Celebrity Japanese Commercial: Tommy Lee Jones

And now you know.

 

 

 

Of course if you missed his classic songs, you can check out the latest here:

Godzilla!

So if you haven’t heard, Legendary is taking another crack at an American Godzilla. Here is the sculpture the movie makers are supposedly using as their model.

This is for several reasons:

a) Hollywood doesn’t have two original ideas to rub together to save celebs from all the plastic surgery they get to inflate an already ridiculous idea of ‘beauty’.

b) American Godzilla didn’t go over as intended, money wise. So having hopefully learned that deviating from already proven and working idea, Legendary pictures is going back and sticking (generally) to the original concept.

c) Godzilla is awesome.

I am not sure how I feel about this because I am a rather huge Godzilla fan. I was very upset with the last version and am very apprehensive about the 2014 release. The Japanese were insulted enough to add the American Godzilla to the last Japanese Godzilla movie called Final Wars in which ‘Zilla’ gets his ass handed to him quite pointedly.

Still, I have a kernel of hope after seeing the basic idea for Godzilla’s appearance.  Here is the sculpture the movie makers are supposedly using as their model.

What do you think?

Source

I Will Now Play Legend Of Zelda Through Interpretative Dance

If I saw this commercial as a kid, I would have been beyond confused and might not have picked up a Nintendo controller.

 

 

Then again……

A Contest!

Who wants to try something different? Lets have a contest. Located below are three pictures. Your job is to construct a paragraph that is the summary description of a novel around the three pictures below. I haven’t decided what the prize will be. I’ll work on that, till then get cracking! You have till next Sunday, 5/21/11.

HINT: It has to make me laugh.

The Dream.

What is your dream?

What is it that gets you up and motivates you to venture out into the great unknown, punch your time card in a neurotic haze then come home exhausted, full of ambition and Qdoba, just to get distracted by American Idol or tabbed browsing, but tomorrow totally going to start reaching for that new waist size so you can fit into those new Japanese hot-pants for whatever reason?

Do you dream about living on a beach and building topless mermaids with your son? Do you dream about being the next big actor(ess) in HollyWeird making high-caliber soft-core porn flicks disguised as edgy and hard-hitting movies of the year, when in fact it is just Debbie Does Dallas with less dialog, more bush, and Brad Pitt? Or do you dream of something more practical? Something more everyday and mundane that everybody can relate to; Like your boss giving you the respect and acknowledgement you have slaved to achieve, asking the girl in the cubical two rows across from you if she is free Friday, you know for the jello wrestling contest, or maybe you just want to find a decent guy to settle down with and squeeze some babies out.

Well, we all have our dreams, our little secrets that grab us by the heart, and/or testicles/ovaries, and guide our ambitions and desires into some sort of fulfillment, big or small we all have them. We need these things, those little blips of hope and insanity that start festering as interesting ideas then grow and pustule into wide open fantasy. We need our dreams as much as we need air, women need Oprah, Jenny needs the block, or a fat kid needs a cupcake. These little delusions are what keep us going, they make us happy.

We would all hit it

So what is your dream?

Want to know my dream? It is simple, I want to be a professional writer. No I’m not deluded into thinking I will make millions and have cocaine parties with Sponge Bob and Mickey Rourke, while covered in Vaseline and in a speedo. I would like to make a respectable living piecing together ideas and stories from my wildly overactive imagination. I would like to share my thoughts and stories with the world and see what it has to say. I want to live on a beach with an office looking over the ocean with a wife and little rug-rats running around everywhere asking me if kittens are supposed to poop glittered green army men, and make enough money from novels, entertainment columns, or even corporate work for the man to support all our lives. Just enough to where I can live comfortable, do what I love doing, and most importantly be happy. I want to hear my little mini replica’s feet pattering on the floor and laughing as they play. I want my wife to feel secure and relaxed, not only more sex but because that old saying going, happy wife means happy life. It might be a pipe dream, but it is my pipe dream.

My dream