Ah, Japan. You are the gift that keeps on giving.

A quick google reveals that this is from an actual show in Japan, one called THE ANCIENT DOGOO GIRL, and it took over ULTRAMAN’s primetime slot last fall.

That’s right. This shit airs in primetime over in Japan.

It’s hard to say what I like the most about this clip. Is it Dogu-chan’s weaponized breasts which magically incinerate the koi ogre? No.

It’s also not the part where Dogu-chan handily defeats the mob of frightened townspeople horny menfolk pissed off because she’s destroyed the only thing that could give them koi (passion). She doesn’t incinerate them, though; her rack-of-all trades also comes equipped with stun beams, and allows her to simply knock them all out — much like Mantenna could do on SHE-RA: PRINCESS OF POWER. Except he used his eyes, not his boobies.

No, my favorite part of this clip comes at the very end, which finds our heroine celebrating the victory with friends over a bowl of rice, and she eats the fucking chopsticks.

Hey, Japan — we’ll trade you a DANCING WITH THE STARS or AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL or something for this one.

Let me know.

The Victoria Theatre has announced its “Michelob Ultra Cool Films” slate for this summer:

Each summer, the silver screen takes center stage. Our annual summer film series presents films from the classic era of Hollywood. A different Hollywood classic runs each weekend in July and August in the air-conditioned comfort of the Victoria Theatre.

I went to one of these a year or two ago, but I don’t recall what I saw. I think it might’ve been MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL. It’s a fun time, though. The Victoria is a comfy theater, and there’s free popcorn and soda. Tickets are only five bucks, too, so it’s a good deal overall.

Nice to see CASABLANCA and ANIMAL HOUSE included on the list, and not just the typical, boring offerings like THE MUSIC MAN, MY FAIR LADY, and FIDDLER ON THE ROOF. Those are fine films, and I don’t believe any of them have been shown in the Cool Films of yesteryear . . . however, they’re also, in my opinion, the sort of stereotypical films that usually get included on lists of “classics” like the Cool Films series. Diversity is nice, is all I’m saying.

Hmm. Speaking of diversity, it seems the Victoria’s also stepped up this year and finally showing some old school summer blockbusters in the form of the INDIANA JONES trilogy. (Yes, I said “trilogy” and not “tetralogy.” As far as I’m concerned, the most recent Indy movie never happened.) I caught RAIDERS and TEMPLE last year when the Regal briefly flirted with airing films of yore, but wouldn’t mind seeing them again on the silver screen.

Good show, Victoria — you earned my business again. I full-well intend to hit up the Indy movies and CASABLANCA. Now if only they’d include JAWS and THE PRINCESS BRIDE in next year’s slate.

Took in a midnight showing of IRON MAN 2 last night with Jason and Jennifer. I hadn’t been to a midnight showing of a movie in several years, the last time being for REVENGE OF THE SITH. So . . . five years ago? Yeah.

The theater was packed, and hot and sweaty inside. I don’t think they turned on the air conditioner until midway through the movie. We got there about an hour before it began, so I was able to observe a number of people as they entered the theater.

Man, was it a self-esteem boost.

Between this guy who had fantasy nerd long hair and was wearing sweatpants and a fanny pack, and a short fat Hobbit kid clad in a 6XL Dragonball t-shirt, I felt like even I could start beating people up and taking their lunch money if I wanted to. I’m sure they’re good people, though . . . good people whose lunch money could’ve been mine!

The film itself was very good, much better than I had anticipated. The casting was spot-on: Downey, Rourke, and Rockwell dominated the scenes they were in, and hell — even Scarlett Johansson was eminently believable as the Black Widow. (And hot. Boy, was she hot.) The pacing was excellent, especially compared to the first, which at times kind of dragged a bit (e.g., the terrorist camp scene, the big fight at the end). What really makes these movies work, however, is the humor — specifically the humor that Downey seems to effortlessly generate in every scene he’s in. And this movie had it in spades.

Overall, IRON MAN 2 is a worthy follow-up to the original.

(This isn’t really the beginning to anything in particular, just something I wrote a couple of months back as a sort of warm-up before delving into PG. I liked it, though, so I now I share it with you.)

Alison Venture was a badass.

At least that’s what she liked to tell herself. In her more private moments, when she was in an introspective mood, she knew that this was less than true.

Her badassness — or badassitude, if you will — was actually a front, a cloak she would don when she was working. It allowed her to face all the nastiness and evil — human and otherwise — in the world, and overcome it. But underneath it, she was just a nervous and mildly self-conscious 24 year old girl.

As she hung upside down, wrists and ankles bound, over a grated pit of alligators, it occurred to her that her current line of thought was probably not the best or most conducive to her survival.

So the cloak went back on.

“Look,” she said. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, but I’m starting to get a little bored. And my head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. Is there any chance that you might just get this over with already and kill me?”

The old man puttering around her prison chuckled, a phlegmy sound. “Oh, you are quite funny. I know my pets will enjoy your sense of humor as they rip you apart and devour you.”

Well, this is interesting.

It seems that two guys by the name of Elton Jaundice and Cornelius Talmadge — and who are in no way whatsoever myself and Nate — have launched a web site called There Are Four Lights, where they are posting something called “Star Trek Interludes.”

The site appears to have started up last summer some time, but didn’t actually start updating till last month. Jaundice attempted to explain what was going on, though he was a bit cagey and mysterious about it:

Starting tomorrow, the sordid tales that bear the moniker“”Star Trek Interludes””will begin to make their way to the Web for your filthy enjoyment. Assuming I am not incarcerated, a new Interlude should be posted to the tune of once a week, most likely on Wednesday or Thursday. There is a vast archive of Interludes, some quite old, so this endeavor should be able to proceed for some time. Tomorrow’s is fittingly themed around the tired “holiday” of St. Patrick’s Day still celebrated by the ignorant masses.

Also: my cohort, Mister Cornelius Talmadge, will not be posting any of the Interludes for the foreseeable future, even though many of them were written by him. The reasons are various and sundry, but mostly revolve around the fact that his current whereabouts are unknown. My sincerest hope is that, much like myself, he is simply living “off the grid,”” so to speak, and is in good health and spirits. Still, doubts as to his safety linger, as the last time anyone saw him was well before Hallowe’en, by a bartender at a pub Rio de Janeiro.

He goes on for a bit longer, but it’s a little convoluted, so if you want to read more, I suggest you visit the site.

A new Interlude went up earlier today. Here is a brief excerpt:

(Recovered from the Hello Kitty diary of Cornelius Talmadge.)

“I got dem blues,” wailed Worf. “I got dem Tactical monitoring, Picard bossin’-around blues. I got dem –”

“Shut up, Worf!” shouted Picard. “I swear by everything holy that I’ll hang your sorry Klingon ass on my wall if you don’t shut the fuck up now!”

“Sorry, sir. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little sissy parade.”

“That’s it.” Picard stood up and ran to the viewscreen. He turned, and performed a Super-Twisty Flying Kick. He sailed through the air, finally impacting into Worf’s face.

“Augh! There’s a rock in your shoe!” Worf began to cry.

Picard put his hand on Worf’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“You didn’t have to kick me so hard.”

“Look, let’s go play Parise Squares in the holodeck.”

“Really?” Worf looked up.

“Yep. We can even knock out Riker and use him for target practice.”

“Hey!” Riker yelled.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for my Number One friend.”

Eh, this one was pretty good. There are better ones, however — at least in my opinion — over at the site. Overall, I’d say the whole endeavor seems promising.

Looks like they also have a Facebook page dedicated to the Interludes. I decided to throw them a bone and joined it. Because I’m a nice guy.

It’s Saturday night, I have a headache, and am feeling distinctly antisocial. Which makes it the perfect time to stay in and organize the last four years’ worth of comic books that have been threatening to take over my closet.

They’re currently in a big, randomly stacked mess. I’ve just been tossing current issues as I get them on top of the pile, and it’s gotten a bit out of hand. I figure with me moving in a couple of months, it’s probably time to do something about it.

Updated: There. Got them all separated and numerically sequenced.

Now I just have to make room in my boxes for these bastards. Which will involve substantially reorganizing the boxes as well.

. . . methinks I might’ve taken on too much work for night.

Sigh. Fucking obsessive-compulsive need to organize stuff.

I have yet to read the most recent Dresden Files book, CHANGES, but I’m very curious as to how exactly it ends, because Jim Butcher was posting some cryptic stuff earlier today on Twitter, such as:

Honestly, I don’t get it. Cliffhangers are when you DON’T know what happens.

I stand by my earlier reasoning. Not a cliffhanger when you know the outcome.

And I make the first concealed quote from book 13, GHOST STORY, baZING.

The title? Implying something? Would I do that to you guys?

Yeah, GHOST STORY? Seriously?

Even though I can’t wait to read CHANGES, something tells me that when I’m finished with it I’m going to be very salty about having to wait another year for the next book.

Went to a Reds game last night, my first of the season, with the Krew (the Krew in this case consisting of Brandon, Krystel, Ryan, and Justin). It was colder than balls, and at one point I was slightly worried that hypothermia might set in, but I lived through it, sadly.

The game itself was something of a nail biter. Despite committing a hundred errors in the ninth inning and doing their damnedest to hand the win to the Cubs, the Reds still managed to triumph, largely due to an eighth inning grand slam by Drew Stubbs. It couldn’t had been more perfectly timed.

I am pleased that it is baseball season again.

Finally! Today’s xkcd imagines a Hell I can behind.