Found On the Internet: Etheria Q

Youtuber RafiSG put together this little stop-motion mesh of Masters of the Universe/Princess of Power characters and Avenue Q, the musical play that takes a different look at Millenials and Sesame Street.  The figures are from Mattel’s Masters of the Universe Classics line, and it’s just more proof of how incredibly awesome the line is.

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A Muppet Family Christmas (1987/89)

I will be the first to admit that when it comes to almost all Christmas media, you might as well call me Scroogey McGrincherson.  I loathe almost all of it.  I can think of maybe 5 Christmas songs that don’t make me want to shove an electric drill into my ear, just to stop the screaming.  Quality “Christmas Specials” are fewer and farther between.  I can tolerate some of the old stop-motion specials.  Mickey’s Christmas Carol is decent enough.  I’ve been known to enjoy the movie “A Christmas Story”, and I’ll acknowledge the existence of some absolutely amazing Christmas episodes of NBC’s Community.  Jim Henson’s The Christmas Toy is also fantastic.  But there is one golden egg, one diamond in the rough, one sparkling jewel of Christmas joy amongst the media-stocking that is otherwise full of Christmas Coal.  That piece of greatness is “A Muppet Family Christmas”.

muppetfamilychristmas

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Virtual Worlds

So, I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve been avoiding blogging, so much as I’ve been finding other things much more enticing.  After wrapping up Fight Night Round 3 (My Review:  It sucks) in a weekend shortly after my last post, I decided to take a jump into the virtual world of Fallout 3.

I’ve been treading my way across post-nuclear-apocalypse Washington, D.C. for a few weeks now, and it’s fucking amazing.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do a full out review of it, because I don’t like to review things if I don’t feel I’ve experienced them fully.  And I don’t know that I’ll ever experience Fallout 3 fully.  It’s that sweeping and massive of a timesink that I can’t see me finishing it before March 6th’s release of Mass Effect 3 which will likely the three quarters of 2012 that will be left after it launches.

I’ve also been invited to join a thing in a galaxy far, far away that I’m not supposed to talk about, so I’m not going to, except to say that it’s fucking awesome, even though I’m not supposed to talk about it.

I guess this is an apology of sorts, if you had been enjoying the somewhat regular posts I had been making.  I didn’t die, or get arrested, or run off stalking the douche who hacked Sesame Street.  Though his changing my routine may very well have lead to me blogging less.  But I had already gone a bit quiet before that, I suppose.  I’m going to try to set myself on a schedule of sorts, but I’m terrible at holding to schedules.

In the meantime, Dogmeat and I need to continue looking for my father.

Fat Dad With Glasses: Sesame Street Hacked

Greetings, Friends.

I suppose you probably thought there’d be some kind of post related to AMC’s The Walking Dead which premieres its second season tonight.  Well, guess what?  I’m too upset to post about that tonight.  I’m too upset because some idiot douchefuck has ruined my night.  Someone thought it would be funny to hack into Sesame Street‘s YouTube account and post a few porn videos.

Telly… How could you?

Obviously, this being the age of instant transmission of information and whatnot… this isn’t something that lasted very long.  The porn was up and down a few times over the course of the 22 minutes.  That’s how long before someone outright suspended the entire Sesame Street account.  From that point, until the nasty business was sorted out about an hour later, none of Sesame Street’s videos could be watched on YouTube.

Here’s a personal message to whoever it was that took the time to do this:

Dear Asshat,

I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but I know that you’re busy fapping away at the idea that a bunch of parents and little kids are crying at your 1337 hackjob.  I know you suddenly think you’re Tyler Durden meets Zero Cool.  You know what you are?  An unoriginal idiot.  Anyone could think of porn.  At 15, working at a local video store, I swapped the inputs with the outputs of the security monitor and popped Anal Assassins in the VCR on the guy that worked the shift after me.  It was unoriginal then, almost 20 years ago.  It’s unoriginal now.  You’re a dumbfuck.  You could have slowly played with the account for months before anyone caught on, I’d bet.  Instead you blow your whole load on a couple of lame ass-to-mouth vids?  Enjoy your 15 minutes.  No one will ever think or care about you again.


Sincerely,
Me.

But this incident was particularly frustrating for me, because part of my nightly routine to wind down Charlotte is to watch several of these videos with her on my lap, and me browsing blogs, reddit and other ridiculous temporal black holes.  I wasn’t able to really do that, since half of the videos we watch every night were down.

Now, I don’t know about any of your kids out there in internetland… by mine isn’t fussy about sleep.  She doesn’t care for it in the least.  In the last 18 months, she might have slept for 15 minutes or so.  I can’t be sure.  I’m too fucking tired.  In addition to watching YouTube videos with her, I need to jump through flaming hoops, sing songs, dance, ride a BigWheel bike around the living room, and throw spaghetti noodles on the ceiling just to get her to yawn.  And when you take any of these crucial items out of the equation… she doesn’t sleep.

So obviously, the fact that the whole routine got delayed by an hour has me pretty much enraged.  If I were to get a hold of whatever dicknuckle thought it would be fun and original to repeatedly post porn to Sesame Street’s YouTube channel, it wouldn’t be pretty.  If it were filmed, it would probably fill the void anyone is feeling about there not being a new Saw sequel this Hallowe’en.  It would make the second half of Hostel look like Cinderella.  It would damn sure violate YouTube’s Terms of Service Agreement.

I understand the blowtorch… but what are the christmas tree decorations fo– 
 Oh.

Fat Dad With Glasses: Influence

With great power comes great responsibility.

So now that my darling little rugrat is approaching a year and a half old, she’s getting smart. She’s also starting to show interest in things on TV. She’s noticing how we’ll play certain ways with certain toys. Because I’m slow, and not very bright, I’m just starting to realize how unimaginably quick she is to notice things, remember things and repeat things. This means it’s high time to start exposing her to awesomeness in all its forms.

She hasn’t got a chance.

Over the past few months, with a little help from Mom & Dad, she’s started to develop several different favourites. Her favourite animals at the moment are raccoons, horses, frogs and bunnies. She absolutely loves reading any books. She now loves the classic cast of Sesame Street (Pre-Elmo, that is. Elmo can go tickle himself, for all I care.) She also likes Yo Gabba Gabba.

But thanks to yours truly, she’s also in love with stuff that is fucking awesome. One of her favourite toys is a Hulk action figure. When she picks it up, she shouts “HULK! RRRAAAARRRGHHHHH!” Her favourite cartoons are ’67’s Spider-man and She-Ra: Princess of Power. She practically loses her shit when their theme songs start. I tried getting her to watch He-Man and the Masters of the Universe first, but she had nothing to do with it. Maybe once she’s more interested in She-Ra’s origins… Also, on that sheet up there, she likes to point out Yoda. Why? ‘Cause he’s Yoda. Duh. Kids fucking love Yoda.

And now she’s awake.

You’re not seriously posting this are you, Dad?

Machete License

I’m feeling particularly lazy today. A kind of Garfield lazy, I think. It’s Monday, and even though the day is already over, I still feel like I’m in a box, with the covers over my head, avoiding everything.

I guess that’s because I’m so fucking sick of Christmas, it’s ridiculous. I don’t get excited for it until, maybe, the 23rd. Before that all the rigmarole that everyone is going through just pisses me off to no end. Not so much when it’s those close to me, but when it’s these idiots on the streets or in the stores losing their minds over everything… I start to wish I carried around a machete.

I mean really… this time of year, there should really be a license you can get or something. The Machete license. Pass the machete test, and you get up to 10 machete swings, per week, with total impunity. I’d probably save mine up for any trip to the Dollar Store, but I’m sure I’d spend a few here and there throughout the week. Hack off some guy’s little finger because he’s talking on his cell phone while paying for groceries at the checkout. Take a big chunk out of the shoulder of some useless father who’s letting his 5 year old kid run up and down the aisles at breakneck speed. Get out of the car at a busy intersection and go after the first impatient son of a bitch that honks their horn…

Yeah, I need a machete. My folks were telling me a story today at lunch, and I think the person involved should count themselves damned lucky that the 10 Machete Swing License isn’t available, and that I wasn’t there with one.

If you haven’t seen them before, some local companies have taken to adding “Maternity Parking” spaces in their lots. They’re just next to the Handicap spots, and they’re courtesy of the company for pregnant women, or parents of newborn children.

So on this occasion, apparently all of the Handicap spaces were full, because as already mentioned, it’s almost Christmas. This old guy, handicap sticker and all goes to the store and can’t park in any of the blue spots, so he parked in the Maternity spot, since it was open, and next closest, and he probably would have fallen in half had he tried to walk from the back of the parking lot.

He comes out of the store with his wife, gets to his car–and this is about when my parents pull into the lot–and starts getting screeched at by a pregnant woman, here into referred to as “Nature’s Miracle”, for parking there with his handicap plates and handicap tag hanging in the window. “Don’t you realize those spots aren’t for you? Blah blah, Call the cops, blah blah, I’m pregnant, blah blah, etc.”

Dear Nature’s Miracle, here’s a news flash for you:

Doo Dee Doo Dee Do, Doo Dee Doo Dee Do.
Doo Dee Doo Dee Do, Doo Dee Doo Dee Do.
Those spaces? They’re a courtesy granted to you by the store. They’re completely unenforcable by law. If you had called the cops, they would have told you to calm down, and quit being a fucking nutbar. Would you have gone off half cocked if it had been a car with some 13 year old kid with a case of Cerebral Palsy so bad they could barely move? Yeah, he’s an old guy, and he could walk…. But how far? They got a handicap tag because at some point they could not, under their doctor’s recommendation, walk more than 50 feet unassited. Don’t like it? Call Dr. Hugginstuff and get him to fill in some forms for your temporary handicap parking permit.
Now, while I understand completely that being pregnant is an ordeal I will never, ever fully understand, it doesn’t change some simple facts. One of these facts is that many people are worse off than pregnant women. Many people are so close to falling apart that walking at all is a bad idea, even though they must because they have no other people in their lives to help them get by.
I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, Nature’s Miracle, but you could argue ’til your face is as blue as the tag in buddy’s window, but it will never, ever give you more of a right to park there than he does, I do, or anyone else. It’s a courtesy extended to you by the company that owns the store you’re shopping in. That’s it. If I want to be an asshole, and park there, the unpregnant man that I am, you can do sweet fuck all about it. At least, not until you get them to pass a law requiring Maternity spaces, protected by the law, in all public parking areas. You do that, and I’ll lobby for my machete license. I bet we’re both in for a helluva long wait.
Besides, it’s Christmas. Calm the fuck down. It could be buddy’s last Christmas. Hell, it could be your last Christmas. Especially if my bill passes first.