Finally, a Pop Singer Takes Responsibility

The douchebag in the middle--Charles Haddon, lead singer of legendarily obscure British pop band Ou Est Le Swimming Pool, which just rolls off your tongue--climbed a telecommunications tower in Belgium yesterday and jumped to his death. Immediately following a performance at a music festival with a funny name, which, when translated, means "PimplePop."

What gives, right? After only three singles, OELSP's transgressions against humanity's ears/minds had already reached a tipping point?

I can only assume so, since only forty people have ever heard any of their music. And two of them are now dead.

Ou Est Le Swimming Pool's first album--Christ Died for Our Synths (how's that for agonizing guilt?)--is scheduled for an October release.

The real question, though, is whether or not Christ will finally forgive the band for their synths and move on, stop torturing all mortals by lording his own death over millions of guilt-ridden believers.

Something tells me that won't happen, but I'll keep my finger on the pulse for ya.

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'Temple of Doom' in the House, Yo!

This is why this whole MMA fad must be stopped:

Jarrod Wyatt, a 26-year-old mixed martial arts fighter, is accused of brutally murdering his 21-year-old friend, Adam Powell. According to the Times-Standard, prosecutors claim the pair took mushrooms along with two other friends in late March. The paper reports that witnesses say Powell and Wyatt "became preoccupied with the idea that a tidal wave was coming, that the end of the world was upon them and that a struggle between God and the devil was taking place."

When police arrived, they found Wyatt naked and covered in dried blood. According to an officer at the scene, Wyatt admitted to cutting out his victim's tongue and heart. Powell's corpse included an 18-inch incision on his chest, and Wyatt allegedly said he cooked the 21-year-old's heart in a wood stove to "stop the devil."

The accused killer faces murder charges in Del Norte County (Calif.) Superior Court. The Times-Standard has additional details on the charges.

(courtesy Huffington Post)

And so is this: cauliflower ear.

And this: some dude thinking he can replace Mr. T.

In other news, I ate mushrooms all weekend long and giggled a lot as I played rummy with Arthur Killer Kane and little baby Jesus in a giant time-traveling spaceship made out of eggplants and baby food.

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21st Century Jesus

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Jesus Wants Revenge

Most Christians believe that Jesus died for our sins, that he heroically took whatever violence Pilot had to offer if not with a wry smile, at least without a tear.

What if Pilot just had a great PR team and this is not the case? I mean, none of us were there. Nobody we know was there. As far as we know, the world is only about 100 years old and everything from ancient artifacts to pyramids to the moon landing was faked by Hollywood effects personnel hired by Halliburton to confuse/mollify us.

What if Jesus was pissed off, felt betrayed by his only friends, tricked by his father, and desperately did not want to die, begged for his life like a sniveling Nancyboy, even offered his soul to the devil for one more day running through the long grass along the river at sunset?

What if this whole time Vengeful Jesus has been flying around the world like a mischievous ghost, wearing a white sheet over his head, causing trouble wherever he can, putting evil thoughts in people's heads, and biding his time until the 2000th anniversary of his murder, when he plans to drop the big one on us?


It is just as likely as anything else ever postulated about this chap, you realize. People like to think he is nice and sweet as he beatifically looks down on Earth from the heavens, but people like to think George Bush and Katherine Heigl are sweet--it doesn't make it true.

With the 2000th anniversary of his death looming within reach--in 2030--most of us will live to see this day. Should we be scared? Will this factor into the plot of Roland Emmerich's parting turd, as he prepares to leave this world at the ripe old age of 75?

Roland, if you're reading this right now, swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills and finish that vodka in the freezer. Because I said so.

If you ignored me and you're still reading this, I've already got the tagline/poster, asshole:

2030

We Should Have Expected It After What We Did

I get five points off the gross of every movie you make from now on and we call it even.

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