The Red Shtick

Let the Summer Begin!!

James Brown — Thu, 16 May 2013 14:52:26 +0000

James isn’t the only one who’s ready for summer.

Greetings, folks. It’s my favorite time of the year. As a movie lover …

Yes, that’s MOVIE lover. Not a film nut. There’s a big difference between imbibing the world of cinema and swinging down to the local IMAX 3-D.

I’m planning to go to about a dozen midnight showings this summer. I am already anticipating packing in with about 500 Trekkies to enjoy the new incarnation of the starship Enterprise crew putting on “The Wrath of Cumberbatch.” I’m looking forward to seeing Vin Diesel, the Rock, et al driving fast and furiously all over the screen. Explosions, cars defying the laws of physics, tanks going 100 miles an hour! Cars jumping through exploding planes! Dogs and cats living together!! MASS HYSTERIA!!!

Explosions, cars defying the laws of physics, tanks going 100 miles an hour! Cars jumping through exploding planes! Dogs and cats living together!! MASS HYSTERIA!!!

Woo! Got a little excited there. Yes, I don’t need to tell you how exciting summer movies are. Even the bad ones are a blast to watch in a crowd of people who are experiencing it for the first time and feeling just like you do about it. You will groan simultaneously at Ed Helms making some callback to the first Hangover movie, or you’ll all cheer as the Man of Steel makes you believe that a man can fly.

And the popcorn! THE POPCORN, PEOPLE!!!

OK, I’ll calm down.

Hey. It could happen.

But these are great times. Vin Diesel said to expect Oscar contention in the latest Fast & Furious movie. I believe him. And I’m not talking visual effects. I don’t think we’re expected to be blown away by the pyrotechnics of the flick. I mean, we already have high expectations for that; I’m talking screenplay. I’m talking direction. And yes, I’m talking a Best Actor nod for Vin for Fast & Furious 6. You heard it here first, folks.

The month of May already has seen the second-biggest movie opening of all time. Iron Man 3 blew the socks off the theaters right out the box, setting the stage for a fantastic summer. The Star Trek: Into Darkness previews make me wish the 23rd century would hurry up and get here, and yes, I’ll even probably catch the third and final Hangover movie in the theaters. And that’s just May!

In the meantime, there are a bunch of films that the Louisiana Film Commission should be promoting. I’ve got better versions of the Oscar contenders from last year in mind. For example:

ArGeaux Tigers!

Beasts of the Southern Wild: Tigers, Razorbacks, and Bulldogs

Les Miles (Like Les Miserables without the “serab”)

OK, I’ll see you guys after the midnight showing of Star Trek. I’ve got some theater nachos to enjoy.

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The Red Shtick Podcast, Episode 35

Editorial Staff — Thu, 16 May 2013 06:09:39 +0000

Publisher Jeremy White and contributors Sunny Weathers and Stephanie Landry kick off this week’s show talking about the recent attack of a white family at a Baton Rouge Chevron station and BRPD’s underwhelming response to a possible hate crime.

The trio then talks about harassing phone calls Jeremy has received recently, as well as how Stephanie’s son reacted to seeing black people when he was 3.

Then there’s a rather interesting, extended “live read” promoting Grand Cinema Station, a local fantasy and couples store that also happens to carry knives, swords, and armor.

For Sunny’s next encounter with Pat Simon.

Later, the topic turns to the fat asses of O.J. Simpson and Tammy Jung, an aspiring BBW fetish model who’s striving to become morbidly obese with the help of her boyfriend.

The gang then touches on music that they hate before Jeremy briefly mentions his recent trip to Miami, during which the issue of prostate exams arose.

After a discussion about the evolution of Livingston Parish, Stephanie helps bring the show to a close by talking about some of the messed-up stuff her two sons have done.

[Explicit language]

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Theme music by Bob Prattini

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PayPal Launches Electronic Fund Transfer Service for Panhandlers

Tony Swartz — Wed, 15 May 2013 15:32:56 +0000

The global e-commerce company PayPal has introduced a new service aimed specifically at enabling beggars to solicit and receive cashless donations from their benefactors.

The new electronic fund transfer (EFT) service PanPal is being marketing as a revolutionary means for the indigent population to take part in the increasingly growing cashless economy.

PayPal spokesperson Anuj Nayar said some of the company’s developers came up with the idea after attending last year’s South by Southwest Interactive Festival in Austin, TX, where an advertising company turned local homeless people into walking WiFi hotspots.

“If the QR code is large enough, people can scan it and donate to a vagrant without ever getting close enough to smell him.”

Nayar stated that, like lots of people, PayPal employees initially were repulsed at the notion of turning down-and-out humans into high-speed web portals, but then later were inspired by the controversial marketing ploy.

“If vagrants can be transformed into part of the internet’s infrastructure, why not enable them to participate in its economy?” Nayar said.

According to Nayar, PanPal allows people to electronically transfer funds to panhandlers, eliminating the need to whip out a wad of cash or embarrassingly ask for change. Contributors may use their existing PayPal accounts or most major credit cards to give via EFT.

“Solicitors can either give potential donors their PanPal account number or display a quick response (QR) code that donors can scan with their smartphones,” Nayar noted. “In fact, if the QR code is large enough, people can scan it and donate to a vagrant without ever getting close enough to smell him.”

Nayar added, “The cash-free transaction can typically be completed right there within seconds, especially if the homeless beneficiary is also a WiFi hotspot.”

He also said the new service could drastically alter the way the public interacts with panhandlers.

“PanPal will all but eliminate the lame-ass excuse of ‘Oh, I don’t have any cash,’” Nayar declared. “Now, when people are asked for money on the street, they can either give, ignore the request, or straight up say they don’t wish to donate. People will have much clearer consciences now that they can no longer dodge such requests by lying about what’s in their wallets.”

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GUEST COLUMN: “I’m Totally Cool With the IRS. Please Don’t Audit Me.” – Rob Saddler, Total Pussy

Off the Wire Guest Columnist — Tue, 14 May 2013 14:24:46 +0000

There’s been a lot of talk and outrage lately about the Internal Revenue Service allegedly targeting groups affiliated with the tea party movement.

I just want to go on the record and say unequivocally that the folks at the IRS are the nicest and fairest people you will ever find with overwhelming power to capriciously screw with your life.

Some people believe the IRS is nothing more than a pit of thieves with carte blanche to intimidate anyone without reproach. Not me. No sir. I’d never say that.

Some people believe the IRS is nothing more than a pit of thieves with carte blanche to intimidate anyone without reproach. Not me. No sir. I’d never say that.

I don’t understand why people would accuse the great folks at the IRS of going after organizations that advocate for the abolition of the IRS. They would NEVER do anything so petty and obviously vindictive.

I mean, why in the world would people want to do away with the one federal government agency that does its job efficiently and with total compassion, anyway? I’m totally cool with the IRS. Please don’t audit me.

Hell, I’ll scream it from the mountaintops! I F–KING LOVE THE INTERNAL REVENUE SERVICE! Now, for the love of God, leave me alone.

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The Bicoastal Hootenanny 0014: “Happy Mother’s Day Avec Shane Webb”

Editorial Staff — Mon, 13 May 2013 16:46:28 +0000

Happy Mother’s Day to all our Hooteneer Mamas out there! Adam opens this week by discussing an odd encounter on the subway, and Nate questions whether the event was indeed awkward because of Adam’s “white guilt.” The boys then introduce their guest of the week, the one and only Shane Webb (one half of Webb-Wilson), to bring a feminine perspective to a controversial issue that has bothered Adam.

Adam begins “JD’s Office” by apologizing for not watching Nate’s webseries Bloomers, which is now well into its second season. Nate also touts the independent He’s Way More Famous Than You starring Halley Feiffer and directed by Michael Urie, while Shane praises The Bourne Legacy.

Halley Feiffer, star of He’s Way More Famous Than You

“The Probe” finds the boys discussing the Utah soccer referee who died after being hit by a 17-year-old player and the slow decline of New Orleans’ The Times-Picayune. Nate and Adam did yet another in-depth interview with Shane Webb, during which they informed her what kind of man she should hope her new son will be.

And finally, a grumpy Adam Wilson speeds through “Balls,” giving us updates from the Louisiana High School Athletic Association baseball playoffs.

**UPDATE: As Nate and Adam signed off, they received reports of a shooting at a Mothers’ Day parade in New Orleans. They deliver their heartfelt best wishes to all those affected by the shooting.

[Explicit language]

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Or email the guys at nateandadam@theredshtick.com.

Show credits:

Director: Nathan Frizzell
Producer: Adam Wilson
Executive Producer: Jeremy White
Announcer: Emily Ann Hyndman

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GUEST COLUMN: You Led Me to Believe You Were OK With Things – Ariel Castro

Off the Wire Guest Columnist — Fri, 10 May 2013 01:40:46 +0000

Before the media circus begins over my arrest, I felt I had to clear the air with the three Cleveland women I’m accused of imprisoning, raping, and beating over a 10-year period. While this looks really bad to the rest of the world, I honestly thought all of you had grown accustomed to your fate and were, therefore, OK with things.

I mean, excuse me, but somewhere during that hellish decade in which I kept you barbarically chained and bound while using you repeatedly to satisfy my sadistic, inhuman sexual desires, I clearly got the impression you eventually came to accept the relationship. You know, this was just how things would be from now on. Was that just in my mind?

Granted, all three of you resisted at first. Actually, for about the first seven years of the unspeakable horror that I made of your lives. But I clearly got the impression that, by 2009 or 2010, you resigned yourself to the vicious, merciless beatings and nightmarish torture. Even though deep down inside I perhaps knew that no sane person should treat others this way and that I certainly wouldn’t enjoy being used like a washrag, all three of you came to see this as a way of life. If this isn’t tacit approval, then I don’t know what is.

I clearly got the impression you eventually came to accept the relationship. You know, this was just how things would be from now on. Was that just in my mind?

Looking back, maybe this is my fault. I probably should’ve done a better job of communicating with you instead of assuming. I think perhaps I just got distracted in the midst of devolving into the most evil, despicable monster the human mind is capable of conceiving. But I would like to say that, in my defense, maybe you should’ve done a better job of reinforcing your opposition.

In any case, I hope we can stay in touch before I’m sent to prison and raped on a daily, perhaps hourly, basis.

Sincerely,

Ariel

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Celebrity Baby Names Are Out of Control

Stephanie Landry — Thu, 09 May 2013 06:29:17 +0000

“There are no laws” on naming your children, Louis C.K. said in his 2005 HBO special. “None. You can literally name your kid anything. … I’d like to name my kid a whole phrase. You know, something like ‘Ladies and Gentlemen.’ That’ll be a cool name for a kid. ‘This is my son, Ladies and Gentlemen!’ Then, when he gets out of hand, I get to go, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, please!’”

Of course, the comic does also admit there probably should be a few laws involved in naming a child, and honestly, I could not agree with him more.

You’re not getting a clear idea if it would be a delicious irony or not to name her Chastity at this point.

There’s something to be said for the almost impossible and somewhat absurd task that comes with bestowing a name on a screaming, wrinkly miniature human – who, for the record, no one really knows all that much about yet. We’re talking about a newborn baby, which is merely a 7- or 8-pound mass of screaming and pooping and eating. Sometimes (as in often), they do this all at once!

This is one of the few SFW pics of Chastity Lynn we could find.

When newborns aren’t screaming, they’re asleep for, like, 47 hours at a stretch. This does not give one a good perspective on whether the child is a decent person with concrete plans to succeed in life. You’re not getting a clear idea if it would be a delicious irony or not to name her Chastity at this point. She is, at minimum, 18 years away from being able to slink around a pole and get twenties tucked in her G-string.

You truly have no idea what this kid is like. Is this the kind of kid who will extort lunch money from other kids or the type to give half his sandwich to a buddy who forgot his lunch? Will she like Star Wars enough for you to name her Amidala? Is he really into race cars enough at this juncture for you to name him Jimmy Johnson [insert last name here]? Is this kid a future politician, or will she end up teaching kindergarteners not to eat paste?

Without a doubt, you are clueless. Naming a child at this stage is a very presumptuous act for parents, but in order to leave the hospital and take the child home, you have to come up with something. But please, not just anything.

It’s sort of fascinating that, if you look around a crowded room for longer than two seconds, there is a person near you whose parents once likely battled to name her or him Jennifer or Jason or Kenya or Keith or any other semi-normal moniker we know today as an accepted given name. These common names, much like the arrival of new seasons, may change over a period of time, but they are what we know. They are familiar, comfortable even.

But sometimes, something happens and everything goes to sh-t. Someone goes and flouts the rule of the game.

The rule is this: You give your child the gift of a name that does not secure him or her an ass-whipping by his or her peers every day of late childhood and early adolescence. Not doing so is what I like to call “not cool.”

And no more Britney/Britteny/Brittanys. I’m afraid our planet reached its quota for Brittneys in 1994. Pick another name. That one’s toxic.

And you never (ever ever ever ever) give a kid a name that rhymes with something even remotely sexual, a communicable or inherited disease, an alcoholic drink, or a wild animal. You cannot choose a name that can be paired with any other word that could be construed as distasteful in any way. You do not want your precious child to be known until he or she moves four states away for college as “Puke Luke” or “Hazel Picks Her Nasal.” This means no Pattys! And no Chucks! Ever!

And no more Britney/Britteny/Brittanys. I’m afraid our planet reached its quota for Brittneys in 1994. Pick another name. That one’s toxic.

By far, the most frequent class of baby name rule breakers is, without fail, celebrities.

The trend of giving your child a name that is so unique that it’s emotionally scarring got a wink and a nudge recently from legendary comic and bluegrass musician Steve Martin. The newly minted father visited David Letterman and joked that he and his wife named their infant daughter “Conquistador.”

My Name Is Earl meets My Name is Totally F–ked Up.

Martin is notoriously private, so I doubt seriously he named his baby girl after the bloodthirsty Spaniards who delivered smallpox to the Western hemisphere. I fervently pray that he actually named her Ann or Bella or really just any damn thing else.

Listen up, famous people! No child should have to bear for a lifetime a name that is worth 250 points in Scrabble.

Jason Lee, of Chasing Amy and My Name Is Earl fame, had, in my opinion, hands-down won the award for Sh-ttiest Baby Name Ever when his son Pilot Inspektor was born. As you’d expect, the kid’s first words were something like, “Go-go-gadget.” The kid would have an easier time of it if he were called Velveeta Dahmer.

Ear protectors, Gwyneth? Afraid Apple might hear people mention how stupid her name is?

Lifestyle blogger and noted pretentious ass Gwyneth Paltrow has a daughter named Apple. Too bad Steve Jobs isn’t the father; maybe then it would be cute. Instead, I assume the kid is just a total doctor repellant. Nic Cage supersized the stupidity when he named his son Kal-El. Comic nerd much?

Illusionist and noted big mouth Penn Jillette named his pink bundle of joy Moxie Crimefighter. I hope she gets big enough someday to kick him in the nuts for this. Yes, right in the magical baby maker.

Whaddaya know? Blue Ivy isn’t just named after a plant, she’s also an Original Gangsta.

Cuban tourists Jay-Z and Beyonce gave their kid a name that sounds more like a satin finish wall color: Blue Ivy. Noted bulimic Nicole Richie named her baby boy Sparrow. No, Nicole, that’s a pirate name!

Sarah Palin has a son, Trig, whom she thinks she named for that super-dee-duper-hard science class she had in senior year. Hoedown dancer Ashlee Simpson repeated bad name history by calling her son Bronx Mowgli. It would have been much kinder to name him Orenthal James.

“I didn’t want to go with one of those Hollywood weird names. Conquistador is a statement,” Steve Martin claimed on Letterman. He neglected to mention that the statement the celebrities he’s poking fun at are making is that they don’t give a sh-t.

I hope none of them are confused about what bestowing a ridiculous name does to and for a child: essentially guaranteeing that she will have a giant dodgeball target on her head for the rest of her life, suffer from a terminal, un-stamp-out-able case of cooties for all of third grade, and only find friends through role-playing games.

So who knows what Steve Martin could have possibly named his baby girl? I’m pulling for something simple and classic, a name you hear and know without hesitation is a girl’s name. Perhaps, since he is a Steve, he gave her the quite excellent name of “Stephanie”? She should be so lucky.

It is a fairly amusing irony that, no matter what, the most ridiculously uncool people in any child’s life – the parents – are the ones who get to choose how the child will forever be addressed by the world. As for me, I’m off to kiss my mother and father for not weirding out and giving me a name as stupid as Apple or Crimefighter. God bless ‘em! And honestly, I really need to try to help my son Symphony Magicface with his trig homework.

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May 2013 Blood Alcohol Championship Series

Editorial Staff — Thu, 09 May 2013 06:27:51 +0000

Our top ten contestants were arrested and booked on suspicion of driving while intoxicated according to The Advocate reports from April 1-30, 2013:

10. Isaac K., 18, 1st-offense DWI, improper lane usage, possession of Schedule I drugs, possession of firearm with drugs, and illegal possession of stolen firearms.
Goddam Obama! Damn communist is trying to take away a man’s guns just because they’re stolen and he’s carrying potentially hallucinogenic drugs. Where’s the NRA?

9. Terrance B., 36, 1st-offense DWI, motor vehicle inspection required/expired, hit-and-run, registration, commercial vehicles exemption, possession of alcohol in a vehicle, failure to maintain control/careless operation of a vehicle, seat belt violation, insurance required, improper lane usage, and fugitive from justice.
Wow! Terrance managed to get more charges than a typical nicad battery.

8. John G., 32, 1st-offense DWI, simple battery, aggravated criminal damage to property, aggravated assault, interfering with medical treatment, and intentional exposure to the AIDS virus.
Now we know how Philadelphia would have turned out had Andrew Beckett been a raging alcoholic.

7. Brian B., 54, 1st-offense DWI, possession of Schedule II drugs, license plate required, possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of Schedule IV drugs, driver’s license required, failure to maintain control of a vehicle, and possession of Schedule III drugs.
In its report of Brian’s arrest, The Advocate included an editor’s note clarifying that he is not the same Brian B. who’s a 50-year-old attorney in Baton Rouge. One is a blight on society, while the other was arrested for DWI and drugs.

Now we know how Philadelphia would have turned out had Andrew Beckett been a raging alcoholic.

6. Jack H., 29, 2nd-offense DWI, reckless operation of a vehicle, following too close, possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of alcohol in a vehicle, possession/distribution of legend drugs, and possession of marijuana.
Hit the road, Jack … And the embankment. And the car you’re following. And that joint.

5. Shannon M., 44, 3rd-offense DWI, failure to maintain control/careless operation of a vehicle, operating a vehicle while driver’s license suspended for prior offense, and driver’s license suspended/revoked.
Shannon’s not quite sure who this Molotov guy is, but she heard he makes a mean cocktail that will get you bombed.

4. Timothy B., 33, 3rd-offense DWI, operating a vehicle while under suspension for a prior offense, refusal of chemical test, required method of turning at intersections, and driver’s license suspended/revoked.
Exactly how many methods of turning at an intersection ARE there?

3. Sandi H., 28, 3rd-offense DWI, possession of marijuana, driver’s license suspended/revoked, possession of drug paraphernalia, and operating a vehicle while driver’s license suspended for prior offense.
“Sandi H” is an anagram for “Hi nads.” That is all.

2. Kent H., 24, 4th-offense DWI, failure to yield at stop sign, and reckless operation of a vehicle.
Kent is going to be so pissed when he finds out he’s not in The Hangover 3.

1. John D., 40, 5th-offense DWI and speeding.
Why was John speeding? Probably because he was racing home to find out if he had won the Judge Don Johnson Trophy! And he did!

Congratulations, John. You’ve won this installment of the Blood Alcohol Championship. We’ll all be looking out for you on the roads. To claim your trophy, simply print this page and cut it out. Just be careful not to cut your finger in the process.

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The Red Shtick Podcast, Episode 34

Editorial Staff — Wed, 08 May 2013 05:34:39 +0000

Publisher Jeremy White and contributors Sunny Weathers and Knick Moore begin this episode by talking about the kidnapped girls who recently were rescued in Cleveland after being held for ten years allegedly by Ariel Castro and his two brothers. Sunny offers some very tasteful jokes and astute observations about the situation.

Knick then shifts the topic to Jeremy’s mother; more specifically, her recent conversion to Judaism and her pending relocation to Israel later this summer.

After the fellas briefly speak about Michael Jackson’s wigs and the dangers of using the term “double fisting,” Jeremy recounts his recent encounter with Matt and Darby – a pair of loudmouth douchebags – at a Houma restaurant. This leads to an extended discussion about alter egos, during which the guys touch on GoBots, Sunny’s archnemesis Pat Simon, and guns created with 3-D printers.

The trio wraps up the show after bringing up Michael Richards’ infamous 2006 N-bomb-laced stand-up comedy meltdown at the Laugh Factory in Hollywood.

[Explicit language]

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Theme music by Bob Prattini

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Your Mother’s Behavior Worries Me

Knick Moore — Tue, 07 May 2013 15:25:45 +0000

May is a magical month, full of events and holidays that we could discuss at length.

For instance, May 15 is the beginning of Tourette’s Awareness month (yes, the beginning) so we could PENIS NIPPLES
F–K LICK JESUS VAGINA FACE make some sort of tasteless jokes about a difficult illness. I, however, refuse to work blue.

Instead, let’s focus on what’s really important about May: your mom. Sure, we all know your mother is like both a doorknob and the town bicycle, but we are adults. On the second Sunday of May, the most sacred of holidays created by greeting card companies and spun into multibillion-dollar annual events, let us speak frankly about your mother and everything we all know to be true about her.

Your mother is so stupid that she finds everyday activities difficult to accomplish.

Facts about your mom:

TAURUS (Apr. 20-May 20): Your mother is so unattractive that I would have no interest in sexual relations with her.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Your mother is so obnoxious that, if I were seated at a table near hers in a restaurant, it is quite likely that I would ask the waiter if I could move to another table farther away so I could enjoy my meal in peace.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Your mom is so skinny that Vogue would not allow her to model for them due to their belief that she has an eating disorder.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Your momma is so short that she can only purchase generic breakfast cereals, because they are usually found on the bottom shelf in the grocery stores.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Your mother is so stupid that she finds everyday activities difficult to accomplish.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Your mama’s so hairy that she could be diagnosed with hypertrichosis.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Your mother is so old that it is quite likely she will die soon and the coroner will label it “natural causes.”

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Your mother is so promiscuous that, were I inclined, I could acquire any sort of sexual favor from her for free.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Your mom is so poor that sometimes she has to return items at the checkout counter because she doesn’t have enough money to pay for them.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Your mother is so fat that I’m concerned about her elevated chances of heart disease, stroke, and diabetes.

PISCES (Feb. 19-Mar. 20): Your momma is so fat that, when she arrives at a Chinese buffet, the waiters bring out extra sesame chicken and eggrolls in anticipation of her enjoyment of fried foods.

ARIES (Mar. 21-Apr. 19): Your mom’s so ugly that she was often made fun of in high school by the cheerleaders and athletes.

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Jindal Calls BR Elephant Moving to D.C. His “Power Animal,” “Spiritual Companion”

Tony Swartz — Mon, 06 May 2013 19:08:56 +0000

Bobby and Bozie. Even their names are similar.

Gov. Bobby Jindal claims that Bozie, the Asian elephant set to move from Baton Rouge to Washington, D.C., is a living totem guiding his political future.

Jindal’s remarks came this weekend following The Advocate’s report about the 37-year-old pachyderm’s pending relocation to the National Zoo, thus leaving BREC’s Baton Rouge Zoo without an elephant for the first time since 1970.

“Now that we are united, she will protect and guide me to Washington and the presidency.”

“Bozie is my power animal,” Jindal told reporters upon returning from the NRA convention in Houston. “Her essence came to me last night, and she said she has chosen me as her spiritual companion. Now that we are united, she will protect and guide me to Washington and the presidency.”

Jindal stated Bozie selected him after her previous companion, Judy, the Baton Rouge Zoo’s only other elephant, died in March.

“Bozie chose to be my power animal since we have so much in common,” Jindal added. “I’m a 41-year-old Indian-American Republican with a not-so-secret desire to relocate to D.C. She’s 37, she symbolizes my political party, and she’s from Sri Lanka, which is practically part of India. Our synchronicity is undeniable!”

When asked how a devout Catholic such as himself could avow such Native American shamanistic beliefs, Jindal replied, “Hey, I’m an Indian.”

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The Bicoastal Hootenanny 0013: “¡V de Mayo MMXIII!”

Editorial Staff — Mon, 06 May 2013 14:56:29 +0000

¡Feliz Cinco de Mayo to all our Hooteneers! Nate opens this week’s episode by telling of his little brother’s suspension from Northlake Christian School in Covington for taking a scandalous photo of himself and a teacher. In “JD’s Office,” Nate gives us an update on the second season of Bloomers, and Adam shares his excitement of getting back into Elvis movies.

Brenda Heist (2002 & 2013), the Pennsylvania mom who disappeared for 11 years

In “The Probe,” Nate talks of Brenda Heist, the runaway Pennsylvania mother who reappeared in Florida last week and, as if it were half-necessary, another Lindsay Lohan rehab story.

“Balls” is packed with excitement this week thanks to Kobe Bryant’s legal feud with his mother (Bryant v. Bryant or Mamba v. Mama?). After a little talk about the NBA playoffs, Adam broaches the topic of Jason Collins, the NBA journeyman who this week revealed that he is gay.

[Explicit language]

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Or email the guys at nateandadam@theredshtick.com.

Show credits:

Director: Nathan Frizzell
Producer: Adam Wilson
Executive Producer: Jeremy White
Announcer: Emily Ann Hyndman

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Guest Column: “Pulling Out’s the Best Way to Not Have Unwanted Kids” – Bodi White, Pulling Out Proponent

Off the Wire Guest Columnist — Thu, 02 May 2013 18:49:17 +0000

A lot of folks out there are saying all sorts of stuff about me because I’m trying to help the southeast part of East Baton Rouge Parish break away from the rest of the school system and form its own district.

Well, I’m sorry if I upset some people, but I firmly believe that pulling out’s the best way to not have unwanted kids, especially if they’re totally jacking up your child’s education.

It also goes for just about anything. Whether it’s your school system, your neighborhood, or your family, the most effective way to keep undesirable or undesired children from affecting you and your family is to pull out.

It’s crazy how much pulling out can eliminate the need to deal with unwelcome little sh-ts!

Seriously, if you don’t want a bunch of pains in the ass running around making your life a nightmare, pull out.

It’s like if you’re trying to have a nice meal at a restaurant when a family with a bunch of unruly, screaming kids sits next to your table. Do you just sit there while they ruin your evening? Well, you’re a fool if you do, because when that happens to me, I pull out. I either pull out into a quieter section or pull out of the restaurant altogether.

Or what about if you don’t like your kids playing with the other kids in your neighborhood? If you’re like me and my constituents, you pull out and move to another neighborhood, perhaps one with some gates in the front.

It’s crazy how much pulling out can eliminate the need to deal with unwelcome little sh-ts!

Suppose you’re hosting a birthday party with a bunch of 7-year-olds who won’t go home so you can clean up in time for the LSU game. What do you do? You guessed it: Pull out … literally.

Pull out the plug on that shindig. They might be young, but once that bouncy castle deflates on top of them because you unplugged the blower, they’ll catch on that it’s time to go the hell on home.

Of course, it goes without saying that pulling out is also far and away the best means for not having unwanted kids in the first place. I know my buddy Woody Jenkins is a huge fan of abstinence-only education, but let’s be honest: Trying to keep teens from having sex is like trying to keep puppies from licking themselves.

And don’t get me started on condoms. Sure, they work, but good luck getting kids or anyone else to wear them. Most people have sex to enjoy it. Making love while wearing a condom is like a blind man trying to read Braille while wearing mittens.

But pulling out, on the other hand, is actually kind of fun. Hell, people do it even when they aren’t trying to avoid having unwanted kids. Why do you think they do it in porn all the time? Now that’s the kind of “white flight” I can get into!

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The Red Shtick Podcast, Episode 33

Editorial Staff — Thu, 02 May 2013 14:00:39 +0000

Publisher Jeremy White and contributors Sunny Weathers and Knick Moore kick off this week’s show with a discussion about Beyonce’s ridiculous demands in her tour rider. Sunny surprisingly has The Queen B’s back on this one.

Then Knick begins to totally geek out about IBM making a stop-motion cartoon featuring atoms before filling his gullet with an assload of chips. Once he manages to swallow them five minutes later, he briefly resumes his nerdfest before Sunny stuffs him in a locker with his underwear pulled over his head.

Sunny gets to take a mulligan and revisit the topic of what one superpower he would like to have. Later, the guys talk about brushes with death and reveal the closest they’ve each come to thinking they would surely die.

After the show comes to a brief halt for Sunny to take an “emergency” phone call, Knick elaborates on his article “The Worst of Us,” in which he translates statements made by a skeezy lawyer representing a family suing three companies for $18 million over a photo that’s been on the internet since 2004.

One can never have too many logos declaring one’s utter hilarity.

Following a discussion about the NBA’s Jason Collins coming out as the first openly gay male athlete from a major American sport, our trio wraps up the episode with an exhaustive review of local comedian Tony King’s new locally produced local TV show, which happened to be cancelled by a local TV station immediately after it received the first episode (according to a cover article in Dig).

[Explicit language]

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The Worst of Us

Knick Moore — Wed, 01 May 2013 19:16:43 +0000

There was a Fred Rogers quote circulating on the interwebs after the Boston bombings that goes as follows: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” It would seem that, aside from knitting all of Mr. Rogers’ sweaters, his mother spun a fistful of useful advice, as well.

Keep reading. We’ll get to it.

The first responders and civilians who dove in to help in Boston, as well as at the fertilizer plant explosion in Texas, are a picture of what humanity is at its essence: people willing to help strangers in times of crisis. As awful as we are to one another, every time something terrible happens, we let the banality of our daily squabbles slide for a bit until we can get back to normal. If you want to see heroes, just put normal people in a difficult situation and watch them emerge.

“If you want to see villains, watch a difficult situation and see who injects themselves into it for attention or profit.”

That said, if you want to see villains, watch a difficult situation and see who injects themselves into it for attention or profit.

When the gold bubble burst two weeks ago, Glenn Beck, who for years has been pushing his listeners to invest in it (not coincidentally because his only steady sponsor is a gold investment company), told his followers that despite losing thousands in the plunging market, now was the time to purchase more gold.

The dust hadn’t settled at the finish line in Boston before conspiracy nutbag Alex Jones was all over the place, ranting about how it was a government plot and only he knew the truth, thus taking the focus away from not only the hundreds of people injured in the attack but also the two women and 8-year-old boy who were killed and putting it squarely on him, an overweight, paranoid, attention whore.

Keep that in mind as you read this news story.

If you’re too busy to link to another article, let me sum it up for you: In 2004, a man with Down syndrome, named Adam Holland, was photographed proudly displaying a drawing he did for an art class for people with developmental disabilities. This photograph made it to the internet, where it has been PhotoShopped to show Holland holding up various signs that poke fun at his disability.

Not only can attorney Larry Craig count to potato, he can count to 18 million of them.

I think, when we’re being watched, we can all agree that this is in poor taste. What’s in worse taste is attempting to profit from it, as Larry Crain, the Hollands’ attorney, is attempting to do.

As the leechiest lawyers are wont to do, Crain has injected himself into the limelight under the guise of a white knight, rescuing Holland from the mountains of digital derision he has no idea are being directed at him, not by seeking an apology or the removal of the images, but instead $18 million in restitution. $18,000,000.

What follows are a series of quotes from Crain, translated into simple English. The derogatory terms used are merely my interpretation of his possible frame of mind, and in no way representative of language I, or any member of the The Red Shtick’s staff, would use in referring to the mentally disabled.

“He’s a very likable, very presentable young man who I don’t think fully appreciates the hurt that’s been inflicted on him,” translated: “This photogenic retard has no idea he’s being made fun of, so I’m going to explain it to him in detail, until he cries on camera and makes me millions.”

“It was devastating to the family emotionally,” translated: “They called me up, wanting to sue somebody, since God never paid up for that extra chromosome.”

“It was devastating to the family emotionally,” translated: “They called me up, wanting to sue somebody, since God never paid up for that extra chromosome.”

“They know there are three users of this photograph,” translated: “We’ve found three businesses with ties to million-dollar companies we can rape financially. I mean, look at this picture-perfect mongoloid! They wouldn’t dare take it to open court.”

“What was done here was done maliciously, at least on the part of some of those defendants, ascribing and using expletives and derogatory statements that degrade and dehumanize this young man,” translated: “Look, we all make fun of the waterheads, right? But these guys got caught, and I’m building a beach house. Moneymoneymoneymoney. Money!”

“We hope that it will change the law, make it tougher, put more penalties in place for those who use unauthorized images of other people,” translated: “CHA-CHING!!!! CHA-CHING!!!! CHA-CHING!!! CHA-CHING!!!”

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HERO HIGHLIGHT: Farrah Abraham – Teen Mom Turned Porn Star

Editorial Staff — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 18:35:35 +0000

Former Teen Mom Farrah Abraham gained notoriety for what came out of her vagina, but is really cashing in on what went into it (and other bodily openings), and by doing so, she stands to inspire countless young girls with her innovative career path to riches and fame.

Yesterday, the 21-year-old former MTV reality show star signed a deal worth nearly $1 million with adult entertainment company Vivid Entertainment for her professionally produced sex tape. The 70-minute DVD Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom is set for release online May 6 and in stores May 14.

She’s a TAILblazer for all young mothers with hot bodies, average looks, and a willingness to get plowed on camera.

When aspiring reality stars produce sex tapes to enhance their brand, they typically shoot them with costars who aren’t already professional porn actors. Plus, usually, a third party pushes the video so that the up-and-coming-and-coming-and-coming celebrity doesn’t have to get her hands dirty promoting the tape.

But Abraham’s broken the mold and has literally laid a new way to wealth for girls like her. She’s a TAILblazer for all young mothers with hot bodies, average looks, and a willingness to get plowed on camera.

James Deen: All-American backdoor “boyfriend.”

For her groundbreaking sex tape, the former cheerleader from Council Bluffs, IA, hired one of today’s most famous male porn stars, James Deen, to be her “boyfriend.”

This was a brilliant move by Abraham. Not only does Deen know how to properly bang a woman for the sake of the viewer, but the crossover star of Lindsay Lohan’s The Canyons also has an unusually strong female fan base, thus all but ensuring that at least a few ladies will buy Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom.

Moreover, instead of letting some surrogate handle the deal, Abraham showed that an emotionally immature (attention) whore from middle America can somehow handle high-stakes business negotiations.

Abraham leads daughter Sofia through flexibility drills to help ensure she can follow in her mother’s footsteps.

Not only that, but she turned her meeting with Vivid founder and co-chairman Steve Hirsch into a family affair by bringing along her father and 4-year-old daughter Sophia Laurent. And why not bring her 4-year-old little girl? After all, if it weren’t for her, no one would give two sh-ts about who Abraham was f–king, on camera or anywhere else, for that matter.

“We went after this movie as vigorously as any sex tape we’ve ever pursued,” Hirsch said in a statement. “We felt it was definitely worth it, not only because of Farrah’s popularity, but because the footage itself is amazing. Farrah is gorgeous, sexy, and absolutely uninhibited.”

Hirsch added, “Farrah’s looks remind me of a young Kim Kardashian, and we all know how her story turned out.”

Yes, we all know how her story turned out, except Kim got famous because of her sex tape(s) and then got pregnant, while Farrah flipped the script and used getting knocked up as a means to fame before parlaying that fame with a sex tape. That’s innovation that would make even Henry Ford proud!

Abraham has boldly proclaimed that she’s ready to dive into the porn industry labia-first.

Abraham further proved her marketing prowess a few weeks ago by originally denying ever shooting the sex tape, and then hinting she shot one, but only for personal use.

“I don’t … exist … anything about that,” she articulated to TMZ before stating that if such a tape did exist, “that’s my own personal thing.” That is what people in the business call a “tease,” not to be confused with a “cock tease,” which Abraham certainly is not.

And when Deen began to ruin her thoroughly well-laid promotional plans by spilling the beans, telling Today that the whole thing was planned out from the beginning and that producers requested he pretend Abraham was his girlfriend, the real brains of the operation showed how to handle such a blabbermouth, namely by cutting him down to size.

“His penis is small,” Abraham said of her costar’s manhood. “I haven’t seen many, but his was definitely not big.” She added that Deen should “get out of the porn industry” because he has a tiny penis.

Wow! You have to admire Abraham’s brass – some might call it COCKiness – in essentially equating one of today’s most popular adult film actors to Bucky Larson.

Furthermore, by talking smack about a bona fide, professional porn star’s tool, Abraham has boldly proclaimed that she’s ready to dive into the porn industry labia-first.

What adult film director in his right and deviant mind wouldn’t kill for Abraham’s “bring it on” attitude? It’s fairly obvious to all that her gaping orifices are thoroughly prepared to take on all comers.

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April 2013 Blood Alcohol Championship Series

Editorial Staff — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 11:10:51 +0000

Our top ten contestants were arrested and booked on suspicion of driving while intoxicated according to The Advocate reports from March 1-31, 2013:

10. Cornell Brown, 38, 1st-offense DWI, license plate required, reckless operation of a vehicle, driver’s license suspended/revoked, and improper lane usage.
It’s fairly safe to say Cornell’s parents had higher hopes for him when they named him after two Ivy League schools.

9. Manuel Monjaras H., 21, 1st-offense DWI, operating a vehicle without a lawful presence in the United States, and failure to maintain control/careless operation.
If only Manuel were legally here, he could open a day laborer business called Manuel Labor.

It’s fairly safe to say Cornell’s parents had higher hopes for him when they named him after two Ivy League schools.

8. Seung L., 25, 1st-offense DWI, hit-and-run, reckless operation of a vehicle, and simple criminal damage to property.
Yes, because driving around with the name “Seung” on one’s driver’s license isn’t dangerous enough.

7. Telisha S., 37, 1st-offense DWI, reckless operation of a vehicle, disobeying a red light, driving on a sidewalk, driving over a median, and improper lane usage.
Either Telisha was super blitzed or she was trying to run over an ex-boyfriend.

6. Anthony G., 30, 2nd-offense DWI, headlights required, reckless operation of a vehicle, unnecessary noise prohibited, and driver’s license not in possession.
Well, even though Anthony didn’t turn on his headlights, at least they could hear him coming.

5. Julie V., 36, 2nd-offense DWI, domestic abuse battery, and open container in the vehicle.
Julie is a mean drunk. The only thing that makes her more mean than drinking is her husband telling her she’s had too much to drink.

4. Catrice B., 29, 2nd-offense DWI, resisting an officer, flight from an officer, improper lane usage, and battery of a police officer.
Wow, another violently drunk woman. Maybe they’re suffering from roid rage after trying to artificially enhance their BACS performances.

3. Jill J., 38, 3rd-offense DWI, improper lane usage, failure to maintain control of a vehicle, possession of marijuana, and operating a vehicle while driver’s license suspended for prior offense.
This girl Jill drank down some swill
While holding a bit of dank.
She drove ’round, all over town.
And cops threw her in the tank.

If you’re under 35, this is Clyde. He had a mean right.

2. Clyde P., 50, 4th-offense DWI, reckless operation of a vehicle, failure to maintain control of a vehicle, and hit-and-run.
No one likes riding shotgun with Clyde. Whenever his GPS tells him “right turn,” he punches the f–k out of them.

1. Clarity R., 22, 3rd-offense DWI, speeding, reckless operation of a vehicle, failure to signal, operating a vehicle while under suspension for a prior offense, motor vehicle inspection required/expired, seat belt violation, flight from an officer, and driver’s license suspended/revoked.
It seems Clarity likes getting hazy. One thing is clear: Clarity has won the Judge Don Johnson Trophy.

Congratulations, Clarity. You’ve won this installment of the Blood Alcohol Championship. We’ll all be looking out for you on the roads. To claim your trophy, simply print this page and cut it out. Just be careful not to cut your finger in the process.

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The Bicoastal Hootenanny 0012: “Bon Anniversaire a la Louisiane” and “Chris Cariker Celebrates National Poetry Month”

Editorial Staff — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 20:37:51 +0000

This week, Adam makes sure to remind the world that he won the MVP award at the 2013 West Monroe High School Alumni Baseball Game and humble-brags about the scab that is still on his leg. Nate then shares the great news that, according to a recent study, the city with the biggest average penis size is New Orleans. Chris Cariker, an Okie, LSU alumnus, and current Chelo, steps into the studio to recite some of his poetry (if haiku counts as poetry) in honor of National Poetry Month, National Jazz Month, and Louisiana’s 210th (or 201st?) birthday.

Adam’s baseball strawberry after xv days.

In “The Probe,” there is a new twist in the story of Paul Kevin Curtis, the Tupelo, Mississippi, Elvis Presley impersonator who now appears to have been falsely accused of sending letters containing ricin to President Obama, Senator Roger Wicker, and Mississippi judge Sadie Holland. Nate then shares some zingers from President Obama at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, and Adam laments that the entire country pretends that they are at all funny. Chris’ accent conspicuously shifts to the south as the boys pay their final respects to the late country legend George Jones.

Actor/poet/Okie Chris Cariker celebrates National Poetry Month with us this week.

In “JD’s Office,” Adam talks about watching Coach on Netflix, Nate talks about reintroducing himself to The West Wing, and Chris analyzes about Batman: Under the Red Hood and other animated films in the DC Universe.

After a quick break, Adam tells the somehow-awesome tale of skipping out on Dr. John, Ray Charles, and Fats Domino at JazzFest 1999 to see the Goo Goo Dolls in Baton Rouge with a girl he liked at the time. This segues into “Balls,” where Adam talks about not watching the NFL draft and gives an NBA Playoffs update. The show finishes with Nate & Adam talking about Tommy and why The Who bassist John Entwhistle happened to write the two songs from the rock opera that have to do with child sexual abuse.

[Explicit language]

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Show Credits:

Director: Nathan Frizzell
Producer: Adam Wilson
Executive Producer: Jeremy White
Announcer: Emily Ann Hyndman

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The Top (However Many or So Because We Didn’t Really Count) Rain and Thunder and Lightning Songs

Stephanie Landry — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 14:00:05 +0000

It’s April – granted, it’s almost May – but it’s still April as I write this, and though we’ve seen rainier springs here in the Big Raggedy, there’s been enough as of late to keep rain songs floating through our collective Red Shtick heads. Not just any old rain songs, though: lightning, bolting, thunderous rain songs. Songs with violent claps of thunder or just steady emotional downpours are just what the Doctor (I assume Dre) ordered for when you are locked inside at the office or home – or, God forbid, on I-10 heading toward Ascension Parish – in inclement weather.

Without further ado, here are a few of our very favorite songs with meteorological sound events.

Starting with a steady drizzle and some sweet, tinkling piano is The Who’s “Love Reign O’er Me.” Before there was a Fat Joe to teach us that “making it rain” meant something altogether different, Pete Townshend and company showed us that “only love can make it rain.” And then something-something about lovers’ sweat, which is probably more in the vein of Fat Joe’s “Make It Rain.”

While you’re at it, I’m tired of your “Make it hail” jokes, so stop throwing rolls of pennies at me, Mom. Sh-t.

The Pet Shop Boys: So gay, it’s sinful.

The orchestral-sounding synthesizers, the vaguely house/gay bar-ish-sounding beat, and then the sound of clapping thunder … when followed by that wonderfully nasal tone of Neil Tennant’s voice, you have The Pet Shop Boys’ classic “It’s a Sin.” It’s ah, it’s ah, it’s ah … It’s a sin to have an average collected rainfall amount higher than Seattle. Look it up. We do.

Say what you want about Chris Gaines … and that terrible haircut and the tragic misuse of guy liner. I can give you a few minutes if you think it’s necessary to do that now.

Country superstar Garth Brooks set the standard for how thunder should roll. Controversial at the time of its release because of the assumed conclusion that it’s totally about a woman who shoots her cheating husband, “The Thunder Rolls” by Garth Brooks deserves a spot on your rainy day playlist. And you thought “Before He Cheats” was the ultimate revenge country song.

No umbrella is going to keep The Weather Girls from getting wet.

The unofficial drag queen theme song “It’s Raining Men” begins with a piano crescendo accompanied by the sound of a thunderous downpour. The sizable duo The Weather Girls (aka Two Tuns o’Fun) composed of Izora Armstead and Martha Wash really didn’t need the rain since the lyrics indicated they were already quite wet with excitement.

Wash’s powerfully soulful voice has been heard on many songs, including C&C Music Factory’s No. 1 hit “Gonna Make You Sweat,” even though her part was lip-synced in the music video by some Nubian hottie with a slammin’ body.

FYI: “It’s Raining Men” was written by Late Show With David Letterman music director Paul Schaffer. But he’s not gay, just Canadian.

Thunder and heavy raindrops are your lead-in to Modest Mouse’s “It Always Rains on a Picnic.” One of my personal favorite bands of past 20 years or so, Modest Mouse never fails to deliver sweet, sweet despair, even in its happiest tunes. Bonus: The lyrics contain fewer than 20 different words, so there’s no reason not to insanely weep and sing along.

Sade keeps the precipitation sexy with the now classic “The Sweetest Taboo.” Still a panty dropper after 30-plus years, Sade certainly knows how to keep it sultry. “Every day is Christmas, and every night is New Year’s Eve,” and any time – rain or shine – is good enough for a little Sade. And yeah, this song is almost certainly about anal.

Good thing this didn’t happen in real life, or she would’ve croaked during the first downpour.

The beginning notes on piano are unmistakable. In your head, Stephanie Seymour is still a Victoria’s Secret model, and she’s about to take the plunge with music’s maddest ginger, Axl Rose. It never happened in real life, though she did come dangerously close to being wedded to rock’s most neurotic microphone dancer. No list of epic rock ballads would be complete without Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain,” and neither is this one.

Even if you hate the band, or just Mr. Rose and Chinese democracy, you have to hand it to them for the song’s killer string section – and for a video that shows what seems like three full minutes of Slash molesting his guitar at high altitude with a Joe perched in his mouth. I never understood how his fro didn’t catch fire, yet Michael Jackson’s did.

This song has it all. Thunder! Lightning! Howling wind! Black dudes in leisure suits! “In the Rain” by The Dramatics is your rainy day, ’70s slow jam. Fun fact: The Dramatics were featured on a track of Snoop Dogg/Snoop Lion’s 1993 debut album Doggystyle. Bow wow wow yippie yo yippie yay.

From Eminem’s 1999 album The Marshall Mathers LP, the penultimate song for all disturbed fans and harassed artists is “Stan.” Featuring a loop of adult contemporary music goddess Dido’s ballad “Thank You,” even today, “Stan” is an odd mashup that absolutely works. And it features a very rainy night when deranged superfan Stan fully and violently loses his sh-t. Lesson learned: Never invite people to drink a fifth of vodka and drive.

Accompanied by sometime hairless Irish woman and Catholic Church nemesis Sinead O’Connor, the English band The The brings us “Kingdom of Rain,” a tragically urgent plea for a lost and dying love. It seems the musical synonym for emotional pain actually is rain. Luckily for subpar lyricists and poets, the words happen to rhyme, as well.

Always remember: It’s his world. You’re just a squirrel trying to get a nut.

The next tune is what a Jan Hammer Miami Vice soundtrack meeting a tropical depression inside of a Casio keyboard sounds like. Delightfully mid-’80s cheese poof Oran “Juice” Jones’ “The Rain” was a Top 10 hit in 1986.

If it were still 1986, you kids would be skating under a disco ball to this ditty. Instead, we invite you to hum along to this catchy number while you maybe fall asleep to dream of a sunshiny spring day. Dream on. I know Great Lakes that are drier than this town.

Last, and honestly, least, we have the crashing thunder, rain, and oddly tranquil mysticism of The Doors. To the chagrin of quite a few of my friends and acquaintances, I really have a hard-core dislike of Jim Morrison and The Doors. But no rain-theme playlist would be complete without their 1971 song “Riders on the Storm.” I think there should be a law against organ playing unless you’re in a church, but hey, I haven’t sold a bajillion albums, so what the hell do I know?

Interestingly, this song is rumored to have been played live only once, at The Warehouse in New Orleans, on December 12, 1970. This was also The Doors’ last public performance with Jim Morrison, who died six months later upon hearing that Mama Cass had choked to death on a ham sandwich.

We’re in a city that gets an average of almost 64 inches of rainfall a year, so our list here will probably only get you through the first 6-8 inches. After that, you’re on your own. Got a suggestion for a song that should’ve made our list? Give it to us in the comments.

Until then: Here’s to umbrellas, Cajun Reeboks, and the fools amongst us who can’t drive in a drizzle!

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The Red Shtick Podcast, Episode 32

Editorial Staff — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 15:21:39 +0000

This week, contributors Knick Moore and Jared Kendall join publisher Jeremy White for a relatively subdued episode … probably because Sunny Weathers finally took a week off from the show.

The guys start out by discussing E! News‘ Giuliana Rancic’s recent visit to LSU, as well as her emaciated frame and disproportionately huge set of teeth.

Afterward, they segue to another hated, skinny-ass woman, Gwyneth Paltrow, and how People named her the most beautiful woman only a week after Star said she was the most hated celebrity. They also mention Paltrow’s line of sexy bikinis for 4-year-old girls.

Proof that Jeremy is a man of his word.

Knick brings up Google Glass, which leads to he and Jared having a total geekgasm for a few minutes before Jeremy reminds them that this is not Knick’s upcoming podcast “Dorque.”

The trio then discusses the plight of an Ohio woman who was told she was too fat to tan a day after she paid $70 for a nonrefundable tanning package, which leads to a brief discussion about spray tanning.

Next, the fellas talk about Donald Trump battling a proposed wind farm, Jared’s data manipulation projects for The Daily Reveille, and the F-bomb-dropping anchorman in North Dakota, A.J. Clemente.

The guys begin to wrap up the show with suggestions on how to handle the delicate task of dealing with an obviously upset, yet doggedly reticent, female mate.

[Explicit language]

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Sphincter Spotlight: Louisiana DOTD

Editorial Staff — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 14:03:19 +0000

The Department of Transportation and Development is nothing but a bunch of sadistic jerks who like redesigning highways just to screw with Louisiana’s less-than-intelligent drivers.

Case in point: The new J-turns nearing completion in Ascension Parish.

What kind of perverted bastard gave the green light to install such an obviously overcomplicated feature in multiple spots along Airline Highway in Prairieville?

The $1.4 million state project replaces traditional left turns at some of the parish’s busiest intersections with these so-called J-turns, which are like really super-complex U-turns with traffic lights and lanes in the median to hold vehicles waiting to make turns.

Why not just give drivers a pop quiz on quantum mechanics instead? The typical Louisiana driver would have a better chance at acing it than figuring out how a goddam J-turn works.

Instead of turning left at the intersection like most people are accustomed to, drivers must counterintuitively drive past the intersection, use the J-turn down the road in the median, then go back to the intersection from the opposite direction, and turn right.

Why not just give drivers a pop quiz on quantum mechanics instead? The typical Louisiana driver would have a better chance at acing it than figuring out how a goddam J-turn works.

As The Advocate reported this weekend, the partially completed project has been met with lots of consternation and criticism from local commuters and business owners.

“There’s no explanation of what’s going on. It’s an accident waiting to happen,” Paige Borskey told The Advocate. And she’s right.

Thanks to DOTD, Louisiana highways are looking more like scenes from Mad Max movies.

The story mentions how drivers in a dedicated J-turn lane on the far left at one particular intersection are being cut off by impatient drivers in the dedicated left turn lane immediately to their right. Instead of turning left as state highway officials and the big-ass white arrow on the roadway say they should, these poor, mentally impaired drivers are making U-turns and damn nearly colliding with the legally prescribed J-turn traffic on their left.

It’s like a post-apocalyptic hellscape in Ascension Parish, all thanks to those debased SOBs at DOTD!

What kind of sick f–k thought it would be fun to watch area drivers – who have yet to master simple tasks such as using turn signals and headlights after dark – try to navigate their way through these taxpayer-funded labyrinths?

Sure, a 2009 U.S. Department of Transportation report based on computer modeling found that J-turns allow traffic to move through main arteries more efficiently by eliminating the need to reserve time for left turns in traffic light cycles.

But unless those computers took into account the intelligence (or lack thereof) of the vehicle operators, the models aren’t worth sh-t. After all, that was a nationwide study. This is Louisiana’s Ascension Parish we’re talking about here.

Now, of course, Ascension Parish has one of the best school systems in the state, and one might be inclined to think the people there should be able to figure out how J-turns work.

Even the name J-turn can be confounding to lots of drivers. It assumes that they know the entire alphabet.

However, this is still Louisiana. Thinking people are smart just because they have the best school system in Louisiana is like thinking the Nobel Prize for chemistry should go to the winner of the Special Olympics.

Even the name J-turn can be confounding to lots of drivers. It assumes that they know the entire alphabet.

At least the name U-turn sounds somewhat intuitive. It implies that “you” get to turn there.

J-turn, on the other hand, could be interpreted in all sorts of ways by people who aren’t sharp enough to figure out that the turns are named that because they’re designed to result in an upside-down J shape.

“But what if my name’s not Jay? I don’t get to turn?” ponders one hypothetical moron with a driver’s license.

“J-turns? What, they pass out doobies at the red light?” queries a stoner behind the wheel.

As 22-year-old bank security guard Jarell Matthew told The Advocate in reference to the new J-turns as he was pumping gas, “It’s jacked up.”

Yes, Jarell, it is indeed “jacked up.” Thanks for clarifying what the J really stands for.

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The Art of the Deal

Stephanie Landry — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 12:00:17 +0000

Deal breakers: We all have them. Most of us have many things we feel so strongly about that these matters can actually make or break how you view a person completely – from politics to religion to whether someone watches Two and a Half Men.

The good folks at urbandictionary.com define “dealbreaker” for us as such: “a word used to describe the eligibility of a friendship or relationship based on one trait or preference of the other person.”

As a wise woman once told me: You never go shopping without a list. Figuring out your personal deal breakers is a way to streamline your “don’t wants,” which can be as important as your “wants.”

Sometimes I wonder if I have TOO many deal breakers and am in reality too choosy (friends and family, however, would punch me in the taco and say no).

I’ve made many different things “deal breakers” in my dating life, and I’ve even had a few times when a friendship ended when one thing stood in the way – maybe an issue small to the other party involved, but huge and insurmountable for me. Often, the older we get, the choosier we are in who we spend our time with, and as that happens, more and more deal breakers seem to come into play.

I don’t mind being single, but sometimes I wonder if I have TOO many deal breakers and am in reality too choosy (friends and family, however, would punch me in the taco and say no). Just as a gut check, I decided to interview five very happily married people I know for their take on what constitutes a deal breaker for them.

Interview 1: My Sister & Practically My Sister. Both are happily married for at least a year, though I have known them as single people as well. Both have touchingly kind husbands whom I know and love. Both are also opinionated as hell and pull no punches.

Me: OK, tell me your deal breakers.

My Sister (MS): Peeing sitting down.

Practically My Sister (PMS): I have relatives who sit to pee due to bladder flow issues.

Me: (Makes mental note not to date within PMS’ family tree.)

If you’re obtuse regarding female body language, guys, this means she hates whatever the hell you’re doing.

MS: Touching behind his ears and smelling them. [Name of ex redacted] did this. I didn’t know that body part even had a smell. Watching Fox & Friends non-ironically.

PMS: (Listening to) Walton & Johnson. Using baby powder on your nuts. Pissing in the closet when you’re drunk. Calling his own sister hot. Working at the mall. Guylights. Farts and laughs. Thinking gay is a choice. Eats Kit-Kats without breaking into four pieces …

Me: Who does that?!

PMS: Communists. And really fat people working on a pack of four.

Me: In Soviet Russia, Kit-Kat eat you.

PMS: Pronounces Korean: “Ko-re-ann.” Thinking Lindsay Lohan is still hot.

MS: Saying things like “the Orientals.”

In Soviet Russia, Kit-Kat eat you.

PMS: Saying they’re not racist two seconds before they say the N-word.

MS: Credit score is less than 300. Says, “I ain’t racist but …”

PMS: Uses check-cashing places.

Me: Oh yeah, I dated a guy who didn’t believe in banks!

MS: Has children within five years of your age. Has stuck it in anyone you know. Is still trying to find himself. Colored denim, period. Uses “air quotes.”

Me: I have never met a dude who uses air quotes.

MS: Is between jobs. Is between houses.

“Wait, you mean to tell me there are women who DON’T enjoy getting peed on?”

PMS: Is named [Name of ex redacted]. Wants you to pee on him.

MS: Rants on Facebook about politics, conservative OR liberal. Wants to pee ON you.

PMS: Is anti-condom. Doesn’t believe in [insert name of sexual act normal people like].

Me: How about plays video games in nine-hour increments?

PMS: Hey, that’s my “me” time when (hubby) does that! … Pisses himself in a bar.

Me: OK, so I’m getting that piss is important to y’all …

MS: Crawls under the patio bar at last call.

PMS: (Listens to) Nickelback.

MS: Creed. Likes that Kid Rock/Sheryl Crow song.

Me: Ewww. Yeah, that’s terrible.

PMS: Likes Hank Jr. and Kid Rock. Says “Van Hagar.” Cries after sex.

Likes Hank Jr. and Kid Rock. Says “Van Hagar.” Cries after sex.

MS: Wants to go to Bayou Country Superfest. Constantly threatens suicide.

Me: Probably because you won’t go to Bayou Country Superfest …

MS: Thinks Dane Cook is funny.

PMS: Smokes meth.

Thinking this guy’s funny is also a deal breaker for being a respectable human being.

MS: Smokes anything NOT nailed down. Dips at all.

PMS: Thinks Jeff Dunham is funny. Nipple rings. Tongue rings.

MS: Sore loser. Bad winner.

PMS: Penis piercings.

MS: Any jewelry whatsoever.

PMS: Is a sandwich artist.

MS: Claims to be a fiscal conservative and a social liberal.

Me: Yeah, that’s annoying.

MS: Takes turns paying for dates – when it’s his turn: Quizno’s. Is married.

She knew better than to click on c–tdestroyer69′s okcupid profile.

PMS: Has an okcupid account under c–tdestroyer69.

MS: Doesn’t cuss – is like Ned Flanders. Too macho or not macho enough. Laughs too much. Constantly asks if you’re mad …

PMS: Which makes you mad!

MS: Uses words like “elucidate.” Drinks Tab. Is bisexual. Likes Legos.

PMS: Refers to it as “brown liquor.”

MS: Hipsters. Has more than one baby mama. Has had sex with more dudes than you. ‘Roids. Acts like he knows football when you know more about it than him. Can’t appreciate award-winning sarcasm. Lies so much he can’t keep his stories straight. Hates kids. Wears fishing shirts with the vents in the back.

Me: That’s pretty random. Fishing shirts.

Basically, he must be like me in every way, but not so much that I am annoyed.

PMS: Wears Tap Out. Any shirts with glitter or flocking. Complains about being lonely.

MS: Is mean to his mom – or his mom is a bitch.

PMS: Lives with his mom. Is a white guy with cornrows.

MS: Ever tells me to “calm down.” Takes pictures in his mirror with toothpaste all on it. Basically, he must be like me in every way, but not so much that I am annoyed.

Me: I was thinking that’s where we were getting to.

Interview 2: As a further gut check, I consulted a female friend who’s a longtime, happily married lady that we’ll call “Rebecca” and a married super couple, who for our purposes here will be called “Clark & Lois.” Star magazine would call them “Clois.” They are simply super enough to have one name. Also, Clark & Lois is a good couple’s name that I can actually remember. They are, in fact, married to one another and are also very happy.

Me: OK … deal breakers!

This little piggy went to market to get some goddam Lamisil.

Rebecca: Mr. Spontaneity – the guy who never wants to make plans ahead of time. He’s obviously trying to find something better, but I’ll do in a pinch … pisses me off. Guys who wear sandals or flip-flops and have gnarly, yellow toenails. If they can’t take care of their feet, I have NO INTEREST in seeing their unkempt man parts.

Lois: I would never date a guy who worships golf. If he can’t take a sh-t without donning argyle socks, he can drink his Tom Collins with the clubhouse whore. Also, I’d never date a Republican congressman. It would be too traumatic to be left for a 19-year-old twink who taps his feet in airport bathrooms.

Rebecca: Someone who calls me a “gal.” It just annoys me.

Lois: Mr. Jealous Man is also a ball of suck.

Rebecca: Someone with bad table manners. If they can’t sit at a table without putting their elbows on it and shoveling in the grub – OR if they talk with their mouth full: I’m done. I have never found Fred Flintstone attractive.

If he can’t take a sh-t without donning argyle socks, he can drink his Tom Collins with the clubhouse whore.

Lois: He is almost as bad as the stalker. He tracks your whereabouts and internet history. Ain’t nobody needs to see the disgusting sh-t I browse. Mr. Hipster Music Man! He wants to smoke weed all day and discuss his superior music taste with anyone who’ll sit long enough to listen. Mr. Blackberry/iPhone! You know those guys who would jerk off with their phones if able? They need to eat bombs.

Rebecca: Obviously, someone who whines or bitches excessively about his ex. I’m a great listener, but if I’m on a date, I shouldn’t have to switch into therapist mode to get through the evening. Once, at the end of a date, just as I was getting ready to leave his car, this guy leans over to give me a kiss … and he farts. A high, whistle-y one. I did feel really bad for him, but I couldn’t stop giggling. I got out of the car, trying to say “thank you” and “goodnight,” but I was laughing too hard. I never heard from him again. I would have gone out with him again, because he was nice, but I’m not sure he would have EVER leaned over to kiss me again.

Dude calls this his “pussywagon.”

Clark: Baby talk.

Rebecca: Someone with a really messy car. If the back floor mats are covered with burger wrappers, and there’s sticky stuff all over the cup holder … ewww. I certainly wouldn’t want to see the dude’s apartment. AND NO SPIT CUPS, EVER!

Lois: Rebecca would never date me.

Me: Nor me. My car was once quarantined by the CDC.

Lois: How ’bout the overbearing types who want to marry you and father your children after your first date? And my car houses the cure for cancer.

Rebecca: Or the ones who try to order for you (in restaurants). What am I, a toddler?

Clark: Girl deal breaker: If she supports the tea party. Unless she also supports the tea bag party. Then she gets a one-date waiver.

Rebecca: That’s a boy deal breaker, too. Also, any dude who thinks feminism is hairy broads burning their bras.

Lois: Gym rats!

Rebecca: Guys who wear high-water pants or pants that are so baggy they’re falling off their butts.

Clark: She wears pantyhose and open-toed shoes, and it’s all bunched up at the toe, like she’s shedding her reptilian skin.

Girl deal breaker: If she supports the tea party. Unless she also supports the tea bag party. Then she gets a one-date waiver.

Me: That grosses me out, too. Really, feet in any form.

Lois: Oh, Jesus! Polyester coach’s shorts with a tucked-in shirt.

Rebecca: Guys who talk through a movie. If you want to talk, let’s go to dinner or have drinks. If we’re watching a movie and you chatter through it, I will tell you to STFU in no uncertain terms. It’s rude.

Clark: She was wearing fancy hiking boots when you met her in the coffee shop downtown, but when she asks you to take her hiking, she wears flip-flops. This same person also will have no pockets and insist that you carry all of her belongings, including the keychain with two keys and 10 pounds of keychain flair. She is frightened by dogs, especially small ones that hump her stuffed animals. She hates the sound of Bob Dylan’s voice.

Rebecca: One more thing that is a definite deal breaker for me. If a guy is a jerk to wait staff in a restaurant, then it’s only a matter of time before he’s a jerk to me. Rude, condescending or overly demanding behavior is intolerable.

There you have it: deal breakers. I guess I can sum what I’ve learned from these deep discussions in just a few words: My married friends are just as picky as I am, and that’s OK.

I think being choosy is a great choice. Our time here on Earth is valuable. And who wants to waste it with someone who possibly wears vented fishing shirts tucked in his polyester coach’s shorts? Also, the next time someone tells you it’s not you, it’s me – it probably is just him.

Look on the bright side: There’s always a chance we single folks will meet the one guy or girl who is so spectacular that we forget that we once had any deal breakers at all.

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TNA Wrestles Its Way Inside of Us

Michael Atkinson — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 14:50:48 +0000

There’s a storm brewing in the world of professional wrestling … a storm of opportunity.

On Saturday, May 4, the storm will reach its peak at the center of rivers, known as the River Center. TNA Wrestling’s Gut Check Seminar will bring together the best of Baton Rouge’s No. 37 ranked wrestling talent pool.

Not a wrestler? TNA is looking for aspiring announcers, managers, referees, and valets as well.

How can you assess someone’s ability to manage a star’s career in two hours? Is there anything about this sh-t that isn’t fake?

What the f–k is a valet, you ask? … Googling … It’s a talentless person who provocatively walks the wrestlers from the dressing room to the ring. It’s harder to park cars in a small garage.

So, they are going to assess the abilities of hopefuls for all of these different roles and give advice and critiques in two hours? How can you assess someone’s ability to manage a star’s career in two hours? Is there anything about this sh-t that isn’t fake?

TNA: The wrestling might be fake, but the douchebags are real.

This all reminds me of when my dad took me to an “audition” at age 12. We were herded into a small room and given small scripts to practice. It tasted just like an audition up to that point.

I was nervous, but I read my lines diligently and tried my best to prepare. My character was a 12-year-old boy who wanted some juice. I was 12 years old and thirsty, but somehow I managed to f–k it up and suck anyway.

Even at that age, I knew my audition was sh-t, but I was showered with praise from the “scouts.” It was like dropping the game-winning pass in the end zone and then getting a nosebleed and crying, but everyone was cheering and carrying me off the field chanting “MVP.” Emotions were mixed.

Next, I was directed to an even smaller room with the rest of the trolls. (This building was like a giant set of Russian dolls.) They told us how above-average all of us were, and then they passed out folders of portfolios we could purchase. Aha!!! Bullsh-t!

I guess what I am trying to say is that I am very confident in the legitimacy of a professional wrestling career seminar. Let’s take a look at the itinerary:

You, too, could be part of this elite collective!

2 p.m.: A tumor of tribal tattoos, chinstrap beards, back acne and clownishly made-up women who managed to scrape together the $250 participation fee squeeze themselves through the front doors.

2:10 p.m.: Insecure small talk and sizing up of competition.

2:30 p.m.: A semi-recognizable former pro wrestler comes out to semi-recognizable applause.

2:30 p.m.: A semi-recognizable former pro wrestler comes out to semi-recognizable applause.

2:31 p.m.: Lies and propaganda.

2:45 p.m.: Assessment of skills.

2:50 p.m.: Beef jerky and energy drink lunch.

3 p.m.: Diarrhea musical toilets.

3:30 p.m.: The reddening – an unnaturally red person explains how we as a people can make ourselves redder.

3:45 p.m.: Homoerotic compliment session – it’s gonna get weird.

4 p.m.: Everyone heads to City Bar, The Office, or another douchey place and waits five hours for it to open.

And they all try again next year.

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The Bicoastal Hootenanny 0011: “Calico Cooper”

Editorial Staff — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 20:52:14 +0000

2nd baseman Nate Frizzell of the Hollywood Kickball League Winter Champions the Jockoffs, Hollywood Recreational Center, Hollywood, California.

Nate & Adam talk a bit about children and manners, and Nate brings good news of his kickball team, The Jockoffs, who won the Hollywood Kickball League Winter Championships Saturday. Nate then brings more good news about his web series Bloomers, which has been renewed for a second season, and shares a pre-recorded interview with one of his co-stars, Calico Cooper.

In “JD’s Office,” the boys share their respective opinions of 42, which both of the guys found slightly underwhelming. Nate follows with his review of The Place Beyond the Pines.

There was a full slate on “The Probe” this week, which was somewhat dominated by the Boston Marathon aftermath. The boys lament the explosion in West, Texas, as well as the recent murder of Kaufman (TX) County District Attorney Michael McLelland and his wife and explore a few sides of the ongoing gun debate.

Calico Cooper of the webseries Bloomers joins her co-star Nate for an interview this week.

“Balls” followed with talk of the NBA Playoffs before Adam shared his criticism of The Daily Reveille and The Advocate of Baton Rouge and how each dealt with LSU running back Alfred Blue’s comments on the possibility of having a gay teammate.

[Explicit language]

Subscribe on or

Or email the guys at nateandadam@theredshtick.com.

Show Credits:

Director: Nathan Frizzell
Producer: Adam Wilson
Executive Producer: Jeremy White
Announcer: Emily Ann Hyndman

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Better Late Than Never

Knick Moore — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 15:47:51 +0000

In Louisiana, April showers most certainly do not bring May flowers. The flowers never left; at no point in our “winter” does it really get cold enough to kill off the flowers if you’re nice enough to throw a blanket over them when we get a freeze warning.

Instead, April showers bring the muggy warmth that follows you around like a morbidly obese jogger breathing open-mouthed on the back of your neck. April is disgusting.

Normally, I take advantage of April Fools’ Day to offer a list of pranks to pull on your friends, family, and coworkers, but I’m a little late this month … which is going to make this year’s list of pranks WAAAYYYYY BETTER!!! No one is going to see them coming, what with April Fools’ Day being a year off. This is going to be epic!!!

TAURUS (Apr. 20-May 20): Air horns can be purchased at the dollar store in packs of two. We’ve all seen them under office chairs and behind doors, but what about all the chairs and doors? Your coworkers will have PTSD by the end of the day.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Super Glue instantly bonds plastic to skin. Keyboard keys pop off with minimal resistance. Do the math.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Generic gelatin dessert sells for about a quarter a box, meaning you could fill a 50-gallon drum for about $100. What can we fit in a 50-gallon drum? Now all you need is a restaurant willing to let you borrow its walk-in fridge.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Any good interior designer will tell you that nothing has quite the bang for the buck when redecorating as paint. Perhaps you know someone whose office/home/car could use some sprucing up. I know it sounds over the top, but it’s easy to do over the weekend and just as easy to cover up. Unless you do their car, of course, in which case might I suggest the General Lee or Smokey and the Bandit themes.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Gift-wrapping someone’s belongings is always a treat, but consider going a step further and using tinfoil. Make sure to pay attention to details. For instance, straighten out their paper clips, wrap them, and bend them back.

Super Glue instantly bonds plastic to skin. Keyboard keys pop off with minimal resistance. Do the math.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Zip ties are far cheaper than should be legally allowed (you can get about 650 at Home Depot for $9). Let the muses speak to you with this one. Silverware, scissor handles, the sink sprayer … just do what feels right.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Digital watches can be purchased in large quantities on eBay. Set the alarms to different times and hide them. If you want to be extra-meta, try fitting one into the smoke detector.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Everyone loves getting mail. Thankfully, most supermarkets have a wall of brochures for places that want nothing more than to receive someone’s address and send him some. Oftentimes, they’re nice enough to give said address to other willing companies. A stuffed mailbox is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Have you ever been to Craigslist’s “Missed Connections” page? Help a friend meet new people by posting something especially vague such as: “Saw you in Wal-mart. You were wearing jeans and a winning smile.”

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Fill your victim’s office/car/home with balloons. Water balloons. Not enough for you? Fill half of the balloons with vinegar and food coloring and spoon baking soda into the other half and inflate them. Leave jacks all over the floor.

PISCES (Feb. 19-Mar. 20): Buy $20 worth of neon tetras (should get you about a dozen) and upper-deck your friend’s toilet. Next time he flushes, his toilet will magically fill with glowing little fish. It will be miraculous.

ARIES (Mar. 21-Apr. 19): No one expects an Easter egg hunt this far out. Especially when you use raw eggs. Hide them all over the place, and those little guys will do most of the work.

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BACS Honorable Mention: Reese Witherspoon

Editorial Staff — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 14:00:49 +0000

To qualify for a BACS honorable mention, one must generally be arrested for drunk driving. However, in this case, we’ll waive that unwritten requirement in the interest of fairness to America’s (former) sweetheart, Reese Witherspoon.

Reese Witherspoon won an Oscar for her performance in Walk the Line. Her husband was arrested for DUI because he couldn’t.

According to Variety, the 37-year-old actress was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct early Friday morning in Atlanta, where’s she’s filming the movie The Good Lie, after repeatedly disobeying instructions from her husband’s arresting officer.

The account states Witherspoon’s hubby and agent James Toth was pulled over just past midnight under suspicion of driving while intoxicated after reportedly weaving across a double line on one of the ATL’s umpteen thousand Peachtree Streets.

Even if the cop did know who she is and watched every one of her movies at least 10 times, she still deserved to go to jail for copping an attitude while riding in a Ford Focus.

Toth looked disheveled and had a smell of alcohol on his breath, police said, so they administered a field sobriety test in the Walgreens parking lot Toth had pulled into.

Apparently, Witherspoon did not care for the methodical pace at which the officer was conducting the test. The star of Sweet Home Alabama, Legally Blonde, and Walk the Line became increasingly agitated while sitting in the couple’s silver 2013 Ford Focus.

After being told to stay in that super bitchin’ ride for her own safety, the officer reported Witherspoon “began to hang out the window and say that she did not believe that I was a real police officer.” Perhaps she’s been in Hollywood too long and thinks everyone else is just playing a part opposite her.

James Toth handles his liquor as well as he handles his wife/client.

The arresting officer responded by telling “Mrs. Witherspoon to sit on her butt and be quiet,” just like any Southern gentleman would do in that situation.

Despite telling an officer that he had only one drink hours earlier, a Breathalyzer test administered on the scene revealed Toth had a blood-alcohol level of 0.139, close to double the legal limit for driving. That must have been one big-ass drink.

Once the 41-year-old Toth was placed under arrest for drunk driving, his Academy Award-winning wife exited their supercool whip and was immediately instructed to get back in the car. The report states Witherspoon “stated that she was a ‘US citizen’ and that she was allowed to ‘stand on American ground.’”

Even though she was ostensibly wasted just as much as (if not more than) her husband, Witherspoon expressed what all grade-school civics students know: Every American citizen has a right to stand wherever the hell she wants as long as it’s in America. Whether it’s someone else’s private property, a toxic waste dump, or Area 51, all American citizens have a constitutional right to stand wherever the red, white and blue flies overhead.

She apparently also thinks an Oscar can get your spouse out of a DUI, too.

“Do you know my name?” Witherspoon asked the officer.

There’s no mention in the report if Witherspoon whipped out her smartphone to show the officer her imdb profile.

There’s no mention in the report whether he tried looking her up on imdb.com on the laptop in his police cruiser.

When the officer replied that he didn’t need her name at that time, Witherspoon told him, “You’re about to find out who I am.” Again, there’s no mention in the report if Witherspoon whipped out her smartphone to show the officer her imdb profile.

When she informed the officer that he was “going to be on national news,” he in turn “advised Mrs. Witherspoon that was fine.”

Reese Witherspoon and James Toth in happier, (legally) blonder, more sober times.

You know, even if the cop did know who she is and watched every one of her movies at least 10 times, she still deserved to go to jail for copping an attitude while riding in a Ford Focus.

Both Toth and Witherspoon were handcuffed and briefly jailed. They were released on bond at around 3:30 a.m.

The couple has been married since March 2011. In September, they had a son named Tennessee James Toth, possibly named after the type of whiskey that led to his conception.

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HERO HIGHLIGHT: PSC Commissioner Clyde Holloway

Editorial Staff — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 13:24:35 +0000

In today’s world run by greedy businesspeople, there’s one man in Louisiana leading the fight against the mean, green, solar panel machine and its money-lusting “free energy” peddlers: Clyde Holloway.

Holloway is the only Louisiana Public Service Commissioner brave enough to take on that money-grubbing special interest group disguising itself as “eco-friendly” homeowners.

Clyde Holloway: Champion of the common utility company.

The former congressman has courageously put forth a proposal that would lower the amount that poor, struggling utilities companies pay for the electricity they buy from those covetous churls who own solar panel power equipment from the “retail” price (8 to 11 cents a kilowatt-hour) to the wholesale price (3 to 4 cents a kilowatt-hour) plus 1 cent.

After all, how in the world can impoverished energy companies be expected to pay an outrageous 8 to 11 cents per kwh for energy from homeowners? That’s what their customers pay, for Christ’s sake!

How in the world can impoverished energy companies be expected to pay an outrageous 8 to 11 cents per kwh for energy from homeowners? That’s what their customers pay, for Christ’s sake!

But these bloodsucking sun lovers are besmirching Holloway’s good name, claiming he’s on the take from downtrodden utility companies of meager means. Like they have any extra money to influence a PSC member! Pshaw!

Yet these barons of big sun insist they bought and installed their solar equipment under the auspices that they would be able to sell their excess energy back to the hapless utilities companies at the same rate those companies charge them for electricity. “But you promised!” they cry.

The modern-day face of capitalistic greed.

Promises? Oh, grow up, Pollyanna! This is Louisiana, for crying out loud. The state where people voted to legalize the lottery because they thought the proceeds would be dedicated to education.

Besides, Clyde Holloway understands utility companies can’t be expected to pay full retail for traded-in electricity when a home’s meter starts turning the other way, no more than a car dealership can be expected to pay full retail for a traded-in vehicle. Those energy companies have so many costs to cover to get that electricity ready to resell it back to other customers on the grid.

They have to pay to have those used electrons detailed and vacuumed. There’s inventory costs while those used electrons sit in the transformers, waiting to be sold. And when they do get sold, the utility company has to pay a used electricity salesman a commission.

And just like the Kelley Blue Book sets the standard for what used cars are worth, there should be a Kelley Blue Book for electricity. For instance, the more mileage energy has, the lower its trade-in value. Last time we checked, all solar energy has more than 93,000,000 miles on it. That’s a HUGE depreciation in value!

So to all these net-metering tycoons trying to game the system and disparage Holloways’s sterling reputation, you can take your solar panels and shove them where the sun don’t shine.

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Tragedy, or Why I’m Never Having Children

Knick Moore — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 12:57:37 +0000

Some of you are going to read this and dismiss it outright. Give me just a second, though, OK?

“The Boy in the Plastic Bubble Redux”

I hate to say it, folks, but your kids are going to be OK.

I know, I know. You want to freak out about how they’ll never live in the world you had as a kid. Your parents and their parents and their parents and on and on all felt the same thing. “Look at these kids nowadays, with their high-cut loincloths and fire and wheels and such. I never had to use an atlatl to kill a saber-toothed tiger. We had spears.”

Do you even remember the ’80s?! Not a day went by when adults weren’t freaking out about nuclear holocaust or killer bees or how we were all going to get AIDS.

Were it possible to promise you that they will never get sick, or get into an accident, or be accosted by some random maniac, I’d tell you. But we both know that’s impossible. That said, they’re going to be OK.

I know this for two reasons: 1) They’re kids, and 2) They’re your kids.

Do you understand the infinitely impossible series of random occurrences that brought you to this point in time? Can you grasp the supernovas and volcanic eruptions and fly farts that kicked out the atoms that eventually became you? You’re amazing!

I mean, look at you. You could be doing anything in the world right now, and you’re reading some pointless pap written by a man who spent three years working on a novel that as of this moment has only sold 17 copies. (No, I just checked: 16. 16 copies.) Do you have any idea how terribly interesting that makes you as an individual?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, kid.

I was browsing my Facebook friends list the other day in preparation for another project, and realized that I know hundreds of incredibly mundane yet painfully fascinating individuals. In the past couple days, several of those individuals have posted their longing for the old days when they were safe and there was a world their kids could live safely in.

That world never existed. The only difference was we were kids and we got over it.

Do you even remember the ’80s?! Not a day went by when adults weren’t freaking out about nuclear holocaust or killer bees or how we were all going to get AIDS. And yet, here we are.

Maybe as children we had the ability to recognize how panicky and dimwitted adults all were. Or maybe as kids we still had the power to say to ourselves, “Well, that certainly sucks, but my God, we’re having pizza for dinner.”

As kids we still had the power to say to ourselves, “Well, that certainly sucks, but my God, we’re having pizza for dinner.”

I don’t want to dismiss tragedy, and I’m not trying to; however, I also don’t want to lend credence to all those people on the social networks freaking the hell out as though the world is coming to an end. It most certainly IS NOT.

My point is, you were a kid during some pretty nasty events, and I’m not even going into the things you personally had to survive that no one else knows about firsthand, but you’re here and you’re doing alright. I know that because you’re reading this on some electronic device that is prohibitively expensive and that you wouldn’t have access to without a job or spouse or parent who cares enough about you to let you use it.

You being OK brings me to reason #1 that your kids are going to be alright: They’re kids.

Oh, stop worrying. It’s not like he has all his teeth yet.

Terribly malleable things, children. Not that I have them, but maybe that’s why I don’t see them as these fragile little porcelain psyches that’ll never be able to deal with what the world of the future will throw at them.

I’m an uncle all the way to my bone marrow, always have been. Since I was 5 years old, I’ve always been the person in the room thinking, “Man, somebody should really call an adult about this before things get out of hand. Well, let’s give it just a minute.”

That’s uncle thinking. An adult (i.e., parent) would do the appropriate thing and step in.

As irresponsible as it sometimes seems, uncle thinking afforded me the opportunity to see kids dealing with life on their own, because kids can spot a phony a mile away (learned that from Fred Rogers and it has always been true). They know when they’re being lied to and when they are in the presence of an adult who’ll be straight with them.

Parents will lie to children because they have their best interest at heart; uncles don’t care. “No, you can’t OD on weed. In fact, couple it with Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz and you’ve got a pretty awesome evening ahead of you.”

Parents will lie to children because they have their best interest at heart; uncles don’t care. “No, you can’t OD on weed.”

I worked at an unnamed zoo for a year as an educational curator, which means I got to live my dream job. Every day, I went to work and got to talk to kids about animals, often while holding said animals in my hands. It was every bit as fantastic as you can imagine it, mainly because it was a job where it really paid to have uncle thinking.

Hold on. I’ll be with you in just a sec.

When you don’t censor yourself about animal facts, kids get really interested in animals. I’m not saying I had frank discussions about reproduction or anything, but when you walk a group of fifth-graders past an open acre of land in which two giraffes are going at it, and they ask what’s going on, you have no qualms about saying, “They’re mating; ask your parents. Up next, the rhinoceros. Did you know their horns are made out of the same thing as your fingernails?”

And do you know what happened? We went and saw the rhinos. The kids didn’t pick at me about it, because I was honest. They didn’t collapse at the reality, either.

One morning, I was standing in front of a cage of rhinoceros hornbills, which are massive birds with beaks the length of your arm. They are also fond of fruit, rodents, and other birds, a fact brought to the attention of the 25 six-year-olds standing there with me when a cardinal darted through the cage and was snatched out of the air by one of the hornbills and loudly eaten in front of them.

They looked to me in horror. “It happens” was all I said. And we went to see the rhinos.

I know, I know. I’m not a parent. “It’s different when it’s YOUR KID. You’ll see if you ever have any of your own.” I get it.

But get ME for a second: Your kids are going to be OK. I know this because I know you, and you’re doing pretty good yourself. As a parent, it’s your curse to freak out at every waking moment about your child’s future. But I’m not worried about your kid’s future any more than I’m worried about mine.

It’s not as la-de-da as it sounds, either. I am hardly the grasshopper laughing at the ants. But when I look at all the amazing people who question me as to why I’m not having kids, all I have to say is, “I don’t have to” – I trust yours.

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The Red Shtick Podcast, Episode 31

Editorial Staff — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 15:09:39 +0000

Publisher Jeremy White joins contributor Sunny Weathers and special guest comedian Howard Hall. The guys kick off the show by discussing Howard’s recent comedy gig on the Tom Joyner Fantastic Voyage cruise. They also talk about how each of them got his start in standup comedy, as well as the current state of the craft in Baton Rouge.

Sunny then talks about his recent eviction of a family of raccoons from his attic and the subsequent racist jokes his friends made about it on Facebook.

“This picture should be in the dictionary next to the word creep.” – Sunny Weathers

Afterward, Jeremy prompts Howard and Sunny to debate which dreams, if any, a person should ever share with another human being. This leads Sunny to explain why he doesn’t have kids, which leads to the news story of a 15-year-old Georgia boy who shot his parents for making him do his chores when he really wanted to look up a Bible verse.

The guys then have a discussion about the Boston Marathon bombing, during which Jeremy plays a voicemail from his mother.

Howard wraps up the show with a plug of his soon-to-be-released comedy DVD Hallarious (available at HowardHallComedy.com), but not before Sunny passes around an awesomely creepy photo of his 23-year-old self donning hair and a mustache.
[Explicit language]

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Theme music by Bob Prattini

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The Bicoastal Hootenanny 0010: “The West Monroe High School Alumni Baseball Game”

Editorial Staff — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 01:04:17 +0000

West Monroe head baseball head coach Ross Blankenship presents Adam Wilson with the official West Monroe High School Alumni Baseball Game Most Valuable Player Bat at Shelby Aulds Memorial Baseball Field

Adam pods from Chelsea in Manhattan this week, fresh off his weekend in West Monroe for the annual WMHS Alumni Baseball Game, in which he won the Most Valuable Player award despite actually never having played baseball for the Rebels.

Adam’s stats from the weekend:

Old Timers’ game: 2-2, RBI, 0 E
Spring Chickens game: 1-3, K, RBI, 0 E, MVP

Nate then tells of Kobe Bryan’t Achilles injury and the slew of distraught Lakers fans who are forced to be frontrunners for the Clippers.

The boys each write a haiku for National Poetry Month at the request of listerner/friend Chris Cariker of Manhattan for “La Boîte aux Letters,” and Adam shares a tragic love story that happened to him because of haiku in college.

The “strawberry” Adam got from sliding into home during the old-timers’ game.

In “JD’s Office,” Nate and Adam disagree on 42; Nate is skeptical, and Adam is excited. Nate then bitches about the TV series Bates Motel and how it’s not really the prequel to Psycho that it was cracked up to be.

In the probe, the boys talk of a possible hate crime that happened on a bus in Lincoln, Nebraska, and whether or not Jesse Jackson and/or Al Sharpton will enter the dialogue. Ain’t nobody know where they at. The best news story of the week, however, is that about Justin Bieber’s insensitive comment in the guestbook at the former home of Anne Frank.

Tune in next week, when our guest will be Calico Cooper.

[Explicit language]

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Or email the guys at nateandadam@theredshtick.com.

Show Credits:

Director: Nathan Frizzell
Producer: Adam Wilson
Executive Producer: Jeremy White
Announcer: Emily Ann Hyndman

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