You’ve got the touch. You’ve got the power.

I asked Josh what he thought of the Transformers movie. He said, “Holy shit! It’s one of my top 10 favorites! The final battle with Unicron was fucking life changing. I mean c’mon. Eric Idle as Wreck-Gar!? Fuck Yeah!”

“No, the new one. The Michael Bay one.”

His verbatim response is chronicled in the adjacent panels. Also, the gear-mangled, chewed-up remains of one Mr. Lebeouf is a far less desirable prize to keep in one’s chest than the Autobot Matrix of Leadership.

I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I hear an Xbox-ticon rapes some dude’s face off. So there’s that.

This comic was originally going to feature Spike (of Spike and Sparkplug fame). Perhaps you need to read up on the Witwicky family. Child protective services should have removed Spike from that household. Not only was he a teenager forced to work on an oil refinery platform, but he was encouraged to spend his free time embroiled in a cybernetic civil war for galactic conquest. They eventually gave him a job on the moon. I shit thee not. The moon.

I think that’s why they call it the Jesus Phone.

Josh camped out for an iPhone on Friday, knowing good and well Uncle Steve was flooding the stores with multiple millions of them at launch. That’s like camping out for the Unrated Director’s Cut of Norbit. Trust me, there’s going to be one left when you get there.

I haven’t procured the device in question yet, but I have been able to play with one for about 30 minutes. It was extraordinarily difficult to put down. It BEGS to be touched. Remember when Buffy first took hold of the scythe? Yeah, it was a lot like that. I KNEW it was mine. I was instinctively able to wield it.

And just to be clear, they do call it the Jesus phone.

Why a Wiimote cousin? Why not an axe?

Because it’s dull, you twit, it’ll hurt more.

Anyone? Robinhood: Prince of Thieves? Anyone? Guy of Gisbourne? No?

Moving on. I just finished Season 3 of Battlestar Galactica. I’m late to this party, but I brought the Barbecue Funyuns. Josh had been telling me for years that I was missing out by not watching BSG. It wasnt that I didn’t care. Oh, contraire. I cared too much.

When I love something, the good people at VivendiUniversalMTVFOXComedyCentralEXXonMobilMrsBairdsBread start the death clock (not the DethKlok). I told that bald headed bastard that If I ever loved this Battlestar that it would be swiftly taken from us all. Rendered asunder like so much Wonderfalls, or dare I say it, Firefly. Why did you leave us Captain Tightpants? Why?

Well, I signed up for the Netflix, put seasons 1 and 2 in the que and immediately started watching BSG…every night. 3 and 4 episodes at a time. “Riker’s Beard, this is good scifi!” I says. 14 seconds later it got canceled. Thats right, my love is cursed. Woe unto to yee that knows my love, for yee shalt be cancel-ed. ALL ARE CANCEL-ED!

Josh tried to convince me that I was part of the problem for not watching it sooner. I pointed out that downloading HDTV rips of the episodes from Bittorrent wasn’t exactly supporting the show either.

I think I actually heard him “Herumph” at that point.

Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At Wit’s End

For those of you playing the Hijinks Ensue home game (score cards available at Kroger with any purchase of a 20 oz. soda or can of Pringles) thats (2) comics about pirates and (2) mentions of forced sexual intercourse between bears and men.

The first Pirates was pure movie-going fun. It was a simple story (thank god Disney didn’t make a movie about the Tea Cups) but visually enriched, jaunting in its pace, and action-packed (the movie was literally PACKED with various actions). The sequel was equally enjoyable and achieved things with Octopus-face technology previously thought possible only in maritime nightmares. The threequel, however, was really just the REST of the 2nd movie. I get it. I took the red pill. I know what the Matrix is, Cowboy Curtis. And much like the Matrix 3pete, the 3rd one was a turd.

The movie stretches itself thin while struggling to retcon a bunch a bullshit about Pirates of the world sharing a common bond and noble way of life (in the same way modern day murderers and rapists will give each other a knowing wink and nod when they pass in the grocery store). Then theres a 20 minute segment with Witty Jack in Pirate Purgatory. As it turns out, Hell is other pirates. Specifically other Jack Sparrows. Jack is damned for what seemed like an eternity to captain the Black ~~Rock~~ Pearl on an ocean of desert salt crewed entirely by copies of himself. Johnny Depp with 40 other Johnny Depps. You know he’d hit that. Unwashed dopple-johnny (depp-ganger?) orgies would abound.

I was hoping the Keith Richards’ cameo would provide some much needed entertainment value. His performance wasn’t just sublime, it was subliminal. Blink and you’d miss it. Oh and just in case you don’t understand that Keith is a musician of sorts, he holds a guitar in his scene to clarify things.

3 hours and $25 (Buncha-Crunch be expensive, yo) later a Jamaican lady grew 200 feet tall and I went home.

Self Righteous in Diggnation

I was listening to Kevin Rose and Alex Albrecht debate the merits of Microsoft’s new “Surface” technology on Diggnation’s 100th Vidcast (or Tube-Cast, or Pod-Pod or Robotron-Talkie). Needless to say Kevin wasn’t having any of this noise in HIS house (who’s house? Run’s house). No matter that the Surface offers everything a geek would ever want from a piece of technology shy of a reacharound and a shoulder to cry on afterwards, Kevin couldn’t be swayed.

If Bill Gates cured gonorrhea, Kevin would rather watch his dick turn black and fall off than except the cure’s EULA.

Remember when Kevin Rose used to shine heatsinks, and benchmark RAM for Leo Laporte on The Screen Savers (I had flying toasters and bad dog)? Now he has a 60 million dollar company. I guess that’s cool. If you’re into millions of dollars and dating web-porn stars. I guess.

Josh actually indulges in the particular form of disgusting illustrated above quite often. Mmmm, fake cheese powder, corn chips and peanut butter. Just like no sane person ever used to make.