Mario Party DS! November 19th! Watch the trailer! Pre-order that shit! Exclamation points! Your Uncle Grambo’s only regret is that I don’t know anyone else in New York who owns a DS. Think that’ll stop me from buying the latest installment of the greatest video game series ever invented? Negative Ghost Rider, your pattern is FULL!

I said it before, but I’ll say it again. If The Muggs are the Next Great American Band, I’m moving to Slovakia. Or maybe Bratislava.

The freshman bitties at MSU are nowhere near as hot as they were two years ago. The same cannot be said for the NSFdubs dorms of C-Bus. [via Big Ten Poon]

Cowboy Junkies. Performed “The Trinity Sessions” in its entirety. In London. Two weeks ago. How come no one told me about this?

Does the Fiddler have a foot fetish? We’re going with “YES!”

R.I.P Mo Pitkins.

Are tempura pumpkin blossoms the new zucchini flowers? No-eye-deer (and No Eye Becky Irabu). Howevs, we will go on record saying we will eat anything that’s been deep fried in sweet, sweet tempura. Even looseleaf paper … but only if it’s college-ruled!

Big ups to The Heff for pointing out the oh-so-fab vlog (Ed. Note - “vlog” = worst word evs) I Do Nothing All Day. Awesome extension of a concept first pioneered by the seminal (heh) Office Pirates featch, “Women Walking Around During Lunchtime.” Btw, every day in NYC is like this. At least in Midtown during the lunching hours, that is. Which begs the q, why are you still living where you live? Seers.

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Those crafty, crafty stoners graphic designers over at the DetNews have redefined journalistic synergy with the intricately rendered (and photorealistic!) CGI computer graphics they put together for their BREAKTHROUGH story on how your blog/MySpace profile can come back to haunt you during your next job search. Take a long gander at the graphic of what appears to be some illegitimate child of Bill Walton standing in front of a giant marijuana leaf on the computer screen in the image above. Then, re-read the story’s lede. Anything catch your eye? Like, maybe, “Weed out”? Clearly, this is the work of someone equally versed with the work of both J. Spicoli and J. Jonah Jameson. Brills.

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Your Uncle Grambo spent Mother’s Day weekend back in The D™. Rather than get all verbose on your asses about what an incredible time it was, I’ll let the snaps do the talking. Natch.

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Not sure exactly who Abbey Clancy is, but now I know that I should start caring. Giggity!

• Julie Roehm, former rock star CMO and 2006 Grambo’s Gals Finalist, is once again back in the news now that Wal-Mart has filed a countersuit against Roehm’s wrongful dismissal suit. While there’s no denying that there was some inappropriate email action going down between Roehm and one of her (male) subordinates, your Uncle Grambo still thinks that Wal-Mart is the villian in this story. Not just because Roehm is a hottie, either. Rather, because it seems to this observer that Wal-Mart’s corporate ethics policy seems to be unnecessarily stingy (much like it was when I was at GM). [via Gawker]

• While these pics of Katherine Heigl picking a wedgie are pretty disheartening (in that it brings her back down to Earth from her orbit in the Fantasy Vixen Supreme solar system), it ain’t gonna stop her from becoming America’s Next Top Sweetheart™.

• James Murphy really digs the drugs, eh? I say no biggs, esp. if continuing to live in a state of chemical complicity allows him to make another “Sound Of Silver.”

• Is this really what Rufus meant when he sang “My phone’s on vibrate for you”? (NSFDubs)

• Best random Nintendo reset evs? It comes courtesy of a song that’s been getting a lot of spins in your Uncle Grambo’s iPod of late. The song in question is the long-forgotten “Shuffle It All” by Izzy Stradlin & The Ju Ju Hounds, which just so happens to be one of the most underrated jawns from the early `90s. What raises the song from merely good to all-time best evs is the fact that it resets Dr. Mario (” My woman playing Dr. Mario / On the TV all night long”), easily the best 2 player game in the history of Nintendo.

• Lindsayism is right. This IS bullshit.

• Leafblower is right, too. Both Record Reviews and Send Me Dead Flowers are bringing all sorts of A-Game back to The Blogosphere™. Helmed by The Gorilla and Kegzies, respectively, it’s like it’s 2004 all ovah again up in this bitch. BRAVO!

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The reviews of “300″ are in. From the looks of it, “300″ is one of those films that gets critics worked up into such a frenzy that they have to go out prove the old adage that the pen is mightier than the sword. Slate’s Dana Stevens (a person who, for the record, I absolutely adore) calls it “a mythic ode to righteous bellicosity¹”, The New York Post’s Kyle Smith imagines that Hitler Youth will be “heil-fiving each other throughout” and A.O. “Call Me Tony” Scott rips it as being “about as violent as Apocalypto and twice as stupid.” Ouchers!

But despite the critical onslaught, your Uncle Grambo will probably pay to see the movie twice this weekend. Once because I’m a fanboy who LIVES for big screen cinematic spectacles like this, but TWICE because my boy Eric Gillin sent me the following review after attending a screening on Monday night: “Tits. Violence. Anger. Repeat. It’s the shit.” Hallelujah hollaBACK, witches!

• For those of you who haven’t been following All Things Uncle Grambo as closely as I have, it’s important to note that I have been in the middle of not one but TWO beefs on Gawker Media sites this week. First, Ben Mathis-Lilley took the opportunity to close his 2007 Detroit Tigers preview by rehashing a particularly nasty comment I made about him way back in 2004. Although he wrote that my actions “disturbed some people in my family when they Googled my name”, it turns out that they did NOT, in fact, ever see this². Because, as I pointed out that day in the comments (which makes me a Deadspin commenter, I suppose), Google didn’t even RETURN this search result until the publication of his piece. So, Ben, I would like to take this opportunity to let you know that I don’t have anything personal against you. I just hope, for your sake, that your employers at Slate employ better fact-checkers than they do at Deadspin. Wouldn’t want to see you wind up back in Midland because of some some Jayson Blair type shazz!

  The second beef involved a petty little piece that Idolator wrote about Stereogum’s decision to make fun of Celine Dion. Apparently in Idolator’s eyes, poking fun at the “vaunted” 33 1/3 book series and their decision to release a book about Celine Dion is tantamount to crossing a line in the sands of coolness. Blogga PLEASE! Your retaliation post would’ve made a lot more sense if you would’ve at least disclosed that someone at Idolator is apparently friendly enough with Carl Wilson (author of said Celine text) to have invited him to participate in their inaugural 2007 Jackin Pop Critics Poll. Now don’t get me wrong, I can respect the fact that you want to defend your friend, but next time why not just preface your post by admitting as much? To borrow a phrase from long-time Stereogum (and Klosterman!) fave Billy Joel, “Honesty is hardly ever heard. And mostly what I need from you.”

• The Onion recently launched a new blog called The Hater. Its tagline, “The pop culture blog for people who can’t fucking stand pop culture blogs”, is probably the best tagline for any website since “PHCFYSB.”

• This just in: Winona Ryder is NOT dead. I repeat, NOT dead. Phew. Your Uncle Grambo spent about 20 minutes yesterday mourning her loss, glad she’s still with us.

• Your Uncle Grambo isn’t normally one to spend much time watching E! … Aside from Catt Sadler and “The Soup”, there’s nothing even remotely redeeming about the network. But thanks to The Senator, I’ve found myself watching “The Girls Next Door” on more than one occasion. I don’t know about you, but I’m of the opinion that Holly is quite the catch for an old cad like Hef. Well, it turns out she hasn’t always been the girl next door. Before plastic surgery, she was more like the hideous wretch down the street.

In closing, your Uncle Grambo would be lying if I said that I wasn’t missing The Blowout. In an email exchange last night, JTL put it best: “Go ahead. Tell me you miss it. The Molson sweats on the morning commute. The cable-knit sweater mouth as you go through your work day. The bulge of a crumpled-up Blowout lineup in your front pocket. The ‘Hamtramck Stumble.’ Go ahead.” You’re god damn right, I miss all of those things and more. After all, your Uncle Grambo has some very fond memories of Blowouts past. But just like it will for my beloved Betty Marie Best (who is rumoured to have moved to Chicago), a time will come for your Uncle Grambo later this evening in which I’ll be walking down some dark street, wishing it were Joseph Campau. At that point, the nostalgia will begin mixing with the booze and I’ll decide that it’s time to begin making my way back to Murray Hill. When the M15 drops me at home, I’ll fire up The Internerd™ and check out what Loftus has to say on The Metro Times Music Blahg. And what Jasper is raving about on WebVomit. And I’ll even fight off the slumber long enough to log onto Motor City Rocks, just to find out how many Molsons Big Matt drank that night. Have fun at The Blowout, kids. Your Uncle misses you tons. Pound a few for me.

¹Don’t worry, I had to look it up, too.
²He would later admit to this in the comments.

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