If you're like me, you walk away from each new Pixar film screaming, "Holy fuck! That was the best Pixar movie ever!" (Well, let's all just agree to ignore Cars for the duration of this blog post, shall we?) I'm not entirely sure if Pixar actually keeps topping itself—I think it's just that Pixar films are so overwhelmingly astonishing in their storytelling, thematic, and technical craft that it's hard to think about anything else except for the movie at hand, at least for a little while.

I just saw Up with Mama Gomolvilas, and I have to say: "Holy fuck! That was the best Pixar movie ever!" (I cleaned up my language around mom, though.)

This story of how a geriatric curmudgeon flies over continents in a floating house powered by helium-filled balloons, with a rotund stowaway Asian kid in tow, has all the things you'd expect from Pixar: big laughs, real tears, lovable characters, and stunning visuals.

But what thrills me the most about Pixar movies is that the filmmakers take very simple themes and riff off them, like fine jazz musicians, revealing new and sublime layers of complexity. The basic message of Up has to do with how the pursuit of our dreams may seem important (after all, that's one of the things America is all about, isn't it?), but it's our relationships with other people that shape and contribute to our lives in sometimes mysterious and mostly unquantifiable ways that even the fulfillment of a lifelong wish cannot match. Cram all that into the image of a man carrying his house (his American dream) on his back, while you draw parallels to the current recession, and you've got heady stuff for a cartoon.

What's additionally satisfying about Up is how quietly revolutionary it is. While all Pixar efforts are really for adults but come in the disguise of kids' films, Up one-ups that act of trickery by making an elderly man (voiced by Ed Asner) and an Asian-American boy (voiced by Jordan Nagai, below) its main heroes. In a culture where old age is feared and where ethnic minorities still struggle for representation, Up delivers a pair of delightful and complex role models for people who had given up on the notion that anyone gives a fuck.



(Note: I had it on good authority that seeing Up in 3-D was not a necessity. So I didn't. And I loved it anyway. Just so you know.)

(By the way, all this comes after me seeing Drag Me to Hell a couple days ago, where foreigners and the foreign-looking are demonized or exoticized and surround the film's white heroine and hero like a gang of crazies. Now I don't want to come across as one of those militant paranoid liberal nutjobs [you know who you are], but didn't anyone else notice how the evil hag was Eastern European; the duplicitous bank rival was Asian American; the strange psychic was Southeast Asian; the tormented ghost medium was Latina; and the demon was first introduced to the audience through a panicky Mexican family? No, it's not protest-worthy or anything, and I don't think this was intentional, but is it not my duty to pay attention to such things? ISN'T IT?!)

So, dear readers, what's your favorite Pixar movie and why? And does anybody out there want to defend Cars, which I have never managed to get through?

new york phone service

"No, no," you will cry, "this movie trailer can't possibly be real!" But, oh, it is real. And it stars both Lorenzo Lamas and Debbie Gibson. Yes, that Debbie Gibson. Watch:



[Courtesy of MK.]

Okay, so for what seems like a couple years now, people have been inserting shots of Fasto, The Keyboard Cat (see earlier post), into totally unrelated videos. At the end of each of these videos, Keyboard Cat "plays them off." There's a whole site dedicated to the mash-ups: go here, if you must.

In one of the more recent mash-up videos, which didn't seem to be on the aforementioned site, a guy gets chewed out by his father and mother for crying on his webcam before Fasto plays him out. Watch:



[Courtesy of Golfwidow and Will Blank.]

A German financial institution named Bontrust recently revealed a cool animated commercial that starts out cute, but ends up nasty. Really really nasty. Watch:



[Courtesy of MK.]

To truly appreciate one of the videos that I will be posting later this week, you must be familiar with the following oldie but goodie. For those of you who have not seen it yet, it's a cat named Fasto, who very adeptly plays jazz piano. Watch:



I, on the other hand, can barely play the kazoo, as some audiences have witnessed. But enthusiasm counts for something, right?

[Courtesy of Gabriel Fleming.]

In case you missed it, Susan Boyle made her second appearance on Britain's Got Talent over the weekend, after she wowed the world last month. Her rendition of "Memory" from Cats gets off to a rocky start, but she quickly recovers and whips the crowd into a frenzy once more. Watch:



Hmm. What say you?

The reason why the High School Musical movies grate on many people's nerves is because of their sheer earnestness, their irony-free commitment to the task at hand: entertaining tweens and hypnotizing them into buying tie-in merchandise. It takes someone like me to come along and turn the franchise into the inside joke that Disney never intended. (Read this, this, and this, for example.)

Glee, a new TV series that recently premiered on Fox and that can be viewed for free right now on Hulu, is blissfully self-aware. (It was created by Ryan Murphy, who's responsible for Nip/Tuck.) Glee is about a diverse set of outcasts—the nerd in a wheelchair, the flamboyant gay kid, the big black girl, the quiet Asian chick, the Latina (?) diva, the hot jock with the voice of gold—who join their high school's glee club to make sweet music, while enduring the inevitable ridicule of their peers. The audience is encouraged to make fun of these students and root for them at the same time, a balancing act that the cast pulls off with, well, glee. And it's all framed by one of those inspirational teacher storylines that actually works because of a charming performance by Matthew Morrison, the Spanish teacher who wants to relive his own glee club glory days by leading this lovable band of losers.

Check out the trailer. Watch:



And the musical numbers? Stellar. The pilot episode culminates in a superb rendition of Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." See? Simultaneously cheesy and rockin'.

For those of you who don't mind a big-ass spoiler, here's that Journey number, which is the end of the episode. (The track is also available on iTunes, I believe.) Watch:



Finally, I must admit that it's time to kick Zac Efron out of bed. While his HSM3 shower scene never made it into the final cut, Glee boldly includes a scene featuring the aforementioned hot jock, played by Cory Monteith, belting REO Speedwagon under a shower head while soaping himself down. Be still my beating crotch! Zac is a boy; Cory is a man. A MAN!

Watch the pilot episode for free.

The series picks up in the fall.

I have not seen a commencement speech as funny, moving, personal, and inspirational as this one. Here, Ellen DeGeneres address the 2009 graduating class of Tulane University. It's a bit longer than the videos I usually post here, but you'll savor every minute. Watch:



[Courtesy of The Bilerico Project.]

I've got a dozen blog topics or so that I haven't gotten around to writing about yet, but let me kill three birds with one stone by grouping three separate items under the Hot Pieces of Ass banner.

• After getting busted for sucking on a bong and receiving a three-month suspension from the only thing he loves more than women who embrace opposite marriage (swimming), Michael Phelps is back in action this month. No, I'm not talking about his swim meet in North Carolina. I'm talking about more half-naked photos!



• You would think that being a gay porn star would afford you lots of respect. (Well, from me, at least.) But if you're "Vincent DeSalvo" (actually, 22-year-old John Gechter), you're going to get kicked out of Grove City College, a Christian school, because they don't like it when you put your mouth on certain things and insert certain other things into your rear. In other words, they don't like it when you have gay sex on camera for money like a whore. Want the whole story? Read "Amateur Porn Star's Threeway Gets Him Suspended From Christian College." Want totally not-safe-for-work stills and a video preview of him in action? Here you go. Want to take a look at his arty maybe-safe-for-work modeling photos? Here. Want to read a great sympathetic interview with him, where he explains how students responded at school ("Kids were throwing food at me in the cafeteria. I got 150 hate e-mails.")? Here. Oh, Vincent, you're too hot for that Christian college anyway.



• Okay. Those boys are naughty! So leave it up to the Asians to live up to the model minority stereotype by being hot with no naughty strings attached. Asia Pacific Arts recently published "APA Top Ten: Hot Asian Actors Hollywood Doesn't Yet Realize It Needs." Glaring omission though: ME! But they make up for it by linking to a video of Daniel Henney eating ice cream while a cover version of Hanson's "Mmm Bop" plays in the background. Uh, yeah, seriously. Watch:

You know how much I love Craig Ferguson. How can I not? The man dances and lip-syncs to Britney Spears's "Oops, I Did It Again," while a white guy in a bondage outfit, a black guy in a white suit, and four blinged-out animal puppets dance with him! Watch:

The final moments of Season Seven of 24 (now available on DVD!) was met with mild groans of disappointment at the 24 Season Finale Pizza Party here in my apartment last night, which was a surprise since everyone has been loving this season with the fervor of a crack ho who's just been offered a free hit. (FYI: Richie Palmer Pizzeria: Best. Pizza. Ever. Locations in Glendale, Santa Monica, and a few select places around the country. Read more about it here.) So I must leap into action to point out all the great things about this season's final two hours:

[BEGIN SPOILERS]

• I was the first to roll my eyes when the Kim-is-going-to-get-kidnapped-again subplot emerged a few episodes ago. But this storyline thankfully didn't get dragged out, and it resolved itself pretty quickly by unleashing an airport gun battle that was one of the action highlights of the year. Then, Kim delightfully turned badass after yelling "dammit!," chased down her would-be captor, made his car flip over, and caused him to burn to death. (The straight guys at my party also appreciated the fact that, when Kim ran, there was plenty of jiggle action.... Pigs!) People tend to snicker at Kim's appearances, but I think she found sweet redemption last night.

• Not only did Olivia Taylor get her much-deserved comeuppance, it's facilitated by her mother, the President of the United States, who turned Olivia into the authorities for her evil deeds. And Olivia's downfall was initiated by Aaron Pierce and Ethan Kanin, working together with determination and grace. Yes, Olivia Taylor was a real bitch, and it was fun to see her go down.
  

• Chloe and Janice's final bittersweet exchange.

• Jack's terrific speech about torture and consequences to a crying Renee.

• Tony's crazy-mad justification for going bad.

• Jack's quiet moments with a Muslim holy man.

• Alan Wilson's cocky half-smile.

• Renee wrestling with her conscience, handcuffing Janice, and deciding to beat the shit out of Alan Wilson...or did she?

• The source of the pizza party groans, I believe, was because this season did not end on a cliffhanger or a final twist. Instead, it offered a bit of closure, which, in itself, is a big surprise. In a season full of wild turns, multiple conspiracies, and horrible deaths, I think it was a good (and satisfying) choice to end on a period rather than a dot dot dot.
  

[END SPOILERS]

There's much more to come, of course, when Season Eight (the final season?) begins next January. For those of you who want to catch up on Season Seven on DVD, do it now before I start dropping spoilers without warning!

I've been scriptwriting like crazy, so blog posts will be light this week. But I just had to emerge briefly to bring you Whack-a-Kitty. At 1 minute and 33 seconds, I thought this one-joke video was a bit on the long side after the first few laughs, but, if you let it play long enough, it lulls you into sublime submission and makes you beg for more. Watch:

The following movie trailer is for a real film that is currently available on DVD. It's called Tiptoes, and you will swear up and down that this Matthew McConaughey/Kate Beckinsale flick must be some kind of joke, some sketch on SNL or something, but I'm telling you this is real. Even the part where the announcer says, "And in the role of a lifetime...Gary Oldman." Watch:



[Thanks to Gabriel Fleming for sending me this.]

After Diego Luna and Gael Garcia Bernal's delightfully ribald antics in Y Tu Mamá También (a movie that is simultaneously a work of art and a continued source of spank material), the prospect of a big screen reunion of these real-life Mexican actor friends pumped me full of wide-eyed anticipation (and pumped me elsewhere as well). And holy fuck, Rudo y Cursi, the funny and sad and joyous debut film from Carlos Cuarón (who co-wrote Y Tu Mamá with his brother, Alfonso, that film's director) really delivers.

This story of two hick-ish half-brothers' rise to soccer stardom in Mexico give Luna and Bernal the opportunity to paint a hilarious yet heartbreaking portrait of sibling rivalry—not quite as fierce as Cain and Abel, but sparks do fly, Telemundo-style. As delirious and absurd as Rudo and Cursi's quick ascent to sports stardom is, the movie doesn't deliver one false note, instead offering us characters who may wear their hearts on their sleeves but possess hidden depths—layers of complexity that say as much about family and human nature as they do about money, fame, and the gifts and curses that come with having dreams.



And for all you fellow perverts out there, Rudo y Cursi contains two locker room shower scenes that will have you swooning for weeks.

By the way, take a look at the original version of the movie poster (top) and the American version (bottom). See the difference? (Click to enlarge.) Man, we live in a country of prudes.




Finally, Rudo y Cursi is in no way a "gay" movie, but, as you know, I have a knack for turning anything gay. But for an actual gay soccer-themed film, try the 2004 German comedy, Guys & Balls, available on DVD. I wrote about it last year.

Ever since I told Jake and Will about the wonderfully lucrative world of video contests, those bitches have already racked up over $11,000 in contest winnings! I am, of course, expecting a healthy cut, which I will collect in the currency of naked male flesh. Please make a note of it. And please make a note of one of the best videos of the bunch: a terrifically amusing music video for the goofy and environmentally friendly song, "My Girl, the World," by Eric Frank. Watch:

I wrote a new post for The Bilerico Project.



Read "The Next Great Gay Dance Anthem: Ben Lee's 'Boy With a Barbie.'"

After Wanda Sykes's fierce comedy routine at the White House Correspondents' Dinner this past weekend, she came under immediate fire for her comments about Rush Limbaugh being the 20th hijacker during 9/11 and about how she wished his kidneys would fail.

So supposedly offensive were her remarks that the White House held a press conference to distance the administration from her. I can understand the conservative outrage, but what did the White House expect, really, when they tapped her for the gig in the first place? She's Wanda freaking Sykes. Was Jay Leno unavailable?

I found this great blog post from A. Serwer on Tapped:

Wanda Sykes' comedy routine at the White House Correspondent's Dinner was really offensive. In it, Sykes suggested that conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh is supported by Hamas, and that Islamists are "constantly issuing Limbaugh talking points." She joked about terrorists supporting conservatives in general, suggesting that recent violent events in Iraq are attempts by terrorists to swing the upcoming midterm elections in favor of Republicans.

Then she got really personal. She joked that Limbaugh was a racist who doesn't want black people to "escap[e] the underclass." She accused him of being responsible for killing "a million babies a year," and aired her friend's theory that Limbaugh himself was a terrorist attack," a followup to 9/11. She also, most disgustingly, said that if conservatives kept apologizing to Limbaugh, they'd eventually contract "anal poisoning." She wondered when Republicans would finally stop "bending over and grabbing their ankles" for Limbaugh, and finally concluded that Limbaugh was just a "bad guy."

Oh wait. Wanda Sykes didn't say any of these things. These are things Rush Limbaugh has said about Obama or other Democrats in the past year, the kind of statements few reporters found offensive enough to write about, despite the fact that most of them were said with the utmost seriousness. And while Sykes is a mere comedian whose influence on the Democratic Party is negligible, Limbaugh's influence in the party is so great that Republican leaders can't even criticize him without having to issue apologies after the fact.

A big squirrel jumps a wall. A baby squirrel can't do the same. The big squirrel tries to teach the baby squirrel how to do it right. But the baby squirrel is just too small. Humans lend a helping hand without meddling with the natural order of things too much. We all triumph. The following video is a little on the long side (four minutes sans credits), but there's something sweet about the purity of it all. Watch:



Hope nobody got rabies.

[Thanks to Superbadfriend for sending me this.]

I haven't blogged about The Celebrity Apprentice all season because, since my friends react to my addiction to the show with disdain, I assume nobody else watches it and nobody else cares. But fuck it. The original seasons of The Apprentice, its two celebrity seasons, and even the U.K. version have given me so much joy that I want to shout my love off of rooftops.

Because I was on a writing deadline last night, I couldn't see the epic live 3-hour season finale of The Celebrity Apprentice in real time, so I had to watch it later and was up until 3 a.m., witnessing comedian Joan Rivers go head-to-head with poker champion Annie Duke. Man, my blood boiled any time Annie came on screen all season long, so I was rooting for Joan all the way.

Before this season of Celebrity Apprentice, I didn't really have an opinion about Joan, but this 75-year-old tough mother (refreshingly candid and jokey about her own plastic surgery) is now adored by me, and, goddamn, I'm so happy she won.

Their final boardroom showdown is one for the history books. And, as vicious as the attacks get, my favorite part is when Annie says, "For six boardrooms, I sat here and acted professional," and Joan corrects her by emphatically declaring, "Professional-ly." Ha ha ha ha ha! Watch:



Perhaps the most memorable scene all season was the firing of Melissa Rivers (Joan's daughter), who had a complete meltdown, who yelled at producers with fury, who refused to do the customary post-firing interview, and who lashed out at her competitors by calling them "whore pit vipers." For giving the world that phrase alone, the show should be praised. Think of someone you despise. Scream out "whore pit viper!" Don't you feel better now?

Melissa's meltdown was such great television that Entertainment Weekly even reported about it. And, yes, there is video available. Watch:



Alas, the show has been renewed for 2010. Bring on the whore pit vipers!

In the history of comedians at the annual White House Correspondents' Dinner, nothing will rival the jaw-dropping brilliance of Stephen Colbert's relentless skewering of George Bush in 2006. Hurling a series of no-holds-barred criticisms and sharp insults—while Bush could do nothing more than sit and watch—Colbert's performance was a sublime act of comic genius. (If you haven't seen it before, watch here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.)

While no subsequent Correspondents' Dinner can ever be as memorable, Wanda Sykes did a bang-up job this past weekend, delivering 15 minutes of feisty political comedy that reminded me of why I love her so much. Watch:



And the rest of performance is here:



My favorite bits:

• "I know Governor Palin—she's not here tonight. She pulled out at the last minute.... You know, somebody should tell her that's not really how you practice abstinence." After the audience reacts uncomfortably, Sykes quips, "Ah, shut up, you're gonna be telling that one tomorrow."

• "Rush Limbaugh, one of your big critics, boy, Rush Limbaugh said he hopes this administration fails. You know, so you're saying, 'I hope America fails.' It's like, 'I don't care about people losing their homes or their jobs, our soldiers in Iraq.' He just wants the country to fail. To me, that's treason. He's not saying anything differently than what Osama bin Laden is saying. You know, you might want to look into this, sir, because I think maybe Rush Limbaugh was the 20th hijacker, but he was just so strung out on Oxycotin he missed his flight...." That probably got the biggest reaction of the night.
  

• "Dick Cheney, oh my god, he's a scary man. Scares me to death. I tell my kids, I said, 'Look, if two cars pull up and one has a stranger and the other car has Dick Cheney, you get in the car with the stranger."

[Thanks to The Bilerico Project for posting the videos.]

I saw Star Trek last night at the Arclight in Hollywood, where a theater full of geeks experienced simultaneous orgasms repeatedly for two hours. Seriously. It smelled like bleach in there.

I am not a Trekkie. In fact, anytime a Star Trek-related anything appears on my TV screen, I dive for the ground as if I'm throwing myself on a hand grenade to save a battalion. This is something I have to do often. Loren, you see, has a tendency to fill up the DVR hard drive with episodes of Next Generation, which should be expected since he does own an Enterprise uniform and a phaser. I don't know who should be more embarrassed—he or I.

Anyway, going to the new Star Trek was part of Alyssa C.'s birthday party, so it's been on my calendar for weeks. I wrote it down as "Star Blecchh" and have been calling it "Dork Trek" around anybody who will listen.

This is a good movie.

But I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about the fact that Tyler Perry is in it. Tyler Perry! The guy who plays Madea! He's the head of the motherfucking Starfleet Academy! Throughout the film, I was half-expecting Madea to march onscreen (is she really any less grotesque than the creatures on Star Trek?) and unleash a screed against the Romulans: "I ain't scared o' no Ro-Ro! Call the Ro-Ro, ho! Call the Ro-Ro, ho!" (Building a joke that requires prerequisite knowledge of both Star Trek and Tyler Perry movies is a dangerous feat, but aren't you glad I did it anyway?)

Although I admire Tyler Perry immensely, I know that many of you don't. But you have to give the man mad props, if only for that fact that he cast The Cosby Show's Keisha Knight-Pulliam in his last movie, Madea Goes to Jail. And guess what? Rudy Huxtable is a crack ho! That deserves your respect. Give it. Give it, dork!



Those of you wishing for a Star Trek review befitting to nerds should read Jonny's post. My work is done here.

[Read "Ben Lee Cures Cancer" and "What Would Ben Lee Do?."]

After watching Ben Lee's spirited, high-energy performance from the edge of the stage at The Troubadour in West Hollywood last week, I was the first fan to verbally assault him (I use the term "verbally assault" lovingly) in the bar after the show. Sure, I had to shove aside a couple starfucking hot chicks, but that's what starfucking hot chicks deserve, and, if it's in my power, I always like to give people what they deserve.

"Ben!" I yelled.

He turned to me and a genuine look of recognition washed over his face. I had met him two times before (see previous posts, linked above), so he smiled and nodded and exclaimed in his Australian lilt, "Hey! Yeah! I remember you!"

You have to understand something. To me, being remembered by Ben Lee is equivalent to winning a Nobel Peace Prize. (So, if the Nobel committee has been considering giving me an award, I don't need it anymore.) The fact that he didn't scream, "Crazy gay Asian stalker!," would've been enough of a triumph, but to be remembered fondly is the ultimate victory.

PRINCE: I love the new album.

BEN: Oh, thank you.

PRINCE: "Wake Up to America" is beautiful.

BEN: Thanks. You know, we actually got a hold of some old recordings of Abbie Hoffman, but we couldn't get the rights to use them in the song, but maybe we'll try to put them on the Internet or something.

At this point, I'm thinking, "Shit. Who the fuck is Abbie Hoffman? I've heard the name. Symbionese Liberation Army? Member of the Grateful Dead? Chicago 10? If I actually paid attention in history class back in school, I could continue this conversation, and Ben and I could chat about smart things."

Totally blanking, I figured it was best to get out of there alive. "Great concert! Bye!" I said before scampering off with Jake.

You can currently listen to "Wake Up to America" on Ben Lee's MySpace page, where his entire new album, The Rebirth of Venus, is streaming for free. I'm not sure what Abbie Hoffman has to do with it, but it is better to be remembered than smart.

As Jake and I headed to my car, we reminisced about the show. Ben played one great song after another, frequently inviting the audience to sing along, and was backed by the Low vs. Diamond band (who opened) and by Nic Johns.

The highlight of the concert was perhaps Ben's cover version of The Atari's "Ben Lee," a vicious 2001 song/musical death threat that Ben performed with ironic glee. Somebody caught it on video at the San Francisco show. Watch (lyrics below):

I never met someone so jaded
Your music's really overrated
Nothing but a lot of pretentious noise
I know that Claire Danes is your chick
To me you're just some ugly prick who got lucky
'Cause he knew the Beastie Boys
And I can't stand it

A lot goes on but nothing happens
But this time that's not true
I wrote this song for you
To tell you that your 15 minutes of fame are almost up
Yeah, one more thing, Ben Lee you suck

Bob Dylan must be kinda pissed
'Cause you've been writing all his hits
Packaged and reprocessed for the world
I'd love to kick you in the face
Break your legs and throw you from a train
'Cause you're such a fucking girl
And I can't stand it

CHORUS

I guess this song's come to an end
I'll say good bye until we meet again
You better stay out of my town
'Cause if I had my way
I'd call up Snoop, Ice Cube, and Dr. Dre
We'd come and beat you down

CHORUS

Ben Lee is smart enough (he knows who Abbie Hoffman is) to make light of that stuff, as much as he makes light of overcoming the world's problems, which brings us to the new single off the new album, the delightfully anthemic "I Love Pop Music." Watch:



I love that "turn up the radio" backing vocal. It makes me want to shun history and use this moment to dance. Sorry, Abbie Hoffman, whoever you are.

After watching Matthew McConaughey draw attention to his crotch at a taping of Jimmy Kimmel Live! (he was innocently showing off his belt buckle) in Hollywood last week, Will and his friend B. convinced me to go to the nearby Hooters with them, despite the fact that the food there tastes like dry rot and boobies do not make my world go round. "Well," I said to Will, "if going to Hooters increases the chances of me seeing you get a boner through your pants in public, then I'm game."

At Hooters, Will was blissfully unaware that he was engaging in a double entendre-laced conversation with the waitress that made me want to simultaneously laugh and duck underneath the table out of embarrassment. Picture this: Will is white; the waitress is black. This is their dialogue, spoken without a hint of self-awareness:

BLACK WAITRESS: What would you like to drink?

WHITE WILL: I think I'm gonna have a milkshake. What do you like better...chocolate...or vanilla?

BLACK WAITRESS: What do I like?

WHITE WILL: Yeah...chocolate...or vanilla?

BLACK WAITRESS: Well, I like...both.

WHITE WILL: I'll have the...chocolate.

Will was initially perplexed when I mentioned how inappropriate his interaction with the waitress was.

Moments later:

BLACK WAITRESS: I'm sorry. We're out of the fish and chips.

GAY PRINCE: Nooooo!

BLACK WAITRESS: Do you want the grouper bites?

GAY PRINCE: The what?

BLACK WAITRESS: Grouper.

GAY PRINCE: Grope her?!

BLACK WAITRESS: Grouper.

GAY PRINCE: Grope what?

BLACK WAITRESS: Grou. Per. It's a type of fish.

GAY PRINCE: Oh. Whew.

Remember the first time I went to Hooters? I was visiting my sister, who was working at the one in Pasadena. Let's dig into the archives, shall we?

Ix-Nay on the Ooters-Hay
March 14, 2003

Tuesday was Hooters day because that's the day my sister works. She started working there after...The Operation. I was joined by Brent, Ken, and Loren, who will likely be whiny about the fact that his name appeared last in that list of names.

The inside of Hooters looks like a brightly-lit sports bar, with a dash of silicone. All the Hooters girls, whose tight white t-shirts and orange shorts are dangerously skimpy, greet you with a "Welcome to Hooters!" when you walk through the door. The menu is full of innuendo, e.g., the Hooters burger is "a mouthful," ha ha.

My sister was more animated than I've ever seen her, and she sat our table a lot, which is something Hooters girls do to keep the men entertained. The waitresses don't have to do anything in particular to keep the clientele happy—"they" just have to be visible and everything's good. I realized that it doesn't matter what the hell comes out of these girls' mouths because my sister passes the time by telling stupid jokes like, "Did you hear about the new pirate movie? It’s rated Aaarrrggghhh," and she gets good tips anyway.

I asked her if she treats cute young male customers better than she treats older guys, and she said that middle-aged, overweight men were almost exclusively the only people that show up to eat there and stare at the girls' name tags. She seemed more interested in talking about getting her real estate license and getting me to find her people who wanted to refinance their houses.

After telling my sister that Ken was "the only straight one here" and that "he really likes Asian girls" and that "he wasn't sufficiently entertained," my sister looked at him and said menacingly, "You're not entertained, huh...? And your name's Ken?" Then she walked away, a girl with a mission. A look of dread swept over Ken's face, and all of us at the table feared what was to come.

Ken and another customer were forced to stand on chairs, with their arms over their heads in the shape of a hoop, as Hooters girls surrounded them, clapping and signing and basically taunting them and forcing them to do a little jig, as the rest of the restaurant clapped along and as I laughed my ass off. Embarrassing, sure, but I'm sure the view was nice from where they were.

After lunch, Ken sent his girlfriend an "I love you" e-mail, which is really code for "I've been to Hooters, and I'm not going to tell you."

[Read "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 1," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 2," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 3," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 4," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 5," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 6," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 7," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 8," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 9," "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 10," and "Pork Chop's Origin Story, Part 11."]

It Drives Him a Little Mad
June 19, 2009

Pork Chop gets the “1 A.M. Crazies.” That’s right. In the middle of the night, he dives off his cat perch and is ready for action. He goes on a cat-toy rampage. I attribute it to the fact that he has Attention Deficit Disorder. His eyes and paws dart back and forth from toy to toy, not wanting to spend too much time with any one item. Loren believes that the cat grass I bought at Ralph’s is the culprit. Pork Chop sniffs it and chews it, and perhaps it drives him a little mad. Loren calls it kitty crack. So we put it away in the evening. But I tell Loren, “We can’t help Pork Chop. Pork Chop can only help himself.” And then I whisper the Serenity Prayer in Pork Chop’s ear.

Is this real? I can't tell. Watch:



[Thanks to Superbadfriend for sending me this.]