fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
This is my front page. If you want me to add you, drop me a line here. Or, add me. Either way, I'll check you out. You can also drop me a line here if, for instance, you don't have my email address. All comments here are screened.

This post also includes every tag I have -- this is because my current LJ style doesn't include a tag index. (At least half of my participation on LJ is on my phone. I chose this style because, as bare-bones as it is, it loads quickly and it's still readable on a small screen.)

I'd tell you more about myself, but that's what my profile -- and the rest of my LJ -- is for.
fierynotes: Picture of Jerry Springer surrounded by the flames of Hell, with the caption 'What the fucking fucking fuck?' (wft)
...because they give the world so much.

Any given typical person, if they got a foreign body stuck in their rectum, would be mortified and hope that no one ever found out just what they had to visit the ER for. They'd claim to have fallen in the shower on their partner's neck massager, and hoping that no one comments on how it was conveniently upright at the time. They'd claim to have been attacked in a home invasion by burglars armed with sex toys. In short, they'd lie their foreignly-embodied ass off.

Not this guy! He live-tweeted the whole visit! And gave Energizer batteries a glowing endorsement I'm sure they'd be happier not to get!
fierynotes: Picture of Jerry Springer surrounded by the flames of Hell, with the caption 'What the fucking fucking fuck?' (wft)
In the show Babylon 5, one of the characters (the chief of security) had a yearly ritual of making a dish called Bagna Cauda. For those of you unfamiliar (as I was, before I saw the show), it's a hot dipping sauce in the manner of fondue, but it's made with olive oil, butter, garlic, and anchovies, and one dips vegetables into it. The station doctor tried to forbid the security chief from making it because, well, it's a heart attack in a dipping bowl. (He relented when the station chief pointed out he only made it once a year, in honor of his father, and even tried it himself. He admitted that it was really damned tasty, but insisted that his arteries started to clog just from being in the same room with it.)

Epic Meal Time, for those of you unfamiliar, is a YouTube show that glories in unhealthy shit. As far as I know, they've never attempted Bagna Cauda... and you can already see where I'm gong with this, can't you?

"Wassup haters? Today, we're making Bagna Cauda. It's like fondue, but better, because it's made with butter instead of cheese. Normally, you dip veggies into it, but we don't eat veggies here at Epic Meal Time, because veggies are for pussies. We're gonna dip BACON in this shit!"

(I know that Epic Meal Time beeps f-bombs. I have no doubt that the host would use the words "shit" and "pussies," but I don't know if these words would be replaced by animal sounds in post.)
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
"Did you know that scatomancy is an obscure form of divination from the seventeenth century, in which the practitioner would give a questioner purgative drugs and then direct them to defecate on a large marble table, and then, just as a tasseomancer would with tea leaves, the scatomancer would divine the future from the patterns of fecal matter deposited on the marble?

"Of course you didn't. Because it's a lie."
fierynotes: Picture of a black sockpuppet. (footsie)
This video is sorta worksafe, aside from some colorful language.



You can find about a half-hour of the lemon party (no, not that lemon party!) that follows this intro here (NSFW). But honestly, just watch the intro. The actual porn is nowhere near as much fun. Honestly, if you thought getting lemon juice in you eye hurt...!
fierynotes: Picture of a black sockpuppet. (footsie)
Those of you with great solemn reverence for the classics may with to avoid this fic. It starts off horrible -- the title is Latin for "Cicero sucks me off" -- and promptly drives off several cliffs. Many thanks to the person who sent me the link (if they want credit for it).

(My Latin grammar is really questionable, but I think my title says "I will die and be consumed by fire because I laughed.")
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Gawker is such a time sink.

So, there's this show called Mad Men. It's supposed to be really good, and people rave about it being "period," where the clothes are vintage, and everybody smokes, and the writers are really blunt about period sexism. Seriously, that's all I know about it, other than the smokin' hot redhead with the curves from hell.

Oh, and there's a new season starting soon. I know this because one of the stars went out, photos were taken, and the internet is talking about how big his penis is. I seem to recall that similar buzzing came out with certain guys in other movies... didn't the internet go crazy over Superman's crotch when at least one Superman movie came out? Hell, a while back (here on LJ, here on DW, locked because I'm a bit shy), I posted about some band that leaked some cock shots shortly before they put out a new CD. Too bad the music was complete rubbish...

I see a trend. In a few years, whenever a new movie comes out, one of the leading men will "accidentally" leak a few private photos from his phone. Only if he has a big one, of course. If not, there's allegedly this falsie that was used on the set of the Spartacus: Blood and Sand series, and he can borrow that. Or just go out in public with a strategically placed pair of socks and a press crew.


There are things you talk about before you're married.

Guys, I hate to say this, but the size of your penis is one of them, especially if you're not in the center of the bell curve. If you have a really big one, a lady (or another man, depending on your tastes) has a right to know before they agree to spend the rest of their life (barring divorce) with you. Telling them "surprise, you're gonna get torn in half on a regular basis!" on your wedding night is just bad faith. Granted, there are lots of ways around that, but a little understanding and effort is going to be required by both parties. Likewise, if you have a really little one, hiding it from them until you have a ring on their finger is bad form. Not that sex is impossible with a small penis, but again, a little understanding and effort is going to be required by both parties.

All this applies even if one or both parties doesn't believe in sex before marriage. Communication. It's kinda important.

(I find myself thinking of that one Gilda Radner skit: "...and on their wedding night, the princess found that the prince had an itty... bitty... teeny... tiny... little... bitty... teeny... tiny..." (Bell rings.) "Never mind!" You can find that skit here, though not by Gilda, sadly.)


Perez Hilton has a new fashion accessory kid. I feel so sorry for the guy. the kid, I mean. Why did Perez Hilton have to have a kid? Did he run out of beaches to do handstands on? Wasn't the world better off without that twit having decided to spawn? Oh, and look, he posted photos!

If this were anyone else, I wouldn't bother to pay attention. Lots of people post dozens of baby photos when they have kids. Since this is Perez Hilton, however, I have this barely-controllable urge to doodle crude things all over his photos. And judging from the comments in that article, I'm not alone. Fair is fair, innit?

In a few of those photos, Perez Hilton is scantily clad. Again, normally I wouldn't bother to pay attention, but this is Perez Hilton. So... you know that one guy in the gym? Yeah, that guy. The one with the absolutely amazing upper body, who's all look-at-me-look-at-me-look-at-me with a shirt that he's hacked so much of the sides and front and back out of that it covers his navel and almost nothing else, and if he moves near a fan, you can even see that? Isn't that annoying? Well I get the same vibe off Perez Hilton in some of those photos. "Look at me, I have a chest now!"

(The previous comments maaaaay be slightly biased on the grounds that I think he's a scumbag. Perez Hilton, I mean, not that exhibitionist musclehead. That exhibitionist musclehead is merely annoying.)
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
That's Not an Acceptable Form of Lube: a celebration of all the bad choices of lube that make it into fanfic. My favorite one was this one (Warning: unbelievably gross). It inspired me a bit, since that one appeared in a Sweeney Todd fic...

Cut because OMFGross. )

I should add, in all fairness, that the variety of stuff that gets misused as lube in real life is also a little disturbing. In one section of his Sex Tips for Slash Writers, Minotaur came up with a list... (NSFW, squicky).
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Odd Folks Home: The intro for this show, with the fly buzzing around the mansion, led me to half-expect a decayed host with a taste for awful puns. I only saw one episode of this, and was really impressed by the craftsmanship of the guy making robots... wait, are those censor bars? Then, I saw him buying 1/4" tubing at a hardware store, and explaining that he was going to attach it to a robot he'd made of a Ken doll to endow the robot with what Ken never had. The rest of the people on this show were similarly... off. On the other hand, their hobbies are completely harmless. And hey, fucking robots might be real in the future, though I think they'll look more AI than Metropolis.

Man vs. Food: A guy tours the United States, looking for places to gorge himself stupid. This show disgusts me, it repulses me... and yet, I can't look away. But then, I always get queasy about eating contests. There's a part of me that's amused by the fact that one of the most fearsome competitive eaters is a little guy with a six-pack, but watching him eat dozens of hot dogs in one sitting makes me just as sick.

Giada de Laurentiis: For fun, take one drink every time she says "yummy." You'll be buzzed by the end of the show.

Rachel Ray: For fun, take one drink every time she says "yummo," or any other invented word. You'll be smashed by the end of the show.

Guy Fieri: For "fun," take one drink every time he says "flavortown," or any invented word. You'll be dead by the end of the show.

Robert Irvine: This one's amusing. Take a chef, and give him impossible challenges like "cook a meal for several hundred people with inadequate equipment," or "spend several hours in the same building as Guy Fieri without giving in to that overpowering urge to beat the crap out of him." (Do google image searches on Robert Irvine and Guy Fieri, and keep in mind that in addition to his obvious physical advantages, Robert Irvine is ex-Navy. No way would Guy Fieri win that one.) He usually succeeds. Lately, he's also trying to rescue desperate restaurants -- a little like Gordon Ramsey, but with much less swearing.

Ina Garten: Her cooking appears solid. No, better than that -- she appears to be very competent. (There are people on my list who are qualified to discuss her cooking, but she is far enough above me that I can't really judge.) However, that's only the first part of the show -- the second part involves what one of you here on my list referred to once as "Martha's Vineyard clownfucking foppery." When I saw this part at work, I was barely able to make sure there were no customers in the store before I yelled "Martha's Vineyard clownfucking foppery" at the screen. Now, I've got my coworkers doing it, because that phrase is just so FUN.
fierynotes: Picture of Tarvek, from Girl Genius, facepalming. (facepalm)
There's this movie called "Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead." Just from a "best of" clip, it includes projectile vomit, explosive projectile diarrhea, a disgustingly literal take on that alleged skinny person who's just waiting to burst out of any given fat person, a bunch of chicken demons descending on a fast food joint that serves chicken (where they turn the tables on the human patrons), and a lot of sick humor. Gods help me, I laughed my ass off when one chicken demon said "I know it's fattening, but I just love the skin" -- after having torn a person's face off and started to eat it. I also giggled as a chicken demon tore a person's head off, cracked it over a grill, and started scrambling the brain as one would scramble eggs.

The "best of" is here. You can see the whole movie here as well, at least until Troma orders it taken down... oh, wait, Troma posted this! No hurry, then.

I haven't watched it yet. From what I've seen, it's typical Troma in that it ought to be disgusting, but the special effects are deliberately bad, which makes it kinda funny.

Meanwhile, YouTube has gotten in the habit of recommending things I'd rather not see. For instance, I wrote a post in which I linked to several clips by that assclown Onision, but since I had to watch them to judge them, YouTube keeps suggesting more. I watched a few clips of People's Court and Judge Judy, and YouTube thinks I need to watch more. And right now, it's suggesting that I watch a Japanese horror film called Grotesque.

According to Wikipedia, the plot of Grotesque is simple. A doctor spends the whole movie torturing a couple who just went out on their first date, stopping only to treat them so that they'll survive long enough for him to torture them some more. The couple eventually dies, after having lost various body parts between them ). The doctor goes looking for another victim. The end.

As much as I'll gripe that Saw and Hostel were blatant torture porn, at least those movies had plot. Grotesque can't even claim that. Not watching that shit.
fierynotes: Picture of a black sockpuppet. (footsie)
Action Figure Porn. Probably not especially arousing (unless you're a bit weird), but easily the funniest damn thing I've seen in a while.

(Edited to add, somewhere in some attic, I have a bunch of Star Wars toys I haven't touched since I was small. Gods help the internet if I ever find them...!)
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
So, there's this app that will estimate a guy's penis size from his foot size. Except it was made for WebOS, which was developed by Palm, which HP bought (and has done rather little with). Neither HP nor Palm made this app, and only 84 people have actually paid money for it, at just under a buck each. There's a free version, which a little over two thousand people have bothered to download -- unsurprising, since as far as I can tell, HP hasn't put out a new device that runs on WebOS for over a year and a half. With me so far?

The name of this app that checks chubbies is a little unfortunate, as it's clearly a reference to a guy who's made a name for himself with one song, and released it several times with slight variations -- he's sorta like a black and rotund AC/DC that way. Clearly, a massive and important musical legacy is being shit on here. Anyway, he's suing HP. Not Magic Apps, the company that released the chubby-checking app. HP.

For half a billion dollars.

Either he's never heard of Streisand Effect, or he is really desperate for headlines. Or maybe he's come to hate doing "The Twist" so much that he wants to be remembered for something -- ANYTHING! -- else. (I'd believe that, actually. I imagine Tony Bennett must be sick of leaving his heart in San Francisco, too.)
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
Consistency of theme and mood is not one of the things you'll find in my LJ. I am perfectly happy, for instance, to follow a post on higher mathematics with a post on shock sites -- in fact, I've written one post that combines the two (here on LJ, here on DW). So, I'm following a post with a heartbreaking song with... well, a guy farting into a trumpet. In fact, his whole channel on YouTube is devoted to farting.



I quote the description of the video: "Here I am playing the trumpet with my butt. Human farts are actually perfect for butt trumpet playing. My embouchure is a little weak. The trumpet has been up in the attic for a few years, but I got it out to rip a few in the low and mid registers"

"...My embouchure is a little weak."

...

"...My embouchure is a little weak."

Those of you who don't play brass or winds will just have to take my word for it when I say that this is fucking hilarious. Or you could look up embouchure yourself, and (mis)apply it to this particular context...
fierynotes: Picture of a black sockpuppet. (footsie)
What are little girls made of?
Sugar, spice, and everything nice.
That's what little girls are made of.

What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails.
That's what little boys are made of.

What are tigers made of?
Dragonflys and katydids, but mostly chewed-up little kids.
That's what tigers are made of.

What are demons made of?
Sulfur flames, molten glass, and penises in gay male ass.
That's what demons are made of.



(I wish I were kidding when I say that some people apparently believe this shit.)
fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
Advocating for humane prison conditions is a hard uphill battle. Here in the US, you have to deal with the assholes who think that anyone who gets thrown into prison deserves whatever happens to them -- indeed, that prison rape is something to laugh about. (The HIV transmission rate in prisons is kinda alarming, and I wish I remembered the actual figure.) It's hard to get people who like the idea that prisons ought to put prisoners to work to realize that if companies are paying less than a buck an hour to prisoners for manufacturers, this takes jobs away from people on the outside... you know, like we complain about all those damned immigrants doing. Combine this with the fact that we do not live in a post-racial culture (and you better believe our prison demographics reflect that), and the attitude that many people have about prisoner welfare often varies between don't-know-don't-care and fuck-'em-they-deserve-it.

Prisoners are human beings, too, and it's hard to get people to realize that. While they are in prison, we should at least provide things like safety from other prisoners, freedom from being exploited for corporate profit, coffee that's actually hot, moisturizer, sufficient butter for his toast, a cell with a nice view, video games...

...wait, WHAT?
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
Hey, ladies, check this out! Muscles and a sense of humor!

Seriously, this site is hilarious. Like all good parody, it has this aura of "oh god, this might be serious... naaaah!"
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Over on JournalFen, the annoying twit PewDiePie has just come up for discussion. It seems a few people have made funny out of this unfunny asshat by creating a group reaction video of him. For those of you who need trigger warnings: suicide (as a coping mechanism against PewDiePie), drug and alcohol abuse (also as a coping mechanism against PewDiePie), and PewDiePie flinging the word "rape" around like rice at one of Reverend Moon's mass weddings.



The discussion is here, but the video I embedded above is the funny stuff.
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
(The following song makes a lot more sense if you've heard this one.)

All you have to do is take a cup of flour!
Add it to the mix!
Now just take a little something sweet, not sour!
A bit of salt, just a pinch!

STD awareness is such a cinch!
Make icing look like gonorrhea!
Add a few warts, and you count by fours,
And let everypony see your...

Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty!
Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty!
Cupcakes!
Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES! (NSFW, Not Safe For Lunch!)
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (violent)
Hey! Wouldn't be funny if Daniel Tosh fell into a septic tank and drowned? Seriously, wouldn't it be just hilarious? I mean really, septic tanks are never not funny!

(Context. Warning for rape triggers.)
fierynotes: Picture of Tarvek, from Girl Genius, facepalming. (facepalm)
A little over two hundred years ago, some pervert named Marquis de Sade wrote The 120 Days of Sodom. For those of you unfamiliar, it's about four rich and powerful aristocrats who have been sexually abusing their daughters, who decide to throw their daughters in a castle along with either pretty young girls, eight handsome young boys, and four ugly old crones. Then, they enlist as accomplices four veteran whores and eight men with huge penises (four of whom de Sade doesn't bother to name), and spend four months doing no end of horrible shit to the daughters, pretty little girls and boys, and ugly old crones. (If I remember right, a couple of the castle cook's assistants get raped as well. The cook protests, and the perverts decide that actually having food is a good thing, so they decide not to rape any more of the cook's staff.)

There are people who will argue that this book is an amazing social commentary, an attack on those who would abuse their power... but no, I disagree. The Marquis de Sade was just a pervert. And not any of the fun or hot kinds of pervert, either. The 120 Days of Sodom ought to have ended with the lines, "wow, that's a hell of an act. What do you call it?" "The Aristocrats!"


Nearly forty years ago, some guy named Pier Paolo Pasolini (who isn't just some guy, but was apparently a towering cultural figure) decided that the Marquis de Sade's The 120 Days of Sodom really needed to be a movie, and created Salò o le 120 giornate di Sodoma. I can just imagine the sort of casting calls for it:
Wanted: eight pretty young women and eight handsome young men. Must be willing to be filmed naked, act like a dog, play a victim in simulated rape scenes, eat (and possibly bathe in) chocolate on camera, and ultimately be tortured (with bad special effects). Must also not be planning a career in show business, because after being in this movie, you'll quite possibly never work again.

Wanted: four tough young men. Must be willing to play rapists and be filmed naked (except for a large rubber cock). Must also not be planning a career in show business, because after being in this movie, you'll quite possibly never work again.

Wanted: four older men. Must be willing to play powerful brutes, dress (badly) in drag, eat chocolate and have lemonade dribbled on your faces. Must also not be planning a career in show business, because after being in this movie, you'll quite possibly never work again.


And a few hours ago, some poor fool named "fierynotes" decided, after arming himself with a mostly-complete translation of the script, to watch this beastly shitstain of a movie. In retrospect, this was not one of my better decisions.

The pacing of this movie is not merely slow, but glacial. Pasolini spent twenty-two minutes framing the horrors that will take place in that castle. After that, things got disturbing. About an hour in, I wanted to throw up. (There are a couple of infamous scenes of coprophagia in this movie. I don't care if the copro- in question was choco-, I wanted to throw up.) Then an ass-judging contest, then a mockery of a wedding in which our four aristocrats get "married" to the four guys with extra-large rubber cocks, then a mudbath (which made me want to throw up again). Ultimately, this movie ends with the victims being raped, tortured, and murdered... and the pianist, who's been providing the soundtrack for all of this abuse, decides to jump out a very high window. Can't say I blame her.

In every way that matters, this movie is faithful to the source material... but having the four veteran whores as storytellers makes the pace of the movie unbearably slow. (I suppose this is a blessing in disguise -- it helps to give the viewer a break from all the horrible stuff being shown.) It's just like the book in that if you squint, you can construe it as social commentary... but it's still just an Aristocrats joke.

One last thing I feel I need to add, and this is my music geek showing... this movie came out in 1975. Carl Orff died in 1982. I mention this because near the end of Salò, Veris leta facies ("The Merry Face of Spring," from Carmina Burana) gets excerpted, and if I were Orff, I would have sued the everliving fuck out of... well, I don't know. Pasolini was fatally stabbed shortly before Salò was released. But I would have found someone to sue, and then I would have sued them off the planet. I can only assume that Orff never became aware that his music was abused in this way.

I want a drink after watching this. I can only add that I'm glad I downloaded this -- I'd hate to have paid to watch this. I'll be deleting it as soon as I finish typing up this post -- I feel filthy just for allowing it to exist on my computer.

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fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
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