YES, AND IT'S RIBBED

[The Lovely Man pops some video up on the jumbotron backdropping the podium, shock and awe in full, glorious effect]

NEQQ: If only they'd have slipped into *their* stream of outtakes with the dildo one of the lame Burt Reynolds Smokey & The Bandit outtakes, I'd have had time to finish.

POPE FU: This raises an interesting point: I have rarely, if ever, seen THE COCK referred to as a "dildo." As much as I respect your intentions, Lovely Man, I think you're off the mark here. You have attempted to appeal to our COCK Love, but there is a significant disconnect between our iconography and the rhetoric of this video. "Giant rubber penis" does not always mean "dildo." I'm ready for a debate on this.

LOVELY MAN: You'll get no debate here. I was not attempting to suggest a connection to exploits-past. Rather, I was sharing an amusing video. I like any video involving women being forthright about their sexual needs.

However, if you are eager for me to invoke COCK-imagery, swing by tonight, trainwhistle. Rowrl!

[The Pope rewatches the video on his Blackberry...twice]

POPE FU: Upon further review, many of those dildoes have ballsacs. I'm willing to let you go on that technicality.

June 2, 2006 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: DRUG OF CHOICE

Believe it or Not

[The Hall’s normal discourse of socio-economic-politico fervor is pushed aside as Grampa waltzes in, hailing his lass of choice:]

GRAMPA: Thanks to my friend Jaden, I have discovered this! Gents, you really can buy anything online.

POPE FU: I remember being a kid and thinking "this show is bad."

TEZ: I loved it...especially since my father hated it.

LOVELY MAN: That episode where Ralph went in the closet into an alternate universe and got the crap beat out of him (reminds me of my wandering college days) was the scariest. I had nightmares - but I still loved the show. And hands down it had the best TV theme song of its generation.

WOOK: Hold up. I do find it interesting that anyone viewed TGAH as bad television, especially in this crew - the lead had a curly, psuedo gay doo, was incredibly inept, worked for "the man" during the day and dressed up in tights at night. C'mon Pope...if there was a more apt TLF comparison in the early 80's, I wasn't watching (A-TEAM not included).

POPE FU: Yeah, but when you're 10 years old, and the choice is between a talking Firebird, a black thug with a mohawk and a 'fro-ed blond guy who saves the world, it's really no choice at all. Plus that theme song was easily one of the lowlights of AM hit radio - I knew that even back then.

GRAMPA: You were such a no-it-all back then.

POPE FU: Real haters start early.

NECK: GAH vs. A-TEAM. Why's it gotta be an either/or with you pizzles? Unlike you, and like Our Dear Sweet Idiot, I'm a uniter, not a divider. There's room in my 80's tent for teh GREATEST AMERICAN HERO, BA Baracas, Jessy Mock of NIGHTHAWK, Butkis and Co. on BLUE THUNDER, etc...

WOOK: Since we're on topic, I'll share the first television image to pop Wookiee wood. It was that episode of BUCK RODGERS where they pick up the space midgets with telekenetic powers, one of whom spends a good portion of the episode trying to undress Erin Gray.

Uh, the close-up shot of the zipper going down on her skintight space jumper...to die for when you were 8.

LOVELY MAN: Wook, that's so fantastic - I had two seminal (thank you) pre-puberty "What the hell is happening to my winkie?" moments:

BUCK ROGERS: Erin Gray is bitten by the space vampire and tries to seduce Buck into a late night bite. Rowrl!

Seeing Firestar from SPIDER-MAN & FRIENDS for the first time on a black and white TV, and thinking she was naked (the yellow outfit spoiled that particularly wonderful confusion once I saw it on a color set).

WOOK: But back from boners, Neck, I agree totally on the BLUE THUNDER tip. So much better than AIRWOLF.

OILMAN: Well no shit - Dick Butkis and Bubba Smith or a fuckin' guy named Jan!

[End of transcript]

October 18, 2005 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: MASTODON COCK

The Captain

[The Hall’s normal discourse of socio-economic-politico fervor is pushed aside as Love himself materializes in full view - a rare occurence to say the least:]

LOVE: Before there was rubber, there was stone.

POPE FU: ...and complacents were not merely smacked, they were pummeled.

NECK: "The 20cm-long, 3cm-wide stone object...its life size suggests it may well have been used as a sex aid by its Ice Age makers..." That's 7.8 inches. Thus, it seems that Captain Caveman carried a second club under his hairsuit. Fuck...28,000 years of evolution and here I am, the product of that evolving - stuck with half a cock and soaring medical insurance costs. Thanks, Darwin, you miserable bitch.

POPE FU: Then again, Neck,it was a sex "aid" - which means that it could've been built to the ladies' specifications, and not to real-life scale, y'know?

NECK: Sweet crap, I hope so. If half-a-glans under 8 inches was average "life-size" 28,000 years ago, either as a species we've lost significant penile mass, or I'm penetically inferior, in a major way, to entire epochs of geologic history.

POPE FU: Or the ladies were gettin' some mastodon cock on the side, and just wanted something a little more sanitary.

BTW, I believe that's the first use of the word "penetically" since the March-with-a-Bunch-of-Morons Era.

[End of transcript]

August 15, 2005 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: LIONS & MIDGETS

[The Hall’s normal discourse of socio-economic-politico fervor is pushed aside as the table revels in the news that 42 midgets bought the farm in a Cambodian ring-fight with a lion:]

LOVELY MAN: Wait a minute...I thought the term "midget" was off limits?

THUNDAH: While I did pine for such news to be true, it still trumps the zombie stories that were floating around a few weeks ago. Since I'd just seen Dawn and Shaun of the Dead, I was pretty impressionable. And I'm still not convinced that Dr. Franklin Ruehl, the world's foremost cryptozooligist, won't find Bigfoot on "A Current Affair".

LOVE: Since George Lucas has some free time now, this needs to be ILM's next project.

POPE FU: He already did that story: Ewoks.

I know some pretty small midgets, but you'd think that the lion would only be able to chew on one or two midgets at a time. This would leave the other 38-40 midgets to attack.

NECK: Paw attack - one swipe takes out a 6-pack of lil fellas.

TITAN SHINY: Yeah - I second the paw attack.

I also envision the big puss having 2 or 3 midgets in the jaw-clench and doing the classic violent head-shake neck-breakin' move. This move subsequently turns those 2 or 3 midgets into projectiles of jagged bone fragments which get scattered like a cluster-bomb throughout the room (remember: midgets' bones are denser than average people. So they're sorta like the depleted uranium of bone fragmenation). This move easily takes out another 8-10 midgets. Rinse. Repeat. Lion wins.

The only hope the midgets would have is strategic eye-gouging and/or some vicious cock-and-ball mutilation.

THUNDAH: Don't you people believe in teamwork? An organized army of healthy midgets can do anything if they put their mind to it. They just need a game plan. Besides, they've got that midget strength...it'd be like fighting a pack of wolverines.

TITAN SHINY: True, "midget strength" can't be underestimated. But unless they figure out some kind of Voltron-esque assimilation, I'm still betting on the lion.

POPE FU: I think I'm still on the side of the midgets at this point. A paw attack would be catastrophic and morale-deflating, possibly. But I'd also think that a few midget martyrs would be willing to be the first to die in order to distract the lion. Y'know, "in heaven you will get more regular-sized boobs than you can handle, and regular-sized virgins, as well."

TITAN SHINY: That raises up another question: How would 40 MILFs fare if they squared off against a single lion?

NECK: If, by MILF, you mean "Midgets I'd Like To F," I counter with:

Find me a midget each of us, individually, WOULDN'T. I mean, seriously. The small hands, choppy limbs...crazysexycool of their own volition, sure, but then there's the whole Freudian aspect of objects in relation to midgets appearing larger by the comparison. Here's my main pieces of evidence:

POPE FU: Neck, a fine example of staying "on task."

TEZ: For what it's worth, I vote midgets. 40 is a big number - like 3 Mongolians.

LOVE: In other news, gents, it was only a matter of time.

NECK: In some metapsychic way, we are directly responsible for this.

TITAN SHINY: Has "pipe bomb" ever been used as a euphemism for penis before?

POPE FU: Sounds like The Cock is trying to eliminate the competition. That imposter cock probably fell out of a Cock-henchman's trunk.

TEZ: "...a remote-controlled robot used to make the fake penis safe." As if.

[End of transcript]

June 29, 2005 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: LITTLE DEBBIE

Little Debbie

[The Hall’s normal discourse of socio-economic-politico fervor is pushed aside as Lovely Man comes bounding into view with leery intent and the latest issue of Playboy in hand:]

LOVELY MAN: While the less-savvy voyeur might be drawn to the heiress on the cover (frankly I don't understand her allure, to me she's Twiggy without the personality), I am titillated by the expose on that little girl who sang "Only In My Dreams", mentioned below.

POPE FU: Indeed, Lovely, she's the prize in that box of cracker jaxx. But more importantly, it is rare that you take the initiative in alerting us to targets of horndoggery (either real or conceptual), so I take your Debbie-love as something grand and eternal, writ deeply into your limbic system.

NECK: Fuck Paris Hilton.

I mean, not literally, I guess it'd be OK if you want to, but, to Lovely's point, she really is as annoying a non-celebrity celebrity as could be.

I take umbrage - that's right umbrage - with the title bestowed upon Ms. Hilton by this esteened journal of high-class bootyography. Our Lovely Man has been the ":sex star of the year" for about 2 decades runnin'.

Which is why I say, fuck Paris Hilton.

ODE TO 2005's SEX STAR OF THE YEAR
Fuck...Paris Hilton?
Forgot 'bout Sexstar LM --
Fuck Paris Hilton.

LOVELY MAN: I'd like to point out that, while probably a typo, Neck's latent desires have once again manifested in the following quote, as transcribed - ":sex star of the year" which, of course, if read literally, means "colon-sex star of the year".

Have no fear, Rubberneck, the reamer is here.

NECK: Freudian typo. Definitely.

[The denizens of the Hall take a collective breath as the sugarfree spread is passed along for all to gaze inquisitively at, some for mere seconds, others for long, contemplative hours. The transcript picks up some 16 hours and 45 minutes later]

LOVELY MAN: My blood runs cold, my memories have just been sold, angel is a centerfold...

NECK: And now we know what Brittney is going to look like after her 5th major facial plastic surgery procedure (and third butt lift).

LOVELY MAN: Yeah, it's like Debbie got a hold of Jack Nicholson's Joker smiley-gas from the original Batman movie. "Go with a smile!"

TEZ: Must everything be about sex with you guys?

POPE FU: I'm still dwelling on the thought of smiley gas as a potential sexual enhancer.

NECK: If it's sex you want, gentlemen, please remember that Rock Never Stops. After all, when love is far away just give it time.

LOVELY MAN: First, Tez: No, sometimes its about makin' love.

Second: I'm surprised at the pecking order for this tour. While Firehouse is definitely in the basement when it comes to the hair-band hierarchy, I would've put both Ratt and Quiet Riot above Cinderella in terms of influence, popularity, and overall rawk-a-tude. And where the fuck is Warrant?

NECK: No botox my ass.

ESKIMO: Don't hate man...learn to love.

[End of transcript]

February 24, 2005 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: DA NEW POPE

The Old Pope

[As news of Pope John Paul's long-overdue demise spreads across the globe, TLF's resident Pope calls an emergency round table strategy session, coded completely in haiku, the transcripts for which are as follows:]

LOVE:
Pope near death, God's choice
Testostecles' reign begins
farts, drugs, jizz; repeat

POPE FU:
Blow the ass trumpets,
Friends, a new epoch is nigh
Clouds of gas ascend!

TITAN SHINY:
Squatting while blessing
Painting the Vatican brown
Papal scat sammich

LOVE:
Queef Choir squealing,
Vagican City rejoices!
Does your pussy hurt?

TITAN SHINY:
All hail Pope Goatse
Hello, darkness, my old friend
Kiss the ring, fuckers

[End of transcript]

February 3, 2005 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

ROUND TABLE: MOTLEY CRUE

Motley Crue

[The Hall’s normal discourse of socio-economic-politico fervor is pushed aside as news of an imminent and umpteenth Motley Crue reunion tour floods the wires, prompting an emergency round table discussion, the transcripts for which are as follows:]

ESKIMO: First off, it ain’t G’n’R.

POPE FU: But in a lot of ways, it’s a much better train wreck.

NECK: I must respectfully disagree with Pope’s ascertation in regard to the size of one’s trainwreck. The Crue has at least a fighting chance of getting through the first leg of its reunion tour. We knew from the beginning that Axl didn't have more than a couple of shows in him.

LOVELY MAN: The write-up in the Washington Post mentioned that Mick Mars just got a hip replacement. Guess it was from all that rockin'. Quote from article: "We're still Motley."

ESKIMO: Hip replacement theory - he wants to be like Eddie Van Halen... girls, girls, girls.

LOVELY MAN: Actually, I think the whole "hip replacement" story is just a cover for his operation to have a heroin pump put in. Less mess.

POPE FU: True that, but let’s get back to Neck's trainwreck counter-argument: What good is a trainwreck that you can't actually see? The sheer potential for survival - and actual shitty performances - is what makes the Crue the better "happy accident."

ESKIMO: Call me a dumbass, but I actually anticipated (hired) Guns ‘n' Axl playing on what became their aborted tour. Motley Crue, well, we know they'll play. I'll put a wager on it, but...will Tommy Lee have the floating drum kit?

THUNDAH: Absolutely, but let’s cut the crap. I know I'm about to offend some of you, but I never thought that Motley Crue was that good to begin with. I mean, how hard have these guys had it? To me, they were just another hair band in it to fuck beautiful women. They made millions and got what they wanted, now go away. Quit trying to manufacturing interest.

Say what you want, but G'n'R, at the beginning, were in it to rock. When pussy entered the G'n'R equation, it all fell apart. The hopes that Axl could stem his self-destructive ways for a month and commence to rockin' (as much as he could) were what got me excited about that aborted tour. As for the Crue, nah man, I'll pass. They're just a bunch of over-commercialized, money grubbing whores at this point. The cringe factor associated with seeing this show doesn't hold a candle to the mythic proportions a G’n’R show drums up.

I'd rather see Ace Frehely's Comet. At least that guy's a total mess and probably needs the money.

NECK: I'm feelin' that, P. Thundy. Vince Neil crying on VH-1 took away whatever was left of "the mystique" for me as well.

When the G’n’R wreck occurred, Wook, Skmo, P. Thundy and I were the only four ticketholders in the Wachovia Center with the knowledge that they weren't going to take the stage. As you may recall, we overheard a Comcast Spectacor staffer discussing why they were leaving the building.

We sat, zooting prolifically, waiting for the crowd to begin to get more surly, less drunk but desiring more drunk (taps were shut off at 8:45, just about when we heard the news that Axl hadn't made it to Philly for the show at all), more willing to break and smash things. We watched as the female security guards were quietly removed, then the younger ones, then the core of big-arm men on the security staff. We watched as chairs, bottles - anything throwable - was thrown. We were prepared for the stupidity, and the environment delivered on the promise, after about 3 hours of restrained chortling and unrestrained zootiosity.

One of the most entertaining nights of my life. Unless Mick loses that hip on stage, I couldn't be more entertained. Hell, if G’n’R had actually performed, there was no way I could have been more entertained. And thus, the value of the unseen trainwreck.

LOVELY MAN: Yeah but the story about Nikki Sixx overdosing, dying in the hospital, waking up, checking himself out, going home and shooting up again, passing out, and waking with a heroin needle sticking out of his arm? Sixx is hardcore, baby. I've done the same thing with Tastykakes.

POPE FU: Comrades, perhaps our definitions of "trainwreck" are wildly different, or perhaps we are talking about two entirely different species of trainwreck. Check it:

  • I acknowledge that the recent G’n’R mayhem witnessed in person by most of y'all is by far one of the funniest rock 'n' roll things ever to happen in Philly, or perhaps anywhere.
  • I acknowledge that Motley Cure is a shitty band. I have never believed otherwise.
  • Motley Crue's greatness as a potential trainwreck has nothing to do with music. Axl is just weird. Most of the members of Motley Crue are pathetic. But all that lame pathos is probably totally fuckin' hilarious when put onstage with the intent to recall the "glory years." Axl onstage - these days - is just boring.
  • I wouldn't pay more than $10 to see (hired) G’N’R or Motley Crue, but if either of them are going to take my money, I'd prefer to know that I'm going to get some theater.
  • Although the G’n’R mayhem witnessed in Philly was indeed theater of the first degree, it also was a lucky day. There was no guarantee of theater, and there was no guarantee that the band's show would be more entertaining the aftermath of its cancellation.
  • I think Motley Crue would guarantee theater. If anything, I remember laughing my ass off at the crowd at a Cinderella show in 1995. This is ten years later, and Motley Crue is a much bigger collection of fuckups than Cinderella could hope to be. And besides, the crowd would probably be largely the same as the folks who thronged to G’n’R.

Call me sensitive, but I guess that's what I be.

[End of transcript]

December 7, 2004 in Round Table | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBack