The Greatest Blog In the World

Monday, May 31, 2004


Friday, May 28, 2004

Happy Blog Birthday To Me!

As Far As I can tell, today is the two-year birthday of this blog. Yay Bunsen! I've proved my ability to have too much time on my hands for a laughably sustained period of time!

I know I promised the results of the "What Bunsen Means To Me" contest today, but because I am already drunk on Memorial Day absinthe, I will announce the winner on Monday or Tuesday. If you're not drunk yet, I highly recommend it. It makes a considerable amount of life's pain ebb away, only to return much more forcefully early in the evening. Luckily, more drinking makes that pain melt away. As long as you keep drinking, the pain can never catch you!

Have a weekend!

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

How You Might Explain The Olsen Twins To A Martian

OK, There Are these two girls. And they're twins, and they look identical, but I think I once heard that technically they're not identical. Who understands how twins work, you know what I'm saying? When they were babies, they were on a sitcom called Full House, which starred Bob Saget and John Stamos. But they were playing one baby, not two, because of child labor laws. Oh, what's a sitcom? It's short for situation comedy, and they're broadcast on this thing called television that brings entertainment into our homes here on Earth. Well, what's supposed to pass for entertainment, am I right? (Sigh.) You see, most television shows, sitcoms in particular, aren't very entertaining. I'd tell you about Friends, but you'd blow one of you heads off with the crazy raygun of yours by the time I got to the part about how they supposedly afforded this huge apartment with their shitty jobs.

So anyway, when Full House ended, these girls were fairly famous for both portraying this one child on the show. What's a girl? Oh come on, now you're just fucking with me, Glort. Fine. Humans are divided into two sexes, differentiated by genitalia that serves specific functions in the reproductive process. Girls are the developmental stage of women, which are the childbearing sex. Good enough? It's more complicated than that, but you get the idea. Imagine how hard your life would be if every time you wanted to have an orgasm you had to negotiate with another partner instead of just sticking that giant penis thing on your hand into that vagina-looking part on your head. Oh, maybe you do understand my sex life after all.

ANYWAY, the Olsens started making these home videos that for reasons I don't quite understand, every girl between the ages of 5 and 12 had to own. And the sales of these videos made them extremely rich. Jump ahead a few years, and now the twins are teenagers, which is the stage where they finish developing into adulthood. We have all sorts of laws that punish adults for having sexual contact with people that are not yet adults, but this hasn't stopped people from putting up various timers and clocks on the Internet that measure precisely when the Olsen Twins get old enough to have sexual contact with an adult without that adult going to jail. You see, twins are in a condition of scarcity on this planet, which makes them more valuable, especially sexually, because people think that if they had sex with one of them they'd get to have sex with both of them, even though that would be tantamount to incest, which is a cultural taboo. People find all of this fairly hott.

Whew. On the eve of their reaching the age of consent, the twins just released a movie (don't even fucking ask, Glort, I'm not explaining movies to you) which was a critical and commercial failure. It was their attempt at breaking out of the perceived ghetto of their home video empire. And now everyone is reveling in their failure, especially the legion of adult males with various countdown apparatuses, because Americans, as a culture, enjoy the failures of those who are more financially secure and of those deemed too good to be possessed sexually by them. Does that make sense?

Now the twins look like they're becoming a little kooky, supposedly out partying all the time and not ingesting enough sustenance to make them look healthy, i.e., suitable to be engaged sexually when they reach the age of consent next month. So people are mocking that, too.

No, Glort, I wouldn't "bang them." Where did you learn that? Have you not listened to a word I've said? And I'd appreciate it if you waited until I left before you started putting the penis part on your hand into the vagina part on your head while you look at that picture of the twins on the cover of People. My God, man, are there no finishing schools on the Red Planet?

We're through here. Good luck figuring out the Hilton sisters on your own, barbarian.

[Don't forget to enter the Great Bunsen Second Anniversary Contest before it's too late!]

Thursday, May 20, 2004

The Great Bunsen Second Anniversary Contest

On May 28th, the Greatest Blog in the World will turn two years old. This, of course, is an eternity in Internet time. To celebrate this incredible milestone of longevity, abject boredom, and nearly-unparalleled onanism, Bunsen [dot] TV is running an essay contest for its fifteen remaining readers.

And the subject, naturally, is Bunsen. It's always been about me, and it's going to continue to be about me. Otherwise I never would have quit my job at Teen People inspecting photos to make sure there were no inappropriate nipple slips, even though I was making a fair black-market income on Olsen Twin and Hilary Duff shots. Girls, buy some bras!

Here's the contest:

Please, in your own words, describe "What Bunsen Means To Me" in 100 words or less. Anything goes. Email your entry to with the subject line "What Bunsen Means To Me." I prefer that entries are in English, since web translation tools are still crude and not likely to adequately translate your mother tongue's more colorful idioms.

The deadline for entires is 5 PM Pacific Time on May 27th. On May 28th I will print the best of the entries (and probably all of them, since I expect some doozies) and announce the winner. This is a contest.

Oh yes, there is a prize for the best essay. Which, tantalizingly, I will not reveal until it's awarded. If there is postage involved, I will pay it. If there is bail involved, I will post it.

Let's see what you've got. I can take it.

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Total Fucking Victory: The Debate Assistance Edition

Maybe It's Just me, but does it seem like this John Kerry guy is getting a free ride from the American public? Granted, he hasn't started any disastrous wars on shaky, anecdotal grounds, handed out sweetheart contracts to his buddies' corporations, or tried to rape the environment like it was a hog-tied peasant stuck in the middle of a Viking raid. But he hasn't exactly had the opportunity, now has he?

Well, Kerry's free ride ends right here. I'm going to lend our President a hand. He's not exactly known for thinking on his feet, especially in front of television cameras or with people seated facing him. So I offer this list of rejoinders for the President's personal use in an eventual debate, should election regulations eventually back him into one.

For questions on military service:
"Why the long face, Senator? Maybe because you killed all of those Vietnamese people in the service of your country? You see, my opponent has kind of a long face, and maybe he's sad he wasn't good enough for the National Guard, where we only shot Mexicans, not Vietnamese."

For suggestions that Bush is not the most eloquent possible candidate:
"Now, I'm a simple man, a man's man. I don't have a lot of fancy words, like my boarding school colleague over there. But I have one: skullfuck. And come November, I'm gonna skullfuck that there Senator until his wig goes red."

For questions on the environment:
"Sure, if it were up to Senator Kerry, we'd have lots of trees, and clean rivers, and tracts of land in Alaska just sittin' there and going to waste. And you know what we wouldn't have? Paper, and hydroelectric power, and those tasty steaks that they make out of those little Eskimo kids. That's not an America I want to live in."

For questions on the economy, while simultaneously trying to court the college vote and the women's vote:
"Tax and spend, tax and spend. That's all Democrats like the Senator here ever want to do. You know what I want to do? Cut taxes and party, maybe take in a baseball game. And maybe eat some pussy."

For questions about Iraq:
"Well, that's a tough one. As many of you suspected, Dick Cheney has been making many of the decisions for this administration. And he royally fucked up the Iraq thing. So as a show of good faith to the American people, I'm kicking him off the ticket. Sorry, Dick, but it's all your fault. And I'm announcing Mel Gibson--who's a good Christian man, just look at his great Jesus movie--as my new running mate. Where's the star power on your ticket, John? You about ready for that skullfucking?"

You can thank me on that first Wednesday in November, Two Term George.

Monday, May 17, 2004

Back In Action Dept.

From The Associated Press:
The nation's top adult movie maker has resumed production nearly a month after five performers were infected with HIV (news - web sites), shutting down much of the multibillion-dollar porn industry. Vivid Entertainment Group started filming again Saturday, said the company's production manager.



Vivid Entertainment Group, the top purveyor of quality adult entertainment in America today, returns to hott action. While others in the industry may be "playing it safe" and staying on the sidelines in the wake of the recent HIV scare, Vivid is charging back into the game. Would the company that brought you Gonzo Triple Penetration Bareback Cowgirl Backdoor IV Addict Whores play it safe? Of course not.

We understand that there are legitimate safety concerns in this new climate where the spectre of HIV infection hangs over everyone in the industry. But we would never put the talent that has on three separate occasions set the gang-bang record with 674 confirmed penetrations in just under two hours (with better than a third of civilian participants submitting clean tests) at risk. Their jobs are incredibly important to fans of adult home entertainment everywhere, but their lives somewhat more so. We are confident that the danger has passed, and that the horrors of HIV have been eradicated for good. Still, because we are conscientious, our talent has the choice of requesting condoms on all of our shoots, or the option to keep it real and raw in the manner that has made Vivid the juggernaut of the adult sensuality industry.

We thank you for not jerking off during this difficult time and know it could not have been easy. But it is now time to let it fly to upscale Vivid product like the upcoming, safety conscious Devin Summers Presents Pooper-Licking Hemophiliac Ass Pounders 15.



Thursday, May 13, 2004

The Classified Abu Ghraib Prisoner Photo Poses Memo

People Send Me the strangest things. Just a few minutes ago, this item from someone at a "dot gov" address landed in my inbox.




List of Humiliating Poses For Iraqi POW Detainees

1. Pillowcase/Shawl "Batman," preferably standing on a box, preferably pantomining crucifixion.

2. Naked prisoner pyramid formation (various) with approving, "thumbs-up" gesture (various).

3. Female Enlisted pointing to exposed prisoner genitalia. "Thumbs-up" gesture preferred.

4. Naked "Superman," with prayer rug as cape, preferably prostrate on box to simulate flight.

5. Once Classified construction of Abu Ghraib Dentention Facility giant chessboard is completed, naked prisoners should be posed as if playing game of chess. Lighter-skinned detainees versus darker-skinned preferred.

6. Naked prisoner "Duck, Duck, Goose" formation, with Male Enlisted as the "Ducker." "Thumbs-up" gesture not necessary, but ME should appear to be tapping prisoners on the head, as if he doesn't know which one to "Goose."



Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Frasier: The Final Scene

I Apologize For the delay between posts. But you see, I've been incredibly busy beta-testing the new Blogger's upcoming "Fellate This Blogger!" feature, and let me just tell you, Google is doing incredible things with technology these days.

Today, I continue my "Final Scene" series with a preview of tomorrow night's Frasier ending.

Frasier sits on the couch, reading the newspaper. DAPHNE enters, carrying a tray with two tea cups and a teapot.

Dr. Crane, would you like some tea?

Why, that would be just lovely, wouldn't it?

Then you can get some yourself, you pompous gasbag!

Daphne throws hot tea in Frasier's face. He screams in agony.

You Limey cunt!

That'll be the last time you talk down to me, Doctor.

NILES enters from the front door and sees the commotion.

Oh my, what's going on here?

That bitch wife of yours just threw hot tea in my face!

Daphne is this true?

Are we married? I haven't watched this show in six years.

Frasier cleans off his face with a throw pillow.

Good point. Are you married?

Hmmm. That's an interesting question. I thought for sure the writers would have outed me by now, but I seem to recall a hideously implausible romance storyline between Daphne and me.

Maybe your father knows.

Dad? He's got to be about 100 by now. He must have died in the seventh season.

Fascinating. That dirty old chair of his is still here.


So... Are you gay, too?

Niles! I'm the one swinging dick this show's got left. And I am most certainly heterosexual.

Ooooh. You ARE, aren't you?

All man, you sexy piece of crumpet.

I resent the insinuation that I'm something of less than a man just because I'm a badly unbelievable straight romantic interest.

Oh, shut up, will you? (to Frasier) Let's see about this swinging dick business.

Niles, I bid you adieu.

I'm a dirty girl, you'll see...

Frasier and Daphne exit to the bedroom. After a beat, they come running back into the living room.

(holding his nose) We found Dad!


Friday, May 07, 2004

When The Golden Girls Went Off For Good, I Hit On My Sicilian Grandmother

Whew! Remind Me to stop watching series finales while abusing horse tranquilizers. I found this next to the oven when I woke up on the kitchen floor this morning. People write the craziest things when they're dealing with loss, don't they? I mean, did I just totally forget about Joey?

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Friends: The Final Scene

In Media Res...

Joey and Monica are making out furiously on the couch.

Joey, I've wanted this for so long.

I know!

Monica unbuttons her blouse. Joey is still kissing her and fumbling with his own shirt.

Did you ever think that this is how we'd wind up?

All of the talking, it's kind of killing the mood.

I'm sorry, I tend to talk a lot when I'm all, you know, excited.

It's OK. So does my sister. [beat] What?! I walked in on her once! Just take off the blouse already!

Monica slips out of her blouse.

It's funny, I always kinda thought that Chandler wanted to be a woman. But I didn't think he'd set up an appointment for surgery.

Enough with the Chandler! The cannoli is going a little soft, you know what I mean?

OK. Fine. But I can't do this with him in the room.

She reaches for her blouse.

Jesus. Fine!

Joey gets up and walks behind the couch. He reaches over to grab something. First we see ankles, then legs in khakis. The body is pulled into view. It's CHANDLER with a knife sticking out of his crotch.

Be gentle!

Come on, he's been dead for hours, and you didn't seem to mind all the making out then.

Joey, we were married. Just get rid of him, would you?

(staring at the knife in the Chandler's crotch)
Did you really need to stab him there?

What, he wasn't going to need it. And if this woman wasn't enough to keep him a man...

Don't worry, even the thought of a labia makes me sick. [beat] Not yours. Mine. I don't have one. Them? Oh, you know what I mean.

Joey drags Chandler's body to the big window by the fire escape. He picks him up and heaves the corpse onto the fire escape.

REVERSE ANGLE: We see Chandler's body land on top of ROSS' BODY, also with a knife sticking out of the crotch.

Be careful! Ross is my brother! (wistfully) Was my brother.

He'll always be your bro, Mon...

Yeah, you're right. Let's, you know, get back

Don't have to tell me twice!

Joey wrestles with his pants before finally getting free of them. He's wearing boxer shorts with Monica's face on them.

(re: boxers) How you doin'? You like?

I like!

He pins her down on the couch. They resume heavy petting.

What about Phoebe and Rachel?

They're already in Bunnies Air-ees.

Buenos Aires. Yeah, you're probably right.

As Joey reaches up Monica's skirt, we:


Monday, May 03, 2004

Eventually, She Did Eat The Banana

Mean Girls Rules the world. $25 million in opening box office? We're going to go out on a limb and guess that the crowds were evenly divided: half teeny-boppers out at the mall for a little girl time, and half middle-aged men that would be occupying the Pee Wee Herman Commemorative Cell if the ushers had a better flashlight budget.

The real story in all of this is Tina Fey. She's really taking the sexy-librarian-in-horn-rimmed-glasses thing to a delicious extreme. We hear that she wasn't quite ready to light the sex-bomb fuse back in her days at Second City in Chicago, but now that she's on-camera talent and the hottest writer of the moment, she's definitely ready to sweep the books off of the reference desk and show us the Dewey decimal codes for unbridled passion. Not that a writer would ever want to indulge in something like that. We sat down with this emerging facet of Fey's personality and had a chat.

An Interview With Tina Fey's Supposedly Reluctant Sex Symbol Status

Bunsen: Everyone knows Tina was the first female head writer of Saturday Night Live.

TFSRSSS: She's just one of the guys at SNL, really. As likely to burp, fart, or very innocently twist a lock of our her while looking over the top of her glasses, enjoying the taste of a pencil eraser against the tip of her tongue as anyone else.

Bunsen: It seems you've really taken to being on camera. It's really bringing your aspect of the personality to the forefront.

TFSRSSS: I'm still very, very shy when there's a camera around. I do it because I love it. It's all about the work, not the attention. Writing will always be my first love.

[She reaches into her purse and produces a banana.]

Bunsen: Why are you licking that banana?

TFSRSSS: This thing? What? I'm peeling it. I'm going to have a snack. You lick it and it's easier to peel.

Bunsen: You're running your tongue up and down it and winking at me.

TFSRSSS: Something got in my eye. Why are you watching me? It's really making me self-conscious.

[She unbuttons two buttons on her blouse.]

TFSRSSS: Sorry, I get hot when I'm self-conscious because someone's potentially objectifying me.

Bunsen: Any offers from Playboy yet?

TFSRSSS: Playboy? Why? There's not enough ink in their airbrushes to turn us into one of those fake-bazoomed blondes. Look here. [She unbuttons another button, then presses her breasts together to make her cleavage more pronounced.] See? These are not nearly big enough for Playboy.

Bunsen: Now that you're tracing the edge of the cleavage with the banana, I see what you mean.

TFSRSSS: Thank you. Jesus, me in Playboy. I have half a mind to put on some panties underneath this schoolgirl skirt and storm out of here.

About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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