Peanut Butter... and Jerry

Greetnorgz, Science Patrol cadets! I have no specific ideas and yet I still wanna do my weekly blog post, so this one's going to be freestyle, composed right in the box and full of anything that occurs to me to tell you about. Could be fun! Could be excruciatingly boring! Let's find out! Charge forth!

First, saw a great band Friday night, Ex-Supermodel, a.k.a. the Tuffskinz... or, as the venue called 'em, The Ex-Supermodels (or, I suppose, The Tuffskinz-es). It was great hearing covers of classic metal done in my tiny and almost-un-metal town, and was gratifying that the crowd seemed into it (especially the Motorhead!). Three Black Sabbath songs ("Fairies Wear Boots," "N.I.B.", and maybe the mightiest version of "War Pigs" I've ever heard live), a Motorhead song ("Ace of Spades," natch), a Metallica song ("Seek & Destroy," hellyeah!), a Judas Priest song ("Another Thing Comin'") and many other assorted hard-rockin' QueensofthestoneageAC/DCG'n'RKisstype stuffs like that-there. Next time you go also! Double plus good!

Good enough to keep me awake into the small hours (say, there's another somethin' to cover... that song feckin' rawks and is just massive-mighty) even though I'd spent most of the day on the highway goin' to Tupelo buyin' far too many cheap DVDs to still be considered any kind of saneperson. Most of which probably ain't that great, but at $3 or less, so what? It's stuff to review and it looks better than my cable. Wal-Mart was black-Fridaying stuff at $2 each (Young Frankenstein! I Am Legend! Fantastic 4! Last King of Scotland! Shoot 'em Up! Blow! Rock'n'Rolla! Michael Clayton! Blood Diamond! etc.) and then Dirt Cheap had a bunch of stuff for $1.50... most of it was History Channel/ A&E type stuff, but whenever I can find a whole season box set of damn-near-anything for $1.50 I consider that a score (whole seasons of Gene Simmons Family Jewels, AxMen, Tougher in Alaska, and Driving Force, plus a documentary on zombies). Then, BigLots had a shitload o' stuff for $3, lots of it unknown but worth a gamble, especially if you have the high-tolerance for junkshit-type movies that I do (The Watcher! Valentine! a whole season of the Jeff Foxworthy show! Hollow Man! Curse of the Golden Flower! Class of 1984! Cry_Wolf! Slither! Once Upon A Time in China 3! Rollercoaster! Mutiny on the Bounty! The Informer! Poison Ivy: The New Seduction! (which I fully expect to slurp massive trouser-teat, but it's got Jaime Pressly in it and I like me some Jaime Pressly for she is quite pretty and I would kiss her on the kneecap as the police dragged me away) And other such things). I am now like a squirrel with a storehouse of stuff to get me through the winter... but, the winter's about over and I'm too narcoleptic to actually watch anything, so, huh. So much for my plans.

The friend who went to Tupelo with me also brought me a home-burned DVD of an IFC show (my cable doesn't have IFC) which (he's right) is freakin' brilliant. It's called Food Party and it's kinda like an even-more-demented version of Pee Wee's Playhouse, but done in the form of a cooking show by a Vietnamese girl named Thu Tran. Most of the set appears to be made of cardboard and was painted by a schizophrenic on 'shrooms. There are lots of horrible puppets and "animated" segments involving cut-out pictures on sticks. The humor is extremely weird and twisted (such as a scene where Thu gives birth -- what appears to be melted strawberry yogurt falls from between her legs, she pushes, and a huge pie pops out... with a live kitten inside it). At one point Thu has to dive to the bottom of the sea, so she takes off all her clothes and her nudity is depicted by a flesh-colored body stocking with nipples drawn on it and a cat's face over the groin (get it? of course you do). And (referencing the title of this blogpost) she has a friend named "Peanut Butter Jerry." That's amazingly funny in and of itself just for the absurdity, but when you remember that she's Asian and they sometimes have a little trouble with R's and L's it gets even funnier. Peanut Butter Jerry's hair and beard are made of peanut butter. His shirt is also laden with it. I'd hate to be the actor in that costume, it looks extremely unpleasant. When she runs out of apples, she has to call her "dealer" who won't talk about it on the phone, and then she tries to get a special "White Tiger" apple that turns her into a raging hell-beast. Quotes such as "Birds are kind of dumb, look at all these wings I got from them" abound. It's all very strange.

Anyway, here's a few episodes from YouTube, and you can seek out others. I wouldn't watch these if you've recently taken any cough syrup or anything, for your sanity may never recover. And take off your pants before viewing, so you will not make da veevee in them by accident from der glee undt der laffink undt joy-makink mit der silliness and heeheehaha.

THE DEVIL teaches us how to cook eggs!

Funeral for a French Baguette. "Now I am dead! Ce'st la vie!" That's what I want on my tombstone, make a note of it.

Love overdramatically found and lost in the freezer, and why does Thu have so many firearms around the kitchen? Perhaps to guard against Yolk-O Oh No!

The story of rice porridge! (you've always wanted to know where that came from! and now you never will!)

Thu gets a visit from Jay-Z. I hate when that happens...

"I'm a benevolent giant magic egg!"

Anyway, I just finished reading For Whom The Bell Tolls and can assure you that Metallica's song serves as pretty good Cliff Notes (Cliff Burton, that is, ha ha ha, wheee, I just made that up!) so you don't have to read the book. But so you won't miss the best line of the book, here it is:

"I would like to swim ten leagues in a strong soup made from the cojones of all of them!"

Now I'm reading Stephen King's new book, The Big Damn Plastic Bubble That Took Over A Town And Why We Need To Talk About It For Over A Thousand Pages 'Cuz My Editor Is Intimidated 'Cuz I've Sold More Books Than Jesus So Who's Gonna Say No To Me, You Monkeyspanks, or something like that. So far it's okay but I've had to roll my eyes a few times at some of Steve's corniness. That fella's got his own set of twitches and mannerisms and I think we're all familiar with 'em by now. There's a character named "Big Jim."

Speaking of literature, why do they call it literature when it's fiction? Isn't that the exact wrong word? How can it be a "literary" work when it's figurative? None of it's literal, so... huh. Wuthering Heights - great literature - is not literary, in that it did not happen. And why do they call the Bible "the gospel" when it's the biggest pack o' lies goin'? Someone recently told me that one of their Christian friends (an adult grown-up person) had just spent a couple of sleepless nights pondering how Noah could manage to collect two of every animal and house them on one boat. That's so incredibly sad-yet-hilarious I'm conflicted as to what to think about it. My mocking shall have a sympathetic tinge to it.

Here's a fun thing that you can do if you just don't care: go up to people and ask, slyly, "Are YOU part of the CONSPIRACY?" When they ask "What conspiracy?", you wink and say, "Perfect!" Then hand them a peanut. They'll wonder about that incident for the rest of their damned lives.

Have I ever mentioned how fucking racist and idiotic my high school was? It was a private school which I went to 'cuz I wasn't in the district for the good local public school (which was MUCH better than my high school; when I got to college I had to play a lot of catch-up compared to other local kids) and would've had to go to some tiny very-backwoods school that just sucked instead. I was kind of a "gifted" kid, so my parents decided to send me to this private school instead. Most of the kids at that school were going there because (a) their conservative parents didn't want 'em going to school with anybody who wasn't white, and (b) they were all radicalized Baptist separatists who wanted to keep their kids away from any "secular" kids. And that's just a perfect environment for a kid with a "furriner" name who saw through the "God" hooey about the same time he figured out Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were bunk. Got knives pulled on me a couple times over that shit, and my hands still hurt when it gets cold 'cuz of untreated broken knuckles incurred in self-defense. Several teachers freely used the n-word in class and at least a couple times a year some teacher or coach would have us put our heads down and would ask who didn't know Christ and would lead us to him in prayer. Good times! Thank fuck-all-whatsis I got to finally graduate and put an amen to that noise. They still send me class-reunion notices, though. Ha ha ha! Funny.

Anyway, I was going through one of my old annuals (1983, pg. 7) and noticed this picture taken at one of the school's Halloween carnivals. Somebody thought this was a clever'n'funny'n'cute costume to wear to school, ha ha ha. And the school agreed to the extent that they printed this picture in the fuckin' annual. If you did this shit nowdays, you'd be on CNN and the whole country would be pissed off about it, but 1983 was different days, cuz.

Ain't dat some loverly? Just like a little snapshot from hell.

Here is by far the nastiest, most depraved, disgusting joke I've heard lately, delivered by Arthur Hinty on Doug Stanhope's "Unbookables" CD, Morbid Obscenity:

"I don't understand women's logic at all. You ask a girl if you can fuck her in the ass, and she says 'Ah, it's a reasonable request, but I'm gonna say no.' So next week you say, 'Hey, how 'bout if you just shit in your hand and jack me off with it?' And that's sick somehow!"

I'm not even proud of re-telling that one. I don't know why I did, other than maybe I wanted to spread the guilt around a little. Stanhope's got a new one out, From Across the Street, that I should have waiting for me in the mail tomorrow, or soon thereafter. Nothin' helps ya through the Christmas season like some new Stanhope material.

Does anybody ever get just one sclerosis? It's always multiple.

Ever get scabs on your nipples? I've actually had scabby nipples before, and it's not fun. When I was a kid I used to spend a couple weeks out of the year in Pensacola, Florida, and I'd "surf" by laying across inflatable canvas rafts, and it would abrade. Thus, scabby nipples. Which is a pretty good band name. For a bad band.

(That "Science Patrol" thing way back there, by the way, is 'cuz I've been watching a DVD of Ultraman episodes, which have titles like "Charge Forth, Science Patrol!" Their space-fella suits have neckties on 'em. Yikes.)

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