Life imitates 1980's SNL parody

Niklas Stoepel is a 17-year-old synchronized swimmer with Olympic dreams. He has the moves (ie. "Ballet leg", "Lift", "Flamingo"). He has the desire. Unfortunately, he also has a penis.

Men are a no-no at the international level -- his application has been rejected by the governing body -- so for now, this aquatic Billy Elliot will remain Germany's little secret.

Unfortunately, the chlorine may be having an adverse effect on his perception: "Someone at a party was making fun of this guy who swims with a bunch of girls. He said that in front of me, not realizing that I was that boy. The others all laughed, and I think it was more embarrassing for him than it was for me." Really.

More shrinkage here.

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Bonus: Here's a clip from that SNL classic.

Garrito's Foto Friday: Truth in Advertising

©2009 Garrito

Word to the wise

I came across this while searching earlier for today's random shiny object on flickr. Figured I might as well post it.

No, Sally's hemorrhoids aren't enflamed. Sally is burning. Why is Sally burning? I'm pretty sure Billy the sick little bastard torched her.

Click on the image to see the whole image, including Billy trying to dispose of Sally's body.

Colorado has a very dirty mind

Sure, a license plate like THEPIG is fine and dandy. But try to express your feelings about vegan food and the state makes you out to be some trashy over-sexed nympho whore on wheels.

All Kelley Coffman-Lee wanted to do was tell the world how she felt about tofu: "It's not a dirty, evil food. It's very wholesome." [I'd like to learn more about these dirty, evil foods.]

But no-o-o-o. Colorado DMV officials saw through that little charade. They know the difference between TOFU and TO-F-U. They should, because they do the latter whenever you need new tabs.

(Click the healthy/dirty license for the complete story.)

Dozens turn out for chance to scare children

"Funny how? Funny like a clown, I amuse you?"

A bunch of bozos auditioned Monday in NYC for the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey's Circus, all hoping for a coveted spot in the Ringling Bros. clown college.

Why, WHY isn't this a reality show? In general I loathe reality TV (except for, I admit, Idol -- mostly for awesome freaks like Normund Gentle), but I would without a doubt tune in to watch a bunch of clowns stab each other in the back on a weekly basis.

Who, I ask, wouldn't want to see Floppy Shoe Race Week? Or Biggest Red Nose Week? Or, especially, Cram into a Tiny Car Week? (Like musical chairs, any clown who doesn't fit gets cut.)

The title of my little show? Well, since "The Biggest Loser" and "Funny or Die" are already taken, I think I'd go with "He Who Laughs Last".

(Full Disclosure: I once performed as a juggler with a clown partner at a kid's party. But jugglers are cool.)

Read about the desperately funny tryouts here.

Tropical Blunder

Never, ever leave a piece of fruit to watch your expensive photographic equipment.

A camera crew learned that lesson the hard way on the mean streets of Malmö, Sweden when they entrusted Japanese popstar Hideki Kaji with their gear. They were in the middle of filming the waif-ish, pineapple clad singer for a music video, when they stepped away to photograph their children.

Kaji, known for such gems as "Twinkle Twinkle Pointless Darling", was quickly robbed by 3 men (or was it four?!) who got away with the cameras.

Appropriately, the men beat the pineapple to a pulp.

(Click the fruit for the whole nutty story.)

Update: Dammit, I just went and did the absolute stupidest thing I could have done. I watched a couple Hideki Kaji videos on YouTube...and I liked them. So now I feel bad about his little pineapple teeth getting kicked in. Dammit.

Red, White & Screwie

Rutgers University attempted a Guinness World Record a few days ago. A university setting a record? Awesome! It's got to involve beer and projectile vomiting, right? Nope. Then sex, surely? Longest daisy chain?! Guess again. That leave food, huh? Most buffalo wings consumed in an hour, without projectile vomiting? Not even close.

No, Rutgers University decided to get their geek on in the worst way. Eclipsing the last big nerd record -- highest Guitar Hero score -- and looking like a mass breakout from nearby Rahway State Prison, the school went with the squeaky clean "World's Biggest Gathering of Where's Waldos".

They easily beat the record, with over a thousand Waldos showing up. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a projectile vomiting record to attempt.

Time again for Garrito's Foto Friday

Today, boys and girls, we're taking a field trip to the Volunteer Park Conservatory in Seattle to witness a rare blossoming of the world's largest unbranched inflorescense flower. It's called the Corpse Flower (because it smells like a decomposing mammal), and it can grow to over 9 feet.

Its real name is Amorphophallus titanum, which translates to "giant misshapen penis". Can you say "giant misshapen penis", boys and girls?

Hands off, Maryann and Adrianne!

What was I saying? Oh yes, naturalist Sir David Attenborough changed the name of the plant to the boring Titan arum for his boring BBC show, The Private Lives of Plants. Why? Apparently he giggled every time he said "phallus".

Notice the vasectomy scar.

That didn't keep this woman from using protection.

Classic case of giant misshapen penis envy.

Photos ©2009 Garrito

Boy meets girl, girl bleeds boys

I never envisioned this as a movie review blog, but then I've never seen a motion picture quite like Let The Right One In, a Swedish vampire movie in a different vein. (OK, I'll try to refrain from more "sink your teeth into..." gimmes.)

I'm not going to give a full-on review here (check out my friend's take on the flick at I Love Splatter!), except to say it combines the classic elements of coming-of-age romance with coming-out-of-a-coffin ghoulishness. And like some truly great thrillers, it's what doesn't appear on screen that makes it special.

If you thought the scariest things coming out of Sweden were Ikea chair beds (Lycksele Lövås) and under-ripe lingonberries, get ready for a herring-raising experience. (Sorry.)

Two Fangs, way up!

Communism causes explosive diarrhea

Poor, poor Vladimir Lenin. It's not enough that Communism ultimately failed, but now a statue of him seems to be suffering from irritable bowel syndrome. Adding insult to injured rectum is that it happened in St. Petersburg, Russia, which used to be named after him (Leningrad).

I guess you could say he has a bad case of the trotsky's.

PS. Happy Birthday, Harmony! (Thanks for the tip, Samsmama)

Female outrage begins in 3, 2, 1...

Wow. Just wow. I came across this article in Japan Times titled, Women, Know Your Place.

The writer, Kris Kosaka (apparently female) basically believes professional women (at least Japanese) are "overqualified housewives".

Some money quotes:

"How much money thoughtlessly wasted through the years on cram schools and education, on overseas travel, violin lessons?"

"A new focus on marital arts should replace all other education for women in Japan, starting from mid-elementary level, lest girls become susceptible to the dangerous notion that they can someday have a life outside the home."

"I propose all Japanese women, at the age of 10, enter matrimonial arts academies. The curriculum will center on how to make life pleasant for men and children, and such courses as "Household Funds" or "How to Raise a Chauvinistic Male" will ensure society regains a clarity and unity of purpose so lacking in today's confused world. Seminars such as "How to Pour Beer into your Husband's Glass with Minimal Foam" or "Bathing Children While Maintaining a Pristine Bath" will ensure Japanese women learn the skills and develop the talents necessary for their existence."

Now, I'm no expert on Japanese society, but I'm curious how suggestions like these might fly in the U.S. Plus, I guess I'm a little disappointed the author doesn't at least recommend private geisha lessons.

I just realized: this kinda works as a companion piece to Cary's Neato Dating Tips Of The Day post on List of the Day.

Tail of terror

Last week, Shiny Object reader, Sally, introduced us to her relatives Hickory & Hazel Knutt. Innocent enough. But who knew it would foreshadow a real-life horror story in Northern Ireland, where the Nutt family home (aka The Nutt House) has been besieged by a seething swarm of scavenging squirrels?

Mrs. Oonagh Nutt says she's spent thousands of pounds trying to get rid of the bushy-tailed beasts: "I've had pest control round putting poison down in the roof space and travel routes through the house...We've had squirrel catchers, traps, lights, sonar. Everything but the kitchen sink." All to no avail.

If all else fails, Mrs. Nutt could try, oh I don't know...changing her name?!

It's Garrito's Foto Friday

Yes, it's another Friday. Which means I'm once again too tired or too lazy or a combination of the both, and I go through my 10,000 photos from the last six years looking for something that doesn't suck. Trust me, there's a LOT of suck in there.

I figure I showed off my one kitty, Java, two weeks ago, so now I've got to give equal time to her step-sister, Zoe, who just turned 12 on St. Paddy's Day. Zoe sneezes a lot, and usually when she's less than two feet from my face, and I mean big, meaty, snotty sneezes. It ain't pretty. But she is.

©2009 Garrito

Balls are shrinking!

LONDON (Reuters Life!) - The number of people in Britain with surnames like Cockshott, Balls, Death and Shufflebottom -- likely the source of schoolroom laughter -- has declined by up to 75 percent in the last century.

A study found the number of people with the name Cock shrank to 785 last year from 3,211 in 1881, those called Balls fell to 1,299 from 2,904 and the number of Deaths were reduced to 605 from 1,133.

People named Smellie decreased by 70 percent, Dafts by 51 percent, Gotobeds by 42 percent, Shufflebottoms by 40 percent, and Cockshotts by 34 percent, said Richard Webber, visiting professor of geography at King's College, London.

"If you find the (absolute) number goes down, it's either because they changed their names or they emigrated," Webber, author of the study, told Reuters on Wednesday.

He said that in many cases, people probably changed their surnames as they came to be regarded as in bad taste. "It's because the meaning of words can change. Take the name Daft -- that as a term for a stupid is a relatively recent innovation."

This reminds me of my days as a golf caddy. There was a member couple whose names, I swear, were Dick and Anita Kuntz. Here's proof.

Having a body part surname myself -- and not one of the more pleasant parts -- I can empathize with those who choose to change. Me, I've decided to stick it out. And no, that's not a hint.

Yo no heart Tijuana

So after learning that one of my few obviously insane dear readers hails from San Diego (where I spent a couple years before retreating back to the equally sunny NW), I was inspired to comb through some photos to find some So Cal shiny objects.

Turns out my search brought me just south of the border, to a little strip of hell on Earth known as Tijuana. ¡Aye, chi mama! If "Tijuana" translated to "Abandon hope all ye who enter here", I wouldn't be all that surprised. There is something seriously broken with that place. I know not to judge an entire country by one little cesspool, but that's the only part of Mexico I've been too. And trust me, it's a cesspool.

As far as I could tell, Tijuanans (?) seem to think all Americans want to buy three things: Day of the Dead trinkets, wrestling masks (think Nacho Libre), and Chicklets. Chicklets? WTF? Did someone tell them we ran out? And they paint their donkeys like fucking zebras because WHY? Do they think WE think the zebra is indigenous to Northwest Mexico?

I could go on, but for now I'd better just chillax share those photos:

It took all of 5 seconds to cross the border into Tijuana. Getting backing was another story. It took 2 hours. TWO HOURS! This shot was taken on a walkway over the line of cars waiting to get into the U.S. (We were laughing at the fools who were stupid enough to drive... until we reached the other side of the walkway and realized the line of people sans cars stretched half-a-goddamn-mile!) What struck me was the weird, random shit hawkers were trying to sell. Cheap, plastic flamenco guitars, I can almost understand, but huge urns?

In downtown Tijuana, you see a lot of Mariachi. The thing is, few of them are actually playing. Most are waiting for transportation to bring them, I imagine, to annoy the fuck out of people in San Diego's Old Town.

Dios mio.

Photos ©2009 Garrito