Naturally Juicy
or
Yet Another Reason Why I'd Rather Live In Europe.

I'm usually not much for "Furries," but there is something about Orangina's latest ad campaign that I really dig. It's sexy. It's downright scintillating.

Why can't we have attractive, original advertising like this in the USA?

Oh yeah. Because we're a nation of prudes. We wouldn't "get" it. Orangina's sales would plummet because the American people can't handle a visually stunning stylistic comment on the animal nature of human sexuality that also subtly lampoons modern advertising tropes. Too deep for 'em.

Thank god for the French.

This first one - for Orangina Red - is my absolute favorite. It's also the most inaccessible for an American audience:




I think I'm in love with that black panther Domina.

This commercial is brilliant. Everything from the voice acting to the expression on the pudgy businessman's face is spot on. *Cough, not that I know anything about BDSM, cough* It's funny. It's entirely memorable, with viral video potential, and the viewer remembers the product with ease. Fantastic work.



This next one is the first ad I ever saw from this particular campaign. It's made its rounds on the internet pretty thoroughly, but it deserves a re-post, for being so beautifully done. It's a joy to watch.



I love the details in the animation. The deer woman's ears prick up and wiggle with emotion. When the chameleon man kisses the flower woman, excitement causes his skin to suddenly pulse with every color of the rainbow. The lighting throughout is natural, warm, and radiant. The ad is gorgeous to look at, perfectly scripted, and full of vibrant, sexy energy. A real winner in my book.



Next, a series of ad spots under 15 seconds. I love the way that they poke fun at common themes in advertising. So meta, I just want to kiss whoever came up with them!



In just 3 days, Orangina will clear up your skin! No artificial colors or flavors!





Active bears don't always have time to shower. That's why he uses Orangina!




This one speaks for itself. Also: It's so damned refreshing to see gay men acknowledged in everyday advertising. Fuck you, America.





Orangina is her secret for silky, shiny hair.


I want to applaud the firm that came up with this campaign: Fred & Farid. Yeah, their blog is in French. I apologize to the non-francophones among us. Use Google Translate or something.

Hope you guys enjoyed. I encourage you, gentle readers, to comment.

Two Fowl For My Kitchen
or
Cornish Cornhole

Behold: HUMANS! the animal kingdom's most voracious apex predator. We kill stuff! We eat it. It's what we were born to do. Whether a creature creeps, slithers, gallops, swims, flies, or squirms, it doesn't matter. It's a potential dinner. Hell, we even like to eat each other.

This is what separates man from beast.

Thanksgiving is the perfect holiday to celebrate Man's triumph over the natural world. And there's no better way to honor our place at the top of the food chain than by indulging in our greatest culinary achievement - animals stuffed inside other animals.

Ever since I found out about Turducken, I've been obsessed with the concept. Apparently I'm not the only one. Multi-bird roasts are becoming more popular every year. This chef went as far as to create a twelve-specie bird roast based on recipes from Medieval times. It feeds 125 people and takes 8 hours to cook, once assembled. You go, dude.

Since I didn't have any other plans for Thanksgiving this year, I thought I'd attempt to follow suit.

I'd never roasted a turkey before, but if millions of Valium-addled housewives can do it every year, so can I.

I'm a bit too much of a novice for 12 birds. At Greg's insistence, we settled on two: A 12 pound turkey, and a 1.5 pound Cornish game hen.

Preparation took about two hours. Greg was good enough to document our poultry adventure step by step. Here's what we did:

First, I cut the skin down the center, and peeled it back off the breast, legs, and thighs. Then,
I made many small incisions in the meat, and filled them with slivers of garlic and green onion.

I put a mixture of rosemary, sage, basil, salt, and pepper on the meat under

the skin, and crammed fresh cilantro leaves throughout.

The Cornish hen received a mushroom, a lime, and some onion up its butt,
and went in the oven for pre-roasting.

Here I am rubbing the outside of the turkey with herbed butter.

I packed over a pound of mushrooms and a pound of sliced onions
in around the meat, under the turkey's skin.

I'm giving the partially roasted hen a good-luck kiss before shoving it up the turkey's fundament.

In it goes!

Greg came up with the idea of closing the skin using toothpicks. Our bird(s) had punk rock appeal.

In the oven, ready to go!

Partially done. Time for a good basting . . .

Finished bird!

The hen is so tender, we can't remove it from the turkey without dismantling it.

Staring into the meat-womb, from which the hen was birthed.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Oh, and may I say that this turkey was the most exceptional Thanksgiving feast I have ever had in my life. The garlic and herbs permeated the turkey to the very bone. With all the veggies releasing their juices inside the skin, Even the breast meat was moist and flavorful. Greg and I each had a turkey drumstick and a game hen leg. The game hen had its own flavor. The meat was so soft, it was like butter. It melted off the bone with the lightest touch. Tender. Complex. A symphony of roast poultry, herbs, onions, and butter. We ate the mushrooms and onions as a side dish. It was so good, I felt drugged afterward.

There simply aren't enough words to describe it. Next year, I'm dong at least 5 birds one inside the other.

P.S. Greg came up with the titles. He just . . . wow. I am jealous I didn't think of "Cornish Cornhole" first.

Memoirs of a Robogeisha
or
Rectal Exsanguination

B-movies, gentle reader, make life worth living. There is no room for debate on the subject. If you don't agree with me, then I have no idea why you're still reading my blog.

The latest installment in Judas Phoenix Science Theater 3000 is a tale of sibling rivalry, the search for self-identity in a post-humanist cyborgian world, traditional Japanese arts, and mindless slaughter - all topped off with a heaping, gooey dose of sexploitation. Thanks to director Noboru Iguchi, I can satisfy every aspect of my "so-bad-it's-good" movie craving in one straight shot to the lizard brain.

Writing a general summary is boring, so if you really care about the general "plot" of this glorious piece of trash, feel free to read this paragraph stolen from IMDB:
Yoshie, the younger and ill-treated sister of a renowned Geisha, is discovered to have natural strength and fighting ability. She's recruited into an army of Geisha assassins by the rich and powerful owner of a steel-works, Kageno. During training large (and interesting) parts of their bodies are altered into weaponry directly linked to their brains. Yoshie soon realizes that Kagenos real plan is to have his robotic castle throw a new and very powerful nuclear bomb into the centre of Fuji-san, effectively destroying Japan entirely. With the help of other 'Kageno defectors', she sets out to stop him and his Tengu warriors.

Sounds pretty dry, no? In all truth, I'm impressed that anyone could make Robogeisha sound so coherent.

But we don't watch these things for riveting story lines, do we, gentle readers? No! Never, I say! We watch them because they're hilarious. We watch them for the shitty special effects, pulpy dialogue, and tits 'n ass. We watch them because they don't take themselves seriously.

Without further ado, I present some screenshots for your enjoyment:


Here's the Tengu warriors terrorizing a Japanese businessman:

I suppose that explains the angry, red dick-noses.

Those dick-tits aren't just for show. They mean business.

Defacing a nurse. Just because.

Our heroine prepares to strike at her sister.

Or maybe the sister is about to take a smack at our Heroine? They look so much alike, I couldn't tell for most of the movie who was who. WHAT? I'm not being racist. It's the pancake geishaface makeup. Geeze.

Ah, sibling rivalry. Big Sis gets a boob-gun . . .

Behold, the birth of a new fetish. A nation wanks . . . uh weeps. Weeps.

. . . so Little Sis has to get arm-pit swords . . .

Her pits shave themselves.

. . . and then Big Sis gets her head rewired . . .

I smell turquoise in here. 'Scuse me Mr. Nice Man, have you seen my mommy?
OH GOD, I CAN'T REMEMBER MY DOG'S NAAAAAAAAME!

. . . which means Little Sis has to turn into a tank . . .

No shit!

. . . everybody decides to get buttswords . . .

I'm going to invest in buttsword futures now, before buttfencing
becomes the national sport of Japan.

A schoolgirl also gets a sword in the butt. Not quite the same thing.

. . . asshurikens . . .



. . . and you know what they say: it's all fun and games, until someone gets a shrimp in the eye.


I know what you're thinking. Where's the guy in a monster suit, lumbering around a pint-sized mock-up of Tokyo? Here you go. A castle robot. This is a new one for me, too, and that's saying something.

Japanese skyscrapers have circulatory systems. No wonder their manufacturing
industry surpasses ours. BUY AMERICAN BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Looks like a lot of fun, huh?

I give it an 8/10 for the genre. Go see Robogeisha. It's Japanese - so you know it's good!

My Best Asset?
or
I'm Famous . . . On The Internet

Back in my early 20's I performed in a video for a website called Tonguefetish.net. I was paid 50 bucks for my trouble, and I promptly forgot about it.

Five years later, a friend told me that my video was on Reddit, and people were going nuts over it. She sent me the link, and sure enough, it was there, though not in its original form. Someone had taken the time to make a moving .gif from the video clip, and THAT is what people were commenting on.

I read through all the comments, basking in the positive attention (especially the Franka Potente and Leeloo references). Towards the bottom of the page, I noticed that someone had posted a youtube link. With trepidation, I clicked it. Someone had posted my video clip on youtube about a year ago. Since then, it has gotten over 106,000 views. What. The. Fuck. That's over 300 views EVERY SINGLE DAY SINCE IT WAS POSTED.

I have to say, I'm rather flattered.

The thing is, what do I do from here? Should I make my own tongue website? There has to be a way to profit from this.

Anyone have any ideas?

Burles-que'st que c'est?
or
My Big Debut

Great news, gentle readers! I will be starring in a burlesque show on August 12 at Daddy Mac's! Look, I'm even on the flier! (Albeit, with my old platinum hair. But never mind that.)



I'm soooooo excited. I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get my acts ready. I'm going to fill two numbers. The first will be a classic burlesque dance to "Stray Cat Strut" by the Stray Cats. Bet you can't guess what I'll be dressed as. Meow.

The second act is a bit more modern. I'm going to turn myself into a human ice cream sundae. It's going to be super sexy, and a hell of a mess. I need to buy a tarp for the stage . . . As for music, I shall dance to "Ice Cream" by New Young Pony Club.

What a wonderful opportunity this is! I've wanted to do burlesque for ages, and now I finally have my chance! It's so classic. So retrosexual.

No, it's not nude. It's pasties and full back underwear. Don't look at me like that.

Wish me luck! Anyone with burlesque experience is more than welcome to add some tips in the comments. I would appreciate it.

Meathead
or
A Few of My Favorite Things

Shut up, raw vegan foodies. Just shut the fuck up. I am so sick of your religious fervor for the meatless "lifestyle."

Look at my incisors. They were made for ripping flesh off the bone. I am an omnivore by design, and a carnivore in my heart of hearts. Therefore, meat is my divine right.

Vegetarianism is stupid. Veganism is even worse. Plants have their place, but nothing beats the taste of blood. Give me a steak, lightly seared, so the inside is still cool and purple. I want to feel the texture of the muscle. That's food for life, right there, protein and vitamins and the unmatched satiety that comes from knowing: "Yes, I am at the top of the food chain! I am Human, destroyer of cows!"

Give me the roasted femur of some flightless fowl, and I'll gnaw it like a starved cavewoman. Look at that, the bone fits right in my sticky little hand. Fuck tofu, this shit is portable.

Hey PETA, you see a "sea kitten," and I sea food. Gut that gorgeous little bastard! Filet 'im while he's still gasping for air. Don't bother with the pots and pans. Just give him to me sushi style so I can rub wasabi into his squirming flesh and pick at him sliver by sliver like a finicky cat.

It is my goal in life to eat as many different kinds of animal as I possibly can before I die. I want to eat a fucking zoo. Hell, if it weren't illegal, and I weren't afraid of prion disease, I'd probably eat a human, too.

Is it wrong that I get a little turned on by the taste of blood?

Tiger, Tiger
or
Yet Another Reason To Live In Chicago

I can't take credit for originally digging this video up. Thank Fark for that. However, this lady is the hottest mess I have seen in my short little life. I give you Miss Cheetah:



She's a really special brand of crazy - the kind that gives me a stiffy out of sheer terror. If I lived in Chicago, I would let her into my house and give her a bigass kitty-bed in my room. We'd eat Chinese food and drink the occasional "nice glass of wine" out of empty zebra skulls by the light of the savanna moon. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeowwww! She could even bring her "baby," Frida, the blue shorthair. I don't care that she's a single mom. I've got two kitties of my own, so she can just bring her fine ass over here, and we'll make ourselves a feline Brady Bunch.

Tell you what, though: I am NOT scooping her box. That's Alice's job.