Simpsonized for your pleasure

Mark as himself and as a Simpsons characterOkay, this is more of a game about pleasuring yourself, with the help of the Simpsons. You can go upload a photo of yourself, and the gizmo will magically turn you into a Simpsons character.

Just in case you’re wondering how accurate this thingy is, here is my own photo and the Simpsonized version. The only non-gizmo Photoshopping I did was to my shirt, to make it look more like a mock turtleneck.

Of course, this is how I actually think I would look if I was a Simpsons character. You can make your avatar here.
Mark with a Fez

(Like you hadn’t already found all this stuff on your own, but just in case …)

The movie is good fun, though it lacks some of the bite of the earlier seasons. The first time I ever saw the Simpsons, I didn’t even experience it in English and I still became a fan. I was living in Prague, and my brother came for a visit and we’d gone for a hiking holiday in the Beskedy Mountains. We were staying at a little “guest house” there (actually, I think they might have scouted it as the setting for Hostel II), but they had a satellite dish, and a TV. (And very few dismemberments.)

The locals were all laughing at the cartoon, and I said, “I wonder what that is?”

“You’ve never watched the Simpsons?” my brother asked, incredulous. (Actually, I’m not sure how I’d missed it all those years.)

So, he translated, even though he didn’t speak a word of Czech. He’d seen the episode — the one where Homer saves Bart from trying to jump the canyon on his skateboard and ends up going over himself: Bart the Daredevil. [wiki] (Incidentally, Matt Groening once said this episode was his favorite episode.)

“I’m going to make it! I’m going to make it! This is the greatest thrill of my life, I’m king of the world! Woo! Wooo! I se– ahhhhoooooooooooowwwww!”

Hilarious. Even with my brother doing the voice work, not Dan Castellaneta. [clip here at YouTube.]

Professor Quippy: Orang-urades

Professor QuippyIt’s the latest party craze, sweeping the world. Rent your very own orang-utans for an exciting evening of orang-urades.

It has all the frustration and social complexity of a regular game of charades, but none of the confusing book, movie, or TV-show categories.

Okay, one word, three syllables . . . first syllable, starts with … b?

“B”. Banana? Is it banana? It is? Excellent! Wooo!

Team Banana wins again! You suck Team Celery!

New Scientist Story: Orang-utan communication is like charades

Bathtime Follies

bathtime folliesBelinda was a notorious cheapskate, who was cloned from an ancient line of DNA; not of any single species, Belinda’s DNA was a chimera of strands originating with proto-humans from places that are evocative of myth, names to conjure past skinflint history with: Belgium, Holland, & Scotland.

This was pertinent because she refused to pay even the most perfunctory fee charged by the Suicide Booth Conglomerate.

From Toulouse Le Grandfig in the Land of the Future.

C.H.U.D.-o-Rama!

This short list of naughty US TV and radio station call letters got me thinking. I wonder if there is a similar list of blue Canadian stations somewhere? All I could find was the available call letters list here(as PDF). However, the list is very exciting, if you want to start CHUD radio here in Canada:

“Hey, hey, you’re listening to CHUD, all cannibalistic, humanoid, underground-dwelling radio, all the time! At least until they break through the floor and start nibbling on our buuums!

And speaking of cannibals, Onegoodmove has a nice Jon Stewart clip about the new British PM, Gordon “Eat the Blair” Brown.

Ask General Kang: I’ve just started high school, and I wonder, how I can improve my self-esteem?

Ask General KangSome researchers will tell you that self-esteem is heavily influenced by things you will have no control over, such as your looks, and how “cool” you are seen to be by your peers.

And popularity too.

Now, if I’d let such trifles get in my way, I never would have conquered most of the known galaxy. You may not know it to look at me, particularly you hairless humans, but for an uber-chimp, I’m somewhat less hirsute than the Neecknabian ideal.

And in high school, I looked positively glabrous. That might be a good thing in Hollywood gay bars, but at Commander Chee-bee High, not good. (Commander Chee-bee was the Hero of the Spider Wars, inventor of the “brush and flush” battle maneuver, for those of you not up on the glorious history of Planet Neecknaw.) But did I obsess over the patches of skin you could see through my thin layer of hair?

Of course I did! It was high school.

But I used it. I drove the rage deep inside and it helped me overcome the Neecknabian Senate, using nothing but guile, a bathtub filled with depilatory, and several squads of insanely loyal, bald gorilloids with halitosis and broadswords. (Later these stalwarts became the Gorilloids-with-Fezes Brigade.)

When I was undisputed master of all of Planet Neecknaw, my old high school chums understood who was popular, and who wasn’t.

Then the forced shavings began.

Next time: I just bought a ten-kilometer long spaceship with enough firepower to obliterate a small moon. Do you think it will look like I’m over-compensating for something?