#blarted for nothing
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Want everyone to know that i spent all year only listening to Til Death Do Us Blart, a podcast in which 5 grown men review Paul Blart Mall Cop 2, in the hopes that it would provide me with the funniest spotify wrapped ever and it did NOT work
#blarted for nothing#til death do us blart#death blart#mcelroys#mbmbam#spotify wrapped#spotify wrapped 2022
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That one meme goin around.
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In honor of american thanksgiving approaching, I've been reviewing the Paul Blart lore and extended universe. This has led me to the realization that there is no Paul Blart board game. I seek to change this. I'll now be posting occasional updates about the state of this game. so far I'm making two versions, one to be played collaboratively as the art thieves in pb2, and one to be played by only 2 people, one taking on the role of the shadow man, and one to be Blart himself.
If you or anyone you know would be interested in helping me playtest this, please reach out, I'll need playtesters and my friends are sick of me talking about Paul Blart nonstop for the last 2 weeks.
once I finish my initial draft I'm going to put together an online version that could be played online through like gameStructor or something.
#Paul Blart#Till Death do us Blart#mcelroys#board game design#kevin james#i have thought about nothing except the shadow man and that one scene with the bird for the last 14 days
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A story in three acts
#use tone indicators for the love of god#you never know which autistic family member is gonna assume you're seriously considering paul blart cosplay as a genuine Halloween costume#learn from my mistakes#please#don't let this be for nothing#i am deceased#also yes im hot and still have hp bedding from my teen years but thats not the point#the point is i am a fool in a mild crisis and require this to read as comedy
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oh btw one of my favorite things to do when im having writer's block is to uh. get inspiration by. trying to translate something really stupid into poetry or prose. personally i like to see if i can 1. make funny jokes to myself, 2. keep the purple prose to a minimum, and 3. not make it obvious what i'm writing about. but like, these are my rules. you don't need em. the whole point is to relax.
one of the poems i wrote about my pokemon game got published. so did a piece about thanatos & zag from hades. i was recently able to start writing again bc i watched paul blart mall cop 2 and wrote a scene about a shadow man playing piano whilist paul gets his ass kicked in by a bird. i've written about how i used to be able to eat cheese. about how i burned my popcorn. whatever.
but - this is key - set a timer. do not write more than 5-10 minutes. i say this so so lovingly: you are not trying to start another fanfiction. you're not trying to write another book. you gotta stop thinking of your words as only being important if they necessitate longevity. sure, it might be a book later. but the point of this exercise is to have fun, not to get more stressed out bc everything u write "doesn't end". don't fuckin end it. clean it up if u love it. otherwise. like. keep writing about different dumb shit. it's literally so much more fun than forcing yourself to constantly write about stuff that "matters". nothing does, so like. everything does, kids.
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thanksgiving you are Nothing. its paul blart day in this house
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We have a houseboat in tboy cove rn and have had property for like several weeks now but before we had like a house in second life we would just have to sneak into various my little pony sim houses that were left unlocked if we wanted to watch a movie and it was always such a dangerous game because this isn’t allowed and people on second life hate squatters but I swear nothing is funnier than walking into some bronie’s house and then turning on Paul Blart Mall Cop 2
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thanksgiving is a holiday about paul blart and cock socks and nothing else
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once upon a time we were pauling in love but now we're only malling apart. nothing we can do total eclipse of the blart
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I always liked the idea that Dom stopped being a dick to Sam after the genderswap arc, thinking that Sam was just another hurting trans kid. It's one of the only scenarios I think Samrao *could* work out.
little drabble below the cut feat. Dom's abuse, Invader, and trans solidarity.
The smell of cheese permeates the house. Dom's dad wears it like perfume. His old man is crunching doritos between his teeth, and in the back of his mind, Dom wonders how he ever found someone to make love to when his beard looks more yellow than black from cheddar. That doesn't matter, though, because at the front of his mind is getting to Invader's.
Prying open his window's latch, Dom slips into the cold night. Moonlight sets him ablaze with silver as he drops onto wet grass. Dom jumps to his feet and starts running, even though he oughta be taking it easy after a good ten hours in his binder.
Streetlights hum with static. He'd spent a day dealing with Samantha's bullshit, and then his dad's, and Dom wants nothing more than to collapse in bed. The only thing worse than further ruining his sleep schedule was the smell of doritos, though, so he hauls himself to his feet. His dad is a prick. Completely unable to separate work from home life. Nonetheless, he would rather hear about his father's work problems, because otherwise his problems were with Dom, and that train of thought had left him mottled black-and-blue under his collar.
His heart thuds in his throat. As Dom increasingly becomes known, he's got more eyes on him, and his father knew that too. The man pulled back. Dom's subconscious thanks him sweetly, praising his father for not beating the shit out of him, and Dom's self-hatred grows a little thicker. Invader says he's always had a heart, even for those who really don't deserve it.
Dom rounds the corner and comes across a large house. Warmth pools in the doorway, a stark contrast to the biting, icy night, and the big body of Blart staring at him from the window isn't enough to dissuade Dom. Invader loiters in the doorway. She smiles as he hurries up the steps, panting, and pats him on the back with her equally big hand. Dom yearns for her genetics. He wheezes out a greeting in reply. Invader might have gone too hard and too fast for Samantha's heart, but even then Dom still thinks she was crazy to turn down Invader. She is really hot. So is the house. It beckons him, and Dom happily enters.
"What's the deal?" Invader asks. She guides him to the kitchen counter and sits him down in a chair. His back hits ribbed wood. "You sounded distressed."
"I think I'm T-for-T," Dom replies glumly, and Invader huffs out a laugh.
"Me too, bitch."
"Samantha is a fucking ass," he carries on, "But there's something about her in a dress. And Grian got real pretty too as soon as I saw his binder. Shit, Invader, what the fuck."
She waves her hand. "We feel safe with eachother. We don't get that feeling a lot. It's nice. What's the problem?"
"It's fucking Sam!" Dom retorts, sounding strangled.
"It's fucking Sam," she agrees. "Welcome to the club."
#yandere high school#yhs#samgladiator#yhs dom#Yhs domrao#Domrao#yhs invader#Invader blart#Yhs sam#trans dom#Trans domrao#trans invader#transhet grins#grian mention#Tauritos' tag
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Mostly ambivalent to the McElroys but I gotta hand it to them that deciding they were going to watch Paul Blart Mall Cop 2 every year forever. and forcing themselves to put out a full hour podcast episode about it every time. And sticking to that stupid fucking idea for over 8 years. That’s just a great bit. None of the episodes are even funny like they have nothing to talk about but the fact they’re still doing it is hilarious
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“Each day in Jocktober, which takes place in October, Opie & Anthony producer Sam Roberts picks a different radio show from around the country and then the show spends an hour diagnosing exactly what makes that oh-so-zany “morning zoo”-style show so shitty. Jocktober is like if Warner Herzog or the Coen Brothers spent a month each year just attacking movies like Paul Blart and Mortdecai – but also explaining the conventions of why they are so bad. Wouldn’t that make the film industry better? Wouldn’t it at least be entertaining? At least one of those things, yes.
Exaggerating the characteristics of drive-time radio, interrogating the conventions of the radio industry, is a way to ask: Why do people act this way? If this sounds familiar to improv people, it should: the goals are exactly the same, they just go about it in different ways. The work of improv is to excavate some truth of a situation and then heighten it to show why it’s funny, like some kind of fiendish archeological dig. Opie and Anthony, on the other hand, prefer to throw the entire situation into a giant rock tumbler to shake the dirt off of it and leave the fossils of truth at the end. Sure, some delicate things might get broken, but if they were that delicate, then how valuable were they in the first place?
The public at large pigeonholes Opie & Anthony as those terrible zany “morning zoo”-style DJs. But there’s a difference. Gregg “Opie” Hughes gives a shit when it’s done badly. Around the tenth day of every Jocktober, Opie and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the crew, kind of reach a point where it’s not longer even fun to mock these shows. Like Radiohead turning its back on Creep, it hurts them too much. Radio hosts, by and large, the targets of Jocktober, do nothing but play Creep. (…)
Prepburger and other services like it license content, like The Fugitive and War of the Roses, and the other, smaller, refillable formats that allow shows to comment on topical events, to any radio show who can pay. That’s why every morning show in every market is indistinguishable white noise. They’re literally saying the exact same thing. It’s like that part of Going Clear that talks about L. Ron Hubbard as a sci-fi writer where he’s like “never write any character who has not appeared in that magazine before. Realism or originality is the enemy,” or something like that, I wasn’t listening that hard.
One element that continues to be at the heart of a lot of programming philosophies is localness. With the advent of huge national radio shows like Howard Stern and Opie and Anthony, smaller market shows were forced to use what they had to stay relevant. They literally did stuff like hang up signs in studios that reminded jocks to “Stay Local” and talk about the stuff in the town, or inject specifics about the nearby highway, or talk about local news stories. Which is fine, but can come at the cost of prioritizing actually stimulating conversation. Focusing on trying to work the name of the local mall into your story is completely missing the point that people don’t give a shit what specific you use, the important thing is you’re talking about things that are honest and immediate and you’re good at talking.
(…)
Nothing encapsulates what Jocktober is about better than the name itself. “Jocktober” refers to the seemingly universal cliché where every radio show calls the month of October “Rocktober” and makes all these loud promos about it and hypes it up and makes this huge deal about how they play [radio station bro voice – you know the one] the most rock out of any station and October is going to rock so hard. But then they just PLAY EXACTLY THE SAME FUCKING SONGS THEY NORMALLY DO. The sound and fury, etc. To quote Anthony Cumia circa 2009: “There’s all this energy… but it’s all wasted energy. It’s like sitting in your driveway in neutral and just gassing it.”
(…)
Not to put too fine a point on it, but the first ever Jocktober episode was actually and explicitly inspired by a jock on some other show chastising O&A for, “not [having] anything to talk about, so they just talk about their real lives.”
And so, like NutraSweet, Jocktober was invented by accident. Even die-hard Pests might forget that when The Show went after 97.1 ZHT’s Morning Zoo on October 1, 2008, it was based on bad intelligence from a listener, that Frankie and Danger Boy were “talking shit” about the show.
The damage was done. Opie & Anthony had “napalmed the wrong village” as Anthony replacement Jim Norton put it.
But in the process, they realized that there were a lot of little villages out there that deserved napalming. Enough, in fact, to sustain the heady fall tradition of Jocktober for the next six or seven years… depending on how you count.
Anthony and Jim Norton supplied the bulk of the comedic voice, historically, and Opie was the point guard who kept things on track, but Jocktober really gave Opie’s voice a time to shine. He’s a student of radio and prides himself on knowing its history and the theory behind why it works, so he particularly hates seeing it done badly. And he’s usually thought of as almost the heart of the show, where Anthony or Jim make the really dirty, cutting jokes about child molesting or how fat/skinny/old/young/famous/washed up/etc. someone is. But there are moments every once in a while where Opie is suddenly just enormously cruel and you realize… this show has no heart. When the moral compass of the show blows up, Jocktober is like a some kind of Bermuda Triangle nightmare.
(…)
The early years of Jocktober, starting in 2008, was a very particular era for shock jocks. Satellite radio allowed them to be out from under the thumb of the FCC, but it was still before the Internet progressed to the point where personalities are really accountable for what they say. All these shows were just lost to the ether, but now everyone knows that everything’s permanent and the internet is forever. For that reason, I’d argue that there’s two distinct periods of Jocktober: 2008-2011 and 2011-present.
It was during the first period, 2008-2011, when they really learned how to effectively use social media as a tool for mischief. In the Jocktober of 2008, there were some mentions of sending “pictures of roosters” to email addresses and administrators of the official sites of different stations, as well as the long-standing tradition of listeners bombarding any station mentioned on-air with horrific phone calls.
But soon enough, Opie and Anthony walking into the studio was basically like the pilots in Pacific Rim climbing into those huge robots. They could get on mic and command their huge social media following to destroy whatever target they pleased. So each day in Jocktober would go like this: they’d announce the name of that day’s show, and then the clock started until “phase 1 is complete,” which means the show was forced to disable posts on their Facebook wall. Then began phase two, where listeners would leave the most vile, disgusting jokes and pictures on the comments of the Facebook wall. That went on until Phase 2 was complete—as in, the entire Facebook page had to be deleted.
This seems like it took place back in some era when cyberbullying was a more innocent thing. Maybe “innocent” is the wrong word for spamming a Facebook page with hundreds of pictures of a man eating shit or a terrifying bus accident, but there was certainly a time when you could say “hey, just unplug the computer if it’s too much!!” and really believe it. But as we entered the more recent era, though, social media began to fragment even more and bleed into people’s “real” lives, until finally, coincidentally very near Jocktober 2014, the whole GamerGate thing happened and everyone kind of realized, hey, maybe even radio station cyberbullying isn’t just good clean fun.
(…)
On the last day of Jocktober, Opie & Anthony turned the focus on themselves, because after all, they’d be just as hacky as Terry Clifford if they didn’t call out their own shortcomings. This usually consisted of listening to some old shows from their Boston days or early in New York and pointing out flaws. Personally, I have to say that one definite flaw in the Opie & Anthony Show was that one of them liked to go on racist tirades that ended up on the front page of the newspapers.
But this isn’t about Anthony, it’s about Jocktober. And if you’re saying that he shouldn’t be on the radio anymore, then here is some good news for you: he’s not. Jocktober remains a fascinating cultural artifact. I was listening to one of these shows with a friend once and her reaction was, “How can you listen to these? It’s… so funny.” I think she meant just how decadent the kind of humor is in O&A in general, and then Jocktober in particular. They’re responding to this shitty, watered down entertainment, so they purposely make their show the most sugary, rich product possible. It was like they were getting mad that someone’s Kool-Aid is weak and doesn’t have enough sugar, so you dump 10x too much sugar in it. Jocktober was the most high-proof, premium-grade version of O&A’s cartoon-cruel comedic voice possible. (…)
Shortly after Anthony got fired in July of 2014, comedian and frequent guest Joe DeRosa compared the freedom of speech to the right to eat as much candy as you wanted. Sure, the thinking goes, knock yourself out, but if you eat too much, eventually you’re going to get sick. Looking through this lens, SiriusXM’s decision to fire Anthony was like Bloomberg’s decision to ban large sodas. Sure, you can drink this sweet, decadent soda, but it’s in the interest of everyone concerned that you don’t literally drink all of it.
Probably good thinking. But if you are so inclined, every episode of Jocktober is right here.”
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of course i think fics should always be adequately tagged and that’s very important for everyone’s safety and happiness but unfortunately running across undertagged fics is extremely funny to me personally sometimes. like there are simply no words in the english language to describe the feeling of a fic description telling you this is going to be about like the dudes from whatever show kissing and confessing their feelings and then you open it and find that it is about that but, in addition, it’s also like a genderbent omegaverse paul blart: mall cop au or something. truly indescribable. in that moment i understand what it was to be some hapless trojan bastard bringing this big ass wooden horse into the city and thinking surely nothing could go wrong here
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Megara as Paul Blart for SnaggleLePuss
So...as a viewer in my twitch stream you can earn channel points. Snaggle used his channel points to redeem a sketch request, and this is what he requested. I HAVE NOTHING FURTHER TO SAY. (except I’m glad the best kind of people are coming by my stream rofl)
Anyway! If you want your own colored sketch, stop by stream! Or sign up on patreon for a discounted commission.
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