I Finally Outran The Handicapped Cop In The Nitro-Boosted Wheelchair With The Flashing Blue Lights,

Last edition’s quote was:

1: “Do you know who I am?”
2: [nods]
1: “Have you got any idea how many anonymous henchmen I’ve killed over the years?”
2: [shrugs]
1: “Look at you, you don’t even have a name tag. You don’t have a chance. Why don’t you just fall down?”
2: [falls down]

The correct answer is Austin Powers: Goldmember, featuring that oh-so-plucky troupe of Canadians Mike Meyers, Michael Meyers, M. Meyers, and Mike M. The first American feature film to express Canada’s distaste for the crunchy texture of Dutch people, Goldmember sits proudly at the bottom of the Austin Powers franchise. (Not because it’s the worst, but just because it’s lazy & doesn’t like being on top.) In spite of starring a highly comical Michael Caine as Austin’s estranged espionaged efather, this film will not be remembered for its multi-cultural flavor. It included Canadians, Americans, Dutch, Brits, and Oompa Loompas, but will not stand out as a United Nations comedy… no, it will stand out for poop jokes, “member” jokes, and for displaying a previously hidden Dutch penchant for eating dead skin. Ahem. I hate the Academy Awards.

Last edition’s winner was Todd “Mama” Jones. You may remember Mama from his last trip to the kitchen, before which he asked ‘Anybody want anything?’, to which we all responded with a polite ‘No thanks’, which thinly veiled our annoyance at being asked. Like we need someone to rob us of yet another reason to get up from the desk and stretch out the old walkin’ sticks. Before we get too annoyed, though, one thing that we should all understand about Mama: he acts simply out of love. He is not trying to give us an eating disorder (though Conkel seems to be dropping pounds like Latifah on Jenny Craig), nor is he secretly pining to feel wanted, useful, productive in this world of Aspergers-stricken analysts. No, he is simply in love with the idea that maybe, someday, with just the right mix of rainbows and grenadine, someone will want something from the damn kitchen. His prize is one dollop of rainbow; he’s on his own for the grenadine. I’m not made of money. (I’m made of rainbows.)

While not winning second place for a factually correct guess, Jane “Specs” Wong wins an Honorable Mention for being the next person to actually venture a guess that came remotely close to being correct. You’ve seen Jane roaming the halls wearing incredibly fashionable yet understated spectacles; she’s often smiling and, though she’s a tough Brand Finance analyst, she’s rarely stressed. This makes me think those spectacles are somehow enchanted. In fact, rumor has it that Jane’s nearly-rimless-but-too-cool-to-be-totally-rimless power-peepers are capable of delivering tiny doses of lithium into the back of Jane’s earlobes. Hence the smiling, non-stressed out demeanor that is entirely out of place for anyone in Corporate Finance. When asked where she obtained such an amazingly powerful pair of “prosthetics for the eyes”, she simply drooled into a little puddle on the carpet. Well played, Specs. Well played. Her prize is a little Dixie cup to catch her drool & keep it from gumming up the works of her keyboard (which she informed me is her trusty steed, and has named it Green Trident, which also happens to be her favorite gum).

This issue of MQotW is brought to you by the proud people at Northwest Airlines. “We serve granola on every flight. Buy your over-priced, fuel-burning, beer-fart-soaked seat today!” This just in: Delta Airlines has purchased Northwest Airlines. So, I guess…

This issue of MQotW is brought to you by the proud people at Delta Airlines. “We be flyin’ all over this &!*%$. No granola.”

Be the first to guess the title of the movie from whence the below quote was taken, and you will receive a grand fake prize from yours truly. If your correct response is received second, you will receive no prize whatsoever, but will be mocked for your inferior movie knowledge and/or less-than-catlike reflexes.

Please note: The point of MQotW is to acknowledge those with a completely useless mental database of movie knowledge, NOT to reward you for book marking IMDB.com or some other movie site & being able to type quickly; therefore, if you are found guilty of such high treason, you will be summarily dismissed from the distribution list. And I will flame you on MySpace. Research at your own risk.

Because this contest has some timing aspects to it, and to be fair to all my homies, I will distribute the MQotW at noon every Tuesday. Unless I’m busy.

Without further ado, I give you this edition’s…

Movie Quote of the Week

1: He walked into our kitchen and was eating out of our refrigerator. I thought we was gonna eat me but he ate our daughter’s corsage and then ate our goldfish!
2: And where is he now, Mr. Henderson?
1: In the bathroom.
2: Oh, of course, how stupid of me.

If I Listened Long Enough To You I’d Find A Way To Believe That It’s All True,

Last edition’s quote was: “How do you like that? The guy gets laid more times dead than I do alive.”

The correct answer is Weekend at Bernie’s. Starred Terri Kiser, Jonathan Silverman (who’s less entertaining than his hot sister Sarah), and Andrew McCarthy. It also starred the idea that Staten Islanders are too stupid to recognize when their dead neighbor has been tied to & escorted around town by two New York hooligans, who are pretending he’s still alive so that they can prevent their own death. My personal belief is that this idea is WAY funnier than any of the actual actors, and it should be remade over & over.

Last edition’s winner, from the sunny city of Venice Beach, is none other than Stephanie “I’m Dating A Guy With The Same First Name As My Brother And It’s NOT Unsettling For Anyone In The Family” Hansen, who is dating a guy who also happens to be named Brian, who also happens to be from Pennsylvania, and who ALSO happens to have a sister named Stephanie, and who ALSO is a super-nice, clean-cut guy with a good head on his shoulders & aspirations to be an actor of some repute. Not ill repute. Healthy, desirable repute. (He also happens to like it when people correctly use the noun “repute.”) Aside from her eerie-but-eerie-without-being-unsettling-because-we’re-all-too-afraid-to-be-unsettled-by-it taste in gentleman suitors, Stephanie has many characteristics that make her one of the most unique denizens of the City of Angels. See, she grew up in a small town in rural Pennsylvania, then went to college in Boston, and moved to L.A. without the slightest hope of becoming an entertainer. Also, she is not a trust-fund baby, has only all-natural facial structure, has never even been on a surf board, and only has a passing fancy for gay men who hide their homosexuality behind a thinly-veiled drug habit/Woody Allen obsession. ‘Why would one move to L.A. without being any of those things, and without wanting to be at least marginally involved in ‘the business’?’ Good question, Reader, but please refrain to using the phrase ‘the business’, as it has several connotations of ill repute (!), as in “I just gave that toilet ‘the business'”, or “The kid has ‘the business’ in his diaper,” or “My wife refuses to give me ‘the business’ during American Idol” (note that the first two connotations are poo-related, and the third one is NOT). Sadly, I cannot answer your question, Reader. Nor can she. Neither of us can even BUY a clue as to why she would CHOOSE, without ANY of the usual reasons, to move to one of the dirtiest, smoggiest, smelliest, fakest, shallowest, greediest, most dangerous, traffic-jammed metropolises in the entire country. I stand before you, Readers, stumped, baffled & bemused. I cannot conceive of any reason that she chose to live there. Although I hear the burritos are pretty good. So her prize this week: a feasible, believable answer to that question that she can finally employ, instead of sputtering something about beaches & umbrella drinks: “Because the burritos are good, and I love me some burritos.” (This is not even remotely true.)

Last edition’s runner-up, a dear friend from my days at Penn State, Seth “Ballroom Blitz” Rohrbach, is known for his flagrant flamenco, his ravishing rumba, and the always lascivious La Bamba. We met in a class on Alliterative Dance, which he passed with flying colors, and I failed – while my command of the alliterative dance names is strong, his mightily milky Milkshake and his laughable Lawn Mower outshined everyone else in the class and totally screwed up the curve, leaving me to simply write about the experience (and hope that people know what alliteration means). Blitz, as he’s known to his fancy friends, is currently attempting to publish a flip-book of his dances. This is particularly curious, because no one has ever successfully captured the magical merengue or the sexual Samba on the small comic-strip-sized pages of a flip-book. Flipped too fast, and the dancers appear to simply be flying around a room from one scene to the next, like poltergeists with no sense of rhythm or aesthetics. Flipped too slow, and all of a sudden it stops looking like a dance and more like an instruction manual for saving scantily-clad girls from large dance-floor-type crowds whilst also wearing a tuxedo with the chest torn out of it (Blitz’ signature costume). While MQotW certainly wishes Blitz the best of luck in this imminently ill-fated illustrative impulse, his prize is nothing notable at all: an alliterative assortment, including but not limited to a sack of seashells secured from Sally who sells seashells down by the seashore, a peck of pickled peppers picked by Peter Piper, and a windfall of wood chucked by a woodchuck who would not, could not, chuck wood without knowing how much wood a woodchuck could chuck. (Alliteration, audience!)

Be the first to guess the title of the movie from whence the below quote was taken, and you will receive a grand fake prize from yours truly. If your correct response is received second, you will receive no prize whatsoever, but will be mocked for your inferior movie knowledge and/or less-than-catlike reflexes.

Please note: The point of MQotW is to acknowledge those with a completely useless mental database of movie knowledge, NOT to reward you for book marking IMDB.com or some other movie site & being able to type quickly; therefore, if you are found guilty of such high treason, you will be summarily dismissed from the distribution list. And I will flame you on MySpace. Research at your own risk.

Because this contest has some timing aspects to it, and to be fair to all my homies, I will distribute the MQotW at noon every Tuesday. Unless I’m busy.

Without further ado, I give you this edition’s…

Movie Quote of the Week:

“(raised voice) Jason, how many times have I told you to pick that damn thing up? (lowers voice sheepishly) A lot, I think. (lowers further) Probably several, maybe.”

Good Luck!

The Super Bowl Is An Excuse To Eat Like Roseanne Did Before She Got Religion,

Brian “I Wish Roseanne Hadn’t Found Religion” Hansen
Master Quotidian
MQotW Creator In The Non-Religious Sense Of The Word
“Stop Using Capital Letters In Your Signature. Makes It Religious. It’s Pretentious. So Is The Word Pretentious. Especially In Capitals.”