Every night I spend alone in my wood-paneled basement leads me to the same conclusion: I wish I could play a VCR Mystery Game with self-decapitating robots. Apparently, the purpose of this game is to save the Earth from robots, which kind of goes against Issac Assimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. But a game where you’re just ordering robots around wouldn’t be too fun, I guess. So instead, the game involves a robot ripping it’s own head off and coldly relaying that “you’ve made a mistake” before it, I assume, uses your intestines as a leash for its Robot Dog. Good, clean, terrifying fun for all. “Wanna come over? I’ve got this game where Robot Paul Reiser tears off its own head to prove a point. It’s for up to 4 players? No? Ok, maybe some other time! Just text me if you change your mind! I have no friends LOL.”
Let’s watch the commercial, as I imagine it in my mind. Thanks to Gary Hodges for passing this tape along!
“Within 5 minutes, you’ll be on one of 256 possible courses to save the galaxy.” It’s like the Butterfly Effect, if the fabric of time were limited to 80 minutes of SLP video!
Shown: If the first thing you notice is this 25th Anniversary Pac-Man/Galaga cabinet, welcome to my world.
As you’re no doubt aware, today is Pac-Man’s birthday. I’m more than a little overwhelmed. With my wedding anniversary tomorrow (I swear I didn’t plan it that way), I’m never sure where my loyalties should lie this time of year. You know around Christmas, when they interview that crazy woman who fills her trailer with a shit ton of Santa Claus stuff? Except she’s had it up all year, and she says something like “Everyday is Christmas at 432 Orchard Alley Lane!” and you feel sick and sad for her? Well, that’s me. But for Pac-Man. My house is a little like wandering into Leatherface’s house, except instead of chicken bones hanging from the ceiling, it’s just Pac-Man stuff. Pac-Man is such a part of the backdrop in my house, that I forget how much I’ve actually accumulated from friends, family, eBay, flea markets and fans. Once you’re a known collector of something, it makes it easy for everyone to buy for you on holidays, which is nice. I’ve already covered some of my most coveted possessions in this NOT SAFE FOR WORK post from Joystick Division, but I took a stroll around my house and just took pictures of stuff I could actually see in front of me. Something I promised to do months ago. If I actually start digging, there’s hundreds more items strewn about…this is only scratching the surface.
So why Pac-Man?
Pac-Man is pure. Pac-Man is Pizza Hut breadsticks and a borrowed quarter from mom. Pac-Man is universal. Pac-Man is challenging and addictive 30 years later. Pac-Man is a warm yellow memory. Ok, scratch that last one. That didn’t sound right.
It’s the ghosts and blood, dust and mud, and the roar of an arcade crowd.
I made this Pac-Man beer cooler for my Pac-Man themed going away party in New York. I used my crappy cell phone video camera to capture this little magic event.
INSERT COIN AND CLICK THROUGH FOR MORE PAC-MAN CRAP THAN YOU CAN HANDLE
Shown: a rare Ms. Pac-Man addition to my collection, stolen from a Indianapolis Head Shop wall. Check out the ticket price, $12! This was before Feed The Animals changed the world.
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…
[note: As Chris grew up in and lives in Illinois, much was kept from him about Hanukkah. And by "much," we mean "everything." Though he now has many Jewish friends, they never stopped to explain anything to him, even when he thought Baklava was a traditional Hebrew dessert.We now present you with his entire 6th Grade report on Hanukkah.]
Today marks the beginning of a 33 day tea ceremony the Japanese call “Hanukkah.” The Japanese are let out of school at 1AM, a full two hours early, and don traditional “giant banana hats” for the night’s activities.
Shown: The Jew in his Banana Hat.
This is the extent of human knowledge about this mysterious holiday and its people, though footage is rumored to exist (below). Some even say Jews live among us today. Thank You.
For the curious, I received an A on that report. Everyone else in class being from Illinois, they took me at my word. Looking back, it seems silly to think of a time when Christmas dominated the Midwest, before our Jewish friends invaded every Wal-Mart and Dollar General with their crassly commercialized “hot toys of the year.” Happy Hanukkah, Midwestern Illinois!
Shown: Impossible to find toy of the year 2009 and Toys R’ Us 4AM crowd who will soon be turned away.
If we were at a Texas Roadhouse Chain Eatery right now, you would hear the faint sound of forced employee clapping make its way from the kitchen right to our table, followed by a cowboy hat and saddle for this website to sit upon and pose for pictures. And then a 17 year old kid with a looming Ford Mustang payment would say “Hey pawdners, today marks this website’s 100th post!” and they would woop and holler and everyone would try very hard not to look up from their Chicken Ding Dillers and Texas Tonyun Boomin’ Possum Blossoms. And what a good time we’ve all had in the process. Thanks for stopping by. And now, as always, I hope your Monday sucks! PSHHHTTT!!!
This is what we got from my wife’s aunt one year for Christmas. It’s lingerie. For a Christmas tree. They say it’s the thought that counts, and her thoughts turned to buying us naughty, mini-undies to hang on our Christmas tree.
Ahem.
So I guess these are official Hallmark keepsakes for the family that likes to put the “Sex” back in Chrisexmas. [Sad trombone!]
On the plus side, her aunt got me my all time favorite ornament, the Pac-Man Arcade Keepsake, the next year…which Cobra Commander enjoys playing in his Hallmark Keepsake Boxers from the previous year.
“High SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSScore!”
Hey!Now here’s a holiday tradition you won’t want to miss: pictures with Santa Claus. And how could you miss it, with all those hours he’ll be appearing? Oh, what’s that, little boy? You’re here to see “African-American Santa” instead? Well Black Santa’s appearing one day only, for two hours.And I hear he’s not even really African-American…I hear he’s African-CANADIAN! [Sad Trombo-ho-ho-hone!]
Also please address Santa as “Santa”—or Regular Santa—and not Caucasian Santa. And make sure that when you lie to your kids about Santa, you’re also lying about the correct race of the Santa. If your white kid thinks a Black Santa screwed him out of a present, you’re just just stirring up racial resentment at an early age. Best to tell your white kids that Santa is white, and black kids that Santa is black. It’s easier that way. Separate, but equal Santas, you know?
“But what about Chinese Santa?”
Don’t be goddamned ridiculous kid. There is no Chinese Santa. Just pick a line—Black Santa or White Santa. But, between you and me, it’s best to pick White Santa (he’s here more often).
Still, on the positive side, no waiting line for Black Santa! Why? Because there’s a bearded black man yelling “HO! HO! HO!” in the center of the mall and a white lady freaked out and called security. Once they get all that ironed out, I’m sure you can sit on his lap.
Isn’t holiday diversity a wonderful thing?
…And after a hard day of deciding what race the Santa you worship is, why not bring the family in for a warm Pooboy Sandwich? Mmm, Mmm! Just like momma used to pinch right into a hot oven. Nothing says Christmas like a moist, juicy, steaming Pooboy Sandwich. [Poo Trombone!!!]
Check out this holiday special from the Best Buy Geek Squad! For only $19.99, the Geek Squad will drive to your house in their awful car and install the latest firmware updates to your PS3! Hey, that’s terrific. Because when the PS3 tells me “Latest Firmware Update Required” (roughly every fucking time I turn on the PS3), it’s too much trouble for me to hit the “X” button to Accept. I love how helpful the Geek Squad is. Like how they’re willing to sell me a $200 Monster HDMI cable, or “set-up” the picture on my Plasma TV by adjusting the contrast and brightness, or push the “power button” on my remote with their able thumbs. I am useless without them! Here, just take all my money! I’m a complete moron! Of course, the price of this highly necessary service varies from place to place. $20 is a steal! [HI-DEF TROMBONNNNE!]
…Why hey, it looks like Slate.com is running a related story on Best Buy scams. This one’s about the Geek Squad “optimizing” your new Mac (read: turning the power button on). That I can agree with but…hey, Slate, I hate Jon and Kate as much as the next American who built up their celebrity status in the first place. But maybe tell your underpaid web-designer to ease up on the violent imagery in his subliminal banner scroll. Merry Christmas! BLAM! [Sad Trombone Plus 8!]
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!]
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!
Not sure if you watched Headline News this morning, but they’ve put all the trees in a tree museum, and are charging the people a dollar and a half to see ‘em. I don’t know about you, but in this economy that’s a hell of a bargain! Finally, something cheap to do, you know? And here’s some more depressing things to kick off your week. Hope your Monday sucks! FEH!
Love of House (Not the Hugh Laurie fan-fiction site)
You know today’s November 16th, right? And you haven’t bought anything for your kids for Christmas yet? Well, better luck next year because “Love Of House” is all that’s left on the shelves. Ironically, “Love of House” was deemed too grammar impaired for even Toys R’ Us to carry. At any rate, have fun explaining to your kids that “Mini Lordliness” is really what they wanted, not a PlayStation 3. This all reminds me of that Bootleg B-52’s song “Love Of House Shack” that this toy set inspired
Shown: Asian Fred Schneider sings the hits. He added, “The Love of House is a Mini old place where Lordliness am getting together. Love of House, baby, yeah.” [saaaad trom-booonnnneee!]
This stern warning accompanies a thrift store window we used to frequent (we frequented the window, not the store).
“Ok,” we “will” put “all” our “clothes” on “hangers!” Jesus “Christ” don’t have a “shit fit” about it and “scare off” your “fucking” customers! NO EXCEPTIONS! [sad "trombone"!]
Did I ever tell you about the time I sprinkled 8 bags of cocaine on a personal pan pizza and ate it in under 10 seconds? Wouldn’t you know, THIS is the first and last thing I remember seeing? A cross between Super Mario and that kid from The Grudge? [pants-pissing trombone!]
I pulled over from the highway just to take this picture. I hope you’re happy. If Subway restaurants hadn’t been ruined for you before with their slimy, lukewarm deli meat, disgustingly kemp countertops and prep areas and irritating jingles…consider this your wake up call. I’m a Quiznos man now. [sad trombone!]
