If you haven’t heard, one of John McCain’s top advisers has stated that the Republican Presidential Candidate “helped create” the BlackBerry. You can expect the liberal media to seize upon these statements as being ridiculous or outright lies, and spend the next several days lampooning the hubris of a campaign that would that would even make such a claim when their candidate freely admits to his inability to understand computers or send emails. But in their haste to ridicule McCain – who was also a WAR HERO, let me remind you – the gay Jewcommie media elite probably didn’t bother to check out the facts (which they could have easily found on Wikipedia). Being the fair and balanced pop culture comedy blog that we are, I’m here to tell you that McCain’s claims are the God’s honest truth.
You see, McCain’s advisor was actually referring to blackberries the fruit, not the ubiquitous mobile telecommunications devices. And John McCain did in fact help “create” the blackberry foodstuff inasmuch as he was one of the first settlers to introduce this fruits delicious pleasures to his fellow white Western colonists. As legend has it, McCain first learned about blackberries from an old Injun trail scout named Bear Runner he met back when he was a POW during the War of 1812. Receiving no food from their captors (who also tortured them), McCain and Bear Runner were forced to forage berries from the shrubs surrounding their wooden prison – which is how he came to taste the Blackberry. Astounded by the fruit’s potential for sweet-but-tangy deliciousness, McCain oversaw it’s mass integration into the American diet and watched it grow in popularity due to its many versatile uses in jams, pies, and Old Timey Sweet Molassey Butter. In addition to their appeal as cooking and baking ingredients, Blackberries are also high in antioxidants, which is one of McCain’s long-kept secrets to his extraordinary longevity.
So while your Al Gores might get away with claiming to have invented the Internet, John McCain is the only candidate who can say he helped create a fruit.
It’s too bad every town can’t be Gotham City, each with their own Dark Knights protecting the populous from heinous supervillains with scary names and dangerous obsessions. One such depraved evil-doer, a man known only as The Butt Bandit, has been tormenting a small Nebraska town for more than a year now, and despite their best efforts, the traditional law enforcement agencies seem unable to put an end to his reign of anal terrorism. From the AP Story:
Beginning more than a year ago, some man has been skipping from one business to another at night, pressing his naked behind â€” sometimes his groin, sometimes both â€” on windows. Store owners, church workers and school janitors have had to wash lotion and petroleum jelly off the windows he selects. [...]
The police chief is far from amused. “It’s not funny,” McBride said. “We’re worried about the next step.”
Not funny is right. If only there were a real caped crusader who could deliver these poor people, and their lube-smeared windows, from these terrifying atrocities. Someone calling themselves The Buttplug, perhaps? Anyway, if comic-crazed Hollywood is paying any kind of attention, all those Dark Knight sequel casting concerns about a villain crazy enough to fill The Joker’s purple shoes could be easily assuaged by the introduction of The Butt Bandit to Gotham City. It’s the role Will Ferrell was born to play.
But in all seriousness, if you or anyone you know has any information regarding the whereabouts of The Butt Bandit, we beseech you to do the right thing and call the Valentine, Nebraska authorities on their special Butt Bandit Tips hotline 1-800-ASS-GRAB.
You know, Jared Leto has always sort of seemed like the kind of dude who gets his information about the world by skimming the front page of USA Today (but not bothering to actually buy or read it). Whatever, at least it’s not The Post.
(via Jared Leto Photo Gallery – I go there every day)
So after a long stretch of desolate summer Fridays with no new Best Week Ever episodes to give you the pop culture fix you’ve been so desperately needing, our show made its triumphant return to your TiVo’s last Friday night – and just in time for Britney’s big comeback at the VMA’s. In case you missed the show, we’ve provided the full episode for you below:
Here’s adorable indie darling couple Andy Samberg and Joanna Newsom getting in some quality cuddle time together backstage at Fashion Week in New York. A bunch of other great behind-the-scenes celeb pictures by photographer Nina Westervelt in this gallery over at Stylelist.
So Saturday Night Live last weekend. Tina Fey was great. Michael Phelps clearly has a bright future as an actor. And our man Lil Wayne delivered the biggest laughs of the night by performingwhat was undoubtedly the worst/best/worst-again guitar solo in known human history. At the end of his otherwise enjoyable performance of “Lollipop”, standing on the very same stage where GE Smith used to shred face every Saturday night, Weezy whipped out his axe and launched into a guitar solo that can only be described as what a brain-damaged blind person might look like playing Guitar Hero, on Easy level, while blacked out on booze and pills. This is to the long storied history of Guitar Solos what Ashlee Simpson was to singing.
If you’re one of the few people lucky enough to live within driving distance of the Indian Head Center For the Performing Arts, get thyself there immediately to catch one of the greatest theatrical experiences you will find in America today. Not since Brando’s turn as Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire has there been a stage actor in more command of their powers than
Paul Scheer Greg Hendersol, whose painstakingly faithful renderings of Vince, Drama, Eric, Turtle and Ari from Entourage is a true tour de force. In Entourage LIVE!, Paul manages to find the soul-shattering humanity beneath the TV series’ tales of three-way sex with models, fancy sports cars, failing film careers, friendship, and berating of one’s assistant with gay slurs and hurled cell phones.
You guys remember that game in Highlights Magazine where youâ€™d have to spot how many things were wrong with a picture? Letâ€™s do that now, except with trying to spot things that are douchey about the following story of Michael Phelps‘ date with one of the girls from Sunset Tan. Sent to us via E!:
You would think with all his time spent in the pool Michael Phelps would have no need for artificial tanning (1), but the Olympic champ did just that in Vegas (2) this past weekend and got more out of it than just a little color.
Sunset Tan worker Amber Peterson tells E! Phelps asked her out (3) to dinner Friday night after she gave him and his friends (4) complimentary airbrush tans (5). â€œHe wore a disposable brief (6) and it reminded me a lot of his trademark Speedo,â€ said Peterson. She also said the scantily clad Phelps had a tattoo on his right hip (7), a symbol of the Olympic gold rings (8).
Once clothed, the group headed to N9NE Steakhouse (9) in the Palms Hotel and Casino where Peterson says Phelps lived up to his reputation of having a hearty appetite, eating steak, shrimp, lobster, corn, and macaroni (10). [...]
Throughout dinner Peterson said Phelps was the perfect gentleman, even making her feel better after spilling a drink on his lap. â€œI spilled a Shirley Temple (11) in his lap! He was a great sport about it and didn’t get angry. He just laughed and said, â€˜It happens and it will dry!â€™” (12)
The two discussed Phelps desire to swim again in the next Olympics, his preference of frosted flakes over Wheaties (13) (heâ€™s the new face of frosted flakes), and his excitement for the upcoming MTV VMAâ€™s. â€œHe was excited to be a part of the show and said his tan was going to look good on TV,â€ (14) said Peterson.
After dinner the two went to Moon nightclub (15) where Peterson said they â€œdanced the night away.â€ They also exchanged phone numbers and Peterson says they â€œhave exchanged textsâ€ since (16).
See the corresponding commentary to each number, after the jump!
The poster for Lindsay Lohan’s upcoming movie Labor Pains, you guys. It’s basically like Knocked Up and I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry got high on crystal and had an illegitimate child who turned out to be some mouthy brat with a low IQ bordering on retardation. Judging by this poster and the trailer, I’m gonna wager a wild guess this movie was made by the same people who brought us The Hottie and the Nottie. You know, I’d actually like Lindsay Lohan a whole lot better if she quit pretending to be an actress already and just accepted the fact that she’s essentially Paris Hilton with freckles and a girlfriend.
If you’re anything like me, you probably feel like it’s been far too long since those halcyon days leading up to the 2004 Oscars, during which time every magazine, TV show, radio broadcast and Bar Mitzvah featured Jamie Foxx campaigning to take home a trophy. I really miss that. Luckily, it looks like Foxx’s upcoming project The Soloist will bring with it the long-awaited return of the famed Jamie Foxx Oscar Lobby, because in it he portrays a schizophrenic homeless cello player who’s still amazing, if only his talent could be rediscovered by some well-meaning also down-on-his-luck journalist with the kind of charming personality that could lead to the unlikeliest of friendships (ironically played by Robert Downey Jr., whose last film lambasted actors for such shameless Oscar-baiting). Though The Soloist may have actually been the film they were making fun of in Tropic Thunder, because it’s basically a combination of Shine, Radio, Ray and Basquiat.