BRAAAAAAINS...

Charlie Sheen has experienced a sort of spiritual epiphany as of late.  He is the topic of conversation everywhere you turn.  Overnight, seemingly by some sort of warlock magic, he became the undisputed champion of Twitter and Ustream.

Charlie Sheen is a modern zen master.  Charlie Sheen is a stealth fighter with switchblade eyeballs and grizzly bear jaws for testicles.  He runs on pure Tiger Blood, Jet Fuel, and Charlie Sheen.

He is Charlie Sheen.

I’ve collected a few of Charlie Sheen’s zen koan.  I follow each with my own questions and observations.

“I’m different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying’s for fools, dying’s for amateurs.”

If it is actual Tiger Blood that makes Charlie Sheen the awesome warlock that he is, why are actual tigers relatively lame?  Are they genetically immune to the effects?

What if you die really awesomely, like… with a machete or something?  Does that still make you an amateur?

“I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available. If you try it once, you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”

Isn’t he worried about recursively overdosing on himself?  Does the Tiger’s Blood protect him from the effects of his own nested awesomeness?

Only a ninja can kill a ninja… but not even Charlie Sheen can kill Charlie Sheen.  That’s how powerful he is.  Injecting Charlie Sheen into your veins is the drug equivalent of looking directly into the Ark of the Covenant.

“It’s perfect. It’s awesome. Every day is just filled with just wins. All we do is put wins in the record books. We win so radically in our underwear before our first cup of coffee, it’s scary.”

If he’s so busy winning (which… duh… he obviously is…), how does he have time to actually put the wins in the record books?  Did he hire someone to do the monkey work for him?  Maybe he’s he a time lord.

“These are the women that I love that have completed the three parts of my heart.”

Charlie Sheen’s heart only has 3 chambers.  He didn’t need the extra chamber, so he ripped it out with his mind.

“I mean, what’s not to love? Especially when you see how I party man, it’s epic. The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards, all of them, just look like droopy-eyed, armless children.”

Armless children are made of pure win as it is, but Charlie Sheen is better.  That’s how hard Charlie Sheen wins.

“I have a 10,000-year-old brain and the boogers of a 7-year-old. That’s how I describe myself.”

Is this an actual collection or just a metaphor?  Either way… win.

“I will not believe that if I do something then I have to follow a certain path because it was written for normal people. People who aren’t special. People who don’t have Tiger Blood and Adonis DNA.”

I’m guessing the Adonis DNA somehow chemically interacts with the Tiger Blood and recursive Charlie Sheen drug to eternally fuel his warlock powers.  This would definitely explain his invincibility.

“Duh, winning!”

Duh indeed.

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The names have been released, so let’s take a look at who we have to look forward to seeing this year:

Pamela Anderson
“Actress”
Age: 42

One word:  “ew.”  Seriously?  Pamela Anderson?  Am I the only man in this country who isn’t turned on by plastic and peroxide?  Even if she were ever “hot,” that had to be at least 30 years ago. This is why the terrorists really hate us, folks.

Erin Andrews
ESPN Reporter Babe
Age:  18 (butt) / 31 (everything else)

I don’t watch sports.  At all.  So I have no idea who Ms. Andrews is.  That said, she has my attention.  I tried finding a picture of her face on the internet, but it seems that the only photos out there are of her butt.

Shannen Doherty
Actress
Age: 38

Oh, come on… you’re only doing this because Jennie Garth did it first.  In all seriousness, I hope she blows a gasket and picks a fight with Niecy Nash.  I wouldn’t pay to see it, but I’d be willing to TiVo it and skip over the commercials to watch it.

Niecy Nash
Actress
Age: 40

Go on with your bad self.

Nicole Scherzinger
“Singer”
Age: 31

I have no idea which one she is, but I’m sure she’s probably one of them.  Even if she’s the ugly one, I’ll probably still watch.

Kate Gosselin
Reality TV personality / Baby Factory
Age: 34

Don’t they make a cute couple?  I’m really pulling for them.  I bet their babies would be cute.

There are apparently a bunch of guys on the list, too, but… [yawn]

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Hey, man... you gonna bogart that whole thing?

Oh, Elders, fleet and strong and wise, appear before my seeking eyes!  Why have you ruined my childhood?

On a whim of misplaced nostalgia, I decided to watch the old “Shazam!” TV show from the 1970s.  When I watched it as a kid 30-some years ago, it was cool as hell.

Holy Moley, What The Frack happened?  The show sure sucks a lot more than I remembered it sucking in the 70s!   It’s predictable, formulaic, preachy, cheesy, obvious, and just plain awful.  No wonder humanity is screwed.  My generation was brought up on this crap!

I used to think that this show was the best.  Billy Batson was just a normal punky little pipsqueak (as was I)… wearing the same clothes every day, living out of an RV with a creepy old guy, and talking to cartoons (as did I).  But all he had to do was yell “Shazam!” and he turned into a superhero… tall and muscled, with chiseled good looks and great 70s hair, able to fly, and old enough to buy beer without being carded (which would explain Captain Marvel’s slurred speech).

Remember back in the 70s when TV music was just TV music?  Well, now you can’t hear it without imagining some half-clothed pizza delivery guy showing up at a lady’s house asking, “Did someone order a pizza?”  Juxtapose that with the image of an underage boy traveling the country in an RV with an old guy, and things start feeling sticky.  And what’s with calling the old guy “Mentor?”  I can’t imagine anything that could possibly creep me out more.  “Hey there, musssssscley armssss…”

Batman had a kickass car.  Wonder Woman had an invisible plane.  Captain Marvel had a shitty, beat-up RV with a “Shazam” sticker pasted on the front.  What a ripoff.

The best part of every episode was the smug post-rescue lecture.  Didn’t pretty much every 70s Saturday morning kids show end with getting chewed out by some superhero, cartoon Army guy, or anthropomorphized vehicle?  “Hey kids… Speed Buggy says ‘Don’t be a Douchebag!’”  Oh, and all the meddling.  Ah, the joys of meddling in the affairs of others.  Have you noticed that there hasn’t been much “meddling” going on since the 70s?  What’s up with that?

Finally, let’s address the so-called “Elders.”  Hercules, Atlas, Zeus, Achilles, and Solomon.  Wait… SOLOMON?  Greek Gods (albeit, Hercules’ name in Greek is actually Heracles), a sorta-demi-god warrior, and a former King of Israel?  I don’t get it.  Weren’t any of the Greek gods super-smart?  And while I’m at it… if the “Elders” were really all that badass, why did they have to call Billy on that crappy Rubik’s Cute/LiteBrite thingy?

Oh, mighty Isis… nothing makes sense anymore.

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Also, I hate that there are no more new “Battlestar Galactica” episodes. I realize this isn’t your fault, but still… just sayin’. “Caprica” is nice and all, but it’s no BSG. Anyway, I digress. On to my point.

Please stop making horrible movies.

“Alice” was so bad as to be offensive, despite your best efforts to pander to the secret Tim Curry geek that lives somewhere deep, deep inside of me. The writing was insipid. The acting was irrelevant. Not that it really matters, but the so-called “judo” was just insulting. At least Alice managed to toss in a “Captain Kirk throw” for good measure, eh?

Max Headroom? Colm Meaney? My, how the mighty have fallen. Why have you forsaken me??? Was Steven Seagal not making any new Direct-to-USA-Network movies this week? At least Caterina Scorsone was nice to look at.

Oh, BTW… what was the deal with the real cat with the CGI Cheshire grin? Creeped me right the hell out. Stop that.

Please consider leaving perfectly good stories alone. What was wrong with the original “Alice in Wonderland” story line? What’s next? “Robo-Dumpty?” How ’bout “Snow White and the Seven Deadly Gargoyles?” Oh, wait… I got it: “Winnie the Pooh: SPIDERS!!!”

I can just imagine tomorrow’s big pitch meeting: “Hey, I have an idea for a holiday movie that the kids will love! It’s just like Good King Wenceslas, only this time, Wenceslas is a half-man/half-giraffe member of a secret clan of ninja assassins, and he’s totally gonna hook up with Megan Fox and… and… [brain aneurysm].”

Aren’t you about overdue to make “Mansquito 2: Electric Boogaloo?”

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Ken Ober, former host of the 80′s MTV game show “Remote Control” (aka bye-bye music videos), was found dead in his home.  No cause of death has been released.

“Remote Control” was responsible for spawning the careers of such celebrities as Adam Sandler, Kari Wuhrer, and Colin Quinn.  So… yeah.  Thanks for that.

Ober… and out.

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Because he’s a Cylon.  And here is the photographic evidence to prove it:

Take that, Ron Moore, you half-assed, half-season crap-bastard.  Your secret is out.

Michael Jackson is the Final Cyclon.

Jackson Five.  Final Five.  Coincidence?  I think not.

What do you think Mr. Jackson meant when he sang the following in “She’s Out Of My Life?”

She’s Out Of My Life
And I Don’t Know Whether To Laugh Or Cry
I Don’t Know Whether To Live Or Die

• The “she” he’s referring to is obviously Caprica 6. He was so forlorn over her leaving him for Gaius Baltar that he went all pedophile-C3PO on us.
• He can’t laugh because Cyclons are serious and don’t joke around.
• He doesn’t know “whether to live or die” because now, with the Resurrection Hub destroyed, this death would be final, causing him to feel, for the first time, the internal existential struggle with life and death that we all face as mortals. Maybe in death… they become us?  Creepy!

Don’t you see it people?  It’s so obvious!  All that was needed was for the lyrics of Elton John and Michael Jackson to come together and make sweet love in the Eye of Jupiter to form a hybrid half-gay / half-pedophile toaster baby… now it all makes sense.

And now I know.

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Jimmy… I think there are some donuts in the other room.  Scamper.  Sarah… I’m addressing this directly to you.  Slide on over and let me drop some sexy on you…

You’re beautiful, sexy, smart, funny, sarcastic, and Jew-y.   What more could a guy want?  Why not try a regular guy for a change?  I know you’re hurting.  I know you like fat guys.  Plus, I look great in a kilt.  Go ahead… give me a call.  What could it hurt?

XOXOXO
Michael

source – [http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/2008/07/sarah-silverman.html]

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I’m sure everyone was horrified by the shame that “Master P” (aka Percy Miller) brought to the floor. And how can anyone forget Sabrina Bryan’s premature ejection from last year’s competition? But this is worse. Much worse. My horror can be expressed in just two words:

“Def Leppard.”

First off… is it just me, or were they lipsynching? I’ve seen Def Leppard live recently (yeah… shut up), and they didn’t sound anything like that. I bet if I did a “Dark Side of the Moon / Wizard of Oz” thing with last night’s show and the original “Hysteria” CD, I’d go back in time.

Rick Allen looked completely disinterested and detached. His drumming made Charlie Watts look like a cross between Buddy Rich and Andreas Katsulas having a jog with Harrison Ford. Joe Elliott looked like Ann Wilson in a Bruce Vilanch wig. And Viv Campbell…? You should’ve stayed with Dio, my friend. I guess you can always follow in Reb Beach’s footsteps and join the “Don Dokken Experience.”

The worst rape of unsuspecting air molecules uttered in last night’s episode? “Give it up, once again… for Def Leppard!”

Never again will I be able to look ballroom dance in the face without secretly resenting her. No… I will not respect you in the morning.

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