I generally hate talk shows because the interviews are ridiculous and I couldn’t care less about actor’s private lives and their lame antic dotes. But this one….this is what late night talk shows should be for.

That is what I turned and said to the person next to me about 40 minutes into Star Trek last night. From the very first scene with a dirty little kid driving an old Corvette like a maniac, to end credits, that is exactly what this movie is, perfect. For this particular genre (Action/Sci-Fi), it may very well be the best movie ever made. I won’t go into specifics, but I will say that it is the perfect mix of action, effects, comedy, and tribute to the original series. The casting is flawless and the writing is uber good. I was shocked by how many times I laughed out loud. So if you are a skeptic like I was, let this be your reason to put that doubt aside and get your ass to the theater and see the movie that makes me hates JJ Abrams just a little less. Just for the record JJ, it’s going to take about 3 films like this to make up for your used-tampon-of-show Lost.

I can’t see through them anymore.
Believe it or not, this is a line from a turd muffin recording that Billy Bob Thornton put out and calls an album. I hate to break it to you Billy, but your music comes in a distant second to shit that was played at my 6th grade talent show. When you watch this interview, you would think the guy  is in a band like Radiohead as seriously as he takes himself. I don’t even want to waste my time going on about what a fucking douche-mouth this guy is, so just watch this interview he did with a Canadian Radio show about his shithole band the boxmasters. What a joke this guy is. “Would you say that to Tom Petty?” Dude, I’ve got news for you…..I may not be a Tom Petty fan, but how dare you even compare yourself to him.  This guy is complete ego-manic.

Whether it is the economy or ebay that has led to this, I have been taking great pleasure in the recent closings of numerous pawn shops in my town. These places have spent decades raping people out of their belongings and then trying to fuck shoppers by marking this crap up to ridiculous pirces. Whatever is responsible for these vultures going out of business, I say “thank you.”

As we emerge from our second winter of being shut in, eating, drinking, and getting fat, our brains are firing back up and shouting one line over and ove again: “Get the fuck out of here and head south young man!!” Yep, it’s official folks, the 08-09 South Dakota winter will be my last. The Plantain duo is packing up shop, selling the house and heading south. As far as our destination,  there are a couple of different locations high in the running. We have some time to figure it out as we will be staying through the summer in SF and executing our genius plan that we have hatched to make a boat load of cash before we go. So if you are lucky, I won’t be coming to a town near you.

But apparently they do. “How do you know, Emanuel, you’re not a scientist,” you ask. Well, I may not be a scientist but I came across undeniable proof that cigarettes make you dumber. Yesterday, while I was out jogging in the miserable cold I came across two thuggish looking idiots walking through my neighborhood. The closer I  to them, the more they stared at me as if they were going to say something that would force me to kick both of their asses. But as I approached, the retards could see that coming out of my sweartshirt hood, were wires that were boviously connected to earbuds, plugging up my ears, so i would be unable to hear anything they said. This may be true, but I know the look when someone is going to say something to you so i kept staring right back. And then it happened. The dumbest fucking question I have ever been asked in my life. As I jogged past these two assholes, one of them threw up the universal gesture for “You got a spare smoke I can bum?” Are you fucking kidding me? Yeah dude, I keep a pack stashed under the strap that holds my heart monitor against my chest. What sort of brain-dead, two-chromosome-short mongrel would think that someone out jogging is going to have a pack of cigarettes with them? No wonder the dumb ass couldn’t afford to buy his own smokes….who the fuck would hire that ass clown?

Friendship Village is the name of a “retirement community” in Minnesota, where former pro wrestler, Verne Gagne killed another man by throwing him to the ground and breaking his hip. This story is hilarious on so many levels. First of all, let me throw this out there: the killer was 82 and the guy that died of a broken hip was 97, so it’s not like this guy had a bright future ahead of him.  Secondly, to call these places anything other than an old-folks home is ridiculous ; we all know what they are, yet they love to give them names that sound like a glorious weekend getaway. These are places that are willing to take our old parents for a small amount of money, once we have decided they are too old, and too much much trouble for us to take care of. I know for me personally, unless I ever have kids of my own, I will never change a diaper. The fact that this place is called Friendship Village and the inhabitants are killing eachother? Come on, you have to laugh. It gets better. This all went down in the “memory-loss unit” so the dude didn’t even remember pushing his old buddy down.  And real punchline of all of this, is that the 97 year old guy died of a broken hip. I mean, how many times have we all joked about an old person falling and breaking their hip? I didn’t know that it would kill them. So let’s recap. An 82 year old ex-pro wrestler kills a 97 year old man by pushing him down and breaking his hip in the memory-loss unit of Friendship Village all because the man wouldn’t share his pudding. Okay, so I made the part about the pudding up, but that’s what they should tell the guy was the reason it all went down. Fuck him, it’s not like the guy will know they are lying, he can’t remember shit. Plus, it would make for a much funnier story.

07-24-30-32-44  These are the latest Powerball numbers, worth $65 million.

06-24-29-35-55  These were my numbers. Probably the closest I will ever come to winning the lottery.

You’re everything I would like to be…..Yeah, I sang some fucking Midler, what of it?

I still feel bad to this day for the shit I gave Johnny Knoxville when he was sitting in front of me at the premiere of some of his friends’ movie (Beerfest). We had been indulging in buckets of different German beers when I remembered a movie I had recently seen call Dalton Calhoon or some shit, and it was Knoxville’s attempt to play it straight in a drama. Needless to say, it was aweful. I am an asshole because of how quickly I pushed aside my appreciation for all the laughs the guy as given through brutalizing his own body.  In this particular video, he breaks his dick in a motorcycle crash and then shows us how he still shoves a rod up his wang-hole a year later in order to pee. Knoxville, today I will think of you each time I pee today, and honor you be leaving the seat up, pissing all over, and waiting for my girlfriend to fall straight into the bowl with nothing to grab but the rim, covered in pissy-dribble.

you let actors have dozens of award shows so that they can kiss each others asses, and buy into the delusion that their job is important or difficult. As you know, I love movies as much as anyone, but have a zero tolerance policy for the prick actors that think they are better than the guy stocking shelves at the community food bank. This sound clip of Christian Bale freaking out on a Director of Photography on the set of Terminator 4 is exactly what can happen, the second these hollywood asswipes buy the crap they are spewing every time a microphone is in front of them. Listen here.