March 2011

February was a short month and I slept right through it.

Iran is threatening to boycott the 2012 Olympics in London because the new Olympic logo above may or may not appear to read as ZION. If you read it north to south, then south-east to north, back to south, and make sure to turn the square into a circle, and then rotate the bottom-right symbol 90 degrees one way or the other, then it just might say ZION. A dyslexic Iranian sees NOIZ.
Does is really matter if Iran boycotts the Olympics? What are their best events? Ping Pong? Synchronized Swimming? Dressage? Who cares? No one cares.

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I care about her.

This is Morena Baccarin. She plays the evil Queen Anna of the Visitors on the ABC show, V. She looks like an alien, acts like an alien, and if I ever wanted to have sex with an alien, it would be with her. She's as perfect as perfect an alien could be.

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The movie of the month is Time Out. It's about a middle manager-type who loses his job but can't bring himself to tell his family so he continues on with his life, pretending to go to work, and basically melts down into a complete nervous breakdown. The main character is played by Aurelien Recoing, who is one of the best actors in the world. It's from France so it's a safe bet it has sub-titles.
Put in your Netflix queue. (What's up with that word, queue - doesn't that word know it has too many vowels?)

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Dang. I've been following the overthrows in the Middle East and have been making predictions and buying into pools at the golf course on which would fall next, and I had it right for a while and was tracking for the big prize with my ticket, which read: Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen.

But I was wrong. It went: Tunisia, Egypt, Borders Bookstores.

I hate losing.

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A couple months ago I said I'd share with you my homemade version of Ghetto Ribs. I wasn't lying. It's right here, down below at the link. But first, I should warn you that you can find any ribs just as good as these without the hassle of making them yourself by driving downtown into any large American city and buy the same thing from black folk. They know how to make this stuff as well as anyone in the world.
If you don't know where to actually find them when you arrive downtown, just drive your car to Martin Luther King Blvd. and ask any prostitute on the street, "Yo, where can I find ribs, beef brisket and sweet potato pie?"
And she'll say, "Honey, I got me some sweeeeeet pO-tate-O pi right her'a! No sense looking no furtha-"
"Thanks, sugar, but I'm really just looking for the barbecue joint."
"Aw-rite, is down too blocks, honey. Ma unkle run da place. Say JaQuintanat'ai gives him a shout-out when yoo see 'im-"
"Thanks, doll, will do."

Seriously, every city in America has a Martin Luther King Blvd., except Salt Lake City. And you can always find the best barbecue ribs in town on Martin Luther King Blvd. Everyone knows that in America, but the problem is, most white people are too afraid to drive into the ghetto. There's nothing to fear!, I do it alllll the time! I've never had a single problem.
However, if you're a white person, and don't know how to conduct yourself in the ghetto, you're out of luck, and you'll need to make your own ribs. Personally, like I said, I have no fear of the ghetto. The trick is to pretend you belong there. And no, no, no, that doesn't mean you wear your jeans under your ass, your underwear on your head, put a toothpick in your mouth, and walk with a pimp limp. The trick is to show no fear.
But I am lazy, and plus, I kind of live far, far away from the ghetto. So I find it's easier to make my own ribs, and after about two years of experimentation I've finally come up with something that closely resembles Ghetto Ribs that you can make at home, even if you live in Manitoba. If you live in Manitoba, and make these ribs, and if you and your family eat those ribs, you'll be dancing like Michael Jackson, singing like Queen Latifah, and holding up your cousin's beer store.

Here you are. Mig's recipe for Ghetto Ribs. Enjoy!

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Now my favourite part: Mig Porn.

This month is no more special than other months, except perhaps last month, which I slept through. If you're familiar with popular culture - dance & music - this will make perfect sense to you because it makes no sense at all, and yet, it makes sense, and you'll understand why. But if you are not up on popular culture, this will simply make no sense to you. You'll have to decide for yourself which you are, cuz you is what you is, you are who you are... and don't blame me for saying that because it's a line from a Frank Zappa song. It goes on to say that you are "dumb all over... and maybe even a little ugly on the side." But that's Frank's fault, not mine. He said it, not me.

Here we have two items that don't seem to belong together, and yet, they do. It helps to watch this while high on something. I watched it on Percocet, and that suited me just fine. If I watched it on acid I'd probably just loop the video and stay up all night and then check myself into a mental hospital the next morning.

Here is Popping Girl. Enjoy! And thanks for visiting.