I dragged James to an A Life Once Lost show, he lost his shit. And he doesn’t like metal. <3 those dudes. Doug is the nicest fucking ripping guitar player of all time. Also: i’ve been drinking gin at lunch…
In like 10 years this is going to be a children’s show. There will be entire episodes of renditions of Chocolate Rain and The Sneezing Panda.
Anyway, let’s kick it old school for a bit today dear reader, while I fill out a grad school application without nearly enough time to do a good job, thereby dashing my hopes of a successful future like the wine bottle that fell of my shelf last night and exploded on the floor.
First up, The David Lynch Goofy Movie. This video is so dead on it makes me want to watch the Goofy Movie again. Yeah that’s right, I’ve seen it. No you’re weird! YOU ARE!
Second up (which I had never seen before) is the Doc’s kid is a fucking perv in BTTF3. Which looks like an abbreviation for a movie called Buttfuck 3, which Paul has probably seen. Paul? Anyway, this starts off pretty innocuous and then takes a powerslide into awful when they do the slo-mo close up. God help me, it’s never going to leave me alone.
Also, this is the greatest thing YouTube has ever done for us:
Reducing humor to the juxtaposition of two elements.
Buches de Noel = Yule Log
You can order these beauts FOR PICK UP ONLY ON XMAS EVE. They sold 5000 of these fuckers last year. They are ONLY available on xmas eve. Fucking French people…. always making shit difficult. Get out your fucking check books.
Enjoy the Para-golfer. this is not a joke.
ROBOTS
ROBOTS
ROBOTS
Someone realized by watching the shakeweight commercials that dick innuendo is the best way to sell products. They were totally right.
To begin SOTI’s inaugural Christmas post:
Ok, so to begin with chiptune/chip-hop/anyone who still uses 8-bit anything probably has too much time on their hands….now that being said: NO ONE HELP THESE PEOPLE FIND ANOTHER HOBBY. Their presence on the internet is one of the internet curiosities I have the most love for. The rush of nostalgia, the complexity derived from such a simple thing and also THE FACT THAT IT MAKES ANYTHING SOUND LIKE THE MOST EPIC SNES GAME EVER.
I dare you to listen to Carol of the Bells and not see yourself flying in a jet while the final boss of the game transforms into a giant multi-armed insect/crab/tank/alien thing which blows you away with both TRACKING AND NON-TRACKING LASER BALLS! You know the feeling, it’s like the designers were like “oh let’s just spam the screen with reflections of your own futile existence.” Anyway after a misspent youth and a thumb callous that a dermatologist would mistake for a tumor, you beat the game. And you are treated to none other than Auld Lang Syne. As the credits roll and your character’s picture exchanges poorly translated dialogue with some other characters picture, a single tear rolls down your face. Not because you didn’t realize this game had a plot, or because you’ve finally beaten it, or even because now you have to move on with your life. But because those poorly modulated sounds, so primitively constructed and synthesized, are tugging on your heartstrings like nothing else ever has. Which is sad, cause you have a mom, and she really cares about you.
Give her a call dear reader.
PART 2:
I don’t even know what to say about this one.
No words. Should have sent a poet. PEEP THE HANDS.
Holy
FUcKing
ShIT
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