Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Avada kedavre! No, seriously, AVADA FUCKING KEDAVRE!
Okay, so I know that the "Avada kedavre" killing curse only works in Harry Potter, but frankly it's about as believable as the latest stunt epic douchebag David Blaine is pulling as far as "magic" is concerned. Besides, the prospect of eliminating him Voldemort-style in a rush of green light has never been more appealing. I wish that I could Avada kedavre David Blaine and get him to permanently cease and desist clogging up my news pages with tales of his latest exploits in pointlessness.
In the past, David Blaine has somehow managed to convince the public that swimming around in a giant breast implant, being frozen in a block of ice, and being trapped in a plexiglass box constitutes some sort of illusionist mystery. The reality is that David Blaine just likes to tell everyone there is something wizardly and enigmatic about doing uncomfortable things for a really long time when you wear eyeliner and black shirts. I have news for all the gullible morons who like to ooh and aah about David Blaine's so-called feats of amazement: his apparent high tolerance for repeated extended urethral catheterization doesn't indicate magic so much as a penis with impaired sensory capabilities. He's no Uncle Majic the Hip-Hop Magician, that's for damn sure.
His latest exercise in media whoring charlatanry, dramatically named the "Dive of Death," involves him hanging upside down in Central Park for two days. Apparently this means he could be at risk of high blood pressure, blindness, and a stroke. I'm hoping that all of the above will go down and result in David Blaine going on the permanent PUP list for magicians, but so far he's just dangling like a giant pretentious bullshit-spewing Robert Downey, Jr.-impersonating bat.
He's like a giant douchebag-shaped piñata, and his handlers were wise to suspend him six stories up. If he were within reach, I'd gladly start pummeling him, and that wouldn't end well, because instead of pouring out delicious candy, he'd likely unleash a giant shitstorm of loathsome assfuckery. Since I can't play Bludgeon-the-Fucktard, I will instead just root for a stroke. LET'S GO STROKE!
Labels: assholes, Harry Potter, magick is bullshit, NYC, ranting, retard rage, scathing indictments
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
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Michael Gambon and Tilda Swinton (tie)
DOB: October 19, 1940 and November 5, 1960, respectively
Occupation: acclaimed thespians; true players for real
Hometown: Dublin, Ireland and London, England respectively
Current residence: London, England and Naim, Scotland, respectively
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Sure, these much-lauded (and now in Tilda's case, Oscar winning) masters of the theatrical craft seem like they probably spend most of their spare time taking tea and crumpets and other activities that buttoned-up British people do. However, don't let their looks deceive you: these two are straight players who run their stables with more aptitude than even Todd "Too $hort" Shaw, Don Magic Juan, or other pimps of legend. Both of them have homes and spouses, and keep a hot younger piece on the side.
Michael has proved that playing a gay wizard in no way prevents him from enthusiastically loving the ladies in real life. He's married to Lady Anne Gambon, his loving wife of 45 years. He also lives in a bachelor flat close to the boudoir of his 42-year-old mistress Philippa Hart. Tilda lives with her baby daddy and their twins, but spends her down time traversing the world with her 29-year-old Kiwi boyfriend Sandro Kopp. She even left the old ball and chain back in Scotland and brought her younger fucktoy to the Oscars with her this year! According to Tilda, they are all the bestest of friends.
I like these two because they are both improbably hot, and are working that to their full advantage. Normally I don't dig on shaggy old men like Michael because, in the words of T-Pain, he's "wrinkly and got too much hair...I don't like hair in my mouth." Also, my taste in women is limited to lipstick lesbo blondes rather than androgynous would-be David Bowie impersonators. However, both Michael and Tilda are what my friend Rack calls "ugly sexy". By normal estimation, these two should be considered unattractive, but there's a certain intangible hotness to them. Having copious quantities of "ugly sexiness" is likely why they're both able to nail extramarital side pieces several decades younger. Well, either that or Philippa Hart is crazy about Harry Potter and Sandro Kopp was smitten with that hot chain-mail dress number Tilda Swinton wore during the battle scene from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I thought that movie sucked, but I perked up immediately when she showed up clad in fur and metal to open a can of swords and evil magic all over some leonine allegorical Christian ass. Tilda Swinton hadn't done much to sway my attention before that, but once I got a gander of that outfit, I was all for breaking me off a piece of battle-ready White Witch.
Labels: aging, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Harry Potter, hot chicks, hot dudes, movies, sluts
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: J.K. Rowling
DOB: July 31, 1965
Occupation: billionaire author, hottest MILF in England
Hometown: Yate, Gloucestershire, England
Current residence: Aberfeldy, Perth and Kinross, Scotland
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: J.K. Rowling--better known as Jo--is a MILF of the highest order. For starters, she looks pretty hot for a lady over 40, and she knows it. Girlfriend may be a children's book writer, but she always shows up to readings rocking some stellar cleavage, and I approve. Kids have the tendency to strip their mothers of their sexiness like the little succubi that they are, so tits out to Jo for resisting the frumpy Mrs. Weasley style that many moms adopt. You know she's a tiger in the sack, too. Every time you see her anesthesiologist husband, he looks like he's walking on air, and I suspect it's because the lady knows her way around a weiner.
However, while her sexy style is commendable, Jo's greatest achievement is writing the Harry Potter books. I will always be grateful to her for this, because I seriously, seriously love those books. Because of them, she's richer than the damn Queen, and probably more beloved too. I also love that she's as fiercely protective of Harry as she probably is of her own kids. When they made the movies, she was a total control freak about it, thus ensuring that Hollywood couldn't fuck it up horribly. If she hadn't, I could just see the producers casting Shia LeBoeuf as Harry Potter, Lindsay Lohan as Hermione, and Jack Nicholson as Dumbledore, and relocating Hogwarts to L.A. or something, which would have ruined everything.
Adding to the impressiveness of her Harry Potter empire, she started writing the first book in a coffee shop when she was a single mother on welfare. Clearly she was not sitting around trying to find a fucking husband/replacement baby daddy or have more kids to get a few extra shillings in her monthly state benefits check. Jo obviously thought she was something special, and time has since proven that she is indeed an inspiration to other baby-toting bitches who have fallen on hard times. She deserves every last pence of her billion-dollar fortune.
I doubt she'll write another Harry Potter book other than the encyclopedias she's said she'd publish as a companion to the series. I still have a few days before my self-imposed moratorium on discussing the content of book 7 at length expires, but with the way it ended, any future Harry Potter stories would be far-fetched and really unnecessary. Book 7 did a nice job of wrapping everything up. However, you bet your ass I'll buy those encyclopedias once she cranks those out. Jo Rowling is the super hotness, and at this point, she can do no wrong.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Harry Potter, hot chicks, sluts
Monday, July 23, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Daniel Radcliffe
DOB: July 23, 1989 (Today he's LEGAL!)
Occupation: Harry Potter, naked actor, groupie aficionado
Hometown: Fulham, London, England
Current residence: some swanky flat in London
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I've been going on and on about Harry Potter's hotness over the last year, at least since pictures of him naked in Equus started showing up around the internets. As of today, I can now discuss this without the fear that Chris Hansen might show up with a sheaf of incriminating chat transcripts (if only I had Daniel Radcliffe's IM handle) and a camera crew ready to share my depravity with all of Dateline's audience. Harry turns 18 today, and thus stops being totally kewl, and starts being totally legal.
As evidence of his legal adult status, today he takes the reins of his $41.1 million dollar fortune (thus making him one of the richest teens in the U.K.), although he insists it's not a big deal, since rather than go "buy a massive sportscar collection," he says he spends most of his money on books. BOOKS! Be still my geeky heart.
Plus, he said awhile back that he has zero problems with bitches who want to bang him just because he's Harry Potter, so long as they don't call him "Harry" during the act. It works out just fine for him because he's not looking for an exclusive girlfriend and is ready to enjoy his young adulthood. I'm sure I could restrain myself from calling him "Harry" and teach him a thing or twelve about what to do with his uncircumcised wand. I've got ten years of experience,
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Harry Potter, hot dudes, kewlness, sex
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Mischief managed
Harry Potter dies!
JUST KIDDING. I'm not telling if he does or doesn't. I've forbidden myself from discussing any spoilers from the book for at least a week, since not everyone is as fast a reader as myself, nor is everyone geeky enough to set aside an entire day and a half to read all 759 glorious pages of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. After a week, I'm going to talk about it to my heart's content, because if you can't get it all down in that time, then you're not a big enough HP fan to warrant protection from spoilers. I'm not going to be that asshole who was probably running around outside the bookstore at midnight in June 2005 hollering, "Snape kills Dumbledore! Snape kills Dumbledore!," but if your number one priority isn't reading HP and the DH within a week, then you don't care enough to have it seriously ruined for you once I start bragging about how many of predictions were correct (and a lot of them were, right down to Neville Longbottom's deft use of a Venemous Tentacula in battle).
From my judgment, most of New York City now has this book in its possession. On Friday night, I got together with FalloniusMonk and JerseyGirl to pre-funk for our trip to the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble. We knew this was going to be crazy, so we reserved some books ahead of time. JerseyGirl lives right by there, so she stopped by early in the evening to check out the wristband situation, and was told that we would have a separate line which would expedite our getting our hands on the book. We decided not to show up until 12:10, because we were drinking and had to finish our beers.
Once we got there, where exactly our special reserved book VIP line began was unclear. All we could see was a gigantic line wrapping all the way around the block. We all found an employee in a robe outside who gave us wristbands and directed us to the "shorter" reserved line. I realized quickly that this reserved line was not remotely short, and I was already bored. So first, we cut in front of this kid who was the Muggle equivalent of the teenage Severus Snape: greasy, long-haired, and full of smoldering vitriol. He looked a lot like this douchebag:
Muggle Snivellus tried to get our attention to bitch at us with a feeble but snotty "excuse me." We ignored him. He persisted, "EXCUSE ME, there's a line."
"Yeah, and we just got in it," I replied, giving him a challenging look. Fifteen-year-old loser getting his Harry Potter by himself versus drunken Razzy crossing her arms and exuding I-dare-you-to-fuck-with-me,-son bitchy vibes isn't even a contest, so he just started grumbling to himself. However, I realized that our position in the line was still going to get us checking out our books by around 2:30 a.m. More cutting in line was necessary.
I have used the "pretend to be confused and rightfully deserving of your illicitly-acquried spot in line" strategy of line-cutting to great effect in New York. It was taught to me by my friend Dulap Vara at a Giants game one time, when I was too drunk to wait in the long line for buses from the Meadowlands back to Port Authority. "Let's just go blend into the front of the line as they're getting on the bus. That's how we do it in India," he said. We just walked inconspicuously to the front of the line and merged into the crowd boarding the next bus, and were back at Port Authority in 20 minutes. India style works like a charm.
I've done this several other times, like when I went to see Capote and when I didn't want to get stuck in the back of St. Patrick's on Easter at mass one year, and it works beautifully. People will usually notice and get pissed about your cutting, but if you just look at them like THEY'RE crazy and you have every right to be there, the worst that will happen is they'll grumble about it to their friends. They never actually get you thrown out of line, because most people are pussies who don't like confrontation. If you have the "What, motherfucker?" attitude necessary to pull it off, this cutting technique has a very high success rate. Also, when there are large crowds, you can easily escape anyone who is trying to get you in trouble for line-cutting by blending in with the mob. It's so effective.
So our line was at the point where it wrapped around the front of the line leading into the store. The store doorman was about to usher in a new flock of people at the front of the line, and I seized the opportunity. "Fortune favors the bold," I declared (yes, that's the stupid tagline from the shitshow of a movie known as Alexander, but it has a nice ring to it and in this situation it was an appropriate rallying cry), and led my posse alongside the line going into the store, only to merge into it at the very front. A group of teenagers in full Gryffindor regalia behind us began muttering mutinously and I said loudly, "Hey guys, I'm pretty sure we're still in the same line we've been waiting in all night, right? I think this is the line for the people with bracelets." The doorman nodded his assent, and I gave myself a mental high-five for once again orchestrating a successful India style cutting strategy.
"Okay, go!" the doorman said. "Go! Go! GO!" He ushered us in, and the teenagers behind us stopped caring as we were encouraged to not walk but RUN down a literal red carpet, complete with fake paparazzi snapping pictures and people cheering us on to "GO BUY THAT BOOK! GET IT NOW! GO!!!!!!!! YES! HARRY POTTER! GO! GO! GET IT!" I was a little dazed. I bought my copy and was out in less than five minutes. Even FalloniusMonk's order was quickly handled, and she bought a copy for everyone she knew and literally left that place with two gigantically heavy bags full of HP and the DH.
Since we saved so much time at the bookstore getting our copies, FalloniusMonk, JerseyGirl, and myself decided to wait just a little bit to start reading them, and bought a few six-packs instead. We should have all started reading because we're all big Harry Potter dorks. However, because we're also badass line-cutting rockstars who trimmed two hours of bored waiting off our Harry Potter-acquiring schedule, we drank and then went out for cheeseburgers. We are the coolest Harry Potter nerds ever.
From my judgment, most of New York City now has this book in its possession. On Friday night, I got together with FalloniusMonk and JerseyGirl to pre-funk for our trip to the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble. We knew this was going to be crazy, so we reserved some books ahead of time. JerseyGirl lives right by there, so she stopped by early in the evening to check out the wristband situation, and was told that we would have a separate line which would expedite our getting our hands on the book. We decided not to show up until 12:10, because we were drinking and had to finish our beers.
Once we got there, where exactly our special reserved book VIP line began was unclear. All we could see was a gigantic line wrapping all the way around the block. We all found an employee in a robe outside who gave us wristbands and directed us to the "shorter" reserved line. I realized quickly that this reserved line was not remotely short, and I was already bored. So first, we cut in front of this kid who was the Muggle equivalent of the teenage Severus Snape: greasy, long-haired, and full of smoldering vitriol. He looked a lot like this douchebag:
Muggle Snivellus tried to get our attention to bitch at us with a feeble but snotty "excuse me." We ignored him. He persisted, "EXCUSE ME, there's a line."
"Yeah, and we just got in it," I replied, giving him a challenging look. Fifteen-year-old loser getting his Harry Potter by himself versus drunken Razzy crossing her arms and exuding I-dare-you-to-fuck-with-me,-son bitchy vibes isn't even a contest, so he just started grumbling to himself. However, I realized that our position in the line was still going to get us checking out our books by around 2:30 a.m. More cutting in line was necessary.
I have used the "pretend to be confused and rightfully deserving of your illicitly-acquried spot in line" strategy of line-cutting to great effect in New York. It was taught to me by my friend Dulap Vara at a Giants game one time, when I was too drunk to wait in the long line for buses from the Meadowlands back to Port Authority. "Let's just go blend into the front of the line as they're getting on the bus. That's how we do it in India," he said. We just walked inconspicuously to the front of the line and merged into the crowd boarding the next bus, and were back at Port Authority in 20 minutes. India style works like a charm.
I've done this several other times, like when I went to see Capote and when I didn't want to get stuck in the back of St. Patrick's on Easter at mass one year, and it works beautifully. People will usually notice and get pissed about your cutting, but if you just look at them like THEY'RE crazy and you have every right to be there, the worst that will happen is they'll grumble about it to their friends. They never actually get you thrown out of line, because most people are pussies who don't like confrontation. If you have the "What, motherfucker?" attitude necessary to pull it off, this cutting technique has a very high success rate. Also, when there are large crowds, you can easily escape anyone who is trying to get you in trouble for line-cutting by blending in with the mob. It's so effective.
So our line was at the point where it wrapped around the front of the line leading into the store. The store doorman was about to usher in a new flock of people at the front of the line, and I seized the opportunity. "Fortune favors the bold," I declared (yes, that's the stupid tagline from the shitshow of a movie known as Alexander, but it has a nice ring to it and in this situation it was an appropriate rallying cry), and led my posse alongside the line going into the store, only to merge into it at the very front. A group of teenagers in full Gryffindor regalia behind us began muttering mutinously and I said loudly, "Hey guys, I'm pretty sure we're still in the same line we've been waiting in all night, right? I think this is the line for the people with bracelets." The doorman nodded his assent, and I gave myself a mental high-five for once again orchestrating a successful India style cutting strategy.
"Okay, go!" the doorman said. "Go! Go! GO!" He ushered us in, and the teenagers behind us stopped caring as we were encouraged to not walk but RUN down a literal red carpet, complete with fake paparazzi snapping pictures and people cheering us on to "GO BUY THAT BOOK! GET IT NOW! GO!!!!!!!! YES! HARRY POTTER! GO! GO! GET IT!" I was a little dazed. I bought my copy and was out in less than five minutes. Even FalloniusMonk's order was quickly handled, and she bought a copy for everyone she knew and literally left that place with two gigantically heavy bags full of HP and the DH.
Since we saved so much time at the bookstore getting our copies, FalloniusMonk, JerseyGirl, and myself decided to wait just a little bit to start reading them, and bought a few six-packs instead. We should have all started reading because we're all big Harry Potter dorks. However, because we're also badass line-cutting rockstars who trimmed two hours of bored waiting off our Harry Potter-acquiring schedule, we drank and then went out for cheeseburgers. We are the coolest Harry Potter nerds ever.
Labels: epic geekery, FalloniusMonk, Harry Potter, JerseyGirl, librophilia, nerd alert
Friday, July 20, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Nobody
I'm not writing a Daily Douchebag today because I'm in such an impossibly good mood I actually can't think of anything or anybody that makes me mad. This may be a first.
Why the glass-half-full outlook, you ask? In short, this:
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so excited I could be the fourth Pointer Sister, because not only can I not hide it, but I'm about to lose control and I KNOW I like it. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows drops tonight, and if you want to see me getting my drunken geeky swerve on while waiting in line with ten thousand other people in Gryffindor gear, stop on over to the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble (67th and Broadway, I think) around midnight. And then get out of my way, because I plan to go home and bury my face in it like a hot lay's crotch.
Why the glass-half-full outlook, you ask? In short, this:
Labels: Daily Douchebag, Harry Potter, I LOVE IT, librophilia
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Leaky Internets
I saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on Saturday, and it represents the only time that something so prominently involving children made me so deliriously, outrageously, ludicrously excited. I went to see it in IMAX 3-D with a cadre of geeky friends, and it was completely mind-blowing. Apart from the fact that I still have major issues with Helena Bonham Carter's cackling, I'll-get-you-my-pretty interpretation of Bellatrix Lestrange, I about pissed myself when Dumbledore smoked some Dark Lord ass in the Ministry of Magic lobby. I also noticed a strange watery sensation around my eyes when Bellatrix committed cousin-icide against Sirius, and realized I was dangerously close to actually crying. I was surprised because usually I reserve my spare tears for movies where tragedy befalls dogs. Anyway, the movie clearly shook me to my core, and filled me with an insatiable lust for MORE HARRY POTTER. As soon as the movie was over, FalloniusMonk, Rack, TheOldGuy, and myself made our way to the nearby Barnes and Noble to reserve our copies of book seven. We plan on staking that shit out--complete with covert liquor--to get our books Saturday at midnight (and I plan on staying up all night reading it). However, it seems that braving a crowded store full of children in Gryffindor colors might be unnecessary, because the book has LEAKED ON THE INTERNET!
I was initially alarmed, because I didn't want to download a leaked copy only to find out that it's just the end of the book. As tempted as I am to find out who dies (please, God, don't let it be hot-ass Hermione...she's too smart to die!), I don't want to read the end of the book until I've read the previous seven hundred odd pages. I've got to know how Harry manages to find and destroy all of Voldemort's other Horcruxes first! Besides, I've also made my predictions about what's going to happen in this book, and I have to see every last one validated. These predictions are as follows:
-Harry realizes that Kreacher is hoarding the locket Horcrux stolen by R.A.B.--aka Regulus Black--right under his nose in the damn Hogwarts kitchen, and then breaks his usual tradition of tolerating how fucking annoying house elves are by shoving his holly and phoenix feather wand straight up that godfather-betraying, mudblood-hating bigot's ass.
-Hermione finally gets it on with Ron Weasley, a scene which, given how long the sexual tension has been building between those two, will probably result in them having dirty, ass-smacking, furniture-toppling, owl-mediated ruckus-causing, back-scratching, hematoma-inducing, shrieking orgasm-producing sex on top of Ron's Chudley Cannons bedspread back at the Burrow while Harry, Ginny, and whichever other Weasleys are around are out helping Mrs. Weasley degnome the garden.
-Petunia Dursley finds out she also has magical powers, is nearly killed by Uncle Vernon who fears the neighbors will find out, escapes on the Knight Bus, and finds solace at Hogwarts, where she is appointed the most incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in the school's millenium-long history.
-Voldemort storms the Ministry of Magic with a shitload of giants and dementors, and Percy Weasley dies fleeing like the pussy he is. Rufus Scrimgeour then conspires with Rita Skeeter to figure out a way to blame it all on Harry.
-Neville Longbottom gets offed by a well-placed Avada Kedavre curse performed by Narcissa Malfoy (because Draco was supposed to do it, but once again got cold feet), but not before he takes out Bellatrix Lestrange and avenges the permanent catatonic state she put his parents into by torturing them with the Cruciatus Curse. He manages to kill her by harnessing his adept skills at herbology and feeding her to the Venemous Tentacula in Hogwarts greenhouse three, Little Shop of Horrors style.
-Bill Weasley turns into a werewolf on his wedding night and bites the shit out of his irritating French bride Fleur. She survives, and thanks to her Veela heritage, is the most alluring werewolf ever.
-Hagrid dies. Homeboy can hold his own with dragons, acromantulas, hippogriffs, blast-ended skrewts, and giants, but his pink umbrella/covert broken wand is no match for the Imperius Curse placed on him by the former Ministry executioner MacNair that makes him stroll into the Forbidden Forest and stand still while talking mad shit to the angry Centaurs living in there.
-Harry, after spitting some seriously Schwarzenegger-esque vengeance-themed smack talk in Parseltongue to Voldemort's snake (and probable Horcrux) Nagini, kills her, turns her into an extremely pimped-out set of boots, and suddenly is the most popular piece of ass at Hogwarts in spite of the fact that practically everyone he knows ends up dead.
-Tonks discovers that werewolvery, like most blood-borne diseases, can be spread in other ways besides biting when she and Remus Lupin do the nasty in the coat closet at number twelve, Grimmauld Place after a particularly late, oak-matured mead-saturated Order of the Phoenix meeting. She and Fleur start a support group for women who have been infected with an incurable chronic disease by their male partners.
-Madam Rosmerta gets sent to Azkaban, not because she tried to deliver the cursed necklace or the poisoned mead to Dumbledore (she was Imperiused by Malfoy, so that's excusable), but because she's such a damn cocktease that finally the men of Hogsmeade had enough and successfully lobbied the Wizengamot to convict her on the basis of being too sexually distracting to be legal. She is, however, released after the men of Hogsmeade all realize they're now stuck hanging out at Madam Puddifoot's when the Hog's Head gets closed due to health code violations. Madam Rosmerta may be stacked and not putting out (I suspect it's because she likes the snatch, and you can't blame a hot bitch for that), but the closing of the Three Broomsticks is a far more terrible fate than coping with her unavailability for sex.
-Harry gets so sick of hearing about how he has his mother's eyes that he gets purple colored contacts. He goes back to the glasses once he realizes how fucking stupid and unnatural he looks.
-Snape reveals that he's not on anyone's side, and that he killed Dumbledore to get back at him for refusing to promote him out of the Potions dungeon for all those years. Then he moves to Capri and forces Draco Malfoy to swim around naked with him all the time like one of Tiberius's minnows. Consequent to his depraved instincts and the ensuing years of sexual abuse, Draco grows up to be the wizarding world's equivalent of Caligula.
These are just the main predictions I've made. I've got a lot more that I will spare you, because they are indicative of the depth to which my Harry Potter insane nerdiness goes. What it all comes down to is that I couldn't handle reading the leaked part of the book if it just skipped to the big finish without proving to me how right I am about what's going to happen. Besides, reading the end of a book without the rest is like an orgasm without the preceding sex. It's fine and enjoyable, but it would be better with a little context. So fuck the leaked Harry Potter...the wait will make the pleasure of the real thing all the more enjoyable.
I was initially alarmed, because I didn't want to download a leaked copy only to find out that it's just the end of the book. As tempted as I am to find out who dies (please, God, don't let it be hot-ass Hermione...she's too smart to die!), I don't want to read the end of the book until I've read the previous seven hundred odd pages. I've got to know how Harry manages to find and destroy all of Voldemort's other Horcruxes first! Besides, I've also made my predictions about what's going to happen in this book, and I have to see every last one validated. These predictions are as follows:
-Harry realizes that Kreacher is hoarding the locket Horcrux stolen by R.A.B.--aka Regulus Black--right under his nose in the damn Hogwarts kitchen, and then breaks his usual tradition of tolerating how fucking annoying house elves are by shoving his holly and phoenix feather wand straight up that godfather-betraying, mudblood-hating bigot's ass.
-Hermione finally gets it on with Ron Weasley, a scene which, given how long the sexual tension has been building between those two, will probably result in them having dirty, ass-smacking, furniture-toppling, owl-mediated ruckus-causing, back-scratching, hematoma-inducing, shrieking orgasm-producing sex on top of Ron's Chudley Cannons bedspread back at the Burrow while Harry, Ginny, and whichever other Weasleys are around are out helping Mrs. Weasley degnome the garden.
-Petunia Dursley finds out she also has magical powers, is nearly killed by Uncle Vernon who fears the neighbors will find out, escapes on the Knight Bus, and finds solace at Hogwarts, where she is appointed the most incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in the school's millenium-long history.
-Voldemort storms the Ministry of Magic with a shitload of giants and dementors, and Percy Weasley dies fleeing like the pussy he is. Rufus Scrimgeour then conspires with Rita Skeeter to figure out a way to blame it all on Harry.
-Neville Longbottom gets offed by a well-placed Avada Kedavre curse performed by Narcissa Malfoy (because Draco was supposed to do it, but once again got cold feet), but not before he takes out Bellatrix Lestrange and avenges the permanent catatonic state she put his parents into by torturing them with the Cruciatus Curse. He manages to kill her by harnessing his adept skills at herbology and feeding her to the Venemous Tentacula in Hogwarts greenhouse three, Little Shop of Horrors style.
-Bill Weasley turns into a werewolf on his wedding night and bites the shit out of his irritating French bride Fleur. She survives, and thanks to her Veela heritage, is the most alluring werewolf ever.
-Hagrid dies. Homeboy can hold his own with dragons, acromantulas, hippogriffs, blast-ended skrewts, and giants, but his pink umbrella/covert broken wand is no match for the Imperius Curse placed on him by the former Ministry executioner MacNair that makes him stroll into the Forbidden Forest and stand still while talking mad shit to the angry Centaurs living in there.
-Harry, after spitting some seriously Schwarzenegger-esque vengeance-themed smack talk in Parseltongue to Voldemort's snake (and probable Horcrux) Nagini, kills her, turns her into an extremely pimped-out set of boots, and suddenly is the most popular piece of ass at Hogwarts in spite of the fact that practically everyone he knows ends up dead.
-Tonks discovers that werewolvery, like most blood-borne diseases, can be spread in other ways besides biting when she and Remus Lupin do the nasty in the coat closet at number twelve, Grimmauld Place after a particularly late, oak-matured mead-saturated Order of the Phoenix meeting. She and Fleur start a support group for women who have been infected with an incurable chronic disease by their male partners.
-Madam Rosmerta gets sent to Azkaban, not because she tried to deliver the cursed necklace or the poisoned mead to Dumbledore (she was Imperiused by Malfoy, so that's excusable), but because she's such a damn cocktease that finally the men of Hogsmeade had enough and successfully lobbied the Wizengamot to convict her on the basis of being too sexually distracting to be legal. She is, however, released after the men of Hogsmeade all realize they're now stuck hanging out at Madam Puddifoot's when the Hog's Head gets closed due to health code violations. Madam Rosmerta may be stacked and not putting out (I suspect it's because she likes the snatch, and you can't blame a hot bitch for that), but the closing of the Three Broomsticks is a far more terrible fate than coping with her unavailability for sex.
-Harry gets so sick of hearing about how he has his mother's eyes that he gets purple colored contacts. He goes back to the glasses once he realizes how fucking stupid and unnatural he looks.
-Snape reveals that he's not on anyone's side, and that he killed Dumbledore to get back at him for refusing to promote him out of the Potions dungeon for all those years. Then he moves to Capri and forces Draco Malfoy to swim around naked with him all the time like one of Tiberius's minnows. Consequent to his depraved instincts and the ensuing years of sexual abuse, Draco grows up to be the wizarding world's equivalent of Caligula.
These are just the main predictions I've made. I've got a lot more that I will spare you, because they are indicative of the depth to which my Harry Potter insane nerdiness goes. What it all comes down to is that I couldn't handle reading the leaked part of the book if it just skipped to the big finish without proving to me how right I am about what's going to happen. Besides, reading the end of a book without the rest is like an orgasm without the preceding sex. It's fine and enjoyable, but it would be better with a little context. So fuck the leaked Harry Potter...the wait will make the pleasure of the real thing all the more enjoyable.
Labels: Harry Potter, I LOVE IT, librophilia, Razzification
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Hermione Granger
DOB: September 19, 1979
Occupation: Student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hometown: Somewhere in England
Current Residence: Hogwarts, also somewhere in England
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: For obvious reasons, I love Hermione and feel her more deeply than any other character in Harry Potter. Look at her in that picture up there, mixing her Polyjuice Potion very seriously, just like I mix up buffers or mouse organ homogenates or PCR reactions in lab! She's such an unrepentant brainiac that I can't help but feel an abiding sense of camaraderie with her character. When I was watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone with MillerTime awhile back, and Hermione was raising her hand in class so emphatically that it looked like she might pass out in order to demonstrate her knowledge, Miller Time elbowed me and quipped, "There's you, Razzy." It's true. I too felt the driving need to show everyone how fucking smart I was all the time when I was in school and was always raising my hand (except in math class). My eighth grade teacher Mrs. Dixon actually discouraged me from raising my hand because I answered too many questions. "Can someone BESIDES Razzy explain this passage from The Pearl, please?" she would say. I still resent her to this day for trying to embarrass me for being smarter and/or bolder about being a know-it-all than my classmates. I was, however, vindicated when I found an essay I'd written for her class and noticed that she'd corrected me for using "they're" meaning "they are" by saying that "their" was more appropriate. WRONG, bitch! It looks like the student just became the teacher! I win again. Anyway, Hermione is constantly reading and will go to any length to prove how fucking right about everything she is, and those are priorities I admire.
In spite of using her intellectual bravado to compensate for her fear of failure and feelings of inadequacy (like me as well, but don't tell anyone) and her consequent tendency to unwittingly alienate people, Hermione has a good heart and is fierce in her convictions. In high school, I too would probably have been championing house elf rights despite a complete lack of interest in the matter from my peers. Now I'd just tell the elves to go make me a BLT and clean up my apartment, and I suspect that, if she doesn't die in book 7, Hermione will grow to accept the inherently servile nature of the house elf too. As a commendable rational thinker, she'll realize that there are bigger fish (ie: Voldemort) to fry than those who casually oppress house elves (who want to be oppressed in the first place). I started a club in high school called the Society for Women's Advancement (SWA), which was much like Hermione's Society for the Preservation of Elvish Welfare (SPEW): stupid name, uninspiring agenda, and with a very, very spare membership roster. As pointless as SPEW is, I love that Hermione doggedly sticks to it, if only because she always finishes what she starts and hates being wrong.
Like me, Hermione is also "plain but ambitious," but doesn't let that stand in the way of breaking hearts all over Hogwarts. So far she's already snogged the studly Seeker Viktor Krum of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team, and had a brief dalliance with obnoxious fucktard Cormac McLaggen in Gryffindor (although that was just to make Ron Weasley jealous). It's almost a certainty than in book 7 she's going to start getting it on with Ron in a major way. With six years of sexual tension preceding their hookup, I'm betting they at least make it to second best (it's probably too much to hope that in book 7, Ron does Hermione in a reverse piledriver in the prefects' bathroom, although that would be hot). Given all her reading, I bet Hermione's picked up some magical sex tips in the Restricted Section of the library and is therefore a tiger in the sack. Or at least she stumbled across an Anais Nin book or something during summer holiday while she was kicking it at the Muggle library. In any event, Hermione is getting her choice of ass in spite of her not being a renowned beauty like Fleur Delacoeur, and for that I relate to and commend her.
Another reason Hermione is like me is this:
Labels: alcoholism, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, epic geekery, Harry Potter, hot chicks, Razzification
Monday, July 09, 2007
Only a fortnight...
...until Daniel Radcliffe, AKA Harry Potter, stops being really kewl and starts being really legal! He turns 18 on July 23, just in time to do things he likes, like banging groupies and posing shirtless in front of his serial killer photo wall:
I don't care if that picture of his weiner from way back was a fake, and I don't care if he looks a little like if Elijah Wood were hanging out at that gay leather bar from the Police Academy movies that clever Cadet Mahoney would always trick his archnemeses Lieutenants Mauser, Harris, and Proctor into stumbling into (the Blue Oyster, I believe it was called).
He's a little scrawny, and I'm not loving the pube-goatee, but I don't care. I also don't care that he's been doing a bunch of girls his age and not old (and experienced) sluts like myself. Just because he's used to the kitten doesn't mean he's not curious about the cougar! Now, I've just got to figure out how to get to London.
Labels: Harry Potter, hot dudes, kewlness, perversion
Sunday, June 24, 2007
The rebellion is incorrectly styled
I could not be more excited because as ads all over bus shelters and subway platforms everywhere are informing me that THE REBELLION BEGINS on July 11!
Man, this is awesome, even though it means watching Harry Potter be a whining, antagonistic, angst-filled teenager for two hours. In the book, Harry was completely intolerable on account of being a typical 15-year-old: temperamental, moody, easily provoked, irrational, and full of piss and vinegar. I suppose it's probably realistic and fair to expect this sort of behavior from Harry, given that he's not only a teenager with raging hormones and what-have-you, but at the end of book four he watched Cedric Diggory get avada kedavre-d by the recently restored to his body Lord Voldemort, barely escaped the same fate himself thanks to a fortuitous use of his favorite Disarming Spell Expelliarmus and the subsequent even-more-fortuitous reverse spell effect on account of his and the Dark Lord's wands having the same phoenix feather core from Dumbledore's pet Fawkes, and then suffering a blitz of bad press suggesting that he's an attention-seeking media whore with a brain-addling scar. By contrast, when I was fifteen and acting like the world's biggest asshole, it was because my dumb ex-girlfriend cheated on and then dumped me and I developed an unhealthy fixation with suicide. I guess Harry Potter's excuse is better than mine was, but nonetheless, his "Boo hoo, nobody understands me, and I'm even going to be an asshole to Ron and Hermione because I have no other outlet for my misplaced rage" routine gets old FAST.
However, I still spent a bunch of time checking out all the screen shots and other assorted Harry Potter geek bullshit at the movie's official site, as well as a bunch of even dorkier fan sites. Sadly, it appears that there will be no full-frontal nude shots of Harry in this film (I can't imagine why). Also, I'm a little unhappy with some of the casting choices. For starters, casting Helena Bonham Carter as Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange.
I always pictured Bellatrix as having straight hair and being way hotter than this cooch. I'm having the same problems with her as I had with the casting of Gary Oldman as Sirius Black. I realize they're both supposed to look busted from over a decade of having the happiness sucked out of them by the dementors of Azkaban, but they're still both supposed to retain some vestiges of their pre-imprisonment hotness. Sirius Black would have been better played by Clive Owen, who could still pull off looking damaged and beaten down while reminding us why he'd lay waste Professor McGonagall and Peter Pettigrew in the UK's Hottest Animagus Ever contest (if such a thing existed). At least Gary Oldman can pull off crazy and rash, which is also important for Sirius. Helena Bonham Carter, on the other hand, looks like some kind of vampire whore with a bad spiral perm. She should be humping Vince Neil's vinyl-covered leg in a vintage Motley Crue video, not concocting elaborate ruses based on Harry's love for Sirius and his unwillingness to pay attention during Snape's Occlumency lessons to trick Harry and his DA loyalists into retrieving the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. They should have shelled out for Cate Blanchett to dye her hair black and do Bellatrix; it would have been better acting and a better look than Helena, who is basically just Britishing up her signature tough but ridiculously needy goth bitch character.
Another bad casting choice is this hooker playing the goofy auror Nymphadora Tonks. According to the book, Tonks is cheerful, clumsy, and has a short, butchy haircut that is either bright purple or bubble-gum pink depending on her mood. She favors Weird Sisters shirts (the Ramones of the Wizarding world) over the standard Wizarding robes. Tonks is also always doing funny shit for laughs in book 5 (she spends most of book 6 pining away for Remus Lupin and consequently is a real drag to be around), like using her talents as a Metamorphmagus to replace her nose with a pig snout and stuff like that. They seriously should have gotten some comedienne to play Tonks, but instead they dug up this hooker:
Where did they find this brooding lezbot, Smith College? She looks like she's just finished overusing the phrases "like, that is so wrong" and "I feel that as a..." at a heated women's studies discussion panel and is on her way to perform a bunch of bad Indigo Girls covers with the Smiffenpoofs at the annual Smith acapella group sing-off. I can just imagine this ho raising her hand in some humanities (let's say for fun that it's "History of the Roman Empire") class and saying, "As an alternative-hair-colored daughter of a commodities trader from Connecticut who likes to sail, I feel that Caligula was probably just misunderstood and it's discriminatory to categorize him as a tyrant, he was a pioneer who fought for women's empowerment, just ask his sister Drusilla" or "As a recently-professed non-sex-having lesbian with a boobmashing partner on the rugby team, I feel that Messalina's nymphomania was fiction created to disparage her, since she was obviously a strong womyn-loving-womyn threatening the patriarchal Roman paradigm." This chick looks like she belongs in some sort of confusing clusterfuck performance art piece with the Dead Gays, while Tonks should be winking at people all the time and saying "Wotcher," whatever that means. BAD CASTING CHOICE!
Finally, I was looking at the poster and I was like, "Who is that hot blonde chick?" I identified every other character. There's Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Cho Chang...and who the fuck is that blonde chick? Then it hit me...THAT'S LUNA LOVEGOOD! I'm sorry, but this ho playing Luna is too hot and not even remotely crazy enough to pull off Looney Lovegood:
Luna is supposed to have stringy, dishevelled, dishwater blonde hair and a penchant for accessorizing with radish earrings and necklaces made out of butterbeer corks. She's supposed to be weird-looking and even weirder acting. This girl, however, looks like she's got all the boys at Hogwarts in a dead swoon on account of looking like a proto-porn star. Actually, all three of these chicks look like the Plastics from Mean Girls, and the only one of them who is supposed to be conventionally good looking is Cho Chang. Cho Chang is hot (and check out the ass on her!), but she also gives some serious dominatrix face, and I recall Cho spending most of book 5 crying and being confused. Hermione's look is also a problem, and I hate to criticize Hermione. I identify with Hermione more than any other character (duh), as she's always so eager to show off her smarts that she blurts out answers in class and practically jumps out of her chair raising her hand, she likes to play the field when it comes to boys, she always has her nose in a book, she's intolerant of stupidity and always has a waspish retort for idiotic statements or queries, she's extremely passionate about her beliefs, she doesn't take any bullshit, her vengeance is merciless, and she is not the prettiest girl but works with what she's got. I AM Hermione, or at least her American Muggle counterpart. Because of how deeply I feel Hermione, I have to point out that the movie stylists spent WAY too much time fixing her fucking hair! That shit is supposed to look like birds nest in it!
Of course all this isn't going to stop me from getting my geek on and suffering the presence of thousands of horrible, screaming children at the movie theater on July 11th, but it bugs me nonetheless and will continue to do so. I still haven't gotten over the Gary Oldman-as-Sirius Black thing and that's from two movies ago. Hopefully, the actress playing Dolores Umbridge will be horrible enough (despite not being fat enough) to distract me from all the inconsistencies that I tend to dwell on. At least the trailer is dope enough to make me hyperventilate more than just a little with excitement:
P.S. To everyone who seems to have taken a new interest in this post I wrote last December about how Harry Potter should not have anal sex with Draco Malfoy, YES, dumbasses, I KNOW it's Photoshopped and I did not think it's going into this movie, nor did I think it was approved by J.K. Rowling or Warner Brothers, nor did I think it was anything but a stupid picture that some geek with too much time on their hands made for shits and giggles. I do not expect some kind of gay sex plot twist to occur in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so quit e-mailing and commenting shit like "loLz, that picture's fake" or "you must be very stupid not to realize that's Photoshop" or passing on your fan fiction recommendations. I KNOW IT'S FAKE! Everyone who calls me stupid should stop congratulating themselves on their superior intellect and take a look in the mirror, because I'd argue that you're not exactly Nobel laureate material if you think I'm always serious when I profess my site to be 100% useless bullshit.
However, I still spent a bunch of time checking out all the screen shots and other assorted Harry Potter geek bullshit at the movie's official site, as well as a bunch of even dorkier fan sites. Sadly, it appears that there will be no full-frontal nude shots of Harry in this film (I can't imagine why). Also, I'm a little unhappy with some of the casting choices. For starters, casting Helena Bonham Carter as Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange.
Another bad casting choice is this hooker playing the goofy auror Nymphadora Tonks. According to the book, Tonks is cheerful, clumsy, and has a short, butchy haircut that is either bright purple or bubble-gum pink depending on her mood. She favors Weird Sisters shirts (the Ramones of the Wizarding world) over the standard Wizarding robes. Tonks is also always doing funny shit for laughs in book 5 (she spends most of book 6 pining away for Remus Lupin and consequently is a real drag to be around), like using her talents as a Metamorphmagus to replace her nose with a pig snout and stuff like that. They seriously should have gotten some comedienne to play Tonks, but instead they dug up this hooker:
Where did they find this brooding lezbot, Smith College? She looks like she's just finished overusing the phrases "like, that is so wrong" and "I feel that as a..." at a heated women's studies discussion panel and is on her way to perform a bunch of bad Indigo Girls covers with the Smiffenpoofs at the annual Smith acapella group sing-off. I can just imagine this ho raising her hand in some humanities (let's say for fun that it's "History of the Roman Empire") class and saying, "As an alternative-hair-colored daughter of a commodities trader from Connecticut who likes to sail, I feel that Caligula was probably just misunderstood and it's discriminatory to categorize him as a tyrant, he was a pioneer who fought for women's empowerment, just ask his sister Drusilla" or "As a recently-professed non-sex-having lesbian with a boobmashing partner on the rugby team, I feel that Messalina's nymphomania was fiction created to disparage her, since she was obviously a strong womyn-loving-womyn threatening the patriarchal Roman paradigm." This chick looks like she belongs in some sort of confusing clusterfuck performance art piece with the Dead Gays, while Tonks should be winking at people all the time and saying "Wotcher," whatever that means. BAD CASTING CHOICE!
Finally, I was looking at the poster and I was like, "Who is that hot blonde chick?" I identified every other character. There's Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Cho Chang...and who the fuck is that blonde chick? Then it hit me...THAT'S LUNA LOVEGOOD! I'm sorry, but this ho playing Luna is too hot and not even remotely crazy enough to pull off Looney Lovegood:
Luna is supposed to have stringy, dishevelled, dishwater blonde hair and a penchant for accessorizing with radish earrings and necklaces made out of butterbeer corks. She's supposed to be weird-looking and even weirder acting. This girl, however, looks like she's got all the boys at Hogwarts in a dead swoon on account of looking like a proto-porn star. Actually, all three of these chicks look like the Plastics from Mean Girls, and the only one of them who is supposed to be conventionally good looking is Cho Chang. Cho Chang is hot (and check out the ass on her!), but she also gives some serious dominatrix face, and I recall Cho spending most of book 5 crying and being confused. Hermione's look is also a problem, and I hate to criticize Hermione. I identify with Hermione more than any other character (duh), as she's always so eager to show off her smarts that she blurts out answers in class and practically jumps out of her chair raising her hand, she likes to play the field when it comes to boys, she always has her nose in a book, she's intolerant of stupidity and always has a waspish retort for idiotic statements or queries, she's extremely passionate about her beliefs, she doesn't take any bullshit, her vengeance is merciless, and she is not the prettiest girl but works with what she's got. I AM Hermione, or at least her American Muggle counterpart. Because of how deeply I feel Hermione, I have to point out that the movie stylists spent WAY too much time fixing her fucking hair! That shit is supposed to look like birds nest in it!
Of course all this isn't going to stop me from getting my geek on and suffering the presence of thousands of horrible, screaming children at the movie theater on July 11th, but it bugs me nonetheless and will continue to do so. I still haven't gotten over the Gary Oldman-as-Sirius Black thing and that's from two movies ago. Hopefully, the actress playing Dolores Umbridge will be horrible enough (despite not being fat enough) to distract me from all the inconsistencies that I tend to dwell on. At least the trailer is dope enough to make me hyperventilate more than just a little with excitement:
P.S. To everyone who seems to have taken a new interest in this post I wrote last December about how Harry Potter should not have anal sex with Draco Malfoy, YES, dumbasses, I KNOW it's Photoshopped and I did not think it's going into this movie, nor did I think it was approved by J.K. Rowling or Warner Brothers, nor did I think it was anything but a stupid picture that some geek with too much time on their hands made for shits and giggles. I do not expect some kind of gay sex plot twist to occur in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so quit e-mailing and commenting shit like "loLz, that picture's fake" or "you must be very stupid not to realize that's Photoshop" or passing on your fan fiction recommendations. I KNOW IT'S FAKE! Everyone who calls me stupid should stop congratulating themselves on their superior intellect and take a look in the mirror, because I'd argue that you're not exactly Nobel laureate material if you think I'm always serious when I profess my site to be 100% useless bullshit.
Labels: Dumb Smith bitches, epic geekery, Harry Potter, movies, nerd alert, ranting, Razzification
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Harry Potter is kewl
I've never had any desire to put up kiddie porn on my website. For one thing, I hate kids, so why on earth would I want to look at pictures of them doing anything, much less getting sexy? Also, even more than kids, I hate pervertedly criminal morons, like the sex offenders in my neighborhood and the many dumbasses caught on tape during the awesomeness known as Dateline NBC "To Catch a Predator." I never thought I'd even consider amending my "no kiddie porn" policy, much less actually do so.
After much torment and agonizing internal debate, I decided to make an exception for photos I found of the FULL FRONTAL NAKED Daniel "Harry Potter" Radcliffe, who as I have already mentioned, is growing up into quite the fox. In my defense, he'll be 18 in five short months, so he's almost legal. Also, this picture is being distributed all over the internet as promotional material for his West End revival of Equus. Since he's stripping down and wagging his pecker around to the London theater crowd, it's not like I'm the only adult saying "daaaaaamn" about Harry Potter frolicking around in his birthday suit. The pretentious fucks who go see this live on stage cover up their perverted naked-Harry-Potter thoughts by calling it art. This is making the rounds on ALL the gossip blogs, so if it's kiddie porn, then go after Perez Hilton and all 5 million of his readers too. Are you listening, people at Perverted-Justice.com getting ready to look me up on MySpace and attempt to entrap me via poorly spelled, incomprehensible acronym-filled correspondence? I'm not sending his underage ass any instant messages or masturbating for him via webcam or offering to bring him some Zima in exchange for oral at his absent parents' house, so don't send Chris Hansen to castigate me.
Now that I've said my I'm-not-a-child-pornographer disclaimer, take a gander at Harry Potter's uncircumcised weiner!
Holy shit! The boy has some girth. And the length appears adequate too, and he's not even hard! Granted, it's not eleven inches of holly with a phoenix feather core, but whose wand really is? I'm impressed. I'm also glad to know that the guy portraying The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, and the most legendary adversary of You-Know-Who and his loyal depraved Death Eaters has got a healthy-sized dick and isn't afraid to rock out with his cock out. Since he's eventually going to take on the dark wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle in mortal combat, he's going to need a big dick to help keep his confidence up when he's trading hexes with Lord Voldemort. Can a blonde, alcoholic, science-geek Muggle get a piece of that action?
And if the self-assured, yeah-I-know-my-prick-is-nice attitude wasn't appealing enough, he's totally a bad boy. Here he is, unshaven and probably relaxing in an interview talking about his challenging new role of baring it all on stage before he does some chick and blinds all her horses.
He smokes! Even though he's not old enough to legally purchase a pack of fags, he's contentedly puffing away on what I like to imagine is a Marlboro Red (although it's probably a fucking Dunhill or whatever British people smoke). Whether he smokes cowboy killers or not, and despite the distractingly hideous sleeve and collar striping on that busted polo shirt, I suddenly have the hots for Daniel Radcliffe in a big way. Dude is going on the Hot Jews list ASAP.
Turn 18 already, Harry!
After much torment and agonizing internal debate, I decided to make an exception for photos I found of the FULL FRONTAL NAKED Daniel "Harry Potter" Radcliffe, who as I have already mentioned, is growing up into quite the fox. In my defense, he'll be 18 in five short months, so he's almost legal. Also, this picture is being distributed all over the internet as promotional material for his West End revival of Equus. Since he's stripping down and wagging his pecker around to the London theater crowd, it's not like I'm the only adult saying "daaaaaamn" about Harry Potter frolicking around in his birthday suit. The pretentious fucks who go see this live on stage cover up their perverted naked-Harry-Potter thoughts by calling it art. This is making the rounds on ALL the gossip blogs, so if it's kiddie porn, then go after Perez Hilton and all 5 million of his readers too. Are you listening, people at Perverted-Justice.com getting ready to look me up on MySpace and attempt to entrap me via poorly spelled, incomprehensible acronym-filled correspondence? I'm not sending his underage ass any instant messages or masturbating for him via webcam or offering to bring him some Zima in exchange for oral at his absent parents' house, so don't send Chris Hansen to castigate me.
Now that I've said my I'm-not-a-child-pornographer disclaimer, take a gander at Harry Potter's uncircumcised weiner!
Holy shit! The boy has some girth. And the length appears adequate too, and he's not even hard! Granted, it's not eleven inches of holly with a phoenix feather core, but whose wand really is? I'm impressed. I'm also glad to know that the guy portraying The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, and the most legendary adversary of You-Know-Who and his loyal depraved Death Eaters has got a healthy-sized dick and isn't afraid to rock out with his cock out. Since he's eventually going to take on the dark wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle in mortal combat, he's going to need a big dick to help keep his confidence up when he's trading hexes with Lord Voldemort. Can a blonde, alcoholic, science-geek Muggle get a piece of that action?
And if the self-assured, yeah-I-know-my-prick-is-nice attitude wasn't appealing enough, he's totally a bad boy. Here he is, unshaven and probably relaxing in an interview talking about his challenging new role of baring it all on stage before he does some chick and blinds all her horses.
Turn 18 already, Harry!
Labels: celebrities, Harry Potter, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, kewlness, perversion, sex, weiners
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Looking good, Harry!
I don't pay attention to what's hot at the theatre but maybe I should. Apparently in London they are reviving this play Equus, which is about some kid who needs therapy because he's obsessed with horses. It's starring Daniel Radcliffe, better known as Harry Potter, and while I was initially taken aback because it requires him to drop trou and go full nude onstage, I have to say that after seeing the promotional pictures, this plan gets my full approval.
Obviously, dude has not been sitting on his laurels in between the filming of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, because DAAAMN! Harry Potter's got himself some abs! Certainly he looks hotter in his role as naked equine enthusiast than in his Gryffindor wizarding robes. I'd say that I'd hit that if he weren't seventeen and thus my wanting to hit that would make me a perverted creep. (However, being that I'm getting all steamed up over a picture of a minor who presumably is going to commit what would be a crime in the P-N-Dub with the above nag, that ship may have already sailed.)
A reader pointed out to me via e-mail that it was a "major oversight" on my part having excluded young master Radcliffe from the Hot Jews list. At first I thought, "Oh, he's Jewish?" Then I thought, "Naaah, he's like a little kid. Kids don't go on any list of mine unless it's the 'to kill' list." Now, however, I'm thinking of making an exception for Harry Potter here, because he is a slice of some barely illegal hotness. According to IMDB, he turns 18 in July. Maybe a summer vacay in the UK is in order...
A reader pointed out to me via e-mail that it was a "major oversight" on my part having excluded young master Radcliffe from the Hot Jews list. At first I thought, "Oh, he's Jewish?" Then I thought, "Naaah, he's like a little kid. Kids don't go on any list of mine unless it's the 'to kill' list." Now, however, I'm thinking of making an exception for Harry Potter here, because he is a slice of some barely illegal hotness. According to IMDB, he turns 18 in July. Maybe a summer vacay in the UK is in order...
Labels: bestiality, celebrities, Harry Potter, hot dudes, kewlness, perversion, sex
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Gryffindors do NOT bang Slytherins!
I have been dicking around my parents' house all morning, reading my books about serial killers, trying to keep Chingy! from sleeping in my open suitcase (which, since arriving in the P-N-Dub, he has appropriated as a bassinet of sorts) and getting his barbed little hairs all over my clothes, and prowling the net for useless bullshit to write about. I was excited to see that J.K. Rowling has released the title for the seventh and final installment of the Harry Potter series.
I am a HUGE Harry Potter geek. I fucking love these books and I've read them all countless times. Last night, I was having beers with Morrissey'sHair and Sexxxica, and we were talking about this one classmate of ours from high school who is very pompous. I was like, "You know who he reminds me of? Ernie MacMillen, the prefect from Hufflepuff house."
Morrissey'sHair gave me a look that plainly said, "Okay, well I've read Harry Potter, but not enough to remember descriptions of relatively minor characters, YOU FUCKING NERD, RAZZY." What he actually said was, "I don't remember who that is."
I then added that Ernie MacMillen was always characterized as being self-righteous, pompous, and oddly formal in his mannerisms, and reminded myself that not everyone is as hard-core of a Harry Potter nerd as myself. If you recall, in book 6 after Harry and Dumbledore overcome a mob of Inferi while trying to get Voldemort's locket Horcrux, they open the locket only to find that this is a fake Horcrux and the real one was stolen by someone with the initials R.A.B. Well, R.A.B. is obviously the late Sirius Black's brother Regulus, who was supposedly killed by Lord Voldemort for trying to quit the Death Eaters but REALLY was killed for stealing and destroying his Horcruxes. I can point out the part in book 5 where Harry, Ron, and Hermione throw out the REAL locket Horcrux in the course of cleaning centuries of accumulated magical crap at number twelve Grimmauld Place. I suspect this locket doesn't actually get thrown out, but is squirreled away by Kreacher the malevolent house elf. THAT is how much of a Harry Potter geek I am. The only other people who think about this kind of crap this much are probably masturbating to DVDs of "Farscape" right now.
Anyway, now that I've revealed the depths to which my Harry Potter obsession goes, I was thrilled to see that book seven is called Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I also immediately started fretting over whether Harry, Ron, or Hermione is going to die (you know one of them HAS to). Then, however, I stopped worrying about that when I saw this picture. Jesus H. Christ, why is Harry Potter sexually experimenting with a KNOWN FUCKING DEATH EATER???
I don't like the idea of naked Draco Malfoy spooning naked Harry Potter one bit. If the people making Harry Potter movies want to sex it up a notch, they could stick Harry between the sheets with Cho Chang or Ginny Weasley. Or better yet, Cho Chang AND Ginny Weasley. Or Ron and Hermione. Or Hermione and Viktor Krum. Even truly revolting images would be preferable, such as Professor McGonagall riding Dumbledore like a triple crown jockey, or Hagrid sucking off Buckbeak the Hippogriff, or Madam Hooch masturbating vigorously with a Nimbus 2000. Anything would be more acceptable than this. The Harry Potter I know and love wouldn't be caught dead with a Slytherin's dick in his ass, and I do NOT approve.
I am a HUGE Harry Potter geek. I fucking love these books and I've read them all countless times. Last night, I was having beers with Morrissey'sHair and Sexxxica, and we were talking about this one classmate of ours from high school who is very pompous. I was like, "You know who he reminds me of? Ernie MacMillen, the prefect from Hufflepuff house."
Morrissey'sHair gave me a look that plainly said, "Okay, well I've read Harry Potter, but not enough to remember descriptions of relatively minor characters, YOU FUCKING NERD, RAZZY." What he actually said was, "I don't remember who that is."
I then added that Ernie MacMillen was always characterized as being self-righteous, pompous, and oddly formal in his mannerisms, and reminded myself that not everyone is as hard-core of a Harry Potter nerd as myself. If you recall, in book 6 after Harry and Dumbledore overcome a mob of Inferi while trying to get Voldemort's locket Horcrux, they open the locket only to find that this is a fake Horcrux and the real one was stolen by someone with the initials R.A.B. Well, R.A.B. is obviously the late Sirius Black's brother Regulus, who was supposedly killed by Lord Voldemort for trying to quit the Death Eaters but REALLY was killed for stealing and destroying his Horcruxes. I can point out the part in book 5 where Harry, Ron, and Hermione throw out the REAL locket Horcrux in the course of cleaning centuries of accumulated magical crap at number twelve Grimmauld Place. I suspect this locket doesn't actually get thrown out, but is squirreled away by Kreacher the malevolent house elf. THAT is how much of a Harry Potter geek I am. The only other people who think about this kind of crap this much are probably masturbating to DVDs of "Farscape" right now.
Anyway, now that I've revealed the depths to which my Harry Potter obsession goes, I was thrilled to see that book seven is called Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I also immediately started fretting over whether Harry, Ron, or Hermione is going to die (you know one of them HAS to). Then, however, I stopped worrying about that when I saw this picture. Jesus H. Christ, why is Harry Potter sexually experimenting with a KNOWN FUCKING DEATH EATER???
I don't like the idea of naked Draco Malfoy spooning naked Harry Potter one bit. If the people making Harry Potter movies want to sex it up a notch, they could stick Harry between the sheets with Cho Chang or Ginny Weasley. Or better yet, Cho Chang AND Ginny Weasley. Or Ron and Hermione. Or Hermione and Viktor Krum. Even truly revolting images would be preferable, such as Professor McGonagall riding Dumbledore like a triple crown jockey, or Hagrid sucking off Buckbeak the Hippogriff, or Madam Hooch masturbating vigorously with a Nimbus 2000. Anything would be more acceptable than this. The Harry Potter I know and love wouldn't be caught dead with a Slytherin's dick in his ass, and I do NOT approve.
Labels: epic geekery, Harry Potter, librophilia, scathing indictments
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Empirical evidence that Harry Potter is NOT SATAN
My boy Harry Potter gets a lot of grief, and I don't think it's fair. He already has to deal with being orphaned, witnessing the deaths of two important father figures, fucked with repeatedly by the press, relationship drama with Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley, and being destined for an inevitable kill-or-be-killed (with humanity hanging in the balance) situation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Lord Voldemort, but on top of that, millions of devout Christians seem to think he's in league with Satan himself and will talk shit about it to anyone who will listen.
For a long time, I thought these types of "Harry Potter practices witchcraft and should be sent to hell despite the fact that he's a fictional character in a fictional series of books" people were those likely to be found in my Aunt Jesus's creationist study circle. Unfortunately, it seems that Harry Potter bashing has been embraced by my peeps at the Vatican. In fact, the Pope's official exorcist placed the Boy Who Lived squarely in Satan's corner, telling the London Daily Mail that "behind Harry Potter hides the signature of the king of darkness, the devil." Apparently this was a follow-up to some shit-talking done last year by our Beloved Holiest and Most Apostolic Pontiff Benedict XVI, who called Harry Potter a "corrupting influence."
What the fuck?! According to Benedixteen, it's okay to rock Prada shoes and Gucci sunglasses, symbols of luxury and affluence while at the same time decrying the commercialization of the Christmas holiday and publishing encyclicals about charity and love. However, it's NOT okay to read a fucking book that claims outright to be a work of fiction? I realize that prior to becoming pope, Benedixteen (AKA John Ratzinger, not to be confused with John Ratzenberger, who played Cliff Claven on "Cheers") did hold the title of Chief of the Vatican Thought Police/Defender of the Doctrine. However, since when did Harry Potter threaten church doctrine? It's MADE UP, and if anything just underscores the general good vs. evil theme characteristic of many religions. For example, Harry only has the power to potentially defeat Lord Voldemort because of his ability to love others, and unless Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John have come back from the dead to revise their works, that's a pretty major theme of the fucking Gospels.
However, I take notice when the Vatican's chief "caster-out of demons" starts messing with HP for no apparent reason. The church hasn't been big on performing exorcisms lately, so I guess this guy has a lot of fucking time on his holy-ass hands, and only so much of that can be spent fondling altar boys. So I suppose he decided to create some work for himself by trashing HP, since over the past few years, I would imagine Harry Potter books sell as well if not better than the Bible. I still can't imagine how Harry Potter leads people to practice "witchcraft" or otherwise ignore God, but decided to put this to the scientific test.
If Harry Potter is a corrupting influence because it makes people believe in the power of magic over the power of JEE-saws Chrast, then presumably I should be able to harness that magical power for myself, albeit at the expense of my soul. If the magic in Harry Potter were just an imaginative trait as part of a fantasy story and not real, then it wouldn't be evil or otherwise competing with God's monopoly on miracles, right? Fortunately, I had the means to test this. First, I have my encyclopedic knowledge of the Harry Potter books, which I've read repeatedly (I won't say how many times because it's embarrassing). Second, I have this authentic Harry Potter wand:
Although it's constructed out of some type of plastic and electronics rather than holly and phoenix feather, the packaging says that it's officially licensed and "identical" to the wand Harry used in The Prisoner of Azkaban (and all other books/movies), so presumably it should be able to do anything Harry's wand could do. Unless of course I need to deflect Lord Voldemort's killing curse with "Expelliarmus", in which case I'm fucked, because you have to have the same phoenix feather in the wand to achieve the reverse spell effect which saved Harry's ass in The Goblet of Fire, but since I doubt I'll run into You Know Who during this experiment, whatever. Anyway, if the Vatican is to be believed, I should be able to use this wand to perform evil, Satanic magic straight from the nefarious pages of Harry Potter.
I decided to start simple. I obtained a pile of the crushed shards of my old glasses, which I've kept for some reason despite Chingy! chewing them to pieces several months ago. I pointed the wand at them and said forcefully, "Oculus reparo!" Nothing. Although the scientist should approach experiments without judgment, merely observing the data, I secretly hoped this would work, as it would at the very least save me lots of money at the optometrist.
Then I remembered that "oculus reparo" was a charm used by Hermione, not Harry. Maybe I would have to employ a spell that Harry had used in the books for the magic to work. So I decided to perform a summoning charm direct from HP:GoF. "Accio broom!" I shouted, pointing my wand at the Swiffer leaning against my kitchen wall. Rather than zooming through midair into my outstretched hand, the Swiffer stayed right where it was. "Accio Swiffer!" I tried again. Still no dice.
I thought then that since Harry Potter was supposedly evil, maybe I needed to use some evil spells. After all, the Dark Arts are really what this whole Vatican Muggles-vs. Harry Potter/Satan is about anyway. So I figured I'd try out the Unforgivable Curses, and use Chingy! as my guinea pig. First, I thought that putting him under the Imperius Curse would be really convenient. He'd never be able to disobey me, or pull on his leash, or destroy my personal belongings, or eat homeless guy shit ever again. I pointed the wand at him and said in the most menacing and evil tone I could muster, "Imperio!" Then in my mind I imagined Chingy! jumping off my bed, cooking me breakfast, doing my laundry, and cleaning my apartment.
Chingy! snored, and rolled over to achieve a more comfortable sleeping position. This angered me, so I decided to teach him a lesson. "Crucio!" I shouted, leaping at him and poking him with the wand. Rather than producing the Cruciatus Curse, which causes excruciating and torturous pain, Chingy! raised his head slightly and opened his eyes just a sliver to look irritably at the wand jabbing him in the ribs, then sneezed haughtily at me and went back to sleep. Despite my annoyance, I didn't want to try "avada kedavre", as I'd feel horrible if I somehow did manage to produce a killing curse on Chingy!, and even worse if it misfired and hit Caesar, who took notice of this experiment and decided that it would be fun to try and eat the wand I was pointing everywhere. I took that as a sign that pretending-to-be-Harry-Potter time was over, and I'd better get ready for work.
Anyway, the fucking exorcist Cardinals or whatever at the Vatican should be aware that I have put my own soul on the line to test the Satanic power of the magic in Harry Potter books, and came up magic free. I guess that either means I'm so damn holy and Christ-like that I'm incorruptible (don't laugh) or Harry Potter really is just a fictional character in a book and not the pawn of Lucifer. Since I am perpetually in doubt of my own sanctity, I'm going to go with the latter.
I know that the Vatican has a hard time changing its ways, but the Inquisition was over 500 years ago, and anyway, that attempt at suppressing perceived dissent pretty much blew up in our faces. There's a lot of other things the Church could worry about. How about AIDS or poverty? Hundreds of millions of people are suffering from those. Maybe they could take a lesson from their own history and tackle genocide and other egregious human rights violations. There are a number of countries to choose from where this is a problem, and any good deeds done by the Catholic church sure would go a long way toward wiping the egg off the Vatican's face about that whole Pius XII-looked-the-other-way-when-the-Nazis-deported-the-Jews-of-Rome-to-Auschwitz thing. Seriously, Holy See. You never saw JP Dos bitching about Harry Potter when he was Pope. He was busy doing much more important things, like watching breakdancers and fighting communism. Furthermore, you never saw Jesus himself worrying about this kind of banal stuff either. If the Pontiff saw Mel "I Hate Kikes" Gibson's Passion of the Caviezel, he would know that during the extended 90-minute cat o' nine tails torture scene, the last thing on Christ's mind was children's literature. Spend your time on real problems, Benedixteen, and leave Harry Potter alone.
For a long time, I thought these types of "Harry Potter practices witchcraft and should be sent to hell despite the fact that he's a fictional character in a fictional series of books" people were those likely to be found in my Aunt Jesus's creationist study circle. Unfortunately, it seems that Harry Potter bashing has been embraced by my peeps at the Vatican. In fact, the Pope's official exorcist placed the Boy Who Lived squarely in Satan's corner, telling the London Daily Mail that "behind Harry Potter hides the signature of the king of darkness, the devil." Apparently this was a follow-up to some shit-talking done last year by our Beloved Holiest and Most Apostolic Pontiff Benedict XVI, who called Harry Potter a "corrupting influence."
What the fuck?! According to Benedixteen, it's okay to rock Prada shoes and Gucci sunglasses, symbols of luxury and affluence while at the same time decrying the commercialization of the Christmas holiday and publishing encyclicals about charity and love. However, it's NOT okay to read a fucking book that claims outright to be a work of fiction? I realize that prior to becoming pope, Benedixteen (AKA John Ratzinger, not to be confused with John Ratzenberger, who played Cliff Claven on "Cheers") did hold the title of Chief of the Vatican Thought Police/Defender of the Doctrine. However, since when did Harry Potter threaten church doctrine? It's MADE UP, and if anything just underscores the general good vs. evil theme characteristic of many religions. For example, Harry only has the power to potentially defeat Lord Voldemort because of his ability to love others, and unless Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John have come back from the dead to revise their works, that's a pretty major theme of the fucking Gospels.
However, I take notice when the Vatican's chief "caster-out of demons" starts messing with HP for no apparent reason. The church hasn't been big on performing exorcisms lately, so I guess this guy has a lot of fucking time on his holy-ass hands, and only so much of that can be spent fondling altar boys. So I suppose he decided to create some work for himself by trashing HP, since over the past few years, I would imagine Harry Potter books sell as well if not better than the Bible. I still can't imagine how Harry Potter leads people to practice "witchcraft" or otherwise ignore God, but decided to put this to the scientific test.
If Harry Potter is a corrupting influence because it makes people believe in the power of magic over the power of JEE-saws Chrast, then presumably I should be able to harness that magical power for myself, albeit at the expense of my soul. If the magic in Harry Potter were just an imaginative trait as part of a fantasy story and not real, then it wouldn't be evil or otherwise competing with God's monopoly on miracles, right? Fortunately, I had the means to test this. First, I have my encyclopedic knowledge of the Harry Potter books, which I've read repeatedly (I won't say how many times because it's embarrassing). Second, I have this authentic Harry Potter wand:
I decided to start simple. I obtained a pile of the crushed shards of my old glasses, which I've kept for some reason despite Chingy! chewing them to pieces several months ago. I pointed the wand at them and said forcefully, "Oculus reparo!" Nothing. Although the scientist should approach experiments without judgment, merely observing the data, I secretly hoped this would work, as it would at the very least save me lots of money at the optometrist.
Then I remembered that "oculus reparo" was a charm used by Hermione, not Harry. Maybe I would have to employ a spell that Harry had used in the books for the magic to work. So I decided to perform a summoning charm direct from HP:GoF. "Accio broom!" I shouted, pointing my wand at the Swiffer leaning against my kitchen wall. Rather than zooming through midair into my outstretched hand, the Swiffer stayed right where it was. "Accio Swiffer!" I tried again. Still no dice.
I thought then that since Harry Potter was supposedly evil, maybe I needed to use some evil spells. After all, the Dark Arts are really what this whole Vatican Muggles-vs. Harry Potter/Satan is about anyway. So I figured I'd try out the Unforgivable Curses, and use Chingy! as my guinea pig. First, I thought that putting him under the Imperius Curse would be really convenient. He'd never be able to disobey me, or pull on his leash, or destroy my personal belongings, or eat homeless guy shit ever again. I pointed the wand at him and said in the most menacing and evil tone I could muster, "Imperio!" Then in my mind I imagined Chingy! jumping off my bed, cooking me breakfast, doing my laundry, and cleaning my apartment.
Chingy! snored, and rolled over to achieve a more comfortable sleeping position. This angered me, so I decided to teach him a lesson. "Crucio!" I shouted, leaping at him and poking him with the wand. Rather than producing the Cruciatus Curse, which causes excruciating and torturous pain, Chingy! raised his head slightly and opened his eyes just a sliver to look irritably at the wand jabbing him in the ribs, then sneezed haughtily at me and went back to sleep. Despite my annoyance, I didn't want to try "avada kedavre", as I'd feel horrible if I somehow did manage to produce a killing curse on Chingy!, and even worse if it misfired and hit Caesar, who took notice of this experiment and decided that it would be fun to try and eat the wand I was pointing everywhere. I took that as a sign that pretending-to-be-Harry-Potter time was over, and I'd better get ready for work.
Anyway, the fucking exorcist Cardinals or whatever at the Vatican should be aware that I have put my own soul on the line to test the Satanic power of the magic in Harry Potter books, and came up magic free. I guess that either means I'm so damn holy and Christ-like that I'm incorruptible (don't laugh) or Harry Potter really is just a fictional character in a book and not the pawn of Lucifer. Since I am perpetually in doubt of my own sanctity, I'm going to go with the latter.
I know that the Vatican has a hard time changing its ways, but the Inquisition was over 500 years ago, and anyway, that attempt at suppressing perceived dissent pretty much blew up in our faces. There's a lot of other things the Church could worry about. How about AIDS or poverty? Hundreds of millions of people are suffering from those. Maybe they could take a lesson from their own history and tackle genocide and other egregious human rights violations. There are a number of countries to choose from where this is a problem, and any good deeds done by the Catholic church sure would go a long way toward wiping the egg off the Vatican's face about that whole Pius XII-looked-the-other-way-when-the-Nazis-deported-the-Jews-of-Rome-to-Auschwitz thing. Seriously, Holy See. You never saw JP Dos bitching about Harry Potter when he was Pope. He was busy doing much more important things, like watching breakdancers and fighting communism. Furthermore, you never saw Jesus himself worrying about this kind of banal stuff either. If the Pontiff saw Mel "I Hate Kikes" Gibson's Passion of the Caviezel, he would know that during the extended 90-minute cat o' nine tails torture scene, the last thing on Christ's mind was children's literature. Spend your time on real problems, Benedixteen, and leave Harry Potter alone.
Labels: Harry Potter, science, vengeance is sweet
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