What Happens In Vegas

I just don't understand constipation.  If you don't have to shit, don't shit.  When you feel like taking a shit you are no longer constipated.  Yeah, you think you're constipated if you sit on the toilet and it won't come out?  But you're really just a hypochondriacal fool who tries to shit more often than the rest of the shitting population (everyone poops).  God I love poop. Constipation is a well-perpetuated myth.   

What are the benefits of a well-toned sphincter?  Why don't you ask Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher.  I'm just guessing they know.  Look at them clenching up there!  OK, I'm making myself laugh.  "Get Lucky" it says - Ed. Note: ERRRRRRRR (the sound of clenching)

And I mean I want to read some academic's exhaustive sphincter abstract but I don't want to transmit some fecal meme by translating all that poopy jargon into your constipated vernacular.  That's Cliff's job.  He makes special notes for special people who don't like fucking reading.   And I've got a suggestion for you.  Want it? You actually don't because it'll hurt.  I suggest that Ashton Kutcher is the masterfully-formed (nice one, dude!) log of caca in your crapper.  Cameron Diaz is the jism on a fat executive producer's heated, ass-massaging, German-engineered car seat in a well-appointed garage in the Hamptons.  

Do you think I watched this movie?  Hell yes I did! I want a toned sphincter also.  Let me in on the secret, Hollywood!  Oh I have some fantasies!  But Rothbarth, J., et. al. are there to preclude their (the fantasies') actualization. --The outcome of anterior sphincter repair deteriorates with time after surgery--

Thanks, now it's time to kill myself as my anterior sphincter repair has already begun to degrade and I'm (once again) going incontinent.  God I love my life as director Tom Vaughan.  

Wait! What's this I found in the toilet?  Wooo it's Cameron "Poop" Diaz sweetly mingling with Ashton "Feces Face" Kutcher.  Aren't they cute together?  Isn't life simply beautiful?

I say YES! 

I happily award What Happens In Vegas a pristine 5.0 anti-fucking bears

Bears?! Don't even mention them! They don't live in the same universe as this cinematic thingy.  They live in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge with the awesome pipes drawing oil from the rad earth.   

Danny Danny Danny wrote this

          

Ahoy, Tumbleweed Ho!

This is a review of everyone's favorite panhandle- Oklahoma's. It's always been my favorite, and not just because I have lived in Oklahoma for my entire life. No, it's because Oklahoma has the grandest panhandle of them all, in my opinion. Texas and Nebraska's are too short and stubby, while Florida's and Idaho's are marked by natural boundaries (I am assuming) like the ocean and mountain ranges, so they at least seem somewhat justified. Never has there been a panhandle that seems so needlessly tacked on in meaningless fashion like Oklahoma's. Apparently it sounds like the three counties of Cimarron, Texas, and Beaver (west to east) were almost given to Oklahoma by default; the "No Man's Land" that formed when the Kansas, New Mexico, and Texas borders were determined was thrown in with OK when it became a state in 1907.

The only thing more preposterous than having this panhandle would be to take a trip out there, and this is exactly what we did last Saturday (we being my mom and my sister, no I don't have any other friends. I tip my hat to them for being willing to do something so pointless though). I mean, what kind of Oklahomans can we call ourselves if we have never been to the state's most prominent feature? We trucked it out there all the way to Boise City, which is the last "town" in Cimarron county---they have a golf course there so my sister and I took clubs. As soon as we made it into the panhandle (at a town called Slapout, OK (and by town I mean one house and an abandoned gas station)) what did I see? A tumbleweed! Now I feel like Charz at some point had a discussion as to whether these even existed, other than their being formed when 'Kros told a joke. Well rest assured, they do. The land out there is arid plains for as far as you can see in either direction, and there are a few barns and telephone poles lining either side of the road. It is a bit eerie, giving off a slight twilight zone sort of feel.

And by golf course I mean 9 holes in the middle of flat farmland. There are barely any trees- no sandtraps, no water hazards, no nothing. The wind is constantly blowing- or rather, gusting- across the prairie and it NEVER quits. You have to aim about 45 degrees left or right of where you want the ball to go. We talked to some farmer and he said that the course was built and is maintained by volunteer farmers and ranchers in the area. I have to give them credit for creating it, and knowing that, it was actually in pretty reasonable condition. I have a photo of me and my mom sitting in the golf cart on the fourth tee box; about 5 yards away are two gargantuan cows grazing in a field. On the very first tee box I was trying to determine where I was and what I was doing there- fortunately another tumbleweed blew across the fairway which helped me come back to reality.

Bears- 2.5. It was quite a trip out to the panhandle. I'm not going to admit just how long we spent in the car in order to play these nine "holes" of golf. Preposterous is the only word that I can think of- so senseless as to be laughable.

Anti-bears- 4.0. I'm always up for something that is so senseless as to be laughable, and I throughly enjoyed every acre of desolation that I saw this weekend. With so many housing editions, banks, and Wal-Marts going in around town, I slept better this weekend feeling that the world (at least in square area) seems a little bigger again. And it was a step towards being a more well-rounded and educated Oklahoma citizen.

Review - parking tickets.

Anti-bears: 0.
Fuck parking tickets.

Bears: 5.
Fuck parking tickets.

Yet another fucking self-titled album that will be known by the color on the cover: a first look at the first single

Yes, sigh, Weezer have not given up yet. "Weezer" (Blue, '94) and "Pinkerton" days having long ago passed, and "Weezer" (Green, '01) and "Maladroit" having slowly pushed remaining fans to indifference years ago (and "Make Believe" further solidifying the fact that no one would ever, ever give a shit about what this band does ever again), most of us breathed heavy relief when the band dissolved in 2006. After having heard Beverly Hills one too many times (which, it should be noted, was the first time I heard it...I unfortunately suffered through it many many more times, never of my own fault or selection), I thought Rivers Cuomo would be sent to Guantanamo for his unique breed of sonic terrorism against music fans everywhere. He wasn't, but his proclamation that the band would no longer exist was good enough for me.

Not long ago word began to surface that America's premier 90s nerd rockers would throw another pile of shit onto the shelves of retailers everywhere, and with the announcement I imagined the intention would be that stupid kids would latch onto it hoping to achieve the same kind of adoration for the record their siblings, and (holy shit) maybe even parents by this point had done back in '94 for the band's legitimately awesome debut release, and again in '96 for the introspective and quirky left-field follow up. It's pretty obvious that anyone who has heard the most recent releases has definitely jumped the =w= ship, but maybe the novelty of releasing multiple self-titled albums is still backhandedly chuckle-worthy in some backwoods village where the internet hasn't pierced every soul. I, for one, however, wanted nothing to do with "Weezer" ('08, Red).

I was browsing the internet today and I stumbled upon their first single, Pork and Beans. Pork and FUCKING Beans!!! Damn, I haven't heard a single note and I'm already getting queasy. I've been pretty angry today (for work-related reasons I'd rather not discuss...though for the record, fuck my job), and though I knew it'd be something I regretted, all semblances of rational thinking have flown out the window today and so I clicked the link and listened to the song. I know, I know.

So, impressions? I've had the song playing in the background for as long as I've been writing this. So far, I don't want to kill myself yet, but I am getting angrier and angrier. He's singing about not giving a shit about what people think and about pork and beans and getting old and pandering to the masses and some other shit (I heard Timbaland's name in there...this song has the makings of being a Kros classic), and I can't help but feel that it's either a postmodern declaration of the cliche they've become as a band, or just another shitty single. It's not as shitty as anything I heard from "Make Believe", but it's still pretty bad in the vapid-but-melodic way that "Weezer" (Green, '01) was bad. Actually it's definitely worse than any track on that album or even "Maladroit". At least it sounds a lot better than Beverly Hills even if the lyrics are dumb as shit.

Rating:
Anti-bears: 2.
Rock-bottom was established with the last album and especially the singles from it. Pork and Beans isn't quite as terrible as that was. Also, since I never listen to the radio, hardly ever go to the Mall, have friends with pretty decent taste in music, and MTV doesn't play videos anymore, I doubt I'll ever have to hear this again.

Bears: 5.
This song's a pile of shit. Weezer haven't broken up yet, and there hasn't been a massive recall on their last three albums. While I may not have to hear this song again, I'll definitely have to hear about it if I keep reading the things I read online. Where the fuck did Matt Sharp go?

For the daring: http://weezer.com/