Welcome to part 2 of World of Ward Crap’s 13 WEEK series on filming junior dance competitions. Read about last week’s travesty adventure HERE.
Having survived a trip to the heart of Amish darkness last week, Bryan and I once again mounted our mini-van and headed to another dance competition in Nashville, TN—this one was at the Grand Ole Opry (or “The Grand AOL Opry” as my text messaging spell check kept insisting, giving me a possible glimpse into the not-so-distant future). To catch you up to speed, here’s what I’m involved in:
Terrifying, right? It’s weird how things work out. I first met Dan Raleigh (aka, Fred Price) when I worked for Wizard Magazine…my friend Junkstore Jesse Thompson and I picked his hilarious video Supercycle USSR as Wizard’s “Direct to Video” contest winner. We flew him out to Chicago to collect his prize, and Dan and I immediately learned we shared the same love for things like the Beastmaster and stuffing large plants into hotel elevators. Now, years later, he’s kind of my boss. Check out his winning Wizard video. I should mention that Josh Powers (seen below) is also my boss, which is AWESOME. Do you have a cooler boss than this? I don’t know, has your boss ever stolen a Russian super bike? There’s something else familiar about these two videos…listen closely.
Yep, after you hear the narrator from Supercycle, it’s hard to take the dance commercial seriously ever again. Hooray, Easter Eggs!
Now, on to Nashville…..Click through to hear about the Dukes of Hazzard museum bathroom incident, which country music stars are dicks, and why Tupac and milk go together so well…
In anticipation of my upcoming animation column, “Celling Out,” at UGO.com, I present this classic Worst Cartoons Ever post. Also, it’s late and I work in the morning.
If there were a way to replay the noise Super President’s doughy sidekick makes right before Steel Man punches him in the face, over and over on an endless loop, I think I would be the happiest person alive. It’s kind of like “HOO GEET!” or “HOON GLEEK!” I’m sure his voice directions were great:
Director: Ok Jerry, in this scene, Steel Man—who is clearly not a man by any stretch—walks into the “impenetrable base.” He does this by walking through the open door. Then, he punches you in the jaw, not killing you instantly. You need to make a noise that captures this.
Voice Actor: How about, Hoon Geet?
Director: Hmm…”Hoon Geet.” I like it, but maybe give me something in a “Hool Jeet.” Oh, hell, you’re the actor: Hoon Geet it is.
Voice Actor: Then what should I say?
Director: Oh nothing. Then we have this scene where the unstoppable Steel Man—who could snap a man like a Baked Lays with his bare hands and is immune to bullets—well, he’s gonna get scared off by a dinging bell, after going to all the trouble of breaking into the place.
I would like to add, upon watching this again, that though NO SECURITY SYSTEM ON EARTH is a match for this robot, Super President sends his powerless sidekick “Jerry” into the fray and is all, “Ehh, call me if you see the killer robot. And remember, he’s got super powers.” Jerry’s just staring at his walkie talkie and pissing his pants.
By the way, if you think the phrase “You were wrong, Sales,” is just bad grammar on the robot’s part, you probably need to watch this post first.
The late night wars are hard for even a lot of Americans to understand. Though, in fairness, most Americans haven’t learned that Ed Hardy pants look ridiculous, and Lady Gaga is an elborate hoax by a Japanese game show. So I can’t fault the Chinese for resorting to turning Conan into the Hulk, Leno into Superman, and Jeff Zucker into…I’m not sure Captain Bald or something….just to explain it. You can see the not-as-funny English version HERE, where you’ll hear that…yes…even the “didn’t get the memo” cliche has made its way into Chinese news, taking its spot alongside those hilarious “human rights violations” cliches. This clip is courtesy of America’s foremost animation expert, Jerry Beck, from his awesome Cartoon Brew website:
And speaking of crappy animation, I guess it’s a good time to announce that I’ve been pegged as the new Animation Guy over at UGO.com! Thanks to my time over at Worst Cartoons Ever, I’ll have a weekly column discussing everything cartoon related. I think the column is tentatively called “Celling Out,” which is a pun on animation cels and the lengths I’ll go to in order to make a buck (Sean T. Collins originally penned this one, I believe. I put out a call-out for catchy names amongst friends. UGO didn’t go for my suggestion…”Acme Sweatshop”…or my friend Ryan’s suggestion, “Cock Garage.” But I’m still holding out hope for “Cock Garage.”)
Also, you’ll probably see classic Chris Ward edits like this as I go:
Translation: Hands off the Masturbating Bear, scum!
In the coming weeks, days and years, I will begin archiving my Pac-Man collection on this website: listing each item I own and writing about it. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, in case someone tries to burn it all and collect the money (I suspect Pinky). Of the numbered items in this bedroom, I own #1 (two of them), #6, #7, #8, #9, #10 and #13. I have no idea where to get a Pac-Man nightgown, though I’ve been known to wear girl’s nightgowns.
Look at that crap. At one time, I could have owned all this for under $300, including a Pac-Man jumpsuit. Oh, hurry Christmas…Hurry FAST!
This is also a call to arms. The First Church of Pac-Man hasn’t been updated since 2004: I’m declaring my site the new church of Pac-Man, and I need your help coming up with a name for my church. This is a reformation. Getting back to the roots of fundamentalist Pac-Man.
Billy Mitchell, the Pac-Man Champion, is a world-class douche. Together, we’ll cast him out of the Pac-Man community.
Is you is, or is you ain’t my constit’ency?
Stay tuned for the first entry in the near future …
Today is “Cyber Monday,” hot on the heels of “Black Friday” and a prelude to “Lime Green Dell Laptop Buyer’s Remorse Wednesday” and “Take Another Man’s Life to Get Your Hands on a Hamster Toy Piece of Shit Thursday.”
Like you, I avoided the “Big Box” stores altogether last week (I get all my Christmas gifts from Debbie’s heavily trafficked Build Your Toys From Trash website anyway) and hit a few of my own secret spots. Close your eyes and try to imagine opening these gifts on Christmas morning, and then divide that feeling by the number of Kleenex you’ll need to wipe away your tears, and you’ll have a formula for a Celexa-popping Xmas morning, Charlie Brown. As always, hope your Monday SUCKS! BLEAH!
This was sent to me by my friend Kim last year, but I just now got the courage to open an email called “Bag O’ Baby.” This actually brings back funny memories. Last year, I asked my wife for a Bag O’ Baby for Christmas, and imagine the look on her face when she showed up with a Glad Lock bag full of dismembered infant parts and I had to explain that I meant romper cotton onesies! I showed her this picture, and we all had a good laugh (well, except for the baby) and then sold the still-wriggling, pungent remains to The Beatles. But for some reason, this album didn’t make the Beatles Box Set. [SAD RINGO TROMBONE!]
Shown: “HA HA HA HA HA! Everything we do is genius!”
I don’t care if it’s marked down to $2.99…I will not open a box marked “Puppy Surprise.” Not after the Finger Pupies incident, anyway. [SAD TROMBONE!]
2008 Mattel Executive: “Ok, everyone…we’ve just produced 500,000 of, what I believe, will be the hot girl’s toy this year. The IM-ME! It updates the concept of “passing notes” for a new, tech-savvy generation of girls! You see, girls want two things: 1.) Things that are pink. It’s pretty much the only color girls like. 2.)High-tech gossip gizmos. The “IM-Me” takes the chat room…to the CLASS ROOM! Judy, write that down. “From the chat room…to the class room!” just like that, with the dots and the exclamation point. Of course, this may be hard to hide in the classroom, cause it’s big. Also, it beeps loudly. I’ve invested all my money–and I mean all my money–in this thing, I believe in it so strongly. You’re all getting bonuses!”
2009 Mattel Executive: [on phone] “How’s the IM-Me selling? What’s that? Cell phones, you say? Excuse me for one second.” [hangs jacket on chair, leaps out of 3rd story window. Only breaks legs. Dies, quite avoidably, from pulmonary embolism, as a result of DVT Blood Clot, when nurse simply forgets to administer routine Lovenox shot upon his release from hospital. Guilt-ridden nurse kills self.]
There. I hope you’re thoroughly depressed. If not, here’s the actual product description from the website:
It sounds 2good2btru – but it’s 4real! Girls, you no longer have to wait for your turn on the computer, because with IM-Me™ you can stay connected with family and friends from anywhere in the house! IM-Me™ for kids is private, convenient, portable and safe.
Even cooler, you can build your own community of
IM-Me™ friends. Once you’ve exchanged user names,
you’ll be able to instant message your buddies anytime, anywhere. What r u waiting 4? Start IMing now!
Now are you depressed? Good. I’m glad. [SAAAADDDD TROM-BONNNNE!]
The mouse you’re using right now may have more germs than a White Castle toilet seat French Fry. Actually, knowing you, it definitely has more. That’s why I can’t figure out why this mouse wasn’t a big hit. Was it because there’s an entire segment of the population who would NOT LIKE TO HOLD A COMPUTER MOUSE DIRECTLY UNDER A RUNNING FAUCET? Apologies to Howie Mandel, who owns 6. [WACKY SAD TROMBONE!]
Shown: Get it? He hates germs!
Let’s say you’re looking for ideas for your son’s Christmas gift. Your son is 15, and doesn’t really talk to you much anymore. He’s going through that “surfing the net in a locked basement” phase of development. You know how kids are. Well, if he won’t talk to you, there’s nothing wrong with checking out his web history to see what he’s been into these days. Hmm, it seems from 8PM until 3AM every night, he’s “curious” about “farm animals”! Thank god, because there is a Curiosity Kit to help him explore these curiosities! You’re a good mother. Your son is going to love this. [SAD TROMBONE!]
…Oh, and your son is also going to love this Christmas card with his Farm Animal Curiosity Fulfillment Kit. I guess what I mean to say is, even if you run a small time greeting card company, and your budget is lacking in this economy, do find an artist who has enough sense of field and depth of vision to avoid painting scenes where North American Brown Bears appear to discreetly fuck White Tail in front of the baby Jesus. I mean, come on…it’s Christmas. [SAD TROMBONE!]
My best buddy Joe and his wonderful wife Izumi live in Japan, and just had a cutie patootie baby boy who is about to inherit a whole bunch of comic books and Star Wars toys from his father. But to their infinite dismay, the number one diaper brand in Japan is this:
Hey! It’s “Goon” diapers, for your stupid Goon Baby. Just look at those ugly goon bastards, crawling around in their own Goon stew. Choose either small “Green” size for goonie-faced newborns or the Red “Danger! Danger!” size for fatty Goon babies who split their own diaper because they’re so goondamned fat.
Sure, you could buy the “Gimp” Brand diapers at the dollar store, but they’re not biodegradable and they come pre-shit in (as we’ve come to expect from the “Everything’s A Yen” store).
How about some truth in advertising, Japan? When you buy Goon Diapers, you’re really buying this, now aren’t you?…
Shown: the true face of Goon Brand diapers
And guess what else? Only Goon diapers have the power to give a newborn baby a mind-shattering orgasm right there on the hardwood floor. Oh, is that comment over the line? Ok, fine. Then you tell me what the hell is going on at the end of this commercial. Because I’ve watched it about 50 times, and I still don’t know why unleashing a meteor shower of Vitamin E pellets on a kid’s ass causes it to succumb to the throes of mad passion.
That’s pretty uncomfortable. Waaaaaaay more so than a baby riding around in a Michelin tire on the highway, or being dangled over a balcony. Still, maybe none of this is as disturbing as the ass wiping cartoon frog we have here in America. This round to you, Dumpster Baby Goons!
As if it wasn’t depressing enough that Christmas is coming, and the year’s hottest toys have all been bought up by Richard Gere, here’s a quick look at some more uber-depressing crap to get you through Thanksgiving! Hope your Monday sucks! BLEAHHH!
It sucks when your name is “Max Paternoster” and your favorite yellow slicker is accidentally thrown in a garbage bag headed for the Salvation Army, but even worse when they make you repeat “3st Grade.” Aww, I’ll never get to 8nd Grade at this point! [Sad Trombone!]
The Eye of Sauron’s Girlfriend? Andre the Giant’s Fleshlight? No, it’s supposed to be a Hello Kitty hamper…for kids. Fun fact: did you know that while pornography is legal in Japan, the depiction of pubic hair is not? Has nothing to do with this hamper. I’m just saying. [Sad Trombone!]
It’s a Hello Kitty two-fer! It’s bad enough that a Japanese kid’s icon such as Hello Kitty has been used to market some questionable items in the past, but this time they put her in a bikini. And even that would be fine….if they didn’t out a heart on her chest right where a nipple would be. Still, looks better than Tara Reid’s nipple slip. [Sad Trombone!]
I took this screenshot from YouTube, because I was fascinated how many people wanted to know the answer to the question “Vampires: Is it Real?” These are the same people who want to know “Werewolves: Do They Happening?” and “Twilight Cash-Ins: Is It Ever Stop?” [Sad Trombones! Is it For Realz?]
It’s the moment nearly 20 of you have been waiting for…the winner to last Thursday’s first World of Ward Crap contest! The contest was easy, all you had to do was look at this honest-to-god cigarette lighter and tell me “Who is This For?” and you could win the box of crap I’m about to show you.
Your responses ranged from “hilarious” to “spam comment blocked,” and I thank everyone for participating. First, the Honorable Mentions!
Padre Hodges and Zoss were unfortunately disqualified because, while hilarious, the three of us have seen and done unspeakable things with shovels in the desert that have both bonded us for life and voided us from winning each other’s contests:
Padre Hodges said, and I can’t disagree with him:
Registered sex offenders who need a light?
Zoss had a very funny, very inventive twist on They Live:
It’s for Rowdy Roddy Piper. To us, it looks like a trashy novelty lighter, but it’s actually an incredibly sophisticated device that reveals a terrible secret. When Rowdy Roddy lights someone’s cigarette with it, he can tell if the smoker is actually a frog person disguised as a human. Marry and reproduce!
God I wish that were true, to justify the $0.69 I spent on it.
That’s probably more accurate than we know. Each one of these comments “tickled me” (as the kids say) in their own way…Jeff Sparkman’s blunt “it’s for mouthbreathing fuckshoes,” Denim’s conspiracy theory to confuse future generations how babies are born, NathanW’s feel-good White Trash Epic, Larry Joe’s very depressing tale of aging Midwestern woe, Ashley’s hipster potshot (zing! a pun!)
I had to narrow it down to my three favorites. Goof’s “your mom!” was a solid, classic use of the world’s best put-down, Jason Kinze’s way-too-true “for an 11 year old boy taking up arson as a hobby that hasn’t discovered internet porn yet.” and the WINNER…
POTATOJOE!
Who said…
A confused 78 year old man who thinks it’s an iphone
For the life of me, I can’t think of anything funnier than a man confusing a 69 cent pornographic lighter for the world’s most advanced phone. Great work, potatojoe. Very funny stuff.
“Hello? Grandson? I don’t know how to tell you this, because you’re so young. But…it’s cancer. It’s real bad. Tell your mother..OH GALWDDAMMIT! I HAVE BEEN TALKING INTO THAT KISSING LIGHTER AGAIN!!!”
And here are all the wonderful things Potatojoe wins that you won’t believe! Well, believe it…dreams can come true!
If you look closely enough at anything, you can find the sadness. You can hear the persistent drums of depression, drowning out an otherwise happy pan-flute solo. I’m here to provide that terrible feeling for you, with a series of otherwise harmless things that end up making me feel sad inside. Hope your Monday sucks! NYAH!
Hey! It’s “Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist!” Michael J. Fox’s heartwarming and brave account of his day-to-day struggle with Parkinson’s, and one of the most inspiring testaments to the human spirit on record. Just finding the strength and courage to write this book must have taken so much out of him…
…and now you can own it for the clearance, “gotta get rid of it” price of $5.95. Glenn Beck’s “Arguing With Idiots” remains on the New York Times Best Seller list. [sad trombone!]
Oh Cool! Brokeback Mountain is finally on Blu-Ray! And enough time has passed that we can move past the easy Brokeback Mountain “gay cowboy” jokes that overshadowed it originally, and finally see the movie for what it is: a complex, moving and heartbreaking tale of love and sacrifice…
“…heh, heh. Hey Bobby, check this out. ‘Exclusive Interactive Features.’ Heh. On the Brokeback Mountain Blu-Ray! Haw haw! Whadda you think THOSE are, huh? Jest how interactive are we talking here, HUH? HAW HAW HAW! Let’s go watch Transformers.” [sad trombone!]
Yeah, take THAT Atkins Diet! What’s that? Atkins IS dead? He smashed his head on a icy sidewalk, went into a coma, spent 9 days in the hospital and then died despite the constant prayers of his loved ones? Dude, that’s terrible!
Man, I feel sorry for the people that published this book. They couldn’t have known that, when they were planning the book, a terrible accident would suddenly befall Atki…wait, what’s that? This book was published LESS THAN A YEAR AFTER he died? Now THAT’S a recipe for an eternity in hell! [sad trombone!]
Dad: “I bought you a Smurfs doll, oh favorite daughter of mine!”
Kid: “Yay! I love the Smurfs more than anything!”
Dad: “It comes with a 50th Anniversary GOLD Smurf”
Kid: [throws up all over herself] “OH GOD! OH JESUS, DAD! NO, TAKE IT AWAY!!!”
Dad: What? What’s wrong?
Kid: Don’t you know ANYTHING about the Smurfs backstory, you idiot!? Oh God!! That’s why Gargamel wanted to catch the Smurfs! TO TURN THEM INTO GOLD! That poor Smurf! I can’t unsee it! It haunts my every childhood thought! [throws up blood]
Dad: I’m sorry!!! I’m so sorry!!! GAHHH!!!!! [throws himself out tenth story window, impales self on sad trombone below!]
Cat Toy! It’s for a Cat! Cat Toys for Cats! How fucking novel! [sad trombone!]
There are lots of embarrassing pictures of me all over the internet. It just kind of happened….It just kind of happened as soon as I scanned them in, and put them everywhere online. My brother is the exact opposite of me in many respects: he’s well-respected for things like “business” and “trying to be a good person.” I have failed—FAILED, I say—on both counts. So since it’s my brother’s birthday today, I’ll bring him down to my level: here’s there embarrassing pictures of him. Actually, two are kind of awesome. Ok, and they’re not that embarrassing. I couldn’t do that to the guy. I might need a character witness in court someday. Can’t burn that bridge. Happy birthday, man.
Sig Heil Splinter!Wasserchildkroten aufgeZOGEN und SLAUGHTERED in DER TECHNODROME!
One of the best cakes of all time. Look at that thing. Mom had a Super Mario cake mold and I really wish we still had it. This is before it was cool to make “geek cakes.” The only thing is, my mom used to put all these cakes on top of that cardboard-covered-in-foil thing, and I would cut a piece and bite down hard on foil EVERY TIME. I believe this cake is the first time that happened. To this day, I look at the bottom of my cake pieces before I eat them (not kidding).
My aunt had these nightgowns that we insisted on wearing at sleepovers because they had cartoons on them. I found out years later that A). Boys should not wear Snoopy and Smurfette nightgowns and B.) My aunt isn’t a fan of little boys. She likes little nieces and was never big on little nephews. So she was more than happy to let us saunter around in these (This is EXACTLY the backstory to Sleepaway Camp, by the way). By the time I had figured this out, the damage was done: I was a full-blown transsexual with a Brainy Smurf fetish. My brother developed a phobia of sitting on top of giant strawberries. Thanks alot!
Now that he’s thoroughly shamed, please visit my brother’s website at least, and get yourself a big mouthful of Foil Super Mario cake: www.bluefuego.com
