Toyota Six Feet Under

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It’s ridiculous! First the accelerator sticks and now the brakes don’t work. Enough with the hollow apologies and hokey whoopsie-doo-baby-made-a boom-boom commercials, alright? We expect more. We didn’t collectively kill our auto industry for shoddy workmanship and unreliability. If we wanted that we could have just bought a Buick. I mean it is a Japanese company. Shouldn’t a couple of those execs be falling on their swords, literally? See that’s the problem. We need to bring back good old-fashioned Samurai ethics. I guarantee that the impending threat of hara-kiri would get ole Akio to personally double check those vroom-vroom pedals and stop-stop pads before they left the assembly line for our crumbling pot-holed highways.

Lucky this didn’t come to light five years ago or it might have sullied Six Feet Under’s stellar season finale montage (one of the greatest product placements in the history of advertising). Where instead of Claire driving her pristine Prius into a panorama of the great wide open to Sia’s Breathe Me, she’d have floored it directly into an oncoming semi-tractor trailer (due to a jammed gas pedal and ABS failure) ending in the sound of screeching metal and a death-rattling scream. Surely a subdued sewing-up and embalming of little sister Fisher’s mangled corpse by David and Rico, concluding in a tasteful yet somber service, would not have held the same place in our hearts. Continue reading

Punxsutawney Meltdown

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PETA demanded this week that the organizers of Pennsylvania’s Groundhog Day festival replace Punxsutawney Phil with a robotic stand-in.

A disgruntled Phil has steadfastly refused to abdicate his position and be replaced by what he calls a “animatronic fraud”. He has reportedly armed and barricaded himself in his burrow, chittering that he would shoot if he sees “anyone’s motherf*cking shadow” . Recently fathering a litter of six and with unemployment at an all time high in Pennsylvania, the laid-off rodent would be hard pressed to find a job, let alone one with a premium Health Plan for his brood.

Fox’s Barracuda Jumps the Shark

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The end is nigh. Watching Bill Kristol’s Eliza Do-nothing struggle to dress up her red-meat-tea-party talking points in snarkily delivered, barely comprehensible, pseudo-intellectual jargon on Fox News, as she is coaxed by Bill O’Righty like an over-eager poodle pup makes me think this Frankenditz might be the harbinger of the Rapture she’s spent her entire charmed life preparing for (AKA God’s Plan).

I’d rather be exposed to Glenn Beck after a full-blown Healthcare-Is-Fascism hissy fit, eyes streaming crocodile tears, rocking back and forth in the fetal position with his thumb in his mouth and a pool of drool dripping down his moisturized chinny chin-chin (actually high-fructose corn syrup, but it works for the camera) than this former second-string Miss Alaska smarmily playing pretend at punditry.

It’s like being forced to listen to your overzealous eight-year-old niece’s rousing rendition of The Music Man’s Pick a Little, Talk a Little at the Thanksgiving table. As she mangles the song by sputtering and stuttering and over-confidently mugging, going from moderately cute to overly grotesque in the ten minutes it takes for turkey to get cold and the mashed potatoes to grow a hardened crust.

And yet there Sarah is, being paid to spew lukewarm air and mutilate the English language on a national “news” network.

Exhibit A (On Obama’s poll numbers):

I-It was just a matter of time before more of that reflection of the people’s uncomfortable… ness that they feel towards this administration is manifesting in these poll numbers.

What??? How is it possible that she has a degree in broadcast journalism? I mean this is what she is allegedly good at, folks!

Exhibit B (On Harry Reid’s controversial remarks):

I come from a very diverse state. My family is very diverse. I’m married to an Alaskan Native. A lot of us don’t think along those lines that somebody’s skin tone would be criteria for, a-a qualification for the presidency. So his- his thinking and articulating of that that thought was-is quite perplexing, is quite unfortunate and is unacceptable.

I myself have many 1/8th Alaskan Native American friends (like her hubby Todd whose mother is a whole one-quarter Yup’ik). And far be it for me to argue that Alaska is not in fact the poster state for diversity… just as Iran is the poster nation for Zionism. However, I do find her unflagging support for the Tea Bagger Movement, whose fringes so blatantly assert that somebody’s skin tone should be “criteria for, a-a qualification for the presidency”, a tad bothersome.

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2010-01-14-RacistTeabagger.jpgWonder if she’ll be at the keynote address? Fingers crossed.

Man, as if the creepy, self-satisfied croak of ole Spin Lizzy Cheney wasn’t bad enough to bear, Fox had to go and up the ante with this brainless Barracuda. Could it possibly get any worse? Certainly! Let’s not forget that Palin has recently begotten Prejean, opening the floodgates for any bimbo with a bathing suit, baton-twirling act, fully realized implants and a dream. Why, Jason Chaffetz (R-Utah) has already suggested to TMZ (that other bastion of Fair and Balanced reporting) that Prejean could be a serious contender in the political arena, stating that: “[Carrie] has the ability to draw crowds and if she has a strong message to go with that, who knows what she can do? She has star power which can open doors.” Sound familiar? Hey, at least her video footage is mite more interesting to look at.

If George W. Dunderhead has succeeded in lowering the bar for any black-sheep trust-fundian screw-up with a powerful papa in politics to have a clear shot at being leader of the free world, then Sarah has certainly out-limboed the former Commander-in-Puppet by shattering the glass basement for both women and humanity alike.

Good thing Rupert Murdoch snatched her up.

Five Non-Balloon Boy Hoaxes the Media Missed

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1. Buggy Boy: Lancaster’s own little Amish 5-year-old Jebediah Junior’s romp with a cart full of freshly packed pickled preserves ending in a bone-rattling crash into Elder Silas’s windmill. Turns out, the boy was alive and well and hiding in a butter churn. Meanwhile his derelict daddy used the distraction to shave his beard, throw on a contraband pair of dungarees and a Kenny Loggins t-shirt, and skip town. Heading out to the big city of lights with his unbridled dreams of opening an adult-themed quilt shop/lemonade stand. The media missed the boat on this one… because, well, they have no media.

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2. Cabin Boy: Alleged 1994 full-length feature film starring Chris Elliott and David Letterman. Yeah, right!

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3. Tandem Bicycle Twin Girls: Remember the buxom blond stars of the late 80′s Wrigleys Double Your Pleasure Double Mint commercials? They were shown in dueling string bikini’s chewing gum and peddling their double-seated transport carefree across a beautiful boardwalk on a perfect seaside day. Turns out not only were they unrelated (let alone monozygotic) but were actually incapable of masticating and cycling at the same time, due most likely to a combination of eating disorders, cocaine abuse and/or casting couch roughhousing. After a grueling 483 takes and a near-death tragedy involving an imploding saline implant it was finally decided to use a separate shot with two unknown body doubles legs. If you look really close you can see the brunette stubble. The horror….

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4. That Hummer Guy: You know the supposedly really tough cookie with the fu manchu and red doo-rag that blared past you on the way to work, blasting AC/DC’s Who Made Who and spewing tobacc-ee chew juice out of his open driver’s side window onto your freshly washed Honda Accord’s Dash? Well it turns out he was racing home to watch When Harry Met Sally for the 76th time on HBO while he cried on his futon in the fetal position, spooning chunks of Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream into his pained, grimacing, vulnerable, pockmarked mug, pining for any type of real human connection that didn’t end in probation or community service. You just don’t understand him!

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5. Rapture GILF: The runner-up Miss Alaska token GOP crapshoot VP pick who is still taken seriously even though she:

(a) took 6 years and 5 different colleges, to finally graduate–from the University of Idaho for communications-journalism (it shows!) ,
(b) believes human beings and dinosaurs were hanging out by the tar pits 5,000 years ago like in Land of the Lost,
(c) claims to be a champion of family values although her eldest daughter had a child out-of-wedlock on her and her almost meth-in-law’s watch,
(d) is an avid disciple of the Third Wave Movement (which believe that all Christians will re-align under the Fivefold Ministry of Prophets and Apostles and others approved by the Big Bad Kahuna in the sky, while the youth will form “Joel’s Army” to rise up and combat the wicked during the end-of-days…oh and that they will have superpowers), and
(e) was personally prayed over by the Pastor Thomas Muthee (a firm believer in “territorial demonic possession”, that is that geographical locations and populations can become possessed by evil spirits) to protect her from witchcraft (it’s on YouTube folks!).

Nonetheless, she is continuously cited as a spokesperson and leader of the future Republican movement, even after she recently exercised her freedom of choice to abort her governorship before it came to full-term cause other people no play nice with her :(

Oh wait, I guess the media is in on that one….

Starschmucks Folly: VIA, the Instant New Coke

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You could put lipstick on a pig, but…

So it seems that Starbucks, the U.S. brewing behemoth, has decided to hawk an upscale version of Folger’s Crystals (currently gathering dust at the back of your out-of-touch nattering Nana’s pantry), but don’t you dare display your displeasure whilst within the immediate vicinity of one of their brainwashed baristas, or be prepared for a barrage of inane talking points and propaganda rivaling Liz Cheney’s blind backing of enhanced interrogation techniques. I’m not sure what remedial reprogramming retreat these poor part-timers were forced to attend, but it was apparently led by that murderous maenad Maryanne from True Blood or a direct descendent of Jim Jones ’cause there is zero room for dissension. Resistance is futile. You simply must drink the Kool-Aid… or neo-Sanka swill.

Is it somehow surprising that the franchise’s base of upscale liberal lefty latte-guzzling pseudo-intellects, who pride ourselves on being caffeination connoisseurs, might be a mite perturbed over the prospect of having a white-trash product pimped to us while trying to get our five o’clock fix and recharge our iPhones? We aren’t brewing up a batch of crystal meth in the bathroom units of our double-wides, looking for a quick-fix beverage to wash down our derelict dinner of Cheez-Whiz and Ritz Crackers for Cletis’s sake! Give it a rest; we don’t want to take your stupid taste test! We don’t care if this isn’t our grandfather’s instant coffee, it reminds us of our grandfather (who was last spotted hollering about health care at a town hall meeting due to a combination of dementia and Glenn Beck).

We have already agreed to pay three dollars for a cup of coffee. You’ve won. Don’t insult our intelligence by trying to get us to pledge allegiance to an inferior un-brewed commercialized commodity conceived by some snotty young marketing exec fresh out of grad school with plans for cutting losses by diversifying your elitist appeal to the general populace. Talk about watering down your “brand”. It was bad enough when you started in with that awful homogenized Pike’s Peak to compete with the Dunkin’ Donut’s demographic and their pansy palates. And let’s not forget those putrid pre-manufactured breakfast sandwiches (re-heated in those creepy gray cancer-causing ovens) prominently featured in your fly-ridden refrigerated display cases–yummers!

But for the coup de grace, it’s hard to believe your insolent insistence upon undermining the entire foundation of your existence: freshly ground, percolated C. Arabica that we pay a premium for you to prepare. Something authentic to be ingested and savored as we make our way through another impersonal, cyber-connected, pre-fabricated day. The churning in our stomachs, the burning in our bowels, the bing! bing! bing! of when it finally kicks in and everything is ok in the universe again. Gradual descent into despair transforms into rocketing ascent into possibility, hope and “what if?” Why would you want to dilute that?

Palin Supports Corsi: District 9 Is a Documentary

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Jerome Corsi (author of NY Times bestseller’s The Obama Nation, Unfit for Command and the lesser known Kucinich: Satanic Vegan Fetus Molester) recently gave the former Alaskan governess a glimpse of his latest magnum opus revealing that the sleeper hit of the summer is not merely a Hollywood rags-to-riches blockbuster but actual live footage.

In it he ties the Obama Administration to the Prawns and lays out the president’s diabolical plans to transport them from their Johannesburg tent ghettos to brand spanking new little neo-Hooverville/Slumdog USA shantytowns that have been popping up all around the continental United States. Once adequately settled in and properly provided with specially subsidized cat-food stamps he alleges they will immediately be given green cards and made to serve as abortion technicians, death panelists and journalists for the non-yellow, fact-checking, reality-based, lefty, liberal mainstream media.

Worst of all their advanced weapon caches will be destroyed in an ongoing effort to leave us defenseless and ensure our surrender to a future Muslim theocracy run out of Iran and forcing good, decent, hard-working American citizens to follow the heathen laws of Sharia (forever clothing our supermodels, ending the era of the pulled pork sandwich and consequently bankrupting the Gilette corporation in the process).

An indignant Palin immediately released a series of searing Facebook status updates denouncing the impending alien immigrant infestation as “icky” and “un-American,” and questioning why such respected institutional publications such as The New York Times and The Washington Post were so quick to give the “film” such stellar reviews (while she doesn’t actually read the papers she does check Metacritic). Soon after she tweeted she was feeling “crankums” and hoped Todd would get home already to watch Trig so she could relax by field-dressing a moose (that she had recently sportingly shot down with a semi-automatic from an Apache helicopter), splurge on a long overdue mani-pedi and continue her never-ending preparations to ready the family’s fall-out shelter for the impending Apocalypse (a little insurance–just in case the good Lord judges them unfit during the Rapture in Alaska and they are forced to live amongst the outcast).

Liz Cheney, Sen. Charles Grassley and Sen.Tom Coburn also refused to contest Corsi’s allegations when appearing most recently on Lou Dobbs Tonight (where the host beat Glenn Beck’s crying jag world record by intermittingly wailing and sobbing throughout the live broadcast concerning the alleged alien alien invasion). Coburn (supporter of recent Birther legislation) also announced he is rallying the GOP to support a bill that will “keep those born and/or evolved outside of this galaxy outside our great nation”.

Liz Cheney: Favorite Pretty Princess (VIDEO)

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Written and Performed by Ann Carr
Filmed and Directed by Warren Holstein