Picture of the Day

Say what you will about Eugene Levy's Siberian second cousin Wladimir Levy. But know that he is more than a man with a Canadian tuxedo and a Riker's Island smile. He's a man of conflicting dualities. He's filled with a jarringly potent zeal for his pursuits and hobbies. Yet ironically, those loves of his life also plague him, haunting his soul like the 8-armed ghost of Lenin that chokes him in his dream every night for being a Western sympathizer. But life isn't all about keytars, pelting, and sex crimes. So every year, during the rising blood moons of the dark season, Wlad retreats to his family compound nestled deep in the bandit and wolf-plagued forests due east of the cursed sulfur mines of Petetrotsdokivalavakia. There, and only there, Wlad can be Wlad. And once that iron door is bolted, it's crying time.

Coincidentally, the compound happens to be the only place that the ghosts of Vidal Sassoon's modeling agency can properly be summoned through the haunted phonograph inherited from his dead uncle. (Who everyone knows was totally a vampire, but don't tell Wlad, he's sensitive about it. Keep that one on the D.L. Hughley, komrades.)

Fuck the B-b-b-b-bank!!!

Sweet Debate Skills

Yeah, who is the "real" Batman?

Save the Pandas

What is it about pandas that turns ordinary zoo-goers into crazy cat ladies? Seriously people, you're extreme devotion is frightening these gentle creatures.



(elephant pandas via dailymail)

I wore the glove for weeks on end as a kid.

Rest in peace, you crazy genius. You invented the moonwalk, the music video, and did a lot of other things that are far more awesome than I can put into words.With the help of Ed McMahon I can only imagine the intro you're going to get when you meet the Chairman of Cloud City himself. But I'll always remember you fondly as one of the pioneers of monkeys for helping.

Oh, and let us not forget Bubbles. You are a monkey, but I salute you like a man of honor. How you managed to stay cool while MJ dressed you like Duke Leto Atreides is beyond me.

Picture of the Day

I always knew there was a strong correlation between being Gangster and wearing Mom jeans. I finally have the proof I need to validate my theory. Go me! But the real winners in this picture are clearly Easy-E and Dre, simply for the fact that they have their own personal timekeepers. Look at them. They're flanking them like Imperial Guards watching Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. And the ice jawed mean mugging is just preposterous. It's like they're having a coolest person competition and Cube and the other guy are their surly corner men with hearts of gold.

Call Brookstone, because I have a horribly impractical idea to pitch them. Don't front. You would Uzi babies to own a piece from the "Nightstands With Attitudes" collection. You don't need to be Billy fucking Mays to see the brilliance of it.

Lasers + Math = Science

My name is Recon, and I have a binge and purge relationship with internetting. It's the truth, Ruth. I'm like a nerd version of Karen Carpenter, minus the gigantic eyes and platinum records. (Editors' note: I think Karen Carpenter had Anorexia, and not Bulimia, which makes what I just said pointless. But that's the point, I guess. Flip it upside down and shake it till the crazy starts bubbling. This isn't a Science journal. Go laser up some math blogs if you want to read things based on logic, fact, reason, or purpose. Around these parts we call them the 4 elements of boredom. I choose instead to bear my heart to the world (fig. A), rules and regs be darned.

(fig. A: DMT? Greg Allman. Greg Allman? DMT.)

That's a bit harsh. Sorry, Science. Please don't strike me down with your demonic forces of devilry and witchfulness. I know you control everything. From the fingers on my paws to the synapses in my melon to the gold in my teeth..even down to the subtle yet profound sexiness lying just beneath the surface of my modest clothes. You are, unequivocally, the motherfucking force. So naturally I respect you, even if I don't fully understand or even like you. I know you connect us all, and bind us cosmically in a symbiotic relationship that defines explanation yet somehow makes sense on a sub-conscious, molecular level inside my weary man bones . You're like the mustaches and ties adorning the faces of the members of the 1976 Swedish music group we call Planet Earth.

In a nutshell, (but still outside the box), you're doing a great job, and studies done by studiers say that 9 out of 10 humans love you for it. Not to mention you are huge in the robot community. Which plays with nerds. So you see, we've come full circle. So everyone wins, including myself. And any game I win is the best kind of game. PS: lightning is awesome. Way to go with that stuff. I mean, wow.

Breaking News

It's one thing to faint in the middle of a broadcast but for the entire set to fall on you afterwards? Priceless. Don't worry though; she's OK.

She is trying so hard but her cohost isn't making things any easier with his steely eyes and deadpan delivery.

Poised for the Planets

I'm sorry but I simply cannot allow this image to pass down the tumbleblog conveyor without comment. It took me a good five minutes and some ice water to the face to even begin to appreciate what's happening here.

To start, what the hell was the person who designed this cover listening to because it sure as sherbet wasn't The Planets. A little disco, a little go-go, some Egyptian gear, mix in some heroin... yeah that sounds about right for a grandiose orchestral suite.

But, most striking is the pizazz with which Gustav successfully deploys the rare but effective knee high sandals. A lesser man, such as myself, would never think it possible to pull off that look but combining it with blue tights and pink leotard? I applaud you, sir.

I do have one minor qualm, Mr. Holst. Did you have to hit Charlize Theron so much? After all, an actress as good as she is should be able to capture the spirit of "The Planets" without so much abuse. I understand the whole method acting thing but I don't think she even knows where she is anymore.

On the off chance that you're cognizant, Charlize, there is one thing I must say. If you're going to flash me, then go ahead and flash me. Don't think that you're going to get away with the half-flash by wearing tan tights, panties that cover "just enough", and a skirt merely for back up. You're not fooling anyone. I mean wearing a short skirt is coy, wearing your skirt like a belt goes quite beyond that. On the subtlety scale, that move rates a solid Michael Bay.

(via cache.io9.com)

Real Life Mecha

Carlos Owens, an army mechanic in Wasilla, Alaska, has built his own giant robot mecha. He climbs inside and the robot mimics his movements using a system of steel cables and hydraulics.


I don't know about you but when creatures of anime start walking the earth, my first instinct is to build a 50s buzz cut dad style bomb shelter, stock it with Ding Dongs and wait out the inevitable fall of humanity. But, on that other hand, someone is finally prepared to tangle with Robosaurus when he escapes his handlers at the monster truck rally.

(via popsci.com)

Picture of the Day

Attention EVERYONE: he's for hire. Ferrari Guy can be yours for 300 dollars an hour. Oh man. I can't wait to see the faces on the people at the Street Fighter costume party after the vicious one-upping I serve them when I arrive as Ken Masters accompanied by my authentic American video game stereotype Hollywood agent to complete the look. If Sega's "Outrun" had a boss stage, this guy would be the slightly weaker boss you have to fight right before facing him. (The secret to beating him is punching him in the cocaine.)

I'm no math engineer, but I bet he could kill those people in the distance with the power of his screams.

(via always dope blog bredren Craplinks)

Internet is powered by lasers.

Well I guess it hasn't been that dramatic, but life has been busy. At least by my standards. This new internship is awesome but regrettably cuts deeply into my scheduled internet research time. In fact the only thing I've used my computer for lately is to make this:

Perverts or not, they look like they can trigger at least 11 pop disco explosions with their hash infused musical prowess. Music is boss. That's the other thing I've been doing on the computer lately, listening to Mantis and Mo's mixes over at LaModa. Their musical technotronic sets are, to quote the late great FDR, "The tits". Go browse their intersite portal if you are like me and enjoy the DJ music. We must do our part to support DJ culture.*

"Jams" (pictured here being pumped up. )

I've also been working on my Ferris Bueler/bobcat impression.

What do you think? I imagine it's what John Hughes's spirit animal must looks like.

Besides that I've been doing what every other nerd does in the off-season..



hanging with the homies



learning about my forefathers



doubling my pleasure and my fun



doing squats with Border Collies



eating "rap-style"



and patiently waiting for my gravy train to arrive.

In closing, here's something weird. I think it's from the future. Or at least the year 1999 as imagineered by cocaine-fueled 1983 racquetball visionaries.

(links via yayhooray, fffound, cute overload, and EIT)

The Batman's Pimphand

It starts now!

Are you ready for the blast?

u-betcha!

SHAZAM!

Click on the picture to see the larger version

LOL!!!!