(posted by ben axelrad)
Coming at you a day late with my weekly LOST coverage ’cause T.J. hogged the site yesterday with his awesome interview. I’m glad you wrote an excellent post dude, but the rest of us need to use the internet too.
Anyhoo . . . LOST!
Of all the seeming impossibilities made prosaic on LOST, none seems more far-fetched to me than anyone following Hurley anywhere that didn’t have a snack bar or a water bong. Hurley found weed on that island, right? No one could stay that dumb, calm, and hungry without cannabinoids.
Speaking of drugs on the island, I bet after three years people are starting to get pissed all Charlie’s heroine burned up. I would’ve been pissed after three hours. This ain’t NA, bitch, we’re stranded on an inescapable island and you just torched our only artifice of escapism. If I was there this is how it would’ve gone down:
Charlie, did you find heroine?
Uhhhh…Nooooooo. This isn’t heroine.
Cut the crap, dude. That’s heroine.
Fine. But don’t tell anyone.
I’m telling EVERYONE. Hey everyone!
Charlie found heroine! Let’s all do heroine.
They don’t do heroine.
I don’t either. But this is the worst situation
ever and rumor has it that’s the best shit ever.
I think we’ll make an exception.
EVERYONE, COME QUICK!
Shhhh! You’re going to get me in trouble.
I’m a recovering addict.
Dude, no one cares about your stupid addiction.
One, we only met your junkie ass like a week ago.
And two, we just fucking plane-crashed on an
island they’re NEVER gonna find. You think
Hurley’s counting calories or Shannon’s working
on being less of a giant twat? No.
“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em,” brother.
But I had a real problem with the stuff.
Yeah, well you have a few real problems now too.
And most of them won’t get you high as shit.
Try catching a buzz off that homicidal billow of
anthropomorphic black smoke.
I guess you’re right. Let’s do some heroine.
After this we should try my addiction.
Oh yeah? What’s that?
Masturbating to tropical polar bears.
Don’t judge me, junkie.
This island is magical.
We all know the island cures everything except death, and apparently heroine addiction. So that means either heroine addiction is as bad as death or the island condones it. I mean, am I wrong? Probably.
Don’t do drugs, kids. Unless you’re stranded with me on an island. Or in a prison. Or at a somewhat long stop light.
My name is Ben and LOST is my drug of choice (as are drugs).
(posted by josh golden)
The game of Russian Roulette is a pretty well-known standard in extreme party games. You put one bullet in a revolver, spin the chamber, hold the gun to your head, and pull the trigger while praying that a metal slug doesn’t come sailing out.
This game, thankfully, has been adapted into an interactive online experience. Just replace the gun with a web cam and keep pulling the trigger until you get a face full of stranger and you have chatroulette.com, a site that asks you to ignore the one thing you were told over and over as a child: “Never talk to strangers.”
I tried to abstain. I tried to stay strong. But yesterday the white panel van of Chatroulette came rolling down my street with a grocery bag full of candy tied to the mirror and I, like an unaccompanied child, ran up to say hi.
I only had to try my hand once at this social game and I struck gold. The first person to come up on my screen was a beautiful twenty something girl who must have had some Persian in her. Stunning is the only word I could use to describe her.
She waved at me. I sheepishly waved back. She giggled. I chuckled. Three hours later she was still laying on her stomach on a purple satin bed hanging off my every word, and I hers. She only lives thirty minutes away and is coming over tomorrow for dinner.
I really think she may be the one. Who would think that in a game of chance like Chatroulette I would find such a wonderful woman. Of all the people in the world. What a crazy thing the internet can be.
Don’t believe me?!
That’s because it is an entirely false and preposterous story. If you want the truth all you have to do is replace the hot Persian girl with a deranged pervert’s genitals and you are pretty much back on track.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. And there is no better example of this then chatroulette.com; a site that was meant to bring everyone across the world together through random video chatting but is no more than another alley in the seedy underbelly of the Internet. It is a place for three types of people:
- Single dudes staring blankly at their screens repeatedly hitting skip when they see another man, while praying for that Persian girl.
- Creepy single dudes pleasuring themselves in front of single dudes repeatedly hitting skip.
- Pockets of underage girls who are interested in neither.
My advice is simple: Get comfy with grotesque male forms. If you can, Chatroulette in a group. And if you have any history of addiction, stay far away from this site.
My name is Josh. SKIP F9.
(posted by ben axelrad/julia prescott)
Just when you thought PorC could never land a lady we go ahead and get ourselves a top shelf one. Bio today, first post tomorrow. You know how we roll, Cousin!
julia prescott – blogger
I am perfectly okay with being the only woman on this blog.
I grew up in North Hollywood, where I once witnessed Flavor Flav buy crack around the corner from my childhood home. Even today the booming call of Public Enemy and the sight of small bags of white powder make me feel nostalgic.
I like to write about film and television and other things that intercept into the general media. I like to perform stand-up comedy when the jokes are too good to stay on my iPhone. I’m working toward my Bachelor’s Degree in Film Studies with a minor in Television from Chapman University. (You didn’t need to know that whole part, but dammit if I pay $100,000 + to get the title, I’m gonna use it).
I’m supposed to inform you of what to expect while reading this blog and I’m happy to report with the utmost certainty that most of what you read through here will most likely contain the following, but is in no way limited to: Novels, Comedy, Cult Movies, Robots, Zombies, Weiner Dogs, Yellow Volkswagen Beetles, Improv, Stand-up, Food Stands in the Middle of Nowhere, Bizarre Star Wars/Geek Memorabilia, Disneyland, Disneyland Ghost Stories, Apple Computers, Vintage Bicycles, Ira Glass/This American Life, Dave Eggers, The 1960’s, Vintage Dresses, Themed Bike Riding, The Big Lebowski, B-Movies/Mystery Science Theater 3000, Surf Rock, Christopher Walken, Don Knotts, Ed Wood, Ace of Cakes, Anthony Bourdain, the Travel Channel, the Food Network, British Comedic TV, The Coen Brothers, Kids in the Hall, Amelie.
As a writer, I love e-mail. It fuels me through an otherwise caffeine-fueled Food Network marathon-addled day. I check it as often as the average person wonders what time it is, possibly more. If you’ve got something to say, I’ll probably respond to you in record speed at firstname.lastname@example.org.