Cunningwham-bitches Unite!

Last night's Academy Awards show demonstrated that Hollywood is becoming a more culturally diverse place. Actors of Nigerian, Kenyan, and Somalian descent all were up for major acting awards alongside the usual American and European nominees.

And while it's wonderful that the film industry may at last be turning a more blind eye to race and ethnicity, as a practical matter there is still a huge difference among actors when it comes to the ease of pronouncing their names. Let's face it, your average Oscar presenter is going to have a much easier time saying Sally Hawkins and Bradley Cooper then Chiwetel Ejiofor and Lupita Nyong'o.

Still, the vast majority of presenters and media representatives were able to respectfully and correctly pronounce those exotic (to Americans) monikers. And then there was John Travolta, who, when introducing Broadway star Idina Menzel, somehow turned her name into Adele Dazeem.

What? Where?

Travolta's tongue twister immediately became a meme, a parody Twitter account, and a welcome distraction from how overall dull the Oscar broadcast was. And almost a quickly, the good people at Slate.com, who last summer brought us the Anthony Weinergate-inspired "Carlos Danger Name Generator," posted one to generate your very own Travoltafied name.

I like it.

John Travolta may never introduce you at a major awards show, but now at least you know what he would call you if he did.

Call him Cate.

Everyone should experience the honor of having his or her name publicly mangled by a famous Scientologist.

John Travolta introduced me once. It was awful.

Yes, everyone.

"Victor" and "Prize" for the man who thinks the Ukraine is
a carnival stuffed bear to be claimed.

They should have just let him narrate the whole show.

Seems legit.

And of course, I couldn't resist Travoltafying my favorite multi-syllabic actor:

Which is so perfect I want to punch someone in the face.

Thank you, Slate.com, for the gift of the Travoltaficationifyer. And John Travolta, thank you for your mangled syntax and your architecturally pure hairline. Hail Xenu.

2013, in the Nuttiest of Shells

Any year in which your marriage falls apart cannot be called a good year. I just now made that rule up.

In keeping with this, 2013 was not a good year.

But it had its moments.

Like, remember when Anthony Weiner burst back onto the political scene by running for mayor of New York City, and then it turned out he was still taking pictures of his dong and talking dirty to random chicks on the Internet and calling himself Carlos Danger?

That was cool.

Then there was the lady who stabbed her roommate for the totally defensible reason that he wouldn't stop playing awful, terrible music by the Eagles. She is my hero.

Texas Governor Dick Perry announced that he would end the state's long, long nightmare by not seeking another term as Head Froot Loop. If only all the other Froot Loops would follow him out of the bowl. Offically, he's planning another hilarious run at the Presidency for 2016. Unofficially, as hard as it seems to believe, he just may have run out of ridiculous douchey shit to do. Or maybe it's just awfully hard to stand out in a state where such a large proportion of government officials are doing douchey shit every day.

Some terrible things happened, like when Olympic runner Oscar "Blade Runner" Pistorius maybe-maybe not shot his girlfriend to death while she was sitting on the toilet because he thought she was a burglar who had decided to stop and take a pee in the middle of a home invasion. But since I wasn't much in a romantic mood at the time, it made a pretty good Valentine.

President Obama did everything wrong, according to the fair and balanced reporters on Fox News. But by far the worst thing he did all year was to put his foot on his desk in the Oval Office. His godless socialist Muslim foot. I can't believe I voted for this guy twice.

The MTV Music Video Awards happened. And that nice girl who played Hannah Montana and that nice boy whose dad was on "Growing Pains" got together and sang a duet. Full disclosure: I was actually walking the dog while the Twerk Heard Round the World was going on. But I did see the *NSYNC reunion. And so did a few other people.

Things also happened right here on the ol' blog. In May, I participated in the A to Z Swearing Challenge. You know, to show solidarity with my fellow bloggers who came under fire for sullying the noble art of oversharing online by using CURSE WORDS sometimes. Also because it gave me a chance to learn and/or make up a bunch of new swears. Mostly because I like to fucking swear.

My page admin/alter ego Tabitha began writing guest posts. She doesn't like to use the shift key, and she doesn't like me. But she likes to take on various topics in the most offensive way possible, and on some level I've got to admire her for that. Besides, it gives her something to do, which is a good thing, because when she gets bored she hacks into my Facebook account and sends very rude messages to my friends.

I was paid to host sponsored content from an online fantasty football company! They haven't asked again. Which is totally their loss, because I absolutely would have delivered faux-macho jock/geek hybrid eyeballs in droves. You all are into that stuff, right?

I gave you poems. Some of them I actually tried to make good. Others, not so much. Those probably turned out better.

And after spending the whole year churning out thousands of words about religion and politics and current events and alcohol and love and my various, endlessly amusing personal failures, it turns out that the single most-read post of 2013 was the one that consisted entirely of pictures of turtles.

I think I finally understand the Internet.

Introducing the "Always Drunk" YouTube Channel (Oh My God)

All right, Drunkards. It's Friday night, it's my last night of my Undisclosed Location Vacation, and yeah, I've had quite a bit of Ivanabitch coconut vodka.

So I did this.

Wait.

You need to know that, as mediocre as my blogging skills are, my singing, recording, mixing, and multimedia skills are just so much worse. Yet I started a YouTube channel and made this. FOR YOU.

Oh, and there's a picture of Anthony Weiner's unpixelated schlong at the end. Fair warning.

Did I mention my lack of talent in just about everything except writing what I think may be a reasonably clever song parody?

Just checking.



Like and share and shit like that. Oh, and don't judge.

OK.

Julio Cesar Badass Commands You to Read This

Remember the good old days of 2011? The economy was still in the shitter, Amanda Bynes was nominally sane, and former Rep. Anthony Weiner was texting his junk to random women to whom he didn't happen to be married. Good times.

Imagine this picture of Weiner's schnitzel
awash in sepia tones.

Well, times change. The economy is, like, kinda sorta better now. Amanda Bynes just set some old lady's driveway on fire because crazy. We can't live in the past forever.

Unless we're talking about Anthony Weiner making gross sexytime on the Internets!

Which we absolutely are.

How awesome is this man? First he resigns in disgrace from Congress after admitting that he blew up Twitter with a picture of his democratically elected tubesnake. Then he turns right around and keeps trolling for Teh Nasty online as if nothing had happened! Even after his wife publicly forgave him and stayed by his side and bore his child, he was telling women he wanted to bend them over a chair and promising them blogging jobs in exchange for deleting their chat histories.

Aside #1: Huma Abedin is either the most selfless, forgiving woman on the planet, or - far more likely - she once decapitated a nun and Tony helped her mop up the blood and spilled holy water and then buried the evidence in the Everglades for her. Why else would she stay with him? We've all seen his schlong; we know that's not it.

Aside #2: Unnamed 22-year-old woman who was Weiner's sexytalk partner: Honey. Let's talk. You're young and impressionable. And naïve. And so I have nothing but kindness and good intentions in my heart when I say that if a man offers you a job at a blog in exchange for anything, run. As a legitimate opportunity, a job at a blog ranks up there with buying commemorative coins from a late-night TV commercials. As an inducement to engage in covering up a politician's horndog behavior at the cost of your own integrity, it's roughly equivalent to putting your boyfriend through med school and getting a pair of socks as a thank-you gift. OK? Are we good here? You're sweet. Go grow up now.

OK, so the best part of Weinergate 2.0 is that Tony reportedly used the chat handle "Carlos Danger," which if it doesn't already have a strain of marijuana named after it totally needs to ASAP. I'm looking at you, completely legal dispensaries of weed in other states. Hop on that.

Frankly, I don't know how a tool like Anthony Weiner managed to come up with an awesome nom de boner like that all by himself. But fortunately for the rest of us, whose creative talents only allow us to run blogs and not make them actually sound like viable employment opportunities, Slate.com has come to our aid. Check out their widget (which is not a sexual innuendo, unless your name actually is Carlos Danger), the Carlos Danger Name Generator. All you have to do is enter your first and last name to get a sweet down 'n dirty alias of your very own. Go check it out.

Of course, I immediately tried it out. Unfortunately, when I entered "Chuck Baudelaire," the CDNG came back with the relatively lame result "Emilio Threat." So I entered my IRL name and struck pay-freaking-dirt.  My Carlos Danger name is:

 

Julio Cesar Badass

OH HELL YES.

So Carlos Danger may have ruined Anthony Weiner's political career - again - but he's raised my self-esteem by about 1200 percent. I'm going to sign everything with this name from now on. Because I have a blog, bitches, and that's how bloggers roll.

Let me know in the comments or my Facebook page what your name is, K? Julio Cesar Badass will be most displeased if you do not.

Weiner Pulls Out

Now THAT's a title!

Uh...Anthony Weiner's speech was eloquent, dignified, straightforward, and heartfelt. Now I feel bad for the guy. But he did send pictures of his junk to women who weren't his wife. Jerk.

But that guy who was shouting at him during the press conference?

What a dick.

Breaking News!!!!!!!!! <-- (Multiple Exclamation Points=Important)

Rep. Anthony Weiner is scheduled to hold a press conference at 2 p.m. EDT, during which he's expected to announce his resignation from Congress.

You know what that means?

IT MEANS YOU'VE GOT TO GET YOUR WEINER NOW!!

As I just now wrote about, Herobuilders is selling an anatomically correct Anthony Weiner action figure, and now it looks as if that sucker is about to go collector's item!

Get it now! Watch the press conference! Tweet inappropriate pictures of yourself at your company gym! DON'T PANIC!

I'll be back with typically reasoned and insightful commentary after Rep. Checkmeout's big announcement.

Herobuilders Does It Again

Earlier this year I alerted you to the new line of action figures from Herobuilders. They included Mayhem, the Allstate spokesperson; Dos Equis' Most Interesting Man in the World; and the Old Spice Guy, who could be ordered in regular and anatomically correct versions. I love this company.

Now they've released a new product, ripped from today's talk-show monologues: the Anthony Weiner Action Figure. I am so not kidding.


His shorts say "Tweet this!"
Just like his real shorts.

Like the Old Spice Guy, Rep. Weiner also comes in smooth-groined and Twitter-ready varieties. You pay ten dollars more for the latter, but hell, who wouldn't? You can also add an optional scale-model BlackBerry. I'm not sure whether a tiny pair of gray briefs is included. If not, I would totally sew some myself.


Here's the tiny little pattern I would use.

The little Weiner - the doll, I mean - is a pretty decent likeness of Rep. Petertweeter. His expression is a bit carefree, however. It must have been modeled from a photo taken before June 1. Of course everyone wants their Barbies to look happy, but because the Congressman's face is so darn expressive of his inner psyche, I might have chosen a different photo to work from:


But I don't wanna live in the Malibu Dream House!

 By the way, Herobuilders also has a ton of other cool action figures, including Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Christine O'Donnell dressed as a witch. I love this company!

So go order yourself a Weiner with the works, if that's your thing. Me, I'll be looking at a real American hero:

That's right, the anatomically correct Joe Biden. They don't call him the Vice President for nothing. Rrrooowwwrrr.

Weiner Face

We've all seen this picture of Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-New York):

Hey now! Someone hacked my blog! That is not the photo I meant to show! (Come back next week when I admit that totally is the photo I meant to show, but I'm deeply ashamed of myself for doing it. On the other hand, wah-wah-wah, you know?)

Actually, the photo I was referring to is this photo of Rep. Namesake at the June 6 press conference at which he took photgraphic and anatomical credit for the above image:


Something stinks like unwashed briefs.

Let's dissect the body language on display here. Actually, let's just borrow from Psychology Today, which already did just that on its website. Joe Navarro, a former FBI Counterintelligence Agent, and expert on body language, breaks down Rep. Weiner's anatomy above the waist on his "Spycatcher" blog. Mr. Navarro says the first nonverbal clues that Rep. Weiner was hiding something (other than the proverbial sausage) could be seen in his CNN interview with Wolf Blitzer on June 1, including his "compressed lips, the tension of the face, the chin down, the elevated shoulders and so forth, all of  which attested to there being hidden issues."


Wolf confessed he "sort of believed" Weiner at the time.
And what are you hiding behind that dashing beard, Mr. Blitzer?

 Of course, Rep. Trousersnake eventually admitted that he suffered from horndogism at that press conference. Mr. Navarro points out a number of classic signals that the Congressman was a wee bit stressed out at the podium. One, he writes, is "the 'nose crinkle,' the upward movement of the nose...that says in strong terms (just as a child rejecting spinach), 'I don't like.'"  There may an order or two of magnitude difference between your kid refusing to eat his leafy green vegetables and an elected official forced to admit he's a big fat lying cheating idiot. Yet the expressions are remarkably similar, I must admit.

Then there's the contortion of Rep. Weiner's chin, which Mr. Navarro characterizes as "really tough to do." Try it - if you're not up to your ass in alligators, it's not a natural way to set your face. The body language expert's interpretation of the chin-clench is that the subject is saying, "I am down and beaten and I lack confidence." Bring me a tissue, I'm getting all misty here.

Of course, along with the poor-me indicators, Mr. Navarro pegs the look on the Congressman's face as expressing "feelings of contempt for either the process he was going through or for those in the room." Which leads me to wonder why more of us watching this story unfold don't have the same look on our faces. In my case, it's because the brays of laughter are drowning it out. Remember, it takes more muscles to frown than to roll on the floor busting a gut.

Let us not forget that Rep. Tweetyermeat admitted to more than a single indiscretion involving a camera that just happened to be pointing down at the precise moment he was obviously thinking about his lovely wife and a Twitter account that randomly uploaded the photo and then hit the wrong button on his computer. There were several ladies competing for his affections over a period of time and across multiple social networking platforms. And he was keeping that a secret for quite a while. So I put together a selection of photos from before and during the scandal to see if we can detect a pattern in Rep. Weiner's facial expressions.

"I'd rather be photographing my dick."



"I wonder if gray briefs are sexier than white."

"I should have hired a male intern to blame this on."

 

"Why can't they all be as gullible as Wolf Blitzer?
And what the hell kind of name is Wolf, anyway?"



"At least they're not laughing at its size."



"Shit."



"Shit."



"Oh, shit."



"Could be worse. My wife could be pregnant during all this."

Should Rep. Weiner resign? Depends on what you want to accomplish. If you just want the guy out of office because he lied about digging on teh cybersex and that makes him unfit to serve, then there's no need to call for his resignation; his Congressional seat may be redistricted out of existence next year anyway. But if you want to punish him for being a bad husband, a liar, stupid, horny, or a Democrat, then I guess you've got probable cause. On the misconduct scale between Sen. Larry Craig's wide stance and Chappaquiddick, I don't really know where Weinergate falls.

I do think, however, that "Weinergate Falls" sounds as if it would be a lovely place to live. I'll bet they have an annual bratwurst cookoff there. Just don't try to bring your famous spinach casserole, unless you want to see some serious nose-crinkling.

Weiner Comes Clean

Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-New York) today finally admitted what he's been wasting everyone's time denying: He likes to send pictures of his namesake to women via Twitter and Facebook.


This is the one he sent me.

 CNN just published a brief account of Weiner's confession during a press conference, and it's pretty straightforward. There's no byline, but my compliments to the writer who turned the phrase "an incriminating photo of a man's bulging underwear." It's so poetic.  It goes on to describe an earlier press conference, in which Weiner played around with the question of why he hadn't reported his allegedly hacked Twitter account to police, as "testy." Which is exactly the word I would use to describe a man talking about his bulging underwear, regardless of the emotional tenor of the conversation. Stand-up work, CNN staff writer.

There's also this gem: "Weiner claimed that he didn't believe he used any government resources while sending various photos to women he'd met online." Oh, Rep. Weiner. Don't sell yourself short. You are a precious government resource. Every last inch of you. And I believe you used yourself to excellent advantage.

The Weiner dog states that he never personally met any of the women he graced with topless and/or bottomless photos, and that he is not going to resign over this matter of his member of the House. This is, however, the same man who demonstrates a tenuous grasp of the word "certitude." Also, he previously apologized for being "a little stiff" with reporters, whereas everybody knows you never use the words "stiff" and "little" in the same sentence if you want to impress the ladies. Or the men. Or Brian Williams.

I don't want to beat this issue. It's been raging long enough. With the Congressman's confession of his boner, we should let it run its course and come to completion. Dab at it with a tissue and zip it up, I say.

On the other hand, I'll bet I could come up with a lot more weiner jokes if I had to. So maybe this isn't the time to go soft on this matter. Rep. Weiner, it's up to you. Tell us what the thrust of our continued coverage should be. Just don't be a dick about it.