I’ve probably just concluded a record amount of backspacing and deleting in a single document as far as my writing career goes. It was brought up that I was more than welcomed, and in fact encouraged, to write up a few or as many words as I wanted on the subject of the passing of “The American Dream” Dusty Rhodes. Yes, this is an article that involves a professional wrestler, and if that fact has caused you to scoff, roll your eyes, or do that annoying heavy sniff that people do, then I offer my sincere apologies. It’s very unfortunate that an accident or birth defect caused your head to be firmly planted so deeply into your ass. This is a write-up about a pro “wrassler,” but it’s also about a legend, a hero, and by all accounts an all around good man.
Now I said I had a lot typed up that I deleted, and that’s true. I purposefully waited a bit after the news broke to write anything on this subject, as I wanted to let it all sink in and approach the writing process with a calm head and at least my usual half-assed sort of organization. There have been a lot of matter-of-fact, respectful-yet-emotionless pieces written on Big Dust, and the more I read my “calm, cool-headed” draft, the more I realized I was writing just another fluff piece. While not disparaging in any way, it failed to express my true feelings over this legend and over our tremendous loss. So whatever follows after this sentence is simply one man spewing forth whatever comes to his mind as rapidly as it can possibly be expressed, without a care for whether or not it really makes any sense at all. In other words this is in a fashion befitting Dusty, a man who never experienced a moment of second guessing if something he said made any earthly sense.
starring Marlene Dietrich
Quiescent: (adj.) being at rest; quiet; still; inactive or motionless
You know how there are words out there for highly specific emotions? Like adronitis, the frustration over how long it takes to get to know someone. Or liberosis, the desire to care less about things. Is there a word for that feeling you get when you believe that there must be alternate realities that exist closely in space to your own reality, so close that they are ALMOST your reality, and that reality is that your real dad is cartoon buffoon Hong Kong Phooey? Does that even make sense? Great.
Well, since I was a very small child, I have had this feeling occasionally. And as I’ve aged, the feeling has lessened a bit, but it’s still there inside of me, shaping my personality to some extent.
Unlike other forms of insanity I probably have, this one can be traced directly to my mother. For as long as I’ve lived, my mother has always told this story about how she and some of the rest of my extended family took my older brother, then an only child, to see a Hanna-Barbera Icecapades show. While there, Hong Kong Phooey apparently took a liking to her and showed his ardor by sitting on her lap and dragging her from the audience to dance with her in front of everyone. She concludes this oft-told story by saying, “And then, nine months later, Amanda was born.” Everyone laughs. Everyone always laughs. But once upon a time, I believed her. I was too young to understand that my mom might be kidding, but apparently old enough to catch the implication that Hong Kong Phooey was my real dad.
It turns out that if you start life thinking that you are half-cartoon, it kind of sticks with you, there in the middle, for all of the rest of your life. I mean, I know I am not actually a half-cartoon! Don’t send me to the asylum yet. Anyway, it would clearly have been an actor dressed up like Hong Kong Phooey, not the real poorly-animated dog. It would be like thinking that Santa and Mall Santas are the same thing. No! Regardless, in my idle time, I start to wonder what my alternate reality life must be like, the one where HKP was not an absentee father. Let’s look at my art therapy session.
Do you like Seinfeld, trivia, and board games? Chances are pretty good that you do.
Now that Seinfeld is on Hulu (yes, all of it), here I am, providing you with information about a much-needed Seinfeld accessory. What good is loving it, if you can’t prove it to your friends?
This isn’t just a trivia game, it’s a board game, meaning it is the best of both worlds in nerdery. The game boasts more than 500 trivia questions. The questions come in two forms: easy and hard. However, the difficulty differences are indistinguishable and whether you know the answer will be due to a combination of chance, having even seen that episode (if you’re not a super fan), and memory skills.
There are a lot of celebrities in the world. Thousands of them! And you can’t really always keep track of what they’re up to. Eddie Murphy is super-famous, right? He’s practically an icon: a symbol of a certain kind of popular comedy. But I had no idea that he had so many children. In today’s comic, this discovery takes AlexT and me on a journey of thought from horror to imaginative consideration to unrealistic demands to impatience. We must never forget that children are a burden and time is valuable. Click to enlarge.
What’s this? The same picture. No, now it’s YOUR picture.
Color us in! Here is a classic Sneer Campaign image, featuring Dollissa and Amandoll for you to design, color, scribble on, and crumple up. Do with us what you will, then show us! If you want to see the original picture, you can find it here: Overindulgent Self-Portrait. As usual, click to make it bigger (and to download and print).
Fred Astaire, American dancing gentleman, is a well-known figure of classic cinema. His films are comfortingly formulaic; you can expect light humor, charming romance, catchy music, and impressive dance routines no matter which of his offerings you happen to be watching. He kept a dedicated team of writers on hand to create hit after hit throughout the 1930s. And indeed, he and his buddy Ginger Rogers starred in these hits, winning awards and creating an on-screen LEGACY.
However, not all of the scripts that came to the table were accepted.
In the year 1935, it was proposed to Astaire and Rogers that they should work together once again in another musical romantic comedy following the patterns of their prior successes. However, this time it would be an historical musical romantic comedy! Plague Year.
Over the weekend, glad tidings were bestowed upon the saurian actor known as Benedict Cumberbatch and his supposedly human wife, Sophie Hunter, as their baby pod finally hatched. An unknown amount of time had passed since the fertilization of the lady, and now Earth has a new alien prince in its midst. All hail the Cumberbaby!
As always, sneer campaign has been blessed with a sitting for baby’s first formal portrait in his true shape. Yesterday, he was a perfectly scaled miniature of his adult form. Today, he has learned to take on the appearance of a human pollywog. Soon, he will look more or less like a normal human baby.
Don’t be fooled!
Congratulations to the House of Cumberbatch! Long may your spawn rule this planet.
For more than 5 years I worked in a café serving coffees, sandwiches, sushi, and even Ovaltine. But mostly, I served bubble tea. After so long, nothing took longer than anything else (except sushi, which was later retired at my workplace) and I couldn’t have possibly cared what people did or didn’t order. I loved the job, worked whenever I could, made friends with coworkers and customers, and even spent most of my off-time there. But some things that customers did… some were just too much to handle.
Here I present to you, The Worst Things. Now I know that some of these things may even sound almost normal, if encountered rarely and reasonably. It didn’t happen that way! This is all the time, consistent, terrible.
Taking Forever to Order
Okay, it’s a café. Why don’t you already know what you wanted? Why did you come in? Did you want a coffee? Say coffee, I’ll get you one so fast it’ll make your head spin. Or did you want a bubble tea? I can make three at a time, just pick the damn flavor. We always have the same ones, most places do.
I would try to solve this one in a friendly way, by offering to recommend a drink, but that usually just resulted in a series of increasingly difficult decisions, such as iced or hot, or small or large. We would both get frustrated. At one point, for the bubble teas, we built a spinning wheel to choose flavors. Customers loved it! They would spin and then decide that they wanted the same thing they always get instead. Problem solved.
It’s honeybee swarm season! What does that mean? That it’s springtime! And almost summer. And that if you see a honeybee swarm, don’t be scared! They are just finding a new home and won’t hurt you, probably. (Sneer Campaign can not guarantee that you will never get stung by a bee.)
Here at Sneer Campaign we are fond of bees. Bees are the little musical friends of the sky, zipping around and softly buzzing through the summer breeze. They spend their time bringing us flowers and produce, as a byproduct of their tasty pollen diet. I’m sure we’ve all seen Bee Movie, so there’s no need to explain that bees run the world.
Over the years (yes, years!) we have compiled our favorite bee songs. Songs about bees, songs that mention bees, songs that remind us of bees, and even a few songs about honey. We hope that you enjoy them. We recommend sipping on an iced tea, relaxing with a cat, and staring up at the trees and clouds while you listen. Just kidding! Have a coffee.