Evangelical Toddler Just As Disturbing As Adult Evangelicals!

Holy holy Jesus Christ. What the fuck have we done to ourselves? You died for our sins (supposedly), and we--the deeply flawed human race--in turn, have created an utterly horrific mockery of it all. Apparently, it's not enough for some of us to pack together in large, crowded buildings and subject ourselves to the lunatic rantings of some self-adorned idiot interpreter of your gospels. No, now that duty has fallen onto the shoulders of those self-adorned idiots' children. And the result is positively satanic. I defy any of you to watch this and not want to punt this sermon-sponge into St. Peter's merely for his own sake. For humanity's sake. I defy you!!

I Found This...

...here in Atlanta. It was just sitting on the side of the road in Edgewood along with a bunch of trash. I couldn't believe it, either. A perfectly good and legally binding "contrack" for a "mind blowing orgasm" on 3/4 of a crumpled paper plate--just tossed aside like so much garbage. Waste not, want not, indeed. 

No Reality TV For Me (Or Christin)

That's because we were...

(booming echo sound fades out)

Yes, if you haven't heard, apparently neither I nor my girlfriend are good enough, smart enough or badass enough to make it as contestants on a reality TV show that's coming out this fall. It's called ESTATE OF PANIC and it's being produced for the Sci-Fi network by the same guys who did Fear Factor and Wipe Out. And just by writing that, I've probably opened myself up to a million dollar lawsuit for breaking the non-disclosure agreements we signed.

But I don't give a Nielsen rating shit break. Because I want the truth out there. And that is, they...um...didn't pick us. That's it, really. Long story short: we were loafing around in Los Angeles when our friend Becky forwarded us the info about the open casting call. We sent an email or two, and before we knew, we were driving to downtown Burbank to go interview with the casting people. Both Christin and I took our turn in front of a camera and a couple of interviewers, filled out some paperwork and that was it. They saaaaaaid "they'd call us!!!" They saaaaaaaid "they loved us!!!" They saaaaaaaaaid "You can leave now." But apparently, that's all Hollywood-ese for "please, go fuck yourself and disappear back into a strip mall somewhere far, far away." 

I know what you're thinking: "Ben, why on earth would you want to be on a reality show?" And believe you me, we axed ourselves the same question. But the answer is clear in this case: a free trip to Argentina. That's where they're filming this thang. And apparently, they wanted contestants who very competitive and very much afraid of insects. From what we could glean, they were going to stick people in some spooky "estate" and subject them to a bunch of spooky stuff, namely bugs. And if you couldn't already tell, they really are big on the bug thing. Huge. They wanted people who would shit their pants at the sight of a cockroach. Being the type of person who's completely unable to bullshit in this kind of situation, I told them that my biggest fear was not insects, but was actually guns. Idiots with guns, to be precise. And that's true. 

In fact, I kind of love insects. We took care of one this summer. Actually, his name is Bug. And I made a pretty picture of him. The folks at Sci-Fi will just have to get by with this...