Monthly Archives: July 2011

Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

Guys, we dodged a bullet.

Hug it out, bros. Hug. That. Shit. Out.

Football’s coming back. We’ll all have something to do in the Fall. Be it cookouts with friends, ordering pizza and parking yourself in front of the TV, or driving around in stolen car so it can’t be traced back to you and running over every mother fucker in a Patriots’ or Chargers’ jersey, one of the best parts of autumn is returned to us. Read the rest of this entry


Encounter The Most Terrifying Thing at Comic-Con

We saw some messed up stuff at San Diego Comic-Con. A man feeding tacos to a possum in swaddling clothes, fake policemen putting passerbys in a 1920s paddy wagon, dollar bills hanging off rooftops on fishing line, and a 90-year old bartender who poured air and assured you that it was vodka.

But somehow this takes the cake. (more…)

Dear Celebs: Comic Con Edition

Dear Celebrities That Were at Comic-Con,

Hey, stop changing my pictures.

You guys can stop faking it. Listen, no one’s really happy about you guys having to be at Comic-Con, except you know, the people who are really into Glee, and the damaged, lost sections of humanity that cling to Twilight.

Geeks are pissed that it’s not about comics anymore, and that there are so few panels about that industry. Everyone else is upset they have to be around the geeks. Read the rest of this entry

This Cat Washing Machine Was Invented By A Mean Little Brother

The idea of a Cat Spa (trademark?) makes sense for the first five seconds (Oh yea, I imagine washing a cat IS hard! Cats hate water right? It’s like The Jetsons). Then you see that instead of nice robotic hands cleaning your cat for you, it’s just a death trap chamber you toss your cat in. If there was a movie called Animal Final Destination, an animal would die in one of these when it malfunctions.

I don’t think why I’ve ever washed my cat. Probably because cats clean themselves. That’s kind of part of their appeal: low maintenance, they’ll eat your body if you die in your apartment, and they clean themselves. Did your cat fall into a tub of butterscotch or get sprayed by a skunk? Then just take a soap rag and gentle clean your cat. Don’t gas chamber them.

Your Comic Con Primer


As a self proclaimed nerd (obviously since I’m writing for NK) I am making the trip down to San Diego for Comic Con this year.  This is the fourth year I will be going, so I believe that makes me a bit of a Comic Con veteran.  If you don’t know what Comic Con is, I’m not going to take the time to explain it. And you should probably just go on living your life as a well adjusted human being, because I assure you that you’re better off.  But for those of you that care, let me share some of my wisdom from years past and give those of you who won’t be going a little insight into how awesome/horrifying Comic Con can be.

Just to start, Comic Con has changed significantly since it began in 1970.  But the most radical change has come in the last decade or so when the internet began to be so ingrained into our daily lives.  Now everything: movies, TV, video games, comics, EVERYTHING thrives on the buzz created on the web and the word of mouth of nerds.  And for a lot of these, it all starts with their appearance at Comic Con. Basically, Comic Con has become significantly less about the comics themselves and more about everything else that nerd culture loves.  For example, there was a large Guild panel before the Community panel last year. The Guild. The Guild is…awful. Just. Really terrible.  My point is, a sub par web series that had no business being there in the first place, held a panel in a HUGE ballroom. Guys, Felicia Day is super hot. But. Fuck off. What’s wrong with us? Read the rest of this entry

Fight the Future, Beat Your Kids (with knowledge)

I was all set to write a character piece from the perspective of a 12-year-old discovering an older relative’s “classic movies” and then use that to start doing a series of articles about a kid watching stuff like Blade, the Matrix, and Old School.

Pictured: Blade, Motherfuckers Trying to Ice Skate Up Hill.

It was funny, then it got less funny, because it made me feel super old. Well, that’s not entirely true. I spend most of my weekends drinking beer and watching cartoons, and my nights are spent coming up with outlandish scenarios for comedy sketches, action movies, and sci-fi stories, but the beginnings of that article did force me to acknowledge the unstoppable advancement of time.

Thanks to being an unusually oily teenager, my skin is thus far, holding off on the worry lines and crow’s feet, though everytime I look in a mirror, I swear my hairline is slowly sliding back.

Hold the line, you bastards.

Time marches on, and I’m forced to come to grips with the fact that pop culture is continuing to move on without my permission or attention. Read the rest of this entry

There Was a Time This Trailer Brought Hope

Hold back your snark cannons, internet. I want you to learn something from this. Look at this trailer. No one had any idea what the prequel trilogy would be like. The realization that eight hours of prologue wouldn’t be satisfying hadn’t hit anyone yet.

According to the above video’s uploader, fans in this screening bought tickets to Meet Joe Black (remember that? That character’s name was conceived before Jack Black was a movie star. Things would’ve been too confusing if he was!) just to see the trailer. Movies don’t do that anymore. If you want to see the new Avengers movie, you see it at the end of Captain America, which you’re likely already seeing. Imagine if The Dark Knight Rises Teaser had been put exclusively at the beginning of Zookeeper. How frustrating that would be for the few folks there excited to see some Kevin James hi-jinks and some nerd in a bat suit bought all the tickets.

Look at all the beats this trailer hits and imagine what the movie could’ve been like:

00:30 – Sprawling landscapes, droid fighters flying off like it’s Cloud City, a beautiful woman looking longingly out the window. You lean over to your friend and go, “Is this…is this art? This is art!” Read the rest of this entry