On his website, Pyschobabble, Mike Segretto has a great post on The Twilight Zone.
Check it out. Then bounce around the site and read more of Mike’s writing on “Groovy Ghouls & Retro Rock.”
-Lou
On his website, Pyschobabble, Mike Segretto has a great post on The Twilight Zone.
Check it out. Then bounce around the site and read more of Mike’s writing on “Groovy Ghouls & Retro Rock.”
-Lou
A great podcast from comedians Brian Finkelstein and John Reynolds, where Brian tells John about The View.
You’ll hear about how Brian masturbates to love and learn that Tyra Banks is actually a gigantic muppet, like Big Bird. The intricate pulley system responsible for her movement—as well as the number of men working inside her—is mind-blowing!
Like the podcast on Facebook and listen to them all.
-Lou (via Greg’s recommendation)
4 ways to improve Oxygen’s The Bad Girl’s Club:
1. Other than turning multiple cameras on human garbage of the “fairer sex”—these girls are grosser than the tampons they soil each month—the show lacks a through-line. For the next season of The Bad Girls Club the Bad Girls should work in a children’s cancer ward.
When I first got here I thought Tommy was real—we cliqued. I had never cliqued with a six-year-old before. But after that shit he pulled—not having my back… I don’t care if he has Leukemia—his ass is fake!
2. One cast member should be a female Mixed Martial Artist. I’d love to see some combinations thrown, a single-leg takedown, an armbar—because the hair-pulling gets old. There are more effective methods of combat.
3. A loaded gun must be accessible at all times in the house—especially when the Bad Girls get back from the club.
4. Someone must hang herself in front of the rest of the cast. It should probably be the “fakest” Bad Girl.
I ain’t cleaning up that fake bitch’s dead body! That bitch was always leaving her shit around! Nasty.
-Lou
Aside from this outrageous statement:
It’s like The Simpsons. I don’t let my children watch The Simpsons. You know, I’ll tell you this: For me, that show was the original dumbing-down of America. Oh my God! Are we that stupid? You know what I mean? And I don’t let my children watch it, man.
Steve Marsh’s interview with Joe Piscopo, “The Vulture Transcript: Joe Piscopo Dissects His Career, From SNL to the Buff Era and Beyond,” was a worthwhile read.

Piscopo (left), as Danny Vermin, hanging on a door hook in Johnny Dangerously
-Lou
Sylvester Stallone’s mom, Jacqueline, claims to be an astrologer/psychic and a little something of a rumpologist.
In case you’re not familiar with rumpology, here’s a little bit from Jacqueline’s website (which is probably someone joking around, right? Right?):
Jacqueline Stallone, the foremost American rumpologist, has revealed and revived the ancient art of Rumpology. Rump reading is an art that was practiced in ancient Babylon, India, Greece, and Rome. The ancient Greeks thought the derriere was the key to health and fidelity and the Romans used prints of the gluteus maximus the way some people use palmistry today, to determine potential talents and future success.
Rumpology is sometimes called butt reading in modern parlance. It is the art of reading the lines, crevices, dimples, and folds of the buttocks to divine the individual’s character and gain an understanding of what has occurred in the past and get a prediction of the future.
Ancient rump reading was done when the seeker covered his or her derriere (rump, butt) with HENNA dye (a brown- orange dye made from plant fibers) and sat on a medium (such as papyrus) to leave a impression, much like a fingerprint, palm, or foot print. Such prints are highly individualistic, as no two people share the same markings.
Jacqueline has discovered that the left and right cheeks reveal a person’s past and future, respectively. The right buttocks represents the left cerebral hemisphere of the brain, while the left buttocks represents the right hemisphere. It is similar to palmistry — where the left palm represents the past and the right palm represents the future. A rump report from Jacqueline Stallone can tell you whether you are going “ass-backwards” or eyes open into the future.
And there’s even more, “the crack”- the gluteal cleft.
“I have been asked many times about the gluteal cleft. It is more than an advertising sign for plumbers, teens, and non-conformists. IT HAS REAL SIGNIFICANCE.
It is a natural part of the human body and of vital importance. It represents the division between the ying/yang, good/bad, light/darkness, between your past– the left cheek and your future — the right cheek.
I have noticed in my years of rumpology reading that it often has characteristics of personality. Many bankers cleft’s are very short; while lawyers are very long. It can also vary in width — with politician’s seemingly extra wide and cop’s notoriously narrow. Have you had a look in the mirror recently at yours?
Modern technology has helped bring the ancient art of Rumpology into the 21st century. Thanks to digital photography, you can take a very accurate picture of your rump, a POSITIVE image, print it and and send it to Jacqueline and have her do a reading! She will analyze the details of your rump, both left and right hemispheres as well as the gluteal cleft and send you a multi-page report.
Upon your payment you will be able to download a Rumpology Report Request Form in which you will provide necessary personal information (your name and address, date of birth, and gender). Simply follow the instructions on the form: fill it out and mail it to Jacqueline Stallone along with a printed photograph of your rump, and you will receive your report.
For $300 a cheek, or just $250 for the crack, in three weeks you could have a rumpology report from Jacqueline.
I wonder: did she foresee this when she read her lesser-known-son, Frank’s ass?
-Lou
(Via Jess Dukes)
If you want to have a great time online, I recommend going to Roger Ebert’s website to read his movie reviews. He’s written about close to every movie—except for Night of the Comet, They Live, The Garbage Pail Kids Movie, and a few others. But there are still a lot of great finds. Whether you agree with him or not—me and Rog disagree big time on Blue Velvet—he’s always worth the read. And he’ll sometimes surprise the shit out of you.
For example: he gave a three-star review to Whoopi Goldberg’s dreadful 1987 cop flick Fatal Beauty. I watched this movie a while back one lonesome Saturday morning in the basement of a Staten Island splint-level ranch.*
Once you get over the the obvious weirdness of Whoopi Goldberg playing a detective named Rita Rizzoli** and Sam Elliott’s character’s*** attraction to her—and you won’t get over either of these—you’ll spend the whole time yelling at your television, “That’s fucking ridiculous!”

This piece of shit made it all the way to France.
Fuck! The trailer makes me want to watch it again.
And you have a point, Ebert. Whoopi was pretty good in that one dramatic, completely out-of-place scene in the movie.
-Lou
—
* Thanks for the accommodations, Greg. I still owe you a place to crash and a shitty movie.
** …Yeah.
*** …He’s in this too.
Three years ago today, June 22, 2008, George Carlin died. One of my most treasured moments was seeing him perform live.
Only three months later he’d be gone. I’m glad I got to see him in time, but I never got the opportunity to meet him. I never got the chance to thank him. But after he died, I found the following quote, which used to hang on the wall above my desk in my old apartment:

It’s been almost a year since I moved. It’s about time I find a good place to hang it.
-Lou