squawking” voices
-Knock knock jokes. Lots and lots of knock knock jokes
-Get Mo Rocca: Everybody finds that dude hilarious

Categories
Shallow

The low culture Guide to Jury Duty

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The Jury Pool: Come on in, the justice is fine.
Jury Duty isn’t just your civic duty: It can be your civic pleasure as well. With these simple tips, your time in the jury pool can be productive, enjoyable, and above all safe. Failure to follow these suggestions may result in jail time, so be forewarned: What you are about to read could save your life.
-Make sure you haven’t eaten for at least twenty minutes before entering the jury pool so as to avoid uncomfortable cramps.
-Similarly, make sure you’ve drunk something—preferably a strong, alcoholic beverage—before the proceedings begin. It will lend a festive air to the entire affair, which is good, since you will probably want to kill yourself the moment you arrive ’till several weeks later when the details of the case will come back to you in nightmares. (But in your nightmare, the killer will be your dad: Don’t ask us, we’re not shrinks.)
-Don’t bring a book or a magazine unless you want your fellow jurors to think of you as some sort of snob. Furthermore, displaying the ability to read will lead directly to the court officers not selecting you for trial. Best to show up with a lot of photos of your cats or your grandchildren, the better to facilitate conversations with those around you. If you must bring a book, bring a Bible: Everyone loves talking about the Bible with strangers.
-It’s easy to get laughs in the jury room. Everyone there is stressed out and wants to be somewhere else: It’s a perfect recipe for comedy. When the court officer calls out your name and asks if you are able to serve, be sure to say something funny like, “Ready? I was born fucking ready!” Also, classics play well: If you can get a Whoopee Cushion through security, it’s worth putting on the judge’s seat. Your fellow jurors will thank you.
-Many people try to get out of jury duty by claiming to be racists. While this is a good strategy, we recommend using it to get out of other things, like childcare payments and doctor’s appointments. You shouldn’t limit your mock pronouncements of racist ideology just to the courts. Speak them freely (on the subway, at the supermarket) and you’ll start to see that you’re not the only one who thinks that way. You may even be invited to join some cool secret societies.
-Do not watch the clock. Everyone who’s ever gone through high school knows that watching the clock during a boring activity does not make time move faster. (Only meth can do that.) Instead, stare dead into the eyes of the person closest to you. Make a game out of it: How long can you stare at them before they turn away? Now, can you double it?
-This is so simple, it’s the easiest to forget: Case out the room for single people of the opposite sex. (If you are gay, you should confine this search to the restrooms, which, as we all know, are hotbeds of municipal butt-sex. If you are a lesbian, you should’ve already gotten a jury exemption and be seeking a partner at your job at the organic food co-op.) The jury pool is a great pickup scene, mostly because you already have so much in common. You’re potentially spending the next two weeks seeing this person every day: that’s a perfectly acceptable length of time for a relationship. In fact, it’s probably a little too long.
-Finally, if you are selected to be on the jury, you should not pump your fist and gloat. Be respectful to your fellow jury pool members who were not selected since they’ll be deprived of all the fun you’re about to have. Not everyone gets into this party, but you will set yourself apart by being gracious and serving with all the dignity your buzzed, staring, Whoopee Cushion-having ass can muster. Jury duty is an honor. Don’t make us regret living in a Democracy.

Categories
Grave

Super Fun “Ski-Mask-Wearing Iraqis” Quiz: Insurgent or Police Officer?

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ANSWER: Insurgent, as evidenced by his being situated near graffiti, which is illegal!

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ANSWER: Policemen, as evidenced by their being surrounded by toys, which are jolly!
EARLIER: Super Fun “Military-Incursion Home Destruction” Quiz: Iraq or Palestine?

Categories
Shallow

Bulworth meets Bush Worthless

001beatty.jpgThere’s an old joke, often attributed to Woody Allen, that goes:
“Q. What would you like to be reincarnated as?” “A. Warren Beatty’s finger.”
Somehow, I’m guessing whoever said that wouldn’t have said it about last night, when Beatty was honored by the Kennedy Center. (Check out Kennedy Center Salutes Six Artists, by John Files in The New York Times for a teeny-tiny photo of those fingers wrapped around Bush’s.) Poor, poor Beatty finger.
It’s a long, slow slide from Capucine to Julie Christie to Madonna to Annette Bening to… Colin Powell.
A sad one, too. Can a man’s finger kill itself?

Categories
Grave

This is where we un-ironically invoke the theme song to Team America

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Secretary of Homeland Security nominee Bernard Kerik and President George W. Bush? They’re real fucking patriots, you know?
RELATED: “America, Fuck Yeah”, from the Team America: World Police Soundtrack, with lyrics by Trey Parker

Categories
Grave

What you’re really hearing is the sound of the U.S. dollar collapsing

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Bon voyage! US Trade Representative Robert Zoellick, above, can be seen craning his neck to make out the muffled cries of “Help, help!” coming forth from the global marketplace. (Deficits, trade gaps, and subsidies may be awesome party favors, but no one wants their event dampened by a bunch of ne’er-do-well whiners in the back room, right?)
This week, Zoellick sets out to embark on a luxurious five-nation tour of Africa, in which he’ll visit Senegal, Benin, Mali, Namibia and Lesotho. In case you’re wondering, not one of these nations has been adversely affected by American trading stances or WTO antics. This is because the U.S. economy is ragingly successful right this moment, and we’re spreading that good cheer like it’s fucking democracy or something.
See you in Najaf, motherfuckers! It’s flat-tax time!
RELATED (well, in that it involves ‘money’, which, apparently, makes the world go round): Dollar Clobbered By Euro Again, Dec. 6, 2004 (CBS/AP)

Categories
Grave

Catch That Masked Man

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“For the life of me… I cannot understand why the terrorists have not attacked our food supply because it is so easy to do.”
-Tommy Thompson
(U.S. Health Chief, Stepping Down, Issues Warning, by Robert Pear, The New York Times, Dec. 4, 2004.)
Killing Americans through the food supply? Dude, that’s their fucking job. Yet another American industry, outsourced, I guess.
Related: Fire up your shitty “Bush ♥s Huckabee jokes now, suckers.

Categories
Grave

Didn’t America Vote Against the Gaze?

Our nation’s first “soft focus” president, parading his various cabinet nominations before the media in the White House’s Roosevelt room:
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Department of Homeland Security nominee Bernard Kerik, alongside President Bush in the background.
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Secretary of State nominee Condoleeza Rice, with President Bush, again, in the background.
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Yes, there’s a trend here: Attorney General nominee Alberto Gonzalez, with President Bush in the background.
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Department of Commerce nominee Carlos Gutierrez mixes things up a bit, while nonetheless retaining those sharp-focus good looks.

Categories
Grave

God, Everyone’s Fleeing to Canada Now That Bush Won

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Triumph, The Insult Comic President in Canada
Earlier (And Strikingly Similar Visually): Breaking: Insult Comic Dog Causes Civil War in Canada

Categories
OC-centric Shallow

The O.C.: Don’t even worry about coming out of this closet

oc_tatedonovan.jpgYou’re looking good lately. Really nice, even. Those pecs…you’re packed tight, man. Nicely chiseled. You’re working out, aren’t you? Yeah. You are.
It’s reassuring to know you can watch The O.C. every Thursday night while you’re on the stairmaster at Bally’s 24-Hour-Fitness, plugged in to little more than a set of earbuds and, don’t you know it, an entire world of opulent gorgeousness. This is the sort of drama you dream about mindlessly as you polish the sweat from your glistening calves. Of course, the television sets lined up next to the one blaring FOX’s hottest second-season property may try and distract you with their depictions of a smirking Bill O’Reilly or some aging Matt LeBlanc character study, but you won’t be swayed. You understand guys like Tate Donovan, you really do.
He looks a lot like that guy who comes in on Tuesdays. That guy. He lingers around the benches for about thirty minutes. Eyes you as he pulls up his socks around his shins. You’re sure he’s the most beautiful man you’ve laid eyes upon…at least at this gym, right? Ha. You know what I’m saying. You’re a total pro.
And Catherine keeps calling you from the car. You just know she’ll be home before you, destined to get off early from her freelance gig at Leo Burnett. Why don’t you tell her about this guy? This perfect specimen of O.C.-esque beauty laying out in front of you, his arms pushing and pulling on the bars of a free-weight machine, such that you’re just positive what he’s doing with those lifts could “plug-n-play” nicely with your own frame.
You’re glistening, again. Sweating. Excited. And Catherine keeps on fucking calling you, and you just let it go to voicemail. What the fuck, right? Let her bring something back from Koo-Koo-Roo or California Pizza Kitchen for the two of you to eat later that night. The fuck if you care, right? You’re all over this guy. All over him. And he’s reading you just right.
Time to towel off, then. You nod at each other. It’s not even like some obscure code anymore. You know the drill. And he doesn’t even bother wrapping himself in a towel as the two of you leave the gym’s shower and head to the back lockers. Again, you know the drill. And, fuck, it’s a good thing Catherine doesn’t, right? God, would your life be over, or what?
And speaking of, you better finish up in here. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Right there. Sharp, so sharp. This may or may not be the world’s longest commercial break, but you don’t want to miss seeing the end result of Marissa’s hooking up with the pool boy. Pool boys. So perfect. So very, very right.
Actually, I’ve never seen The O.C.: I’m sure it’s pretty good.
The O.C. airs at 8PM EST on FOX.
Earlier: Obligatory Pop Culture Entry to Prove We Haven’t Become Humorless Prigs; O.C.D.; The O.C.: Your One and Only Friend; The O.C.: Your ‘Not Guilty’ Pleasure.