As many of you may know, this past Saturday was suppose to be the day of reckoning. However, the rapture (or raptors if you are in Toronto) came and went, with no harm being done...or did it? Think about what really has happened in the past week. The Miami Heat are heading to the NBA finals. Oprah is leaving television, and possibly American culture, for ever. And now...two of our nation's greatest icons pass away, each leaving us with gigantic holes in our heart.
If you've ever eaten a Slim Jim, or had one garnish your Bloody Mary, then you know how much Macho Man Randy Savage meant to society. You know how he dazzled crowds, brought the first super hot playboy bunny to the WWF, made the elbow drop one of my favorite moves to pull when jumping off the frame of my parents bed and crushing my little brother, and inspired Bill Simmons to become the first virgin millionaire journalist in history (see Simmons column on Macho Man at espn.com). But Macho Man wasn't the only societal game changer to pass from the pop culture world recently. That's right I am talking about Cali Swag District rapper M-Bone, who was shot and killed a week ago at the ripe age of 22. Now you may be saying the only group of pseudo-celebrities with more occasions of premature deaths than wrestlers are rappers, but you still can't deny the trend. I mean the man who sold America on saturated beef jerky and the rapper who made the "The Dougie" the coolest dance phenom since "The Berney" dying in the same week? This makes the Mother Theresa and Princess Diana death week seem like Spring Break in Panama City.
And it can't be a coincidence. During this entire "world is ending on Saturday so I am gonna tweet about it" period, my roommate informed me of something we failed to consider. Saturday wasn't necessarily the end of the world, but it was the beginning of the end. No Macho Man. No M-Bone. No Michael Scott. No Oprah. Foot-long Chicken breasts subs costing $5.50 instead of $5 even at many Chicago Subway locations. I could go on and on, the evidence of the apocalypse is everywhere. So sit tight America and wait for the anti-Christ to come and end everything. At least we will get the chance to see The Hangover 2 before it's all over. And hopefully God will have Hulk Hogan and that 4 year-old doing the Berney in that youtube video join Macho and M-Bone. After all...I think they've earned it.
I know I promised you all a look at The Hangover 2, but since Zach Galifianakis stood me up after inviting me to be his date at the premier...I am going to have to wait till Thursday to see it just like everybody else. So, since I know you all can't even dream of going a week without some insight into my mind--I've decided to share my class notes from Monday. These notes were taken during a English and language style lecture on a writer who may or may not be a dead, female, lesbian that lived in Texas during the Alamo (literally I have no idea if any of that is true). Lets take a look.
-It was perfectly fine for my grandfather to drive me to school, despite that fact that he pooped himself every 5 minutes and couldn't go 30 seconds without taking a giant pull from his oxygen tank...yet it's illegal for me to have 3.5 beers and drive 4 blocks to get some McDonald's on a Sunday night? Yeah...that makes a lot of sense.
-Was Doogie Howser (the character) gay (like the actor who played him), straight, or just sexually aroused by medicine? I mean he spent his entire adolescence in a hospital...so that's got to be a legitimate question.
-Does liking Beyonce's "Who Runs the Wold? Girls!" song make me a lesbian..or just a raging feminist?
-What offends you more Joakim Noah's gay slur...or his face?
-Is taking a 9 lbs. shit the male equivalent to birthing a gigantic baby?
-Listening to a British rapper has got to be a lot like listening to Lil' Wayne at a tea party with the Royal Family. At least once he passed around the syzzurrup and eventually had sex with Kate Middleton.
-What do I really want to learn in grad school? How to blow shit up with my mind. Let's start with my professor's head. I focus intensely, staring deep into his eyes.
-If they make a 4th Godfather movie, and have Paul Walker play Michael Corleone's son...movies as we know them would cease to exist.
-Forget about having sex. All I want to do is hold a girl's hand, take her to Home Depot to shop for flooring and then head to KFC where she can watch me eat a 10-piece bucket. That's true love...and the lyrics for Train's next hit song.
-I am all alone in the classroom and have access to wireless internet. This just gave me an idea for McCauley Culkin's next hit film...Home Alone 4: It's A Lot More Fun Now That I'm Finally Old Enough to Masturbate.
-Did all the performance enhancing drugs Lance Armstrong allegedly took help him grow his testicle back? Probably not...which means he was still at a 50% disadvantage.
-Why don't they show Will Smith's music videos on Nickelodeon?
-How old do you have to be before people just accept that you are going to pick your nose in public?
-It's not gay...when it's in a 3 way!! But what if it's a 4-way where Lady Gaga brings both the third weiner and the only vagina to the party? Bet you didn't think about that Andy Samberg (see youtube video below).
-Did the Japanese confuse Russell Brand for Gilbert Gottfried when they kicked him out of the country? I bet all famous people look the same to them.
-Is the love child Arnold Schwarzenegger supposedly had with his mistress really the baby he gave birth to in Twins? And if so...where the hell is Danny DeVito's?
-Who's more famous, the pitbulls Michael Vick fought...or Pitbull the rapper?
-Sadly wrestlers die too soon. Happily Shawn Michaels doesn't count. HBK will live forever...SWEET CHIN MUSIC!!!!
And that's it. Sick.
Text Update and Big Ups
My text messaging score is currently sitting at a +449 (332-inbox, 262-sent, 57 from females) which represents the demographics of a guy who only wants to have a female watch him devour a semi-live chicken at the local KFC. However, with a 168 followers my twitter account is blowing up faster than the rise and fall of M-Bone himself. Also I would like to introduce a new segment to the text update, which is the ridiculous text of the week. This week's winner was something I sent at 12:49 AM last night...and it should tell you everything you need to know about how hard I party on Wednesdays. I randomly texted "No offense...just gotta piss" to someone I hadn't spoken to all day with absolutely no context. Hopefully I was actually pissing at the time.
I don't have a whole lot of big ups to extend in this crappy post, but I will say way to go to Joey Schlafly and the fellas for helping me have a little Sunday Funday this past weekend and to Zakk Tapp for sending hilariously, borderline racist, Irish inspired texts to me. They really brighten up my morning.
Back next week, I promise with a look at The Hangover 2.
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"