SKIJORING
Pronounced “skee-YOR-ing,” or by a select few “She-Whoring.”  You should know we do this all the time in Minnesota, in fact on weekends the city streets are packed with horses wildly cantering while avid skijorers fly off the roofs of parked cars  and bus stops.  It’s a sport for anyone with a pair of skis and a horse, or a couple of dogs, or maybe in a pinch several cats. You might be able to pull this off with a well-organized train of highly motivated guinea pigs, and if you are please let us know and we’ll post your picture.

KITE-SKIING
Pronounced just as it sounds, this ultra-current sport replaces draft animals with a very large kite, the kind you might use to pop over waves in Australia, or perhaps drown under in Cancun. It’s not an easy sport, requiring a lot of skill and strangth, so think twice before casually “dabbling” in this or any sport that can cause your arms to rip out of their sockets.

WINTER CYCLING
If you enjoy looking like an ass, just put on all the clothes you own, wedge some very expensive studded knobby tires on your bicycle and get out there in traffic. Here in Minnesota we all know folks who resolutely endanger themselves and others on our increasingly slippery and narrow snow-bound streets, adamantly refusing to drive or even take the bus in any weather, opting to pretend they’re having fun as gallons of salty slush assault their backsides and their faces, all the while chanting their desperate mantra “this is good for the environment.” But they are not having fun, they are some of the planet’s most wretched creatures.  For me the comforting thought is that these are the same people who in the summer wear bright, heavily branded tights so thin and taut, every wrinkly detail of their genitalia is not only on display, but enhanced.

TRAYING
A close cousin of tubing, traying has been practiced on college campuses in northern climes for decades. The equipment is simple: a snowy hill and a cafeteria tray, and since the trayer is already essentially sliding downhill ass-first, there’s little risk of injury. And there’s that special pride in knowing that the next day, the tray which now holds your classmate’s pancakes just hours before held your own butt cheeks.

SKITCHING
If you’re stupid, you’re probably familiar with the nefarious act of skitching, which involves grabbing on to the back of a car on a snowy, icy street and skidding along on your feet as the car careens on, barely in control and without knowing that you’re back there. We cannot endorse this, primarily because it’s exceedingly dangerous, but also because it’s the kind of winter thing fans of Steve-O might engage in. It’s a good bet that anyone who routinely skitches also owns a Jagermeister six-bottle shot cooler and is fond of saying “whoo” as loudly as he can, indoors. So if you must skitch, we suggest you grab the back fender of the nearest winter cyclist and go for a ride. Remember to yell “whoo.”

ICE FISHING
Speaking of drinking, there’s perhaps no sport that for most people defines the Upper Midwest better than ice fishing. We need to broaden the definition of the word “sport” to include “sitting on your ass all day and leafing through the SI Swimsuit Edition,” but in fact it’s one of the few winter activities that can provide food.

SHOOTING AT THINGS
I’ve never quite understood the Winter Biathlon Olympic event, which combines cross-country skiing and shooting, and appears to wring the fun out of both. Minnesotans prefer to venture out into the deep woods in a Carhartt coverall and blast God’s creatures to pieces. There’s a season for every conceivable wild animal here short of rats, so grab your shotgun and leave your girly little skis at home.
There.  Now take ‘n’ get out there while the gettin’s good, you D.C. dwellers, you shivering Mid-Atlanticans. It won’t be long until the summer humidity causes your shirt to adhere to your back, and you’ll be looking back to this time saying “why didn’t I go skijoring when I had the chance?”

http://www.ncm.com/Fathom/Comedy/RiffTrax_Xmas_Live.aspx

Well, OK, let’s have some official information about out new RiffTrax Live show!!!!!

Q: When?

A: Wednesday, 12/16 and an encore (rebroadcast) on Thursday 12/17 at 8:00pmET / 7:00pmCT / 6:00pmMT and 8:00pmPT (tape delay)

Q: Where?

A: Close to 500 movie theaters across the country. Find out your nearest theater and buy tickets by entering your zip code here

Q: Where is it being broadcast from?

A: The California Center for the Arts in Escondido.  Escondido is a few miles up the highway from RiffTrax HQ in San Diego, and is among other things, the home of the Stone Brewery where we show movies during the summer. It’s a great theater

Q: When do tickets go on sale for that show?

A: Sometime next week. Follow us on twitter for the up to date announcements about it: http://twitter.com/rifftrax

Q: We don’t want to use twitter because ________

A: It’s the best way to get this info. We’ll try to post here, but no guarantees.

Q: Weird Al!?!?!

A: We know! It’s going to be awesome. He’s guest riffing with us for the first time since Jurassic Park!!!

Q: What’s the program consist of ?

A: Shorts! Lots of them. And the vast majority of them are brand new! Most of them are completely bizarre things you’ve never seen before.

Q: Why is The Onion’s logo on the email?

A: Because they are sponsoring our show. Awesome, right?

Q: Why isn’t the show at my theater?

A: This is not our decision nor is it something we have control over. Please contact your local theater and ask them if they’re capable of showing Fathom Events. A few people were able to get theaters to add our last show just by reaching out to their theater managers.

Q: Why is this not available outside the US?

A: Again, not our decision, that’s just how the Fathom system works as of now.

Q: Why isn’t this LIVE on the west coast?

A: Because that would be at five PM and not many people would be able to make it.

Q: Do we need to buy tickets in advance?

A: Why not? Plenty of theaters sold out last time, why risk it?

Any other questions? Let us know!

Damn, was that fun.  Rifftrax Live was beamed nationwide Thursday night with only a few satellite glitches along the way. The show rocketed by for those of us onstage, and the live theater audience in Nashville was the kind you want to take home with you.  And as reports around the country have come in, I’m even more amazed.  Hearing that people of all ages joined in singing about eating brains is the kind of thing that doesn’t happen at most movies.

I want to thank Legend’s pair of David Martins, who were everywhere they were needed before they were asked.  For those who laughed during the pre-show slides, give a round of applause to Rifftrax writer Conor Lastowka who cooked up the funny and served it as a brilliant crowd warmer-upper.  Thanks to our production guys and gals in Nashville, and to Erik and crew back at Rifftrax for keeping the site from going the way of Bela Lugosi.

Of course Big thanks to Veronica Belmont for deftly navigating our weirdness and keeping the whole thing out of the “Boyz-Only” club.  Thanks to Rich Lowtax Kyanka and his videos, which make me laugh every time I see them.  And to Jonathan Coulton for his steady supply of talent, funny and as our own Bridget would say, terrific phrasing.

Most of all, a heartfelt thanks to all of you for showing up.  You made all the difference, you made it that much more fun.  It’s a good bet we’ll be doing this again.

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BILL adds –

A post-show photo courtesy of David G. Martin: The Cast of This Evening’s Play.

N.B.: As this picture shows, I am constantly distracted by my Skoal-chewing. And Kevin is NOT allowed to touch people.

If you’re a winner, please email support@rifftrax.com with your Name, mailing address and if you won tickets, the theater you’d like to see the show at.  (Remember, a list of theaters carrying RiffTrax Live on Thursday, 8/20 can be found here.)

Three Winners get a pair of tickets to RiffTrax Live!

This entry from “Kevin” references my favorite line from the ultra-grim short (my favorite kind) about misfit kids, Each Child is Different.

This entry, from Danny Gallagher, references a line said by Kevin in the surprisingly mega-popular RiffTrax for Twilight. The line, to reiterate, is said by Kevin.

This entry is from Creighton S. and references a line from our Pirates of the Caribbean RiffTrax

That’s it for the tickets.  But we have here two special entries that we’d also like to reward with a signed lobby poster for the Plan 9 show.  Call them the Judges Private Selection if you will.  See if you can identify the common thread:

Pjwaldron came up with this The Room referencing caption

And Landon Cowan came up with this Room related one, that no matter how dark and evil it is, still made me laugh.

Thanks to everyone who entered, and be sure to come out and see us on Thursday, 8/20 for RiffTrax Live!!!

Since this is an amazing show featuring our funniest riffs of Plan 9 yet, an unreleased short, and the talented contributions of Veronica Belmont, Jonathan Coulton and Rich “Lowtax” Kyanka, I figured what better way to promote it than by recaptioning some old Family Circus cartoons!

All you have to do is take any of these Family Circus cartoons and recaption them with an (in)appropriate RiffTrax riff or quote from a RiffTrax’d movie.  Paraphrasing is OK, but I have to understand what you’re getting at.  Make me laugh, and win a pair of tickets.  We’ll pick winners at the end of the day tomorrow and you’ll get your tickets in the mail.  Be sure you specify which cartoon your caption is for!

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For all the info about our RiffTrax Live event, check out the page here.  Also included is a box for you to enter your zip code to see the nearest theater.

It’s mercurial, this internets of ours, unpredictable and volatile.  The tubes get clogged, people wail and weep, but the sun rises and sets and the local bakery still has crullers on special.  Here at Rifftrax we’ve had the hard crashes that come from being swamped with attention.  It’s not fun, but it’s oddly comforting  to know that we’re not the only ones.

So here’s a suggestion: Today, use the time you’d normally waste on Twitter here.  Maybe download and enjoy one of our shorts.  Or order tickets to our August 20th nationwide live show in theaters everywhere.  Drop in on the forum and discuss movies, social networking, breakfast meats, whatever strikes your fancy.  Then maybe take a walk.  it’s a nice day here; if you have rain, bring an umbrella, or get a little wet.  You could even head down to the local bakery and get yourself a cruller.

Why hell, you could have a nice conversation!  For instance: This is what we in the Midwest call a cruller, particularly in Wisconsin:

Whereas many of you in other parts of the country call this a cruller:

We call that a French donut, which makes it no less delicious.  There, see?  we’re having a conversation, learning about each other without any social networking. In fact, why don’t you folks give us and each other some ideas on what to do when your favorite social networking service is offline.  And enjoy a potentially Twit-free day.

-kwm

See what I mean?  By the way, Tor’s on the left. Tor’s a bit easier to understand than Vin, even with the former’s thick Scandinavian accent.  Whereas Tor’s blunt tenor dialogue delivery puts me in mind of a slab of aluminum pig, the deep mumbly register of Vin’s voice has been known to set off car alarms.  As for raw acting ability, it’s a toss-up for me.  But there’s enough of Tor in Vin to get your cinematic taste buds primed for August 20th.

In the meantime, here’s a  quick and easy summer recipe inspired by the plot of Fast and Furious.

FAST AND FURIOUS POTATO SALAD
Serves 8-10 as a side dish

6 lbs. large russet potatoes, skin on
1- Mossberg 590 Mariner 8+1 12 gauge shotgun
6 – shells 00 buckshot
1 – 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS LS6 454 (preferably red)
Salt and pepper to taste

- BEAT potatoes one by one with your bare fists until soft.
-FIRE one round of buckshot into each shell, distributing shot evenly as possible
-PULVERIZE potatoes by driving over them with Chevelle until well mixed
-Season with salt and pepper.

Now here’s Kevin (right, with Bill Corbett) sporting his dreary old look.  His dogged refusal to surrender his facial hair is problematic, but we’ve come up with an elegant, sophisticated solution - the face mitten.

The beard is no longer a problem.  The loosely vested top accentuates Kevin’s broad shoulders and draws attention from his kidney fat and pit ham.  Sure it’s a bold statement, but is it bold enough?

We asked our readers to contribute their vision, and boy, was that ever the right idea! Daisyj worked the face mitten with something more leggy:

Wook, among other more adventurous combinations,  urges Kevin to adopt a more youthful line in his couture:

But it took BEMaven to put the whole thing together, and it hits you like a bolt out of the blue: OF COURSE!  THE BRIAN BLESSED LOOK!!!

Here the beard is in balance with the wings, there’s a helmet (Kevin loves helmets) and he gets to show a little leg.  Okay a lot of leg.  All right, way too much leg.  But on an ursine fellow like Kevin, I believe we have assembled a comfortable, versatile look that’s absolutely perfect for Comic-Con.

Thank you all!  Hope none of this haunts your dreams!  It’ll certainly haunt mine!  On to the Con!

(*Looks may not be entirely new.)

Here’s a sample of what occured behind the scenes.  I believe Paul might have suffered a hernia.

We’re in the final stages of prep work for our live online show, and a new first – an entire feature film, lovingly riffed for your enjoyment.

We’ll start the evening at 6pm Pacific Time with a short film, one of our absolute favorites, Shake Hands With Danger, which you can watch for free. It’s a sexy, freewheelin’ industrial accident film set to a toe-tapping country-rock score.

Then if you’d like to see the feature film, just buy a ticket, step behind the velvet rope and follow the surprisingly easy instructions.

Tonight’s movie Planet of Dinosaurs is the kind of classic well-aged cheese that’s always perfect for riffing.  A spaceship is marooned on a distant planet crawling (actually sparsely peppered with) dinosaurs.  It’s a battle of man against wire-frame stop-action clay model, and you can expect a lot of action-packed, thrill-a-minute aimless walking.

After the movie, stick around for a chance to interact with Mike, Bill and Kevin – we promise you a genuine surprise or two.  Tickets are on sale now.  Hope you can join us!

Sparkly vampires!  Sexy Stooges! Mambo-ing zombies!  Bowie-ing Nelson!  They’re all here, and more!

Ever since Rifftrax started, people have asked, “When are you guys going to do more music? What’s the matter with you?  Why are Kevin’s pants so femmy?”    Well in answer to the first question, we’re officially tickled to introduce our first collection, Music for Riffing.  All ten of these songs are inspired by movies we’ve riffed, movies you love, or hate or simply laugh along with us.  From the sublime (Jaws) to the ridiculous (Reefer Madness) to the downright silly (Twilight), these movies all hold a special something that compelled us to sing, or groan, or croak somewhere near the appropriate key.

We hope you enjoy, and we hope this is the first batch of many more songs to come.  Keep checking back to the music page, we’ll be adding more soon. And in honor of our riff of Twilight, here’s a sample of Bill’s delightfully gutless confection, “Sparkly Vampires.”

Believe me folks, this isn’t William Shakespeare.  I don’t know who it is, but it’s not him.  Me, I believe it to be a cleverly rendered portrait of System of a Down Guy.

See what I mean?  This kind of thing happens all the time.  Another example, this famous image, once the property of the Duke of Chandros.

Posh.  it’s Paul Giamatti. Plain as Hell.   Anyone can see that.  No friends, I shall cling to the ONLY ACCURATE PORTRAIT of the English Language’s greatest artist:

That is the short and the long of it.   I’ll not budge an inch.

…Hopes you have a good weekend.  He also wants you to know that he loves you all.  He loves you very, very much.  I mean, wow, he loves you so much, it’s almost indecent.  Strike that, it is indecent.  But if loving you is wrong, Skeletor doesn’t wanna be right.

Ah. you laugh.  See, if you’d only love Skeletor back, just a little, he’d stay in Snake Mountain and leave Eternia at peace.  But no, you mock Skeletor, and now he must lash out, using all his powers to destroy you.  Even the Terror Claws – don’t make him use the Terror Claws!

Anyway, Have a good weekend.  And all hail Skeletor.

Congratulations and thank you to all who sent in their Amounts of Something in response to the title of the new Bond Film.  Your responses gave me a demijohn of elation.

For me, the one that put it over the top was Barleycorn of Tedium.  Says it all.  And I learned that Barleycorn was at one time not only a grain of the mentioned grain, but also a unit of measure.  What’s more,  it sounds so English, don’ it, and it has two “O’s” which was not required but graphically fortuitous.   So congratulations to Bob, well done! Now you’re your own uncle.

However there were so many damn good entries, I have to also give props to my other favorites, in no particular order:

• A Monad of Weltschmerz
• A Pouch Full of Penis Envy
• A Schtickel of Schadenfruede
• A Nanoacre of Kleptomania
• A Tall Coffee of Regret
• A Bushel of Sepulchritude
• And a close runner up, An Orthodoron of Triskaidekaphobia.  WILDbore, Had you said “A Baker’s Dozen…”, you’d have killed.

And Bob, please claim the free Rifftax of your choice by emailing our friend Erik, the Happy Warrior of Great Online Service. email address is ERIK AT RIFFTRAX DOT COM.  Tell him “Kevin says I won a Rifftrax.”

I’m preparing this weekend to see the latest Bond film, Quantum of Solace, at my local googleplex.*  And I’m a little concerned that I may not take away from it any measurable quantity of comfort which would aid me in a time of duress.  However, I’m certain that there are other Quantities of other Entities that I might bring home from the experience:

• A Modicum of Heartburn
•  A Shipping Container of Mirth
• A Portion of Befuddlement
• A Mote of Chagrin

Of course I need your help, and invite you to submit your own Measurable Amounts of Physical, Mental and/or Emotive States.  The most interesting Amount of Something will receive a free Rifftrax.

*I didn’t go during opening week because I never go to anything during opening week; I am not a performing monkey.

BEVERLY HILLS CHIHUAHUA:  No Paws (out of four)

Okay, let’s get this straight:  Chihuahuas are not dogs.  They’re long-legged mutant rats developed by Nazi scientists in the 1930s and smuggled into Mexico with the hopes of spreading Bubonic Plague across the North American continent.  This opinion has been widely held by most breeds and cross-breeds of dogs for decades.  So for us to tart up these plague-ridden voles in diamond collars and set them dancing is like having a chorus line of Khmer Rouge perform selections from “Gypsy” on rice paddies.

Just watch these little bastards as the movie unfolds.  They love being treated like royalty.  They make jokes about humping, scratching and excretion as if those were bad things.  And as if that’s not sinister enough, they amass in ordered groups to perform lock-step close-order drills that pass as “dance numbers.”  I felt my flesh crawl.

Oh and by the way, Chihuahuas don’t sound anything like Paul Rodriguez, Cheech Marin or any of the other fine Latino actors and comics who were duped into participating in this sham.  Chihuahuas sound like Hitler.  Every last one of them.  If I could work an MP3 player I’d show you.  Slow down their shrill incessant yips and you’ll hear the frothing demands for a new order.  But no, go on, keep spending your hard-earned money,  laughing at the little parade of rodent stormtroopers, spreading their message of hate and world dominance.  Don’t listen to me; what do I know? I’m just a friggin’ dog.

(The apparent anomaly occurring around Walk Hard is commonly explained by the Meadows Effect hypothesis, which argues that any movie featuring Tim Meadows will see a significant across-the-board downturn in quality and performance.)

However, recent developments in Rogenomic theory are predicting a gradual realignment and possible convergence of LRI’s which will have a powerful impact on the future of filmed entertainment. Take a look at this corollary to the Hornet Theorem:

Not to suggest that Seth Rogen will reverse in age or height; keep in mind that this progression moves in both directions. This is accepted to indicate that if conditions persist, one of several outcomes are possible: Seth Rogen will become Jonah Hill; Jonah Hill will become Seth Rogen; or the two will merge in a sort of Superseth Convergence, the outcome of which is wildly unstable and possibly dangerous. However, the supposition that existing conditions will persist is called into question by the following probability:

This of course follows the Sizemorean Curve and applies the Nolte Rule, both of which create unknowns in typical outcomes and increase the standard deviation.  Yet in fact, real-world proof, both of progression and probability, has been observed in the field:

This trend, while neither inevitable nor irreversable, tends to support the general principle that schlubs will always move toward a state of inertia. Next time we will discuss the declining influence of Sandlerian Rogenomics and the surprising accuracy of the Rule of Sequels.

Despite my mom’s Hot Dog picture getting destroyed in the voting by that happy-feeted sailor I still wore my Jar Jar Shirt downtown to our live show on Saturday. Throughout the whole experience, which was described by various friends of mine in attendance as a “laugh-o-rama”, “laughfest” and “this is what you do all day?”, I kept forgetting that I was wearing the hideous shirt.  Stepping out on the street, or into a nearby bar, or into the lobby to converse with our CEO who introduced me to his wife for the first time, quickly snapped me back to reality.  People stared.  You could see them mouth the unmistakable syllables “Jar Jar.”  A few clever people shouted “Hey, Jar Jar!”  They were, of course, mocking me, and I did not have a response readied.  It occurred to me early on that these people had no reason to believe that I wasn’t serious in my shirt wearing.  It was comic-con after all, and this guy was walking around town:

(picture stolen from here)

The best way to describe the experience would be with this classic Eddie Murphy SNL sketch, where he decides to go undercover as a white person.  All of a sudden he’s treated completely differently, and only he knows that nothing about him has actually changed.  Nothing this drastic occurred to me, of course, but even feeling the slightest bit scorned by the average comic con attendee was enough to open my eyes.  Have a watch below: