Bring in the Ringer

February 25th, 2013 · Idiots

Hey here’s an idea. How about you don’t change the name of a classic work, but hire an actual disabled actor to play the role? Wouldn’t that be kind of great?

No?

WELL YOU’RE THE ARTISTIC DIRECTOR

Other shows in the Oddsocks 2013 Theatre Season:

• One Flew Over the Psychiatric Hospital
• Children of as Good a God as Yours
• Girl, Resumed
• See Some Evil, Depending on the Light and Where You’re Standing
• My Left Foot, Unless You Don’t Have a Left Foot, In Which Case I Mean Either Foot, or None

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Hallewood

February 22nd, 2013 · Web Sites

I started this site a long time ago, as a way to promote a radio show I was doing on KFI in Los Angeles. I took it offline for a few years while I ran Regretsy, and just put it back up again a few weeks ago.

In the process of getting this bastard up on its feet again, I’ve spent a lot of time combing through 13 year old posts, looking for things that might be fun to revisit.

Last night, I came across links to some particularly horrible Geocities vanity sites. If you were online in 2000, you remember the midi music and the bad gifs, and how generally horrible the internet looked. If you weren’t, there’s no way to show it to you, since these sites went offline years ago.

Or so I thought.

Last night, I decided to try The Wayback Machine to see if any of this stuff is cached, and believe it or not, some of this shit is still out there.

I’m only going to post two today as a sort of appetizer for the main event. I hope you take the time to explore them before someone realizes they’re still hosting this shit.

SASSY ANGEL KISSES

Sassy – her real name, by the way – has written over 500 poems.

Like this one:

“The greatest treasour on earth can’t been seen or touched. It has to be felt with the heart. Because the treasour is love.”

Yes, Sassy is a national treasour.

Sadly, there are only a few pages of poetry archived. I guess we’ll have to wait for the book on tape, which I like to imagine will be read by Shirley MacLaine.

BARRY AND TRISH

“We first met on Yahoo Chat on November 17, 1998. Barry had been going from room to room, just looking for someone to talk to. Barry and Trish chatted for awhile, and exchanged email addresses. They added each other to their friends list on Pager. They then went their separate ways, neither knowing what fate had in store for them.”

I don’t want to spoil the ending for you in case you never added someone to your friends list on Pager, but on January 5th, 1999, at 6:15AM Eastern Standard Time, Trish received an email advising her of a virtual flower delivery. Those virtual flowers would virtually change their lives for virtually ever.

But this isn’t just a love story. This site is a treasour trove of midi files and backgrounds, created by Barry himself. Probably while he was flying 34 hours to meet Trish for the first time.

AND NOW, THE MAIN EVENT

In February of 2000, Halle Berry ran a red light in a rented Chevy Blazer and crashed into another car on Sunset Boulevard. She suffered a gash to her head that required 20 stitches to close.

Which might explain this:

HALLEWOOD, THE OFFICIAL HALLE BERRY WEBSITE OF 2000

I’m going to go out on a limb and say this is the most fantastic thing I’ve seen in my adult life. There are beauty tips, workout videos, and a cringeworthy faux hip hop soundtrack that will make you cry. Not to mention the giggling voice overs provided by a pre-Oscar Berry (hover over the animated dog and Berry says “I’m Polly! Tee Hee!”).

And check out Halle’s closet:

I must insist you go to Hallewood right now. Click on everything you can, and lose the entire day digging through the most embarrassing chapter in Halle Berry’s life since Cloud Atlas.

I cannot put my love for The Wayback Machine into words. I’m adding it to my friends list on Pager, and with any luck, you’ll find the kind of happiness we have in the last 48 hours.

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Turban Renewal

February 20th, 2013 · Idiots, Terrible Music

If you were a reader of Regretsy, you may recall my unpleasant interaction with Jacqueline Stallone, perhaps most famous for passing Sylvester’s giant cranium through her withered loins.

At issue was a post I wrote about Rumpology; the sophisticated science of looking at someone’s ass and telling their fortune. Ms. Stallone has been offering this invaluable service for many years, though not exactly as a labor of love. She charges $600 to look at a photo of your blowhole, and really, you could get someone to lick it for that much.

Unfamiliar with the concept of mocking charlatans on the internet, Ms. Stallone responded to my observations with a baseless legal threat:

I’m not sure who she means by “we,” but she’s had so many eye jobs that she probably sees two of everything at this point.

Obviously, September 5, 2011 was the happiest day of my life. It’s not often that you get pretend Cease and Desist orders from luminaries such as Jackie Stallone, and I treasure it as much as the autographed photo of David Caruso that I can’t find. And to put the injectable filler on top of the cake, Jackie posted this thousand word meltdown on HubPages.

Now, admittedly, there is a lot of questionable material for sale on the Internet – at Etsy or anywhere else. However, all people are individuals and there is no accounting for taste. What revolts one person may appeal to others. This is the core of a free market. That is until we meet Ms. Killer, who apparently has decided to set herself up as judge and jury on what is good and what is bad, what people should or should not buy. One is reminded of Ayn Rand’s amazingly over-the-top, blowhard architectural critic character from “The Fountainhead”, Ellsworth Toohey.

See how that goes? You have the right to like or dislike anything being sold to the public, because you are the public, and freedom of choice is the core of a free market!*

*Unless you dislike Jackie Stallone’s ass reading business, in which case you ARE OUT OF LINE, MOTHERFUCKER

Yes, Jackie Stallone is terrifying, I’ll give you that. But I’m about to unleash something even more frightening than an old woman with a face full of poison trying to get you to send her photos of your ass.

You’re about to hear Sylvester Stallone attempt to sing.

Im going to warn you straight off: this is not good. For anyone. These are outtakes from a recording session where Sylvester Stallone gamely tried to make his way through a song called “Comin’ Down With a Bad Case of Love.”

As Sly talkmumblesings, “I can feel it growing inside me.”

I’m not sure what it is, but I think its malignant.

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