How Low Can You Go?

How Low Can You Go?

Those crazy Finndanenorseswedes, what will they get up to next? Before you know it they’ll form little book clubs, travel around from seaport to seaport in long-ish boats pillaging the countryside, and carrying off slightly less attractive women than they already have at home. I can’t  remember the last time anyone sensible went on a murderous, intercontinental rampage. The Mongols have been strangely quiet in recent years, the Vikings are too obsessed with soccer and writing plays where no one says anything, and the Huns — well I’m not sure about the Huns. I think they got taken over by the Garians. How would I know? They don’t write. They don’t call. 

Maybe the Finnswedenorsedanes have figured out that it’s a lot easier to be a vague nuisance to your friends, neighbors, and countrymen than to get the horde back together, man. The logistics of keeping multiple continents in your frosty iron grip gets complicated. Do you know how much it costs to equip every soldier in your army with proper flaying equipment? For the same price you could just import human skin and skin-based products from any country known as a People’s Democratic Republic. Anything goes there already, so invading would be superfluous.

Terrorizing the world isn’t as easy as it used to be. Bieber gave it a go from his icy lair in the north, but the last Canadian that really scared anyone was Brian Mulroney, I think. If you really want to be a thorn in the World’s side, run a blog; it’s a lot cheaper than many of the alternatives, and it’s as cold as Norsedaneswedeland in mom’s basement anyway. You’re halfway there already. 

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em; If You Can’t Join ‘Em, Be A Nuisance Until You’re Escorted Out Of The Building

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em; If You Can’t Join ‘Em, Be A Nuisance Until You’re Escorted Out Of The Building

I’ve always had a certain fondness for Canada and its inhabitants. They’re a friendly bunch and I can appreciate that. If you’re always friendly and happy, people will start to think there’s something wrong with you and avoid you at parties, which is preferred over actually talking to anyone at said party.

The friendliness also lends an air of mystery, because you never know what lurks behind that smile. Maybe they don’t actually like hockey that much, and it’s all a ruse. What if we’re being taken on a ruse cruise by the entire country of Canada? I’m not sure what they’d actually accomplish by projecting a positive demeanor, but stranger things have happened. Maybe they’re trying to hide all the death camps in Manitoba where they send people without health insurance to work in the maple syrup mines.

Whatever you do, don’t refer to Canada as America’s hat — they get all pissy about that. Always refer to America as Canada’s shirt, and Mexico as Canada’s pants.

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.

Do You Smell That? That’s The Smell Of Victory — And Shaq

Do You Smell That? That’s The Smell Of Victory — And Shaq

I feel like something terrible has happened to me, but I can’t remember what it was. It feels like I was abducted by aliens, except aliens have the decency to give you a lollipop and a kind word after they probe you. Perhaps I’m thinking of something else, but the sentiment remains the same. I don’t appreciate unsolicited probing from anyone, and I especially don’t appreciate it coming from a Gold Bond foot powder commercial. I really don’t know how much information you can gather from a bum, but I absolutely forbid anyone trying to gather any information from mine. My body is a temple, among other things, and trans-dimensional Shaq-like beings are not allowed access to the service entrance.

Coincidentally trans-dimensional Shaq-like beings is the name of my Ace Of Base tribute band, but that’s a story for another time.