Posts tagged ‘polls’

May 20, 2009

Bob is Very, VERY Excited

Bonjour, my brilliant little banana cakes! Qu’est-ce qui se passe?

Y’know, I got no idea what that even means, but Outlaw’s decided she wants to learn French ta be all sophisticated and impress WB and whatever, ’cause last week they were at the mall pickin’ out boots an’ stuff and she swears he was eyein’ some haughty French chick’s holsters in Victoria’s Secret. Me, I’d be less amazed by him eyein’ one a’those A&F models they got wanderin’ around shirtless sometimes, but nobody asks me. Whatever the real story is, it’s been nothin’ but French on tape in the office sound system for the last three days, an’ even Bob’s gotten into the spirit. Yesterday he baked up some Battle Baguettes – they’re hard as a rock, but they make great stealth blackjacks. I gave one a try when Tasky came t’visit, and BOY, was he surprised.

As it so happens, I got a little down time right now (yeah, I know you thought you saw me down on the street th’other week, but y’know, who’s ta say I didn’t tell some other schmuck to go pretend t’be me fer awhile? Tasky was just whinin’ about how he needed a job), so I took a poll as t’what I oughta be doin’ just now. And the whole office said, “Get off yer lazy ass and answer some questions.” Well, ‘cept Tasky. He just told me ta go away before he stalked outta the joint. Sourpatch. We really gotta get him a girlfriend or somethin’. I wonder who we could hook ol’ skull-face up with…

Anyways, by popular consensus, I’ma gonna answer up a few questions now, an’ then I got a coupla announcements ta make.

Let’s start with this one…

amejisuto asks:

Dear Deadpool,

What are your top five favorite horror movies? You know, the ones that scared the bejeebus out of even you?

Happy Haunting!

Well first I gotta say, sorry it took me until now to answer this question from OCTOBER. The months, they just kinda slip by when you’re busy fighting zombies an’ tryin’ ta out-think Norman “Brush Waves” Osborn an’ stuff. So, y’know, happy totally belated Halloween and many happy cavities. Now, then, lessee – favorite horror movies? Well,there’s a lotta fun blood an’guts movies out there, an’ it’s real hard ta pick just five. So instead I’m gonna go with the top five movies I’d show to torture someone I’d just tied up with the horror of how BAD they are. ‘Cause there are some movies out there that are so bad that the fact they exist just plain scares the bejeebus outta me.

The first contestant fer the prize of horrible moviemaking is…

Kate & Leopold!

Yeah, the idea that this movie exists pretty much scares me every time I think on it. I mean, ok, say what you will about the new Wolverine movie, but at least it didn’t require Hugh Jackman to utter a line like this:

Are you suggesting, madam, that there exists a law compelling a gentleman to lay hold of canine bowel movements?

with a straight face. OR Liev Schreiber to go on fer ten minutes about dogs an’ rainbows an’ cracks in chairs until we were all bored stupid. (Betchy’all had forgotten Jackman an’ Schreiber starred in a movie t’gether before Wolverine. I WISH I COULD FERGET.)

An’ then there’s the fact that a movie containing a line like this:

Behold, rising before you, the greatest erection on the continent… the greatest erection of the age… the greatest erection on the planet!

somehow still failed ta be either funny or interestin’ fer more than three seconds at a time.

So, yeah – the knowledge that some yutz out there thought it would be a good idea to actually make this movie AND managed ta get it done totally horrifies me. As did Hugh’s crotchtacular pants.

Not ta mention that’s 118 minutes of my life I will. Never. Get. Back. Not even with a healing factor.

An’ ya know, while we’re on the subject a’scarily craptastic romance movies, can we talk about Tribute? I mean, kudos to Ms. Roberts fer gettin’ one a’her stories on the tiny screen, an’ I know sometimes Hallmark’s hard up fer things ta air, but COME ON. That movie was so bad, I actually stopped watchin’ it in favor a’shovelin’ off the couch (no small task, I c’n tell ya!). The “I sleep in my boxers” scene? The sledgehammer photoshoot? CAN WE GET A RESHOOT, HERE? Pref’rably one that doesn’t contain this?? (Except that the parts where people were tryin’ ta kill her were kinda fun.)

Ya know what scares me the most about this movie, though? That anyone thought it had the right t’be on the same channel as MY BELOVED BEA. HALLMARK, YOU ARE ON MY NAUGHTY LIST.

So enough with tha romance movies, ’cause ya know, I usually don’t even watch romance (that’s Tasky!). Next up on the list has gotta be Nick of Time. You wanna talk awful cinema? This is the vid ta pop in the ol’ machine. Here we got 90 minutes of Johnny Depp (completely amazin’ actor!) runnin’ around tryin’ ta be a hero, and it’s the most boring thing I ever seen. An’ that includes the time some mobster mook buried me up ta th’neck in cement fer a week an’ all I had ta look at was a dead beetle decayin’. (Word ta the Wise: Don’t piss off the Maggia. They get their feelins hurt, they’re worse than Christian Bale when you ruin his scene (an’ they don’t even have the panache ta tell you you’re *&@$! DONE, PROFESSIONALLY before they stick yer ass in the wet concrete. Low-class schmucks.)) Th’best part a’this whole movie was the scene where the senator or whatever’s about ta get shot and she does this panicked double-take tryin’ ta find out where the shooter is. MAN, me an’Weas actually fell off the couch laughin’ at that scene. I kinda don’t think that was the goal a’the producers, though.

What’r we up to now, #4? OK, #4: Wild Wild West. It’s a movie about the old West. With a giant freakin’ mechanical spider runnin’ around. WHUT? I honestly forget what the hell else happens, except fer the part where Will Smith rapped in a movie he was in, AGAIN. (I was amazed he didn’t bust out with some lyrics durin’ I, Robot, actually. I was kinda expectin’ some:

Yo this is a story, all about how,
my life got flipped, turned upside-down.
The dude who gave me a mechanical arm,
jumped out the window an’ bought the farm!
The robot I hated turned out ta be nice,
but the rest’a them tried ta get me iced!”

Fer real.) I mean, don’ get me wrong – Will Smith’ll always be awesome. But yeah, this movie totally lowered his cred fer awhile.

OK, now someone out there’s gonna yell at me fer this last one, I got a feelin’, but whatever – I tell it like it is, an’ you got a problem with that, well, I’m always up fer throwin’ down. BRING IT. So here’s movie pick #5: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. (Yeah, I wish it was BURIED on The Far Side of the World.) I know some schmoes out there love this flick, but fer real? Here’s what I c’n remember after the 3.72 days I spent watchin’ it:

Ship, ship, ship, CANNONBALL, water, ship, water, CANNONFIRE, blood, water, RANDOM SPLINTERING WOOD, water, ship, slippery decks, CLAUSTROPHOBIC HAMMOCKS, blood, VIOLINS, water, water, really quiet dialogue, HOYAY, water, ship, ISLANDS, ship, water, TOTALLY BLATANT HOYAY, water, ship, water, FIN (VIOLINS). An’ the whole thing was all dark an’ blue an’ depressing. SNORE.

So there ya go, li’l Ame. Five movies ta stay away from unless ya love torturin’ yerself.

And on we go!

Ooh, my favorite German charmant has written me again!

addygryff writes:

Hi there.

That’s some awesome advice, thanks! ;D
You know, I’ll totally consider getting into the [merc] business, is it possible to work past time as well? It might be just the thing to get some extra cash while I catch up on my studies…
If it doesn’t work out.. what else could I do? Any ideas?

Ya know, I got all sorts a’ideas as ta what people c’n do in their spare time ta make some cold hard cash. I recommend a job where, if ya tell people what you do, they look at you funny an’ then run away real quick. ‘Cause that kinda thing makes me laugh.

Ideal job ta try fer this? Chicken sexer. No, it ain’t what you think it is. An’ it’s not that, neither. Although I’d totally go for it if this sentence meant what any normal person would think it means: Mohamad “does” about 700 chicks a day, or three chicks every two minutes. MAN. Even MY healin’ factor would be workin’ overtime with that many women.

OK, so that’s all the questions I got time for today, but like I said, I got a coupla announcements ta make, an’ here they are:

1) Even though I KNOW all my loyal fans are payin’ close, CLOSE attention ta everything on my journal, including my links list, I figured I oughta mention my two svelte, smooth, spectacular affiliates, as featured on the sidebar, ’cause I don’t think I did that here yet. So, yeah: if you want to keep up on all the Deadpool news that’s fit ta print (an’ even I can’t hardly keep up with it these days. I’m everywhere!) the absolute best place ta do that is The Deadpool Bugle. That’s right, true believers! I HAVE MY VERY OWN NEWSPAPER. Take THAT, J. Jonah Jameson. An’ if you wanna check out some YouTube videos by a big fan of yours truly, go on an’ give Deadpool and Friends a try. Don’t miss this dude’s thoughts on my new movie, or his poll on which of my sweet-ass costumes was the best ever. (Quick answer: ALL OF ‘EM.) Go on! Click the links! You know you want to.

2) Hey, you guys remember way back in the day when I did a poll an’ asked if you wanted to see any other Agency members answerin’ questions here? (Of course you don’t. That was an ice age ago!) Well it’s finally THAT TIME. That’s right. By popular consensus, I will be allowing my pet pal BOB, AGENT OF HYDRA Hail HYDRA! ta answer a few of yer questions.

Here’s how it’s gonna work: Got a question fer Bob? Great! Post it in the comments ta this entry. Then, I’m gonna let Bob pick his FIVE favorites an’ answer them in the next entry. An’ hey! If he doesn’t screw it up too bad, I may even do this again. (Don’t worry. I’ll answer more a’yer questions first!) I think Tasky’s next in the polls, an’ even though he swears up and down he doesn’t wanna “waste time with your stupid imaginary friends” I know he’s totally itchin’ fer a chance ta say hi ta you all. (We *really* need ta get him a girl or somethin’. He’s so mopey.)

Warning: Bob has informed me that if you ask a numbered question, he will NOT answer it. Apparently, numbered questions frighten Bob. He claims Alison used to number all her complaints whenever they had fights er whatever. So, yeah: no numbers for Bob!! He’s allergic!

Until next time, my chill chimichangas, keep ’em oiled an’ loaded!

July 17, 2008

Teeny Tasky on a Twinkie, It’s Late!

Jumpin’ Jack on a beanstalk, my magnificent little matzos! It’s been so busy around here I haven’t had a minute of me-time, but I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ to tell you the news, and I just can’t wait any more!

So remember how we got hired by Iron Man a few days ago to go “liberate” the forfeit Captain America lost to Iron Man at poker? Well I thought fer sure it was gonna be his shield – I mean, everyone loves that thing, right? Who wouldn’t want to have Cap’s shield? But I was so far wrong on this one. It’s not the shield we gotta get – it’s the teeny wings! THE TEENY WINGS. You know what I’m talking about, right? The teeny, useless little wings Cap sports on his mask like weird little antennae? Oh, man, when I read the fax from Iron Man, I couldn’t get off the floor for about an hour, I was laughing so hard. Sandi was havin’ a hard time, too. We can’t even look at each other right now, ‘cause every time we do, one of us says, ‘Teeny wings!’ and off we go again.

Anyway, that Iron Man is one twisted *&%@&!^#4$#%! You gotta admire a man who would go after Cap’s teeny wings. I wonder what Iron Man’s forfeit woulda been.

Since this it CAPTAIN AMERICA we’re talkin’ about, and the teeny wings aren’t as easy to nab as the shield (I mean, he throws that shield around all the time, but I’ve never seen him throw the teeny wings), we decided to call in Tasky, too. Well, that and Sandi’s a little worried ‘cause he tried to drink the oven cleaner yesterday after he ran out of booze. Little skelly-dude is a mess. So she thinks maybe this’ll get ‘im back to normal. Well, normal for him, anyway. Even if it works I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell the difference.

Speakin’ a’folks at the Agency, Agent X has finally gotten his Bloat down to “normal” levels. We put ‘im on a No Twinkie diet yesterday to try to help him even more, but so far, even with the electrodes we hooked up as a deterrent to Snacking, the score’s at Twinkies, 82; Agent X, 0. I dunno if we’re ever gonna get him the way he used to be again. Which is good for me, ‘cause then I can keep gettin’ all the work!

…Oh, and I almost forgot. Weasel said don’t tell, but he’s got a little crush on one a’you readers. Chyah, like he really thought I wouldn’t tell.

Weasel also had a kinda fun idea, though. He thought maybe, y’know, now and then, one of the other Agency mooks should answer some questions. Apparently all the famous people have “guest bloggers,” he says. I think it’s just ‘cause he’s getting bored with his Wii and wants to interact with possibly hot babes over the wires, but hey, I’m willing to give it a try. Sandi showed me how to do this nifty “poll” thing, so I’m gonna try it out:

And now, while Orca X is polishin’ up the guns and polishin’ off the puddin’, I’ll answer some questions:

First up, daughterofisis asks:

Good day, Sr. ‘Pool,

1. Were you born snarky, or did you have to work at it? Or, to put in another way…have you always been an asshole, darling?
2. Have you ever worn women’s underwear, and if so, what kind and do you have any pictures?
3. What is your favourite vivverid?
4. Should my girlfriend pierce her tongue?
5. In the interest of irritating you and repeating questions, how’s that cock taste? And did you know someone made two Cable/Deadpool fanmixes? Heh.

Yours truly,

P.S. I’m German, incidentally. Hopefully that’ll make you less inclined to shank me.

Oh, and happy birthday and suchlike. Actually, another question’s occurred to me: what flavour of cake do you enjoy? An excellent tool in personality assessment, is that.

Oh, numbered questions, my heart sings for you!! Whee!

    1. Well, kid, I gotta tell ya, I came outta my mother’s belly crackin’ wise, and I ain’t never stopped yet. Except when the writers shove me in those lame alternate worlds where I’m all boring and look even scarier than I do here. Man, I HATE THAT. But really, I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t me, so clearly I musta been me from Day One. But I don’t like t’think of myself as an asshole – if I had to pick a body part, I’d say I’m more of a dick. A private dick. A–oh, never mind.

    2. How come on Marvel Girl it’s a uniform, and on me, it’s underwear, that’s what I wanna know? I mean, hey, if I came out wearing the one-eyed angst-cushion’s stupid visor people’d just say, “Oh, look at ‘Pool. He borrowed Cyclops’ visor ‘cause he wanted to look like a tool, too!” But when it’s yellow panties, everybody gets all excited. I just don’t get it! As for pictures, well I tried to pose (those feebs got a whole wall with shots of themselves in uniform, and I figured they’d want me too, since I’m the coolest mutant of them all) but everyone seemed to be outta film. Schmoes.

    3. Is that like a Pokemon? Charmander’s THE BOMB.

    4. If you’re inta that freaky $&^!, then go for it! I tried to get a piercing once, but the damn hole kept healing up! Mutant DNA, I tell ya. It ruins all your fun.

    5. Well like I said, the chicken stew was fantastic, but we haven’t killed the cock yet. I think Bob’s kinda starting to think of it as his little pet. I can’t wait to see what happens when I wring its neck. And…uh…fanmixes? Is that like a mixer that can fan you at the same time? Hey, if it means my mask is on more merch, I’m cool with it.

As for the cake question, well I’m pretty partial to Bob’s non-lethal lemon cake, but I gotta say I like me some red velvet cake, too. Too bad Bob refuses to make it with black icing.

Whew! That was a lot of answerin’, right there. My typin’ finger might be just about worn out now. No, no, wait…ah, healing factor. Feelin’ good, feelin’ ready. On to the next letter:

chrryblssmninja wants to know:

if you could be in any classic black-and-white movie, what would it be? Doesn’t even have to be in English.

Oh, I love the easy ones: Citizen Kane, baby. That CFK was one crazy dude, and I dig that. ‘Course, if I was in the movie, it wouldn’ta been called Citizen Kane anymore, it woulda been something like, Deadpool Kicks Ass, so maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t in it – I wouldn’t want to upstage some poor actor who can’t even afford color film.

OK, one more, and then we gotta go do some more Strategic Planning around here, ‘cause Iron Man said we’re supposed to try not to hurt Cap too much when we go for the TEENY WINGS.

glitterandlube says:

Fabian did list you and Cable as one of the romances he has written.

Then some asshat claimed Nate didn’t love you back.

1) What the hell is that about? Nate was the one who used the word divorce, and was practically writing you love notes, am I right?

2) How can I make my father stop stalking me? Do you have any advice?

3) How hot are you going to be kicking Skrull butt on a scale of 1-15? 27? 29? 150?

Ah, the numbered questions, like candy to my soul!

Fabian can call it whatever he wants, but I never starred in no romance novel. But to answer your questions:

    1) Well, you know how it is, some asshats are still stuck in Big Guns ‘90s, and can’t stand the idea that Cable is really a woobie schmoop. But, y’know, if they can’t wrap their heads around that one, I don’t know why they even bought the issues. I mean, here’s a guy who practically sheds a tear of w00b if he can’t save a little girl from a toothache. He’s a schmoop with a capital S. As for how the big glowy-eyed Schmoop feels about me, well, I can’t help it if everyone loves the ‘Pool-man. And I do mean everyone. I tried to let ‘im down easy over the fact that I just ain’t interested – y’know, shooting at him, trying to arrest his a$$, blowing him up with a grenade – but he just won’t give it up. Whaddaya gonna do?

    2) As my good friend Bob would say, “TAKE. HIM. OUT. Hail HYDRA!” I mean, sure, he’s your dad, but really, what’s that mean? He’s got some of the same DNA as you? Well I got some of the same DNA as Cable, and like I said, I got no problem shooting him inna face. Just DO IT.*

…Well, unless by “stalking me” you mean he asks you where you been all day when you been out on the corner with the girls smokin’ and drinkin’ and flashin’ some leg or whatever. In that case, I think he might be justified. Even if you’re fifty. That’s just something dads are allowed to do. Forever.

    3) Like the Black Box once said, I’m off the CHARTS, baby. Those Skrulls won’t know what hit ‘em. Unless Danny-boy wusses out on the writing, but you can’t blame me if that happens.

Oh, looks like the big meetin’ is about to start, so I gotta go. Wish me luck on the mission, and until next time, keep ‘em jacked and packed!

* Our lawyer (Outlaw, via mail-away law school degree) has informed me that encouraging non-super-powered beings to violence and murder is Probably Not a Good Idea, so I have to put in this little disclaimer that says, “Don’t really shoot him.” But, y’know, I don’t mean it.