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Mike Tyson is a Really Nice Guy!

Most boxing historians hold Mike Tyson just outside of the top ten heavyweight boxers of all time, which is probably about right. He couldn’t fight going backwards, if he couldn’t dissuade a man with his power he had a problem, and he showed a proclivity for buckling mentally when the man in front of him refused to be bullied, like Buster Douglas and Evander Holyfield did.

However, in his short lived prime he was a monster of epic proportions. He massacred people. Scientists watched his fights with incredible dedication, studying his flaunting of basic theories of inertia. CSI agents stood on standby at the venues. In his early twenties he hit so hard that getting into the same elevator as him violated eight out of ten life insurance policies in the federal United States. Every one of his fights came with a free lifetime speech impediment. Let’s re-live his 5 greatest acts of savagery.


I’m not sure which warlocks it took to convince poor Henry Tillman that an intelligent life and career decision for him would be to fight Mike Tyson in his first comeback fight after his shock loss to Buster Douglas, but black magic aside, this fight happened.

Tillman realized pretty early on that he was there to be cannon fodder. Probably five minutes after he signed the contract and the occult voodoo wore off. In the ring announcements he paced around nervously and for the first two and a half minutes of the first round he danced from post to post trying to avoid as much of the dynamite in Tyson’s gloves as possible. But he could only survive for so long.

Tyson started to time Tillman’s movement, and began to corral him with left hooks that halted his lateral movement. And then just when Tillman thought he might see the end of the round and possibly, his family again, God shook his head and said “enough of that shit”, planting Tillman’s feet just long enough for Mike Tyson to unleash an overhand right hand to Henry’s temple that landed so hard he forgot most of his childhood.

It is important to note that in the video Tillman can clearly be seen to be both conscious and sober after being knocked down by that landmine. But he would not be getting up. Not after having his brain dislodged by a gloved punch from a man to whom gravity and basic physics clearly did not apply. He took the count out and substantial internal bleeding and packed together the remnants of his skull, to go on and continue the rest of his life in relative peace.


Larry Holmes was a badass. Because he has a lisp and the face of a young African baby pondering complex trigonometry, people tend to overlook this fact. He broke his hand against Roy Williams and still fought to a unanimous decision win. He took the unholy mother of all punches from Earnie Shavers and not only got up where most were knocked out, but got up to win. After deciding he didn’t like reigning Heavyweight champion Trevor Berbick one night, he ran up onto the hood of a car and jumped off and drop-kicked Berbick in the face.

Unfortunately that was then and this was now and Larry was old and Mike Tyson was in dreadnought mode. We’re talking full-on cheat-code version, where he was training from 4am in the morning and keeping his body in shape by dining on old World War 2 shrapnel and the refrigerated corpses of Norse Gods.

Poor old Larry had made a career out of keeping his opponents at the end of his long, all-time great caliber jab. Sadly Tyson, a naturally short heavy weight, trained to get inside jabs like R.Kelly trained to get inside high school proms, and in any case, was high on raw meat and bad intentions. While Larry circled and shot the jab at the places he and nine out of ten laws of physics dictated Mike Tyson should have been, Mike darted in and out and then in where he remained, to beat Holmes like an erection.

Holmes had always been susceptible to an over hand right and that was the punch that did the damage to him in the end. You didn’t stand in front of a prime Mike Tyson and expect to be able to tell that story with a mouth accommodating a full set of teeth. That was just not how things went. And that’s not how it went that night. Tyson uncorked a punch that hit him like a medieval hand grenade made out of VX poison gas and several conjoined erections and Larry never did figure out the answer to that trigonometry question. He just stayed as far away from the beautiful light until the ring officials and the members of his corner were able to coax the life back into his body.


“Mike might have to run around the boardwalk to get his work out for the night”

Michael Jack Johnson got hit so hard so early into his fight with the prehistoric animal posing as Mike Tyson, that the ring timer reflected the time of knockout as sixteen BC. It was even earlier than that when it became apparent this was a homicide waiting to happen, as MJJ waded out into centre ring with his hands held up in the same position that Irish men in the prohibition era and sorority sisters in the modern era do when they fight. He also had his socks pulled up and a hair cut that offended both Simon Cowell and Carrot Top.

The fight was scheduled for six rounds but anybody who thought it was going to last that long had clearly not been informed that Mike Tyson wrote novels in less than six rounds. He punched people out in negative time. A shot to the liver put MJJ down and invalidated his donor card simultaneously.

Johnson took a count as he pondered what life would be like without a working digestive system and Tyson formulated a punch that would dislodge the part of the brain that reminded your legs to stand up. After the count finished Tyson walked over and hit him with the punch. MJJ rolled over on to his front and reconnected with his deceased grandmother.


Hindsight is easy. Before Tyson retired Michael Spinks, this unification fight was considered a 50/50 proposition by many learned boxing analysts. Wally Matthews, a very astute fight reporter for New York Newsday picked Spinks to TKO Tyson. Former greats and champions like Tony Zale, Rocky Graziano and one Muhammad Ali all predicted a victory for the undefeated Michael Spinks. They all thought the clever Spinks would outsmart young Tyson.

The first problem with that theory though was that Spinks had the brains but he couldn’t hit Tyson with them. Spinks was also scared. He walked to the ring like a guilty child walking to his mum’s room after she yelled for him. Once there things only got worse, as he had to deal with what is still considered the most intimidating ring entry in boxing history. Tyson entered that night surrounded by his gargantuan entourage, to no music; just a series of animal sounds and clanging metal. Spinks, in the ring, reached inside his shorts to find no trace of his testicles.

Tyson was perhaps at his best that night. Lightning fast, he ripped straight into Spinks, who backed up and didn’t even bother trying to counter-punch, as had been his pre-fight strategy. In his prime, during the time it took your brain to decide to punch and then to transmit that message to the relevant muscles to make that action happen, Mike Tyson had already moved over to the side and cooked breakfast. And lest we forget that Spinks was paralyzed with fear. He would rather have been trapped in a room with a Predator at that point. Spinks tried to tie Tyson up every time he got near, but the kid was smart. And dirty. Tyson threw a short elbow inside that drew a warning from the referee but was enough to dissuade Spinks from tying up again.

The criticism of Mike Tyson that emerged later in his career was that he faded and gave up mentally when he could not bully or intimidate an opponent. Fortunately in this fight from the first bell, Spinks was so intimidated that in clinches he tried to reach inside a pocket to give Tyson his lunch money. A body shot shortly after put Spinks down and then a straight right hand put him on his ass thinking about retirement. He never fought again.


Joe Frazier was one of the greatest Heavyweight champions boxing has ever seen. He was small for the division and still managed to cut a swath across the division during its absolutely stacked golden age. George Chuvalo, Buster Mathis, Oscar Benavena, Jerry Quarry and Bob Foster all fell by the wayside as Smokin’ Joe demolished all-comers. He holds the greatest win in the history of boxing to his legacy – a 15 round decision over the closest version to a prime Muhammad Ali the world ever saw.

Unfortunately for Marvis Frazier, no one seemed to tell him he was not Joe Frazier.

Tyson respect Marvis’ father Joe. But he also respected a right uppercut, which is what he used to eviscerate any desire to fight Marvis Frazier had that night. Frazier backed straight into the ropes, which against a prime Tyson was like noticing Jaws on the horizon and backing straight into the deep water covered in chum. Tyson saw him step back and licked his lips. Frazier waited for Tyson to come in and grabbed at where his elbows were supposed to be to lock him up. Except instead of finding his elbows he found the four horsemen of the apocalypse, three grizzly bears and a vial of small pox. A left hook sent Frazier backwards.

Tyson tasted blood right away, and went at Frazier like a kid whose mom had deleted his saved game. Frazier managed to step backwards and into the corner, where Tyson owns a holiday home specifically for under prepared boxers who expect to stand in a stationary position in front of him. Tyson threw a right to the body and then an uppercut that split both Frazier’s guard and his face. Tyson watched him crumble like a five dollar hooker and then returned the neutral corner where he nodded to his trainer and high fived Hitler.

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Good Job on Transformers, Michael Bay!

Of all of the gems of pop culture from my childhood, the animated Transformers Movie is the one that really stuck with me. I joined Daniel and Arcee when they cried over the dead (and for no apparent reason, black) body of Optimus Prime. I high-fived my imaginary friends when Hot Rod belatedly grew a set of nuts and assumed leadership of the Autobots. And I threw up my lunch in venomous disgust when that mongoloid Ultra Magnus just up and surrendered the Matrix to Galvatron like a bitch.

It was Flaubert who once mused that “exuberance is better than taste”. But he couldn’t possibly have known that Michael Bay would be in his position of power some 120 years after his death, so we shouldn’t hold that against him. The Bay adaptations started out mediocre and got worse from there. Exponentially so. Screenwriters Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman did an admirable job in writing an interesting story for the first film while at the same time managing what would add up to stupid costs for CGI robot rendering. When it was last checked around Hollywood, the general estimate for the price to render a fully transformed Optimus Prime sat at around sixty five bajillion dollars and one healthy human child. This was problematic for the producers as a bajillion dollars is an imaginary unit of measurement and not all of them have kids.

That said though, Bay took what was a very commendable first film and aspired to make it “bigger and better”, by making the action scenes twice as difficult to understand, keeping Megatron looking like he transformed into a set of expensive silverware, and cranking up the Sam’s mom humor that a total of three pot heads enjoyed in the first film. He also felt that the addition of racial stereotype transformers would improve things. They did not. Ditto for metal testicles on Devastator.

Let us compare the original 1986 masterpiece; Transformers: The Animated Movie and Michael Bay’s modern day trilogy; Transformers, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, and Transformers: Dark of the Moon


The main character in the animated Transformers Movie was Hot Rod, who was annoying and also a colossal fuck up. He single-handedly causes the demise of the most iconic Autbot in the species’ history and then spends the rest of the movie making fun of an old war hero and complicitly playing second fiddle to the only Transformer more worthless and inept than he is – Ultra fucking Magnus.

However, what we do experience in this movie (that it should be pointed out is aimed at children), is genuine character development. Hot Rod begins the movie as a tempestuous rebel who spends his days fishing with Daniel and disrespecting Kup’s construction projects. But over the course of the film he learns about responsibility and by the end he assumes leadership of the splintered Autobots and fulfills his destiny by unlocking the Matrix. It’s one of the most basic and oft-seen character arcs in literature but that doesn’t make it any less real or fulfilling to watch play out.

The same cannot be said for Shia LaBeouf’s Sam Witwicky character whose only real internal change from the beginning of the trilogy to the end is that he has prefers chicks with British accents to American ones. He is still irresponsible, he still sasses his parents, he is still selfish. And he still doesn’t respect authority. Not parental authority, mind you, but legitimate, top level military and legal authority. Sam still doesn’t give a shit. He has a degree by the end of Dark of the Moon, and a job, and a girlfriend with a British accent, but there is no growth as a character at all. He learns no lessons. Over the course of three two hour long films, he learns not one lesson.

Every film he defies the wishes of the government and gets away with it. In Revenge of the Fallen he flat out cheats on Mikaela in his first week away from home. And gets caught in the act. And when his new, way too hot for him girlfriend in Dark of the Moon begs him to please not get himself involved in a civil war between 20 foot alien robots he says too bad and does it anyway. And within a half hour of any of this these girls are back in love with him. In fact in Revenge of the Fallen, I don’t think Mikaela takes more than five minutes before she forgets about the fact her boyfriend just made out with some chick behind her back. It’s like watching the same shit play out over and over again with this guy. The writers don’t achieve in three movies what the animated Transformers movie did in one.


Saying the animated Transformers Movie had good eye candy is like saying Dungeons and Dragons is a good way to pick up chicks. I guess if you’re a sentient machine, the sight of Arcee and her Princess Leia buns might get you off but even then she’s pretty annoying and achieves basically nothing throughout what is essentially the most pivotal war in Transformers history. Also I’m not a sentient machine so who cares.

Megan Fox on the other hand, can give a corpse an erection. Rose Huntington-Whitely might have come in to round the trilogy off but this is Fox’s franchise. It was hers since she opened the hood of that car and solidified when a million nerds made animated gifs out of her straddling a motorcycle. And Michael Bay might direct action scenes like he’s jacked up on methamphetamines and there’s a Motley Crue video playing in his head, but if there’s one thing he can do it is objectify the female form. I’m quite frankly shocked that he didn’t have her deliver all of her lines while suggestively eating bananas.


Scientists in labs have done specific research and concluded that there is literally no greater “Fuck Yeah” moment in the history of film, than when in the animated Transformers Movie, Prime stands awkwardly in front of the Autobot shuttle and states:

“Megatron must be stopped, no matter the cost”

And then goes on a rampage, laying waste to everything in sight as if he was Mel Gibson at a homosexual’s Bah Mitzvah. All of this culminating in the iconic final fight to the death between himself and Megs. Rocky could have beaten Apollo Creed, Ivan Drago, Mr. T and Third World Poverty with a single southpaw hook and it would have paled in comparison. Whenever I watched this scene as a kid my imagination got a boner.

Of course all of Prime’s good work is undone by Hot Rod, who watches Prime decimate every Decepticon within a ten mile radius without so much as breaking a sweat, and then for some reason decides that an unarmed Megatron who is on his knees with Prime’s ten foot cannon pointed at his head, might be a problem. A problem that is, that can be remedied by jumping in front of Megs like a human shield and allowing him to pick up a gun of his own to blast away at Prime with until he verges upon death. Real fucking smooth Hot Rod. You can pay a hardened Navy Seal a million dollars to watch this scene and not put his head in his hands and shake his head and he will not be able to do it.


Prime is the most iconic figure in the Transformers mythos. There were those that were arguably more influential throughout the canon but none that caught the imagination of a kid (or twenty-something year old nerd) like he did. And the 1986 animated Transformers movie captured that perfectly. It’s easy to forget that he’s only in the film for about twenty minutes. He gets killed off by Megatron pretty early on. But within that span of time, he avenges about half of the Autobot population, shows up with the Dinobots to prevent leaving a thousand brothers hanging, single-handedly decimates some of the more renowned Decepticons (by pretty much just driving into them) and then in his coup de grace breaks his foot off in Megatron’s ass to a Stan Bush track. His legacy then lingers over the rest of the movie as some try to reconcile and move on from his death, while others do their best to accept the destiny he had in mind for them.

Not quite the case with Michael Bay’s films, which make him look like an idiot who is capable at times of slight heroism. But mostly the idiot thing. Let’s get this straight right off the bat: in the Bay films, Prime gets beaten like an erection by every major villain he comes across. He gets his ass handed to him in three straight films. In the first film Sam has to save him with the cube of convenient screen-writing, in the second he is torn to pieces and literally killed, and in the third it takes an act of massive back-stabbery from Megatron to eliminate the threat that he was COMPLETELY powerless to stop. He also gets to bungle around Sam’s back garden like a roofied sorority sister after her first kegger.

No need to address the flames on Prime’s paint job.


It is a long held theory in film that an action film can only be as good as its primary villain. It’s why The Dark Knight was so great. And why the scene where Hans Gruber pretended to be American was so important in Die Hard. So let’s look at what we’re dealing with in this regard for both films.

It could be argued that in Michael Bay’s Transformers films, the primary villain is Michael Bay. That guy is a disaster. The Decepticons do their best to give us exciting action scenes but Bay can’t help but direct them like his camera is mounted on a bouncy castle during a ten year old’s birthday party. The final battle scene in the city is shot like Bay wrapped the camera in a rig made out of honey, yelled action, and then tossed it to a couple of bears he had brought in from the zoo. You can’t make out a god damn thing. I’ve seen Japanese tentacle rape porn with better framing. Hugo Weaving does great work voicing Megatron, but by the end of the third movie he is relegated to playing puppet master and then fantastically being tricked by Sam’s girlfriend. A good indicator of the esteem Megs held by the end of the franchise is that when finally, the Autobots are being laid to waste and planet Earth colonized by the Cybertronian starships, he is sat on his ass, missing an arm, in an alley.

Everyone knows that the 1986 animated Transformers movie can be pretty cleanly split between the first third and second two thirds. In the first part Unicron lingers in the background and Megatron is the primary villain. And he is awesome. Perfect. Any time Megs is talking is considered downtime for him. Otherwise he is tearing ass. He enters the movie by blowing a hole through an Autobot shuttle and then decimating the crew, making Ratchet bleed smoke from his eyes and then in his crescendo he destroys a pleading Ironhide without a second thought. It is not shown but over the rest of the journey, as they travel to Earth, Megatron kills at least fifteen Decepticons just because he is antsy and that kind of mass carnage is the only way to settle his nerves.

After the battle with Prime, Soundwave commits what is even for him, an epic act of brown-nosing by carrying Megatron’s limp carcass in retreat to safety. Once in space, Astrotrain proclaims that they must jettison some weight because the dearth of Decepticons in his implausibly and suddenly large chassis is too heavy. In the weightlessness of deep space. In the weightlessness of deep space they have too much weight. Many a science lesson was undone that day. Anyway, Megs gets the shaft and this leads to him becoming Galvatron, who is like Megatron except with a more interesting colour palette a little more gusto, and infinitely better troops. Some of them have mustaches.

And then still lingering in the background is Unicron, who is what Tom Cruise is in Tom Cruise’s mind. He inadvertently unites cultures. He eats planets. He is the most powerful being in the galaxy. Interestingly, there have been several reports following the production of the animated Transformers Movie that the legendary Orson Welles, who voiced Unicron, didn’t give a shit about the film. He recorded the voice work in a day and described the experience as “doing voiceover work for some cartoon where toys beat up other toys”. Ironically, he ended up doing some absolutely stellar work, providing one of the most sinister and ominous villain voices in the history of film. So basically, fuck him and fuck Citizen Kane.


US Special Forces and gypsy bare knuckle boxers all agree that if you don’t beat the shit out of someone to Stan Bush’s “Dare” then you are a pussy. It is actually in the Guinness Book of World Records for “Most Awesome Song of All Time”. If a girl listens to it ten times in a row she is automatically pregnant. These are just some of the facts about “Dare”. It is a masterpiece. Jean Claude Van Damme had it play at his wedding. Standing within twelve feet of a jukebox that carries the song is actually in violation of most celibacy pacts.

And there is also “The Touch”, which is also by Stan Bush and accompanies Optimus Prime’s rape buffet. Many of you will remember Mark Wahlberg’s character bending the song over and abusing it from behind in PT Anderson’s seminal Boogie Nights.

Fun fact! This song was actually originally written for the Stallone flick, Cobra.

What should also not be overlooked are Lion’s incredible metal Transformers theme from the opening credits, and the ingenious use of Weird Al’s “Dare to be Stupid” on Planet Junkion.

Before getting to Michael Bay’s abominable MTV soundtrack in the modern trilogy it is important to note that the immortal Stan Bush, in between deflowering virgins and drinking unicorn blood, took the time out of that busy schedule to record songs for Bay’s Transformers including a reworking of “The Touch”, and a new track called “Till All Are One”. He did that shit on spec. No one asked him for it, he just went and did it as a kind gesture. Bay neglected to use either

I don’t actually know how, as Michael Bay, you recover from that. There might be a way, I’m just saying I don’t know what it is. It definitely isn’t putting Sam’s parents in matching tracksuits though. So the questions are still out there on that one. But he went for a collection of Linkin Park, Goo Goo Dolls, and whoever else his assistant told him was “hot” that particular week. I have nothing against the Goo Goo Dolls. Saying I liked “Iris” got girls to think I was sensitive when I was in high school, just like it did every other guy I know, but at the end of the day we’re comparing those guys to Stan Bush, whose voice is a combination of peak heavy metal, a chorus of Angels, and the whispers of Jesus.

I’ve rambled on for over two thousands words about Transformers now and I’m not sure what that says about me as a person, what this will make you think about coming back to Ashley’s site, or whether I will ever have sex again, but I feel pretty confident that I have made my point for why the new Michael Bay movies are a horrible representation of what a movie about Transformers should look like.

But then again…

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A History of Rihanna’s Horrible Wardrobe Choices

There have been those who have tried, but they have all failed. None have even come close to combining the a) hotness and b) atrocious level of fashion acumen that Rihanna does on a video-by-video basis. Lady Gaga prances her tawdry vagina around town wearing a prom dress made out of polythene and lamb chops but she’s ugly so no one cares. Madonna in her prime probably came close but everyone knew that at any given time she had a Hollywood producer’s penis in her to the degree that nowadays if you try to nail her it’s like throwing a javelin down a hotel corridor. Rihanna on the other hand, is gorgeous. And terrible at fashion in a way that makes woodland animals weep.

Let’s re-live her most important wardrobe choices!

#10 – YOU DA ONE (Bowl Cut Rihanna)

The only thing worse than a chick with a bowl cut is two of them. So if you hate your penis then this video is pretty much a dream come true for you. This whole video is a god damn train wreck. I don’t think there’s any overarching plot, but then again I watched about six seconds of it, and through the cracks in the fingers that I wrapped with vice-like intensity over my face.

You know, the more I look at that picture I capped from the video, the more I think the director of this thing might have been the Antichrist.

I don’t understand it. I have to assume Rihanna chooses these outfits and so the only viable explanation is that she hates men everywhere. That or she is involved in some cosmic wager with God over how garbage she can look and still remain the universally accepted hottest chick on the planet. Because there’s just no way any working music video director was given the blank canvas of Rihanna to work on and choose to make her look like a chinese leopard as viewed on a world war one television set. It would be like finding a Michael Jordan rookie card and using it to wipe your ass.

#9 – DISTURBIA (Zombie Prison Rihanna)

If there’s a sure fire way to make sure you look like shit it is to put on a short blond wig that looks like it was made out of starched horse pubes, and a set of creamy iris-less contact lenses. The lip stick also, is terrible. And now that I look at it, the collar.

I’m not sure what the intentions for the video were here, but it basically seems to take place in some kind of dungeon where experiments are done on what exactly a human male can sit through before he is no longer able to strike a working erection. The story goes something like this: someone playing a piano, then we see a dude on steroids and then Rihanna turns around in her wig and hello adult impotence.

#8 – RUDEBOY (All The Colours of the Rainbow Rihanna)

I can take the retarded colour scheme and the legs that could choke a donkey but you lose me at full body leopard print suit straddling a lion. She does a similar thing later on sitting on a zebra. It’s not much better. In fact, it is infinitely worse.

#7 – TAKE A BOW (Too Much Make-Up Rihanna)

I feel that where the make-up people went overboard here, the song concept people sold themselves a little short.

Oh, And the award for
The best liar goes to you
For making me believe
That you could be faithful to me

There is just too much of this stuff. Look, sooner or later girls need to accept that were it not for the advent of lying and the willingness of guys to wield it, the human species would probably be like six people right now. If we told you the truth from day one you wouldn’t give us the time of day. We have to lie. And I’m sure you’re outraged by that but let’s face it: you lie too. All that fucking make-up. And the bra that taunts both biology and physics. You do not look like that. One girl I hooked up with at university when I saw her in the morning after taking off her make-up looked like a fucking hand.

#6 – UMBRELLA (Silver Rihanna)

Naked and covered in paint is, I think, a massively overrated concept. My issue basically, is, why not just naked?

“Umbrella” is pretty much Rihanna’s best song, in so far as it is tolerable and it doesn’t encourage you to hemorrhage internally like many of her others. It won Best Video at the 2007 MTV Music Video Awards. But oh yeah, that’s right, we were talking about the look.

It is tribute to how truly god awful  Rihanna has looked in some of her videos that her naked, with short hair greased to the nines, covered in silver paint in a way a chick is killed in a James Bond movie, almost scrapes its way into the top 5. Don’t be fooled, full body paint is terrible. Stop doing it.

#5 – WE FOUND LOVE (Topless in a denim jacket Rihanna)

I’ve been victim to my vices for most of my life, so this video actually, on a serious note, speaks to me. You get way too much idealized love nowadays in commercial media. I feel and have had the experiences to say with a bit of authority that the truest love involves two people who just meet and sparks fly and fuck the consequences or hell, the rest of the world. However, with that said I think I’m moving a little too close to a serious piece of writing that gives you some idea of who I really am and whatnot here so I’m gonna say Rihanna is topless and cut that shit out.

This is the video that made Ireland very happy, as she spent much of the filming running about a field completely sans tops for all and sundry to see and download to their memory for later use.

I also enjoy videos where Rihanna is all in love with dudes who look like complete and utter douche bags. I mean, in this one the guy has bleached blond hair. He’s a penchant for Ashton Kutcher movies and a popped collar away from being my least favourite person on the planet already.

#4 – PON DE REPLAY (Original Rihanna)

See, this video just annoys me now. This was her first song, first video, and I still remember when I saw it and fell in love. She looks great and no one knew who the hell she was. But now nine out of ten songs played on the radio are by her and you can sing “ella-ella-ella-ay” and an unborn baby still in the womb will know what you’re talking about. I fucking hate that.

This video has zero in the way of theme or narrative. It’s pretty much just her dancing in a club and singing the song. I don’t understand any of what’s going on here but she’s wearing pig tails and a top that reveals cleavage pirates could hide their treasure in. Big native American ear-rings say a chick is down for some experimental shit, so yeah, this look has more or less everything I’m looking for.

#3 – DON’T STOP THE MUSIC (I Dare You Not To Rape Me Rihanna)

It was the great Louis CK who once defended rape by arguing, if you don’t want to have sex with me, what else am I supposed to do? In this video Rihanna spends three minutes testing that argument by having – for once – normal person hair, and wearing a dress that gives the kind of boner a midget could do a pull-up from.

There’s not much by way of storyline in this one, as she just basically prances around a club being hotter than the god damn sun. It’s a simple black dress, and a couple of gold bangles. Coming from someone who knows less than zero about fashion, you will be happy to hear that I give my stamp of approval to this look.

#2 – SOS (Just Before I Slept With Half of Hollywood Rihanna)

Second video. Now she’s known and her videos have top tier production value. Also, green is this chick’s colour. And this is the last time any of us will see her before she officially becomes one of the biggest artists on the planet and therefore, we can safely assume, fucks like half the people in Hollywood.

How I know that green is this chick’s colour is that I’m loving how she looks even though she is wearing the one item of clothing that I hate more than anything in the world: the dreaded strapless top thing. I think we’ve adequately covered the issue with this horse shit garment and now that I’m reflecting on it, it seems Rihanna’s hotness is so great that she can overrule some terrible fashion choices. I mean the leopard print bowl cut thing is just a bridge too far, but maybe I need to change my stance on the strapless thing. If you’re so hot you can make grown men pass out, you can possibly get away with strapless tops.

#1 – WHAT’S MY NAME? (Dream Girl Rihanna)

Scientists have conducted studies and found that the hottest a girl can ever look is with red hair. They don’t know why; no one does. But you can’t argue with what has been established as scientific fact. Red hair is hot. It’s just a chance miracle of aesthetics. You put red hair on a chick who clearly was not born with it and wonderful things happen.

I don’t know which studio goombas decided Drake’s Scooby Doo face was anything other than disturbing but here he is in the video leering and sweating over Rihanna like R.Kelly at recess, nevertheless.

The storyline of this video is that Rihanna meets Drake in a convenience store and then I fall in love with Rihanna and pass out on to the floor. Somewhere around the end of the video the whole thing relocates to some kind of satanistic park techno show, where a bunch of dudes with medieval drum kits and shit play music while red mist reminds everyone that Drake is the devil.

I hope you have enjoyed this historical discourse into Rihanna and her wardrobe choices over the past 5-6 years. I personally feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders as finally, someone has done what we all have known for a while now, was really, really, really important.

Basically, the important conclusion that needs to be drawn here is that Drake is the devil.

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A Factually Accurate FAQ of Big Trouble in Little China

Is Big Trouble in Little China (hereafter BTLC) the greatest film ever made? More than likely. But don’t take my word for it. There’s a lot of bullshit in film nowadays. Sadly I live in a time now where my kids will get to be floored by Jurassic Park and then see a chick defeat Velociraptors with gymnastics in the sequel, and Vin Disel defeat physics by being more fast and more furious. Like four times in a row. So it is important I feel, that a complete and concise record is kept of a film made back when action films were great. And what better barometer is there for how great a film is, than how much Chinese black magic it contains?


When Jack Burton wins a wager against his long time friend Wang, Wang explains that he doesn’t have the cash on hand and he’ll pay Jack later because he needs to go pick up his bride-to-be at the airport. Seeing as how Jack wants his money as soon as possible, he offers to give Wang a ride to the airport. Unfortunately for the both of them (and pay attention to this part because it is dynamite) Wang’s girlfriend is kidnapped because she is a Chinese woman with green eyes, and in order for an immortal sorcerer named David Lo Pan to lift the 2000 year old curse upon him, he must marry her. Now it’s up to Jack Burton, Wang, and a plucky female lawyer to overcome Lo Pan and his three weather-controlling henchmen and save the day!

Who are the main characters?

Kurt Russell plays wise-cracking all-American hero truck Driver, Jack Burton. The greatest movie protagonist ever written. He spends his time complaining about shit on his truck radio, driving his truck, and hanging out in his truck. He doesn’t get out much. But when he does he goes to Chinatown or to the docks, where for some reason he likes to play gambling games with Chinese immigrants who speak little to no English, and are unbeatable at gambling games. He is also an idiot.

Signature quote: “Everybody relax. I’m here.”

Motivation: To get his truck back. And then later, to nail Kim Cattrall. But mostly the truck.

Past accomplishments: A lot of people my age don’t know much about Kurt Russell, save for the fact that he is responsible for bringing Kate Hudson into the world and more recently, got his ass handed to him by a team of chicks in DEATH PROOF.

Actually, let’s do this:

An Abridged Kurt Russell Filmography

Tango and Cash – Russell stars opposite Sly Stallone, as Lieutenant Gabriel Cash, pugnacious and rebellious narcotics officer with a penchant for one-liners and being awesome. He also hooks up with a pre-Desperative Housewives, pre-desperate as fuck Teri Hatcher.

Escape from LA – Here, Russell plays Snake Plissken, the only man on the planet who can save the President, after he crashes into dystopian LA, now a super max penitentiary housing the most dangerous people on the planet. All you need to know is that Russell wears an eye-patch in this one, so you know you’re pretty much guaranteed an Oscar-caliber good time.

Backdraft – Never saw this, but it appears a Baldwin brother has second billing so I’m pretty confident I didn’t miss anything.

The Thing – Russell vs. Alien. Don’t think we need to go further on this.

Stargate – I’ll be honest, don’t really remember this film at all. But I do remember there was a chick who I knew in high school who just would not ever shut up. And I told her she had a mouth like Stargate and she never spoke to me again.

Tombstone – After making a career and life out of being an awesome dude and a badass, Russell was given the role of historically awesome dude and badass; Wyatt Earp. The film traces the events leading to and occurring after the gunfight at the OK Corral. Starring opposite Russell was so awesome that Val Kilmer managed to rouse his soon-to-be-hilariously-obese corpse for one last performance of a phenomenal magnitude that pretty much ended up being the greatest work that he ever did.

Dennis Dun plays Wang Chi, a secret martial arts genius who after spending a fair amount of the film’s duration losing his shit at the mere sight of Chinese triads, by the end of the movie finds that he can backflip like a god damn Chinese acrobat on acid, and perform unbeatable martial arts like he was the secret child of Bruce Lee and Voltron.

Signature quote: “Don’t give up, Jack!”

Motivation: To save his seemingly mute girlfriend, Miao Yin from the clutches of the evil Lo Pan. And then when he realises he knows kung fu, to do lots of kung fu.

Past accomplishments: The world knows little of Dennis Dun before he showed up in BTLC. And when I say the world, I mean IMDb. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to write a good, well researched article here but if you think I’m going to do any more research into this than typing his name into Google, well you’re going to be disappointed. So…

Speculative past accomplishments: Dennis Dun studied at the Chinese University of Acting. He spent his youth working at a restaurant famed for it’s egg foo young and dim sum. Once he saved enough money to follow his dreams of acting in big Hollywood productions, he stowed away on a magical oak ship that took him to Shang Tsung’s hidden island where he would hang on, Mortal Kombat is playing on television at the moment and I’m not sure but there is a chance I may have lost my train of thought.

Kim Cattrall plays lawyer Gracie Law, who suspects something fishy is going on in Chinatown and wants to get to the bottom of it. The real conflict she faces in the film is both hiding and futilely attempting to deny her bourgeoining feelings for Jack Burton. Also, trying to pull off that horrendous cardigan.

Signature quote: “Don’t worry! It’s just me… Gracie Law!”

Motivation: To figure out what’s reeeeally going on. As I wrote earlier. I’ll be honest, I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to make this paragraph any different to that one above. Unless I just write about how I don’t know how I’m going to make it different. You can say what you want about my article choices, but I think we all have to agree I’m a god damn professional.

Past accomplishments: A lot of people forget that Cattrall was in POLICE ACADEMY. Mainly because she was utterly and completely forgettable in it. Before that she was a model. What for? I don’t know, who am I, her agent?

And James Hong plays David Lo Pan. He’s the best. But more about him later.

What is so great about BTLC?

There is nothing that BTLC does not have. There is nothing that you could want from a film upon which this movie does not deliver. It is not so much a piece of cinema as it is a piece of history. There are monsters, one-liners, kung-fu battles, gangsters, triads, 2000 year old Chinese sorcerors, dudes that control the elements with childlike recklessness, a room with hanging corpses called “The Hell of Upside Down Sinners”, magic potions, a dude called ‘Egg’, a rocket launcher, ninja stars, and a medieval hand grenade.

Is David Lo Pan the greatest movie villain of all time?

The obvious answer here is yes. Let’s look at the facts:

  1. He is Asian
  2. He, at his own discretion, is capable of transforming into an immortal seven foot tall giant that wields occult black magic like you or I would drunkenly wield a water pistol, and with the kind of accuracy a drunk shows a urinal
  3. Many thousands of years old
  4. Able to pass through walls at will
  5. Dispassionate killing machine
  6. General apathy towards everything that is not his immediate goal
  7. Head of the National Orient Bank, so obviously a baller in his free time

Of course, there’s his starring role in what is widely considered the greatest nefarious plot explanation scene in cinema history:

What happened to Kim Cattrall?

I can’t think of many instances of more heinous career decisions but they do exist. Cuba Gooding Jr won an Oscar for JERRY MAGUIRE and then played a supporting role in Oscar-winning AS GOOD AS IT GETS, and then parlayed this into starring in CHILL FACTOR opposite Skeet Ulrich. Gerard Butler made 300 and then every single fucking thing he made afterwards. So it’s not unprecedented.

However, to be totally fair to Cattrall, BTLC was a financial disaster, earning less than $11 million at the box office (against a budget of over $25 million), and causing a breakdown in director John Carpenter, who became so disillusioned with Hollywood that he considered he may never make another film again. He did of course, because the bottom line is money is money and film directors get pussy for miles. But it makes some degree of sense to understand that Cattrall figured making good movies was fools’ game. So this happened:

I’ve been having sex with various girls for a while now so I have of course seen more Sex and the City than I would have liked to. That’s just how the world works in its current iteration. It is a barter system that I think we all accept. One summer when I was single I saw 50 FIRST DATES five fucking times. So I’ve seen enough of this shit for me to feel it is well within my right to say that everything this series stands for is terrible. Everything. For a sexually active male there’s not much worse than watching three hags drag their gaping vaginas around Manhattan for forty five minutes at a time, trawling for penis and pondering the eternal philosophical enigmas of “which shoes go with that dress?” or “how can I fuck this dude on the first date without looking like a slut?”

You’ll note that I said three hags and not four. I can handle the brunette one. Charlotte? She’s ok. But the lesbian with the short hair almost single-handedly ruins the reputation of redheads the world over, Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a horse that has not aged well and by this point it is generally accepted that Kim Cattrall’s face is held together mainly by Botox, silly putty and sheer optimism.

Will there be a sequel to BTLC?

Highly and sadly unlikely. As mentioned earlier, the film was a financial disaster at release. It has since gone on to become a rightful cult classic and generally accepted masterpiece. Back in the early 90s it was mooted that a BTLC TV series would go into production and a script was actually both commissioned and written. Obviously, the same universe that showers money and hookers on mongoloid adulterers like Justin Timberlake didn’t see fit to grant a sequel or spin-off TV series to the greatest film ever made, but in hindsight it was probably for the better. There was no way an actor interested in starring in a made for TV series based on a massively unsuccessful movie from the eighties, would ever be able to do justice to the role of Jack Burton. Daniel Day Lewis couldn’t do justice to the role of Jack Burton.

If you guys have any more questions regarding BTLC and the endless string of erections you’re sure to experience in its afterglow, then please feel free to get in touch with more. Preferably about the movie, less so about the other thing.

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Let’s Get Together: A Mixtape for 2011

It’s 2012 now and so I’m being told I should do some kind of best of list to round out the year. But this blog didn’t exist last year and I don’t really care about doing what I’m told so there are two problems right away.

But I definitely am interested in writing something about last year, because that’s pretty much easy content for me to come up with and prevents me from having to some how figure out 3,000 words that I can write about Power Rangers and why if they were so intent on secrecy they dressed only in the colours of the Rangers they morphed into, and, you know, teleported en masse from the middle of the school corridor.

The best films I saw last year were WARRIOR, DRIVE and THE TREE OF LIFE. So watch those, I suppose. Or don’t; whatever. Here’s some music I really dug last year though:


Family should always come first. I did an interview recently and they asked me what the most important things I look for in a girl were. I said loyalty, strong family values and an intense hatred of Ashton Kutcher movies. And I mean that. With the new year you should all aspire to appreciate your family more. Or hate Ashton Kutcher more. The two really are interchangeable for me.


The percentage of people right now doing exactly what they wanted to be doing when they were a kid must be infinitesimal. I’m pretty happy with my life at the moment but when I was a kid I wanted to be Tyrannosaurus Rex and if that six year old could see me now sold out and working for the man he would be disgusted. Although the twenty six year old version of myself now looking back thinks what the hell was I thinking I was going to achieve with those tiny arms. Of all the dinosaurs…

I didn’t even get close to my secondary ambition of being a space pirate. Although I feel technology really let me down on that one. It’s 2012. I swear we were supposed to have laser guns and shit by now.


Did you guys all do something great last year? I did pretty much nothing of any note. I’ll try and do something this year. I doubt I will do anything though, as I am a hater and saying I’m a little lazy is like saying Wesley Snipes is a little black.


I hate ADHD. Not the clinical affliction but the way that by coming up with this term, a forthcoming generation of  kids have an excuse to be stupid and fail at school. Relating to the above point I should have made; don’t blame stuff on ADHD. If you don’t manage to achieve what you had intended to, don’t blame it on ADHD; blame it on being lazy or a shit person.

By the way, this song was the best on what was without a shadow of a doubt the best album of last year and the best Hip Hop release I can even remember.


Kids don’t impress me at all. They are inconsiderate and get the maximum amount of credit for the minimum amount of achievement. That’s not what this song is about though. I don’t know how it works for girls exactly, all I keep hearing about is a biological clock that is ticking. But for guys it’s a cyclical nightmare. You meet one girl who lights up the room and then in the space of the next couple of weeks you’ll meet like five more. You’ll fuck it up with all of them because juggling that kind of a situation is a god damn logistical disaster waiting to happen. After that you have no girls and there won’t be any for another three to four months, wherein five come along at once again.

That said I do need to start sorting my shit out because I want to have kids. How many? I have a simple equation. I’m terrible at math, but it goes something like this: if E is the number of kids I will have, then E = the number of babies my wife shoots out before I get a boy + 1.


On my birthday I got decimated on Whiskey and enthusiasm and when I disappeared into an alley in Bangsar to puke up the equivalent of a small alcoholic child some of my friends came with to make sure I was ok. I threw up all over the wall and asked one of them for a tissue. He said he didn’t have one. I said hey asshole, I need a tissue and its my birthday. He reiterated that he had no tissue. However I would not listen. So he looked around and found one. On the ground. In a puddle. In an alley. He gave it to me with his friend power and I gratefully wiped it all over my face like R.Kelly with a six year old’s panties. Appreciate your friends!


Here’s a list of the places that I fell asleep this year: my bed, my brother’s bed, my friend louis’ bed, ok beds in general, planes, my car, my dad’s car, my friend jacob’s car, ok cars in general, a metal bench outside a bar in the mother fucking English winter, the ground outside my grandmother’s house, Rootz, the living room floor, a yacht, a hotel lobby couch, a hotel room floor, a train, a tram, multiple cinemas, an alley behind Sri Hartamas.


I always used to feel like my social circle and support group of friends was as strong as its weakest link. That always seemed like a pretty sound way of looking at things. I’ve jettisoned my fair few in the interest of galvanizing things and eliminating the chance that one of my retard friends does something (typically and) monumentally stupid and causes the runoff to fall off and hit me. Or give me new and exciting stressful situations to deal with.

That said though, this year I came to the conclusion that you need some idiot friends in your life. Dumb people do dumb things almost on instinct and these dumb things result in awesome stories. One of my friends broke his wrist on St. Paddy’s day when he thought it would be a good idea after drinking all night to start dancing on a chair. Another puked on – yes, literally, puked on – a girl in a club. Now see I wouldn’t have those stories to tell you, or entertain girls I’m hitting on with, if I didn’t have those mongo friends in my social circle. In fact I’ve actually found that if you have enough stupid stories to tell, you can actually trick a girl into thinking you’re interesting, just by virtue of having a library of those acts of idiocy on hand.


Trying to think where I went last year. I was in Pangkor Laut, Bali, Thailand, Singapore a couple of times, Australia for a weekend, and then England over Christmas. One of the times I was coming back from Singapore I got stopped and detained at the border because the immigration officer did not believe that the passport I was carrying was mine. He accused the picture of having different ears and a different nose. And his way of getting to the bottom of things was to hold my ten year old passport and challenge me to name every single place that I was listed to have been to in it. When I went to Pangkor Laut I got sick on a boat and spent the weekend throwing up three times my body’s capacity. But I intend to travel more this year.

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