USA! USA! USA!

What? What is that supposed to be?



Alright take away my dignity card, and give me my corporate branding before the speed wears off: bump bump bump buh baaaaaah, I love these fucking Olympics!!!! They are like real sports if you did them drunk and high in Canada in the winter.

Seriously this is how the Olympics should be: It starts off with a snuff movie, then everyone on every channel and in every bar starts saying things like, "The Olympics is lame" but secretly everyone watches it and yells at Apollo Ono to pull his head out of his ass, and wants to punch Costas right in his plastic face.

Also my hero, the beacon of what could be in an America where intelligent humor and irreverence reign supreme, the Colbert, pops up during Luge to make me spit orange juice out while I'm eating breakfast and watching TV. Plus how can you not like Biathlon; its fucking KGB train in, c'mon!

But really and truly, it is because now is the moment when we learn what the "state of the union" genuinely is. Alright here we go, AMERICA LITMUS TEST!

Litmus Test One: Is American "journalism" going to make stories out of things that are lame and ignore totally awesome things?

Is Lindsey Vonn hurt? Is her shin ok? All of the down hill skiing world (no one) is super concerned. This was the majority of NBC's painful and stupid coverage. They looked even dumber when Vonn just beasted everyone and it all looked like a crappy publicity stunt to put some snow bunny on the TV all day. However even though our major media is a nightmare we know the people in this mega-awesome-low-priced-live-better-land might still be ok because of the obvious Olympic reason: our smart mouth Curling team, in which the men's and women's team can openly be heard yelling F-bombs and thinly-racist insults at the other teams while being broadcasted on national day time TV. The best one was the US women's team being heard to say, "Seriously those chicks look like dudes" about the German team, and yes, I have time on my hands.

Litmus test results: American Media Sucks, Midwerstern Semi-Athletes still callous and awesome. The Midwest sponsored by Allstate

Litmus Test Two: Which direction is the Moral Compass?

Blah blah blah Boddie Miller isn't drunk and high, blah blah blah. Nobody cares and terrible ratings insue idiots, however Shaun White supposedly "smelled like a bong" according to an AP report (which means its made up) but that just make me even more proud and sorry for this statement: the American Snowboard team now officially represents America more than Congress. They were wearing action cowboy shirts as a uniform. Cowboy shirts. And yes he is a dumbass who looks and acts like a Ginger clown but is there anything more American than being a dumbass, with an entourage, then wearing an American flag bandit bandanna, and right when everyone is like "I hate this jackass" after he does ten minutes of self congratulatory high fives with his homeboys, this stoner flies like ten feet higher than every other asshole on the earth, and is doing tricks that don't appear to be possible in terms of physics. Suck on that other countries.

Litmus Test Two Results: In America no one cares about ethics, they care about doing super "sick" awesome sky tricks, while looking awesome, high on weed, and so ugly that its sad how crazy-laid they get. Concept of Coolness Sponsored by AIG

Litmus Test Three: How's that whole racism and gay hating situation going?
Well the Chi-town Shawnee Davis (apparently the only black guy there) won but speed skating is so baby boomer. However this one might be the clearest cut, America likes gays. We love the shit out of them and black people too we just make it up to cause problems because we are America and if there ain't drama we don't have shit to do.

But in this Olympics there is a perfect storm. There is a Russian figure skater who looks like a bad guy from Die Hard and acts like a giant prick and does unstoppable twisty-spin-things. No one can defeat him but wait, (cue Rocky Music) there is a cool looking Gay dude who dresses up in spooky Tim Burton outfits and IS AWESOME. Homosexuality Sponsored by Buger King

Litmus Test Result: We like gays and figure skating and feathered sequined out fits if they involve ninja-spins and kicking some dickhead from Eastern Europe's ass.

All in all I think I learned that America doesn't try very hard, doesn't care very much, and yet we are still way better at everything on average than the rest of the world, which is like ok to watch or whatever. Also Weed is legal to trade, smoke, and possess in BC. So you might not know what the hell you're doing Vancouver but you appear to be having an ape-shit good time doing it.

Wait a second, did I just do a whole thing about how cool the Olympics is? Oh shit, Tebow has been making my coffee and I keep losing giant segments of time. The hell is wrong with me?

The World's Unintentionally Funniest Semi-Human

Oh my god it's snowing, it's snowing lets have this on the news all day everyday, because it's totally news. There is a blizzard, flights might not run on time, lazy government workers get like a week off!!!! Oh sweet mother of god what are we to do? TELL ME RIGHT NOW!!!

Alright had to get that out.

Lets talk about how stupid things on the Internet are for a second (no not this blog, don't think about that) and by stupid things on the Internet, I'm talking, of course, about Jon Mayer. Not only does he look like Johnny Depp with Down syndrome, his music is also for backwards hat wearing goons and goonettes.

However, every so often a person is so lame and goonish they become hilarious (Schwarzenegger). Now I'm not saying that Mayer has reached that level yet but check out some of his quotes having to do with his love life, and you try not to laugh. You try.

On why him and Aniston broke up,
"One of the most significant differences between us was that I was tweeting, there was a rumor that I had been dumped because I was tweeting too much. That wasn't it, but that was a big difference. The brunt of her success came before TMZ and Twitter. I think she's still hoping it goes back to 1998. She saw my involvement in technology as courting distraction. And I always said, '"These are the new rules.'"

HAHAHAHAH, who talks like that? If this guy was self-aware he would be a comedy genius.

On having sex with Jessica Simpson,
"There are people in the world who have the power to change our values. Have you ever been with a girl who made you want to quit the rest of your life? Did you ever say, "I want to quit my life and just fuckin' snort you? If you charged me $10,000 to fuck you, I would start selling all my shit just to keep fucking you."

Man the poetry of it all is so astounding. Also lets be clear that I am not defending the honor of any woman who dates Mayer. They are instantly asking to be made fun of. With that said, I like the idea that in front of a camera and a journalist in a sensible suit, he was shouting with heart-wrenching conviction, "just fucking snort you."

However my personal favorite is after he made out with Perez Hilton,
"All of a sudden I thought, I can out-gay this guy right now, I grabbed him and gave him the dirtiest, "tonguiest" kiss I have ever put on anybody-almost as if I hated fags. I don't even think our mouths were touching when I was tongue kissing him, that's how disgusting this kiss was, I'm a little ashamed, I think it lasted about half a minute. I really think it went on too long."

And there you have it Mayer isn't gay, his ego is just a murderous force of nature that is sweeping through our universe.

If you didn't laugh at those you are dead inside.

Completely separate thought, or is it?, mourn the Fashion Hooligan. He will be the best dressed corpse ever.

That is all.

May the SuperBowl Be With You

Worst part about the Super Bowl:

When after you rooted for a team from an awesome swamp town full of alcoholics to win, and then they do but the MVP of the team gets up on the podium and starts crying while staring at a baby. Then he thanks god, like a wiener, and then cries some more. Can you say let down.

Best part of the Super Bowl:

Watching a platinum blonde lesbian and a skeleton child pornography enthusiast creep everybody out on stage while they play lipsynced crap versions of songs from a band that used to be awesome.

Creepiest part of the Super bowl: come on admit it.

Even though our Corporate Gods made a few weird-you-out joke-attempts to overtake him, you know damn well who it was.

This idiot:

Everybody Gets an Oscar, Part II: The Final Chapter

Dear Friendly Reader,
So I'm back. The last column depressed me so much that I didn't write for several days. Knowing subconsciously in my heart that psychology and self-assurance are evil I became mired in ennui.

Some mysterious men defiantly didn't come to my house and force me to go to a Dynanetics center and get audited. I did this of my own free accord. I am now much more stable and able to write the remainder of my article correctly.

As a well constructed immortal spiritual being who understands all the brilliance of L.Ron. lets get started with my reviews of the rest of the Oscar nominations.

They will be grated on a scale of great to exceptionally, classically great.

The Hurt Locker:
Insanely great, don't say it wasn't, they'll hear you. It was great great.

Up in the Air:
Immensely Great, so great that I had trouble dealing with the crushing feeling of loss I had after the film ended.

Precious: Wildly, Viciously great. Will never be forgotten in the annuals of time, will live longer than Shakespeare. The classic work of art for its genre: kid hating.

Inglorious Basterd: So great that my hands shake as I type knowing that Hollywood and its glorious love can construct something that is worth more than the breath in my lungs.

A Serious Man: Greaty great great, so great that I didn't realize that I just pissed myself.

Well folks there you have it. Hollywood is great. L. Ron is my prophet, the world is now at peace, and some how somebody thinks Steve Martin should still be receiving money for accomplishing nothing. Accept your movie overlords and know that they have blessed you with these priceless works of art because they love you.

Your corporate sponsors for this article were Babyboomers: we just can't ever stop fucking everything up, Dynetics: love it or else, and facetiousness.

May the Aliens bless you.

This Year Everyone Gets an Oscar, Part one

Doo Doo Do Do doot doo doo,

It's that time of the year when if you actually care about movies, know how to read beyond a sixth grade level, and have a soul, you begin to feel a knifing pain in your side because the best picture list came out and revealed that the world around you is so so so much dumber than you were beginning to forget.

This year the scientologists' thought it would be fun, (make more money) to include ten movies for best picture. Now you may be wondering, "isn't that insanely ridiculous and does nothing but devalue the American film industry and it's say on things?"

Well you would be absolutely correct, but who cares, because what really matters is what over-priced dresses a bunch of skeletons are going to show up wearing for emotionally devoid sociopaths to take pictures of and kahki-shortwearing morons to gawk at through HD TVs in the Walmart mill towns.

Yay Oscars! Fuck YEAHHHHH!H!!H!H!H!!!H!H!!HH! (fire a machine gun off in the air as you read this)

So lets's talk about the nominations. They will be graded on a scale of how many children must be sacrificed to Xenu to keep Tom Cruise happy: one activates the Tom anger-based-eye-lasers, five equals Tom being all smiley and giving creepy publicity-stunt-kisses to Katie.

AVATAR: Super cool to look at but for anyone who's played Final Fantasy high, it was like 'aight. The first half was pretty great; where you forget just what is CGI dreams and what is "real life" and then it turned into the cheesiest, easiest to see coming, formulaic ending ever. If you see it on your TV in your house and not in a movie theatre with crazy 3D glasses it would be like watching a well funded episode of Stargate: Atlantis.

Likely hood it will win: Stupid

It gets two of Beck's Kids: Tom is glaring at everybody from behind those sunglasses.

The Blind Side: If you like this movie, you have probably never read a book and live in an all white suburb where you secretly believe white people are here to save poor black kids and turn them into football stars, or whatever the garbage message of this afterschool special is. I watched ten minutes of this movie illegally to write this, it was like whipping myself in the eyes. "I'm Sandra Bullock, I'm yo new cool momma who loves any old fat kid no matter if they black. My sass is chermin' ain'ts it?" No.

Likely hood it will win: The portal opens and out steps the demon.

It gets a couple of fingers off of one of Rob Thomas's kids: CRUISE SMASH!!!!

District Nine: Smart, interesting Sci fi with some nice camera tricks, story twists, and solid acting. Also the CGI was incorporated well enough that at times I, gasp, barely noticed it was CGI. Could have been a half hour shorter without losing anything, but over all, extremely solid and a nice little accomplishment for a director's first feature. I would be cool with this winning but it won't.

Likely hood it will win: Sci Fi wins best picture? HAHAHAHAH

It gets all four Elfman Children: Tom is now kissing his own blood smeared lips in the mirror.

UP: Weakest Pixar ever. At no point did I laugh. At no point did I care.

Likely Hood it will Win: The Disney Frozen Brain has to reactivate

It gets no more Travoltas: Tom hisses, sprouts wings, and flies off into the night.

An Education: Creepy and sexy and funny. It had some stand out acting and some even better writing. Hard to make such a strange story so affecting and relatable without everyting getting too weird. But there were no real strides in directing or editing or over all prodcution. It was just a solid , interesting movie. It deserves acting accolades but not a best picture nod.

Likely Hood it will win: It doesn't involve James Cameron making alot of people a shit ton of money enough.

It gets three and a half Paul Haggis Spawn: Tom is all pouty after because he is still hungry.

Join me tomorrow for part two where the ridicule continues. And just think I haven't even started making fun of Jews or British People yet!!!!

DISCLAIMER: WRITTEN BY SLIGHTLY BRAIN DAMAGED JERKOFF

Greetings From Hell

Hello, It's me! The Lunchbox Hell (music industry) correspondent: Chemical Ali!

Hell is going pretty well if you were wondering, me, John Banaum, and Satan are starting a pretty sweet New Metal band called: Genesis. Why are you snickering? What?

Death to America! Death to Everybody I don't like! Captain Crunch cuts up the roof of my mouth! Alright, anyways now that shouting threats portion is over, it is time to get down to the side of my business that involves less gassing; entertainment journalism.

First off how did TV on the Radio, Phoenix, Them Crooked Vultures, and Animal Collective not get nominated for Grammy? That's because they are good. HA HA HA! See is like upside down world, HA HA HA!

Anyways, you have probably already watched most of the coverage for the Grammys on the Hell (Fox) News channel but here is the hell scoop that you might not have caught.

Four signs of the black-winged apocalypse:















Eerily hypnotic things that make you have out of body experience where you realize television is in control of you:















Telekinetic kid moment, like super sweet movie, Firestarter:
















And precise moment the black clock made from children bones and Swatch parts struck the nightmare hour:


I'll be back with more music news in the future. So, yeah I gotta get back to holding down Mormons and punching them in the stomach with Alexander Hamilton and Socrates. Death to the Country music! Death to America!

The Last of the Dead Writer Columns

No one cares what I had a dream about last night, but I rarely get ones with celebrities in them, and even rarer is when the dead show up. It's new-agey but I always have a serious undertow when famous people, who actually were important, to me show up in dreams.

What I'm saying is the guy who took my writing virginity, whose death I have desperately tried to forget, showed up in a dream where we both were teachers at a weird private school and no one knew that we secretly hung out in a sub-basement, watched almost indescribably horrific movies, and smoked pot.

I didn't actually know Jim Carroll so it always spooks me out a little that he would be in a dream that was so clear. That his personality would be so fully formed. I always wonder about that, because if there isn't anything telepathic or supernatural about dreams then how do three dimensional people, sometimes ones I've never met, live there. Are there like ten thousand people living in the depths of my brain? How do we speak German in dreams? Are we telepathic radio towers when we're in REM? (Not Micheal Stipe)

For the majority of my childhood I wrote all the time but it was mostly fan fiction about the Ninja Turtles and Spiderman or stories about guys who crash landed on other planets. But Carroll tore a hole inside of my brain. I come from a family of movie people where the term "inappropriate for certain ages" was scoffed at. So when the fourteen year old me rented the The Basketball Diaries I was more worried that the blockbuster guy wouldn't give it to me, then if it would change my whole life.

The moment that it was over, I did what I normally did for most of my adolescence: I went into the driveway, and dribbled a basketball while I talked to myself. But it didn't last long. Before I watched that movie I wanted to be an athlete and maybe a fighter pilot, maybe an astronaut. The movie itself was pretty good but it was the direct pieces of Carroll's writing, the snippets of his actual poems that just kept churning over and over in my head.

They were't boring. They weren't pompous, they felt like poetry that existed right now, they weren't voices from dead pasts or from years into the future, Carroll was the guy staring out the window on the bus, he was the voice in your head when you were stealing CD's, he was the words you were looking for.

I went inside and for the first time I wrote because I wanted to rather than because I was bored in class. Yeah I was just ripping him off at first (maybe I still am), I started ripping lots of people off at first until I didn't have to, until I could play the concertos without counting the key strokes.

I haven't stopped. I am now addicted to it, I seriously feel like I haven't smoked a cigarette in a week if I don't write for a couple of hours a day, and maybe that was the attraction, the connection with me and Carroll, we're addicts. Addicts in good things and bad: to soul, to poetry, to beauty, to music, to technology, to drugs, to fun, to girls, to ignoring pain, to everything. This is all getting really heavy, I know, and probably more than a little pretentious, but when he died last September I washed it under the porch.

I couldn't stand to look at it. He looked like a skeleton when he died. You don't see a lot of fat writers go down. I was glad for the dream. I was glad I remembered where all this started, because I don't think it will ever end. I now feel that odd sensation of loss without regret. The lunchbox will mostly be about nonsense but Carroll was hilarious and touching at the same time. I was hoping the lunchbox could be the same.

He will be our patron saint.

It was nice to meet you Jim, thanks for ruining my life.