Tag Archives: Hollywood

Solving the World’s Problems, One at a Time : Vol I Issue 1 | Megan Fox’s Career

My buddy Nick and I brainstorm how to save Megan Fox’s career.
You’re Welcome.

I'm tiny.It seems as though Hollywood has given Megan the finger and told her ‘RTFM OMFG DIAF!!!!1!!one!!!’, so what is going to be the big PR coup that will resurrect her career… or will it take more than that?


Nick's tiny too. WTF IS GOING ON HERE?!

beverly hills chihuahua 2, and subsequent accidental death and ressurection in the span of 3 days.

actually. no. scratch that. you ever see the movie ‘Punchline’? with Tom Hanks and Sally Fields… they pretty much hook up and are the romantic couple for the movie… flash forward, ‘Forrest Gump’ where Sally Fields plays Tom Hanks’ mom… if there were ever a movie to bridge the gap between the two, Megan Fox would have to do it.

Teensie weensie.

Transformers: Zeo Ninja Force Plus Alpha

It’s 30xx and Megaman just got butt-humped by Optimus Integer. 1000101011 (Megan Fox) is sold into slavery by her uncle Owen and her aunt Anakin. Before being transported to the final oasis, Las Atlantis Falconbreath, 1000101011 is suddenly and heroically rescued by the transformer Fumblewasp Hogherpes. Safe at the Transformer HQ, Optimus Integer reveals to 1000101011 that she is the key to the Allvibe – the source of all happiness and wetness on Prince, formerly the planet known as Earth. However, the Decepticons are well awares of her powers and wish to extract it through violent sensual massage (read: tenticles). The HQ is attacked by Decepticons, led by Ultratron, and 1000101011 is punted like a football across the oasis-scape. A pterodactyl swoops in and fetches her out of mid-air and brings her to its nest. 1000101011 wakes among ginormous eggs and panics. The pterodactyl, in a milky Scottish accent, reassures her that everything is going to be just fine, and the Autobots are on the way. She asks how it could know such a thing, and the pterodactyl removes its dermis to reveal it is Sam Witwicky (Shia Lebeauf). Sam Witwickydactyl also reveals that nearly two thousand years ago, he ate one of Mikaela’s ovaries after getting drunk off of Allspark. The result was a tremendous explosion, and the folding of time. Finally, he goes on to explain that he is not only her former lover, but her father, grandfather, and mother. In the final scene of the film, Ultratron farts and 1000101011 disintegrates. The End.

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Twitter, I don’t feel funny anymore

Twitter, I don’t feel funny anymore

Normally this isn’t a problem.

Example: You go to the genitals doctor, and you’re all like ‘Hey! It used to feel like I was peeing meteors, but now I don’t feel funny anymore!’

That would otherwise be regarded as a win. In my case, it’s more like performance anxiety as a result of blas√©¬†traffic.

Recently, The Loser Table has made it a habit of recording our lunchcapades. Unfortunately, as soon as one of our iPhones is set to record, I fall flat. It’s like someone steals my funny bone and beats me with it. For those concerned with anatomy, the funny bone is located in the chest, and it keeps the heart in place.

I digress.

I have found that social networking sites have been doing some sort of mythical game of musical chairs where one site is pitted against the other for traffic. More specifically, folks will go to Twitter on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; Facebook on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (Note: MySpace not listed — populated by crickets and pedophiles. Neither of which count.) So, when I dive into a tweet tirade, I almost expect that someone will see it, maybe get a chuckle. Then I’m reminded that I suck at being funny in more than 139 characters, and turn to hummus and Doritos to cope. Facebook is a little more sensitive as it includes family for most of us users. And for most of us, we don’t want our families knowing that we are talking about how much so-and-so’s toupee smells like cheese and burning cats. Twitter was supposed to be a refuge for such divulging. Alas, so-and-so only wears their toupee on Tuesdays and Thursdays because they are covering cats in pepperjack and throwing them into cars covered in gasoline, and they wouldn’t want to get their scalp all sooty.

I don’t have an uncle like that, but I read your tweet feed and you should call the cops.

Ahem.

I think that the Twitter bubble has burst, and we’re left to pick up the pieces.

Fail Whale Demands a Sacrifice

Fail Whale Demands a Sacrifice

I see loads and loads of terrific tweets filling my feed. Problem is, the audience is not there. People have been desensitized to hilarity. Quips and clever anecdotes are no longer readable as they have already been done.

What are we to do now?

The answer is so deceptively simple, it’s absurd. I was watching Shutter Island in theaters some weeks ago, and it came to me:

Do a reboot of all the funny and profound tweets.

I would like to thank Hollywood writers for giving me the idea. And no, Hollywood, you may not collect internet money on my idea. It’s not yours. However, you may collect on Ironman, Batman and any other 80s phenomenon you wish. In fact, why not make a reboot of Uncle Buck. Only this time, Buck will be addicted to meth.

Getting to the point, I plan on going back to my first tweet and rewriting each subsequent tweet with a Shyamalan twist that will make you shit yourself.

For example, my first tweet:

‘This is a test’

I will reboot this tweet with CGI, a young virile cast, and a bigger budget. The new tweet should look something like this:

‘This is a zombie Tiger Michael Peter Jackson test’

This new and improved tweet will be sure to revive Twitter, and restore it to its former glory of thoughtful, provocative tweets.

I know what you’re thinking. No, I will not move to Hollywood and write movies. But you know what I will do? I will fart glitter all over a script written in the early sixties and make it into a blockbuster hit. Problem solved.

Bonus: I crap unicorns.