Saturday, August 11, 2007subscribe to demonbaby

Weird Shit From Russia!

[Currently Listening To: Talking Heads - Remain in Light]

By now it's no secret that I spend a lot of time traversing the globe. I've been to a lot of countries, and seen the type of cool shit you expect to see in foreign lands - old buildings, exotic food, etc. But since I'm always traveling on business, finding myself in major cities with little time to thoroughly explore, my favorite way of discovering other countries has been to mine them for weird shit. The States have become such a wasteland of blandness, such a vapid expanse of corporate sameness, that any opportunity I can find to score some strange foreign crap is more than welcome. To that end, something I often find dismaying about the world outside of America (here's a handy map for those of you confused as to what that might be) is the alarming lack of weird shit. The angry beast of globalization has spread its red-white-and-blue blandness across the earth with insatiable aggression, ensuring that in exotic-sounding places like, say, Budapest, where I am right now, there's still a Burger King down the street, The Simpsons Movie at the local cinema (in English), Coke Zero in the vending machines, and "My Humps" playing loudly on the radio. Like cultural HIV, America continues to spread unfettered.

I love Japan because it's one of the few places I've been to whose uniqueness seems impervious to the American disease, managing to filter U.S. influence through its own bizarre cultural lens and present it as something entirely its own. And for the same reason, it was a pleasure to recently visit Russia for the first time, and find with much relief that there still is some weird shit in Europe after all (although the rest of Europe likes to exclude Russia from the precious title of "European," geography places Moscow and St. Petersburg firmly within the boundaries of the European continent).

To an American, Russia seems a strange and backwards place - a country struggling to get its shit together after centuries of chaos and turmoil. Things don't seem to work the way they should, no one seems to have discovered deodorant, and you are warned from the beginning that corruption is rampant: Stay inside the main cities, because more or less anything goes in the outskirts, and you're likely to be kidnapped. Keep your passport on you, because if you get stopped by the corrupt police and don't have it, they might kidnap you. Don't take taxis, because many of them aren't real taxis, and they'll kidnap you. We had to fly from Moscow to St. Petersburg instead of driving, because on the country highways, sometimes you'll find a broken down truck blocking the road. Stop and get out to help, and you'll be met by men with guns, who will kidnap you. Kidnapping is apparently all the rage in Russia. It's also, by its nature, a terrifying concept, mostly because it's so vague. The term "kidnapping" describes only the act of being taken away itself, and leaves the rest of your life after that point open to any sort of possibility. Will you get killed? Anally raped? Held for ransom? Sold into prostitution? The future is an open book! With all of that in mind, I stuck to the central parts of Moscow and St Petersburg, and found them to be refreshingly nice places, especially for a country that completely collapsed a couple decades ago. Sure, you can't drink the tap water, but come on - baby steps.

So now, sit back, and let me now take you on a wonderfully xenophobic tour of the strangest moments from my extremely brief and limited Russian experience. For your enjoyment, I've decorated this post with deliciously homoerotic stickers I found of this mulleted Russian pop star. Mullets, by the way, are still high fashion in Russia. Anyway, let's begin...

The People.................

There are a handful of stereotypes about Russian people, and at least one of them is true: those fuckers like to drink. As soon as they get off work - and sometimes before they get off work - they flood outdoor gathering areas and chug beer and vodka on the streets like there's no tomorrow. On my first night in Moscow, while walking through an underground passage near Red Square, my friend and I encountered an absurdly drunk Russian dude, dancing to terrible techno music and shouting loudly. He was wearing one of those big furry Russian hats, and his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his pasty, sweaty gut, which jiggled as he danced. This is him:

drunk russian dude

He leapt in front of me and yelled something about Russia. He seemed to desire some sort of response, but I can understand Russian about as well as I can menstruate, so I was clueless. In a situation like that, what else could I do? I handed my camera to my friend, and started an impromptu Russian dance party. Homeboy put his big furry Russian hat on me, and for approximately forty five seconds, we partied like few have partied before. Scope the unbelievably hot dance moves:

That was pretty much the high point of my entire time in Russia.

The Food.................

I'm still not exactly sure what exactly constitutes Russian food, but expectedly, meat plays a heavy role. So how could I pass up a restaurant with an incredibly straightforward sign like this one?

a lot of meat

As soon as we saw that, there wasn't really any other option for lunch that day. Inside, the waiters wore strange fur hunting outfits, and every wall was decorated eerily with dead animals and primitive weapons. The whole place was a sort of morbid celebration of carnivores where animals stared at you while you ate their relatives. Near our table were creepy squirrels on the wall, and a genuinely terrifying wolf:

The selection of meat on the menu was no less bizarre than the decorations:

I was going to avoid stating the obvious, but fuck it: "Beaver with cowberry sauce" might be the best new euphemism for a menstruating vagina since "muff marinara." And of course, I tried it. When it Rome, right? Bear was actually my first choice, but they were out. Big rush on bear. So beaver it was. You're probably wondering what cowberry sauce is, and I'm afraid that after eating it I'm no closer to having an answer for you. I can, however, assure you that beaver meat is without question the most nauseatingly awful thing I have ever had the misfortunate of putting in my mouth. I've eaten some gnarly shit in my time, and I have a seemingly iron-clad stomach when it comes to weird food, but this time I nearly puked before the meat even hit my throat. It was impressively terrible. It tasted like disease. Like pure, miserable death. Pretty much what I imagine rat meat tastes like. So, lesson learned: If you ever see beaver on the menu and you're feeling adventurous (or just want an excuse to make a sophomoric sexual pun), don't do it. You will be very sorry. Try the wild boar instead.

The Arts.................

One of my favorite things in Russia is how they've adapted the beloved tradition of the matryoshka - the Russian nesting dolls - for the 21st century. In Russian souvenir stands, the variety of hand-painted matryoshkas ranges from quaint and traditional to utterly, fantastically bizarre. Consider, for example, my new prized possession, the George W. Bush Russian Doll - complete with the "I'm a fucking tool" cowboy hat that characterizes our great President so very well:

That's just the beginning, though. Strangely, Osama Bin Laden has been immortalized in Matryoshka form, with other terrorists and dictators nesting inside him:

You can also find dolls for various Soviet dictators, British and French politicians, and even a Bill Clinton matryoshka with a doll inside for each of his many women. None of them, however, can compete with the selection of dolls from the music world:

The greatest compliment I can give the Russian artisans who created this unique masterpiece is that they have captured with alarming accuracy the spiritual essence of Freddie Mercury's overwhelming gayness. You can almost smell the butt sex. Here's another stunning masterpiece:

When I was a wee child, if a magical fairy had come down from the stars and told me that some day, my journey through life would somehow bless me with a genuine traditional matryoshka doll adorned with a hand-painted portrait of Jon Bon Jovi in all his trashy 1980's glory, and that if I cracked him open it would reveal yet another doll featuring Richie Sambora's stupid fat face, I would have said "No, magical fairy, you are a liar, for I could not imagine a life so good for myself." And yet, here I am. But alas, it gets even better. For even as I delighted in the glory of the Bon Jovi Russian doll, I knew not that my next discovery would be...


Look at it! Feast upon its greatness!! My favorite part is how only the last and tiniest doll portrays Michael when he was still black.

If my funds had been unlimited, I probably would have bought every bizarre Russian doll the country had to offer. Some of the other ones I saw included Britney Spears, Elvis, Metallica, Kobe Bryant, Madonna, AC/DC, Depeche Mode, and many more.

Assorted Weird Shit.................

Here are some miscellaneous photos of weird shit from Russia:

These are some super cool Russian music dudes. Most importantly, check the terrifying guy at the top. He wants to eat your soul.

It was really nice of Kevin Smith to lend a hand on the bongos, too.

Loosely translated, this Russian t-shirt says "I don't drink with gays." Tied with this for best Russian t-shirt ever.

Speaking of homophobia, it's ironic that the Russian police force, often criticized for violence and discrimination against gays, has "HOMO" written backwards on all their uniforms. LOL @ TEH HOMO PATROL!!!!1

I guess Jessica Simpson has fallen on hard times lately, as she's apparently been forced to take up work as a Russian escort.

This is my new favorite drink.

Here's a strange and incredibly unpleasant-looking trans-species stuffed animal, which I can't imagine has any effect other than to frighten children.

Look how tough this dude thinks he is with his Yoda tattoo.

This is a statue that was on the street. Children were getting their pictures taken with it.

Like Germany, there's a lot of highly questionable fashion in Russia. I saw more than a few women dressed like my Grandma's couch.

Well, that just about concludes our tour of Russia. I'm confident that it accurately represented all aspects of the entire country. If for some reason you want more, I took some arty tourist photos of Moscow and St. Petersburg and put them up here. They're actually very beautiful cities.

And before I go, please enjoy the unique musical stylings of an old Russian dude playing Celine Dion on a saw, interrupted by a strange dancing man:

EDIT: I can't believe I forgot about this - just a few hours after my tragic encounter with beaver meat, I saw this t-shirt at a souvenir stand. I have no idea what it says (my bet is on sexual innuendo), but it was so eerily appropriate I had to pick it up:

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Monday, June 11, 2007subscribe to demonbaby

More Curiosities From Japan's Porno Shops

[Currently Listening To: UNKLE - War Stories]

Tokyo's Akihabara neighborhood is a sort of Mecca for consumerist nerds. Anyone obsessed, as I am, with toys and gadgets, electronics and video games, robots and action figures would be hard pressed to find a greater place to whittle away their life savings. Last month, I lost myself in Akihabara's endless neon labyrinth of awesomeness for many hours, dashing around wide-eyed like a kid in a candy store. Every corner I turned in every shop was a new discovery of some wonderful thing that I desperately needed more than anything else in the world, although I hadn't known it until then. I left that shiny paradise a much poorer man than I had entered - but I didn't leave it without another trip to the legendary seven-floor adult superstore I discovered two years ago on my last trip to Japan. And since the bizarre treasures I brought home from that trip proved so popular, I figured it's time for another round of show and tell from the the dark, horny underbelly of Tokyo.

It's unfortunate that the giant porn store doesn't allow photographs, because it's hard to capture the uniquely creepy atmosphere with words alone. I think most Americans feel a bit uncomfortable browsing any sex shop, but Japan turns the Weird-O-Meter up a few notches, especially in this store. As with any shop in Tokyo, space counts, so an impressive amount of merchandise has been Tetrissed into narrow little aisles. Any amount of foot traffic in the store makes it extremely difficult to move around, forcing you to silently negotiate an awkwardly physical passage with anyone in your way as you attempt to navigate the claustrophobic walkways. This means you'll have to acknowledge the Japanese businessman carefully studying a strap-on dildo far more intimately than you'd probably prefer.

To make things worse, the store is almost dead silent, except for the bondage floor, where the unnerving soundtrack is the signature high-pitched wail of a Japanese woman crying and screaming from horrors unknown. Unknown, at least, until you notice the television in the back corner, where said Japanese woman, her naked body dripping in hot wax, is being led around someone's basement on all fours by a leash. Her endless crying would seem to be the result of the thirty or so metal clamps attached mercilessly to exactly the last parts of one's body most people would ever choose to clamp. Behind the cash register, polaroid pictures cover the wall the way a New York deli would post pictures of celebrities who had stopped in for a bite to eat. Except, instead of pictures of the cashier giving thumbs up next to Jay Leno or Regis Philbin, these are pictures of the cashier tied up and ball-gagged, bent over with a leather-clad woman sticking various objects into his hairy Japanese ass. It seemed the photos were souvenirs from some sort of bondage party held by people who work at the store. I was never more thankful for the Japanese aversion to touching hands when exchanging money.

Unfortunately, most of the weird new treasures I found this time around were too expensive to buy, and I couldn't photograph them in the store. But alas, through the magical tubes of the internets I was able to find pictures and even links for almost everything I saw, so let's begin the tour...

The Plasma Sperm

The Plasma Sperm is a home microscope kit designed especially for men to view their little testicular tadpoles up close and personal. That's right boys - next time you blow a load all over your stomach looking at celebrity nip slip galleries, don't reach for that dirty gym sock - reach for the Plasma Sperm, and see how your little swimmers are holding up.

I actually bought one of these, but it was a gag gift for a friend, so I was sadly unable to personally test out this ingenious device. However, from the looks of it there seems to be nothing to differentiate it from any other home microscope, save the spectacular packaging.

Unable to read Japanese, I can't exactly tell you what their selling points are with this thing, beyond the irresistible novelty of seeing the would-be offspring you've sentenced to death by Kleenex. This website seems to be selling the Plasma Sperm as a cost effective tool for men with potentially low sperm counts who are trying to conceive a child. But since I don't know Japanese, I'll turn to Google's trusty translator for help:
"This actualizing price low with the contents which are the high function where also the professional is surprised! [sutairiishiyu] design the near future forum the [ku] the [ri] increases the intellectual search heart of the man immediately. In present! In experiment! In investigation! The door to the micro which participates with all scenes."

Ah, that explains it!

Strange Masturbatory Devices

Last time I told you (in way too much detail) about the popular Japanese "vagina-in-a-can," or Vagican, or Cangina as it was later coined. You can see a wide variety of Vagicans on this page. The Vagican is an unapologetically economical masturbatory solution, and thus lacks some of the bells and whistles of more elaborate artificial vaginas. That's where the Vagican Vibrator comes in:

Just insert your favorite Cangina into the machine, and instantly you have a vibrating Cangina! It's kind of like an erotic paint shaker. The translation calls it the "Electric Man," and the best part is that it's not just for Canginas - it's also for rubber hands, creating an amazing vibrating handjob machine:

Or if that looks a little too vanilla, try this uncomfortable-looking ball-grabbing device - I call it "The Clapper":

Anime Love Dolls

One of the more interesting new additions at the sex shop was a section of life-sized love dolls. Love dolls are a sex toy staple around the world, but like everything else, Japan adds its own creepy twists - like favoring plush dolls that look like pubescent anime characters:

The product page for this doll details its eerie face, which will be staring blankly through you as you make love to its unique interchangeable vagina. An interchangeable vagina, you say? How does it work? Once again, Google Translator explains:
When the underpants are made to disperse, the hole for hole installing opens. Because hole hole diameter 45×30mm is small, “the love body Kumi private hole” of selling separately is agreeable.

I see... But what I want to know is how do you wash something like this? It's plush, which is fabric, so there's going to be a certain amount of absorbency when it's exposed to, say, the various excretions of a profusely sweating overweight Japanese man crushing poor Kumi under his weight as he furiously pumps his hairy little ding-dong into her "private hole." It sounds like a recipe for something that doesn't smell very good after a few uses.

If you're looking for something more realistic terrifying, you might want to try this... thing:

This lovely armless lass and her friends (seen at the top of the page) come permanently fixed in a pose that never says no, and an interchangeable face only a serial killer could love:

It also is home to the world's least sexy artificial vagina:

This comic, from the detail page, explains everything you need to know about these high-tech artificial orifices:

These dolls are highly customizable, so if you want to channel your inner psychopath by taking off the doll's limbs, reducing its breasts to undeveloped nubs, dressing it in little girl underwear and giving it a face that says "please Daddy don't touch me there" - you're in luck!

Most terrifying of all is this thing, a doll that should be murdering people in a bad '80's horror movie, not being lusted after by lonely Japanese men:

This doll has, according to its translated page, an artificial hymen for you to break. They really did think of everything, didn't they?

All of the above dolls are fairly deluxe, and will run you into the hundreds of dollars. But if you're on a budget and still need something life-size you can desperately pretend is a real woman, check out the wide variety of weird blow-up dolls. Thankfully, they still retain the creepy anime face:

And, if you're on even more of a budget, you might just want specific parts - like a personal titty-fucker, or a grotesquely hairy rubber rear end vagina thing, or a pocket anus, or a curious little guy I like to call "The Pirana Plant".

Something For The Ladies

Fear not girls, Japan hasn't left you out, and it understands that your desire to masturbate can happen suddenly, where you least expect it. That's why you need to carry your vibrator discreetly - say, disguised as a zuccini, or better yet, an ear of corn:

No one will think it's weird if they see an ear of corn in your purse. Or a carrot, or a banana.

If vegetables aren't your thing, maybe fingers are. Not just any fingers - vibrating fingers molded directly from the hands of a famous Japanese actor - specifically, this guy:

Oh, and in case you were worried, Japan is still the leading producer of the world's cutest vibrators:

Capsule Figures

Toy figures definitely aren't just for kids in Japan. Like last time, I tried my luck in one of the adult-themed capsule toy machines. This time I got a tiny plastic tied-up girl, complete with a box of "accessories" (for size reference, those are laptop keyboard keys behind her):

As strange as it is, the attention to detail is impressive. The girl's box of fun includes what must be the world's smallest sex toys - several dildos, a butt plug, a speculum, anal beads, and the always useful bottle of lube:

All that's missing is a miniature butt funnel.

Well, that's all for this year. For more from Japan's dirty side, keep exploring this site, or just go here and cry yourself to sleep tonight.

P.S. - Even though it's better suited for my previous entry, I can't help but include this Japanese man wearing boobs on his nose. Because Japanese men with boob noses are always funny:

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Thursday, June 07, 2007subscribe to demonbaby

Japan Super Happy Fun Time First Part! Mega Fun Costume Party Explosion!!

[Currently Listening To: Queens Of The Stone Age - Era Vulgaris]

If you've been here a while, you're probably aware of my love affair with Japan - in particular my keen interest in its unnatural abundance of weird shit. I'm far from being one of those mouth-breathing gaijin boys who immerses himself in anime, jacks off to tentacle porn, and is known by a Japanese nickname on internet forums (okay, maybe once I jacked off to tentacle porn, but I swear I was drunk); I just find Japan to be an incredible place with a culture so unique and far-removed from Western sensibilities that it can truly feel like a different planet. Most importantly though, everything in Japan just seems like a lot more fun. Hell, even parking is more fun in Japan.

We dined at a popular theme restaurant called The Lockup, where you are handcuffed and escorted to a prison cell to dine in. Skulls decorate the dungeon-esque walls, and specialty drinks come in syringes and test tubes. We found many, many arcades (long dead in the States, but thriving in Japan) with amazingly sophisticated photo sticker booths, which resulted in grotesquely awesome pictures like these:

I should add those aren't Photoshopped in any way at all - that's exactly how they come out of the photo booth after some fun touch-screen customization. Why we don't have shit like that over here is beyond baffling to me.

Of course, the best part for a nerd like me is the toys. Japan, without question, is home to the coolest and widest selection of toys in the world. So cool, in fact, that some of the toy stores have to be guarded by giant terrifying Japanese puppy monsters:

I went to several multi-level toy stores, notably Hakuhinkan in Ginza, and Kiddy Land in Harajuku, trying to keep my bank account in tact as I gazed in wonder at the endless aisles of incredibly cool stuff. At Hakuhinkan, a whole aisle of goofy Japanese masks and party outfits revealed that Japanese costume parties are probably way more fun than American ones - if for no other reason than the strange popularity of creepy drag costumes for Japanese men:

Although, far scarier is this Japanese Michael Jackson costume I found:

When I was a kid I loved Michael Jackson so much that I dressed up like him for Halloween one year. It's scary to think that my six year old self adored Jacko so much, that if I'd somehow met him, he probably could have talked me into letting him touch my peepee with minimal hassle - no Jesus Juice required. Call me a cheap date.

Anyway, in looking at some of the pictures I took of the costumes, I noticed a web site listed for the manufacturer. That led me to the oddly-named JIG Paradise, a Japanese costume catalog with the most incredible assortment of funny/creepy photos of costumed Japanese men perhaps ever assembled. For example, check out Japanese Britney Spears, looking almost as ugly as the real thing:

Japanese and rockabilly always make for humorously awkward bedfellows:

Even common costume fodder like the trusty "muscle chest" outfit seems much more exciting in a Japanese package:

And then there's these guys:

The costume on the left, in case you're wondering, is a takoyaki - a fried octopus ball - a hugely popular Japanese snack, and a gooey, vomit-enducing nightmare to even the most daring Western tastebuds.

But if that's all a bit too mainstream, maybe you want to attend your next costume party as a cannibalistic turnip, or a... red... thing? What's that meant to be on the right?

And for that matter, what the hell are these costumes? Other than some kind of tree from a Dr. Seuss book, I can't even guess what these might be:

Strangely, the most popular costume in Japan seems to be the simply-titled "party costume":

The party costume a one-piece, one-color outfit worn by dancing, large-headed men whose little ding-dongs poke out playfully from underneath:

Add some metallic colors and face paint, and you get something straight out of my nightmares:

What would you do if those two dudes on the right approached you in a dark alley, just smiling, saying nothing? I would pee in my pants and sob uncontrollably is what I would do. I expect to see them showing up in the next David Lynch movie.

Spend some time browsing around "JIG Paradise" for more awesome photos - they even have costumes for your penis:

Damnit Japan, you've really thought of everything.

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Friday, June 01, 2007subscribe to demonbaby

The Reports Of My Death Are Greatly Exaggerated

[Currently Listening To: Blonde Redhead - 23]

Contrary to what the lack of updates on this site might suggest, and what some commenters have begun to postulate, I am not, in fact, dead. I was in Europe for two months during the winter, and that almost killed me, and then I was in Australia for a while with giant deadly crocodiles who could have killed me, and I just got back from Japan where someone once tried to kill me, and all the time in between I've had a tremendous workload which is probably some day going to kill me. But I'm not dead yet, I simply haven't found the time to ramble about anything of merit, and I prefer, perhaps to a fault, not to update unless I feel like I have something to say and the time to do it right. So like an abusive boyfriend, I'm back again with my usual apology post, complete with an assurance that I really do love you, and a hollow promise that it'll never happen again. Really. Things are gonna be different this time, I swear it...

Okay, great, now that that's out of the way, let's catch up. If I had written any blogs in the past few months, they might have touched upon some of the following subjects:

1) Last month I found myself in the stunning Australian rainforest, shortly after I'd spent a couple days overdosing on the BBC's equally stunning Planet Earth series (which I can't recommend enough, especially in high definition). All of it got me thinking a lot about the complexity of nature: the delicate balance of ecosystems, the relationship of predator and prey, the synergy of thousands of species... and more specifically, how humans, as a species, simply don't seem to fit in with everything else. We upset the balance instead of keeping it intact. We seem to operate outside of and in conflict with the circle of life. It's like we're some kind of mistake. I've ranted in the past about humanity being a virus, but all this nature thinking has led me to a more scientific theory about the origins of mankind: It's too complex to get into right now, but what it boils down to is that human beings didn't evolve the way they were supposed to. We were meant to be ape-like cavemen for hundreds of millions of years, living in synergy with our environment and other species. Taking only what we needed, adapting to the earth instead of forcing the earth to adapt to us. But along the way, something intervened. The real missing link isn't Lucy, but rather a group of horny alien teenagers who stopped by earth three million years ago for a weekend trip, despite strict intergalactic codes prohibiting unauthorized travel to our galaxy. These disobedient astral travelers landed their spaceship in Africa, busted out a space keg, and got super wasted. At the peak of their intoxication, a curious female Australopithecus emerged from the jungle. She was in heat, and approached the aliens without fear. Dares were inevitably made, and in a fumbling two minutes of drunken inter-species lust, the human race was born. I'm working on a whole new religion based on this idea absolute truth. After all, it's more plausible than a giant man in the sky creating the world in six days.

2) I posted some tourist photos from my recent travels here in case anyone's interested. I also updated the playlist on the right side of the page, and will do so again next week.

3) Since pop culture insists on continuing to play limbo with the bar of taste, and no one seems to mind, I'm going to start a regular new award - The Demonbaby Embarrassing New Low in Pop Culture Award. The inaugural trophy goes to my old friends The Red Hot Chili Peppers for their latest musical flatulence, "Hump de Bump." It might be the worst song/video combo attack in the history of music. See if you can watch the whole thing without trying to tear your skin off. I'll take this opportunity to add that The Red Hot Chili Peppers are an utterly, utterly shitty band, and anyone still trying to cling to the idea that there's anything good about them is an idiot. Please, RHCP fans, watch that video and try - just try - to defend it.

4) Spider-Man 3 sucked a wet slimy ballsack. Walking out of the cinema my initial reaction was "eh, that was pretty mediocre," but the more I thought about it, the more I realized what a steaming turd of disappointment it actually was. Thanks to Peter Parker's whiney emo doucheness, I had to spend ninety percent of the movie looking at giant, horrifying close-ups of Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst's weird shitty faces contorted and crying (it's not just me - they are getting strangely uglier, right?), and the other ten percent lamenting how the coolest Spidey villain of all time now has the face and voice of the dweeb from That '70's Show. Dear Sam Raimi: Please let me direct the next Spider-Man movie. I'll call it Spider-Man 4: Venom Kills Shit, and it'll be the best movie of all time. In case you doubt me, here is a plot summary:
For the sake of continuity with the previous movie, the opening scene - the very first second of the movie - will be Kirsten Dunst spontaneously combusting in a glorious explosion of guts and bones. Peter Parker, douche that he is, is stricken with grief and begins sobbing uncontrollably. We cut away quickly, alluding that Peter will be crying for at least a month, and is no longer in the movie. In the next scene, thirty seconds into the film, we see the new Venom - a giant, slobbering monster who in no way, shape, or form resembles any member of the cast of That 70's Show. He rampages around the city destroying everything in sight and violently killing and maiming everyone. He is pure, terrifying evil. He eats children whole and throws semi trucks at elderly people. He plays baseball with puppies. He goes to the cancer department at the Children's Hospital and laughs at the kids with cancer, then kills their entire families, breaks all the chemo machines, and leaves the children alive to die slow, terrible deaths without any hope. The military tries to stop him but all of their troops are in the middle east, so they're helpless against Venom's awesome destructive powers. His rampage goes on for well over an hour, growing increasingly violent and horrific. We then cut to Dr. Conners in his laboratory, where he finally turns into The Lizard, and he starts eating his university students one by one. His students all happen to be hot, barely-legal girls in schoolgirl outfits, but The Lizard can't digest clothing, so he has to rip the schoolgirl outfits off the girls one by one to prepare them for eating. It takes a long time to ingest a whole person, so while he's busy eating the first naked schoolgirl, the rest of them - trapped in the classroom and awaiting certain doom - decide to spend their last moments of life in a passionate lesbian orgy. This goes on for another hour, until Venom breaks into the room and attacks The Lizard. The two monsters fight, and in the carnage they stumble into the adjacent room, which happens to be the new laboratory of Wayne Szalinski, Rick Moranis's character from the epic trilogy of Honey, I Shrunk The Kids, Honey, I Blew Up The Kid, and Honey, We Shrunk Ourselves. Szalinski is at that very moment testing his new and improved growth machine. Venom and The Lizard stumble into the machine's powerful ray and Szalinski jumps in to try and stop them, but he slips and accidentally kicks the lever on the machine that turns it up to "Super Duper Strength." The machine goes wild, rattling and spraying sparks, before a burst of light makes everything in the immediate area grow five hundred times larger, and gives them super duper strength. The rest of the movie is an epic battle royale between a giant lizard man, a giant homicidal monster, a giant hot naked girl, and a giant, mutated, naked Rick Moranis with a penis the size of a bus. The four giants do battle in New York City and destroy everything and everyone. The battle rages on for two hours (extended to three hours in the DVD Special Edition Director's Cut), ending in the complete decimation of the entire United States. In the final scene, the giants realize they should stop fighting and instead devote their energy to destroying every person on the planet, and then use the combined scientific knowledge of Dr. Conners and Wayne Szalinski to create a new race of giant reptile people. The giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirl complains that she will be lonely in a world of giant reptile people, so they agree to also create a race of giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirls. This keeps the door wide open for the sequel: Spider-Man 5: War Of The Giants, in which, years later, tensions between the giant lizard people and the giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirls finally reach a breaking point, resulting in a massive war. After several hours of epic battles and the destruction of the entire world, the giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirls have retreated to their base on Mars, facing defeat at the hands of the giant lizard people. They build an army of giant robots to defeat the giant lizard people, and the movie ends with the giant robots blowing up the earth and the giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirls living happily ever after on Mars with their new giant robot servants. Then, in Spider-Man 6: Revenge Of The Robots, the giant robot army grows self-aware (as robots always do) and retaliates against its giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirl masters. The result is an epic battle resulting in robot domination and the enslavement of the giant hot naked lesbian schoolgirls. The dominance of robots for the rest of time seems all but assured, until the very end, when a mysterious signal from outer space leaves the movie open for the next sequel, Spider-Man 7: Robots And Aliens Battle For Control Of The Universe. A highly advanced race of aliens has traveled millions of light years to investigate the strange radiation their long-range sensors detected after the nuclear explosion of the earth. They are met with aggression from the giant robots, and the most epic of all battles begins between giant robots and giant space aliens.

So, yeah. I'll be awaiting your call, Mr. Raimi.

Anyway, I need to get back to work and trying to get my life in order (IRS, if you're reading this, I promise I'm working on those 2006 taxes). But as a fun little experiment, I'm going to try doing what other bloggers do, and post small, frequent, poorly-written updates for a while, instead of large, infrequent, well-written updates. Mostly because I just got back from Japan, and like last time, I have some weird shit to share. So look for that in the next couple days. No, really. I promise.

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Tuesday, November 01, 2005subscribe to demonbaby

The Valleys Of New Orleans

[Currently Listening To: The Veils - The Runaway Found]

I haven't updated my blog in such a long time I've started receiving death threats. Relax, people! Go do something productive with your lives. It's just that I've been busy, traveling like crazy, and I don't like to update this page unless I have the time to do it right. More updates are coming soon. Promise. In the meantime...

new orleansA few days ago I was in New Orleans, one of the four cities I have called home at some point in my life. It's the first time I'd been down there since Katrina hit, and I was anxious to see how the city was holding up. In the French Quarter, where we stayed, things almost felt normal. Very little damage was evident; shops were open, Bourbon Street was lively on saturday night... But beyond that, it was a ragged ghost town. Miles and miles of neighborhoods closed and abandoned, deemed uninhabitable for months. Places and parts of town I knew like the back of my hand, now completely unrecognizable. Garbage and debris everywhere. Almost everything closed, almost everyone gone. It is clear that despite its disappearance from news headlines, New Orleans has a very long way to go before it gets back to normal - if it ever does.

We had the opportunity to tour the ninth ward, the most heavily-damaged area of the city, still closed to the public. The scale of devastation was unimaginable, spanning miles and miles. It transcended anything you've seen on TV, anything you've imagined. I took quite a few pictures while I was down there, and they've been posted online in hopes of giving people a better idea of what's really still going on down there, nine weeks after the hurricane. Take a look, and pass the link on to some friends:

New Orleans: 10_28_05

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Thursday, June 23, 2005subscribe to demonbaby

I'm such a tourist!

I have a lot of fun ridiculous stuff to post here, but I haven't had any time recently. Too much traveling and work and fun. Maybe I'll get around to it tomorrow. In the meantime, however, you can look at some photos I took in Vienna and Paris. Mostly I posted these for my family, who always bitch at me about not sending postcards when I'm overseas - but you can look at them too, if you feel like it. I'll add more to this page when I take some more pictures:

Pictures from Europe

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Sunday, January 02, 2005subscribe to demonbaby

New Years Carnage.

I don't particularly have anything witty or insightful to say about our new years party, except that it was fucking fantastic and I'm glad so many people came. Also, our apartment is *completely* trashed. It's a disaster. My roommate and I decided we should call a cleaning service, because it's that bad. Of course, my roommate is OCD so I woke up this morning to find that she had cleaned most of it up in a fit of compulsion. Fine with me. Regardless, pictures speak louder than words, so please enjoy these before and after photos of our apartment:

The living room, before and after (click to enlarge):

The dining room, before and after (click to enlarge):

The family room, before and after (click to enlarge):

And although I don't have a before picture, the kitchen is worth noting (click to enlarge):

Oh, and the shredded carcas of our little paper maché friend, Pedro Pasado Lupe Hernando Ortega, The Donkey (click to enlarge):

Now I'd better get back to cleaning...

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Monday, April 19, 2004subscribe to demonbaby

Spider-Man's Ultra-Sexxxy Dance Moves! Jacko Eat Your Heart Out!

So, today I got the coolest toy: An 18-inch, ultra-articulated Spider-Man action figure, and I discovered very quickly that Spidey can pull off some fucking hott dance moves.

You're about to get served.


Yeah, I was bored today.

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