Robski Reviews: Pink, Partying and Passover

Pink brought her Truth About Love Tour to the TD Garden on 3/28/13 and for the first time since the late 90s I'm about to say..... last night I enjoyed Pink. After some serious pre-gaming at The Grand Canal I walked into The Garden to see a variety of men and women dressed in pink wigs, pink shirts, pink dresses, pink hats, pink glow sticks, pink nails, pink shoes. There was pink everywhere I hadn't seen that much pink since that time I was "experimenting" in the late 90's. 

Yes people we'll be doing vagina jokes today.

Before the show started I was drinking with some random lesbians at the bar outside the lodges entrance on the second level. There are few places to buy hard alcohol in TD Garden so your placement is everything otherwise you'll be standing in the "Shots" line with drunken party girls carrying oversized Frozen Margarita glasses bumping into you while looking for a bathroom. 

I'm 100% a Dyke Daddy, I get along better with lesbians than I do most gay men so I was having a blast and to top it off one woman even offered me $8 to buy my T-shirt and switch shirts with her. I told her I paid $35 for it but lesbians are known for being thrifty (e.g. Suze Orman) so I knew a lesbian $8 offer was a fair offer still I declined, I just wouldn't look right in a T-shirt covered in dream catchers.

I went in to the arena thinking it was going to be me and 20,000 lesbians and that I would be in hog-less heaven. Instead I got pockets of gays and lesbians but mostly a lot of young 40s boring white women. Behind us sat a group of 40 year old soccer mom types who talked the entire show, the only time the stopped talking was to sing along with the one song they knew "Sober" then back to talking and some bad dancing that made Elaine Benes' Seinfeld dance look like Swan Lake. 

The show was a lot like her 2009 Funhouse Tour there was a circus atmosphere complete with a pan sexual ringmaster type. The difference between the two tours is this one looked a lot more expensive with more dancers, fancier staging and pyrotechnics. There was also a lot more Cirque Du Soleil type high flying stunts in the air which delighted the lesbians around us to the point of what appeared to be seat wetting, would that make it Cirque De Solabia? 

Pink did all of her hits and some new album songs as well. She sounded and looked great, but she also appears to have softened a bit which as an artist is not such a bad thing. The last 2 songs of the night were the crowds favorites. First she sang "Get The Party Started" while strapped in (not on you dirty pig) a contraption that flew her above the crowd from the lodges to the balconies. 

Then the last song of the night was fan/lesbian favorite "Glitter In The Air" again she is roped in to a Cirque Se Solabia style apparatus and sings while dancers perform up in the air with her. By the end of the song she is drenched in water and spins around in her ropes getting the audience wet as well, not just the lesbians this time.  

For me this show was too similar to her last tour and lacked the audience connection she had with her last tour. I still enjoyed the show and was glad I went but not enough to make me want to go back when she returns to Boston in December.

If there was a loss of connection between Pink and her audience last night I am going to have to say it's because she now appeals to a broader and somewhat different audience than in previous shows. I am happy Pink is now getting a larger audience and selling out arenas because that means more money for her and in return we'll get more Pink (I just threw up a little after thinking about what I just typed). 

I do want more Pink and apparently the 5 foot fuzzy Jewish man next to me wants more Pink too, he freely offered the Jewish information to me BTW because it was a big deal for him and his wife to see a concert during Passover. Mr Littlejew danced the night away like he was lip synching for his LIFE in front of RuPaul, all while his wife kept the Jewish woman stereotype alive and well by not moving once during the entire performance. 

I love closet Jewish gays and their miserable wives, other peoples misery makes me feel alive inside, as Martha Stewart says "It's a good thing".

Gay Marriage Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope

I was driving to work this morning listening to a conservative talk show host make the claim that gay marriage passing the Supreme Court will lead to trouble.  If the supreme court strikes down Proposition 8 that gay marriage will spread.  Straight people will suddenly become gay.  Homosexuality will spread.  Our society will burn.  Whole families will die out.  The streets will be over run with sin and rape! The very pillars that morality is built on will crumble.  I heard this and I celebrated in my car!!!!!!!!!  HOLY SHIT!  Do you mean straight dudes will wake up tomorrow and suddenly want some dick?
CONGRATS
TO
US
Oh the dream... you enter a coffee shop, order a tall cup of joe, "room for cream?"  "Obvi bro!"  Being gay is amazing.  Sure you are going to be discriminated against, beaten by thugs in the street, and the most common term to demean a male is the same term used to classify your group.  But do you know what being gay means?  It means you can have sex all the time.  With almost anyone.  There are areas of the city that are dedicated to gay dudes banging and that's it.  No names exchanged.  No hand shakes, Yes handjobs.  I am friends with a gay couple that hang out in Provincetown once a week in the summer.  I went down to visit, meeting the larger group of gays they were friends with.  After dinner and some drinks we went back to their house.  We talked and laughed for hours.  It was magical.  Another house guest came home after dancing and partying.  We said hello and he decided to go to bed, but before he left he dropped this little gem... a look into the wonderful world of being gay.  He said "I have to take a night off, I slept with someone on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.  I am tired.  I need a night off".  I said "Was this the same person?'  he said "no no no, all different".
WHAT? That rock star fucking numbers without the stupid touring and all the trash.  I bet Peter Criss didn't bang this many chicks, and that muther fucker was in seventies Kiss!!!!!!!  He goes to a regular job, and still bangs like he's Jon Bon Jovi crica 1989... goddamn.

Clearly Paul Stanley had Rockstar style sex, with a lot of dudes

I know this is the place for my kind.  I am already a member of a gay group "The Bears".  I like to think of myself as more of an otter or cub but whatever.  I don't care.  In the straight community I am a member of "The weirdly fat, balding, I have man boobs club".  That club has another name, a more common name "The you do not sleep with many ladies club".  But as a gay, I am part of a class.  It's like Dungeons and Dragons of the sex world.  There are so many groups, and believe me there is a group for you.  Silver Foxes.  Otters.  Chubbies.  Gym rats.  Nerds.  Everyone is welcome!


Gays, I am confused.  Why are you fighting for this? Marriage Equality?  Why?  Have you hung out with a lot of married couples?  They are not fun.. at all.  Have you ever heard of something called STAND UP comedy.  Look it up, and see how much time is spent shitting on marriage.  Married couples are not fun.  Sure they are in the beginning.  They go out, go to shows, get drunk, party.  Now give them 5 years and goodness.  It's like a constant suicide watch.  Here is the only proof that marriage sucks.  Have you ever seen a marriage parade?  Never.  I have seen gay parades, it looks like the a porn site exploded.  Gay parades are awesome.  What would a marriage parade look like?  A float goes featuring a guy is holding a purse and the woman is shopping.  Or the wife is sleeping and the dude is watching porn.  Or the guy is watching football while the wife is upstairs reading her copy of 50 shades of gray and taking a looooong bath?.  Sounds amazing.  Wow.  Stop it gay people, this is not the road you want to go down.
But hey I am straight so if the gays do this and it leads to my brethren going shit dick crazy, then it's a good sacrifice.  Go ahead.  Your new right for gay marriage will lead to the magic gay button in our heads being pushed and the straights will rejoice.
Truth be told, this fight isn't for me.  I am a happily "married" man, to the best girl in the world.  This fight is for my fat, bald, and not looking to fix it brothers.
Pray for it fatties.  Please supreme court do justice to all the fat dudes in the world.  Open the doors to the world of rock star sex.  Good luck.
Ev Orfa

The Ballad of Pepper Mills by Robski

I was picking up my usual at the grocery store today lean turkey burger meat, raisin bran, breakfast blend K cups, random nibbly things and store brand paper towels. I got to the check out line and as always I was doing the self check out because I don't like strange people handling my food. Well not strange people as much as the creepy oldsters that work at my supermarket. Don't judge, they lick their old swollen arthritic fingers while they handle your food and put it in your bag, GROSS. So I'm just checking away when this horrible ugly little child maybe 2 or 3 years old runs to the end of my line and starts grabbing all my previously scanned items at the end of the aisle. BTW Yes children can be ugly I may be the only one who will admit it but there are many of your friends and people you see everyday with ugly children so own it. 

Let me be clear I don't hate all children, some of my friends and family have the most awesome and adorable kids you ever have seen. I love my nieces and nephews more than I could possibly say, I once received a video message from a nephew that was so touching my heart actually beat again for a good 5 seconds. 

A while ago The Missus and I discussed having our own child so of course that means adopting. To catch you up we aren't the fancy kind of rich gays that can afford the white children so we were going to have to go get a girl from China like many of our friends. Sidebar: you can always pick out the really rich gays in a crowd, they are the ones with the white adopted children. The Missus thought it would be wonderful to bring a little girl home from China and spoil her with the best schools and I would buy her the best clothes and toys, she would have amazing cousins her age to relate to and grow up with The Missus was really excited.

I wasn't on board just yet so we decided to think it over and after the initial fear of eating strange food in Hong Kong when picking her up wore off a new fear arose, what it we got an ugly child! I had to bring myself back down so I thought even if we get an ugly one I could keep her on as staff, I really said that. I meant that too I mean how much worse is doing my housework compared to making bootleg Louis Vuitton purses, wallets and shoes in a sweatshop for 16 hours a day I think she'd be making out in the deal. Plus I would be giving her an awesome name "Pepper Mills" that alone would be worth scrubbing the poop stains out of The Missus' underwear.

While I was on the fence still The Missus was really into the idea of adopting Pepper Mills and it's true I will do anything to make my Missus happy. As the discussion went on over several days a friend with a couple kids stopped by. The kids spilled our water cooler, messed up our cabinets, they played with my collectible toys, broke a $30 wine glass and interrupted us every chance they could. At times we had asked our friend to go to New York with us but our friend couldn't because of the kids. This wasn't the first time our friend couldn't do something many times our friend couldn't go to movies, or go out at night for a cocktail and of course we understood why but The Missus remembered all the fun times that were missed. Our friend and the children left and The Missus said to me having a kid means not having nice things and not going out as much to which I  enthusiastically confirmed YES. Just like that Pepper Mills was to remain in China.  

Back to the supermarket now, here was this ugly child taking my scanned items and there was no mother to be found. I did not want any responsibility for this ugly child so I immediately scan for a parent or a store employee. A minute or 2 passes and eventually a mother shows up with a look of surprise that she had found the child so quickly. The mother reminded me of Ke$ha she wasn't pretty but she wasn't ugly either she seemed a bit off and a little dirty. I don't know her story so I can't judge her, I will say if I go out in public with my nieces and nephews they don't leave my sight for a second and I understand how difficult that is. 

I don't know why but as I get older there seems to be a lot of judgmental                   people out there about me not having kids. I would never judge anyone for having kids so I can't understand why they would judge me for knowing I could never offer the guidance and attention a child needs to be raised properly, but I know I can be the greatest uncle on the planet. My heart does not weep for little Pepper Mills sitting in a sweat shop in China somewhere things worked out OK for Annie after all. Perhaps there is a Chinese Daddy Warbucks out there right now ready to snatch up little Pepper Mills. Perhaps he will spoil her with birthday parties at Chong-E-Cheeses and feed her all the raw squid she can eat. Then probably send her to earn her keep in the sweat shop. 

So if you are ever in Hong Kong and you see a young girl emerge from a door in a back alley holding arm full's of bootleg Louis Vuitton apparel take a step back pay attention to the quality craftsmanship, look at that attention to detail in the stitching and think to yourself..... well done Pepper Mills your could have been dads are proud of you, now back to work.

French Fry Giveaway!

French Fries.  Somebody needs to explain to me just what in the fuck is going on with all these burger joints and the god damn french fries. I mean honestly, it's like "5 Guys" is spitting in my pasty Irish face when I order them with my tasty burger.  Don't they realize my Irish people suffered the great potato famine?  Thousands upon thousands of Irish people starved to death because of it.  And "5 Guys" is serving you an entire SACK of them with every order.  And that's if you remember to order the small.  If you fuck up and order the large, they just give you a wheelbarrow full and you walk that over to your table.  And if you are picking up an order for a friend?  Well fuck.  They just have a guy follow you to your car and rig up a shipping container to your car and fill it to the brim with natural cut, bland tasting french fries.

                                                              A Small takeout order of fries at "5 Guys"

If all of those dead potato famine victims could see these upscal horsemeat slingers just giving away mountains of french fried perdaders they would rise from their graves and they would "crunchify" the shit out of Bobby Flays fat head**.  That jerk is taking the Irish insult to a whole other level.  His volume of potato waste knows no match.  He starts off the insult by literally giving you a bucket of french fries. A BUCKET! No small. No large. Just the bucket option. An overflowing metal bucket of salty, natural cut death.

At least "5 Guys" pretends to give you the size you order even if they do fill the takeout bag with one of those packing peanut machines that fill boxes at U.P.S. If you are actually finishing your entire order of fries at any of these places, you really need to take a good look at your life. You may be at risk of being a tremendous, tremendous fat ass. Very high risk.

But no. Bobby doesn't even stop there with the potato famine insult brigade. Not only is he french frying the fuck out of billions of potatoes, but he is also "Crunchifying" your burger. If a giant pail of fries isn't quite enough startch, Bobby has more potato for you. He's adding a pile of potato...CHIPS on top of your burger. And giving it a gimmicky name! "Crunchified!"

                                                                         You hate the Irish?  Me too

My god how much potato can one man waste?!?! Jezuz H Christ forget crop diseases that caused the famine, I think the ancesters of Bobby Flay stole all the potatoes in Ireland and sold them to gypsies for a penny on the dollar.

                                **blogger understands Bobby Flays head is not physically fat.

Love those Lohantics with Robski

The day after St. Patricks Day is a favorite day of mine here in Boston because it's the day I get to see all the Seagulls out in the early morning eating the puke off the sidewalks, but this day after St. Patty's was extra special because Lindsay Lohan provided us the vomit on the sidewalk of her career and I am including Liz & Dick.

The day for me started out slow, coffee sans Bailey's giving the liver a rest after a holiday, Raisin Bran, worked on some projects for my upcoming Etsy adventure, checked out Revenge on DVR and then a good poop. Amazing how the coffee and cereal did nothing but that suppository of a show called Revenge on ABC can push a stool out quicker than a power bottom with a Fleet Enima. I am thankful I was able to clear my old colon because if I didn't the fuckery I was about to witness online would have made me shit myself like my Missus on a taco night. 

Reports were all over the internet about how Lindsay Lohan was due in court at 8:30 AM in California. She has already missed one flight from New York, pulled herself off another and in a rock star move got a friend to lend her a private jet. She must have an amazing vagina to get access to private jets at a moments notice, note to self start doing those Kegels again. Long story short, she shows up to court late looking tired and greasy yet somehow better than her attorney who looks like Fonzi's used car salesman cousin and ends up getting a great plea deal. In essence she gets another free pass as long as she goes to rehab, sees a shrink, does a little community service and stays out of trouble. 

It was a great train wreck to watch on it's own merit but the real Alexis/Crystal drama took place after court when her lawyer went outside to address the media. This was Attorney Mark Heller's moment to soak up the fame and you could tell he was enjoying the spotlight. He took to the microphones and was patting himself on the back when Lindsay's dad Michael showed up and started ranting at him in tongues. A decent honest man would have defended himself and called out Michael but Heller ran like a Kenyan. 

I have to wonder if Lindsay is brilliant or just the luckiest person alive. She was a respected actress making millions but now she's known for being a party girl, getting into fights with people, being a groupie to a boyband, ruining designer clothes and asking Charlie Sheen for money. Sidenote: In the early 2000s I did all of these things and not once did I ever get a private jet, free cars or any court leniency. Long story short she's still making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, clubbing, having a good life and I still have to remain 100 feet away from Lance Bass at all times. Where is the fairness I ask you? Given that there is no great sudsy train wreck drama on TV anymore I say Lindsay is brilliant, she knew her career was over so she found a niche to fill and a way to stay relevant. Make that cash LiLo and bank roll the party lifestyle we wish we could all have. 

I read a report this morning that Lindsay told her friends she only chose the rehab plea deal because she was scared of jail. I interpret that as she'll do her 90 days in rehab and we can be prepared for some more Lohantics by the summer.

Nextel Hobo Tech- A Breakup Story, By Darren Hanson

Nextel Hobo Tech - A Breakup Story

Words and Pictures by Darren Hanson

------------------------------------------------

So I have been trying to figure out the mechanics of rigging a giant rolling boulder in my house. Why? I anticipate a visit by Indiana Jones at some point that will end with me discovering a bag of sand where I left my cell phone plugged in to charge. I just want to make sure Dr. Jones stays on his toes.

Yeah I have an old cell phone and cell plan. How old? A couple years? Five years? No, it was handed to me up on Mount Sinai, and was a decent upgrade to the burning bush I had been using up to that point. (I always got stiffed by the hidden fees on those “peak” hours. Ha! Ha. Yeah.) Okay, maybe my old Nextel plan isn’t a gift from God, but it is a small miracle that I still have this thing going.

Back in the year of our lord 2001, I was an employee at CompUSA. Remember that place? They were a retailer who carved out a niche selling things like desktop computers, the Cotton Gin, and those airplanes with ten wings that hop up and down but don’t fly. They had a counter with hand-held PDA’s and flip phones and such that I didn’t care much about. I was never interested in having a cell phone. Until the rep from Nextel came to town to hawk her wares. CompUSA employee discount plan, huh? Okay, you have my attention, you naughty tech-sales vixen.

The deal was this. Buy one of the Motorola phones used by the Nextel network. One was a flip phone that I knew would break faster than any of my diets at a Chinese buffet. The other… well it looked tougher. If it were a person it would have the cauliflower ears of a prizefighter. The Motorola I88. With no movable parts, except a retractable antennae, it seemed this phone may be able to hold it’s own in the knick-knack death match coliseum known as my pants pocket.

The plan boasted 1000 minutes of talk time a month anytime. That’s a lot of minutes. I was currently getting by using 0 cell minutes a month. But to have 1000? Without worries of peak hours or calling during off-hours? I like when technology takes a couple dirty nibbles on my earlobe. Wait, hold on… the plan also has UNLIMITED Direct Connect! The hot feature hit parade keeps on coming. What is Direct Connect? Well, it’s like your phone is also a CB radio you can use to talk back and forth with other Nextel users. What’s a CB radio? Come on, go Blockbuster and rent the Smokey and the Bandit videocassette and find out!

It was just a matter of signing on the dotted line now. It wouldn’t be until much later that I discovered the joys of the “java” game Reversi. Oh and then there’s the ability to receive some kind of emails over phones… a kind of message made from texts, but through the phone? I discovered this eventually when I received a message that had a day/month stamp with a time. No name or phone number was attached. Who was it from? There was no way to tell. Also I could find no way to send these mystical messages. Not that I needed them, since I used the phone to call people. I want to strengthen my friendships with real communication, not impersonal little one-sentence messages. Also they charged an additional fee of 25 cents per message, so screw that.

With that I hoisted the sail and began my journey out of the harbor of high technology toward the future. It was looking bright. Gone are the days of me getting home from a night out with my friends to check messages at home wondering if there were any births or deaths while I was out having a good time. Now the evening can be ruined at any time during my adventures. How handy!

So it went for about five years. Then, like a child who refused to eat his dinner, the phone would no longer charge. “Incompatible Charger” it would say on the screen before powering off. For a time I could perform some bondage moves with rubber bands and such to keep the chord at just the right angle to charge. But it didn’t last. I needed a new phone.

I heard there were phones with color screens now! This was probably around 2006 and I was due for an upgrade. I quickly realized I didn’t want to spend $200 and up for a new phone. That was a lot of money. Keep in mind back in 2006, $200 was like $210 today when you adjust for inflation. And cell plans… $60 to $100 a month! I was paying $10 a month. I did what any person who prefers to blow his money on fancy cheeses than cell phone bills would do… got the new Motorola phone. The I88s. Yeah, the same exact phone. With an “s” added to the name. I kept the plan.

Fast forward to today. Yes, I have the same phone now. Yes, I still pay 25 cents per text message I get from people that I can’t identify. I used the direct connect feature with one friend who had a Nextel phone for his job for a couple years and that was it. So it’s been $10 a month for 1000 minutes anytime. No longer a friend with benefits. Still, my Nextel (bought out by Sprint in 2004) CompUSA (out of business since 2008) employee (stopped working there what, in 2002?) discount plan is still plugging along.

My Motorola I88s, well, to quote Han Solo “she may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.” Actually, it never did hold a charge well. I averaged about an hour of talk time on a charge. Which in hindsight probably kept me under the 1000 minutes most months. There were always problems charging as well. Signal strength is always hit-or-miss. The earpiece broke and I can mostly use speakerphone only. The retracting antennae would come out completely if you pulled too hard. Come to think of it, I kind of hate my phone.

That said, two things recently happened that spells doom for my cheap ride. For starters, Sprint/Nextel recently announced doom for the Nextel network. They are shutting it down in June. There it is, doom can’t be any clearer if it was on a 4G network. So now I MUST change my phone and update my plan. Doom!

The other thing happened when I was in the Subway in Boston waiting on the platform. I looked down at a panhandling hobo who was texting, web browsing, streaming Smokey and the Bandit or something on his smart phone. Mind you, not only can I not do those things with my phone, but also my Nextel phone doesn’t even get a flipping signal in the subway. I knew I was low-tech, but it never dawned on me that I was below hobo-tech. My phone surely has encouraged snooty glares from drunken drifters behind my back. Not good.

So I guess all good things must come to an end. So must all cheap yet disappointingly weak cell packages. A cell phone plan, a box of wine or a torrid relationship won’t last forever. But I gave Nextel the best years of my cell phone life! I stuck it out and put up with the dropped calls, poor coverage, boring features and I’m pretty sure that phone also snored; and now they are going to dump me? I could have been sexting with a better phone a long time ago! But I stayed by their side. I guess I hoped Nextel would change and we’d be happy again some day, like we were in the beginning. Now I face the prospect of starting over, playing the cell phone scene again. At my age I don’t know where I will begin, having been off the market for so long. I need to stay positive, look to the future and know things will only get better. I wish Sprint/Nextel all the best, and I hope they find what they are looking for with their future customers. But more importantly, I hope their next boyfriend is an asshole.

Roadhorse: by Greg Catrambone

        There’s a game every town with snowfall plays, no one really knows they play it, but they do. I call it Roadhorse. Roadhorse happens after there’s a significant snowfall and you need to drive somewhere. While you are on the road you stay in previously made tire tracks for better traction. If you live in a city or nice town, the first made tracks you’re following are made from a snowplow or a big salt truck, someone who belongs on the road.  In towns like mine the first tire tracks in the snow are made by someone who just woke up that really needs cigarettes, or a pissed off teenager that thinks snowfall transforms the town in to “Hazard County”.

        Following these tracks (that can only be made by Optimus Prime having a stroke while being dragged away by Starscream) is a feeling of security and wonder. Secure with having traction and a lower chance of getting stuck, and the wonder of why these tracks swerve to the wrong side of the road, on the curb, or if this retard was driving backwards. I also wonder if this person knows how much power they have. With all the people blindly following this weirdo’s crazy example, we have officially become a cult. ‘Leader says if I drive dangerously close to oncoming traffic I’ll be safe’. ‘Leader says I’ll be better off if I clip the snow bank like he did’.    

        It was on one of these trips when I was playing “Roadhorse” (which is now second nature) and thinking that maybe Fred Flintstone would be the fastest cartoon character ever if he ran full speed without pulling a car with stone wheels, stone seats, and a canopy top that worked against him. Thinking this while risking my life, the falling snow around me lights up white and blue. If I was high I might have thought I was driving at the bottom of a fish tank. Looking in the rearview I see a cop car coming in close. I pull over, straying from the tracks. With the cop car forcing me to pull over in deep snow and knowing I’m stuck, I now get the feeling the cop car is going to knock my car’s books out of its hands, and call my car a faggot as it runs off to gym class.

        Both cars now stopped, the cop gets out and walks to my window. Talking in a concerned voice he asks “ Are you having trouble?”. I said, “No, the person before me was”. “And who is the person before you?”, he asked. “I don’t know I’m just trying to stay in their tracks for better traction”. “Really”, he said with razed eyebrows. “Well, that and to keep police evidence intact officer, this guy needs to be caught!”, I responded. He gives me a ticket shaking his head. He hands me the ticket and gets in his car. Knowing It’s going to take me some effort to get out of the snow, I wait for him to leave first. Good thing I did because I saw something amazing happen. A black hole of society formed in front of me. The cop pulls out and  drives off ahead of me and doesn’t know half his car is driving on the wrong side of the road until a big truck comes around the bend and almost hits him. I saw something amazing. A cop who gave me a ticket for driving like a crazy person had just unknowingly put his faith in a crazy person by blindly following in his or her tracks.

        When I saw this happen, I braced myself because if there were aliens watching our planet and they saw what just happened, that would have been the time to attack. I imagine them canceling their world-dominating plan that was decades in development and going with a less complicated plan. Something along the lines of making tire tracks leading off of cliffs, into trees, or just making tracks that lead the army in circles as they kill everyone. Maybe while the aliens are pissing themselves laughing at the sight of an authority figure doing something so stupid, they’ll treat the planet accordingly and activate a gigantic robotic arm that will hit the planet over and over again with a huge skipper hat.

           And that’s why I think there are no aliens out there watching us.  But my theory on why there is a Lock Ness Monster is a different story and will have to wait for another time. 

Robski's Fungul of the Week: Conditioning Shampoo

 The Missus and I recently travelled to New York City to see a one night only show of Liza Minnelli and Alan Cumming at Town Hall, I would tell you we were sitting front row however I don't want to come off as a super faggy douche. To you straight guys out there let me explain the importance of this concert it' s essentially the equivalent of Candice Swanepoel sitting on your face, but for the gays.  

We were staying the night so we thought we'd try The Out NYC hotel which is a hotel that caters to the gays and their fag hags. We checked into our nice looking but small room which is expected for NYC and I needed to shower so I walked 2 steps from the bed into the bathroom and looked into the glass and mirrored shower to find a bottle of The Out NYC brand shampoo & conditioner in one! GASP shampoo AND conditioner in ONE BOTTLE... I thought to myself what the fuck are we in Yemen? 

I called through the frosted glass wall of the bathroom for The Missus to come in and confirm this travesty but he couldn't hear me over the dance music blaring from the courtyard. He was also enjoying the amenities they left out for their guests which included Grey Goose Vodka, a bottle of Pinot Noir, mineral water, a can of hangover relief, random snacks that are there to be seen and never eaten all of which are placed in a nice wooden tray next to a condom & lube kit. It was at this moment I confirmed stereotypes exist for a reason. 

I decided to rough it and forced myself to use the shampoo and conditioner in one. As I lathered up I looked over at the glass vessel sink/vanity/closet built into one and thought Robski this is really roughing it, this must be what camping is like. Since it was a low flow efficiency toilet it was kind like shitting in a hole in the woods. I felt like a real outdoorsman at that moment so later I treated myself to a low cal granola bar snack as a reward.

Conditioner and shampoo are two separate things for a reason they serve separate purposes and should be used as such, combining them into one bottle is just cheap and lazy. If I found the equivalent of Pert at a Holiday Inn Express or a Super 8 I would not have been surprised. If I walked in to either of those places to find a dead hooker on the bed I would not be surprised, but at a fag friendly hotel in New York City it's just not acceptable. Admit it when you walk by the jar of Peanut Butter & Jelly in one at the grocery store you give it the old side eye, when you pick up a Grapple or a Pluot in the fruit section at the grocery store you think to yourself what is this unnatural fuckery and the same should apply when you come across a bottle of Shampitioner.  Fungul to you Shampitioner go back to hell where you belong.

Google Images Stream Of Consciousness Part 2

Google Images Stream of Consciousness

Once again Google Images is here to make us laugh.  The randomness and the glory.  The blood and the butter.  Oh how I love thee.  

From all accounts this week sucked eggs.  So I think I should start with Sucks.

Clearly whatever you are doing sucks. Your band does not rock at all.  I am certain this song you are playing right now sounds like John Mayer and Dave Matthews shitting toothpicks.  Sorry man.
How about sorry man?

Hmm.  For some reason this piece is called Sorry Man.  Right.  Lack of genitals maybe?  Of course I will not do research to figure this out, I will go with conjecture.  Lack of genitals.  I am sorry too. How about Lack of Genitals?

Yes, Yes it totally snowed today. How about Snow?

BLAM!  eat it! Hahahahahahahaha.  How about eat it?

Hells yeah!  That's the right!  Eat it!  Pringles and a tattooed crotch.  Kablizow.  How bout Kablizow?

Look at these dudes!  Are they about the play soccer?  I know one thing, they are bringing the juice! Especially the guy on the left.  Look at him.  Look.  How about guy on the left?

YEAHHHH.  This is how we do this shit!  Washing each other.  No gay here.  All man.  What's going to happen next?  Hand stuff?  Mouth stuff?  I say mouth stuff.  I have to say the dude in the tub doesn't look happy about this.  Yet he should the happiest.   Too bad.  Good times.  How bout hand stuff?

And it ends here.  What is happening?  No one knows.  There is 2 dudes in underwear in the back.  The fat dude is dressed perfectly.  The drunk dude is killing it and shitting out a pizza box.  Awesome.

-Ev Orfa

ToxiComix! By Darren Hanson

Senator Rand Paul's Fabulous Filibuster by Robski

On Wednesday March 6th Senator Rand Paul who is a Republican US Senator from Kentucky held the Senate floor for nearly 13 hours to protest the administrations drone program and to hold up the nomination of John Brennan for CIA director. While I admittedly know as much about politics as I do about satisfying a woman I can tell you I was intrigued by this story. I watched the story play out on TV and what really intrigued me was even in professional politics we can't escape "bro" culture. I am not going to debate who I agree with or don't agree with but I can tell you when I commit to something I am all in. When we got 2 feet of snow during Blizzard 2013 and I had to shovel out my 30' of sidewalk and a 6 car driveway it took me about 16 working hours to do it. I worked to the point of exhaustion and hemorrhoids, I have the bloody undies to prove it. There was a job to get done and while it was hard I pushed through (literally) and got it done. In the end I looked at the massive snow piles, my clean driveway and sidewalk and I felt good that I achieved what I set out to do.

During Mr Rands filibuster he allowed his bro's to step in and help him out. He was joined by fellow Republican Senators mostly who asked Sen. Paul many questions which allowed him to enjoy a Milky Way, Senator Ted Cruz jumped in to read Tweets and give him another break. This to me was the true definition of bro's helping bro's and it's not a bad thing, when a bro's blood sugar gets low it's time to read tweets. After about 13 hours Sen. Paul ended the filibuster with a joke about having to go to the bathroom. Later he also later remarked "If I had planned to speak for 13 hours when I took the floor on Wednesday, I would've worn more comfortable shoes". Sen. Mark Rubio also jumped in to quote Wiz Khalifa, Jay Z and The Godfather. I am not sure any of these actions lead to really helping out their party, but A for effort right?

In the end it seemed that everyone involved gave themselves a big pat on the back, quoted some hip hop for street cred and got a lot of free publicity and momentum going into the next election. If I was ever given the opportunity to filibuster I would at least come in prepared to make my point and also go for the record set by Strom Thurmond. I would have consulted with my lesbian friends and borrowed a comfortable and sensible pair of Birkenstocks, I would have strapped on one of those Lisa Rinna approved adult diapers and happily pissed and/or shit my pants as needed. I would have not shut up while spitting out bits of Cliff Bars and Gatorade all over the Senate and I probably would have relied on my Bro's to back me up as well, but I wouldn't leave bitching about my sore feet. 

So what should we take away from all this? Is this a man standing up for what he believes in? Maybe. Is this a man standing up for his constituents? Maybe. Is this a Senator puling a stunt queen episode to get a little attention and some publicity? Probably. Should we always consult a lesbian when looking for sensible footwear, absolutely.  We should take away that lesbians know about smart footwear thank you Senator Rand.

This Week in TV with Robski

It's been a busy week in TV with the entertainment programs were detailing Taylor Swifts every cunty comment and Justin Beibers every douchey move. Sidebar: isn't it a shame these are the 2 biggest pop stars in the world right now I remember a day when a talented Miss Britney Jeans Spears asked us to hit her baby one more time or Ricky Martin was living the straight vida loca. A day when Christina Aguilera was thin and hot, and Jessica Simpson was more than a second rate shoe designer for Macy's. What happened to the classics? But I digress. TV was a buzz this week and I was there for some of it

The big story of the week was the History Channels epic The Bible. The show was a major hit for the network with over 13 million people tuning in to watch it. I was not one of the 13 million because the only fictional show I watch about someone dying and rising from the dead is The Walking Dead. Right now Bible related shows are hotter than hell (my other joke here was hotter than a priest alone with an alter boy but I thought that joke might seem a bit tasteless). There is a hot religion themed trend happening in television right now with a bible related game show on GSN, a reality show The Sisterhood on TLC about Preachers Wives and one called Preachers Daughters coming to Lifetime. Essentially what I am saying is I salute The Bible producer who is Survivor's Mark Burnett for noticing this trend and cashing in on it. The soundtrack tie-in on Itunes is way classy. I also Salute him for casting his wife Roma Downey as Mother Mary. I never met Mother Mary personally however I would guess Mother Mary was a stunning elegant lamb with a face pulled tighter than dick skin and lips overly injected with silicone only to allow Joseph a pillow to sleep on when there was no room at the inn. I don't recall the psalm of Botox in the bible, but it must have been there. 

 Also in TV this week we were treated to 3 nights of American Idol. This show is going down quicker than I did in the 90s for Madonna tickets that one time. In my opinion it was the same big karaoke fest with a few new judges. The first is a guy that looks like Ellen who offers boring advice but dazzles us with his arm tattoo's... so butch. There is Mariah Carey who patiently waits for her turn to speak which you can tell frustrates her. When it is her turn she has that pageant queen vacant look, you know the one where the other girls took her best answers so she kind looks like she has the farts for a second. Mariah is a pro so she always recovers then reminds us of her struggle "coming up" in the industry and how great she is. Randy is Randy which is fine, I can't fault this man as he played with Journey in the 80's and wore spandex doing so. Then there is Nicki Minaj who is actually very good judge. Nicki brings to the show a bit of crazy, a bit of reality some fantastic lace front wigs and in doing so she is the most interesting thing about the show, well next to Ryan Seacrests hair to Jesus of course. 

The Walking Dead gave us a great episode and some character development. I don't want to give away any spoilers but how can I fault an episode when one of it's main characters grabs a rainbow painted wooden cat and declares "It's too damn gorgeous". There is a lesson to be learned here, even during the zombie apocalypse there is always time for refined taste in home decor. I would assume years into a zombie apocalypse most of local Home Goods stores would have been looted over at this point leaving only Calvin Klein irregulars and Skinny Girl Appletini mix so I understand Michonne risking her life to add a little bit of fabulous to her everyday.


There were also a lot of other shows this week which played like background music and weren't very memorable, but what I took away this week is from coverage of a Pope stepping down in scandal, to hair to Jesus, to Mother Mary's Housewives of Beverly Hills makeover religion was big business. I am not a Hollywood insider but if I was one of those big Hollywood Jews I would be planning as many rip offs of The Bible as possible just to ride the trend and cash in on the all mighty buck. And as we all know the dollar bill does say right on it "in god we trust" so it seems like a natural cross promotion to me. Looking forward to Survivor: Bethlehem.

Best Supporting Actor Should Have Gone To #2

                                                 Reda Kateb. Great Actor.  Shown here with clean pants. Presumably. 

The 85^th Annual Academy Awards were held recently and it was a decent show. Seth Macfarlane hosted and did a decent job. Some great actors won some big awards. Some more deservedly than others. The majority of awards were handed out correctly in this bloggers opinion. “Argo” won best picture, Daniel-Day Lewis won best actor and Jennifer Lawrence won best actress. All of them were deserving of the praise heaped upon them. Even the intolerable Anne Hathaway was deserving of her best supporting actress award.

There was however one major award they got wrong. Best Supporting Actor. Now don't get me wrong, Christoph Waltz was mesmerizing in “Django Unchained”. It was a truly brilliant performance. The way the man speaks the Tarantino language is a thing of beauty. He was everything you would want in a movie character. He was the sort of “evil, good guy” character. A bounty hunter with little to no conscience, but yet clearly the good guy of the movie. He makes Tarantino dialogue sound downright Shakespearean. When I left the theater after seeing “Django”, I thought Waltz was a shoe-in for Supporting Actor. Despite winning the same award for his other Tarantino role in “Inglorious Basterds”, the Academy awarded him again. The Academy never does that. They finally got it right! Or so I thought. Until I saw “Zero Dark Thirty”.

Jason Clark as “Dan” the black site interrogator was very impressive. Kyle Chandler was convincing as the CIA director. “Stannis” from “Game of Thrones” had a few good scenes. Tony Soprano shows up. There were a lot of good acting performances. None were as impressive as the performance submitted by one Mr. Reda Kateb. It was the most impressive, believable and powerful performance of the year. Yet, nobody even mentions the guy.

***WARNING – SPOILERS AHEAD. OTHER THAN BIN LADEN DIES AT THE END*****

Reda Kateb plays Ammar, a terrorist in U.S. Custody being held at a CIA black site. The previously aforementioned “Dan” is there to interrogate him. And by interrogate, I mean torture the shit out of him. Literally. At one point, Ammar is being dangled from the ceiling by his wrists and “Dan” is letting him know that “Partial information will be treated as no information”. “Dan” lets him know that he is going to have to hurt him. As he picks up the dangling terrorist off the ground, he pulls down his knickers and reveals he has doodied in his pants. “Dan” then humiliates him further by pointing out, as if shocked, that the Al Quada man has pooped himself.

This guy ruins terrorist pants

And boy oh boy do they go for authenticity in this movie. When people are shot, it doesn't feel very Hollywood. People don't go flying or die dramatic deaths. They get shot and they're dead and thats it. It's not like shootings in “Django” where gallons and gallons of blood come spurting out of one bullet hole. It's very cold and it seemed incredibly real. So it should come as no surprise that it was a very realistic pants shitting scene. Kateb really sold it. When his pants come down and his terrorist butt cheeks appear, you can see the shit smeared across them. I mean, it was so real you could practically smell it. They went for such authenticity that you could see pieces of corn and everything. It was horrifying.

It makes you wonder if the guy is a method actor and perhaps actually shit himself. Did he go for it? Or did he have to stand up straight for a few hours in a make-up room while an artist craftfully painted the authentic appearance of real shit smear on his ass. Either way, this man had to stand in front of a camera with other actors and crew watching and show off his poop streaked derriere for all the world to see. That takes dedication. Robert Downey Jr. is one hell of a method actor and has probably shit his pants on multiple occasions, but I don't recall him having the dedication to show the evidence on camera. (Though one could argue he clearly had a dump in his pants throughout “Due Date”).

I wasn't upset about the torture. I'm all for doing what it takes to get information that could prevent terrorist attacks. I didn't feel bad for “Ammar” or any other tortured terrorist. I felt awful for Reda Kateb though. I mean, how does Katheryn Bigelow approach him about this scene? Does she knock on his trailer door, walk in, sit down and say “Hi Reda, you are doing some great work so far. Now tomorrow is the big pants shitting scene, are you ready?? Will you need a make-up artist or will you just eat at Chipotle tonight?”

                                                                            "I recommend extra beans Reda"

Whichever way he chose to go, he made the right call. The final result was a perfectly understated pants shitting. The man is a professional and deserves some credit. Shame on you academy and shame on you Christoph Waltz. When asked how he felt about winning his Best Actor award, Waltz mentioned how unbelievable it was to hear names like Robert DeNiro, Tommy Lee Jones, Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Alan Arkin called and then to hear his own name mixed in with those. Waltz should have apologized, chastised the academy and then pulled a Ving Rhames and given the trophy to Reta Kateb.