Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: okay, FINE, it's "The Hills" season 4!
Name: "The Hills" season 4
DOB: August 18, 2008
Occupation: making vacuous stupidity hot with all the kids
Hometown: West Hollywood, California
Current residence: sad but true, my TV (but only during Olympics commercials, I swear!)
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I need to stop fighting it. I need to just suck it up and accept the fact that I watch "The Hills" to the extent that it merits a tag on my website, I have a photo album on my Facebook page entitled "Whitney and Audrina," and I have openly discussed the fact that I think Justin "Bobby" Brescia is hot despite the fact that he's an indigent philandering hairdresser. Besides, I'm outed. Not only have I admitted to watching "The Hills" here, my friend JerseyGirl sent an update to the Smith Alumnae Quarterly advising all our fellow Smithies that watching said shitshow is our primary activity next to "Beverly Hills, 90210" parties. I'm so unfortunately afflicted with this "Hills" addiction that I actually have pathetic text exchanges such as this with my girlfriends:
JerseyGirl: Hills season premiere on at ten!Razzy: Why does it have to be during olympics?JerseyGirl: Dewd u must turn it on. It is so dumb its awesomeRazzy: I'm watchn some right now. LC is soooo dumb. And she looks 45!JerseyGirl: So dumb. Justin bobby is SO HOTRazzy: I wld hit that so hard for real.
Wait! That's not even the ONLY text conversation I had about this trash last night! There's more!
CorporateCard: Steamy steamy justin bobby. Boo lo! 1st commercial break was almost 10 min! superbowl for teens!Razzy: Truly! I gotta watch the rerun. I'm olympics crazy.
Never mind my feeble protests about watching the Olympics. At every commercial and/or pointless Bob Costas monologue, I flipped over to MTV to drink in the knuckle-dragging antics of Lauren "LC" Conrad, Audrina Patridge, Whitney Post, LC's bitchy childhood friend Lo, and LC's archnemesis and the McCain supporter I wish didn't exist, Heidi Montag. This season, LC goes on a date with a guy who's main distinguishing feature is that he drinks beer (which, as indicated by her eye rolls, LC clearly thinks is VERY bourgeoisie), Whitney continues to apply her slow mental faculties to challenging "stylist" jobs (ie: folding jeans) at the People's Revolution, Heidi's sister moves into her and Spencer's apartment, and Lo and Audrina exchange a lot of cunty mean-mugs.
I honestly have no idea why I watch this crap, much less LIKE watching it. Typical dialogue on "The Hills" involves one character asking, "So, like, what are you, you know, like, doing tonight?" as she either folds a pair of jeans, pokes bemusedly with her index fingers at her shiny MacBook, or pretends to eat a grapefruit. The respondent will then answer, "So, like, you know...yeah." Another common story is that one character will go to a club, run into another character she hates, and they will exchange bitchy glares and/or bitch incomprehensibly at each other in the ladies room or the parking lot. Does any of it make sense? No more than Brody Jenner's star turn on "The Hills" resulting in his getting his own spin-off reality competition entitled (not joking) "Bromance," in which he auditions a new best friend to replace his now "dude-vorced" ex-buddy Spencer Pratt. I guess Brody felt that fucking LC (and making frequent appearances on his Reggie (Get in My) Bush-polluting stepsister Kim Kardashian's reality show) was a better strategy than Spencer's ambitious ploy to achieve media notoriety making Nicole Richie eat. Again, I have no idea why I watch this or LIKE watching it. But I do.
That said, I totally watched most of last night's episode, if only to watch Justin Bobby's hot ass show up at Audrina's party. Unfortunately, Justin Bobby seems to have truly mended his ways, and I might lose interest if he doesn't start belching, stealing Brody Jenner's drinks, and making out with other girls in front of Audrina soon. Frankly, Lo is starting to become my favorite character, if only because she looked out at Audrina's guests, sighed, and said, "Well, I guess we'll just have to try to enjoy what we've got here" while Audrina blinked vacantly and suffered anguish trying to rack her weak mental capabilities for a comeback that never came. If Lo's going to bring bitchery like that every episode, I'm signing up for her team. I may as well just give in. "The Hills" fucking rules!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, media whores, sluts, The Hills
Monday, August 18, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Bela Karolyi
Name: Béla Károlyi
DOB: September 13, 1942
Occupation: retired Olympic gymsnatchtits coach, NBC analyst,
Hometown: Cluj-Napoca, Romania
Current residence: Houston, Texas
Bela Karolyi on vault judging: 'a total reep off...my heart is breeking for alicia sacaramonee. How you can do this? I am getting eemotional.'LL Cool Jew must already have boarded her flight, because she didn't get back to me. However, JerseyGirl texted me out of nowhere instead:
JerseyGirl: Omg behind the scenes of the hills, justin bobby is smokinWhile an intoxicated catfight between Lauren Conrad and Heidi Montag–ESPECIALLY if the dirty and despicable yet hate-fuckably hot Justin Bobby is somehow involved–sounds compelling, I kept watching the Olympics. I care more about listening to Bela Karolyi excoriate the pro-China, age-faking, score-fixing factions in Olympic gymsnatchtits judging than whether or not Heidi and Spencer leaked LC's interminably boring sex tape because LC was generally a bitch of a roommate and fake best friend. Bela Karolyi is indeed awesome, and he's the hotness, and he's basically every other conjurable superlative.
Razzy: Lol. M watchn olympics but will switch over at commercial
JerseyGirl: Lc and heidi come face to face in season 4 in a drunken fight. It looks amazing. Btdubs bela karolyi–daily dude i wanna hit him
Razzy: zomg bela is awesome
JerseyGirl: Hes the hotness
I don't even care if Bela Karolyi built champion gymnasts in the past with a deft combination of starvation, self-esteem deconstruction, and verbal abuse. I love Bela. I would consider it an honor, a privilege, and a pleasure to be berated by him. I'm sad that gymsnatchtit competition is almost over, because I will miss watching him roar nonsensically in either exuberance or rage at Bob Costas about Team USA versus Team China. Bela doesn't give a fuck, and thinks nothing of call China "arrogant cheaters" or calling the Chinese and Russian judges "inexcusable" and "abominable" on international TV from Beijing, probably while the Olympics thought police hover around dying to pull the plug. In fact, he peppers excited shouts of "GOOD GIRL!" praising the gymnasts of Team USA with his rants about the Olympic powers that be, all the while waving his hands and shaking his fists like he's making a propaganda speech on behalf of his own local politburo in the People's Republic of Bela Karolyi Awesomeness.
In case you have been living under a rock or you're one of those losers who doesn't watch TV and thus haven't yet witnessed Bela in action, feast your eyes. He's like a Transylvanian bear on crack with a giant, industrial broom mustache, and he rules harder than Nicolae Ceaucescu back in the days before Bela defected to the good old U.S. of A.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, JerseyGirl, LL Cool Jew, Olympics, sportsmen, The Hills
Friday, August 15, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Nastia Liukin
DOB: October 30, 1989
Occupation: Olympic women's all-around gold medalist
Hometown: Plano, Texas via Moscow, Russia
Current residence: the gold medal podium, Beijing, China
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: This bitch needs no introduction. My current barely legal crush Nastia took home Olympic gold last night to my utter delight. I was worried for a minute that the 12-year-old Chinese bitch was going to overtake Nastia thanks to some bullshit scoring decisions but finally those pinko cheaters got their comeuppance. I knew those ugly pink barrettes all of Team China seems to favor with their Maoist red uniforms would eventually be their undoing. They need to take some style tips from Nastia and realize that the pink-red combo is only acceptable at your medal ceremony.
I love Nastia because not only does she have the best name in the world, she really is the American dream. Like many who have fled from behind the Iron Curtain, her family settled in Texas, became ex-Stalinist white trash, and perpetuated their gymsnatchtits dynasty. Bred from two world class Soviet gymnasts, she has spent her entire life training to rule everyone's faces off at these Olympics. Her family's story is a true immigrant success story and I'm pretty sure that if she were alive to see it, Emma Lazarus would be shouting "U! S! A! U! S! A!" about the Liukins.
I also applaud Nastia for somehow managing to avoid getting the frightening prepubescent body that many gymnasts in the Bela Karolyi school of competitive eating disorders, and actually has some T&A. Okay, she has A cups, but in her profession that's the equivalent of a Dolly Parton-sized rack. Alright, and admittedly her face is a little wonky too, but she's still my favorite hot piece of trash on Team USA. Even if, as my friend Morrissey'sHair noted yesterday, Alicia Sacramone "has that nasty, New England slut look about her, like she just rolled out of Danvers, Mass looking for a quick bang" and scores points with me by punching out Brown frat boys, I still have to declare my allegiance to Nastia. She might seem like a stuck-up bitch sometimes (Bob Costas refers to this as her "elegance"), but I know how that quiet type does it. Those quiet ones who act like they shit L'Occitane face lotion are usually the dirtiest pervs on the planet, and I'm willing to bet Nastia is no exception. For all those people who are like, "You're gross, Razzy, she's a child!" Well, she's 18, straight-up legal in every state, and I'm ONLY eleven years her senior. I've certainly banged people a decade or more my senior, and look where it's gotten me! I could teach Nastia a thing or two about living up to all the jokes pertaining to her first name, as well as show her a new meaning for her Hollywood debut, Jeff Bridges's magnum opus Stick It!
I'm so excited about Nastia's gold medal that I don't even feel cranky enough to douchebag anybody today. YAY for Nastia! USA! U! S! A! U! S! A!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot chicks, Olympics, sportsmen, United States of Asskickery
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Misty May-Treanor
DOB: July 30, 1977
Occupation: U.S. Olympic beach volleyball player
Hometown: Costa Mesa, California
Current residence: Chaoyang Park Beach Volleyball Grounds, Beijing, China
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I have never cared much for volleyball, indoor or outdoor. As much as I should be able to get behind any sport that requires either kneepads or bikinis, I usually find it pretty boring. This may be due to my childhood years of sucking harder than a homeless woman in Tacoma with no meth at CYO volleyball due to my mediocre talent at the sport (and calling my abilities "mediocre" is being generous). However, when Olympics time rolls around, I get into beach volleyball. There is one reason for my interest, and her name is Misty May-Treanor.
Not only is this chick totally awesome at beach volleyball (I mean, I guess...she and her partner Kerri Walsh always win and are defending their gold medal), but she also is totally hot. Her prowess at the sport is impressive, but more impressive is what she did the other day when President Bush showed up to watch team May-Treanor/Walsh gear up to kick some foreigner ass. After showing her skills off for Dubya, she decided to keep with beach volleyball tradition and offer her ass for him to tap. "Mr. President...want to?" she asked.
In yet another of the many discredits to President Bush's name, he declined and just ran his hand across her lower back. Nonetheless, I have to give props to Misty for trying. Not everyone can claim that they tried to get the (inept) leader of the free world to spank them. She can rest assured that in four years, President McCain will probably be glad to give that hard posterior a firm smack. Even though Bush isn't being a very good American, thank God Misty May-Treanor is making up for it by standing up for one of our most hallowed traditions: slapping a hot chick's fine ass. She is a true patriot and an exemplary representative of the most freedom-loving nation in all the world. I think she's also going to win a gold medal or something, too. Go Misty May-Treanor! USA! U! S! A! U! S! A!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot chicks, Olympics, sportsmen, United States of Asskickery
Monday, August 11, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Michael Phelps
DOB: June 30, 1985
Occupation: king of the swimming pool
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland
Current residence: Olympic Village, Beijing, China
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I normally find Michael Phelps annoying. He seems like the kind of guy who gives people a lot of "I'm Michael Phelps, fellate me" attitude when the camera's off. Sure, he has the reputation of being a really nice guy, but I'm not buying it. People said that about Apolo Anton Ohno, too, and I can tell that guy is likewise a grade A prick to be around. It's always the supposedly really nice people who are actually cocks in their personal lives. I also hate that Michael Phelps looks like the bastard child that Archie Manning abandoned at birth.
So, for the next two weeks I'm changing my usual "sha, Michael Phelps" attitude to a "GO KICK SOME FOREIGN ASS, MICHAEL PHELPS!" attitude. USA! U! S! A!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Olympics, sportsmen, United States of Asskickery
Friday, August 08, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: the Olympics
DOB: August 8, 2008
Occupation: the most-watched trash on my TV for two weeks
Hometown: Beijing, China
Current residence: Beijing, China and NBC
Why I Want to Hit the Olympics: I love the Olympics. I'm always down for a dick-swinging competition, especially one upon which rides the bragging rights of nations. I'm also always down for any excuse to shout "USA! U! S! A!" and trash other countries. I'm particularly excited for this Olympics, because we finally have some international frienemies to hate on the way we used to do with the Soviets. I'm going to break out the Toby Keith and get my America on. Besides, if I really want to stick it to those pinko Chinese, I'm not going to get all self-righteous, turn off the TV, bitch about human rights, and break out my made in China Free Tibet flag. No, like any true American patriot, I'm going to order a pizza, crack a cold beer, and watch our women's gymnastics team smote their commie ruin upon the uneven bars, and Michael Phelps leer dully down like a long-lost Manning brother at their swimmers from the top of the gold medal podium. You know why we won the Cold War? It had less to do with a four decade-long nuclear pissing contest than our routine beating down the Eastern Bloc like O.J. Simpson with a mouthy blonde girlfriend. Freedom makes for better athletes, and I have no doubt now that our unfettered internet access, legalized big Caesar-sized dogs, slightly less polluted cities, lack of prisoner organ harvesting, and ubiquitous corporate fast food franchises will result in a veritable Fort Knox of Olympic gold for team U! S! A!
And to celebrate our impending dominance, I'm skipping the artfaggy Opening Ceremonies to drink some Miller Lite with lesbians, criticize the government, and generally participate in some shameless pro-American jingoism. USA! U! S! A!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Olympics, United States of Asskickery
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: all my Facebook friends coming out of the woodwork
DOB: various
Occupation: congratulating me
Hometown: various
Current residence: the internets
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I spent most of yesterday recovering from my hangover being totally amused on account of the emails I started receiving when "Razzy is now listed as engaged" hit everyone's Facebook news feeds. Several people realized it was a joke and sent me sarcastic congratulations. One of my virology friends even suggested some science-related bands that could play my lesbian wedding. Several others, however, did not and were utterly shocked. A guy who just joined my fantasy football league–who I have never even met but is friends with HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair and has undoubtedly heard about how I'm competing with him for title of their sluttiest friend–emailed me about our football league and added, "Are you engaged? WTF! That's not how players roll." To mitigate his disapproval, I agreed to marry him on Facebook when I break my engagement with Twathopper next week. Even my high school boyfriend frantically Facebook messaged me under the subject heading "you have got to be shitting!," saying "You're getting married? Congratulations!"
I get the feeling that once I start getting constantly in fake relationships, engagements, and marriages on Facebook, the not-really-close friends I have on Facebook are going to catch on that I'm just fucking around with Facebook's obnoxious relationship status news feed updates. However, in the meantime, I am really enjoying the response. First, even people who don't know me well are like, "IS THE WORLD ENDING? YOU are getting married?" As much as I hate to tarnish my reputation as a shameless skank, the truth is that I sometimes date people and just don't mention it here on this blog. I'm not planning on getting married anytime soon if ever, but in real life I'm not 100% trampy slut all the time, and I don't think it's THAT shocking that one day I might settle down, at least enough to fuck one person at a time. I'm a long way from that, but nonetheless it amuses me that my skankery has permeated even the most far-flung corners of my Facebook friend collections.
Anway, if you are my Facebook friend, brace yourself for lots of news feed action about an upcoming string of faux engagements and marriages. And if you refuse to believe that someone could be so cynical as to fake-engage someone on Facebook, Twathopper and I are registering at Home Depot so we might get some free swag out of it. We've got our eyes on a set of hers-and-hers toolbelts and measuring tapes, so if you're pulling for us, that would make a great fake Facebook engagement gift.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Facebook, intentional buffoonery
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: my Facebook relationship status
DOB: today
Occupation: fuckery for the sake of it
Hometown: my imagination
Current residence: my Facebook page
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: The other night, JerseyGirl finally adjusted her Facebook status to reflect the fact that she broke up with her boyfriend Kodiak. Although it was a mutual breakup, it was still emotionally difficult to get used to the fact that they were no longer a couple and change their profiles accordingly. When JerseyGirl did, it showed up in everybody's news feed, and consequently she started getting a shitload of e-mails demanding to know the details of their separation.
"Dude, it felt like breaking up all over again!" JerseyGirl complained. This ushered in a tirade about Facebook keeping all your friends updated as to your every move. I concluded that I was going to go home and just remove a description of my relationship status altogether, so that in the event it does change, I don't have people pestering me about it. Sure enough, Facebook alerted my friends that I'm "no longer listed as single." I thus came home last night to the following e-mail from my friend Wmania:
From: Wmania (wmania@worlds3rdlargestprfirm.com)To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)Subject: dewdAre you no longer single???Who is the new guy or gal???????????
I laughed out loud. Facebook is really on point when it comes to helping friends stalk one another. Therefore, I decided to change my Facebook status to "engaged" and listed Twathopper as my fiancée. I think from now on I'm going to change my Facebook relationship status weekly just to bring the drama. Next week I'm going to break my engagement to Twathopper and marry JerseyGirl instead. I'm sure she'll get some interesting e-mails when "JerseyGirl and Razzy are now married" shows up in her friends' news feeds so soon after "JerseyGirl and Kodiak are no longer in a relationship" dropped.
And yeah, I know this is a pretty lame "Daily Dude," but last night was bar trivia night (where my team totally took first place), and Becky #1 from "Roseanne" was there. I therefore drank a lot and debated whether or not I should go talk to her (of course I didn't, although we did make one of the guys at our table give her a chair and she thanked us).
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Facebook, intentional buffoonery
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: the Hip-Hop Magician
DOB: ???
Occupation: who the celebrities call for their kids' birthday parties
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Current residence: Brooklyn, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Because who doesn't want a "hip-hop magician" that all the celebrities hire for their kids' birthday parties? I certainly do, even though I'm not sure what "celebrities" these are. Somehow I can't really see Donald Trump, Kimora Lee Simmons, or Madonna being swayed by his ads (which are usually on during "I Love Money" and other similar trashtastic Vh1 reality shows), but I'd settle for hiring any "hip-hop" celebrity magician/clown who brings a magic show, balloon animals, games, a popcorn maker, a cotton candy machine, and a bouncy castle to all of his gigs. That's assuredly much better than what magicians usually bring, which if Criss Angel is any indication, includes trucker hats, body jewelry from Hot Topic, a soundtrack composed solely of Korn, Linkin Park, and Drowning Pool songs, and an insufferable sense of condescending superiority that is supposed to pass as mysterious intrigue. Frankly, I'm tempted to call 718-892-0760 just to see if I can afford his rates for my thesis defense party next year. That would be a welcome departure from the usual cheap champagne and Saigon Grill takeout selection that typically mark a grad student's passage from academic serfdom to a real job. I dare you not to want Uncle Majic to demonstrate his arts at your next special occasion after watching his video:
AD WIZARDS: Hip Hop Magician
As it turns out, I was wrong about the celebrities he's been hired by. I went to hiphopmagician.com and it turns out Kimora Lee Simmons DID book him for her kids' birthday party! He's also performed for the likes of Alan Houston, Wendy Williams, and Treach, as well as warmed up crowds for Mike Epps, Chris Rock, and Dave Chappelle. He claims that "the only thing that separates me from David Blaine is a few thousand dollars." I would argue that he's also separated from David Blaine by accomplishing a feat of illusion that no other magician has yet done: a mere glance at him doesn't make me hate him and wish for his violent death, as is the case with Mr. Blaine and his contemporaries in faux magical bullshit. In fact, even more miraculous and amazing is the fact that I actually LIKE the hip-hop magician and experience feelings of wanting him to perform for me rather than explode in a freak balloon animal accident. I'm not a celebrity, and I don't have kids, but nonetheless I want to call him for my birthday party anyway.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hilarious shit, I LOVE IT, magick is bullshit, ridiculous absurdity, TV
Monday, August 04, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Irukandji jellyfish
DOB: who knows when they evolved, but they were first documented in 1952
Occupation: stinging the fuck out of Australian tourists and inhibiting production of shitty romantic comedies
Hometown: the ocean off of Cairns, Queensland, Australia
Current residence: a special place in my heart
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I was just reading an article about how jellyfish swarms have been screwing with popular swimming beaches, and how this is a sign that the oceans are in distress. While I yawned at the article's implications that jellyfish are yet another harbinger of certain ecological doom (as are any biological anomalies in this age of Al Gore-facilitated Chicken Little paranoia), I did notice a mention of the "rare but deadly Irukandji jellyfish." I had never heard of this jellyfish before, and decided to investigate further.
Since phylum Cnidaria (and, for that matter, anything else big enough to be seen without the aid of an electron microscope) isn't within my realm of professional expertise as a virologist and I am unfamiliar with any scientific review journals addressing the topic of lethal jellyfish, I asked Wikipedia for the details. Although the article was short, it did tell me that Irukandji jellyfish are tiny, potently venomous, especially dangerous because they have stingers on their bell as well as their tentacles, cause a whole host of life-threatening symptoms, and I don't have to worry about them unless I go to Australia. What I was most interested in was the "Irukandji jellyfish in pop culture" section of the entry.
Specifically, I was interested in the following bullet point:
This jellyfish was the cause for the delay in filming for a Hollywood film, Fool's Gold, starring Kate Hudson. Filming was taking place in Queensland, Australia, when the jellyfish was spotted, and a marine biologist was called in to assist.
If only a marine biologist hadn't been handy. I dream of the day that Kate Hudson (and her co-star Matthew McConaughey) will cease and desist making movies that seem to be solely designed to piss me off. I haven't seen Fool's Gold, but I have written not one but TWO separate posts condemning this film anyway. Fool's Gold hits it out of the park in terms of things I will assuredly loathe. It contains bitchy, sex-starved prudish women, hippies, lame sex scenes between the aforementioned, absurdly historically inaccurate treasure hunts, marital bickering, and poorly written, timed, and executed jokes about all of the above. I don't need to see Fool's Gold to know that this film was a waste of everything: money, time, tasty craft services food that could be used to feed better actors in a better movie, viewer's patience and sanity, etc. I think that tonight I will dream pleasant dreams about Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey sinking into the Australian seas after being stung everywhere by small yet lethal Irukandji jellyfish.
I can only hope that, thanks to global warming and the general declining health of the oceans, that if Hollywood is arrogant enough to greenlight Fool's Gold 2, the proliferating Irukandji jellyfish makes them pay for their hubris.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, movies, sexy delicious animals
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
DOB: November 21, 2008
Occupation: ruling your face off
Hometown: London, England (oh, oops, it looks like some of this was filmed in Norway too)
Current residence: post-production
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I am completely and totally unashamed about the fact that I love Harry Potter in a serious way. When book 7 dropped, JerseyGirl, FalloniusMonk, and I went to the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble to pick up our pre-ordered copies of HP and the DH, and were so eager that we cut in front of not one but TWO groups of children so as not to delay our gratification. Yeah, I know it's kind of an asshole move to cut in front of kids, but their arguments are easily quelled by some grown-up bitchery and as far as I am concerned, it's just Darwinism in action. It's not my problem if those dumb ten-year-olds with fake glasses, drawn-on lightning bolt scars, and Warner Brothers' sanctioned Gryffindor robes can't adapt to the selection pressures of the Harry Potter book release line.
Sadly, since there aren't any more Harry Potter books coming out, I've got to get excited about the movies coming out. Luckily, there are three more to look forward to (HP and the DH has been split into two movies), so I have plenty of Harry Potter geekery to look forward to for the next few years. Last summer when HP and the OOTP came out, Rack, TheOldGuy, FalloniusMonk, and I ate some really awesome special brownies and saw it in 3-D IMAX, and it was truly amazing. I even went to see it again with JerseyGirl later, and I never go see movies twice in the theater. I didn't even see Lord of the Rings: Return of the King in the theater more than once, and that's my favorite movie ever (although in fairness, I didn't have a spare eight hours to kill after the first time I saw it to accommodate a repeat theater visit for LOTR: ROTK).
Anyway, to ensure my unbridled excitement over the next few months, the trailer for HP and the HBP has been released and I'm fucking thrilled. Okay, they don't show the part where Dumbledore's homo ass bites it courtesy of Severus Snape, but I guess that wouldn't make it much of a teaser trailer. And oops, did I say that? Yeah, Dumbledore totally gets avada kedavre-d by Snape at the end. Sorry to spoil it, but if you haven't read the book by now, that's what you get for slacking. Also, the chick in The Crying Game is really a dude, and Bruce Willis is dead the whole time in The Sixth Sense. If you can't get on this shit when it's hot, then get over it!
So back to Harry Potter...this movie looks like it's going to totally rock everyone's face off, as per usual. If only it had Daniel Radcliffe's barely legal weiner in it, it would be perfect. I guess I'll have to go see Equus for that and content myself with the fact that Harry Potter is awesome enough to accommodate the lack of teenage male nudity and the presence of a few despicable children in the audience with me.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, destroy all children, Harry Potter, I LOVE IT, movies
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: "Beverly Hills, 90210" season 5 DVDs!
DOB: July 29, 2008
Occupation: THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE HISTORY OF TELEVISION
Hometown: Beverly Hills, California
Current residence: en route to my lab from Barnes and Noble's warehouse
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Many great happenings occur during Bev Niner season 5, but quite possibly the pinnacle of a mountain of awesomeness is the arrival of one hot-ass bitch named VALERIE MALONE:
Valerie was the replacement for the tempestuous and bitchy cunt Brenda Walsh, who moved to attend theater school in London when Shannen Doherty was fired for being a bitchy cunt in real life to her castmates. Luckily, Valerie brought the drama to fill Brenda's void, and exponentially improved on it. Brenda was always busy throwing fits for her parents about her high-and-mighty yet inconsistent principles, whining about Dylan McKay, and doing dumb-ass shit like getting arrested for freeing the cats in Buzzkill Zuckerman's sudden infant death syndrome research lab. Unlike Brenda, who always had some extremely moral pretext for her bitchery, Valerie has no morals whatsoever. She shows up from her hometown of Buffalo acting like a total goody-two-shoes and by the end of the first episode, is smoking pot out of her window at the Walsh house and telling her friend back home, "God, this people are such a bunch of squares."
Valerie goes on to break Steve Sanders's heart, fuck Dylan cross-eyed at a pool hall without telling him she's the new Brenda, invite her friend to town who promptly steals Donna Martin's mother's jewelry, assist Dylan in conning the con artists who stole his millions to get the money back, attempt to extort a guy out of $100,000 by faking a pregnancy, starts the Peach Pit After Dark, fucks a heroin addict and then thinks she has AIDS, tells everyone at the West Beverly 5-year high school reunion that she "works with the poor," bones David Silver and then talks him out of suicide, has about ten million SUPER bitch-offs with Kelly Taylor, scams Donna's professional shopping clients, fucks Donna's abusive musician boyfriend Ray Pruit, gets accidentally date-raped by Noah Hunter after his brother slips a roofie into her merlot, accidentally gets Brandon arrested when she leaves a joint in her car by the registration, fucks her mother's fiancé the night before their wedding, and generally lies, cheats, steals, and manipulates her way into and out of every situation. Valerie is a straight up pot-smoking slut with no apparent conscience, at least not until later episodes when she reveals that she is so damaged because her father raped her repeatedly and she popped a cap in his ass, then passed it off as a suicide. In other words, she may be the most entertaining Bev Niner character ever to grace the greatest show on earth.
Anyway, I can hardly wait until my DVDs arrive and my girls and I can pull up a sixer of brew dogs and a large selection of pepperoni pizza at JerseyGirl or Twathopper's apartments for some quality Niner time. Thanks to my apartment's paper-thin walls, I've been hearing the theme for the new "90210" issuing from my apparently CW-loving neighbor's apartment for days, so I'm more than in the mood. SEASON FIVE rules so hard!
Labels: Bev Niner, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, I LOVE IT, sluts, TV
Monday, July 28, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Shigeo Tokuda
DOB: 1933?
Occupation: porn star
Hometown: Tokyo, Japan
Current residence: Tokyo, Japan
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Every time I watch something Japanese, I'm sort of mystified and confused by a lot of what goes on. Probably there's a lot lost in translation, but generally I find Japanese shit strange and befuddling to my American sensibilities. Take suicide, for example. Plenty of people commit suicide around the world, but the Japanese have the market cornered on bizarre movie suicides for no apparent reason. If you watch almost any Japanese movie, from Godzilla v. Mothra all the way to Battle Royale, people are killing themselves right and left just because. In Battle Royale, there is literally one couple who kills themselves because they won't be able to continue their junior high relationship together on account of everyone involved in the titular Battle Royale having to kill each other...and NOT because they've been fitted with an explosive collar around their necks and forced to murder their tween peers.
In some cases, this cultural misunderstanding works well. "MXC: Most Xtreme Challenge" is a fun way to pass time on Spike TV when nothing else is on, and I have adored the original Japanese "Iron Chef" since I first witnessed Chaiman Kaga presiding over the Abalone Battle in Kitchen Stadium years ago. I may have no idea what "skwe-san" means, but I know that if the commentators don't use it to discuss the delicate and impressive manner in which an Iron Chef or his challenger is making swallow's nest and eel ice cream, hell will break loose (actually, the offender would probably just commit suicide). The elements of Japanese culture I don't get often intrigue and amuse me, and many Americans have followed suit. We've thus developed inferior versions of these shows for ourselves, since we seem to share the Japanese people's taste for crazy game shows, campy cooking competitions, karaoke, and pale long-haired ghosts who crawl out of consumer electronics.
That incorporation of classically Japanese entertainment into American culture has also occurred in the world of pornography. My high school boyfriend would always say he was watching "anime," and I'd come over to find him watching some hentai shit where a large-eyed cartoon princess was being fucked in every orifice including ears and nostrils by some kind of grotesque robot praying mantis alien creature with twelve cocks and a giant set of mecha-crab claws. I'm sure that there are at least twenty million other high school boys sitting around whacking it to the same ridiculous cartoons. Although I find it pretty boring and somewhat gross, the sheer volume of various bukkake scenes on the internet indicate that this Japanese brand of porn has also made the leap into an international commodity. For a nation of people who supposedly are always too busy working to have sex, the Japanese love themselves some nasty porn to the point where they've invented new disgusting genres.
Upon learning of new developments in this arena, though, I pray that unlike bukkake and animated alien rape, the new cutting edge trend in Japanese porn will stay on its own side of the Pacific. Apparently the Japanese jerk-off consumers these days are all into GERIATRIC PORN. It's not that I have a problem with sex with older men. I've fucked my share of dudes in their mid-to-late thirties, and there have been more than a few guys in their forties or fifties I've fantasized about. In fact, I'd even consider fucking guys older than that (named John McCain). What I do not really want to do, however, is rub one off to guys who spent their youth trying to rout our forces on Guadalcanal and elsewhere in the Pacific theatre. Enter Shigeo Tokuda, the 74-year-old star of such films as Maniac Training of Lolitas, Grandparents Getting Down, and Forbidden Elderly Care. A recent article by TIME magazine describes Shigeo's niche as portraying "a tactful elderly gentlemen who instructs women of different ages in the erotic arts."
Just because I doubt I would appreciate his art, however, doesn't mean I can't show some love for Shigeo. The man is apparently a porn superstar in Japan, to the point where his very name has in itself become a brand. He keeps his real name a closely guarded secret, because in the TIME article he says his wife and daughter are unaware that he is the Peter North of Japanese pepaw porn. A slightly more recent piece by CNN suggests that his wife and daughter have found out and are supportive, but don't want to know the details. I suppose that when your elderly spouse and father is featured on over 350 porn box covers, at some point, you're bound to see one and call an emergency family meeting. I can understand why I probably wouldn't want to know the details of my dad's second career as a male retiree porn star, since I don't want to see clips of a film entitled Never Too Old to Bone regardless. However, just because I'm not interested in masturbating to his (gross) art doesn't mean I can't salute Shigeo Tokuda, who claims he's going to be in the business until he's 80 or older and attributes his "glowing complexion" to his love of his part-time job. Vince Voyeur and T.T. Boy wish they had that kind of staying power.
Just because I doubt I would appreciate his art, however, doesn't mean I can't show some love for Shigeo. The man is apparently a porn superstar in Japan, to the point where his very name has in itself become a brand. He keeps his real name a closely guarded secret, because in the TIME article he says his wife and daughter are unaware that he is the Peter North of Japanese pepaw porn. A slightly more recent piece by CNN suggests that his wife and daughter have found out and are supportive, but don't want to know the details. I suppose that when your elderly spouse and father is featured on over 350 porn box covers, at some point, you're bound to see one and call an emergency family meeting. I can understand why I probably wouldn't want to know the details of my dad's second career as a male retiree porn star, since I don't want to see clips of a film entitled Never Too Old to Bone regardless. However, just because I'm not interested in masturbating to his (gross) art doesn't mean I can't salute Shigeo Tokuda, who claims he's going to be in the business until he's 80 or older and attributes his "glowing complexion" to his love of his part-time job. Vince Voyeur and T.T. Boy wish they had that kind of staying power.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, gross, oh the horror, porn, pro-apocalyptic zeitgeist, sex
Friday, July 25, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Mrs. Officer
DOB: June 10, 2008
Occupation: making me laugh hysterically
Hometown: Hollygrove, New Orleans, Louisiana
Current residence: my iTunes
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Okay, so I'm hung over and can't really think of anything I am that excited about...except ONE thing: Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter! If you haven't illegally downloaded Tha Carter III yet, you are stupid, because it totally rules and has been on daily rotation on my iTunes. There is one song in particular that makes me seriously laugh out loud every time I hear it, a little tune known as "Mrs. Officer."
This song is a touching ode to the female police office who detains Weezy F. Baby and amazingly, doesn't arrest him. On the contrary, she has other things in mind. Specifically, according to Lil' Wayne, "all she want me to do is fuck the police." Now, while Tha Carter may describe himself as "the hottest hottest under the sun," I assume that refers to his flow and not his actual physical appearance. If I were a female member of New Orleans's finest, I'm not sure that I would be calling my sergeant and telling him I can't finish my shift because I was smitten with Lil' Wayne's seductive ways. I am, however, to let this slide, because "Mrs. Officer" is so awesome that I made it the ringer on my new teenager phone. And if you haven't been blessed with auditory exposure to this jam, consider this your lucky day:
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, I LOVE IT, Lil' Wayne, rap
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: teenager phones
DOB: 2008?
Occupation: texting like what
Hometown: probably some factory in China
Current residence: my hot little hands
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I've been in bad emotional shape the last few days, but nothing cheers a bitch up like getting a new toy, whether it be a pair of shoes, a Sharper Image "body massager" (and I think you can guess which part of my body I use those to massage), or some fancy electronic gadget. In this case, it's the latter. My old phone was a beat-up piece of shit that actually got a huge crack in it, so it was time to make like Beyonce and upgrade that trash. Apart from it's general state of mechanical failure, my biggest problem with my old phone was its lack of a keyboard led to it taking FOREVER to send text messages. I generally hate talking on the phone, so unless I'm trying to catch up with my family or friends sufficiently far away to not see in person, I always prefer to text. Needless to say, my old phone was failing miserably at enabling me to do this efficiently.
Therefore, when I went to re-up, I totally purchased this phone with a slide-out keyboard of the class LL Cool Jew refers to as "teenager phones." This refers to the fact that all the kids these days seem to have one of these things that they can text the pedophiles they meet on MySpace easily with, and everywhere you go you see them texting and IMing furiously on these contraptions. LL Cool Jew has a teenager phone herself, and has been encouraging me to get one ever since she acquired her EnV or whatever, so she was delighted when I informed her that my LG Rumor arrived. Her specific response was actually "YYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY! QWERTY MCQWERTERSON!"
I know it's pretty lame to Daily Dude my new cell phone, especially since it's not an iPhone or a BlackBerry or something super fancy that does everything save wipe my ass and walk my dogs. However, if you've been using something for the last few years that, in terms of technical evolution, is barely removed from an empty can tied to a piece of string, you would be elated about your teenager phone too. So text me, bitches!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, I LOVE IT, LL Cool Jew, nerd alert
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: nobody except maybe my mom (but not seriously, because...EW, it's my MOM!)
2008 has been a rough year for me. Some of it I've discussed here at length, like my legal drama. Some of it I have just alluded to, like my financial drama (okay, that's not so much "drama" as "stress induced by abject poverty"), my lab drama (nothing works), my health drama (quitting smoking), my mental health drama (chronic depression and the shrinks who fail to treat it), and my boy drama (a so-called "friend" telling me he could never date me because I'm a slut and a freak). However, all of it has been weighing heavily on me, and last night I approached what can best be described as a near-total nervous breakdown. Specifically, I was considering dropping out of school and running back to the P-N-Dub with my tail between my legs, and I spent three hours on the phone with my mom sobbing about it.
I very rarely open up like that and let it all out, especially to my mother. She gets really worried about me, and it pains me to cause her so much distress. Last night, for example, she was fretting over whether my current ill mood was her fault because she and my dad ran so hard with the "child prodigy" thing. When I was four, my precocious nature inspired my parents to take me to a psychologist, who tested my IQ and pronounced me an official genius. My mom told me that he said, "Your daughter is going to make a big mark on the world. There aren't very many people like her." As a result, my parents started me in school early, got me into piano lessons, bought me a computer so that I could write better, signed me up for the gifted program, and reminded me all the time how special and different I am. I excelled academically, but my lack of maturity and social ineptitude made it very difficult for me to find friends early in life. I always felt different. On one hand, I felt like I was better than everyone else. On the other, I felt helpless to fit in and feel accepted, because my insufferable egotism didn't exactly win me a lot of friends. Last night, my mom said that she worried that the reason I take on so much now and don't take good care of myself is because she and my father encouraged me to be The World's Greatest from the moment I left that psychologist's office with my genius card. I told her that I can't be The World's Greatest because that lofty title is held by one Robert Sylvester Kelly. She didn't get the joke. The truth is, I'm so obsessed with being good at everything and presenting an impervious, indefatigable, totally dominant face to the world that I fail to remember one very important thing: deep inside, I'm an extremely fragile, extremely sensitive, extremely vulnerable human being with flaws and limits, and my failure to recognize and respect that leads to my complete and total mental and physical exhaustion.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my mother talked me out of dropping out of grad school unless that was really what I wanted. As much as I loathe grad school, that is not what I want to do, because I have no respect for quitters, and because I really do want to get my Ph.ake doctorate, so sorry, Columbia...you're stuck with my batshit crazy ass for another year (or less, God willing). I would probably never forgive myself for quitting, and there's already quite a lot that I don't forgive myself for. My mom told me that she can't imagine what it's like to be me, and have expectations for myself that few people burden themselves with with a simultaneous inability to relax those expectations at all.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, the conversation (and some recent kind comments encouraging me to take care of myself and move on from my past issues) brought to my attention that even Razzyphiles don't expect me to be full of useless bullshit all the time, and most of you will give me a break for not feeling like writing anything funny, or being exhausted, or generally showing some human weakness once in a while. Therefore, I wanted to explain why, in spite of waking up early as usual to surf the internets for something I could get excited about, I couldn't really think of anything I wanted to hit. Thanks to my mom's understanding and support, I feel a lot better about everything and I plan to get back in a more regular, cheerful frame of mind by stomping ass at pub trivia tonight with some of my peeps, but for now I feel too mentally beat to even get excited about the new line of 90210 nail polishes that are coming out (and duh, Kelly Taylor's color–along with mine–is TOTALLY cocksucker red). Thanks for your understanding and putting up with this super Smith girl post...I'm now about to go tap my reserves and get about the business of being back tomorrow in full motherfucking effect.
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, excuses, for serious people, Razzification
Monday, July 21, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Nate Dogg
DOB: August 19, 1969
Occupation: down (but not out) hook singer
Hometown: Long Beach, California
Current residence: Pomona, California
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I spent all weekend sharing the extremely distressing news about Nate Dogg's criminal problems and recent stroke with my friends, who were just as upset to discover this as I was. Since I'm the closest thing to a doctor in our little circle, I had to field a lot of questions about his medical condition. Not surprisingly, the most pressing concern I addressed related to whether or not smoking weed every day as Nate Dogg admittedly does can predispose a gangsta for a cerebrovascular accident at such a young age. Unfortunately, I haven't been keeping up on the literature concerning the likelihood that weed by the barrel in one's G'd up apparel increases one's risk for a premature stroke. In fact, I don't even have to check out PubMed to know that such studies haven't even been done, much less published in a peer-reviewed journal.
On Saturday, I got up at the crack of dawn to hit the LIRR for a beach day with my girls Rack and FalloniusMonk. On the way, when I informed them of the latest in Nate Dogg news, they got over their initial shock and horror and advised me that Rack probably gets the prize for Nate Dogg-philia among our friends. Rack actually owns Nate Dogg's solo CD, which is a whole other level of adoration. I didn't even know Nate Dogg had a solo CD. In fact, back in college, one of my drug deal–I mean, BUSINESS associates, the Byrdman, was listening to my Chronic 2001 CD with me and I wondered why Nate Dogg didn't have a more productive solo career. "Think about it, Razzy," he said. "You really want to hear a whole album of 'smoke weed every day'?"
I thought about it, and realized that Nate Dogg is probably best when his talents are used judiciously in conjunction with some talented West Coast rapper. However, Rack came to a different conclusion, and thus FalloniusMonk purchased her a copy of Nate Dogg's 2001 solo effort Music and Me. Rack loves this CD so much that she still maintains the entire thing on her iPod. When our drunk asses were trying to stay awake after a long day swimming and swilling gin and tequila in 95-degree sunshine all day on the train ride back to Penn Station, she passed me an earphone and cranked the Nate D-O-double G. I was immediately snapped out of my alcoholic stupor and was soon singing loudly "your wife, my bitch, your love, my trick, her mouth, my dick, I fucked, that's it" to the frowning disapproval of the fat Greek woman next to me. Since her ample, cellulite-dimpled ass was spilling out of her stretch capris into my seat and thus offending me horribly, I figured my verbalizing profane Nate Dogg lyrics made us even in the affront department.
If only this had been available when I was in college; it would have been alongside "Ain't No Fun (If the Homies Can't Have None)" and "The Chronic Outro" (AKA "Bitches Ain't Shit but Hoes and Tricks") in my treasured collection of feminist-angering anthems to blast out my window for disrupting the frequent vagina-centric candlelight vigils occurring in the Smith College Quad. Man, I miss those days. There's nothing more satisfying than bumping some West Coast flava while simultaneously interrupting some dumb self-righteous, overprivileged twats at a $30K per annum liberal arts college while they're trying to whine at/lecture me about the women in Afghanistan or female genital mutilation or whatever other cause du jour.
Anyho, I stand corrected on Nate Dogg's skills as a solo artist, and Rack has promised to burn a copy of Music and Me for my auditory pleasure. I again salute Nate Dogg, and wish him a speedy resolution to both his legal and neurological woes. I can't do much to help him legally or medically (although I'm pleased that he has a sweet Cobra head pimp cane to assist him with ambulation until he's fully rehabilitated), but I can try to offer my moral support by spreading his gospel. Enjoy "Your Wife":
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, FalloniusMonk, hot dudes, Rack, rap
Friday, July 18, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: the Minnesota Vikings
DOB: September 27, 1960
Occupation: evil scheming against the Green Bay Packers
Hometown: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Current residence: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I was getting really sick of hearing about text messages Brett Favre was sending the Packers' general manager and his "itch" to play and his whining that he was pressured to retire. I'm sick of Brett Favre and I think he should spend his remaining years driving around on his John Deere in Mississippi and not bothering anybody rather than throwing interceptions and sending John Madden into paroxysms of sanguine man love. I really don't want to hear him bitching about how mean the Packers are for not releasing him and not guaranteeing him a starting position. However, I perked up when I read that Brett Favre may have illegally been chit-chatting about a possible contract with the Minnesota Vikings and the Packers are now PISSED.
Brett Favre is still technically on the Packers' roster, which means that he's not allowed to covertly talk about playing for the Vikes (or any other NFL team, for that matter) with members of their coaching staff. The Packers apparently believe that this was a clever ploy by the Vikings to cause chaos and drama among the Cheeseheads while they are trying to build a Favre-free offense around the unremarkable Aaron Rodgers, and they're grievance-filing mad about it. The NFL has launched an investigation into the tampering charges brought by the Packers. The Vikings aren't commenting, except to say that Tarvaris Jackson is still their starting quarterback and coach Brad Childress thinks the whole thing is a "soap opera."
If the Packers' charges are true, though, then I give the Vikings mad props for coming up with a scheme worthy of an Aaron Spelling drama to fuck with their NFC divisional rivals. Who knew that Brad Childress was an evil plotter as well as a freakish Major Dad doppelganger? I actually thought he was kind of dumb, since half the Vikings roster hates on him to the media whenever possible and he seems determined to underuse Adrian Peterson. I guess his failures to earn the respect of his players and consistently make successful offensive play calls are symptomatic of his devoting most of his time to execute sneaky cabals exploiting the Packers' Favre-related vulnerabilities. He should just move to Melrose Place and change his name to Amanda Woodward already. I have newfound respect for the Minnesota Vikings for their backroom Brett Favre-mediated trickery. Go Vikes!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, I LOVE IT, NFL football, sportsmen
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: David Silver
DOB: early 1975
Occupation: DJ, master freestyler, backup keyboardist for Babyface, inept nightclub owner, condom and deodorant jingle composer, recovering meth addict, hot nerdy Jew, hot piece!
Hometown: Beverly Hills, California
Current residence: my DVD shelf, Monday through Friday on SoapNet at 5-7 pm
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I'm generally taking this whole lawsuit business with a grain of salt and trying to have a sense of humor about it. However, it's kind of difficult not be preoccupied by it. This is the first time I've ever been sued, and it's like the first time I did my own taxes. Being on one side or another of a civil tort is a normal part of American life, but initially it can seem overwhelming and monumental. I don't want to bore you all with a bunch of "Daily Dude I Want to Hit: my attorney"-type posts, though, so I thought I would talk about something more fun...namely, the greatest show in the history of television: "BEVERLY HILLS, 90210"!
I noticed the other day that Megan Fox (that Angelina Jolie-wannabe chick from Transformers) dumped Brian Austin Green, prompting a lot of people to say things like "how did David Silver score such a hot piece?" My question is more along the lines of "how could Megan Fox pass on David Silver?" David Silver is H.O.T. For one thing, I heard a rumor that he's hung like a fucking woolly mammoth. For another, he executed some of the most riveting scenes in all of television as he transitioned from socially leprous nerd to straight-up player-ass pimp over the course of Bev Niner's ten seasons. Off the top of my head, I can think of ten bitches David Silver boned: Babyface's manager Ariel, Nikki the hippie music lover, that Chloe chick whose demo tape he produced, the inimitable Valerie Malone, Donna Martin (finally), nefarious ex-ice skater Gina Kincaid, closet lesbian Camille, crazy aspiring fame whore Sophie (formerly Sydney Andrews Mancini from "Melrose Place"), that South American chick who worked as a janitor at the Peach Pit After Dark (Claudia?), and that seventeen-year-old who seduced David and then almost busted him for statutory rape. David Silver was landing more tuna than fucking Star-Kist.
David Silver also had some of the best storylines on Bev Niner. First he became so cool that they had to kill of his nerdy friend Scott Scanlon, so as not to cockblock David's meteoric rise through the West Beverly High social scene. During his high school reign, he not only managed to overcome racial issues by rapping at the West Beverly-Shaw homecoming dance, he also rocked the halls via his amazing broadcasts on WBVH high school radio. He rode the wave of his musical notoriety all the way to getting crabs from Babyface's slutty manager Ariel in the back of a limo. Then he got into meth in college, leading to one of the most hilarious dramatic drug disposal/busts in the history of television, in which Dylan helps David instantly kick meth and then pour like 5 keys of it (along with approximately 10 pounds of random pills) down the beach apartment toilet right before a DEA team in full SWAT regalia busted in. He also proved a quick study in handling criminal crises, as he saved Donna from rapist Garrett Slant when he knew something was wrong because she called him "Dave." Later in college, he tried his hand at talent management, until he got too offended by the racist band he was managing telling him "you people sure know how to squeeze money out of a wallet...AH-JEW!" When this didn't work out, he gave nightclub management a shot, at least until he ran the Peach Pit After Dark into the ground and had to steal Donna's money to pay the rent. After living off the royalties from the one hit song he wrote for the shiteous emo rock band Jasper's Law and his condom and deodorant jingles, he secured a permanent position returning to his roots as a radio DJ. Unfortunately, he ended the series on a sour note when he married Donna in the most obnoxious, boring wedding in prime-time soap opera history, but overall, David Silver was a totally hot piece of ass and you wouldn't have to ask me twice to hit that. Besides, he's the offspring of one of the hottest supporting characters in all of television, Dr. Mel Silver, DDS, and it makes sense that David sprung from loins that spent 99% of their time banging 19-year-old dental hygienists and occasionally Jackie Taylor.
If you're rolling your eyes and thinking, "ENOUGH with the Bev Niner...David Silver is a suck-ass nerd who wore way too many Cross Colours shirts in 1993," then let me persuade you of his awesomeness with one of his shining moments. David Silver singlehandedly managed to create racial harmony when the black kids from Shaw High showed up at a West Beverly dance via line dance-inducing hip-hop in one of white rap's most glorious moments. Brace yourself, because you might literally be blown out of your chair by the stunning awesomeness of this moment. Take a deep breath and prepare to have your face rocked off, as I give you...SWITCH IT UP:
I jiggity jack jack jack to miggity mack, to switch it up, G! Swiggity switch it up!
Labels: Bev Niner, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, rap, TV
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