Posts filed under ‘random ranting’

Bromantic Comedies

bromance original recipe

bromance original recipe

Unless you have been under a rock, you may have heard the word Bromance being thrown around. For those of you who may be confused by the abstract idea, it involves two guys, probably between the ages of 16 and 36, who have a best friends forever  type of relationship. This friendship can also deter women from getting involved with either guy, since he’s already in a monogomous relationship with his BFF, thus, Bromance.

summer lovin': happened so fast

summer lovin': happened so fast

I watched The Wackness yesterday. Ben Kingsley plays a perv, and pervs Mary Kate Olson, and does a lot of pharmaceutical drugs to early 1990s rap jams.  I especially enjoyed the parts that make fun of the inadequacies of high school guys in the bedroom. Anyway, I realized by the end of the movie, the two main characters shared a special summer Bromance in NYC in 1994. How cute.

Bromantic Comedies have been popular since before the word Bromance existed. Take Weird Science for example. This is especially interesting because they create a woman, who helps them eventually get other women. The whole premise of this is romantic in  that they solve their romance problems together. They would probably like my idea of a four way marriage. This comprises two men and two women. So when you get sick of one husband you can have another one, and it’s less responsibility for everyone involved. Plus in hard economic times like this, its better value for your money.

the right idea

the right idea

If you aren’t up to the responsibility of a long-term Bromance, or even a summer Bromance, you could try just a weekend bender sort of thing. You should make sure your boss invites you to his sweet weekend house by the beach. When he accidentally dies the first day,  make hilarity ensue with your bromantic counterpart by pretending your boss is still alive. Instant memories.

its such a perfect day, Im glad I spent it with you

it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you

So I guess all I’m getting at is if you want to make a really good movie, it should be based on a Bromantic story. This is a guranteed success, with males and females alike. Although, if you are lucky, it will only be popular with males, and you can make like, 100 more bros to share bromantic adventures and times with.

-posted by samsquared

Advertisements

May 18, 2009 at 4:05 PM 3 comments

Non Sequiturs, Vol. 2: Verizon culture wars

– posted by russellmania3000

This isn’t really my attempt to be clever or write Twitter-style without using Twitter or whatever, these are just things that if I were in a more self-indulgent mood, I would try to stretch into full written pieces but I’m not so here they all are.

On the subject of Twitter, I registered a few accounts on Twitter for my name and working alias, and one for Redikulus more as just a joke for Sam. I came down pretty hard on Twitter before, and I haven’t entirely had a change of heart, but the issue comes down to one of 1) protecting your name/personal brand, and, especially for design and marketing people like myself, 2) cultural/tech/media literacy. Twitter may be stupid or turn out to be a passing fad, but it’s important to be familiar with the new ways people chose to communicate. You may not like TV or fashion mags either but you won’t go far in design and marketing if you don’t understand or at least make an attempt to learn the nuances of the media you deal with. Besides, if you meet someone you want to have in your corner and they ask if you’re on Twitter, you don’t want to be the guy who obstinately says “I don’t do that.” You don’t have to use it, just have it available for a rainy day. It’s just a good idea in the same way registering the URL for your name or having a Gmail account using your name is a good idea.

I used to feel guilty or slack-ass for not writing more blog, and Sam and I would get on each other’s case about it, but since we’ve lost a little interest and don’t have the time or sense of urgency as much as when we first started, I assuage my anxiety by convincing myself that the relative rarity of our posts makes our blog more valuable, more like a quarterly journal of literary review or something.

I’ve got the cheapo freebee kind of phone (12-button keypad, not a full qwerty keyboard) so when I send text messages, its inordinately difficult to use profanity. The mode that guesses what word I want refuses to admit that I might be interested in cursing and hammering that shit out manually is just stupid and time-consuming, especially because I have to switch from guessing mode to manual and then back to guessing mode when I’m done. People who pay more for phones get the added benefit of the Verizon moral police leaving them the hell alone. Fuck that shit. What business does Verizon or Samsung have making it more difficult for me to use in private conversation words that the FCC unilaterally decided aren’t appropriate for public broadcast? Speaking of, if this digital TV transition ever actually happens and over-the-air goes away, wouldn’t that leave no reason for the FCC to exist?

It just occurred to me that while at first skydivers seem really impressive, what’s more impressive is the skydiving cameraman. Clearly he’s performing the more challenging activity of the two. I don’t necessarily mean skydiving, maybe rock climbing or hang gliding or skiing or other dangerous/physically demanding activities where some people do it and then some other guy does it too but with camera in tow and manages to get some good shots.

I’m not a big soda drinker, but here’s the key to enjoying a carbonated beverage: ginger ale/Sprite-ish stuff tastes much better close to room temperature but cola/root beer/Dr. P is better refrigerated. I say refrigerated and not chilled because putting ice in soda is just about as bad as putting ice in good scotch. I don’t want to hear anything to the contrary.

May 12, 2009 at 8:12 PM Leave a comment

I Got Dance in My Pants

This is a magical dancing man. He will probably annoy you. His name is Mike Long, and I am pretty sure he is my soul mate. Turns out we have a lot in common. Dancing, design, fun, colorful sneakers, sweet shades and beards. I don’t have a beard, but if I was a dude I imagine I would have a really sweet beard like his. Also, he’s from Canada, and I’ve always liked Canada, unlike most of American. Anyway, he danced everyday for a year, and he pretty much still dances a lot. Its not something you can stop once you’ve started. This video features Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings, who are an excellent band if you are not familiar. Let me tell you a story:

Amy Winehouse was an okay singer. Amy Winehouse had a shitty band and was never going to be famous although she looked just like she should be famous because she was very alt looking. Then she got really lucky because Mark Ronson was all up on the Dap Kings and got them to play her album. Everyone wins, because they all get paid. Except we lose, because we have to know who Amy Winehouse is and what a trainwreck she consistently is. Sharon Jones plays with the Dap Kings and she doesn’t do piles of heroin, not surpsingly, not many people know who she is. She also has moves.

make it rain!

make it rain!

Some of you may have also seen this dancin’ machine, who is a MFA student in Yale’s Design School. This guy has a much more electro-tronic taste, and is very Bootylicious. Now while Mr. Kim has a pretty awesome fashion sense, I still prefer the Beard and sunglasses look. I’m obsessed with sunglasses, here are some suggestions for your summer purchase:

note: do not wear at night.

note: do not wear at night.

I also may or may not have been in and out of the country lately. This would explain my abcense in the internetz and my blog. This also goes to show you can’t count on Russ to run a blog on his own. Anyway, I scored some sweet 45s because I like funny record covers, and now I will share some amazing songs with you.

Grenadine Heart, MMM!

Grenadine Heart, MMM!

I can’t embed this great one by Week’s & Co, but trust me when I say, this video is worth it. I promise silver boots, and disgusting choreography.

It may seem a bit harsh, but this picture does Imagination no justice to the one on the 45 I have. I guess a white Grand Piano just really gets these guys in the mood for seductive faces and crawling, and they are just not that into squats.

can you imagine, gold garters?

can you imagine, gold garters?

Happy Monday!

-posted by samsquared

March 23, 2009 at 8:25 PM Leave a comment

Crazy Affirmation: Animal Conversations

sunset1

Sadly, I didn’t receive any requests for me to affirm anything for anyone this week. I would just like to say congratulations to all of you, for being so self-affirming. I’m proud of you. But the weekly post must be posted weekly, and so we press on. This week, I am going to address the phenomena of people who talk to animals. Those who are animaphonic (capable of speaking to animals) are a strange and mixed group.

Exhibit A:

I may or may not have view Dunston Checks In this week.  My point here is this. Some times talking to animals (usually monkeys who are robbers) can be hilarious. There are a slew of monkey movies out there that follow this framework, namely Monkey Trouble with a young, boyish Thora Birch and some more obscure movies like Funky Monkey, MVP: Most Valuable Primate, and MXP: Most Extreme Primate.

Exhibit B:

On the other hand, most people who talk to animals are a few marbles short, and you probably want to stay away. I also may or may not have seen a portion of a made for TV movie about Oliver Twist.Since most of you probably aren’t familiar with this version of Oliver Twist, in which a character named Fagin speaks to a crow in his rafters. He’s exceedingly creepy, and to drive the creepiness home, here’s a picture of Timothy Spall as Fagin in this movie. You may have seen him in Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban, Lemony Snickets, or Sweeny Todd being additionally creepy.

Timothy Spall is a professional creeper

Timothy Spall is a professional creeper

Exhibit C:

We also have the Wicked Witch of the West.Now this woman had all kinds of issues.  She may have spoke with monkeys, but they were flying monkeys.

everyone seems to be enjoying themselves here

everyone seems to be enjoying themselves here

If you haven’t at one point in your life wished for a legion of flying monkeys to do your bidding, you’re doing it all wrong. This is where the talking to monkeys thing stops being funny, and starts being freaky and sort of awesome. But I guess dressing in black and having green face doesn’t really get you too far, might as well embrace it.

Exhibit D:

Then we have the case of Alice in Wonderland. Ah yes, Wonderland. I still want to go here, and if talking to a OCD white rabbit with severe concerns about being punctual takes me there, I’ll talk to him. I’ll even sing him a song and dance. That is clearly the correct hole to fall down, even for all the troubles it causes her. Alice is simply one of those characters in a story who doesn’t understand how to make the best of a poor situation.

running so late, he forgot his pants

running so late, he forgot his pants

This goes for characters like Sara in the Labyrinth as well. Marry David Bowie, and his purple package. I don’t see the downside in the situation. He clearly states, “Forget about the baby.”  Win, win.

Okay. With all the evidence before us, I feel it’s safe to make our affirmation. I would like to affirm that its pefectly acceptable to talk with animals under a few conditions. It can be that it is hilarious. Its always good to do things for a laugh. It’s also acceptable if the animals understand you and do your bidding. Lastly, I find it acceptable to talk to the animals if it is going to be beneficial to you. (i.e. becoming Goblin Queen/wife of David Bowie) Never fail to be an oppourtunist. The only way talking to animals isn’t okay is if you are really crazy and creepy, or if someone is going to see you doing this and have you comitted. Now go make some friends, I’m sure there’s some pigeons or squirrels near by.

-posted by samsquared

February 19, 2009 at 9:14 PM 1 comment

What time is it?

I’ve already gotten used to the idea my blog might cause some ruckus amongst my friends. Either because they sincerely disagree, think I am being too much of an ignoramus, or just to play Devil’s advocate. Recently, I noted people get very heated over Kevin Smith movies. Mostly because I refuse to acknowledge that Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back is crap. I believe that the part in the end in which they attend a Morris Day &  the Time concert in which everyone is dancing to Jungle Love really embodies everything life should be, could be and more. And thus, makes up for the crap that may or may not precede it. I wish life was more like Morris Day & the Time.

yes, more key-tars! more gold suits! MORE DANCING!

yes, more key-tars! more gold suits! MORE DANCING!

So this past weekend, we watched Purple Rain for Valentine’s Day. Who could ask for a better date than a date with Prince and Appolonia. I’m not going to discuss the details of the movie, most of you are already familiar with it. However, what’s important here is the movie trailer included with the DVD of Purple Rain, Graffiti Bridge. Here, enlighten yourself.

My favorite part about not having seen Graffiti Bridge yet, is that I can read the Netflix user comments and half care. One user said Prince must have been using the same stylist as Michael Jackson at this time, and I laughed, and agreed. Nothing like some sexy pasty men who know how to use a hair straightener. Oh wait, those are emo kids.

sorry to frighten you all

sorry to frighten you all

he's thinking he went wrong here, he's right

he's thinking he went wrong here, he's right

There’s really not much Prince has done wrong in his life. So I can excuse him for the bad hair, and other bad decisions probably involved in this movie. Some who find themselves jealous question his sexuality, but that’s okay, but Prince definitely knows he likes women and gets plenty of them, so this is a non-issue. Prince still rules, and always will. If you are unsure of that, there’s always this, (and thanks to Steve for sending this over):

you want some segway, bitches?

you want some segway, bitches?

Even in frilly shirts, velvet pants, and high heels, he’ll kick your ass.

-posted by samsquared

February 17, 2009 at 6:47 PM Leave a comment

Affirmation Station: Ginger-vitis

sunset

I have decided to do a weekly affirmation. If I am ever going to get my cult going, I am going to have to start addressing people’s concerns and issues. So if you feel something needs to be reaffirmed, feel free to send us an email. I’ll do my best to affirm its place in the world. Oh, it’s also for random bits of knowledge, because I’m really good at seeking out some weird stuff. I decided, since feeling down earlier this week, to reaffirm why I am awesome, and in particular, why Gingers are awesome.

we aint goin down like that!

we ain't goin' down like that!

Gingers are rather enigmatic. Some of us are gorgeous (I like to think I fall into this category) and some of us, are.. not. We do have lots more in common than just the recessive genes that gave us the ginger color. For example, I don’t know one Ginger who really enjoys references to our fiery colored pubic hair. For one, pubic hair isn’t something anyone really likes to focus on. That’s why waxing and shaving is such a big market, people are never going to want to stop getting rid of body hair. So what if it’s a new color variety you haven’t seen before. Second of all, don’t knock it til you tried it. I know you’re jealous because that hair coloring kit you bought in Summer Sunset tells you not to use it down there. But lets get back to why we are awesome, and subsequently not going extinct.

Yes, the new rumor, that we are all dying off. You know what the rumor used to be? That’s right, rumors about redheads have been thought up since the dawning of time. There was plenty about the “Redbeards” who took over America, floating in on their clouds, to wreak havoc on super advanced civilizations. I especially like the rumors from those days about how we came from space, and the ones where we are the spawn of Satan. That’s right. Hail Satan bitches.We are not dying off, but scientists get sick of talking about how the Earth IS dying off, and fat people are not.

ginger smarts

ginger smarts

While watching the inauguration, someone said I might understand why everyone was crying once a Ginger became president. Tough shit, there already was one! Thomas Jefferson. And technically, all those old fogies at the beginning of our nation wanted another Ginger, Benjamin Franklin, to be president. He politely declined and suggested George Washington. There’s all kind of righteous redheads, and we have to do a lot of cleaning up for the redheads, who are well, not so righteous.

Where was I? Oh yes, redheads who make up for shiteous redheads. I won’t put myself on the list, or people I know, but there’s a few of us out there, flaming proud. Ours is a light and it never goes out!

since when was I hot?

We somtimes forget where we are...

We somtimes forget where we are...

Im hot when I dont date Marilyn Manson

I'm hot when I don't date Marilyn Manson

we wish you were still this hot

we wish you were still this hot

We also have the fakers, or the unsures, or the trainwrecks who aren’t doing anyone any good.

please leave

please leave

please make the pain stop!

please make the pain stop!

I think this shows that despite a few of God’s, we’ll call them ‘mistakes’, gingers have been relatively successful and attractive humans. Gingers generally affirmed.

Also, if you missed it, Jim Gaffigan made a guest appearance on Flight of the Conchords this past week. Aside from him knitting, he refers to his ginger down low as a fire belt. Murray refers to his hair color as electric copper. This was a special episode you need to catch, especially if you have ginger love.

February 13, 2009 at 7:58 PM Leave a comment

A conversation we have all of us had

– posted by russellmania3000

It begins something like this:

Act I, Scene I: The scene opens to the cold light of dawn. Two middle-aged men exit a makeshift trading post/tavern made of rotting beechwood located on the desolate main drag of a lonely rural mining town. Their skin is leathery and worn full of crevices such that a close-up photograph of one of their cheeks might look like a topographical image of the Himalayas. They walk together, blowing steamy breath into clenched fists and speaking in hushed tones. They wear silly fur hats.

Dmitri: What is this, this Sonic? Day after day I see their advertisements on the moving picture box, teasing and tempting me with their patties of ground beef, and slushie happy hours, and tots! Oh, the tots! But here, in the frozen wastes of the Urals, such an establishment there is not. Believe me comrade, I have looked, for my eyes long for the sight and my tongue for the taste.

Vladimir: They are places of legend, my friend, for in all my wandering I have happened upon nary a one for many moons. You will not find Sonic and her fresh bounties within 500 leagues of this place. But I have many fond memories of a carefree childhood in Omsk, for it was there that my family took my sister and me weekly to market and, after a long day of trading and peddling our wares in the village square, we ate a hearty meal of breakfast burritos and onion rings. Those were happier days. But here in the mines of Narodnaya, for us there is only sweat and dust and the meager root stew.

Dmitri: But why, Vladimir, tell me, why do they mock us with promotional messages for goods which we cannot procure? Surely such a ruse is not worth the price!

Vladimir: It is a strange and cruel fate that we should be cast so from the light and warmth of the simple pleasures we desire most.

Exeunt Dmitri and Vladimir stage left. End scene.

Or in 3-panel strip form, if you prefer it.

Like many of you, for years I have seen Sonic ads on TV, shaken my fist at the heavens, spat at almighty God and persevered. Or just went to Five Guys. I don’t want to make pithy banter with a balding friend or dumpy-looking wife or chubby Paris Hilton lookalike and even more busted female. And by busted I don’t mean she has nice mammaries or resembles a plaster cast from the shoulders up. I mean that when photons bounce off her body and are recorded by a camera, and this recording is played back so that more photons in the pattern of her visage scurry in the direction of my ocular cavity, the net result is an unpleasant sensation in my cerebellum. No, I just want a burger.

Last week some coworkers and I took a little 20-minute excursion up I-95 to get to the nearest Sonic, which was out in Bensalem in a run down industrial area that I would have no reason to go to otherwise. This kind of thing isn’t uncommon for us; we’ve driven a half hour to get to an Arby’s because, let’s be honest, time out of the office is time out of the office any way you slice it. Sonic’s website says “[t]here are more than 3400 SONIC® Drive-In locations across the country.” Just none where you live. Especially if you live in a city. Bensalem is not a city. In any case, if you haven’t been or even seen one (both my seeing and tasting cherries were popped with one thrust), Sonic is indeed delicious, though it would have been more delicious if a girl on roller skates brought out our food on one of those trays that hooks onto the car door.

But all this skullduggery does have an explanation, and a method behind the apparent scattershot advertising strategy. National cable advertising is, at certain volumes, cheaper than regionally targeted advertising, so that’s a no brainer right there. But the genius of the whole thing is that it drives people mad with wonder and envy. How flabbergasting it must be, as say, a resident of metropolitan New York, to find yourself jealous of some yokel from Georgia or Tennessee or where-bumblefucking-ever because they have a Sonic and you don’t, and you have to pay out the ass for McDonald’s in NY. They’ve stumbled upon the holy grail of marketing, sort of. They’ve achieved the kind of viral, word-of-mouth-driven national discussion that everyone wants, over the subject of “where the fuck is there a Sonic,” simply by advertising something that’s not available. Now, whenever they open a new joint, they get all kinds of media coverage and blog hype and lines around the block because they’ve been advertising for years to people who want to be customers but can’t.

This is not a new strategy or phenomenon. Companies have been doing this for decades in areas where they plan to launch. You’ll notice the ambiguous “Respekt” outdoor ads for Cricket mobile phone services around Philadelphia presently. They’re not available here yet, but they will be soon, and at that point they’ll start to demystify their messaging and identify that top-heavy K with their wordmark/logotype (a befuddling design choice). The difference here is Cricket isn’t offering any specific deal or even saying who they are, which is…I don’t know, who cares. But Sonic is offering free tots and gigantic slushies for under $1 to anyone in the nation lucky enough to live by or drive by one and that’s apparently been pretty rabble-rousing. The more significant difference is that Cricket’s hype/awareness campaign, and most things of that nature, will last maybe weeks or months. I’m not positive but Leap, their owner, has indicated they hope to that by the end of this year they will have rolled out service in all 27 markets they won bids on in the 2006 FCC auction. By contrast, Sonic has been advertising in Philadelphia and other major metropolitan areas for years and have yet to announce any new locations there. In fact there may never be a Sonic in Philly. But their incessant advertising has given them a legion of customers-in-waiting who are ready for a cross-country road trip, or like me, the opportunity to take an extra long lunch.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, as a marketing guy, I am delighted that a protracted campaign designed to frustrate and drive people bats might actually work really well. It would sure be fun to try.

PS: holy balls.

February 12, 2009 at 2:54 PM Leave a comment

Older Posts


Categories

Feeds