April 07, 2005

Look At The Cute Praying Kitty

Possibly correct. Possibly not.

A little bit of an open thread until I can get my shit together. Possible topics? Jeez, that's rather limiting, isn't it? How about "things I would like to see on this site but know that I won't because our host doesn't take fucking requests like nickel jukebox" or "I've got some interview questions for the host that I know he won't answer... or will he? No, the chances are slim to none, and slim just left town."? I won't say anything further, or you'll just take that topic and run with it. I said open, and I mean it. No talk of your favorite Herman's Hermit. Aw shit.

The rest of you chuckleheads can check out these selected Something Awful parodies of the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series of books (be sure to check out the variations on the 'You're the hero of this story! Choose from (x) possible endings!" subtitle):

-- If this is wrong, then... well, let's not fool ourselves. There's no "if" about it.
-- It was only a matter of time before Yakov Smirnoff put one of these out, but it's good to see that he got the title designer from Enemy at the Gates.
-- I'm not exactly why this particular volume included a diatribe about racial stereotypes, when there's a fucking werewolf on the space station.
-- Poor little cracker. Oh man, white kids dying all over the place.
-- It isn't too soon to start getting nostalgic about videos from washed-up rap bands that themselves were nostalgic homages to 70s cop shows, right?
-- Finally, a CYOA book that speaks to the bewilderingly hard life choices I face every day.
-- Mmmmm... high concept.




Posted by Norbizness at April 7, 2005 12:14 AM
Comments

I have long, dark blond hair to my waist, very pale white skin, blue eyes, five foot three inches tall.
I mentioned before I would do anything to see Herman. And I'll say that again!

You know, I hadn't thought about 60's fan magazines in a long time, and I certainly never thought of them as dating services for pedophiliac band managers. I'd like to hold my brain under a faucet and wash away the filthy pictures you put there today. But, boy, if I had nickel for every time I said that...

Posted by: roy edroso at April 7, 2005 08:53 AM

That huge Mexican head will eat us all!!!

Posted by: drew at April 7, 2005 10:35 AM

Heeeeey . . . while I agree with you on preemptive (and postmodernistic nostalgia-of-nostalgia) nostalgia, I have to say I don't think that the Beasties quite qualify as "washed up" yet.

I enjoyed "To The 5 Burroughs" and I'm not afraid to admit it.

Posted by: Vestal Vespa at April 7, 2005 10:54 AM

Off the top o' me head that particular Hermit was Derek.

The thing I do remember about them was on the Sullivan show the Hermits sang backup in three different keys. Sort of a proto-Dead.

Posted by: doghouse riley at April 7, 2005 11:09 AM

Looks like The Ultimate Warrior went nuts in a speech at UCONN.

Posted by: S8N at April 7, 2005 12:26 PM

Is that the guy from Southern Bitch?

Posted by: patrick at April 7, 2005 05:09 PM

Polar bears love them vanilla waifers.

Posted by: vachon at April 7, 2005 07:30 PM

OK, Norbizness, now you go too far.

Pickin' on Derek Leckenby is outa' line.

YOU try playing the guitar solo to

"Henry The 8th" while wearing a

189 lbs pair of specs!

Posted by: nikto at April 9, 2005 02:09 PM