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Cheesus Christ, the grater story ever told
07:03 am



I have never once celebrated Easter. What I knew about it as a kid mostly boiled down to the Jewish tl;dr: Romans killed a Jew, then spent the next two millennia revering their victim and blaming his death on us, like an eternal sectarian version of a bully doing “stop hitting yourself.” This understanding of Easter did me zero favors, socially, at the predominately Italian public school I attended, but on that front, I was probably beyond help anyway.

But I do know this about Easter: to celebrate it, one MUST have the Cheesus Christ Cheese Grater.


Hell, I WANT ONE, and I’ve long since put my home through some brutal kitsch-purges. Sadly, it’s not contrived to make Jesus appear in your cheese, like the Virgin Mary Toaster. In fact, it’s functionality is limited rather sharply (only cheese pun, I promise) by the total lack of holes in much of the center so as not to obscure the redemptive and luminous visage of the Son Of Man—though honestly, if you told me it was a Bigfoot cheese grater, I wouldn’t look twice to check. The back of the packaging comes printed with this moving supplication:

Our Cheese in heaven, halloumi be your name.
Your tangy taste, we will not waste,
on Earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily brie.
Forgive us our stilton,
as we forgive those who stilton against us.
Lead us not into cheese slices, but deliver us from cheddar.
For the glory of the dairy, the curds and the whey are yours.
Now and forever.

Fucking terrible, right? That’s OK, there will always be this:

Bless James Renner for letting me know about this, and the Good Lord Himself for helping me get through it without punning on the word “holy.”

Posted by Ron Kretsch | Leave a comment
Hardcore health: Cro-Mags frontman’s juicing and smoothie advice
01:19 pm



Not only does Cro-Mags John Joseph McGowan show you how to juice properly, he delivers some “hardcore” smoothie-making tips for pr0n stars and flatulence.

I would rather live 70 years and thrive like a motherfucker then to live 100 years being fucking, you know, being sick all the time.

Of course, NSFW (or wear some headphones) as there are lot of F-bombs being dropped.

Via World’s Best Ever

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Psychedelic ‘Flower power’ PEZ dispensers inspired by the Summer of Love
06:40 am



Psychedelic PEZ
Ah, PEZ, you bewitching sweet Austrian treat with your collectible mechanical pocket dispensers. Is there any trend or franchise you can’t coopt? The fantastic dispensers pictured here came out in 1968 and were created to tie into the “Flower Power” of the Summer of Love that had just happened a year earlier. (1968 would be a considerably darker year, but the dispensers still fit in fine.) There was a “flower” design and a “hand” design; both featured eyeballs. [Could these have inspired The Residents to adopt their trademark eyeball masks?]

According to Nina Chertoff and Susan Kahn in Celebrating PEZ, the flower flavor didn’t go over very well:

When psychedelic eyes were produced in the 1960s, [Eduard Haas, founder of the PEZ company] insisted that the candies be flower flavored to tie in with the “flower power” theme of the times. Their taste was unpopular, and they were finally pulled off the market.

Oh well. Wikipedia lists “Flower” alongside “Chlorophyll Mint,” “Coffee,” and “Yogurt” as one of eight “retired” PEZ flavors. Aren’t you curious what it tasted like?

They came out in 1968 and there was a limited reissue in the late 1990s—available by through a mail-in offer only—but I can’t tell the difference. Experts can, I presume. An original “Psychedelic Hand” model with a black hand can go for more than $500.

You can buy a pretty groovy mug with a “psychedelic PEZ” motif on it.
Flower Power PEZ
Flower Power PEZ
Flower Power PEZ
Flower Power PEZ
I know this is a total cliché, but here’s a Christian song in the new wave style called “Love Dispenser” with a stop-motion animated video, done with PEZ. It’s actually not bad!

Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
Woman decorates dog shit with strawberries, cream and Nutella to shame lazy pet owners
07:36 am



Theresa Ritchie of Peterhead, Aberdeenshire is decorating random dogs’ poo with strawberries, whipped cream, icing and sometimes Nutella in a bid to get lazy dog owners to clean up after their pets. Theresa hopes that her arts and crafts dogshit food styling skills will make dog owners aware “that someone is watching them.”

People in Peterhead are regularly stepping on dog mess on the pavements. I wanted to highlight the problem in an amusing way.

This shows people are watching dog owners who can’t be bothered to clean up after their pets. The food idea has showed that dog poo wasn’t being cleaned up by the council. It sometimes lies on the streets for around eight weeks.

I’m not entirely sure Theresa thought this one through. A) wouldn’t this be rather confusing to a toddler or young child? Would they eat it thinking it was a tasty dessert they found on the sidewalk? B) I’m thinking dogs would it eat, too. C) Ants. Lots of ants. Ants would love this… shit.

Via Arbroath and Evening Express.UK

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Punk-branded beer is bollocks
09:14 am



Uggggggggh. I love beer, and I love punk rock. I understand the peanut butter and chocolate impulses we sometimes have (often when we’re drunk) to combine our favorite things, but this is just such a bummer. I get it! I sympathize with these plucky brewers! I understand that it’s difficult to brand your product—especially when it’s a product that has existed for at least 10,000 years. However, can we stop trying to squeeze the last bit of cultural capital out of a word that has long-since lost its automatic credibility? I mean there was that abominable couture show at the Met, and people are still trying to get mileage out of “punk”???

What if we just picked another genre? What about New Wave beer? Deep Chicago House Ale? Freak Folk Lager? I sincerely doubt those movements would inspire such a cringe-inducing marketing campaign as this one:

Welcome to a post Punk apocalyptic mother fucker of a pale ale.

A beer that spent its formative years Blitzkrieg bopping around India and the sub continent. Quintessential Empire with an anarchic twist.

God save the Queen and all who sail in her. Raising a Stiff Little Finger to IPAs that have come before and those it is yet to meet.

Turn up the volume Pay the man. Embrace the punked up, fucked up outlaw elite.

Never Mind the Bollocks this is the real shit.

Fuck you.

If I ever drink another craft brew IPA again, it will be too soon (I used to live in the midwest—lotta’ hobby brewers in the hinterlands). This beer does seem to be pretty delicious, at least according to this charmingly eccentric German beer connoisseur. And hey, if you can’t trust charmingly eccentric German beer connoisseurs, society is truly bereft of authenticity. 

Posted by Amber Frost | Leave a comment
Tarzan, shaken not stirred: How to make a Johnny Weissmuller cocktail
05:45 am



Tarzan practices his drinking technique.
There is only one Tarzan and that was Johnny Weissmuller. You can keep the big-budget, special-effect, full-color movies, the TV series and the Disney cartoon, Tarzan is Johnny Weissmuller.

The Tarzan movies are an early childhood memory, flickering on black and white TV set, moving the aerial to settle on clearer picture as Johnny swooped down to wrestle crocodiles, man-eating snakes, fight the wicked white hunters, and kiss Maureen O’Sullivan. You could hear kids in back greens or parks practice the trademark Tarzan yell, as they beat their chests, and climbed trees.

Johnny Weissmuller was an Olympic champion, who had won five gold medals, set literally dozens of world records, and was said to have never lost a competitive swimming race.

Weissmuller wasn’t the first Tarzan, but for me he was the best one. He made twelve Tarzan movies starting with Tarzan the Ape Man in 1935.

Since the actor’s lines amounted to little more than “Me Tarzan, you Jane,” acting in front of the camera was hardly a challenge. The economic rewards were large, but he grew weary of portraying the monosyllabic, cheat-beating, tree-climbing ape man. “I’ve been wearing animal skin scanties too long,” he explained.

Weissmuller quit Tarzan in 1948 after making Tarzan and the Mermaids (not one of the best…) and then starred as “Jungle Jim” in a series of films and TV shows. He then moved onto promoting health foods, and opening cocktail lounges…and this brings us to…

The Johnny Weissmuller cocktail, which is basically a classic Martini with a tropical twist. It’s easy to make and will set any evening swinging. Here’s what you’ll need:

1 oz gin
1 oz light rum
1 oz lemon juice
1 tsp powdered sugar
A dash of grenadine

Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with crushed ice or ice cubes. Shake well. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Now drink. Ah!

So easy even Cheetah could make it, though he’d probably add a banana—not recommended.

Now, this is how you should feel after a Johnny Weissmuller cocktail…!

A brief interview with Johnny Weissmuller, after the jump…

Posted by Paul Gallagher | Leave a comment
Cooking with Vincent Price to a funky beat!
08:57 am



Here’s Vincent Price’s very own recipe for boneless pork sirloin like you’ve never heard it before. Price boasts that “the meat will be as tender as a woman’s heart and the flavor can only be described as… reckless.”

Mix by RenRok.

With thanks to Colony!

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Coffee *everywhere* and ‘road rage’: IS THERE A CONNECTION???
11:55 am



I am forbidden to drink coffee. My wife says it turns me into a speed-talking, speed-walking lunatic (“and an asshole” she insisted I add) and this is, if I am honest, undeniably true. It was none other than Lemmy himself who once told me that speed really did what cocaine is supposed to do, but as far as my body processes caffeine, it has a far greater effect on me than even the best coke does. My wife is right, it does turn me right into a Tasmanian devil. Sometimes I sneak coffee behind her back and I feel like I’m a former drug addict backsliding. As pathetic as I realize this sounds, it feels kind of shameful. She always knows when I’ve had a cup or two. Every time. Without fail. I try to lie about it, but she sees right through that.

Yep, coffee has a super-pronounced effect on me. Personally I really enjoy the effects, but when your partner can peg your “wired” and “weird” behavior just as easily as if you had snorted a pound a blow, there might be a problem, right?

In any case, knowing how coffee transforms me into a complete maniac, I have long suspected that the rise in “road rage” in recent years had much in common with the parallel increase of premium coffee chains like Starbucks and Peet’s popping up on every street corner like mushrooms after it rains… People drink a lot more coffee than they used to, this much is undeniable. When did we first start hearing the term “road rage” or experience it ourselves? Coincidence? I think not.

Which brings me to my next topic: Red Bull. The first time I drank a Red Bull, it was at a party and about 9pm. I drank two because I was really exhausted and because it tasted like a liquid version of Flintstones Vitamins.

I perked right up to be sure, but I also did not sleep again for two whole days!

With the above in mind, this morning I became aware (via Caffeine Informer) that on average (because caffeine levels can vary so widely) a 16oz Starbucks Grande coffee, with approximately 330mg of caffeine is FOUR TIMES stronger than a Red Bull, two times stronger than a Monster Energy Drink and eight times stronger than a Coca-Cola Classic.

When coffee was first introduced into the European diet in the 16th century, there were calls to ban what was then thought of as a “Muslim drink.” (Coffee was also banned for quite some time by Arab societies.) Some of the earliest examples of what we’d now call an “advice column” apparently address the problem of coffee addiction causing weird behavior. In 1511, according to Terence McKenna in his Food of the Gods, the Prince of Waldeck set up what was basically the first “drug snitch” program and offered monetary rewards to anyone who turned in a coffee drinker. People were fined and given floggings over coffee. After a few centuries, most of us (not me!) are accustomed to the effects of caffeine, but for some people it can cause anxiety, depression and other psychological discomforts.

Or perhaps make you act like an asshole when you’re driving? I’m not a scientist, I’m just throwing it out there.

Here’s some nice road rage footage. Not sure what this driver drank before this unfortunate incident, but I suspect that it had a lot of caffeine in it. Skip to the 1:00 mark.

Via reddit

Posted by Richard Metzger | Leave a comment
Nirvana nightmare: Apparently Kurt Cobain is alive and well selling beer in the Netherlands
08:04 am



Here’s a commercial for Bavaria Radler beer where it shows the likes of Kurt Cobain, Tupac Shakur, John Lennon, Bruce Lee, Marilyn Monroe and Elvis chilling on a tropical island drinking some cold brewskies.

I’m sure Mr. Cobain—who famously feared being a sell-out—would have just loved this concept. Doubtful that it’ll cause Yoko Ono to yuck it up much either. I smell a lawsuit!

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Baking bad?: ‘Machete’ star Danny Trejo makes ‘Breadanimals’
09:00 am



We all know Danny Trejo as an international action star of such movies as Machete, Heat, Desperado, and more recently Bullet and Vengeance. But there’s one thing most film fans probably don’t know about the likable ex-con Mr. Trejo and that’s his love of baking bread animals!

Yes, according to the folks over at Nerdist our favorite Mr. Bad Guy really does have a soft doughy inside, and likes to spend his free time making cutesy “Breadanimals.” Allegedly.

All jolly good fun, and I could certainly see this as being a profitable (if unlikely) sideline for the talented Mr. Trejo.


Posted by Paul Gallagher | Leave a comment
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