Every now and again, the federal government requires us to devote some site space to public service matters. In compliance, we present the following:
TO CONCERNED CITIZENS
RE: SOCIAL PROBLEM
Many citizens have the following problem: They really love the Looney Tunes cartoon characters, but feel that they are too intelligent, too sophisticated, and speak in voices that are not sufficiently childlike.
If you have this problem, there is a solution. A show exists called "Baby Looney Tunes" which you can watch every morning while your roommate showers.
This should solve the problem of Looney Tunes not being infantile enough.
Have to disagree with the
Old Fellow on his description of the Carrie-Ann Moss photo. To us, she rather looks like a tarted up harlot, strutting the aisles of a Blackpool music hall circa 1880. Perhaps not the most flattering description, but consider that she typically resembles a de-sexed technocratic Amazon from a sterile laboratory sometime in the near future. Frankly, we'll take tarted-up girlishness and painted Jezebels over pantsuits-wearing androgens. Today's celebrities are too often turning their sexuality into some kind of sharpened instrument, a razor-edged scalpel that intimidates rather than delights. But Ms. Moss reminds us that our grandfathers and their grandfathers knew a pretty lady was rather an actress in a low, bawdy farce, not a stainless-steel cog in a brutally efficent machine of lust-production. The whole business should be full of bangs on the head, tawdry-minded uncles hiding away in closets, nervous brides duped and terrified by overripe fruits they mistake for their groom's manhood, misunderstandings and pratfalls. Miss Moss's clownish, commedia boff make-up is a wink and pat on the back to the jolly frivolity of celebrity fornication.
Wags that we are, we declare, "Carry on, Carrie-Ann!"
Jack and pals take up a subject today in which we have some interest: horrible hack Jim Mullen. In the interest of expanding upon his insights, we present the following.
NEW FEATURE:
The Jim Mullen's Hot Sheet Challenge!
Each of these four set-ups is included in this week's Hot Sheet, published in Entertainment Weekly. One of the jokes is Mr. Mullen's, the other two were written by Somenotions. See if you can guess the real punchline!
JIM MULLEN'S HOT SHEET CHALLENGE PLEDGE: We will never spend more than 5 minutes on the entire quiz.
1) The Apprentice: In the big finale, Donald Trump decided who gets a $250,000-a-year job with his company.
a) Working as his divorce lawyer.
b) Being his barber.
c) Opening the mail.
2) John Stamos/ Rebecca Romijn Stamos: The beautiful couple has called it quits after five years of marriage.
a) Where’s the constitutional amendment to ban actors from marrying?
b) He’s using 1-800-COLLECT to call a divorce lawyer.
c) The door’s open for David Gest.
3) The Punisher: A man whose family has been destroyed is bent on revenge upon the rich and evil John Travolta.
a) Kind of like how moviegoers felt after “Battlefield Earth”
b) He captures him and forces him to fly coach for the rest of his life.
c) The original title was “Look Who’s Punishing.”
4) Connie and Carla: Two women pretend to be drag queens to escape the mob.
a) This was J. Edgar Hoover’s original idea for the Witness Protection Program.
b) Gangsters finally caught on to fake nuns.
c) That’s how RuPaul got started.
One hates when critic and artist come into contact. Imagine Steven Soderberg pissing all over Roger Ebert, if you don't agree. But from time to time the twain meet. For example, today, Jack posts a letter recently sent to him. Worth a read.
Apologies for delays in our production. Once again we forgot our password. Furthermore, union issues.
In the elapsed time, Jack has continued his sparring with Hollywood, although with somewhat less vulgarity than has been typical. Good use of the net instead of the trident, we declare. One might have hoped for a spoiler alert, however, should one wish (unwisely! -ed.) to see "The Ladykillers." Perhaps Jack imagines he is doing the reader a service by ruining the end. Which raises troubling issues of the author as Godhead - should we cede to him the right to determine our futures, rather than using him as one uses a guidepost? The working metaphor here would demand a guidepost jumping into the road and blocking a sojourner's way!
One thing we enjoyed from "The Ladykillers" was the Nappy Roots songs.
