Category: No Politics Friday

I have the opportunity to interview at Regent University. If that name is not ringing a bell, go ahead and click the link.

Yeah.

Part of me wants nothing to do with these retards, and the rest of me thinks I need to do this – wearing a wire or hidden camera, of course.

I could ask fun questions like "Will your employment benefits cover my life partner?" and let them know that converting to Sunni Islam has really improved my ability to connect with students.

All I need is a way to work dinosaurs into the conversation.

Frankly I don't see what could go wrong.

Back during the heady days of the Ginaissance, I used ginandtacos to share with the world a recipe for sizzurp – the gin and prescription cough syrup-based cocktail underlying such modern musical masterpieces as Three 6 Mafia's "Sippin on Some Sizzurp." So it is with sadness and a sense of social responsibility that I must note the passing of Pimp C, one of the performers on that track. To exactly no one's surprise, the coroner notes that he died from promethazine/codeine overdose. The man OD'd on cough syrup. Think about that for a second. How much goddamn cough syrup do you have to drink to end up dead?
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While I can't answer that question it's only fair to note that partaking of the sizzurp is not all fun and games. Apparently it's possible to ride the Tussin Train straight into the afterlife. Dying from Robotripping….talk about disillusionment. I don't even recognize this world anymore.

So here it is – the all-new ginandtacos. It was created by the Courtney, and she did it for free. She is amazing. Her theory, posited several months ago, was that one of the things holding back g&t was its lousy mechanics. The search and archives sucked, updating the layout was cumbersome, and it generally looked dated. I think many of those problems have been solved.

First of all, I encourage everyone, be you new visitors or long-time readers, to use the comment function to let me know what suggestions you have. Is everything easy to read? Laid out logically? Are there bugs? "Design" is not exactly my specialty so please point out anything that isn't where it should be.

Second, I'd like to add to the Blogroll. Post a link to your site in the comments and I'll probably add you. Strong preference is given to the reliable regular commenters and friends of g&t, of course.

Lastly, good god almighty does MoveableType suck dong compared to WordPress. I'm not sure I can mathematically express how many times more straightforward and user-friendly this is.

So that's that. I'm pretty goddamn excited about it, but obviously there's always room for improvement. Let me know, and enjoy.

Welcome, No Politics Friday ™.
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We need you.

My roommate and I have a running joke at the moment. Whenever we see a TV commercial for a new (obviously half-baked) reality show, we pause and say, "Goddamn you, writers' strike." TV was already loaded to the gunwales with horrendous cheaper-than-original-scripted-programming reality shows.

But even my jaded ass was horrified to see that the cupboard of ideas is so unbelievably bare that NBC brought back American Gladiators. American Fucking Gladiators. Again.

I make one basic assumption about media – if something (music, movie, TV, whatever) struck me as abysmal and puerile when I was 9 years old, it is very, very unlikely that it will strike me as less so as an adult.
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This is not an exception. But I'm sure this will be as popular as the original. Which makes me wonder – what's wrong with me? What's wrong with any of us? I have a hard time believing I am of the same species as people who like this – and most of America seems to do so.

I must reeeeally be out of touch. How anyone can watch these HGH-sweating mongoloid retards hitting each other with plastic sticks – and like it – is simply beyond me. Half a minute of it is enough to put me down on my knees, praying to an assortment of deities that a comet will strike the Earth and wipe out humanity. We have clearly failed and need to hit the reset button.

See? My reaction is atypical. I'm a bad American.

I'd like to identify the exact point of divergence at which I parted ways with my WWF/American Gladiators-loving countrymen. In my more cynical moments (i.e., when I am awake) I wonder if that moment was when I learned how to read.

Goddamn you, writers' strike.

Two NPF questions for the gentle readers.

1. So, hypothetically, if I were to print up some ginandtacos swag (maybe t-shirts?
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coffee mugs?) would anyone be interested or would I just have a big box of them in my garage until I die?

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Would you be more likely to want something relatively plain or something with a crude, utterly side-splitting joke on it?

2. A strange thing be goin' on these days…ginandtacos' views are way up but the comments aren't. If I'm being boring or talking about un-comment-worthy topics, I would certainly hope that someone would tell me.

Honesty is the best policy.

Huzzah!

So on the heels of the Led Zeppelin reunion show last week – a spectacle so mercenary and horrific that it doesn't merit comment – all I can think about is this:

I vividly recall seeing this live on SNL as it happened, praying fervently for a rogue asteroid the size of Mount Everest to strike the Earth.

So who is the actor/actress everyone else seems to like but whom you loathe?

There is a gentleman in town whom I hate (shocking, I know) and I decided I hated him when, 20 seconds into our first conversation, he started lecturing me about the immense acting talents of Johnny Depp. I really missed the meeting at which America decided that he is not horrible.

Given that he hasn't been in a good film in almost 15 years (Ed Wood, 1994) you'd think the public would have soured on him. Nope.

Is it just me or does he only appear in movies that double as Hot Topic marketing wet dreams?

Honest to god, every damn movie involves mountains of pancake makeup, dark eyeliner, a ridiculous accent, and some sort of period or "dark" aesthetic. Here, take a look. From Hell. Sleepy Hollow. Chocolat. Finding Neverland. Corpse Bride. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And how can we forget that amazing Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy – doubtlessly the finest films ever made about a theme park ride.

Remember when he received an Oscar nomination for that role? And Finding Neverland? Yeah, good times. Mall goths everywhere crossed their black-nail-polished fingers for him.

I understand why people like empty, insipid entertainment.

I just can't handle it when we start putting bows on turds and talking about how great the films and actors are. If you want to waste your time watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3, fine. If you think I'm going to sit here and listen to you talk about how great it and its leading man are, I cannot strongly enough disabuse you of that notion.

So, really. Fuck that guy. Who's yours?

I've spent the last several hours grading final exams. My brain is pudding.

While I was on the topic of very loud, very public bouts of hand-wringing, the reaction to the long-awaited "Mitchell Report" about steroids in baseball is slaying me.
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In the midst of hours of debate over important questions like "Is Roger Clemens still a Hall of Famer??" the whole world is conveniently missing more pressing points, namely the fact that that entire industry is getting a pass on a decade-plus of Federal drug law violations.

Mailing Schedule 1 drugs across state lines….hmm, lots of people in prison for that. Possession with intent to distribute (numerous stories of players giving other players illegal drugs)….
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hmm, I think there are a lot of people in prison for that too. I like baseball. But I'd really appreciate it if just one of these pricks could put the situation in the proper context and admit how f'n lucky they are to be discussing things as trivial as baseball records and honors instead of "So how much time is Clemens going to spend in Federal Pound-Me-in-the-Ass Prison?"

It reminds me vaguely of the old Catholic Church pedophilia scandal, when the organization apparently thought "Don't worry, we'll handle the investigation in-house" was good enough for Federal prosecutors. These multimillionaire athletes are so goddamn lucky to begin with, and here the entire sport has been given a blanket pass on the kinds of things poor people go to prison for every day. They can't even take the free pass gracefully – with an apology and humble pie. No, they have the balls to get indignant, continue issuing denials, and demand all the honors they believe they are due.
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You'd think that the privilege of being able to conduct their own toothless investigation of two decades of felony drug crimes would produce a collective "We really dodged a bullet" sigh of relief. You'd be wrong.

So before I launch into the topic promised by the title, please watch this until the 45 second mark. You do not need to enjoy American football in the slightest in order to find it hilarious. I promise.

Anyway, this was a horrible year for music. In order to fill out a list of top albums of the year I needed to include a couple of things I've only had for about a week. Maybe nothing new sounds good because I am getting old, or maybe nothing new sounds good because it is bad. But regardless, don't interpret that as damnation via faint praise. Some of this shit is pretty amazing. And if you're looking for one Best of 2007 list without fuckin' Radiohead or Modest Mouse on it, you're home, brother.

Today's No Politics Friday ™ is about baseball and Project Runway.

First of all, Project Runway Season 4 is on notice.
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I mean, honestly, did you see that shit? Several months ago I saw a website with headshots and short bios of all the new contestants, and I had only one thought: Oh shit. Rather than do what made the show so good – pick likeable people (save one or two designated assholes) with a lot of talent – they've obviously put together an MTV Real World cast of "quirky" people with stupid tattoos. It's like they went down a goddamn checklist.
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Straight guy who looks like Jeffrey? Check. Jay-like fat gay dude? Check. Completely stoned-out idiot a la Bradley?
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Check. Utterly talentless woman in her 40s? Check. UltraMegaSuper Gay guy along the lines of Austin Scarlett? Check.

Even worse, from everything I've read this season descends into Top Chef-style judging; i.e., the producers tell the judges who to pick based on which catty bitch wars they think are amusing. That rewards talentless little cunts like Marcel (who stuck around Top Chef to the bitter end because they thought we wanted to see him argue with everyone) and this fucking guy Christian. The second he opened his goddamn mouth I wanted him and his stupid f'n Hot Topic haircut to die. I will not be satisfied until he does. And what is the deal with the retarded nicknames? "Kat Pistol"? "Sweet P"? I feel like I'm at f'n roller derby or some stupid crap like that. Shame on you, Bravo. Stop recruiting talent from the list of rejected extras from Miami Ink.

Second, the Barry Bonds news had me on the floor last night. Yes, I am a huge baseball fan. No, I don't particularly give a crap if he rots in hell and/or Federal Pound-Me-in-the-Ass Prison. What slays me is that Bonds was indicted and 90 minutes later his personal trainer Greg Anderson walked out of prison. You've gotta hand it to the Feds, they know how to play mind games. Read it loud and clear, Barry: We're indicting you…because your last friend in the world just flipped on you. Anderson was so willing to stay quiet until he had a couple months to chat with Mr. Prison. Prison'll do that, I guess.

There you go. Baseball and Project Runway.