Ahhhhh Yeah....

A true classic. Nothing more to say.

$240 Worth of Pudding - watch more funny videos

My Super Bowl boxes

So I got some of my numbers for this year's Big Game.

HAPPY ABOUT:
Steelers 7, Cardinals 3

UNSURE ABOUT:
Steelers 3, Cardinals 2

UNHAPPY ABOUT:
Steelers 9, Cardinals pi

Fuck you, Archimedes!

You got your Wheel in my Shenanigans!

So, what happens when you mix one recurring blog column that no one reads with another recurring blog column that no one reads? You get a cool-ass Siamese combo of the two into one write-up that no one will freaking read. Sweet!

The Wheel of Reviews lands on advertising this time, while we simultaneously call Shenanigans on Pizza Hut. Now let me start by saying I kind of like Pizza Hut, but I only eat it about once every two or three years in an effort to not die. To me, the defining characteristic of Pizza Hut is that it's pizza, but not really. It's their take on pizza. It's not like anything you'd find at the 56 places that all claim to be the one and only Original Rays in NY. It's closer to Pizzeria UNO, though UNOs is universally considered the more like eating Patrick Ewing's jock after triple overtime.

And now the latest ads in the current Pizza Hut campaign feature hidden cameras capturing people loving restaurant lasagna, only to find out it's really from Pizza Hut. Hmmm...my shenanigan-sense is tingling. Oh, and these impressed patrons are IN ROME, ITALY! Ummm, no. Not buying it. I smell bullshit (though it's possible that bullshit is one of the ingredients. I haven't made lasagna in a while.)



First off, I can't get my mind around people oohing and ahhing over Pizza Hut lasagna in the company's own corporate cafeteria, much less in Italy. And I wouldn't know how to say "this is the best mass-produced processed food-like substance ever!" in Italian.

Second, I have a hard time with the guy who says "it taste just like my mothers!" I believe they edited out the part where he later mentions that his mother has one eye, a gaping head wound and dementia bad enough to make her think she's Ernest Borgnine. Oh, and she's from Philly.

And lastly, the thing that just seems completely bogus is the rousing applause when they are told the food is really from Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut doesn't exist in Italy, so why are people so impressed? They don't even know what it means. Seriously, no one in the history of humans on this planet has ever emphatically applauded Pizza Hut. They could discover that Pizza Hut cures cancer and it would still only get applause equal to the arrival of Sanjaya Malakar at a car wash opening.

It all seems fishy to me. (Again, that could the ingredients. There's mackerel in lasagna, right?) So, I officially say to you Pizza Hut..."Shenanigans!"

NOTE: Pizza Hut has even shared a 'behind the scenes' look at making the commercial. As if they knew we'd all question it. Take a look...

Rock out with your Spock out.

This just made me laugh.

Where Are They Now: Mr. Owl

As part of an ongoing series, The Missing LiNK looks back on the stars of yesteryear to answer the question no one else (except VH1, E!, Biography, A&E, etc. etc.) can answer: Where are they now?

In this episode, The Missing LiNK caught up with world famous Tootsie Pop pitchman, Mr. Owl. To set the mood, let's look back at the performance that made Mr. Owl famous.



Since this soul-bearing take on the role of "tortured genius," Mr. Owl has seen his share of ups and downs.

TML: So, Mr. Owl, how many years has it been since "How Many Licks?" debuted?

MO: The spot first aired in 1970. I remember because I used my paycheck to become a minority owner in Studio 54.

TML: Um, Studio 54 didn't open until 1977.

MO: Did I say Studio 54? Sorry, I meant to say heroine and gimp hookers.

TML: Easy mistake. And the commercial still airs today, right?

MO: Not often, but it does pop up now and then. Mostly on kid's shows like SpongeBob, Hey Gabba Gabba or Soul Train.

TML: You disappeared for a while after the commercial made you a star. What happened?

MO: Well, sometimes the public has a hard time distinguishing the actor from the role. Apparently, America thought I was a bit of an asshole for stealing the kid's lollipop and they took it out on me in real life.

TML: Really? I always felt the scene between you and the kid was kind of touching.

MO: Touching? I never touched him. Why? What did he tell you? I always entertain co-stars in my trailer wearing ass-less chaps. Nothing happened!

TML: Okay. Back on topic. The public shunned you, so you kept a low profile. After enough time passed, did you try to get back in the game?

MO: Yeah, I tried. I waited until the eighties and got an agent who sent me out for dozens of roles. But every part I was up for consistently went to Michael J. Fox. That Canadian prick. I hope he gets a disease.

TML: Um, ever heard of Parkinson's?

MO: The Price is Right chick?

TML: Moving on.



TML: Martin and Lewis. Abbott and Costello. William Shatner and his toupee. Few Hollywood co-stars have ever clicked as instantly or as well as you and Mr. Turtle.

MO: It's true. Turtle was a pro's pro. Trained at the Royal Shakespearean Theater Company, graduate of the Actor's Studio. He was just so talented and easy to work with, you almost forgot that he was a flat, black and white, poorly animated reptile. I miss him dearly.



TML: What do you think of today's modern corporate pitchmen?

MO: I'm not impressed. They're no better than I was in my day, but they get tons of glory. The Geiko Gecko. The Aflac Duck. They are just cheap retreads of me and my generation, yet kids love them and they have toys and stuffed animals in their image. And don't even get me started about the sad state of animated pitchmen.

TML: You mean like Erin E-surance?

MO: Exactly. What a nobody, but she's got a national campaign going. Still, she is pretty hot. That's one piece of toon poon I'd like to tap.

TML: Please, Mr. Owl, some of our readers are children.

MO: Bullshit. You have no readers. It's a fucking blog no one knows about.

TML: That hurts.

MO: Toughen up, pansy.

TML: Mr. Owl, thanks for your time.

The first new "Sublime Nonsense" of 2009

It's back, more juvenile than ever. (click to enlarge)

Romo or Roma?

Tony Romo is the Dallas QB. Tony Roma's is the world famous "Place for Ribs." Apparently, Jess has been seeing plenty of both.


For more images of the transformation from babe to "Babe," click here. That'll do, Jess. That'll do.

Wheel of Reviews: Advertising - Chevy

Howie Long used to want me to buy Radio Shack stuff. Or soup. Or soup from Radio Shack, I can't remember. Lately he wants me to buy a Chevy Silverado, which is fine. I'm just wondering how or why pedophilia is involved. At the :20 mark of this spot, the little girl points directly at "Howie's Long" and says something about it being for big girls. I can't get my clients or their lawyers to let me do anything anymore, and Chevy lets kids manually inspect Long's towing capacity. Unacceptable.

Shenanigans

Okay, so whenever I feel like someone or something is just complete bullshit, I feel it's my civic duty to call "shenanigans." This will be a recurring bit here on The Missing LiNK, mostly because I hate being bullshitted.

CULPRIT: Dick Cheney
CHARGES: faking an injury, emotional manipulation for sympathy, attention-grabbing, impersonating a fat Professor X
SHENANIGAN LEVEL: 5 purely on speculation, 9 if it's ever proven

So, when I was a kid, I was playing baseball and I basically butchered a catch on a line drive that I should have caught. I ran towards the ball, but my faulty depth perception made sure I'd be well short of it. In a last gasp effort, I half-dove for the ball, stumbling like Stephen Hawking on roller skates. The ball went clear by me for a home run. Not only did I blow the play, but I looked ridiculous in the process. Using an impressive combination of quick thinking and utter cowardice, I writhed around on the ground for a while in pain. Was I hurt? A little. But my ego was mortally wounded. So I played the sympathy card so everyone would be more worried if I was okay than they were about my epic misplay. A secondary benefit was that all the attention was on me (I went for that a lot growing up) and not on the heroic homer hitter.

Why do I bring this up? Because I'm accusing our former Vice President of pulling the same exact crap. On a day where our country, and the world, gathered to inaugurate Barack Obama and usher in hope while ushering out the stench of Bush (insert obvious douche joke here), Mr. Cheney arrived at the event in a wheelchair. Do I know for a fact that the man didn't need one? Of course not. I'll even go so far as to offer a sincere apology and a "get well soon" if he is genuinely in pain. But seriously, now...packing and unpacking his own boxes? By an old man who has had people doing shit for him (both legally and illegally) for at least 8 years? I'm just not buying it. I find it FAR more likely that the man realized that relative to the bright light of optimism, his lopsided snarl and "to hell with you" attitude would come across like he was one of the hellish shadow creatures from "Ghost." I say that after using the Constitution like his personal diaper for so long, he thought people may judge him harshly as he heads out the door. So, 'what to do,' wonders the man who was recently quoted as saying "I don't understand why so few people like me" (HINT: people don't like you precisely for uttering statements like "I don't understand why so few people like me"). Cheney's solution? Garner false sympathy by showing up to the event in a freaking wheelchair. And, just like me lying on that field, Mr. Cheney enjoyed the side benefit of having the attention, which was fittingly on the history-making event around him, briefly diverted in his direction. So, to sum up, nice job, Dick.

Upon reviewing all the facts, or in this case, my blatant presumptions and opinions with zero proof, I officially say to you, Mr. Cheney: SHENANIGANS!

I Yam What I Yam...kind of a dick.

So what sort of random shit goes through my head when I've been drinking all night and I'm half awake/half asleep on the 10:52 train home? Well, the first thought is usually "please make that fat guy yelling into his phone shut the fuck up," but last night, it was also this...

When parents want their kids to eat their veggies, why do they still say "eat your spinach so you can grow up strong like Popeye?" Popeye? Really? This is what passes for a role model? Think about it, Popeye is a pipe-smoking, one-eyed sailor with tattoos. Is that what we want for our children? And I'm pretty sure that whatever he's putting in that pipe ain't tobacco. He mutters to himself constantly, has a serious speech impediment and often talks to "Eugene the Magical Jeep" who just pops up out of thin air. I usually see that from the guys hanging out in front of the meth clinic.



Also, no human being has arms like that naturally. If Popeye is clean, then Barry Bonds' head grew naturally and Mark McGwire was taking nothing but Flintstone's chewables. C'mon, Popeye had misshapen forearms, no hair and was prone to fits of rage. How much more evidence do we need?



And lastly, I think it's safe to say that substance abuse aside, the dude was just plain shady. His only friend is an unemployed deadbeat grifting hamburgers off of unsuspecting Samaritans. He also had no problem hitting a woman like The Sea Hag or Alice the Goon. And lastly, I'm pretty sure the guy was into incest. Seriously, how many guys do you know who have identical triplet nephews that all look exactly like him? Creepy.



So, the next time you need to use a hero to encourage kids to eat their vegetables, try reminding them that Nathan Hale loved brussell sprouts.

Wheel of Reviews: Advertising - Pepsi

Our brand is recognizable worldwide...so let's mess with it.


Just sayin'.

The nastiest thing to happen in the White House since Clinton left.

The Obamas do WHUT?!? Some people just shouldn't be allowed to speak on television.

If you're gonna be wrong, do it right.

Every now and then my sister actually emails me stuff I find funny. Thanks, Sue!

Sublime Nonsense

A few months ago, I started writing small web comics based around the random silly shit that floats in and out of my head from time to time. Thus, Sublime Nonsense was born. David Estoye, blogger extrordinaire (see his laugh-out-loud blog here) was posting them for me weekly, but from now on if/when I write a new one, it will be posted here. In the meantime, here's a quick flashback to previous strips (click to enlarge)...

It's time to introduce...The Wheel of Reviews! (echo echo echo)

What, you ask, is the Wheel of Reviews? This:



The Wheel of Reviews is the 4th most famous wheel in history. Obviously, #3 was the "Wheel of Fish" from the Weird Al Yankovic opus UHF. At #2 we have the world famous Wheel of Fortune, but not the bullshit Pat Sajak/Vanna White version. I mean the old school Chick Woolery/Susan Stafford version where you bought ceramic dalmatians and cheeses of the month and put the rest on gift certificate or account. And of course, the #1 wheel of all time is the Big Money Wheel from the bonus round of Match Game (back when no one knew for sure yet that Charles Nelson Riley "sucked blank"). Ironically, the actual wheel, which originated in ancient Mesopotamia in the 5th millennium BC and is perhaps the most important invention in the history of mankind, ranked only 78th. Go figure.

Anyway, from time to time, I will randomly (or not so randomly) spin the Wheel of Reviews and write a review pertaining to whatever category it lands on. Incidentally, I briefly considered making the 6th category "Toilet Paper" instead of "Sports," bust seriously, anyone who doesn't think Cottonelle is the best ever should piss off.

A Pun Done Well is Still a Pun...

This is an ad I conjured up years ago when working on a pitch for an Osteoporosis medication. I tweaked it slightly to make it for a foundation fighting Osteo. I still laugh at it every time, but when it was in my portfolio, creative directors would look at it, laugh out loud, and then say "you should take this ad out." I guess pun-bigotry is alive and well.

My very own personal blog? I must be important!

Honestly, I'm not sure why I even started my own blog. People who know me well know I have a lot to say, but that very little of it is worth hearing or reading. And even when I do luck into to something even a little worthwhile, it gets lost in the noise of everything else. So I guess THAT'S why I'm starting this...so that when I fall backwards into something I actually think bears being heard, I'll fling it into cyberspace and see if it sticks.

I also may post a few homemade web comics, some original ad ideas or anything else I find interesting. It's my blog...if you don't like it, eat shit!