Adding to the already unsettling criticisms that have been leveled against Invisible Children and the wildfire like success of their Stop Kony 2012 videos, the man behind those videos, Jason Russell, just got naked in the middle of downtown San Diego and starting jerking off and fucking with cars and smacking the pavement and stuff. I thought this was supposed to make us like him more, but I guess people are mad and stuff? Go figure.

Anyway, this whole thing seemed a little fishy from the get go. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind seeing Kony get his head squished like a grape, but something about a charity that gets so big so quick always gives me (and many others) pause, especially when said charities have been accused of shady dealings in the past. But at least we all know Jason Russel is a super normal, super “with it” guy. Maybe it’s just a new type of yoga?

Apparently in between Seasons 1 and 2, the inimitable Dr. Steve Brule has made the heady purchase of “five of broats” all for himself. Way to go Steve! In honor of that, the first episode of Season 2, which premieres this Sunday, will be entirely dedicated to those floating things that live down at the marina (pronounce it like “marinara” please). But remember: before you watch it you gotta stuff your belly with seafood, but never pay that much paper monies for it.

Just grab some rotten crabs that may or may not actually be shrimp (okay, they’re definitely shrimp. Shrim? #shrim) from the dumpster out back. I’m so happy Steve Brule is coming back. Check It Out! is a much better spinoff than it has any right to be, and as much as I loved Billion Dollar Movie, I was pretty disappointed that John C. Reilly didn’t cameo as his puffy haired doctor character. I mean, Taquito was funny but… he’s no Steve Brule.

Say hello to the biggest and best new movie studio on the block, Cal-Gold Pictures, located conveniently smack between two dentists in a North Hollywood Strip Mall. Get your choppers fixed and make a movie while you’re at it. Nah I’m just kidding, this isn’t real. It’s Bob Odenkirk‘s brand new Adult Swim show entitled Let’s Do This, and you can watch the first episode above.

In it, Odenkirk’s failed producer (a weird, sad, deluded Jon Peters or Robert Evans). From his strip mall location he makes art films like “Däs Hole” or sorcery movies to be used as propaganda by African warlords to convince their people magic is possible, so as to help him blame rigged elections on the occult. Other potential titles: Tic-Tac-Toe: The Movie! or how about Ex-Terminator, the story of a Terminator who decides all he wants to do is kill bugs. This sorta reminds me of Bowfinger a little bit. Any excuse to get Bob Odenkirk on TV.

Ah the wonders of local government. Though it just got posted last week, this video actually may be sort of old (is he referring to the WTO protests?) but it doesn’t matter because it is amazing in every way. Kudos to the person who dug up this total and utter gem of a guy going off an an incredibly literate and lyrical rant about his arrest for saying “fuck” in front of an old lady.

The things he says in this approach Al Swearengen levels of creative profanity. The whole thing is directed at Seattle politician Mark Sidran, who if this video is to be believed, is some sort of lumbering pus beast who sacrifices children to satan and probably has sex with toads and slime filled holes in the ground. I hope one day to say one thing as well as this guy says all the things. Kudos, angry citizen.

You watch the Oscars last night? Yeah me too. They were bad. Everyone agrees. So we can move on. You know what else is bad? Jimmy Kimmel. At least I thought so. Maybe it’s just because he’s always annoying the shit out of me in those Taxi TV segments. But last night, after the Oscars, he actually put together a funny little parody of the Hollywood system. Why, I’d even go as far as to say that this video is primed to go viral! Please… help me.

Anyway, this extended fake trailer for Movie: The Movie definitely has its moment, and the amount of stars that Kimmel recruited starts out funny, then gets not funny, then by the time Gabourey Sidibe shows up as Black Hitler riding a meteor over a Steven Tyler song I was back on board thinking it was funny again. Also Gary Oldman getting diagnosed as a centaur by Jeff “Chef” Goldblum. And Walter White selling wieners. I’ll take it!

Wanderlust is David Wain‘s best work since Wet Hot American Summer a decade ago. Wain will never top that brilliant, harebrained camp comedy, but what makes Wanderlust a success is a lot of the same elements that make Wet Hot so damn perfect. Wain has again sketched out a group of absurd characters and puts them through a gauntlet of ridiculous situations, but like in Wet Hot, Wain fleshes these characters out into real humans so they don’t just feel like running gags.

The unjustly handsome and hilarious Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston star as a couple of New Yorkers who don’t think too hard about buying an expensive “micro-loft” in a fancy-pants part of Manhattan. When their financial life crumbles, they’re forced to pack up and move to Atlanta, where Rudd’s brother Rick has a job set-up for him. Rick’s played with effortless prickishness by Ken Marino, who I can never get enough of. After Rick’s McMansion way of life becomes too much for Rudd and Aniston, they ditch out and head to the Elysium Bed & Breakfast that they stayed at the night before.

The Elysium is really a hippie commune inhabited by the well-honed cast of The State and other fantastic comedic actors. The commune is run by Seth, a hairy Renaissance Man played by Justin Theroux. My absolute favorite member of The State, Joe Lo Truglio, plays a nudist-wine maker who also happens to be working on an series of political thriller novels. I’m not sure if they used a prosthetic cock for his frontal scenes, but if they didn’t, Lo Truglio’s packing some real heat.

Also inhabiting the commune is Kerri Kenney as a burn-out who resembles every art teacher I had before college, Malin Ackerman’s horny flower-child, Kathryn Hahn’s tense, loud-mouthed biotch, Jordan Peele’s (of Comedy Central’s Key & Peele) space cadet titty enthusiast, Lauren Ambrose’s pregnant Almond, and Alan Alda’s flashbacking founder of the commune. Each and every character thankfully gets their turn to shine – something that often leads to incredible pay-offs later on. Even the Stella crew of Wain, Michael Showalter, and Michael Ian Black get a nice bit.

All we can ask of Jennifer Aniston is that she not suck. In Wanderlust, she’s used just as much as she needs to be, because let’s face it, Paul Rudd is running this show. It’s his spotlight and he fucking shines – contorting that handsome mug of his with hilarious results. I don’t know why more guys don’t man-crush on Rudd as hard as they do on Gosling. One scene in particular, in which Rudd is psyching himself up in front of a mirror, is one of the funniest scenes in recent years. I don’t know when I last laughed that hard for that long in a theater.

After Rudd and Aniston settle down in the commune, the plot sort of teeter-totters into different realms: greedy industrialists, sexual jealousy, McMansion spuriousness vs. commune life, etc. Wain never seems to settle on what he point he wants to focus on, so no argument either way is really presented. After all the hilarious, ridiculous moments, the ending feels like a cop out. I wonder if this was Wain’s original ending or if he had a much more absurd one in mind he was forced to cut.

All in all Wanderlust is a hysterical, humanized romp examining the extremes of free-loving hippies and McMansion homogeneity. Do not miss it if you love The State and Wet Hot, or Paul Rudd will pop a piece of his dick off inside you.

I am continually impressed by the ever lengthening leash that K-Swiss gives Danny McBride (and, presumably, the rest of the Eastbound & Down creative team) on their advertising. Since becoming the MFCEO sometime last year, Kenny Powers has appeared in several national ad campaigns, despite being an incredibly R-rated figure, and maintains a healthy NSFW line of online ads. This newest one for K-Swiss Blades might be the funniest and most explicit one yet.

It contains Kenny dressed up like Steve Jobs, berating a giant dancing shoe, talking about huge-ass titties, engaging in a completely faked conversation with Bruce Lee about murder, having sex with aliens and, most wonderfully, starring in his own hyperviolent cartoon done by none other than the Superjail! team. Amazing! Maybe I should get me a pair of these Blades…

Hey, this is Elbows TV. Well, this is still the Bloglin, but above is Elbows TV. This is the first episode, featuring Nasty Nigel from Children Of The Night. A few days ago Nigel came to me seeking advice on what to get his girlfriend for Valentine’s Day.

Being a good friend, I decided we would go ask a bunch of people we didn’t know and shop around Victoria’s Secret. That’s how it happened. Elbows TV. Check it out. It’s janky.

Meet Max Landis. He currently has the number one movie in America. Writer of found footage superhero flick Chronicle (which eked past Harry Potter’s new Hammer Film to take the weekend box office) Landis has just landed himself on the young Hollywood A-List in one fell swoop. He’s already sold an original franchise to Disney, and rumor has it that his directing partner, Josh Trank, is in line to take over the as-yet mishandled Fantastic Four franchise. Lucky bastards.

Anyway, Max Landis is also the son of John Landis, director of American Werewolf In London, Blues Brothers, and Animal House. Which I guess explains how he got all these cool people to show up in his new monologue/short film about DC’s misguided 1992 mega-event Death Of Superman. Not only is it funny just to hear the whole debacle rehashed, but it is nice to see that a fellow comic nerd who really appears to know what he’s talking about is getting jobs making comic book movies. As it should be.

Hey buddy. It’s been awhile. No, no; don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s fault, really. Maybe it was sort of your fault. But don’t worry, it’s time again for another of Elbows’ Weekly Debriefs. Up top is a video of Champis, the hearding rabbit. Let’s get into it.

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Everybody Hates Ricky

The big news on the political front this week was that Mitt Romney took home the Nevada caucuses. The not big news was that Rick Santorum came in last.

I’ll tell you, this guy is a superb campaigner. At a stop in Florida, a gay audience member posed the question as to why homosexuals don’t have equal marriage rights. Santorum went ahead and informed everybody that same sex relationships don’t “benefit society.” To which everyone responded that Santorum doesn’t benefit society.

He went on to support Susuan G. Komen’s decision to cut funding to Planned Parenthood, saying, “I don’t believe breast cancer research is advanced by funding an organization that does abortions where you’ve seen ties to cancer.” To which everyone again chimed in to inform him that there is absolutely no link between cancer and abortions.

Regarding Santorum’s comments, Newt Gingrich said, “Hey. All I know is that Ricky’s got a spot on my moon base.”

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Heart Attacks

Paula Dean was made CEO of Jack In The Box this week. There was no official word, of course, other than the debut of Jack’s new Bacon Shake, a bacon flavored shake. This one’s got “Paula Dean” smeared all over it.

One Jack In The Box customer, who after he finished hurling his Bacon Shake at the concrete and spitting out what was his first sip of the drink, described the drink as “aggressively” bad. Sounds good.

Unfortunately, there isn’t any actual bacon in the Bacon Shake. It’s flavored with syrup. Bacon syrup. That sounds like a great product in itself. Technically the drink is vegetarian, a fact which will likely alienate many bacon enthusiasts.

Honestly, I’ve had bacon ice cream before and it’s great. And despite this being just a cup filled with Paula Dean’s bacon-y bath water in a cup, give it a chance. It’s probably great.

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There. So we’re back. It’s nice, isn’t it? Tune in next week when we speak to the architect behind Gingrich’s moon base, and learn about Emeril Lagasse’s new crawfish-flavored sports drink. I’m Elbows, you’re not. Yogurt.