Category Archives: Other

The Revengeners

Mark Ruffalo Did Nearly 100 Push-Ups a Day to Achieve This Physique and Complexion

The Avengers! Have you seen it, yet? Awesome, right? If you haven’t, my sincere apologies for your lack of free time and/or coolness. While I was unclear as to what this lovable team of super-hunks was avenging exactly (unless maybe it was the deaths of the anonymous lab techs and military personnel in that first fight whom, let’s face it, no one cared about), I would love to see this movie as a Broadway musical. Hits would include, “Iron Man, Regular Woman: The Ballad of Pepper Potts”, “Tears of a Hulk”, and “Ascots in Asgard”, a heart-wrenching song about how long hair looks alarmingly sexy on Thor, but makes Loki look extremely effeminate. Someone please get on making this happen, immediately.

One warning though, if you haven’t seen it in theaters yet: you will sit next to a young man for whom this movie is the highlight of his existence, and he will laugh like a mad jackal at everything. Everything. Even things that warrant a bemused chortle at most. Example:

Someone Who Isn’t Iron Man (my memory’s not perfect): I thought that space thing was underwater. How is Iron Man going to get it?

Smash Cut to Iron Man, easily getting the space thing from underwater.


Honestly, going into The Avengers, I thought that writer/director Joss Whedon could not possibly combine the five “prequels” into one super-movie without it turning out to be a cheap schizophrenic nightmare of oddly expository dialogue and forced flashbacks …you know, like a clip-show? But it wasn’t a clip-show. It was a normal show. A great show, even, that, while it didn’t change my life or make me feel anything rare or complex, had me thinking, “thisissocool, thisissocool, thisissocool” at all times. And then there’s the sex appeal. Whoa, mama! They figured out how to put Mark Ruffalo’s face on a giant green CGI body, which is every girl’s dream.

I know that the movie is based on comics and everything, and you can’t mess with the original material too much, but the thing that would have made The Avengers cooler is if it had more than the one token girl hero. Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson, beloved by all) was a badass, but her “superpower” is the ability to look hot and be good at murder at the same time. On one had, that’s a rip-off; on the other hand, I begrudgingly respect her for holding her own in a crime-fighting syndicate where everyone but her (and arguably Hawkeye, although I guess he can see pretty well) has amazing superhuman abilities and a penis.

Still, the characters were remarkably well-defined (Captain America = noble yet sexy boy scout, Iron Man = egomaniacal yet sexy smart-ass, Bruce Banner = deeply ashamed yet sexy humanitarian doctor/scientist, etc) even though a lazier writer would have used only the crutches of costumes and super-abilities to differentiate them, which was, as the kids say, hella impressive, yo! So fun. Didn’t you love it?


Posted by on May 27, 2012 in Other


Give Me Money Because I Am Sad

Dear Scholarship Application Selection Committee,

In addition to the financial need demonstrated by my enclosed 1040 tax form, I would like to detail to you the extreme adversity I have borne and overcome during my relatively short lifetime, which I hope you will take into consideration when you elect the winners of your graduate school scholarship.

You see, I was born with no teeth. For a significant portion of my life, I could not enjoy the simple pleasures of a fresh ear of Iowa corn, nor indeed any solid food. My smile was grotesque at best and this, I believe, led me to spend much of my formative childhood friendless. I cried all day and all night. Only my parents would talk to me, and when they did it was in garbled, nonsense syllables. Even they knew I was too stupid to understand even the simplest of sentences. I could not talk. My motor skills and bodily functions were erratic and unpredictable: not within my control. I had no money to my name. I was unemployable. I was bald. It was a sad and inauspicious beginning.

I struggled to learn. I was determined to soak up the knowledge I would need to make it in this big, harsh world. I set myself small goals at first: learn my name, learn to grasp, learn to sit up by myself. Then I progressed to larger goals: learn to talk, learn to walk, learn to dress myself. Yes, it took me many years, but eventually I was able to read, write crudely, and wear big-girl panties. By sheer willpower, I grew hair and teeth, and where I once weighed a mere 8.8 lbs (due to a genetic deformity, not, as many have suspected, an eating disorder) I was now over a whopping hundred pounds.

Then, tragedy struck once more. Around high school I began another monstrous transformation. I became a giantess at 5’9″. I was taller than most of the males my age, but still weighed only 120 lbs. I stalked the hallways like a spindly praying mantis; a hideous fun-house mirror image of a girl. Once again, I needed special undergarments; this time, oddly enough, for my upper torso. The emotional and psychological damage was worse. I suddenly became contemptuous of all authority. I read Camus’ The Stranger and was hurled into an existential crisis of apathy and hopelessness as I realized the crushing realities of reality. It was hell.

I survived. Barely. I even made it to college, but again the fates steered my life’s ship into a storm. I was surrounded by alcohol abuse. Many weekends during the year, my so-called friends would gather at my house and drink. Beer. Vodka. Gummy bears soaked in rum. Anything they could afford to buy at the liquor store down the street. They would use any lame excuse. “Our school’s football team is playing football on tv,” they’d say. “It’s New Year’s Eve,” maybe, or “St. Patrick’s”. It was pathetic, but I got sucked into the dark underworld of casual social drinking.

I realize now that things have to change. I sincerely pray that my body and psyche are stable and undamaged by my tumultuous past. Because of all of my horrible adversity, I am determined to fill my limited brain with fiction. Literary fiction. Non-fiction is too brutal. Perhaps if I pursue my graduate degree in Creative Writing I can at least imagine a world in which I am normal, beautiful, and sane.

Thank you for your consideration,



Posted by on October 19, 2011 in Other


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Hi guys. I can’t watch movies because I’m in Delaware where talking pictures are a sin. Now that I’ve seen a little more of the world, I can tell you one thing: Midwesterners are polite. Iowans especially. As evidence, here are three interactions between Iowans in their natural habitats. They are real. I witnessed them.

On the Ped Mall in Iowa City

Guy in Hoodie: Pardon me, ma’am. I DO hate to bother you, but…well…

Older Lady: What is it, dear?

Guy: It’s just that I have this little gun and a financial problem. I hate to trouble you, but I would rather not shoot you, especially considering it could muss up your darling cardigan. What is that, wool? Anyway, I digress. May I please have all the money you may happen to have with you?

Lady: Oh, Sweetheart. It’s no trouble at all. I was just going to spend this wad of cash on a silly de-humidifier.

Guy: I’m so sorry about this and I really appreciate your co-operation.

Lady: No, listen, we’ve all been there, darling. Life sometimes hands you a lemon and backs you into a li’l old socio-economic corner, and goldarn it (pardon my language) if it doesn’t make you reach out to your neighbors.

(takes off Rolex)

Guys: No, please, just cash is fine. I hate to put you out like this as it is.

Lady: Here. It was my grandfather’s. This is what neighbors are for, Honey Pie.

Guy: You are TOO kind, really. Thank you very, very much.

Lady: Now you be careful with that gun, you hear? You don’t want to go and put someone’s eye or brain out.

Guy: I will, ma’am. Cross my heart.

Lady: That’s a good boy. Run along now.

At the Strip Club

Man: Pardon me, miss, but…well…

Stripper: What is it, dear?

Man: Could you…Would you mind shaking it, baby?

Stripper: Oh, of COURSE not, Lambchop. Is this okay?


Man: Yes, that’s lovely, miss. Much obliged. Please accept this small token of my gratitude.

(puts dollar in g-string)

Stripper: Well aren’t you just a doll! Thank you very much! You have very kind eyes, sir.

Man: Oh, stop. I’m blushing.

Stripper: Would you like me to touch-dance with you?

Man: It would be my honor.

(makes to stand)

Stripper: Please, don’t get up! Sit, sit! Make yourself comfortable. I will just sit in your lap and dance.

Man: Golly. How accommodating. You are the salt of the earth, miss.

Stripper: We are all God’s beautiful children.

(begins lap dance)

In the Army

Drill Sargent: Forgive me, good soldier, but might I trouble you with a small request?

Soldier: Oh my, yes. Anything for you. You have been like a father to me. And indeed to all the men and women in our unit.

Drill Sargent: Gosh, you kids. It’s just… well…

Soldier: What is it, dearest Sargent?

Drill Sargent: Would you be so kind as to drop and give me 50?

Soldier: Come, now. For you, I’ll do 100.

Drill Sargent: No, no, please. 50 is all I ask.

Soldier: If you insist. But I get to do them one-handed, and I won’t take no for an answer. ONE! TWO! THREE! Are these to your liking, sir?

Drill Sargeant: I couldn’t ask for nicer push-ups. Well done, my friend.


Drill Sargent: Hey, you scamp! I said fifty!

Soldier: Those extra ones were my gift to you. You would do the same for me. Please, if there’s ever anything else I can do for you, don’t even hesitate to ask.

Drill Sargent: Well, now that you mention it… No, nevermind. I can do it myself.

Soldier: Please, sir. Let me ease your burden. It would be doing me a kindness to not have me stand by idly while there is something that you need.

Drill Sargent: I DO need the latrine to be scrubbed with a toothbrush, but…

Soldier: Sarge?

Drill Sargent: Yes, soldier?

Soldier: I woke up early and did it as a surprise for you. You have a really lovely day, and remember…anything you need, just holler.

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Posted by on September 25, 2011 in Other


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