Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor | Pye in the Face

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

Archives for September 2004

Moynihan And The Sweedish Think Tank Timbro.


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Looking eerily like K.D. Lang, Pye in the Face reader and friend Michael Moynihan held court recently at a Think Tank Timbro forum on the sad state of Swedish journalism. Mike is a Libertarian living in Sweden and began publishing his own conservative newspaper, The Spectator, back in April. The aim of which is to provide an alternative to the country’s current flagrant liberal media spin – and the paper has recently exposed examples of plagarism amongst some of Sweden’s more prominent political columnists.

To say that Mike’s paper has been getting a lot of attention in Swedish journalism and political circles would be putting it mildly. “The paper comes out April 1st and my apartment should be on fire April 2nd.” The perception of a Libertarian in Sweden can be compared to a fully-regailed Klansman at a Jay-Z concert, so I applaud him for sticking up for his beliefs and for putting a remarkable dent in Sweden’s former anti -U.S. comfort zone. Shake ’em up, Mike.

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Calling My Caricature Into Question.


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I can remember being called a joker, a clown and a buffoon at various times in my life. But never a cartoon. That is…. UNTIL NOW:

We had these done for our website at work, and before seeing it this morning I was very skeptical as to the outcome. I had one done at The Perth Garlic Festival a month ago where I looked like one of the Gallagher brothers from Oasis and it was scary. The cartoonist asked my sister what I like – you know, so she could incorporate it into the drawing. Janet replied “beer and cheap women”. Now, while I’m not exactly protesting that description, the caricature came out like ka-ka and I was left wondering “Do I really resemble the same person who wrote Wonderwall?” It was a shock, as I usually get Ron Livingston or Brendan Fraser which I can deal with.

And about three years ago I went to this strange party in the North End. This independantly wealthy, and very strange, socialite was having a party in her apartment which was a converted warehouse across from Joe Tecce’s. She’d paid a cartoonist to come in and draw all of her guests. Now, I don’t know if said artist was stoned out of his gourd, or if I actually resembled a handicapped Aztec that night – but the drawing was another disaster.

I quite like this one. I’m going to use it as my blogger profile image, methinks. If anyone needs similar Boston area caricature work done for whatever strange reason, email this guy. He’s good.

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30 Tall Tales #3: The Great Colonel Sanders Heist


in Reminiscent

There have been many memorable thefts, robberies and heists throughout human history. The 1963 Great Train Robbery in England. The Boston Brinks Job which occurred around the corner from my North End apartment in 1950. And the lesser known 1996 pilfering of the cardboard likeness of one certain southern gentleman and fried chicken magnate – Colonel Harland Sanders – from the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Stone Road in Guelph, Ontario.

We were young, and we were tacky. Our house was plastered with beer paraphenalia and movie posters. Many of us were also usually plastered. Our kitchen boasted two huge wall hangings – Bob Marley and De Niro in Taxi Driver. We had a portrait of all the house’s inhabitants hanging prominently in the front hall. The addition of Harlan didn’t seem like such an aesthetic stretch when JJV called a house meeting and hatched his evil plan on that cold day in March. A plan to snatch the Colonel right out of his own sanctuary – KFC.

Jason had been in the KFC earlier that same day, and had immediately become smitten with the life size cardboard cut out of Colonel Sanders which greeted customers just inside the front door. The plan was simple. A textbook snatch-n-grab. Nick, Richie, J and I would pull up behind a fence which bordered the back KFC parking lot. We’d wait in my van, with the engine running, while J ran inside and liberated the Colonel’s effigy.

We thought the plan would go off without a hitch… so it was a good thing that it did. J ran into the restaurant wearing a black wool toque and his best Canadian Tuxedo (full denim ensemble). There was a young girl working behind the counter, and several people waiting off to the side for their orders. Jason simply said “Hello” before grabbing the Colonel, folding him in half and darting back out the front door.

We waited back in the car and snapped some photos of his escape. I peeled out of there like Jim Rockford himself was in hot pursuit, and we took the long way back to 113 Janefield to make sure we weren’t followed. Why we thought that the police, Kentucky Fried Mercenaries or anyone else would be interested in chasing 4 shitheads for a piece of cardboard is beyond me all these years later. But it sure was fun.

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Sears Portrait Studio Will Never Be The Same.


in Reminiscent

… and then there was the time we decided it would be a good idea to head on down to Sears Portrait Studio to have a house photo done. So we did. They didn’t all make the final cut, though. Here are two of the deleted scenes.

In this first one, JJV, Nick, Ray-Ray, Richie and I decided on a prop theme. As the photographer, used to snapping babies and families, watched in horror – we looted through her prop chest and came up with some doozies. I think Ray-Ray still has the camisole.

This next one affectionately became known as “The one where Ray looks like he has down syndrome”. If it were not for that fact, I think this would have been the one we selected for the framed portrait.

And finally, here is the one we chose to have blown up and framed. It hung in our front hall and greeted our guests for 3 years. Guests who usually then shook their heads and said things like “You guys are sooooooo retarded”. This became known as the Goodfellas pose, although I look more frightened than mean. Venditti looks like, well, Venditti. Nick pulls off the “mean Greek” look fairly well, and Ray-Ray and Richie also look convincingly menacing.

Those were good days, boys. Thanks for the memories.

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Separated At Birth? Robert Downey Jr. and Slick.


in Reminiscent

My friend and former Guelph roomate, one Slick, has scanned and emailed me a bunch of photos from those crazy years, many of which I’ll be sharing here on the site. Now, you probably remember when Robert Downey Jr. was arrested for the first time back in 1996. Due to the frenzied media coverage, the inhabitants of 113 Janefield Ave couldn’t help but notice Slick’s startling resemblance to the fallen star. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Robert Downey Slick Jr.

Luckily, the bags under Slick’s eyes stem from many all night study sessions and not the freebasing of crack cocaine in stranger’s homes. Well, at least that’s what he told us.

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Frightening Personal Injury Attorney Facts


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I’m currently building a website about Personal Injury Law and lawyers, and I’ve run across some insane settlements and lawsuits. Employers, drivers, babysitters beware. In fact, maybe don’t go outside any more.

– $875,000 was awarded to a man who broke his leg in a car accident. I broke my leg once at a keg party at Tony MacPhee’s house in 1992. Tony I know you read this site – I want some cash, please.

– $1,800,000 went to a construction worker who fell off a defective lift and hurt his back. I hurt my back playing football against Deerfield academy in 1992 (OK, so it was a rough year). Deerfield, cough it up. Lots of it.

– $200,000 was pissed away by a company for a woman who claimed she’d gotten arthritis from using a mouse every day for 5 years. Somewhere, there’s a Personal Injury Attorney sipping a Pina on a beach who paid for the trip with that cash. Incredible. I’m on my computer so much, I should be entitled to twice that. And a girlfriend.

– $1,000,000 was forked over to a man who suffered a freakin’ dog bite. That dog must have been loaded. Rolling in cash. And it’s own feces. I was bitten by a nasty little dog named “Pawnee” when I was a kid in Prince Edward Island. I bent over to say hello and the little bastard jumped straight into the air and snapped my nose. The dog’s owner apologized and gave me a lobster (I actually liked lobster back then) and that was good enough for me. I’m a personal injury attorney or lawyer’s wet dream. In retrospect, apparently they should have given me a house.

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Nessie And Rebecca Romjin.


in Monday's Quotelet

Appetizer: If someone gave you 3 new goldfish today, what would you name them?

Nemo, Orca and Nessie.

Soup: What’s the worst movie you’ve seen this year so far?

Farenheit 9-11.

Salad: If given the chance and you could pick the person, would you want to switch lives with someone on earth for one whole day?

You could pick someone you really hate and then jump off a bridge. Or pick the spouse of someone you really want to bang. Otherwise – I don’t see much point. I would have picked John Stamos up until a couple of months ago – for both reasons.

Main Course: What’s your favorite season? Name 2 things you love about it.

It’s always been Autumn. And I love “leaf peeping” and football.

Dessert: What is something you frequently buy that you don’t really need?

I don’t like this question. Nobody really needs anything. Except crack and insulin.

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Kissing His Balls: Funny 2004 Olympic Quotes.


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Folks, you should sit down for this. Apparently there exists someone with even more free time than myself. Below are some of my favorite blurts from a recently compiled list of the funniest commentator/athlete quotes from the 2004 Olympics. And with no further adue:

Tennis commentator: “One of the reasons Andy is playing so well is that, before the final round, his wife takes out his balls and kisses them . . . Oh my God, what have I just said?”

At the rowing medal ceremony: “Ah, isn’t that nice, the wife of the IOC president is hugging the cox of the British crew.”

Dressage commentator: “This is really a lovely horse and I speak from personal experience since I once mounted her mother.”

Weightlifting commentator: “This is Gregoriava from Bulgaria. I saw her snatch this morning during her warm up and it was amazing.”

There are few things on this earth more breathtaking than an amazing snatch. Read the full list here.

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Zell Miller’s Speech at the RNC


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I have previously vowed to keep this site bi-partisan, as political commentary is being done to death on every other blog in the Universe – and being done better. But I must reneg for a moment (heck, I gave the DNC plenty of coverage in July) and talk about Zell Miller’s speech last night in New York City at the Republican National Convention. He’s a Democratic Senator from Georgia and I don’t care who actually wrote this speech, but I’m linking to it because I’d like for y’all to read it. It echoes my own opinions on the state of the world right now, and why I firmly believe that regardless of your political leanings – change for change’s sake is an incredibly foolhardy idea at this moment in human history. Dig it.

“But don’t waste your breath telling that to the leaders of my party today. In their warped way of thinking America is the problem, not the solution.

They don’t believe there is any real danger in the world except that which America brings upon itself through our clumsy and misguided foreign policy.”

And I’m the King of France. And speaking of France, here’s my favorite excerpt:

“Senator Kerry has made it clear that he would use military force only if approved by the United Nations.

Kerry would let Paris decide when America needs defending.

I want Bush to decide.”

Read it for yourself.

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Women’s Olympic Beach Volleyball: Yes, Please.


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It’s commonly accepted that beach volleyball originated in Santa Monica when nets were put up on a beach near the playground in 1920. Since then, its popularity has grown in leaps and bounds – and on September 21st 1993, the International Olympic Committee granted Beach Volleyball Olympic medal status. Much to the chagrin of feminists and sandcastles everywhere.

Earlier this year Margareta Winberg, the former Swedish minister for equality, said of Women’s Olympic Beach Volleyball “This is not sport. This is sex-fixated entertainment”. Well, duh.

She’s got a valid point. But the men play in Speedos, the male equivalent of a bikini, and I don’t hear any women complaining about that. So I looked into some statistics: Men are allowed to play volleyball in shorts and speedos, while women are not allowed to wear bikini bottoms that have side seams that are broader than seven centimetres. So the rules for women don’t set a limit on the skimpiness of a bikini, but rather the opposite – they are required to keep their attire sufficiently jiggly and revealing. Those vicious Olympic bastards.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. OK, I’m lying. I’m a big fan. Did anyone else see the issue of Playboy with the nude pics of Gabriella Reece in it? Women Volleyball players have exceptional bodies. Kerry Walsh (pictured above) has a six pack that would make Schwartzenegger jealous. Since Walsh is from California, maybe Arnold could invite her to the Governor’s Mansion and get a few quick crunch tips. That is, of course, if she could stand all the Austrian grab-ass that would be sure to ensue.

Dead or Alive Xtreme Beach Volleyball had pre-pubescent boys drooling all over their X-Box’s last year and became one of 2003’s top selling titles, and their fathers and older brothers were undoubtedly in the next room watching the real thing intently on ESPN8. But let’s not forget about Mom and Aunt Bunny upstairs in the den watching the men’s competition and sucking on Rocket Pops.

This reeks of a reverse double standard. I say equal-opportunity salivating is completely acceptable. If the men’s uniform was a three-piece woolen business suit, Mrs. Winberg – the Rocket Pops would be on me.

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