Thursday, 6 May 2021

Points in Case

Points in Case

Yes, I’m Cheating on You with the Ghost of My High School Boyfriend, But Hear Me Out

Posted: 05 May 2021 10:00 AM PDT

Edward! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago…

Ok. I have to tell you something. This isn't a "business trip" to Honolulu. I am seeing someone. And if you open the closet right now, you will find… a bad boy ghost with a very small hula skirt wrapped around itself.

Let me explain: Every year for the past seven years, on your birthday, I know I tell you that I am going to the tropics for business. But what I'm really doing is coming here to have a one-night stand with a crazed lunatic ghost.

Why? Oh, because your birthday is the day he died in a totally preventable motorcycle accident and the anniversary of that is the only day he can transpose back into the material world.

Oh, why am I having sex with a ghost? Listen… I love you so much, Edward, because you are a man of dignity, and you absolutely would refuse to do the horrible, disgusting, unforgivably vile things this incredibly sexy bad ghost does to me. And I am yours, 24/7/364. But there is a powerful part of me that needs, for just one night a year, some very specific, humiliating things from an outlaw rebel ghost who died in a high-speed drug-fueled motorcycle chase on this very island and yes, he's my ex-boyfriend from high school, oh my god, slow down!

What are you doing? He's not in the closet, Edward. You didn't see him, but he took your wallet two minutes ago, and he's probably at a luau, scoring MDMA.

Just hear me out. Ok. Thank you, honey. I thought you'd followed me to Waikiki to break up with me or something crazy. Yes, total honesty from here on out. I'll start: Yes, the ghost is the ghost of my ex-boyfriend, Bad Boy Trevor, who was a terror to my life and seems to have gotten worse as a ghost. He says he killed an angel, and I don't know if I believe him, but whatever's wrong with him, I can fix it.

And it's not like I'm making love to a real body. I'm basically masturbating to a memory, a memory that feels more real than anything we've ever done together.

But that's why I love you two differently. You're boring and pedestrian and alive. You are good with my mom and are stable and supportive. Ghost Trevor is really good at hacking into my bank accounts when I sleep and making me feel alive by holding a rusty knife to my throat.

And just know: I would never cheat on you with another ghost. Why? Well, because most ghosts don't die with a full-on raging erection. Except Elvis.

So what do you say, Edward? Can we make this work? Good. Because Ghost Trevor wants us to rob a grocery store, and we need three people.

List: Why Amazon’s New “Lord of the Rings” Show Is So Expensive

Posted: 05 May 2021 07:00 AM PDT

"Amazon's 'The Lord of the Rings' to Cost $465M for Just One Season"

—The Hollywood Reporter

Series is set in the impossibly posh, gentrifying Upper-earth.

Bulk of budget devoted to keeping Aragorn looking as wet as possible at all times.

Smeagol requires $1 million worth of daily B12 and iron supplements just to remain sentient.

The elves threatened to unionize, so Amazon fired them and replaced them with autonomous, silicon androids. Their eyes don't sparkle and they can only emit ear-splitting screeches, but they don't complain about working 22 hours a day.

All lembas bread is now organic, vegan, gluten-free, Fair Trade, and personally prepared by David Chang.

To save the design team several months of work, a Type A intern traversed the bowels of Mordor, captured the dragon Smaug, and delivered him to the goddamn studio lot. The intern was fired and has filed a lawsuit seeking millions in compensation for psychological distress and scorched khakis.

Cast and crew of hundreds are weirdly unwilling to work for "exposure."

Contract rider for Durin's Bane—the hulking, gargantuan demon who dragged Gandalf to the abyss—calls for the annexation of nearby Rangitoto Island, so he can rule a couple thousand people to relieve stress.

In lieu of hobbit holes, hobbits will live in overpriced, subterranean condos with sleek cryotherapy chambers that are colder than a Nazgul's faceless gaze.

Showrunners will commute back and forth from LA to New Zealand every day.

The exorbitant price of stilts, prosthetics, and silk wigs that allows Jeff Bezos to play Gandalf and shout, "You shall not pass a wealth tax!" in a totally innocuous cameo.

Had to special-order titanium-coated recording equipment that can withstand fires of Mount Doom, hotness of perpetually wet Aragorn.

It costs roughly $50 million to digitally remove the thousands of crow's feet from Saruman's face. The cost of removing the hundreds of literal crow's feet Saruman sneaks onto set and throws at assistants while they're on their phones, though, is more emotional.

Series will pay for itself after crazy merch sales generated by Baby Yoda knockoff, Baby Legolas.

A couple effects engineers got drunk one night and carved giant butts into the side of Mount Ngauruhoe, so producers had to orchestrate a scene in which a pair of Ents sit on the side of the mountain and accidentally leave imprints of their 1,000-year-old asses.

Shelob the giant spider insists on a cavernous trailer, some freshly webbed sound guys for lunch, and one Peloton for each of his eight legs.

Show's budget would actually be $850 million if not for the trolls being forced to work weekends as Amazon Prime delivery drivers, then donate their wages to the show.

Bezos brilliantly noticed that the word "Orc" rhymes with "dork" and thought it would be hilarious to adorn the Orcs with thick-rimmed glasses and pocket protectors. Amazon then had to spend an extra $300 million developing a second prequel series that explains how Orcs discovered optometry. Another example of Jeff being a practical boss with realistic expectations.

Buying the intellectual property rights to everyone's favorite Game of Thrones hero: King Bran.

Perpetually wet Aragorn has already caused several costly electrical fires. That's showbiz, baby!

I’m Your Unexpected Hangover and I’m Here to Ruin Your Day

Posted: 05 May 2021 05:00 AM PDT

Good morning, sunshine. You don't look so hot. What's the matter, are you… hungover? But I couldn't possibly be—What, hungover? Well, I've got news for you: I'm your unexpected hangover and I'm here to ruin your day.

But I didn't even get drunk. I only had two glasses of wine with dinner. Ah, ah, ah. Correction: you had two AND A HALF glasses of wine. It was that extra half which really titled the scales in my favor. This is what you reap for flying too close to the sun on wings of Shiraz.

Why is this happening? I've drank way more than what I drank last night and still not felt like this. Yes, you thought you were being so responsible. I mean, you were basically teetotalling. Two and a half glasses. That's nothing. Kids in Europe drink more than that with their school lunch.

I don't understand, I felt fine before bed. You no longer need to get intoxicated to feel my wrath. I even drank a full glass of water before going to sleep. That's precious. A full glass of water. You think that's enough to prevent me from showing up whenever I want, at your age?

You feel that sharp pain behind your eyes, spreading to your temples? It's headache time, sleepy face. Go ahead, stumble to the bathroom cupboard and reach for the painkillers. You might as well pop a placebo pill because I am impervious to modern medicine. I've been punishing people like you since the dawn of the fermented grape.

What, you thought you could let your hair down a little last night just because you'd made it through to Wednesday? "I can enjoy a couple glasses of wine," you thought. "I've earned it. Besides, it's not like I have to worry about getting a hangover." That's what makes this so special. I've been hiding in the proverbial bushes waiting to ambush your sorry, unsuspecting ass. Surprise!

Boy, I hope you've got a clear schedule today. Ugh, work. I've got work. And the kids have—Well, you better get your shit together. Speaking of shit, I hope you weren't planning on having a solid bowel movement this morning. Or anytime today. That gnawing, churning feeling in your stomach? That's also my handiwork. You're welcome.

Look at you, standing dazed in the kitchen. Go ahead and hide the bottle of wine from last night. It may be out of sight, but it's not out of mind. Just the thought of it brings up the hot, sour taste of bile.

Welcome to queasy street, party animal. Are you using the deep breathing technique from your yoga class? I'm impressed. I'll even give you a moment of respite. Enjoy it while it lasts because that nausea is coming in unrelenting waves, baby.

Thinking of eating something? Here's the catch 22: you need food to feel better, but the thought of eating anything makes you feel sick. You're in a bit of a quandary, my forlorn friend.

You seem sluggish. That's right, you would have had a coffee by now. Don't feel up to having it, a tad too acidic for your sensitive tummy? I hope you've got some peppermint tea handy because that's the only thing you'll be able to stomach.

Sending one of your children on an errand to buy you a Gatorade? There aren't enough electrolytes in the entire world to help you. And I know something that you don't: the store is all out of the blue flavor, sucker!

Googling hangover cures, huh? I love it when people do that. Ooh, that one sounds good. A raw egg with Tabasco sauce. Try that one. Do it, please. There's no way that could horribly backfire.

You're even contemplating that old "hair of the dog" wives' tale, aren't you? This isn't your college days, sweet cheeks. Be my guest, fan my flames. I dare you. I double-fucking dare you.

Is that a fart or is something more sinister brewing and hoping to surreptitiously slip out? You can't even trust your own body right now. I'm the Wizard of Oz pulling the levers behind the curtain of your bodily functions.

Go ahead, take a shower. Hot, cold, it doesn't matter. Either way, you'll be cowering naked, rethinking your whole life, and wondering when this will end. Spoiler alert! Not until you've put in a full day's work and I've run you ragged.

It can't get much worse, right? Look at it this way, you've only been up for half an hour and I'm just getting started. You've got a long day ahead of you, Sisyphus. On the bright side, you still have half a bottle of wine you can use to unwind once this is all over. Now there's an idea I can raise my glass to. Cheers!
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