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Maxim Strays From Journalistic Excellence?

Monday, February 25th, 2008

The Black Crowes are furious with Maxim magazine. No, Maxim didn’t spill bong water all over the Crowes’ stash. It’s far worse: Maxim panned the new Black Crowes album without even listening to it.

The review, published in Maxim’s March issue, gives the Crowes’ ”Warpaint” a rating of two-and-a-half stars out of five.

”The writer - who has not heard the album since advance CDs were not made available - wrote what appears to be a disparaging assessment anyway, citing, ‘it hasn’t left Chris Robinson and the gang much room for growth.”’

Sure, it’s easy to criticize Maxim and their lack of journalistic integrity, but I’m willing to bet everything I have they’re right. The new Black Crowes album will suck as sure as you can get a contact high from touching Chris Robinson’s beard.

Here are some other fearless predictions requiring no further validating information:

  • American Idol winners will continue to have short-lived careers based entirely on records sales to 14 year old girls.
  • Scott Weilland of STP with OD ASAP
  • Lennon Murphy will be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame for penning I Am The Walrus.
  • Movies made using the lyrics to random Bealtes songs as 85% of the script’s dialog will suck.
  • One day Clay Aiken and Lance Bass will share an awkward elevator ride consisting of Lance continually checking his watch in pantomime, tugging on an imaginary long white beard and coughing “come out already” under this breath.
  • Eventually, everyone in creation —even die-hard Metallica fans— will come to the realization that the boys may have made some great Metal, but they’re a bunch of whiny, insufferable pricks.
  • It’s only a matter of time before I write another post alienating most of my friends.
Check out some more Gladstone over HERE. And his latest YouTube video HERE.

Posted in Beards, Beatles Movies That Piss Me Off, Maxim, Music, Too Self-Referential | 19 Comments »

I’m Sick of These Damn Ingrate Nobel Laureates

Monday, October 15th, 2007

The Nobel Prizes were announced last week, and instead of downing flutes of Champaign, putting on their “I won the f@#$ing Nobel Prize” t-shirts and going clubbing like they should have done, the winners almost unanimously responded by being ungrateful, whiny pissants.

First off, Doris Lessing, who won the Prize in Literature for her work “subjecting a divided civilization to scrutiny.” And how did she respond when reporters made her aware of that fact? No, not by flashing her ponderous, seventy-year-old boobs and shouting “Powned!” as one would expect, but by bitching that she hadn’t gotten it sooner:

“Look I have won all the prizes in Europe, every bloody one. I’m delighted to win them all, okay?” she responded testily.

As an afterthought she turned around and mumbled:

“It’s a royal flush.”

Oh, is it, you entitled wench? Because unless my research is sorely mistaken, you haven’t won the World Beard and Mustache Championship, held biennially throughout Europe. You know how I know? Because THIS guy won it:

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And I bet he didn’t shove it back in the committee’s faces either. I’ll bet he had bikini models doing shots out of those little beard-wells within fifteen minutes of winning. So accept the prize graciously and go get a vanity plate.

Even Al Gore acted like a pussy on game night. Instead of doing a touchdown dance at the podium and pumping his fist in celebration, he accepted the award “on behalf of all the people that have been working so long and so hard to try to get the message out about this planetary emergency.”

Do you know how many freakin’ people that is? According to his own website, millions of people have signed the pledge to fight Climate Change. Millions? The Nobel Prize is $1.5 million. Throw in the price of the medal itself (about ten bucks on Ebay) and divide by two million, and you’ve got jack shit. The question isn’t whether Gore’s going to run for President; it’s whether he’d abdicate immediately upon being elected.

Whatever happened to a sense of celebration? After all, it’s what gives the award its meaning in the first place. The reason it feels great to win something is because so many people had to NOT win it in order for YOU to win. I’m all for false modesty, but come on: when you get handed a Nobel Prize, it’s time to take a victory strut.

Thinking about it makes me so angry, the only thing that can calm me down are some more pictures from the gallery of Beard and Mustache Champions.

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Posted in Al Gore, Beards, Nobel Prize | 9 Comments »