These Hors D’œuvres Suck

I’ve been scraping my brain all week for wild Thanksgiving memories to write about, and I’ve come to the conclusion that every Turkey Day I’ve ever had has been pretty routine. Grandma never denounced my “alternative lifestyle,” the bird never tasted like homeless ball sack marinated in raw sewage, the carving knife was never plunged into another relative’s flesh with fervent glee by Crazy Uncle Nursing Home. It’s all been very average November feast junk. Stuffing, football, the occasional viewing of Uncle Buck.

The only outstanding T-Day visions I could trudge up are the time I announced over dinner that I had a canker sore (Grandpa laughed pretty hard at that one) and the time I couldn’t have chocolate soda with dinner because my friend’s aunt had thrown it all away (shoulda reserved a can earlier in the week). So if you’re looking for a nice serving of pain and humiliation with your cranberry sauce, go someplace else.

I took down my “Best of JG2Land 2009″ post because I was afraid it was a tad premature. I might write something amazing in December. You never know.

It’s John Larroquette’s birthday today. He’s 62. According to his Twitter (yes, John Larroquette has a Twitter), JL “will not sleep until this night eschews the sun in memory of my mother who toiled and fought for 24 hours to eject the parasitic boarder she had housed for 9 months. And once freed from the burden of childbirth rejoiced and devoted her life to mine.” I hate that the guy from “Night Court” is a better writer than me.

You know what else I hate? My inability to determine whether Danko Jones is ball-smashingly awesome or totally fucking stupid. They dance that line like Nutcracker Fairies. Danko J personify the generic “RAWK, LOL!!1″ mentality championed by people like Jack Black and career “Guitar Hero” players, yet they manage to kick up enough flavor to get stuck in my head even when I’m not really paying attention. To wit, “Code Of The Road,” from the band’s last full-length:

Musically, this song is so good it makes me want to break a beer bottle over my mailman’s head. However, Danko Jones commit a cardinal rock sin here (for me, anyway) by singing about “life on the road.” SO MANY songs have already been written about touring in a rock n’ roll band. It’s one of the ultimate clichés. Rollin’ all over the map, livin’ outta hotels, rockin’ out every night, missin’ your woman…ugh, it’s like one giant sausage fart. When I get rich enough, I’m going to release a compilation called Touring: Never Boring (Except When A Band Is Singing About It). The tracklisting will look something like this:

“Touring” by the Ramones
“The Killing Road” by Megadeth
“Code Of The Road” by Danko Jones
“No Sleep Til Brooklyn” by the Beastie Boys
“Wherever I May Roam” by Metallica
“(We Are) The Road Crew” by Motörhead
“We’re The Replacements” by They Might Be Giants
“Something Wrong” by Screeching Weasel
“Magical Mystery Tour” by the Beatles
“The Road” by Tenacious D
“Satellite” by the Sex Pistols
“Another State Of Mind” by Social Distortion
“Turn The Page” by Bob Seger
“We’re An American Band” by Grand Funk Railroad
“Travelin’ Band” by Creedance Clearwater Revival
“On The Road Again” by Willie Nelson
“Homeward Bound” by Simon & Garfunkel
“Driving On 9″ by the Breeders

But I digress. Danko Jones needs to stop crossing my circuits with their shtick. Either be totally lame, or make the jump to complete greatness.

Did “doing the laundry” ever catch on as slang for smoking pot? I ask because a few of my friends in high school tried to start that up, but I’m not really connected to the drug culture so I don’t know if it caught on. I guess I can check by going up to Harlem and asking assorted people on the street if they have any “laundry” they can sell me so I can go home and “do it.” In my “washing machine” (that’s slang for bong, bro!!!!). Just for the record, yes, these high school friends listened to copious amounts of rap metal.

Hey, guess what? I think the Them Crooked Vultures album is kinda boring.

Let’s start another paragraph with a question: you know how Prince is all cool and uppity and acts like he’s too good for everything? Well, whenever such thoughts cross your mind and bring you down, just remember the Artist once appeared on an episode of “Muppets Tonight” in 1997. He even appeared in a “Hee-Haw” spoof with Gonzo:

See? Prince does have a sense of humor!

I need to go find some turducken. Who has John Madden’s cell phone number?

Examining Kid Rock’s Common Sense Ideas

Hey, did you know Sarah Palin wrote a book? I feel this issue has been very underreported in the mainstream media. I download Sherman Hemsley’s podcast every day, and he hasn’t said boo about it. Plenty about Isabel Sanford and his other fellow cast members from “The Jeffersons,” but not word one concerning the recent literary activities of female Republicans named Sarah. Come on, Sherm, get with the program!

But I digress. Palin’s book is called Going Rogue, and it’s all about how she grew up to be Alaska’s hottest governor and the most controversial Veep candidate since that guy McGovern chose who had the shock therapy (that was McGovern, right?). I haven’t read Rogue, but others have, and I’ve been alerted to a curious sentence on page 300:

“Kid Rock, for instance, is very pro-America and has common sense ideas.”

Not sure the context, but whatever. Obviously, no one can ever question Kid Rock’s patriotism – the man loves our country so much he sometimes wears the flag as a poncho – but common sense ideas? Kid Rock? Srsly, 4 reelz? After mulling it over for a few minutes, I decided Sarah P. was right. Kid Rock is brimming with common sense ideas. He has been ever since he first burst on the scene in that lime green track suit oh so many years ago. Let us now take a look at some of these ideas, these core philosophies Mr. Rock has lived by that make him the Thomas Paine of late nineties rap rock:

1. Scream your name as loudly as possible at the beginning of your first major single. How often do you find yourself listening to the initial few seconds of a song and thinking, “Gee, I really like this, but I don’t know who’s singing. I wish they’d take a second to identify themselves so I can enjoy the rest of the music without such a heavy burden on my chest.”? Kid Rock belayed such fear and confusion at the beginning of “Bawitdaba,” the 1999 rocker that introduced a wary nation to the Detroit rapper and his radical platform of “midnight glances at topless dancers.” There could never be any confusion as to who the genius was behind this aggro-dirtbag classic – it was stated clearly and without question before the first verse even began! It’s surprising that the trend of artists shouting their names at the beginning of songs hasn’t become more widespread. You really only hear it in hip-hop, and even there, the performers usually don’t come anywhere near the gusto Kid Rock displayed at the top of “Bawidtaba” (I’ve never heard 50 Cent ripping his lungs up just to say his name).

2. Don’t employ anyone better-looking than you. Ever notice how every member of Kid Rock’s backing band, Twisted Brown Trucker, is basically just some non-descript white guy who’s slightly overweight and dressed like they hit up the clearance rack at Wal-Mart (except, of course, for the black female drummer)? This is no accident. By being the skinniest, most glued-together member of his musical posse, Kid Rock has ensured he’ll never be upstaged at his own show by the likes of Jason Krause or Paradime. Few people remember, but Uncle Kracker was actually bounced from Trucker when he began catching up to Rock’s flashy style and openly challenging the “Early Mornin’ Stoned Pimp” with dyed hair and lip gloss. That was a dangerous, unstable time. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that episode birthed a new policy within TBT, one that stated only Kid Rock himself was allowed to wear mink stoles with pork pie hats on stage.

3. Piggyback on the most recognizable aspects of pop culture. Kid Rock doesn’t sample obscure break beat records he finds in thrift shops; he samples Metallica and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Kid Rock doesn’t hire unknown actors to star in his videos; he hires people like Gary Coleman. By incorporating highly trusted and widely recognized entertainment institutions like this into his art, KR has cemented his staying power into the next century. Will “Sweet Home Alabama” ever not be a beer-soaked southern party anthem? No. Will the phrase “Whatchutalkin’bout, Willis?” ever not be a fountain of ebonic hilarity? No. Did Tommy Lee wish he had done a few things differently the week KR got all up in Pamela Anderson’s Kool-Aid? Probably.

4. Don’t be afraid to go soft. Sure, a lot of people like bombastic rock songs about strippers and motocross, but even more people like tender acoustic ballads that espouse love and regret (not to mention love-based regret, and regret-filled love). Kid Rock knows this, which is why he’s occasionally put aside his crotch-grabbing, pyrotechnic-enhanced antics for a more “adult contemporary” sound. Efforts like 2003’s “Picture,” a country-tinged duet with Sheryl Crowe, have helped Kid Rock infiltrate areas usually off-limits to cigar-chomping white rappers from Detroit (read: Nashville, the Super Bowl, Pamela Anderson). Call me crazy, but I don’t think Rock was allowed to perform with Jerry Lee Lewis that one year at the Grammys because Jerry was a huge fan of “American Bad Ass.”

5. Don’t be afraid to play golf. Recently, Kid Rock has been spotted playing golf. As we all know, golf is the premiere sport of the rich and powerful, a game that swims in money and influence. By rubbing elbows on the links with society’s upper crust, KR is sure to have his ideas heard by those who can get things done. It’s surely only a matter of time before we see the word “Radiohead” actually printed on commercial toilet paper.

Now don’t get me wrong – I still have my reservations about Kid Rock (namely, his insistence on using a giant “U” instead of the proper “you”). However, if Sarah Palin is setting Rock up as potential running mate for 2012, she has my support. If anyone’s perfectly qualified to be Sarah Palin’s Vice President, it’s Kid Rock.

Haikus About Ex-Girlfriends

Birthday joy ruined
biography of RuPaul
all you got me? Damn.

Diet pills and booze
watching you turn green was cool
just like a mood ring!

I’m sorry I laughed
when that guy spit up on you
guess that was a sign

Part of my soul died
every time you dragged me to
see the Aqua Bats

How could you dump me?
What, you only like guys
who have homes and jobs?

Another night spent
watching High School Musical
you look old for nine

I’m sorry I lied
about knowing Bob Barker
still amazed that worked

Selected Titles From The Box Of VHS Porn My Roommate Keeps In The Living Room

Pump Action
No Director Credited
Starring: Beau Beaumont, Cody Vance, Hurt Rogers
1997
Notes: Cody Vance is the name of my personal injury attorney. I don’t think it’s the same guy.

Fire Island Cruising
Directed by Michael Lucas
Starring: Michael Lucas, Chad Hunt, Phillipe Siren
2000
Notes: Spawned at least seven sequels (I’m serious).

Total Corruption
Directed by Chi Chi La Rue
Starring: Damien, Hank Hightower, Donnie Russo
1993
Notes: Donnie Russo did all his own stunts.

Black Balled 2
Directed by Chi Chi La Rue
Starring: Luke Savage, Winston Love, Drakkar
1998
Notes: Drakkar also appeared in Blacker The Berry, Sweeter The Juice and Dog Bone that year (again, totally serious).

Alas, I could find no info on the fifth selection, Luke’s Story 3, not even on the Internet Adult Film Database. However, I can tell you the first porno I ever saw was called Naughty Girls Need Lovin’ Too and it had the best theme song. I should really write a whole post about it.

I Have Created Art

This piece speaks on man’s inhumanity to man. I’ll sell the original print to the highest bidder. Click to embiggen.

Rod Is Dead, 2009; Microsoft Paint.

Paul Blart Haiku

So bad it’s good? No.
So bad it’s incredible.
you win this round, Kev.

Ken Ober: 1957-2009 (SRSLY 4 REEL HAZ SAUCE)

Okay, if the New York Times is reporting it, I’m probably safe on this one: Ken Ober, the wry comedian who gained fame on cable television in the 1980s as the host of MTV’s premiere game show “Remote Control,” died this weekend in his Santa Monica, CA, home of unspecified causes. He was 52.

Born Ken Oberding in Brookline, Massachusetts, Ken Ober’s TV credits included stints behind the camera producing such programs as “Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn” and “The New Adventures of Old Christine.” However, Ober is probably best remembered for his four years helming “Remote Control,” MTV’s television trivia game show that subjected Laz-E-Boy-seated contestants to wacky categories like “Brady Physics” and “Dead or Canadian.” “Remote Control,” which aired between 1987 and 1990, attracted a rabid college following and helped launch the careers of such notable talents as Adam Sandler, Denis Leary, and the aforementioned Quinn.

Anchoring the general craziness of “Control” (which ranged from Sandler’s recurring “Stud Boy” character to the humiliating “Off The Air” siren/breakaway wall that eliminated low scoring contestants after the second round) was Ober, whose smooth, slightly sarcastic “every dude” persona endeared him to scores of TV junkies across the nation. “Remote Control” was absolutely my favorite television program for the four years that it aired, and a large part of my obsession had to do with “Business Casual” Ken’s affable job emceeing. He was like Bill Murray sans the venom, disgust, and self-loathing. Ober was exactly the kind of figure MTV needed at that time to counteract the rise of such unbearably cartoonish veejay figures as “Downtown” Julie Brown and Pauly Shore.

I was pleased as punch to see Ken turn up again in 1997 as the podium jockey for Comedy Central’s “Make Me Laugh” redux. Alas, the giggles didn’t last, and after just one season Ober faded back behind the scenes. I was always hoping he’d reemerge one last time for a triumphant game show victory lap, charming America all over again with his non-threatening looks and partially defeated delivery. I’m devastated to know that can’t happen now.

Thanks for all the yuks and good times, Ken. You brightened my afternoons every time you popped up.

Try Walking Into A Deli And Urinating On The Cheese

The Vandals, pre-Warped Tour.

Peep my most recent Crawdaddy! piece – a reflection on the first Vandals EP, Peace Thru Vandalism, which features the incredible “Anarchy Burger (Hold The Government).” Snippet:

“‘Anarchy Burger’ did not disappoint when it finally assaulted my ears. The raucous two-minute explosion is Peace Thru Vandalism’s true diamond, a wild tribal punk pounding that boasts deliciously inept riffing and comically offensive lyrics delivered in a balls-to-the-wall caterwaul by stocky singer Steve Jensen (the original Stevo). Was SoCal punk ever more cringe-inducing than the opening lines of this song?

‘Anarchy, kill a cat! / Shoot James Brady in the back! / Raise an army of rabid rats! / Beat your neighbor with a bat!’

That still stings, and I was only two years old when Reagan was shot.”

Read the whole thing here.

Unsolicited Mini-Reviews Of Films I Have Recently Watched Part 526

Step Brothers: It’s great to see the dad from Bill & Ted working again (the bald one). Come to think of it, this movie is kind of like Bill & Ted 3: Bill & Ted Gain Sixty Pounds, Get Perms, Suffer An Incredible Amount Of Brain Damage, Forget They Can Time Travel, And Annoy Everyone They Meet Every Single Day Of Their Lives. A little uneven, but there are plenty of yuks. Plus, Rob Riggle. That guy elevates the hilarity of every project he signs on for.

Hail! Hail! Rock n’ Roll: Chuck Berry turned sixty in 1986, so the guy who made An Officer And A Gentleman decided to stage a huge concert celebrating the rock n’ roll pioneer and film a documentary around it. What the director didn’t count on was Berry being a complete diva, one who nearly sank the production before it began. Truth be told, this DVD’s behind-the-scenes featurette chronicling Berry’s impossible nature is far more entertaining than the film itself. Yet Hail! Hail! does boast plenty of fun moments, particularly during the actual concert. The whole package is a loving tribute to a sizable asshole who helped invent a really incredible form of music.

Infamy: Graffiti doc that peers into lives of three or four different artists. Interesting stuff – particularly “Earsnot,” the angry NYC tagger whose frustration and art stems from his father forbidding him to play flute as a child.

The Hangover: Finally, the frat pack movie to dethrone Old School as the tops of the genre. The plot weakened near the end and the Tyson bits struck me as forced, but you can’t argue with the sheer volume of funny. I got on my LOL-copter and ROFL’d every waffle in sight during this one (or whatever the hell the kids are saying).

Moon: Sam Rockwell has a contract job on our nearest celestial entity (someone check the facts on that)…or does he? This psychological sci-fi exploration was so good I watched it two and a half times in a row (life interrupted). Expertly acted, directed, produced, and probably catered. Moon should get every Oscar available come awards season.

Dear Hollywood

I, like the rest of the world America’s unemployed writers, cannot believe you are turning the “Shit My Dad Says” Twitter feed into a TV show. Actually, that’s a lie. I can absolutely and completely believe you are turning the “Shit My Dad Says” Twitter feed into a TV show. It’s probably the most popular Twitter feed in America right now, even more so than “Shit My Gardener Does” or “Shit My Dog Daydreams About.” Why, it’s even racking up more hits than “Shit I’d Like To See Ashton Kutcher Wear To Topher Grace’s Funeral,” which I believe is run by the father from “That 70s Show.”

Of course you’re latching on to this hot trend and attempting to transform it into another tepid prime time entry for network television. This is not surprising at all. That’s what you do. And you know what? “Shit My Dad Says” is actually pretty funny (and some of those things may have actually been said by the old man pictured, not just conjured up by the Maxim editor who started the whole thing!). What gets me, Hollywood, is that you have used none of the ideas I have presented on my own Twitter feed, which is exclusively dedicated to blockbuster movie ideas.

Hollywood, how could you pass up ideas like Zat You, Santa Claus?, my James Earl Jones Christmas vehicle? How could you turn a blind eye towards Godzilla vs. King Kong 2: Donnybrook In Red Hook, Undershirt Johnson Conquers K-Mart, or the hilarious fish-out-of-water comedy Manscapin’? That last one, in which Eddie Murphy plays a foul-mouthed chest hair on Jeff Goldblum, is sure to revive the former actor to his Beverly Hills Cop-era glory. I’ve been giving you gold, Hollywood, but you’ve ignored it all. You could at the very least give me a meeting to discuss Winona Ryder’s Naked Pudding Fight. That idea tested very well in single parent Midwestern households.

Look, you’re obviously going to do what you want to do, Hollywood. I’m just saying the obvious route isn’t always the best way to go. I’m sure the synergy between Justin Long and whoever you get to play the old man (Burt Reynolds?) will be hilarious at first, but every sitcom falls prey to bloat sometime after the first season. What will differentiate this from “Everybody Loves Raymond” or “Three Guys, Two Girls, Some Pizza, & A Few Mildly Amusing One-Liners” once Maxim guy jumps ship and Marlon Wayans joins the cast? Nothing, I say. However, a movie in which a stark naked Winona Ryder angrily wrestles young starlets in a giant pile of sticky foodstuffs shall always stand alone as a classic.

Good luck with “Shit My Dad Says,” Hollywood. If you ever want to spin it into a treatment for the silver screen, you know who to call.

Best,

JG2