Un-Rated, Extreme, Couldn't Show You This In The Theater Versions!

Coming soon to DVD, see the version of the movie that was too extreme to see in theaters. We're talking unrated, over-the-top footage that we could never slip by the censors. That's why this version is UN-RATED!

Increasiningly, I am getting annoyed with words like these being used to describe upcoming DVD releases. When I first started seeing "Un-Rated" DVD advertisements on television I used to think, Wow, that's going to be hot. There's probably going to people fucking and tits and ass all over the place. They'll probably have to end up selling the movie in a porno shop. But you know what? I watched a few of them and I began to see a fucking pattern. The movies were never really that extreme.

In fact, watching most of the so-called "Un-Rated" versions of the movies I couldn't even figure out why censors wouldn't let them run all the "extreme" footage. At most it would garner a movie an R rating, which really wouldn't put it over the top with the censors. It would just be an R rating. Big fucking deal. But you listen to the advertising and you'd think that it would cause most censors to commit suicide for desensitizing them so much to extreme footage that it would jeopardize their careers.

Now, that's not to say that all "Un-Rated" DVDs don't have some footage that would probably get red-lighted by a censor. What I am saying is that there is a trend now for more and more movies that are, for all intents and purposes, tame to get slapped with the "Un-Rated" label when they're marketing the DVD version just for the appeal of looking like a movie with balls.

Will Hollywood listen to me and stop with the "Un-Rated" hype? No, but I can complain about it here. Unless it has Tara Reid's nipple scar up close and personal it's probably not that extreme that I can't handle seeing it. Seriously, she should apply some foundation to that thing and at least try to make it look natural. Guh!

I'm just saying is all.

At Least We Have That Nipple Problem Under Control

Click here.

Yes, that's right. In the news today is Tara Reid who has now gone on record as saying that she has her "hooters under control" a year after inadvertently flashing a horribly scarred nipple on the red carpet at P Diddy/Puff Diddy/Diddy Puff Puff/Puff Daddy Piff/Pufferino Didderino/or that media mogul's current name is (I'll update as his current name barometer dicatates), anyway, that guy's 35th birthday party last year. First off, I need to hire a new publicist because I sorely need a red carpet and nipples at my next birthday party even if they are horribly scarred like from a Frankenstein movie (the nipples I mean, not the red carpet). Secondly, how the fuck does this even qualify as news? Holy shit! Are we so starved for an actual news story that Tara Reid declaring to the world that she's got her shit taped up and her scar tissue won't be haunting the dreams of prepubescent boys who thought googling "Tara Reid naked boobs" would be the source of all that was cool is actually considered a newsworthy item.

Ronny, stop the presses, quick! Tara Reid is holding a fucking press conference about her Frankentits! What's that you got on the front page? Horrible massacre in the Middle East? Thousands dead in flood ravaged and hurricane battered gulf coast? Fuck that, man! We've got a Pulitzer to rake in with Tara Reid's titties! Quick, get me Laurie Garrett on the horn! We need high calibre talent to cover this, stat! Where's my fucking coffee? This is going to be an all-nighter!

Okay, okay, I acknowledge the fact that showbiz news is showbiz news and in the western culture showbiz news if headline news. But, you better believe it that I can bitch about it.

Here in Edmonton, for example, we currently have in our midst Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie! Oh my fucking god! Everywhere they go in this town it's a fucking circus.

Today, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were spotted in a Safeway buying groceries. Check out our exclusive footage of the Hollywood mega-couple seeing the best that our fair city has to offer. Still to come: how photographing Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie with a disposable camera could net two teenage girls tens of thousands of dollars from the American media. Later: thousands dead in huge motherfucking hurricane that has wiped out the Gulf Coast and caused gas prices to rise to astronomical heights, time permitting.

Don't get me wrong, our celebrity worship is great. Hooray for celebrities and their tits and their groceries, but, really, are we that deprived of an exciting world that seeing candid photos of the Crocodile Hunter taking a dump on a $13.00 hooker's chest really that noteworthy? Is it any wonder that so many celebrities go on shotgun murder sprees in crowded shopping malls what with all this media scrutiny that they face with every single thing that they do?

I'm not saying that we have to excise all celebrity news from our media, but we should really examine our priorities. Hey, I love a good nipple story just like everybody else, but come on! Every fucking day?

But Michael, aren't you being a bit of a hypocrite? I mean, you blog endlessly about celebrities when you could be focusing your attention on bringing us the real news in the world.

Well, well, aren't you clever? First off, blogging does not equal news. I'm not a newscaster. I just swear a lot. Secondly, this seems to be all the shit I can find. I'm getting all this shit second hand. If there was more critical news in my reading diet I would write more about critical news and I would find an amusing way to incorporate nipples into it because I don't think we could cut nipples out of our diet cold turkey and I care about the habits of my readers.

Also, Hugh Hefner, you're offering Tara Reid millions to pose nude for Playboy? What the fuck? Did you see the frankentits? Nothing against fake boobs, but you're going to need a bigger Photoshop to smooth those nipples out.

Relegated to the back page? Tom Delay indicted. But at least we have nipple problem under control.

"Reality" Television Part 2

So, okay, there is more that I wanted to say about this bullshit.

I mean can you picture the producers of the reality show in question talking to the families.




Okay, punk family...

We're not punks.

For our show you are. Just act really punk. I mean people have to know that you're the epitome of punk. Say, how would you feel about Junior getting a mohawk and cussing out Jesus a little bit. Our research has shown that people who wear mohawks and cuss out Jesus a little are definitely more punk than just being an aver 10-year-old boy.

But I love Jesus and my friends will laugh at me if I get a mohawk.

Look, we need a punk rock family, are you in or not? There are literally thousands of families who would jump at the opportunity that I am now just placing right in your lap. So you have to cuss out Jesus a little and look kind of silly, big deal. Wouldn't it all be worth it if, say, we gave you jet-skis?

But we don't even live near a lake and I hate the water.

That's great! So I'll just need you to sign here and we'll put you on t.v. just as soon as our image consultant is happy with the punk rock look you're totally going to pull off!

But my favorite is Lawrence Welk; he's not punk rock.

Shut it, kid! Just do this little bitty thing for us and you'll get your very own jet-ski.




But now imagine if they had tried that same shit with a true punk rock god.

Network Executive Type:
So, punk rock family...

Iggy Pop:
We're not "punk rock family". We're family and I'll fucking drink soup out of your fucking skull you shit-stain corporate weasel if you try to fuck with us.

Netword Executive Type
Mr. Pop, we would never dream of "fucking" with you. We just want to make sure that you're up-to-snuff on what we need from you and your family to make our wife-swapping reality based show the best show that it can be.

Iggy Pop lunges across the table and crushes Network Executive Type with his abs.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that the network executive types picked for this show what appears to be the most docile family of punks I've ever seen. It's like a friendly, more conformist breed of punk. And that's what makes no sense. How can something be its own antithesis?

Hi, we're the punk family. We've brought you a lovely bouquet of wild flowers and a gift basket filled with jams and jellies from around the world. We hope you love living in our neighborhood. Be sure to watch for us on network television this fall. We're participating in a reality based television show in which we swap wives with a clean-cut family. It promises to be wacky. And we love wacky because we're a wacky bunch of punks rockers, aren't we kids?

YAY!

Bah! They should have put me on the wife-swapping show. Of course, I don't have a wife, but I would make everybody in my surrogate family sit around and bitch about all the shit that they are powerless to change. It promises to be the most depressing, profanity laden fucking show on television. Come on, fuckers, give a guy a chance!

"Reality" Television

So, tonight, I was flipping through the channels on cable just to kill some time before I hit the gym (I'm a late night athlete, don't you know) and I found a reality television show that caught my eye. Basically, it was one of those shows where two households swap wives just to see what kind of wacky mayhem will ensue. This particular episode was one of those ones that really looks for contrast between the two families. One family was the clean-cut, baseball loving loving family and the other one was supposed to be the prototypical punk rock family who live in what appears to be Satan's den. Of course, you just know there's going to be some wackiness ensuing on this shit.

Sadly, I was only able to stomach watching the fucking show for about 10 minutes before it irritated me so much that I had to turn it off. But then I began to think about it a little. Something was definitely bothering me about what I had just seen.

The 10 minutes or so that I watched revolved around the mothers laying down the rules for their new surrogate families. Naturally, the punk mother was bent on getting the clean-cut family to cast of the shackles of conformity and told them that they would be attending a punk rock concert. And, of course, the clean-cut mother told all the punk rockers that they would clean up their act and that junior would have to get rid of his mohawk and black clothes so that he could go to a batting cage and practice his baseball technique. This was totally fucking wacky.

But you know what it was that was bothering me about all this shit? I could not think of any punk rock loving family that would put forth the effort to appear on a reality television show. And not only that, but I don't really know of any punk rock families. That is to say that I know of people who are into punk music, but you don't really see whole families embodying the punk ethos. It seemed kind of surreal. It didn't seem to make sense.

So I began to wonder, then, if, in fact, any of this show was real. Oh sure, they call it reality television and they do all that candid interview shit, but could it really be scripted and performed by paid actors? Of course it can. I would have an easier time believing a script with a punk rock family who would conform enough to want to appear on a major network reality television show than a reality where punk families are clamoring over themselves to appear on network t.v. Doesn't that seem odd to you, too?

Fuck. And the worst part of all of this is that here I am expounding on a fucking t.v. show that I don't even like just because it bugs the shit out of me how stereotypical the people participating it all seemed to be.

But Michael, sometimes the stereotypes are true. There are, in fact, punk families and there are probably punk families who would love nothing more than to be on a wife-swapping television show just so that they can be wacky for the whole nation.

Now I don't claim to be some hardcore punk. If you saw me you'd probably swear that I was exact opposite of a punk. So it kind of bothers me that I would profess to know anything about what the punk rock ethos is. But I was always under the impression that punk was about non-conformity. It was about being the counter-culture.

I'm not sure how appearing on a reality television show helps punks, but more power to them.

Interrogating Brodie...An In Depth Interview With Canada's Sweetheart

Recently, while on a bender in Tijuana I had chance to catch up with Canada's Sweetheart, Brodie Millar. I thought that, as per my promises in the comments, it would behoof me to follow through and provide you, my readers, with the world's first interview with this enigmatic character who had the unique sense of vision to donate 13 dozen boxes of Always Extra Absorbent to the relief efforts in New Orleans. What follows is a shocking dialogue not for the faint of heart.

Michael:
Okay, then. So for the record, what is your name?
Brodie:
Brodie "Sexy Beast" Millar
Michael:
Very nice. So how did you come by the nickname "Sexy Beast" or is it more of a very progressive middle name given to you by your parents?
Brodie:
No, no. My parents would never give me the name "Sexy Beast" - that's just wrong! It was a name given to me by my previous girlfriend Lucia, a 48 year old crack-whore from 97th Street... ahh I miss being 14.
Michael:
Lucia? From 97th Street? I dated her when I was 15! Wow, what a small world this is! To think, all those times that she said she was going to take her "Sexy Beast" for a walk I thought she was talking about her dog and I would say, "Okay then, see ya!" Wow.
Brodie:
Wow, really? I never knew that.
Michael:
Did you ever meet Fernando? That was her pimp for a while? He used to smack her around with ruler for a while.
Brodie:
Ah yes, I met Fernando... what a crazy fellow he was (and still is).
Michael:
So, do you have a personal motto that you live by?
Brodie:
No motto really... I just try to live each day as it comes, always striving to be my personal best and as always keep my genital herpes under control... Damn B-Day present from Lucia! I thought it was cologne!
Michael:
Does it itch?
Brodie:
Only on the first Tuesday of every other month... Other then that it's great!
Michael:
Lovely. Do you have any favorite authors or artists to recommend to your fans out there?
Brodie:
I don't support art or so-called "artists". They are too free-thinking for my liking - propelling the expansion of communism in our society!
Michael:
Those damn communists! So do you have any words of advice for, say, a 12-year-old indonesian boy with dreams of porno movie stardom?
Brodie:
My advice is: Viagra, Viagra, Viagra! Nothing better to keep a young man "going" if you know what I mean... I know from experience.
Michael:
Perfect. I'll let Ping Lau know what you said. So, some of the sexy women readers out there have been dying to know....baked or mashed potatoes?
Brodie:
Mashed, definetly mashed... Much better to use as a lubricant in the love-making process. The baked potato just gets in the way and causes "slippage". But I must say, those bacon bits on the baked potato are something that everyone must experience at least once while fornicating with their respective loved one
Brodie:
mmm... I'm starting to get hungry and turned on... Strange how a mashed potato conversation can do that to someone
Michael:
I'm sure the female readers appreciate it greatly. So do you have any final bit of wisdom to impart on the readers before I wrap this up?
Brodie:
Live long, laugh often and learn to respect the potato!
Michael:
Excellent...thank you very much