As a film enthusiast I eagerly limber up each late January Tuesday morning to find out what movies, actors, actresses, writers, industry types, fluffers, etc., I and everyone else will be snarkily Tweeting about or Facebook statusing about come that Hot March Sunday Night where Hollywood Boulevard shoos away all the shitheads (winos eating out of Hooters’ garbage, trainhopping punk kids with their Op Ivy shirts, any and all celebrity impersonators outside the Chinese Theater, Mexicans) and rolls out the red carpet!

Yesterday morning, the 84th Annual Academy Awards nominees were announced.  I didn’t see much of the nominated films, so the hub-bub didn’t really hub-bub the fucking hub-bub out of me.  The only two nominated films (all categories) I saw this year were Hugo and War Horse (pathetic, I know! Even more pathetic because I shilled out $15 to see The Smurfs in 3D!).  But what was worse was my absolute shock of films that didn’t get nominated!  In any category!

Here I present the 2011 films that the Academy must’ve had a mailing mishap with their screeners, because there’s just no other excuse to explain how in the absolute fuck did these not get nominated?!?!?!

Battle: Los Angeles

We were graced, earlier this year, by this tale of aliens invading my good city of Los Angeles (they should’ve just invaded Torrance and took out this one girl I used to fuck, God what a cunt) and just blowing it all to shit.  The Academy usually loves big spectacles, so why not this one? Hey Academy, L.A. is your town, too. And to depict a film where your town, Los Angeles, gets attacked by some pretty scary looking outer space assholes is no cake walk.  People died in this film.  People of Los Angeles.  And for you to overlook the martyrdom of the good people of the same city that you call home is a fucking horseshit cop out.  Fucking ludicrous.

Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Big Happy Family

Can they just fucking give Perry an Oscar already? Shit. The man busts his ass every single year, giving the people what they want. Tales of morality and farting and family issues that no one can even grasp quite like Tyler Perry.  This was like the huge ensemble film that Lawrence Kasdan or Robert Altman couldn’t have even dreamed of.  And the fact that – outside of Bow Wow, who was also robbed of an Oscar for his weighty performance in Lottery Ticket – he went with a cast of unknowns shows Perry’s humility.  He’s not afraid to tell Janet Jackson or the Reverend Marvin Winans to get lost for this outing, and that he’s going to take a group of unknowns and transform them into acting masters.  Tyler, you are a master, and the Academy needs to clean the shit out of their eyes.

Noisy Boy, Real Steel

The day in the future is going to come when the Academy will start recognizing robots.  Nobody ever thought an African American, an Asian American, a homosexual, or even a pedophile (Alan Ball) could be nominated for an Oscar, much less win one.  Dogs or cats can’t be nominated because they’re unpredictable (and, unless they can talk like they do in Marmaduke, they can’t recite human speech, so don’t be expecting any famous movie quotes), so that leaves robots.  The Academy should consider awarding robots. Now.  Get it out of the way now so that 100 years from now when an animatronic Lawrence Olivier walks up to the podium for his portrayal of Julius Caesar, he won’t give this big boring speech about the goodwill of robot actors “…we never forget our lines because they’re programmed!”

Bryan Cranston, Larry Crowne

He deserves an Oscar just for this one line in the movie: “I like big knockers!!!”

Hank Azaria, The Smurfs

You didn’t think I was going to leave this one out, did you?  One of the few movies I actually did see this year, The Smurfs pretty much sucked mummy dick.  However, the lone bright spot was Hank Azaria’s fearless performance as Gargamel. The spell chanting! The scene where he takes a dump in the wine bucket at the fancy restaurant! The nonstop scenes of him trying to “emerge” from New York street mist! The mugging, oh, the mugging! Azaria’s performance is one for the ages, and it should be proof that as actors, actors should never fear anything except inspiring stalkers.  Give him a fucking Oscar, Academy!

Give them all Oscars!


"I'm a sexy vegetable" (Drool)


So almost 2 weeks have passed and the beard is coming in much better.  Judging by this photo, I’m at the point that most post-op transgender men are at when their testosterone is working.  I’m not at full-on Francis Ford Coppola beard-stage yet but I’ll be getting there.  Look at my mouth sideways.  It looks like a party doll’s labia (not the cheap ones but the $200 ones, the inflatable rubbery latex ones; how I know this is beyond me, I’m not THAT desperate.  I think I saw one on an old episode of HBO’s Real Sex back in 2000).


New Episode!!!


“I feel like a Chia Pet” – the lower half of Don Takano’s face

Day 2: I didn’t drink or smoke pot last night, and I took a shower.  The beard is starting to come in just a little bit.  I’m starting to look like an Italian grandmother, or a derelict.  The feel of it is starting to feel less like sandpaper and more like velcro, whatever that means.  Stay tuned…


The New Internet Meme?



January 11, 2012.

I’ve decided to grow a beard again.  Partly because most of the girls I’m attracted to on OKCupid.com say that they are into beards (because I need to get laid, not that I don’t but because I am a nymphomaniac, which in street terms means ‘cool, legal sex offender’).  Also partly because 2012 is a new year, and it’s time for a new ‘me’. I’m tired of looking like a boy.  I want to look like a fucking man!

If people have a problem with me growing a beard, they can go to fucking hell!

But here, at current, is my beard.  I’m at my work desk, wearing my pink t-shirt with the Zenith logo on it (I bought it online fyi).  I am reminded of the lead singer of Winger.  Or Lorenzo Lamas.  You know? Not a full beard, not a five o’clock shadow, but something just right.

Stay tuned for Day 2!


I’m excited beyond all shit that the next episode of Hyperchuckle FM will be up and running by the week’s end!  It’s funnier than at least the first 2 episodes combined! It’s gotten better, I shall say that.

Please check out the previous 3 episodes of my podcast, Hyperchuckle FM!



Rod Cadbury is Hyperchuckle FM's resident advice columnist. He is also an avid fisherman with diabetes.


Dear Rod:

I’m having a sort of dilhemma.  My wife and I have been married for 31 years.  We always have our differences.  She doesn’t like the fact that I’m an alcoholic and I don’t like the fact that her taste in interior decor isn’t exactly Versailles Palace.  Anyway, I have a shed out in the backyard where I like to gut fish, deer, rabbits, etc.  So miss Martha Stewart decides to give my workshed a woman’s touch.  She puts silk drapes on the walls where my tools usually are, and a potpourri basket where I usually toss discarded animal guts.  I haven’t struck my wife since the O.J. Simpson verdict (she thinks he didn’t do it) and I came pretty damn close.  I love her so much and I hope to find some sort of compromise.  Can you help?


Angry Husband.

Dear Angry Husband,

Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.  I also noticed in your letter that you like to fish.  That’s great! Fishing is a great way to relieve stress, and it’s also a fun way to spend time alone and experience a found sense of serenity with nature.  What kind of bait do you use?  Are you live worm man, or a live cricket man?  Or maybe you use artificial lure? That reminds me, some Vietnam buddies and myself are getting together at the end of the month to go saltwater fishing in the Gulf of Mexico.  I hope to catchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sorry! I fell into a diabetic coma there.  It happens.  Sometimes I plain forget my insulin.  Anyway, I hope to catch some tuna, possibly some marlin.  I’ve never eaten marlin before.  I wonder if the texture is too rubbery.  Anyway, I would just take all that girly stuff down.  And try to compromise with your wife and don’t let your emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Another diabetic seizure.  Christ. What I was saying was, don’t let your emotions get in the way.  Let her know that there’s a place for the girly decor, and that your workshed is not one of those places.  If she won’t listen, eat fast food in front of her for 1 month as a retaliation to her cooking or something.  I love fast food.  As a diabetic, I can’t necessarily eat fast food, but that’s a secret that my doctor should never find out! Catch those fish!

Dear Rod:

My son is 15 years old and has changed a lot in the last year.  He went from wearing nice clothes that I picked out for him from JC Penney, to wearing these scary looking shirts and jeans that he ripped up himself.  Those Bugle Boy jeans didn’t cost peanuts either! He also likes to listen to this band called Dead Kennedys! It’s all noise.  Is there a way to turn my son back to normal, or will I have to suffer this once beautiful caterpillar turning into an ugly butterfly? Also, he sometimes says strange things and his vernacular is as if he’s on drugs or something. Help!


Scared Parent

Dear Scared Parent:

Do you and your son a favor.  When he comes home from school, make sure you have the following on his bed, waiting for him: a nice fisherman’s hat; a dependable rod and reel; a beginner’s tacklebox, nothing too fancy, with artificial bait (he may not be interested in live bait); some rubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Sorry, diabetic seizure.  Happens.  Anyways, some nice rubber boots.  You may not want to go overboard and get him a fisherman’s vest just yet.  I hope this plan works.  He’ll hopefully stop listening to that Dead Kennedys nonsense and start appreciating the fun, calm and rewarding aspects of fishing.  And if he doesn’t, well, that’s a loss.  I’m sure the music he listens to is a ticket to hell.  Sorry for being blunt, but you’re going to have to face facts.  But 8 times out of 10, it should work.  And, with luck, he’ll start talking like a normal person again! Hope I could be of help. Time for me to help myself to some sugar-free pudding.

If you have any questions or comments for Rod Cadbury, please send them to [email protected]


This is NOT to be meant as a response to all the BULLSHIT in the wake of the L.A. comedy BS involving the misconcieved fact that Comedian Patton Oswalt is NOT, BASED ON EXISTENTIAL FACT, an “asshole”…

I have never, ever met comedian Patton Oswalt. Ever. There was one time when I used to post videos on the first annual year run of Funnyordie.com, where I had a video titled “You’re A Vagina” in which comedian Oswalt commented on (in an albeit NEGATIVE way) and so I never replied back… outside of that, comedian Oswalt and I have never made contact. Fact.

But other people? Here are the FIVE BIGGEST ASSHOLES I’VE EVER MET…EVER.

5) Anne Beatts

Credentials: National Lampoon, Saturday Night Live, Square Pegs, A Different World

WHAT HAPPENED: One night, The Hideout (a great, conscientious music venue not far from the hip-as-beyond-balls Chicago hipster neighborhood of Wicker Park)… had an interesting night. It was an open mic of the old-school Lampoon contributors, basically. Who was there? Brian McConnachie (SNL Season 4-5 writer; co-starred in ‘Strange Brew’); Anne Beatts (started at National Lampoon; moved on to SNL; went on to do pilot productions for both Square Pegs and A Different World; Chris Miller (co-wrote Animal House)… yeah.

HERE’S WHERE IT GOT UGLY: After the Hideout Lampoon night ended, everyone broke apart in the crowd and headed out the door. Anne Beatts, accompanied by an assistant, stormed her way through the crowd. I was lucky enough to get a handshake in and she just barreled on right past me. No acknowledgement. Nothing. Later that evening, I got to chat with Brian McConnachie and Chris Miller, both of whom were really nice guys. Anne Beatts was floating around, and there was one point where she and I were face to face. She took one look at me and then scoffed, went “Ugh” and walked right past me. Jesus, lady, and I wasn’t even going to ask you about the time that you were with Michael O’Donoghue! Lighten up! Man, that was fucking terrible!

4) Russell Simmins

Credentials: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion drummer; drummer for late 90’s supergroup Butter 08, in addition to other bands; looks like Judah Friedlander minus the trucker hat and glasses.

WHAT HAPPENED: May 8, 2002. My 21st birthday. I’ve always been a JSBX fan since the mid-90’s. “Wail” is awesome; the Mike Mills-directed video of “2 Kindsa Love” was awesome too. I got a ticket to their headlining show that night at Chicago’s famed venue Metro. Liars were the opening band, too, and this was before they got exposure.

HERE’S WHERE IT GOT UGLY: During Liars’ performance, Simmins was floating around the crowd in a vain attempt to make his presence known. At one point, he stood at the back of the venue on the floor at the Metro. I, drunk (it was my 21st birthday for Chrissakes), approached him from the side and extended my hand, nothing more or less. He shook it, although he did not turn to me, nor did he even look at me. As he half-heartedly shook my hand, he kept right on looking at the stage. What a motherfucking dick. So, what’s he doing for money these days?

3) Brian Posehn

Credentials: Mr. Show, The Sarah Silverman Program, The Devil’s Rejects, anything comedy/metal related.

WHAT HAPPENED: Back in October 2011, I got asked to be a part of an ongoing monthly show at the Improv Lab. I was beyond excited. The Improv Lab, as you all know, is in conjunction with the Improv itself, and pretty much the bar. The bar at the Improv is where you’ll eventually bump into a famous person involved in comedy. The very first time I ever went to the Improv bar, I got to meet Nick Swardson, who was actually pretty cool. But on this October night, Brian Posehn was at the bar…

HERE’S WHERE IT GOT UGLY: Posehn was chatting it up with Nick Thune (whom I also met before this, and he’s also a nice guy) and I approached Posehn and extended my hand. Nothing. Posehn just kept talking to Thune. I then put my hand on his left shoulder in order to REALLY get his attention. Again, nothing. I had my fucking hand on his shoulder and he did not once turn to me or even acknowledge me. I ended up walking away, loudly muttering “asshole” as I kept right on walking.

2) Harold Ramis

Credentials: SCTV, co-wrote Animal House, directed Caddyshack and Groundhog Day, is Egon Spengler

WHAT HAPPENED: Back in October of 2003, I was struggling big time, working a shitty job as a back waiter at a private dining club in conjunction with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. One night, our manager told us that a “celebrity” was going to dine with us that night, and that he “loves to be acknowledged”. When asked of who this celebrity was, the manager replied, “Harold Ramis”. I shit you not, everyone there then looked around at each other and went, “Who?” I was the only person excited. I went, “Harold Ramis! He was Egon in Ghostbusters! He directed Groundhog Day! He co-wrote fucking Animal House!” I essentially was the only person there who even knew who Harold Ramis even was…

HERE’S WHERE IT GOT UGLY: As Ramis finished his dinner and his party (a party of 4) sat silently, waiting to finish up and leave, I approached him at his table. I simply stated, “Hi, Mr. Ramis. I’m a big admirer of what you’ve done, I just wanted you to know.” As I was pouring my heart out to him, he sat, with crossed arms, looking straight down at the table, never ever once looking at or even acknowledging me, going “Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh…” as I kept talking him up. I then mentioned that “I’m getting to comedy writing” to which he quickly replied “Good luck” in a flat, defeating, remorseless manner. Wow. I then extended my hand out to shake his. He did in fact shake my hand, although he kept right on staring down. It was the worst celebrity encounter I’ve ever had, and because of Harold “Fatass” Ramis, I am actually now uber-cautious of meeting celebrities. Thanks, asshole!

1) Billy Bob Thornton

Credentials: Sling Blade, The Man Who Wasn’t There, Bad Santa, he used to fuck Angelina Jolie in her early 20s

WHAT HAPPENED: Billy Bob Thornton was in Chicago in the early summer of 2004, filming Ice Harvest with John Cusack (speaking of celebrity assholes, I hung out once with his High Fidelty stand-in, and he told me some pretty awful horror stories about John Cusack being a megalomaniacal dick) and, lo and behold, it was directed by Harold Ramis. It flopped, thank Christ.

HERE’S WHERE IT GOT UGLY: May 8, 2004. My 23rd birthday. I was barhopping all over Lakeview. I ended up at the old Bottom Lounge, back when it was a hole-in-the-wall venue off Belmont. I was doing my share of Jameson and Patron shots by the time I stumbled outside. The first person I bump into is Billy Bob Thornton. I say, “Hey, you’re Billy Bob Thornton!” He then curtly replied, “No I’m not. I’m his cousin.” I then looked at him bewildered. I extended my hand to shake his and he didn’t budge an inch. I was like, “You fucking asshole”. I then said, “Tell Billy Bob I said Hi. I know he’s town filming Ice Harvest.” Thornton then gives me the ultimate fuck you stare and replies, “Who the fuck are you?” I then reply, “Come on, man, don’t be a dick, it’s my birthday tonight.” He continued to stare at me as if I was the biggest piece of dogshit in the galaxy. I stumbled away, and Thornton and I went our separate ways.

Yep. Celebrities are dicks!