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Who Are You People And What Are You Woahing At?

Who Are You People And What Are You Woahing At?

I’ll be the first to admit that I have no idea who any of these bands are. I don’t know if they’re famous, I don’t know any of their songs, and I don’t even know if they actually exist. Perhaps they’re all fabricated for the sake of this video, I really wouldn’t know. In some of the clips there are entire stadiums filled with people all singing along to each woah oh oh, but I’m still completely at a loss for who any of these people are.

Am I really that out of touch? I haven’t listened to the radio since Clinton was president, but that shouldn’t come into it — It’s not like they play music on the radio anymore, anyhow. I knew that my taste in music was pretty underground, but I didn’t know It was so far underground that it’s housed somewhere between China and the Earth’s mantle. It’s not like I’m only listening to post-post-indie-rock-core either. I don’t sit in my room with the shades drawn listening to wax Edison records of Gregorian chanting from the Sistine Chapel Lounge. Hell, there’s a lot of woah oh oh and shadoobie doobie doo in the songs that I listen to, I just seem to have missed a memo or something with all of these newish bands.

Maybe if I hide they’ll all go away and I can finally go outside again. If it works for debt collectors and census takers, it’ll probably work on these guys too.

They’re Very Musical People, Aren’t They?

They’re Very Musical People, Aren’t They?

Storage facility owners, that is — I’m not sure what you thought I was referring to. Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s just a joke. I know no one’s laughing, but it was worth a shot. I’d classify it as dead on arrival, but someone might have caught what I was pitching and chuckled.

You see, in the modern world of telling bad jokes on the Intertunnel, it’s hard to tell what will get a giggle out of people, and what will get the SWAT team sent to your house. I try to land somewhere in the region of getting disapproving looks from across the dinner table. Any further than that and someone might give me a stern talking to, which is the last thing I want. The trick is to be so vague and incomprehensible that no one actually knows if you’ve said anything bad or not.

If all else fails, just tell everyone that you were trying to start a commentary on the current political climate. That line works regardless of what the current political climate actually is, Think of it as a get out of jail free card for being a twerp on the Intertunnel. I’m the foremost twerp on the Intertunnel, so it’s a good idea to take my advice to heart.

The Top Three Best Worst Music Videos Ever

The Top Three Best Worst Music Videos Ever

In a world filled with bands that no one’s ever heard of, making music that no one wants to hear, in genres that defy explanation, several music videos stand out from the rest. By stand out from the rest I don’t mean that they’re good, or even slightly better than all the other ones. They’re simply the first three I could find that didn’t make me want to puke on my own shoes. I’m not including the legendary Zlad! on the list, because it’s in a league of its own. Zlad! is the standard that everything is measured against.

Without any further ado, here are the best worst music videos I could find in my bookmarks at three in the morning after a long day of drinking white Russians and sleeping:

There will always be a special place in my heart for any video that manages to capture the magic of Michael Jackson’s terrifying, deformed face without actually having to go within 100 yards of an actual video of him. For providing mild entertainment for the first thirty seconds that I watched the video, Indian Thriller gets third place.

Despite all outward appearances, this video was not made in a depressing hellhole somewhere in the Soviet Bloc where the concrete floor has a slight slope that leads to a sewer drain, so vice-chancellor Azarov won’t get any blood on his loafers when his guards give dissidents a .22 lobotomy. It was made in Sweden, which is the home of IKEA, vikings, and people who think that the Führerbunker was the pinnacle of modern architecture.

I don’t think I need to say anything about this one. Remember, you don’t have to watch the whole video if you start feeling sick. We are not responsible for any damage to you or your property that results from watching this video.

Everything Is Terrible, Nothing Will Ever Be Okay

Everything Is Terrible, Nothing Will Ever Be Okay

The end is nigh, nigh I say. We’ve gone from a world of infinite possibilities to a world of a single possibility, and it doesn’t look good. The only thing we know for certain is that this guy is never going to stop clapping and there’s nothing we can do about it. He’s like the terminator, but for clapping: The Clappinator. Terrifying.

I don’t think the world will recover after this. Sifting though the ashes of our once-great society after it’s put to the torch by the Clappinator doesn’t sound very appealing to me. You can count me out. I’m going to go start a new society with blackjack and hookers. It’ll be like when King Henry the VIII separated the English church from Rome, except with less dead wives and more funny hats. I prefer my wives to be alive regardless of their ability to fart out heirs. At least, I think that’s how it works.

Now’s the time to plan ahead; where will you be when the Clappinator rains down fiery death from the heavens. I’ll be on my space platform in space with enough canned beans to create a civilization of fart-based lifeforms, and my not-dead wives. Beat that.

(Update: we have another contender for the bringer of all death and misery in the world.)