tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12210343725940694362024-03-13T22:43:57.443-07:00The Suave IdiotAndres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-20621758603763353562015-07-29T15:23:00.002-07:002015-07-29T15:23:53.899-07:00Review(?): Did I Blackout and Make Kung Fury?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dXftk9MAPUQ/VblOxZcxaqI/AAAAAAAAAXE/83zyiHopm8M/s1600/kung-fury-moon-znark.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dXftk9MAPUQ/VblOxZcxaqI/AAAAAAAAAXE/83zyiHopm8M/s400/kung-fury-moon-znark.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via<a href="http://motionographer.com/2015/06/02/kung-fury/" target="_blank"> motionographer</a></span></div>
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If you've ever taken some time away from doing real things and perused through any posts I've put on here, then I have three things to say; 1. Thank you, it means a lot to me that anyone would do that; 2. No, I don't understand half of my jokes either. 3. You've probably noticed that I've written multiple times about <i>Kung Fury</i>, the Swedish 80s acid trip shot in front of a green screen that I didn't think was real, but then it was, making me wrong and feeling stupid. For me, watching the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89AxvewTS90" target="_blank">trailer</a> was a part of my daily routine for months, right up there with breathing and licking unknown objects. Well, the film finally came out, free of charge, on Youtube. In fact, it has been out for a while now. Guess I'm a little late to the party. If you are too, go watch it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS5P_LAqiVg" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lAGTmslg7Tg/VblQgSPi-FI/AAAAAAAAAXY/9UvRO0QgWXk/s1600/9c5b6f00c803bc09855854dd56515592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lAGTmslg7Tg/VblQgSPi-FI/AAAAAAAAAXY/9UvRO0QgWXk/s320/9c5b6f00c803bc09855854dd56515592.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via <a href="https://www.behance.net/gallery/25264915/Kung-Fury-Official-Movie-Poster" target="_blank">Behance</a></span></div>
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The film follows super cop and bicep-owner Kung Fury. Yes, his name is <i>actually</i> Kung Fury. Does that bother you or something? We can't all have more normal names like Tad, or Gustav, or whatever. Anyway, Kung goes about 1980s Miami, fighting sentient arcade machines and getting into trouble with his police chief, until Hitler shows up after traveling through time to cause chaos. Now, Kung Fury must travel back in time to face off against Adolf and his Nazi army in order to change his present. Oh, he also has a partner who is a Triceratops. Yup.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zTyQtjt0Inw/VblQHsc7H8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/fyD27YTvgyk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-07-29%2Bat%2B3.12.36%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zTyQtjt0Inw/VblQHsc7H8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/fyD27YTvgyk/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-07-29%2Bat%2B3.12.36%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS5P_LAqiVg" target="_blank">Youtube</a></span><br />
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Despite being just over 30 minutes long, there's plenty of insanity packed into each scene, from mythological gods to a surprise cameo that makes way too much sense. It's completely nuts. I want to say more, but, honestly, it feels like it needs to be seen for yourself. It's all shot in a grainy film style, too, capturing a great feel of 80s action films that would make Ahhnold and friends proud. The addition of "VHS effects," such as tape scrambling and tracking issues, make it all the better.<br />
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Everything about this movie is fun, which is most likely the problem for me as someone who wants to write about it. If I were a professional critic or writer (which my mommy <i>totally</i> says I am), I think I would be far too biased in reviewing <i>Kung Fury</i>. Every element seems too perfect to my tastes; the overall project feels like something I would do if I had the resources and ability to make a feature. In fact, I've started wondering... did I make this film? Did I black out at some point in my days and unknowingly go to Sweden, change my name, and start a Kickstarter? Maybe I had my first Tyler Durden moment, and, instead of bitching about IKEA and their Lego furniture, I went and prayed at its $1 Meatball alter. Or maybe, just maybe, there is another me out there. From another universe. Where Hitler knows kung fu. And this is his warning...<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e8VzNV5pI5I/VblR-x36F7I/AAAAAAAAAXs/ZDekm2FuCSk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-07-29%2Bat%2B3.21.20%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e8VzNV5pI5I/VblR-x36F7I/AAAAAAAAAXs/ZDekm2FuCSk/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-07-29%2Bat%2B3.21.20%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS5P_LAqiVg" style="font-size: x-small;" target="_blank">Youtube</a></div>
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<i>Kung Fury</i> is short and fun. More importantly, though, it almost immediately lets you know what it is and never pretends to be anything else, giving you that quick chance to walk away if it's not your glass of whiskey. Check it out <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS5P_LAqiVg" target="_blank">here</a>. And, Swedish Me, if you're reading this: I hear you loud and clear. Looking for a Commodore 64 as we speak. Also: you are very handsome.<br />
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Final Review: Lazer Raptor/6Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-34062040429029650712015-03-18T13:03:00.001-07:002015-03-18T13:06:51.007-07:00SHUT UP AND GO WATCH THIS: Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qJghlT1t6XA/VQnX9UIydFI/AAAAAAAAAUc/VetSZSEdQ80/s1600/Ellie-Kempers-Netflix-series-Unbreakable-Kimmy-Schmidt-gets-a-premiere-date.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qJghlT1t6XA/VQnX9UIydFI/AAAAAAAAAUc/VetSZSEdQ80/s1600/Ellie-Kempers-Netflix-series-Unbreakable-Kimmy-Schmidt-gets-a-premiere-date.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Netflix, via <a href="http://www.upi.com/Entertainment_News/TV/2015/01/11/Ellie-Kempers-Netflix-series-Unbreakable-Kimmy-Schmidt-gets-a-premiere-date/7641420832030/" target="_blank">UPI</a></span><br />
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Keeping yourself sane is pretty insane, when you think about it. We've all got shit to do, clearly; going to work, picking up the kids from tap lessons, cleaning your shotgun, blowing up that rival meth lab- the modern person tends to have a lot on their plate. It can wear on anyone, honestly. The beauty of the world we live in, however, is that there's always some way or another to distract you from all the "important" things and allow you to instead do the <i>important</i> things. You could go watch TV, or watch a movie, or watch TV or a movie on a computer or a tablet or a smartphone or whatever. Lots of options, you see.<br />
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There's a lot of times, though, where it's hard to find something that is worth your time. Hey, I get it, you being that important business person or firefighter or crazy cat lady, you can't afford to break from your busy schedule to peruse local listings or the newspapers for things relevant to your interests (do newspapers still do that? WAIT- do newspapers still EXIST?). Lucky for you, oh beautiful inhabitants of cyberspace, that is where I (attempt) to come in. Sure, you could listen Netflix's recommendations, or- OR, you could take my hand as I guide you to entertainment that I enjoy. Things like Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/mNKEKlXY3Z4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mNKEKlXY3Z4?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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I love me some Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. To put it eloquently, this shit is good. The show follows a woman named Kimmy (played by the energetic Ellie Kemper), who lived in an underground fallout shelter for 15 years after believing the Apocalypse had occurred. Realizing she has chance to live the life she wants, she decides to go out on her own in New York City, the place where every dreams always come true. Always, as in always always. No one's ever failed in New York City. True statement. From there, she uses her 8th grade education and her smiley face to live life to fullest, while learning about the world of 2015.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lj5BMn2E0_g/VQnWNEYNV1I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/3eUI0i3I134/s1600/zyTzoRS-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lj5BMn2E0_g/VQnWNEYNV1I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/3eUI0i3I134/s1600/zyTzoRS-1.gif" height="175" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">via <a href="http://imgur.com/gallery/zyTzoRS" target="_blank">imgur</a></span><br />
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The show is brought in part by Tina Fey. Yes, <i>that</i> Tina Fey. Even if you don't know the name, you've probably seen some of her work. Everything she's done in the last decade is pretty amazing, even the things people forget about. She wrote Mean Girls, which is five times better than it should be. She was one half of the best "Weekend Update" crew that SNL has had in years, along with Amy Poehler. And, of course, she created 30 Rock, classic comedy show that even got Alec Baldwin to behave for a few minutes.<br />
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The cast is crazy and fun, and it has the quick whit and strange sense of humor that made 30 Rock so fun (trust me, you loved 30 Rock- you told me that one time). Be on the lookout especially for Titus Andromedon, professional flyer distributor and friend of old Korean men, whose quotes I've accidentally used one time too many while out and about. So put down what I'm assuming is your shovel from your mining job, tell the kids to shut the hell, and hit up Netflix for some Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Hopefully, by the time you're done, I'll have some other weird recommendation that you can decide to not follow. Until then:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThHdnCzWtzs/VQnZY1NjdvI/AAAAAAAAAUo/7LaO9DeK2yE/s1600/kimmy-schmidt-pauly-shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThHdnCzWtzs/VQnZY1NjdvI/AAAAAAAAAUo/7LaO9DeK2yE/s1600/kimmy-schmidt-pauly-shore.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">via <a href="http://uproxx.com/tv/2015/03/but-billy-madison-did-the-20-funniest-unbreakable-kimmy-schmidt-pop-culture-references/" target="_blank">Uproxx</a></span><br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-45002657209226117612015-02-26T14:56:00.003-08:002015-02-26T14:56:46.486-08:00The Fake is Real: Kung Fury Lives<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dom7mG2TxTg/VO-ZArekXmI/AAAAAAAAATA/iOHOfmA96W8/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.05.49%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dom7mG2TxTg/VO-ZArekXmI/AAAAAAAAATA/iOHOfmA96W8/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.05.49%2BPM.png" height="211" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Safest way to drive, probably. Maybe.</i></span></div>
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A while back (a while, while, back... damn I suck at writing things on a normal basis), I decided to put together a list of some of <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/12/fcktards-my-favorite-movie-trailers-of.html" target="_blank">my favorite trailers from 2013</a> in anticipation of hating all the films that they were advertising. Thanks, cynicism! The whole list represented the best of the best at building hype for their counterparts for my viewing interests, something that tends to be all over the place.</div>
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One trailer, however, stood out amongst the rest as being particularly interesting: Kung Fury. Set in the neon glow and grainy camera work of an 80's coke-fueled dreamworld, a cop with SUPER KUNG FU sets to take down crime on the streets- and in the past, as he seeks to take on martial arts superstar, Adolph Hitler (guess the history books neglected that little detail). It had everything I really ever needed in life that isn't pizza burgers covered mini roasted chickens and cheese: exotic race cars, guns, kick-ass fight scenes, a Power Glove, and a viking lady riding a dinosaur. Just check this out, for your sake and mine:</div>
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Wonderful. Just, beautiful (if video doesn't work here, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8l2n_nn9BCg" target="_blank">try this</a>). Ernest Hemmingway would be proud watching this in terms of viewing the evolution of narrative voices using multi-faceted compositions of storytelling techniques or whatever if he saw this shit. The only problem I had with this trailer was that it was just something made for a fake movie. The trailer itself, it seemed, was the work as a whole; rather than a sample of the whole pig fat fried enchilada, it was the WHOLE enchilada fried in pig fat (dammit, now I'm hungry again). I loved it, but just felt so short changed at the time. How could someone tease me so much with everything that made me who I am today?</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1BgYwul_0s/VO-glQxFjSI/AAAAAAAAATQ/xkxVeDXRa3w/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.38.48%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1BgYwul_0s/VO-glQxFjSI/AAAAAAAAATQ/xkxVeDXRa3w/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.38.48%2BPM.png" height="242" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I can relate, buddy. I can relate.</i></span></div>
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Well, it looks like I just have a shitty sense of patience. Turns out, <i>Kung Fury</i> is real. <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/12/fcktards-my-favorite-movie-trailers-of.html" target="_blank">Like, very real</a>. Possibly realer than you or I, if you want to get all quantum physical with me (you don't want to get all quantum physical with me). And my heart is overjoyed. I'm pretty sure they made this movie just for me, as if they were reading my dream journal and just felt really bad for me. They just missed the part about the Bengal Tigers with jetpacks and Beatrix Kiddo fighting space vampires. But I'm sure that can be added at a later point.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SgXjGCXRjZI/VO-kNJD02yI/AAAAAAAAATc/YxJBaNBkVIk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.54.15%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SgXjGCXRjZI/VO-kNJD02yI/AAAAAAAAATc/YxJBaNBkVIk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-02-26%2Bat%2B2.54.15%2BPM.png" height="308" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sweet nips, Grandpa!</span></i></div>
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Director David Sandberg has stated recently that they are expecting to have the final product complete sometime in March, with a release date soon after. And how can you find this potential Oscar winner for Best Use of a Bandanna? Why, my lovely friend, you can simply go on onto Youtube and watch it once it's been uploaded. For free. That is insane, and I love everything about it. </div>
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Until it happens, though, you should go and check out their trailers, features about how they made everything, and even their website, all linked somewhere around this blog. What am I, virtual Sacagawea? Find it yourself, Lewis and Dork. Let the <i>Kung Fury</i> commence!</div>
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Why the hell are you still here? Go support the <i>Kung Fury</i> guys. Get out of here.</div>
<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-80427318110216494212014-09-13T10:18:00.001-07:002014-09-16T22:57:57.807-07:00And Now, A Letter: To the Asshat Who Stole my Side View Mirror...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GDFzS2JTgf4/VBOQQLRYAPI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lqIH5-sAnSs/s1600/20140908_143113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GDFzS2JTgf4/VBOQQLRYAPI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lqIH5-sAnSs/s1600/20140908_143113.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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My Dearest Asshat,<br />
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Hey, how are you? Hope your days are sunny and full of puppies or whatever the hell. My name is Andres, an adventurous and compassionate dummy that owned the Jeep whose rear view mirror you stole the other night. It was quite strange, I must say, coming to my car and noticing that something was awry with my truck (or SUV, if it pleases you). My head was high, belly full of Korean BBQ, and I was looking forward to staring at pictures of cats and watching <i>Jingle All The Way</i> for the 37th time when I stopped in my tracks, seeing the mount twisted around and the wires hanging low. As any normal person would, I immediately inspected the surrounding street area, thinking that someone had simply clipped the poor vehicle. I began searching for the pieces that I assumed had broken off, coming to the conclusion that there were none. Upon a closer analysis, I realized the the mount and inner pieces of the mount itself were still intact, the wires gently pulled out with care and the casing that protected it were still in their rightful places. Just the mirror was gone. Wow.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xEZcm6Qp-O8/VBOQS6ee13I/AAAAAAAAAQc/oX7foLjUoWY/s1600/20140901_223218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xEZcm6Qp-O8/VBOQS6ee13I/AAAAAAAAAQc/oX7foLjUoWY/s1600/20140901_223218.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Also, the back cover fell off later. Not your best lift, I must admit.</i></span></div>
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I must admit, the first description of the scene that came to me was simply "fuck." My thoughts began to run with questions and commentary. What the hell? What am I looking at here? Is this some kind of joke? I don't think I could ever imagine this scenario. I really want more BBQ. And so forth. Needless to say, you had put me in quite the strange predicament, something even a weirdo such as myself is ill-prepared for. <br />
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As I drove home, though, constantly checking a mirror that no longer existed in it's destined place upon my Jeep, most of my anger turned to curiosity and wonderment. Such a specific thing to illegally appropriate from another human being, and so out of the way from the other possible things that could be stolen. What you could possibly want or need my little mirror for? What purpose would it serve you? I mean, surely someone with a rational mind and normal sensitivity to the color urple* would just conclude you either did it as a fun prank, or took it to replace the mirror formerly found on your Jeep, itself possibly stolen by someone who needed one as well, continuing the infinite cycle. Instead, my mind went rampant with bevy of strange conclusions that you must have needed it for. Here were some of my favorites:<br />
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<li>You had a friend that is most definitely a vampire, possibly a pirate vampire because that sounds like even more fun, and you wanted to prove it to him. So you took the mirror off to show him his lack of reflection, and simply forgot to return the mirror to itself rightful mount.</li>
<li>You've created some type of Rube Goldberg machine, and needed something to reflect light that activates a solar panel, which in turn powers a car filled with kittens that drives itself directly into a furnace, because you hate joy and soft things.</li>
<li>You wanted to make a set of those that lets you see up skirts and what not, but you only had one mirror you stole from a 2005 Volkswagen Jetta and you were just thinking about how <i>badly</i> you needed those shoes as you were passing my SUV.</li>
<li>You have a bad case of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mechanophilia" target="_blank">Mechanophilia</a>, and my mirrors just happen to be the Scarlett Johanssons of car parts.</li>
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Or, you could just simply be a dick. I mean, what do I know in the end of all this? We never got to meet, maybe have a beer, discuss mirrors and the reasons we take them, etc. And, to be honest, that saddens me. I love meeting interesting people and doing interesting things, and you seem to be a person (man, woman, or Cylon) who seems to have both going for them, so I've clearly missed the opportunity to make a new BFF. Just as life goes on after break-ups and eating the <a href="http://extremeicecream.blogspot.com/2011/02/extreme-ice-cream-challenge-vermonster.html" target="_blank">Vermonster </a>Challenge at your Local Ben & Jerry's dealer, though, so will I, a sense of wonder tucked into the back of my mind.<br />
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At the end of it all, I just hope that the mirror has gone to a good place, somewhere where it will be appreciated for it's strong virtues and it's uncanny ability to notify people that "objects are closer than they appear." That was my favorite part about it. Just make sure to wash it regularly, wipe it down, and check it to make sure no one is coming up in your blind spot while changing lanes to the left. It what it was made for. Oh, and finally:<br />
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Kisses,<br />
Dre<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-72280328393495086912014-07-22T13:27:00.001-07:002014-07-22T13:27:53.432-07:00Grantland's Rap Man Grand Stand... I Ran Out of Rhyming Words FIGHT!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>-This post is dedicated to the memory of my dear friend, <a href="http://pauletics.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Paul Valencia</a>. Rest in pe... oh right, Paul's not dead. He's not even sick. He just suggested this to me. The hell was I thinking about?</i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Best guy ever? It's possible.</span></i></div>
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For those of you not in the know, <a href="http://grantland.com/" target="_blank">Grantland</a> is an awesome website dedicated to bringing you the latest and greatest news and features on sports, movies, music, feminism, etc. It's home to a plethora of writers who put me to shame, with noteworthy contributors such as sports ace Bill Simmons, the only man badass enough to dress like a 12-year-old on ESPN amongst thousand-dollar suits and still be so highly respected. He's awesome, and you should read his work or go listen to his podcast. Seriously, go do that shit. Don't test me.<br />
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Today, though, I bring up issue with a one <a href="http://grantland.com/contributors/shea-serrano/" target="_blank">Shea Serrano</a>, a funny guy who wrote an article back in May called <a href="http://grantland.com/hollywood-prospectus/the-if-i-fought-this-rapper-would-i-win-chart/" target="_blank">The ‘If I Fought This Rapper, Would I Win?’ Chart</a>, a charted view and analysis of your chances when taking it to fisticuffs with some of hip hop's biggest names (and Tyga- HA!). It's a good read, and definitely worth your time if you really want to know about what brand of car Busta Rhymes most likely lifts in his off time (think Jeff Bridges, kids), but I think I have a few issues with the list overall. And by issues, I really just mean separate observations and opinions disguised as an excuse to take some one's idea and write my own thoughts about it. So here I am, more than two months after the fact, to weigh in on the subject when no one really asked me to. Because I'm timely and self-important like that.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Don't Underestimate Rick Ross after Kriss Kross(fit)</span></b><br />
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So yeah, this came after the fact and all, but still, it's something to think about. Rick Ross decided you had enough of not fitting into his Aston Martin and <a href="http://thegrio.com/2014/06/25/rick-ross-joins-crossfit-drops-more-than-100-pounds/" target="_blank">dropped 100 pounds</a>, working his ass off (literally... I think?) using a Crossfit regimen that I'm sure will have tons of people back and forth arguing about how bad/good Crossfit is for you. Does that translate to a superior set of fighting skills? Not at all, because it does create a stronger sense of scrappiness, something to always factor in with formerly-fatter people.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Shea Clearly Avoided Readily-Available Stats</span></b><br />
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Mr. Serrano is a good writer, one I enjoy immensely. I do, however, need to question his methods of obtaining the information he used to make said analysis seems a little... lacking. I mean, when you really explore the information super highway, you can learn just about anything you need to put together a solid article. So all he really, really needed to do in order to give this article a bit more footing was to watch and critique footage from EA's masterpiece Def Jam Fight For NY.<br />
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Clearly, this game set out back in 2004 to clue in the world as to just how badass rappers are, just as their lyrics about ladies of the bitch type and Escalades had thus so inclined. If he really wanted to know just what Regular Snoop Dogg was truly capable of, he only had to spend three minutes Youtubing a video game I played a few times back in the day, just like I did. <br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">SNOOOOP. SNOOP ALOOP!</span></i></div>
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And let's not forget the sequel, Def Jam: Icon, which lead to bringing even more rappers into the fray, and. for the first time in recorded history, displaying a wordsmith's ability to punch harder when fighting to "magical beat" that must play when they perform their daily tasks or raising a column of fire from nowhere during a "bass hit," as the kids call it.<br />
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Speaking of bringing more fighters into the fray...<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>WHERE THE HELL IS MY WU TANG CLAN?!</b></span><br />
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Killer Beez on the track... or not, in this case. Come on, guy, how can you leave out the group who talks about nearly nothing but fighting within their 36 Chambers? Spending developing their Tiger Style? Who have told people constantly they "ain't nothing to fuck wit?" The RZA? Method Man? I Feel like Ghostface would clearly stomp me out in a heartbeat, before I'd even get a chance to even question his gigantic, golden eagle bracelet and its origins. I'm just looking for them to be on that chart even on a solo basis, holding their own.<br />
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Also, they're older nowadays, but that just gives their abilities a little more mystery and a possibility of "grand mastery," as I'm going to write, well-aware of the air quotes I just made with my hands.<br />
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Also also, they had their own video game as well, one of the bloodiest of all time.<br />
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Video games are mirror images of real life, right? Based on fact and proof, right? RIGHT?!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Seriously, Though, Don't Fuck With DMX</span></b><br />
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Just don't. Serrano was right all along.<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-63450389919529192002014-03-27T10:53:00.000-07:002014-03-27T10:53:03.589-07:00The Madness of March Madness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r_xuVfdsJ5A/UzRbeDm6t9I/AAAAAAAAAM4/Zecg8ukvR1c/s3200/ID-10036456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r_xuVfdsJ5A/UzRbeDm6t9I/AAAAAAAAAM4/Zecg8ukvR1c/s3200/ID-10036456.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">Free Digital Photos</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This picture was literally titled "Young Caucasian Boy While Playing Basket Ball." It made me giggle.</i></span></div>
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Ah, March. What a month, eh? It's that time of the year where the snow melts before it drops again, and everyone finds an excuse to drink until they can't feel their toes while wearing a ridiculous amount of green, plastic shamrock beads ("Today, I'm Irish!"- 90% of America). March is also one of the biggest sports months of the year, with the NHL and the NBA lighting up the screens of rancid-smelling sports bars and baseball players warming up their arms and bats they prepare for a new season. It's all pretty wonderful if you enjoy sweaty muscles and balls... uh, wait, that didn't come out the way I intended.<br />
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<i style="font-size: small;"> </i><a href="http://themetapicture.com/im-not-very-athletic/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The Meta Picture</span></a><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">There. Back on track.</span></i></div>
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The real madness of sports all up in your March is just that: March Madness. MARCH. MADNESS. 64 of the NCAA's best teams come together (according to statistics and polls, at least- calm down, <span style="background-color: white;">West Liberty f</span>ans) to battle it out for the right to call themselves champions. It's also a wonderful time of discovery for everyone, from players to pro scouts to that guy who eats the majority of the boneless chicken wings at Buffalo Wild Wings even though he's CLEARLY not covering part of the bill, as unknown teams get a chance to prove their abilities against schools with huge followings and athletes get to showcase a preview of their future potentials. Glory is created. Upsets are inevitable. <a href="http://www.uproxx.com/sports/2014/03/lets-take-moment-celebrate-great-march-madness-tradition-vasectomies/" target="_blank">Vasectomies are had</a>, for one reason or another. Suddenly, your girlfriend and grandmother are going nuts, proudly donning their school colors and cheering until they get bored and wish you weren't such an asshole about HAVING to watch Harvard upset Cincinnati in the first round. Numbers get a huge boost in adjective collaboration, with Sweet 16's and Final Fours brightly emblazoned on millions of TVs. It's all good times.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/basketball-player-hold-ball-for-shoot-photo-p250183" target="_blank">Free Digital Photos</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And here we have "Basketball Player Hold Ball For Shoot." Such art.</i></span></div>
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Here's the thing about March Madness that always gets to me, and, mind you, it's just a silly observation from some guy probably doesn't observe enough in this world- March Madness is also one of the maddening, anger-inducing times of the year. When I say angry, I don't mean angry angry, like punching a hole in the wall mad or seeking vengeance for your dead father rage. Rather, I'm talking about the anger that comes with one of the biggest staples of the tourney: filling out your bracket. Everyone gives you an opportunity to do so- ESPN, CBS, other corporations or companies that are only associated with their acronyms, sometimes offering prizes in the process. When you sit down to fill one out, though, you begin to realize just how important it can suddenly become to your life; this is your chance to predict the future. This is you showing off your true level of fandom for college basketball. You know the stats, you've read the blogs and might have even taken a piss near Coach K that one time at that one place, maybe. <i>You've got this</i>. Now, you can show off to everyone that you know where the future of collegiate is heading as well as where it's been. Who can stop you now? Your bracket, that's who.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The only part of my bracket that didn't have a "Red Wedding" theme to it.</i></span></div>
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Your bracket doesn't give a shit about you. Your bracket laughs at you. No matter how prepared you were, it's there to push you when you're down. You spent all that time, raising it from its hefty first round until it was to mature into that one team that won it all, and how does it return the favor that is the gift of life? It maniacally crosses out 83% of your picks* and pisses on your shoes. Oh, you thought Duke was at least looking at an Elite Eight birth? Bitch, please. Never heard of Stephen F. Austin University? Yeah, your bracket is going to <i>make</i> you remember them now. It just takes your ego and stomps out all the gushy parts, which is about as eloquent as I can express that feeling.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Did you know that about 72% of all percentages are made on the spot?</span></i><br />
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I think the worse aspect about your shitty bracket is actually every other bracket created by loved ones and potential enemies. You spent time and effort to create yours, showing just how loyal you are to the game- no, to the ideals of what makes college basketball so special and unique. And it just sucks as all hell. Meanwhile, grandma, with her University of Kentucky sweater and sock garters from her 1946 graduation gift on, is smoking your ass in the rankings, having successfully picked out 30 of the first 32 victors, only missing the other two because she fell asleep or [insert other old person joke here]. Then there's your twelve year-old cousin, still not quite ready for horror movies or driving a vehicle, but she definitely picked Dayton over Ohio State because "their uniforms had prettier colors." Her choices just laugh their asses off at yours, kicking sand in their faces and flexing while your ashamed bracket girlfriend just looks on, embarrassed.<br />
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And that's just how it is. Every year. The excitement and wonder of March Madness always walks that path to misery and foolishness, as you realize that maybe you AREN'T actually smarter than those guys on Sports Center with the crazy plaid suits. So fuck you, March Madness, for being so awesome and horrible for my sports ego. I need something to take my mind off of all this. Preferably sports and/or crotch related.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://search.cheezburger.com/?q=football+to+groin#simpsons" target="_blank">Senor GIF</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tends to be my Go-To for a small moment of joy.</span></i></div>
Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-85159745638508432282014-03-19T11:38:00.001-07:002014-03-19T11:49:07.038-07:00That Time I Stopped Writing Shitty Jokes For A While<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hey everyone, how y'all (all three of you, I'm guessing) doing? Been a while since we've met here, on this random Blogger page and I made some snarky comment about shitty commercials or used my lack of eloquence to marvel at a soft drink featuring an <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/11/adventures-with-andres-soda-of-shaq.html" target="_blank">American Treasure</a>. I know, I know, I'm sure you were probably worried, calling the Internet Police to make sure one of their super sleuths headed on over to make sure I was still alive and writin', or whatever. Thanks for that, means a lot to me. <br />
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Truth is, life got kinda weird, as it tends in those random moments you never see coming. It's not all "bad" in the concept of what that word implies, it was a lot of times that just came across as... off. You know, those moments where everything feels not center of what you perceived it to be. Kind of makes you stop what you're doing and distracts from all the important crap that makes you feel alive. It happens to everyone and often, and sometimes you don't really know what to make of it all, ya know? Oh, you don't? That's cool, I guess. Enjoy your stainless steel life then, I guess...<br />
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Anyway, enough of my weird thoughts. Point is, I'm back. Or trying to be. This is fun, believe it or not, and gives me a chance to openly bitch and moan about all the pointless, arbitrary aspects of modern culture that my friends and loved ones are sick of me whining about to their faces on my dirty, whiskey-soaked soapbox. I always hope for people to read this all, too, as I don't see any fun in being offended by myself by <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/11/commercials-are-assholes-part-1.html" target="_blank">Geico commercials that are racist against pigs</a> or other nonsense. So to those of you who are reading any of this, I want to say thank you for stopping in and looking at my sloppy writing style and disregard for quality comedy. Means a lot to me that you came through, even for just a moment, as it means I did something that someone saw, maybe just that one time before they went back to their yoga classes or smearing Nutella on their face. Hope it has been worth your bit of time you gave it.<br />
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If this is your first time here, then welcome to The Suave Idiot. Feel free to let me know how much it sucks. This is the Internet, after all. And now, for something much funnier than I:<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-16529817618709525222013-12-31T16:48:00.001-08:002014-01-15T00:48:08.722-08:00"F*cktards:" My Favorite Movie Trailers of 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BXeLwxAgNOs/UsNjStczSPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/GE8ocW8pRic/s1600/ID-100169307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BXeLwxAgNOs/UsNjStczSPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/GE8ocW8pRic/s400/ID-100169307.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Oh, uh, not what I meant, guys...</span></i></div>
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So, my sexy, slightly hair readers, it is time I confess that I have a bit of a problem, possibly a sickness: I watch too many movies. Like, too many too many. Yeah, that many. It's a problem. For some unexplained reason or another, my brain was built to desire and store as many films and references from said films as possible. Most people strive to learn important skills or knowledge, like financial mathematics or how to con old ladies out prices rubies. Me? I can quote<i> 40 Year-Old Virgin</i> from beginning to end. I can even tell you the old Indian guy's real name. It's sad, I know.<br />
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All that said, I actually didn't see a ton of movies this year. Between my hernias, moving across the country, and a disturbing Faberge egg addiction, I haven't found myself staring at a giant screen while wondering if the stickiness on the floor was a homeless person's semen or a non-homeless person's semen very much. Makes me sad, honestly. I did, however, find some time to watch a shit ton of trailers. Edited with quick action shots and carefully chosen music to pull you in, movie trailers are essentially commercials for their full version counterparts. Which... well, which would explain why they are in commercials on television. Nailed it (I'm such a good writer). So, as the year winds down, and we say goodbye to 2013, I figured I'd share my favorites, in no particular order. No, I don't want to rank them. Don't tell me how to blog. <br />
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<b>Man of Steel</b><br />
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So this trailer actually came out last year, but I didn't see it until sometime in January, so suck it. Either way, this trailer has all the essentials necessary to sell you on a movie as dramatic and epic as this was; a moving score, some major action sequences mixed in with beautiful landscape shots, and Michael Shannon (who also plays the awesome Agent Van Alden in <i>Boardwalk Empire</i>) looking sadistic as fuck. It's got everything you need to get excited and wish you looked that good in leather pajamas.<br />
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<b>Anchorman 2 </b><br />
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I spent most of my undergraduate career, in between heavy drinking and failing to understand most of my instructors' accents, quoting the first <i>Anchorman</i> until everyone hated me. Upon first sight on this trailer, it was confirmed that I would probably be doing the same once again, just with more wrinkles and shame on my face. The boys are back, everyone, and they're hear to read the damn news.<br />
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<b>47 Ronin</b><br />
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I've got a few friends who were quite obsessed with that weird rom-com series of movies about the two short guys who were in love, also known as<i> Lord of The Rings</i> (seriously, just kiss already, Sam and Frodo). It seems like Gandalf and crew have basically laid the groundwork for the fantasy genre, as movies about white folks with broad swords continue to pop up constantly. So this trailer felt like a breath of fresh air, delving into Japanese themes and mythologies in a beautiful presentation... with a white guy still dominating the screen. But hey, at least it was a katana this time.<br />
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<b>Wolf of Wall Street</b><br />
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I still haven't seen this movie, but after watching the trailer I gotta say it looks fun as fuck. How could it not? All the money and women, cars, and midgets anyone ask for. Plus: Leo DiCaprio popping and/or locking.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> via <a href="http://gifrific.com/jordan-belfort-dance-the-wolf-of-wall-street/" target="_blank">Gifrific</a></span><br />
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Never forget, children. Never forget.<br />
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<b>The To Do List</b><br />
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Oh, Aubrey Plaza, how you make me smile. Between your awkward interviews and the way you look hot while scowling, you make my heart flutter in a weird, almost spastic way. Also: 1993, Donald Glover calling people "fucktards," and Bill Hader introducing himself to a guy whilst boning said guy's daughter. Awesome sauce.<br />
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<b>Hercules: The Legend Begins</b><br />
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Something you need to know: I think I may love bad trailers just as much as I love good trailers. And holy fuck-on-a-stick is this trailer, though it may not be its own fault. This movie looks awful on an ungodly level, and this trailer does what it can with what it's got. Everything about it is horrible, as it looks like a mish mash of multiple movies that were all created specifically to make me laugh. I couldn't stop giggling after "He Followed His Heart" flashed across the screen.<br />
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<b>Interstellar (Teaser)</b><br />
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This one isn't even a trailer; it's a teaser, which is actually a trailer for a trailer, when you think about it. Holy shit, that seems even dumber when you write it like that. Regardless, it's awesome, and goes to show how simplicity can sometimes be your greatest feature.<br />
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<b>22 Jump Street</b><br />
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Again, get excited, Powers. This Red Band trailer for the follow-up to the excellent 21 Jump Street shows that the sequel is most likely more of the same, but, in this case at least, is not necessarily a bad thing. More drugs, cursing, Nick Offerman looking annoyed, and busts than you could really ask for. Also, Rob Riggle has a vagina now, so that's fun.<br />
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<b>The Raid 2: Berandal</b><br />
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<i>The Raid: Redemption </i>is fucking awesome. Seriously, it's just, like, seriously, the shit. I'm getting a violence stiffy just reminiscing. <i>The Raid 2: Berandal</i> looks to keep my odd arousal going, thanks to this wonderful, well-paced trailer that shuts off the sounds and shows you the fists. Well played, trailer. Well played.<br />
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<b>Kung Fury</b><br />
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Finally, we come to an odd one: a trailer for a movie that is not (yet, at least) a real movie. But fuck it, it still counts, and by the ghost of Bea Arthur this shit looks great. I've watched it a least a thousand times, and I'll probably watch it a thousand fucking more. Vikings with Uzis. 80s colors and lighting. Hitler. Well, actually, fuck Hitler. But also sidekicks. And dino riding. Hell yeah.<br />
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So that's it, kids, those were my favs. Did you have any favorite trailers that stood out to you? Or did you happen to see any of these movies? Were they any good? Got any gum? Mind giving me a piece? Let me know in the comments below or wherever. Also, I want to take the time to go ahead and thank anyone an everyone who's been reading these as I've started trying to figure them out. I'm hoping to do a bit more with all this next year and some other projects as well. Merry New Year to you all, and here's to being an idiot. Cheers, bitch.Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-32881212121801516702013-12-25T10:20:00.006-08:002013-12-25T10:20:40.165-08:00Hump Day HaHa: Suck My (Christmas) Gif(t) (More Parentheses) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Via <a href="http://braindeadradio.com/2013/04/02/movie-of-the-day-die-hard/" target="_blank">Brain Dead Radio</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Die Hard, bitches. It's the adult Home Alone. Go watch that shiz.</span></i></div>
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Happy holidays, you sexy, possibly mid-day drunk readers! I know, I know, this entry starts with a whole bunch of Christmas, including Die Hard (seriously, go watch it now), but I gotta acknowledge the multitude of celebrations and happiness going on everywhere and anywhere this time of year. That and someone told me recently that not everyone believes in the fat, bearded guy in the red suit who flies all over the world delivering gifts while rocking a sweet keytar. I had no clue! Did you? Wait, why didn't you tell me? Well, fuck you too then.<br />
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Where was I? Oh right, Christmas. So this week's hump day is special because it falls on Christmas! So, while you enjoy waking up at 6 a.m. while the kids in the house freak the fuck out over their new Colecovisions (DATED REFERENCE, BITCH) or whatever and mom just looks on pissed that Darren suddenly doesn't like the pea coat he just unwrapped when he begged for it two months ago, I bring you gifs and Youtube videos, because I care. That, and I don't have any money... so suck it. First off, we have Jon Lajoie, aka Taco from The League (it's on Netflix, so put that on your list too, fool), with a special Christmas song just for you... and, well, you know, anyone who watches it, I guess:<br />
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Well said comma mark Taco. Well said. Next up is a classic song sung by a crazy biracial woman and acted out by a bearded man in a Santa skirt and blond wig on Chatroulette with random strangers. And no, I can't believe I just typed that sentence either, but damn it was fun. From Steve Kardynal (who apparently does shit like this a lot and has OVER 3,000,000 FUCKING SUBSCRIBERS HOLY FUCK) comes Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas is You:"<br />
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Can't tell if I'm now gay or blind because of that. Oh well. Finally, for all my Kwanzaa fans comes "Happy Kwanzaa Charlie Brown," a tale of one young, Caucasian man and his quest to get his unemployment check and his brown snake wet. WARNING: highly offensive and full of jive. Don't know what jive is? Shame on you, cracker:</div>
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And there you have it, folks. If you found yourself online today on this amazing day (or this Wednesday, if it pleases you), then I hope this brought a smile to your Eggnog-covered face. So Merry Christmas exclamation point. Regardless of how or what you do, I hope everyone has an amazing holiday season, and don't leave grandma outside for too long- she gets cold after a few minutes. Now everybody get down to the merry beat!</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Via </span><a href="http://www.uproxx.com/tv/2012/12/lets-talk-about-last-nights-happy-endings-no-ho-ho/" style="font-size: x-small;" target="_blank">Uproxx</a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Oh, and </i>Happy Endings<i>. Watch that one, too.</i></span></div>
Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-79979576795958231132013-12-16T13:41:00.000-08:002013-12-16T13:41:05.877-08:00Deep Thoughts While Dying of Too Much Korean BBQ<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Inspiration is such a weird thing. It can be everywhere and nowhere all at once. It's this thing that hits us all in our strange, random moments, and can bring some individuals to sick levels of greatness. And sometimes, that inspiration comes in extreme ways. </div>
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History is filled with artists, writers, and musicians with "habits" that inspired their work. Salvador Dali had his hashish, Ben Franklin had his opium, and Orson Welles had frozen peas, I think. These were the keys that, for these wondrous and unique individuals, opened the gates of inspiration; they allowed them to open their minds, dropping the inhibitions that shorten the gaze of inspirations, and probably gave them an excuse to wave glow sticks and bunny hop at sweet rave parties. And now I, Andres Domenech, powerful and influential amateur internet blogger (Now with over five readers, probably!), believe that I have found the key to my wordsmithing and amazing creativity: overeating at an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ restaurant.</div>
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<a href="http://odaesanla.com/" target="_blank">O Dae San's</a> is my jammy jam. Located in the heart (or the lung, possibly) of Koreatown in L.A., it's a hopping and happening food joint where waiters bring you huge, unlimited plates of tasty meats with names I'll never be able to pronounce but will always love. Said meat is brought to you and cooked right in front of your sweaty face, on a grill built into the table that allows you to cook at your own pace, unless you're spoiled like me and have an expert who knows how to cook some dead animal.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is Kevin. He is adorable. Go love him. Now.</span></i></div>
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It's simply amazing. Food just keeps coming and coming and coming, until your belt snaps and your girlfriend no longer finds you physically attractive. And the cost? A little over 20 Dead Presidents (that's money, Kyle) for the expensive meats. Awesome sauce. Music to my cholesterol-filled ears. </div>
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It is in the wake of joyous stomach pains from this amazing staple of a culture I know nothing about, happy yet hurting like a motherfucker, that I find myself in a surreal state of consciousness, delving deeply into the human condition, asking the questions and pondering the heavy concepts that no one truly gives a shit about. And I though I'd share my inspired thinking with you lovely people in hopes you seeing my true idiocy. And yes, they've been italicized to provide emphasis. Genius, I know:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">You know that voice that tells you stop eating? Yeah, that guy died for me a while ago...</span></i></div>
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<i>-Why is it that old, wealthy white men feel the need to tan until they look like orange leather jackets that have melted in an iron forge? There's no way that can look good in any one's twisted mind.</i></div>
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<i>-I wish Wu Tang Financial was a real thing. I'd trust the RZA and Method Man with my cash flow, hell, I'd actually save money for the sake of talking to Ghostface Killah about opening up that new Killer Beez CD investment account with high yield interest rates. Ain't nothin' to fuck wit.</i></div>
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<i>-What was it like for the first people to have sex? Like, how did they figure that shit out? Did a woman just trip over a dinosaur egg or whatever and fall on a guy one day while he had morning wood? So weird.</i></div>
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<i>-They should sell Nutella by the handful. And by the handful, they should just scoop that shit up and put right in my hand. Delicious.</i></div>
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<i>-If I was rich, I'd buy Bryan Cranston. Not for any real purpose; he just seems like an awesome dude. We'd go get coffee, maybe throw rocks at the Beta Sigma Kai girls, and paint fences while discussing the trials and tribulations of man. Plus, I could make him knock on doors and introduce himself as the danger. Fucking awesome.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">via <a href="http://pandawhale.com/post/27340/celebrities-read-mean-tweet-gifs" target="_blank">Panda Whale</a></span></div>
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<i>-I miss </i>Happy Endings<i>. Not the hand job things you get at the end of massages. The show with Eliza Cuthbert and Damon Wayans, Jr. Great show.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> via <a href="http://www.uproxx.com/tv/2013/01/lets-talk-about-last-nights-happy-endings-the-marry-prankster-our-best-friends-wedding/2/" target="_blank">Warming Glow</a></span></div>
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<i>-When is McDonald's going to finally jump the shark and make some sort of Cheeseburger/Chicken Nugget sandwich combination? Get your shit together, Ronald. Carl's Jr. laughs at your yellow Coveralls.</i></div>
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<i>-Deer are assholes. They know what they did.</i></div>
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So yeah, I'd say I'm on the fast track to Pulitzer. Any deep thoughts of your own? Some amusing anecdotes you've found in a stream of consciousness? Or just want to call me an asshole? Feel free to share in the comments below or on Facebook. Promise not to steal all of them- just the good ones.</div>
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Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-710627362747421872013-12-11T15:16:00.000-08:002013-12-11T15:16:57.044-08:00Hump Day HaHa: The One Where is Andres is Super Stressed LOLWTF<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1534493288"></span><span id="goog_1534493289"></span> <span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Guy is fucking blown away by that pen, I'm guessing</span></i></div>
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Hey folks, how we doing? Well that's good to hear. I was wondering when that rash would start clearing up. Good for you. Anyway, here it is, another lovely Wednesday, another middle of the week where everyone is stressed and wondering what the fuck is going to happen next. Fun, right?<br />
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This week is particularly stressful for yours truly, having to deal with some major exams and prep for the next couple of weeks. Also, my blog has ads now. You know you want to buy that Chromecast thing or a sexy new credit card thingy. So fun!!! :-( Anyway, I'm taking a moment out of busy schedule to try and bring a smile to your sexy, asymmetric faces because that makes me smile. So, if someone shit in your Cheerios this morning, I hope they ate a lot of fiber first, and I'm help to try and brighten your day.<br />
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First off, we've got a great commercial from some Europeans. Nope, not another one about hairy women or "fish & chips," whatever the fuck that is. This one is simple, yet effective, as a man makes a proposition that the lovely young lass just can't seem to refuse:<br />
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Clever, clever. The second clip comes from the always awesome Mediocre Films, hot on the heals of Black Friday... what's that? Black Friday was almost three weeks ago? Well don't you just know everything. Jeez. Anyway, Greg of MF down there asked people to write up his Black Friday shopping list, asking legitimate workers dealing with harsh realities that is American Greed within their liberal rights of democratic capitalism as people kill each other for Xbox Ones for items that may or may not exist:<br />
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Good times. Anyways, hope this break helped a bit, maybe made you think I'm a jackass or something. Enjoy your day kids, and no worries, the weekend is just around the corner, so we'll be able to DROP THE BEAT in no time.<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-38045590925314199942013-12-09T10:32:00.000-08:002013-12-09T13:45:15.147-08:00Weird Ass Distractions: Candybox2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zmZh4y0Fb9M/UqVyS4UH2uI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qs3gZ0HXxTw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-12-09+at+2.12.21+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zmZh4y0Fb9M/UqVyS4UH2uI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qs3gZ0HXxTw/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-12-09+at+2.12.21+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Happy End of the Year, you beautiful, beautiful readers! All five of you, thanks for stopping in and make weird faces reading my bull here. Seriously, it means a lot to me to have someone reading all of this, especially during the final days of 2013, with final exams, deadlines, and that last bit of Meth to cook (I miss you, Heisenberg), everyone has got shit to do. This time of year is always quite stressful, rough, and drives some people to point of insanity. And I'm definitely no different; between school and all of my naked polka dancing lessons, I definitely have things I should be doing. <i>Should</i>. Keyword there. The problem is, I don't want. Or rather: I don't wannnnnaaaaaaa. <i>You can't make me</i>. It's always moments like this when I like to lace up my boots, stand tall, and find anything else in the world to distract me from my responsibilities. Because <i>America.</i><br />
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Thank the caramel-centered heavens, then, when that gorgeous bastard Paul, keeper of the <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/11/adventures-with-andres-soda-of-shaq.html" target="_blank">Shaqs that are Sodas</a>, stepped in and introduced to me a little website called candybox2.net. Upon the initial utterance of its name, I had no clue what the fuck to think. Candy box? Like a box of candy? He wouldn't explain, that lovely smelling son-of-a-bitch. He simply said "check that shit," then flew off. Okay, he didn't say that, but that's usually the only words I hear when people open their mouths. So I checked that shit, and I was introduced to this:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Closed all the porn tabs for you guys. You're welcome.</span></i></div>
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A blank screen. Thanks, asshole. But wait, what's this?<br />
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Whasat? What's goin' on? I have candy? Or rather, <i>candies</i>, and I can eat them? Well, hell yeah. I love candy, my sweet tooth is as big as your mom. I wanna do that.<br />
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So there. Candy eaten. And now I can throw that shit on the ground too, which seems weird, but okay. So what? Well as time goes on, you continue to collect candy every second, and you can eat more candy until suddenly, you can... well, create other shit. So weird. Suddenly:<br />
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I have a map, an inventory, and a fucking health bar. Where the hell is this going? No, fuck that paper due in two hours, I've got a HEALTH BAR. Tell my boss, who DOESN'T have a health bar to clean his own goddamn car in a bikini or whatever. Who needs money when I got a map? They were basically currency when people got bored of milking cows or getting the plague and decided to see the world. So, boom, map.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cue the Game of Thrones music.</span></div>
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Text-based Lord of the Rings, kids. Looks better and more interesting than the first Hobbit movie (yeah, I fucking went there). What's in those woods made of hashtags? And is that castle? HELL YES IT'S A CASTLE. Soooooo much to explore. And yes, I'm overly fascinated by this random website. No, I haven't taken my meds today, why do you ask? It's addictive.<br />
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After a while, with more and more candy comes more and more shit to click on, it gets to the point that you forget about drying the dog, or walking the laundry. Who needs that shit when you can buy weapons from a blacksmith made from symbols off a QWERTY keyboard?<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">ADVENTURE, MOTHAFUCKAS!!!</span></i></div>
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So check it out <a href="http://candybox2.net/" target="_blank">here</a>. Come on, you know you wanna. Put down that business report, walk away from that test. Who needs to know things like "physics" or earn things like "money?" Pft, please. Real life is for suckers and successful people, and you don't want to be that, do you? Do you? DO YOU? I mean, come on look at me, I'm doing it, and TOTALLY NOT ADDICTED.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Okay, maybe a slight addiction...</span></i></div>
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And now, here's a kid who can't say blood correctly.<br />
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Yeah, I need help.<br />
<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-11913860334126943312013-12-04T14:23:00.000-08:002013-12-04T14:23:55.021-08:00Hump Day Haha: 3 for 1 Black Friday (On a Wednesday) Blowout<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <a href="http://freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span><br />
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For this week's giggle, while you're busy working (or twerking) hard at your place of work and/or druge deal, I figured I'd give you not one, not two, not four, but three, THREE funny videos for the price of not-a-damn thing. I know, I'm a hero to you and your unborn, sickly-looking future children. Make him play a sport or at least feed him. He looks awful. Man, you're a bad parent.<br />
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First up is a fun little commercial from Footlocker, home to sports gear and bunch of asshole referees who lost their jobs and decided that the shirt works in other mysterious ways. It's a promotion for their "Week of Greatness," and the Tyson bit alone made me smile like a moron (or an idiot... hey! Like this blog's name!):<br />
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It's funny because he bit his ear off. Also: we hate Dennis Rodman. Next up is a clip that is just as close to my heart as body deformation: video games, or rather, video games that I suck at. It's called "Paperboy 3: The Hard Way," a tribute to the insane gaming franchise as well as an homage to Grindhouse B movies. This clip is from Silvermania, a couple of crazy guys who use some insanity mixed in with a bit of intelligence and a dash of confusing editing techniques. So let's shut our stupid mouths and watch:<br />
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I always wondered why that neighborhood was out to fucking kill the kids delivering the news. Finally, we have one of my favorite clips of one of my favorite people in the world, Louis CK. He's insanely funny and intelligent, but also has such a keen view on the world. We should be best friends. Here he is talking about... well, I'll let him tell you (warning: shit is NSFW, but so was the last one, probably):<br />
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Ah, good times. Anyway, hope these clips helped to brighten your day. And if they didn't, there's always drinking and laughing at short people trying to reach for things in high places. HAVE A GREAT DAY EVERYONE!!!!!!!! *waves at computer for some reason*Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-42848384056491418322013-12-03T15:13:00.002-08:002013-12-03T15:14:36.246-08:00The Taming of the Beard: A Letter to BeardnardWhelp, November is over, which means the whole "No Shave" movement is, as well. For those of you unaware of this strange ritual, No Shave November (also known as Noshember or Movember, which sounds like shit I would make up) essentially involves being super lazy, and just not shaving. It's supposed to raise awareness of men's health issues, such as prostate cancer, and that's great. There's all kinds of rules that you can follow, found <a href="http://www.noshember.com/pages/rules.php" target="_blank">here</a> if you want to read them (my laziness told me not to, though). I participated this year, though, I have to admit, it kinda felt like all those times I saw people "liking" some kind of cause on Facebook; it really didn't seem to do a damn, so eventually it just became an experiment in "How Mangled Can I Make my Face Look?" Needless to say, after 31 straight days, it was a success:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ladies...</span></i></div>
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Sexy, I know. The strange pubic hair that grew for so long had me looking like a homeless werewolf's crotch, and felt about as great as rubbing my face against a homeless werewolf's crotch. Alas, Moshovember or whatever it's called has come and gone, and with that, it is time to shave Beardnard (note: I called my beard Beardnard. Forgive me.) and let it all go. Before I did that, however, I decided to write him a letter and I thought I'd share it with you. Why are you looking at me like? Here it is:<br />
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(WARNING: GRATUITOUS FACIAL HAIR SHOTS AND MY MUG ABOUND. YOU'VE BEEN WARRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEDDDDDDDD)<br />
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December 1, 2013<br />
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My Dearest Beardnard:<br />
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For the last month, I have grown you and come to know you as my own. Since the beginning of November, when I lazily, as well possibly drunkenly, decided it would be the BEST idea to just not shave, you have developed and matured from a Brillo pad made of human hair to a hero and a friend. It was so interesting seeing you grow over time, covering my chin and most recognizable facial features until I would be hard to identify at the city morgue. You became a staple of me, a symbol of my inability to be a grown up and my revolt against certain grooming habits. You made me a new man, one that looks like an old man who's seen too much to describe his own personal Hell.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Looks like I should've bought a van that says "FREE CANDY" on the side</span></i></div>
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Oh, Beardnard, you were always there for me when I needed you. You never judged, never complained; you just twisted and scratched all around, forming a similar shape to the ass end of a Scottish Terrier. And we had some great times, as well, remember? Like that time I found out about adventured for <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/11/adventures-with-andres-soda-of-shaq.html" target="_blank">and drank Soda Shaq</a> (go read that one if you haven't, kids. Or not, jeez.)? You were right there for me, acting as a Flavor Saver as I lost my shit from the 72 grams of sugar I just guzzled.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ah, <a href="http://thesuaveidiot.blogspot.com/2013/11/adventures-with-andres-soda-of-shaq.html#more" target="_blank">memories</a></span></i></div>
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Alas, Beardnard, it has come time for us to part ways. For you see, you itch like a motherfucker, and the scratching and possible scars of any epidermis that was on my cheeks has made me lose my shit. Also, when we're together, people won't stop starring and wondering if I live in a cardboard box off La Brea Ave. I usually don't mind that, but when they started throwing things and said to get my shit together, I realized it was time for a change. <br />
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You will be missed, but not forgotten, as I shave you into a goatee in a recreation of Douche(ier) Dre circa 2006:<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Nattie Light and Fist Pumps Not Included</i></span></div>
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Followed by what I'm referring to from now on as "The Chin Toupée:"<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Looks like my chin has been to the Fucking Bosley Institute or something</i></span></div>
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I hope to make you a future subject of my PhotoShop exploits as I learn and become the best digital artist EVAR (more to come on that later). I want you to know, Beardnard, that I am thankful to have had you. I've never let this weird shrub on my face fully grow for more than week before this year, and when I finally let go, I had you to be there with me. We've had our fun, my friend, but now we must part, and go our separate ways just like other great duos, like Laurel and Hardy, Sonny and Cher, or Bert and his slightly retarded lover, Ernie. <br />
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Thank you for being everything I could hope a random beard could be. And with this last tangle of these HORRIBLE CLIPPERS FUCK YOU, CLIPPERS, we say our goodbyes. Good night, sweet prince.<br />
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Kisses,<br />
Andres<br />
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(P.S.: I think I may be pregnant with your secret beard love child. I will nourish him and take care of him just as I took care of you. Maybe I'll name him Bearnard, Jr. Ah, that sounds fucking stupid)<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-83651959137707785342013-11-26T14:23:00.000-08:002013-11-26T16:11:06.075-08:00Adventures with Andres: The Soda of Shaq (Part 1?)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Let the good times roll...</span></i></div>
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For those of you who've known me for some time, there has probably been at one or two times where you have seen me and my fascination for... well, things that seem to be a bit odd or out of place. For my slightly-off mind, at least, there are certain concepts and ideas that seem so random, so unique, and so completely absurd that I have to know about them or experience them, a sense of childlike glee and misunderstanding in my step. Things like the <a href="http://www.health.com/health/gallery/0,,20393387_11,00.html" target="_blank">Luther Burger</a>, with its strange combination of hamburger and Krispy Kreme donuts, or the movie <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwsqFR5bh6Q" target="_blank">Sharknado</a>, which is is exactly what it sounds like. I love random shit like that. It makes my day. Stop judging me, <i>jeez</i>. When these kind of things come around, I tend to have this reaction:<br />
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So it blew me away, one night, as I casually sat around around with roommate Paul when he mentions, quite possibly, one of the greatest combinations of two words ever: Shaq Soda. Shaq, as in Shaquille O'Neal, former rapper and star of classic movies such as Kazaam or Steel (I guess he played basketball, or something). And Soda. As in soda. Shaq Soda. SHAQ HAS A FUCKIN' SODA!!<br />
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The utterance of those words, possibly in combination with how dizzy I was from spinning in a chair for 12 minutes, suddenly changed my world. This was a thing? Why the fuck didn't I know about it? Who's responsible for telling me these kind of things? Is it because I've been hidden away in the Midwest that no one opened my eyes? How does this work? And that's when Paul, Keeper of the WTF, opened the website to Shaq Soda (!!!) for me and I saw this:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Expectations: CRUSHED</span></i></div>
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Wait. Wait wait wait WAIT A SECOND. It's not called Shaq Soda. No, my dear friends and beautiful readers, by Great Odin's Beard, it is clearly named Soda Shaq. The Soda... comes first. Suddenly, my mind raced with a thousand more questions after the first thousand had already filled it (so that hurt a bit). WHY IS THE NAME LIKE THAT?!?! Does that mean each individual soda is actually a Shaq? Do I walk into a store and say "Five Shaqs, please!" as I wink and toss a quarter on the counter? I must experience this for myself. Slamming his laptop shut and possibly choking him like an Indian Jones fight scene (I'm not sure, honestly- I black out from all the pure joy and wonder), I demanded from my roommate to know where they hide the Shaqs. And that is when Paul, that handsome son of a bitch, gave me the secret coordinates necessary to find this Treasure of Eden:<br />
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OF COURSE! A 7 Eleven! The Last place anyone would expect to look or even go inside of. Clever girl. Upon arriving, I found my first clue:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I like to think his face is actually like that on the bottom of his shoes...</span></i></div>
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Wait, does this mean the Big man, Shaq Diesel himself came here? Are these his ancient footprints left behind for me, the archaeologist of sodas, for me to find and demand they are PUT IN A MUSEUM? I apologize for all the caps, folks. I'm just so giddy. Finally, success:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jackpot</span></i></div>
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Oh glory be, look at the colors! The faces! Tiny Shaq body shots on the sides! Everything I could hope for and more. I grabbed two and threw my money at the cash register, sprinting as fast as I could to my car to delight in my finds at home. Sure, it was 2 in the morning and I needed to be up early tomorrow, but FUCK YOU, real life. Shaq Soda is a thing. Upon looking at my Shaqs, I noticed that each container contains about 3 servings, and each serving has 24 grams a sugar. Using my handmade abacus, I calculated that to be... *checks math twice again*... 72 grams of sugar. SO HEALTHY! Victory is mine:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Apparently, Soda Shaq also makes you grow a ridiculous beard.</span></i></div>
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The final taste analysis: watery, lacking taste, strangely poignant, and AWESOME. My body shivered in delight (delight?) as the sugar rush took me, making everything seem so bright and full of joy. Well done, Mr. O'Neal, well done. Another day, another strange adventure for something completely irrelevant or worth while. But wait, what's this?...</div>
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THEY HAVE NUMBERS! That means I must COLLECT THEM ALL... </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">TO BE CONTINUED (MAYBE?)...</span></div>
Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-75902118011507943412013-11-20T15:01:00.000-08:002013-11-20T15:06:05.778-08:00Hump Day HaHa: Jean Claude vs. Channing Tatum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today, we celebrate the one, the only, the extremely Belgian action star and poon hound Jean-Claude Van Damme, or JCVD as his friends (what? We're totally besties...) tend to call him. Known for his under-appreciated acting skills in timeless classics such as <i>Bloodsport</i>, <i>Streetfighter</i>, and the voice of Master Croc in <i>Kung Fu Panda 2</i>, probably the biggest thing Van Damme is known for- with the exception of his way with the ladies- is doing the splits. He does them everywhere: in houses, on boats, at the BET Awards, you name it. It's his Pulitzer. Or, maybe it wins hims a Pulitzer? I don't actually know how that works, honestly, but his splits- amazing. So, after 30 years of splitting anywhere and everywhere, he decides to pull this:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Warning: Stunt may make you a bit misty in... areas...</i></span></div>
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Awesome sauce. I've watched it for at least an hour, and it never gets dull. But wait... what's this? It appears we have a challenger? Oh sweet sauce of Sauron and Samuel Jackson, it can't be. While working on his new movie, 22 Jump Street (GET EXCITED, POWERS!), it's Mumbles McMillicuty himself, Channing Tatum:<br />
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And so, the gauntlet has been thrown. With years of training and preparation, not to mention countless hours of searching for the right trucks and/or food carts, its Battle of the Best. A Flexing of the Flexibility. An extreme Allowance of Alliteration. It's goin' down, son. Who ya got? Who wins? Who loses? Who gets the role of Colonel William F. Guile in the new <i>White House Down/Streetfigher </i>crossover movie? The choice, is yours... but probably not.Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-16798251327280117032013-11-13T12:40:00.004-08:002013-11-13T12:40:18.507-08:00Hump Day HaHa: The Tooth (Fairy)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <a href="http://freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span></div>
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Been a busy last week or two, what with all the school work and alleged illegal cock fights taking place the parking lot, and I'm feeling pretty drained. Luckily for me and the five people who may read all this, posting on here in attempts to show the world my writing skills or lack there of is a soothing break, so here we are.<br />
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This week's Hump Day HaHa (something I hope to do weekly) is a scathing reveal of the truth behind the tooth fairy and her savvy business ventures as she rids the world of tiny bits of calcium for the sake of a child's financial gain. Written and starring Matt Deanie and Josh Sharp, it gave me a bit of a chuckle, which probably means you'll hate it. Regardless, enjoy, and happy Wednesday, you sexy beast.<br />
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(YouTube is being a bitch, so here's a link. Hate me later for it.)<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrTSVJvU45E" target="_blank">The Truth about the Tooth (Fairy)</a>Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-35417237330864972632013-11-08T21:40:00.000-08:002013-11-08T21:42:01.570-08:00Prepare to be Mesmerized Watch the guy in the background. You know, the one getting his beard stroked:<br />
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I can't turn away...</div>
Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-19664270531483562202013-11-08T14:25:00.000-08:002013-11-08T14:25:11.253-08:00Funny Music Friday: ENOUGH WITH THE DAMN FOX<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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DON'T CLICK THAT VIDEO JUST YET!! Hold up just for one. Damn. Second. That video, in case you haven't figured it out, is the drug-induced furry orgy that comes with Ylvis' "What Does the Fox Say?" international hit. If you've heard the song before, and I'm sure most of you have, you know it's catchy flow and weird lyrics will stay in your head until the blood comes rushing from your nose. Hell, I'm hearing them right now, and all I can't think of his stabbing air holes in my skull until the noise escapes.<br />
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The song is, clearly, an international success, gaining nearly 200 million YouTube hits in just over two months while Ylvis has gone on to perform for the likes of Jimmy Fallon on Late Night. Its the new cultural phenomenon, the Euro-jokey successor to "Gangnam Style" (fuck, now that's in my head), and it even has its own Halloween Lights video portrayal, the highest standard of modern America's visual representation of "art:"<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">If he were alive, this would probably Salvador Dali's house</span></i></div>
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The problem, for me at least, is that I'm tired. So, so tired of learning about what the fucking fox says. It was fun the first 5 millions times I heard it online and in my nightmares, and it was fun when white girls in Ugg boots would prance around doing the dances at tailgates, Natty Light in hands. But no more. So here I come to try and fill your life with other funny, but catchy tunes available to the open public. WARNING: Video contains graphic but glorious violence, video game references, sweet and groovy music, and a ninja. I introduce to you "Best Friends Forever," by the ever awesomely-awesome Ninja Sex Party:</div>
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Awesome. Ninja Sex Party, the sexiest, jammiest rock band this side of the fucking equator is composed of Danny SexBang and Ninja Brian, have to save the day and possibly your mental health. And yes, that was a grown man in Pikachu costume, so how could you NOT love everything in this? They have more songs, and I may get to their cultural and sexual importance to the rest of the world, but, for now, allow this to wash away the taste of "Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow" from your luscious mouths. </div>
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You're welcome, America.</div>
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Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-75724857352066716582013-11-04T11:40:00.000-08:002013-11-08T11:19:17.046-08:00Commercials are Assholes: Part 1If you know me, you know I talk. A lot. Like, probably too much. Rambling on and on about nothing, filling up useful time with a waste of breath and words constantly going and going and going...<br />
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Wait, what was I saying? Oh, right. Anyway, if you don't know me, I tend to talk. A lot. And one of the biggest things always on my mind and in my mouth (shame on you, dirty minds) is how weird advertising and commercials are getting these days. Sure, some of them are quite funny and weird in their own ways, but others just have the strangest, most derivative messages that really do more harm than good. I just don't get it. Don't believe me? Well put down that sudoku puzzle, shut up, and pay attention to this Geico "When Pigs Fly" commercial:<br />
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Okay, I'm not even going to get into the whole anthropomorphic pig thing that Geico is doing here (I'm sure much better sites have analyzed that extensively). What really bothers me most is the way the characters treat each other within the small 30 seconds of air this horrible ad has.<br />
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Let's start with the condescending flight attendants and the way they treat the pig, who happens to be a passenger. I can totally relate to the fact that, when I'm on an airplane flying in coach as my new 300 lb. best friend sits on me as well as the seat next to me, I need to turn my phone off so every deity I pray to can clearly hear my begging for a safe landing. And its part of a flight attendant's job to remind us all that we need to turn off our electronics for the sake of the flight. But I'm not a big fan of the idea of two of these people walking up to me, big, shit-eating grins on their faces and talking down to me about turning off my "little word game." I'm pretty sure I'm an adult, or at least I look like one. So talking down to me is not a great way to show off customer service. A simple "sir, turn the phone off, please" will always do wonders. Hell, grabbing the phone out of my hand and tossing it while doing a Tarzan roar would be even better.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7kBS57E9fyE/Unfr8KB8r6I/AAAAAAAAADI/WU5cAgJEHhY/s1600/ID-100152184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7kBS57E9fyE/Unfr8KB8r6I/AAAAAAAAADI/WU5cAgJEHhY/s320/ID-100152184.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">FreeDigitalPhotos</span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Enough with the fucking mobile porn, sir!</span></i></div>
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And as the for the "little word game" comment. Oh, I get it, Geico. You've heard of Words with Friends, good for you. It's that game that all your friends and Grandma are playing! How very "in the now" you were with this commercial, good job. I'm surprised they didn't come at him about his "little birds who aren't happy game," though that might've been more racist towards him (I'll get to that later).<br />
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The flight attendants aren't the only ones who baffle me in this situation, though. The pig's reaction to them asking him to turn off his phone, an essential part of their job (though they still went about it horribly)? "Oh, it's actually my Geico app." Now, yes I know what you're thinking: this is a commercial, Dre! They have to advertise their product!! This is how they work!!1one!<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p6DVNroNi8s/Unf2NRctQ8I/AAAAAAAAADg/BWvzxUH1eN0/s1600/ID-100146043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p6DVNroNi8s/Unf2NRctQ8I/AAAAAAAAADg/BWvzxUH1eN0/s320/ID-100146043.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span><br />
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I get it. Still, this doesn't excuse the pig; turn off your phone, you talking bacon factory. His Geico app isn't so important that he can't turn it off and he doesn't need to explain what he's doing to the bitchy flight ladies who, again, are doing their job. His actions, however, try to prove otherwise. He didn't have to pay his Geico bill right as he was boarding a fucking plane. He could've just said "sorry, was paying some billz lol" and they could've continued from there. Instead, he justifies not following the rules because his Geico app is the tits, and therefore we in the world can find this as reason to not listen to the poor people who exhaust themselves getting people comfy and organized into a flying shell for the next five horrible hours. <br />
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Finally, the "when pigs fly" comment just blew me away. It's a pretty common phrase, right? People have been saying it since Isaac Newton threw one over London Tower to prove gravity or whatever, so we can relate it to our reality. What you need to understand, however, is that this is not our true reality. How so? Well, we don't have talking pigs, <i>that's for fucking sure</i>. Yet, in the Geico universe, it's apparent that walking, talking, thinking swine are pretty normal, or at least well-accepted. So in that sense... wouldn't the "pigs fly" comment be kinda racist, or, in the least, a bit of bigotry? It implies that it's not okay or standard for pigs to fly, and yet, here in front of this horrible flight attendant is a pig on a plane, and it hasn't freaked her out at all. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zbIbPA0Yf2I/Unf1eZHv8sI/AAAAAAAAADY/ex07SJHaq-U/s1600/ID-100126029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zbIbPA0Yf2I/Unf1eZHv8sI/AAAAAAAAADY/ex07SJHaq-U/s320/ID-100126029.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small; text-align: left;"> <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos</a></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Get down, you son of a bitch! That ain't right!</span></i></div>
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She's so casual about it, as is everyone else, until the pig finally turns to a black man, of all people, and simply says "can you believe she just said that?" No, <i>I can't fucking believe she just said that</i>, and I can't believe that you're not up in arms about this. Where the hell is the follow-up commercial, where the pig files a complaint against the airline about the racism he incurred while paying good money to be on one of their flights? While he tells them his horrible story on the local news channel, he could even break mid-story and tell them how his Geico app allows him to pay his bill anywhere and all the other bullshit he'd rather do than be doing what he's supposed to be doing right that moment. <br />
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So, what do I take away from this commercial? I see that talking down to people is alright as long as I smile at them. I understand that some things are more important, like randomly paying my bills that I can pay at other times over safely setting up a flight. And I see that bigotry and prejudice are pretty much accepted as long as funny phrases come around and "we can all relate to it." Thanks, Geico; now I know, and knowing is half the time that I pay my insurance bills with my super app that lets me do it wherever and whenever I want, even in a fucking tsunami while I'm the one operating the boat saving everyone else.Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-10877466594117284642013-10-31T00:31:00.000-07:002013-11-08T11:19:36.511-08:00Classic Halloween Crap: The Raven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-djvIlw795O8/UnIBoWsMDYI/AAAAAAAAACo/eaPLJt-vLjw/s1600/Cosplay_-_AWA15_-_Raven_(3982147756).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-djvIlw795O8/UnIBoWsMDYI/AAAAAAAAACo/eaPLJt-vLjw/s400/Cosplay_-_AWA15_-_Raven_(3982147756).jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Not what I meant, but I'm okay with it.</span></i></div>
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Ah, Halloween time. Scary shit and that one day of the year that you can be someone else and everyone won't find you completely crazy. Gotta love it, with all the ghouls and zombies and lovely lady costumes, not to mention all the candy and partying and lovely lady costumes. And don't forget the lovely lady costumes- those are great, too. <br />
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Sometimes, though, I feel like the modern world forgets about one of the classic aspects of the creepiest holiday (next to Arbor Day): scary or creepy ass horror stories. Some have blood and paranormal activity, hoping to make you go full evactuation in your Underoos at the mention machete-on-rib-cage action. Others, however, use subtle, skillful word usage and detailed, disturbing imagery to cause the slight chill that crawls up your spine, especially when narrated by the right voice. Enter my friend and super-talented/smart/large scary man Adam Joseph Lopez, who decided to go ahead and read the Edgar Allen Poe classic poem The Raven. It's pretty damn good, but it's even scarier when you realize he looks like this:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">He's also available for birthday parties and babysitting.</span></i></div>
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Turn down the lights, turn the volume up, and let the large, scary Mexican's man voice take you over. Enjoy, and Happy Halloween, mofos.</div>
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(For some reason, I can't seem to put video directly here, so follow the link)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6e6kUCnqVaE" target="_blank">The Raven By Edgar Allen Poe- Adam Lopez Reading</a></div>
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Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-26818189557036163762013-10-30T00:50:00.002-07:002013-11-08T11:19:49.902-08:00Hump Day Haha<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SuDRyHK26qA/UnC5oUDagrI/AAAAAAAAACY/bb8F1YVOQyU/s1600/072413_hump_day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SuDRyHK26qA/UnC5oUDagrI/AAAAAAAAACY/bb8F1YVOQyU/s400/072413_hump_day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">-via <a href="http://www.squirrelosophy.com/2013/07/24/hump-day/072413_hump_day/" target="_blank">Squirrelosophy</a></span></div>
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Welp, it's <i>Wednesday</i>. Middle of the work week, when Friday doesn't can't seem to get here sooner so we can wish Sunday didn't come even quicker just so we can face another Monday. Fun, right?<br />
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If you Hump Day has grabbed you by the neck and started poking at that little chubby spot on the lower part of your stomach, then I'm here to bring you (hopefully) the funny, in attempts to make it at least 1/93 better. Today I bring you The Card Crusher, a little gem from our neighbors across the Pacific featuring a man who knows exactly what Wednesdays are all about. Enjoy.</div>
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Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221034372594069436.post-59157625118518222532013-10-29T19:11:00.002-07:002013-10-29T19:14:27.004-07:00Welcome... I think? Probably<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IAiUGoxCWP8/UnBqonwpY3I/AAAAAAAAACI/9Lh1PwUUnjo/s1600/600_quotdont-be-afraid-to-be-a-fool-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IAiUGoxCWP8/UnBqonwpY3I/AAAAAAAAACI/9Lh1PwUUnjo/s1600/600_quotdont-be-afraid-to-be-a-fool-.jpg" /></a></div>
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Hello, and welcome to The Suave Idiot, your guide to...well, hmmm, that's a good question, actually. Honestly, I'm not quite sure yet. I honestly just wanted to write some more here and there, but have never had just one thing to talk about. Can't say I've figured out what I'm going to blog about here, but I will tell you this: it's all in the name of humor.<br />
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The world needs to laugh more. Everyday, we all spend so much time being so serious with life as we have to, going to our jobs and doing our paperworks and taxes or whatever, sometimes, we forget to chuckle a bit. I know I do, at least. So here I go trying to get a smile, a smirk, even a small "what an idiot" as you grin at something ridiculous. <br />
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As far as I see it, I have way too many interests into way too many random things, so a lot of this may be trial and error until I find something to focus on. I've had some fun ideas here and there, so we will see what works and what doesn't. Until then, if you're reading this, I want to thank you for stopping by and taking a moment to join me on my strange writing adventure. Now go read a beer, or drink a book, or something.<br />
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<br />Andres Domenechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373283121632910697noreply@blogger.com0