i hope the syphilis eating away at fred phelps’ brain doesn’t kill him too soon, because he’s a goldmine of unintentional comedy

The world’s best IRL trolls strike again: Westboro Baptist Church to picket George Carlin’s funeral. Or at least they’re threating to; but if Carlin’s funeral is going to be held any significant distance away from Kansas, they might back out. Much like they threatened to picket Heath Ledger’s funeral, then realized that after getting sued for $11 million dollars they couldn’t scrounge up bus fare to Wichita, never mind plane tickets to Australia.

I’m not sure which part of this press release is more hilarious:

  • the repeated reference to Carlin as a “potty-mouth”–what are you guys, 3 years old?,
  • the accusation that Carlin was both an agnostic and an atheist,
  • the stern “God will not be mocked!” bullshit, when God waited more than 70 years to strike Carlin down,
  • or the revelation that Keith Olbermann and Jerry Seinfeld will also eventually wind up in hell.

I know a lot of people hate the WBC, and I used to be one of them, but it’s pointless to hate them, really. They have no influence at all; any conservative politician with ambition beyond County Animal Carcass Removal would never–even if they privately agree with them–publicly endorse them, because they’re too pants-shittingly insane for even the GOP. They’ve done way less damage to the LGBT community than groups like Focus on the Family or Concerned Women for America, who have power and money. Wasting time and effort to silence the WBC is totally couterproductive.

It makes more sense to just view them as unintentional comedy, and laugh at their stupid antics. They hate and fear your laughter much more than they do your hatred, believe me.

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the weekend just past: stitching, good food and bad movies, and the death of george carlin

Nearing the halfway mark.

Natasha’s back in town (or maybe she never left), so we went out Saturday night. She suggested seeing The Hulk, but that just looks boring-bad, so I said how about The Happening, which looks hilarious-bad. She wanted Italian for dinner, so we went to Massimo’s, which is pretty pricey and usually a special occasion place, but what the hell, it really is the best food to be had in Fremont.

Let me tell you chickadees, The Happening is exactly as bad as you probably heard it was. Marky Mark constantly has a facial expression like he’s trying to figure out who farted and talks to everyone like they’re 5 years old; Zooey Deschanel spends the movie acting and looking like a total halfwit (“Close the doors and windows!” “Why?” OMG ZOOEY HAVE YOU NOT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL.)–and I don’t mean in the typical horror movie “This chick is an idiot” way, I mean she literally seems “special”; and both of them, in a bizarre directorial and/or acting choice whose reason I can not fathom, speak in a register way higher than their real voices. It’s like the set had a slow helium leak from somewhere the whole time. It’s CRAZY. Plus there’s some freak obsessed with hot dogs, and Betty “You’re outta the prom, Hargensen!” Buckley acting totally insane and accusing people of eyeing her lemon drink.

Anyway, you just GOTTA see it. Natasha and I were cracking up the whole time, and probably coming off as really obnoxious to everyone else in the theater. But it was the last showing, and there were only like 6 or 7 other people there anyway.

Also, on weekends of triple-digit heat, this is my new favorite thing:


Matcha milk tea + Häagen Dasz vanilla honey bee ice cream = DELISH.

So, this would have been a great weekend, except that George Carlin died on Sunday night. That totally sucks, it’s not like we have so many iconic and truly great comedians that we can afford to lose any of them. Who’s going to take his place, Larry the fucking Cable Guy?

Here is Carlin’s most famous bit, the 7 dirty words you can’t say on television:

I’m gonna miss that gravelly sarcasm.