Azn Badger's Blog

What About the Lysine Contingency…?

Unfortunate Animal Names: Blue Tit


Before anyone asks, yes; I am familiar with the Booby.

For those that are unaware, the Booby is a goofy looking seabird known for it’s equally goofy behavior.

The way I see it, any bird that is known to randomly break into dancing fits when horny, and has a bad habit of being easier to catch and kill than a Dodo; deserves the name Booby.

Pictured: A Dumb-Looking Bird That Was Actually Dumber Than It Looked.

I think it goes without saying, being called a boob is not a term of endearment.

That being said, our unfortunately named animal of the day is the diminutive little birdy called the Blue Tit.

Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear the name “Blue Tit,” the first thing that comes to mind is of course… Tom Sizemore.

That's not a loving embrace... That's a one-armed chokehold.

I know it’s seriously un-PC of me to say it, but when it comes to imagery of bruised boobies and/or domestic abuse, I can’t help but picture Tom Sizemore being… Well, Tom Sizemore.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually happen to like the man’s acting, but the man has a reputation for treating women the way his Sgt. Horvath character handled the Nazis in Saving Private Ryan.

To be fair, there are worse names than the Blue Tit in the animal kingdom; but in my eyes, any bird that is forced to be associated with the greasy, volatile bastard that is Tom Sizemore; has it’s work cut out for it when it comes to finding a fan base.

I fuckin’ hate birds…

Filed under: Movies, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Unfortunate Animal Names: Chiff Chaff Warbler

The animal kingdom has a lot of unfortunately named animals in it, and today we’re gonna’ take a minute to single out and harp on one of said poor unfortunate souls.

That being said, today we’re going to be talking shit about the tiny and, one would think; defenseless little birdy that our scientists decided to name the Chiff Chaff Warbler.

Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear the name “warbler,” I can’t help but think of a cartoonishly fat and decidedly ponderous creature along the lines of Wimpy from Popeye.

I suppose it goes without saying that “warble” brings to mind gross (read: MANLY) things like belching, or gargling… Or belching while gargling.

Pictured: What happens when stupid bitches try to belch and gargle at the same time.

Something about the rotund and guttural nature of the word “warble” just sets my mind thinking to all things chubby and pathetic.

As for the “chiff chaff” part of things, I don’t know what the fuck it’s supposed to mean, but it sounds like one of those old-timey phrases that old men with Dublin mustaches and monocles would say.

Y’know, things like:

Riff raff, haberdashery, poppycock, Toffifay, etc.

The kind of words one would say while swishing their mustache, and exclaiming whatsits like “I say!” or “…my good man.”

In conclusion, the Chiff Chaff Warbler is a chubby, pathetic bird that wears a monocle and belches loudly and often.

Happy Father’s Day everyone!

Pictured: Not me, but still pretty fuckin' funny.

Filed under: Comics, , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Top 10 Best Overkills in Movies, #9: The Lost World

*Sorry folks, no clip this time.  After all, it is a Spielberg…*

Let it be known, The Lost World is just about the most outright savage example of “Spielbergian Spite Killing” in practice.

For the uninitiated, “Spielbergian Spite Killing” refers to the indisputable fact that anyone who is an asshole, or is at all deserving of comeupance in any way shape or form, will; at some point in the movie, FUCKING DIE FOR IT.

You are guys are SO dead...

For instance, in The Lost World alone we have:

A man doesn’t hear his friend’s cries for help on account of him listening to a Walkman.

Carter: A man all about his music...

Guess what?

HE FUCKIN’ DIED FOR IT.

Adios Carter...

Then, we have a weasely Brit that’s guilty of… Well, being a weasely Brit.

Oh yeah, and talkin' shit to Jeff Goldblum...

Guess what?

HE FUCKIN’ DIED FOR IT.

The Lost World used Baby T-Rex! It's Super-Effective!

Which brings us to Dieter Stark, played by resident creepy-as-fuck Swede, Peter Stormare.

Pictured: The kinder, gentler Stormare...

Dieter Stark seemingly makes it a point to be a douche in every scene he’s in.

Let’s review:

The first time we see Dieter, he’s riding around in a jeep and mishears Peter Postlethwaite, thusly resulting in him asking Postlethwaite to repeat himself.

No self-respecting MAN asks Peter Postlethwaite to repeat himself.

I would NOT fuck with this man. No, sir...

That’s strike 1.

Shortly thereafter, Dieter is seen examining a Composognathus with the InGen group’s resident paleontologist.

This dude. Oh yeah, he dies too; but for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON.

After the creature is declared, quote: “not dangerous,” Dieter promptly whips out his trusty cattleprod, (never leave home without it) and zaps the little fucker seemingly just for the sake of seeing it squirm.

Hot chili!

That’s strike 2.

Finally, in one of Dieter’s last scenes in the movie, he is seen pacing around in the background while giving Vince Vaughn the goddamn stinkiest of stink-eyes.

Although, one could argue that Peter Stormare was born with a case of permanent, unintentional stink eye...

This of course results in a brief shoving match between the 2, which for all intents and purposes, Dieter loses, ’cause c’mon:

It’s fuckin’ Vince Vaughn.

No self-respecting MAN starts shit with Vince Vaughn and lives to tell the tale.

And that makes a big-fuckin’ strike 3.

Which brings us to the #9 Best Overkill in our Top 10 list of Best Overills in Movies:

Not long after his littler scuffle with Vince Vaughn, Dieter separates himself from the mercenaries/Team Goldblum in order to go relieve himself in the woods.

Upon leaving, he tells his buddy Carter to wait up for him, only for the camera angle to zoom-in and reveal, *GASP!* Carter couldn’t hear him on account of his wicked awesome Walkman!

BUM, BUM, BUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!

In a film where there are crazy fuckin’ dinosaurs boppin’ around in the wilderness, and your character has; up to this point, been a total prick, you can pretty much guarantee that somethin’ bad’s gonna’ happen when you wander off on your own.

Sure enough, just before ‘ole Dieter can whip it out, he hears some chirping in the bushes, which upon further investigation; reveals the source to be:

A MOTHERFUCKIN' JUMP SCARE!!!! RAWWRRRRRR!!!!

Turns out, one of those Compsognathus’ found his ass out in the woods and decided to scare the piss out of him, seemingly just for kicks.

Dieter being the kind soul that he, exchanges a bit of silly banter with the Compy, and promptly whips out his retractable cattleprod and proceeds to do what he can to introduce the little guy to the wonders of electricity.

Despite his best effort, Dieter misses the little fucker.

Now, after all this excitement, Dieter discovers that not only has he forgotten that he needed to pee, but he also doesn’t know how to get back to Team Goldblum.

Just how fuckin’ shy can this guy’s kidneys be that he needs to run 3 fuckin’ miles into the wilderness to take a piss!?

I don’t know, maybe he was one of those fat kids that had body image security issues and swam with his shirt on or some shit…

Yup, one of these.

ANYWAY, Dieter starts meandering through the woods repeatedly calling out:

Cut back to Carter, listening to 99.3 FM, La Grande:

"I'm just gonna' get stepped on by the T-Rex later, so who gives a fuck?"

After quite literally getting turned around in there, Dieter unfortunately takes a bad step in the woods and falls ass over teakettle down into a creek bed ravine.

Ow.

Collapsed on the ground, and in a great deal of pain, Dieter once again hears that familiar chirping and finds himself  set upon by a bevy of fearsome first-person camera shots!

Thusly begins our overkill.

Composognathus’ start piling in from out of the woodwork, mounting Dieter like a little bitch and busting out some serious ground and pound.

"He's goin' for the Kimura!"

These tenacious little fuckers manage to cover every inch of poor Dieter, biting and clawing at him, and generally putting a cap on one very bad day out in the woods.

Seriously, they get on his neck:

On his arms:

And at one point they even take a chunk outta’ his lips:

As he struggles to pry free from the clutches of these little green fuckers, Dieter of course falls back on calling to his one savior, his one beacon of hope: Carter.

We all know how well that works out.

With that, the Compys randomly decide to detach themselves from Dieter, in concert; mind you, leading to a downright cruel sequence wherein the entire swarm of them line up and basically taunt poor Dieter.

Oh, you smug little fucks...

This angers the mighty Swede, thusly causing him to chase them off with a combination of manly primal screams and equally manly rock throwing.

While silly looking, these tactics prove effective enough to by Dieter enough time to do some Home Alone Joe Pesci swearing, (“Regit, frigit, midgit, son of a…”) and actually try something practical; I.E. calling for Peter Postlethwaite instead of that sack of fail Carter.

"You called ME out here to save you from some little green chickens? Fucking pussy..."

Unfortunately, Postlethwaite is off doing something badass, like killing a fuckin’ T-Rex with his bare hands or some shit, so he doesn’t exactly hear Mr. Dieter.
In his defense, whatever Peter Postlethwaite was doing, I’m pretty sure it was more important than saving the fuckin’ Swede from the Frogger episode of Seinfeld.

Anyway, we then cut back to Dieter, who is now growing desperate, and has regularly begun chucking rocks at the creepy first-person tracking shot that just won’t seem to leave him alone.

"Get that camera away from me, Spielberg! I didn't sign on for this shit!"

Of course, with all that hazardous backwards walking in the creek, Dieter eventually trips over a rock and falls flat on his face.

Then, something silly happens.

Despite his wounds, despite the horde of nasty little fuckers trying to EAT HIS FLESH, Dieter takes a moment, while laying the creek; to GET A DRINK OF FUCKIN’ WATER!


WHAT THE FUCK!!??

Seriously, man!?

Priorities, dude:  Get ’em in order…

Otherwise this happens:

"Well, hello there stranger!"

Anyway, this MASSIVE fuck up on Dieter’s part costs him dearly, in that the Compys finally catch up to him and put his ass in some sort of Steiner Recliner/Figure-4 hybrid:

Compy Recliner.

Figure-4 Compy-Lock.

Despite (literally) tearing this sad sack pile of Swedish fuck-sauce’s ass to ribbons, Dieter somehow manages to haul himself up out of the creek, and make a run for a downed tree.

That proves to be his final mistake.

As he reaches the tree, Dieter gives one final look back at his pursuers, as if to say:

"Well, I gave it a shot, but I think I'm pretty much fucked here..."

And then proceeds to weakly roll over the log, essentially sealing his fate as the Compys follow his ass all the way down:

Yup, given enough time, they'd probably kill yah'.

With that, being as this a PG-13 film, we are treated to a tasteful closing shot of our overkill involving no graphic violence, but rather a great deal of implied nastiness in the form of George Lucas backed sound editing, and a fair amount of blood streaming through the creek bed.

"What is it?" "Blood! I hope this is not Chris' blood!"

All that carnage and nastiness, resulting in the 9th best Overkill in Movies, from a tiny dinosaur that was considered, quote:

“Not dangerous…”

Filed under: Movies, Uncategorized, Wrestling, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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