War Machine much?

Chew on this one, Don Cheadle.

Original image from yahoo movies.

Celebrity Monday!

Hey readers, it's Celebrity Monday on the Tirade!!!

I'd like to honestly tell you that every Monday I'll be talking about the latest in hot celebrity news, gossip and events, but that's the most idiotic shit I've ever heard in my life.

No, I just have two quick points to make on this November-Rain-Ridden Monday.

1. TIGER WOODS.

Come on, media. Seriously? The guy felt like hitting a tree with his car. Back the hell off. This is one of those times when being a celebrity really sucks. Actually, to say that more accurately, this is probably the 1,495,245th reason why being a celebrity sucks.

I know how he feels, really. One time I backed my truck up into a giant concrete hand rail at the Yellow House in college. The concrete dented the hell out of my bumper, and it seemed the cops and local newspapers were there in seconds. Jared McClane and I had to make up some big story about me slipping on the clutch while on our way to feed the homeless to protect myself from the REAL truth. (We were carrying in a bunch of cases of Natural Light and I accidentally smashed into the stairs while trying to get the truck as close as I could to the door because we were lazy and also some chicks drove by waving.)

Anyway, who cares what the guy was doing? He could have been doing anything from sleepwalking to mindlessly doing his mad-scientist-master's evil bidding.

Everybody knows how those mad scientist guys plant tiny robot chips inside people's brains that force them into doing all kinds of stuff against their will. What do you think actually caused Margot Kidder's incident? You think Eddie Murphy actually likes getting it on with transvestites? You think Hugh Grant actually enjoyed hooking it up with prostitutes? You think that Nick Nolte's amazing mug shot was all his fault? (Well. You know.)

Bottom line: the guy doesn't have to explain a damn thing.

CNN: Shouldn't you have some Jessica Simpson stories to cover?

2. LUKE WILSON

Man, I just caught some cell phone commercial this weekend that had Luke Wilson throwing a bunch of crap on some giant map of America. I guess he was talking about how many places you can call or something.

Editor's note: I guess it's important that you have the ability to call the furthest reaches of Alaska, Hawaii or space with your cell phone, but how much bearing does that really have on you when it comes time to renew some contract? I guess it's pretty important, according to the business guys and Luke Wilson. I personally loathe cell phones and I hate text messages even more... but if some sales guy told me that I'd have the ability to call any given location in the entire nation from Maine to Southern California, I'd totally buy the service and call every possible human being I could. (That includes you, Hermit Johnson. Now with this new Luke Wilson cell phone plan, I can even reach you in the furthest regions of your cave deep in the cracks of the ice-cold Rocky Mountains. I'll look forward to our phone conversation tomorrow about last week's episode of Desperate Housewives.)

Anyway, you gotta wonder why Luke Wilson is fat now, right? Man, the guy looks really rough! Typically I don't care about this type of thing, but I've always identified with Wilson's skinny ass and slightly whining cadence. Now the cadence is still there, but the thinness skipped town with his dignity for doing a cell phone commercial.

Yeah, yeah, I know it's shallow, sure. But, dammit, Wilson has been a life-long man crush for me and this kind of thing is really disappointing. I equate it to the nightmarish feeling of confusion that would follow seeing Chris Farley or John Candy appear on a cell phone commercial looking 155 pounds. Damn I miss those guys.

Anyway, that should wrap up Celebrity Monday on the Tirade. I don't think I accomplished anything or made any coherent points... but, by God, it's America. Here in America, we have the right to completely obsess over celebrities and subconsciously act like total narcissistic idiots when discussing their personal lives.

May the wings of liberty never lose a feather,

-McClane

Vanish

Ah yeah, what's shakin' Tirade fans and total strangers who might have found this blog by mistakingly looking for a Die Hard fan club,

The real McClane here with a non-apologetic plug. I just finished reading the best magazine article I've ever read in my life.

Writer Evan Ratliff wrote a fantastic piece in the September 2009 edition of WIRED magazine about men and women who've attempted to disappear completely and start new lives, and the stories behind their adventures and eventual busts.

After doing the research, studying past stories and learning everything he could about it... this crazy bastard decides to try it out for himself. Evan Ratliff disappeared on August 13, 2009 and WIRED magazine offered $5,000 to whoever could track this guy down. Using any means necessary to find him, an entire nation started stalking this writer as he made his way across the country and back again.

This is the story behind his disappearance, his hunters and his first-person adventures along the way. Ratliff's disguises, fake-outs, red herrings and switch-ups are even more awesome than that time Harrison Ford went on that one-armed-man-hunting rampage.

This story gets my highest possible recommendation.

You can find the first article by Ratliff from the September 2009 issue HERE.

You can read the entire story by clicking right HERE.

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Then, as a bonus, WIRED magazine goes further to provide these amazing other pieces to the story:

You can see all the press and media that got involved HERE.

You can see all the social media sources & hunters that contributed to the chase HERE.

You can read stories from the most prominent hunters HERE.

You can view an image gallery of all of Ratliff's disguises HERE.

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Finally, I guess a lot of people have wondered why Ratliff didn't just go completely off the grid and vanish entirely into mist or smoke or something like a scene from a Billy Ocean video.

It would be no problem to just uproot your life and go live in some cabin in Colorado like a creepy loser hermit guy, sure. If Ratliff had felt like pulling a Jeremiah Johnson and vanishing into some woods, WIRED readers wouldn't have stood a chance. CLICK HERE to learn from the editors at WIRED why Ratliff did it the way he did it. Absolutely amazing stuff.

So if you've ever dreamt of kissing your life goodbye in lieu of a shiny new life full of possibilities and wonderment, consult this story before you dye your hair and hop on some Greyhound bus across the nation.

Unless, of course, you have your sights set on living off the land in some wilderness campground with a pet bear. I would hope the reasons behind this would be an alien attack on major cities, unstoppable zombie outbreak or being a total loser with a flesh-eating disease. If that's the case, don't forget your big ass backpack full of canned beans and salted pork, bud. Happy trails.

Disappearing from your sights but not your hearts,

-The REAL McClane

Happy Thanksgiving! Yaaaaayyyyyy!!!!

Hey Thanksgiving lovers!

This video was yanked right off Landline TV, courtesy of my man Joe Powell. Go visit Joe's blog right now, or he'll sneak into your room late at night, trick you into giving away all your land and infect you with Small Pox.

Now enjoy a wonderful Thanksgiving message, brought to you by adorable children:

Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!

Muah.

-M

Get your Troll on.

Hey blog fans!

Due to an insane life lately full of wacky adventures and a bunch of design work, I haven't had a whole ton of time to come and visit you. I realize that's the same exact excuse that college kids give their grandparents in nursing homes, but I really do mean it for you guys.

Even though I hate your smell and your creepy roommate who randomly cries and steals your Sunny Delight late at night while you're sleeping with your oxygen mask on.

Anyway, I just watched this amazing film the other night called "Troll 2." A lot of you guys already know about it, because if you're reading this blog right now you're more than likely a huge geek or you secretly want to be one. Or you're straight-up stalking me.

Anyway, this movie is way past amazing. You can Google it up and read all about it... and when you do, you'll discover that it's actually one of the worst films ever made. I thought that was a little hard to swallow until I actually watched it... and the entire time I thought I was dreaming. People like to use those kinetic expressions these days that demonstrate how moved or touched they were by a film: "That film ripped my face off," "That film skull-fucked my soul," "that film just intoxicated my dog and left me limbless and helpless in a ditch outside some seedy Mexican bar full of vampires and cast members of some recent Ron Howard movie..."

You get the idea.

Well anyway, this movie did all those things to me and more. It gets my highest recommendation, and I'd also advise getting absolutely tanked, ripped, stoned, smashed or hammered before watching it. That will thin out your blood and cause your brain to slip into total euphoria faster and more efficiently.

Anyway, here's a fantastic clip full of some of the best Troll 2 moments, just so you can get a feel for what I'm talking about:

No matter how hard I try, there's no way I can write any witty one-liner or clever quip that's ever going to be able to follow that video. I'll leave it with you, guys.

I love all y'all.

Especially you lovely stalkers.

-McClane

Couple of Dicks

Hey 80's & 90's buddy cop movie lovers,

You ever hear about a movie that's not scheduled to be released until next year and you really, really wish it could be released tomorrow instead? I ran across one of those today, and the review was extremely fun.

Normally I don't link to other movie reviews here on the Tirade, but this movie sounds so fun that I had to point a link its way.

Go learn about that cell phone costume.

This promotion is actually because I absolutely adore buddy cop films. Well, let me re-state that more clearly... I really love "good" buddy cop movies from the 80's and 90's. You know the ones I'm talking about, right? Here's a few:

Tango & Cash.

Stallone, Russell, Palance. Eat that for supper, short stack.

48 HOURS.

Eddie Murphy pops up on the scene for the first time with Nick Nolte in tow. If you don't think this movie could kick the shit out of 10 buckets of puppies and laugh, you're not even human.

LETHAL WEAPON.

Enough said here.

Beverly Hills Cop.

Murphy + 80's = the golden era.

The Last Boy Scout.

Everybody knows how much I love Shane Black screenplays, and he's already got two on this list. This is, hands down, my most loved Bruce Willis film to date.

Other awesome movies to note are Collision Course, Dragnet, Red Heat, Point Break, Turner & Hooch, Die Hard with a Vengeance, any movie where Steven Seagal teams up with some rapper guy and the awesome Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang, which puts another Shane Black script on the list.

There's a whole ton of idiotic ones out there too, but I won't mention any Bad Boys, Showtime, Blue Streak, Metro or Stop Or My Mom Will Shoot in this post.

Enjoy the review and man, I can't wait until February to check this one out. The trailers better be awesome, and if I don't hear any synthesizer music playing in the background with over-emphasized punching sounds and the obligatory buddy fist fight, I'm cashing in the chips and going home.

Wishing I could team up with you to fight some drug dealers, vicious cartel or some corporation with a deep-seeded conspiracy,

-McClane

P.S. You can be the cop guy. I'd much rather play the part of some unpredictable loose cannon who's not afraid to dive in to trouble without a badge or any semblance of logic. I'd also be the guy who scores with all the chicks while your lame, married ass stays at home with the kids.

Screw the magazine security guard!!!

Hey annoying advertising fans & criminally insane radioactive supervillains!

McClane here, the man who keeps the Tirade flame burning strong. So it's no shocker that I'm a fan of magazines, since I've been designing them for nearly four years. I have a ton of subscriptions, and it's always like Christmas morning when I pull one of those sumbitches out of my tiny apartment's mailbox. The hilariously bitter mailman always does the best job he can of jamming 'em in there with a vengeance.

(I swear I'm not being a hater here, but just between you and me, I think he's still in resentment mode for being born a man.)

Anyway, here's my process on a magazine day.

1. Put my key in the hole, attempt to turn it and realize there's obviously something big jammed in there stopping the system here.

2. Wrestle the door of the magazine like an alligator and finally pull the magazine out of the box like an aggressive carp.

3. Check out the sweet cover. I don't even pay much attention to what the words say, actually, on the first pass... I just check the typography trends, color scheme and boobs, if any, behind the words.

4. Actually read the words.

5. Rip open the plastic bag, if it has one, and take in the smell. There's always some hilarious smell that goes along with these books.

My GQ, for example, has exactly the kind of smell you'd expect GQ to have. You fellow readers know what I'm talking about... the sweet, sweet smell of a man who's bathed in three types of cologne and desperately trying to cover it up by dousing himself in ink and plastic.

WIRED magazine has the same ink & plastic smell without the cologne, but there's this other cool odor of modern technology permeating around that bag area. If, by "modern technology" I mean "cardboard," then yes... modern technology.

Texas Monthly smells like badass.

Atlanta Magazine smells like a woman who was running through a printing press, being chased by a perfume-covered cooking show host. And she was caught.

Field and Stream smells like deadly knives being sharpened by English Leather and bass.

Anyway, you get the idea. Real Simple, Esquire, other local magazines and publications all have their own smells, and I dig 'em all, right out of the mailbox.

6. Hold the magazine firmly by the spine and shake the living hell out of it over a trash can. Magazine circulation departments or marketing geniuses love to blow in subscription cards, and why not? They serve one of two purposes: getting a new subscription from you by putting an easy-to-fill-out card in your face... or annoying the living hell out of you. Unfortunately, I know from experience from both the marketing side and the reader side that they mostly just annoy the living hell out of you.

These things are literally blown into the magazine by a huge blower machine, and the chance of the cards going into the projected page spread are pretty decent... but sometimes it goes horribly wrong and you'll end up getting five of these cards falling out of the same page. You know what I'm talking about. That annoys the living hell out of me five times instead of just once. Sometimes I wish that blower machine was actually a dish washer machine instead. Not only would it clean my dishes and silverware with fantastic accuracy, but I could also throw a big grenade into it and blow it all to shit.

7. Get myself pumped up for #8 by going to a website like THIS ONE that gets me pretty pumped up.

8. Sit down somewhere comfy, cradle the magazine's spine in my left hand, and place my thumb on the right hand side of the book. From this point, I flip my life away. Just flip it, man. Flip it good.

Here's a good spot to let you in on my goal as a magazine reader: I want to be able to flip through this book smoothly, cleanly and evenly... stopping at any given page that catches my eye or peaks my interest with a huge photo or interesting typography.

There's one thing that tosses an aggressive spider monkey wrench into my plan:

HEAVY STOCK PAPER ADVERTISEMENTS.

I LOATHE these things. Typically, these things are going to be for a new perfume or cologne, car companies, cell phone companies and even tobacco. I won't list one company name on the Tirade, because these God-forsaken companies don't even merit the promotion.

Of course these guys want to stand out, poke out at you and be seen. For me, however, these things are the mean equivalent to a giant mutant zit on the tip of your nose, holding a chalk board in it's evil, clawed hand and a machine gun in the other. Not only does it claw its way down the chalk board with its puss-dripping fingernails, but it also just repetitively shoots you in the face with bullets made of rotten eggs and spoiled milk.

I take my time and take out some daily frustrations by savagely ripping these things out of the book, one by one.

Imagine if you were at this sweet water park and you'd waited all afternoon to slide down the most awesome slide in the park. It's probably awesome because it's fast, or has pipes or you ride a boat or it has topless lifeguard chicks or something, I don't know. Either way, it's awesome and you wanna ride it really bad.

Anyway, just when you get to the top... some crazy security guard tells you that nobody is allowed on the slide anymore because he wants to sell you a new car, some cigarettes, some busted perfume or trick you into thinking that he's telling you a funny story... when, in fact, he's just selling you on some busted multi-level marketing scheme. Every time you try to run around him and make a dive for the awesome topless water slide, he jumps in your face again. Over and over and over this happens. Finally, you get so frustrated that you just give up and go home. To your sad, sad life in the train yard slums.

Well I don't play that game at all. No, before I hear one single word or even look at the image on the guy's badge, I've already cold cocked the bitch in the neck, kicked out both of his kneecaps and thrown the guy over the rails.

Then I enjoy my awesome water slide, and it's every bit as fun as I thought it would be.

It doesn't stop there, oh no. Then I make a point to run around the water park, telling every human being I see to never buy the guy's products and to never listen to him at all. In fact, if I even see somebody listening to his busted rhetoric, I'll make a b-line drive to the person, kick the crap out of the security guard in front of him and buy the guy a nice milk shake or wind-up-toy souvenir from the gift shop.

Don't believe the hype, readers. Jump on the train and rip those things out of there.

Enjoy your water slide like it was meant to be enjoyed.

-McClane

I don't wanna scare anyone...

... but I'm gonna give it to you straight about Jason.

Happy Friday the 13th, Tirade fans!

Yeah, it's no surprise that this post was coming, but I'm all about pleasing the fans. It's just like one of those big Roman colosseum things where all people want is blood and carnage and those Emperor dudes just keep on feeding random guys to lions.

Instead of writing a massive 10,000-word tribute to the series, I've made a special video blog tribute for the day. Enjoy!

Now if you're craving some instant gratification, check out two of my most favorite Friday the 13th YouTube videos. The first one does a wonderful job at putting the spotlight on one of my all-time favorite characters in film, Crazy Ralph.

Next up, I'm more than happy to share every single kill scene in the first 11 movies of the series, in chronological order. This is one of the best (if not THE best) video montages ever made. And I'm serious... this even beats the tear-jerking last episode montage from "Saved by the Bell."

Happy Holiday, readers!

Celebrating the mask,

-John Carl Buechler

P.S. I wanted to post up this photo of my good friend Mark Bernard's 2009 Halloween costume. Any fan can tell you that his version of bag-head Jason is the most terrifying... and Mark's got that covered like a professional. Awesome!!

Augmented Reality!

Hey there people who know that the entire print industry will die within my lifetime!

I could take this space on the Tirade to talk about the ever-raging battle between technology and print, but I'm pretty sure we've all heard enough about all that jazz. Instead, I'm going to take a second to talk about this recent haircut I've taken on.

After the awesome stylist lady was finished, there was a ton of hair on the floor. This kind of thing can either be really terrifying or really kinda refreshing. I think in this case it was a little of both, although it did lean towards the terrifying side when I squinted my eyes together and the massive pile of hair looked a little like the coyote-ravaged, rotting zombie corpse of Jessica Simpson's dog, Daisy.

Editor's note: Worse things have happened... after all, I warned her not to climb up and over that deadfall. ... "Sometimes dead is better," I told her. "The soil of a man's heart is stonier, Jessica." You and I both know the ground up there is soured, but I guess she buried her dog up there anyway. Live and learn, live and learn.

Luckily, it was only my imagination and THEN that feeling of refreshment set in.

Anyway, here's a comparison between the old and new versions of my wig. I'm not too worried about the change, since my hair luckily grows faster than Adam Lambert's crotch in a David Hasselhoff poster store.

You can decide which version you like better, and I'll pretend like I give a damn.

Now that all that crap is over with, let's get back to that print vs. technology stuff. I've always been a pretty huge fan of Esquire Magazine, mostly for their in-sane design, art direction and photography, but also their once-in-a-blue-moon jumps in innovation.

This month they've really stepped it up with this hilarious "Augmented Reality" issue. Apparently you hold up your magazine to your computer's webcam and watch while celebrities and supermodels break into your house, borrow your computer and scare the shit out of you with pointless screaming, flying letters, megaphones and cartoon trees & vines.

Even though it sounds insane, it's probably not. Check out this video and see it for yourself. University of Tennessee graduate—and editor in chief of Esquire—David Grainger, will awkardly tell you all about it:

For more on this weirdness, you can check out the website, download the super secret software and marvel at how horribly designed their site is.

Could this be the beginning of an interesting compromise between the cloud and the ink? Could it be absolutely ridiculous and only serve as yet another attempt at the magazine world's last-ditch-effort for coolness?

Beats me. I know one thing's for sure... if I can hold up a magazine to a web cam and have a person fly off the screen and interact with me... the magazine's not gonna be Esquire, and the person definitely won't be Robert Downey Jr.

No, it'll be this one, this one and this one.

Holla fools.

-M

Yahoo Answers Saves the Day!

Hey guys, ever have a question that you just can't find the answer to?

Millions of people probably have this problem every day. I'd like to tell you that that's a fact, but I'm not a people encyclopedia. No, I'm just a regular guy with a blog.

But don't worry about it, idiots. Even though you might not have an answer just around the corner, the people who populate the "Yahoo Answers" site can hook you right up with all the solutions you can handle.

This has been going on for quite a while now, with new and improved answers coming out of nowhere like a rapid fire potato cannon every day. Trust me, I have my share of questions, but sometimes you just have to appreciate the mysteries of life and just let 'em go.

For example, I'd love to make a post on the Yahoo Answers page asking how big your boobs are, but I'll just use my imagination instead. (Besides... I already know the answer to that question for one special reader. heh heh. Michael Giles clocks in at a healthy 42DD.)

At any rate, no matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to come up with questions as awesome as the ones just posted on The Huffington Post. That's right, the geniuses behind the recent "15 Stupidest Products of All Time" list have released their latest rundown...

The Funniest Yahoo Answers of All Time.

In case you've ever wondered "Why are there school?" or "What type of Axe body wash did Jesus use to attract his followers?" or "How can I break my thumb more?", the answers are waiting there for you.

Seek them out, readers. Seek 'em long, hard and deep.

-Answer Fella

Movie Trailer Thursday... Best Worst Movie!

Hey documentary fans,

This one speaks for itself. Hope you have a wonderful Thursday & if you happen to be downtown later, let Tony know that I have his money and he should release those hostages immediately.

-M

Best Album Cover Ever Made.

Hey guys, quick post!!

Thanks to Jym Davis for bringing this to my attention. Just let this album cover sooth, relax and calm your day into paradise and beyond. Absolutely amazing.

Mmmmmmm... doin' thangs.

-M

P.S. Feel free to click HERE for fun-size.

CNN Loves Some Simpson

Sup pop culture fans & rabid, flesh-eating, virus-infected zombie lovers!

Before I begin today's Tirade, let me clarify something in that first sentence. There actually will be no references made to zombies beyond this point in the post, but it helped me achieve my daily 'horror reference' quota that you people are thirsting for.

Now on to other terrifying notes of horror:

CNN's obsession with Jessica Simpson is incredible.

I just hopped on CNN to see the newest updates in murders, deaths, disasters, political criticisms and other worldwide carnage, and right under a story about a cross dressing student who was sent home from school and another Sarah Palin sighting, we have a headline that reads, "Jessica Simpson Finds a Bosom Buddy."

I don't know about you, but the first thing I was praying for was a gigantic story about Simpson buying stock in THIS COMPANY, because that would be my favorite story of the entire year.

It's also not a story about Jessica Simpson's fresh discovery of a newer, better third boob growing inside her other two. Don't try to tell me you haven't fantasized about that type of thing.

No, it's basically a story about CNN's obsession with Simpson and the network's constant, vigilant stalking of her every move.

In short, it all began with Dolly Parton making a really funny comment about her boobs on Twitter, all in good fun. I think it's pretty great that Parton is Twittering, especially about her iconic boobs, which she obviously has a wonderful sense of humor about. (And why wouldn't she? I have a great sense of humor about my valuables.)

Editor's side note: Dolly Parton is effing awesome and anybody who disagrees can just sit back and wait for the knock at the door. My friend Melanie will single-handedly tear down your front door with a crowbar and pummel you senseless with a tire-iron until you genuinely start to like Dolly Parton. Then, when you're a big pile of wadded up cookie dough in the I.C.U., she'll bring you some cupcakes and "The Fairest of Them All" album from 1970.

You can read the article if you feel like gaining a new perspective on Dolly's latest and current boob status. It should technically be a massive story about Dolly Parton's boobs and how cool she is about 'em, etc. Unfortunately, Simpson made a TWO WORD TWEET in reply to a Twitter post by Parton.

Simpson's reply: "Amen sister :)"

Because of this two-word reply to a Dolly Parton Twitter post, CNN warrants an entire article about her boobs, as well as a headline at the top of the news list for the day. Simpson writes two words and CNN goes apeshit.

If you'll pay close attention to the exact web address of the page, it's labeled: "Music/11/04/dolly.jessica.breasts/index.html"

Am I the only one who thinks this is absolutely genius? I can't say I blame CNN for this kind of thing, really. Those guys probably get super tired of writing about Afghanistan, child murders, deaths, natural disasters, bleak Supreme Court decisions and constant political smack downs. I'd want to throw a little something in there about Jessica Simpson's Double D's too.

Even better are the "Story Highlights" on the side of the page. This article is only (exactly) 322 words. Do you really need a three sentence graph on the side of the page summing up 322 words? Maybe so. The highlights read:

• Dolly Parton tweeted Monday about back pain caused by her large breasts

• Simpson, a longtime fan of Parton's, tweeted "Amen sister" in response

• The singers' cup size -- double D -- has been a hot topic throughout their careers

Yup, that sums it up pretty well.

I'm not going to lie here, Jessica Simpson is fun to write about. For the same reasons that I made fun of her for nearing suicide after her dog was eviscerated by Coyotes, I'll definitely continue my Simpson coverage here.

(Speaking of poor Daisy, check this People Magazine article where Simpson gets super pissed when people try to help her find the dog.)

Curious about this phenomenon, I clicked on Simpson's name, bringing up her tagged articles from the past. There, I found an entire gold mine of brilliance. A few favorite articles to read are:

_______________________

"Jessica Simpson is open to online dating"

"Jessica Simpson roughs it in Africa"

"What Jessica Simpson wants in a man"

"Jessica Simpson likens breakup to a 'Death in the Family'"

and my very favorite: "Jessica Simpson's Coyote Nightmare: Common and Preventable."

_______________________

The awesome thing about making CNN / Jessica Simpson commentary is how it's all on auto pilot. I haven't had to make one single bad joke about any of these headlines... just list 'em all out for you. CNN takes care of the humor for me.

One last note, when my band, "The Yellow House Home Brew" re-unites in 10 years for our Christmas Reunion Album, you can bet your ass that we'll be calling the album "Jessica Simpson's Coyote Nightmare."

Thanks, CNN!

-M

P.S. This first-rate video was posted by the good people at Random & Trite, and I can't help but re-post it. I can't stress enough how I can't stress this enough. (Damn snitches.)

Editor's note again: No, I am not an Alabama fan either. But this kid is hilarious.

The 15 Stupidest Products of All Time

Hey needless—but awesome—list fans,

Man, if you want to set aside some time to have your mind completely blown today, please step over TO THIS SITE and peruse through the 15 stupidest products of all time. If you ask me, this list will transfer perfectly to your Christmas shopping list for the 2009 season.

If you do take that hint... consider this product for me:

I'm a pretty huge fan of this one for hilariously obvious reasons:

This piece seems very useful:

And finally, my favorite:

It's actually my favorite item because of the description The Huffington Post gives the Mask:

"It's like doing sit-ups for your face, only instead of doing something healthy you're electrocuting yourself while dressed as a serial killer."

You owe it to yourself to check out the other 11 products, and that's no jive. Be on the lookout for my second favorite item, "The Privacy Scarf." It'll mess ya up.

-McClane Out

P.S. Also, an update from yesterday's post.... thanks to a tip from Joe Powell, we've now discovered that Victor Newman's contract has been renewed and we're in for three more years of ass kicking!!!! Looks like you've narrowly avoided a brutal ass-beating, Sony. Nice work.

Later on, Newman.

Hey daytime soap opera fans!

Ever since I was born, my wonderful mother has been a die-hard fan of Young & The Restless. If you've never seen an episode of this show, you can either stop reading this right now, go hook yourself up to some machine that kicks the hell out of you, or publicly admit to being a total loser who drinks your own pee.

It's awesome. Since mom recorded it every single day and watched it later in the evening after we'd all made it home from school, I practically owned the show growing up. That's right... from that show, I learned everything there is to know about friendship, relationships, sex, running an empire, fighting and how to give someone a letter and have your own voice actually read it out loud while the person reads it.... even though you're 100 miles away.

Let's also not forget the positive lessons learned about alcohol and drug abuse, as well as safe sex and how awesome off-screen car wrecks are.

Anyway, sometime along the way I think I grew up or got a job or something and stopped watching it. However... something kept randomly pulling me back. It was some insane force of nature... some kind of tidal wave of sheer power.

It's been said that a man is just a man... but in this case, whoever made up that crap is totally wrong. I guess it could have been me, just now, who made that up. Anyway... this is a man who transcends other men. Women want to get it on with him, men want to be him and children run in fear from his stern, mumbling voice and earth-shaking, all-powerful facial hair.

That's right... it's Victor Newman, and his mustache of ruthless devastation.

Somebody told me he was on the cover of Badass Magazine this month, so I ran out to get my own copy as soon as I could. Then I found out that Badass Magazine doesn't even exist, so I just made this myself:

Anyway, it was announced not too long ago that today, November 2nd, 2009, would be Victor Newman's last day on the show.

If you were God, you would have heard 100,000,000 gasps from every woman (and probably a ton of dudes) across the globe. How could this happen??? This man has been the foundation to this show for more than 25 years and suddenly he's walking?

Looks like we can thank the corporate dicks at Sony & CBS for making this happen. You can read all about the entire fiasco here, but in short... they denied Newman a little bit of cash... and now the only thing these guys have to look forward to is a slow, painful ass-beating from a man who has nothing to lose.

If I were those cats at the network, I'd get a ton of security cameras, a bunch of vicious, gunpowder-fed mutant dogs, multiple cans of mace, some guns like the ones in that Matrix movie, some holy water, an alligator, a catapult armed with severed human heads, dig some tiger pits and cleverly hide them with bamboo, some hostages, a gun that shoots paste, a few German tanks, a kung fu manual, some old gypsy or asian woman with the ability to see the future in a big cauldron of pea soup and severed human body parts and a few albums by The Smiths while barricading themselves in some giant concrete bunker waiting for death to come knocking on their 20" thick steel door.

At any rate... it's just seriously really sad that Victor is leaving the show. I mean, jeez man, I grew up watching that guy operate. He was like a dad to me, really.

While I don't remember a whole TON of his exploits, here are some moments that I clearly remember from the show. (As far as my memory goes:)

• When a little girl was trapped under a burning building in Genoa City, Newman came to the rescue. As I recall, he sprayed himself down with Jabot perfume (fire retardant) and physically chopped the building down with his damn fists. I'm pretty sure the little girl died or whatever, but it was awesome.

• When a masked assailant robbed Jimmy's bar and outran the cops, Newman came out of nowhere to stop the guy... by jumping off the roof of some random building on a telephone wire. Taking justice into his own hands (as usual), Newman strangled the guy with the wire, electrocuting and burning the guy alive. In the following episode, Victor pulled out all of the robber's teeth so they couldn't identify the body at the morgue and dumped the body into Genoa City Bay.

• When Danny Romalotti's sound system screwed up at one of his biggest concert events, Newman re-charged the equipment by piping an electric car battery directly through his mustache and back into the sound board.

• At one point in the show, awesome old woman Katherine Chancellor had a heart attack. Newman just happened to be walking by, for some reason, in her living room. Taking action, he realized that he never properly learned CPR or whatever... so he ran to the horse barn, punched a hole through one of the horses, removed its still-beating heart and transplanted the horse heart into Chancellor's body with an ink pen and paper clips.

• When terrorists stole a helicopter from the local news station, Newman happened to be flying by in his modified harrier jet craft. Instead of trying to talk the terrorists down or even shoot missiles at 'em, Newman buzzed by the helicopter, ejected himself directly into the helicopter blades and used his entire body to crash the whole thing into the Bay.

• When his wife, Nikki, got captured by the Genoa City mafia, it was Newman who saved her by roundhouse kicking a hole through a bank vault. Unfortunately, he played right into the mob boss' plan... since they were after the money all along. This didn't deter Newman, however. After he got it on with Nikki in the parking lot, he went back into the bank and set the money on fire with his heat vision. "Ha!" he screamed at the mob guys, "let's see you get rich of those ashes, you bastards." Then he threw a can of gas through the window of the bank and killed everyone in the building.

• While enjoying a leisurely horse ride with his son through the woods, a rabid grizzly bear suddenly appeared on the trail. The horses spooked instantly, bucking Nicholas off to the ground. Newman wouldn't have it, however. He picked up his own horse, ripped it in two with his bare hands, and turned it into a makeshift pair of nun-chucks. (The spine still connected the horse's two halves. I don't know how in the hell the special effects guys pulled this one off, but they got a big tip of my hat, that's for damn sure.) Anyway, he pummeled the hell out of the bear... but didn't kill it. He left that part to Nick. "Sooner or later, you must learn to kill," Newman told his son.

• When some experimental radioactive sharks escaped from the secret division of Newman Enterprises, it was up to Newman himself to get back his property before they could grow big enough to swallow the entire Genoa City Bridge. Newman cleverly sliced his own wrist to draw them in with his own blood... then allowed one of them to eat him. Once inside the shark, Newman took over its brain and forced it to attack the other one. I clearly remember this being a three-part episode, but I can't remember exactly how it ended. Don't quote me on this one, but I'm pretty sure he built himself a giant robot octopus with laser flame throwers and buzz saws to finally take down the shark.

Anyway, since today was The Mustache's last day on the show, my friend Lisa and I decided to have a "Farewell Victor Lunch" to say our goodbyes. After enjoying a nice lunch, we both sat and stared for what seemed like hours of Newman holding some puppy while making baby noises at it.

I'm not sure that was a fitting ending... but it happened. Here's some highlight pictures from our sad, 'goodbye Victor' lunch today:

Luckily, Victor and Nikki are now headed off to Belgium or Europe or something for some secret experimental surgery... so it's a good possibility that those dumbasses at Sony & CBS will come to their senses and get Newman back on the show. At least they had enough sense to not blow him up in some car bomb, take a bullet while protecting a cat or getting electrocuted by a bad toaster or something.

Finally, it is with great pleasure that I share a poem with you that Lisa wrote for the occasion today. I thought it was very fitting, and it was extremely awesome to have a poetry reading in my apartment. (It's way better if you picture her reading it with that fake mustache, holding a shotgun and a big poster of Jack Abbott's face with a mustache drawn on it.)

_______________________________________

ODE TO VICTOR

Very little you had

A childhood so bad

Overcoming obstacles you can

You made yourself a "New-Man."

Wise and tough, rugged and rough

The last to take pity

are the residents of Genoa City.

You made many enemies

You made many friends

The feud with the Abbotts

May last 'til the end.

He called you "The Mustache"

And over the years

Many things have caused you and Jack

To Clash.

You've loved many ladies,

Even though you had a vasectomy

You somehow made babies.

Nicholas, Victoria, Adam and Abby,

Your children have grown

To be far greater than shabby.

If ever you are on your death bed

Your biggest fans will know

It is Nikki that you will wed.

For so long you have been the heart

of Genoa City you were the biggest part.

Missing a day, a week or even a year

Your absence on Y&R was one I need not fear.

Your tenure has been long

Your presence incredibly strong

The longest relationship I've been able to maintain

My tears and sadness I can no longer feign.

So today is the day

That may or may not be the end

If forever it is, I surely will pout

For your return I am holding out

All the while hoping

You and Sony can reconcile.

_______________________________________

Start writing your protest letters now, readers, and bring one of the most powerful men who's ever lived back to the show where he belongs.

Until then... Lisa and I will keep the Mustache's flame burning strong.

Good luck surviving the next few weeks, Sony.

-Brad Carlton

Now accepting patients

Sup Halloween fans & gynecologist enthusiasts!

It was a pretty savage Halloween here at the Tirade on Saturday night. From the posted photos below, you'll be able to see some of the carnage, and more photos are on the way.

The interesting thing about being an OBGYN completely covered in blood is the incredibly range of reactions you get from the ladies. (More on that in just a sec.)

I wasn't too worried about the dudes, since every male who saw me either gave me a thumbs up, high five, rolling laugh or just screamed something about me being hard core. One nice drunk guy at the Waffle House at 5:00 a.m. actually pointed out that I had some blood on my pants. This guy was hammered, wearing a yellow hoodie and may or may not have been partially retarded. Either way, he was terrifying, and I just smiled and said, "Oh woah!! Damn, you're right!"

It was a pretty insane night of bar hoppin' and scene stealin'. I bought three disposable cameras to carry around & distribute, and I completely forgot how hilarious those things are. Unfortunately, it's gonna take like a week to get the shots back since film apparently sucks. The shots below are from my buddy Shawn.

Like I mentioned before, the reactions from the opposite sex were hilarious. Here's a few great moments from the night:

1. Quote: "Dude, that is the most disgusting f'n costume I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm serious dude, that's straight-up offensive. Good luck getting laid tonight dude, or EVER. You're sick." It's important to note that this woman was BEYOND serious. I thought she was going to fight me, actually, in the bar. I had to ask her where all the aggression was coming from, especially since it's Halloween. She just told me that she was an aggressive person in general. Then she re-iterated that I'd never get laid that night.

Editor's commentary: You know, she has a good point & I never even considered that. When I was splashing the blood all over the scrubs, my arms and face earlier in the night... all I could think about was how easily I could get laid in that outfit. "Man, I'll totally nail three chicks at the same time tonight," I thought as I made my name tag that said, "Dr. McClane, Certified Vagina Inspector" with a picture of me covered in blood, holding two giant butcher knives.

2. "You seriously make me want to puke."

3. Horrified looks from every single woman over 40 while wondering around in the Wal-Mart.

4. Laughter and smiles from every single woman under 40 while wondering around in the Wal-Mart.

5. Horrified looks from every woman with children, no matter what age, while wondering around in the Wal-Mart.

6. "That scares the shit out of me; stay away from me."

7. Taking multiple photos with super hot chicks in slutty Halloween costumes because they thought it was the best thing ever.

8. Getting asked for my Facebook(?) from one of the hot chicks in slutty Halloween costumes.

Editor's commentary: I explained to her that meeting women on Facebook is like running straight out into moving traffic blindfolded. It could be the most thrilling thing ever, or you could end up mangled & crushed like a ski-mask-wearing thug in an early-90's Steven Seagal movie.

9. Realizing that this hot chick in the slutty Halloween costume has no damn clue who Steven Seagal is.

10. Getting licked in the face by a hot chick when I revealed that the blood is actually made from super-sweet corn syrup.

11. Getting licked by a dude when I revealed that the blood is actually made from super-sweet corn syrup.

12. Laughing about it because it's Halloween and that's awesome.

13. Getting my picture taken multiple times with this awesome lady dressed like a giant-sized tampon completely covered in blood. (This wasn't too bad.)

14. Having my picture taken with this awesome lady dressed like a giant-sized maxi pad completely covered in blood. (This was absolutely horrifying.)

15. Liz Albertson.

16. Pulling a random tampon out of my pocket later in the evening that the lady dressed as a giant tampon covered in blood jammed in my pants. (This would later end up in my nose for some reason, on fire.)

17. Seeing a random guy walking around in the Pilot Light all by himself wearing gigantic box that said, "Lord Vader's Baby Extermination Service" with multiple, bloody dead babies hanging from it on strings by their necks.

Editor's commentary: And I thought MY costume was bad... This cat better have been carrying a sawed-off shotgun with him under that box, because I have no idea how he made it home alive.

18. Getting my picture taken with my head jammed in between some gigantic fat guy's crotch who was dressed up like a very scary old woman.

19. Finally taking a shower and having my entire bath tub look just like that awesome scene from Friday the 13th part IV: The Final Chapter when Jason takes out Peter Barton with his bare hands.

20. Running into the same chick from point #1 & having a nice long conversation with her about feminism and Guns 'N Roses. (I also confirmed her prediction: at that point in the night, I definitely hadn't gotten laid.) Turns out, she was really cool after all. Amber, if you're reading this, I hope you don't mind me quoting you on #1. (Pictures of us [and her disgusted face] coming soon.)

Thanks to everybody who made Halloween absolutely awesome!

Enjoy the pics & hang in there; there's more on the way.

Dr. McClane out.