Dictators Who Could be Saved by the Bell

So I was annoyingly failing trying to make Mario Lopez unattractive in a completely heterosexual-yet-comfortable-with-my-own-non-homesexuality way when I thought back to my "Hitler moustache post" and wondered to myself:

What would happen if the most EVIL people in the world had Mario's features?

You don't have to ask me twice, people.

LET'S GO TO THE TAPE!

Bad Guy #1: Joseph Stalin


Joseph Stalin was the Soviet Leader from 1922 until blah blah blah that's what the Hell Wikipedia is for, people.

Let's LOPEZIFY HIM!

Joseph Stalin-Lopez


Please bear with me as I only have shitty Microsoft Paint on this thing so maybe, like, squint your eyes or some shit to get the true effect of this.

What I think I ended up with here is something that looks like the guy who played "The Bear Jew" in "Inglorious Basterds" but with a really bad makeup job.


Regardless, there's no way Joseph Stalin-Lopez ain't pullin' some legendary Babushka tail with those dimples.

Please note I didn't have to touch Stalin's hair AT ALL so I'm pretty sure that means that Mario Lopez is a Communist or - at the very least - is giving us a bullshit line about his Mexican heritage.

Saved by the Bell? More like "Saved by the Stateless and Classless Society Structured Upon Common Ownership of the Means of Production."

We're watching you, Mario. Or should I say, Mariovsky?

Bad Guy #2: Kim Jong Il


Kim Jong Il is the guy who runs one of the Koreas and I think it's North but it might be South and that ISN'T me saying that 'they all look alike' (they do) but I kind of only watch sports on the news and do the Sudoku in the paper unless Garfield has Nermal in it.

Nermal. What crazy shenanigans will you get Garfield into next?!

Let's LOPEZIFY HIM!

Kim Jong Il-Lopez

Um.

Two things are now abundantlly clear to me:

1) Microsoft Paint is NOT even a little close to being a photo editor AT ALL, and

2) This is what Urkel would have looked like if he had Elvis and Lucy Liu as parents.

Kim Jong Il-Lopez' looks say, "Sure I'm some creepy Asian-American-rock-icon-hybrid, but I have no interest in nuking my neighbors because I'm kind of busy doing tech support at Best Buy."

We are the world, Kim Jong Il.

We are the world.

Bad Guy #3: Ayatollah Khomenei


So this guy was a bad guy in Iran who may or may not have done bad shit but I'm pretty sure Ronald Reagan didn't like the guy and anyone Ronald Reagan didn't like, well, I don't like you, either.

Yeah. I'm looking at YOU, Ron Reagan, Junior.

Regardless, by the time you read this I may be dead or in hiding or dead while in hiding because as I was making this post I Tweeted:


..and then no one replied to me so THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR CONCERN YOU ASSHOLES.

Well..it's too late now so LET'S LOPEZIFY HIM!

Ayatollah Khomenei-Lopez


Well, it's now painfully obvious that matching skin tones with Mario isn't the easiest thing when using a free drawing tool on Windows 7 (nice job, Bill Gates) so OOOOH I have Corel something or other so let's see if I can turn this into a painting!

(2 hours later after fucking with brush tones and blends and online help and SERIOUSLY FUCK YOU, BILL GATES..)


And now the softer yet much more rugged Ayatollah Khomenei-Lopez says to the world, "Hey world. Yeah. I'm over here. *wink* Let's forget about our religious and political differences and ignore how we treat our women and let's just rip off our political burkhas and fling off our flip-flops as you ignore my complete lack of hygiene and we make sweet, sweet love together on a bed instead of, like, camel hair or whatever the fuck we screw on in Iran."

Can Mario Lopez bring true peace to the Middle East?

I'm beginning to think it's possible.

Don't worry. I have more.

I just have to come out of hiding first.

Moog Rushdie out.

The Voracious....MUFFIN TOP!!

Man...I would SO beat the knees out of those contestants.

Let me explain...

AMERICAN GLADIATORS IS BACK AGAIN!!

That's right all you Schlitz drinking hillbillies with mullets and wives that look like fat male mechanics...

IT'S BACK.

One of my favorite remakes of my misspent youth is back for yet another new season.


It's also one of the few shows that I can watch on TV with my kids these days...

...without having to try to explain sh*t like:

1) "Daddy...what's DVDA?"

2) "Daddy...are clams REALLY bearded?"

3) "Daddy...what's a 'money shot?'"

4) "Daddy...there's a man named "Chris Hansen" here to see you."

F*cking NBC.

HOW MANY TIMES MUST I RUN?!?!


Anyway...

There's a HUGE difference between the new American Gladiators and the AG that I grew up with:

1) The girl gladiators on the new show ARE HOT

HOT.

Here's one of my favorite new gladiators, Crush:


Here's one of the gladiators from the early 90's:


Yeah.

Apparently, you needed to be a f*cking hermaphrodite to qualify as a Gladiator back then.

Penis + vagina = 1990's American Gladiator

...just in case you were keeping score at home.

2) Hulk Hogan's on this one.

Hulkamania!? Are you sh*tting me?!

When does he rip off his friggin' shirt and kick someone's ass?! Can this get any better announcer-wise?


Who'd we have before?

Joe Theismann and Larry Csonka?

Ooooh...

Riveting.

These two were so painful to listen to, I considered flying to the studio to re-break Theismann's leg "Tonya Harding Style" and pin it on Csonka just to get them the f*ck off the show.


3) Gladiator Names

The Gladiator Names on the new one are SO much better.

Let's compare:

1990 Gladiator Names and their Sex:

1) Laser (guy)

Ooooh. It's a LASER! Yep...he's as tough and scary as a beam of light!!

I have a f*cking thing hanging off my keychain that has a laser on it.

Yeah...you're THAT scary.


2) Sunny (woman)

Nothing to strike fear into the heart of a competitor more than having to face someone named, "Sunny."

3) Nitro (asshole)

Nitro also came back as an announcer.

Just his mere presence on the screen made me want to throw a brick through the f*cking thing.


4) Zap (not sure of it's sex)

A chick who would resemble my balls if they were capable of lifting weights on their own.

But..um...Zap?

That's the noise my finger makes when I touch a doorknob (or wear one of those electric dog collars).

Ooooooh....frightening.

Still wouldn't want to meet this thng in a dark alley though...God knows where it would violate me.


2008 Gladiator Names and their Sex:

1) Toa (guy)

Crazy jacked tattooed Samoan dude.

My wife thinks he's got the best body of all the Gladiators.

This made me consider getting another tattoo...but they hurt...so I'm not gonna and you can't make me.


2) Crush (girl)

See above.

(Crush...Call me)

3) Wolf (guy)

Yet another crazy guy who slightly resembles what I think my ball-shavings would create if they landed on a glop of Play-Doh sitting on the floor.


4) Hellga (girl)

Hellga only bests the 1990's Zap in attractiveness if you find huge, overweight manly-sounding chicks in thigh-high stockings hot.

Me? Not so much.

I fear that, as a contestant, I would be required to actually scale Hellga instead of the climbing wall.

It's just as lumpy.


Which brings me to my next thought...

If Moog was an American Gladiator he would be introduced as:

1) MuffinTop!

(admittedly...I need to hit the gym more often)

2) E.D!!

(I tend to bow out of most competitions early)


3) MannnnnScape!

That's right, baby...

I'm Smooooooooth.

Quite unlike Wolf's face...Hellga's midsection...

...or Zap's asexual appendages.

Please don't hurt me, Gladiators.

Except you, Crush...

Have at it.

Apocalypse NOW

Atheists everywhere are rejoicing.

They have their validation.

That's right folks....apparently....

THERE IS NO GOD.

Need proof?

Well...guess what?

I have the proof.

Here it is:


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Not ONLY is she engaged...but...but...

...TO THIS?!?!?!?:


Ryan F*cking Reynolds?

Isn't this the guy from "Van Wilder?"

What did that make, like, $4 at the f*cking box office?

Could she actually aim any lower?

Van F*cking Wilder.

Douche.


Anyway...

...this has prompted a new poll on the right side of this page.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

As I believe that "Scarlett Marrying Ryan" is the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse (he was not very popular with the press until now).

Of course...this assumes you believe in God...

...which we now know is simply not possible.

He wouldn't have allowed this travesty to happen.


On a side note, my daughter's First Communion is this Saturday.

I'll go...

...but it will be in protest.

See you next week!

Moog out.

How to scare a celebrity

It was Scarlett Johansson.

A friend of mine shot me an Instant Message the other day, saying she had seen Scarlett Johansson at the Houston airport.

Me, at this point, being completely speechless about actually SEEING her (as I formerly believed that someone that hot could only exist via airbrushing), started grilling her on it. My friend said that she was wearing some glasses to disguise herself, but that she knew it was Scarlett when she overheard her talking on her cell phone. They were so close to each other, that they brushed shoulders.

She said that she neglected to ask her for her autograph, but – and here’s the good part – she did manage to get a picture of her.

I feel shifting in my loins. Boinnnggg!!!!

I immediately asked for the picture. Holy crap. A true to life picture of the goddess, Scarlett Johansson. I’m immediately considering making this my new desktop wallpaper. I'm expecting my inbox to provide me with something like this:



...my Inbox says "New Mail." Here it is...I open it...my pulse quickening...

...and I see the actual picture:



Oh…OBVIOUSLY.

No doubt here that I’m looking at Scarlett Johansson. How could it be anyone else?

What makes this all the more legitimate is the giant finger in front of the lens, giving it validity (i.e., like providing scale to a video of a UFO behind trees). You can almost see Scarlett’s pouting lips if you squint hard. Of course, you need to be in the CIA with advanced zoom and picture clarification equipment…but once you manage to equip yourself and run these scans, you really can tell it’s Ms. Johansson. Actually, instead of squinting you’re probably better off closing your eyes completely and just visualizing Scarlett. In my imagined image of her, there’s no giant finger...(okay…that’s a lie).

Personally, I’ve only brushed into greatness a couple of times. I’ve run into a few Boston sports legends (Manny Ramirez, Tim Wakefield, Ray Bourque (twice)), one sports announcer (Gary Thorne of ESPN in Dallas), and one supermodel.

The supermodel in question was Christie Brinkley.

A long time ago, when my wife and I were first dating, I took her to see Billy Joel in concert. At the time, Billy Joel was married to Christie Brinkley (how this marriage ever happened after I tried to intervene is beyond me).

Regardless, being the cheap bastard that I am, we had crappy seats. Our seats were floor level…but WAAAAY in the back…near the control panel. With both of us being just over five feet tall, we spent the entire concert up on our chairs. Unfortunately, so was everyone else, so we still couldn’t see shit.

Near the end of the concert, I happened to turn around. There, at the control panel, was Christie Brinkley. THE Christie Brinkley. MY Christie Brinkley. The very same Christie Brinkley who had adorned the space over my waterbed in poster form for years. The exact same Christie Brinkley responsible for my mother asking, “Son, do you have a cold? You’ve gone through an awful lot of tissues.”

I was dumbfounded…completely in awe. I spent the next fifteen minutes of the concert with my back to the stage…staring her down.

I’m not sure how my wife was reacting, because at this point I think I forgot she was there.

With Billy’s encore approaching, Christie started to move. I watched her step down from the control panel area, and start walking up the aisle. MY aisle. She was coming right towards me. Oh..my…God…here she comes….

And with my pheremones-a-flyin’, I lost control as she passed within two feet of me.

I screamed.

“CHRIIIISSSSTYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!”

I screamed her name SO LOUDLY that she actually jumped and put her hand to her heart. I scared her. I scared her enough that she almost had a heart attack. I somehow managed to yell so loudly that I not only drowned out the music of the concert, but I probably made her pee a little.

She looked at me, startled. Then she mouthed, “Hi” and waved at me. I felt dizzy.

I spun around, all proud of myself (she said “Hi” to ME!!) and looked at my wife.

Yep…she wasn’t amused. Actually, she looked kind of mad and a lot of embarrassed.

That was the night I met my “Uptown Girl.”

I also think it was the night that my wife tore apart my Christie Brinkley poster.