The intuitive nature of Youtube, c-list celeb/washed up 80s singer lookalikes and the radness of Much More Retro...

After much (well, some) discussion of resurrecting The Crap Shack, I've taken it upon myself to get our once-great blog back up and running. A series of events that have unfolded within the last 30 minutes, plus the fact that I'm at home with no sports to cover on a Friday night, have left me with no choice but to pull the blog out of its nine-month hiatus.

I'm not sure how long Youtube has been recommending videos for its users based on their past searches, but its effectiveness of late has proven to be a litle bit astounding. I was talking with my Dad the other day about Gretzky fighting. A moment of paranoia makes me wonder if Google is spying on me through the mic that's built into my mac. How weird would that be? Anyway, some of the results that came up after a few refreshes at Youtube:





I uh, can't figure out how the fart stuff got in there.

Remember when Much Music and then Much More Music were actually about music? When there used to be programs that showed different types of music (or just the same songs presented by a different VJ) all day? For a few hours every night, I try and enjoy the videoflow on Much More. Segment of the night goes to Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up leading into George Michael's (WHAM!'s I guess) Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. While I was watching Astley, I noticed that he looks just like David Caruso, of CSI: Miami fame. Don't you think that if Caruso was going to sing, he'd be Rick Astley?

Two things to consider from the WHAM! video:

1. The all-white George Michael outfit would make a great Halloween costume.
2. Check GM out from 2:10 onwards, for hilarity's sake.

Finally, with the barrage of ads for the shitty-looking your-stillborn-twin-brother-wants-you-dead-movie The Unborn, I noticed that James Remar has a role in the show. Remar played Richard Wright in Sex and The City, as one of Kim Cattrall's rare boyfriends (read: more than a one-off sexual oddity that was there for comical/a lame excuse for female empowerment purposes). With the Unborn, Remar and Cattrall are now also linked by sci-fi. Kattrall had a role in a 1995 episode of The Outer Limits, with a very similar plot to The Unborn.

This is captivating stuff.



SPOILER ALERT: Her Lex Luther lookalike husband killed their first child, then tried to kill Samantha Jones when she figured that shit out.

Retro '80s exercise themed cell phone savings

I noticed my first Koodo ad the other night on my way to Rexall, where the Oilers died a painful death at the hands of the Calgary Flames.

I find these ads strange. Who are these rogue cell phone providers, where did they come from and how did they manage to plaster what seems like hundreds of billboards all over the city with a guy on them who looks like Will Ferrell?

I've had Olivia Newton John stuck in my head for the last three days and I'm more compelled to eat these phones (did I mention the ads make me think of twinkie-like pastry treats?) than to dump Telus and hop aboard Koodo's pirate ship.

This sounds like ass

The film is about Jennifer (Megan Fox), a cheerleader possessed by a demon who starts feeding off the boys in a Minnesota farming town. Her bookish best friend (Amanda Seyfried) must take drastic measures to protect the town. Brody will play Nikolai, a hot lead singer of an up-and-coming rock band with a penchant for evil. J.K. Simmons will play Mr. Wroblewski, a high school science teacher.

As much as I love Amanda Seyfried, this just has ASS written all over the script.

This is also the new Diablo Cody movie. See, this is what happens if you give people totally undeserved Oscars. All their crap projects get greenlighted because they're now marketable.

The man is big is Japan!

They didn't exactly name a town after him. However, they did have a theme song (lyrics include "I love Obama"), spontaneous public gatherings and cakes with Obama's face on it. (I hope somebody is selling this shit on eBay. I'd buy it!)



Maybe Obamaniacs should look into this and see if Japan can send delegates to the DNC. It shouldn't be that hard. Puerto Rico is already sending more people than West Virginia or Kentucky.

My first holy f*ck moment in hockey

Holy f*ck moment: /Hoh-lee fuhk moh-muh-nt/ -noun
A semi-euphoric state in which something tremendous happens, often eliciting the phrase in question from the subject's mouth, or is expressed internally. More often than not stems from a sports-related incident. Also 9/11.



I've done a pretty good job at keeping my cool this year with hockey. For those of you don't know, I've been covering Oilers games for a US-based sportsticker this season. From time to time, you've read sections of my recaps in the uncredited hockey briefs section of your non-Edmonton based papers. Or maybe you don't know what I'm talking about. It doesn't really matter.

Last night, after the Oilers rolled the Phoenix Coyotes 5–2, I went downstairs to get my quotes. I saw the herd of media people and camera crews standing around down the hall from the Coyotes locker room so I stuck with the pack. A few minutes later, the door opened, the security guard at the door's eyes went a little wide and out walked The Great One.

Commence holy f*ck moment.

He walked out the door, turned and started walking down the hall towards the waiting scrum. At the end of the hall, he positioned himself against a wall. Everyone quickly re-positioned themselves like we were 50 people battling for a rebound on a basketball court. If it were a podium finish, I'd give myself a bronze medal—a pretty good display of my boxing out techniques, all things considered.

The first question was from a Phoenix beat writer. "Pretty rough going for you guys out there tonight." Or something to that effect. Gretzky answered it and then there was a long pause.

This pause is much more common than you'd expect in pro-level locker rooms. I've heard it come up at Raptors games and numerous Oilers games. Part of me thinks it only exists in Canadian sporting venues, like we have the politeness so ingrained in us that we can't get around it even in the highly-competitive world of getting post-game quotes from the world's best athletes. Lots of times, two people from rival networks will start to talk at the same time and they catch themselves, look at each other and an awkward you-go-first takes place. I just don't see it happening at MSG.

But I digress.

The pause is hanging there for at least two seconds. Since I'm on the podium I created for myself, the next thing I know, I'm spitting out a question about Ilya Bryzgalov. I barely know what I'm saying.

"Ilya came into this thing really hot—holy f*ck Wayne Gretzky is making eye contact with me—"

"Yeah."

"Holy f*ck the greatest hockey player of all-time just agreed with me when we were talking hockey."

"—and then he lets in a bunch of goals on the first few shots he faces."

"Right."

"holy f*ck"

"What'd you say to him after you took him out in the second?"

"Words. Words words words words. Words" (Note--I stole the words thing from Lang at SLAM, from him story of when he met Michael Jordan. It's applicable here though. Similar feeling).

It's a good thing I had my recorder running, because I took in very little of what he said to my question.

The rest of the night was normal. I was out of Rexall at around 11 and could have rode home on cloud nine. I should have, actually. The LRT cops caught me with an un-validated ticket on the way home. That's a $110 ticket, folks.

Who is Bret Michaels?

According to Wikipedia:

Bret Michael Sychak, also known as Bret Michaels, (born March 15, 1963 in Butler, Pennsylvania) is best known as the lead vocalist of the glam metal band Poison and starred in the reality show Rock of Love with Bret Michaels on VH1.

According to my own eyes:
He's Fergie!

Good luck looking for love with a face like that. Maybe Josh Duhamel will find you attractive.

Christmas TV fun

One of the perks that come with going home at Christmas time for me is the chance to check out what I'm missing with digital cable. It turns out that with the exception of the Raptors Channel, it's not a lot. Over the course of the last three days, I've seen a lot of bad commercials. This one though, with its borderline porn quality is by far the worst.



The Hawks are playing the Suns on the Raptors Channel, in a replay of their 1970 Christmas day classic...for the third time today. Nine hours till the real game comes on.