Azn Badger's Blog

What About the Lysine Contingency…?

Do You Know Your Poop-Hole?

Written by a Japanese dude. No surprise there...

Everyone poops.

That’s not just the title of an awesome book, it’s also a stone cold fact.

A fact that too many of us seem to deny, or choose not to acknowledge.

I came to realize something a few years back:

Azn people talk about poop.

A lot.

A few years ago, I got into the habit of asking a specific question to all of my close friends.

Said question goes a little something like this:

“Hey, does your family like to talk about poop and bowel functions?”

What I discovered over the years, is that virtually all of my Asian friends, be they Thai, Cambodian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, etc. answered me with a simple “yes,” while my friends of the decidedly paler variety, either dodged the question or replied with an emphatic “no.”

I can’t really put my finger on the details of why this is, but my best guess is that it’s a cultural difference.

While I can’t speak for any other Asian culture, being Japanese; I can say with a great deal of certainty, that we Japanese (always wanted to say that…) are a bowel obsessed people.

In America; the only talk of bowel functions, or urination, or poop that we get in mainstream media comes in the form of potty humor and TV commercials for pills that prevent old people from peeing themselves.

In general, American mainstream television seems to believe that irregular bowel functions are a problem only for the elderly and menopausal, as I’ve yet to see images of youthful people associated with the subject.

And no, Jamie Lee Curtis and her Activia ads does not count as a “youthful” spokesperson for healthy bowels in America.

If anything, it’d be more appropriate to file her under the menopausal demographic…

This is not the case in Japan.

You flip on just about any daytime television program in Japan, and I guarantee you you’ll find at least a half dozen programs for herbal bowel regulation supplements featuring interviews with young and nubile, bikini clad women openly discussing the epic shit they took the night before, or the epic shit they feel they need to take, but just can’t get out the gate due to their irregular bowel functions.

Don’t ask me why, but we Japanese talk about our poops.

All my life, I’ve gotten the feeling that my mom cares more about the health of my anus than me as a person.

Seriously, I can’t go a day without having her ask me:

“Did you get your ruffage?”

“Are you regular”

“Do you got the poops?”

Some kids go away to college for 4 years, and have their parent’s drop them a line every now and again to tell them how much they miss them, or to ask how their classes are going.

I went away for 4 years and my mom would call me every day to ask if I was backed up.

Being as I was eating at the school cafeteria most of the time, I did in fact have my fair share of bathroom war stories to report to my mother; but that’s besides the point.

The point is, in my family; the health and status of the various colons and anuses in the household have not only been fair game for discussion, they’ve played host to some of the more serious and genuinely interesting conversations we’ve had.

You may be laughing at this point, but I find that growing up being aware of, and free to discuss the state of my bowels has done me a lot of good.

Seriously, when I see some of shit that people eat, only to complain later in the day that their “stomach” is bothering them, (note: stomach is code for “anus” or “ass” among the sheepish) I can’t help but consider myself fortunate to know better than them.

Honestly folks, if you’re in good health, and know how your system reacts to whatever food you put into it; you’ll find that unwelcome “surprises” like the one mentioned above will almost never happen.

While I’m on the subject of food though, I figure I should mention why I decided to type this article today.

Today a friend of mine at work offered me some pecans as a snack.

I politely declined, citing my bowel’s inability to handle the delicious, but ass-crippling nut that is the pecan.

Actually, I think my exact words were:

“I like pecans man, but you realize they’ll wreck your shit, right?”

My comment was met with laughter, as it was indeed meant to be; but I think my buddy failed to realize that it also doubled as a genuine admonishment coming from a seasoned veteran of toilet seat warfare.

We’ll come back to that in a minute.

Anyway, sure enough, later in the day my buddy sat down next to me, his expression devoid of character, his complexion chalky and white as the Moon; and he said to me in the most humble of tones:

“So, those pecans tore through me pretty bad a minute ago…”

The kid got reeled in by the sweet taste and classy packaging of the pecans, only to end up getting his ass used as the ring for a 40-shit Royal Rumble.

Poor bastard probably blacked out putting himself in a Steiner Recliner just to get the last man over the top rope…

To that I responded with a baudy “I told you so,” however with just the slightest hint of understanding layered beneath it all.

You see, though I know my bowels like the back of my hand, I have this strange problem where many of my favorite foods/snacks just happen to be things that “upset” me.

I know this from experience, as well as from the fact that I’ve over-indulged in said food items at least once/twice/a billion times, to the point where the resulting toilet seat warfare has become routine to a fault.

It’s been a long time since I’ve waged all-out war with my anus, to the point where these days every skirmish is more akin to war games than anything else.

Trust me, I quite literally know my shit.

Tomorrow I’ll be following things up with a detailed list of tasty snacks that just happen to wreck your shit if you eat too much of them!

Excuse me while I step out to do little peacekeeping South of the border…

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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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