Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Dane's Review of JJ Abrams Star Trek

I was pretty pumped when I learned of Star Trek's return to the Big Screen. I called up my friend, Sister Wendy "Our Lady of Oil Paint" and told her, "I know you're saving your money for a prison tattoo, but this is Star Trek we're talking about." Sister Wendy is a huge trekkie. Goes to all the conventions dressed as Picard. Needless to say, we enjoyed it. Here is the upshot of this epic film.

The Enterprise gets swallowed up by a giant vagina, referred to only as "the alien life form", and gets pulled into it by it's tractor beam. Sulu tries to fend it off with Karate, Kirk slaps it around, and Spock tries to understand it. "I sense puzzlement." says Spock. "It wants to know why we haven't returned the friendship message."

My advice is run, don't walk, to see this film. If you must walk, walk in a straight line without moving your arms, and take a deep breath from the heels of your feet. Imagine you're a flower. Now, image you are knitting a sweater for a penguin, or giving a gibbon a massage.

Yes. It's that good.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Random things about moi.

1. My knowledge of eastern culture is based on Pier 1 imports. I’m going to use this in a cartoon, so don’t steal it.
2. During the renaissance they thought that your organs moved according to your mood. Personally, I like to wear my heart on my sleeve.
3. I once tried on my Mother's wig and I fell in love with myself.
4. I once said something to my sister that made her so angry she threw a teapot full of boiling water at me. On another occasion my brother threw a wrench. They were very gender specific in their choice of weapons.
5. I hated those kids in class who used to whisper into my ear like a broken record, “Fag! Fag! Hey Fag, you know you’re a Fag! Why are you such a Faggot? All I knew was, being gay was about the worse thing you could be. Why couldn’t I be an axe murderer? Why did I have to be a fag?
6. When I draw I always figure I’ll find homes for my characters later. But I can’t help feeling guilty for having fathered thousands of homeless brain-children. Look at me, I’m Ghengis Kahn!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Captcha Poetry

Computers don't rhyme, but I think they should. Here is a poem that my computer wrote after several unsuccessful attempts to buy tickets for Keane.

Competing alertist
realized shrines
dilutes dogma
foregoes to
throttle Brooklyn

Republican pipers
never swaggered
dutiful Washington
freely more
expensive pariah

Quesy mostly
antlered public
incestuous violin
revive hideous
Director Cocteau

23 wasted
macho Manhattan
bogie users
honored all
Hades commissions

Pathetic squealers
whelped Brian
inside alfonsos
thaczuk Zebra