Mother, May I Sleep with Treacher?

If, if, if

IF I had my own band, it would be named The Dracutards and we would have black satin capes and thick glasses and happy smiles with crooked fangs.

IF I hosted a reality show, it would be called Who Wants to Fellate a One-Armed Hobo?

IF I were a cartoon character, my best friend would be Sir Reginald Crazington III and he would have a monocle and a Napoleon hat and we would solve mysteries.

IF forced to have a same-sex liaison with any celebrity, living or dead, or else my whole family would be murdered, I would choose Greg Evigan.

IF I got to pick one food of which I could eat an unlimited quantity without gaining any weight, it would be scientifically impossible.

IF you're still reading this, I'm very sorry.

Dear Douglas Wolk:

A review written all in rhyme might seem really clever, but after the second paragraph, your head I'd like to sever.

Here's a thing I like to do where I sit on my ass and watch online trailers for movies I'll never see and then type up stupid snotty unfair crap about them

Constantine: Keanu Reeves branches out in this tale of a pallid, black-clad loner with supernatural powers who seems to gravitate toward damp, dilapidated, poorly lit buildings. Based on a DC Comics series about a blond-haired British fellow who has a discernible personality.

I, Robot: Asimov, Raped.

Alexander: Colin Farrell plays either Alexander the Great or the lead singer of Warrant. The filming of this motion picture marked the first time an Irishman ever battled an elephant that wasn't flying and pink.

Catwoman: Halle, Halle, Halle! Skin-tight black leather, skin-tight black leather, skin-tight black leather! No white wig or ever-shifting accent this time, though. But then, you'll be too busy rubbing yourself off through your cargo shorts to care, tubbsy.

Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle: AKA Dude, Where's My Sarong? or Harf-Bake. For far too long, white folks, black folks, and Mexican-looking folks have been the only ones allowed to humiliate themselves as the leads in dull-witted stoner comedies. This sad chapter of human history finally ends on July 30th!

Anchorman: This trailer is the only thing Will Ferrell has appeared in since the SNL "cowbell" sketch that has actually made me laugh out loud. Might be worth the downloadpaying my own money to buy a ticket. (Whoops, I linked to the wrong trailer. That one kind of sucked. This one is the funny one.)

Baadasssss!: Mario Van Peebles wrote and directed this behind-the-scenes look at his father Melvin's landmark ode to racial harmony, Sweet Sweetback's Baad Asssss Song. Mario plays his own dad back in the early '70s, and some kid plays Mario as a child. Budgetary restrictions prevented Van Peebles from filming the original draft of the script, which was populated entirely by various permutations of himself. The third-best use of sustained sibilance in a movie title ever, after the original film and the 1973 Strother Martin/Dirk Benedict joint SSSSSSS.

Napoleon Dynamite: Wes Anderson Ex-Lax.

The Terminal: What am I, made of stone? As if the mere sight of Tom Hanks as a befuddled foreignish man who's somehow forced to live in a major American airport isn't heartwearming enough, go ahead and throw in Catherine Zeta-Dialect-Coach-Jones with the most adorable bangs ever. I am weeping with renewed faith in humanity as I type this.

The Manchurian Candidate: Wait, never mind.

The Olsen Twins Countdown... to Early Onset of Osteoporosis

(Via Michele)

The very last scene of Friends, as written by someone who has never sat through an entire episode but has picked up bits and pieces due to the show's enervating cultural ubiquity

The guy who's all funny and wacky and fat and skinny and fat and skinny: Well, I guess this is it!

The tall guy with the face problem: Yep. This is... yep.

Courtney Cox: God, I'm so hungry.

The super-stupid guy: Pancakes. I want pancakes. Pancakes.

Jennifer Aniston: Pancakes could be good. I'm married to Brad Pitt in real life.

The ugly blonde lady who was in those Billy Crystal movies: HAIL SATAN!!! [Whips out six-shot revolver and shoots them all in the head, then herself]

[APPLAUSE]

Here's one by a guy who I guess watches the show

There's probably a play on "throwing his hat in the ring" and "ring toss," but the hell with it

(Photo courtesy of Wonkette)

Misc.

Are you a Creationist? Sick of all those smug science-huggers laughing at you? Well, tell 'em to check this shit out. They'll be all like, "I now realize that my beliefs are not only misguided, but the work of the Devil," and you'll be all like, "In your face, evolution bitches!"

Speaking of credulous peasants, interesting tidbit from a Times Online story about morons who throw their money at frauds like Deepak Chopra:

Demi Moore hopes to live to a great age through his teachings. “Even 130 years isn’t impossible,” she says.

Dude, you're clearly terrified of getting old now. Do you really want 90 more years of misery? Although I guess by the time you hit 130, you won't look a day over 122. (Via the Advice Goddess, who I wish I could see in her new 1-minute spots on the Biography Channel.)

Items of clothing once worn by genderless wraith Clay Aiken soon will be on display in a museum. Is this acceptable?

And is it just me, or does Lindsay Lohan look like Frankie Muniz in a fright wig? And, well, with boobs?

I sure am glad the Seinfeld cast has come to an agreement over the royalties for DVDs of the show. It's like a weight has been lifted. Now we'll be able to watch it anytime we want, instead of having to wait 20 minutes for a rerun. And it's a victory for the forces of good, too! Jason Alexander explains:

"Well, the character of George is not a millstone around my neck but I had to turn to my former bosses and say, 'I'm not invested in the longevity of the show. The longevity of the show actually is a detriment to me right now. It keeps me from getting certain kind of work. You have not made me a participant in the life of this show, therefore I am not inclined to give you these services.'

"It took a while for them to understand. Frankly, I think they were well prepared to proceed without our services until the audience said, 'Don't do that.'

"I said to Jerry when he made the decision years ago to not let us in, 'The day will come when you regret this decision, only because it's going to put us in a position eventually of seemingly tainting the wonderful impression of what this was for the four of us.

"You have created a rift between you and the three of us, and while we are in no way, shape or form looking for parity with you, you have created a chasm that is also inappropriate,'" Alexander recalled.

Translation: "We live in a society!!!"

Did you know that an anagram for "Mel Gibson" is "Big Melons"? Also "Noble Gism" and "Bong Smile." But more to the point: "Glib Omens."

'Cause We're. Goin' to the Chapel, and It's. Really Not Like That.

As we Americans* know, it's our God-given right to be provided with a steady stream of fake controversies to freak out about. And boy oh boy, there's never been a better time to convince yourself you're outraged. You've got the Janet's Thumbtacked Flapjack Scandal, the Crazy Guy from OutKast Onstage at the Grammies Dressed Like an Irish Tonto Debacle, the Shock Jock Who's Actually Kind of Boring and, Uh, Whatever It Was He Did the Other Day Fiasco, the Lethal Weapon 5: Christ Almighty Hubbub, and however many earth-shattering controversies have broken out between the time I typed this and the time I clicked Save.

But right now I want to talk to you about the most important issue of our lifetime this week: same-sex marriage. It's literally tearing this country apart, assuming you're confused about the definition of the word "literally." Well, I'm nothing if not a problem-solver, and the solution to this divisive issue came to me in a flash of what can only be described as genius. It's a little tactic borrowed from our armed forces:

Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

That's right! If two guys or two gals want to get hitched, no problem, as long as there's none of that fruity stuff in public. Instead of a kiss to seal the bond of holy matrimony, the guys can exchange a firm handshake. (Or if they're really feeling the moment, maybe one of those hugs where you slap the other guy's back a couple times so he knows you're not a homo.) Chicks, I guess they could make out a little after they say "I do," but only if they don't look too Rosie-ish. And then, whatever they want to do to each other in private from then on, fine, but making normal people uncomfortable with any PDAs (Public Displays of Affection, or Pretty Demonstrative Assplay) is strictly out of the question. Okay? That's a deal-breaker.

Although when you really think about it, why is everybody assuming that a same-sex marriage is automatically gay? What if two dudes are just really good friends and like hanging out? I mean, spending time with each other? Have you ever actually seen them doing it? Huh? Then you don't know! Two guys can be roommates and that doesn't mean they're gay, right? So why can't they tie the knot? Maybe it's just for tax purposes or something, gutter-brain. Try not to jump to conclusions next time.

Hetero same-sex weddings would save a lot of headaches, too. Guys could wear khakis to the ceremony and have the reception at Hooters; girls could frill it up as much as they wanted, and both sets of parents could split the costs 50/50. And in the long term, taking the whole "expecting sex" thing off the table would add years to a lot of marriages. It just makes good sense.

So there you go. Oh, and... America? You're welcome.

*If you're reading this from some other country, I'm really sorry to hear that.

To save time and effort in the future, my proposed shorthand for "That deal where some Canadians went nuts because a fake dog who insults people said mean things about Quebec and its residents"

Slobbergate.

Recycling is gay

For the 5-6 of you who want to read that retarded World's Finest story I relettered to make Superman and Batman even more openly gay, but who don't feel like printing it out and folding it up and so forth, it's now available in the kick-ass CDisplay format. Get the CDisplay freeware here. It's like 1.4MB or something, and it's really the best way to read comic books you haven't paid for.

Update: Whoops! I didn't realize CDisplay is PC-only. Well, crap. Sorry about that. Back to the ol' drawing board...

Reading is fundamental

Subject: May you stumble into the wrong alley.....
From: cobb95@hotmail.com

Jim,

You left wing pillow biter, I bet you'd love to be right in the middle of Timmy Robbins and Susan Sarandan as all three of you take it up the ass from Alec B. You in your GIMP outfit getting slammed by SS as she barries that strap on and Timmy rips that ball out of your mouth so he can you can smoke some leftist tube steak. It so easy being a leftist when you don't work for a living? Never contributed anything but 2nd rate comedy...I'd fucking rather watch old Jerry Lewis movies while sitting in a French Bistro then come accross your lame attempt at humor. Go suck one...better yet watch out for any MF you might even think is incorporated with the USMC.

***

Subject: Re: May you stumble into the wrong alley.....
From: [Me]
To: cobb95@hotmail.com

Hi. Which post are you replying to, please?

***

Subject: Re: May you stumble into the wrong alley.....
From: cobb95@hotmail.com
To: [Me]

Piss off...I counted to ten...go back to your hole...Pierre. I'm sure that you think all your satarical humor is clever but sit down sometime and think about how you live in a country where you can do as you please, write what you want, travel where you want and never have to show papers or stop at checkpoints. I know that it sounds cliche' but that right wasn't free.I know that you think I must be some gun toting, slack jawed, hillbilly but stop and think people, your people, over the last couple of centuries spent there lives creating or fighting so, you could write your jokes. Now...here's my right...(also cliche') Go fuck yourself...and God...help you if...any number of terrorist groups decides to buck back on American soil. You and your band of leftwing, country slamming, monkee bungs are gonna be the first ones needing a pair of "...Oops I crapped my Pants".

Good day...jerk off

***

Dearest Cobb,

Can Atkins drive you insane?

That's the question I investigate as thoroughly as possible, given the 150-word limit (looks like some people forgot all their grade-school math, tsk tsk!), over at this week's Black List.

(Note: The autographed baseball was carried in by the dog, which I forgot about. Must have been during one of my micro-blackouts. Also, it's interesting that the other new Subway ad shows a husband getting revenge on his wife's "cheating" on Atkins by stuffing his face with a whole box of crackers. So in the Subway-Ad Universe, women react to even the most minor perceived spousal betrayal with sudden, extreme violence, and men react with sudden, extreme eating. Kind of like a Bizarro version of my upbringing.)

Crappy Headlines to Recent News, Part 1 of However Many (Probably just 1)

The Loneliness of the Bong Distance Runner

Indiana Jones and the Tequila Swoon*

Oreo Crushed

Jolly Good, Tot?

Niles to Go

*Temple of Doom, Tequila Swoon... I know. I know.

Incidentally, the letter that the asterisk is replacing is probably "u"

"If all you do is spew this bumper sticker rhetoric and sputter these cute little catch phrases about how Bush is like Hitler, then you know you're a f*ckin' moron and yeah, that's distracting. But if you can articulate your reason and have a conversation and say, 'Let me tell you why I hate Bush, and it's not because he's an evil guy,' then hopefully, you won't be painted in a corner as a misfit." -- David Cross, not addressing Garofalo by name

Speaking of Bob & David, I cracked up at the latest "I Love Movies!" column at their site. This happens every time, because Doug Benson is funny. But check out the picture of Charlize "Ugly = Credibility" Theron:

Or how about "Put away your boners"? Unless it's like team uniforms or something, like you've got your "home boner" and your "away boner." That would be pretty cool, actually. Mine is definitely a "home boner." Very much so... Anyway, nice job, Benson! Maybe you should lay off the MARY WANNA!

I'm just glad he gave me some hair. And an arm.

"I actually thought of you, Jim, when I drew that. That's my portrait of how I imagine you blogging." -- Tony Millionaire, on "The Hierarchy of the Nerd"

"Brain"storming with my buddy Kevin Parrott, who did most of the work on that fake anti-war poster we did for that one contest that one time

Me: All this Bush = Hitler hubbub at MoveOn.org... Damn, I wish we'd tried to do a video for that contest. We could have come up with something a lot more offensive than those two amateurs did.

Kevin: Oh, no shit. I'm thinking Bush laughing and eating Iraqi baby brains for breakfast, followed by a soak in a hot tub filled with crude oil.

M: The fork he's using to eat the baby brains, instead of regular tines, it has little swastikas.

K: And instead of a rubber duck in the hot tub, he has an Osama Bin Laden doll which he hugs and kisses like a little girl hugging a baby doll.

M: "I wuv woo, 'Sahmmy!"

K: The Osama Doll is dressed like Mrs. Beasley.

M: Moby is so inspired by our entry, he writes a song about it on his next album. The song is called "Action Alert."

K: Our theme song for the commercial is called "Bloody, Fascist People" set to the tune of "Shiny, Happy People." Margaret Cho sings along in character as her mother, in pidgin English.

This seemed too good to just leave in Tony Pierce's comments, and I haven't seen anybody else make this half-assed joke, and so what if it's like a week late

A Conversation with the Cleveland Police Who Thought Elecia Battle, the Woman Who Claimed She Lost That $162 Million Lottery Ticket, Had a "Credible Story"

Hello, stupid cops.

Hey! Watch it.

I'm just being honest. You're really, really dumb.

Leave us alone, her story checked out.

You've mentioned that. "Well, she knew where the ticket was sold." Did she really? Boy, the only way she could have uncovered that little piece of top-secret info would be if, I don't know, if she PICKED UP A DAMN NEWSPAPER THE DAY AFTER THE DRAWING.

...oh yeah. That's usually the first thing they report, isn't it? They give out the numbers, and they say where the winning ticket or tickets were sold. Huh.

Yeah, "huh."

Okay, okay. But she knew the numbers by heart!

You mean somehow this diabolical criminal mastermind was able to memorize six numbers in less than a week? Wow!

You're pushing it. Well, how about the way she told us why she picked each number? She had a story for each one.

That was good too. "I picked the number 32 because... uh... because it's my son's birthday backwards! Yeah!" Jesus. Are you guys the Cleveland cops or the Keystone Kops? Hey, what are you--

[A muffled scream, the sound of multiple nightsticks making contact with multiple bones. Tape ends.]

Back to the Suture

Michael J. Fox is going to appear on Scrubs as... a surgeon?!? What next, Stevie Wonder as an ambulance driver?

Tomorrow Sometimes Blows

Lileks points us to the online trailer for Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. Looks like a fun idea: What if the rampaging robots from the '40s Superman cartoons really existed, and Jude Law was the only one who could stop them? The various city-smashing Art Deco robots look fantastic, but there's something claustrophobic-looking about the shots with actual humans in them. Here's why, according to the IMDb entry on Kerry Conran, the writer and director:

Wrote a CGI program that allows him to shoot an entire movie against blue screens, and fill in the backgrounds with images. Having an already-existing 3-D storyboard of every scene in his computer, all he needs to do is replace the computer-generated figures with live actors, and he has finished his film.

Damn you, George Lucas. Damn you to hell. But who am I kidding? I'll be there to watch the pretty pretty people and the pretty pretty splosions. Even if it's just a shinier version of one of those crappy '90s CD-ROM games.

And Conran is from Flint, Michigan. Hmmm... maybe he and Michael Moore could collaborate on a movie where all of Moore's fantasies are made real through the magic of CGI. They could have a bank with a rifle vending machine in the lobby! Dubya furtively ushering the Bin Laden family onto a plane, whispering "We did it!" Etc.

My Humble Additions to the List of Porn Titles for 2003 Movies

As seen here:

Big Fist
Cold Mountin'
Drill Bill
Fondling Nemo
Gooplex
Lost in Dan's Lotion
The League of Extraordinary Genitals
MELF (Mom Everybody'd Like to Fuck)
Melvin Goes to Rim 'Er
Nad Santa
Once Upon a Time in Meg's A-Hole
Secondhand Loins
Spy Kids 3D: Gay 'Em Over
Tex's Ass-Chains All Masturbated O'er
Under the Tuscan's Buns

And of course: Stuck on You

Reader Mail

Subject: It must be maddening

It is at least amuzing to see the effect some modest success (and that's all is is so far) driving the left into such a spin. Imagine if OBL is caught and some form of democracry (on the Turkish model perhaps) were to start in Iraq in 12-18 months.

You'll such just be much too funny to bear.....unlike now where you're attempts at humour are sadly lacking. It's Ok though, you can cry yourself to sleep at night knowing you're in the right. It's better than a mass grave and after all, people fought and died so you could be this clever.

Best of luck....it seems you'll have 5 more years of yucks to fire-off then maybe St. Hillary can save you

Dear Reader:

In the interest of equal time, because above all else, humor must be fair (and balanced!)

Since Saddam's capture, White House officials have avoided public gloating...

Yeah, they've got Fox News for that! Seriously, Brit Hume was so overjoyed, he almost moved his face. I haven't seen Bill O'Reilly this giddy since Krystallnacht. Ohhhhhh! Hey, Hannity, is that a roll of Life Savers in your pocket, or did they just catch the guy who didn't have anything to do with 9/11? Shepard Smith hasn't drooled this much since that one time his CPU crashed on the air. Laurie Dhue smacked her lips so hard... er... she's got big lips for a Fox News babe, right? Um... So hard it blew out the burning cross in the lobby? I don't know.

Hey, they can't all be gems. I've got a quota to fill, apparently.

Speaking of things that are not funny

The Onion A.V. Club has a new feature called "Say Something Funny", in which a comedian is given 250 words to do just that. They'll never stretch the definition of "comedian" wide enough to let in a blogger, of course, let alone one with my track record. But why not enter the Land of Make Believe and pretend they did?

I've got 250 words, huh? Let's see... Oh! Here's something funny I can say: "Suck my dick, muthafucka!!!" I guess that's only funny if you can hear the way I said it as I was typing it, which was TOTALLY HILARIOUS.

How many words is that? One, two, three... 41 words. Okay. Um... Does "Um..." count as one of the words? You guys should provide some sort of guidelines. I'm not saying that to be critical, just speaking from the other side of the desk, you know? Sometimes you have to work these things out as you go, I understand how it is.

Wow, this is harder than I thought. Do I need to use up the whole 250 words? I think the "suck my dick" thing was pretty funny. If I made an MP3 of me saying that, and then you could link the MP3 to where I wrote that? Like you click on it, and then you hear it? Could we work that out? I mean, it's called "Say Something Funny," not "Type Something Funny." I'm not sure what you people want from me.

Okay, this is pissing me off now. Why don't YOU say something funny? Yeah, come on, slay me. Go ahead, genius. Huh? I can't hear you. Not so easy, is it? Yeah. That's right. Why don't you go back to reviewing Japanese porno cartoons, or, or whatever it is you little fucks do all day, and I won't have to come over there and

Jim Treacher is a "blogger." His web site is jimtreacher.com.

And all this time we thought he was trying to look like Diana Ross

Ever since he played the Scarecrow in The Wiz, Mike has had to settle for being second best. That ends today!

(Sung to the tune of "If I Only Had a Brain")

If a dev'lish prosecutor
And nerds at their computers
Are causin' you some pain
Just think back to days so jolly
Cozy spoonin' with Macaulay
When you sorta had a brain

On your habits they've been dwellin'
Your records ain't been sellin'
You're not the one to blame
You could teach 'em 'bout the Jew shit
That's kept you from movin' units
If you only had a brain

Oh, you could tell 'em how
You grew into your nose
How the kiddies share your bed in all their clothes
With almost no fellatios

Though they call you weird and creepy
No need for feelin' weepy
As things go down the drain
If it's prison where you're goin'
Think of Webster as you're blowin'
Out that thing you call a brain

(Another theory)
(And another)

Just to stop all the inquisitive e-mails

No, I have not seen the Paris Hilton sex tape. If I wanted to watch a skeleton getting pounded, I'd rent Jason and the Argonauts.

P.Y.T. (Poop Your Trousers)

Elizabeth Spiers asks: "If Michael Jackson goes to jail, how will he possibly maintain his nose?" I don't know, but I think he should be more worried about toning up his rectal column for a prolonged visit to the Graybar Hotel. One of the urban legends is, he's had so many enemas that he's lost all muscle control up in there and needs to use tampons to keep from crapping his pants. Will his slack, rapidly aging bran-canyon be of much use to any but the most freakishly endowed convicts? And would you want to put your dick in that face, unless you're an adorable moppet who's just been slipped a mickey while your parents are shooed away to the petting zoo? No, Mike will need to come up with some other form of currency in the joint, or he might find himself reenacting the knife-fight from "Beat It" without all the dancing.

Questions raised by musical acts I saw on late-night TV last week

Iggy Pop w/ Sum 41 on The Late Show with David Letterman

Doesn't he have track marks older than they are?

The Strokes on Late Night with Conan O'Brien

If they don't care, why should I?

The RZA on Last Call with Carson Daly

Wait, why the hell am I watching Last Call with Carson Daly?

I still wonder if Tom Selleck would've been any good (not really)

In honor of tomorrow's release of the Indiana Jones flicks on DVD, and in honor of my own continuing apathy and despair, here's a rerun from last May:

The good news is that they're finally going to put all the Indiana Jones movies on DVD. The bad news is that it sounds like Indy will be looking for "artifacts" inside his own adult undergarment before they come up with a script for the fourth movie. So here's my attempt to get things rolling. If Steven Spielberg or anybody reads this, feel free to use this scene as long as you give me a lot of money.

FADE IN:

INT. CAVE OR SOMEPLACE

Indy is in a big room full of evil guys that are trying to kill him. He is a lot older than in the last movie because it is later in his life. He is with his faithful teenage sidekick Helga. She is totally hot. (Kristen Durst?)

INDY
(showing off)Check this shit out.

Indy whips a ton of guys with his bullwhip. He is wailing on them hard and they die. Another one runs up to Indy and is really screaming like crazy. Indy makes a face and punches him in the face.

HELGA
(impressed)That was pretty awesome. This is the '50s or early '60s!

Helga jumps way up in the air and kicks a bunch of bad guys with her fighting powers. She kicks maybe 20-30 bad guys.

HELGAI got sole!

INDYDe-feet them!

Suddenly all the bad guys run away. Indy smiles and wipes bad-guy blood off his bowtie.

INDYI might be old, but I can still rock some ass!

Then we see that all the bad guys ran away because a super-huge bad guy (CGI?) just came up behind Indy. Indy is all like he doesn't know the guy is behind him. Helga is making "look behind you, idiot" motions but Indy's just like "What?" The huge guy grabs Indy and throws him all over the place.

INDY
(surprised)Why didn't you tell me there was a guy?!?

Indy makes a face. Then he pulls himself together and kicks some ass. The giant monster-type guy dies!

INDYWhew! Now let's go get the treasure out of this cave or whatever!

They get the treasure and there is a lot more talking and punching and a big ending, this is just to give you an idea. Thank you.

REAL Ultimate Power!!!
Patton Oswalt Talent Showcase

Hey, cool

Last week, Black Table put out a call for reader submissions for their new feature, "The Black List." This week, they used the blurb I sent them about the Denis Leary roast on Comedy Central. I didn't get paid or anything, but it's still cool that they didn't just delete the e-mail. (Although they did cut the part where I said the roast is a C-, but a solid B for Lenny Clarke completists. Because there's no such thing as a Lenny Clarke completist, get it? Yeah, you're right.) The submission guidelines are at the bottom of the page, if you want to send them something. Kinda fun.

Sometimes it's worth the extra $15 a month

That's the sort of job I need to find: headline writer. Just think of the other possibilities...

Sightless Boy Keeps Eyes on Prize
Legless Youth Walks New Path
Brain-Trauma Survivor Uses His Head
Genital Amputee Having a Ball
Etc.

Posted by Jim Treacher at 01:22 PM

We love to verify the muscular configuration of your mouth via facial-recognition scan^TM

According to Boing Boing, McDonald's is testing robotic burger-flippers and automated kiosks for ordering. Eventually they'll automate the whole process until humans become unnecessary at any point. An assembly line of efficient machines will slaughter the cows, grind them into burgers, fry them up, top them and put them on buns, chemically convert them into puddles of pickle-scented diarrhea that are then squirted directly into the toilet, and hurl trash cans through the windows to protest Western imperialism.

I'll continue to avoid their vile swill, although apparently their salads are okay.

(Thanks to Parrott for the Photoshop magic)

Dear Esquire:

Just in case Jayson flakes out on his review for whatever reason, I went ahead and did up a little fill-in for him (see below). Please let me know if you use it so I can pick up a copy when it comes out.

Respectfully,
Jim Treacher

Put 'Em on the Glass [Feel free to change this title, I'm not married to it or anything]

Shattered Glass is a movie about Steven Glass, who was this writer for New Republicans magazine who made up a bunch of characters and events and passed them off as stuff that really existed in real life. Which I'm not sure why that's such a big deal, but whatever. So he did this for a while, and then he got caught, and then nobody heard from him for a few years, and now he's back because he wrote a book that nobody seems to be buying. And now there's a movie about his life. Why not?

In the movie he's played by Hanson Christian, best known for his role on Star Trek. I liked the movie. It was pretty good. They had popcorn at the theater, but they had just run out of the fake butter. Which is the best part! The elderly, white-haired clerk behind the counter was very apologetic as he explained this to me. His wrinkled brow was furrowed with worry and his eyes glimmered with compassion for his disappointed customers. His scuffed and faded nametag read "Leonard." This was in the lobby of the movie theater, before the movie that I really did see.

So anyway, Paul Zahn is also in the movie. He's been in a lot of other movies, like that one with Jack Black, and he's always funny. He's not as funny in this one, probably. Clëö Sëvingëy is in it as the girl, but for once she doesn't give anybody a handjob. [Verify?] Plus, the guy who wrote and directed it is the creator of the '80s TV show Earth 2, so that should give you some idea of what to expect.

What else. I don't remember the name of the theater, but it was sort of old-timey, not like a multiplex or anything. It was a fading symbol of a bygone era. Oh, and when I went up to the box office and paid my money, I said, "Yeah, that's the ticket!" I got a chuckle out of that one.

In summary, Shattered Glass will be swept up... at the Oscars!

[I realize I'm a few hundred words short, but just put whatever you want in there, fiddle with the margins, whatever. The money's going to charity anyway, right?]

Garofalo To Be Lowered Into Shredder

Bushington, DB -- In a televised address from somewhere inside one of his 57 palaces, President George W. Bush today issued a fatwa on actress/comedienne Janeane Garofalo, calling for "all noble American people to hunt down the godless dog Garofalo and bring her to me alive." Bush then stepped back from the ornatedly carved podium and pressed a button on a large industrial plastic-shredding machine behind him, into which a pair of Secret Service agents slowly lowered a futilely struggling lamb, hooves first. "Such is the fate of all who would oppose me," Bush intoned, over the grinding of the shredder and the anguished shrieks of the gradually pulverized animal.

"The infidel Michael Moore," continued the heavily bejeweled president, after the gore-streaked machine had finished its work, "is to be soaked in kerosene and burned alive in the street, and the smoldering ashes mocked and spat upon by children and old women. Let it be so. Let it be so. The hopeless monkey Tim Robbins, who merely will be decapitated on the steps of the Bush [formerly Lincoln] Memorial, may count himself among the fortunate. God is great." Also named in the 45-minute statement were Sean Penn (drowning), Barbara Streisand (poison gas), Martin Sheen (the bastinado, followed by suffocation, flaying of the shins and forearms, more bastinado, and finally beheading), and Saved By the Bell star Dustin Diamond (genital electrocution), as well as several dozen other noted entertainers and the increasingly savage and complex methods of torture and/or execution in store for them.

After describing in precise detail how Coldplay frontman Chris Martin, over a period of days, will be sliced into "as many pieces as there are stars in the midnight sky" with electrically charged wire-saws while being doused at irregular intervals with buckets of habanero sauce, "such that the very fires of Hell will bring relief," Bush then ended the speech by hoisting a bolt-action rifle over his head, squeezing shut his kohl-rimmed eyes, and bellowing a stream of glossolalia, or "speaking in tongues," for several minutes.

Garofalo -- who has gone into hiding in and around her Los Angeles home since her appearances this week on CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, MTV, BET, HGTV, The View, The Caroline Rhea Show, the Portland morning talk show Wakin' Up with Connie and Chuck, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, Real Time with Bill Maher, The Daily Show, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel Live, and Blind Date -- responded to Bush's decree in a posting to the online outreach community CelebsRpeople2.com: "It's just so typical of the duplicitous mainstream media to look the other way while actors and other public figures are being silenced. Everything's just fine, people, go back to sleep. Wait, how is anybody even reading this?"

(Apologies to The Onion (duh))