Monday, June 22, 2009
Happy 21st birthday to HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair
An unofficial holiday here at RAZZY.org is the birthday of my friends HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair. Apart from being acquainted for almost twenty years and being good friends and generally great guys, they were among the pioneering Razzyphiles. They have been avid consumers of useless bullshit since I put a damn Friendster bulletin up about trying out this website thing, which should tell you how long they've been tapping this awesomeness. I was glad that this year, on account of my moving back to the P-N-Dub, I was able to celebrate their special day in person.
In the past, I've always put up a picture of Morrissey since they are both big fans. Once Morrissey'sHair bailed on hanging out with me when I was visiting from New York because Morrissey was in town and he wanted to get up early and prowl places he thought Morrissey might go. However, this year, I feel that in all fairness to HotLawyer's changing tastes, I ought to put up a picture of William Leonard "Rick Ross" Roberts II to truly wish him a "bawse" birthday. Since Morrissey and the biggest boss I've seen thus far are incongruous to say the least, I am putting up a picture of Chingy! celebrating in his own way.
Yesterday morning I woke up and staggered blearily out of HotLawyer's suite at the W. My eye makeup was smeared, I was wearing a sparkly halter top with no bra and my nipples were definitely taking notice of the chilly morning, and I wasn't sure exactly where in downtown Seattle I was. I looked particularly classy doing my ho stroll walk of shame past all the wholesome people having Sunday breakfast and dressed in their church-type finery. As soon as I managed to hail a cab and get back home, I kicked off my shoes and went to change into something more pajama-like prior to walking the dogs. Chingy! took the opportunity to turn my uncomfortable, cheap, internet skank shoes into a pillow–or, more accurately, a jowl rest, which I'm pretty sure is his way of saying "CHONGAY CHONG, HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair!"
Anyway, although their birthday was actually yesterday, I wanted to once again acknowledge their unwavering Razzyphilia, commend them on their taste and sophistication, and thank them for their contributions in terms of enthusiasm and pro bono legal services. I heart you guys! BAWSE.
Labels: aging, HotLawyer, Morrissey'sHair, Razzyphiles
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
Friday, June 20, 2008
Happy birthday, Morrissey'sHair and HotLawyer!
I've made it a tradition to publicly acknowledge my friends Morrissey'sHair and HotLawyer's birthdays for the last couple years, because they were reading my site before ANY of my other friends when it was just a couple crappy movie reviews. They are the OG Titanium Elite-level Razzyphiles and that I must recognize. Plus, they're my boys and I get together with them lots whenever I'm home in the P-N-Dub. Here's some fun facts about them:
-They are appropriately Geminis, as they are twins
-Morrissey'sHair is older than HotLawyer by four minutes, just like Brandon and Brenda Walsh
-You can tell them apart because Morrissey'sHair broke his nose in junior high
-I totally boned one of them years ago (you can speculate as to which one). We were drunk. No harm, no foul!
-They are both lawyers. HotLawyer gets people off on DUIs and meth lab charges, while Morrissey'sHair negotiates bankruptcy settlements for the financially fucked
-HotLawyer has provided me with many pro boner legal services in the past whenever some fucktard threatens me with Craigslist rape or lawsuits
-Morrissey'sHair probably WILL have to provide me with pro boner legal services if I don't get out of grad school and start making some goddamned real money soon
-They both have a sickening devotion to Morrissey
-They once sent me a Rush Limbaugh book in high school from a "secret admirer" because I was such a bleeding heart neo-marxist feminazi lesbian back then. Now, they're both rabid Obama supporters and I'm a Republican. The tables have turned.
-My father LOVES them, especially HotLawyer, because of the praise they lavish on his cooking. When I mentioned I was coming home this summer for a visit, he asked, "So, what night are we having those guys over for dinner? HotLawyer sure does like my cooking."
-They're both hot studly dudes, great drankin patnaz, and totz kewl guys!
Anyway, their birthday is actually TOMORROW, but since stupid Apple has my computer somewhere in Texas while they fix it, I won't be able to post anything for them since I'll be getting drunk and sunburnt at the Coney Island Mermaid Parade all day. So today I'm recognizing that my fellas are turning the big 3-0! Only two more decades to go before they're officially over the hill.
Happy birthday, dudes. I'm going to get drunk and try to feel up some mermaid tits in your honor!
XOBJBS,
Razzy
And just for you two, here's a picture of Morrissey. Like Caese and Chingy!, he hates Iams dog food. Unlike Caese and Chingy!, it's probably because Iams isn't vegan or something. Caese and Chingy! are just Beneful loyalists.
Labels: aging, HotLawyer, Morrissey'sHair, Razzyphiles
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Dream OFF
You may recall an uncharacteristically girlish post I wrote a while back about a boy I liked, in which many Razzyphiles kindly provided lots of sound advice on how to deal with this situation. Of course, I didn't take any of that advice, and chose to just ignore the guy and hope that this brief bout of feelings would pass like a head cold. Frankly, I can't take a lot of that advice. Many people suggested I invite him somewhere for a date, which I just can't bear to do. Also, I was told to pretend I'm virtuous and not skanky, and not to sleep with him under any circumstances. Well, that's impossible since he already knows I'm skanky because I slept with him once a long time ago and our friendship developed after. Therefore, I just decided to get over it, because either he doesn't know how I feel or doesn't feel the same way, and I don't want to put myself out there in a most un-Razzified way, get shot down, feel like an idiot, and foment a permanent awkwardness between us. I'm not going to wait around for him to make a move, and I'm not going to make one myself, so it's better that I occupy my time with more productive pursuits. Besides, Morrissey'sHair gave me a stern Gchattig-to the other day, and it confirmed what I already knew: that this kind of bullshit is a waste of my time.
Razzy: i totally like this one guy
Razzy: but i'm so fucking idiotic about how to handle it
Razzy: i'm just pretending that he doesn't exist any more
Razzy: i suck at being coy and whatever the fuck girls are supposed to do to get a man
Razzy: for more than 1 night
Morrissey'sHair: you shouldn't be getting hung up on these dudes, Raz. They're not worth it
Razzy: i know
Razzy: i hardly ever do
Razzy: i just always pick the wrong guys
Morrissey'sHair: You, of all people, don' t need to date for the sake of dating
Razzy: well, i'm not dating for the sake of dating
Razzy: i really like this guy
Morrissey'sHair: being single is not the end of the world
Razzy: no, of course not
Razzy: duh
Morrissey'sHair: But I know that it feels lonely at times
Razzy: it does
Razzy: we have this incredibly ambiguous "friendship"
Razzy: (details omitted because they are too identifying and I would be mortified if this guy found out I was talking about him like this on my blog)
Morrissey'sHair: you don't need friends like that
Razzy: ugh i know
Razzy: he's SUCH a nerd too
Razzy: (more identifying details I'm omitting...I left the above nerd comment above there because it's an established fact that I have a big nerd fetish and I know many of them, so no big reveal there)
Morrissey'sHair: WTF? Kick this guy to the curb!
Morrissey'sHair: Who the fuck does he think he is?
Morrissey'sHair: You DO NOT need that in your life, Raz.
Anyway, in spite of LL Cool Jew saying that I shouldn't give up because this guy and I are perfect for each other, I'm more inclined to follow Morrissey'sHair's line of thinking. However compatible this guy and I may be in theory, it's not happening in reality and until it does, I don't need this bullshit in my life on top of everything else causing unnecessary stress about decidedly lame junior high issues like whether or not somebody "likes" me.
Too bad just when I was getting the hang of not "liking" this dumb guy, I went and had an incredibly vivid sex dream about him. In the dream we were swimming around at some beach resort-type place. Yes, I know that dream swimming means something sexual, and even if I didn't, I would have been clued into the significance of water when we wound up having way, WAY hotter dream sex in the dream-beach crashing surf than any we've had in real life. I won't go into the details, but it was one of those dreams where you wake up and actually expect to see the dream partner laying next to you naked and ready to go. I don't know if I had this dream because a totally platonic instant message conversation I had with the subject yesterday reminded my subconscious that I was trying to forget about the fact that I am attracted to him against all my better judgment and I just wasn't tormented and confused ENOUGH by this situation.
Apparently, making the rational decision not to be a dumb girl hung up on who I like is not enough to actually accomplish that, since my subconscious betrays me in dreams. I wish there was an "off" switch for this kind of thing so I can get back to focusing on how I'm going to score a player from the 'Nolia this weekend in New Orleans, and show my breasts to every tourist in the French Quarter, and eat my weight in crawfish, shrimp, andouille, turtles, and giant swamp rats, and generally be a Razzified force to be reckoned with. At least if I can't turn it off, I can get so rip-roaring drunk that I don't dream at all, and have so many adventures that I forget all about this bullshit by the time I get back to New York. Yeah...that's it. Alcohol and educational tourist activities. Lots and lots of alcohol and educational tourist activities.
Labels: LL Cool Jew, Morrissey'sHair, oh the horror, overcompensation, Razzification, sex
Friday, May 23, 2008
Daily Douchebag: placeholder
LL Cool Jew promised she'd have something good for today's douchebag, I'm just sticking this up for now to explain why there's no douchebag.
I'd write one myself and save LL's for Monday, but I don't feel like it, and frankly, I encourage all my contributors to write their own suggestions. Yesterday Morrissey'sHair suggested Morrissey for Daily Dude, since it was his 49th birthday. I don't think I could possibly say anything about Morrissey better than Morrissey'sHair, who is so obsessed that he actually goes to hang out with Morrissey fan clubs in various lame Seattle coffeehouses and has modeled his hairstyle after his idol, so I said, "How about YOU write it?" That was answered with silence, as I assume Morrissey'sHair was busy rendering legal services to the financially fucked, so I wrote about nutria instead. However, I still am leaving the door open for Morrissey'sHair to write about Morrissey or whatever else, and the same goes for my other contributors.
Ideally, all my contributors will churn something out daily, so there will be even less work for me and even more useless bullshit for your reading pleasure. Since that won't happen until I gently prod/force my contributors to cough up posts to match their ideas and get them in the habit of doing so, this placeholder post is where the Daily Douchebag should be. So get cracking finishing that post about how you hate baby boomers, LL Cool Jew!!!
Labels: Daily Douchebag, LL Cool Jew, Morrissey'sHair, Razzification
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
LET THE KELLS TRIAL INNOCENCE-FEST BEGIN!
Thank you to CorporateCard and Morrissey'sHair for both being concerned enough with the legal fate of Robert Sylvester Kelly to advise me that his trial was off to a rollicking legal start yesterday. Also, thanks to Morrissey'sHair for pointing out how impeccably dressed Kells was (per usual) and for noting, "Can't fade a playa." True that.
Anyway, back to day 1 of the People vs. Robert Sylvester Kelly. The prosecutor came right out of the gate with opening arguments delivered in a self-righteous, "Law and Order: SVU" sort of way. Engaging in blowjobs and watersports with a 13-year-old is reprehensible when you're a R&B thug, or any adult for that matter, taping it is worse, and R. Kelly supposedly did all that.
The defense, however, is relying on what they can prove and, more importantly, what the prosecution cannot: the fact that there's a high probability of the guy on the tape not being R. Kelly. You never see the guy's face, and the girl in the video remains unidentified. The alleged victim denied that she was in the video under oath before a grand jury, the tape was sent to a newspaper from an anonymous tipster rather than recovered from the R-uh in R&B's suburban Chicago mansion, R. Kelly has a brother who looks an awful lot like him, the tape is a fifth or sixth generation copy, and even the FBI couldn't identify the man on the tape. It seems to me that if you can't prove that the girl in the video is underage, much less whether the man pissing on her is in fact Robert S. Kelly from the Chi, then there is no case.
I saw the sex tape on the internets (unless, of course, that sex tape is deemed "child porn", in which case I don't know what you're talking about, and I plead the Fifth or whatever). You really can't tell who the man is, unless of course you think all black people look the same. In that case, the guy in the video shares Kells' skin color, so R. Kelly is guilty before he even makes the case for his innocence. However, assuming that the jury is not unabashedly racist, they'll see quite clearly that you can't tell if R. Kelly is the man in the video. Frankly, "black" is the only attribute R. Kelly and the guy in the video share, being that the video guy pissing on the alleged minor never demonstrates whether or not he is "handsome, sings, plus is rich" and is "a flirt," also critical points for positively identifying Kells. I should add that the guy in the video never demonstrates his skills as a "R&B thug" at any time (such as by causing the alleged victim to leave up out the room walking bowlegged, keeping her body coming like the CTA, or making the room go black upon exposure of his "love jones"), and the alleged victim never once says "oooh, Kelly, you make me holler, keep on jumpin' like an Impala" at any point during the scene either.
The great thing about this trial is that the defense is pointing out facts I didn't even know, and I know a LOT about R. Kelly since I'm pathologically obsessed with him. For example, I had no idea that Kells's dermatologic traits could provide the key to his acquittal, per CNN coverage of the case:
I saw the sex tape on the internets (unless, of course, that sex tape is deemed "child porn", in which case I don't know what you're talking about, and I plead the Fifth or whatever). You really can't tell who the man is, unless of course you think all black people look the same. In that case, the guy in the video shares Kells' skin color, so R. Kelly is guilty before he even makes the case for his innocence. However, assuming that the jury is not unabashedly racist, they'll see quite clearly that you can't tell if R. Kelly is the man in the video. Frankly, "black" is the only attribute R. Kelly and the guy in the video share, being that the video guy pissing on the alleged minor never demonstrates whether or not he is "handsome, sings, plus is rich" and is "a flirt," also critical points for positively identifying Kells. I should add that the guy in the video never demonstrates his skills as a "R&B thug" at any time (such as by causing the alleged victim to leave up out the room walking bowlegged, keeping her body coming like the CTA, or making the room go black upon exposure of his "love jones"), and the alleged victim never once says "oooh, Kelly, you make me holler, keep on jumpin' like an Impala" at any point during the scene either.
The great thing about this trial is that the defense is pointing out facts I didn't even know, and I know a LOT about R. Kelly since I'm pathologically obsessed with him. For example, I had no idea that Kells's dermatologic traits could provide the key to his acquittal, per CNN coverage of the case:
The defense asserts that Kelly has a "significant" mole in the middle of his lower back that has been there since childhood. But he said the man on the tape did not have the mole.
"There is no mole on his back," Adam (defense attorney) said. "Robert isn't that man on the tape."
Sounds good to me. Not only does this sound like Kells's back mole is the blemish of innocence, but it also makes a great excuse for R. Kelly to get topless in the courtroom. In other words, it's a total win-win for Kells supporters. NOT GUILTY!
Labels: armchair barristry, CorporateCard, crime and punishment, legal drama, Morrissey'sHair, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Daily Douchebag: California AB 2914
DOB: February 22, 2008
Occupation: levying a 25% tax on gross revenues from the sale of pornographic books, magazines, films, videos, etc.
Hometown: Sacramento, California
Current residence: Sacramento, California
Douchebaggery: Man, today is certainly the Morrissey'sHair edition of my website. He blew me up on chat about the start of Kells's trial, suggested Jon Lester for Daily Dude, and this for Daily Douchebag:
Morrissey'sHair: BTW, DD idea for tomorrow
Morrissey'sHair: The State of California
Razzy: daily douchebag or dude?
Morrissey'sHair: Douchebag
Razzy: dude=go gay marriage
Razzy: douchebag=25% porn tax
Morrissey'sHair: YES
Morrissey'sHair: Porn tax
Razzy: yes, that is what last week's dude kayden kross was so upset about!
Morrissey'sHair: the Terminator better shoot that one down if it comes across his desk
Razzy: TRULY
Morrissey'sHair: It was on CNN today
Morrissey'sHair: Looks ready for passage
Razzy: the worst part about that tax
Razzy: is it can be assessed at multiple stages of the porn production and distribution process
Razzy: so it actually becomes a 125% tax
Razzy: thus effectively ending porn production in california
Razzy: which is where the majority of US porn is produced
Morrissey'sHair: That means my Buy 2 @ $29.99 per piece dvds, get one free will now be in the $80.00 range!
Morrissey'sHair: Unamerican
Razzy: TRULY
Razzy: at least redtube is still free
Morrissey'sHair: Look out Seattle
Morrissey'sHair: There's a ton of snotty girls around here who could use a few extra hundred bucks for a facial
Razzy: LOL
Razzy: seriously
Morrissey'sHair: Maybe Vince Voyeur will set up an office here
You might be thinking, so fucking what? I don't live in California! I don't have any California state tax liability. WRONG, fool! If you buy and watch porn, you're going to pay this tax (and if you don't, then you're a lame prude who's missing out). The vast majority of porn in the U.S. is produced in the San Fernando valley. As Morrissey'sHair astutely pointed out, the cost of his buy 2, get 1 free DVDs at the Westlake Castle Superstore in Seattle will skyrocket, because due to the way porn is produced, distributed, and marketed, this tax could be assessed as many as 4 or 5 times on any given product (although Calderon insists that it will be capped at a whopping 50%), and ultimately that means the consumer will have to pick up the tab.
Sure, the porn industry could just move to another state. However, they may not have another state to move to, since California has a unique legal environment suitable for porn production. In 1982, the California State Supreme Court ruled in California vs. Freeman that the production of adult films did not constitute pandering, and is thus legal. No other state has similar legal precedent legitimizing the adult industry, which is why 90% of domestic porn is produced in the San Fernando Valley. It's also why people like Assemblyman Calderon have to resort to obscene taxes that don't even make financial sense (this will bring in $665 million in tax revenues, but will cost California $3.5 billion in lost jobs and industry revenues) to fight porn, since it's legal and qualifies as protected free speech. I should add that bills like AB 2914 are exactly why I'm a libertarian; I don't think the government has any business depriving me of my constitutional rights with absurd tax laws. Fuck that. No taxation of masturbation!
Luckily for Morrissey'sHair and myself and every other red-blooded American who likes to rub one off to a good, old-fashioned, Made-in-the-US-of-A hardcore porn film, it seems that this bill is actually not set to cross the Governator's desk anytime soon. According to porn industry reporters, the bill was sent to the "suspense file" of the Assembly Committee on Revenue and Taxation, meaning that it's not even going to be voted on. If it is voted on, it's unlikely to get the 2/3 majority required to pass tax hike legislation in California. Thank God for tax-hating Republicans who pledged not to vote for this or any other tax increases, and thank God for a non-fundamentalist Christian tax-hating Republican governor who will veto/terminate that shit on the off chance it does make it through the legislature.
Labels: assholes, Daily Douchebag, masturbation, Morrissey'sHair, politics, porn
Monday, March 24, 2008
Heads up to the Kells legal team
Last week, I received the following e-mail:
From: Morrissey'sHair, Esq. (mhair@brokemotherfuckersllp.com)It's a refreshing change to contemplate someone else's legal drama besides my own, and I am particularly concerned with Robert Sylvester Kelly's legal woes. I may be one of the only people in America who believes steadfastly in his innocence, or at least the strength of his defense case. How can a man who looks so snappy in courthouse finery be culpable in urinating on a minor? Sha right. Furthermore, how can the Pied Piper/R-uh/King of R&B be anything BUT The World's Greatest?
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Dude,
This morning while getting ready for work I was listening to Kells and a disturbing thought dawned on me: How on Earth can Kells enjoy his constitutional right to a fair and impartial jury of his peers when he is The World's Greatest? Seems that by definition, The World's Greatest is peerless; thus, any jury empaneled won't meet Constitutional muster. I can't believe his attorney hasn't brought this issue to the court's attention!
Morrissey'sHair raises an excellent point about R. Kelly's Sixth Amendment rights, and he's a real lawyer with a bar card and everything. I'd think that in addition to arguing for his singular status as "World's Greatest", the prosecution would be hard-pressed to fill a jury with marching bands, swift winds over the country, stars up in the sky, mountain peaks on high, lights at the end of the tunnel, lions in the jungle, pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, and everything else R. Kelly purports to be in that classic song. It's too bad Morrissey'sHair doesn't practice criminal law in Chicago because he'd have this case dismissed in a heartbeat.
Labels: armchair barristry, crime and punishment, legal drama, Morrissey'sHair, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Nerds run the rap snacks game
TAFKAMA is on fire in the Razzification department these days. He remembered clearly the time that we were quaffing many Vitamin R tallboys at the bar by his apartment with our buddy Morrissey'sHair, who purchased a couple bags of Rap Snacks ("the official snack of hip-hop") for us to enjoy.
Unfortunately, we didn't really enjoy them. Both the YoungBloodZ Southern Crunk BBQ and the Murphy Lee Red Hot Ripletts were underwhelming, so we didn't finish them. Apparently, however, some people did like the YoungBloodZ flavor, or at least purported to in this amusing video (complete with the theme music from "Doogie Howser, M.D.")that TAFKAMA dug up:
I would be completely unsurprised if Rap Snacks was really run by a couple of nerds with duct taped glasses, because if there's one thing geeks can do well, it's create fictional personas that elevate their coolness via the internets. I've seen about ten million MySpace and Facebook pages belonging to people who I KNOW are huge geeks in real life that make themselves out to be player-ass pimps via their online profiles. In fact, one of them is writing this very blog post. So it's not much of a stretch to imagine that a bunch of mathlete "Battlestar Galactica" fans are the crunkdafied minds behind Rap Snacks.
And I wonder if it's true that the YoungBloodZ rap snacks have really been discontinued. I'm not surprised, because they were pretty fucking gross. The fact that Warren G Cheezie Nacho flavor hasn't been resurrected, however, is a crime. That flavor regulated.
Unfortunately, we didn't really enjoy them. Both the YoungBloodZ Southern Crunk BBQ and the Murphy Lee Red Hot Ripletts were underwhelming, so we didn't finish them. Apparently, however, some people did like the YoungBloodZ flavor, or at least purported to in this amusing video (complete with the theme music from "Doogie Howser, M.D.")that TAFKAMA dug up:
I would be completely unsurprised if Rap Snacks was really run by a couple of nerds with duct taped glasses, because if there's one thing geeks can do well, it's create fictional personas that elevate their coolness via the internets. I've seen about ten million MySpace and Facebook pages belonging to people who I KNOW are huge geeks in real life that make themselves out to be player-ass pimps via their online profiles. In fact, one of them is writing this very blog post. So it's not much of a stretch to imagine that a bunch of mathlete "Battlestar Galactica" fans are the crunkdafied minds behind Rap Snacks.
And I wonder if it's true that the YoungBloodZ rap snacks have really been discontinued. I'm not surprised, because they were pretty fucking gross. The fact that Warren G Cheezie Nacho flavor hasn't been resurrected, however, is a crime. That flavor regulated.
Labels: gluttony, hilarious shit, intentional buffoonery, Morrissey'sHair, Mullah AntoniHo, rap, ridiculous absurdity
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Kells: 1, State of Illinois: 0
As Razzy has noted previously on several occasions, I've taken a keen interest in the criminal proceedings against the Pied Piper of R&B. To that end, I google his case from time to time in order to stay abreast of the proceedings. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to find this article headlining the results of my search this afternoon:
http://www.suntimes.com/news/metro/740134,rkelly011408.article
Apparently, Kells rolled into court this morning (looking like a modern-day Dick Diver, nonetheless!) to hear some decidedly good news: the judge just ain't having any of the weak shit put forth by the prosecution in a desperate attempt to prolong this case IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT THE ALLEGED VICTIM DENIES BEING INVOLVED IN THE CASE. It seems that the prosecution had hoped to introduce some expert testimony from a doctor as to why a "victim" might disclaim being involved in such a situation. Sagely, the judge thought better of such a tactic and denied the request. That judge deserves to double up on a couple of dizzy kneed strippers, and if it were in his power to do so, I'm sure Kells would that dream a reality.
Today's ruling takes another step toward fulfilling my prediction for this case: Dismissal with prejudice prior to trial. It's pretty clear to me that despite the fact that she's blind, Lady Justice can always recognize and stand guard over a true player for real.
http://www.suntimes.com/news/metro/740134,rkelly011408.article
Apparently, Kells rolled into court this morning (looking like a modern-day Dick Diver, nonetheless!) to hear some decidedly good news: the judge just ain't having any of the weak shit put forth by the prosecution in a desperate attempt to prolong this case IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT THE ALLEGED VICTIM DENIES BEING INVOLVED IN THE CASE. It seems that the prosecution had hoped to introduce some expert testimony from a doctor as to why a "victim" might disclaim being involved in such a situation. Sagely, the judge thought better of such a tactic and denied the request. That judge deserves to double up on a couple of dizzy kneed strippers, and if it were in his power to do so, I'm sure Kells would that dream a reality.
Today's ruling takes another step toward fulfilling my prediction for this case: Dismissal with prejudice prior to trial. It's pretty clear to me that despite the fact that she's blind, Lady Justice can always recognize and stand guard over a true player for real.
Labels: crime and punishment, Morrissey'sHair, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Norm Johnson
DOB: May 31, 1960
Occupation: real estate agent, retired NFL placekicker
Hometown: Garden Grove, California
Current residence: somewhere in Kitsap County, Washington (Silverdale?)
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Yesterday, I received the following e-mail from Morrissey'sHair:
From: Morrissey'sHair (mhair@helpingbrokemotherfuckersllp.com)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Dude,
Not sure if you saw this story yesterday, but Norm Johnson, aka The Greatest Kicker in Seahawks History, aka The Seahawks' All-Time Leading Scorer, aka The Snowman, aka White Jesus, aka Why Your Bitch Keep Pagin' Me?, is an honest to god HERO. I think he deserves Daily Dude I Want to Hit status.
http://www.iht.com/articles/ap/2007/12/12/america/Placekicker-Samaritan.php
Morrissey'sHair
Actually, I thought Norm Johnson went by "Mr. Automatic" and not "Why Your Bitch Keep Pagin' Me?," but all the same, I thought Morrissey'sHair was onto something. Basically, Norm Johnson was taking his brat to school and came across some dumb broad who hit a patch of ice and flipped over her car into a ditch. The ditch was filled with freezing water, and the chick couldn't get out, so Norm Johnson grabbed a rock, broke a window, and helped the hooker out. Okay, the woman probably wasn't so much a "hooker" as she was a "Bremelo," which is a local term describing fat women in Kitsap County who hang around the navy base in Bremerton looking to score some seamen, but regardless, Norm Johnson did a commendable job acting as a Good Samaritan.
Granted, this is nothing like the time that Captain Johnathan of the F/V Time Bandit pulled that dude out of the frigid and violent Bering Sea last season on "Deadliest Catch" to the guy's weeping, man-hugging, "You saved my fuckin' life, man!" gratitude, and it would be far more apropos in Kitsap County if Norm pulled this chick from a burning meth lab, but I'd hate to be stuck in a car overturned in a muddy ditch in Silverdale. I would say that drowning in freezing runoff somewhere in Silverdale in a sinking 2001 Pontiac Grand Am is right up there with Southern lean overdose and AIDS-related wasting on my list of crappy, unremarkable ways to die, so if I were that woman, I'd reward Norm Johnson with more than just a wimpy hug for saving me. The least she could do is give him a trunk full of gold doubloons. Or at least a blow job. Being a record-setting placekicker saving random bitches' lives is a thankless job, indeed. Maybe when I get back to the P-N-Dub in 3 days (!) I can track down Norm Johnson and thank him properly on her behalf.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Morrissey'sHair, P-N-Dub, Seahawks
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sig Hansen is the 12th man
Yesterday while I sat stewing in malevolent thoughts concerning a certain despicable team from Foxborough, Assachusetts and waiting for my man Alex at Josie Wood's Pub to turn on the Seahawks-Cardinals game, I was busy texting my buddy from the P-N-Dub, HotLawyer.
HotLawyer: Prediction--hawks win by fourteen! Fuck yeah!
Razzy: I went to church yesterday and prayed 4 just that
HotLawyer: God answered
Indeed he did and how, because the Seahawks actually ended up winning by 21 points. However, at this point prior to kickoff, the game still wasn't on in the bar, so HotLawyer had to call me to tell me that something AWESOME happened at Qwest Field. In case you don't know much about Seahawks football, we fans are known as the "12th man." Yes, I know Texas A&M thought of this first, but we really perfected it in Seattle. Here's the hot piece of middle linebacker known as Lofa Tatupu running around yesterday waving the 12th man flag for the fans' delight:
At the beginning of every game, a local Seattle celebrity and/or hero is called upon to raise the 12th man flag. Often, this is a douchebag like John Kerley (host of a local shitshow called "Evening Magazine") or one of Seahawks owner Paul Allen's douchebag friends from Microsoft. Sometimes they do better and get a hot Mariner (ie: Ichiro) or some hot former Seahawk like Jim Zorn to do it. And once in a great while, they get someone who truly embodies everything that makes Seattle great. Someone who is a real man, a true hero, and a devastatingly handsome hunk of Viking sexiness.
Who could meet such high and exacting standards, you ask? There is only one man I can think of, and his name is CAPTAIN SIGURD HANSEN OF THE F/V NORTHWESTERN!
YES!!!! Who is Captain Sigurd Hansen of the F/V Northwestern, you ask? Only the most dreamy crab boat captain ever to mine the Bering Sea for "red gold" on the Discovery Channel's "Deadliest Catch." My feelings for Sig are well-known, since he himself stumbled upon a blog entry I wrote praising his bravery and rough-edged Scandinavian hotness, linked it on his MySpace, and declared me his .1 fan (!). Sig is so damn sizzling that undoubtedly all the people shivering in the chilly Seattle winter weather at Qwest Field probably felt like the heat was turned on full blast.
"Sig just raised the 12th man flag!" HotLawyer told me excitedly. "This portends well for the Seahawks, I think."
Immediately after getting off the phone with HotLawyer, I got a text message from his twin brother, Morrissey'sHair.
Morrissey'sHair: At game. Sig raised the 12th man flag!
Razzy: HotLawyer told me. Is it like 80 degrees at qwest field because sig is there?
Morrissey'sHair was probably occupied with a large frosty cup of Rainier beer, so he didn't get back to me about Sig causing unseasonably warm weather at Qwest Field, but I'm sure if he hadn't been busy chugging Vitamin R and cheering for the Hawks he would have replied in the affirmative.
Anyway, I'm glad that Captain Sig took a break from "selling out" (according to some ardent "Deadliest Catch" fans) by putting his name on Russian crab being sold at Wal-Mart to celebrate his Seahawks love. When he finished raising that flag, he probably fired up a cigarette and called Captain Phil Harris of the F/V Cornelia Marie to rub it in that he was the face of the 12th man. I can't wait for next season of "Deadliest Catch" when Sig taunts Captain Phil with wheezy laughter into his radio about assisting in the defeat of our pathetic divisional rivals from Arizona.
Obviously the Seahawks won thanks to Sig's blessing Qwest Field with his virile masculinity and his overall positive mojo. How could anything but victory come after watching Sig put his decades of crab-fishing experience into one of the finest executed 12th man flag raisings in the history of standard bearing? Watch and see for yourself:
So. DAMN. HOT!
HotLawyer: Prediction--hawks win by fourteen! Fuck yeah!
Razzy: I went to church yesterday and prayed 4 just that
HotLawyer: God answered
Indeed he did and how, because the Seahawks actually ended up winning by 21 points. However, at this point prior to kickoff, the game still wasn't on in the bar, so HotLawyer had to call me to tell me that something AWESOME happened at Qwest Field. In case you don't know much about Seahawks football, we fans are known as the "12th man." Yes, I know Texas A&M thought of this first, but we really perfected it in Seattle. Here's the hot piece of middle linebacker known as Lofa Tatupu running around yesterday waving the 12th man flag for the fans' delight:
Who could meet such high and exacting standards, you ask? There is only one man I can think of, and his name is CAPTAIN SIGURD HANSEN OF THE F/V NORTHWESTERN!
"Sig just raised the 12th man flag!" HotLawyer told me excitedly. "This portends well for the Seahawks, I think."
Immediately after getting off the phone with HotLawyer, I got a text message from his twin brother, Morrissey'sHair.
Morrissey'sHair: At game. Sig raised the 12th man flag!
Razzy: HotLawyer told me. Is it like 80 degrees at qwest field because sig is there?
Morrissey'sHair was probably occupied with a large frosty cup of Rainier beer, so he didn't get back to me about Sig causing unseasonably warm weather at Qwest Field, but I'm sure if he hadn't been busy chugging Vitamin R and cheering for the Hawks he would have replied in the affirmative.
Anyway, I'm glad that Captain Sig took a break from "selling out" (according to some ardent "Deadliest Catch" fans) by putting his name on Russian crab being sold at Wal-Mart to celebrate his Seahawks love. When he finished raising that flag, he probably fired up a cigarette and called Captain Phil Harris of the F/V Cornelia Marie to rub it in that he was the face of the 12th man. I can't wait for next season of "Deadliest Catch" when Sig taunts Captain Phil with wheezy laughter into his radio about assisting in the defeat of our pathetic divisional rivals from Arizona.
Obviously the Seahawks won thanks to Sig's blessing Qwest Field with his virile masculinity and his overall positive mojo. How could anything but victory come after watching Sig put his decades of crab-fishing experience into one of the finest executed 12th man flag raisings in the history of standard bearing? Watch and see for yourself:
So. DAMN. HOT!
Labels: Deadliest Catch, hot dudes, HotLawyer, I LOVE IT, Morrissey'sHair, NFL football, Seahawks
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Not the best strategy for quelling those pesky gay rumors
I assumed the reason for the delay in releasing Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter's latest album had something to do with his epic criminal record. It seems like every day I'm getting a text from Morrissey'sHair, who for whatever reason is my primary source of Lil' Wayne-related tips, about Weezy F Baby running afoul of the law yet again, usually for either possessing weed and/or Vicodin and/or illegal firearms, or violation of probation for one of the aforementioned outstanding charges. I figured that he was spending so much time in jail and court and his lawyers' offices in various states that he didn't have time to get in the studio and finish laying down all the tracks for Tha Carter: Volume III.
I guess he finally got around to it, because the proposed cover is being leaked on the internets, and all I have to say is...whoa. I've had some questions about Lil' Wayne's sexuality in the past, particularly regarding his relationship with his adopted "daddy" Brian "Baby/Birdman" Williams, based on homoerotic XXL magazine covers and candid photos of them making out. This is not doing a damn thing to dispel my suspicions that Lil' Wayne knows his way around a boys' poker night:
I'm glad Tha Carter is experimenting with his look a little, but if he keeps up this gender bending stuff, people are going to suspect that he is indeed what he once characterized in "Go DJ" as "them homo niggas gettin' AIDS in the ass." I'm not sure why he fears God, unless he's concerned that Fred Phelps is right and God hates fags. In any event, I'm not sure the right way to cope with one's fear of God is to get one's Foxy Brown drag face on. I do know one thing for sure, though...I am SO buying Tha Carter: Volume III, if only to listen for hints about the special relationship Tha Carter shares with Birdman. I imagine Lil' Wayne gets his face made up all purty and Birdman makes those "brrrrrr" pigeon noises to get each other in the mood, and I hope there are some oblique references to this on his new album. Weezy Fuckin' Baby, indeed.
I guess he finally got around to it, because the proposed cover is being leaked on the internets, and all I have to say is...whoa. I've had some questions about Lil' Wayne's sexuality in the past, particularly regarding his relationship with his adopted "daddy" Brian "Baby/Birdman" Williams, based on homoerotic XXL magazine covers and candid photos of them making out. This is not doing a damn thing to dispel my suspicions that Lil' Wayne knows his way around a boys' poker night:
Labels: hilarious shit, intentional buffoonery, Lil' Wayne, Morrissey'sHair, rap, vulgar display of faggotry
Monday, November 05, 2007
I TOLD you Kristeen Young sucked!
When I went to the Morrissey concert the week before last, my crew lingered at the German restaurant where we were indulging in pre-Morrissey sausages, schnitzel, and beer to ensure we missed the lame-ass opening act. Unfortunately, we still managed to catch the last few songs of the opening act, some chick named Kristeen Young. When we walked in, MIss Corbutt turned to me and goes, "Did we just walk into Olympia, Washington circa 1992?" I replied, "Got a pen? Because I need to write 'RIOT GRRL' on my knuckles." Seriously, this dumb slag might as well have asked 15-year-old feminazi poetry writing Razzy to decorate her keyboard for her:
We both rolled our eyes, and as if she could read our minds, Kristeen noted that she was about to play her last song. Thank GOD.
Morrissey'sHair was blowing up my spot via text all throughout the show, and I made a point to complain about this Kristeen snatch to him.
While I would be flattered if someone gave my oral sex skills a positive review, Morrissey was most certainly not. I don't blame him for being mad that this outdated hooker was dragging his good name through the mud by claiming that even though Morrissey is a vegan, he still eats the occasional bearded clam. I mean, I'm sure Morrissey can suck a mean dick, but to suggest that he'd hit that sack of Bikini Kill-influenced tits is just a straight-up insult. And thus, Kristeen Young was fired. HA!
If only her dismissal had taken effect immediately, and thus saved me the annoyance of hearing two and a half Kristeen Young jams. I think the only one who didn't mind her was J-Sexy, and that's only because while J-Sexy likes "Mahrissey", she isn't particularly familiar with his entire repertoire and was there mostly to have a novel experience. During the show, she kept saying, "I wish he would play that 'Playboy' song, I don't know these other songs." At that moment, he was playing "How Soon Is Now" and I said, "But J-Sexy, this is like the most famous Smiths song." She gave one of her typical imperious shrugs. Classic.
Morrissey'sHair was blowing up my spot via text all throughout the show, and I made a point to complain about this Kristeen snatch to him.
Razzy: U have no idea how bad this ho opening sux. Morrissey i'm sure hates her. Stupd generic lezbot.Well, as it turns out, Morrissey's love for Kristeen Young has run out. Apparently at the show a couple days before the one I attended, some audience member was sick of listening to her caterwaul and called out for Morrissey. Kristeen Young responded, "Morrissey gives great head...I mean, cunnilingus."
Morrissey'sHair: Kristeen Young? Moz loves her.
Razzy: Ugh. I guess he was also a pnw lez circa 92 then.
While I would be flattered if someone gave my oral sex skills a positive review, Morrissey was most certainly not. I don't blame him for being mad that this outdated hooker was dragging his good name through the mud by claiming that even though Morrissey is a vegan, he still eats the occasional bearded clam. I mean, I'm sure Morrissey can suck a mean dick, but to suggest that he'd hit that sack of Bikini Kill-influenced tits is just a straight-up insult. And thus, Kristeen Young was fired. HA!
If only her dismissal had taken effect immediately, and thus saved me the annoyance of hearing two and a half Kristeen Young jams. I think the only one who didn't mind her was J-Sexy, and that's only because while J-Sexy likes "Mahrissey", she isn't particularly familiar with his entire repertoire and was there mostly to have a novel experience. During the show, she kept saying, "I wish he would play that 'Playboy' song, I don't know these other songs." At that moment, he was playing "How Soon Is Now" and I said, "But J-Sexy, this is like the most famous Smiths song." She gave one of her typical imperious shrugs. Classic.
Labels: comeuppance, feminazism, J-Sexy, lezbollah, Miss Corbutt, Morrissey'sHair, overcompensation, sluts
Friday, October 26, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Morrissey
DOB: May 22, 1959
Occupation: singer, object of pathological obsession for me when I was sixteen and many of my friends now
Hometown: Manchester, England
Current residence: London, I guess
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Well, I don't really, because rumor has it Morrissey isn't very much into getting sexy and even if he was/is, I don't think he's into girls. However, today I'm going to the Morrissey concert tonight at the Hammerstein Ballroom because Morrissey and Sylvia Plath were the king and queen of my world when I was an insecure, confused, upset, misunderstood, faux-suicidal teenage lesbian with a fetish for bad poetry, and because I still like Morrissey even if I'm not spending all my time obsessively relating to the lyrics of "November Spawned a Monster" (my birthday is in November; I felt this song so seriously). Anyway, Morrissey'sHair got very excited when I informed him that I was going to this show, and in addition to demanding that I blog about it, told me that I was about to experience the greatest night of my life.
Uh...SHA RIGHT. For one thing, as exciting as it will be to see Morrissey live, and I'm sure he'll engage in plenty of amusing witty banter between songs, he'll probably say something about animals that will piss me off. To counteract Morrissey's pro-PETA and pro-vegan stance, I'm taking my posse of fellow concertgoers to a German wurst restaurant prior to the show, where the only thing on the menu not containing meat is the sauerkraut. And trust that I'm wearing slutty leather boots. Also, as much as I'm sure Morrissey will be a great concert, LL Cool Jew and I had other thoughts as to what the greatest musical day of our lives will be (NOVEMBER 23RD, NASSAU COLISEUM, ROBERT SYLVESTER KELLY WITH NEYO, KEYSHIA COLE, AND J. HOLIDAY), as detailed here in yet another one of the neverending Google chats she and I waste time doing all day at work:
Razzy: morrissey'shair told me today that the morrissey concert I'm going to will be the greatest of my lifeHowever, while Morrissey will never approach R-uh Kelly's status in my baller hierarchy, I am certain that I will still have a great time tonight, and hopefully something amusing will happen for me to blog about. Morrissey'sHair and his brother HotLawyer are both ridiculous Morrissey fans. Last time I was in the P-N-Dub, Morrissey'sHair straight up blew me off one night so he could get up early the next day and stalk Morrissey (who was in town) all over Seattle, and another time I had gone out drinking with HotLawyer and crashed at his place, and when we got there, he popped in "The M in Manchester" and started drunkenly raving about it. Since they are both super-Razzyphiles, I'd better throw them a bone, so I'll make something blogworthy happen tonight at the Hammerstein Ballroom. Trust.
Razzy: and that it would be superior to kells
Razzy: i SNORTED ALOUD
LL Cool Jew: sha
Razzy: and sent him a scoff-heavy e-mail advising him otherwise
Razzy: i told him that the opinions of a man who spent half of the same email defending gwen stefani's virtue are taken with a grain of salt
Razzy: i mean, i'm sure morrissey's going to be great
LL Cool Jew: it will
LL Cool Jew: but it won't be kells
Razzy: but morrissey has never said, "you want to ride up in my truck, but you don't want to let me fuck you"
Razzy: exactly
Razzy: it won't be kells
Razzy: steven patrick morrissey is great and stuff, but he is no robert sylvester kelly
Razzy: no way no how
LL Cool Jew: not like you are expecting it to be kells
LL Cool Jew: you're expecting it to be morrissey
Razzy: exactly
Razzy: i'm sure morrissey will say some funny shit
Razzy: and i'll probably get to roll my eyes when he shoots his mouth off about animals
Razzy: hopefully he will bust on some celebrities or america
Razzy: or fat people
Razzy: but there won't be any real talk
Razzy: see, girl
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, HotLawyer, LL Cool Jew, Morrissey'sHair, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Party in the Ada County Jail men's room!
Just because Morrissey'sHair is on the bankruptcy hustle doesn't mean he isn't keeping track of breaking news in his brother HotLawyer's field of criminal law. Yesterday I received the following news alert via text message from Morrissey'sHair:
Tha Carter arrested in Idaho!
In case you don't know who "Tha Carter" refers to, it is this fine gentleman, Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter, alias Weezy F Baby, Cash Money rapper, adopted son of Birdman/Baby, and frequent guest of the state:
Man, Lil' Wayne gives some great mugshot. He always seems so nonplussed, and I've seen enough of his mugshots to know that at this point, a night in the pokey really ain't no thang to him. He gets arrested on a near-weekly basis, usually for combo drug and gun charges. In this case, he was arrested on a felony fugitive charge related to a 2006 arrest for possessing marijuana and over 100 Xanax and Vicodin pills. His fondness for those controlled substances certainly suggests a compelling explanation for his perpetually calm demeanor.
I also like this mugshot because you can see his face tattoos up close. His teardrops always crack me up, because EVERYONE knows Lil' Wayne hasn't killed three people. In fact, the last time anyone checked on his three known enemies, Terius "Juvenile" Gray, Byron "Mannie Fresh" Thomas, and Christopher "B.G." Dorsey, they were alive, well, and growing ever more corpulent on a seemingly endless supply of fish and shrimp po' boys. And what is that thing between his eyebrows? It looks either like an electron micrograph of an Ebola virion or a sketch of a dick-and-nuts. Given that I have questioned in the past whether or not his assertion that he is "stuntin' like his daddy" Birdman refers to some type of homosexual relationship based on homoerotic XXL magazine covers and photographic evidence of them making out, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.
I thought that Idaho, a state known previously for its white supremacist survivalists and potatoes, would never be known as the place for closeted dudes to be getting their cruisy freak on. However, I can only imagine what transpired when Senator Larry Craig went to visit Weezy F Baby in the Ada County lockup after his induction into the Idahoan Hall of Fame. You know there was some hardcore foot-tapping and soap dropping going on. It may seem like an unlikely pairing, but if there's anything this conservative Republican senator and this player from the 'Nolia have in common, it's a secret desire for other men and a sense of ease behind bars. There's nothing that can bring two fellas from opposite walks of life together like a game of slammer soggy crackers in the cozy comfort of a county jail shower room.
P.S. to all you people who keep arguing with me about Tha Carter's sexual orientation: I'm not backing down on this one. I know gay when I see it, and concerning his alleged relationship with Da Baddest Bitch Trina...she's a classic beard. That's my story and I'm sticking to it like Lil' Wayne's dick to Senator Craig's ass.
Tha Carter arrested in Idaho!
In case you don't know who "Tha Carter" refers to, it is this fine gentleman, Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter, alias Weezy F Baby, Cash Money rapper, adopted son of Birdman/Baby, and frequent guest of the state:
Man, Lil' Wayne gives some great mugshot. He always seems so nonplussed, and I've seen enough of his mugshots to know that at this point, a night in the pokey really ain't no thang to him. He gets arrested on a near-weekly basis, usually for combo drug and gun charges. In this case, he was arrested on a felony fugitive charge related to a 2006 arrest for possessing marijuana and over 100 Xanax and Vicodin pills. His fondness for those controlled substances certainly suggests a compelling explanation for his perpetually calm demeanor.
I also like this mugshot because you can see his face tattoos up close. His teardrops always crack me up, because EVERYONE knows Lil' Wayne hasn't killed three people. In fact, the last time anyone checked on his three known enemies, Terius "Juvenile" Gray, Byron "Mannie Fresh" Thomas, and Christopher "B.G." Dorsey, they were alive, well, and growing ever more corpulent on a seemingly endless supply of fish and shrimp po' boys. And what is that thing between his eyebrows? It looks either like an electron micrograph of an Ebola virion or a sketch of a dick-and-nuts. Given that I have questioned in the past whether or not his assertion that he is "stuntin' like his daddy" Birdman refers to some type of homosexual relationship based on homoerotic XXL magazine covers and photographic evidence of them making out, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.
I thought that Idaho, a state known previously for its white supremacist survivalists and potatoes, would never be known as the place for closeted dudes to be getting their cruisy freak on. However, I can only imagine what transpired when Senator Larry Craig went to visit Weezy F Baby in the Ada County lockup after his induction into the Idahoan Hall of Fame. You know there was some hardcore foot-tapping and soap dropping going on. It may seem like an unlikely pairing, but if there's anything this conservative Republican senator and this player from the 'Nolia have in common, it's a secret desire for other men and a sense of ease behind bars. There's nothing that can bring two fellas from opposite walks of life together like a game of slammer soggy crackers in the cozy comfort of a county jail shower room.
P.S. to all you people who keep arguing with me about Tha Carter's sexual orientation: I'm not backing down on this one. I know gay when I see it, and concerning his alleged relationship with Da Baddest Bitch Trina...she's a classic beard. That's my story and I'm sticking to it like Lil' Wayne's dick to Senator Craig's ass.
Labels: Cash Money, crime and punishment, Lil' Wayne, Morrissey'sHair, rap, vulgar display of faggotry
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Guardian ad AWESOME
Today, the NY Daily News rocked the Post's face off with its superior cover:
And in case you hadn't heard enough people shooting off at the mouth about Unfitney's prowess at parenting, I just had to share an excellent suggestion that Morrissey'sHair sent me in a text this afternoon: "Sean Preston and Jayden James really need a guardian appointed. I'm thinking Jim Walsh."
That's not a bad idea. Jim Walsh, a hairy-backed accountant hailing from Minneapolis, demonstrated his prowess at child rearing by unleashing the perennially successful poster boy for goody-two-shoe assholes, Brandon Walsh. Granted, Brandon did crash his car "Mondale" once while driving drunk after letting Steve Sanders pour him one too many mango-ritas, developed a severe gambling addiction that resulted in Nat bailing his ass out when his bookies came looking for legs to break, hooked up with psycho Emily Valentine, was embroiled in a cheating scandal with California University star basketball player DeShaun Hardell, fooled around on Kelly with this crazy slut/freelance advice columnist/stalker, and had a torrid affair with the anthropologist wife of his favorite sociology professor, but he always managed to land on his feet and have things work out for the best. For example, when he crashed Mondale, it freed up space in the Walsh driveway for his classic convertible 'Stang. Brandon also was able to have the courage and moral fortitude to help Dylan kick drugs and alcohol more than once, save the Peach Pit from greedy developers, write heartwrenching editorials for the West Beverly Blaze, keep Steve Sanders in school, almost marry Kelly Taylor twice, be elected to the California University chancellor's elite "task force" (not sure what tasks they worked on, but it was very prestigious nonetheless), save Donna from a lunatic cameraman who took her hostage at the CU TV station, and pay a stripper without her taking off any clothes because he got to know her and was then too gentlemanly to proceed with objectifying her. He could have accomplished none of that without Jim Walsh's steady hand and prowess at fathering.
Granted, Jim Walsh was kind of batting .500 when it came to producing healthy, well-adjusted children when you consider the case of Brandon's spastic and completely irrational bitch twin Brenda, but in fairness, I think Brenda would have been an asshole whether she was raised by the finest family or raised by a pack of wolves. I think that he'd certainly provide more reliable and conservative guidance than K-Fed ever could for Sean Preston and Jayden James. At least Jimbo wouldn't be rocking cornrows and trashing his baby mama to the press. I strongly urge the California court system to consider this option. Besides, apart from his appearance last year as a Scientologist OB/GYN on an episode of "Nip/Tuck," it's not like James Eckhouse is so busy with acting jobs that he can't just assume the role he was born to play in real life and save those brats from Unfitney. He could even teach them some righteous karaoke. It would really be in those kids' best interest.
That's not a bad idea. Jim Walsh, a hairy-backed accountant hailing from Minneapolis, demonstrated his prowess at child rearing by unleashing the perennially successful poster boy for goody-two-shoe assholes, Brandon Walsh. Granted, Brandon did crash his car "Mondale" once while driving drunk after letting Steve Sanders pour him one too many mango-ritas, developed a severe gambling addiction that resulted in Nat bailing his ass out when his bookies came looking for legs to break, hooked up with psycho Emily Valentine, was embroiled in a cheating scandal with California University star basketball player DeShaun Hardell, fooled around on Kelly with this crazy slut/freelance advice columnist/stalker, and had a torrid affair with the anthropologist wife of his favorite sociology professor, but he always managed to land on his feet and have things work out for the best. For example, when he crashed Mondale, it freed up space in the Walsh driveway for his classic convertible 'Stang. Brandon also was able to have the courage and moral fortitude to help Dylan kick drugs and alcohol more than once, save the Peach Pit from greedy developers, write heartwrenching editorials for the West Beverly Blaze, keep Steve Sanders in school, almost marry Kelly Taylor twice, be elected to the California University chancellor's elite "task force" (not sure what tasks they worked on, but it was very prestigious nonetheless), save Donna from a lunatic cameraman who took her hostage at the CU TV station, and pay a stripper without her taking off any clothes because he got to know her and was then too gentlemanly to proceed with objectifying her. He could have accomplished none of that without Jim Walsh's steady hand and prowess at fathering.
Granted, Jim Walsh was kind of batting .500 when it came to producing healthy, well-adjusted children when you consider the case of Brandon's spastic and completely irrational bitch twin Brenda, but in fairness, I think Brenda would have been an asshole whether she was raised by the finest family or raised by a pack of wolves. I think that he'd certainly provide more reliable and conservative guidance than K-Fed ever could for Sean Preston and Jayden James. At least Jimbo wouldn't be rocking cornrows and trashing his baby mama to the press. I strongly urge the California court system to consider this option. Besides, apart from his appearance last year as a Scientologist OB/GYN on an episode of "Nip/Tuck," it's not like James Eckhouse is so busy with acting jobs that he can't just assume the role he was born to play in real life and save those brats from Unfitney. He could even teach them some righteous karaoke. It would really be in those kids' best interest.
Labels: Bev Niner, Britney Spears, destroy all children, Kevin Federline, large exclamatory font, Morrissey'sHair
Feelin' On Yo Booty
Yesterday I was chatting with Morrissey'sHair, and naturally we were spending some of the time conversating about my favorite flirt/king of R&B...Robert Sylvester Kelly. Morrissey'sHair (being the world's biggest Morrissey fan) is new to the world of amazing genius that is Robert Sylvester Kelly's body of work, so he had never seen the awesomeness that is the "Feelin' On Yo Booty" video.
"Basically, the premise is that R. Kelly is only in town for the weekend, and he is interrupted whilst grooming himself for a hot night at the club, causing him to show up and perform with his hair half-cornrowed and half-Afro puffed. Once he gets there, he just dances slow with a girl, feels on her fabled booty, and then...he's out."
I then proceeded to go on for about ten minutes about all the great things about the video, such as the fact that Lil' Kim is inexplicably in it as one of the R-uh in R&B's love interests and as the target of the song's greatest line: "And your hair weave's lookin' kinda purty...the way you back it up on me, baby, LAWD have mercy." It's hilarious enough that anyone would characterize Lil' Kim's tracks as "kinda purty," but when it's coming from Robert Sylvester, it's right up there with the Seahawks winning a Super Bowl, sex with 50 Cent, or eating pepperoni pizza in my pantheon of favorite things.
Anyway, I just couldn't sleep thinking about how tremendously culturally deprived Morrissey'sHair is for not having witnessed this. It's so kickass that it's almost like the part at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indiana Jones has to close his eyes so as not to be destroyed with the Nazis by witnessing the awesome and terrible power of God himself. Luckily, R. Kelly has not achieved I Am Who Am-like powers (yet), so you can view prime scenes like Kells indulging in a bubble bath with two video hos and a bottle of Cris from the "Feelin' On Yo Booty" video without fear of divine immolation, and I strongly encourage you all to do so IMMEDIATELY. This is my song FOR REAL, no doubt.
Players want to play, ballers want to ball, R. Kelly's takin' off after this dance, and all is right in the world. If it's your birthday, or if you want to get drunk, or if you've got some cash or your own job, then put your hands up. My hands are up. No, seriously...they are. That's what happens when the DJ makes me feel thugged out.
"Basically, the premise is that R. Kelly is only in town for the weekend, and he is interrupted whilst grooming himself for a hot night at the club, causing him to show up and perform with his hair half-cornrowed and half-Afro puffed. Once he gets there, he just dances slow with a girl, feels on her fabled booty, and then...he's out."
I then proceeded to go on for about ten minutes about all the great things about the video, such as the fact that Lil' Kim is inexplicably in it as one of the R-uh in R&B's love interests and as the target of the song's greatest line: "And your hair weave's lookin' kinda purty...the way you back it up on me, baby, LAWD have mercy." It's hilarious enough that anyone would characterize Lil' Kim's tracks as "kinda purty," but when it's coming from Robert Sylvester, it's right up there with the Seahawks winning a Super Bowl, sex with 50 Cent, or eating pepperoni pizza in my pantheon of favorite things.
Anyway, I just couldn't sleep thinking about how tremendously culturally deprived Morrissey'sHair is for not having witnessed this. It's so kickass that it's almost like the part at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indiana Jones has to close his eyes so as not to be destroyed with the Nazis by witnessing the awesome and terrible power of God himself. Luckily, R. Kelly has not achieved I Am Who Am-like powers (yet), so you can view prime scenes like Kells indulging in a bubble bath with two video hos and a bottle of Cris from the "Feelin' On Yo Booty" video without fear of divine immolation, and I strongly encourage you all to do so IMMEDIATELY. This is my song FOR REAL, no doubt.
Players want to play, ballers want to ball, R. Kelly's takin' off after this dance, and all is right in the world. If it's your birthday, or if you want to get drunk, or if you've got some cash or your own job, then put your hands up. My hands are up. No, seriously...they are. That's what happens when the DJ makes me feel thugged out.
Labels: hilarious shit, I LOVE IT, Morrissey'sHair, ridiculous absurdity, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Y'all cats can't touch him
I meant to comment about this last week, but in my computerless state, I was unable to keep abreast with the most important legal news of the century if not the millenium, and no, it's got nothing to do with Britney Spears or the Jena Six. I'm talking, of course, about the trial of a certain boyfriend of mine named Robert Sylvester Kelly, which was supposed to commence on September 17th.
I was relieved to see last week after a quick covert internet search at work that this did not occur. I was equally relieved to know that brilliant legal minds are keeping abreast of this, as I think it is a real problem that the courts aren't abuzz with discussion of what may be the most groundbreaking case ever to break open the court system. Bakke versus UC Regents? WHO CARES?! Miranda versus Arizona? Snoooore. Roe versus Wade? Brown versus Board of Education? Marbury versus Madison? All trifling diversions compared to a massively important decision which will be rendered in the case of Illinois versus Robert Sylvester Kelly, now dropping in spring 2008. At least one lawyer appreciates the impact this trial could potentially have. Morrissey'sHair sent me this e-mail this week to provide me with the insight that has egregiously overlooked by every so-called "respectable" law journal:
From: Morrissey'sHair, Esq. (mhair@helpingbrokemotherfuckersllp.com)Well, thanks to the esteemed counselor for his compliments concerning my rack, and consider me relieved that an actual member of the bar has given my boyfriend Kells's case such a positive prognosis. Anyone who read my astute analysis of R. Kelly's acquittal prospects, after expressing shock and disbelief that I myself am not a high-powered attorney on account of my brilliant legal mind given its hard-hitting and entirely convincing persuasive, logical arguments, probably is already aware that Kells has a pretty strong case for reasonable doubt. However, I'm glad to get Morrissey'sHair's second opinion, and wrote back to confirm my support for his position:
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
You probably already know this, but The Trial of the Century, aka, The State of Illinois vs. KELLS, has been continued yet again. This time due to the lead prosecutor's health issues. Looks like Kells won't be in court until the spring of 2008. I've always assumed that he would beat those charges like Rocky, but now I'm beginning to think he won't even have to face them after all. These charges have "dismissal" written all over them.
Morrissey'sHair
PS- Nice boobies.
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)The world cannot live without Robert Sylvester's ridiculous, lasciviously hilarious brand of genius, and you know he wouldn't last two seconds in jail. He needs to stay on the outside so he can make more songs about answering machine messages "You have reached R. Kelly, unfortunately I'm asleep, been out partyin' all night, I'm blasted off that Hennessy...and this goes out to all the honeys that's callin', so leave your name after the beep and I'm sure to get with you if I'm not asleep, or smokin' some trees, or havin' a little sex, or I'm not faded, or makin' a baby." Okay, "Leave Your Name" is obviously my favorite R. Kelly song of the day, although "Sex Planet," "Rollin'," and "Snake" are enjoying a lot of time on my iTunes as well. Anyway, the world needs a lot more of that, and all the other masterworks Kells has blessed the world with.
To: Morrissey'sHair (mhair@helpingbrokemotherfuckersllp.com)
Dude, I SO already know. I was all over the internets on the 17th waiting to hear the breaking news from Illinois Superior Court or whatevs and after a lot of digging found that it had been continued because the judge has other more important cases to address. Apparently there's a gag order imposed on the proceedings, which is why it's so damn hard to find news on any of this.
However, I get the feeling that in spite of there being a gag order, this judge is determined not to try Kells, and there can only be one reason for that: he's such a huge fan that he can't bear the thought of someone so black, handsome, who sings, plus is rich and is a flirt would be draped in a drab prison uni rather than a crystal-studded hoodie and a pair of bedazzled stunner shades. I'm expecting all charges dismissed next spring, right in time for Robert Sylvester to release yet another amazing album for playerette flirters like myself to get down to.
Labels: crime and punishment, I LOVE IT, kewlness, Morrissey'sHair, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
My Buffalo theory continues to evolve
Last night was my Fantasy Football draft, and since Morrissey'sHair dropped out of the draft early, I had to call him up to inform him that thanks to his auto-selections, his starting wide receivers were now Chris Chambers and Darryl Jackson. We got to talking about how he ran into our mutual high school classmate Mullah AntoniHo at Uwajimaya (Asian food and furniture supermarket in Seattle) while he was having lunch with a friend who was visiting him from out of town last weekend. A little later in the conversation, we were talking about football and somehow J.P. Losman came up, and in the course of that discussion, he mentioned that his recently visiting friend was from Buffalo.
After Morrissey'sHair had to get off the phone to "talk to the cable guy" (aka probably bang some 22-year-old Seattle hipster ho-bag/unemployed model or something of that ilk), I went back to drafting, made a few phone calls, and generally went about my typical Razzy business (drinking Heineken, reading Fantasy Football blogs, and watching TV). Then, I had one of those divine, Doc-Brown-fell-off-his-toilet-and-cooked-up-the-flux-capacitor moments of inspiration about my Buffalo theory.
My Buffalo theory was an idea I had a while back while writing about the hotness that is Brandi M. from "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels" on Vh1 and realized I had never met an unattractive person from Buffalo. If you can count on native Buffalans for anything, it's that their love for hockey is bordering on achieving Canadian-level amounts of fanaticism, and it's that they are SEXY AS HELL. My buddy G-Cat, one of the hot Buffalo natives upon whose attractive phenotype I based this theory, helped me tweak the paradigm a bit, assuring me that all the fuckable people from Buffalo have all moved away leaving nothing but morbidly obese, wing-stuffed lardasses in his hometown. Thanks to his helpful input, I've now revised my model to reflect that Buffalo's sexworthy natives have all moved to other cities, which works out well for me, since I bet there's lots of them here in Nieuw Amsterdam. However, now, thanks to Morrissey'sHair, my Buffalo theory needs revising yet AGAIN. Also, unfortunately for me, it indicates that the men of Buffalo aren't into the whole Scandinavian white trash thing I've got going on.
Morrissey'sHair casually mentioned that he and his friend were at Uwajimaya because his friend "has an Asian fetish." This same friend hates J.P. Losman because like all Bills fans he spends a lot of time nostalgically rhapsodizing about Jim Kelly, who led the Bills to four straight Super Bowls, all of which they lost, and only a Buffalo native son thinks like that. A light went on in my genius brain and...EUREKA! Hot dudes originally hailing from Buffalo all love the Asian ladies! My buddy G-Cats, while apparently having more fondness and sympathy than Morrissey'sHair's pal for the unfortunate and tragically flawed (with an inconsistent quarterback, a pathetic running back situation, precious few players capable of catching a pass, no defense whatsoever, and one of the crappiest, underachieving offensive lines in the NFL) Bills, ALSO has an Asian fetish. I have never seen him with a non-Asian girlfriend EVER. I have seen him turn down offers from insanely hot non-Asian women. When we went camping the other weekend, in addition to bringing his Asian girlfriend, he had an entire harem of Asian women surrounding him at almost all times. He loves the Asian ladies and is so famous for it that it's often one of the first descriptors you hear of him at a grad school party. I don't know what Morrissey'sHair's friend looks like, but I'd be willing to bet that he's quite the looker given his Buffalo expat status and his lust for the mysterious treasures of the Orient, or whatever.
Too bad these fellas weren't visiting their hometown this past weekend, where the ravenous Korean-American fox Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas, fifth-ranked competitive eater in the world, took home the title of Buffalo's top wing eater when she consumed 173 chicken wings (5.12 pounds) in 12 minutes.
You know this slavering, sauce-smeared bundle of fierceness can probably give one hell of a sloppy blow job. After having seen her on ESPN slamming Nathan's famous hot dogs at Coney Island this past summer, I can say with near absolute certainty that she can deep throat like a damn porn star.
And speaking of porn stars who know their way orally around a weiner, at least I can find some solace at not being phenotypically appreciated by Buffalan men in Amateur Facialist Brandi M. The great thing about being bisexual is that even though the hot dudes of Buffalo may reject my uber-Nordic physical features due to their inherent preferences, I can still hit it with the fine ladies hailing from there. Brandi M. is a Las Vegas stripper, former cocksucking webcam whore, and current hot-ass, liquor-swilling, extremely horny, genital-ruled Scorpio, so I bet she's been known to get down with (or go down on) some bitches. Besides, if Bret Michaels is any indication, she likes her sex partners to have long blonde hair, a trashtastic aura, and a blue-collar background, so there's still a chance I might break me off a piece of some fly upstate ass. And I will.
After Morrissey'sHair had to get off the phone to "talk to the cable guy" (aka probably bang some 22-year-old Seattle hipster ho-bag/unemployed model or something of that ilk), I went back to drafting, made a few phone calls, and generally went about my typical Razzy business (drinking Heineken, reading Fantasy Football blogs, and watching TV). Then, I had one of those divine, Doc-Brown-fell-off-his-toilet-and-cooked-up-the-flux-capacitor moments of inspiration about my Buffalo theory.
My Buffalo theory was an idea I had a while back while writing about the hotness that is Brandi M. from "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels" on Vh1 and realized I had never met an unattractive person from Buffalo. If you can count on native Buffalans for anything, it's that their love for hockey is bordering on achieving Canadian-level amounts of fanaticism, and it's that they are SEXY AS HELL. My buddy G-Cat, one of the hot Buffalo natives upon whose attractive phenotype I based this theory, helped me tweak the paradigm a bit, assuring me that all the fuckable people from Buffalo have all moved away leaving nothing but morbidly obese, wing-stuffed lardasses in his hometown. Thanks to his helpful input, I've now revised my model to reflect that Buffalo's sexworthy natives have all moved to other cities, which works out well for me, since I bet there's lots of them here in Nieuw Amsterdam. However, now, thanks to Morrissey'sHair, my Buffalo theory needs revising yet AGAIN. Also, unfortunately for me, it indicates that the men of Buffalo aren't into the whole Scandinavian white trash thing I've got going on.
Morrissey'sHair casually mentioned that he and his friend were at Uwajimaya because his friend "has an Asian fetish." This same friend hates J.P. Losman because like all Bills fans he spends a lot of time nostalgically rhapsodizing about Jim Kelly, who led the Bills to four straight Super Bowls, all of which they lost, and only a Buffalo native son thinks like that. A light went on in my genius brain and...EUREKA! Hot dudes originally hailing from Buffalo all love the Asian ladies! My buddy G-Cats, while apparently having more fondness and sympathy than Morrissey'sHair's pal for the unfortunate and tragically flawed (with an inconsistent quarterback, a pathetic running back situation, precious few players capable of catching a pass, no defense whatsoever, and one of the crappiest, underachieving offensive lines in the NFL) Bills, ALSO has an Asian fetish. I have never seen him with a non-Asian girlfriend EVER. I have seen him turn down offers from insanely hot non-Asian women. When we went camping the other weekend, in addition to bringing his Asian girlfriend, he had an entire harem of Asian women surrounding him at almost all times. He loves the Asian ladies and is so famous for it that it's often one of the first descriptors you hear of him at a grad school party. I don't know what Morrissey'sHair's friend looks like, but I'd be willing to bet that he's quite the looker given his Buffalo expat status and his lust for the mysterious treasures of the Orient, or whatever.
Too bad these fellas weren't visiting their hometown this past weekend, where the ravenous Korean-American fox Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas, fifth-ranked competitive eater in the world, took home the title of Buffalo's top wing eater when she consumed 173 chicken wings (5.12 pounds) in 12 minutes.
Labels: Canucks, hot chicks, hot dudes, lezbollah, Morrissey'sHair, Razzification, sex, Vh1
Thursday, July 26, 2007
If You Can't Take a Joke, Stay the Fuck Out of Washington.
Being a lawyer sucks for two primary reasons:
a) the general public tend to hate on you; and
b) finding solace amongst your peers is difficult insofar as most lawyers confirm the stereotypes giving rise to reason a, above.
If that weren't enough, most people (myself included) find the justice system itself deeply flawed, from the top down (see, Al Gonzalez, Irv Libby, Paris Hilton, etc...). Every now and then, however, something fucking amazing happens: the system works. And when it does, one can almost hear our Founding Fathers applauding all the way from their plantations in the sky.
Cut to Olympia, Washington, home of the nine biggest judicial playas in the state, and I would venture to say, the entire P-N-Dub: the Supreme Court of the State of Washington.
This morning the Supremes handed down a decision that while lacking in precedential value, will forever be cited by me as undeniable proof that sometimes appellate judges dominate so much butt that all one can do is tip his/her cap in their general direction.
The facts of Woo v. Fireman's Fund Insurance are these:
Robert Woo, an oral surgeon officed in the bustling mecca of commerce that is Auburn, Washington, was sued by a former nurse's assistant for what amounts to the greatest practical joke of all time. You see, Dr. Woo's nurse was an ardent adopter of pot-bellied pigs; she raised several of them, and apparently spoke of them often throughout her 5 year tenure at Woo's office. In turn, Woo incessantly joked about the topic with her, often times saying things to the effect of, "I'm going to barbecue your next adoption", etc. According to Woo (and apparently the nurse as well), the good natured banter simply created a fun work environment. One day, however, perhaps predictably, Woo crossed the line. While performing a procedure on the nurse, a procedure during which the nurse was under general anesthetic, Dr. Woo inserted two "spacers" in her mouth that had been custom-made to resemble boar tusks. He then took a few funny snapshots and circulated them around the office. When nurse found out, she brought suit against Woo for a panoply of torts, eventually settling with him for $250,000.00.
When Woo turned to his malpractice carrier, Fireman's Fund, to tender defense, they refused on the ground that the insurance contract permitted them to avoid coverage for intentional acts. Woo sued them for bad faith, and in a 5-4 decision, the Washington Supreme Court agreed, awarding him $750,000.00 in the process.
You don't have to be an attorney to understand the moral of this story: Dr. Woo is a big ol' pimp, and the Washington State Supreme Court fucking rules. Also, insurance companies blow (as if Hurricane Katrina, the 9-11 tragedy, and John Grisham's "Rainmaker" didn't already hammer that point home). Not sure if Dr. Woo will stay in the practice of dentistry in the wake of his near million dollar windfall, but if he does, that guy's getting my business for the rest of my life.
a) the general public tend to hate on you; and
b) finding solace amongst your peers is difficult insofar as most lawyers confirm the stereotypes giving rise to reason a, above.
If that weren't enough, most people (myself included) find the justice system itself deeply flawed, from the top down (see, Al Gonzalez, Irv Libby, Paris Hilton, etc...). Every now and then, however, something fucking amazing happens: the system works. And when it does, one can almost hear our Founding Fathers applauding all the way from their plantations in the sky.
Cut to Olympia, Washington, home of the nine biggest judicial playas in the state, and I would venture to say, the entire P-N-Dub: the Supreme Court of the State of Washington.
This morning the Supremes handed down a decision that while lacking in precedential value, will forever be cited by me as undeniable proof that sometimes appellate judges dominate so much butt that all one can do is tip his/her cap in their general direction.
The facts of Woo v. Fireman's Fund Insurance are these:
Robert Woo, an oral surgeon officed in the bustling mecca of commerce that is Auburn, Washington, was sued by a former nurse's assistant for what amounts to the greatest practical joke of all time. You see, Dr. Woo's nurse was an ardent adopter of pot-bellied pigs; she raised several of them, and apparently spoke of them often throughout her 5 year tenure at Woo's office. In turn, Woo incessantly joked about the topic with her, often times saying things to the effect of, "I'm going to barbecue your next adoption", etc. According to Woo (and apparently the nurse as well), the good natured banter simply created a fun work environment. One day, however, perhaps predictably, Woo crossed the line. While performing a procedure on the nurse, a procedure during which the nurse was under general anesthetic, Dr. Woo inserted two "spacers" in her mouth that had been custom-made to resemble boar tusks. He then took a few funny snapshots and circulated them around the office. When nurse found out, she brought suit against Woo for a panoply of torts, eventually settling with him for $250,000.00.
When Woo turned to his malpractice carrier, Fireman's Fund, to tender defense, they refused on the ground that the insurance contract permitted them to avoid coverage for intentional acts. Woo sued them for bad faith, and in a 5-4 decision, the Washington Supreme Court agreed, awarding him $750,000.00 in the process.
You don't have to be an attorney to understand the moral of this story: Dr. Woo is a big ol' pimp, and the Washington State Supreme Court fucking rules. Also, insurance companies blow (as if Hurricane Katrina, the 9-11 tragedy, and John Grisham's "Rainmaker" didn't already hammer that point home). Not sure if Dr. Woo will stay in the practice of dentistry in the wake of his near million dollar windfall, but if he does, that guy's getting my business for the rest of my life.
Labels: Law and Order, Morrissey'sHair, P-N-Dub, United States of Asskickery
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Alberto Gonzales
DOB: August 4, 1955
Occupation: U.S. Attorney General, asshole extraordinaire
Hometown: Humble, Texas
Current residence: Washington, D.C.
Douchebaggery: I guess if you overlook the illegal wiretapping, the summary firing of political opponents, the subversion of the right to habeas corpus, the declaring Geneva Convention passages pertaining to torture "obsolete", and the lying to Congress, Alberto Gonzales isn't a bad guy. Unfortunately, those things are all kind of difficult to overlook.
This motherfucker actually pretended to not remember his own middle name and said that "I didn't bestir myself to prepare for this hearing" during one of the chronic bouts of amnesia he suffers from whenever he sits his porky ass in front of the Senate. He doesn't remember anything he's ever written, done, or said, and he can't be bothered with explaining any of his actions because he has no idea why he does anything. Well, asshole, if you're so goddamn incompetent, then WHY ARE YOU THE FUCKING ATTORNEY GENERAL?! I mean, I don't think it's asking too much to expect the nation's lead prosecutor to remember his own middle name!
The whole incompetence act is just insulting. I don't appreciate being regarded by this bloated, toady yes-man as so stupid that I would buy the whole "I don't remember" excuse for pissing all over the Constitution. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss John Ashcroft. Sure, he was trying to jail dissidents, invade privacy, and read my e-mail too, but at least he was up front about being an evil, tyrannical, liberty-eroding dickhead. He also sang songs of his own composing about Jesus and America, and that entertained me. If I met John Ashcroft on the street, I'd compliment him on his musical stylings and request that the next time he gets together with Trent Lott and the other Singing Senators, they sing the barbershop quartet classic known as Rockapella's "Where In The World is Carmen Sandiego?" theme song. If I met Alberto Gonzales, on the other hand, I'd kick him in the balls and ask if that jogged his memory any.
Last night, Morrissey'sHair texted me to request that Alberto get Daily Douchebag honors, so I called him to ask why. Gonzales is like President Bush, Carrot Top, or Spencer from "The Hills"...such a gigantically obvious douchebag that I don't even need to point it out. He said, "Razzy, even ARLEN SPECTER called him a fucking liar!" Good point. Consider Alberto to be Douchebagged.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, Morrissey'sHair, politics, Trent Lott, tyrannical rulers
Monday, July 23, 2007
Lil' Wayne's in this bitch with the Terror...
...except by "this bitch" he means "New York City Jail", and by "the Terror", he means erstwhile Terror Squad collaborator Jeffrey "Ja Rule" Atkins. Yesterday, Dwayne "Lil' Wayne/Weezy F Baby/Tha Carter" Carter was busted for burning some trees outside his tour bus on the Upper West Side. Upon closer investigation by arresting officers, he was also found to be carrying a .40-caliber handgun. Ja Rule, on the other hand, got busted for speeding, but was also found to be packing a Sig Sauer. Both of these gentlemen spent some quality time at the expense of the New York City taxpayers as a result.
Once again, I'm stunned by the stupidity of the average rapper. Lil' Wayne, a man who has lyrics such as "seat way back, listening to Anita Baker, ridin' by myself, smokin' weed by da acre" and "I see she wearin' them jeans that show her butt-crack, my girls can't wear that, why? That's where my stash at," should know that the police may be reasonably suspicious that he's in possession of a class D substance. Furthermore, he CONSTANTLY looks like he's one toke away from a vegetative state:
Like cops aren't suspicious of this guy. You could probably get high if you smoked his fingernail clippings. Everything about him--from his chronically bloodshot eyes to his tattooed teardrops (and has he REALLY killed two people? I doubt it)--screams "arrest me." You'd think that by now he'd have learned to keep his tweeds on the low!
Why didn't he just keep it inside the tour bus? Lil' Wayne gets busted for possession in almost every town he's in, so one would think that at this point, he'd let one of his people carry his shit for him. Or better yet, he'd stuff it down one of "his girls'" ass cracks. And he should definitely not just stand outside on 61st and Columbus for all the people bringing their kids home from the park to pass by. If he doesn't like snitching, then he should be a little more discreet about his illegal activities in a family neighborhood/snitch central. And WHY doesn't he just get a fucking permit for his damn gun? It can't be that hard...he's from the South, home of loose gun control laws! Lil' Wayne is dumb.
*This news update brought to you by LL Cool Jew and Morrissey'sHair, who are both unusually interested in all thangs Dwayne Carter.
Once again, I'm stunned by the stupidity of the average rapper. Lil' Wayne, a man who has lyrics such as "seat way back, listening to Anita Baker, ridin' by myself, smokin' weed by da acre" and "I see she wearin' them jeans that show her butt-crack, my girls can't wear that, why? That's where my stash at," should know that the police may be reasonably suspicious that he's in possession of a class D substance. Furthermore, he CONSTANTLY looks like he's one toke away from a vegetative state:
Like cops aren't suspicious of this guy. You could probably get high if you smoked his fingernail clippings. Everything about him--from his chronically bloodshot eyes to his tattooed teardrops (and has he REALLY killed two people? I doubt it)--screams "arrest me." You'd think that by now he'd have learned to keep his tweeds on the low!
Why didn't he just keep it inside the tour bus? Lil' Wayne gets busted for possession in almost every town he's in, so one would think that at this point, he'd let one of his people carry his shit for him. Or better yet, he'd stuff it down one of "his girls'" ass cracks. And he should definitely not just stand outside on 61st and Columbus for all the people bringing their kids home from the park to pass by. If he doesn't like snitching, then he should be a little more discreet about his illegal activities in a family neighborhood/snitch central. And WHY doesn't he just get a fucking permit for his damn gun? It can't be that hard...he's from the South, home of loose gun control laws! Lil' Wayne is dumb.
*This news update brought to you by LL Cool Jew and Morrissey'sHair, who are both unusually interested in all thangs Dwayne Carter.
Labels: crime and punishment, drugs, guns, Lil' Wayne, LL Cool Jew, Morrissey'sHair, NYC, rap
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair
Name: HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair
Real Name: Raul and Fidel. Just kidding! Their names are withheld--they have important jobs and don't need some judge Googling them and asking them why they associate with a dipshit like myself
DOB: June 21, 1978--THEIR BIRTHDAY IS TODAY!!!!!
Occupation: Attorneys-at-Law. According to their MySpaces, HotLawyer "serves as a check to prevent the government from incarcerating the poor at will" (ie: he provides dumbasses who blow up their meth labs with a vigorous defense) and Morrissey'sHair is "counsel to the insolvent" (ie: he structures bankruptcy settlements).
Hometown: Federal Way, WA in the magnificent P-N-Dub
Current Residence: Tacoma, WA, City of Destiny (HotLawyer) and Seattle, WA, City of Hipster Al Gore-Worshipping Snobs (Morrissey'sHair).
Reasons Why I Want to Hit That Hotness: For starters, it's their birthday. Last year I tracked Morrissey's mopey ass down and forced him to sing for them, because they both are abnormally fixated on him. Last time I was in the P-N-Dub, Morrissey'sHair actually blew off going down to Tacoma for my last Saturday in town because he had to retire early, so he could wake up at the cock's crow and STALK MORRISSEY AROUND SEATTLE all day on Sunday. Their Morrissey fetishes are no joke. Anyway, since this year Morrissey is off touring somewhere (to avoid the same thing happening, no doubt), and I've been slammed with work and didn't have time to go abduct him, I thought I'd give them a shout-out here. I went to high school with these two characters, and back then we mainly functioned as philosophical adversaries in various honors classes-turned-forums for debate. After college, they became my Friendsters, but I didn't see them often since they were off in law school. However, shortly after I started this very website, when there was nothing on it but a 50 Cent album review and some poorly laid out news blurbs about the Pope, they both independently e-mailed me to tell me how great they thought it was. Before any of my closest friends could be persuaded to read my site, HotLawyer and Morrissey'sHair were checking it on the daily. As a result, I consider them both good friends and great guys, and they're right up there with MillerTime on my "must-call-immediately" list when I go back to the P-N-Dub.
I shouldn't actually say they are "Dudes I Want to Hit" because in truth, I've already got carnal knowledge of one of them (and I'm not saying which one) from one very drunken night a long, long time ago. On another occasion, I tried to convince the other one to indulge in the overwhelmingly awesome experience of banging me, if for no other reason than I wanted to take the sexual equivalent of the Pepsi challenge. I mean, come on, who doesn't want to hit a pair of twins?! Unfortunately for me, he gave me some song and dance about how I was like a sister to him and he's known me forever and it would be weird and blah blah blah, so I couldn't do any kind of comparative study. Oh well. I'll just have to settle for their excellent company. They're both super smart, hilarious, witty, swarthy, devastatingly handsome, and I'm lucky to count them among my close friends and most beloved, platinum elite Razzyphiles. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GUYS! Make sure you guys get drunk, get crunk, and get laid!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, HotLawyer, Morrissey'sHair, P-N-Dub
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