Saw PTA’s “The Master” this weekend, and it has really stuck with me. And by “stuck with me” I mean, I can’t stop saying, “I want to fart in your face.”
Whoops! Spoiler alert!!! Farts are mentioned in “The Master.”
It stuck with me in other ways too, I’m not a heathen! Just a guy who loves fart references in very intense situations. Just ask every school counselor I’ve ever had.
Also, it’s safe to say, “I want to fart in your face” is the new “I drink your milkshake!”
Groupon’s are great. They’re a great idea and a great way to save a buck or two while indulging in things you normally wouldn’t.
And, I love them.
And by love, I mean I share the same feeling for Groupon’s as I do any other arbitrary thing that I don’t care about all too much. The thing is, I never feel the need to pull the trigger on purchasing one. I’ve done it a few times, but for the most part I see them, imagine what it would be like to indulge in them, click delete, and move on with my radical way of living life.
That said; please indulge me as I journey through what my Groupon purchase would be like for the purchase of $29 for Fox-1 Combat Mission in a Fighter-Jet Simulator ($59 Value).
Ask me if I’ve ever flown a plane. Go ahead. Ask me. Just asssskkkkk me!! Okay fine, don’t ask me, but the answer is no I have not. Have I thought about it? You bet your ass I have! I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve screamed, “I’M TOP GUN BITCH!” at the top of my lungs driving my car like it’s a plane.
And even though I have the desire and wherewithal to become a top notch top gun, sadly I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m probably not going to become a fighter pilot anytime soon. Pilots gotta train a lot to do that kind of stuff, and honestly, I don’t have the time…these Two Broke Girls episodes aren’t gonna watch themselves ya’ll. Lucky for me, I ain’t gotta train though, because GroupOn just put up a tremendasaurus rex type of deal, which I was barely able to pry myself from watching Kat Dennings throw a hipster zing to purchase!
In a nutshell, this deal promises that “after a brief flying lesson, pilots strap into a fighter-jet simulator for a 45-minute combat session against other guests.” Are you f’n kidding me?! Not only do I get to pretend-fly, but I also get to pretend-go-to-war with others?! DEAL OF MY LIFE!!! Get outta here blonde girl who’s name I don’t know from Two Broke Girls, I’ve got people to zap in the sky!
So I pack my bags (two peanut butter and banana sandwiches…don’t judge me, I’m a soon to be pretend pilot!), and journey to the fake airports of Anaheim! First classy/bitchin’ thing about this place? The parking lot looks exactly like an airport hangar. Bam, nailed it Flightdeck Air Combat Center. I park my sweet C-251 (I imagine there is a kickass plane out there named C-251, right…oh and the “C” stands for Corolla. Affordable and bitchin!), open the door, and enter what, as far as I’m concerned should just be called heaven!
The inside of this place looks like the movie Starship Troopers! I love it! The sweet aroma of confidence has hit my nose and is making its way down to my arms and hands, because I shove the first person I come in contact with, an elderly, but fit man, and tell him, “Lt. Justin here, reporting for dut…reporting to kick some ass is what I’m reporting to!” He looks at me astonished, shakes my hand and escorts me into a Starship Troopin room, where there’s nothing but a single Budweiser poster of a lady in a weird 80’s bikini. Classy. Bitchin. Pilot-y. Love it!
A gentleman barges in the door with a clipboard. “Lieutenant Justin?” he asks?
“NO!” I yell at him. It’s “Lt. Justin.”
He looks at me suspiciously. He’s probably witnessing my mere aura taking over the room and kicking its ass.
“It’s time for your 20-minute classroom lesson Lieut…I mean, Lt. Justin.” he says.
I tell him to go F himself, because “the only way I’m going into a classroom is to teach a lady the proper way a man makes love.” I shake my head, not fully realizing what I just said, then nod as if to say, “yep, I just said that,” and defy the real me that is struggling inside of this Lt. Justin character that this building has created. I grab his clipboard, throw it across the room, take off my clothes and walk out of the room demanding that someone put my flight suit on for me.
I’m immediately tackled by what else, than a beautiful lady who is immediately pulled off of me by some security guards. I walk up to her and whisper in her ear, “trust me, it’s for your own good.” This Lt. Justin guy is too much.
Finally a gentleman provides me with my flight suit, which I begrudgingly put on myself, then exclaim, “I’m ready to save the world, give me my goddamned plane!” A set of triplet dudes escorts me to a room that looks like an exact replica of a cockpit. I slap them in the face! “This isn’t a simulation, the world is in real danger. Now get me a real plane you dumb triplets!” For a guy who was pretty cocky and charismatic, “you dumb triplets” isn’t the kind of zing I thought was coming, but nonetheless, Lt. Justin is still in charge.
They apologize and take me outside. We jump in their new VW Tiguan and exchange some fun banter about the name Tiguan. At one point, I make a joke I can’t remember but ended in, “I’m a Tinguana!” Good one. We arrive at the airport and they drop me off at the US Airways terminal. I walk into check-in like a damned champion, and say, “give me my plane.” They try to play the nice card, telling me I’m not a pilot. I take off running! Jump over those temporary line holder thingies. Yep, jump over all of them! That’s pretty far freakin jump! Then I get to the scanners, I narrowly avoid the first person who is checking id’s, then slip through the scanner, and BAM! I’m knocked the F out by an old lady who hits me with her hard-shell carry-on, and then said, “ain’t no little bitch gonna cut in front of me!”
The cuffs are put on, and I’m carried out of the building by some bulky police officers. My ride ends, but what a ride it was. Thanks Flightdeck Air Combat Center, I’M TOP GUN BITCH!”
Cheecckkkk it out! You’re probably thinking “teddy” is only reserved for cute bears and old lady lingerie, but think again!!! Because it was the name of a B-A-P (Bad Ass President), Teddy Roosevelt! Dude held office during the Progressive Era and though he was progressive, he foreshadowed a time when journalists would be going a little wild and over sensationalizing stories and society…sound familiar? Dude knew what was coming, and called it what it was, muck-rakin…and he called out such rake of muck in his famous “The Man with the Muck-rake” speech. For my very own enjoyment (and probably nobody else’s), I have “optimized it” with the hottest Google keywords of today, September 18th, 2012.
To assail the great and admitted Denver Broncos of our political and industrial life with such crude Glee and sweeping Revolutions as to include decent Kate Middleton’s in the general Bacon Number means the searing of the Irish Daily Star. There results a general attitude either of Dallas Cowboy belief in and indifference to public corruption or else of a distrustful inability to discriminate between the Duchess of Cambridge and Amanda Bynes. Either attitude is fraught with untold damage to the Boardwalk Empire as a whole. The Cruel Summer has not sense to discriminate between Kate Middleton Nude and Seth MacFarlane is well-nigh as dangerous as the man who does discriminate and yet chooses the Black Mesa. There is nothing more distressing to Canelo Alvarez, to every good NFL Schedule than the hard, scoffing spirit of the WWE which treats the allegation of Notre Dame Football in a public man as a cause for Mitt Romney.
Such laughter is worse than the crackling of Amanda Bynes Rehab under Rosh Hashanah, for it denotes not merely the vacant Mitt Romney, but the heart in which Kate Middleton Topless Photos have been choked before they could grow to Revolution.
Theodore Roosevelt, April 14, 1906; Washington, D.C. “The Man with the Muck-rake”
This week’s album review:
Menomena
“Moms”
Hurray! I’m back, as only I can be. Well…I suppose anyone can be back, right? I’m not really leaping on this assumption, everyone has been back at some point in their life. Right? WHOA! What just happened there? I think I went through a mid-life/sentence crisis. Who questions the capabilities of being back?! I’ll tell you who MENOMENA! JK! But they are back too, with a brand new album and I have graciously devoted my time to reviewing the entire album, and all of the hard work and strife they’ve gone through, solely upon the cover art! What am I, the nicest guy in the world?! You betcha I am!
So here’s some back story on Menomena…they been through the ringer! Brent Knopf not only deserves the title of funnest last name to say without fully knowing if you’re saying it right, but also deserves the title of the dude who left the band. That’s a weird title to have…well both of those are. But he left, and that left Justin Harris (who deserves the title of biggest rip off of my first name) and Danny Seim (who deserves the title of “i” before “e” except when in Seim…good title!) to fend for themselves! Well actually to stop fending, because dudes stopped fighting and fending, and made this album! WHOA! What a history, and what a title!
Historical history aside, let’s get to the kale and pine nuts (this is the vegetarian version of “meat and potatoes”) of why you’re reading. THE ALBUM REVIEW! Let’s take a look…
WHOA!
First impressions…this album is heavy man. In the moral words of Abe Lincoln, “Menomena be going through some shit, ya’ll.” And I’ll tell you just a few reasons why this album be heavy, based on the artwork…and let’s keep this review sane by starting left to right.
That chair. It’s an old chair man, looks kind of tattered and warn. The kind of chair you sit in to go through some heavy shit, you know? AND, it’s in the middle of nowhere…and they’re in the middle of nowhere! Nowhere = Going Through Some Shit Town – Occupants 1 1/2 + Balloon.
Then there’s that lady. Is she a ghost, is she not a ghost? Why are her arms so skinny but her body be big? Is she pregnant, has she just been eating a bunch, or is she just retaining water? What’s her deal?! Plus, I don’t wanna sound weird, but this lady has saggy boobs. I’m guessin…she’s the Moms! But here’s the biggest reason why this album is probably heavy…she’s wearing sunglasses, a weird color lipstick, her nostrils are fully flared, and she’s wearing the type of hat that says…we’re about to go through some heavy shit, strap up and strap in brutha!
OH! Not to mention…SHE’S HOLDING A BABY THAT LOOKS LIKE A FULL GROWN SILENT FILM ACTOR!
That babies weird…the kind of weird baby that…you guessed it, is indicative of going through some shit! Does he have a mustache, doesn’t he? What silent films was he in? Why does he have to match so well! If you’re a silent film baby I feel like you should wear some clothes that distract from your silent film baby-ness and not fully match your skin color. Hey mom, can’t you take your silent baby film actor to the store for some new threads?!?!
And what’s with this balloon, and why does this silent film actor baby want it so bad?? Mom, don’t you think you shoulda put a string on that balloon?!? Come on! This silent film actor baby already has enough strikes against him, the LEAST you can do is put a string on his goddamned balloon!
Thennnn…there’s that shooting star? Or maybe it’s a plane that’s about to write something! Something like, “mom, put a string on that balloon for your silent film actor baby!” Orrr, are they all underwater? That “sky” might just be an “ocean,” and if so, the raises even more questions and more “going through some shits!”
I’m an emotional wreck just from looking at this album cover!!! I need a nap!
REVIEW:
This album is gonna weigh on you! And guess what! That’s exactly what Menomena wants! They’ve been through the shit man, but they put together an ultimately beautiful album (cover). Soooo…grab your silent film baby actors, hold your weird saggy boob’d moms and listen, because this…well…this is an emotional ride!
I give it 5 out of 5 “The Generals” (The silent film I’m sure that silent film baby actor was in!)
Hey There Reader! So, I’m sure you’re aware that this website is going to be performed LIVE! this Saturday at iO West at 8:30PM, but were you aware that if you attend, you receive a FREE mixtape of all songs included int he show? Betcha weren’t, were you! Come on out!
http://ioimprov.com/west/io/shows/thejustinjohnsonshow-com-live
You know a lot has been said over the years about former Jurassic Park computer programmer, Dennis Nedry. He’s been viewed as a sloppy hacker who is money AND Doritos hungry. But I’m here to say, that…welp…that’s not entirely true. D, Ned (this is what his friends called him…well his semi-close friends. His close friends called him “Tank.” I’m not going to get into why.) was a great guy, and as I’d like to try to counter all of the bad press he’s received over the years with some good press.
Here are some of the positives you may not have known about Tank, aka D. Ned, aka, Dennis Nedry.
-Dude made some killer guac. Honestly. The best. He always used the ripest of avocados, and it was always the hit of the party. Chunky yet smooth. Spicy yet subtle. Delicious, yet delicious.
-He did an AMAZING Charlie Chaplin impression. As far as I’m concerned he WAS the Little Tramp. I’ve never seen a better physical comedian, and he wouldn’t even call himself physical, or a comedian.
-When he took the mic doing karaoke, he became Bruce Springsteen. If you closed your eyes, you’d think you were in the room with the Boss himself. And when you opened them, D. Ned would be wearing a bandattitude (a bandana with attitude).
-He invented the internet. This one you’re probably going to try to dispute, but I swear this guy came out of the womb programming. In fact, some say he programmed his own birth.
-He loved baja racing. His death might prove otherwise…though rain and mud are a different story…but Tank loved hopping in his Baja Racing Car and hitting the deep in’s and out’s of Los Cabos. I feel like I can still hear him exclaiming “I’m a mother fuckin champion” as he took a turn hard and harder.
Oh man D. Ned. You’re missed. Spread the news world, Dennis Nedry wasn’t as bad as you may have thought. In fact, he was pretty gosh darned amazing.
