What
follows is a scattershot bit of random thoughts, links, and images that
showcase the lunacy that exists in the entertainment world and beyond.
Folks who remember my old missives from the old Steady Leak articles
should find this kind of stuff familiar. Folks seemed to get a kick out
of the first installment, and each Wednesday should fall victim to
another installment. Don’t expect anything deep here but something may
tickle your fancy.
1. What If I Like Help From Poisonous Snakes?
What kind of golf course doesn’t feature poisonous snakes that look for your balls? I pay a premium for assistance from the pit viper community because sometimes it’s just plain hard to find a ball that I have shanked into oblivion. My golf game is not one of finesse. I tend to destroy the living fuckface out of a ball, but oftentimes that smashing sends the ball [Nike Mojo and Slazenger Raw Distance are my brands if you’re holiday shopping] to an early grave. I find myself oftentimes roaming the wilderness searching for my stuff and I must admit that there are many times where I could use a little assistance from an animal whose first instinct it to sic his/her sharpened mouth on me. Note to Golf Course Decision Makers: PUNCTUATION.
2. Still No Bargain.
Well I guess the world isn’t ready to be eating things out of the necks of daemons. Color me surprised, because I’ve been on Ebay watching the rising value of my Villains of the Holocaust and Two-Time Rapist PEZ dispensers with glee. There’s an old adage that 75% off isn’t enough for a The Golden Compass movie tie-in, and this is proof positive of such. Fuck this movie. I hope a kid chokes on one of these. Not because I want a kid to suffer but because any parent that is so bad at their job as to buy one of these must serve as a cautionary tale to the rest.
3. Tastes Like Brando!
I have never ordered a Grilled Godfather before but I anticipate the entree to taste a little doughy with a hint of Aqua Velva and hard fuckin’. One of the responsibilities of a restaurant owner is to describe the meal they are pimping on their specials board unless it is self explanatory. If it’s a B.L.T. I think the math can be effectively on in one’s own head. The Grilled Godfather is on sourdough. That is all we’re given. Of course, I’m afraid to ask because what if it IS self explanatory?
4. The Sound of One Woman Pissing.
I love when a joint has silly names for the toilets, whether it be themed to the nationality or concept of the restaurant/bar or just because they can. There’s a great restaurant in Atlanta [and probably elsewhere as it’s a chain of sorts] called Brio. A Tuscan grill with some really phenomenal bruschetta dishes and a world-class lobster bisque. The ladies room is pictured above. I envision Judy Dench in there dropping a few brown pounds. I also wonder if there’s some sort of qualification required for a lady to use this facility, and I hope there is. Not every woman is a Dame. Some are Broads. An unfortunate few are Minxes. I like bathrooms that judge a lady. Women have had it too good for too long.
The best bathroom signs ever can be purchased from CHUD.com’s own Cafepress store:
5. Shizer Surplus!
I’ve photographed this joint before for a Steady Leak a million years ago, but it never gets old. On Buford Highway in Atlanta’s “Chambodia” district lies a store that has been in town for at least twenty years called My Dung. I know it’s not OFFICIALLY a shit store, because no one person can create enough ‘product’ to sustain a retail environment but a man can dream can’t he? My Dung. I disregard the squiggly bastard over the “Y” because I am an uneducated American. There is nothing better than a store called My Dung. Well, except for a Chinese Restaurant I saw in New City, NY in the 80’s called E.Wok.
6. The Official Tobacco of Deliverance!
OK, this isn’t all that funny, except the fact that I looked at it and only saw “Backwoods Rape”. Probably not a product that would make it past the conceptual phase, but once again… if it did I’d be a customer for life. Even as it stands, it’s still so fucking chintzy a product and name that it deserves mention here.
Oh fuck off, don’t judge me!
By the way:
“Mommy let me dogfood today!”