Tag Archives: television

Mayra Leal hiding behind a pillar with a gun

Mayra Leal Watch 2011: El Gallo & Solus

She keeps her built-in cellphone charger under her skirt this time, but Machete‘s unheralded MVP is back to deliver all the drug-addicted prostitution action you can handle. (If you’re me, that’s a lot. FYI.)

I figured it was time to check in on my favorite nude assassin/murderous home-wrecker, and I’ve discovered that the delightful Mayra Leal is in a new miniseries entitled El Gallo. If my Spanish is holding up, I believe “El Gallo” either refers to a large cat or a beloved purveyor of fine boxed wines.

(Please note that my Spanish teacher was one S. Gonzales, the fastest stereotype in all Meh-hee-coh.)

If there were ever any question about me watching this thing, it was answered when the trailer informed me that I could expect ACTION, COMEDY, VIOLENCE, FANTASY, ROMANCE, and LUST. I mean, those are like the six essential food groups of being awesome! The only way they could possibly improve on the formula would be with a monkey in a track suit and a space ninja. Bonus points were deducted for featuring a character named Charro who doesn’t have giant ’70s Love Boat boobs, but I will beneficently restore said points as a reward for that guy Pepe, whose insanely evil grin looks like a latino Joker taking a covert shit in the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

Next I found the trailer for her upcoming movie, Solus, which I think is a kind of mash-up of City of Angels, Requiem For A Dream, and something that would co-star Shannon Tweed if this were 1993. It’s also educational, since I had no idea that hookers strung out on heroin look anything like Mayra… clearly ladies, it’s time to skip the GTL and start chasing that dragon! Yes, there may be the occasional back alley panty-ripping, and you may get spit on by some guy with a goatee, but a handsome man (who I strongly suspect is an angel in the service of an angry God) will take  your scantily-clad silhouette in his arms and carry you off somewhere less rapey.

I concede it’s a rather roundabout approach to love and personal fulfillment, but at least you’ll be skinny! And isn’t that what really counts?

In other Mayra-centric news: a fight scene in another of her new flicks has her training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a deadly martial art accidentally developed by 14th century Incas after exposure to a time-traveling Chuck Norris during one of Bill & Ted’s Decidedly Less Excellent Adventures. (Machu Picchu? That thing was totally a strip mall before Keanu Reeves burned down The Gap.)

So if you were thinking about pissing her off, I’d suggest you give the Deadly Hands of Leal Fu a pass and go hassle one of the Teen Moms. Those bitches can’t fight for shit.


Miss Arkansas: A Disturbing, Slightly Arousing Closer Look

Alyse Eady: baby girl is so ripped, you'd think she's from Whitechapel.

As an Arkansan myself, it was interesting to discover both that Alyse Eady –Miss Arkansas– was first runner-up in Miss America 2011 the other night, and that she is crazy-hot. Emphasis on “crazy”, based upon the talent portion of the competition:

But wait… what makes this truly great isn’t that she thought it was a good idea to wager what amounts to her life’s work on fucking puppets. Nope. What takes her performance over the top and into the realm of the ineffably awesome is that she does it… a lot. Like, constantly. From what I can tell, whether you’re handing out bedazzled crowns or just need someone to show up for the grand opening of a fucking grocery store, this crazy bitch is gonna be there, both fists firmly ensconced in the felt-covered assholes of the Cookie Monster’s hillbilly cousins, ready to whip out a signature dance routine that combines the soul-numbing tedium of tap with the full-on retard charms of line-dancing.

I am in awe. I mean, holy shit. It’s as if she’s a sexy emissary from the far-flung future, sent back in time to show us what it will be like when humans evolve beyond shame. In an interview, she said this about taking up ventriloquism:

When I was 9 years old I saw a ventriloquist perform and just fell in love with it!  I checked out books from the public library to learn more about it.  My mom even purchased a book about Vonda Van Dyke, Miss America 1965, who was the first ventriloquist to appear on the Miss America stage.

So we’re clear, that’s like Chris Farley falling in love with SNL as a kid, reading everything he could about John Belushi, and then intentionally growing up to kill himself with Twinkies and cocaine, just like his hero. Dream big, kids!

Oh, and as a side-note, for those with an interest in off-season television shows where people spend three months every summer sleeping and comparing farts for your amusement, please note Alyse competed against (and defeated) Big Brother 12‘s Britney Haynes in the Miss Teen Arkansas pageant a few years back. Given how hot and funny Britney was –and how truly awful ventriloquism is– I can only assume Britney lost because her talent was setting crippled Lithuanian children on fire or something. There’s really no other explanation.

Yes, sadly, this is the sluttiest photo I could find of Britney Haynes.

Well, except this one.

...and maybe this one.

The Link Parts Are… Wired! (featuring An Insane Dude On A Bike)

Sometimes, I look at someone achieving something like this and think, "I don't take enough chances in life." And then I think, "Yeah, but at least I've never had to dig cargo shorts out of my colon." Life is such a delicate balance, y'know?

The Walking Dead: Fan-Made Credit Sequences Rule

Based on the trailers and clips we’ve seen so far, there’s every reason to believe that AMC’s TV adaptation of Robert Kirkman’s The Walking Dead will be awesome. Frank Darabont (director of The Shawshank Redemption) and Gale Ann Hurd (writer of The Terminator) have the perfect pedigrees to run a show about a group of survivors wandering the American countryside after the inevitable Zombie Apocalypse, and the nature of the story is perfect for a long-form series. But there’s no way the show’s actual credit sequence will be as awesome as the one above, cobbled together by fan Daniel Kanemoto from bits and pieces of Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard’s art.

Honestly, the only thing stopping Kanemoto’s animation from stealing the “best intro sequence on television” crown away from True Blood is the lack of baptisms and tits, and I’m willing to compromise on the baptisms. Step up your game, Daniel!

The Walking Dead premieres on AMC October 31st, Halloween Night.

via: I Watch Stuff

Check It Out

The Walking Dead: Compendium One
The source material for the TV series, and amazing in its own right. Every time you think a situation can’t get any more fucked up, that human beings cannot sink any deeper, and that, oh hell no, that character can’t die… it happens. Robert Kirkman tortures his creations, not with glee, but with grim resolve. It leaves you asking yourself, “What would I do?”

Unless you’re me, since my answer to that question –zombies or no zombies– is always the same: “Kick ass and start a harem.”

The Link Parts Are… Cheesy! (featuring Alison Brie)

Mad Men continues to be a critical darling, and my beloved Community is back this week for season two. But the big news in Alison Brie Land? According to her Twitter, she ate a salt & vinegar cricket and picked up some limited edition designer condoms during Fashion Week in NYC. Meanwhile, my week's high point was figuring out that if I fart loud enough, the dog pisses himself and runs into the wall. It's like we're living two halves of the same life.

  • Garbled Audio on FOX NewsDBSTalk – Dish Network Forum
    “My audio on FOX News channel has been garbled for around 20-30 minutes.” Dude, that’s how it’s supposed to sound.
  • RipCord Music Player Could be a Lifesaver148Apps
    A very cool iPhone app designed to help locate female joggers who have been attacked. Or elderly power-walkers who are having a heart attack. Or your ten year-old nephew who wants to scare the living shit out of the entire family (In the latter case, I suggest installing iBeatThatKidsAss Pro.)
  • C.H.I.M.P. Rearview Monitor Mirror Eliminates Office SurprisesLifehacker
    Never again worry that your wife/mother/pastor/guard is going to walk in and catch you “assaulting the summit” to online tranny porn.
  • Katy Perry won the VMAsWWTDD?
    Who knew Katy was racist against moon men?
  • Wife Kills Husband over PornLuke Is Back
    I hope he was beating off to some kind of all-girl lesbian action, ’cause given what she has to look forward to in prison, that would be awesomely ironic.
  • Words Of Wisdom of the DayThe Daily What
    I don’t really know who is more deserving of being herded on to a rocket and launched into the sun, Bieber fans or Twilight fans. Y’know what? Let’s just build a bigger rocket.

The Link Parts Are… Vacuum Sealed! (featuring Alyssa Pallett)

Heather Morris (Brittany) Naked, “Glee” Now 5% Less Gay!

Glee is… well, it… it just blows, man.

Not because it’s incredibly, overwhelmingly gay, mind you. A television show has the right to be as flamboyant as it likes, and I fully support its opportunity to marry other rainbow-powered, unicorn-riding primetime comedy/dramas… or even adopt a little spin-off someday. I’m no (ordinary) bigot! Why, some of my favorite programs have been ridiculous, wrist-drooping, homo-tastic cheese-fests! And not just the obvious ones, like Walker, Texas Ranger.

But there is such a thing as good taste, and I have it. (I’ve been told my balls have a playful flavor; robust, with a hint of taint.) As such, I am utterly opposed to Glee‘s sub-Grease 2 brand of high school musicality. If The Breakfast Club got Xanadu drunk one night and they accidentally made a baby, it would be a mongoloid atrocity on roller skates… and it would still be better than Glee.

So it was with no small delight that I came across (make of that what you will) a couple nudes featuring the be-nippled form of one of Glee‘s lithe and fetchingly stupid cheerleaders, Heather Morris. Yes, Heather Morris, she who embodies the character Brittany and gives voice to the only funny lines on the show not uttered by Jane Lynch.

Lynch, by the way, is living proof that short-haired lesbians can be awesome and hilarious. (The counter-argument being, of course, Ellen Degeneres.) Power to my close-cropped sistahs!

Naked hairography is the best kind.

Sadly, the photographer did not book Heather to play a solo at Vagstock, so there’s only so much she can improve her show’s situation. But every little bit helps, and her work here at least suggests the possibility of a Glee where the ball-shriveling sincerity and covers of 30 year-old Madonna tunes (that sucked even before their bloated pop-cultural corpses were aurally fucked by Cory Monteith’s pasty vocal stylings) are at least supplemented by an occasional burst of teh sexxy.

Yes, Naked Brittany. That's a wall.

Ideal situation? Brittany and Santana break out the scissors and somehow manage to make the whole thing more and less gay, simultaneously. That, my friends, would be epic. Still bad… but epic.



(hat tip: Egotastic)

Commercials That Eat Your Soul: Education Connection

Into every generation, a handful of hypnotically irritating advertising spots are born. They burrow their way into your brain like an indigenous lifeform on Ceti Alpha 5, and suck away your will to live while simultaneously programming you to walk around singing their fucking jingles all day. It’s the marketing version of a phenomenon best explained by a chick with big boobs and cat ears:

As a kid, the one that infected me most severely –and led directly to my vast array of gender issues– was this ad for some shitty perfume, one designed specifically to torture co-workers throughout a long, musky day:

Quick thoughts:

  1. “The eight hour perfume for the 24 hour woman”? So best case scenario, what happens the other 16 hours of the day? Does she smell great while at the office, only to come home reeking like a mix of three day old Chinese food and hobo farts?
  2. Did we not have technology like “showers” and “soap” in 1980? Is this why women of that era were constantly worried about “that not-so-fresh feeling”? Are you telling me we could put a man on the moon but we couldn’t hose our chicks down occasionally?
  3. Bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan sounds like an excellent idea. Leaving the bacon at the store, or feeding it to me unfried with a side of intestinal worms? Not so much.
  4. Is it wrong that I know the bacon-bringer-homer in question is 60 by now, and I still want to hit it?

But back to the subject at hand…

The modern version of this sorta thing comes from Education Connection, a company which initially made its commercial mark by reminding uneducated drop-out males that uneducated drop-out females can work on their degrees in their pajamas. But it was only when they unleashed this marketing Kraken upon the world that they truly became a force with which one might reckon.

For the longest time, I thought I was alone in suffering under the totalitarian rule of this mind-conquering Mussolini of a song. As it turns out, I wasn’t. Many pathetic losers innocent victims have been caught up in the madness, via an obscene contest sponsored by the site itself. The result? Well, just look:

That’s right: a home-made spot encouraging douches to get an education! Can you imagine what would happen to this country if our overwhelming stockpile of douchery was to attain sentience? It would be like SkyNet, only with liquid Terminators made out of hair gel and Jägermeister.

Almost as disturbing is this all-jailbait all-stars iteration, featuring out-of-sync, tone-deaf audio married to a strangely ambitious attempt at a single-take Steadicam shot. It’s like Scorsese’s Copacabana scene from Goodfellas, if Marty were somehow transformed into a field-hockey team full of giggly sixteen year-old girls. (An image which is –let’s face it– incredibly sexy. Mmmmm… eyebrows!)

This next one just blows my mind:

Dude, if you expended half as much effort on school as you do making cut-out puppets and smoking the reefer, you’d be out of your mom’s basement and into a supermodel’s panties by now! I mean, bonus points for creativity and all, but seriously, shampoo the smell of bong water out of your scruffy beard, rinse out your collection of crusty jerk socks, and move on.

Of course, this collection wouldn’t be complete without the kitschy gay auteur version:

…or the sassy gay auteur variation:

But I’ve saved the true horror for last. It’s like watching some sort of dark offering to the thousand-horned hellgod on his nightmarish video altar. Every second of viewing leaves me feeling as if icy shards of demon spittle are tearing at the stitches of my fragile sanity.

Or put another way… I’m not saying this guy is a creepy, homeless, pedophile cannibal or anything, but, y’know, I wouldn’t leave your tastier looking kids around him.

Audrina Partridge Not Ruling Out Nude Scenes (NSFW)

In a move akin to birds not ruling out flying or hobos not ruling out public urination, Audrina made the world a little warmer and fuzzier with her recent statement. What she said:

If I was passionate about the script and the scene was there in order to make the character believable then I would do it. If it was just a flash of booty here and a bit of boob there then fine, but anything too intense and I probably wouldn’t do it.

What she meant:

I’ve already stretched my fifteen minutes in ways which make it clear that my boobs’ gravity can distort the curvature of space-time, so I need to step up my game. I’m tired of appearing in shitty movies that no one wants to see in a theater, and am looking for a chance to make a shitty movie that people will want to see with their pants off. Please, Hollywood producers… if you thought for even a moment that I was too modest to give you The Full Audrey, think again!

I mean,  ”…make the character believable?” Audrina, I would pay good money just to get a glimpse of your vag through a hole drilled in the wall of your hotel room (and I have; drill bits aren’t cheap), but you could be oiled up and riding me like one of those mechanical ponies outside the supermarket and I still wouldn’t find you believable. I don’t buy you as Audrina Partridge, let alone Scarlett O’Hara. The only role to which you’re ideally suited is that of a spray-tanned Old Navy supermodelquin.


And hell, it’s not as if you haven’t gotten naked for us before.

With that said, I don’t think we should let my lack of respect for your career nor your lack of awareness of my existence keep us apart. Come to me. I’ve got a bottle of baby oil and a stack of quarters… meet me outside the Publix at 2:30 and we’ll get this thing done.

Scott Brown’s Proposed Health Plan Intrigues Me

Scott Brown shows off his Public Option in Cosmopolitan magazine, 1982. Sweet hairy Jesus...! By my calculations, after twenty-eight years of growth, dude must be packing a rain-forest in his jock.

Scott “The 41st Sexy Vote Against Health Care Reform” Brown won Teddy “Never Met A Liver He Couldn’t Destroy” Kennedy’s old Senate seat a couple days ago. Democrats everywhere are groaning because they now have to actually negotiate to get things done, and Republicans are rejoicing because Caribou Barbie suddenly has a matching Ken to go with the 2012 White House Playset.

Personally, as a leading member of the underground shadow government that really runs the U.S. of A.,[1] I don’t usually care who wins these quaint little “elections” that get you people all worked up. But I do care about Mr. Brown’s offer to improve my physical and mental health while still opposing Obamacare.

Studies have shown that sex improves a man’s cardiovascular health, prolongs life, elevates mood, and forces him to air out his bedroom once in a while. Senator-Elect Brown knows this, and thus has offered all of us the sweet asses of his daughters as a substitute for insurance reform.

I think I speak for all of us when I say that an erection in every Underoo is really change I can believe in. (Today is Iron Man, if you must know.)

Pimp Daddy shows off the goods. (Dibs on the smaller one with the bewbs!)

If the giantess on the left looks familiar, that’s ’cause she’s Ayla Brown, who came in 13th in the fifth season of American Idol. Meaning that, yes, there’s an excellent chance that her skin and Simon Cowell’s semen have been in close proximity. Of course, anyone who’s ever been kissed on the cheek by Ryan Seacrest has probably been touched by Cowell’s seed, so that’s not entirely her fault.

Here's Ayla again, nicknamed "Daddy's Little Pitbull" by the press. Countdown 'til she squeezes out some embarrassing puppies... starting... NOW!

[1] You ever noticed how everywhere you go, there are always workmen tearing up the roads and rebuilding overpasses, and yet the streets still seem to stay pothole-ridden and clogged with traffic? That was me, fuckin’ witcha.