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by Richard Timothy | Dec 11, 2009 | MST3K, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Observationally Speaking
MST is one of those symbols of permeating happiness for me. I can watch episodes by myself or with friends and quote along in giggly goodness, or I can have an episode playing in the background, like right now, while I work on my writing, or even while playing the occasional game.
As background noise, I love it. I don’t have to pay attention at all, but every now and again something will sneak through and I’ll start smiling or laughing. Even if I can barely hear it, I can look up from what I’m doing and if I know the episode really well, I’ll start chucking to myself because I know what riffs are coming up next, and I know they are going to make be laugh. They always do.
One of my favorite things to do is take a nap on the couch with an MST playing on the television. The collection of riff after riff is a lullaby of humor. I fall asleep and wake up smiling, and on more than one occasion I’ve even waken up laughing. It’s the perfect ingredient to the perfect nap.
Which finally brings me to today’s MST feature, Space Mutiny. I believe the cover of the 2008 DVD release describes this film best by stating, “It’s hilarious, but not on purpose.” Which is true, unless you are watching the MST version, then it’s most definitely on purpose. My main reason for highlighting this film is because it has been my giggle to sleep companion the past few times I have taken a nap.
When describing this film, I think it’s important to point out that all of the space scenes are taken from the original TV series of Battlestar Galactica. The only thing I could think of that makes sense for why this was done is that the director won some Battlestar Galactica stock footage in a poker game and decided to make a film around it.
The inconsistencies throughout this film are simply astounding, and is probably the only consistent thing about the film. I think Mike sums it up perfectly during the opening credits. As the Edited By credit appears, three names appear below it, and Mike quips, “Passed from editor to editor in a desperate attempt to save it.” And you know what, each one consistently failed.
One of my favorite moments in the film happens when one of the ships crew members, not wearing red I might add, gets killed by the films evil villain and then in the very next scene the dead crew member is sitting at her work station on the bridge of the ship. They even walk past her a second time letting her fill the foreground of the shot. Apparently it wasn’t enough that she appeared once in the scene so the few people still paying attention while watching the movie might notice, oh no, they just had to show her a second time just so the people that did catch it the first time could prove it to everyone else who missed it. It’s always nice when a movie gives you a freebee like that, so you tell your friends, “See! I told you!”
The hero of the movie, Slab Bulkhead, no wait, it was Fridge Largemeat, no, no, I think it was Punt Speedchunk… bah, I have no idea. Oh wait, that’s right it’s David Ryder. He’s a big beefy guy who screams like a little girl constantly throughout the film. Personally I think this makes him an anti-hero, but considering the lack of hero options, you’re pretty much stuck with him. This brings me to my favorite part of this film… Mike and the bots endless barrage of nicknames they give to our hero throughout the film. Here are a few of my favorites:
- Bolt Vanderhuge
- Thick McRunfast
- Blast Hardcheese
- Crunch Buttsteak
- Slab Squatthrust
- Big McLargehuge
For the complete list, click here.
If you are a fan of the show and have not yet seen this one yet, or if you’ve never watched an MST before, this one is worth the effort. Don’t get me wrong, it is a bad movie, and sometimes its worse than bad, but it is worth it. Here, I’ll even make it easy for you to find:
[googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8590533394044637016&ei=33chS9iQFYrOqALulLDFBQ&q=Space+Mutiny&client=firefox-a#]
If the video does not load, click here.
I think one of the best things about watching an MST’d movies is that no matter how bad the movie is, you truly feel a sense of accomplishment at the end. Not only did you make it though a film that even a mime would give the finger to and personally call the director to tell them what a piece of shit it was, while still wearing their mime garb, but you finish the picture smiling, sometimes laughing. There’s also a good chance you will actually tell your friends that the cinematic abomination you just watched really wasn’t that bad… I mean it’s bad, you don’t lose all common sense, it just that it’s not THAT bad. Call it what you want, but be being able to do that to an unwatchable movie is nothing less than miraculous.
What are some of the movies that you think should be made fun of? Do you think we should start a petition to get the MST crew sainted… saintified… sainthooded? That thing that old people in funny hats do to people who do miracles? It’s a thought anyway.
Image credits:
Google Images, keywords: Space Mutiny and watching mst3k.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 10, 2009 | I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Observationally Speaking, Utahism
Damn snow! Yesterday brought our first big snow storm of the year, which resulted in about 12 to 14 inches of crystallized fluff violating everything with miles. For some of you, I’m sure that much snow is the breakfast equivalent of that thin layer of powdered sugar sprinkled over your order of French toast or flap jacks, you know, based on the big picture. But for me, let’s just say that fluffy white stuff just pisses me off.
I’ve always felt it was some sick sadistic cosmic joke that I was born in Wyoming, and have such an utter lack of appreciation for snow. I moved when I got the chance and eventually I got to Utah, and even though they claim, “the greatest snow on earth” it does not mean the most snow on earth. The winters here are a hell of a lot more mild than the ones I had to suffer through in Wyoming. Not to mention, the school system in Wyoming has no concept of “Snow Day.” In 12 years of going to school there, the only time we ever got out of school because of the weather was because it was 45 below and we got to go home half a day early. But the next day it was only 40 below so everyone was required to be back in school.
I’ve had a few of my snow lovin’ freak friends suggest that I try winter activities to help me enjoy the winter more. I usually punch them then they make this suggestion, well at the very least I infer that then they get home I hope their mother crawls out from under their porch and bites them on the leg. Not to mention I have a winter hobby, to stay inside as much as humanly possible.
My problem with winter, and snow, and ice, and all the crap that goes along with it is the cold. If snow wasn’t, well, frozen I think I could actually find myself participating in some of those winter pastimes. Sadly, I have an immense distaste for the cold, actually make that the frozen… whether I mean, cold drinks I’m a big fan of, and were would be if we had not ice cubes for our margaritas on the rocks. I’ll tell you, we’d be drinking something else and there would be a lot more dignity in the world because there would be a lot less stories in the world that begin with, “No margarita for me, I don’t drink tequila any more…” Still, when it comes to a frozen wonderland, seriously Jack Frost, bugger off!
I get that snow is a necessity for this planet. And yes, I will concede that it is pretty, at least it use to be. It use to be that the first snowfall of the year would make me go, “Ohhh, pretty.” Not so much anymore. Not the first snowfall makes me go, “DAMNIT!” and I get all grumpy. Although, I can look at pictures for snow capped mountains or photo’s of winter scenes and agree they are pretty, but I’d never want to go there, at least while the snow was there.
So you can imagine my joy when I open the garage yesterday morning to head to work and saw 14 inches of snow covering my entire driveway. And for the record, this is nothing like putting a bee in ones bonnet, it’s more like putting a popsicles up your… no… sun… place, which I would consider much worse… unless of course you are allergic to bees, in which case, fine you win.
The snow shoveling would not have been that big of a deal if it were not for the fact that we live in a cul-de-sac, meaning the city will not plow there. It only took about 40 minutes to shovel out my driveway, which wasn’t that big of a deal. The problem was the road beyond it. It was just as saturated with snow, except for the area where the cul-de-sac meets the main thru road. The snow plows were kind enough to add an additional 8 to 10 inches of compacted snow right at that T section, helping to block any possible chance my car had of escaping the cul-de-sac so that I could get to work.
Filled with that, “I’ve got to get to work” feeling I started shoveling the road, hoping that in some small way it would make enough difference so that I could get enough of a running start to push though the fortress of snow blocking my waiting commute. After an additional thirty minutes of shoveling, my lower back was screaming a slew of profanities at me, and I conceded to Mother Nature, that relentless bitch, and called the day what it have finally become… a snow day. But not the kind of snow day that suggests that I would actually be engaging in day of snowish activities, no I mean the type of snow day where you do your very best to avoid touching any more snow than you possibly have to.
Once back into the house, called work. I told them I’d be working from home a much as I could and that I would not be able to make it in. I then downed five ibuprofen, ate a piece of toast, when upstairs, got out of my half frozen clothes and took a very hot bath and let my back soak in some liquid sunshine. Once I was warmed up enough, I took a little nap.
Once I got back up, it was time to work… in my pajamas and slippers! I listened to Frank without wearing any headphones and sang along at the top of my lungs. I ate lunch sitting on my couch, watching a collection of RiffTrax shorts. And I didn’t have to drive on frozen roads in traffic to get home when I was done. Yeah it was one of the best work days I’ve ever had. So, still with in some protest let me say, thanks nature. Your relentless, yet necessary, distribution of frozen water made for a pretty damn cool Tuesday, no pun intended.
What are some of your favorite ‘Snow Day’ experiences? If you got caught in this storm, how did your day go?
Image credits:
Google Images, keywords: snow day, shoveling snow, Jack Frost MST, and working-in-pajamas.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 8, 2009 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Observationally Speaking, Utahism
In reading some of my replies, I suppose I should clarify, yes I understand there are always exceptions. What I’m saying is that if the exception becomes the rule then you’re a bad parent. But know I still love you, and people can change.
As promised, in follow-up with yesterdays post, here is a collection of some of my own personally witnessed crap-parenting situations. The first experience that always comes to mind happened a few years ago. I was personally attached to this situation and yeah, let’s just say that looking back, I could have handled the situation a little differently, but that’s hindsight for you, it’s only helpful after the fact, which makes it not very helpful at all.
So my wife and I went to dinner with some old friends. It had been a long time since we had seen them, and I was looking forward to a catching up with them and seeing how life had been treating them. We decided to meet downtown at a local micro brewery/restaurant for dinner. We both arrived around 7 and met up at the front door.
I wasn’t expecting them to bring their four kids, but when I saw them standing next to their parents I actually thought for a second that maybe things will be ok. That thought lasted about 10 more seconds, and then the mom said, “These guys usually eat around 5 and are getting ready for bed by now, and the baby is teething.” My stomach sank and I started clinching my mouth shut, and that’s how I stayed most of the night.
Seriously, who the hell does that? I wanted to give both parents a “stupid slap”. You know the slap. It’s the one you instinctually have to stop yourself from giving someone when they say or so around you that is completely devoid of any rational thought. I imagine this is exactly how McCain felt during his campaign every time Palin began talking to anyone unscripted.
Once seated at our table the mother began verbally expressing that it would be nice if the restaurant had crayons or a kids menu to color or something for her kids to do to keep busy until the food is served. They have brought no snacks for the kids, or anything for them to play with while they waited, and then had the audacity to express that it should be the restaurants responsibility to entertain her children. Talk about deferring you basic parenting responsibilities over to the damn food industry. Personally, I blame Chuck E. Cheese.
My wife was kind enough to get the kids some saltines from a waitress for the kids to eat while we waited for your food. She also got out some pens and paper out of her purse so the kids had something to do. The baby was being held while we waited for food, but once the food arrived, it was placed in a high chair and ignored as we started eating. The baby started to cry at this point.
Everyone around us was starring at our table due to the growing volume of the baby’s cries. The mother just keep talking louder and louder to talk over the crying child. I had had enough. It was re-goddamn-diculous at how consistently awful their parenting had been the entire evening, something needed to be said. So, I opened my mouth and out came, “Can you do something about that?” and pointed at the baby. Everyone at our table stopped talking and just starred at me with half open mouths of half chewed food. I continued, “I mean, can’t you hear that? Why don’t you try holding it or something?”
My wife choked a little on her food, and started squeezing my leg with what I personally thought was excessive force. The mom elbowed her husband who stood up, grabbed the kid and disappeared for the rest of the meal. Was it a bit of an asshole move? Perhaps, but I felt a lot better. Not to mention, it was much quieter, and I think everyone else in the restaurant was grateful as well.
My wife and I now laugh about it, but we never bring it up when we get together with those friends. Was that situation an exception to the rule? I have no idea, but the few times they have brought their kids over to our house… let’s just say not a lot has changed, but I have gotten a little more tactful in how I present things to them.
As for other situations I’ve witnessed, let’s make a list:
-
If you show up to an R rated movie at 9 PM or later… actually make that any movie, I don’t care if it’s rated G! If you show up to a movie theatre with an infant at a late showing of a film, not only are you a horrible parent, but you’re also an asshole. (Ok so maybe this is one of my bigger pet peeves.)
- If you are of the church going disposition and on some holiday weekend, like Easter for example, you decide to jack your kids up on two pounds of chocolate before church and then get angry when they misbehave. It’s your damn fault! And if you ignore them and let them run all over your place of worship during whatever your preacher person is attempting to convey, you are a crappy parent.
- If you go to a funeral, wedding, or any type of ceremony involving reverence and quiet, and you think for a second that your high strung kid(s) will behave and sit quietly anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour without making a sound, so you decide to bring them along expecting things to be just fine, you are a daft parent.
- And if, after you bring your kid(s) to one of these ceremonies and you realize that the kid is not going to sit still and you just let the little monster run around without any supervision, and ignore that they are disrupting the ceremony, you are not only a worthless parent, but you should have your baby producing organs surgically impeded so that the world never has to suffer from another one of your accidental pregnancies.
- And finally, if you take your kid(s) to a restaurant, for the love of The Flying Spaghetti Monster (feel free to replace that with your deity of choice), do not let them wander around alone, walking up to random tables, and staring at strangers. It makes everyone at those tables very uncomfortable and they will hate you and your child. Please, let’s stop all the negative waves! Keep your kid where it belongs, in your supervision at your table!
Damn! I sure get pissy when I talk about this stuff… still, I’ve said it. I feel better. Thanks.
What about you? What lands on your list of bad parenting? Leave a comment and let me know.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 7, 2009 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Observationally Speaking, Utahism
It’s Saturday, well it was when I started writing this. It’s supposed to be my relaxed and groovy day. You know, it’s the type of day that doesn’t require you to put on any pants until at least noon. So, I rolled out of bed around 9:30 with exceptional bed head I might add. And I don’t mean the “I’m ready to go clubbing” bed head, oh no, I’m talking about the traditional “Einstein’s my bitch” style of bed head. If fact, my hair was so unmatched that I was contemplating doing a round of two of physics this morning, simply because it just felt right.
Turns out it was the hair talking, because I don’t do physics, ever… well almost ever. The only exception is when my friend Clayton is over, and happens to be mildly to highly intoxicated. I met him years ago while he was working on his PHD in physics and let’s just say that once that boy gets lit, drinking and deriving is one of his highly endearing qualities.
I keep telling him he should go back to teaching and hold his classes in a local pub, speakeasy, bar, or any place close to campus that serves alcohol, except maybe frat houses. I think he would have the best attended class on campus. Hell, I’d even consider going back to school just to take his class. Although I’m not really sure how well anyone would do during finals. Still, I can’t imagine anyone would complain about having to take the class again.
So, anyway, back to my Saturday morning. I had just finished cooking up an omelet and was heading downstairs to enjoy a little MST’d Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, because it is that time of year. As I was humming the “Let’s have a Patrick Swayze Christmas” song to myself, and my cutie-baby-sweetie-pie’s phone rings. After the call she tells me that some people are coming over to get a little marketing assistance from her and there is a good change that they are going to bring their kids. Oh and they were going to be there in about twenty minutes.
The first thing I though was “sonofabitch” because this meant I was going to have to put on some pants. My second thought was. “Oh god, kids!” Look its not that I hate kids, some are very tasty with a side of hollandaise sauce. Its just that I, well, based on my experience, there are a lot more horrible children being produced than good children and based on the law of averages, our house was going to be invaded by the result of someone’s demonic seed.
Don’t get me wrong, I am a strong supporter of the equation, horrible children = horrible parents, but I think it is important to point out that being a horrible parent does not mean you are a horrible person. You just really should have used protection, got fixed, or put the little creatures up for adoption.
Also, I’m not referring to all parents here. My parents, for two, kicked ass. I have friends who have done a remarkable job raising their kids. They are well behaved, polite, know how to actually say please and thank you without being told to do so, and in my opinion deserve everything they asked Santa to give them this holiday.
What I am referring to are the parents that have predominantly checked out when it comes to their children, or the ones that adhere to the “reprimand with love” form of child rearing. They are easy to spot too, go to any Wal-Mart and you’ll see them everywhere. I’m not sure why but Wal-Mart wildlife reserve for awful children and their parents. The child (or children) is easy to spot, it’s crying loudly while their parent(s) just walks along completely detached and ignoring the fountain of tears, snot, screams, and spit.
Now sure, some people might say that because I don’t have any children, I have no right telling others how to raise theirs. My response to this is a resounding, “RUBBISH!” Hell, states have entire taskforces designed to tell parents how to raise their kids. Based on that fact alone I feel more than qualified giving my opinions on the topic. Not to mention, having been a child at some point in my life, I feel perfectly justified talking about the raising of them.
First and foremost, stop rewarding your kids for bad behavior. I see it all time. Some whiney little kid asks for a new toy. They are told no, so they start crying, and crying, and screaming and the parent either gets embarrassed, or simply gives up and rewards the tantrum with exactly what the child wanted. Well done. You just confirmed to your child that bad behavior is the best way for them to get what they want. Congratulations, you are well on your way to raising a little bastard.
Also, if your kid is misbehaving, slap it on the butt. It lets the kid know that their behavior is unacceptable. Think about it, if you cater to the “reprimand with love” mentality you are training your child to act horribly when they want you to hug and kiss them and show them positive affection. This is a horrible parenting philosophy.
I’m not saying you should beat your child. There is a huge difference between a smack on the butt and punching a kid in the face for behaving badly. That is the type of behavior that gets that taskforce called on you that I mentioned earlier, and deservedly so.
The concept is easy… reinforce positive behavior with positive interaction, and negative behavior with negative interaction. Here, I’ll even give you the formula:
- Good behavior + hug and kisses from you = a well behaved kid
- Bad behavior + you spanking the kid = a well behaved kid… eventually
It is that simple? I think so… mostly anyway. Dr. Spock might disagree, but what does he know. Being one that has never read his book, I’m pretty sure he made most of it up.
I was going to go through a number of examples of crappy parenting I’ve personally witnessed, but this post is already at risk of turning epic, so I’ll throw those examples in tomorrows post and call it part two.
So until then, to all you good parents, thank you. I really do notice and truly appreciate it. And to all you crap parents, knock it off! You know who you are.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 4, 2009 | I Think There's a Point, Observationally Speaking
It time again for a great American past time, although it might be a past time in other places as well, sadly I have not spend the holidays in another country… yet. The past time is of course the frenzy of holiday home decorating. This tradition usually begins the day after Thanksgiving, unless you are a department store… then you usually start holiday decorating the week before Halloween.
But when it comes to decorating the house, Black Friday is usually the day. Maybe that is why all those crazy ass sales happen so early in the morning. That way people can get their shopping done early, then go home and take a nap before putting up the tree up in the house and putting lights up the outside the house. It’s a good theory anyway.
This may come as a bit of a shocker, but I am not of the decorating disposition. Some may say this is because I’m a man. Others might suggest that it’s because I have no children. Then there are a few that might hint that I am a nihilist, which if that were the case, would mean that I’d be too exhausted to put up lights in the first place. And then there is this one guy that would probably tell you I am a bit of a humbug and wouldn’t know quality jewelry even if it fell off a truck and was sold to me at a discounted price, which is probably true, the quality bit not the humbug bit.
In my defense, that guy is a jerk and you shouldn’t believe a word he says. He is always trying to sell me cheap imitation jewelry on a street corner downtown. Every time I tell him no and question the quality of his product, he makes snide exclamations about my character and suggests to anyone else standing around that my parents were never married… which they were… eventually… ok fine, they’ve always been married.
Truth is I just don’t care… ok so maybe the nihilist thing is a little accurate. But the main thing is that out of all of the activities that I could do around the holiday season, or any season for that matter, putting up a bunch of lights on the outside of my house, when I don’t even have a ladder, is one that doesn’t even make it on my list of things to do. And yes, even if I had a ladder I’d choose to do something else anyway.
I mean sure, putting up decorations in the house does add some warmth and festiveness to ones home, unless it’s Halloween, then it just adds a spooky “bugger off” feel. I mean I do have fond childhood memories of the scent of evergreens filling my house after we put up a real tree. And I do like the idea of have living vegetation in the home, even if I’m not very consistent with watering them.
Also, if you have a cat, putting up a tree is always worthwhile, mainly because of the “ahh” sounds you’ll make when you find it asleep under the tree nestled in with the presents, and maybe sometimes resting on the lower branches. But, ultimately I’m talking about the hours of entertainment you’ll get from watching the little fur ball attack the hanging ornaments and watching your mom trying to attack the cat while it attacks the tree.
I do appreciate it when others take the time to put up something worthwhile to share with their neighbors. Some neighbors make the lighting of the house a staple for community holiday spirit, where people from all over town will go for the sole purpose of driving around that neighborhood to look at all the lights.
I’ll admit though, that one of the first things I think of when I see a ridiculous amount of lights up is what a waste of energy. I want to tell the owners to skip putting up any lights at all and use the money they’d save to feed the homeless or something like that. But… after years of griping about them I think I am starting to get it. Holiday lights on houses are not about wasting energy, or increasing ones carbon foot print. I think it’s about the feelings they inspire.
Yes there are people, like me, that may grumble about them. Then there are people that will be downright angry and militant about them, but most people are going to receive joy from them. When we look at something the makes us happy, it warms us up from the inside. The huge tree placed in Times Square brings joy to millions of people every year when it lights up, and honestly, I really don’t see that as a waste.
Besides, regardless of your feeling about holiday lights, every once in a while you’ll find yourself a witness to a home, scattered with a collection of holiday lights that is going to make you smile. My pumpkin picture friend sent me this picture the other day and I feel it captures exactly what I’m talking about… the caption read:
“Once again, I was disqualified from my neighborhoods “Best Decorated House” contest due to my bad attitude!”
Try as I might, it is impossible for me to look at this and not feel anything but happiness.
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by Richard Timothy | Nov 25, 2009 | It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” It’s our unifying cry every time anyone attempts, well anything that does not go according to plan. I’ve personally lost track of how many times I’ve said it myself. It’s such a common human experience that I can’t imagine anyone has ever attempted to count their personal use of that phrase.
My most recent encounter with this phrase happened this past weekend. I was having a chili and Eddie evening with some friends. The evenings have been growing more and more chilled as of late. So I planned a little eve with some dear friends that included me cooking my homemade chili, which could technically be defined as more of an Italian bean stew. Regardless, it was perfect. A hardy and filling soup that warmed you up on a cold pre-winter night.
Along with the meal we enjoyed some wine, which only added to our inner warmth. Some friends did bring beer though; unsure if wine and chili made the type of flirtatious combination they were willing to try. The evening also consisted of all of us gathering together in front of the television to watch my Eddie Izzard’s Dressed to Kill stand-up DVD. Over half the people there had not seen it before, which is why it was the mandatory viewing for the evening.
And to those of you who have not seen this, go out right now and rent it, buy it, put it on the top of your Netflix queue, what ever you have to do, do it! Because it is one of the funniest and most brilliant comedy routines I have ever seen… unless, of course, you have a deep rooted abrasion to the f word, then sadly, you should probably skip it.
Right, so you might be wondering were “the phrase” comes into play. Well, up to that point, is was a night of fabulous food and wine, and two hours of giggling, chuckling, and open-mouth-whole-body-shaking laughter. Hell, we even had a few snorts, which personally just made me laugh more. It wasn’t until after Eddie that our evening experienced the “good idea.”
When it was brought up, it was just too Steinbeckian to believe. And I knew! Right after they said it I knew it was a bad idea. I even relayed Doc’s experience in Cannery Row in an attempt to express that others thought it was a bad idea too. But sometimes, sometimes there are things that truly do seem like a good idea at the time, regardless what others might tell you. My friends were determined, and so began the beer float portion of our evening.
Here’s what was used:
- 1 bottle of Guinness
- 1 tablespoon of Hershey Chocolate Syrup
- 2 scoops of chocolate ice cream
I did admire their uninhibited jump into the unknown of flavorful possibilities. I also appreciated their determination to ignore my warnings and try it anyway. Everyone that tried it responded with that involuntary facial distortion, which is natures way of telling you something is too sour, too strong (like a shot of high octane liquor), or just plain bad. It was like watching a group of little kids tasting lemons for the first time.
It was after one friend’s second attempt at tasting the beer float that I heard them whisper, “Well, it did seem like a good idea at the time.” It was that last attempt to remain optimistic while at the same time admitting defeat.
After everyone agreed that they couldn’t stomach another taste, I threw the leftovers into a blender, added some more ice cream, a shot of Bailey’s, and a shot of some type of coffee flavored liquor and made everyone a beer milkshake, cause, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Everyone did give it a try though. I even tried it and you all know how I feel about coffee flavors.
I didn’t like it, but to my surprise everyone drank almost all of their beer shake. Even the ones who had tried the beer float said it wasn’t that bad. I’m not sure that counts though. That’s like taking a bite out of a tomato injected with rubbing alcohol and then following it up with a shot of Tabasco sauce and a vodka chaser and saying, “That’s really not that bad.” I mean, sure it’s nice that you are being complementary, but let’s face it, after trying something that assaults every taste bud you have, anything you taste after that is going to be a vast improvement. Hell, you’d probably say a Pop Tart dipped in mustard “…isn’t that bad” after trying something like a beer float… or rubbing alcohol tomato.
It’s been four days now since the beer float, and everyone’s palate has rebooted from the experience, every time I mention “beer float”, my friends experience an uncontrollable shiver and make that “eahhh” sound, while shaking their head from side to side.
That’s life for you though, some times trying something new, like Eddie for example, is going to leave you laughing the rest of your life. I always get a smirk on my face whenever I think of “Cake or Death?” Then there’s, well, beer floats and to that let’s just say, “lesson learned” even if it did seem like a good idea at the time.
MST is one of those symbols of permeating happiness for me. I can watch episodes by myself or with friends and quote along in giggly goodness, or I can have an episode playing in the background, like right now, while I work on my writing, or even while playing the occasional game.
The hero of the movie, Slab Bulkhead, no wait, it was Fridge Largemeat, no, no, I think it was Punt Speedchunk… bah, I have no idea. Oh wait, that’s right it’s David Ryder. He’s a big beefy guy who screams like a little girl constantly throughout the film. Personally I think this makes him an anti-hero, but considering the lack of hero options, you’re pretty much stuck with him. This brings me to my favorite part of this film… Mike and the bots endless barrage of nicknames they give to our hero throughout the film. Here are a few of my favorites:
