This is the End

LOBO -Predator Press

A mere fifteen minutes after the freezing sweat started, I yelled a six dollar coffee into the toilet.

Ebola

This is a problem, because I am supposed to meet my friends to go to a rare festival; tickets were really expensive.

Smallpox

I barely made it to Rachel and Gina's bathroom. Mine is upstairs.

Bubonic plague

"Go on without me," I text the group valiantly.

Cholera

Alternating from fever and chills, I strip naked and start the showers, hoping to sort of 'regulate' my temperature.

Bird Flu

Suddenly feeling the need to sneeze, I scroll off some toilet paper. But, inhaling deeply before sneezing, the loose tail of the toilet paper shoots down my throat -I am now choking to death on a piece of toilet paper.

Smallpox

Self-applied Heimlich maneuvers busted my forehead on the marble. Now bleeding, I sunk to the floor, a blob of wet toilet paper stuck on the mirror.

Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia

Nobody will be home for days.  How will this be explained?

Cyanide Poisoning  (fuck you Nicolas Cage)

Reaching up to the sink, I fumbled for my cell phone, knocking off a makeup powder case which exploded everywhere when it hit the floor.  My naked sweaty body starts taking on the COVERGIRL mist.

Anthrax

"Well," I resolved. "This is exactly how I pictured it."

Behind the Scenes: Nyota Uhura

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Life began unspectacularly for Nyota Uhura. And after years of hard work, she was set to graduate top of her cosmetology class. But due to a typographical error, she was recruited to the starship Enterprise as Captain Kirk’s Communications Officer and Chief Exfoliator.

“Communications Officer,” however, would be a sad irony for Nyota as she was wildly dyslexic: during Romulan and Klingon attacks she would run up and down the ship screaming, “Trela Der! Trela Der!” This directly led to the destruction of Enterprises I, II, V, Va, theVIIb, and the much ballyhooed IX.2 -as well as numerous models of the Reliant, a school bus, and at least four poorly-documented bicycles.

Soon thereafter, her arrest at a Star Trek convention for the assault of George Lucas made the papers worldwide. She would subsequently tell police, “I kept punching [Lucas] until my knuckles could feel the inside of the back of his head.” Uhura nonetheless denied any motivation involving the hot Star Trek v Star Wars rivalry. “I just wanted [Lucas] to stop making shitty movies. Somebody should have done that in 1983.”

Now experimenting with drugs, Uhura's behavior only became increasingly erratic. According to Wikipedia, “Star Trek III: The Search for Spock sees Uhura take an assignment in the transporter room as part of a plot to steal the Enterprise. After locking a colleague in a closet, Uhura uses the transporter station to beam Kirk, Leonard McCoy and Hikaru Sulu to the Enterprise so they can use it to rescue Spock from the Genesis Planet.”

Uhura’s prosecutors found this defense preposterous. “She locked a guy in a closet?“ said District Attorney Jorge Sackwood. “Okay. Forget that the future doesn’t even have bathrooms … but there is a closet in the Transporter Room? Why? Is it full of red shirts? Or is it simply there for Sulu to come out of?”

Disillusioned with her military career -and now hopelessly addicted to Fuzzy Navels and a myriad of over-the-counter cold medications- Uhura’s downward spiral would lead to feelance work with Vivid Entertainment. 2011 would see the release of a poorly-produced sex tape with NFL star Bret Lockett, something Uhura’s agent disavows as her having been “heavily intoxicated and exploited.” The agent would continue on to say, “Were she fully in command of her faculties at the time it never would have happened. She thought she was making a tape with Hines Ward.”

After an embarrassing appearance on History Channel’s Pawn Stars in an attempt to sell her tricorder and phaser, Ohura finally caught a romantic break and started dating Corey "Big Hoss" Harrison. And because she never did a film with Nicolas Cage or Rob Schneider, this was the same year she was awarded two Predator Press Oscars, six Predator Press Emmys, and three Predator Press Nobel Peace Prizes.

Ohura and Harrison intend to wed this year.

-As soon as they resolve the ongoing Tribble situation.

The Astronaut Whisperer

Predator Press

[LOBO]

After being struck by a landing space shuttle, air traffic controller Dirk Elway’s life is completely transformed: sunken into the bleak menthol fog of Nyquil and Altoids addiction, even his goldfish have run away.

Similarly one of the surviving astronauts on board that very same space shuttle goes crazy, buys a box of Depends, and rides across the country –ultimately killing everyone in Twentynine Palms California with a rake.

On a hunch, Clint Eastwood –a world-renown Astronaut Whisperer- gambles that Dirk and The Astronaut’s macabre killing spree are somehow linked; armed with nothing but a 32 oz jar of Tang and a walkie-talkie Clint makes contact, culling the rogue Astronaut and reuniting him with ailing Dirk … but soon thereafter Dirk is mysteriously killed by an overdose of rake to the back of the skull.

Can Clint teach The Astronaut to laugh and love again? Will The Astronaut once again claim his coveted spot in the London Symphony Orchestra? And how can The Astonaut's lowly new job of testing 747 engines by tossing live seagulls into them let him rise once again to his once-lofty astronaut status? Only time and a ragtag group of Baptist church choir enthusiasts led by Whoopi Goldberg can tell.

We here at Predator Press give The Astronaut Whisperer, like, ten big thumbs up: this is the surprisingly engaging tale of an astronaut beset by tragedy and a love for gardening, and Clint's dogged and relentless efforts to repair his broken and battered spirit.

Scheduled for release this summer, it’s an uplifting, fun and romantic little film that’s a must-see for the whole family.

Nicolas Cage is not in this movie.

Billy Mayes Dead

Predator Press

[LOBO]

According to Fox News, 'OxiClean' and 'Mighty Putty' pitchman Billy Mays, 50, was found dead Sunday morning.

That’s Ed McMahon, Farah Fawcett, Michael Jackson and Billy Mays in three days. They’re all in my thoughts and prayers.

-And so are explicit directions to Nicolas Cage’s house.

Shaking the Cage: Part III

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I love it! Equate Actor Relief Lotion is just as good as any other lotion I’ve tried on my baby sensitive skin (and lotions tend to break me out). I've fooled myself into thinking that the more expensive the brand the better, but let me tell you Equate Actor Relief Lotion works like a charm! It’s sterile and hypoallergenic like most franchises, and it helps already normally hard-hitting scripts go totally soft on contact.

Rating: A+!!

(Also available in Matthew McConaughey and Gwyneth Paltrow)

Shaking the Cage: Part II

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Okay. I’ve spent half of the morning trying to figure out what triggered the recent infiltration of Nicolas Cage on Predator Press, and I think I’ve traced it back to seeing a commercial for Bangkok Dangerous.

It turns out Nicolas Cage is in it.

So then I spent the other half of the morning compiling a list of movies Nicolas Cage is not in: I got Steel Magnolias (1989), Stroker Ace (1983), The Blue Lagoon (1980) and The Ten Commandments (1956).

But I can’t vouch for the veracity of this list. There’s a scene in Steel Magnolias where Clariee Belcher –played supposedly by Olympia Dukakis- is swaggerin around in cowboy boots and a receding hairline so I’m not 100% convinced.

So what is the reason for his glaring absence in these movies? I don’t know. I suspect before 1985 either a) he was too young, or 2) Hollywood was still seething with people that couldn’t act twice as good as Nicolas Cage.

Well that's all changed now.

And following this logic to it’s linear extreme, I’m forced to face the fact that there is an extremely high likelihood that when LOBO: the Motion Picture gets made, Nicolas Cage will be in it. In fact, now that I’ve gone on an unprecedented two-post rant about him he will have to be.

This means I have to scrub all the current posters and trailers which feature the tagline “Nicolas Cage is not in this movie” prominently.

–and/or numerous times.


Check out the Humor-Blogs Fantasy Football Blog!

Shaking the Cage

Predator Press

[LOBO]

First of all, I’m not really clear on why I’m so mad at Nicolas Cage.

I mean he did some great movies, right?

Right?

I mean there was Red Rock West and Con Air, and …

…um …

Wasn’t he in Armageddon?

No?

Alright. Then screw Nicolas Cage.

There isn’t enough room on this blog to complain at satisfactory levels about Nicholas Cage.

But this blog isn't about the proliferation of Nicolas Cage, nor the involuntary experience of seeing him everywhere.

Is it?

OMG Predator Press has just been infected by Nicolas Cage!

How the heck does he do that!?

-It's itchy!!!

Predator Press Reviews: Ghost Rider

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I don’t know why he does it, but once or twice a year Ethan makes me go and do a movie review.

And like clockwork, I come back yawning from the new Hollywood catalog of eye-popping special effects and budget surpluses, loosely wrapped around a $2 script.

But this year I was pleasantly surprised; this movie was a lot of fun.

The first thing that stands out about Ghost Rider is the all-star cast: it features a flaming skull, a tall skinny guy and a chick with fantastic cleavage, and a stellar myriad of various other supporting actors. For a documentary about a tall skinny guy selling his soul to the devil for a chick with fantastic cleavage and then becoming “Flaming Skull Guy”, I think there’s going to be huge buzz about the performances when the Oscars come around this year.

Still, while exhilarating, it was a rather disturbing piece for me --a former “Ghost Rider” myself—to watch.



***

I’m phobic of cotton.

Hey, some people are snakes, some people are spiders.

I’m cotton.

Fuck off.

So one Saturday afternoon, I wake up in dire need of an aspirin. After getting an adult to help me with the cap, I’m mortified to see a massive glob of dry, white horror in between me and my hangover medicine trapped helplessly in the bottom of the bottle.

Now the cotton, all bunched up in the bottle, will not shake out –or release a singe pill—no matter how many hours you spend shaking the bottle upside down or banging it on the table; the cotton just sits there tenaciously, hoarding all my tiny little liberators, daring me to do the unthinkable: to stick my finger in there and actually touch it --an act I know will cause certain and instantaneous death.

So, armed with my fantastic braniosity, I devised a plan.

I would use tweezers.

Now, this is obviously not the most sanitary of solutions. Immediately, I jump online and google ”sterilizing”.

Way, way down, under the Rosie O’Donnell links, there’s a medical page that says that the two best ways to rid your utensils of unwanted bacteria is to either:

1) Rub the utensil down with isopropyl alcohol, or
b) boil the utensil in water.

—So I figure “Hey, if I boil the utensil in isopropyl alcohol, it’ll be really sterile," right?

Well, it turns out that isopropyl alcohol is slightly flammable, and five seconds later, I was trying to get in the Chick Magnet, screaming.

In the dead of winter, starting a 1990 Plymouth Horizon can be rather sketchy. But after fifteen minutes or so, I was well on my way to the hospital. “Hey buddy,” teased some kids passing me on scooters. “What happened to your eyebrows?” By now, the roof liner and much of the interior had caught fire as well. I shook my fist at them, “Just wait until I get into fifth gear you little bastards!”

But atlas, even in fifth gear I could not catch them, because I had forgotten to turn off the AM radio when I turned on the headlights; the Chick Magnet sputtered and stalled. And those little bastards came back and pushed me off the road and into a snow bank!

Engulfed in flames and badly in need of a “jump”, I got out of the car swinging jumper cables over my head in effort to flag down another motorist …