The Burly Unknown!

Scan through the first video, then watch the remix. Instructions y’all.

Original:

Remix:

Original:

Remix:

Remixes done by The Gregory Brothers.  Check out their site.

No male version of this.  Maybe if I just wear Big Johnson t-shirts and drive a mustang…

… give it a ponder.  James Lipton says so.

I sure could have used James Lipton’s beard during my formative years…

It’s not going to be entirely dramatic, because we laughed there.

It is.  And it is good.

This has been bothering me. Sitting on chair lifts gives you quite a bit of time to think about the Great Questions. My ponderings tend to slant towards the inane. Most are charitably lost in the ether, but this one has somehow stuck with me. So now I shall inflict it upon you, oh horrorshow readers.

Why Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” bothers me

1.  Ariel’s bone structure

A mermaid would not have the bone structure to survive in the full gravity environment of dry land.
She wouldn’t. Have you ever seen a beached whale? Yeah, they breath air, but you know what they do when they’re beached? They suffocate. A wheezing Ariel is neither cute nor kid-friendly.

2. Ursula
What is she? Some sort of mutant mermaid? At first glance, she appears to be octopus/human much like a mermaid is a fish/human. However, an Octopus has eight legs, and she clearly has six. This leads me to the conclusion that she is not an octopus/human hybrid, but a mutant human that can breath underwater and has six tentacles. This begs the question: how does she reproduce?  I would surmise that mermaids reproduce in the normal fish fashion given their fish/human setup. Given that Ursula is not a true octopus/human, I can only conclude the following:  Ursula has six vaginas. The traditional human setup is that genitalia are nestled between the legs.  It only follows that Ursula would have her genitalia in between each leg.  Do the math.  I have made a diagram to illustrate my confusion (and fascination?)

This is science.

I can only surmise that any biologically compatible suitor male would be diametrically equipped. While it would be neat to be your own sausage party, such a setup would leave you very vulnerable to attack. In the course of survival of the fittest, such a species would be culled in a very short time. The fact that there is only one such specimen in evidence in the entire movie only supports this hypothesis.

3. The excited Bishop.

This bishop clearly has a boner. I’ve given you a before and after picture to prove that this isn’t a mere wardrobe malfunction.

Before you get all higgledy piggledy on me, I’m well aware that this is one of Disney’s well-documented sexual gaffes. I just feel that I would be remiss if I left it out.

4.  Ariel is dumb.

She is.  In the song “Part of your World,” Ariel doesn’t know the words feet, street, and burn.  This is like saying a land-dweller wouldn’t know the words fins, water, and underwater exothermic burning.

Ridiculous.

5.  This castle is made of penises.

Again, another Disney sexual snafu.

There you have it.  Five reasons that Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” bothers me.

You may think that this blog post is of very limited value and I may agree with you.  Let’s just say I did it so I could tag this post with “boner”, “the little mermaid”, “vagina”, and “penis castle” and be done with it.

…but strangely enthralling.  Hilarious either way.

This is what I would imagine meth is like.

The Oklahoma News as Seen Through the Eyes of a PCP Addict from Derek Doublin on Vimeo.

Hello friends.  It’s been a long time.  Dry your eyes, uncle Davey is back.  I’ve been actually working.  I know.  The world is crumbling around your goofy ears that are slightly too large for your head.

Do you remember Mawndays?  I sure do, mostly because the next days were always Tuesdays, and I was having breakfast with Morrie…

Well, if you’re reading this, it means you are indeed a faithful reader.  I took a brief hiatus in order to attempt to get my life together in a more tangible fashion (and not just on teh internets).  I’m currently on my “off-season”, which means I get a month of vacation.  I spend part of my time in Atlanta, taking care of some business and making the ladies swoon.  I had forgotten how ghetto parts of Atlanta are.  Based on my observations (and rigorous economic modeling), I have deduced the spending habits of your average Atlantan.

This serves as a Mawnday task for you friends.  Go out and find something hilarious on the internet and send it to me.  Do it.

Hello readers.  I have some news.  Many of you will not like it.  Several of you will probably just stop whatever you’re doing, walk out the door, and never return, somnambulant in your purposelessness.

There are several things you take for granted in this life:  the earth is round, the sky is blue, bears on motorcycles are funny and sad.  I’m afraid I’ve taken one of these certainties from you. 

David no longer has a beard.

…

Take a moment to breath.

Now that you’ve calmed down some (those of you who haven’t wandered off in a spate of bleakness), I’m here to inform you of several things:

My chin is effing awesome.  Or should I say, “chins.”  The only thing better than having a majestically sculpted and splendidly masculine chin is having a multitude of them.  All of this time, beneath the concealing cloak of luxurious facial hair, my chin has been breeding.  Now there is an entire family of chins adorning the southern hemisphere of my terrible dome.  I can only suspect that my chins have been plotting an entire takeover of my person, thus resulting in a body where chins can come and go as they please, never to be terrorized again by pimple-popping fingers or snot-flinging noses.

While I admire their grim purpose and courage, the chin rebellion has been brutally repressed. 

Another new development is that I look to be around 14.  I rarely carry identification with me in Telluride, and so far this week, I’ve been turned away from two bars and a liquor store.*

The clerk at the liquor store even went so far as to make fun of me.  Awesome.  Look who’s laughing when I’m 58 and look 55 AHAHHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA (sob).

Third development: I am very aerodynamic.  Almost too much so.  My face actually tends to pull my body along now by virtue of it’s own sleekness, whether or not I want to go anywhere.  I can actually levitate by merely turning my face upward. 

Fourth:  My facial hair grows incredibly slow.  Dammit.  It may have been the slash and burn technique I used to put down the chin rebellion. 

* After leaving the liquor store, one of the customers who witnessed my cash register humiliation tried to console me by telling me how he used to get turned down trying to buy liquor underage.  Needless to say, he did not survive the encounter.

Oh.  My.  GOD!  Shoot it in the head!  Kill it with fire!