AMC Would Like To Address Last Thursday's Incident and Its Effect On Stubs Rewards Members

Hello. We at AMC pride ourselves on our impeccable customer service and our commitment to a clean, wonderful theatre experience. It therefore distresses us to find out what happened at the Elmwood AMC location last Thursday. We're still getting reports of sickness and trauma, but here's what we know so far:

• The meat was uncooked

• We're not sure how all that meat got into Theatre 5– perhaps through the fire exit

• Almost three rows of seats were drenched in the pig blood. Only the first row got the intestines.

• People who were almost trampled at the concession stand will not have to pay for their snacks.

• Dua Lipa and John Cena were only in the movie for about 15 minutes, which is a rip-off.

• To get blood out of your jeans, sponge the stain with hydrogen peroxide, or rub bar soap into the stain. Pour the hydrogen peroxide onto the sponge, not directly on the stain. Scrub the stained garment by hand in cold water.

• AMC Rewards Club Members do not have to pay for anything for a year because of this.

• No, that was not Nicole Kidman in the theatre. Just a woman who looked remarkably like her.

• Refunds will be posted back to everyone's credit cards on Monday.

EADJ Program Note

 The new masthead above was supplied by the wife of JOEL HIMSELF, Jamie Gu, who is learning calligraphy. Thanks Jamie, and great job!

Some Upcoming Info Wars Conspiracies For Your Weak Brain

It's the beginning of the week, and yet the Info Wars staff are already working on next week's ultraconservative horseshit for Alex Jones to push out of his reddening basketball head. Here are some of the stories they're working on:

• Democrats invented death.

• Every time you watch a Proactive infomercial, George Soros gets another teenage sex slave delivered to his all-chocolate water slide/sex dungeon.

• The third Sam Raimi "Spider-Man" movie was made terrible on purpose so that audiences would hate anything that came in third. This eventually saved the nation from a third Obama term.

• Those claw machines you see in arcades actually contain miniaturized immigrants hiding inside the stuffed animals, and every time you win one, you've let another terrorist across the border.

• Conservative talk show hosts with basketball heads sitting on fat necks shouldn't wear ties or tight collars– it makes you look like a fucking water tower or lollipop.

• Atheists everywhere are already planning this year's War on Christmas, poisoning Christmas tree farm crops and intercepting all Elf On A Shelf correspondence to Santa. BE VIGILANT, CHRISTIANS!

Once Again... LOBSTERFEST

Okay, so it's been almost FOUR YEARS since the last Lobsterfest entry, and it's been that long since I've been totally shitfaced, which is when conditions are best to write this type of entry. The other night, I went to a comedy show in the Upper East Side and had a series of beers, cocktails, and beers that could fill a vat. Here now are some of the Lobsterfest entries that I typed into my phone on the Lyft ride home:

• Lobsters are arachnids, which means they're not very far relatives from spiders. With this in mind, we're going to serve up a series of lobsters in a large, sticky web hung up on the far wall. Guests will be required to climb the web, capture one of the crawling live lobsters, then scuttle it back to their table to be boiled and eaten. Try that with a skirt on! That would be maybe one of the least plausible ways to enjoy lobster at Lobsterfest® at Red Lobster.

• I don't know if you know about these "hoverboards" that kids are riding these days. They're not really truly hoverboards but are these crappy motorized dealies on two wheels. Anyhoo, all our waiters will ride those back and forth from your table to the kitchen and back, serving you hot piping morsels of thawed and cooked lobster tail. Plus we'll make sure the hoverboards are colored orange or red, to go with the lobster theme, if they have those colors in stock. No, you can't ride the hoverboards- insurance reasons. Gee, that seems like another highly unlikely and unsatisfying way to enjoy lobster at Lobsterfest® at Red Lobster, doesn't it?

• "Lobsterfest" sounds a lot like "LobsterFIST," so let's do that: through pressure and heat, we mold gigantic boxing gloves from the finest slivers of lobster meat. When guests enter the restaurant, our servers will knock them the FUCK OUT with a sucker punch the likes of which your uncle has never seen since his days in the Navy. Look sharp, hungry fuckers! That seems like a doable but highly violent way to enjoy lobster at Lobsterfest® at Red Lobster, don't it?

• Paper dolls. Maybe paper dolls of the customers, wearing little paper lobster bibs. Maybe it's EDIBLE PAPER, and we can have guests eat tiny versions of themselves eating lobster. Maybe this way we can actually leave lobster meat out to the equation entirely and save a cuckload of money! HOLY ASS, that's a pretty shrewd way to enjoy lobster at Lobsterfest® at Red Lobster!

• We let loose a very angry donkey in the restaurant. A donkey whose only way to calm down is to be fed lobster meat. With it kicking children and taking bites out of booth cushions, our servers will plead with customers to feed their lobster meat to calm the donkey down. Our guests will be forced to part with their dinners and will need to order their whole meals AGAIN! $$$$ And when their second dinner finally arrives, we release TWO MORE DONKEYS! It's moneymaking genius! Somehow through all this could be a way to enjoy lobster at Lobsterfest® at Red Lobster.

Special Guest Entry

Editor's Note: Beth Stone wanted to write an EADJ entry and EADJ pretty much blew off the suggestion until she actually sent in a fully-written bit. And she kept hounding us until we agreed to run it, even though we only pretended that we thought it was funny. So here it is. "Enjoy."


"Lost: A Horomonal Perspective"

The reasons for Lost's gravitational pull on viewers have been eagerly debated in the blogosphere. Perhaps it's unraveling the puzzles of how the characters get on, then off, then back on the island. Perhaps it's reveling in the rich basckstories. Perhaps it's rooting for love to prevail, with Des and Penny, Kate and Jack (and Sawyer and Juliet), Jin and Sun. I offer a theory that suggests that Lost is perhaps not all that different from, say, One Tree Hill. In two words: eye candy.


The producers have recognized the need to fulfill the TV watching desires of teenage girls (and ahem, mid-20s women) by feeding us with tantalizing moments of horomonal chocolate. With Sawyer, we eagerly anticipate his next half naked moment, though we also consider writing a kind but forceful letter to the producers with an Ab Master enclosed, suggesting Sawyer work a little harder on his pooch before the next shirtless scene. With Des, we close our eyes to hear the soothing words of "brutha" and "eyeeeeland" in his silky native tongue, and we contemplated licking the screen when he visited Oxford in his sexy scarf and aviators. With Daniel, we dream of a crossover episode with Beauty and Geek, giving him the makeover he so desperately needs to match his outer beauty with his emo-hotness. And the bear cage scene... that's soft core porn done right.


So the next time you watch Lost, let your mind wander, your eyes widen, your tongue hang out ever so slightly, and think about the gift of constant man sweat, bearded scruffiness, and emotional nakedness that JJ Abrams brought to the world. It'll hurt your brain a lot less than trying to figure out what the hell the show is really about.

Thank you.

Beth

SHORTER FATTER VERSION- BLACK & WHITE UPDATE

(The ongoing saga of the elusive Shorter Fatter Version of Scott Peterson continues. This entry is by guest writer Joe Nudelman (don't laugh), who graciously provided us with his take on the recent dearth of SFVOSP sightings. This entry is in black and white to hearken back to the romantic days of film noir.)

The shorter and fatter version of our beloved (term used loosely) Scott Peterson has proven to be quite elusive, and therefore much more cunning than might have otherwise been assumed. He has been spotted, both rarely and briefly, in the lobby in the general vicinity of the elevators. One can only assume due to the subjects’ stout stature that he frequents such fine eating establishments as Sbarro and Dunkin’ Donuts. Both businesses are within short range of the elevators, and could prove to be prime locales to camp in hopes of catching a glimpse of the ‘Shorter & Fatter Scott Peterson’.

It is my personal theory that the Shorter & Fatter Scott Peterson (above) has proven quite difficult to spot for several reasons. If you take note to this side-by-side comparison between the ‘human’ Scott Peterson and the ever elusive Shorter & Stouter Scott Peterson (below), you will note the bulbous belly area, accompanied by his short stature, likely due to a stunted and primitive physical development, create a much more animalistic appearance than that of Scott Peterson.

Therefore, it is my conclusion that this ‘man’ is not a man at all. But in fact, that which we’ve all come to know as the 'Shorter & Fatter Scott Peterson' is more of a sub-human primitive creature. He is likely more of a distant relative of the fantastical Sasquatch, known to many as ‘Big Foot’. I would, however, be more inclined to infer that this sub-humanoid creature is more, in essence, a ‘Little Foot’. I say that not simply because the film The Land Before Time is great and should be referenced more often; but as a result of the Shorter & Fatter Scott Peterson’s lack of height. Seeing as this is a creature of the wild that we are dealing with here, and what with winter and her blisteringly cruel elements in full effect; in all likelihood, the beast is hibernating. He is simply waiting for Spring to have sprung before emerging from the cave that is his garden apartment, and attempting to function in our scary go-go world. – Joe Nudelman

Weekend update: Feeding frenzy--the dick that wasn’t there.

(As part of EADJ Guest Writer Week, today's entry has been submitted by Andrew Gall– for real this time)

This Sunday, per usual, Joel’s dick-eating knew no bounds. It started out innocently enough, with Joel gobbling a little Saturday morning meatstick in the shower, followed by a special late lunch smorgasbord of schlong at the Ivy, complete with a bevy of Cajun spices. Things took a turn for the worse, however, when Joel stepped out of his house for dinner. With seven dicks already under his ever-expanding belt, it seems as if Joel, in his haste to munch member, mistook a nearby street side sculpture of John Wayne as another cock to crunch. Chipping three of his front molars, Joel was rushed to Richard Haber, DDS, a top Santa Monica-area cosmetic dentist, to make things right again. Joel was then given a grape popsicle and sent home in one piece. Crisis averted.

(pictured above: Vince Soliven attempts to become less brown, fails.)