Bits: ‘Eclipse: The lost chapter’

After a passionate night of not lovemaking, Bella rolled over and pretended to sleep. Fully clothed. Her loins throbbed like a round Bud Light blinky button worn at a sports bar. Somehow she had landed the biggest prude at Forks High, and was so frustrated she didn’t even acknowledge Edward as he stole away to perform his nightly ritual: The Cure’s “Disintegration” on his iPod, and a very long, very intense full-body self-massage with Victoria’s Secret Limited Edition Body Twirl Shimmer Lotion.

Once she was sure he was fully immersed in “Pictures of You,” she crept out of the Cullens’ mansion and into the night, blue balled and alone. Bella knew she wanted to shed her clunky V-card. And she knew her soul mate was too busy bowing at the temple of Morrissey-style asexuality to give her the beans. But across town and through the woods in La Push, she sensed her bestie beastie Jacob could make her drool, pant, and eventually howl. It was a risk, certainly. Edward would be able to smell him on her when she returned, the Purina breath captured in her boyish tresses. She couldn’t worry about that now: She was hungry for the wolf.

Bella found Jacob in the garage, working on a dirt bike with an Abdominzer Belt cinched at his waist.

“Jake,” she sighed. A certain breathlessness she had learned from Neve Campbell after she rented Season 1 of “Party of Five” from Netflix.

“Quiet, Bella,” he said. Humor crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “I’m about 30 jiggles from unearthing another ab muscle. Then I’ll have a complete set.”

“Edward will always have my heart,” she said into the morning mist. “But Jacob will always have my right shin.”

“There,” he said. “Now. What brings you to La Push? How did you shake the bloodsucker?”

Bella sighed theatrically. She shuffled her Converse low tops. She looked up at her friend with doe eyes.

“I need a favor,” she said, unzipping her navy blue hoodie.
“A big one,” she added, yanking down her Gap Boyfriend jeans.
“A hard one,” she said, finally pulling her University of Alaska Anchorage T-shirt over her head.
“A live one who won’t leave a trail of glitter on my cleavage,” she stammered, slipping out of her boxer shorts.

“Oh, Bella,” he growled, still a man. A man two years younger than her and 93 years younger than her beloved. He moved toward her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

At the gesture, Jacob threw his head back. His skin rippled and bucked as he spontaneously grew a coat of brown fur. His hands and feet rounded into paws. His snout erupted from his face, his tail went erect. His ears twitched. It didn’t matter to Bella which form of Jacob took her, it only mattered that he took her. She could see her friend in the animals brown eyes, and in the glistening canines, wet with saliva.

He moved toward her on all fours. Walked a circle around her, then nuzzled at her begging to be pet. At her touch, he grew bolder. Jacob was about to feel something he’d previously only experienced with stuffed animals. And once he’d done some experimental sniffing with the pack’s leader Sam. He nudged Bella down, onto the floor. He straddled her shin, then lowered himself. He shook up and down, humping her leg victoriously. Finally, he yelped. Finally.

Bella let herself out of the garage as the sun came up. She’d kicked herself free of Jacob, who had fallen asleep at her feet. “I’m still a virgin,” she thought to herself. “But sometimes when you need a favor, it’s just as satisfying to do a favor for someone else.”

Originally posted July 22, 2010 at Schadenfreude.

Bits: Whatever happened to …

Ever wonder what ever happened to Teddy Duchamp, the luckless, one-eared wonder who, together with his three emaciated friends, set the precedent for modern-day bromances when they scoured the landscape for Ray Bower’s mutilated body in “Stand By Me”?


Turns out he became the sort of hipster-approved pop culture-ist who can write an entire essay that, like, compares Britney Spears to KFC’s Double Down.

Originally posted July 9, 2010 at Schadenfreude.

Bits: Full body apparition edition

Zak Bagans didn’t believe in ghosts until he saw one. Now he is part of a Three-Amigos-meets-Megadeth-roadies posse of men who hunt them on the Travel Channel’s situation comedy X-treme reality show “Ghost Adventures.” Bagans & Co. aren’t pussies like those affable wimps on “Ghost Hunters Interntional,” who try to lure apparitions with quaint British accents and 1970s transistor radio technology. Bagans taunts the ghosts, asks to be pushed down flights of steps or slapped in the face. “If this is the gates of hell, why don’t you come out and get me!” the hero growls.

(Show us on the doll where the shadow man touched you, Zak.)

Is Bagans hot? His skin bulges with muscles, like badly whipped mashed potatoes. His tight black T’shirts reveal paranormal-activity-induced temperature drops with pinpoint accuracy. He speaks in a Keanu Reeves tenor. He has the wingspan of a Wyvern. His baggy black jeans, and that chain that connects to his wallet say: “I don’t skateboard. But I know some people who do, and sometimes I hang out with them. Behind the Pump ‘n’ Munch.”

There is no doubt that Bagans is a badass. He pushes the limits. “Don’t taunt the voodoo,” his friends had to remind him when he got verbally abusive with the air an empty room in New Orleans. One time he was possessed by an old woman. It was like his entire face was in drag.

Originally posted on July 20, 2009 on Schadenfreude.

Bits: ‘I was Michael Cera first’

**BREAKING**
The Supreme Court of New York has ruled in favor of a disheveled and geeky young actor wearing an ironic T under a hoodie, who claims “I was Michael Cera first.”

Jesse Eisenberg, 25, star of the film “Adventureland,” displayed his signature bad posture and said something witty without any inflection when the verdict was read. A handful of pregnant teen-aged girls sporting pony tails and Converse low tops rolled their eyes with delight in the back of the court room.

Eisenberg asked the court to recognize that in the 2005 film “Cursed,” he played a bumbling nerd with touseled tresses who, after being attacked by a werewolf, develops self-confidence, a wrestling prowess, and hair product. When the title curse is lifted, he goes back to being a lanky loser — but gets the girl.

“Then Michael Cera comes along, and is in a few slightly more successful movies playing basically me,” Eisenberg stammered for a small audience on the steps of the courthouse. “Michael Cera, Michael Cera … Everybody loves Michael Cera. Say the name Jesse Eisenberg and people are like, ‘Is he that weird guy in our chemistry class?’”

Eisenberg noted that he had long been a fan of the Smiths — and also some obscure indie bands “Michael Cera has never even heard of” — plays acoustic guitar, and regularly carries a backpack.

Cera did not respond to dozens of  calls made from a hamburger-shaped phone.

Originally posted on August 24, 2009, on Schadenfreude.

Bits: Now with 100 percent more mime

Season 6 of Nip/Tuck premiered on FX on Wednesday night, offering a not-so surprising plot direction for the character Matt McNamara, the Michael Jacksonest animal, mineral, or vegetable still on this planet, expelling breath. No kidding. John Carter Hensley, who plays Matt McNamara, looks more like MJ than both MJ and Diana Ross combined.

The son of both Dr. Sean McNamara and Dr. Christian Troy — a long story that would require a chalkboard and possibly a Kimber blow-up doll — announced to his two dads:

“I want to be a mime.”

Of course he wants to be a mime. That’s the natural progression for a character who:

1. Performed his own home circumcision;
2. Learned threesomes before learning twosomes;
3. Fell in love with his life coach, a beautiful post-op transsexual, whose secret was revealed when one of Matt’s fathers raped her. (What? She had a shallow cave. And if anyone knows anything about caves, it’s Dr. Christian Troy, resident … um … spelunker).
4. Joined a band of neo-Nazis after he was beaten and bathed in urine by a vicious crew of transsexuals who were retaliating against a hate crime Matt committed in the aftermath of realizing the woman he loved was a post-op transsexual.
5. Had a little brother who was born with hands shaped like lobster claws.
6. Fell in love with the porn star Kimber Henry, whom both of his dads have also fallen in love with — Dr. Christian Troy more seriously than Dr. Sean McNamara, who mostly  just tried to plant his seed in the extremely lifelike aforementioned Kimber Blow Up Doll.
7. Impregnated Kimber, got hooked on meth with Kimber, and eventually lost Kimber to one of the Duke brothers, the blond one, who plays a veteran porn star — a role for which he has to stretch about as much as his sausage casing-like Levi’s.
8. Graduated from high school.
9. Fell for a Southern Belle, who came to Los Angeles looking for her birth father. It wasn’t exactly incest until they found out that Dr. Christian Troy is her father, too. Right?!

So, mime school is the next obvious step in Matt McNamara’s highly-predictable life. He’s already been able to silently order a small coffee and knock over a mom and pop cafe, using a gun that shoots bouquets of flowers.

Has anyone else ever noticed that this is the best thing on TV?

Originally posted on October 16, 2009 on Schadenfreude.

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