Jenni vs. Predator Part Two: Entrapture

Me 'n' my soul had a vision. We were, like, so totally on a mission. I may be filthy dirty in the mouth and mind, but still, there are way worse perverts out there, and little kids who need my help, since obviously their parents don't give a shit.

I put on my perv-huntin' "no fat chicks" cap, fired up the ol' lappytop, and got to trolling for justice.

I'll be the first to admit, the early attempts didn't go very well. I think it was my opening lines. Perhaps I was a touch overeager.

6yrsgoingon12in: Whew, I needs me some cock.
(virtual crickets)
6yrsgoingon12in: I sed I'm 6 years old and HORNEE!!!!11!1!!
((dickenjane has left the chat room))
((D.Flower has left the chat room))
((kilfhunter69 has left the chat room))
((yngaznluvrmiller has left the chat room))

[DO OVER]

blewnicorn95: my virginity is like a brick in my tiny, lacy underpants. heavy and scratchy. If only someone would...lay that brick.
((Peeniemeeniemineymo has left the chat room))
((Chodeally has left the chat room))
((cap'njzz has left the chat room))
((the chat room is empty))
blewnicorn95: anyone?

[DO OVER]

Virjenni: Someone put me out of my misery--I've gone 10 years without sex! Ha! Because I'm only 10!! Get it? 10 years without sex? Come on, I know most of you are three, four times my age and can totally beat that!!! Let's hear it boys! Are you hornier than a fifth grader?
painalingus has left the chat room
bigballz6969 has left the chat room
insemenator has left the chat room

Huh. My quarry was obviously a bit sharper than Chris Hansen had lead me to believe--the hard sell was not gonna work. Luckily, I used to be a profeshunal writer, so I knew from subtlety. But once I started being "real" I got sort of depressed about the whole thing. How can anyone really do this and not want to blow their brains out?

Katsnatchfvr: NE buddy want 2 be my friend?
Katsnatchfvr: talk 2 me!!!!
tungkiss: Hey, sweethart, how'r U?
Katsnatchfvr: OK but how do u kno i'm sweet?
tungkiss: I dont.....but i wood like 2 find out!
Katsnatchfvr: ^o^" how?!?
tungkiss: u no how
Katsnatchfvr: no -__- ?
tungkiss: i can taste u
tungkiss: down there
Katsnatchfvr: oh yeah? on my foots?
tungkiss: UR silly I mean ur girl parts!!
Katsnatchfvr: "girl parts?!?" those have a name, dickweed
tungkiss: huh?
Katsnatchfvr: uh...oh i bet that would tingle tangle me in my underpants place
tungkiss: oh yeah u will LOVE it
Katsnatchfvr: describe it to me!!
tungkiss: i will kiss you down there like on ur mouth but instead on your pussy
Katsnatchfvr: oh you think that will do something? pfft. no wonder you talk to preteens online.
tungkiss: uh oh God UR a cop
Katsnatchfvr: silly! i was just jokin...like that guy on TV whose name nobody ever remembers
tungkiss: thats not funny we could get in a lot of truble
Katsnatchfvr: we?
tungkiss: yeah and then we cant be in luv anymore honey
Katsnatchfvr: "Luv?" Um, yeah. You probably kind of mean that. This is just too sad. Are people really this lonely? Do all of you really have no one better to talk to? Fuck, that's some messed up shit right there. Ugh, I need to lie down.
tungkiss: and I can get on top of you and make you feel good with my hard cock in your tiny pussy
Katsnatchfvr: ...
tungkiss: baby what's wrong? u make me horny
Katsnatchfvr: you make me worry about the future. and the past.
tungkiss: don't worry ill use protection
Katsnatchfvr: that's not...wow.
tungkiss: you'll be saying wow a lot honey i promise
tungkiss: i really kno how 2 do it
Katsnatchfvr: that i seriously doubt, or you wouldn't need to be here chatting up kids

Yeah, so, in the end, I didn't manage to get anyone arrested. I mean, I went to their houses and hammered their balls flat, and fed them anything that leaked out. But I'm telling you, half of them liked it, so, mission totally not accomplished.

Oh, well, no matter. I had a vision the other day about people who steal music and movies from defenseless corporations. Surely that will be an easier vigilante mission for me...(wink)

Until then, here's a bonus one:

[DO OVER]

rubberpantz: nknhbhkbmesddrs asdfasfdfdsasaewajk (Hey pervs! that means, "Hi, I'm a little toddler, totally unable to express my deep and boundless desire for delicious grown man-cock, but rest assured, I am in the market. Are any of you, perhaps, a member of the clergy, or a teacher?")

Celebrities Under the Influence

While tabloid TV shows like Extra are preoccupied with reporting that Anna Nicole is still dead, the real juicy gossip from this past weekend involves celebs and the bottle.

First, David Hasselhoff was shown drunk, on the floor and struggling to eat a hamburger in a videotape more publicly shameful than his appearance in Nick Fury: Agent of Shield.

Talking to a car was the first that hint the 'Hoff had a problem.

The next big bit o' weekend wino gossip is that Ty Pennington, host of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and designer of Sears towels, got busted on suspicion of drunk driving.

What's really noteworthy about the story (besides the fact that Sears reportedly touts "designer" towels) is that the scandal is just begging to be made over with home improvement puns... Ty got hammered! He was drinking a screwdriver! The cops nailed him! He applied some stucco and a faux patina to age up rumpus room! OK, so they're not all winners, but you can at least be guaranteed that if he ends up serving time, his cell will have sweetest racecar bed and beachfront mural in the county. If only Paris Hilton were so handy.

Ty one on!

Millions of Imaginary Girlfriends Trapped at Home While Comic-Book Geeks Flock to Movie Premiere

Now in theaters.

Only a superhero could have the potential to end the
three-week reign of Disturbia at the top of the U.S. box office.

Jenni vs. Predator Part One: Illumination

One day, Jenni felt a small tugging at the sleeve of her soul.

"I have a soul?" she thought to herself, and to no one in particular. (Jenni believed other people could hear her thoughts, and while sometimes she addressed them to someone, this time she was just too genuinely surprised to get specific about it.)

"Ahem," said the soul-tugger, "Down here."


In the dimly lit realm of the metaphysical, Jenni's soul looked down past its woefully stretched-out sleeve and gasped. Before it sat a moderately brainless and dangerously lonely child, its helpless face and large-eyed, blank stare artfully--yet ominously--illuminated by the glow of its computer screen.

As Jenni's soul watched, the scene shifted. There was the child in its own cheerfully lit home, looking for companionship and attention in unmoderated chat rooms, innocently typing and LOLing away, when what can only be described as an appropriately dark metaphoric shadow shaped like a hulking, creepy-ass, pathetic man holding a four-pack of a malt beverage appeared in the doorway, severely compromising the once cheerful lighting in the room.

"Help me," the child said.

"Fuck yeah, I'll help you--help you out of your virginity!" the shadow shaped like a big ol' nasty predator said.

"Dude. The kid was talking to me." Jenni's soul asserted.

"ROTFTNLAABIS," the child sputtered. (That means rolling on the floor totally not laughing at all because I'm scared. Seriously, these kids and their secret codes.)

"Don't worry. I got this!" Jenni's soul bellowed.

"You don't really strike me as a virgin, but shit, I'm obviously lookin' for it any way I can get it, so, yeah, all right, baby. I want to hug u and touch u naked and put my thing in u. Ur so pretty," the predatory shade said. "U like Mike's Hard Lemonade, right?"

"Shuh shuh she was talking to me," the child managed to stutter.

Just as quickly as it began, it was over. Jenni's soul tried to make sense of it all by speaking out loud.

"Huh. I wonder what that meant?" Jenni's soul pondered, "An oddly genderless child...a grown-ups' beverage in crowd-pleasing flavors...a talking shadow that shaped like a guy who wants to fuck kids...hmmm. This one's a puzzler."

Back in the physical world, Jenni read a story about Miss America bravely luring internet predators as part of her "internet safety for children" platform.

"I know what I must do," Jenni and her soul said, at the exact same time.

"You owe me a Coke," Jenni and her soul said, at the exact same time.

Two Cokes later, it was ON.

To be continued...

R.I.P. Sanjaya's American Idol Career

January 16, 2007 - April 18, 2007

R.I.P. Don Ho and Some Other Guys

Hawaiian entertainer Don Ho died of a heart attack on Saturday, despite having pacemaker surgery last September. A star of music and TV, Ho was known for crooning "Tiny Bubbles," a song that, as it turns out, doesn't happen to be about farting in a bathtub. The song will never quite sound as classy without Ho.

And sadly, with Ho's passing also comes the end of me being able to use the word "Ho" so indiscriminately without referencing Don Imus.

Don Ho
Singer/Entertainer

August 13, 1930 - April 14, 2007Don Ho has gone on to the big luau in the sky.
Rest assured, he won't be buried with an apple in his mouth.

They say that death comes in threes, so as an added bonus (if there's such thing as a death bonus), here are two extra recent dead guy tributes!

Kurt Vonnegut
Author
November 11, 1922 - April 11, 2007Insert Cliffs Notes version of some sort of snarky yet literary remark here.

Johnny Hart
"B.C." Cartoonist/"The Wizard of Id" Co-creator
February 18, 1931 - April 7, 2007

If you're to believe the Geico cavemen ads, cavemen would
probably forego comics like "B.C." for Kurt Vonnegut.
Freakin' nerds in loincloths...

A Grinding Halt

Quentin Tarantino is doing an autograph signing right now at the Virgin Megastore at the end of our street, and the line of fans is going around the block. I wonder if all those people in line are the same folks who didn't bother to see his new film Grindhouse, which he codirected with Robert Rodriguez (currently, no one's waiting in line for him, wherever he is).


The Z-grade homage to 1970s drive-in schlock had everything you'd want to see on the big screen... Fast cars! Melting genitalia! The living dead! Open sores! A jar full of testicles! Zombies feasting on Fergie's lovely lady lumps and declaring that she really is Fergalicious!


Last weekend, the film underperformed, bowing in fourth place with only $11.6 million. Even if you were to multiply its box office receipts by two for each of Grindhouse's movies, the double feature would've barely taken the top spot.


Maybe the film was too squarely aimed at movie geeks, and viewers didn't want Tarantino and Rodriguez schooling them in a precious crash-course on Retro Exploitation Flicks 101. The only way the film could've been any more self-indulgent would be if Kevin Smith had joined the party and contributed a segment. I'm sure he would've, but I think there was a "Hot Donuts" sign lit up at a Krispy Kreme somewhere. He's fat.

But here's the real skinny: maybe movie fans would just prefer to see Nicolas Cage or Tim Allen on a motorcycle instead of Rose McGowan. Apparently, that's a double feature that people would line up around the block to see.

DNA Tests Conclusive: Howard K. Stern Is a Jackass

In what could've been the best paternity episode of Maury ever, the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby was finally revealed today. After dozens of random potential fathers admitted to sleeping with Anna Nicole some time around January 2006 when the baby was conceived, it was Larry Birkhead who won the title of being the dude who managed to knock up the chick who slept with over a dozen guys in the span of a month. Way to go, bottom feeder! So much for my previous theory that Anna Nicole had an incestuous affair with her own son. That totally would've made an awesome Maury episode.

Howard K. Stern changed this baby's diapers for nothing.

Saladgate - An Official Hands in the Air Boycott

We at Hands in the Air HQ like ourselves some take-out. We're busy people and at least two of us work late more often than not these days, so we partake in a fair bit of delivered food. And like everyone, we have our favorite haunts and eateries. But something has happened that has crossed one local restaurant off of our favorites list forever--in permanent marker--then tore up the list, burned it, ate it, shit it back out, peed on it and buried the ashes on each continent. This is the tale of Saladgate--behold and despair.

Jason at dinner. Not pictured: Salad.

It was down to Jason and myself this evening, because Jenni is working late--y'know, on the stroll. I decided to order from a local Brazilian place called Bossa Nova. I like it because it's named after my favorite button on a musical keyboard. I ordered an appetizer, a sandwich and some fries. I ordered Jason some pasta and a fateful dinner salad. I placed the order by phone and all of the items were read back to me. The food showed up about 45 minutes later and I paid the delivery guy--left him a good tip, too.

A couple of minutes later, I'm going through the bag with the food, and I notice there's no dinner salad. I tell Jason what's up and I call them, expecting that they'll send one out and Jason will just have to wait a little while to eat his leafy greens. I call, and my call gets handed to the manager. "All right," I think in that cocksure way I tend to--not really, I just wanted to use the word "cocksure." Anyway, the manager starts talking and informs me that I got one salad, and if I want another one, I need to pay for it. Fair enough, but that implies that I indeed got the ONE salad I ordered and, checking the receipt, was definitely charged $3.49 for. I inform the manager that he's misunderstanding me--I don't want an additional salad, I just want the one I ordered and was charged for.

He tells me to look at the receipt. Guessing his next question, I inform him that I was indeed charged for the veggie side-dish. But he KNOWS that. No, he's curious if there's an ink mark on the receipt over the salad entry. There is, just like there is for the other items I ordered. He then informs me that that is difinitive proof of some things. 1) I got the salad I ordered. Apparently by marking the receipt by each item, that magically, unequivocally forces the marked item to reside within the confines of the attached bag. 2) I'm a thieving liar who desparately wants to rip him off for $3.49-worth of dinner salad. And 3) If I want "another" salad, they'll have to charge me. Obviously, I've had enough of this guy's bullshit and I hang up on him. I tell Jason what's up and he tries to reason with them just as I did, but he got the same result.

Jason put those a-holes on notice over the phone that we would no longer be frequenting their establishment as we do not enjoy 1) getting charged for stuff we didn't get and 2) basically being told we're lying salad thieves. I'm not sure what kind of mocking, dickish retort that restaraunteur replied with, but I'm sure it would stifle in his throat knowing that we are not just boycotting on our behalf, no no, we're invoking a full-on Hands in the Air Official Boycott. If you live in the Los Angeles area and say you're a friend of HITA or freedom or democracy or salads, you will NOT order ANYTHING from Bossa Nova until Jason is given his salad. Until that day, we will be maintaining a solemn vigil in our sidebar, informing you, the decent, honest, hard-working, salad-eating people of the world how long it's taking for the REAL salad thieves to give us what is rightfully ours.


P.S. - I tried to leave feedback on their official webpage and got an error that wasn't even in English. I didn't even use profanity, the fuckers.

Can We Get Back to Anna Nicole Yet?

Out magazine has been making some headlines over the past couple of days for their "bold" decision to run models holding cut-outs of Jodie Foster and Anderson Cooper on their cover for a feature called "The Glass Closet." I'd encourage you to read it because, while I don't agree with everything it has to say, it's at the least well written. I'll quickly summarize in saying that the article is about those celebrities, like Foster and Cooper, who "we" all know to be gay, but won't come out and admit it, why, and why they should. This point is hammered home by the cover image, which I'll say is ballsy in a "they can't possibly sue because it'll either make them look homophobic or even more gay" way. For a magazine for gay people, a pretty persecuted group the world over, this surprisingly smacks of voyeurism and intolerance.

Anderson Cooper and Jodie Foster just doin' what comes naturally. Or, not. Whichever. It's really none of our bidness. But, it looks kind of hot in toy form. I'm just saying.

Quick--someone asks if you're gay or not. What do you do? You might say "no," since it could happen to be both true and socially acceptable pretty much anywhere. But the correct answer is "none of your goddamn business," because it's not. For a town with its fair share of gay people and even more people who claim to be tolerant of gay people, Hollywood and the tabloid industry it sustains sure seems awfully interested in who is and who isn't. My question is, "why"? I would certainly count myself as a gay-friendly person, but I also feel that inquisitive urge to know when some A, B, C or Z-list star is caught in a gay bar. My point is that's an urge we should be fighting, because it's disrespectful. It's none of our goddamn business.

I also don't get what the magazine and the author of the article hopes will happen should someone like Jodie Foster or Anderson Cooper come out of the closet. Do they think that gay-bashers and other people intolerant of homosexuality will suddenly be like, "shit, the guy who reads the news on CNN is a queer? Maybe they ain't so bad!" No. The people who really hate gays refer to people like Jodie Foster or Anderson Cooper as "filthy, Hollywood liberals." They EXPECT them to be gay, because to them, anyone living within 300 miles of an ocean is a devil-worshipping sodomite. They don't relate to Jodie Foster. Shit, homegirl hasn't made a good movie since Silence of the Lambs. Have you seen Contact? That shit's boring even in the heartland.

If you want to blow some gay-haters' minds, put a fatty with a Rush Limbaugh cut-out over his face on your cover. There's some circumstantial evidence for his gayness, because no 100% straight man is this attracted to Mary Lynn Rajskub, I don't care how much 24/geek cred she has. Or what about Pat Robertson? He claims to love God a whole lot, and I'll bet if you ask him, God's a dude.

Is it that they think gay people will suddenly feel assured that they have more "spokespeople" for their lifestyle? I'm sorry--being a white, heterosexual male in America, I don't know shit about being persecuted, but I know that if I was, I wouldn't want a movie star or a cable news personality to be my figureheads. They're people with lives--go find poster children someplace else. It's not their jobs to inspire or lead anyone, so Out needs to stop acting like they're entitled to it. Lots of gay people face intolerance every day. Lots of gay people face losing their jobs, their friends and their families if they come out. Are these people any less inspiring because they don't risk losing a multi-picture deal or an exclusive cable contract? Because that seems to be what Out is saying.

I don't know if Jodie Foster or Anderson Cooper are gay, and I kinda don't care. If someday they come out of their "glass closets," good for them. If they're fine where they're at, that's just as good. Sometimes not caring how someone else chooses to live their life is about as tolerant as we human beings get. But I do know that, for now, people like Jodie Foster and Anderson Cooper aren't allowing themselves to be pressured by a hungry media and our insatiable, sick curiosity. They're saying, albeit in a much more subdued, polite manner, their personal lives are none of our goddamn business. That's pretty inspiring, too.

My Favorite Spartan

Special thanks to Brad B. for letting us borrow his King Leonidas figure. That Spartan is tough to find in stores.

Up Your Nose with Keith Richards' Dad

In the live-fast/die-young industry of music, there are only a few infamous acts of excess that truly qualify as being "rock-n-roll": Led Zeppelin violating a groupie with a mudshark; Ozzy Osbourne biting the head off a bat; Sting getting tantric with 14 straight hours of boinking; Phil Collins relieving a dry spell with a month-long session of nonstop masturbation; Enya and Celine Dion shooting Oates "just to see a man die" while Hall looked on in horror.

OK, so maybe some of those incidents never really happened (Phil Collins didn't limit himself to just a mere 30 days of vigorous self-pleasuring), but Keith Richards' latest revelation also turned out to be a big wankfest. On Monday, it was reported that the Rolling Stones guitarist mixed some cocaine with his late father's cremated remains so he could snort a noseful of dad and smack. Yesterday, Richards said he was just joking.

A junkie tries to score a kilo of dead guy from Keith Richards.
Yes, that's Keith on the right and not the aforementioned "dead guy."

So it was all a lie. With his admission, Richards instantly loses his rock-n-roll cred, and it has simultaneously put the kibosh on our up-and-coming side business of pushing baggies of dead guy ashes and manufacturing urn-bongs. That would've totally rawked.

Sure, Dad. I Swear.

The other day I got an email from my father, full of family news and all that. It was so nice, 'til I got to the end. And then...ugh. Lemme just show you:

Hi, Sweetheart--how have you and the guys been?
(personal stuff excised)
Let me know all about you and the guys. All the latest gossip.
Love, Dad
Your blogs are great, just cut down the swearing, you can write above that.

We all have parents, and we all know how they can be. But my Dad isn't usually such a priss. I dunno, it was unexpected. Usually my parents are kind of realistic about the type of person I am. It's not like I've changed much...ever.

So I wrote back.

Dad,

Write above that? Uh, no thanks. That's an embarassingly "Bill Cosby" sentiment but you know, it would mean more if you didn't ever ever ever swear yourself. But um, you do. So. How 'bout you leave the writing and entertaining to me, and I'll leave the selling cars to you.

Look at that. Whole paragraph without swearing. And it SUCKED. You are getting old and weird on me. Stop it. If you start wearing Bill Cosby sweaters, then I'll probably disown you.

Anyway, I'm glad you had a good time at Momo's birthday, and that your health is ok. I've been mostly supergood myself on the health front, eating salads and vegetables and stuff so I can get knocked up and get you people another grandbaby. That too blue for ya? Huh?

There's nothing really going on here, I have been working a whole lot, and you know, cussing every other word. I got a new boss I like, and I'm working on more game development, which is great, but I also have to do some of my old stuff, which isn't any fun. I got you a t-shirt, but it's only an XL. Pretty big one tho. I'll try to send it. If my cussing doesn't get me kicked out of the post office, that is.

The boys are ok, Jason is working a lot, maybe even more than I am. He is such a hard worker. Steve's office is moving but that's about it. He's a hard worker, too. We're a very hardworking bunch. We did a ton of cleaning and all that. Except for our rooms which are as dirty as our mouths. The place looks good.

I hate my couch and want a new tv, too. We're looking for a new place to live, so we can spread out. We need a couple of rooms for our toys and video games. And, all those cuss words take up a lot of space.

I think I might post this on the blog. Because it's squeaky motherfucking clean.

Oh applesauce, I messed it up.
Jenni

P.S. I really am going to post this on the blog. I'll edit your letter. That will get us both something, I'll get an easy post and you'll get a mostly clean post. Thanks, Dad!!!

He replied. I'll spare you the details, save these few--quite ironically, my Dad's reply includes (Da da DUH!) cusswords. The evidence:

"a couple fu---, screw ups"
"These as---- gentlemen would give it to you in the as----"
"they can kiss my Mexican ass"
"take the damn pills "

Yeah. I got on my total high horse for my reply, and again, I'll take out the personal details:

Think of how much better your response would have been if you just could have used the cusswords. We both know which words you meant there. So, what was saved with the dashes? Do you see how these words are necessary and useful? How they add meaning, punctuation, emotional heft, gravity and style to what you're trying to express? Plus, they drive right to the point and everyone knows exactly what you mean--so many other words are so easily misinterpreted.

Yeah, you can write without them, and usually when I'm getting paid to write, I do without, but for my own stuff, why would I want to limit myself? Maybe as an interesting challenge, if those words were something I didn't think I could do without.

But honestly, I can turn it on and off since I've had to write clean so often. My personal voice happens to include the dirty words I grew up hearing daily. It's me. It's honest.

(personal bloody details excised)

On that up note, I'll say goodbye, and thanks for being a sport about being on the blog.

Jenni

Yeah, I think we've all learned an important lesson here--old people are fucking weird. Parents, doubly so.


(For non-dorks, the image above is of Helena Wayne, the Huntress, who also happens to be the daughter of Batman and Catwoman. She so feels my pain.)

Nerds Lured Out of Basements with R2-D2 Mailboxes

Droids are going postal as the United States Postal Service commemorates the 30th anniversary of Star Wars with special edition R2-D2 mailboxes. In a scheme to get more people to use stamps, the USPS has disguised public mailboxes as Artoo so cyberdorks will be tempted to drop off real-life letters rather than zapping out e-mail to their friends. Sadly, however, it turns out the friends of most geeks are actually droids anyway.

With the convenient R2-D2 mailbox, Princess Leia is able to smuggle out the Death Star plans while also signing up for 10 CDs for a penny.

Last week, the R2-D2 mailboxes started popping up across the U.S. and in other far, far away places like in front of NBC Studios in Burbank.

Across from Warner Bros. Studios, Burbank:
R2-D2 visits the Taco Bell to hit on the sexy garbage droid.

R.I.P. Sinbad... No, Wait.

Rest easy, comedy fans -- Sinbad is alive and well. The comedian, best known for starring in Jingle All the Way and world-renowned for his swashbuckling voyages across the seven seas, was erroneously reported dead on Thursday by user-generated site Wikipedia.

Sinbad
Actor-Comedian/Sailor-Arabian Knight
November 10, 1956 - March 15, 2006
March 16, 2006 -

For a brief moment, the Laugh Factory almost updated its marquee to memorialize Sinbad, but they didn't have enough letters to spell out "Make God mildly chuckle at your jokes, 2-inch fade and blue pleather jumpsuit. They're not all funny, but 2 outta 3 ain't bad."

Perhaps the false report was posted by an overeager moviegoer who's still smarting from a debilitating case of side-splitting after seeing Houseguest, but it could very well be that Sinbad himself wrote the article. This past week, Sinbad enjoyed what likely amounts to the most press he's gotten in his entire career, and the hype is all over an entirely non-noteworthy event: Sinbad is still alive. In related news, several other uncelebrities have been confirmed to still be among us, including the youngest son from TV's Mr. Belvedere, the lead singer from The Verve Pipe and Jimmy Fallon.

E-Mail Theatre: Chapter II

The second installment of E-Mail Theatre has come in faster than pharmacy/penis enlargement/mortgage spam can fill up the Hands in the Air mailbox. This tale supposedly comes to us from the Ivory Coast, and it's been dramatized for your enjoyment...

Click on each comic page to enlarge it for reading...

Rise of the Silver Surfer

The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer doesn't hit theaters until June 15, but the sequel's ad blitz is already under way. To commemorate the return of Jessica Alba in a skin-tight supersuit, here's a tribute to her upcoming film in toy form.

Possibly the best movie about a spaced-out surfer since Point Break.

E-Mail Theatre: Chapter I

A lot of spam finds its way into the Hands in the Air mailbox, so why not turn lemons into lemonade? By dramatizing the spam into cartoon strip re-enactments, I've created the first installment of E-Mail Theatre! And just like lemonade, it's sweet, refreshing and will make your face squish all up.

Today's episode features the actual transcript of a spam scam from a so-called banker named "Williams Smith." Click on each comic strip page to enlarge it for reading.

Got an e-mail you'd like dramatized in Hands in the Air's E-Mail Theatre? Send it in to handsintheairmail@gmail.com. Just don't sign us up for any newsletters or anything. Do not betray our confidence.

Can't look away from the Oscarnage

As wannabe Hollywood insiders (read: douches in training) it seemed only natural that we should liveblog the Oscars from our unbelievably close perch approximately 22 blocks away from the Academy Awards' epicenter (and one of our favorite Chinese joints, incidentally). Yep, we're close enough to hear the helicopters overhead, then hear them again a moment later on the preshow. Take that, flyover states!

I know some people like it when the latest post is at the top for liveblogging...well, fuck y'all, I'm not gonna do it one way then reverse it for posterity. Deal with it.

5:08 Steve is killing me with his extremely strong opinions on what the ladies are wearing. He's got a bit of the Seacrest in him. I was going to make a penis in ass joke here, but I didn't, becuz the Oscars is classy.

Steve's likes: Jennifer Lopez and Reese Witherspoon's dresses.

Steve's observations on fashion: Cameron Diaz looks like hell. Hate the hair, hate the makeup, hate the dress. The earrings are ok. Reese Witherspoon's hair color is awful, he hates that dark roots with blonde hair look. And he can't believe people aren't calling Nicole Kidman on her bullshit red bow on shoulder disaster. He also hates when people like Penelope Cruz pull their hair back, because a lot of the actresses have too angular features and you really need a softer, rounder face to make that look work.

We've both noticed a lot of people are rocking the cool-toned light brown hair that I've had for a few years now. God you fucking Hollywood bitches, quit fucking copying me!

5:22 Oh Marky Mark, I think we all know why you weren't in a Martin Scorsese film any sooner. He knew that peepee you were showing off in Boogie Nights was fake.

5:24 Did that ugly, wooden broad from Lucky Magazine just call Guillermo del Toro, Alfonso Cuaron and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu "The Three Amigos?" Oh ha ha three Mexicans at the Oscars, and none with a broom! Delightful. If we cover you in cinnamon sugar, Guillermo del Toro will eat you alive, bitch.

5:31 I'm hating this seemingly Mac commercial-inspired opening sequence. Too long, not cute, is this supposed to be funny? Oh, Helen Mirren (naughty link NSFW), Steve said earlier he'd stuff her ballot box, if you get my meaning. That means he would fuck her.

5:35 Thank God they're spotlighting everyone who's nominated. They really don't get enough credit. Except for this big fucking award show. And the Governor's Ball afterward. And the increased paychecks from the cachet of being nominated. Are there still gift bags? I think there are, they just need to pay taxes on them (wink).

5:37 Jason (who's working right now, ha ha ha sucker) says this year's Oscar theme is "Green Oscars" or something. This is the green Oscars? Hence the arrivals in hybrid cars. Oh, you mean they didn't show that on your TV, either? Yeah. Wicked. I hope you're happy, Al Gore. P.S. I like Ellen's daring dark red velvet pantsuit. The shoes, maybe not. She sort of looks like the red velvet cupcake I had the other day. Ellen is my little cupcake.

5:41 I am having a hard time paying attention to the opening monologue. That Blacks, gays and Jews joke/follow-up Oscar joke was actually pretty funny, tho.

5:45 The first award--Art Direction. Oh, Jason was right, they did shuffle the traditional order of awards. He says because the producers of the show felt the big ones this year are the supporting actor categories that usually lead the show, if they lead with them, people would tune out early. So, there you go. Speaking of Jason, he's on to an early lead in our small Oscar pool, having picked Pan's Labyrinth as the winner.

5:53 Will Ferrel's white man fro is making my girl parts tingle. Or, the bleach I used to clean the bathroom really is as toxic as I thought it might be...since my girl parts are like, so not the only things tingling.

5:55 Jack Black thinks Helen Mirren is hot, too. See, Steve, it's OK I outed you. I like this little comedy song thing. Did I just earn my Hollywood Douche Card? Pwease?!?

5:58 The makeup award goes to Pan's Labyrinth. Jason called it. We now think he was holding out on us, the little bitch. We were at the Silver Spoon (A QT hangout! Douche Card?) filling out our ballot things and we had only one pen and he was all "Wah, I don't know what to pick, you guys go first." Yeah right, you bastard.

6:01 Kids and Oscars go together like peanut butter and jelly...like hamburgers and french fries...hell, like kids and rape scenes. Uh-oh, Jaden messed up, Will is probably okay with that but Jada don't play. None of us picked The Danish Poet for Animated Short. West Bank Story wins for Live Action Short, which Steve and I picked and Jason said would totally not win. Whatev, Jason.

6:13 I think we're all pretty confused about this sound effects choir, including those in the audience. Failed joke? Real thing? Dunno. Oh, well.

6:15 Sound Editing...Letters from Iwo Jima. It is usually a war movie that wins this shit. Sound Mixing...Dreamgirls. I like how they're illustrating what these categories mean with visuals because I'm sure people think it should just be one Goddamn category.

6:22 Supporting Actor. What kind of clip is that from Little Children? Dude comes out of a pool, yelling? Maybe someone doesn't like that dude. Alan Arkin wins. Eddie Murphy is putting on a good face, but I think I caught a microexpression of surprise. Steve is gloating because even tho he didn't pick Arkin, he was certain Eddie Murphy would not win. He thinks we owe him something for knowing that.

I think the bendy people acting out the Best Picture nominees thing is sort of cute. Steve hates them and thinks things like this should be cut, not acceptance speeches. He doesn't get that they have to put on a show. His Douche Card is so not in the mail.

6:36 Hollywood is Al Gore's dirty little bitch. How else can you explain Current TV still being on the air? They're talking about the green Oscars now. Yeah, nothing wasteful about a huge show like this. No way.

6:42 Ellen's a decent host. Oh, who doesn't like insertion of the animated characters into the audience? Oh, look, reaction shots! Ahahahaha. Golly, gee, how did they do that? It looks soooo real. Happy Feet wins the Animated Feature category.

6:45 A tribute to writers. Oh, please, anyone can write. The internet is proof of that.

6:49 What do you think they'll do with that bitchin' crystal curtain? Sparkly.

6:50 Best Adapted Screenplay--they're reading from the scripts over the scene from the movie, then continuing the scene from the movie only. My God, it's like, movie magic. Someone writes this stuff? Even the visual stuff? Get out of here right now. The Departed wins. The announcer person just called Infernal Affairs a Japanese movie. Um. Awesome.

7:00 Costume design. This is nice, having the costumes there. Marie Antoinette wins. Yeah, those are pretty sweet.

7:13 Cinematography. Pan's Labyrinth. Yeah, I have only gotten two right, including this one. I'm sucking.

7:21 Visual Effects. Pirates of the Caribbean. The factoids they're occasionally giving out about the winners are dumb. The winner's joke about being blind and from the Bronx--hilarious! The Bronx sucks! Hah! It makes you blind and unfunny.

7:25 Do they always get foreigners to give out the Best Foreign Language Film award? Because they should. Because they're foreign films. Americans don't see those and don't care. Well, if one had like a lot of boobies in it, maybe. Les Boobies du Matin or some shit. I adore Cate Blanchett's dress. It has boobies in it, that's why I care. The Lives of Others won, in case you do care.

7:33 Has George Clooney had work done recently? He looks fantastic. As fresh and dewy as Abigail Breslin. Jennifer Hudson won. She's pretty dewy, too. Beyonce's reaction shot--the best acting she's ever, ever done. Oh, Jennifer Hudson. That last-minute shout-out to Jennifer Holliday...you're keepin' it for really real, girl.

7:40 A Dancing With the Stars promo just implied that dancing with one fake leg is the "ultimate dance challenge." Or...does that mean she doesn't get to wear the prosthetic leg in the competition? Because I would so watch that.

7:43 The Blood of Yingzhou District wins the Documentary Short category. Steve wonders aloud if they have to let people give speeches for categories nobody cares about. Oh my little Steve. He's so cute.

7:47 Best Documentary Feature. Let's see if Hollywood really is Al Gore's dirty little bitch. Um, yep. An Inconvenient Truth wins. Larry David is a big environmentalist, which is why they cut to him for a reaction shot, in case you're wondering. Show directors do that sort of thing. (That Hollywood Douche Card must be in the mail now.)

7:51 Jason says Ennio Morricone is pissed he's getting an honorary Oscar because he rather liked being in the company of those who were never given an Oscar. I see his point. But truly, he's now in the company of greats like Ben Affleck and Matt Damon (Screenplay), Hoppy Goldberg (Supporting Actress) and the guy who wrote "You Light Up My Life." So. Yeah. Good company either way.

8:08 Babel wins for Original Score. Latino power! That's why I'm the one liveblogging. It's our year.

8:11 Didn't Kirsten Dunst used to have tits? Like, pretty decent tits? Isn't that why white guys (and pretty much only white guys) think she's hot? The tittays? Original Screenplay. They're doing the reading trick, which Steve rather likes. I guess it's nice that they are illustrating some of the--ah--boring-er categories for the plebs and all. Like Steve. Little Miss Sunshine wins. Jason and I are tied at 7 correct guesses each. Steve's rocking in at 5. We are sucking on this one.

8:23 Steve says that losing the Oscar was the kind of loss Eddie Murphy can only soothe by the killing of hookers. Yeah, I think we've all been there. Oh look, Jennifer Hudson's bra appears to be showing a bit. Scandal! Oh no, not a choir. Please, no. Didn't we all collectively get over that in the 90s?

8:28 Melissa Etheridge is also Al Gore's dirty little bitch. She won for Best Song, tho. Upset! You all thought something from Dreamgirls was gonna win, didn't ya? Yeah, we did, too.

8:36 Will Smith is just magical because it looks like at any moment his ears will start flapping, at first like a butterfly and then faster, like a hummingbird, and take him up to heaven where he must have come from. I think that's why America loves him so.

8:40 Kate Winslet is wearing mint green. A couple of broads are. Beyonce was, anyway. Why? It's ugly. Actually, Kate's dress might be closer to a pastel version of lime green. Sage? Whatever, still ugly. Film Editing category. Thelma Schoonmaker. Damn, I shoulda picked her. I thought about it.

8:45 Time for, as Steve calls it, The March of the Dead People. 'Bout halfway thru and James Doohan is winning--God finally beamed him up. Robert Altman, the last person, totally won, but the clapping was subdued throughout, even for people like Peter Boyle. Huh. Green Oscars, you have a lot to answer for. Does clapping for the dead increase your carbon footprint? I guess it must. Damn you, Al Gore!

8:54 Helen Mirren wins Best Actress. Um, why does Meryl Streep dress like that? Like she's a drama teacher or a psychotherapist? Huh? Anyone?

9:04 (Or so.) Forest Whitaker wins Best Actor. Man, what the fuck is he talking about with lifetimes and shit? That whole speech was just...I totally couldn't listen.

9:07 I think everyone in the world knew this was Martin Scorsese's year, including whoever picked the presenters. This Best Director gets a standing O and big cheers from the audience. That's nice, actually. Somehow, I don't think they'll be playing him off as he runs at the mouth in that adorably New Yawk way.

9:14 The Departed wins Best Picture. Final tallies: Steve with eight right and Jason and Jenni tying for the win with a pathetic 11 correct each. Together, we only correctly picked the winners of 15 of the 24 categories.

Hm. Maybe I shoulda told someone I was doing this liveblogging thing, since it's maybe more interesting in the moment. Oh, well.

Shave 4 U

Britney is bald! After a year of dominating entertainment news by dropping her husband/baby/panties, Britney Spears has resorted to a new ploy to land herself on the front pages of the tabloids by shaving her head. The stunt is almost taking some of the limelight away from Anna Nicole, who even in death is still able to snag the top story on Extra.

As Steve puts it, "Britney's carpet finally matches the drapes."

In a time when other stars are sporting hairpieces to cover up their baldness (see Nicolas Cage in Ghost Rider), Brit is bravely going Brazilian up top. Sure, Natalie Portman has already done that for V for Vendetta, but in a show of support for Britney, the Hands in the Air gang will be cue-balling it Britney-style for the day...

Valentine's Day Tribute, Part 3

Happy Valentine's Day! Whether you're wining and dining a loved one or hiding out at home so no one will see you're spending the night alone, the occasion manages to bring out the warm fuzzies in all of us. To celebrate, here's the third and final installment of the Hands in the Air gang re-enacting famous romance scenes from the movies...

Steve and Jenni in Romeo and Juliet

Jenni and Steve in Armageddon

Chris in The Crying Game