On this day of days, I ask you, my adoring fans, to remember not just the Josh Groban records, delicious cookies and nogs, and stockings filled with whatfore. I ask you to recall that greatest gift of all -- the e'er sweet blood of the holy enigma Jesus. He died for you bastards, after all. Think about that while you're shining up your new porcelain buttplug tonight, nestled all snug in your bed with visions of Vin Diesel dancing in your head.
Merry Christmas, peasants.
Analogcabin @ 5:13 PM ------------------------- In celebration of the birth of the Little Baby Jesus, I will travel and, perhaps, not post much. Snidely call it a Christmas miracle if you want, but rest assured you'll not be without me in the New Year, no matter how hard you try to lose my address. Analogcabin @ 5:05 PM ------------------------- Just in time for Christmas, Bush chief of staff Andrew Card has been in the news. I know. It's more than we could have wished for, but not too much to love.
Analogcabin @ 1:18 PM ------------------------- Today a judge refused to block the admission of males to the currently all-female Wells College, despite a lawsuit filed by two current students. The small school is currently losing money as a result of declining enrollment, and its trustees hope admitting men will pump up enrollment and flow cash into the school's flagging endowment, thereby hardening the school's future.
Analogcabin @ 3:41 PM ------------------------- Former Pantera frontman Phil Anselmo has finally broken his silence over the shocking murder last week of Pantera founder "Dimebag" Darryl Abbott.
Analogcabin @ 4:01 PM ------------------------- The opening of the nation's first turkey shit power plant only buttresses my belief that the United States is quickly becoming Bartertown.
Analogcabin @ 10:29 AM ------------------------- Crete, Nebraska's Doane College is catching some flack for a recruitment postcard sent to prospective students in California, and, personally, I think it's bullshit.
Analogcabin @ 2:34 PM ------------------------- Showing impeccable timing, Senator John McCain announced yesterday that he has "no confidence" in Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. McCain's comments came during an hour-long interview with the Associated Press and were in response to questions about the Bush administration's handling of the war in Iraq. McCain also suggested that an additional 80,000 to 100,000 troops are necessary to stabilize the country.
Analogcabin @ 8:39 AM ------------------------- A head-on train collision in India has killed at least 34 people. Authorities suspect 25 of the deceased were Indian men groping, goosing, and rubbing against women at the time of the accident.
Analogcabin @ 1:07 PM ------------------------- Mount Lee Lacy, The Pride of Gainsville, Florida, was arrested yesterday for allegedly biting his dog.
Analogcabin @ 12:57 PM ------------------------- I'm sure you've all heard about the plot to poison Ukrainian politician Viktor Yushchenko with dioxin, and the remarkable transformation his face has undergone as a result. But what you might not know is how the condition could progress.
Analogcabin @ 9:25 AM ------------------------- If there's one thing about me on which everyone can agree, it's that I'm romantic. That's because in my life, romance is more than just the occasional bouquet of calla lilies, a dinner out at a fine restaurant serving French-infused Asian cuisine, or cuddling under a microchenille blanket and stargazing. It's a personal philosophy. I infuse romance into my every moment. When I wake up, it's with romance. When I shower, I seduce my nooks and crannies with a soft washcloth and goat's milk soap. When I eat breakfast, my Grape Nuts are slathered in vanilla soy milk gently, slowly put into my mouth, and savoured with an "ou." When I drive my car, I do so with skill and grace, gripping the wheel firmly and working the clutch in and out at the most appropriate times. When I doodie, I pull down my pants sensuously, sit upon the cool, clean toilet seat, and I squeeze my muscles rhythmically until the poop bursts forth from my bottom. Sometimes, I read a wonderful book while doing it.
Analogcabin @ 9:02 AM ------------------------- This article discussing the rash of gay divorces in Massachusetts a mere seven months after the state began allowing same sex marriage does more than reinforce what the God-fearing and Bible humping among us already knew -- that them queers can't limit themselves to just one butthole for life. It also provides a perfect graphic representation of the feeling that's lingered in the guts of so many of us for so long -- that heavyset lesbian couples are somehow gayer than gay men.
Analogcabin @ 4:23 PM ------------------------- The things I do for you people, day in and day out. I comb the news, searching for the kind of unique nuggets I can polish with the fine grit paper I call "wit and epithets" into beautiful, priceless gems of comedy. I then give you these gems, free of charge. Frankly, I think it's bullshit. You assholes don't deserve me.
Analogcabin @ 3:16 PM ------------------------- Does one 8-year-old girl + 30 Jello shots = a nine day suspension? Apparently some members of the Terrytown, Louisiana school board think so. Of course, I disagree.
Analogcabin @ 2:40 PM ------------------------- I don't know what's becoming of me, but I almost cried while reading this story about gorillas mourning the death of one of their group.
Analogcabin @ 9:42 AM ------------------------- The New York Times reported today that a classified CIA cable describes the future of Iraq as much bleaker than the Bush administration's current public characterizations. The cable, sent last month, was authored by the CIA station chief in Baghdad following the completion of a one-year tour of duty.
Analogcabin @ 1:50 PM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 10:19 AM ------------------------- Every morning I get out of bed for that temp in midtown who's sitting there already crying because she is so bored. We blogs are the voice of the underclass. The people who send in stuff to me are the assistant at Vanity Fair, the poor girl who just tripped and fell in the Condé Nast cafeteria. They are abused not just by corporate culture but by celebrity culture, and something cracks and they have to vent. Their revenge? Schadenfreude!
Analogcabin @ 3:49 PM ------------------------- Because I hope to become the clearing house for all Debra Lafave information, here's a quick update.
Analogcabin @ 9:12 AM ------------------------- I'm going to go on the record right now. I support free speech. The exception would be in the case of the very stupid.
Analogcabin @ 12:31 PM ------------------------- Now that he's had a year to clean up all the spilt innocence and little boy rectal blood, police are raiding Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch. Analogcabin @ 12:01 PM ------------------------- The reasons I'm intrigued by the Debra Beasley Lefave story go beyond my admittedly unoriginal, but nonetheless genuine arousal at the idea of a very attractive young reading teacher imparting on me how to sound out "cunnilingus," or that whenever I write about her, my site's hits go through the roof. I'm fascinated by her mind.
Analogcabin @ 1:08 PM ------------------------- Not since Harvey Danger released their sophomore triumph "King James Version" has the music industry shuddered with the kind of exquisite release it has today, for after a seemingly endless orgasmic build, Better Than Ezra has signed to Artemis Records.
Analogcabin @ 2:56 PM -------------------------
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004
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Monday, December 20, 2004
First, there was his assertion that the FDA is doing "a spectacular job," despite recent debacles involving drugs Vioxx and Celebrex and a Senator's claim that the regulatory agency tasked with safeguarding drugs has been "a catastrophic failure." Second, Card went on record saying that Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld is doing "a spectacular job," despite expressions of doubt from Congress and various members of the armed forces.
So I ask you this: Is that shitty you feel, or is it spectacular?
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Friday, December 17, 2004
The plaintiffs, Lauren Searle-Lebel and Jennifer LaBarbera, claimed that the school was in breach of contract and had committed fraud. They argued in court that men would hinder their ability to excel in classes such as "Introductory Donut Grinding" and "Comparative Carpet Munching."
A group of Wells Students, above, prepares to practice for a final on Taking the Bearded Clam's Temperature.
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Thursday, December 16, 2004
Anselmo, who left the group under circumstances suspected to be difficult by the band's fan, released the following statement through his representative/mother:
This has changed the entire world, and this is the last you'll be seeing of me for a long time. I hope you're happy, heavy metal music magazines, media, I hope you're happy. I'm done.
After a pause, he continued.
I'm serious. This is it. You got what you wanted, jerks. I'm leaving. I'm walking out of the room. Right now. In three seconds. I swear. Unless you apologize, I'm fucking leaving. One. Seriously, now, you media assholes. Two. I'm talking to you, Rip Magazine. Two and a half. Rikki Rachtman, you dick. Two and three quarters. Alright. I'm totally gone, jerks. Three. No more Phil for you.
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Who runs Bartertown?
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Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Bullshit?, you're thinking. That's a pretty strong word. Darn tootin', it is, but that's how I feel about the injustice of this situation -- strongly.
Allow me to allow CNN to describe the postcard for you:
One frame showed a student playing football for the Doane Tigers, with the caption: "Finally, a place where he could work toward the career of his choice. And also play the field." The next frame showed him talking to a group of attractive women and was captioned: "And play the field some more."
Now, I don't know much about comedy and, granted, it's no Family Circus, but I think it's pretty good stuff. Unfortunately, some of the recipients of the card -- Califaggots, as I like to call them -- complained to the school. They said, "It's sexist!" and "It objectifies women!" But probably with a lisp. Frankly, I'm surprised they were able to take their eyes off some little boy's ass long enough to read the card in the first place.
I think I speak for all of the world's people when I say that plenty of trim is exactly what you want in a college. That and awesome weed. And free cable. But mostly plenty of trim.
But it wasn't just sexism. Students and faculty from the college complained that the postcard was in poor taste considering that Doane football player Alan Branting, 19, was recently suspended and is awaiting trial on charges of sexually assaulting a 14-year-old girl.
I mean, sure, and if you look hard enough, you'll see Bob Costas' face in the clouds.
I could understand the complaint if the postcard had said, for example, something like, "At Doane College, we believe that if there's grass on the field, you play ball. Whether they say no and cry or not."
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McCain then went further, saying that, should the opportunity arise, Americans "should vote for somebody other than Bush." He then reached with his stubby arms into his jacket pocket, withdrew a beautiful sterling silver flask engraved with the words "McCain for Change in 2008," and took a long draught of what smelled like Jameson Irish whiskey.
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Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Raj Joshi, when asked if he was upset to have died in such a horrible way, said, "Upset? I couldn't be happier to be out of there. India, man -- that's no way to live."
The twisted horrible wreckage peppered with blood and gristle, above, was difficult to distinguish from the rest of the heinous New Delhi landscape.
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I know what you're thinking: This is just a lead up to a cheap autofellatio joke, isn't it? No, it's not, but thanks for asking.
No, Mount was in fact taken into custody after his girlfriend's mother overheard an argument between he and her daughter over how to discipline Lady, their Jack Russel Terrier. AKC records show the dog's full name is Styx's Lady of the Morning.
When questioned about the incident, Lacy said that "dogs bite so that's what they understand," as he dragged his ass across the precinct floor to express his discomfort and nervousness.
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Monday, December 13, 2004
Thanks to computer technology, I can provide you with the below predictive approximation.
From left, Yushchenko before dioxin, now, and how he may look soon.
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As you can imagine, many people try to emulate my remarkable romancery. Usually, I'm flattered by the often clumsy but generally well-intended attempts. But today, I feel compelled to share with you a cautionary tale of a very misguided attempt at romance.
The conveniently-named 19-year-old Marine David Battle was wounded in Falluja. While operating on him, doctors informed Battle that he had a choice -- either lose his wedding ring and keep his finger or lose his finger and keep his wedding ring. He chose the latter.
There's nothing romantic about stupidity. While I'm sure we're all very moved by Battle's sacrifice for his country and by the intention of his decision, the bottom line is this: He's got one less finger with which to satisfy his child bride. And when you're dealing with a 19-year-old woman deprived of any contact with her betrothed for months at a time, the true romantic knows, you're gonna need all the fingers you can get, Frodo.
To add insult to serious digital injury, the very doctors that gave Battle the choice of his finger or the ring later lost the wedding band "in the confusion." Now I'm only a doctor of romance, but where I come from, if you make somebody an offer like that and don't deliver, there's a word for it: bullshit.
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Friday, December 10, 2004
The lingering feeling manifest.
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Thursday, December 09, 2004
But your family does! Don't forget that the gift-giving season is upon us. Buy your loved-ones The Spoonbender.com -branded merchandise by clicking "Buy a Souvenir" off to the left, and say to the world, "I love racist humor!"
Or just check out WULAD. It's funny today.
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Wednesday, December 08, 2004
You and I both know the formula for fun when we see it.
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Maybe if gorillas wrote blogs and complained about their stations in life a little more, I'd have an easier time calling them whores.
RIP, Babs.
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Tuesday, December 07, 2004
When contacted about the cable, the Bush administration refused to comment or release the name of the cable's author. They did, however, release the below photograph in which the agent's face has been obscured.
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Regular readers know I prefer CNN to any other news outlet. Why? The screenshot above is a perfect example: They craft irresistable readlines. I mean, "Peter, Paul, and Mary singer has leukemia"? But which one? Every click is like playing a scratch and win card.
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Monday, December 06, 2004
-- Jessica Coen
The Observer, December 5, 2004
Before I begin, I need to look up that German word in the last sentence.
"Enjoyment obtained at the trouble of others." Good one, Jess, and thanks for dragging yourself out of bed every morning. I know your hands are chapped and cracked from hours in the chilling cold and your muscles are aching from straining against the weight of the sledge day in, day out. Truly, yours is a thankless labor. But I thank you nonetheless.
So I know what you're thinking: Fuck them New York Jews. I want to know why you do it?
Good question, better answer: Quite simply, because my blog saves souls.
Each morning I gaze down upon my glorious body, taut as it is with tough, well-defined muscle, and completely hairless. It is fine machinery that that might look impossible to tire, but it is not. Sometimes, I'll admit, I wonder whether it's sane to try and top myself yet again; whether I'll be able to tap that wellspring of genius and pull up the sweet, golden stuff that nourishes the bodies, minds, and souls of so many. Sure, I'd like to hit the snooze bar and leave my good work to one of His Pasty Majesty Denton's retinue. Who in my position wouldn't? I wouldn't, that's who, because that would mean letting you down.
And by "you" I don't only mean you. I mean "you" more in the "vosotros" sense or, to get-down grammatically, in the "ya'll" sense. I mean you, Haji, sitting cross-legged atop your camel, chewing your cud as you cross the mighty Sahara in search of an oasis. That oasis is me. I mean you, Kunta, traditional necklace of shrunken heads around your neck and spear held high above as you sprint through the bush in search of sweet wildebeast meat. That wildebeast is me. I mean you, Nanook, nestled in your igloo amazingly made of unmelting ice even as you rub your hands over a carefully tended fire searching for warmth. That warmth is me.
For my work is not merely for the underclasses. My works is for all classes, genders, and creeds. Be you Jew, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, or some other oddball fucking thing, I am your voice. Be you old or young, male or female, straight or gay female, I am your voice. My work is for all people, be they black, white, yellow, brown, or red.
But mostly, it is for white.
Gawker might be the voice of the underclass, but The Spoonbender is for all.
Also, if you tripped in the Condé Nast cafeteria, it's because you're clumsy and are probably wearing the kind of shoes that say, "I'll trade you a rim job for an assignment during fashion week." I'm not for you, twat.
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Thanks to The Corsair, I can point you in the direction of the Temple Terrace Police Department's delectable files on the Lafave Affair. The Smoking Gun, ever ready to misuse the Freedom of Information Act for our benefit, posts the answers to pants-pressing questions like exactly what The Teacher of This Year and Every Other wore during each encounter with her "victim" and how she shaves her snizz.
And thanks to a reader and good friend we'll call "The Wanton Professor," I can share that the apparently still alive and working in television Deborah Norville interviewed the cuckolded-by-a-Weblos Mr. Owen Lafave. He related to Norville and America the tale of how Lafave purchased him an Apple iPod sometime during her affair with the student. Mr. Lafave was not aware of the gift until after his wife's arrest, when the police searched her belongings. After relating the sad tale he said, "And I have to admit that I've enjoyed that iPod many times since." I don't think there could be a more striking endorsement of the iPod than that of a man who received it from his wife after finding out that she's been blowing a 14-year-old in the back of an Isuzu Rodeo.
Debra Beasley Lafave, above, looking hot in a white sundress. Police reports indicate she wasn't wearing panties.
Lafave, again above, works her magic on a Florida judge, proving she doesn't discriminate by age.
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Friday, December 03, 2004
I know what you're thinking: But where do you draw the line, O Hated Author ofThe Spoonbender? While we all agree that you're very intelligent, who decides which members of our stupid on average society are too stupid?
Rather than answer that question, let me share something with you. Recently a Grand Island, New York bus driver was fired for sharing information about stem cell research with the students on her bus. Specifically, she quoted Mel Gibson as saying that no human cure has resulted from 23 years of stem cell research.
An aside: Grand Island is the world's largest inland island.
The way I see it, this issue is not about whether or not you agree with stem cell research or whether a person should be allowed to share those views in the workplace. The issue is that the bus driver is clearly very stupid because she quoted the man who played Rick Jarmin in Bird on a Wire as a source for scientific fact. She was, therefore, justly fired.
The moral of this story is that school buses are no longer a refuge for the stupid. Be warned.
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Thursday, December 02, 2004
So you can imagine my thrill today when I heard about the courtroom revelation that she was a motorsports model. No don't imagine, for your feeble mind cannot grasp the thrill. Instead, let me tell you: The thrill was great. In fact, it was rivaled only by my thrill at the motorsports modeling shots themselves. It was a feast of insight into her delightful mind.
There are some jobs you do, but you never become. Often you hear actors claims this about being waiters. You also hear it from poised-to-matriculate college students while they're grinding their waxed and shined bingos into your breadbasket to the sound of "Girls, Girls, Girls." I'd suggest that a reading teacher is one of these jobs.
There are other jobs that you become fully and completely. They change your identity. Marines will tell you that they'll be a Marine long after they've left the Corps. Personally, I've got the thousand yard stare from my months working at The Disney Store.
The point is, once you turn to motorsports modeling -- the endless days of lycra and hose pressed against the hot sheet steel of a low riding '89 Chevy Malibu -- you never really come back from it.
And so Debra Beasley Lafave's story, once so alluringly baffling, is suddenly, perfectly clear.
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Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Now they can join labelmate Jill "I Kissed a Girl" Sobule in making music nobody cares to hear.
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