I’m a sucker for pale girls. Maybe it’s my Victorian nature, but the paler the skin, and the redder the hair, the more I’m a sucker for a girl. Which is why Isla Fisher is probably one of the hottest women working in Hollywood at the moment.

There’s something to be said about an attractive Australian woman. There’s something more to be said if she’s completed a stint in Clown College, can steal scenes left and right, and is simultaneously Australian and Scottish. You know what that means? She can probably out-drink you and then make you laugh until you pass out. Anybody who saw “Wedding Crashers” and didn’t walk away thinking that it was her movie was not paying attention.

In addition, she published two novels by the time she was 18. Did you hear that? She’s a hot, funny, literate redhead. And she’s been taken by Sacha Baron Cohen. But that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate her now. Isla Fisher is so cute, in fact, kittens are planning an uprising. She’s so hilarious, she once told a joke that summoned Don Rickles from a transcontinental dinner party. She’s so pale, she was cast as Edward Cullen but producers kicked her out because she could act.

Let’s look on her with the appreciation of a Victorian gentleman. Sturdy your monocles.

Am I an expert on gift-giving? Probably not. Am I an expert on women? No, not on them, behind them, or as they dangle precariously above me. This is exactly why thinking – and gifting – like me is the last thing you want this Christmas if you wanna win brownie points with your special lady. To help ensure your proper acquisition of said points, I’ve cooked up this handy list of gifts you’re better off not giving.

10. A Gift Card

Nothing says “Oh shit, I totally forgot to get you a real present!” like a gift card. Her response is likely to contain a bit more cursing.

9. Cookware

By and large, women hate gender stereotyping, and cookware and vacuum cleaners are the best way to touch this sore spot. Unless she specifically asked for new pots and pans, don’t get them, unless you really love the taste of Taco Bell.

8. Season Tickets for Your Favorite Team

You know that look women give you when you leave the toilet seat up? That look of fresh, piping-hot murder? Prepare to get that for a whole fucking year if this is your gift to her. Arguments like, “You’ll thank me when you see what Rajon Rondo can do on the court,” aren’t gonna help your case.

7. Alcohol

Just because your burnout friends were stoked about the bottles of Goldshlager (or Jaegermeister) you got for them doesn’t mean your girlfriend will respond the same way. Sure, you want her good and drunk, but you really should get that job done before she opens her gifts.

6. Twilight Calendar

There are few constants in the universe, and here’s one of them: chicks fucking love Twilight. As cheap as it is to buy a calendar, she’ll probably love it. The downside is that you’ve lost any hope of her not fantasizing about Taylor Lautner’s wolf dick when you two do the nasty.

5. Anything Originally Owned by Your Mother

You’ve grown accustomed to living in Weird-Oedipal-Creepville; good for you. However, it is a strange and frightening place for your main squeeze, and you should do everything you can to make sure she stays out of it. Giving her shit your mom used to own is pretty much a one-way ticket there.

4. Acne Cream

If you think giving your girl acne cream is a good idea, chances are you have really poor judgment. With this in mind, I’m going to state the obvious: when the inevitable argument begins, resist the urge to say, “It’s not for your face, it’s for your back.”

3. Exercise Equipment

If you’re dating a porker, it’s a bit unrealistic to think that a fucking thighmaster is going to make her more attractive to you, or that it won’t be flying at your head moments after it’s unwrapped. Do yourself a favor and buy her something she actually wants, then pretend it’s Christina Hendricks the next time your hands are on her ponderous booty.

2. A Vibrator

Buying a vibrator for a woman you have sex with is basically admitting that your dick is useless. It’s like hiring your replacement at work before giving your two-weeks notice.

1. Absolutely Nothing

So your girl said she doesn’t want to exchange gifts this year? Bullshit. This is really just woman-ese for, “I’m not buying you shit, but you damn well better get me something.” Technically, she didn’t lie, since you won’t be exchanging anything. Buy chocolates, a new pair of shoes, even a sweater for her cat: get her anything (as long as it’s not on this list). Anything! If not, enjoy your stay in the doghouse.

You guys remember one of Christina Ricci’s earliest role as Wednesday Addams in the “Addams Family Movie”? Well, I have to express my disagreement with the lyrics of the theme music, because although she may be kind of mysterious and possibly spooky, she’s definitely not creepy or altogether ooky. Somewhat ooky, sure, but not altogether. I intend to prove that although ookiness has been a key component of her appeal, that kind-of-innocent-yet-kind-of-nasty energy she has is a much bigger factor.

Luckily for us, movies like “Pecker” and ”That Darn Cat” (fuck yeah, I remember that, and so does Doug E. Doug) did not kill her career, despite the lack of any on-screen vamping or naughty bits. She continued to act, and she landed a role in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” in which she acted like a decent Christian girl until Johnny Depp got her to stumble around half-naked by giving her a ton of drugs. The message about her career was clear: she would shed her good girl image, baby fat, and clothing, if we waited long enough. Then came ”Black Snake Moan,” and if you haven’t seen it yet, use your fast forward and mute buttons liberally for a much better experience.

This is not to say that her whole career has been about getting nasty. She’s done other things like “Pumpkin” and “Penelope,” but those are mostly for your pig-nosed girlfriend who needs you to tell her she’s pretty more often than you do. And that’s my point. Her lips are just a little crooked when she smiles, her eyes are huge, and she has that medium-pitched, slightly raspy voice. All slightly off. But even so, that voice was practically made for dirty talk, the eyes to shoot you The Look, and the lips … well, just do the math, guys.

10. Flip Camera

While the idea of a pocket-size video camera is enticing, consider the following questions: Does your gift recipient have an iPhone? A digital camera that shoots video? Anything in their lives worth recording? If the answer to any of these is yes, then a Flip is little more than a fancy paperweight. If the answer is no, then chances are they’ll end up using it as a fancy paperweight.

9. Nintendo Wii

Unless the person getting the gift is an 8-year-old living in his mother’s home or an 80-year-old living in a nursing home, chances are the Xbox 360 or PlayStation 3 he already owns has the gaming angle all wrapped up.

8. Apple TV

You know what’s awesome about Apple TV? Nothing. There are cheaper set-top boxes that stream video into your living room, not the least of which is the one provided by your cable company, which is free with your cable subscription and is porn-enabled in most cases (call your cable provider to order these movies).

7. Mintpass Cube

A couple of years ago, the question was “who doesn’t want an MP3 player?” Now, it’s “who doesn’t own an mp3 player?” I mean, get serious, Mintpass: everything has MP3 functionality built in these days, including stupid shit like baseball caps and eyeglasses, for fucks sake. Making it cube-shaped is not helping your case either.

6. Amazon Kindle

Maybe you own a Kindle and maybe you love it. Congratulations: your early adopter cred is worth so much more than having a color screen like the new Barnes and Noble Nook has, or the ability to read PDFs you stole using Pirate Bay like the Sony E-reader has. Try not to spread your coolness to your friends and family, though.

5. PSP Go

They don’t play UMD discs, only downloaded games. There’s no benefit to the user, but it really helps Sony curb the piracy running rampant in the PSP scene. I’ve been wondering for some time about the handful of suckers who bought one of these. I’m thinking that a lack of iron in their diets is what contributed to the lack of judgment it took to buy an inferior version of a device that’s been on the market for years. Then again, I don’t know. Could be potassium. I’m not a doctor.

4. TwitterPeek

The world’s first dedicated Twitter device! It lets you check your Twitter account on the go! No more will you have to go to the anxiety of using Twitter without paying for a service plan! According to a TwitterPeek spokesperson, “Our device is better than Tweeting from your smartphone because … um … next question?” If you do end up buying one of these for your mom, though, I’m sure her seven followers will appreciate it.

3. Twoddler

The Twoddler is made of 100% pure OMFG: it’s a Fisher Price busy box that has been modified to post pre-programmed tweets when the toddler playing with it and hits certain buttons. Some of these include “[child's Twitter handle] is showing off his music skills with a new tune” and “@mommy [child's Twitter handle] misses mommy and looks forward playing with her this evening.” They forgot to include, however, “[child's Twitter handle] has a pair of retarded assclowns for parents.”

2. Print Your Toast

This is kind of a cheater entry since it’s nowhere near market yet, but come on: it’s a toaster that spits out your toast like a printer. It doesn’t actually print using butter or jam for ink, nor does it burn images onto your toast. It just looks like a fucking printer. Dear Germans who designed this: call me when you can actually help me make a Janine Habeck-shaped breakfast. Or if it’s for your grandma, a Sal Mineo-shaped breakfast.

1. JooJoo

Perhaps you’ve been following the story of the Joojoo. A web-enabled touchpad for $200 was a great idea when Mike Arrington initially proposed it, but somewhere along the line, they decided to change its name from the badass Crunchpad to Joojoo, which sounds like groupthink from a consortium of Web 2.0’s laziest pikers. It doesn’t do apps and it doesn’t have an open-source operating system, but it does have a much heftier price tag, currently sitting at $400. If you’re considering buying one for yourself or a loved one, do the world a favor and find a shady doctor to sell you a big bag of Propofol instead.

There’s some good news and some bad news, though. First the bad news: although the site requires users to enter their birth dates to lock out the curious kiddies, the burger babe doesn’t get naked. Instead, she showers in a bikini. The good news, especially if you’re a sick fuck like me, is that you get to vote on the song she sings (my vote is for the mute button) and what bikini she wears. Your choices are a bikini top that resembles two burgers, one that looks like two fried eggs, and two other less delicious choices. Kind of reminds me of the arcade classic Burger Time.

But as if that weren’t enough, Burger King is sweetening the deal by pimping one of these chicks out to its greasy customers:

One seriously lucky person will get to share a couple of Breakfast Big Fillers and pancakes with our sizzling shower babe in the London Leicester Square Burger King restaurant – you never know, it just might be the start of something beautiful (and she might even sing for you)!

Because as we all know, there’s nothing super-hot babes find more attractive than overweight contest winners jamming fries into their snackholes by the fistful. Nonetheless, I’m holding out hope that burger-tits catch on domestically. Then again, if they find a way to shoehorn that creepy plastic-headed king into the mix, count me out.

Either way, check out the “Singing in the Shower” site, which, one way or another, will make you salivate.

I know what you’re thinking: what the fuck is Zune Video? I agree, so let’s move on to the stuff that matters. There’s been a lot of noise about the addition of Twitter to your Xbox’s list of superpowers, but it’s really not that much of a value add. You have to leave any game you’re playing to update your status, and if you’re one of the people who would want to do that, chances are you already own a smart phone that would allow you to hastily misspell your way through an invitation to your friends to play COD:MW2 without having to leave the Russian parts. Unless of course you’re Russian and your government forced you to, but that’s another story.

The Facebook addition seems most valuable, since it suggests Xbox Live friends based on your list of Facebook friends. If social networking isn’t your bag, just listen to some tunes or watch some music videos. All in all, the update brings more uses to the already Swiss Army Knife-like nature your Xbox 360. I’m actually getting a little scared by it; if they figure out a way to make it kiss me and stroke my … um … ego, I’m pretty sure I would lose my job and die of starvation in my living room.

On the serious tip, get the full skinny about the new Facebook functionality at Xbox Live’s Official Site.

However, if you have gotten this far into the text, then surely, you are either not attracted to women, or some form of literate non-human entity that I have yet to encounter. Possibly you are some form of vegetable that gained sentience, or Lieutenant Commander Data from Star Trek.

I have so many questions for those of you who fall into this category. Mainly, what’s it like to look at Marisa Miller and have no sexual feelings at all? What, for fuck’s sake? I am seriously, earnestly asking, because it simply does not compute in my non-robotic, non-vegetable mind. Her body is literally perfect. And it’s not just that; the shape of her mouth is so damn sexy, especially in that teasing half-smile found in so many of her photos.

To me, the notion of not being turned on by her is kind of a newer, better version of the old Zen meditative riddle about a tree: If you met Marisa Miller and she failed to give you wood and no one was around, would you make a sound? I don’t think that would be possible for me, but if I did happen to encounter her, I know that I would try my best to get a solid mental picture, then find a private place and make the sound of one hand clapping.

You incredible bastards. Selling Snuggies and your music in a bundle? Truly, this is an unholy union.

Let me display some precognition of my own and deflect your critiques preemptively: I like Weezer. I like that they have been the standard-bearers of geek pride since your comic books were worth something. I like their music, and I’m totally going to steal their album on PirateBay buy their new album Raditude from a legitimate vendor as soon as I get the chance. But the Snuggie was woven into existence by Satan himself (and probably mass-produced with the aid of a few sweatshop workers). You can’t piss standing up in the damn thing and, frankly, man was not meant to be that fucking comfortable all the time.

If you care about the welfare of humanity, then join with me, the reanimated mummy of Samuel Morse, and my coalition of nerd loyalists who still rely on long johns and band t-shirts to keep our bony asses warm.

On the other hand, it’s Halloween. You can be a shiftless do-nothing the other 364 days of the year; today, you can be a party-crashin’, hottie-mackin’ Pimpbot 5000 if you so wish. Don’t wait for an invite, just throw together these low-energy, low-budget costumes and get thee to a party.

1. Ghost of a Roman citizen

Lots of people have used sheets as their Halloween costumes, either to go as ghosts or as toga-clad Romans. But think about it: all the Romans are dead. Just layer one sheet on top of the other to form the thinking man’s costume.

2. Adult Baby

Strip down to your tighty whiteys, slap on a bib from the local lobster joint, and hit the town. This is one of the few costumes where your obesity works in your favor. If you are able, find a large rubber nipple and attach it to your beer can for bonus points.

3. Tenacious D member

Dude, I know you own at least one Guitar Hero or Rock Band controller. Strap that badboy to your back, whip off your shirt, and tell them you are one of the members of Tenacious D (pick according to how much hair you have).

4. Michael Phelps

Again this involves stripping down to your skivvies, but it might help if you have a swimmers cap and goggles handy. If you add a bong as your third accessory people will gravitate toward you whether they understand your costume or not.

5. Santa Claus

Look, it’s a fucking costume, okay? Just because it’s used on different a holiday doesn’t mean it can’t double as a Halloween costume too. Besides, these are tough times, and your party hosts may even admire your frugality.

6. Hurley from Lost

This one is easy. Just get a wig (a mop might do in a pinch) and rub dirt all over your clothes and face. If you’re fat, unkempt or slovenly, part of the work is already done.

7. Authentic zombie

I know what you’re thinking… this could involve some careful application of fake blood and injuries, which could cost a lot of money if you want it to look real. But you know what looks more real than the best fake blood and wounds? Real blood and wounds. Simply kick your own ass a la Fight Club then ease the pain with some of your roommate’s expired Vicodin. You’ll be shambling around and moaning with the best of them.

8. A Spartan from 300

This is probably the most expensive and tedious costume on the list. You’ll need a pair of sandals, a red sheet to use as a cape, and a black Sharpie to draw six pack abs on your bountiful kegger of a belly. Use a pot lid as your shield and yell absolutely everything you say.

9. Mexican wrestler

Yet again, your BVDs and excessive girth will make up the majority of this costume. Strip down to your shorts, strap on a pair of boots, take another pair of undies and use them as a mask, then tell everyone you are “El Skidmarko.”

10. The sampler

Look around your apartment/house/mother’s basement that doubles as your bedroom: You are sure to find at least one hat, maybe some rain boots, possibly a greasy bathrobe, and if you’re really lucky, some sort of gorilla mask. Just throw them all together and tell everyone you’re the monster from an upcoming movie (and don’t forget to tell them Sam Raimi is attached to direct). Don’t worry, about an hour into your party everyone will be too shitfaced to know the difference.

Two janitors from New York are currently being charged with a number of crimes ranging from intent to sell drugs to grand larceny. Why? Because they created a secret man cave at their place of employment.
In this grown man’s version of The Secret Garden, the two custodians converted a storage area in a parking garage into a little private wonderland where they would take naps, watch tv, and spark up the occasional tower for fun and profit. This went on until recently, when the cops very uncoolly broke up their party and arrested them.

I ask, what was their crime (other than violating U.S. law and shirking their duties)? Just so we’re clear, they were selling marijuana from their little home away from home, but I submit to you: what man on earth doesn’t dream of a secret room where he can watch porn and fart at will? And occasionally move a couple of O-Zs?
For now, the two janitors have been suspended from their jobs without pay, and one of them is out of jail on $5,000 bail. I feel sorry for the poor bastard. Not because he’s facing some fairly serious criminal charges, but because he has to go back to his crappy house containing his wife (who is probably more than a little pissed off), kids, and no 12-foot bong nicknamed “Big Punisher.”
Ah well. Goodnight, you princes of laziness, you kings of reefer.

There may be no “I” in team, but apparently in Bosnia-Herzegovina, this means a lot more than not hogging the ball.

Miroslav Ciro Blazevic, the coach of the national Soccer team, has come up with a somewhat unorthodox way to motivate his squad. “I take two of my players and tell them, ‘Love him! Kiss him!’ and he kisses him.”

You read that right: he makes them kiss each other on their sweaty man-mouths. Before I start to come across as something of a homophobe, I’d like to mention that all this stubbly Frenching is not a problem for me, just kind of unusual on a sports field. Then again, this is Europe we’re talking about. Take that, casual and totally hetero pat on the ass.

Nevertheless, the players don’t seem to be putting up much of fight against Blazevic’s motivational tactics, and what’s more, they’re doing better than they ever have before, with a real shot at the World Cup. Without speculating about the reason for the technique’s success, the coach might want to consider turning up the heat as they continue to advance. I’m just throwing out ideas here, but maybe he could have his players run their fingers through each other’s hair when they score penalty kicks and encourage locker-room shockers after victories. Goal!

Few actresses make me feel more like a creepy uncle than Anna Paquin. She hit the scene in 1993 as a bright-eyed, precocious little girl in Jane Campion’s otherwise lurid and droning film The Piano, eliciting many a surprised gasp when she took the Oscar for her performance.

She made a cautious path through her early teens as a low-key child star, appearing in very few movies. Then suddenly, she appeared in X-men as the untouchable mutant called Rogue with a shock of white hair and a tight black leather bodysuit that dared you to touch it. The suit, I mean… which you couldn’t because of her superpowers… not, you know, IT.

In any case, it was the perfect part for her. Not yet a woman and unable to touch another person for fear of the consequences, it was a great metaphoric device for a young actress whose sexuality was beginning to bloom but could not be put on full display due to her age.

That wasn’t really much of a concern by the time she started appearing as the main character of the HBO series True Blood, Sookie Stackhouse. Although the name sounds more fitting to a piece of tail turning tricks at an Atlanta bus station than a waitress, Anna plays a (mostly) good girl with a taste for vampire… um, blood.

If you don’t already watch the show, by the way, it’s a pretty reliable source for mid-budget monster shenanigans that are only slightly less campy than the 1987 classic, The Monster Squad, and also some cheap nudity here and there. Of course, I’m not talking about the sex scenes with Anna and real-life fiance Stephen Moyer (who plays vampire Bill Compton on the show), which are anything but cheap. In fact, they’re probably the only kind of smut where a lot of biting is actually a good thing.

Whether you’re a fan of solid acting performances or just enjoy watching a beautiful woman who is perpetually in distress, it may be worth tuning to get your creepy-uncle-on.

Marciano vs Walcott

Rocky Marciano and Jersey Joe Walcott squared off in 1952 over the Heavyweight title, which Walcott was holding when he climbed into the ring. After round 13, he was lucky to have his teeth, because Marciano took the title from him that day along with his lunch money. And Marciano never gave it up to anyone afterward, being the only heavyweight boxing champion to go an entire career undefeated. Notice the way he lays the last hit in just as he walks off like it’s nothing. He was like that.

Foreman vs Ali

1974. Kinshasa, Zaire. The Rumble in the Jungle was a fight to remember. Broadcast to a worldwide audience, George Foreman and Muhammad Ali  squared off in a clash of the titans. Then-Heavyweight Champion Foreman was expected to win the bout, being younger and at the top of his game, making Ali the underdog despite his former World Champion title. After a grueling bilateral beatdown, Ali toppled Foreman in the eight round of what would become one of the most memorable fights of all time.

Tyson vs Spinks

91 seconds is all it took for the pitbull “Iron” Mike Tyson to demolish Leon Spinks in this 1988 match. The one-punch KO ended the fight before the first round had a chance to spin up. Spinks climbed into the ring with a perfect 31-0 record, and it only took him 1 minute 31 seconds to lose it. When’s the last time you heard the name ‘Spinks’? That’s right, basically after this fight, never.

Hagler vs Hearns

1985: “Marvelous” Marvin Hagler spent five years as the undisputed Middleweight Champion when Thomas Hearns came along to challenge him. The first round of the fight is often called the most brutal and best round of fighting in boxing history. But,  it was round three that brought the show. Hearns seemed to be having a bit too much fun and even got a little full of himself, when Hagler catches him by surprise. He then tries to get some distance to get his bearing. Hagler actually runs to chase him before laying him out with that final vicious right.

Marciano vs Louis

This is awesome, there just isn’t any other word for the way Joe Louis crumples when Rocky Marciano knocks the snot out of him with that one final blow in this Madison Square Garden classic from March, 1951. Louis weighed nearly a full 30 lbs more than Marciano at weigh-in, and instead of getting pummeled by the larger fighter, Marciano used to it his advantage. That sneak attack would cause old men to bicker for years afterward.

Foreman vs Frazier

George Foreman knocked down Joe Frazier six times in two rounds during this 1973 beatdown. Foreman was the challenger to Frazier’s Heavyweight Champion title. Six times that man got blinked out, and he kept getting back up. Finally the ref got worried, and since he had no intention of finding out how many times a man could be consecutively knocked into microsleeps, he called TKO.

Ali vs Williams

In 1966 Cleveland Williams came at Muhammad Ali. Ali handled him like a cat plays with a half-crippled mouse that stole from him. He went on to calmly and methodically finished Williams in round three. Interestingly, Mike Tyson said this was his favorite Ali match.

Robinson vs Fullmer

Sugar Ray Robinson and Gene Fullmer had a grudge to settle, and their grudge-match was stamped into history when they went the full fifteen rounds. In that final round, Robinson would eventually land the blow that sent Fullmer to the pad. Note: this was their third fight, so the fact that they both went the distance (effecitively) was a testament to the pride and enurance of both men who were determined to win this bout.

Jackson vs Norris

This is almost too painful to watch, almost. Julian Jackson, well known for his one-punch knockout power, proved his badassery with this ridiculous display when he destroyed Terry Norris at the ropes in just the second round of the fight.

Tyson vs Douglas

Tokyo was attacked in 1990 by two fighting monsters that came from America, not space. They were the Heavyweight Champion Mike Tyson and his challenger, James “Buster” Douglas. Tyson, known for his ego, had nearly won the fight in round 8 when he knocked the Buster down. Come Round 10, Douglas came back with a vengeance. “Iron” Mike then got his ass handed to him in this epic battle of humility.

So you’ve seen the knockouts, now who was the best fighter of all time?….

Dear Jesus,

You have blessed us with great abundance, and we thank you. Moreover we thank you for those of us who have been blessed with a greater level of physical abundance, and especially for those who ride scooters. If this was Allah or Buddha’s idea, please pass along our gratitude.

Ok, enough of the sacrilegious poop, let’s get down to bidness. We don’t mean to make light of – oh crap, starting over. We don’t mean to make fun of morbid obesity. It’s a serious problem.

*serious face*

No, our chunky brothers and sisters face unique challenges, and we sympathize with their plight even as we honor their right to eat 100 tacos. However, even as the obesity problem grows in America, we at Manolith see a silver lining: more fat guys are riding scooters.

I know, I know; you’re wondering how I can think that that’s a good thing. I’ll tell you. Scooters are cute and kind of wimpy, not funny unto themselves, but ripe for use as a reagent for hilarity. Fat guys have funny in their DNA. You put the two together, and the contrast creates an explosion of comedy gold. It’s damn near impossible not to chuckle at the very least, unless you’re a joyless dick that is. It’s basic chemistry, people.

So maybe you are, in fact, a comedy curmudgeon and think it’s immature to laugh at a fat guy on scooter. But have you seen one lately? They’re fucking hilarious and inspiring at the same time. No car? No problem. No desire to walk? No problem. No more jumbo bags of Funyuns? Problem, and one that can only be solved by hopping on a comically undersized vehicle and zipping down to the 7-11. That’s grit. That’s a man’s man, despite what the pitiful sound coming out of his scooter will lead you to think.

Of course, it’s far more common to see an obese person riding one of those little Hoveround carts. These are not funny. These are still depressing and rude to stare at, and we need to make that very clear. To anyone who has lost mobility because of obesity, we wish you the best of health and a speedy recovery. We are even less interested in large people on Segways, or anyone on Segways, for that matter. You’re still a huge douche, but it’s not funny. But to fat guys who ride scooters, what can we say? I mean, why ride a vehicle that weighs less than you? Wouldn’t you want more wheels instead of less? Don’t take our questions as a challenge to your lifestyle choice; as far as we’re concerned, you can do no wrong. Having said that, though, it wouldn’t hurt if you put on a cowboy hat and rode in tandem with another large fellow dressed identically. Any way you slice it, though, (and we think you’re partial to thick slices), keep on scootin’, you magnificent bastards.

At the risk of having some drunk meathead shout me down at a bar (spraying flecks of beer-soaked buffalo wing at my face in the process), I’ll admit that I find football boring as hell. A bunch of dudes in tights playing a big game of grabass… it would actually be a little gay if not for the cheerleaders. But oh, the cheerleaders! There’s something I can get behind.

This is especially true if we’re talking about one very special cheerleader, Lyla Garrity on NBC’s football drama, Friday Night Lights, deliciously portrayed by Minka Kelly. Yes, I already said I’m bored by football, but that doesn’t matter. Have you seen Minka Kelly? Like, in her cheerleading outfit? Leading cheers? Dude, let’s just say it fills me with school spirit. Besides, there’s not that much football in it, and anyway, that’s what TiVo is for.

On the show, Minka’s character is ostracized and treated like a slut for cheating on her paraplegic boyfriend with his best friend. I would never do that, Minka. I would be tender and inviting, singing you sweeter songs than John Mayer ever could, holding you more tightly than Derek Jeter can hold you. Then you could practice your cheerleading routine, and I would most certainly give you a D with gusto.

Look! Up in the, um, rafters! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s a bare-assed Bruno performing the ol’ Deus Ex Teabag on a very angry-looking Eminem. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, chances are you missed the MTV Video Music Awards last night.

The whole night was your typical MTV affair with a bunch of bad jokes and dolled-up celebs hamming it up for your amusement (hosted by Andy Samberg!). For the most part it was as forgettable as it is every year, except for the part where an apparition from the heavens named Bruno flapped his butt cheeks down onto Eminem’s chin region, inciting the ire of the rapper’s bodyguards and the chortles of tweens and stoners nationwide.

So here’s the burning question: was Slim Shady really that mad? He stormed out of his seat with his bodyguards in tow after the ass cheek ambush, looking a little sorry his new softer image doesn’t allow him to cap a motherfucker on the spot. Even so you have to remember who Bruno is; he’s another character created and played by Sacha Baron Cohen, the actor/comedian behind Borat and Ali G. People believed initially that the scene in the Borat movie where he kidnaps Pamela Anderson was real, but it was later revealed that she was in on the gag. Could the same be said about the 2009 VMAs? I mean, Eminem is a good actor. I really believed that he didn’t want to vomit in that scene in 8 Milewhere he diddled a cracked-out Britney Murphy on an industrial lathe (or whatever).

The point is that he may have been in on it, he may not have been, but still… wow. Are his bodyguards also great actors? What was his initial reaction when a hapless MTV producer told him “yeah, then he drops from the ceiling and deposits his nutsack in the crook of your neck”? These questions only lead to more questions, like a fucking episode of Lost. So what do you think? Stupid publicity stunt or genuine pube-icity stunt?

You can keep your Kate Beckinsales, and I want no part of your Keira Knightleys: the only cute-as-a-button British actress for me is Rachel Weisz. Okay, maybe I was being hasty. I’ll have a small slice of the first two, but where it comes to Rachel Weisz, I’ll take the whole fucking pie. With whipped cream. Metaphorically. 

I can’t imagine what grounds you would have to objecting to her induction to the Chickolith pantheon, but if you do, I challenge you to watch that scantily-clad knife fight from The Mummy Returns and not go at least half-mast. I challenge you! Rachel is one of those girls who hasn’t quite broken through to the A-list despite the fact that you’ve seen in a million high profile or big budget movies. You know, movies like Constanine, Confidence, Fred Claus, Eragon… ok, her filmography is not the point. The point is she’s adorable and has bold but appealing eyebrows, sometimes strong and sometimes vulnerable lips, and a terrific body, okay? And she won and Oscar or whatever once, I guess.

So while you’re out watching Angels & Demons or Star Trek for the sixth time or Old The Legend of Zelda cartoons streamed on Netflix over a bowl of cereal you keep refilling, I will be watching Rachel’s latest film, The Brothers Bloom. I won’t be watching it for the plot or the tour-de-force performances, I’ll be collecting clues that will aid me in stealing her from Darren Aronofsky. Oh, and if you’re reading this, Rachel, I’ve got the ReddiWhip if you’ve got your costume from The Mummy Returns that is so very reminiscent of the Slave Leia costume. Or even if you don’t.

I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. FACT: The dead will rise one day from their graves and kill the ones they once loved. FACT: The machines will one day gain sentience and band together to eradicate the inferior life form that engendered them. This much is fact. The only question is when, and which one will beat the other to the punch. *Serious Face*

Don’t believe me? The evidence is already starting to pile up. Take for example the upcoming film, Terminator: Salvation. While the film itself is the lovechild of James Cameron’s lust for money and your willingness to give it to him, the PC game based on the film was a valuable simulation tool to prepare you for the impending robot rebellion. Several chagrined buyers quickly learned that their copies of the game would not install properly, due to an unspecified replication issue with the discs. Publisher Evolved Games is rushing to recall and replace the defective discs, but the message sent by their current robo-minions (and future robo-masters) is clear: don’t fuck with us. As if that weren’t enough evidence, around 12,000 semi-autonomous robots are already being used in Iraq. A recent incident in South Africa resulted in the death of 9 soldiers; during a training exercise, a robot with a high-caliber gun “glitched” and killed and maimed a total of 25 soldiers.

Of course, it is not likely that the machines will gain self-awareness without having more complete AI’s than they do now. Zombies, on the other hand, don’t need self-awareness. Those bastards don’t even need oxygen. Now, whether they’ll snack on your brain only or scarf on any part of you they can get their muck-crusted claws on is anybody’s guess, but one thing is clear: their inevitable rise is already beginning in lower forms of life. Consider the zombie fire ant: National Geographic recently reported that a certain type of South American Fly (here we go) lays its eggs in the heads of fire ants (wait for it), which hatch, eat the brains of the ants, and control it for awhile, in effect making it a zombie (thank you and good night). If zombie ants aren’t enough to make you soil your khakis, then read this quote from California farmer Jim Stauffer, which is totally not taken out of context: “We called them zombie chickens. Some of them crawled right up out of the ground. They’d get out and stagger around.” Fucking zombie chickens, yo. Think about it.

So the good news is that neither of these is likely to happen in the next few years, and there is an off chance they’ll rise at the same time and fight each other. Still, when the shit hits the fan zombie or robo-style- and it will- you’re going to thank me for warning you ahead of time. I’m here to help, just don’t go trying to steal my supply of water, guns and found Chocodiles in the aftermath, lest you catch a regular ol’ human-dispensed beatdown.

Look, it’s not that your collection of Anime PVC figures or promotional mesh cap from X-Men Origins: Wolverine aren’t making a huge impression on everyone; they are. Very much so. Though it may not be the impression you want to be making, at least one guy is still going to like you, if the lyrics of his music are to be believed. I’m speaking of Calvin Harris, the Scottish producer/singer/songwriter who doesn’t “care what you dress like or what you wear.”

Don’t know Calvin? You probably do. If you own a TV and watch it on a semi-regular basis, you’ve probably seen a commercial for the Kia Soul with a few ultra-hip mice (who themselves are cooler than you) driving the car and bouncing to a highly danceable electroclash jam. Yep, that song is “Coulours” off of Harris’ first album from 2007, I Created Disco. The album is saturated with pitch-perfect minimal grooves and an effortless and somewhat literal dedication to fun. You can hear what I’m talking about in songs like “Merrymaking at My Place,” which celebrates the fact that he and his friends are merrymaking and drug-taking at his place. I’m just gonna say it: Calvin is one of the only reasons to keep a MySpace account open.

If you still don’t know who he is, you would do well in putting something other than Nickelback and Taylor Swift in your spinner; aside from his own music, Harris has worked with such artists as Kylie Minough, Brit rapper Dizzee Rascal, and Brit pop star Sophie Ellis-Bextor. If you’re thinking those people aren’t famous enough to register a blip on your radar, keep in mind that at one point Harris turned down the opportunity to work with Lady Gaga because he didn’t like her music but didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying so. I for one must give him his due kudos: great instincts and manners, dude.

Maybe you haven’t heard of Harris, but that may not last much longer. Slated to release a new album later this year, Harris is promoting the first single “I’m not Alone” by touring Europe after an ill-fated attempt to tour the U.S. and Canada. His music probably won’t be playing on your local radio station by the time he’s done touring, but I don’t believe for one second that an audiophile of your magnitude (read: web surfing music geek) can’t find him on Pandora.

(Photos By: Émilie Bourquin and Nicolas Keshvary)

Looking for a way to spend between 1 and 5 dollars on software that is only marginally useful or entertaining? There’s an app for that. Want to look like a jackass in public as you squint and tap at your touchscreen? There’s an app for that. Want to engage in a little playful sacrilege? There’s an app- no, wait, there isn’t an app for that. 

Why the Hell not, you ask? Well, that’s because Apple, the uber user-friendly computer company responsible for the ubiquitous iPhone, opted to reject an application called Me So Holy from the App Store, deeming it offensive content. The purpose of the app is rather sterile: it is an image editing program that allows users to superimpose their faces onto the bodies of famous religious figures, including Jesus Christ.

While it seems to us that the joke would wear thin after just a few uses, the decision seems somewhat conservative for a company that only a few years ago encouraged us to “Think Different.” Me So Holy’s developer, Ben Khale certainly seems to agree with us: “Our question is, is religion really to be placed in the same category as these violent apps? Sex, urine, and defecation don’t seem to be off-limits, yet a totally non-violent, religion-based app is.” 

While we can see where people might be offended by the lighthearted treatment of holy figures, we also know that the App Store once sold an app called Babyshaker, and at this moment, the #9 most popular app is called Pee Monkey Toilet Trainer. What’s more,  jokes about God’s only begotten son are fucking hilarious and fit for the iPhone’s target demographic, as Family Guy and South Park have shown us. So what now, Cupertino? If we can’t have faith in the JesusPhone, what are we supposed to have faith in? Jesus? Forget it; that guy’s not half as handsome as I am.

Check out the official site for more info at http://mesoholy.com/.

In an effort to reduce costs and increase use of available technologies, The US Postal Service has announced that many of their current services will be replaced by the microblogging service Twitter. In a press conference held by Postmaster General John Potter, some of the upcoming procedural changes were described. 

“Starting next month, frivolous or conversational mail will no longer be delivered. Instead, it will be opened and read by our staff and sent to the recipient via Twitter direct message. If letters or parcels contain any goods or items, photographs of said items will be displayed on the USPS Posterous and the url DMed to the recipient. We realize that not everyone has a Twitter account yet or knows what it is. To facilitate the transition, we encourage members of the public who are already using Twitter to talk about it like it’s the greatest thing ever, and shame anyone not using it with condescending pity.We suggest ‘Oh, you’re not using Twitter yet? Really? That’s a shame.’

“Though our method of delivery will change, we will continue to employ all of our letter carriers. Instead of bringing you physical mail, though, they will now simply knock on you door to remind you that you have some tweets you haven’t read yet. We hope these changes will help us better serve you in your moments of drunken boasting, discussing how much your life sucks or doesn’t suck, and speculating which celebrities are gay.”

Along with Potter’s press conference, the USPS released a pamphlet about the upcoming changes. Much of the money saved on shipping costs will be spent ensuring that Twitter has greater reliability. Their goal for the first year of service is 98.1% uptime.

Twitter founder Evan Williams had this to say:

I think we’ve all been in this position: you’re at a bar having a great time, then some clumsy asshole spills beer all over you. In that situation, we all think the same thing:  if  I had a sword hidden inside my belt, the only thing spilled would be this jerk’s blood! And also some more beer! Sadly, hiding a sword within a belt is nothing but science fiction… or is it?

My friends, the days of plotting your eventual revenge are over. Free your murderous rage with the Beltsword system, which boasts it is “the World’s First Weapon System that can totally hide and conceal a massive 1½ inch-wide by 33 inch-long (sword) RazorSword.”  A series of links within the belt house the bendable sword, allowing it to whip out at great speeds using its own springiness. This revolutionary system is the latest in both pants-holding-up technology and the art of cuttin’ down motherfuckers. Great for hand-me-down pants from your older fatter brother or  for sudden ninja attacks.

While I feel that HSN would probably have done a superb job marketing this shanker, I appreciate the manufacturer’s choice to recruit a local stripper, dress her in nothing but a Beltsword and some hair extensions that totally match her hair color, and have her demonstrate the sword in action. Careful with that thing, honey: it wouldn’t be the first time a sex-worker killed someone with a belt by mistake, but it would be the first time a lemon wedge wouldn’t have prevented the accident. If naked chicks don’t  float your boat, you can also see a middle-aged dude who looks like Lost’s John Locke, a grandmother, and an angry-looking college coed whip it out and leer menacingly at you.

The Beltsword is the brainchild of Curtis W. Koehler, who feels the need to tell us he was born and still lives in Wisconsin. There, he learned to harness the miracle science into a sword that he could wear around his waist. But what good is a clothing item/instrument of death without accessories? The site also sells a sticky paste that you spray on your sword’s handle to keep from dropping the sword.  You got your sword, you got your hand paste… now if they could only get Vince Offer to start selling these badboys, I’m pretty sure they’d have a goldmine on their hands.

If you wander over to www.wonder-who.com, you’ll see what could be the greatest nerdgasm of all time: Megan Fox in a Wonder Woman outfit. No, you’re not dreaming, just living in the glorious age of Photoshop.

A few months ago, though, this project had the Internet abuzz with the promise (albeit an untrue one) of a new Wonder Woman movie starring super-sexpot Megan Fox. The guy who designed this, a graphic artist who simply credits himself as “John,” released new images and information in a slow trickle, successfully creating anticipation and fooling fans into frothing at the mouth over the prospect of a Fox super-heroine.

In retrospect, the lie is somewhat obvious (IMDB, anyone?). Still you can’t blame believers for having a bout of wishful thinking. Fact: Wonder woman gave you your first boner, or at least a very early one. Fact: Megan Fox gave you your most recent boner, or at least a very recent one. What this Photoshop ruse represents is a glorious ideal, a beacon that transcends time and shines a light across the ages of bonerdom. As to John’s stated purpose, he wanted to get the real Wonder Woman movie out of “Development Hell.” As you may know, there is a Wonder Woman film in the works, but for now it appears that there is still a great deal of licensing red tape to cut through. For those with short memories, Watchmen is another film that spent it’s time in this kind of limbo, taking more than 15 years and several rewrites to see the light of day. If it can be used as any indication, then the Wonder Woman movie won’t be ready until Megan Fox is approaching 40 with six kids in tow.

So to John and all the other dreamers, we give kudos. Kudos for your skills. Kudos for your crusading spirit. Most of all, kudos for harnessing those deep-seated obsessions and creating something we can all enjoy. Go away now, I’m going to “enjoy” John’s work.

If you’re anything like me, you were spending a good deal of time during penis-heavy moments looking at his decidedly black eyebrows, wondering where the hell a merciful covering of black pubes could be found. But there were none, and we were left to gaze at the puzzlingly high level of detail in the cock-and-balls CG.

For those of you wondering why that cerulean nutsack was brought to you in such high detail and frequent presentation, remember: this is a movie based on one of the most sacred books in all of comicdom. Zack Snyder, the director of the film, stated that he and his crew viewed the comic almost as a priest would regard holy scripture, a statement no doubt designed to placate the rabid fanboys who would be ready to destroy him if he put a foot wrong. Or a penis.  Dr. Manhattan’s member did appear in the comic, but not quite as frequently or with such gusto as it did in the film. So what’s your game, Snyder?

My theory is simple: The filmmakers wanted to create a film that didn’t flinch at the comic’s more difficult, less appealing aspects. They wanted fans to know that they weren’t backing away from details that made the telling of the tale unfomfortable. It is an admirable attitude, but one that ultimately lead them astray. The film obsesses over various details found in the book, but generally fails to convey the sense of impending doom of Cold War nuclear Armageddon, or the urgency of Rorschach’s mission to find the killer and set things right. Instead, sex and violence are thrown in our faces like a badge of the film’s authenticity, forcing a disappointed sigh from a crowd eager to love this film. It’s a shame, really, but not something we’re not used to: for all our enthusiasm, for all the promise, the only thing we’re left with is blue balls.

But those days of carefree reverie are over. As Star Magazine reports, the couple have been having regular post-breakup “sexy sleepovers.” There’s no need to patronize us with your euphemisms, Star. We know what that means. We know he’s been putting his sweaty meathooks all over her… special areas. Of course, this doesn’t mean the engagement is back on, necessarily, but come on. He’s on Terminator: The Sara Connor Chronicles, and she’s in the Transformer films. They share a bond of murderous rage against evil robots. I only have a strong distaste for them, so I really can’t compete with that.

And then yesterday Fox and Green were photographed shopping together. Oh, Megan. I would have taken you shopping. I mean, there’s a TJ Maxx right down the street from my place, then off to the Burger King, where I totally would have bought you the large combo meal if you asked for it. But no dessert, I’m not a goddamned bank.