Brunchnugget

Mama's Day

2011-05-18T10:39:00.000-04:00

Kite Boy

2010-06-24T14:54:00.000-04:00

Girls

2010-06-08T12:02:00.000-04:00

Michel/Label Maker

2010-05-18T17:55:00.000-04:00

Thug Life Is Easy

2010-04-27T20:16:00.001-04:00

An Open Letter To Pitchfork

2010-04-26T15:28:00.006-04:00

Okay Pitchfork we get it. You’re better than us, cooler than us, and your clothes look less expensive but actually cost more then ours.

I’ve been reading Pitchfork for sometime now mostly for there album reviews. They have the benefit of being long and very in depth however they're rarely accurate. Look, I get that music is really personal and everyone likes different things (although I don’t know how anyone listens to a Nickelback album without feeling the need to get molested by a Catholic priest just to try and overcome the pain) and that’s what makes music great. But sometimes don’t you get the feeling that Pitchfork likes music just cause its weird? I check out their ‘best new albums’ every week and it’s rare if even one of them can qualify as ‘best’.

But I digress, one could write about something like this forever and nothing would be solved. What I really take issue with is a recent article covering last weeks Coachella Music and Arts Festival. This Brunchnugget member was lucky enough to get the opportunity to attend this wonderful event. I’ve simply never had such a great weekend, camped, met a bunch of new friends and took in some of the best indie bands from around the world. There was just an awesome spirit that surrounded the whole event for the entire weekend. Anyway, in their article Pitchfork reviewed the performances of the bands they actually went to see no doubt wearing there VIP wrist bands so they could really enjoy the concert. They managed to take in such acts as Jay-Z, Muse, Gorrilaz, Vampire Weekend, Passion Pit, Phoenix and many more. However their review had next to nothing good to say about all of them. The author even managed to criticize Passion Pit for reiterating how excited they were to be there. I get it a review is not supposed to be all warm and cuddly, but it is possible to be a little nice….right? Maybe they can’t, maybe they’ve spent so much time complaining they no longer know how to be gracious. Pitchfork managed to miss the whole spirit of the event and for one of the top indie magazines to miss that at one of North America’s biggest indie festivals, well that's pretty sad. I mean for fucks sake did you even enjoy yourselves? How about talking about how Phoenix blew there set out of the water despite the fact that all there lights were stuck in Europe because of the volcano? Naw, instead you’re pissed they played ‘Love Like a Sunset’ (the end of that song is awesome by the way). Also perhaps, just perhaps, the lead singer needed a three minute break because he’d been rocking hard to twenty minutes and then continued to rock even harder for twenty more minutes after that! In your review of the Gorrilaz you mention that you actually don’t like them! What?!? Then why were you there? You don’t HAVE to watch the Gorrilaz there were three other shows going on at the same time, and why would I want to read a review by some guys who doesn’t even like the band? Of course he won’t like the show! In the very least it won’t be an unbiased review!

You fucked up Pitchfork. You went to an event that was out of control, that all 40,000 paying customers enjoyed and you sat there scoffing, sighing and saying shit like “Oh, that was just alright.” Did you jump up and down? Did you dance? Did you get wasted? Are you allowed to have fun, or is that to passé? So we get it. You’re better than us. Now maybe you can get over yourselves and stop telling us about it.

The Endless Screw Ups of the CBC

2010-03-03T00:33:00.002-05:00

How many people are tired of the endless failures of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation? Certainly, to many Canadians this blog entry may seem incredibly unoriginal considering Canadians have been complaining about CBC programming since before it was even a television station. But it was time for Brunchnugget to finally address what can only be described as this horribly run television network, that manages to get the benefit of the doubt every year because it plays Hockey Night in Canada. The fact is that the excuses have run dry for the CBC. People constantly make the excuse “Oh, Canada looses all its talent to the United States and that’s why we can’t create quality programming”. To that I say “Bullshit”. There is no doubt in my mind that plenty of incredibly funny and skilled Canadians leave the country to head to Los Angeles in hopes of superstardom. But the CBC does nothing to nurture the young talent in Canada. I mean how many shows have you seen that feature one of those goddamned people from This Hour Has 22 Minutes? Guess what programming director, those people aren’t funny! They were a little bit funny for about two years, now they aren’t funny, they’re just annoying! This is just an example of the CBC reusing old worn out material instead of going out and looking for something fresh and exciting! I mean they just brought back Kids in the Hall for another mini-series. Look, I have the up most respect for the members of the Kids in the Hall, they truly were innovators and pioneers for not only Canadian comedy but comedy in general, but really? Again? I just won’t believe that there isn’t one other person in Canada that has a fresh funny idea. The CBC has to stop trying to remake the past and look towards the future! I am so tired of these old out dated comedians. Its time for the CBC to get infused with some youth!

In addition they need to stop trying to remake every popular American television show but with a Canadian twist. First of all you are just making a show that pretty well already exists except instead of football people play hockey and say ‘eh’ at the end of their sentences! Also the American shows have a massive budget that you simply cannot compete with, but still you attempted to make 16 terrible episodes and then are surprised when nobody watches. Just Stop!
Its especially disappointing when watching British and Australian television. I’m not going to say that all British and Australian TV is amazing, cause that’s just not true. There certainly are plenty of flops in both countries, but somehow both countries are still able to produce great show on their government run stations. The BBC in the past couple years has created shows such as The Office, and Gavin and Stacey (for those Canadians that don’t know this show get to know it. An American adaptation is already being written) while the Australian Broadcasting Corporation has produced Chris Lilly helmed shows Summer Heights High and We Can Be Heroes (once again if you don’t know these shows get to know them). These four shows are just a sample of great comedies created overseas that have been imported to the United States either as an American version or showing weekly on HBO. Why are these shows popular and Canadian shows aren’t even watched by Canadians? Well outside the obvious quality differences (quality meaning writing, and acting) it probably has something to do with the CBC’s obsession with making 16 episode season whereas all four of these shows have 8-10 episode seasons, in addition none of these shows went past three seasons (two of which only had one), and not because they didn’t get enough viewer ship, no. Instead because the writers didn’t want the shows to grow stale, and thought better to move onto different more engaging new projects! The CBC needs to take a page out of this book. Look for programs that have a set ending. Also none of these shows are distinctly English or Australian (We Can Be Heroes is about finding the next Australian of the year but could honestly be set anywhere), they are just great shows. The CBC needs to stop looking for that distinctly Canadian show that somehow binds the whole country together and just start looking for a great show. If the show is set in Canada that’s good enough!

In the end the fact is that the CBC is the least successful television station of the main Canadian networks. There top two television programs are Hockey Night in Canada at 7 followed closely by Hockey Night in Canada at 10, even the National the CBC news program is ranked below both CTV and Global in ratings. The station is poorly run, that’s it, but the problem is they don’t HAVE to change because they’ll be funded no matter what, but its time for Canadians to start demanding better programming and in order to do so the CBC needs to move away from this oldschool mentality and infuse the place with some fresh young blood! Whatever you’re doing right now isn’t working! Stop doing it!

Michael Grange: You Suck Big Time

2010-02-19T18:35:00.002-05:00

This idea was shamelessly stolen from firejoemorgan (R.I.P.). I present to you a timeless work by Michael Grange: "Along for the ride"

http://www.ctvolympics.ca/blogs/blog=michaelgrange/postid=46438.html#granges+blog+along+ride

Most of the best hockey observers on the planet were at Canada Hockey Place Thursday for another installment of the tournament to end all tournaments, so why not me?

If I may: because you, Michael Grange, are a terrible sports journalist.

It's Canada against one of our traditional rivals, the mighty Swiss, who of course helped spoil Canada's Olympic party in Turin in 2006 by shutting out the good guys 2-0 which, in retrospect, was just a total yack job on Canada's part.

Despite wordsmith-ing that would make Flaubert blush, your ‘yack job’ mot parfait didn’t throw me off your scent. Within 2 paragraphs, you’ve identified yourself as the TumTum of journalism’s Three Ninjas: you’re fat, slow and unexceptional but we put up with you because anybody can post garbage on the Internet (see: this blog) and we have to.

How are the Swiss at all considered to be “traditional rivals” or even “mighty”? The Swiss are not “traditional rivals” with anybody. They’re a small, landlocked country that excels at yodelling, making chocolate and helping people evade income tax. They somehow remained neutral in the two biggest conflicts in human history, despite literally being surrounded by warring parties. They have 2 NHL players, 2 AHL players and 1 WHL player. Their roster is to this tournament as intramural teams are to varsity athletics: washed-up has-been’s and guys who were never quite good enough in the first place. Or you could just call them ‘mighty’ and say that Marlon was the engine that drove the Jackson 5.

Couldn't happen again, could it?

Yes, it could, which is why you bothered to write your blog entry in the first place. It’s a short tournament where the sample size is too small for the laws of probability to apply. On any given night, the underdog can steal a victory from the favourite. That’s why everybody loves tournaments. Oh, you say it was a cheap hook to falsify suspense for the upcoming gimmicky turd of a column you will proceed to poop? Fine then, piss me off and do it.

3:30: An hour before game time

The gates must have opened because an area that was so quiet you could hear the cleaning crew boss bark out commands is starting to fill up. Hardly claiming to be scientific here, but it seems like a disproportionate number of the early arrivals - like 80 per cent? - are wearing a Team Canada sweater or carrying a flag or wearing a Team Canada sweater and wearing a flag.

Thanks for the disclaimer. I would have thought, given your introduction, that this was a rigorously peer-reviewed piece ripe for submission to the likes of the New England Journal of Medicine. Not so – I’ll be damned. Nonetheless, kudos for venturing so far as to guess that the arena isn’t quiet anymore because fans have begun to enter. Following that bit of omniscience comes the poignant observation that many of the Canadian fans watching Team Canada play a game in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada are adorned with national flags and sweaters. Slow down Sherlock! You’re making us laypeople and mere mortals feel bad.

For a lot of people their first order of business is to rush to the glass, hand an usher a camera and get a picture taken. Others are crowding three or four deep around the entrance to the bench.

3:35 p.m.

They've brought the nets out. I bet you didn't know this: They have different nets for the warm-ups and the games. The nets for the games have the camera in them, which makes sense, because you know the camera would be a target in warm-up and last about five minutes before Dany Heatley broke it.

Dany Heatley is bad at several things: speaking intelligently, driving cars and considering the well-being of whatever franchise he’s decided to screw over. Dany Heatley is better than almost every other person at one thing: shooting hockey pucks. In his career, he has scored on 15.9% of his shots against people paid millions of dollars to stop him from doing so, slightly more than once every two games. Shooting on an empty net in warm-up (DIFFERENT FROM GAME NET!!!!), you think it would take him “about five minutes” to break the camera. New bet: you did not think about that sentence before typing it.

Unlike the standard rink workers I'm accustomed to seeing, the ones working here seem to have been born since the Korean War. One of them is even a girl. She skates with the net to the far end gets a power tool out and begins drilling the ice to place the supports for the goal posts. Seeing her in her rink uniform skating so smoothly and then whipping out a drill so expertly? Well, it's very beguiling.

This is just bizarre, but my Spider Sense says that the first sentence was an attempt at humour. The weird reference to the Korean War, which ended in 1953, implies that most rink workers are over 56 or 57. I don’t get it. Are rink workers notorious for being old? I doubt it. Unless you’re saying that they mirror the country’s age pyramid…uh, in which case…touché? It only gets worse. The following sentences look like they were taken from your literary-spank bank, filed under: chauvinist overtones.

3:50 p.m.

The arena is about 1/3 full. The game doesn't start for another 40 minutes. Almost everyone I can see has some kind of Canada stuff on. And lots and lots of silly hats. It's remarkable. And now the first couple of rows around half of the rink Canada will warm-up (how do they know which half?) on are full with the fans pressed against the glass looking at an aquarium with no fish.

Silly hats, you say?! Quite surprising indeed that the Olympic Games, a two-week celebration of sport and national identity, would provoke people into expressing their festive mood and pride through their choice of dress. You do raise a good point, though: how do they know which half? After much contemplation, the only plausible answer is magic, and not that the home and visiting teams each have a pre-determined side just like in every other game of hockey ever played anywhere. Who knows, the ‘fish’ might even be in the ‘aquarium’ warming up beneath invisibility cloaks. It’s all so remarkable!

4:00 p.m.

Like the heavyweight champ, Team Canada comes to the ice late, letting the Swiss stew in their own end of the rink.

Or maybe, like you, Team Canada had no idea which side of the ice they were meant to warm up on and waited for Switzerland to go first in order to avoid looking like idiots. Also, it might be worth noting that Canada does not hold the Olympic heavy weight belt. Without claiming to be scientific a, like, 3.2 second search or any semblance of a short-term memory would have informed you, kind Michael, that this fabled belt belonged to Sweden, a land where all rink workers are female and born after the Korean War.

The roar builds as Brodeur appears in the tunnel and builds to a crescendo as Canada forms into two lines and begins rifling pucks at the net. Rush is providing the warm-up music. When the net is filled with pucks Pronger goes into the crease and pulls them out into a single blob and passes them out in groups of three or four to the lines forming behind them.

4:14 p.m.

Canada gets a big cheer from leaving the ice after warm-up.

“Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become.” - C.S. Lewis

Grangey boy, you irrigate my life.

4:30 p.m.

Christine Nesbitt's gold medal skate from earlier that afternoon is up on the big screen. The first "Go Canada Go" cheers rises. The arena is absolutely full and at least 90 per cent of the crowd is wearing team Canada gear (one exception is a woman below and to my right wearing a fur coat made of several foxes. I should give her Johnny Weir's email.)

How is this the third reference to people’s attire before the action has even begun? Why is this at all a surprise to you? What were you expecting the fans to wear? I’m sorry we don’t all take in the game like in your native land.

Midway through the first period, no score:

I should mention, at the risk of the Internet catching fire in a jealous rage, I'm sitting in the first row of media seats, which unlike in an NHL arena, aren't the worst ones in the building. These are some of the best seats you could ever have. I'm at the blue line about 11 rows up, opposite the Canadian bench. Sitting to my right is Roy MacGregor. To his right is Eric Duhatschek. If this seat was put on Craigslist, what could you get for it?

It might be a stretch, but with your bargaining skills, monsier Michèle, I bet you could trade it for a night with her.

Canada 1-0:

Canada's complicated hero, Dany Heatley, in a great feat of co-ordination, knocks down a centring pass with his body, kicks up to his stick and drills it behind Swiss goalie Jonas Hiller, or as Maple Leafs fans like to call, him, the poor man's J.S. Giguere.

Six minutes to play, first period:

Joe Thornton jumps onto the ice and holding his stick in the middle of the shaft with his right hand, like a spear or something.

Something = a penis.

He sprints into the Swiss end and just crushes poor No.77. Buries him. Playing against Team Canada would be thrill, but not necessarily fun. The size disparity is palpable.

I’m a jerk who is writing without a deadline or pressure so I get to point out your stupid spell mistakes. Also, this pulsing piece has taken a turn towards sexual; I’m all hot and bothered for you Michaelangelo

End of first period, 1-0:

Canada: Roy proclaims it a wonderful period of hockey, with high praise for the pace and the energy of both teams. Duhatschek wonders why you don't see more like it the NHL. Roy suggests it's the energy in the building, the thrill of playing for country. I offer that maybe because they're playing only every other day and don't have to travel between games?

I propose that none of you have very interesting insights and that you, Grangesorous Rex, have never looked at an NHL schedule. Duhatschek is encouraged to compare the Team Canada roster with this one and kindly re-submit his question.

Anyway, I agree. Fun opening period. And yes, they have a kiss cam here, but everyone kissing is wearing team Canada stuff.

What are the odds that Michael ‘Hermione’ Grange is at half-mast thinking about the kiss cam landing on him and rink girl? I vote favourable.

First intermission, 1-0:

Interviewed on the big screen is Gord Robertson who is dressed in a Team Canada Jersey with a No.52 on it because he played for the Edmonton Mercurys, the last team to win an Olympic gold medal in hockey in prior to the Salt Lake City win in 2002. Robertson tells the crowd that he was playing for the Trail Smoke Eaters at the time - a nice cheer goes up - when the Mercurys put out a call to add some talent and Robertson was added to the roster. He then tells a story about how he almost got thrown out of the tournament for taking a swing at a Czech guy. Perfect.

Yeah, perfect! Get those good-for-nothing Czechs! Know who else took a swing at the Czechs? The Soviet Union. Except instead of losing a gold medal game to them, they lost their freedom for 21 years. Perfect.

End of second period 2-2:

Ask any sports writer worth their salt if they cheer for one team or another at a game and the answer will always be they're cheering for the best story. This is why, I think that Roy kind of cackles when the Swiss tie the score 2-2 just before the second intermission. The crowd stepped up big when the Swiss scored to make it 2-1, instantly starting a "Go Canada Go" chant. But they seem a bit nervous now that it's 2-2.

The first sentence leads me to think you are not included in the pantheon of great sports writers. Within the first 6 words of the second sentence, you have confirmed it.

Second intermission, 2-2:

No kiss cam between the second and third period. Instead B.C. Premier Gordon Campbell is interviewed and is booed for his trouble. Nice.

It could have been much worse. Let the people speak, Mickey, they might be on to something!

Third period, 2-2:

If you happened to miss this game live check out Youtube. Everyone in the arena seemingly has a camera and loads of people are taping the game from their seats.

Alternatively, if you would like a viewing experience much less pleasurable than unsteady camera phones, you can freely stream it in high definition online. The picture quality is nauseating, it takes forever to load and they have obnoxious people talking the ENTIRE time called ‘commentators’. Stick to YouTube.

13:37 to play in the third:

Crosby is on the bench with a bleeding nose and Iginla skates over to the refs to plead his case. The scoreboard operators helpfully run the replay clearly showing Crosby getting sticked in the face. A little later in the tournament with a medal on the line a move like that could start a riot in here, I'm thinking.

8:52 to play:

So this has turned in a very exciting hockey game. Roy keeps saying it: "What a hockey game. One of the best games ever." What I'll say is if you took the names off the jerseys you wouldn't be able to guess who was going to win: the big team or the quick, hustly one?

Unsure of what hustly meant, I looked it up in the dictionary. I chuckled to myself and thought “Michael, my boy, you’ve done it again! Your words are like doing a line of gold-coated coke in the Fountain of Youth”. I used to think I wanted my wife to be hustly and turn verbs into adjectives at will. Now, I want my wife to be Michael Grange.

Certainly you can't make the case one is playing better than the other. Canada gives up a 4-on-2 in one direction and gets a 4-2 the other direction, only to be stoned by Hiller twice from point-blank range.

Instead of using one 30 second sequence of events as a basis for assessing a 60 minute game, I will look at the box score. It tells me that Canada had 47 shots on net and that Switzerland mustered 23. The arguments for my case are threefold. First, you’re wrong and you cheese me. Second, one team is playing demonstrably better than the other as Canada takes 2 shots for every one taken by the Swiss. Third, in this game, Brodeur is to Hiller as you are to David Halberstam.

The cool thing is the crowd isn't angry or frustrated. They're like Roy; they're enjoying the game.

No, they’re probably soiling their Team Canada diapers as they watch the hockey equivalents of Frank Stallone, Donnie Wahberg and Aaron Carter rake in $100 million at the box office for starring in “Shit Storm on Ice 2: The Same Thing Happened 4 Years Ago.”

Five minutes to play:

The crowd is doing their part. Brodeur has done his part (really? Allowing 2 goals on 23 shots). Canada just can't solve Hiller (they did, twice). Every chance the Canadian have; every rush; every teed up shot from the blue line the crowd roars like a jet taking off and then dies out just as quickly as Hiller swallows up the puck. If Canada does win this thing the crowd can take a bow. They'll have earned it.

Are you reading this Crosby? Are you listening Toews? The crowd is what is keeping you in this game. When you’re popping champagne on February 28^th, make sure to pour a little out for the crowd because that’s who the gold will really belong to. They’re the ones who sat there in quiet encouragement instead of putting immense pressure on you. They’re the ones winning the face-offs, creating scoring chances, blocking shots and skating all-out back-checking on counter-attacks. Just the crowd and their Team Canada gear, winning hockey games for you.

Overtime:

You have love the Olympics, where euphemisms live whole new lives. There is no sudden death in the Olympics. Nope. The announcers says: "As the score is tied a five-minute, sudden victory period will be played." Sudden-victory. How great is that? The point of overtime is not that you have a chance to win - that's what the shootout is for. It's that you have a chance to die a sudden painful death. Sudden victory. That's funny.

Every two years, for two weeks, euphemisms get to stop pretending to be Bruce Wayne and embrace their inner Batman. Don’t you wish there was something similar that allowed writers who usually focus on one thing to start rambling about something they clearly know very little about? Maybe one day. Also, you seem to be suggesting that things that are different are funny. Not good.

Nash runs Hiller, or at the very least doesn't try too hard not to run him, and Hiller is on the ice getting tended too for a few minutes. The crowd chants "Hiller, Hiller." Stay classy Canada.

Shootout:

On the positive side of the ledger, the Olympias have been working flawlessly; every flood going off without a hitch. They should drive those puppies to the Richmond Oval.

He is encouraging violence against animals. Grange has no soul.

A girl just below me is chewing on her head scarf like like Jerry Tarkanian used to chew on towels at UNLV. Crosby scores and she starts high-fiving like a softball player. The crowd is so happy, it's awesome. Before they leave the ice the team raises their sticks to acknowledge the crowd, none of who have left, and they go bananas. They just want to be a part of it.

You know I'm not buying the pressure angle. Not from what I've seen. These fans are just thrilled to be on this ride. They're not disgruntled or grumpy or waiting to be proved something, even after Canada was life-and-death to beath the Swiss. They're there for the taking.

How are you making this about the fans? I don't own a TV and I still feel like I've been drowning in "this is our game"-themed advertising for months now! These players are under more pressure than your will ever face in your life. Of course the fans are going to be excited at the game, but that doesn't somehow make it easier.

Team Canada has to ride that wave.

Ugh.

Man!

2010-02-04T13:57:00.001-05:00

Boom! Check this sexy shit out!

Sexy New Workout

2010-01-19T12:42:00.001-05:00

This video is sure to get you guys ready for this years beach season!!!

Street Meet

2010-01-06T02:11:00.001-05:00

A regular meeting on the street goes sour!

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance

2009-11-18T15:27:00.001-05:00

Check out Lady Gaga's - Bad Romance video here and make sure to read Brunchnugget's in depth explanation of it below!

Lady GaGa's Bad Romance Video: Explained

2009-11-18T15:23:00.001-05:00

I’m in love with a robot. A tragic, spiny sex robot.

Finally Lady GaGa has let me in: she’s given me all the pieces to her puzzle, given up the secret of her past. I'm the first one to decipher the message: in her newest video Bad Romance GaGa gives a tell-all story of her life as a space alien prostitute femmebot from the Eastern Bloc.

We start the vignette with our star in her current state. The title Lady does indeed denote nobility: the empress of a league of the deadliest fuckdroids in the universe. We get a full shot of the team, each one sexier than the last and each perfectly wound and oiled. Thank Xenu that computers can't get the herp. Then, GaGa presses the last track button on her Parrot StARCK and shows us her origin.

Sometime in the ‘68, or whenever the Cold War happened, the cosmonauts found GaGa and her army of sex dolls floating through spaced in their conspicuously phallic pods. The commies knew they had stumbled upon an ancient – and perhaps a bit stanky – weapon. They immediately secured the pods in their East German bastion: the GaGa Bath Haus. The only evidence of the sexual monsters inside was the spectrometry: usually yielding a wavelength, GaGa’s signal clearly read “impregnate, abort, repeat”. Some years later, GaGa and her troop ooze out of their pods - apparently the strobe light from the neighbouring club woke them up.

As these magnificent mechanical creatures emerge, it becomes clear that before climbing into their pods they had just seen the Spike Jonze flop Where the Wild Things Are and were having a slumber party in their sexy jam-jams. Aware that they have an audience in the Bath Haus, they begin to move. You see, these space aliens, like bees, communicate through jerky hip-hop dance.

We find out quickly that GaGa doesn’t eat food. It turns out that she her ideal food, her ambrosia, is cock. Big, warty cock. (“I want your ugly, I want your disease”). In her larval stages, she expands her eyes to anime size, to take in as much information about her new socialist world as possible. We see her hand twitching in overload, and later she stimulates herself to suss out tactile inputs. At some point, she sheds her skin, specifically that of her nipples, and tapes some gauze to her boobs. The computer is learning and growing.

We get a few glimpses of GaGa’s torture face, hungry for penis. She’s pulled out of her tub by two minions and forced to drink the only other thing that will sustain her: Moldovan orphan tears. Luckily for her, the USSR is flooded with this shit and the Nemiroff distillery is just a stone’s throw away.

She is then subject to inspection by evil scientist Karl Hanslo, heir to the Nemiroff fortune and director of sexual weaponry for the Soviets. For the past decade, Hanslo has been extracting orgasmo-DNA from GaGa and experimenting on himself – having equipped himself with a giant un-chafe-able wang and the world’s best jaw for cunnilingus, gold plated in decadent Russian tradition.

The story switches between shots of the test performances, with a reluctant Lady GaGa falling everywhere, and a shower scene. In the shower we can see GaGa has fallen in love with the half-human Hanslo. Her love is so strong that GaGa picked up an earthling hobby to be more like him, what we humans call an “eating disorder”. Then, we see a bald pussy. I think everyone gets that. GaGa mounts Hanslo, but he shows his lack of interest, using his Wii remote to sell some new applications of this sexual technology on eBay. The GaGa technology goes for a million of whatever the stupid commies used as a bogus currency.

Then we see a true testament of GaGa’s divinely trashy powers: she goes on a field trip to Chernobyl. Her costume is covered in uranium and her hair totally frizzes into a double beehive. Everyone’s dead, but she doesn’t care - the radiation mutates her genome, turning her feet into crab claws and evolving her into a level 7 diva. Covered in uranium, she struts through an underground shower room, realizing she is now queen and Karl is hers for the taking.

Here we are, at the finale. Adorable little robot GaGa doesn’t realize that polar bears are our most loveable deadly predator and kills one on the way to the Nemiroff Ice Palace. She walks into the master bedroom and stomps towards Karl. She removes the bear-coat to demonstrate her newest tune-ups, and for once the Russian bastard puts down his glass of vodka-flavoured tears. To set the mood, GaGa lights a fire, but with the naiveté of a toddler, doesn’t realize she’s set the room on fire. Then she gets hers. She reaches climax in a storm of flames and finally has her man. As she turns to him to get his number, she realizes that he has been burned alive. What a bust.

This is the tragic story of GaGa's origins, move over Romeo and whos-her-face, bitch is on fiyah!

This video is so fabulous I want to bite my own dick off. GaGa, I’m so glad your surgery’s all done and you can show your face. You have redefined fierce.

E.S.

Lady is a Vamp

2009-11-12T14:53:00.001-05:00

When did everyone become obsessed with Vampires again? It’s like the issue of the environment it goes away for a while and just when you think you’ve gotten rid of those annoying people who are mad about Styrofoam they come back a hundred times worse! That’s what this crazy vampire fad is like, it’s like a crazy environmentalist gang yelling at you about Styrofoam.

I understand people think Twilight is cool (which it isn’t) and that’s how this whole mess got started, but did we really need to take it this far? I mean you know you’re in trouble when John C. Reilly is doing a movie about vampires. Slash I don’t care how wicked anyone thinks John C. Reilly is this obvious piss pot of a movie takes him down an ass load of notches (and frankly he didn’t have many to work with in the first place). In addition to the Vampires Assistant we have to put up with another new teen vampire show on The CW. Is this a giant joke that the networks are playing on us, where they all see how many vampire shows they can get on the air before we all go crazy and start believing that we ourselves are vampires? Or are they just so dumb that anyone who walks into a pitch meeting and says “Vampires” they automatically give a show to?

I mean its not like the story lines are different, boy meets girl, boy is a vampire, girl is not but has come kind of haunted past, and for that reason is at the centre of a secret vampire legend where they all need to suck her blood, murder her and probably rape her cause lets be honest they are vampires. But wait, this boy wont let that happen cause he has the hots for her and well sex becomes weird after you’re raped by a bunch of vampires. So he works to protect the helpless girl, and on and on it goes. Unless it’s the second twilight in which case you just add a werewolf in, cause you don’t want to let things get stale. Do you?

Lastly I’m going to beg the networks to stop introducing the public to new vampire shows and instead just start replaying episodes of Buffy and Angel cause at least those shows were cool.

Top Five Most Offensive Costumes of 2009

2009-10-31T13:44:00.002-04:00

We here at Brunchnugget believe it is our duty to provide those people who like to mix it up on Halloween weekend with a resource. This list isn’t for the faint of heart, the girl who always dresses as a princess or the guy who puts a mustache on a claims he’s a famous 80’s TV personality. Frankly fuck those people! Halloween is a time to shine, show off some wicked costumes and perhaps rub people the wrong way. So without further ado here is Brunchnugget’s top five most offensive Halloween costumes of 2009!

A Mexican with Swine Flu – For this costume dress shabby look really pale and write something like ‘Swine Flu Victim #402’ on your chest, you’ll be the talk of the party!
Heath Ledgers Empty Pill Bottle – If you’re feeling ambitious I would say build a cylinder out of cardboard, and if not maybe just wear all white. Either way make sure the bottle is empty or only has one pill left.
Ted Kennedy reunited with his Dead Hooker – This is a couple costume. Head into your neighbour’s party dressed as recently deceased Ted Kenney reunited with the hooker he killed. This costume will be the talk of the political community.
Dead version of Johnny Castle from dirty dancing – For those of you that didn’t immediately understand how this would be offensive, Johnny Castle was played by Patrick Swayze.
Michael Jackson in a coffin – This would be better as a group costume, if you have two strong friends they could just carry you around in a coffin while you’re dressed as Michael Jackson.

Well, that’s all for this years top five mot offensive Halloween costumes. I hope everyone found something they liked and plan on dressing up as this year, and if you didn’t and were upset throughout the entire list….get over yourself.

Stress Reliever

2009-10-07T23:51:00.001-04:00

A man is finally able to relieve his stress, using a curious aid.

A Letter from Steve

2009-10-07T13:52:00.005-04:00

Hi, I'm Evan.

A little while ago, I received this letter from my good friend Stephen. He was feeling a bit funny, I think. I read this letter out loud while he wrote it. We slept together last night.

Would you rather be Steve Moore or me? Ev: argiuphpanhaupfgnfp dick in your eye mother fucker I hate you so much I just wanna ruin everything your family and generations of family does so that anyone named Snow will just get punched in the ass everything they go. You are the worst person to ever exist in the history of shitty people being alive. I prefer to be sucking dick then being in your presence. Sometimes when I’m jacking off I picture your face with tires marks across it mixed with blood and tears. If I was a murderer I would torture you for 88 minutes then rape and kill you. Then put Al Pacino in a shitty movie about it. And make money off of how badly I fucking ruined your shit. Youre a worthless sack of excrement. I have a boner thinking about massacring your children. If you could be dead right now I would pay someone fifty thousand dollars to make it happen. I would drop out of med school and suck dick on the corner to ensure that you cease to exist as the worthless hack you are today. It’s too bad that someone hasn’t killed you yet…I feel like the last ten minutes of being with you has been as bad as the last hour of Kurt Cobain’s life. I want to slit your throat and stuff you with pihranas. Peebles? Would you rather be Ev Snow or…..Stephen Hawking after a stroke??? I want to genetically alter your genes so every cell in your body explodes with sulfuric acid. Heath Ledger >>> Evan Snow. I want to JFK you. My communication problem stems from how fucking atrocious this mutant lady-boy beside me is. Looking at him makes me bite my own tongue until I taste blood just like his mother’s does. I would rather spend time with "Kathy Griffith" then you. Alone. Naked. With her groping and drooling on me. And talking about Brian Peebles. I NEED A WATERFALL. Don’t go chasing waterfalls. Just stick to the rivers and the lakes that youre used to. Had my first real sex dream. Jerking to my favourite song. I like Britney Spears. This makes me gay like Evan Snow. I would fight a bear, kill Nelson Mandela, strangle three puppies with my dick, and make-out with "Kathy Griffith" while Anton licks my ass before allowing this fucking tool to continue sucking oxygen from my atmosphere.

Kathy Griffith was not included in the original post.

An Ode to the Wet Dream

2009-09-08T22:40:00.001-04:00

There comes a time in every man’s life when he wants those raging hormones and uncontrollable erections to mean something. He wants to share his changing body with a special someone, or anyone. But he can’t, because he’s 14, awkward and is about as smooth as the majority of Californians at a taping of the Ellen Show. Instead, he is forced to share it with his bed sheets.

Brunchnugget believes there is a beauty to this. There are no rules, no safety words, nothing is out of bounds. They’re there to listen. You can forget their names. You can cover their face with a pillow and pretend they’re your friends sheets. They don’t care if you’re a grower or a shower. They don’t ask for your number. The half-asleep state also provides youngsters everywhere with a utopia; a place where their dreams flirt with reality and they put on performances that would make James Dean look like Andy Dick.

Of course, wet dreams do have consequences. Often they leave you in a position more precarious than Ted Kennedy after a Chappaquiddick party. Countless are those moments when young men have awoken only to think “Jesus, I fell asleep on the couch again”, “I wish hadn’t napped next to my sister” or “if only this were Jewish camp”. Thank God for the pillow flip, because it’s always cooler on the other side. At least until it happens twice. Kids, don’t be shy. Let those juices flow and remember that first love only happens once. Unless you live in Iran…and dream about men…because then it never happens…legally…or California. Ugh.

The Game

2009-08-28T10:18:00.001-04:00

In 1995 the greatest soccer game in the history of time was played in the small unassuming Toronto suburb of Etobicoke.

Can Anyone Remember the Last Time George Lopez was Funny?

2009-08-25T15:13:00.002-04:00

Can anyone remember the last time George Lopez was funny? Maybe you’re wondering where this came from. Well like millions of Canadians who subscribe to HBO because it offers wicked broadcasting I am bombarded with commercials about Georges Lopez’s upcoming comedy special, which is going to appear on the network sometime in what I hope is the near future. But back to my initial question. Can anyone remember the last time George Lopez was funny? The simple answer is no, and this is because George Lopez has never been funny. I have news for you George just because you yell it at me in a Mexican accent and then smile at the end of all your sentences doesn’t mean your funny. But what is even more amazing is that you had a television show for 5 years. Yeah that’s right ladies and gentlemen a significant portion of the public (or a significant enough portion) watched the ‘George Lopez Show’ often enough to keep new episodes coming out every week for five years. Shame on us. Now some of you are saying “No way man that show was awesome, and rather thought provoking.” And I know I mean who can forget the episode entitled ‘George just can’t let sleeping Mexicans lie’ (that’s a real title by the way). But I’m harping a lot on Georges Lopez here and he really isn’t the only unfunny person claiming to be funny, I mean Tyler Perry. That guy just straight up sucks. Oh and Mr. Perry can you stop putting you name in the title of everything you make like your Steven fucking Spieberg, your Tyler Perry, remember that. Maybe I’m just mad because great shows like Arrested Development get pulled off the air so we can enjoy 5 years of the ‘George Lopez Show’ or 23 seasons of ‘Two and a half Men’. Maybe if their was an island that we could send all the these faux funny people to. Just burst into rob Schneider’s house wrap him up in a rug and toss him into an unmarked van with Charlie Sheen, and Carlos Mencia, and then throw them on the next plane to Palau. That would be perfect, firstly the people of Palau would probably be thrilled to see them, secondly they could go through life blissfully unaware that there careers were supported by Adam Sandler, past glory and Comedy Central respectively. And when Palau gets tired of them they can just ship them off to Tonga. They’ll make the Oceanic rounds, it’ll be great….for them. But you know these shows stay or stayed on the air because people were watching them, so I guess we really only have ourselves to blame…

K.S.

Got Yourself A Blog - The Brunchnugget Rap

2009-08-24T17:13:00.005-04:00

Original Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pe0nF1u-3yY&NR=1

Hey kids! Sing along at home: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54OJ1gOsggE

"Got Yourself A Blog - The Brunchnugget Rap" - BP.DB,

Woke up this mornin’, you got yourself a blog, you got yourself a blog

[Chorus]

Five aimless graduates wastin’ days at a time

So I got mine, I hope you (got yourself a blog)

It’s Brunchnugget time, I hope you (got yourself a blog)

Yeah we’re white, I hope you (got yourself a blog)

Our snobby style’s icier than a cold front,

You’re average like Helen Hunt, hope you (got yourself a blog)

Believe this Obama, hope you (got yourself a blog)

[Verse 1]

What if our first post had very little to offer?

It’s an intro, it’s supposed to be softer.

From now on we'll hit you like Kane and a cabbie,

Harder than the old priests at Westminster Abbey.

Little preppy badasses, hearts of gold

Aspiring doctors, lawyers and Bucky’s best friend

You can thank us for starting the PBR trend.

Get in touch with the bros and pop those collars,

Don’t choke like Sprewell against these beer pong scholars.

Just like Roseanne’s neck, watch it all unfold,

We barely break 25 inches when it’s all told.

We're a bi-provincial version of Entourage,

Our money, cars, hoes are all a mirage.

So let BN remove your life's old school corsage,

And give your comedic breasts a tender massage.

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
We’re the B, the L to the –O-M-G
and if we wasn’t it must’ve been H-M-B
you know the kids that got their cut fixed
Hair parted with Ev Snow’s preciseness
Floor Fellow for life, it’s—
The return of the saucy child, son is a
wrist floppa
So who are you poofta? Ya’ll awaited the true maker
Puffin’ that bucky, cups of that Gato-
Too
Kaley boo’, tore up, wake up in Toronto
Give Up? Never, ‘member we do this through outrageous steps
You nuggets thought we was gone, so in light of our death
Y’all get round 5, try not to smile, bunch of pufftas
Call us Gods Sons, with our bank low
We don’t eat slow, put them BUNS up like Toonie Tuesday
This is

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

You can call us the blog game's Taliban,

With jokes that bomb like '45 in Japan,

Still we rise fast like an N.R.B. in math class,

Like Pride Week year round, you can't stop this sass.

We're Hova with a pen, Nas with a laptop,

Bring us home from Biftek, it's a guaranteed flop,

Cause we'd rather get poofaced and bump some Hilltop.

Yeah Bernie Maddoff's to finance as we are to hip-hop.

And we'll chop your nuts like the Sham-wow guy,

Even though we're pastier than Kristen Stewart's upper thigh.

I guess now's a good time to bid you goodbye,

This shit was more underwhelming than a sale at BestBuy.

B.P. & D.B.

United Church

2009-08-21T20:10:00.002-04:00

Two church representatives arrive at a women's door in an attempt to convince her towards their faith!

The Off Season That Was.....

2009-08-20T13:22:00.002-04:00

Well ladies and gentlemen the NFL pre-season has already begun and the regular season is just around the corner so I think its time for us to take a look back at the off season that was. This years off season was full of stupidity. I know what you’re all saying, “every off seasons in the NFL is full of stupidity.” Maybe but this one takes the cake. First we have to watch the hearings for Plaxico Burress. For those of you that don’t remember Plaxico was the genius that shot himself in the leg at a club when he stuffed an illegal hand gun down his pants…..What the FUCK were you thinking. Firstly Plaxico who puts a loaded gun down his pants, and further more who doesn’t take the time to check and see if the safety is on. I have never shot, touched or even seen a gun and even I know that my thought process would go a little something like this. “Huh, I think I’m going to put this gun down my pants, but first I should check and make sure the safety is on so I don’t blow my dick off.” But apparently this didn’t cross your mind. No your mind worked like this “Shit, I’m gonna stuff this gun down my pants cause I’m fucking badass. Also fuck the safety cause I’m just that badass. Even though I make my living with my legs and feet and have great love for my penis which is also badass.” Coupled with this stupidity Plaxico is the fact that you brought the gun to the club at all. As the Basement Jacks would say, “where’s your head at”. Did you not think about the other black celebrities that have brought guns into clubs? Has it ever worked? Did you just assume that you were a special case? Like FUCK! On top of this after you shot yourself in the leg you gave the gun to your football buddy Antonio Pierce so that he could hide it for you. Really? Like when the cops get there and see that you have a bullet lodged in your leg and no hole in your pants they are going to assume that someone walked up to you undid your pants shot you in the leg and then took the time to do your pants back up? Also you’re Plaxico fucking Burress you just won the superbowl, you know everyone in the club is looking at you……don’t you? And Antonio like what the hell buddy. If you will stash an illegal gun for a friend that has successfully shot himself in the leg, when does it end? At no point did you not take a step back and say “well, Plexico is fucked, maybe I shouldn’t go down this road. I like playing for the New York Giants and I also like the millions of dollars I make….” Nope you didn’t and you know why? Because that would make to much goddamn sense!

In addition to following the Plaxico Burress saga the fans were graced with multiple court appearances from Dante Stallworth. Just so everyone is aware Dante decided to drive home hammered. Along the way he struck and killed a man, meaning that he’s just been convicted of manslaughter. It is important to note that he struck the man with his Bentley. Yeah that’s right his Bentley, so that means he has the money to buy a Bentley but not enough to hire a car, call a limo service or even hail a taxi. Dante, like come on. This is just ridiculous. Even if you didn’t have cash on you most taxis take credit card, and now a lot of them also take debit. In addition you are aware that you’re Dante Stallworth and you could just walk out the door go to the first major intersection find a man with a football jersey and ask him to drive you home, and my guess is he would be more then happy and would do it for free. Dante this is just disappointing…..

So to wrap up this off season saw Plaxico Burress convincted for his shenanigans as well as Antonio Pierce for aiding Plaxico in what looked like a perfect plan, and Dante Stallworth said no to a taxi and struck and killed a man with his Bentley. But our biggest worry is the dog guy playing the eagles right………

K.S.

It's On!!!!!!!!!

2009-08-19T22:54:00.004-04:00

Hello to everyone and welcome to our blog. Brunchnugget is a comedy troupe based out of both Toronto and Montreal, meaning yup were bi-provincial because that's a word. Brunchnugget consists of five people, who all play very different but equally important roles.

Evan Snow: The Token Gay - Evan Snow graduated from gay studies at the University of Alabama with honours in being super gay. He hopes one day to be both an interior decorator and a hairdresser. Evan stays in the troupe because every troupe needs a gay man, and a hairdresser. However after Evan gets back from gay conversion camp I’m afraid he will no longer be in the troupe, or be funny.

Steve Blasutti: The Man Behind the Troupe – Steve is our resident slow talker. He’s just one of those guys that gets really high talks super slow and says really dumb shit. Steve could be considered a walking punching bag but he would have to know what that meant. Also Steve follows the Dogma “weaknesses actually hold you back”. It’s his own Dogma. Like he created it and everything. Therefore Steve has no weaknesses!

Dan Beamish: The Deep Thinker – Dan Beamish also known as Deathstar because he is a totally awesome bro, knows no boundaries. Readers will surely quiver when they discover that Dan/Deathstar has once again successfully rocked their world. Readers will probably join some brand of Nihilist cult and drink copious amount of Kool-aid. I imagine the Kool-aid will be grape flavored. Which brings up a good question. When cults do drink Kool-aid how do they decide on the type of Kool-aid they drink? Obviously these are the types of questions Dan will be tackling!

Brian Peebles: The Straight Man – This is all you need to know about Peebles, one day I sat down beside him and he was eating a bowl of pasta and he had two giant drops of pasta sauce on his chin and I said “Hey Brian you have two giant drops of pasta sauce on your chin.” To which he responded “I’m aware but I’m expecting to put more there so I’m waiting until I finish my bowl of Pasta.” Yet, he still dares to dream.

Kale Stockwell: The X Factor - Kale recently completed his PhD from the Michael Bay School of Cinema after putting the finishing touches on his senior film project called 'Space Carrots' which he described as "Tarantino with a rom-com twist". However, he subsequently decided his true calling lay in the service industry, leading him to move back to his native Etobicoke. He spends most of his days serving at the local golf club restaurant, despite the course being closed, and dreaming of his Montreal friends, more in lust than love.

There you have it folks. Brunchnugget! We will be coming at you everyday with our sweet sexy brand of comedy. So get ready cause we're comin' from all angles. Especially the sexy ones.