Monday, June 08, 2009
Who has the biggest chain I've seen thus far?
I'm friends with Faheem "T-Pain" Najm on Facebook, and he's probably one of my favorite Facebook friends. He updates his status all the time, and it's usually something hilarious. It's also nice to know that T-Pain can descend from the lofty peaks of the Tallahassee McMansion where he spends the days sipping Nuvo and Patron to dick around on Facebook when he's bored like the rest of us little people (ie: accompanying a link to the Adult Swim website with the commentary "full episode of aqua teen hunger force. fuck i am good.") Because of this I know all sorts of information about T-Pain, including that he named his most recent child Kaydnz Kodah (!) and he and his wife like to have orgies with strippers in Costa Rica. I'm not even kidding.
T-Pain also likes to post photos frequently, especially of the many custom products he commissions. Teddy Pinnedherassdown is a man of refined tastes, and he likes to bless the Facebook masses with visual evidence that he's a little more sophisticated than your average rappa ternt sanga. For example, this lovely and touching tribute to his late dear friend, the recently departed Roderick "Dolla" Burton II.
After all, anyone can send flowers or sympathy cards or make a charitable donation, but there's really not more of a sentimental memorial than airbrushing your one-hit wonder collaborator's image on the hood of your vintage Chevelle. Tallahassee Pain is nothing but class. He makes the Queen of England look like a stinking derelict begging for change on a freeway offramp in comparison.
Anyway, today I was pleased to see that T-Pain continues to set the standard for elegance with a recent piece of diamond jewelry he obviously made to dazzle the other social elites he clearly rubs elbows with on the regular. I knew something was going to be good when my news feed alerted me that T-Pain had prefaced a new photo on his wall with the declaration, "I told everybody I'm not playing no more anybody wanna try to out do me then we goin at it like next door neighbors. Believe dat." I believed dat, and immediately looked at the picture and was nearly blinded with the intensity of this ice. Seriously, get a sweater, because the man and his Louis Vuitton purses (see background in second picture) are more frozen than Antarctica:
Dayum, shawty snappin! All I want to know is whether or not this is causing any drama in T-Pain's relationship with pretend cocaine kingpin/former correctional officer William Leonard "Rick Ross" Roberts II, AKA the self-proclaimed biggest boss I've seen thus far. Previously, Rick Ross has prided himself on wearing the largest, most ridonkulous chains in the entire Sunshine State. Rick Ross is so serious about his extremely large jewelry that he was deeply insulted when one of his baby mamas and Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson accused him of renting his signature giant self-portrait yellow diamond pendant. However, his sometime collaborator, purported friend, and fellow Floridian T-Pain has clearly challenged him when making Facebook wall statements like "DUDES AND GIRLS I JUST WANNA GIVE A QUICK PREVIEW OF THE LAST CHAIN ULL EVER LIKE. IM SHUTTIN IT DOWN."
Them's fightin' words. I think the next logical course is for Rick Ross to pick up the "Big Ass Chain"-shaped gauntlet T-Pain has thrown and get something so large and absurd that he walks hunched over when he wears it. That would be quite the achievement, since Rick Ross is a pretty big fella with a great deal of heavy chain-rocking experience, and probably has the neck weightbearing capabilities of an Oregon Trail cart ox. Break out the candy-colored rocks and let's take this battle to the next level!
Labels: Facebook, hilarious shit, I LOVE IT, rap, ridiculous absurdity
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Razzy Hater Orientation
The last few days, it has become clear to me that there are some novice Razzy Haters about, leaving some mean you're-fat kind of comments. I figured that, rather than just serving up a tall, frosty glass of my own special recipe haterade, I'd turn the other cheek and respond with a helpful guide to properly hating on me. I do plenty of hating, so it's only fair that I reap my karmic reward. Besides, I'm pretty good at hating, so those looking to impale me on my own sword could probably benefit from my talents and experience in this area. This is perfect for the Razzy Hater who aspires to the legendary status of such haters as the anonymous guy who once wrote that I'm "always the cum dumpster, never the bride." Please read this before you start leaving scathing comments, so that you can scorn me with all the vitriol a fat, ugly, old, totally unlovable diseased whore like me deserves.
On my victory in the Google game:
Be All the Hater You Can Be
To hate on me effectively, you first must understand the history of the anti-Razzy movement and the nature of the haters that came before. I've had many over the past few years, and while generally their comments hew to the you are fat/ugly/old/unmarried/fair-skinned/unemployed/slutty/poor line, those truly dedicated to humiliating me off the internets have employed numerous strategies to get their points across. In case those of you who just started hating would like to use one of these as a template for your anti-Razzy activities, here's a list of great pioneers in Razzy Hating.
The Addicted-to-Hating-Me Hater: This is the hater who finds one article they dislike and proceeds to read my site rabidly every single day looking for new excuses to leave comments reminding me that I'm fat, ugly, old, skanky, and unworthy of marriage. One of the most infamous of these was a guy I like to call "Harvard Jarhead." This guy first made his appearance known when I was discussing a popular Jamaican dance from 2007 called the "Dutty Wine." This asshole promptly established that he went to Harvard, he's a Marine preparing to serve our country, I'm fat, ugly, and stupid, and any "illiterate, impoverished third-world islander" (along with everywhere in South America, Africa, and Asia) cannot possibly have a culture worth appreciating. Then he complained about affirmative action devaluing his Ivy League education and offered to "bag a Haji" for me on his next tour of duty. When not crafting racist rants, being insufferably in love with his own sense of intellectual superiority, and bragging about being some sort of real-life Jack Bauer singlehandedly safeguarding American security via his role in the Marines, he would comment at least twice a week insulting my intelligence and demanding that I stop "wasting (his) time" writing my blog (and read any given post from September 2006...you'll see what I'm talking about). Because somehow in writing my blog, he was as compelled to read it constantly as he was to defend the freedoms my "tubby" ass takes for granted by killing "terrorists" overseas. I continued to force him to spend hours reading my blog and telling me my many shortcomings until duty called and he was shipped abroad to engage once more in his favorite activity short of reminding everyone that he went to Harvard: KILLING THEM ILLITERATE, UNEDUMACATED A-RABS, A-COURSE!
The Renamer Hater: Also known as the "Princess" Hater, in honor of the most memorable of this class. Some Masshole read one of the many Patriots-related douchebaggings I composed during the 2007 NFL season, concluded that I'm wicked retahded, and decided to advise me to "grow up, Princess," because "no one likes a bitch." This fool then became a regular reader, primarily for the purpose of reiterating that I should "go find a new sport," as my Seahawks allegiance proved that I "know shit about football," all with a condescending "Princess" thrown in somewhere. He then branched out from simply ragging on me about my woeful ignorance regarding the NFL/not sharing his desire to give Bill Belichick a sloppy blow job to the old tried-and-true target: my physique. He stuck around for a few months to tell me that I look like Tori Spelling and that I should hire the orange ex-manager of the legendary Ms. Britney Spears to promote my blog, all embellished with a derivative "Princess." However, the hypothesis that he was just trying to be complimentary by suggesting that I am the heir to some undefined throne is also quite valid.
The You-Have-STDs-You-Slut Hater: I've had a couple people suggest that those lucky enough to sleep with me might catch a case of something besides feelings. One time I got sick and bitched about it, and some person decided my upper respiratory infection was the perfect excuse to spread a rumor that I actually was dying of AIDS. In fact, when my illness persisted the next day, the hater noted went from simply saying that I was obviously HIVed up to noting, "AZT: it's not just for orphans in Africa." Even when I wrote about getting a negative HIV test but having a hemorrhoid instead, this hater doggedly insisted on pursuing the "you have AIDS" hating route. Yes, I get it, I'm a big skanky ho and you wouldn't let my pestilent pussy anywhere near your gold-plated, germ-free cock. Now move on to telling me that I'm fat, ugly, or old!
The Scientifically Literate Hater: A specialized hater, this variety of anti-Razzy reader is someone employed in the field of science who, rather than commiserate over our shared miserable career experience, decides to bust on Columbia and/or my publication record. This is a pretty solid strategy, because not only is it a refreshing change from the usual insults to my physical appearance and/or intellect, I can't argue with opinions regarding Columbia's continued decline in prestige or academic quality or my publication record thus far. However, this should not be attempted by haters who are not fluent in biology, because I will own your bitch ass if you do. Trust. If you don't know how to use Pub-Med, I strongly advise picking a different strategy.
The Morally Superior Christian Hater: This is the hater who fronts like they are all into God and are coming from a position of moral superiority (doesn't swear, drink, have abortions, or watch porn), but really is just looking for an excuse to call me names. Someone named "love thy neighbor" expressed disapproval of the strong language I used while deconstructing Rita Cosby's humanity for ruining a "To Catch a Predator" afterparty: "You are a fine once to talk with your nice use of profanity. You are disgusting with your choice of words. Yuck!" Thank you for complimenting my nice fucking use of profanity. Though apparently it makes me unworthy to talk shit about Rita Cosby, I nonetheless strive to incorporate filthy gutter-mouthed trash talk seamlessly into my prose, and I'm glad my efforts are being acknowledged. There's a million more of these "you call yourself a Christian, yet you use extreme profanity and preach hate, you hypocritical slut!" on half the posts I've written about porn, so if you like reading self-righteous damnations, have at it.
The Bust a Hater Nut All Over Archive Pages Nobody Ever Reads Anymore Hater: Also known as the "Razzy Bailey" Hater. Occasionally, I get a hater who decides that leaving one comment simply isn't enough. This occurred most memorably when forgotten country singer Razzy Bailey took issue with my braggadocio concerning his imminent failure in remaining the "I'm Feeling Lucky" option in Google searches for "razzy." First I talked some shit about how I was gunning for Razzy Bailey's #1 Google search status, then I gloated when I toppled him in the PageRank popularity contest. Upon learning of his defeat at my hands, Razzy Bailey (or at least a rabid Razzy Bailey fan writing in from a Nashville IP address) vowed revenge and commenced a comment page blitzkrieg. Under the nom de plume "jomammasanallover," this hater started by writing that I "confused 'articulate jackass' with 'enlightened jackass.'" Unsatisfied with this zinger, Razzy "jomammasanallover" Bailey spent the next several days combing through my archives and leaving progressively more vitriolic comments. As he practiced, his skills improved considerably from debates over which type of intellectually elite jackass I am, and actually produced some first-rate hating:
On my victory in the Google game:
Yet I can skip over your drivel by searching with "razzy bailey". Seems to be very little additional effort to get to something substantive. Conversely, if I search with "razzy cunt", there you are, right on top as you should be. Things are right with the world.On this fat Smith girl whose blog I deemed a "big, beautiful shitshow":
"I am strongly considering never mentioning that I went to Smith again."On naked pictures my artfag friends took of me:
Welcome news would be that you intend to never mention anything ever again at all.
"The problem here is not only that she was painted liberally with the ugly stick, ... "
Got mirrors?
Fantastic! If I blow this up to 400% and crop away everything but the cooch, after a qt of Wild Turkey I can actually masturbate to the 3rd one down.On my overall physical appearance at my friend's wedding:
"You know it's a good party when you start the night looking like this"On my whining about Social Security:
God, now that's hilarious. You're particular brand of sarcasm keep us in stitches spunktrap.
Everything you spew says "I'm depressed". Got any news? Sounds like you won't be needing social security anyway. Perhaps you haven't paid much into SS because you don't work. See, the blog doesn't count. Is it Razzy, or Nazzdy?On my account of my own deflowering:
I think we've all grown a little and find ourselves more complete having read this. You vagina is the center of the known universe Nazzdy.I like that. I'll answer to Nazzdy. That's kind of fun and catchy, and illustrates jomammasanallover's general creative skill. Despite the fact that he apparently learned punctuating from "The Electric Company," he covers a variety of topics (I'm fat, ugly, unemployed, depressed, and a nasty slut to boot), he vividly illustrates his point with clever anecdotes about masturbation and Wild Turkey, and he even invents delightfully catchy derogatory nicknames for me like "spunktrap." Frankly, "spunktrap" is a word that I need to incorporate into my own vocabulary with more regularity. Because of his gift at hating, I was almost sad when I responded to one of these comments by pointing out that, as the IP address originated on Razzy Bailey-related posts and was coming from Nashville AKA Razzy Bailey's known city of residence, I suspected that jomammasanallover was indeed Razzy Bailey. After being outed, jomammasanallover never commented again and sadly, "Nazzdy" never quite caught on. This brings me to my next bit of advice regarding effective hating.
Don't Make It So Fucking Easy For Me To Figure Out Who You Are, Dumbass
If you're hating on me because I've mocked you personally, then pretending to be some random hater who just happened to decide to take up your cause in a rabidly pissed-off way isn't the most effective form of subterfuge. When I start getting a bunch of comments on a post I've written mocking one person in particular, and then those comments immediately spread to other posts and they all come from the same IP address originating from the very city where said mockee lives, it doesn't take me a very long time to deduce who is sending those comments my way. For example, last week I busted on a website that one of my high school classmates relentlessly promoted on Facebook. Every damn day I would log into Facebook and find another "This Dumb Bitch has posted a link" item in my news feed, coupled with her demands that I drop everything and read her banal-ass drivel. Finally, I got fed up and wrote a mean-spirited critique of her and her craptastic website. I suppose I could have been less critical of This Dumb Bitch's physical appearance, but as I've learned, that's life when you expose yourself personally on the internets for public consumption. Not everyone is going to like your material OR your appearance, and when you operate a personality-driven blog that you voluntarily post and encourage people to read, you had better prepare for some criticism.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of dumb people who feel that it is somehow their "right" not to be criticized, and This Dumb Bitch was no exception. Immediately, she deleted her blog from the internet and proceeded to get on the comment page and accuse me of offenses such as being a "schoolyard bully," being "pastey-white," and disgracing my high school's good name. When I was like, "Oh hey, This Dumb Bitch" back, the person predictably responded with "no, it's not This Dumb Bitch!" People always do this when trying to defend themselves anonymously. I'm not sure if it's because they're afraid to admit to standing up for themselves or they want to give the impression that they have an army of fellow supporters galvanized to take action against me in the form of anonymous comments, but either way, the commenter always denies any affiliation to the person in question. However, when the IP address is coming from the main suspect's last known residence like, oh, say, TACOMA, WASHINGTON, the main suspect has spent the day deleting her blog and Facebook-defriending other high school classmates peripherally associated with my website, and the commenter not only writes in a way that is stylistically IDENTICAL to the now-defunct blog but continually talks about the high school we both went to, I don't have to be Jessica Fucking Fletcher to realize that if I'm not dealing with This Dumb Bitch, I'm dealing with her husband, sister, or other close friend/family member. Oh, and did I mention that the hits coming from that TACOMA, WASHINGTON COMCAST IP ADDRESS look like this?
Guess what, This Dumb Bitch? No random person cares enough about your fat ass to defend you on my blog. Therefore, leaving comments expressing moral indignation coupled with calling me names on the page I wrote about you and pretending not to be you while simultaneously calling me fat on the Sarah Palin Halloween costume post I wrote isn't exactly a diabolically clever way to throw me off your trail. And speaking of the comments you left on the Sarah Palin post, let me get to my third tip.
Guess what, This Dumb Bitch? No random person cares enough about your fat ass to defend you on my blog. Therefore, leaving comments expressing moral indignation coupled with calling me names on the page I wrote about you and pretending not to be you while simultaneously calling me fat on the Sarah Palin Halloween costume post I wrote isn't exactly a diabolically clever way to throw me off your trail. And speaking of the comments you left on the Sarah Palin post, let me get to my third tip.
Don't Post My Fucking Name and Home Address
Yesterday, This Dumb Bitch and/or her co-conspirator left multiple comments on the Sarah Palin post which read:
Can we say... Muffin Top & Thunder Thighs. Looks like [MY FULL REAL NAME] of [MY HOME ADDRESS], with phone number [MY CELL PHONE NUMBER] needs to step on the treadmill.This Dumb Bitch attempted to post this multiple times before going through the mental gymnastics necessary to comprehend the boldfaced blurb underneath the comment window which reads: "Comment moderation has been enabled. All comments must be approved by the blog author." Then they left another comment (which I did approve) claiming that I only approve "self-serving comments" rather than ones that eviscerate me via fifth-grade affronts like "thunder thighs."
In a way, this is true, if you consider not wanting to GET FUCKING RAPED by some random psycho "self-serving." I'm more than happy to publish pages of comments pointing out the fact that I could lose 5 or 10 vanity pounds (although that's pretty rich, considering THIS is what This Dumb Bitch looks like), however derisively that sentiment may be phrased. However, after my past experience in which another dumb bitch I'd made fun of took an ad out on Craigslist casual encounters, impersonated me and said that I was up for some dirty sex, and SENT ONE OF THESE RANDOM DUDES TO MY FRONT DOOR EXPECTING TO HAVE SEX WITH ME, I'm understandably a little touchy about my personal information being distributed in a revenge-seeking context. I learned a lot from that experience. Most importantly, I learned that doing such a thing is a federal crime. If you willfully post information intended to send people to my home, you are basically an accessory to any crime I might be a victim of. Whatever I may have written about This Dumb Bitch to offend her, I NEVER posted anything that she didn't make publicly available on her own website, and as unattractive and boring a writer as she may be, I would never disclose her home address or try to set her up for actual bodily harm or criminal victimization. If she's such a fabulous example of what a Bellarmine graduate should be, then maybe she should stick to passive-aggressively implying that I'm a morally bereft loser and calling me names rather than angling to be an accessory to felony assault. If not because she's the decent human being she claims to be, then because being part of something like that could get your kid taken away from you, or could get you kicked out of the Army, or could land you in prison and generally ruin your life. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never show up to my house and rape or murder me, so I'd advise limiting future insults to trite bullshit like "thunder thighs" rather than a roadmap to my front door.
I hope this has been helpful for all you fledgling enemies of mine! Now that you've got the 411 regarding the hatred sitch here at RAZZY.org, by all means, have at it. Oh, and also, today is Election Day! Don't forget to vote.
Labels: crime and punishment, Facebook, P-N-Dub, Razzy Haters, sexual assault
Monday, October 27, 2008
LOL terror
I just read some article about the latest in military intelligence. Specifically, the Army noted that terrorists can use Twitter to orchestrate attacks, if the terrorists Twitter each other about police movements and whatever other logistical details these jackasses need to pay attention to when suicide bombing things or doing other freedom-hating activities. In fact, it's not even your typical Islamic jihadists who might Twitter their way to striking a blow against us infidels. All sorts of nefarious groups could Twitter their way to a terror attack:
"Twitter has also become a social activism tool for socialists, human rights groups, communists, vegetarians, anarchists, religious communities, atheists, political enthusiasts, hacktivists and others to communicate with each other and to send messages to broader audiences," the report said.
I don't use Twitter, but I figured that if evildoers like vegetarians, human rights groups, and all these other hippie types are using it to strike fear in the hearts of freedom-loving Americans everywhere, they're probably using Facebook too. So I checked it out and what do you know? Sure enough, Osama bin Laden is on Facebook and we're both members of the "New York, NY" network! I believe it's really his page, because only a truly depraved, morally bankrupt individual like the mastermind behind 9/11 could speak so highly about "Everybody Loves Raymond."
Yes, "i blow up cars with people in it :P" sounds pretty bin Laden-ish to me. Granted, I don't speak Arabic but from what I've seen of those Al-Jazeera cave videos, bin Laden is always like "zomg usa sux LOLz" while waving around an assault rifle. Besides, it seems pretty reasonable to assume that if the terrorists are using Twitter, they've discovered Facebook. In fact, this is correct, and they're so into it that Al-Qaeda has started a Facebook group! And they have like 40 more members than MY Facebook group (which you should obviously should join immediately if you have not done so yet). That's not cool. I like to think that there are far more Razzyphiles out there than America-hating terror cells waiting to strike at my beloved USA! U! S! A!
I don't know why the U.S. Army is so hung up on the possibility of Twitter terror when it's already thriving on Facebook. If I were them, I'd get off my hypothetical ass and hit the terrorists where it really hurts: their online social network. If my friends' attitude toward Facebook is any indication, bin Laden will be in a state of extreme agitation and confusion if he can't check his news feed to see who all of his terrorist buddies are making Facebook friends with, SuperPoke Ayman al-Zawahri, plant something in his friends' "green patches," take a quiz to determine which "Sex and the City" character he most resembles, or change his status to "Osama bin Laden is wishing this cave got Showtime :(" or "Osama bin Laden is AHAHAHAHA you gluttonous infidels, the world economy is collapsing lolZ u westernized whores." Cut off his Facebook, and cut off his terror network. USA! U! S! A!
Labels: crime and punishment, Facebook, terror, United States of Asskickery
Friday, October 24, 2008
Reaping the rewards of ragging on fat former classmates with shiteous blogs overexposed on the Facebooks
Over the last day or so, I've had a couple concerned Razzyphiles freak out because my site has inexplicably disappeared from the internets. I have no idea why this is going on, except it might be my karmic reward for telling this fat chick I went to high school with that her lame blog was boring and a waste of bandwidth after I got tired of being exhorted via Facebook to read the latest in her completely uneventful life (she's doing homework, her kid wants to go as some bitch from High School Musical for Halloween, etc.). My old buddy Morrissey'sHair told me that he had previously defriended her on MySpace for posting blog entries that he thought were racist and she consequently tried to start some sort of blood feud with him and his twin brother HotLawyer. When he told me this, and I consequently read a few posts in which she discussed her vaginal bleeding at length and how she was involved in some sort of MySpace messaging scandal with her deadbeat baby daddy, I decided to take some action. I called her fat (although "morbidly obese" is probably more accurate), and left a few now-deleted comments suggesting in a not particularly subtle way that she's a terrible writer and the blogosphere would be a better place if her fingers were chopped off so she could no longer type monotonous shit about her kid and how she dropped some Urban Studies night school class because learning about the constitutional issues affecting poor inner-city black people was just too fucking hard and how she's in charge of the Army wives' bake sale club or something. I forgot to mention that her husband is so ugly that he looks like a long-lost relative of Chingy! in head-to-toe camo (although to be fair, I've never met a hot chubby chaser), but I suppose if she ever draws my ire again, I can throw that in, along with my observation that he has bigger tits than I do.
As a result of all this mean-spirited bitchery, she Facebook-defriended me and wrote a post whining about how she can't write about her feelings without criticism from big cruel meanies like me (and by the way, welcome to the internets, chunks), but perhaps the fates didn't think that was punishment enough for me performing what I consider a service to the blog-reading public. Thus, I am paying for my evil ways by having sporadic connectivity to my infinitely superior, far more interesting source of useless bullshit. I'm now directing my antagonism toward my hosting provider to remind them that I don't pay a whopping $7 a month to deprive my loyal Razzyphiles of my literary hotness for even one second. So, if you can actually read this, know that I'm as on top of it like a hot guy after half a bottle of scotch.
Labels: computer incompetence, excuses, Facebook, fat fucks, Morrissey'sHair
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, April 08, 2008
We are not dumb enough
Last night, I was at my friend JerseyGirl's apartment for our usual Monday night cooking lesson and trashy TV watching. During "The Hills," JerseyGirl and I kept the other ladies entertained by trying to reenact scenes from that night's episodes.
"So, like, I saw, Heidi and Spencer's sister at Vice like last night," I said, trying as hard as I could to master Audrina Patridge's perpetually confused, mouth-breathing smile.
"Too smart! You can tell that you're THINKING and it doesn't hurt," said HillsYes.
"Okay, shit, I'll be LC in this scene, then," I said. Compared to Audrina and Whitney, Lauren Conrad looks like a rocket scientist. "You be Audrina, JerseyGirl."
"Like, she came over and like, talked to me, and went off on this whole, like, thing, and like, I was all, I don't know. It was like really...yeah," said JerseyGirl.
"Still too smart!" crowed HillsYes. "I'm serious, you guys are both too intelligent to pull it off. Even at your dumbest, you're both too obviously smart to even do a decent LC."
"Okay, okay, let's try it again. With even less conversation. I'll be Whitney, you be Audrina, let's just pretend we're talking about our jobs," I said. "Like, it was like, really hard to leave my three-year internship at Teen Vogue, but like, I love saying 'go go go!' to the runway models in this, like, fashion show," I ventured.
"Epic Records is like...like..." said JerseyGirl.
"JerseyGirl just did a good Audrina!" approved HillsYes. As her name implies, she's our resident "Hills" expert. We all watch "The Hills," but nobody thinks about it as much as HillsYes. "You almost had me convinced that you were that fucking clueless. But you're both still too smart."
After we watched "The Hills," all the other girls left, and instead of turning in early like good girls, JerseyGirl and I proceeded to finish drinking all the beer in her fridge. If only HillsYes had stuck around, because we ultimately became Whitney and Audrina in real life. JerseyGirl couldn't figure out how to connect her laptop to the internet, and wanted to know if I would upload the pictures from her digital camera to what she alternately refers to as "MyFace" and "Spacebook."
"You're probably better at figuring out computers than me, anyway, Razzy," she said. "I mean, you do science and you have a website and stuff." This warranted a simultaneous laugh-out-loud, audible scoff, and exclamation of "sha right" from me. I went into biology so I wouldn't have to do any math beyond y=mx+b and I am so completely inept at computers that it's a miracle I can publish a solitary word to the internets.
True to form, I was unable to figure out how to connect her camera to my computer. Well, I connected the cable, but my computer refused to acknowledge the camera's presence even after I installed the camera's software three times. I eventually gave up, blaming it on my having a Mac. I have no idea if that's the problem, but it sounds sufficiently insurmountable and I wanted an excuse to give up since we were both getting frustrated.
"OMG, dude, we really are like Whitney and Audrina right now. No wonder they never asked Whitney to do any photo layouts for Teen Vogue." JerseyGirl said.
"I know we aren't this stupid. HillsYes said we looked too smart!"
"Looked smart," said JerseyGirl.
Luckily, then JerseyGirl had a stroke of genius. She could burn some of her pictures to her one blank CD on her computer, then I could load the disc into my computer and upload it to the social networking internets. We high-fived each other on a job (slightly) more well done than Whitney and LC's attempts to pick up their shoes prior to the Crillon Ball in Paris during the season premiere.
"Obviously I have to name this album 'Whitney and Audrina,'" I said, as I uploaded the pictures to my Facebook page.
"Okay, now we have to do something really dumb, like start tagging stupid stuff," said JerseyGirl. We wound up tagging a vegetable platter, a chair, my tits, our friend Rack's boyfriend TheOldGuy, a spatula, and a cake as JerseyGirl's boyfriend Kodiak and thought this was hysterically funny. Then JerseyGirl logged in to her Facebook account and proceeded to tag pictures of Chris Hansen and John Starks as me and we basically spent about an hour doing more of what JerseyGirl called "being renarded."
Sadly, even at our most inebriated and stupid, I have a feeling that, had a sober observer been present, we still would have seemed more intelligent than Whitney and Audrina. Even at our dumbest, we can't exceed the lofty standards those two broads have set for being vapid morons. Judge for yourself. Here's some pictures of Whitney and Audrina:
And here's myself and JerseyGirl. To level the playing field, I made sure to use a couple pictures in which we are both clearly WASTED OFF OUR ASSES. These pictures were from New Year's Eve, and while I don't remember what JerseyGirl was drinking, I was rolling on a brutal combination of scotch, sake, champagne, and tonsillitis that landed me in the Columbia-Presbyterian ER a day later.
Even when visibly drunk off our asses and not performing at capacity intellectually, we just can't get to that level of visibly stupid. I guess we'll never get our own tightly scripted reality shows. Lame.
Labels: computer incompetence, Dumb Smith bitches, Facebook, HillsYes, JerseyGirl, sluts, The Hills, TV
Friday, March 21, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: J-Sexy...AGAIN
RAZZY Note: This isn't J-Sexy. She doesn't want her picture floating around too much on the internets, so I put up this picture of the original Queen of the Dancehall, Lady Saw, instead. J-Sexy is way better looking than Lady Saw, but like her, she is black and beautiful, pink and fruitiful.
DOB: 1981
Occupation: getting bitch-slapped by poliovirus 2A protease, saying "mmm-mmm-mmm" disapprovingly, making cheap jokes about my age (ie: her favorite nickname for me is "Oldilocks"), being my platonic life partner, chillaxing
Hometown: Kingston, Jamaica
Current residence: Washington Heights, New York, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Today is my platonic life partner's department seminar, and she's unhappy with it. Both of us are unhappy in general with the way our graduate thesis projects have progressed, and nothing brings out dissatisfaction with your data like department seminar. Yesterday, we were talking about ways to spice it up. In the past, J-Sexy has put her Power Point slides on brightly colored backgrounds to add some cheer. This year, she was initially much more pessimistic about the whole thing, and skipped the neon-yellow background. However, yesterday, she changed her tune and decided that she would like to have some entrance music like that used to great effect in sports entertainment. Our lab speculated that it would really add a lot to her presentation to start it off with "IF YOU SMELLLLLL WHAT J-SEXY. IS COOKIN'!" followed by some pyrotechnics, The Rock's theme music, and J-Sexy strutting out to raise the People's Eyebrow at whatever members of our department showed up. I even offered to wear a slutty outfit and come out with her as her "manager," and hit any faculty members not paying close enough attention to her awesome data in the back with a folding chair.
Unfortunately, I expect she'll have scrapped those plans after thinking about it more carefully. So I'll just say that I am certain she'll kick ass and we'll all be impressed with her antagonism of the poliovirus interferon antagonist. She's a hot piece, an insanely talented scientist, a great cook, a sharp mind, and the best platonic life partner a girl could ask for. Plus, she's a member of the greatest group in the history of Facebook. I LOVE YOU, J-SEXY!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Facebook, grad school bullshit, hot chicks, J-Sexy, science, viruses rule
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: members of the Razzyphiles Facebook group
DOB: various
Occupation: useless bullshit connoisseurs, hot-ass pieces, lovers of yours truly
Hometown: various
Current residence: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=25477690607&ref=mf
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Yesterday I was in a dark and depressed mood (and I was horribly hung over from drinking my problems temporarily away the night before), and I spent much of the day conferring (Gchatting) with the Razzy.org Office of General Counsel. At one point, I was on the Gchat horn with ElCyd, and after a lengthy conversation about legal matters, she changed the subject to cheer me up:
ElCyd: i think we should start a razzyphiles facebook group
Razzy: HELL YES!
Razzy: that turned my frown upside down
ElCyd: YES!
ElCyd: who doesn't want to be a razzyphile?
Razzy: FOR REAL
ElCyd: holler at me if you want to chat more
ElCyd: ima make this razzy group
ElCyd: lates
Razzy: HOT
(10 minutes later)
ElCyd: i've appointed myself RazzificatorAnyway, ElCyd managed to hook me up with two things I needed: lawyerly advice and a much-needed ego stroking. I am pleased to say that with regard to the latter, there are now almost 30 official card-carrying Razzyphiles...and I don't personally know at least 10 of them! In fact, when I joined my own fan club, there were already four other members, and I had joined 5 minutes after its creation! That rules so hard.
ElCyd: because it's so GWBush-like
Razzy: NICE
Razzy: i love it
Razzy: wait, is it on facebook yet?
Razzy: because i'm obvi joining immediately
ElCyd: yes
ElCyd: i sent you an invitation
ElCyd: (duh)
Razzy: KICK ASS
ElCyd: hell yeah.
Razzy: dude i love it
Razzy: this has turned a shitty day into a great one!
Razzyphiles are the hotness in my book (duh), as in addition to loving me, they are willing to sign up for "useless bullshit" as one of their main "Beliefs and Causes." That is a belief and cause I respect and have devoted my extracurricular life to, and I salute you all for being insanely smart, clever, sensible, maddeningly sexy, and generally rocking harder than a Judas Priest concert circa 1986. I love you guys. For serious, people. I really, really, REALLY do, and I thank you from the bottom of my tar-filled, shriveled Grinch heart for your reading what I put a lot of time and effort into, telling me what you think, and lining up behind me in support. Oh, and your worshipful adoration. That rules too.
Oh, yeah, and if you haven't joined yet, what's your problem? Don't you want to be one of the (30) cool kids on Facebook? I mean, if you're on MySpace instead, let me remind you that it's not 2005 anymore. Facebook is what all the youngsters are doing these days on the social networkity internets, so get with the times. And make your Razzyphile status official by joining the group! YEAH!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, ElCyd, Facebook, I LOVE IT, internet domination, Razzyphiles
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
