The only way that the "hipster grifter" would be at all interesting and not just another tattoo’d trainwreck is if she is in fact literarlly capable of giving one “a hand job with her mouth”. That is to say, her anatomy is such that, like an Alien (Giger-style) or a goblin shark she was able to extrude another appendage from her mouth, but unlike those fearsome creatures (from whom no one would want to receive any sort of job) said appendage was actually a hand.
It is a testament to the power of the Netflix recommendation algorithm that it predicted I would give Crank: High Voltage 4.5 stars, because the only Statham movie I had ranked was Snatch(one star) and I really don’t have a strong genre rental history. To give you an idea, here are some movies in my queue that I haven’t watched that Netflix predicts a similar ranking from me: Persona, The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant, My Winnipeg (although - i did watch and fall asleep during that one. I will give it another chance because, you know, Guy Maddin). Zentropa, and the original Funny Games (! which is shocking, because there are all sorts of things I object to about Haneke, i think)
Oddly enough it is only predicting 2.5 stars for Crank Classic. we shall see, soon.
(note: I kind of feel a little icky, like I am jumping on some sort of Crankwagon here, but fuck if that wasn’t entertaining as hell. I enjoyed it the same way as I enjoy Tim and Eric - a serious of kind of squirmy, ludicrously edited non-sequiturs strung together.)
I hope the man and woman whose photos are used in the Classmates.com ads (we’ll call them Nerdy Haircut Girl and Anonymous Blond Jock) are dead. Because if they’re not, I’m sure they’re pretty tired of that shit.
Maybe in addition to having organ donation being an option to check off on your driver’s license, allowing the posthumous use of your likeness in advertisements for things you, as a live human being would not want your image associated with, can be an option. You can provide income from beyond the grave for your family and not have to know that you’re that douchebag in the herpes ad.
Wow, European gift-giving protocol is so complex. An ipod is a gauche gift, but a whip is ok? Maybe the Obamas should have given the Queen a monogrammed ballgag or something.
[ETA more from the linked article]
Hitler was constantly giving presents: vases, tea sets, sweets, lamps, books, cigars, his own watercolours. In 1935, Goebbels got a stereophonic record player (at that time the acme of German sound technology).
Damn, why haven’t I finished that Lewis Hyde book? I would have something smart to say here.
While I do not own a copy of this game, I have played it many, many times over holidays ever since my brother introduced it to our family rituals. It is known in our dialect as “sheep” and there are dozens of other related, arcane expressions of anger and frustration that are included in the lexicon. So I would probably own you.
Chris, there is another board game that I have played exactly two or three at a friend’s house several years ago called "Evo: The Last Gasp" or something and it involves gaining evolutionary advances to your dinosaur species (one of which was quickly dubbed the “pussy patch”) until a comet randomly ends the game. I have tried to get a copy periodically but sadly it has been out of print for awhile.