We regret to inform you that Which Uncle Touched You? will be going on hiatus for a couple of months while our main contributor goes to Russia to work on a film. Please pray that he returns with one of these:
And not one of these:
Yeah… people can make very questionable decisions in sub-zero temperatures.
There are a lot of things I could say about this terrifying photo of Danny Trejo, but I won’t say any of them because I’m afraid he might murder me in my sleep. If I were going to comment on this photo, however, I would say that my major concern is what’s happening just below the frame of the shot. What the fuck is he doing with his other hand? I only see two options:
1) He’s jerking off. In this scenario he’s laughing because he knows that everyone will focus on the fact that he’s releasing a dove and try to make some artistic comment about the amazing juxtaposition of the delicate beauty of the dove and the harsh brutality of Danny’s face (their words, Danny, not mine). Meanwhile, Danny’s just rubbing one out and plotting the deaths of everyone in the room. Juxtapose that, motherfuckers.
2) He’s holding a gun. In this scenario he’s laughing because he knows that right after the picture is taken, he’s going to shoot the dove. When everyone on set cries out in horror, he’s going to turn the gun on them and mumble, “You putos heard the one about the Mexican and the dove? No? Me neither. Now suck on this”. This scenario also ends with everyone dead.
But like I said earlier, I’m not going to make those comments because I like breathing. Thank you for continuing to allow me that luxury, Danny Trejo. You are a kind master.
I am taking a few moments out of celebrating my birthday to deliver this message to the tools at Facebook: ”Take a big step back… and literally, FUCK YOUR OWN FACE”. You deleted my page because of its title and because the main pic is of a drunk girl passed out on a deck chair (fully clothed, I might add). Seriously? When did Mussolini start working in your regulations department? Wow… ever read a little book called 1984? You are the new Big Brother, and it is now my duty to destroy you. No worries- you’ll follow in the footsteps of Friendster and MySpace sooner than you think. See you in Hell.
Recently my girlfriend had been having some body-image issues. She’d put on a few pounds and was feeling very self-concious. Although I was having fun with the extra weight (bigger boobs), I understood that she wasn’t happy, so introduced her to a buddy of mine who’s a personal trainer. After a few months of hard-core workouts, strict dieting and a few supplements, the results she achieved were amazing. Here are her before and after photos:
The sex is still great, but lately, she keeps trying to do me from behind. It’s a little disconcerting, but, hey… I love her.
It always amazes me how ignorant people are about their dogs. I was finishing my hike today when I saw a woman’s dog snarl and lunge at another dog. The woman yelled at her dog, “Toby! No!” Then she said to the other animal’s owner,”I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what got into him!” Umm, he’s a fucking dog- that’s what got into him… you idiot. You can put sweaters on Toby, feed him vegan dog food, bring other dogs over for doggie birthday parties and even take him to the pet psychologist to try and get him to stop pooping behind the couch, but when it comes right down to it, Toby is not a child… he’s a dog. I would tell you to have a real child if you have such a need to dress something up and show it off to people, but judging from the shitty job you’re doing with your dog, I think it’s probably better that you never be allowed to procreate. My only hope for Toby is that one day he has enough of his Juicy Couture hoody, his rhinestone collar and his tasteless food, and he jumps up and bites that chick in her ass. Good boy, Toby! Goooodddd boyyyyyy!
Ricky Gervais = Genius
Anyone that can get you to laugh at AIDS jokes is a comedic wizard. Once again, Ricky, you have amazed me. This fucking skit kills me every single time I watch it. Liam Neeson has long been one of my favorites, but watching him play the worst improv partner in the history of theatre, might have just pushed him into my Top 10 (a huge honor, to be sure). I can’t wait to use some of Liam’s conversation killers in my personal life:
Woman: Maybe go a little slower and not so hard…
Me: I don’t take notes.
Or…
Awful Ex-Girlfriend: Been a long time… you look good. So, what have you been up to these past few-
Me: I have full blown AIDS.
Aaannnnd… SCENE.
What. The fuck. Was that? I had to watch this trailer four times and then go to IMDB to make sure that this wasn’t a joke. No, someone really thought that this was a good idea for a movie. And what’s worse, someone actually gave them money to make it (although it couldn’t have been much considering they didn’t have this guy doing the VO in the trailer… if you don’t have that guy, your movie sucks balls).
What probably happened is some midget wrote the script (which I didn’t know they were allowed to do), the lead actors read it, thought they might get nominated for some awards and took pay-cuts, and some dip-shit threw money at it thinking that he would be involved in an “art film”. Well, Chris Hanley, I can throw a turd at the wall and call it art, but that doesn’t make it so (pretty sure I tried that when I was six and caught a beating for it… you deserve one as well for this “film”).
Two major thoughts on this debacle:
1. Kate, if your character fucks a midget in this film, I’m done with you. Although… that might be the only interesting twist this movie could have… yeah, imagine the look on Wooderson’s… sorry, I mean Matthew’s face when he learns that he has a normal size son, but that it came from his midget brother fucking his wife. Aaaaaaaahhhhh! The humanity!! Sequel? No, fuck you, Hanley, I was joking.
2. Did the VO guy really say, “and Gary Oldman in the role of a lifetime”? Seriously, VO guy? Did you not see True Romance or The Professional, or basically any other movie Gary Oldman has graced with his presence? He is hands-down one of the best actors to ever walk this earth, and now he’s playing the midget brother to Wooderson… damn it… McConaughey? Has he mastered every normal height role? Maybe to challenge himself he decided that he would have to play a character that was under four feet tall. His thought process must have been, “Well, Serkis has cornered the market on creature roles, the Wayans killed it with the midget acting like a baby stuff (I really hope my sarcasm about LiTTLEMAN is coming through clearly), so I guess I’m gonna have to go straight-midget on these mother-fuckers”. This is the only possible explanation I have for his involvement in this turd-on-the-wall production.
As for the money people, they must have thought it was White Boy Day.
I met the most entertaining valet in the world the other night. My buddy and I came out of the restaurant, and I handed the valet guy my ticket. He looked at the ticket, then back at me and asked, “Which car is yours?” Now I’m no scientist, but I think you just match the numbers on my ticket with the corresponding numbers on a set of keys. Maybe he had a different method, and he seemed pretty nice, so I decided to do it his way.
I turned around to point at my car and realized that it was the only one in the entire lot. I turned back to him, and he was still eagerly awaiting my response. I looked to my buddy, who was trying his best not to laugh. The valet politely asked again which car was mine. I looked over my shoulder at my white Explorer… just to make sure this was really happening, and then turned to him and said, “The blue one”.
He smiled and ran ten feet into the parking lot. He went towards my car, saw that it was white, turned to his right, ran three feet, stopped, looked around in vain, ran eight feet to the left, spun around and then ran back to us. My buddy and I were pissing ourselves. If this dude was serious, I felt really bad for laughing. If he was putting us on, he was my new favorite person. Either way, he was awesome.
“Did you say it was blue?” I told him not to worry about it, took the keys out of his hand, gave him a nice tip, and then laughed the whole way home. But seriously, if anyone needs a job, hit me up, and I’ll tell you the name of the restaurant… because I’m pretty sure they’ll need to fill a valet vacancy soon.
So I took the twenty-dollar bill from the Blind Guy, rang the sale and quickly gave him his change. Wait… was he watching me? If he indeed was a sex robot and not a blind guy, this could be a clue. I stared at him while he fumbled with the change to see if he would make a mistake and actually look at the money while he counted it instead of just feeling it. He looked in my general direction an said, “It’s not polite to stare”. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! What the fuck? I would have taken this as a sign that he was for sure a sex robot, but I’d seen people do that in movies, and movies are never wrong.
The bar was slammed so I quickly forgot about the Blind Guy that might have been a porn android sent from the future to kill me… or rape me, whichever he was programmed to do (and it absolutely would not stop… ever). After taking a few trips around the bar and helping several other customers, Blind Guy’s friend waved me over. Seriously? Blind Guy couldn’t possibly have finished his Corona yet… unless, he was pouring it out on the floor to hide the fact that he was a Rape-inator robot and couldn’t ingest liquids. Shit. I hope he and his master would at least have the decency to rape me somewhere secluded so I could act like it never happened (you know, like most of my ex-girlfriends did).
When I reached Blind Guy’s friend, he pointed to Blind Guy and said, “He wants to talk to you”. Okayyyyyy… was this now part of an After-School Special where we were supposed to learn that blind people should be treated just the same as the rest of us? Well, guess what? They shouldn’t be treated the same. You know why? Because THEY CAN’T FUCKING SEE. Ever play catch with a blind kid? Ever ask your blind buddy to be the Designated Driver? Ever thank the blind surgeon for saving your uncle’s life? No. They are no better or worse than anyone else, but there are certain things they shouldn’t be doing; at the top of that list is sitting at my bar pretending to be a Japanese-crafted sex robot.
He had a question? Fine. I would play along. He asked me how much beers cost at this bar, and I told him that imports cost $5.50. Why? “Well, then you didn’t give me enough change,” he replied. He then showed me the $4.50 that I had supposedly given him. He had handed me a twenty, so he should have received $14.50 in change. I looked at him (not directly) to see if this was a blind guy joke. He wasn’t smiling. I turned to his buddy, who also wasn’t amused. Shit. It was really busy, so maybe I thought I grabbed the two fives out of the register when I really didn’t. It was possible. So I gave him some more change, apologized, and continued around the bar. I didn’t feel too bad because it was an honest mistake- I would never steal from someone. Unless they were a rape-droid that had targeted me for molestation… but I had no proof of that… yet.
My next trip around the bar, Blind Guy’s friend stopped me again and pointed to the Blind Guy? What the fuck was up with these assholes? Now I was sure they were fucking with me. I was agitated and a bit scared so I addressed Blind Guy with an aggressive, “Yeah. Whaddaya need?”
BG: You still didn’t give me the right change.
Me: Yeah, I did.
BG: No, now you’ve only given me $9.50.
Me: Are you serious?
BG: Yes. See?
Me: Yeah. I’m the only one of us here that can see (I didn’t say that, but it would have been killer if I did).
I looked at the $9.50 on the bar.
Me: Are you sure there wasn’t another five in there?
BG: Yes.
I looked to Blind Guy’s friend, who couldn’t believe that I was questioning Blind Guy. Was that just a ploy to make me feel bad so I would give them an extra five? Was this how this sick bastard made money- by parading around his sex robot as a blind guy and then guilting unsuspecting bartenders into giving them extra money, because they wouldn’t have the nerve to accuse a blind person of being a thief? Blind People are different from us in that they can’t see, but I’m sure some of them can be assholes just like the rest of us (Exhibit A). So was this a nice blind guy, a sadistic blind guy, or the C-3P0 of rape? I wasn’t sure, but I had to make a decision about the money.
I chose the safe route. I gave the Blind Guy another five, apologized and said I would buy him his next beer. He acted surprised and grateful to hear my offer (damn this robot was good with facial expressions!). I walked away and thought about the situation- man, I really wasn’t trying to steal from this rape-bot/blind guy, but it really appeared like I was. If he wasn’t tricking me, I had given him the wrong change… twice (I could just see the Yelp reviews). Soon after I gave him his free beer, the Blind Guy got up and had his friend/master lead him out the door. Had I been swindled? Who cares… it was only ten dollars. Plus, I didn’t get raped by a sex robot on Valentine’s Day. So all in all, it turned out to be a pretty decent night.
One of the most awkward moments of my life happened when we had an Anti-Valentine’s Day party at our bar. As you can imagine, most of the people that came in were sad, lonely alcoholics looking to drown their sorrows and “fuck the pain away” (Yes, I just quoted a Peaches song… check out Miss Piggy’s rendition). It being Hollywood, there were plenty of the aforementioned miscreants getting wasted in our establishment, so the other bartenders and I were having some good laughs.
That all stopped when some genius decided to bring the Blind Guy to the bar. Really? On Valentine’s Day you want to bring your blind friend to a bar? Blind Guy’s friend must have been some sort of sadistic asshole. Not only could Blind Guy not enjoy all the breasts that were on display, but he would only be able to experience the night by smelling the strange mixture of perfume, alcohol, and urine that permeates all bars on busy evenings, and by listening to the fat girl beside him take a five second break from crying and devouring her bacon cheeseburger to tell her friend, “I just don’t know what else I could have done to make him happy”. Um, might I suggest eating three baco-cheeseburgers a day instead of five? Just a thought.
I tried to act like I didn’t see the blind guy, so one of the other bartenders would have to shoulder the awkward obligation of serving him, but his buddy came right to me and ordered two Coronas. Shit. I had never served a blind dude before, but I figured I would just do I what I did when I served midgets or people with googly eyes- I would look in their general direction but never directly at them (this method also works for Trannies, guys with eye patches, people that stink or dudes with hooks for hands… so basically pirates… I guess. What? Whatever- just keep reading).
So, I had to serve them. Luckily, Blind Guy’s friend handled the entire transaction, and I was able to pretend that Blind Guy wasn’t even there. Sweet. I gave his buddy the beers and his change, and then they disappeared into the crowd. Now I could focus on my job: helping depressed people slowly kill themselves by enabling their alcohol addiction… man, bartending is fun!
Fifteen minutes later, I was busy serving some rapist in a cape a Strawberry Daiquiri, when Blind Guy’s friend sat Blind Guy down right in front of my well. What the fuck? Were they targeting me? Did I execute the “Pirate Technique” too perfectly last time? Did they now think I had received sensitivity training that allowed me to handle situations involving handicapped guests with poise and grace? Well, I never had that training, and I was pretty sure that this wasn’t going to end well.
Since avoiding them was impossible at this point, I focused on the empty space between them, smiled and asked what I could get for them. Quite unexpectedly, Blind Guy politely ordered two Coronas. He then tried to hand me a crisp twenty-dollar bill, but he had it pointed about three feet to my left. His eyes were “looking” two feet to my right, and he was smiling. Was he really blind, or was he using the Pirate Technique on me?
Just as I moved to grab the money, he pointed his eyes and hand directly at me. Aaaaaaaaaahhhh! How the fuck did he do that? I began thinking that not only was he not blind, but maybe he wasn’t human at all… perhaps he was one of those new sex robots that the Japanese were developing and the guy with him was his owner/sex master. I mean, wouldn’t pretending “it” was blind be the perfect way to disguise its jerky motions and the need to lead it around? Fuck. Valentine’s Day had just gotten weird.
TO BE CONTINUED…
"Goodbye, my Loooovvve...". SMASH. Limo hits car. Airbag deploys. If you know what movie that's from, I welcome you.
