Saturday, March 21, 2009
It's whatever, ho
I was spending an exciting Saturday night watching March Madness On Demand working on my thesis, and I was plunged into a fugue state on account of both my brackets being totally ruined with the University of Washington's loss to Purdue this evening. Yes, I know I should not have picked U-Dub to go all the way in either, much less in one, but this year I thought picking a total dark horse and staying true to my home state might just be crazy enough to work. Sadly, it didn't, and now I'll suffer the annual indignity of losing to the girl who picked teams based on their mascots and getting shit from all my dude friends about picking the not-UConn Huskies until at least April. Alas.
Anyway, I decided to seek some distraction so I naturally went straight to Khia's MySpace blog. I figured that as long as I was going to be staring at a bunch of inscrutable bullshit (ie: my thesis), I might as well stare at some entertaining inscrutable bullshit (ie: Khia's manifestos against all her apparent enemies, including but not limited to Porsche Foxx, Trina, Jacki-O, Wendy Williams, Lisa Raye, Rick Ross (I think), and either Chris Brown or Rihanna's "ragedy ass pussy" depending on the circumstances of that whole dust-up). I was pleased to see that Khia's been keeping busy hiring professional Photoshoppers and buying gigantic African drums to straddle so it looks as though she has a bizarrely low-hanging dong for her new album, Nasti Muzik.
Though I'm pretty amazed at the fact that Khia only looks mildly busted here rather than something that would be slain in an old episode of "Buffy," no amount of clever marketing can soften Khia's true edgy nature. I'm assuming she spent all her money getting her cellulite and crazy snaggleteeth airbrushed out of the Nasti Muzik promotional material and thinking of clever props to help disguise her prodigious gut, because THIS is the video from her latest song:
Seriously, that IS "whatever, ho." Obviously this was not a Hype Williams production. It was made by some random Khia fan using scenes from the fucking Sims! Isn't the Sims like a game from like 1998? You know you are in desperate need of some new management when you promote your newest single via some homemade catfight-at-the-club-and-beach-in-stripper-heels fan fiction made with a software package that runs on Windows 95. Frankly, they should just give Khia a camcorder and let her film herself babbling about her various rivalries. If she talks anything like she writes, it's bound to be entertaining, or at least the parts I can understand will be.
Really, not even the sluttiest Rock of Love stripper dress can spice up this (shockingly attractive) Sims avatar that is supposedly Khia telling everyone "whatever, bitch" and smacking them around. I'd like to see the real Khia reading her blog on tape. I don't even care if it's to a beat, because entries such as this have their own innate rhythm and flow and are truly like magic to my ears:
Let's not forget I have something special for Lil Red Ridin Hoe... That Bitch has rode her last ride at the Florida State Fair. Her wristband is expired... The people at the gate said her PUSSY wont sell no moe!!! LMAO!!!I THINK the aforementioned "Lil Red Ridin Hoe" refers to Angela "Jacki-O" Kohn (ha at her real name), who has released a similarly titled album. I would rather see Khia regaling us with all the gruesome details about how Jacki-O "rode her last ride at the Florida State Fair" on account of her suddenly unpopular PUSSY (Khia's emphasis). Or Khia could do PSAs about the ethics involved in "Ike Turnering" a woman. In any event, we ought to see her unveil a stream of priceless, jabbering invective in her full gnarly glory, not transformed into some boring e-video ho by one of the few fans who actually likes Khia's pedestrian and utterly forgettable rap songs.
Khia really needs to quit rapping and become my personal assistant. I've got a thesis that needs (still more) writing. My wristband has expired. I need Khia to come in and show me how it's done, Florida State Fair style! She can write every day and, though I'd probably watch my traffic plummet, I'd e-die happy. Khia is so awesome.
Labels: down with OPB (other people's blogs), I LOVE IT, Khia, MySpace, rap
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A veritable font of wisdom
Let me be the first to say that I loathe dudes who beat up chicks for ANY reason. My position on this is pretty firm. I don't give a fuck if the chick hits the dude first, or if she was sass-talking him, or if she pushed him, or what. The fact is that dudes are bigger than chicks and unless the bitch has a black belt, there's no way some big dude beats on an unarmed woman in self-defense. Period. And I think any bastard who does so is a fucking cowardly, pussified, punk-ass dickbag loser who rightfully deserves to spend some quality time in a prison shower learning some fucking humility. PERIOD. When it comes to wife-beaters, it's ALWAYS the abuser's fault no matter how provocative or maddening the lady was, and I say an emphatic "hang 'em high."
Khia continues with a lengthy stream of consciousness rant that puts The Sound and the Fury to shame in terms of its initial indecipherability. I had to reread it like four times before I realized she seems to express support for my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson in his feud with William Leonard "Rick Ross" Roberts, castigate former radio personality Stephanie "Porsche Foxx" Calhoun for her apparent culpability in a recent string of arsons plaguing Atlanta, and accusing current radio personality Wendy Williams of being transgendered, looking like both the Michelin man and "a OVER fed English bulldog," and having an extremely large neck. She also takes issue with Lisa Raye, the actress who is presently the First Lady of Turks and Caicos, at least until her ugly divorce to the islands' Premier is finalized. Khia seems to think that Lisa was trying to trap the "Count" governing the British territory into a "100 stack booty call" and she ought to flee, since "Turkish women aint got no respect for you Chile! They should have whooped your ass cause they don't play that hoe shit ova there!" I guess Khia is confused about the fact that Turkey is an entirely different place than Turks and Caicos, but since she's obviously putting all her energy into enlightening us as to who is a ho and why, I can forgive her for not brushing up on geography. After I got to the part where Khia advises Lisa Raye that "You will neva be Michelle Obama!!! Go back to the pole and the low budget ass films you know!!!", I couldn't take any more of my mind being blown and got back to work on the considerably less brilliant piece of prose that is my dissertation.
While I might view domestic violence as a very black and white issue, however, I defer to other wise scholars with more profound intellectual gifts than myself to address the shades of gray involved concerning this complex subject matter. For example, this pillar of wisdom:
Namely, the sage known as Khia, a brilliant lyricist who once wrote poetic lines such as "my neck, my back, lick my pussy and my crack" and now provides counsel to lost souls that look to Hood magazine for guidance. Not content to wait until someone asked for her take on the Rihanna-Chris Brown issue via a letter to her advice column in Hood, Khia took to her MySpace blog to describe the exact type of situations that may be appropriate for "Ike Turnering" a woman:
Nowwwwww… Let’s get started!!! What the HELL is really going on with these hoes getting knocked in they EYE?? Face crammed ALL in the STEERING wheel!!!! Now… Rihanna… If you got WARTS all on dat RAGEDY ass PUSSY.. SPREADING dat FUNKY MONKEY around….You needed dat ASS beat !!! Passing off diseases to my beautiful BLACK KINGS!! But if not… Chris Brown… You was DEAD ASS WRONG!!!!! First it was Gucci, then Rocko and now….. Chris Brown!!! Yall niggas aint gone keep Ike Turnering dese hoes cuz the industry getting ready to shut yall niggas DOWN!!! HELLLL…… Much shit as the Queen talk I don’t know nann nigga GONE hit ME in my eye…….Uhh-Uhh!!!!I did hear rumors that Rihanna may have infected Chris Brown with herpes that she got from banging Jay-Z. As a virologist, I would correct Khia that herpes lesions, which are caused by herpes simplex virus, are different both etiologically and morphologically from genital warts, which are caused by human papillomaviruses. I know nothing about whether or not Rihanna is, at the ripe old age of 21, in possession of a "RAGEDY ass PUSSY," and I disagree with Khia's stance that inadvertantly spreading any sort of "FUNKY MONKEY" around is justification for being beaten and bitten to disfigurement by one of Khia's beloved BLACK KINGS. I do agree that regardless of the RAGEDY ass condition of Rihanna's genitalia, Chris Brown is indeed DEAD ASS WRONG and he ought to cease and desist with the Ike Turnering, especially considering that Khia is correct about his career being basically over. I also thank her for advising me that Gucci Mane and Rocko are apparently wife beaters as well, so I will steer clear of them the next time I'm in Hotlanta (assuming they're anywhere near the Chili's at the airport, which is pretty much the only place in Atlanta I've ever popped bottles at).
Khia continues with a lengthy stream of consciousness rant that puts The Sound and the Fury to shame in terms of its initial indecipherability. I had to reread it like four times before I realized she seems to express support for my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson in his feud with William Leonard "Rick Ross" Roberts, castigate former radio personality Stephanie "Porsche Foxx" Calhoun for her apparent culpability in a recent string of arsons plaguing Atlanta, and accusing current radio personality Wendy Williams of being transgendered, looking like both the Michelin man and "a OVER fed English bulldog," and having an extremely large neck. She also takes issue with Lisa Raye, the actress who is presently the First Lady of Turks and Caicos, at least until her ugly divorce to the islands' Premier is finalized. Khia seems to think that Lisa was trying to trap the "Count" governing the British territory into a "100 stack booty call" and she ought to flee, since "Turkish women aint got no respect for you Chile! They should have whooped your ass cause they don't play that hoe shit ova there!" I guess Khia is confused about the fact that Turkey is an entirely different place than Turks and Caicos, but since she's obviously putting all her energy into enlightening us as to who is a ho and why, I can forgive her for not brushing up on geography. After I got to the part where Khia advises Lisa Raye that "You will neva be Michelle Obama!!! Go back to the pole and the low budget ass films you know!!!", I couldn't take any more of my mind being blown and got back to work on the considerably less brilliant piece of prose that is my dissertation.
If you are remotely interested in being completely astounded, I strongly suggest you get with Khia's MySpace blog. It reads like what would happen if a Cylon hybrid got out of her bathtub on the basestar, moved to the Suitcase City neighborhood of Tampa, and decided to see what it would be like if James Joyce started a MySpace feud with Trina and the entire population of Atlanta's hip-hop radio DJs (not that I know what a "Cylon hybrid" actually is...some nerd who watches some show that sounds something like "Gattlestar Balactica" came in and fucked with my computer, that's how that got there). Anyway, how could you not benefit from a woman who has had enough brushes with the Florida state department of corrections to warrant such a lovely mosaic of mug shots? Khia rules.
Labels: down with OPB (other people's blogs), hilarious shit, I LOVE IT, MySpace, rap
Friday, September 12, 2008
This is why internet dating is for losers
I have a firm and unimpeachable policy against internet dating. Partly this is because after acquiring a zillion unsolicited rejects from Friendster a few years back, I realized that the majority of people trolling for dates online are hideous degenerates I wouldn't want to stand next to on the subway, much less meet under romantic pretexts. Validating this is my now-passé MySpace account, the inbox of which is regularly filled with tempting solicitations like these:
Uh, "muah" to you too. Consider that a kiss OFF. Why, indeed.
Is that a hint, Justin? You want me to Yahoo messenger you? Sorry, but apart from my oft-referenced beauty, I am not sure how much I'd have to chat about with a fella whose handle is "Sweeetdicwilly." Usually because guys who imply they answer to a name like that usually have a dic/willy that is anything but "sweeet."
Well, that's a nice sentiment. I cute and good looking. I also, unfortunately for this dude, have an annoying habit of expecting my correspondents to use punctuation. I am indeed a "very chill cool person" but I'm somewhat of an intellectual elitist in the sense that I expect my paramours to have mastered the basics of second grade grammar.
This is in reference to the picture of me straddling a male stripper's face. I'd like to remind Fat Joe here that the gentleman in that photograph was paid to do that. Although I can't see what Joe looks like from the neck down, I am willing to wager that he doesn't quite have the physique of Brad the Butterface Stripper and thus can't get into that line of work. Keep wishing, Joe.
Well, I don't get 200 e-mails like that a day, but I have banged a few lawyers here and there. In fact, it would probably benefit my cause to bang a lawyer with some expertise in online free speech and defamation law, given some of my history with crazy dickheads and the civil court system. However, given that this message completely failed to persuade me to MySpace him back, I can't imagine that this guy would do much to persuade a judge or jury on my behalf in court. Not to mention I've never met a fuckworthy guy of any profession who essentially begged me to return his social networking message. PASS.
I'm the sexiest woman on all of MySpace? Even sexier than Tila Tequila? NO WAY! Too bad that given that overcompensating muscly topless photo of George, I'm willing to bet that he has THE smallest penis on this whole damn site! Wow!!!
Ah, yes, you've got to love the guys trying to fix up a threesome on MySpace. They're the ones who figure that dropping a few keywords like "naughty" and "curious" are a surefire method to get any bisexual chick into their pants. And even though this guy looks like a bizarre amalgam of a fisherman from "Deadliest Catch" and a contestant on "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila," I just can't be persuaded to go "play with" anyone who doesn't know that "a lot" is TWO WORDS. Besides, like I'm going to the Bronx. I broke up with a guy once because he moved to the Bronx. Well, that, and he had weird nipples, didn't know how to use a condom, and said "cummed" instead of "came" (which REALLY bothered me for some reason), but the dealbreaker was the ride to the end of the D train I'd have to take to see him. Fuck that.
Apparently not. But that's probably because I don't e-flirt with small children.
Well, thank God. I am glad that my looking good in all of my pictures is something to laugh out loud about.
Uh, "muah" to you too. Consider that a kiss OFF. Why, indeed.
Is that a hint, Justin? You want me to Yahoo messenger you? Sorry, but apart from my oft-referenced beauty, I am not sure how much I'd have to chat about with a fella whose handle is "Sweeetdicwilly." Usually because guys who imply they answer to a name like that usually have a dic/willy that is anything but "sweeet."
Well, that's a nice sentiment. I cute and good looking. I also, unfortunately for this dude, have an annoying habit of expecting my correspondents to use punctuation. I am indeed a "very chill cool person" but I'm somewhat of an intellectual elitist in the sense that I expect my paramours to have mastered the basics of second grade grammar.
This is in reference to the picture of me straddling a male stripper's face. I'd like to remind Fat Joe here that the gentleman in that photograph was paid to do that. Although I can't see what Joe looks like from the neck down, I am willing to wager that he doesn't quite have the physique of Brad the Butterface Stripper and thus can't get into that line of work. Keep wishing, Joe.
Well, I don't get 200 e-mails like that a day, but I have banged a few lawyers here and there. In fact, it would probably benefit my cause to bang a lawyer with some expertise in online free speech and defamation law, given some of my history with crazy dickheads and the civil court system. However, given that this message completely failed to persuade me to MySpace him back, I can't imagine that this guy would do much to persuade a judge or jury on my behalf in court. Not to mention I've never met a fuckworthy guy of any profession who essentially begged me to return his social networking message. PASS.
I'm the sexiest woman on all of MySpace? Even sexier than Tila Tequila? NO WAY! Too bad that given that overcompensating muscly topless photo of George, I'm willing to bet that he has THE smallest penis on this whole damn site! Wow!!!
Ah, yes, you've got to love the guys trying to fix up a threesome on MySpace. They're the ones who figure that dropping a few keywords like "naughty" and "curious" are a surefire method to get any bisexual chick into their pants. And even though this guy looks like a bizarre amalgam of a fisherman from "Deadliest Catch" and a contestant on "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila," I just can't be persuaded to go "play with" anyone who doesn't know that "a lot" is TWO WORDS. Besides, like I'm going to the Bronx. I broke up with a guy once because he moved to the Bronx. Well, that, and he had weird nipples, didn't know how to use a condom, and said "cummed" instead of "came" (which REALLY bothered me for some reason), but the dealbreaker was the ride to the end of the D train I'd have to take to see him. Fuck that.
Apparently not. But that's probably because I don't e-flirt with small children.
Well, thank God. I am glad that my looking good in all of my pictures is something to laugh out loud about.
Man, if I had a dollar for every time someone on MySpace saluted me with "hey sexy," I'd be a very rich woman. Clearly all the Razzy Haters who like to tell me that I'm fat, old, or ugly haven't been spending enough time perusing my MySpace profile.
Anyway, between the random propositioning on MySpace and the rejects of yore from Friendster, I pretty much decided that if this is the kind of dating scene that materializes without even trying, I can't even imagine the kind of freaks that are on actual dating sites. This supposition has been verified by every friend I know who has tried online dating. Sure, a few of my friends have met the occasional awesome person this way, but they had to kiss a LOT of proverbial frogs first. I've heard all sorts of stories. One of my friends met someone who was actually a porn producer recruiting new talent. Another friend met someone who claimed that he "didn't like fun." My lesbian apprentice Twathopper has made one disastrous crazy bitch acquaintance after another thanks to her forays into online dating. In fact, the only time she met a chick who WASN'T crazy, they became platonic friends and I ended up banging her. Otherwise, Twathopper has racked up a resumé full of lunatics, but this didn't stop her from going online with a fresh sense of hope that maybe–just MAYBE–this time she might meet a nice, normal girl who was down to watch some female singer/songwriters performing live indie folk music and not cause her too much trouble.
Unfortunately, she didn't get past signing in to Match.com before being repelled by the twats on there. She first found this profile, and I think it identifies the exact problem with online dating: a complete lack of touch with reality on the part of the people engaged in this activity.
Yes, how can I make myself look attractive for all the lonely single lesbians on Match.com? I KNOW! I'll style myself like I just walked off a box of Massengill and give myself the most obnoxiously pretentious screen name possible. Nothing turns on the ladies more than a recently douched "artsysociologis" who has conquered that not-so-fresh feeling.
Once again, I firmly espouse my strong "internet dating is for losers" stance. If you want to get laid, just suck it up like a normal, socially functional human being and go get drunk at a bar!
Labels: gross, lezbollah, MySpace, oh the horror, real-life rejects, sluts
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Daily Douchebag: "A Shot At Love 2 with Tila Tequila"
DOB: April 22, 2008
Occupation: being too big of a sham dating show in the world of sham dating shows for even me to like it
Hometown: MySpace
Current residence: MTV
Douchebaggery: "A Shot at Love 2 with (fake bisexual MySpace skank) Tila Thien Than Thi Nguyen Tequila" actually has many things I should love in principle, such as softcore girl-on-girl action, catfights, guido dudes beating down dudes with frosted hair, and commercial breaks advertising CD compilations with titles like Tropical Thunder. However, Tila Tequila sucks and so does her show. I, for one, am NOT interested in a shot at love with her busted ass.
I have gotten over this in the past to enjoy many contrived reality dating shows in which a completely unattractive person sorts through a bevy of skanks to find "love." I've watched "Flavor of Love" and "Rock of Love," and I used to have a standing date with my pal JerseyGirl to watch "I Love New York" because for a while we declared that "the best reality show on television" (not to be confused with the greatest show in the history of television, which always was and always will be "Beverly Hills, 90210"). I even watched the first season of "A Shot at Love" and somewhat enjoyed it, or at least enjoyed discussing Dani the firefighter with all my lesbo friends. However, after watching about 5 minutes of the show last night, I've come to realize that I actually LOATHE this show, and Tila Tequila is the least likable would-be paramour in the history of reality dating shows. I've come up with several reasons:
1. Tila Tequila looks like the kind of woman whose vagina secretes battery acid. Not to say that I'm not a total ho-bag myself, but compared to Tila, I seem like a sophisticated lady. I would never wear a midriff-baring plaid stripper costume to meet my boyfriend/girlfriend's parents, nor would I give said love interest's grandmother a lap dance to warm her up to the idea of bisexuality. Any chick who would displays poor judgment, and I can only assume that judgment applies to maintenance of her cooch. I may be a slut, but I am for the most part pretty good about condom use these days and I also get my shit checked out regularly to ensure that I remain, in Lil' Kim's estimation, "a disease-free bitch." I don't trust that Tila has been so judicious with regards to maintaining her own snatch, and not only do I have zero desire to wind up on a lifelong Valtrex regimen, I have zero desire the go anywhere near a vagina that may well have actual teeth.
2. Tila Tequila is disingenuous and has a tremendously inflated opinion of herself. She's not gay, she LOVES to make herself out like the world's busiest A-list celebrity when in truth she's a fake-titted whore who looks like some sort of bizarre amalgam of a Hello Kitty doll and a beat-down hooker working the track. Tila acts like her ideal boy/girlfriend would be able to "handle" Tila's extreme schedule of media whoring and writhing around for the cover of various car magazines marketed to dudes with small penises (TRUST...if your boyfriend is all into spoilers and engines and ground effects and customized car shit like that, RUN don't walk, because he's packing a chapstick). In fact, if you go to the "A Shot at Love 2" Wikipedia page, you will notice that some of the reasons she eliminated contestants include things like "creeped her out by 'doing too much research on the internet' on her" and "was too much of a stalker." While I can attest that when someone does too much research on the internets on me is indeed a huge turn-off, I also have to say to Tila that it comes with the fucking territory when you are an omega-list internet celebrity. If I write about my life on the internets, then it's a given that I'm going to field a few e-mails from random people talking to me like they've known me for years, or looking up my Facebook/MySpace pages, or whatever else. Tila should know, since she's in the real alphabet of internet celebrity what with all those millions of MySpace friends. She's at least an F-list internet celebrity, so she needs to stop getting surprised or shocked when the people on her dating show actually have the audacity to read the personal information about her that she's worked so hard to get online.
3. Tila Tequila actually requires these hoes to "fall in love" with her to continue having a shot at getting into her herpetic pants. I fail to see the inherent love-creating properties of activities that resemble an episode of "Double Dare" meets "Fear Factor" populated by people who all have at least one "Girls Gone Wild" credential on their CVs, and it's amazing to me that anyone could find true love amid such a shitshow. I suppose another thing complicating Tila's ability to fall in love with the ladies is the fact that she's NOT EVEN GAY! I'd wager my left ovary that if Tila's ever dined on tuna tacos, it's because her boyfriend asked her to. I'd wager my right ovary, though, that Tila has never been to a clam bake, because she realized long ago that merely kissing girls gets her a lot of attention from dudes, and why bother being a big lez in the bedroom when you can just fake it convincingly for the benefit of MySpace and MTV's audience! What does that leave us with? I have a full set of ovaries and every bitch on "A Shot at Love" has been played for a fool. Fall in love. Sha right, Tila Tequila!
4. Tila Tequila has no talent. In spite of Tila saying that she only likes go-getters who have actual careers and taking credit for the legalization of gay marriage in California, the only thing Tila has ACTUALLY done is showcase her attention whoring skills. After proving that she's the biggest hooker-ass prosty in the world of social networking, she's managed to bring her wardrobe fresh off the Rave clearance rack and her genital lesions to the small screen and that's IT! She doesn't act, sing, dance, write, or do anything that could actually be considered a job, unless you count modeling for jerk-off calendars marketed toward The Fast and the Furious set a career. Again, I know I'm a big hooker-ass prosty for internets attention as well, but at least I have a day job, and I could convince anyone who isn't a grad student that this job is somewhat useful to my fellow man. What the fuck does Tila do besides show us all what a cut-rate breast aug she got in a wardrobe of Forever 21 stripper clothes whenever possible?
5. Seriously, does ANYONE want to fuck Tila Tequila besides losers who believe 9/11 conspiracies and spend all day on MySpace wanking it and sending me messages like "hai hoynee wana chat my aim is polerigger420 holer at me kewtie pi!!!!!" and "dam ur sexiee gurl! u gota mann?" and the more rare but nonetheless extant "u lik girls? cal me i lik girls 2"? NO! I wouldn't fuck Tila Tequila and I'm a skank-ass ho myself. Usually I wouldn't pass up a hot chick in the mood for some oysters on the half shell, but I'd rather fuck Paris Hilton than Tila Tequila for public health reasons alone, which is a sad statement indeed. Luckily for the female contestants, Tila Tequila isn't really gay and isn't going to give them molluscum contagiosum or any of those weird lesbian STDs. Not as lucky for the girls and the guys is the fact that you can get herpes by kissing.
I pray that Tila finds love this time around, because I'm not sure I can stand another season of faux bisexuality and shockingly arrogant retardation as only Tila Tequila can serve up. If she doesn't, I might start thinking I'm too old for MTV, and that will mean giving up incredibly deep, painstakingly produced, tightly scripted productions of high art like "The Hills"! That can't happen, so MTV needs to tell Tila next time around that her shots at love have run the fuck out.
Labels: assholes, Daily Douchebag, lezbollah, media whores, MySpace, sluts, TV
Monday, June 16, 2008
Daily Douchebag: Tila Tequila
DOB: October 24, 1981
Occupation: MySpace and reality TV whore
Hometown: Alief, Texas via Singapore via Vietnam
Current residence: Hollywood, California
Douchebaggery: The other day, Tila Tequila was enjoying all the perks of being a Q-list media whore, like tickets to the premiere of The Love Guru. While walking the red carpet alongside luminaries like Verne Troyer and the Stanley Cup, Tila decided to take credit for the California Supreme Court's recent decision to legalize gay marriage.
“It is because of me. I definitely think (my show) has helped the movement,” Tequila told Us Weekly at the Hollywood premiere of “The Love Guru” on Wednesday.Yes, I am sure that while deliberating the finer nuances of constitutional law in their chambers, the highest court in America's most populous state tipped the scales in gay marriage's favor by watching a bunch of trashy strippers wrestle in a vat of pudding in hope of winning the chance to swap herpes lesion exudate with MySpace's skankiest faux bisexual on "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila." I'm sure that watching Tila climbing into a communal bed with a troupe of pole-rubbing hoochies or giving lap dances to their dear old grandmas really mitigated any apprehension about the consequences of letting the homos file joint tax returns and or having the same spousal rights as those afforded to heterosexual married couples. Clearly, California's Supreme Court justices realized how discriminatory it is to prevent gay people the same legal status as their heterosexual counterparts thanks to being titillated by an exploitative shitshow that uses Tila's supposed lesbian tendencies as an excuse for an unabashedly fame-starved slut to make out with girls on TV. The queers of California are in your fucking debt, Tila Tequila.
“Before it came out, everyone was still a little apprehensive about (same sex relationships),” she said. “Then they realized, ‘Wow, everyone is really into this stuff, and it is fine.’ The next thing you know, (gay marriage) is legal.”
Seriously, who the fuck does this dumb slag think she is? First off, Tila's original "Shot at Love" ended with her choosing the dude to get with over Dani, the Floridian firefighter who had all my superfemme lesbian friends in a huge tizzy over her Converse-Izod chic sexiness. Second, rumor has it that Tila Tequila isn't even gay. I believe this, because not only did she dump the aforementioned Dani (who was WAY less douchetastic than the guy Tila chose and promptly ditched in order to secure a second season of unrealistic reality sluttery on MTV), she acts like she's bored with all the girls on the show all the time and never presses her advantage to get some poon. Kissing girls is no big deal, and almost every girl I know has done it at one point or another. It's a given that Tila is an infamous slut, so one would think that if she's really bisexual, tuna tacos would be on the menu every night at the "Shot at Love" house. If I were in Tila's shoes with 30 girls and boys all trying to get with me, I'd be the world's most voracious seafood and sausage aficionado, but Tila doesn't do much besides smooch and act like she's some sort of sophisticated dignitary who just happens to wear lucite stilettos with pleather midriff-baring strapless minidresses and enjoys making her suitors compete in sexually charged "Double Dare"-esque physical challenges for her affections.
Tila Tequila needs to stick with what she knows, specifically, picking tacky dresses off the clearance rack at Rave that showcase her cheaply augmented tits and maintaining her dominance of the MySpace whore circuit. She is not doing ANYTHING for the gay marriage movement except associating it unfairly with vapid attention-craving tramps like herself. I have one word for Tila Tequila, and that is STFU!
Labels: Daily Douchebag, lezbollah, media whores, MySpace, retard rage, scathing indictments, sluts, TV
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: plaintiff R.O.
RAZZY Note: This isn't R.O., as his identity is a mystery due to his minor status. Since I couldn't get a picture of the real deal, I just Googled "asshole kid" and this is one of the pictures that popped up.
Name: R.O.
DOB: 1996? (JESUS CHRIST, I am old...that's the year I graduated high school)
Occupation: expelled eighth grader, hilarious kid
Hometown: Parma, Ohio
Current residence: Parma, Ohio
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: OBVIOUSLY, I'm not trying to do the nasty with an eighth grader. In fact, if I were to even pretend I wanted to do such a thing, it would probably only be a clever ruse to meet hot predator catcher Chris Hansen. I've written this off as a strategy for meeting Chris, however, since he doesn't usually take the predators he catches out for a fancy dinner followed by dirty sex. Also, I generally hate children, so there's no way I have the capacity for even considering having sex with anyone under the age of 18. In fact, after disastrous rolls in the hay with some younger men (in their early twenties) recently, I'm not sure I ever want to sleep with anyone under the age of 30. However, my own immeasurable biases against younger people aside, I couldn't let this kid's hotness go unnoticed.
R.O. decided to get back at his mean middle school principal by posting a fake MySpace profile. In said profile, he describes the principal's interests as "giving students anal" and "jacking off in my office," claimed he "also fucked my assistant principal Heidi Zimmerman," listed his favorite movies as "gay porn," and claimed his heroes are "Michael Jackson, Adolf Hitler, Saddam Husain (sic), and my purple penatrater (sic)."
I have to say, this is pretty damn good material for an eighth grader. When I was in the eighth grade, there was no MySpace, but if there were, I doubt I'd come up with anything as good as saying my enemy's favorite TV show was "Boy Meets Dildo." The term "penetrator" wasn't even in my vocabulary. When I was in grade school, we had to sing a song that was obviously written by some extremely kiss-ass teacher to our principal on "Principal Appreciation Day" or some bullshit like that. It went a little something like this:
Mrs. Milam, she's our gal,
Her husband sells cars better than Cal (her husband owned a car dealership which competed fiercely with a rival Ford dealer owned by a local advertising media whore named Cal Worthington)
"Sorry to interrupt," we hear her say (a reference to her standard greeting over the school PA system)
And then she comes and makes our day.
The best my class could come up with was to change "her husband sells cars better than Cal" to "she's been sleeping in bed with Cal" and "then she comes and makes our day" to "then she comes and ruins our day." That's pretty pathetic that our attempts at satire merely implied Mrs. Milam was having an extramarital affair with Cal Worthington. We obviously missed an untapped gold mine of comedy related to her being a gay pedophile. Kids these days are growing up fast.
Even better is the fact that this kid got booted from school for this prank on grounds of "malicious harassment," and he's suing the school district! Thanks again to court documents posted at The Smoking Gun, I was able to determine that his lawyers are arguing that this MySpace profile "in any way disrupted school or that anyone had taken the content contained in the web site as a serious recitation of defendant Cook's personal characteristics or preferences or that anyone really believed the web site was crated (sic--don't you lawyers have spell check?) by defendant Cook." While normally I root enthusiastically against children, in this case, I'm hoping that this kid gets back into school and gets punitive damages. The "princeypal" should have given him an award for his precocious wit and encouraged his comic talents rather than booting him from school and disrupting his education. Besides, while I'm sure the principal isn't "giving anal to students," he's probably jacked off in his office before. Privacy enabling workplace masturbation is the number one benefit to having an office in the first place!
Furthermore, I applaud R.O. for standing up for his constitutional rights. I think it's bullshit that the principal wanted to trample all over R.O.'s first amendment rights just because it made him look like a homosexual pederast. R.O. shouldn't be denied a public education just for exercising his right to free speech. The last time I checked, the Bill of Rights didn't exclude juvenile jabs at one's principal's sex life. I'm surprised the ACLU isn't on this one. This could set important precedents for civil liberties. I say take it all the way to the Supreme Court!
Seriously, if R.O. wasn't anonymous, I'd offer him a coveted spot as a contributor on RAZZY.org, and that's something he could really brag about. You can ask any of the other occasional writers on here about how hard it is to get a Blogger invite from me. I require writing samples, a full and unabridged CV, and at least ten references...except by "writing samples" I mean an email demanding that I write about something I'm not in the mood to write about, by "full and unabridged CV" I mean that I know you somehow, and by "ten references" I mean we've gotten drunk together. Getting your fake Razzy name on the sidebar is a grueling process more arduous than getting into Harvard without a legacy admission. I've got a spot reserved for R.O. if he ever reveals his true identity.
Labels: armchair barristry, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, destroy all children, intentional buffoonery, kewlness, MySpace
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
I don't think ur cute
My friend El Polaco just informed me that I sent him a MySpace comment saying that I thought he was cute or something. Judging by the obscenely poor grammar and the fact that I think every moment spent on MySpace takes years off my life, he ascertained that I was not, in fact, the author of said comment which I sent to all my friends, including myself. For the record, El Polaco is cute, but he's also a big, sweet, gay bear so my thoughts on his cuteness are not particularly relevant to either of us in a practical sense.
So if we're MySpace friends and you get some sort of retarded comment from me, then please know that my account has presumably been hacked. I've changed my password so hopefully that will fix the problem. I have not developed the burning desire to tell everyone how they "r cute" or how I have a crush on them or something. If you got a comment from me mocking you and being obnoxious, that would be more believable. I don't think you are cute. In fact, I probably think you're fat, ugly, and not as smart as me. And even if did characterize one's appearance as "cute," I would phrase it a little differently (ie: "I'd totally hit that hot piece", "I'd eff the bejesus out of him/her", etc). I would also probably express it via a different medium than a comment for all of MySpace to see. Like over drinks. Or on this website. Anything but MySpace.
So if we're MySpace friends and you get some sort of retarded comment from me, then please know that my account has presumably been hacked. I've changed my password so hopefully that will fix the problem. I have not developed the burning desire to tell everyone how they "r cute" or how I have a crush on them or something. If you got a comment from me mocking you and being obnoxious, that would be more believable. I don't think you are cute. In fact, I probably think you're fat, ugly, and not as smart as me. And even if did characterize one's appearance as "cute," I would phrase it a little differently (ie: "I'd totally hit that hot piece", "I'd eff the bejesus out of him/her", etc). I would also probably express it via a different medium than a comment for all of MySpace to see. Like over drinks. Or on this website. Anything but MySpace.
Labels: computer incompetence, MySpace, Razzification
Monday, December 03, 2007
Liar, liar, whore's crotch on fire!
So for some reason, I watch that "Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" trash. In case you are not familiar with what the kids these days are jamming to on MTV, it's a show in which Tila Tequila searches for romance among a bevy of suitors. Since Tila's main claim to fame is being the most popular skank on the social e-cesspool known as MySpace and she is not nearly as entertaining to watch as Tiffany "New York" Pollard, the show's twist is that Tila is bisexual and is choosing from a pool of reality fame whores representing both genders. However, it seems there is more afoot on the set of "A Shot at Love" than the MTV producers would have us believe. In another example reminding everyone why the New York Post is the greatest publication in the history of print journalism (fuck off, snobby Times readers!), Richard Johnson has this shocking expose on Page Six:
I've been suspicious of Tila's slut credentials from day one of this show. For starters, all the contestants on this show sleep on one massive bed. If I had a bed populated with male model bodybuilder wannabes and lesbian strippers, priority numero uno would be effing each and every last one of them. So far, Tila's played coy, doing little more than some light making out with some of them. Nobody is watching this shit to see Tila process with these assholes: we want to see her act like the whore she's marketed herself as! Get with the orgy-having, already, because memo to Tila Tequila: you are not bisexual until you lick some snatch. Making out with girls and boobmashing does not count., because as the Post so astutely points out, you can get any bitch to do that if you feed her enough sea breezes. I cannot count the number of straight drunk girls I've made out with, and 99% of them did not wind up sitting on my face. Apparently at the "Welcome to Grad School, First-Years" party this year which I hosted as co-president of the grad school student body, instead of kissing babies I worked it politically by kissing 5 or 6 different girls who had been enjoying the open bar. People are still talking about the hot makeout sesh I publicly engaged in with this second-year who went to Mount Holyoke (Seven Sisters represent!). However, I didn't score any pussy that night, because all those girls ARE STRAIGHT! Making out with me doesn't make them bi.
I have a suggestion for MTV if they want to continue with the "Shot at Love" franchise since that duplicitous-ass bitch Tila won't dump her secret real-life boyfriend: PICK ME! Not only am I smarter and more witty than Tila, but I'll also show my boobs, get drunk on the regular, and give every last contestant a test drive in that giant bed. And I'm also cooperative, easy to work with, and actually bisexual, so there will be plenty of sincere hot girl-on-girl going on. I'll show up ready to craft some exquisite reality with a suitcase full of sex toys and a readiness to bring the drama by getting it on with everyone in sight. It's true that I only only have 600-something MySpace friends as opposed to Tila's two million, but if it's bisexual bachelorettes who know how to keep things lively you're looking for, I'm your girl, MTV!
Besides, MTV is going to need to make it up to their "Shot at Love" viewers who have devoted themselves to the adoration of Dani, the butch lesbian firefighter who is one of Tila's final three candidates. Specifically, LL Cool Jew and El Cyd, founding members of the Cult of Dani, will go ballistic when Tila breaks Dani's sensitive lesbian heart by noting that she's actually looking for a shot at cultural relevance as opposed to love, and will not be riding off into the sunset beside her in Dani's Subaru Outback. "A Shot at Casual Sex with Thirty-Two Unemployed Foodservice Employees and/or Exotic Dancers Of Both Genders with Razzy" is how MTV can make things right.
SELF-proclaimed bisexual MTV skank Tila Tequila may actually be straight as an arrow. The gay-for-pay bikini babe stars in a "A Shot at Love With Tila Tequila," about her search for the perfect mate - male or female. But it's "all a sham," says a source close to the show. "Tila has and has had a boyfriend for over a year, and she's not really bi. She's made out with some girls in her past, as all girls have, but she is not bi at all." Our insider claims that MTV works hard to pretend she's single and available because she refuses to break up with her boyfriend, "who's like five years older than her. This is a massive scam . . . That's why they are not continuing with the show [for a second season], because she won't dump him." Tequila has also been acting like "a diva" and become a "nightmare to work with," said the source. "She arrives late and doesn't talk to any of the contestants between takes. She complains she has too much going on." A rep for Tequila said, "I'll confirm that she's bisexual and she's a delight to work with."SHA RIGHT, Tila Tequila's rep! Nobody is surprised to find out that she's a fake bisexual and a bitch. I would frankly be surprised to hear that Tila, a woman primarily famous for her trucker hat-bikini combos, her claims that she porked the indigent nail-polished despicable hipster mess who answers to Jared Leto, and her ability to parlay ZERO talent apart from aptitude at manipulating online social networks and the fact that she looks like she just stepped out of a hentai anime porn into some sort of Z-list fame, ISN'T a big faker and a mean-spirited cunt with a severe case of self-aggrandization.
I've been suspicious of Tila's slut credentials from day one of this show. For starters, all the contestants on this show sleep on one massive bed. If I had a bed populated with male model bodybuilder wannabes and lesbian strippers, priority numero uno would be effing each and every last one of them. So far, Tila's played coy, doing little more than some light making out with some of them. Nobody is watching this shit to see Tila process with these assholes: we want to see her act like the whore she's marketed herself as! Get with the orgy-having, already, because memo to Tila Tequila: you are not bisexual until you lick some snatch. Making out with girls and boobmashing does not count., because as the Post so astutely points out, you can get any bitch to do that if you feed her enough sea breezes. I cannot count the number of straight drunk girls I've made out with, and 99% of them did not wind up sitting on my face. Apparently at the "Welcome to Grad School, First-Years" party this year which I hosted as co-president of the grad school student body, instead of kissing babies I worked it politically by kissing 5 or 6 different girls who had been enjoying the open bar. People are still talking about the hot makeout sesh I publicly engaged in with this second-year who went to Mount Holyoke (Seven Sisters represent!). However, I didn't score any pussy that night, because all those girls ARE STRAIGHT! Making out with me doesn't make them bi.
I have a suggestion for MTV if they want to continue with the "Shot at Love" franchise since that duplicitous-ass bitch Tila won't dump her secret real-life boyfriend: PICK ME! Not only am I smarter and more witty than Tila, but I'll also show my boobs, get drunk on the regular, and give every last contestant a test drive in that giant bed. And I'm also cooperative, easy to work with, and actually bisexual, so there will be plenty of sincere hot girl-on-girl going on. I'll show up ready to craft some exquisite reality with a suitcase full of sex toys and a readiness to bring the drama by getting it on with everyone in sight. It's true that I only only have 600-something MySpace friends as opposed to Tila's two million, but if it's bisexual bachelorettes who know how to keep things lively you're looking for, I'm your girl, MTV!
Besides, MTV is going to need to make it up to their "Shot at Love" viewers who have devoted themselves to the adoration of Dani, the butch lesbian firefighter who is one of Tila's final three candidates. Specifically, LL Cool Jew and El Cyd, founding members of the Cult of Dani, will go ballistic when Tila breaks Dani's sensitive lesbian heart by noting that she's actually looking for a shot at cultural relevance as opposed to love, and will not be riding off into the sunset beside her in Dani's Subaru Outback. "A Shot at Casual Sex with Thirty-Two Unemployed Foodservice Employees and/or Exotic Dancers Of Both Genders with Razzy" is how MTV can make things right.
Labels: assholes, lezbollah, LL Cool Jew, media whores, MySpace, nudity, Razzification, sex, sluts, TV
Thursday, November 01, 2007
One tequila, two tequila, Tila Tequila...WHORE
I came across a typically elitist New York Times review of "Shot at Love with Tila Tequila," a reality show on MTV that makes me want to immolate myself while watching but that I oddly can't seem to turn off.
Only the NY Times can tackle Tila Tequila in such an erudite manner, for example describing how "her large head sits atop a pert pneumatic torso. Perhaps it is the way her wide-set eyes give her the look of a figure from an anime cartoon. Perhaps it is the steeliness of her will to succeed on whatever terms and the insistent sincerity she brings to the task"
The article includes other priceless gems such as those that follow:
On comparing Tila's career trajectory with those of other contemporary successful women:
Anyway, the Times article ends with this zinger of a quote in which Ms. Tequila demonstrates that, while she can do a mean job of splaying herself on the hood of a tricked-out car, she isn't very practiced at recognizing hypocrisy when she sees it: “The press and the media have glorified the celebrity thing and brainwashed people to live in that world,” Ms. Tequila said. “People try to stand out for nothing and they end up getting quote-unquote famous. I’m not into that at all. If you’re just into fame for fame, I’m like, ‘O.K., but what are you good at? What can you actually do?’”
Tila, what can you actually do...besides strip, upload bikini wank shots to MySpace, and generally be a big whore? I mean, prior to the abhorrence of "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" appearing on MTV, Tila Tequila was mainly famous for being the skankiest slut on MySpace and for fucking the hipster clusterfuck of whiskers, eyeliner, black nail polish, and overcompensating vintage/Army-Navy store fashion choices known as Jared Leto. Okay, MAYBE she effed Jared Leto. Jared denied it. And not that his past beards (Cameron Diaz, Lindsay Lohan) were much to shout about, but they're galaxies away from Tila Tequila in terms of star power and celebrity. I mean, even when it comes to singing talent, Lindsay Lohan should be singing arias at the Met compared to Tila Tequila. Not that I can criticize, because if I were a MySpace celebretard, I would also drop a single called "I Love U" in which I claim to be "the crazy bitch who's running the game" and threaten "I WILL FUCK YOU UP!" Oh, pardon me, I meant "FUK U UP." And how are you going to do that, "crazy bitch"? Give me herpes?
Anyway, now this has helped this trollop claw a little further up the trashy whore fame ladder by landing her this "A Shot at Love" dating show monstrosity. The premise is that Tila is looking for love, but she's bisexual. That means that instead of 16 men or 16 women competing for her heart, she has 16 OF EACH competing for her heart. It also means she has a lot of insincere "coming out" drama and wonders how her life is so crazy. I would say that for starters, it's because she not only has 32 desperate fame whores competing for her affections and living in the same contrived reality house which offers unlimited hooch and pool parties 24/7, but they all have to share the same bed. Sadly, Tila isn't taking proper advantage of her situation. If I had 32 vapid, hungry ho-bags all shacked up in one bed and lusting after me, you bet your ass that I would be up in that bed with all of them! Because, as Kells would say, doublin' up for me is like routine, player. Instead of engaging in some mackadelic nightspot realness with her literal stable of hoes, however, Tila spends a lot of time hemming and hawing about why trying to date in this situation is challenging and deciding whether or not she likes boys or girls more. Because it's hard to be a MySpace friend whore starring in a trashtastic reality show in which hot yet abysmally stupid motherfuckers present themselves for romantic and storied courtship rituals like foam wrestling. I mean, this is probably where Tila will meet the love of her life! How will she ever choose? And furthermore, what if she chooses wrong?
Yes, I think that the only solution here is for Tila to bang every last person in the house so she can show us all what her talent is, because to use Tila's own words, we're like, "Okay, what are you good at?" when asked about why Tila is famous. I mean, if you're really the bisexual slag you're claiming to be, then I think it's only right for you to prove it. I want to see Tila sitting on some desperate wannabe male model dick, or sticking her face into some stank faux lesbian stripper cho-cha (hey, if you're really "bisexual" and not "bi-curious" AKA you kiss girls for attention, then ho up and lick some twat already). Come on, MTV! Give me a reason to believe that Tila's actually got some talent! Talent besides showing off her shitshow of a boob job, that is.
You know...TALENT!
The article includes other priceless gems such as those that follow:
On comparing Tila's career trajectory with those of other contemporary successful women:
It has been said many times of the Internet that it radically subverts the traditional relationship between high and low, in terms both of culture and class. Yet Meg Whitman, the chief executive of eBay, did not get her career start posing for the video game “Street Racing Syndicate” and, absent a miracle, Tila Tequila’s chances of taking the helm of eBay are nil.On Tila's childhood history:
With Ms. Tequila’s hardscrabble upbringing, her story certainly contains elements of the classic show-business redemption narrative. Her family emigrated from postwar Vietnam to Singapore and later moved to Houston, where they lived in public housing and where, as she once said in an interview with Import Tuner, a car magazine, she became deeply disoriented about her identity: “I was really confused then, because at first I thought I was black, then I thought I was Hispanic and joined a cholo gang.”Hilarious, NY Times. Only the Times can work an Emma Lazarus reference into the text to underscore the point that Tila is a big old ho rather than a legendary poet who left her indelible mark upon the American literary canon by summarizing the immigrant experience. That is some fit-to-print news right there. Bravo.
To judge from myriad Internet snapshots with captions like “Tila in Red Bikini,” though, it is not the Emma Lazarus dimension of her tale that made Tila Tequila a social-network-magnet on MySpace or, for that matter, impossible to look away from on even the tiniest of hand-held screens.
Anyway, the Times article ends with this zinger of a quote in which Ms. Tequila demonstrates that, while she can do a mean job of splaying herself on the hood of a tricked-out car, she isn't very practiced at recognizing hypocrisy when she sees it: “The press and the media have glorified the celebrity thing and brainwashed people to live in that world,” Ms. Tequila said. “People try to stand out for nothing and they end up getting quote-unquote famous. I’m not into that at all. If you’re just into fame for fame, I’m like, ‘O.K., but what are you good at? What can you actually do?’”
Tila, what can you actually do...besides strip, upload bikini wank shots to MySpace, and generally be a big whore? I mean, prior to the abhorrence of "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" appearing on MTV, Tila Tequila was mainly famous for being the skankiest slut on MySpace and for fucking the hipster clusterfuck of whiskers, eyeliner, black nail polish, and overcompensating vintage/Army-Navy store fashion choices known as Jared Leto. Okay, MAYBE she effed Jared Leto. Jared denied it. And not that his past beards (Cameron Diaz, Lindsay Lohan) were much to shout about, but they're galaxies away from Tila Tequila in terms of star power and celebrity. I mean, even when it comes to singing talent, Lindsay Lohan should be singing arias at the Met compared to Tila Tequila. Not that I can criticize, because if I were a MySpace celebretard, I would also drop a single called "I Love U" in which I claim to be "the crazy bitch who's running the game" and threaten "I WILL FUCK YOU UP!" Oh, pardon me, I meant "FUK U UP." And how are you going to do that, "crazy bitch"? Give me herpes?
Replay video | Share video | Watch more videos |
Anyway, now this has helped this trollop claw a little further up the trashy whore fame ladder by landing her this "A Shot at Love" dating show monstrosity. The premise is that Tila is looking for love, but she's bisexual. That means that instead of 16 men or 16 women competing for her heart, she has 16 OF EACH competing for her heart. It also means she has a lot of insincere "coming out" drama and wonders how her life is so crazy. I would say that for starters, it's because she not only has 32 desperate fame whores competing for her affections and living in the same contrived reality house which offers unlimited hooch and pool parties 24/7, but they all have to share the same bed. Sadly, Tila isn't taking proper advantage of her situation. If I had 32 vapid, hungry ho-bags all shacked up in one bed and lusting after me, you bet your ass that I would be up in that bed with all of them! Because, as Kells would say, doublin' up for me is like routine, player. Instead of engaging in some mackadelic nightspot realness with her literal stable of hoes, however, Tila spends a lot of time hemming and hawing about why trying to date in this situation is challenging and deciding whether or not she likes boys or girls more. Because it's hard to be a MySpace friend whore starring in a trashtastic reality show in which hot yet abysmally stupid motherfuckers present themselves for romantic and storied courtship rituals like foam wrestling. I mean, this is probably where Tila will meet the love of her life! How will she ever choose? And furthermore, what if she chooses wrong?
Yes, I think that the only solution here is for Tila to bang every last person in the house so she can show us all what her talent is, because to use Tila's own words, we're like, "Okay, what are you good at?" when asked about why Tila is famous. I mean, if you're really the bisexual slag you're claiming to be, then I think it's only right for you to prove it. I want to see Tila sitting on some desperate wannabe male model dick, or sticking her face into some stank faux lesbian stripper cho-cha (hey, if you're really "bisexual" and not "bi-curious" AKA you kiss girls for attention, then ho up and lick some twat already). Come on, MTV! Give me a reason to believe that Tila's actually got some talent! Talent besides showing off her shitshow of a boob job, that is.
Labels: assholes, lezbollah, media whores, MySpace, sex, sluts, TV
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Razzy v. Rick Friar: Hilarity will likely ensue
Yesterday I was checking my razzy@razzy.org e-mail and, after deleting all the penis enlargement, software ads, and bogus stock tips and basking in the adoring glow of my fan mail, I was attracted to the following e-mail based on the subject line. It's been all quiet on the Razzy Hater front for the most part, so I was curious to see what kind of vitriol the author of this e-mail would be spewing:
Anyway, I guess that Rick didn't get to fully elucidate what a faggoty self-loathing white person writing hypocritical made-up quotes about racism being "edgy," so before I had a chance to reply, he sent me another e-mail clarifying his position:
Anyway, it seems Rick is pretty pissed off at the whole Jena Six business, but I'm thinking he kind of missed the point. Number one, given the context of "historical shit," the noose hanging from the tree in Jena makes it no less than a direct threat of lynching. Second, the problem is not that the black kids aren't being allowed to stomp white kids, it's that nothing was done in the way of disciplinary action against the white kids who hung A FUCKING NOOSE UP AT THE PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, and furthermore that the six who "stomped" the white kids in retaliation were charged with more serious crimes than they normally would have been. The Jena Six story illustrates the inherent racist discrepancies in our justice system, but I'm wasting my time trying to explain that to someone so moronic they describe a noose as "something offensive" and "just a tied rope in a tree." But the fact is, my blog post was not even about the Jena Six as much as it was about that dumb bitch who decided to do damage control for being a racist fucktard by saying "I have black friends" and blaming her poor choices on booze, thus sullying its good name. Rick doesn't have very good reading comprehension skills.
I decided to see who this racist was that was accusing me of being a "lib", a "bitch", and a "faggot," so I went to the intellectual toilet of the internets. There is no place more likely to collect the mentally deficient with blowhard opinions like a little social networking website the kiddies call MySpace. I quickly located his MySpace profile, and was not surprised to see what Rick Friar is all about: being the biggest loser imaginable.
Apparently, Mr. Friar is a 26-year-old aspiring science fiction writer currently living in his mom's basement in the Bay Area (explaining his resentment towards "libs"...I guess as long as he's unemployed and stuck at mommy's place in San Fagcisco he's surrounded by them) and self-publishing his own trilogy of craptastic novels called "The Keepers." (This reaffirms my belief that there's some secret rule mandating that sci-fi only comes in trilogies). The plot synopsis is as follows:
My favorite, and certainly the most frightening, is the laser-shooting dolphin, or "water dog" as Chance from "I Love New York" would call it. The oceans will be a very dangerous place once we are forced to contend with these mean marine robot mammals:
I can't believe this moron actually wrote to me calling me a faggot and a bitch and expect me not to have a field day with the fact that, despite his desperate attempt to sell what sounds like the most preposterous book ever written (even in the sci-fi genre), he can't even spell "Battlestar Galactica" properly on his MySpace profile and the best he has going for him is that he's actually not as hideous looking as I would expect a masturbating shut-in to be. In fact, ladies, feast your eyes:
Yeah, Dick Friar is some hot stuff. I think it's pretty telling that he has about 600 fewer MySpace friends than me in spite of the fact that he's a PUBLISHED author of the most terrifying prophetic texts about our inevitable take over by robot animal-leading alien rock stars. Now he's going to have even less than the 47 friends he's got, since in addition to being clumsy with his comma usage and a jobless dweeb with entirely too much time to sit around drawing robot sharks and shit, he's obviously a racist with poorly articulated ideas. And just to show him that I'm not a self-loathing white faggot bitch, I took a picture of myself so he knows exactly who he is dealing with. In the interest of pity, I took it topless, because the last set of hot tits Dick Friar has probably seen were probably in the context of some illegally downloaded Hentai porn, so maybe he'd relax a little on the "YOU ARE THE POWER NOW, BUT NOT FOR LONG" nonsense if he can actually wank it to a real, extant woman. Enjoy...Dick:
I also sent him this e-mail in return:
Man, I live for this shit. So many stupid people, so little time!
From: rick friar (the-keepers@hotmail.com)Oh, I see. He took issue with my post ripping on the dumb bitch who got liquored up with her hick friends, painted themselves with mud to resemble blackface, and re-enacted the Jena 6 beatings while shouting "niggers, put the noose on" then made a bunch of bullshit excuses when there was an outcry about the video of this posted to her Facebook profile. First, I never said "how dare she do something edgy," since I not only avoid the word "edgy" like the plague unless I'm busting on Lower East Side hipsters, I would never characterize Kristy's drunken idiot racist tomfoolery as "edgy." So don't attribute shit to me that I didn't write...FAGGOT. And while you're at it, if that slur was just generic, then whatever, but if it had something to do with the fact that I'm bisexual, then I think the insult you're looking for is actually "DYKE," as I am female. "Faggot" refers to either a stick or a male homosexual, and if Rick wants some reference for what the latter are, all he probably needs is a mirror.
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: An end to you white-haters
You demonize this Kristy Smith, who cried and said she had just as many black friends as white ones, but you say "how dare she do something edgy!" Get a life faggot!
Anyway, I guess that Rick didn't get to fully elucidate what a faggoty self-loathing white person writing hypocritical made-up quotes about racism being "edgy," so before I had a chance to reply, he sent me another e-mail clarifying his position:
From: rick friar (the-keepers@hotmail.com)Now, by "lib," does Rick mean "liberal"? Because politically I'm more of a libertarian than a liberal. I think the government should be as small, deregulated, and out of people's business as possible. I guess he could also mean "libertine," which is a term that I could certainly qualify for, given my fondness for hedonism and gluttonous living.
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: You are the power now, but not for long
You libs are the ones in power. Blacks beat the shit out of a white kid, while the worst thing the whites did was display something that was offensive. I don't care what you say about historical shit, it was just a tied rope in a tree. There is a fundamental difference between a symbol and a brutal beating. Obviously no blacks were living in fear, or they wouldn't have knocked unconscious and stomped the head of a white boy. That's not fear. They in fact had no fear, as they should not, because the powers that be side with blacks who stomp white kids over white kids who piss off blacks. An end to your power will soon come, so revel in it now while it lasts..... BITCH!!!
Anyway, it seems Rick is pretty pissed off at the whole Jena Six business, but I'm thinking he kind of missed the point. Number one, given the context of "historical shit," the noose hanging from the tree in Jena makes it no less than a direct threat of lynching. Second, the problem is not that the black kids aren't being allowed to stomp white kids, it's that nothing was done in the way of disciplinary action against the white kids who hung A FUCKING NOOSE UP AT THE PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, and furthermore that the six who "stomped" the white kids in retaliation were charged with more serious crimes than they normally would have been. The Jena Six story illustrates the inherent racist discrepancies in our justice system, but I'm wasting my time trying to explain that to someone so moronic they describe a noose as "something offensive" and "just a tied rope in a tree." But the fact is, my blog post was not even about the Jena Six as much as it was about that dumb bitch who decided to do damage control for being a racist fucktard by saying "I have black friends" and blaming her poor choices on booze, thus sullying its good name. Rick doesn't have very good reading comprehension skills.
I decided to see who this racist was that was accusing me of being a "lib", a "bitch", and a "faggot," so I went to the intellectual toilet of the internets. There is no place more likely to collect the mentally deficient with blowhard opinions like a little social networking website the kiddies call MySpace. I quickly located his MySpace profile, and was not surprised to see what Rick Friar is all about: being the biggest loser imaginable.
Apparently, Mr. Friar is a 26-year-old aspiring science fiction writer currently living in his mom's basement in the Bay Area (explaining his resentment towards "libs"...I guess as long as he's unemployed and stuck at mommy's place in San Fagcisco he's surrounded by them) and self-publishing his own trilogy of craptastic novels called "The Keepers." (This reaffirms my belief that there's some secret rule mandating that sci-fi only comes in trilogies). The plot synopsis is as follows:
The Keepers: Part 1: WWIII," by Richard Friar, is a saga chronicling the tide of events leading the superpowers of 2039 into the Third World War and the catastrophe that ensues. It is fiction only in that it has yet to happen.Just to make sure he was sufficiently heavy-handed about characterizing his work as a dire prophecy that the world should heed NOW, he provides a disclaimer.
Synopsis for "The Keepers: Part 1: WWIII." Every generation has to face difficult challenges. Some must endure far more than others. Because of this, it was once said that those who lived during World War II were the greatest generation... But, humanity has yet to see its greatest generation, for those alive in 2039 will have to face the most difficult challenges of all time.
Global conflict, environmental destruction and corporate greed have driven the world to the brink of disaster. The lack of decisive change to bring Earth and humankind back into balance has created the most radical and terrifying movement ever. Ideologies clash, nations collide and the battle for transformation threatens the planet with annihilation. This science fiction epic, the first in a trilogy, tells the story of a Third World War fought against the mightiest foe of all time... the dreaded Apex Empire.
The story follows two main characters. A former rock star with celebrity status, Geiseric, the charismatic and oppressive leader of the Apex aspires to crush the governments of the world and bring them under one tyrannical head. Inspired by the natural and efficient forms of the animal kingdom and seizing hold of the science of biomimicry, the new and powerful empire creates the deadliest military ever known to mankind. Logan is a teenager who grew up on a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean. Here, a group of adults tried to raise their children in seclusion, apart from the heightening tensions leading up to the war. But nobody can hide from Geiseric and his regime. The occupants of the island are transported to Geiseric's bizarre training camps. Logan all too suddenly, learns about the horrors of the outside world he has been protected from.
This is fiction that comes with a warning. Should the world continue on its current political and social paths, everything within the plot, including the astonishing technology, the intricate political maneuvering, the major players and their ideologies, is not only possible, but probable. For until that day that humans embrace all living beings within their circle of compassion, they shall not themselves find peace.Oh, I see. Yeah, it does seem possible that in thirty-two years, the planet will be overrun by the most dreaded army led by an intergalactic celebrity rock star military tyrant who, like the Westside Connection, has designs on world domination. I guess that's why the nefarious "libs" will no longer be in power to further their agenda of blacks stomping white kids as faggot bitches are wont to do. Thanks to the dreaded science of "biomimicry" as practiced by the Apex Empire, who I am sure we would all fear if they existed and had a more impressive name (Apex sounds like they make ski parkas or help people manage their investment portfolios), we'll apparently have to cope with "astonishing technology" like "animalians."
I also sent him this e-mail in return:
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
To: rick friar (the-keepers@hotmail.com)
Subject: I Stand Corrected!
Dear Rick,
While I intended to respond via e-mail, once I checked out your MySpace and saw what an awesome writer you are, as well as heeded your dire words of caution about the fate of humanity thanks to the Machiavellian Apex Empire's impending invasion, I felt it was my duty to share with the world your powerful warning. Once we are senior citizens dodging Animalian lasers, I know that everyone will find your views on racial politics useful in thwarting our Apexian oppressors, and like me, everyone will experience an amazing "Rick Friar was RIGHT about that Jena Six business...and EVERYTHING ELSE!" epiphany. I was so, so wrong to bust on the stupidity of a drunken redneck who put a video of herself making racial slurs on her Facebook profile, and I realize that now.
So please forgive me, but given my disproportionately larger number of fans than yours, I figured that my blog would be the best media for reaching as many people as possible with your sage commentary on the matter.
http://www.razzy.org/RazzyBlog/razzyblog.html
Yours in the resistance against the tyrannical Geiseric,
Razzy
Man, I live for this shit. So many stupid people, so little time!
Labels: assholes, correspondence, intentional buffoonery, MySpace, nerd alert, Razzy Haters, retard rage, small penises
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Lily Allen
DOB: May 2, 1985
Occupation: singer/songwriter, annoyingly whiny drunk
Hometown: London, England
Current residence: London, England
Douchebaggery: I don't like anything about this bitch. I don't like her look, her music, her much-discussed taste in flouncy dress/sneakers combinations, or her opinion on anything. I don't like people who talk about how much they love her music, because they usually do so in that patronizing, hipster snob fashion which implies not only that they have superior taste, but that this makes them so unique compared to those of us who don't wear kitschy $40 t-shirts and drink soy lattes. There's this dumb girl in my lab, Sohard, who is your typical indie rock snob: she hails from Buttfuck, Flyover Country somewhere in Iowa, she has a tongue ring, and she's always blabbing about the various concerts she's planning to attend and buy more ill-fitting t-shirts at. Overall, she has this infuriating air of obnoxious self-satisfaction at being so goddamned edgy, like she's the only one in the world who ever heard of Modest Mouse before. Like her contemporaries, Sohard thinks she has the market cornered on originality, when in reality bitches like her are a dime a dozen, roughly the same cost as items from the thrift store bin where they unearth fugly wool grandpa cardigans for draping over their "Ithaca is GORGES" shirts. Sohard annoys me with Lily Allen on the regular. It's good that due to some work-related incidences involving she and I, my relationship with Sohard has depreciated into a sort of professional form of open hostility. We're perfectly polite to one another, but even the most casual observer can discern that we hate each other's guts and would be fighting like two rabid tomcats in a sack if we didn't have to behave ourselves in the workplace. Anyway, since the pivotal fight that led to this state of active mutual dislike, an altercation which culminated in me telling her that I didn't respect her as a scientist or as a human being, she has been slinking around with her iPod on rather than subject me to the insult of hearing this fat Lily Allen pig cheerfully harping on about revenge against her ex-boyfriend or whatever.
In theory, I should like Lily Allen, because she runs around drunk and smoking and talking smack about whatever she feels like. Generally, I admire outspoken alcoholics, being that I am one myself. However, I don't like people who spend most of their forthcoming energy bitching and moaning about their weight or their appearance. Lily Allen is constantly engaging in this passive-aggressive search for validation. One time she got on her MySpace and posted that she was "fat, ugly and shitter (SIC) than amy winehouse." Well, she's assuredly fatter than the crackhead soul singer who says no, no, no to rehab, but I'd say that trying to decide which of these irritating souses is uglier or "shitter" is one hell of an evenly matched contest. Amy Winehouse looks some kind of white trash 1960s Flamenco dancer on acid and meth, and Lily Allen looks like a pig in a prom dress and a pair of Chuck Taylors. Anyway, the next day, after tons of supportive blog comments came in from her moronic legions of fans about how her porcine self is sexy and talented and blah blah blah, Lily Allen thought better of her self-pity and switched to passing blame. Apparently some pop star skank in the UK had called her a "chick with a dick" (which is hilarious and likely true) and this had made her feel insecure, which in turn led to some irresponsible MySpace blogging.
Lily went on to elaborate on exactly why this other bitch is to blame for her running off at the blog, because she's not an anorexic model and she has talent rather than looks, or something: "I think I was just having a hard time last week . After reading Cheryl Tweedy’s comments branding me a 'chick with a dick'. I was feeling pretty low and as well as that, some of you might know I launched my clothing line for new look last Tuesday , and seeing my picture in so many newspapers next to Kate Moss', made me feel grotesque momentarily. Cheryl if you're reading this , I may not be as pretty as you but at least I write and SING my own songs without the aid of autotune . I must say taking your clothes off , doing sexy dancing and marrying a rich footballer must be very gratifying , your mother must be so proud , stupid bitch ." Whatever. That still sounds like sour grapes about getting hit with the ugly-and-porcine stick to me, Lily. Shut the fuck up and just go somewhere and die(t) so we can all go on leading our lives in peace. That would make me smile. Stupid bitch.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, fat fucks, grad school bullshit, MySpace, overcompensation, sluts, you're ugly
Friday, July 27, 2007
My secret identity
A while ago, KatieScarlett and I made a fake Friendster profile, "tugirlzhugging", expressly for the purpose of luring creeps out of the e-woodwork to make fun of on our blogs. Well, on my blog anyway...KatieScarlett's blog is more about photography and BloodyTosser's domination in the Muay Thai kickboxing ring. Anyway, I was just having a Google chat with KatieScarlett in our typical "To Catch a Predator" parlance (which I don't think either of us will ever get tired of) when I decided to let slip that I made a similar profile on MySpace exclusively for fucking with dumb people:
razzy: r we getting tewgether tewmorrow for brews?
katiescarlett: YAH!
razzy: SEWPER KEWL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *<(;-D
katiescarlett: (((*BB!@WWK<><><>::
katiescarlett: that's a jellyfish
katiescarlett: KEWL!
razzy: I love the jellyfish!
katiescarlett: ( * ) ttha't a cat butt
razzy: ^`>********
razzy: That's a ewnikorn!
katiescarlett: YES!
katiescarlett: he's kewl!
katiescarlett: i like ewnikorns! do you ever go all the way like with a guy?
katiescarlett: i can send you some pics ;)
razzy: tottaly dewd i take it up the but!
katiescarlett: keeeeewwwl!
razzy: kewl lets get nekkid on r webcams!
katiescarlett: i'm coming over
katiescarlett: an' listen ot the stank!
razzy: i think u mean "cumming" over dewd!~;p
katiescarlett: sorry :P
razzy: dewd i've got my stank CD playing now!
razzy: btw, have u seen my myspace?
katiescarlett: im onna look now!
katiescarlett: ewe are kewt wi' nice bewbies!
razzy: actually dewd i meant my other myspace:
katiescarlett: oh
katiescarlett: i got carried away
razzy: http://www.myspace.com/darkangelzdare
katiescarlett: :)
katiescarlett: oh my god!
katiescarlett: did you make that up?
razzy: that's my secret myspace i use for fucking with people
katiescarlett: you are a genius
razzy: i got the pictures by googling "dumb emo bitches"
katiescarlett: specatacular!
razzy: it's not tugirlzhugging but we'll dew that myspace profile one of these days
katiescarlett: hoo is that girl?
razzy: i have no idea
razzy: but i get so many messages being like "ur so hott, ur so prity"
katiescarlett: i am astounded by your brilliance!
katiescarlett: did you make up that tag?
razzy: it's the natural progression of watching too much to catch a predator
katiescarlett: GAODDAMNIT!
katiescarlett: BRILLIANT
katiescarlett: WHERE DO YOU COME UP WITH THIS SHIT
razzy: i have no idea
razzy: i think deep down inside i'm a retarded tween with a hot topic fetish
katiescarlett: incredible
Since KatieScarlett though it was so funny, I thought I would reveal the secret of my MySpace alter ego. Besides, all the dumbasses who I plan to eventually make fun of are probably NOT under any cirucmstances reading this blog, so it's doubtful they'll come across this and realize they've been duped.
To answer KatieScarlett's question about where I come up with this shit, though, it's a simple process that goes as follows:
1. Set up a MySpace account and pick the stupidest URL imaginable for your profile.
2. Google "stupid (blank) bitches" and see what images pop up. Pick several to round out your photo section. They don't even have to be the same people...most of MySpace is very stupid and will not realize it.
3. Pick a horrible band or singer to idolize (in the case of "tugirlzhugging", this is Hoobastank, and for "darkangelzdare" it's Avril Lavigne), and MySpace befriend them, along with other related horrible bands. Thank them all for the adds and watch the idiot friend requests pile up. It also helps if you make a customized MySpace profile with the horrible band's marketing material all over it.
4. Write and spell everything exactly the opposite way that you normally world. If you cringe as you write it (ie: "I Think she's (Avril Lavigne) a great writer and so talented and never takes any bs pardon my strong language lolz!", replacing "people" with "Ppl", etc.), then it's moron-attracting gold.
5. Always say you love The Notebook. For some reason, everybody on MySpace says they love the fucking Notebook, a romantic non-comedy that I would rather stick a carving fork in my vagina than watch.
6. Sit back and wait for the fun to begin! I have more asinine messages in Dark Angel's MySpace inbox than I know what to do with.
So, you can all eagerly anticipate the many, many entries to come making fun of the tools who are propositioning Dark Angel. Just don't tell anyone that she's my secret identity...keep it on the hush.
razzy: r we getting tewgether tewmorrow for brews?
katiescarlett: YAH!
razzy: SEWPER KEWL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *<(;-D
katiescarlett: (((*BB!@WWK<><><>::
katiescarlett: that's a jellyfish
katiescarlett: KEWL!
razzy: I love the jellyfish!
katiescarlett: ( * ) ttha't a cat butt
razzy: ^`>********
razzy: That's a ewnikorn!
katiescarlett: YES!
katiescarlett: he's kewl!
katiescarlett: i like ewnikorns! do you ever go all the way like with a guy?
katiescarlett: i can send you some pics ;)
razzy: tottaly dewd i take it up the but!
katiescarlett: keeeeewwwl!
razzy: kewl lets get nekkid on r webcams!
katiescarlett: i'm coming over
katiescarlett: an' listen ot the stank!
razzy: i think u mean "cumming" over dewd!~;p
katiescarlett: sorry :P
razzy: dewd i've got my stank CD playing now!
razzy: btw, have u seen my myspace?
katiescarlett: im onna look now!
katiescarlett: ewe are kewt wi' nice bewbies!
razzy: actually dewd i meant my other myspace:
katiescarlett: oh
katiescarlett: i got carried away
razzy: http://www.myspace.com/darkangelzdare
katiescarlett: :)
katiescarlett: oh my god!
katiescarlett: did you make that up?
razzy: that's my secret myspace i use for fucking with people
katiescarlett: you are a genius
razzy: i got the pictures by googling "dumb emo bitches"
katiescarlett: specatacular!
razzy: it's not tugirlzhugging but we'll dew that myspace profile one of these days
katiescarlett: hoo is that girl?
razzy: i have no idea
razzy: but i get so many messages being like "ur so hott, ur so prity"
katiescarlett: i am astounded by your brilliance!
katiescarlett: did you make up that tag?
razzy: it's the natural progression of watching too much to catch a predator
katiescarlett: GAODDAMNIT!
katiescarlett: BRILLIANT
katiescarlett: WHERE DO YOU COME UP WITH THIS SHIT
razzy: i have no idea
razzy: i think deep down inside i'm a retarded tween with a hot topic fetish
katiescarlett: incredible
Since KatieScarlett though it was so funny, I thought I would reveal the secret of my MySpace alter ego. Besides, all the dumbasses who I plan to eventually make fun of are probably NOT under any cirucmstances reading this blog, so it's doubtful they'll come across this and realize they've been duped.
To answer KatieScarlett's question about where I come up with this shit, though, it's a simple process that goes as follows:
1. Set up a MySpace account and pick the stupidest URL imaginable for your profile.
2. Google "stupid (blank) bitches" and see what images pop up. Pick several to round out your photo section. They don't even have to be the same people...most of MySpace is very stupid and will not realize it.
3. Pick a horrible band or singer to idolize (in the case of "tugirlzhugging", this is Hoobastank, and for "darkangelzdare" it's Avril Lavigne), and MySpace befriend them, along with other related horrible bands. Thank them all for the adds and watch the idiot friend requests pile up. It also helps if you make a customized MySpace profile with the horrible band's marketing material all over it.
4. Write and spell everything exactly the opposite way that you normally world. If you cringe as you write it (ie: "I Think she's (Avril Lavigne) a great writer and so talented and never takes any bs pardon my strong language lolz!", replacing "people" with "Ppl", etc.), then it's moron-attracting gold.
5. Always say you love The Notebook. For some reason, everybody on MySpace says they love the fucking Notebook, a romantic non-comedy that I would rather stick a carving fork in my vagina than watch.
6. Sit back and wait for the fun to begin! I have more asinine messages in Dark Angel's MySpace inbox than I know what to do with.
So, you can all eagerly anticipate the many, many entries to come making fun of the tools who are propositioning Dark Angel. Just don't tell anyone that she's my secret identity...keep it on the hush.
Labels: internet domination, KatieScarlett, kewlness, MySpace, ridiculous absurdity
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Steer clear of ADULTSPACE
While I am accustomed to having webcam whores and people hawking free (but not actually free) iPods and various gift cards blowing up my spot on MySpace, it's rare that I'm so violently revolted by the person doing so. However, today I checked my MySpace inbox, and found this piece of correspondence awaiting me:
I tried to reply and tell her to take the solicitations for casual sex with her morbidly obese ass elsewhere, but I was immediately prompted to enter my name and password. Since I was already logged into MySpace, I was like, "What the fu...HEY! This ho is trying to steal my password!" I really cannot imagine why this hooker was Phishing for my MySpace account login information, but I imagine it was probably to similarly spam all my friends in the guise of me.
In order to respond without stupidly divulging my private MySpace information, I went to her MySpace page, and after I willed myself not to have an epileptic seizure on account of the holocaust of animated glitter Playboy Bunny logos on her profile, I grew progressively even more annoyed with "sweetnspoiled25" Mistie. In keeping with the Playboy wallpaper, she has about 8 million glitter .gifs on her site that say shit like, "I taught your boyfriend how to do that thing you like!" Unless "that thing I like" is achieving the female superior position without him dying from either suffocation beneath a prodigious FUPA or sheer crushing force, I can't imagine what kind of tricks she is teaching any men unfortunate and/or drunk enough to stick their dicks anywhere near what I suspect is her frighteningly flappy vadge. Needless to say, I did not mince words in the message I sent her:
If for some reason I decided that I must resort to scraping the bottom of the internet barrel and use Adult Friend Finder or some similar online sex-with-gross-losers clearinghouse to get laid, I sure as shit would not accept references for such from a sloppy, spiral-permed cow like yourself. The prospect of even logging on to such a site and seeing naked pictures of your undoubtedly heavily dimpled ass has caused me to start dry heaving.
Also, since not only was this spam, but because replying directly to the e-mail required me to enter my MySpace password although I was already logged in, I suspect you're also involved in some type of Phishing scam. So consider your tubby self reported to MySpace, as well as called out on my blog:
http://www.razzy.org/RazzyBlog/razzyblog.html
Enjoy!
Razzy
PS-And please, please, please, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY put a picture of Gisele or old school pre-Restalyne/anorexia Jenna or someone hotter than yourself (God, even Paris Hilton would be more appealing, and I never thought I'd say that) if you plan to continue encouraging most of MySpace to sign up and have casual sex with you.
Wow, that was mean-spirited, even for me. That's what happens when I receive correspondence like hers when I'm overworked, sleep deprived, starving, cigarette-free, and crabbier than Walter Matthau in one of those Grumpy Old Men movies. Crap, I can't even make good jokes. I'm just going to stop now.
I tried to reply and tell her to take the solicitations for casual sex with her morbidly obese ass elsewhere, but I was immediately prompted to enter my name and password. Since I was already logged into MySpace, I was like, "What the fu...HEY! This ho is trying to steal my password!" I really cannot imagine why this hooker was Phishing for my MySpace account login information, but I imagine it was probably to similarly spam all my friends in the guise of me.
In order to respond without stupidly divulging my private MySpace information, I went to her MySpace page, and after I willed myself not to have an epileptic seizure on account of the holocaust of animated glitter Playboy Bunny logos on her profile, I grew progressively even more annoyed with "sweetnspoiled25" Mistie. In keeping with the Playboy wallpaper, she has about 8 million glitter .gifs on her site that say shit like, "I taught your boyfriend how to do that thing you like!" Unless "that thing I like" is achieving the female superior position without him dying from either suffocation beneath a prodigious FUPA or sheer crushing force, I can't imagine what kind of tricks she is teaching any men unfortunate and/or drunk enough to stick their dicks anywhere near what I suspect is her frighteningly flappy vadge. Needless to say, I did not mince words in the message I sent her:
If for some reason I decided that I must resort to scraping the bottom of the internet barrel and use Adult Friend Finder or some similar online sex-with-gross-losers clearinghouse to get laid, I sure as shit would not accept references for such from a sloppy, spiral-permed cow like yourself. The prospect of even logging on to such a site and seeing naked pictures of your undoubtedly heavily dimpled ass has caused me to start dry heaving.
Also, since not only was this spam, but because replying directly to the e-mail required me to enter my MySpace password although I was already logged in, I suspect you're also involved in some type of Phishing scam. So consider your tubby self reported to MySpace, as well as called out on my blog:
http://www.razzy.org/RazzyBlog/razzyblog.html
Enjoy!
Razzy
PS-And please, please, please, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY put a picture of Gisele or old school pre-Restalyne/anorexia Jenna or someone hotter than yourself (God, even Paris Hilton would be more appealing, and I never thought I'd say that) if you plan to continue encouraging most of MySpace to sign up and have casual sex with you.
Wow, that was mean-spirited, even for me. That's what happens when I receive correspondence like hers when I'm overworked, sleep deprived, starving, cigarette-free, and crabbier than Walter Matthau in one of those Grumpy Old Men movies. Crap, I can't even make good jokes. I'm just going to stop now.
Labels: correspondence, fat fucks, gross, MySpace, oh the horror, perversion, retard rage, stank vaginas
Monday, June 04, 2007
Be still my uncontrollably palpitating heart
Today could have been a really bad day. I had a very long day at work, I'm off the cancer sticks and thus somewhat bitchy, and when I arrived home wanting nothing more than finish up a few work things, watch TV, and cool off with a frosty cold Heineken, my key made a funny noise as I turned it in the lock. Then it wouldn't move. After ten minutes of twisting it, banging on my door, twisting the key again, kicking my door, and swearing at it, I called a locksmith. I found out that my lock had "collapsed", and I only barely avoided an obscene bill to replace the entire lock. Instead I "got lucky" and just needed a new cylinder, according to the short but dirtily sexy Czechoslovakian number who fixed it. Thus I had a $450, marginally less obscene bill to pay in cash.
However, it's all good, because as far as I'm concerned, nothing bad can happen today. Captain Sigurd "The Hotness" Hansen of "Deadliest Catch" fame, after posting a link to my original ode to his rugged good looks and excellence in crab boat captaining and subsequently defending me against allegations of stalking, has once again opined on his MySpace blog, and I am OVER THE FUCKING MOON with excitement.
THAT'S RIGHT! According to Sig (who is infallible) I'm the number one fan (I'm assuming he hit the period key instead of the pound key by accident) of the crew of the F/V Northwestern. Yes, you heard it STRAIGHT FROM SIG HIMSELF...I'm the #1 FAN! Take that, all you hos who called me a stalker! Even cooler is the fact that, judging by his exclamatory "WOOT!," he is absolutely thrilled that I am occupying that lofty position. Because let's face it, what kind of crazy hot Viking fisherman WOULDN'T want a Norwegian-American wannabe pirate from Puyallup in her underwear adoring them? Which reminds me, I'm going to have to get a picture of me in my "I'm a Sig Girl" thong to send the Hansen boys as a morale booster before they brave the violent and unpredictable Bering Sea in this modern day gold rush next fall. Maybe I can convince MillerTime, who is almost as obsessed with Sig's brother Edgar as she is "The Girls Next Door", that she should pose with me in the "I'm an Edgar Girl" thong that undoubtedly she has purchased by now. We can find someone who likes the strong, silent type (ie: Norman Hansen), and complete the trifecta of Northwestern adulation.
This is tantamount to Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson dissing me on his next album, or Robert Sylvester Kelly calling me up and asking if he could sex me up, strip for me, or piss on me (all in spite of my old age), or Ernest Hemingway coming back from the dead to take me lion hunting and/or foreign civil war fighting with him. No matter how many bullshit broken locks or failed experiments in lab I have to deal with, Sig has bestowed upon me what I think is the Northwestern's equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Fucking Honor. Now, the Seahawks just have to win a Super Bowl and my life will be pretty much complete.
However, it's all good, because as far as I'm concerned, nothing bad can happen today. Captain Sigurd "The Hotness" Hansen of "Deadliest Catch" fame, after posting a link to my original ode to his rugged good looks and excellence in crab boat captaining and subsequently defending me against allegations of stalking, has once again opined on his MySpace blog, and I am OVER THE FUCKING MOON with excitement.
THAT'S RIGHT! According to Sig (who is infallible) I'm the number one fan (I'm assuming he hit the period key instead of the pound key by accident) of the crew of the F/V Northwestern. Yes, you heard it STRAIGHT FROM SIG HIMSELF...I'm the #1 FAN! Take that, all you hos who called me a stalker! Even cooler is the fact that, judging by his exclamatory "WOOT!," he is absolutely thrilled that I am occupying that lofty position. Because let's face it, what kind of crazy hot Viking fisherman WOULDN'T want a Norwegian-American wannabe pirate from Puyallup in her underwear adoring them? Which reminds me, I'm going to have to get a picture of me in my "I'm a Sig Girl" thong to send the Hansen boys as a morale booster before they brave the violent and unpredictable Bering Sea in this modern day gold rush next fall. Maybe I can convince MillerTime, who is almost as obsessed with Sig's brother Edgar as she is "The Girls Next Door", that she should pose with me in the "I'm an Edgar Girl" thong that undoubtedly she has purchased by now. We can find someone who likes the strong, silent type (ie: Norman Hansen), and complete the trifecta of Northwestern adulation.
This is tantamount to Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson dissing me on his next album, or Robert Sylvester Kelly calling me up and asking if he could sex me up, strip for me, or piss on me (all in spite of my old age), or Ernest Hemingway coming back from the dead to take me lion hunting and/or foreign civil war fighting with him. No matter how many bullshit broken locks or failed experiments in lab I have to deal with, Sig has bestowed upon me what I think is the Northwestern's equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Fucking Honor. Now, the Seahawks just have to win a Super Bowl and my life will be pretty much complete.
Labels: Deadliest Catch, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, MillerTime, MySpace, Razzification
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