The Clown Prince of Crime

"You see, to them, you're just a freak...like me."

Can someone tell me why I'm totally psyched to see The Joker in the upcoming "Dark Knight" flick, but pretty meh about the Caped Crusader himself? I'm even envisioning future DVD viewings where I just fast forward to all the Joker parts and watch them over and over again. I guess it's just the idea of Batman as a big fucking rich guy that bothers me. And this is in a summer where we've already had Iron Man the big fucking rich guy hero, too. But the comic books never emphasized all that gaudy rich guy bullshit with Batman...in fact, it seemed like a joke...some lame, but effective mask to hide behind (wealth) while on the streets he wuz taking down assholes with primitive equipment like "bat-erangs" (in "The Dark Knight Returns," they were razor tipped) and smoke bombs. Now we got this yuk yuk bullshit in the one of the commercials about how Bruce is gonna take the Lamborghini out for a spin. Right...because we needed another ponce like James Bond tooling around the silver screen. Meanwhile, every fucking frame that I've seen of Heath Ledger's Joker seems fascinating and just totally kickass. I think this is like when Milton made Satan more interesting the God. Sure, Satan's still gonna get his ass whupped by the end of the movie, but he's gonna be a fuck of a lot more entertaining than some rich douche bag in tights.

The TXB Review of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull"

It blows.

John McCain's Advice to Dems

On SNL this past weekend, the senator had this suggestion for the Democratic convention in August to choose a candidate for prez:

"I'd urge Democrats not to get caught up in the idea that the candidate has to be decided by the time the convention ends. I've been to a lot of conventions...and they're a lot of fun. But when they end, there's always that empty feeling of 'Oh well, we've picked a nominee. I guess the party's over.' Imagine the excitement of leaving the convention and still not knowing who the nominee was. That would be crazy! Crazy exciting!"

Fucked Headline of the Day

From the Huffington Post...

"Politics: Suddenly Better Than Sex?"

TXB response: In what fucking universe are you living? It's not even better than breakfast.

Note to Senator Clinton

Which part didn't you understand...the "buh" or the "bye"?

Alternate Headline: Brush Thinks He's Still President

And now, it's time for another entry in the "Is This Guy For-Fucking-Real?" files. I am completely ready to see the fake headline below become a real headline before Brush leaves office. There is no doubt in my mind that it could happen. Reality and facts mean absolutely shit fuck all to this administration. The fake headline links, tho', to an article that's equally absurd in detailing how Brush thinks the doormat Democrats are the cause of all our woes...sub-prime mortgage, gas crisis, everything. If you mean that they kowtowed to your every wish, assfuck, then yes: they shoulder a lot of blame. But just keep telling your deluded old Jesus-cursed brain that it's not at all the toilet called Iraq that has had multi-billions of dollars--every cent of which we borrowed--flushed down it. I mean, there can't be any possible correlation between high gas prices and a destabilized Middle East, right? The only shred of honest blame Brush could foist on Dems would run something like, "You fucking knew I wuz crazier than a shit-house rat! Why'd ya let me do all this stuff?!"

Brush Blames Dems For Illegal and Unnecessary Invasion of Iraq

"Say 'cheese'...okay, now say 'global thermonuclear war'"

I leave it for you to decide, gibblers: which is less sexy...Hill's picture here, or the boner she has for nuking Iran?

Theme: Man Versus Woman

And here’s another Comp II collaborative joint (different section):

Ends and Means

Frank left the Buick running. Sitting in his garage, he was hoping the fumes would kill him. The day before, he'd found out that his pregnant wife had been cheating on him with his brother. He didn't know what to do, and suicide seemed to be the way out. The only thing keeping him alive was his child. He knew he had to be there for his daughter, so he slowly pushed the button for the garage door to crack open. As the sunlight slowly seeped into the garage, he saw the figure of his wife standing before him on the other side. She had some bags of groceries, and he saw his daughter standing right behind her. Realizing that the only thing that meant something to him was standing there, he got out of the car and hugged his daughter. As he felt her arms wrap around his neck, all his worries for a moment seemed to melt away. He looked over and saw his wife…by the look in her eyes, she knew he knew. “I think we need to talk,” she said.

“Talk. Why the hell do we need to talk? I am my own man,” he said. As Frank was yelling, he clutched his side and fell over dead. Frank’s wife looked down with a sly smile on her face. The smile told the story of how the poison she had placed in his daily morning coffee had done its job and killed the man she once loved so dearly. Frank’s wife took the little girl’s hand, stepped over Frank’s cooling body, and went inside to put away the groceries.