There are roughly two kinds of mornings in my world. The first kind is sort of mundanely alright and you get to check your email, drink coffee and eat a 110-calorie bagel, and the second kind is where you can’t stop thinking about what in the world made you shave a mustache into your facial hair the last time you picked up a razor.
Today was the latter kind.
And then a website helpfully analyzed my writings and informed me that my writings were most similar to the writings of David Foster Wallace.
I immediately responded to this outrage by filing a 1,300-page counterclaim, heavily footnoted, interlaced with tennis anecdotes.
It could be worse. The site thinks Michelle Malkin writes like Dan Brown.
Joey Chestnut won the traditional 4th of July Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest in Coney Island for the fourth straight year Sunday, easily besting a group that was missing Chestnut’s longtime bitter rival, Japan’s Takeru Kobayashi.
Kobayashi was not entered in this year’s contest because of a dispute with event organizers, but still managed to make his presence felt. Clad in a t-shirt adorned with a huge “Free Kobi” message, the former six-time Nathan’s champ tried to rush the stage during Chestnut’s award ceremony, and then struggled with police before being arrested.
The 32-year-old ex-champ was was charged with obstructing governmental administration, resisting arrest and trespassing. He was released early Monday morning.
“I’m really hungry. I wanted to eat hot dogs,” he told the New York Daily News.
In winning the contest for the fourth straight year, Chestnut consumed 54 hot dogs in ten minutes, which grossed everyone out only slightly less than last year’s event, when Kobayashi pushed Chestnut to a record-breaking 68 dogs.
Frank Zappa was on “Make Me Laugh” in 1978. He was tormented by The Unknown Comic and Gallagher. Frank Zappa did not laugh.
My respect for Frank Zappa just went up a notch. Especially after they shot him through the orange disco Space Mountain hyperspeed tube and made him look at Gallagher to try to win furniture for a woman with extremely huge Seventies hair.
(“Gallagher is STILL trying to make someone laugh” — random Youtube commenter.)
OH MY GOD THIS RALEY’S STORE BRAND WHIPPED STYLE CREAM CHEESE IS DELICIOUS! YOU MIGHT NOT THINK IT WOULD BE TRUE BUT IT IS BETTER THAN PHILLY, IT IS BETTER THAN TRADER JOE’S BRAND, IT IS THE BEST, AND IT COSTS CHEAPER! THAT IS INSANE!
IT’S LIGHT AND FLUFFY AND SPREADS EASILY ON YOUR BAGEL OR WHAT HAVE YOU, TOAST, ANY KIND OF BREAD YOU WOULD ENJOY WITH BREAKFAST. YO, RALEY’S WHIPPED STYLE CREAM CHEESE, YOU THE BOMB, DAWG!
ONE DAY I WAS FINDING MYSELF WITH JAY-Z IN A DELIGHTFUL CAFE ON THE WEST SIDE OF NEW YORK — HOLLA BACK JAY-Z, YOU THE MAN NOW DAWG — AND HE GOES “THE SPREAD ON TOP OF THESE BAGELS LACKS A CERTAIN KIND OF FLAIR,” AND I WAS ALL LIKE WHAT U HIGH ON MAN, WHAT FLAIR WHERE IS THAT, AND HE POINTS AND GOES “BAGELS, THIS BAGEL IS NOT QUALITY, I WOULD DO IT UP LIKE THIS” AND THEN HE PULLS OUT A TUB OF RALEY’S WHIPPED STYLE, HE GOT IT IN CALIFORNIA ONCE AND NOW HAS HIS BOY SEND HIM OUT A SHIPMENT ON ICE EVERY THURSDAY, BECAUSE IF YOU KNOW ONE THING ABOUT JAY-Z IT IS THAT HE GOES THROUGH A LOT OF CREAM CHEESE, DAMN MY BOY BE EATING A LOT OF CREAM CHEESE. AND THIS ONE IS THE BEST, HE SAID, AND HE RECITED INGREDIENTS OFF THE TOP OF HIS HEAD, THEY JUST FLOW…
PASTEURIZED MILK AND CREAM, CHEESE CULTURE, SALT, STABILIZERS (WHICH MAY INCLUDE CAROB BEAN AND/OR XANTHAN AND/OR GUAR GUMS), NATAMYCIN (WHICH IS A NATURAL MOLD INHIBITOR IN CASE YOU AIN’T HEARD)SO HE GIVE ME SOME OF HIS STASH AND WE BEEN TIGHT EVER SINCE. I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT 2 TABLESPOONS EQUALS ONLY 70 DELICIOUS CALORIES, AND AIN’T GOT NO TRANS FATS.
HAHA, NO SERIOUSLY YO, WHY LOOKIN’ AT ME LIKE THAT, CHECK OUT THESE DOPE BEATS. NOW LOOK, WHY IT GOTTA BE SURPRISING TO ANYONE THAT I AM A MAN THAT ENJOYS SPREADING SPREADABLE CHEESE ON TOASTED BREAD? ‘CAUSE ANYONE COULD PLAINLY SEE IF THEY LISTENED TO MY RECORDS CORRECTLY.
Cristal Connors: I’ve had dog food.
Nomi Malone: You have?
Cristal Connors: Mmm-hmmm. Long time ago. Doggy Chow. I used to love Doggy Chow.
Nomi Malone: I used to love Doggy Chow, too!
[Cristal and Nomi touch their chips together]
I admitted today on a message board I frequent to having seen Showgirls — which everyone naturally acknowledges is the greatest movie of all time — at least six times. This prompted another user to demand that I justify my existence. Glad to, monsieur!
You know how it starts. You’re at a party, maybe just a gathering of friends who know each other pretty well, jokes and conversation flowing, along with the cheap beer and screwtop wine, and then the conversation somehow turns to So Bad It’s Good. You’ve been there: maybe there’s some small talk about Plan 9 From Outer Space first and then somebody goes OH HELL NAW and brings up Tommy Wiseau and it’s totally fun, because somebody might put a lampshade on their head at any moment — in a completely ironic kind of way! Except after your ex-roommate suggests playing Dark Side of the Moon while watching the Wizard of Oz, somebody else whispers something about “getting real,” and all of a sudden you’re watching this amazing shit happen on the TV set, and you can’t believe they spent $45 million to make this piece of crap, let alone that Joe Eszterhas farted this out of his brain and some executive picked it up and showed it to a fresh-from-Basic Instinct Paul Verhoeven, who then exclaimed something in Dutch that translated roughly to HOLY FUCK, I MUST FILM THIS RIGHT NOW.
Because it’s dogshit, and it’s without the slightest bit of grace, style or even competence, and every actor in this film gives the worst performance of their life and also appears to be gasping for air in every scene in which they appear, especially Kyle Maclachlan, who seems to be strung out on cough syrup and Little Debbie cakes and/or blackmailed by the Mob. There’s so much pointless hand-waving, crotch-thrusting bullshit going on in this movie that it becomes its own language; the film literally invents its own code, laid out in full within the first 20 minutes and repeated faithfully throughout, and that code slowly types out a message from the people who created Showgirls, over and over and over again: FUCK YOU WE HAVE YOUR MONEY NOW.
It’s positively the worst thing you can do to your eyeballs. It makes eardrums bleed. It destroys brain matter. It’s worse than Gigli, really. Except for one thing: it’s amazing.