Zoltrog Must Be Appeased

So go read his latest declaration for all us puny human Earthlings and continue building your bunkers for the coming onslaught of his vast Kroglovian armada.

Your Future Earth Days For Your Future Earth Weeks by Zoltrog, PhD.

Every 'To Catch A Predator' Guy Ever

To better characterize all To Catch A Predator stars, you have to imagine the following monologue as spoiled freezer section burrito scraps camping on the sweat soaked bacon collar of a shirt found lodged in a 70's prom stained couch of an undusted secondhand store's furniture section.

MAN REEKING OF AXE, PURCHASED USED AT BAZAAR HELD ON ELEPHANT'S TAINT (A BABAR?): "What am I doing here?  Oh just hanging out in my pleather Hugh-Jackman-from-X-Men jacket, waiting for this squeaky voiced girl who is clearly a part time gymnast to finish her laundry and make me some lemonade, drink of the neighborhood-roving perv.

She's how old?  Really?  She seemed so much more mature.  I mean, at least as mature as a grown man lurking on the web forums of Tiger Beat and Bop like a blue-balled lip-smacking ogre.  See, I sort of suspected, which is mainly why I sludged over here.  I was like, Hmm, this girl talking to me on the internet as 'cupcakebootie15' might not be of legal age.  I mean, there are a lot of psychos out there, you know?

So I turned off Rush's 2112, peeled my non-penis hand off my novelty mouse made to look like a vagina, the mouse wheel a clitoris, slithered into my most responsible looking Teen Titans tee shirt, and came over here to check on her with a bottle of wine and pills."

FYI: I Invented the Imaginary Table Flip

I went out with a friend last night, and we visited this bartender I know.  We talked with her for a few minutes when, in a bout of fake anger, she proceeded to gesture as if flipping over an imaginary table.  Like so...

I told her I invented that move, but she didn't believe me, saying I was crazy.  I replied, "Oh, I am crazy... crazy like a guy who invents violent gestures involving imaginary objects!"

Now, I've been doing this motion for the better part of a decade: faking anger and flipping over an imaginary table in front of me.  It's almost a part of my personality at this point.  Just like my pretend sports car that's forever "in the shop," and my fake spray-on farmer tan, and my imaginary girlfriend.

These things are all a part of who I pretend am.

Am I happy that my move has spread to the far reaches of a small city in Wisconsin?  Sure.  But I just want some credit for being an imaginary visionary.  Is that so pretend much to pretend ask?

Peeping Tom Caught Hiding in Women's Porta-Potty at Yoga Festival... Wanna Know Where? Too Bad, I'm Telling You

Question #1:  Andy, given that porta-potties are rather small, where would a peeping tom hide in a women's porta-potty without being detected?

Well, I'm glad I pretended you asked that.  Let's go to the article...

Question #2: Andy, that's fucking gross.

That's not really a question, but I agree.

Question #3: Andy, given that this took place at a yoga festival, what yoga poses could this man have exhibited to better hide in the shithole of a women's porta-potty?

Again, an important question.  Clearly this man was amateur at best when it came to the art of yoga or as it's known in scholarly circles, "bendy body arts."

I've created a visual aid showcasing the yoga positions appropriate and inappropriate when hiding in the shithole of a women's porta-potty at a yoga festival.  I hope you find it helpful.

(For education purposes only... sicko.)

Question #4: God, why? Sweet, merciful creator, why?

Jennie Finch Article on Huffington Post

The blog post that directly precedes this one is also now on my Huffington Post blog.

However, it's occurred to me that the act of people following a link here from there, then following a link there from here, will result in an endless information loop, create a rip in reality, tear spacetime at the seams, and thus cause the end of the Universe as we know it.

But... check it out again, because it's pretty funny.

Andy's Huffington Post blog presents... in association with I Am Andy McDonald: "Jennie Finch Reproduces Without Me Again"

Jennie Finch Reproduces Without Me Again

Once again, legendary women's softball pitcher Jennie Finch has given birth to a baby boy and sadly I was not involved in any way.  No photos of the child have been released, but he probably resembles a combination of Jennie...

...and a man that can only be described as not me.  Painfully, not this guy.  And now my softball sized heart has been torn at the seams just a little bit more.

There are so many things this child will grow up never knowing about me, his surreal father.  He won't have my adventurous hairline -- always changing, always keeping life interesting!

He won't inherit my highly coveted Cleavage Comic Chest -- a collection of comic books featuring top-notch cleavage shots, conveniently separated into human boobs and alien boobs.

And if he's anything like his pretend old man, he'll regularly need the help of a dynamite legal team.

Congratulations.  I guess.  One of these days, penis.  One of these days.

Facebook 'Previous Status Updates'

Is it just me or does Facebook's 'Previous Status Updates' feature seem like the perfect way to relive bad memories?

• "The weatherman is predicting lightning on our wedding day, but I think the outdoor reception will be fine.  These tall copper centerpieces look great!"
• "I bought a doggy treat for the rottweiler next door!  I'll win him over yet lol!"
• "Sheeeeeit, gawt my ticket all set for the RMS Titanic maiden voyage!  Best spring break ever! :-)"
• "Aww!!!111! Greeks left us this awesome horse statue! <333  Time for bed!"
• "Hindenburg pilot = super hawt! ;-)"
• "Our new Coke II goes on sale tomorrow and it's gonna be the muthatruckin business y'all!"
• "Exxon really knows how to pack its ships with booze!! Next stop, Prince William Sound!"
• "At Ford's, got Lincoln's autograph bitches!  Now to watch my brobot John in Our American Cousin!  Anyone goin out later??"
• "First day on the job tomorrow at the stock market!  1929 is going to be awesome!  Thrusting thriving 30s, here we come!"
• "Super excited for Battlefield Earth investors screening!  This is going to payoff epically!  I <3 Travolta"

The Worst History Channel Acting Jobs

As we move in on 2012 and the end of the world, shit is very gradually hitting the fan it seems.  Like an intergalactic bag of poop just beginning to spark on Earth's doorstep.

It affects all aspects of our civilization.  Geopolitical relations, the environment, and even television.  "What, the Earth is coming to an end soon, you say?  Screw it, let's roll out another Kardashian show."

But few people have it worse in these end times than character actors in dramatic TV portrayals and reenactments on the History Channel.  Here are people who have dedicated their lives to a craft that probably brings them a great deal of joy.  Only to use it to portray people who represent the downfall of humanity or the end of days.


Hitler

This first one is easy.  Hitler actors.  Poor bastards.  Sure they're hidden behind a Chaplin mustache, but they're also wearing a Hitler mustache.  You're Hitler.  You're going to be doing a lot of scenes in a dark bunker or hopped up on meth or standing in front of flaming backgrounds.  No redeeming factors here.  And as you sit at your studio apartment breakfast nook slash bathroom, wearing your Hitler mustache and remembering your days as Hamlet in theater school, you'll slowly deteriorate into a delusional frenzy.  The train will pass by your dark, dank, studio bunker, shaking it like the bombs of the Allied forces.  And then the landlord will bang on the door and demand that you pay up.  Man, you are Hitler.


The Anti Christ

The Anti Christ, when not shown as Napoleon or Hitler, is usually portrayed as a good looking man in a business suit, someone who will wow you with his charm as you voluntarily follow him toward the end of the world.  As an actor, it's good news and bad news.  The good news is you're a handsome man who is charming and dresses well.  The bad news is you'll use that charm to drag the world toward the apocalypse and utter oblivion.

I mean, come on, the Anti Christ will know how to dress, because I find many evil people spend large portions of their day dressing themselves.  I've created a new fashion term called Anti Christ chic.  And as you sit in your high rise studio apartment, looking over the creation that you will soon destroy in a History Channel presentation about the end of the world, you'll realize that your birthday is at the opposite side of the calendar from Christ's.  You'll realize that while Jesus' dad built houses as a carpenter, your dad took them down via his demolition business.  And while Mary is touted as a pure, chaste virgin, word around town about your mom is just the opposite.  My god, you are the Anti-Christ.


Nostradamus

Ah, the fortune teller who never predicts anything good.  Why is it that the ethereal powers of the universe never showed Nostradamus positive glimpses of the future.  War, death, destruction.  Hitler, the Anti Christ, etc.  As an actor, Nostradamus is an easy role.  Just strap on a beard and dress in some weird clothes because your average viewer doesn't know what people dressed in back then -- they could have worn parachute pants.  And a strange hat, always a strange hat.  Top it off with a small mystical pool of water to look into, which Nostradamus referred to as FutureVision.  Sounds like a piece of cake.

And as you stare despondently into the leftover milk from your cereal bowl, wearing a onesie (that someone got you as a joke) and an earflapped winter hat, because you have no clean clothes, you'll begin to see things in the bowl.  You're not sure what.  Strange contraptions.  Nations at war.  The things you see you can't identify.  Is it because you've been up for 48 hours straight or that you're seeing into the unrecognizable distant future?  Jumpin' Jehosaphat... you are Nostradamus.


Neanderthals

A special on evolution.  This is where your non-verbal acting skills will shine.  That is, if anyone could recognize your face.  They'll apply layers and layers of makeup, but not as much as your fellow actors.  Is it because you have a face pretty close to Neanderthal already?  "You don't need as much work as he does," the makeup artist says to you.  What the fuck is that supposed to mean?  Are you a walking, bulbous frontal lobe?

As you finish the leftover chicken in your fridge, ripping the bone clean like an animal, you'll tell yourself your exceptional physique was the reason they cast you.  Sure you have to shave a lot of hair off your body after you work out, but that doesn't mean anything.  To hell with anyone who has something to say about it -- this could get you in at Geico!  Dammit you'll crush their skull in with a rock! 


Other Notable History Channel Roles...

• Tool-wielding apes
• Slaves hammering with chisels in foreground of digitally incomplete Great Pyramid
• Ancient Egyptian architect comparing Great Pyramid with pyramid drawing on scroll and nodding favorably
• Wright brothers arguing over schematics
• Torch-carrying Egyptian priests mummifying body
• Body on stone slab in dimly lit room to be mummified
• Apostles surprised by Jesus' empty tomb
• Shadow or silhouette of Roman senator stabbing shadow or silhouette of Caesar

Viruses That Make Me Laugh & Computers Made of Babies

A few days ago, after journeying through the fictional world of a role playing computer game, collecting booty, slaying demons, and sexing up village peasant girls (in exchange for them not be sexed up by the demons), I received an alarming pop-up on my desktop. 

It looked a little something like this...

Looks legit, but it's completely fake.  And a whole host of other graphics will pop up as well, pretending to scan and find viruses on your PC.  It's "scareware," meant to scare you into doing things to your PC you shouldn't.  For instance, downloading things which would get you a virus in the first place, Andy, you jackass.

The virus goes by a few different names, but mine came in the form of "Windows Security Center 2012."  Wow, sounds so official.  And it's not even 2012 yet, so my computer must be way ahead of those hackers!

That was the first tip off.  Equally good cover-up names would have been "Virus Protector 2012 For Andy McDonald at (home address)," "Data Rape Guard 2013," and "ANDY CLICK HERE OR YOUR PC WILL EXPLODE!"  Come on, hackers, let's get creative here.

The second tip off is located at the bottom where it says, "At Microsoft, we care about your privacy."  Any person with any Windows experience whatsoever knows that is complete bullshit.  Microsoft would sooner turn your baby into an affordable desktop for inner city schools than promote data security.

Not that that's a bad thing.  Maybe your baby would be happier as a desktop giving back to the community.  It'd be a charitable thing to do and would relax some of the criticism of your selfish, selfish baby.  No one's saying it to your face, but everyone's thinking it and talking behind your back.  Your baby is a selfish prick.  There, I said it.

Here are some names for the babies-turned-PC project...

• InfantCPU
• Babe-E-Systems
• GagaGoogle
• Baby On Motherboard

Wait, where am I?

Weirdest "On The Phone" Photo That Has Ever Existed

I was flipping through television one day, when CNN came on.  Anderson Cooper 360.  I stopped on this channel not because I love Anderson Cooper.  Have Anderson Cooper and I spent many nights together?  I don't want to talk about it.

No, I stopped because of the screen I'm about to show you.  When guest experts on shows like this can't be there in person, they show a photo of the person.  This is that photo...

From some reason, eye can't quite get behind this woman.  Eye can't put my finger on it, but eye feel she can't be trusted.  Eye don't know what it is.

Bachmann and Her Supporters Understand Each Other

During a rally for presidential candidate Michelle Bachmann, supporters lauded her ability to connect with them and their issues.  "She speaks our code," said one man.

Let's listen in...

Rick Santorum Sums Up His Candidacy In One Word

In a message to his supporters, Rick Santorum summarized his campaign for president in one word:  Courage.

Hmm.  See, here are words that might better summate his run for president of the United States...

• Nope
• Crazy
• Lose
• Wiener (Sorry, low blow. Oh!)
• Really?
• Discourage
• Uncourage
• Noncourage
• Dumbcourage
• Ridicourage
• Insanicourage

On the other hand, perhaps it is courageous to be running a campaign that, by all indications, will be soaring off a cliff at some point, like a bald eagle that's belly has been force fed a hundred pounds of tea.  So courageously majestic, all the way to its jagged rocky end.

No, wait, there's nothing at all courageous about that.  If you're on a bus with someone who wants to drive it off a cliff, and you refuse the offer to get off the bus pre-cliff, are people going to say, "He could've gotten off the cliff-bound bus, but he decided not to... that's courage!"

Now, the bus is just a metaphor.  No one is actually driving a--

...

Okay then.