Excerpts from an ongoing email exchange between the deadly bored on film, TV, celebrity and beyond.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Elton John is no Mexican Rocket Scientist

To: Nick
From: Keith
Sent: 28 February 2006
SUBJECT: Jumping beans got shit on me


Just once in my life, I want to be described as a "self-taught Mexican rocket scientist".

Hands off, Bay. Just hands off. This one's just for Nicolas Cage. Or Cheech Marin in his big comeback role. Co-starring Don Johnson as his steadfast girlfriend and Mickey Rourke as the evil government scientist out to shut the whole programme down.

Cheech: Don, I just want to fly with the birds and the rockets, you know? Tethered to something, you know? Just like some sort of, I dunno, bird or something, tethered to something. You know?

Don: I know darling, I too want to see your tight ass lifting off from the landing pad, tethered tightly to a long firm pole.

Cheech: Don, you say the sexiest things. You wanna try my hot sauce? Only $4.99 a bottle? Hot stuff!

Rourke (peering through window, laughing evilly but unable to move any facial muscles due to extensive plastic surgery, before muttering): Yoo will be mine, Mexican Rocket Man! All mine. Mwehehehewemwhmnmmm.

Elton John would understand.


Mexican Rocket Scientist Keith


To: Keith
From: Nick
Sent: 28 February 2006
SUBJECT: Re: Jumping beans got shit on me

“From Buck Rogers to 007, the jetpack has fueled our greatest personal-technology fantasies. For Juan Lozano, it has inspired a lifelong obsession.” – this is a lie. The jet pack has not fueled any of my greatest personal technology fantasies. My greatest personal technology fantasy is the same now as it was in 1985: that's right, to join Anthony Michael Hall. and the even less famous one and to create Kelly Le Brock in my bedroom.

And then not have sex with her and wait for one of Robert Downey Jr's Cyndi Lauper looking cast-offs to demean herself by allowing me a somewhat chaste kiss.

When will popular science realise that the modern man does not want to travel in inner or outer space – whether he looks like Bob Hoskins or not. The man of today wants to come home, turn on his computer, hook a couple of jumper cables to it (I don't know how, I’m no Mexican rocket scientist), hook the cables to a Barbie Doll™ and then have a hot woman preach messages of self-worth at him. Or play with his ding-dong.

Popular Science needs to answer these burning questions:

1. Can you make a woman with a computer, jumper cables and a Barbie™ doll?
2. If you could clone anyone – anyone you wanted – would you really clone Ewan McGregor?
3. What is David Carradine?
4. If Sharon Stone shows her wrinkled old kebab in Basic Instinct 2, is there an earthquake in New York?
5. How screwed up is Jodie Foster?
6. How does Mickey Rourke's facial hair get through the plastic coating? Or is he the first man to shave internally?
7. Why doesn't Gary Busey take my calls anymore?
8. What kind of career begins by winning an Oscar with your best mate and ends with a Lynx commercial?
9. Why isn't anyone making John Hughes films anymore? Could it be because John Hughes never existed – he was in fact a genre. Come on, where are the John Hughes films?

Answer me these, Keith and I shall perform any wish you see fit.


Robot Barbie™ Maker Wannabe Nick


Blogger City Hippy said...

No but he smokes a mean chimichanga

3/01/2006 07:21:00 am


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