|THE EVER GROWING COLLECTION OF ASSORTED LINKS AND FUN THINGS THAT WE FOUND HILARIOUS OR OTHERWISE INTERESTING.|
|By The Black Table|
Is R.Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" an amazing song or a total piece of shit concept piece that's borderline amusing without a decent hook. Who can say? Luckily, these fine folks have broken down all five parts of the song Cliff's Notes style, so this possible masterwork can get the literary breakdown that it truly deserves. Ask yourself: "Why does Chuck look for Sylvester under the dresser? How big do you imagine the dresser to be?"
All too often the World of Heterosexual Men sits back and heartily objectifies the female form, clinking beer mugs together and laughing like there's no tomorrow. Well, this one's for the ladies. (And the World of Homosexual Men, too!) If you like bicycles and boys, then you'll love this site, which features a lot of boys in their underpants sitting on bicycles and smiling for the camera.
Oh hey there, Mr. Johnson, I'm here to pick up your daughter for the prom. Oh this? These old rags? Yeah, I made this outfit myself at home. Wanted something that no one else will have, you know? Yup. It's made of cans of Coca-Cola, but it's not that hard to walk around in. It's a little awkward at times -- I can't clap my hands or anything -- but it does look cool, don't you think? What do you mean your daughter isn't home?
On the list of most hideous things ever photographed, this site's collection of people wearing both socks and sandals comes right between "Roseanne Barr/Tom Arnold Honeymoon video" and "Michael Jackson, when he wakes up in the morning." It's certainly strong stuff that's not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. That said, it's Friday, you ain't got shit to do, so you might as well waste time with this.
For years, grandpa had a self-esteem problem, drowning his demons in a fifth of the cheapest rum he could find, constantly on the move, riding those rails from town to town, all his worldly belongings hanging over his shoulder in a tidy ball on a stick. But no matter how far he went or how many baked beans he ate, something was eating at dear grandpa. Then, one day, grandpa saw this little website and it hit him like a ton of bricks: he was a hobosexual.
Little trees + little cars = something to look at while you're eating your overpriced lunch at work. Why would anyone want to pay upwards of $150 for a toy car wrapped around a bonsai tree? Who cares! You needed something to look at while you were eating today and here it is, something to look at.
If you've got about 43,000 hours to kill, it might be worth your while to check out this site, which has the most comprehensive array of flight attendant uniforms ever seen. Just something to think about as you look at hundreds of uniforms, all shot on the same creepy ass mannequin: Somewhere out there is a man in a basement with an awful lot of unforms, free time, and bandwidth.
For the last few weeks, we here at The Black Table have been extremely remiss in updating this links section. We have loads of perfectly good excuses -- the margaritas and cocaine parties on Tuesday nights are time consuming ... it's 32,000 degrees out ... we can't stop watching MTV2 -- but you don't want excuses. You want a new link. You know how, in the movies, Daddy buys his girl a cherry 1987 Camaro to make up for years of neglect? Well, here's your fucking Camaro.
Perhaps it's the way the bored cashier never even bothers to flip over your credit card. Or maybe it's the fact they never look you in the eye and practically wing the card back at you once it goes through. But ever get the feeling that the whole "sign your credit card slip" at the check out is just a sham, a mere formality so that the store can get money, even if it's not yours? Well, you're absolutely right.
The hardest thing to do when it's dark, you're bombed and need to pee is finding the light switch, flicking it on, then being able to hold it long enough to find the toilet while your eyes adjust. At best, you can accomplish only two of those things, leaving you half-blind, staggering around the bathroom, pissing your pants. That's why the makers of Jonny Glow deserve some kind of special prize ... and so do the fine folks at Gorkhouse for the outstanding animation.
At some point, when all the rodentlike-animals finally get together and have an awards show celebrating their many rodentlike achievements, they're going to give Sugar Bush Squirrel a lifetime achievement award. All of the rats and mice and squirrels and gerbils and hamsters are going to get all misty as they show Sugar Bush's lengthy career retrospective, and then Sugar Bush is going to limp onstage with a little cane and give a wildly passionate speech that ends with the word "courage." And when you watch that shit on cable, you're gonna get all misty and say, "That is one goddamn fine squirrel."
What do you get when you give a comedian with a cult smash TV show $50 million? (Well, besides a twice-delayed third-season of a cult smash TV show and rumors of a drug-fueled nervous breakdown and sojourn to South Africa.) No, you also get snarky T-shirts that are sold for $18 over the Internet. In the 1700s, cultural commentary was printed on pamphlets. Today, it's on a yellow tagless Hanes shirt. It's nice to live in the future, no?
Sometimes, when we feel really bad about our paychecks, we like to spend a few moments daydreaming that we lived a hundred years ago, when a shiny nickel could buy you a rack of ribs, a tub of mashed potatoes, a tankard of ale and a hot bath. Nowadays, if we drop a nickel in the street, we don't even bother to pick them up. What's the point of this pointless daydreaming? Great grandpa never would have dreamed of doing this with his pocket change.
Somewhere out there lurks a man. Some of you may know him. Some of you may not. But his name is Banksy. And he's the kind of avant garde super artiste that everyone sleeps on because he's not doing it the "appropriate way." Like, one time, he walked into a bunch of museums and hung up his own paintings -- which stayed up for days. He's done graffiti on farm animals, people. This is his Website. Please explore it.
Attention miserable ingrates: Mother's Day is exactly five days away, so if you were going to do the right thing and buy her some overpriced flowers online, it's probably a good idea to line it up now. (At least think about doing something!) Okay, okay, our little public service announcement is officially over. It's time to ruminate on what mom means to you. Oh, and watch this. Have a nice day.
You know you're doing nothing on a Monday when you're sitting there at work, firing kittens out of a cannon. And who could blame you? Despite the fact that this little Web game involves hitting the space bar (just once!), takes absolutely no skill and relies almost completely on dumb luck -- it's completely addictive. Our high score is 2,003. Beat that suckahs!
In honor of Friday, we proudly present this completely random link. Where did it come from? Who made it? We're completely unsure, to be truthful. But we do know why it exists. It's here to make you happy. It's here to bring joy into the darker corners of the universe. It's here to be watched again and again, as you sit there in your lonely cubicle, clapping your hands in time with the music and wondering how you can get invited to the next sausage party.
One night, when we were all out in Los Angeles and looking for something fun to do, we ended up at this crazy local's only karaoke bar deep in Chinatown. After being booed offstage for our pained rendition of "Can't Fight This Feeling" we settled in for a night of watching other people sing songs in languages we didn't even remotely understand. The cocktails make this memory hazy, but we're almost positive they sang this song at least once.
Why do people say "he's got huge balls" as a compliment? Does that make any kind of sense? It's not like testicles are particularly sexy, otherwise you'd be required to describe your balls on online dating sites. Despite the fact that nuts aren't very attractive at their regular size, let alone when they're monstrously large, people still think having big balls is a good thing. This video might change your view.
The next time your five-year-old decides that poo is perfect for painting, bedtimes are to be ignored, and tantrums are an effective bargaining technique, you show that little piece of shit bastard who is boss with a little message, okay? You buy one of these, tuck it under those Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sheets, and wake up to the lovely sound of screaming.
We've seen all kinds of fantastic Lego creations at this point. Like Lego representations of "The Last Supper." Do you remember that one? That was pretty cool. We've even come across Lego representations of historical events, like Lincoln's assassination. But this Lego-ed out version of the Bible might just take the cake. There are more than 2,000 illustrations, some of which contain hot Lego nudity, sex, violence and cursing. Amen! Hallelujah!
According to the book that mom and dad brought home for us when we hit puberty, there's absolutely nothing wrong with having a wet dream. It's just the evil thoughts leaving your body at night, so that you don't turn into Tommy Lee and get all kinds of handsy with other people when you're completely wasted. As we've established, wet dreams are good. And so, it's rather heartwarming to see that Chef Boyardee's wet dreams are being filmed and shown on the Web.
We're going to hell. It's fine, we're totally comfortable with that fact, we accept it. But let's get the reasons straight. We're going to hell for drinking vodka for breakfast, handing out cigarettes to small children, and for an unfortunate string of incidents in 1998 that involved a furious monkey, 14,000 ping-pong balls and the eventual closure of I-95. But while we're going to hell, we're not going to hell for doing this. Someone else is.
"Kaba Kick is russian roulette for kids. The player points the gun at his or her own head and pulls the trigger. Instead of bullets, a pair of feet kick out from the barrel (which is shaped like a pink hippo). If the gun doesn't fire, the player earns points." Nice to see they're still making educational toys.
You've probably heard about "Michael Bay's blog" already, but if you haven't been made aware of its existence, this is part of our campaign to help it reach the saturation point before the lawyers get involved. With insightful passages like "Dating Fez has become a euphamism at Casa De Bay; it means you're stretched out. This kid is a Scott Biao for the 21st century." It's the perfect way to get your morning started.
You're probably dreaming about going home right about now, maybe making yourself a giant sized sandwich, taking off your shoes and settling in for a nice afternoon of DVD watching. But since you're at fucking work on Good Friday, about to blow an entire weekend decorating, searching for and eating a wide variety of eggs with your family, the least we could do was show you this little video compilation of awesomeness. You're welcome.
European commercials are about nineteen billion times better than American commercials. Why? Because they're able to laugh at things without wondering whether Jesus would be laughing, too. Like this little gem from the Swedish furniture cult, Ikea, which doesn't sell hip furniture so much as the virtue of keeping your place clean. Just imagine if *this* ran during Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on Sunday? Exactly. (NOTE: It's much funnier with the sound on.)
Since we're all about being helpful today, we wanted to let you all know that there's this totally bonkers lady out there who plays a "theremin bra" and makes these psychedelic videos for her songs. Why, exactly, is this helpful information, you wonder? Because you might have lived your whole life without experiencing this and that is not a live fully lived.
Thousands of years ago, when people died they were lucky to be buried. But nowadays, well, let's just say we've come a long way from pine boxes. There are all kinds of caskets -- from rose to oak to mahogany and all the shades in between, like "Ohio University," "Angels" and "United States Air Force." Scroll down to see the really sweet ones.
You have to work hard to give yourself a repetitive stress injury. Essentially, you do the same thing over and over again until you inflame the tendons, which attach muscles to bone, and the bursae, which act as a cushion between the tendon and the bone. (These maladies are called "tendinitis" and "bursitis".) Why the medical lesson? We wanted to warn you -- this clip is highly addictive. We're on our 156th viewing this morning. And boy does our arm hurt.
Dear Mom, today was a great day at camp. We dressed up like D&D characters and went into the woods to pretend we were slaying monsters. I got to be the magician! And that means I have special lightning bolt powers. It was so rad. I just kept yelling lightning bolt and throwing rocks at my friends until they fell down. We even have video of it, remixed to Slayer. In other news, I'm never coming home.
If you've got, like, six minutes to burn at any point today, then please get yourself a nice beverage, kick back, click this link and settle in to watch some TV on your work computer. It's a little foreign film short called "7:35 in the Morning" by a brilliant man named Nacho Vigalondo, who was nominated for an Academy Award for best live action short film. Try to dial down the ADD and pay attention, okay? It's totally worth it.
It's Monday and we're grumpy, so it's probably a decent time to check in with the Lord to see if he can help us with the billions of problems that are popping up if we'll openly admit how much we fucked up this past weekend. (Granted, it's a long shot, but the caffeine hasn't kicked in yet.) Luckily, these guys have collected all of the patron saints -- covering everything from abdominal pain to wool manufacturers. It's like a Yellow Pages for God.
ESPN, in its misguided attempt to be more than just SportsCenter, has created an utterly unwatchable show called Dream Job, in which five washed-up, semi-obscure pros compete for a job talking basketball on the air. This, of course, means you're not only listening to people talk about basketball, but people doing it poorly. Our point? ESPN should have hired this guy, who gives an amazing play-by-play of an automobile accident... while calling his boss to tell him he'll be late for work. It's worth the download.
The sexiest thing about being Celtic is, um, hold on... the tattoos! No, no, no. The tattoos are nice, but that's not it. It's the... food! Okay, that was a joke. It's certainly not the basketball team, although the recent Antoine Walker trade has made them a billion times more watchable... Wait. Yeah. The sexiest thing about being Celtic is the green and white striped shirts you get to wear. It's so sexy there's an entire site devoted to this peculiar brand of Celtic sexiness.
Sure, it's always fun to see celebrities without their makeup, or celebrities going to the grocery store in sweatpants. But you know what's even better? An entire blog devoted to celebrities blinking. Absolutely no one looks pretty when they're blinking, so think of that the next time you're going through that roll of vacation photos and you think you look like you've been afflicted by some kind of palsy.
"Okay, okay. So, we're all totally crap at basketball, none of us can hit a layup, let alone a three-pointer. I accept that. But guys, we have this totally hot chick here, and we're all kinda burly... Come on! We'll just... Exactly. Finally, we'll be able to beat those pesky neighborhood kids at Horse. I mean, let's just see them try and hit this shot..."
When did fat people turn into left-handed people? Morbidly obese people used to stumble through life using tools meant for far smaller humans. There weren't special big people products, unless you're willing to make a case for drawstring pants. But now? Not so much. Companies cater to the very big, like, oh, The Great John Toilet company, which makes a toilet that's got more surface area, is easier to get up from and is bolted to the floor with a second set of anchors. Must be good -- check out how happy they are.
Let's pretend, for a second, that you've got a fistful of painkillers. Or maybe you don't. Maybe you've got some of Mommy's Xanax. It could be some cough syrup, a nice glass of red wine or the ass-end of a joint. Whatever. Any substance you use to relax and put you in a pleasant mood. Since you're at work, just imagine you've taken a lot of whatever chills you out. Ready? Feel nice and squishy inside? Good. Now click here to see a bunch of horses pretend they're dogs.
It's already Wednesday. It's already March. Baseball's a month away and before you know it, that bulky winter jacket will get stuffed back in the closet and you'll be watching sunsets at seven. Time flies unless you take the time to truly savor the little moments, the softer side of life. And that's why we're showing you this. It's oddly soothing. No one gets hit in the crotch, no one vomits on a table, no one gets hurt and there's no punchline. It's just an ad for a bike that seats seven.
The best thing about all these new mash up tribute band thingies is that they're so efficient. Who has time to listen to both the Beatles *and* Metallica? Not us. We've got a cup of coffee to drink and a stack of New Yorkers to catch up on. That's why we're so damned thankful that Beatallica exists...well, for now. (Check out "Sandman." Seriously.) Listen to these guys before Sony catches them and sues them into going away.
Some lessons you learn the hard way. Like those poor saps who ignore the "Don't Feed The Bears" signs at the park and end up with a Grizzly chewing through their windshield to get at a can of Pringles. The same goes for redneck comedians. Do not taunt the redneck comedian, especially if he's holding a guitar and charging into the audience.
Got a solid five minutes to waste today? Check out this film from some people called "The Citizens Against Safety Googles" called Ebony. It features a shirtless dude powerwalking, a lipsynching jelly donut, lots of keyboardy French sounding music, a car chase, ridiculous lyrics, a trip to visit Satan and well, it's just totally bizarre. Not necessarily funny -- and you'll never get these five minutes back -- but what the hell, it's free.
The Internet gives and gives and gives. And just when you think the Internet couldn't possibly have anything left to give, that you've absolutely seen every oddball site, someone decides it would be a good idea to play "washroom attendant" in one of the world's largest McDonalds. And so we take the magical Internet machine to 42nd street, where employees are oblivious and foreigners are blissing out over sweets in the bathroom.
Anyone ever hear of Thundaar the Barbarian? Anyone?! This obscure Saturday morning cartoon from the early 1980s appears to have developed a cult following. (Crazy, right?) Who would have ever thought that this bit of pop kitsch from an pre-responsibilities, pre-adulthood era would be so incredibly popular now? We can't wait to buy the ringer T-tube socks-lunchbox combo at a Hot Topic sometime this winter.
When you plunk down $1,300 for a roundtrip ticket to Jakarta, you're going. Doesn't matter that a tsunami of biblical proportions has gutted the island and people are still dragging out the dead. You are going on that fucking vacation! And you're going to feel good about yourself, as you stand there, in a too-tight banana hammock holding an Amstel Light, because you are supporting their economy while sunning yourself by the debris.