Filed under: Humor
I’d like to thank the team at dogsthroughafisheyelens.com* for choosing my very own headline submission for their contest!
Here’s a screenshot of my winning submission…
Thank you so much, I never win anything!
*I actually won the Overheard in New York headline contest, shout out!
Filed under: Humor
Before I begin, I know, the following is somewhat old news now, but I’ve been kinda caught up lately what with my job, band, 2 other blogs, alcoholism, obsession with Call of Duty 4, alcoholism, porn and alcoholism, so forgive my tardiness…
If you didn’t catch the news a couple of weeks ago, the late Steve ‘Crocodile Hunter’ Irwin’s daughter, Bindi Irwin, has a creepy and hence, very life-like doll being made in her image.
The picture on the right is also quite scary.
Which leads me to my point…
Many and varied celebrities have had dolls made in their likeness.
Action-figures are obviously a whole different story, as they’re a means of movie studios to capitalize even further on the strength of a successful movie franchise, snatching the last dollars and cents out of our collective pockets before slipping questionable pills in our Bacardi Breezers, waiting til we pass out, then ripping our flimsy high-school formal dresses off and- NO BILLY I TOLD YOU TO WAIT TIL AFTER THE WINTER PUMPKIN DANCE!!!
*ahem* Sorry, just had a flashback… where was I?
Celebrities having dolls made in their own likeness, not in the likeness of a chracter they’ve played, seems oh so wrong to me. It also doesn’t help that most of the dolls they have made are just plain crap.
In the celebrity world, there are many different ways you can earn a quick buck.
Some of these methods (working, for instance) are respectable, and I have nothing against an entertainer who is actually entertaining earning shitloads. Hell, I wish I could break that market.
But there are also many other avenues famous people take, where they effectively use their status to edge their way into a situation they have no right exploiting… ever.
Take a look at my patented Certified List of Celebrity Sell-Outingness© closely…
Desperate grabs at money by celebrities
(From almost-respectable, to not the least bit dignified)
-Producing a movie
-Signing a film contract (If singer)
-Getting a record deal (If actor)
-Writing a tell-all autobiography
-Marrying decrepit old billionaire
-Promoting a product
-Selling your own autogrpahs on eBay
-Standing on a street-corner, farting the national anthem, while letting strangers throw spare change into your open mouth
-Having an awful doll made in your likeness to capitalize on your questionable “star status”
-Fucking Tommy Lee and selling the story
As the list plainly states, stopping short of fucking Tommy Lee and selling the story hoping someone will find it interesting, having a doll made in your likeness is the most pathetic money-spinner you can even hope to consider.
Expecting people to purchase a plaything based on your real-life looks and persona is about as conceited as you can get. It makes me wonder what kinds of mind-blowing special features a doll with my personal traits could hope to offer…
I sell myself short… my fingers don’t smell like cheese all the time.
As further proof that the notion of dolls created in the likeness of dull celebs, not to mention the very quality of the things, are flat-out mediocre and wrong, I’ve compiled the following examples…
Well that doll could be Jay-Z, but it could also be Carlton Banks from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I’d probably actually buy a Fresh Prince doll set. But I’m really hanging out for a Jazzy Jeff action-figure!
Name a song Devo sang that wasn’t Whip It.
If you can answer that you deserve every interchangable generic black-haired cranium in this crappy collection.
Umm, these are Captain and Tennille dolls…
I’ve racked my brain for a funny caption, but the joke just seems to be the very notion of a Captain and Tennille doll set.
Attention conspiracy theorists: I’ve found the Roswell alien and it can be ordered from a Doubleday catalogue.
Oprah couldn’t possibly need money this bad, could she? Besides, this looks more like Diana Ross.
No, I’m pretty sure it is in fact a Diana Ross doll.
The Oprah doll just bought the Diana Ross doll’s body and transplanted her head onto it, leaving the Diana Ross head to attatch itself to Oprahs flabby frame and use the profits to buy a bucket of coke.
Ashlee Tisdale doll. I don’t know who Ashlee Tisdale is, but according to the doll, she is America’s number 1 selling artist with Downs Syndrome.
It’s so great to see the special people in society getting a decent footing in the world, and good luck to little Ashlee.
Hang in there, kid!
Filed under: Humor
Hard to believe the time is already upon us again!
That’s right! World Youth Day festivities are in full swing, and the world’s rejoicing!
Ahh… World Youth Day…
Yeh… it… it happens every year…
Never heard of it?
That’s alright, because this year it is being held in Sydney, and as such a visit from the Pope has turned what was an obscenely large collection of drunks, gambling addicts, and dodgy millionaires, all living in the hedonistic [not to mention *gasp* homosexual] capital of the Southern Hemisphere, into a joyful orgy of pious, virtuous, God-fearing pillars of Christianity.
I’m not saying the city of Sydney has gone Pope-mad, but I’m pretty sure I saw the Grand Mufti running naked down the street holding a signed photo of Benedict XVI shouting “I HEART YOU SO GOSH-DARN MUCH JEEBUS! SHOWER ME IN YOUR DIVINE LOVE!”
Ignoring the obviously awful title of this post, there is a layer of mediocrity hanging over the collective heads of Australia’s population. Like a thick Beijing smog, it infiltrates the country’s media… a flotilla of gooey pitifulness, stinking up the place like a Beijing Blue-Green-Alge outbreak [clearly Beijing is disgusting, I’ll leave them alone for now].
Not long ago, Pope Benji arrived at Sydney airport, immediately holding a press conference, naturally enough, in the cabin of the airplane…
…where, to the Pontiff’s surprise, he was challenged to a freestyle rap battle by the head of Australia’s Catholic church, The MC Arch-Bishop Tabernacle.
Pope Benji couldn’t back down now… not after he worked so hard to get to where he is… so he looked deep down inside. “Christ,” he thought, “I wish there was some sort of almighty higher being I could turn to in desperate times!”
Unable to think of anyone… he went with his gut instinct…
Yo… yo… argh… yee… what.. what..
You think yo so great, you might aswell quit
Cos when it comes to bustin’ that Papal shit
Ich get down mit da boys, chillin’ mit ze Cardinals
Drinkin sacremental wine while hearin’ confessionals
You think you’re so great MC Tabernacle
You’re country’s full of sinners, this nation is a rabble
I’m gonna set you straight here’s the 4-1-1
I’m gonna cap your ass with the Lord’s one and only son!
CROWD: “WHOOOOOOAAAA!!!! DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT?!?!?! YOU GOT SERVED MU’FUKKAAA!!”
Yeeee… what.. what… how you like it now?
*Drops mic, walks off plane*
In all seriousness, this whole World Youth Day thing is getting a touch crazy right now, some might even say scenes of anarchy are breaking out…
“Oh God… get back! Get back! Ladies! We don’t want this to get ugly now do we?
Hey.. HEY! I already told you Myrtle… just keep the shortbread biscuits in the tin, and you will see the Pope… you’re adults for God’s- I er mean Gosh’s sake.”
Though not everyone is taking the same approach… these people decided to express their admiration for the Pontiff by erecting a sign facing away from the airport, so the Pope could not possibly even hope to see it.
Yep, life’s good for the leader of the Catholic church. If I didn’t enjoy drinking, swearing, being lazy, earning money, having sex, watching porn, wearing normal clothes and picking on people weaker than myself, I wouldn’t mind being the Pope.
Not least for that hella-comfy looking toilet! ^^^
Filed under: Uncategorized
From Icarus and his wings of wax and feathers to the Wright Brothers Flyer of 1903, the illustrious history of aviation pioneering is choc-full of awful misjudgment, spectacular failures and general arse-over-head mediocrity.
The following is an abridged history of mediocre aviation pioneering…
The Legend of Icarus
Along with the legend of Oedipus, the original motherfucker, the legend of Icarus is one of the most referenced stories from Greek mythology.
According to legend, Icarus had to escape from a prison in Crete, along with his father, Daedalus, who was jailed for lewd conduct in the labyrinth with George Michael.
To escape Crete, Daedalus naturally went with the tried-and-true method of fashioning wings made of wax and feathers for him and son to use as wings.
Apparently the birth of aviation coincided neatly with the birth of idiocy.
Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too close to the sun, but Icarus, distracted by the icy cold breeze blowing through his loincloth, failed to notice his proximity to the Sun [which apparently in ancient Greece hovered somewhere between 100-200 metres from the ground], he flew too close, his wings melted, and Icarus fell quickly to his death [conveniently, in the Icarian sea, near Icaria].
Presumably his father survives and spends the rest of his life explaining to people why he and his son didn’t simply use a boat to escape Crete.
Abbas Ibn Firnas
As well as designing the world’s first parachute in AD852, a 65 year old Firnas in AD875 went on to make the first attempt at flight using a glider.
Before his maiden voyage off the edge of the Mount of the Bride near Córdoba, Spain, Firnas, looking ridiculous in a suit of feathers, stated rather egotistically:
“Presently, I shall take leave of you. By guiding these wings up and down, I should ascend like the birds. If all goes well, after soaring for a time I should be able to return safely to your side.”
After the fall and subsequent debilitating back injury, Firnas resigned himself to the fact that he would never fly, and instead took up more fitting pursuits for a 65 year old man, such as gardening and complaining about things to ambivalent strangers.
Diego Marín Aguilera
Although his flying machine was never going to travel far, Diego Aguilera [by all accounts just as skanky as Christina] and his mechanical glider managed to travel around 360 metres at an altitude of 5 to 6 metres. Aguilera crashed, but was uninjured.
Just a humble farmer with no scientific knowledge, Aguilera studied the movement, weight and dimensions of birds, and spent six years painstakingly building his machine using the vast knowledge he had acquired. Truly remarkable considering the limitations placed on him by society at the time.
So for all his hard work and relative success, what did he receive?
Well, naturally the townsfolk believed him to be a crazy heretic fraud and they burned his creation to the ground, leaving Aguilera, a broken man, alone and penniless, to die 6 years later at the age of 44.
But it’s okay cos they built a monument for him 210 years later next to a shitty decrepit castle in Spain.
Jean-Marie Le Bris
In 1856, Frenchman Jean-Marie Le Bris made the first flight higher than his point of departure.
Although, this feat was only achieved by the craft having wheels the size of small houses.
In 1889, Pichancourt [one name, like Cher] developed the L’Oiseau Mechanique, which, imitating the flapping wings of a bird, was designed to fly majestically through the air.
Horatio Frederick Phillips
Decided the best way to achieve powered flight was to fuck off the whole idea of one or two sets of wings, which was standard practice at the time, and instead worked on machines with up to fifty lift surfaces [or sustainers, as he called them], amounting to a creation that looked more like a giant retarded abicus than any aircraft created before or since.
Phillips’ theories weren’t based on any real research, and his designs weren’t aimed at achieving any realistic possibilities.
No, Phillips just liked to fit pieces of wood together and stick wheels on them.
Funnily enough, Phillips called his creations ‘Flying Machines’.
Odd, since not one of his creations ever left the ground.
And as an epilogue…
I was on a plane once and the flight attendant promised I’d get to go in the cockpit.
I got to my seat, thinking I’d be in the cockpit in no time.
I waited and waited.
And waited some more.
Every time she walked down the aisle I looked her in the eyes, pleading, hoping she’d notice me and totally remember I was meant to go in the cockpit and see all the cool buttons and shit.
We got to our destination in no time, and all of a sudden, the flight attendant was ushering me from my seat to the exit.
And I never got to ride in the freakin cockpit!
I was sad and cried all night, nothing could console me.
In all fairness I was twenty years old at the time… but a promise is a promise, flight attendant.
I hate that bitch.
Up yours, kid.
Filed under: Humor
The Ab King Pro advertisement is to mediocre infomercials what Robert Mugabe is to world leaders.
Yeh, they’re both disgusting brutal monsters, but if we all ignore them long enough maybe they’ll just go away.
All of the production values and fancy graphics in the world can’t cover up the foul stench of fail-poo hanging around this terrible commercial, yet I’m sure this product sells like hotcakes because let’s face it, fat people will try anything to get thin, as long as it doesn’t involve real exercise and they can eat a Snickers bar while they’re doing it.
Besides, the ads promise “Flat, sexy, rock-hard abs”. How can you resist?
If you have not seen the positively shitful advertisement shown world-wide for the Ab King Pro:
1. You must not watch TV… what are you Amish or something? This thing is on around-the-clock.
2. I envy you. So very much.
In case you don’t loathe this product to it’s very core as much as I yet, here is a run down of the ad, with accompanying inner-monologue of fat unemployed loser who can afford to sit around watching telecommercials all day.
All mediocrity that follows is 100% real.
Oh geez, the footage is all in black and white!
Aw man, her face is all scrunched up and morose!
Damn, she dresses like one of those special kids I see on that small bus every morning!
Boy, dieting really does suck. No wonder I can’t lose weight, I feel the same when I diet!
And look at Generic Bald Loser #247.
He can’t use exercise equipment, just like me!
I can so relate to this shit…
I’ve always dreamed of having flat, sexy, rock-hard abs… but how?
Oh my God!!!
That could be me!!!
Please, please show me how to look like that! I want to be rubbed all over by sexy hand-models too!
I’d pay anything!
But lo, what is this wonderful contraption I see before me?
Why, it’s an Ab King Pro, you say???
Wow, the Ab King Pro isn’t like other ab work-out machines. No, the Ab King Pro flexes a full 200 degrees! That’s 20 degrees more than other apparatuses!
That means it’s better by 20 degrees!
What just happened?!?!
That balding, middle-aged obese guy just morphed into a full-headed, young athletic guy!
How… wha… buh…
This product is off the hook!!!
…yet I know it’s dainty enough for recently-widowed granny to use while watching 80s leotard pornography.
Only voor easy slechts of 119,95 Euros?!?!
That’s it, I’m buying this thing. Jowls be-gone!
Filed under: Humor
Is there anything more painfully mediocre than a bad fancy-dress costume?
This costume for the little-known late 70s DC Comics Spiderman knock-off, “Saggy-skinned Sexually-ambiguous Human-Spider” suggests there just may not be.
Not only is this a terrible costume, but this picture actually appears in the online catalogue for a costume retailer… a costume retailer trying to sell costumes to people.
The whole scene says “creepy, skinny pedophile dressed as Spiderman tries to lure children to his secret dungeon” more than just “hey, look, it’s Spiderman”.
In exhibit B, we see a classic example of bad fancy-dress costume… the dancing Elmo of Hollywood Blvd.
Methinks in general it’s not too bad, considering the dude inside probably created the whole get-up by himself, but there’s a certain something about Elmo wearing a T-shirt without pants that creeps me out.
I know when I walk around the house in nothing but a shirt with my own face on it, I get some pretty strange looks from my family [not to mention any friends they have over], so for him to do it in public is just downright distasteful.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Hello, and welcome to Mediocrity Strikes!
Mediocrity is prevalent in every tier of society.
Some people fail to see the mediocrity of their situation through sheer ignorance. For others, mediocrity manifests itself through boredom.
In any case, the basic cause of less-than-average displays of ineptitude can be traced back to one core reason… these people just don’t care.
If you possess a thoroughly sub-standard example of complete and utter second-rate mediocrity, and you’ve been holding onto it just waiting for an excuse to show someone, well this site may just be the answer to your prayers.
Send any examples, plus commentary if necessary, here, so I may post it for all the world to laugh at.