Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Porn is for pussies, and I mean that in a good way
I got a fun piece of fan mail from a Razzyphile who requested the moniker DrunkenStumble a while back:
Razzy!
Though a contemplation of an email has been in the works for nearly a year, I finally had to send one in upon reading Aunt Jesus. Your Aunt Jesus smells an awful lot like my Uncle ... let's call him John (after the Baptist who, let's face it, looked more like a caveman than the baptizer of Jesus) who is a hypocrite of the highest order. He went from awesome drunken party boy to saintly congregation president with the turn of a screw. He also goes into what I've guessed to be Jesus induced hazes whenever homosexuality, liberals, or alcohol is mentioned. This I find EXTREMELY odd seeing that him and my dad's brother is walking that razor's edge between HIV and AIDS and is so far in the closet he's next door fellating the neighbor.
Now I'm one of many Razzyphiles on facebook and finally hunted you down to friend you on facebook, I can't help but thank you for bringing out my inner slut. Before I had met my ex I was so buttoned up that if anyone mentioned porn star I was crimson from the neck down and knowing porn stars openly was a bit of my dirty little secret. My ex introduced me to the site and upon the discovery that someone else thought Belladonna was pretty bad ass made me realize that living the boring life I'd had wasn't going to cut it. So, a smattering of mediocre bed rompings later, I find that you're the best thing I got out of dating my ex.
Now I finally have someone who also thinks John McCain is made of awesome and isn't touting a "God Hates Fags" sign makes the world a far easier place to live in.DrunkenStumble
I always love a good fawning e-mail, but I particularly love one that credits me for bringing a woman living an admittedly "boring life" to Jesus Belladonna. I think every woman could learn a thing or two from Belladonna, and not just how to (BOTH SUPER NSFW) make Cytheria erupt like Old Faithful or get double fisted by Jenna Haze. In fact, every woman could learn a lot from watching porn in general, and not just about sex. Porn teaches you what feminism is really all about.
Even when I was an angry feminazi type with a Ms. subscription and a chip on my shoulder about the patriarchy, I just couldn't get behind the deeply man-hating feminist theories of women like Catherine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin. These dumb bitches overcompensated for decades of being the ugliest fat hags at the bra burning rally by declaring all penetrative sex to be rape and claiming that pornography is a violation of women's civil rights. In a post she wrote discussing the world's most embarrassing Jews, my friend LL Cool Jew, a liberal, 1970s radical-bred, NPR-listening, lesbian on sabbatical from San Francisco, had some choice words to say about Andrea Dworkin the Hutt and her vehement anti-pornography stance:
This is a bitch against whom I passionately railed as a righteously sexually liberated Smith College junior for her repressive, primitive, man-hating, female-sexuality-mistrusting, straight-up-First-Amendment-violating crusade against porn. Saying porn does damage to women necessarily means that women don't enjoy porn, and every woman I know can attest against that. Anyway, don't get me started. Suffice it to say, thank God the good old U.S. Constitution was around to fend off that fat, embarrassing Jewess.
Even back in the day when I was wearing ill-fitting men's clothes, rocking the world's worst baby dyke haircut, jamming to my Bikini Kill CDs, and writing "RIOT GRRL" on my knuckles, I felt the same way as LL Cool Jew. No matter how pissed off I was about the nefarious patriarchy supposedly keeping us down and no matter how many bad poems I wrote, bands from Olympia, Portland, or San Francisco I admired, or unflattering pairs of Salvation Army cords I donned to express my subversion of the male establishment, I never directed my ire at pornography. Even before I had seen any porn, I could appreciate its intrinsic value to society, and specifically to women.
I realize that most porn is geared toward men and their fantasies, and that might lead an anger-prone feminist to believe that it is inherently sexist. I've seen a lot of things in porn that compel me to roll my eyes because they were so obviously thought up by a dude, such as peroxide blondes with five-inch acrylic claws fingerbanging each other and acting like they are shrieking with pleasure rather than vagina-ripping agony, or the feigned joys of a strap-on blowjob. The small amount of "female friendly" porn available is usually incredibly boring, relying more on romantic storylines and foreplay than hardcore fucking. In fact, if you believe "Sex and the City," women get off on shoes and relationship drama rather than any kind of actual sexual activity. However, to suggest that because porn is geared toward men indicates that it is exclusively their province would be wholly erroneous.
The other night, I was hanging out with a bunch of my bitches and I was regaling them with tales about how I learned to love performing fellatio. This turned into an instructional session involving me demonstrating some techniques on a beer bottle and referring some skeptics to recent posts from this very blog. One particularly resistant pupil continued to raise an eyebrow at me, so I said, "Oh, hell, just go watch some blowjob videos on RedTube and emulate it." The reaction at the table was explosive.
"I FUCKING LOVE RedTube!" exclaimed the hesitant cocksucker. "That shit rules!"
"What's RedTube? Is that like YouPorn? I'm on YouPorn all the time!" added one of her friends, who, I should add, was a pain-in-the-ass overly political lesbian.
"RedTube is my jam, for sure," said another one of the girls.
I should add that, of all these women, I am probably the most sexually in-your-face girl there. These ladies aren't prudes, but many of them are definitely the kinds of girls who don't fuck strangers or put out on the first date or have threesomes or otherwise engage in my kind of slutty antics. In spite of the fact, however, that they are all "good girls" with successful careers and lots of self-esteem, they are all apparently really into hardcore streaming tube sites. These women obviously don't consider porn to be objectifying or degrading. They consider it a source of enjoyment and a boon to their sexuality. Tons of women consume porn in spite of whatever male chauvinist trappings the self-loathing, man-fearing, sexuality-rejecting feminazi theorists of the old guard might base their wack-ass theories upon. The fact that many modern women have become so comfortable with their own sexuality that they consume male-directed porn with as much gusto as your average dick-jerking, woman-oppressing dude is a triumph for feminism.
I am happy to have done my part for the sex-positive women's movement by helping DrunkenStumble, a woman I've never met before, embrace her love of rubbing them off to Belladonna. Knowing that setting the example of an open, sexually liberated pervert helps other women achieve the same laudable goal is definitely one of the satisfying perks of being in the useless bullshit business, and it motivates me to continue singing the praises of smut. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch some porn.
Labels: correspondence, feminazism, I LOVE IT, perversion, porn, Razzyphiles, sex
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Anthrax ROCKS
I received the following e-mail from a Razzyphile the other day:
Hey, Razzy
Thank you for the useless bullshit. You are definitely fulfilling a societal need.
I was hoping you could post about the anthrax dude who recently killed himself. You are an expert in the field and we razzyphiles would like to hear from you anything germane to our greater understanding of the entire incident.
PS great rack
I'm a recent law school grad but not admitted so I can't help legally yet.
I am always happy to accommodate requests to drop some science for an interested Razzyphile, particularly one who simultaneously compliments my tits, declares the demand for useless bullshit a "societal need," and might be able to potentially join my crack pro bono legal team of criminal defense and bankruptcy attorneys once he passes the bar exam. I'm also always especially happy to discuss this sexy Gram-positive spore-forming facultative anaerobe:
I've had a real scientific hard-on for Bacillus anthracis since I started studying microbiology. By all accounts, it's a hardy little survivor, which is what makes it a successful pathogen and a relatively efficient biological weapon. The above picture (which looks like a colored transmission electron micrograph) depicts B. anthracis in a state called vegetative growth, which is the type of growth most people imagine bacteria do in an Erlenmeyer flask or a petri dish of culture media. They divide by binary fission until they run out of nutrients or growth conditions become otherwise unfavorable. Most bacteria, like E. coli or Salmonella species, will proceed to die or at least stop dividing under conditions of nutrient deprivation, but B. anthracis can do something special. It can sporulate, meaning it changes into a dormant spore form, until it is again exposed to more favorable growth conditions. This is equivalent to watching TV and taking a nap on the couch when nothing good is on, to conserve your strength and attention for when something awesome like "I Love Money" or a rerun of Red Dawn merits waking up.
B. anthracis spores are extremely durable and can remain viable for decades in the soil, which is why livestock are most often afflicted with anthrax. The spores get from the earth into grazing animals' hair and basically hang out there. If they get into vulnerable areas of skin (via a cut or a mucosal surface like the eye), they germinate, and result in cutaneous anthrax. Generally the humans that get this are farmers, herders, slaughterhouse employees, and other people working with livestock. In both animals and humans, cutaneous anthrax presents as an ulcerating lesion that is usually pretty gross, but usually treatable with antibiotics and not fatal.
It's much more serious when the spores are inhaled and germinate in the lungs. Prior to the Cold War era of state-sponsored bioweapons programs, pulmonary anthrax was known as "Woolsorter's Disease," because it typically affected people who worked in places where animal hides were processed and resulted in high concentrations of airborne spores. However, when World War II came around, a number of countries (including the great U.S. of A., Great Britain, and the Soviet Union) decided to test the feasibility of using aerosolized anthrax spores as a biological weapon. They are naturally a great bioweapon because not only are the spores incredibly hardy, but pulmonary anthrax is not transmissible from person-to-person. Therefore, you can target an enemy efficiently without worrying about causing an epidemic. However, nobody ever used anthrax as a weapon in an actual war, partly because of the lasting effects. Gruinard Island, off the Scottish coast, was used by British scientists to test their anthrax bombs in the hopes of using them against Germany. They stopped developing anthrax as a weapon when they concluded that, while effective at killing their test sheep, the spores were so durable that they would render any German city attacked this way uninhabitable for years afterward. In fact, Gruinard Island was so heavily contaminated that it was quarantined for almost 50 years after these tests, until the Brits got sick of going back to test it all the time and bombed the whole place with 280 metric tons of formaldehyde.
The major world powers then signed a treaty in 1972 pledging not to develop new biological or chemical weapons. Apart from an incident in the Russian city of Sverdlovsk in 1979 when a number of factory workers across the street from a "vaccine plant" died from pulmonary anthrax (the Kremlin attributed the incident to contaminated meat, while Soviet defectors involved in the Soviet bioweapons program attributed it to a filter being left off an exhaust vent), no government has openly developed anthrax as a biological weapon. However, anthrax is still studied from both a basic research and a biodefense perspective, and there are certainly cultures of highly virulent B. anthracis growing in many research facilities all over the world.
For anyone with a basic knowledge of microbiological technique, weaponized anthrax is easy to make. In fact, if you can make homebrewed beer, you can make an anthrax weapon. Anthrax is not like Ebola virus, which is hard to get, harder to culture, and almost impossible to deliver to the intended targets. If you wanted to attack someone with Ebola, you'd have to go to Africa in the midst of an Ebola outbreak, somehow smuggle viable samples of virus through customs (and "samples" in this case would probably consist of bloody vomit or shit from an Ebola patient on ice), find a bunch of monkeys to covertly infect to grow more virus, and try to attack and inject infected tissues from these monkeys into my unfortunate victims since most strains of Ebola (at least the ones that infect humans) don't appear to be airborne. Since Ebola is a virus, it needs a host cell to grow in, and the virus particles alone are not stable for long at room temperature or when exposed to UV radiation (ie: sunlight). You can't just make some powdered Ebola and spray it all over people, and someone is bound to notice if you're running around attacking people with a syringe. There's about fifty ways that such a scheme would fail, and even if you somehow did manage to make some homegrown Ebola, it would be pretty fucking difficult to infect many people before your evil plot was discovered.
Anthrax is much easier to make. I could go dig up soil from a cow pasture in Oklahoma, culture anthrax bacilli from that, grow them in a fermentation tank which can be constructed from materials at my local hardware store, dry the culture, chop it into powder, and mail it to whoever I wanted. Even worse, pulmonary anthrax is usually deadly, because the initial symptoms aren't much different than a chest cold. Unlike other bacteria that cause pneumonia by growing to the point of taking over the lungs, pulmonary anthrax causes respiratory failure via a toxin the bacteria secrete. By the time it becomes apparent that a patient has pulmonary anthrax versus a more common respiratory pathogen, even getting rid of the bacteria with antibiotics doesn't get rid of the toxin, and then it's usually too late. Therefore, it's quite easy for someone with a rudimentary knowledge of microbiology to make a deadly, easily transportable terrorist weapon. Fortunately, most scientists (including myself) aren't looking to break into the bioterrorism business, and have serious ethical problems with biological weapons. Unfortunately, there are some who do not fit that description, which is where the recently suicide-d Dr. Bruce Ivins comes in.
In the wake of those anthrax mail attacks in 2001, the federal government obviously put a lot of effort into determining where that anthrax came from. Like people or any other living organism, anthrax from a lab is genetically distinct from anthrax in a podunk cow pasture somewhere, so the government was able to determine that it came from a virulent lab strain. In fact, it came from a strain that our own government uses to develop anthrax vaccines. That's why the government fucked up royally by running a colossally inept investigation of Dr. Steven Hatfill, the wrong anthrax scientist, who just collected a $5 million settlement from the federal government for the ruin it wrought on his career and his not-a-terrorist reputation.
As it turns out, it was more likely Dr. Bruce Ivins, who killed himself last week when he discovered that he was going to be indicted on capital murder charges for being the actual anthrax mailer. Dr. Ivins was involved in all sorts of sketchy activity, including renting post office boxes under assumed names, using his lab after-hours (although as a grad student, that seems like a perfectly normal workday in the slave labor culture of academic research), having a number of unreported anthrax spills, threatening to kill co-workers, frightening his shrink into getting a restraining order against him, and being strangely obsessed with the Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority at Princeton. He was also apparently a loner and a dick.
While anyone has reason to be skeptical of the FBI's largely circumstantial case against the late Dr. Ivins given their total shitshow of an investigation into the now-exonerated Dr. Hatfill, I can state from personal experience that science has been known to harbor some disturbed people that remind me of Dr. Ivins. Without specifically referring to anyone in particular, a person with a need to dominate, threaten, and harass his colleagues, has a troublesome and obsessive relationship with women, does not respond to reprimands or psychological treatment, and takes no personal responsibility for his actions is not unprecedented in the field of microbiology. Unfortunately, these kinds of mentally unstable people can simultaneously be good enough at their jobs to get access to dangerous pathogens, and sometimes the underlying craziness isn't recognized until it's too late.
Even worse, this personality type can sometimes combine the monstrous need to kill innocent people via anthrax with a desire for personal gain. Because these people are Ph.D scientists, they are obviously intelligent, and can sometimes engineer a situation to benefit financially from their own reprehensible crimes. For example, a person might be able to get away with being a scary, abusive, potentially violent asshole by threatening lawsuits or otherwise manipulating the legal system to get what they want along with a substantial cash award. In Dr. Ivins's case, his numerous patent claims over anthrax vaccine technology would provide a significant financial motive to create a nationwide panic about attacks with weaponized anthrax. Currently, the anthrax vaccine approved for use in the U.S. is primarily reserved for military personnel and the odd first-responder. If everyone in the country suddenly became hysterical over the prospect of a large-scale anthrax attack, the demand for a vaccine would increase logarithmically. Dr. Ivins stood to make millions of dollars personally from this kind of nationwide terror, and that can only be icing on the cake for acting out on his reprehensible misanthropic impulses.
Now, many people are probably wondering whether or not they should be afraid of future anthrax attacks since it's so easy to grow and distribute as a lethal bioweapon. I would say no. Sure, the possibility exists. So does the possibility of a flu pandemic as serious as the Spanish flu of 1918 that killed as many as 100 million people by some estimations. So does the possibility of some terrorist getting their hands on one of the few poorly secured smallpox samples, of an airborne strain of Ebola emerging, of all bacteria developing multiple antibiotic resistance, and so on. The Russians alone have a whole arsenal of Cold War-era biological weapons that could be procured on the black market and released, but I'm not laying awake worrying about dying from a terrorist attack of weaponized Soviet tularemia or glanders. The microbiological world is full of nasty (and fascinating) pathogens, and there are plenty of nasty human beings who would gladly facilitate their assault on us. However, I find it more productive to worry about the infectious problems we already have to contend with than the ones that may or may not decimate our civilization. I think it's much more practical and sensible to worry about getting HIV when I have incautious drunk sex with a fellow New York City resident than to fret that there's a slight chance some lunatic spiked my cable bill with anthrax spores. Hell, I'm even more worried that I might get herpes! I dodged that bullet one time when I ALMOST had unprotected sex with a guy who then advised me that he had it (because he is a decent and ENTIRELY admirable human being), and 20% of adults have the herp. As a microbiologist, I'd advise you all to think more about the scourges we already face than the hypothetical ones that might be.
Labels: correspondence, crime and punishment, epidemic geekery, nerd alert, Razzyphiles, science, terror, viruses rule
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Daily Douchebag: dog haters
Name: ASSHOLES
DOB: whenever assholes are born
Occupation: hating on man's best friend
Hometown: wherever assholes come from
Current residence: Toronto, Canada and New York, New York
Douchebaggery: This past week, Razzyphile L&L e-mailed me to inform me of some very disturbing goings on at High Park in Toronto where she lives with her super cute French bulldog Lamont. Apparently, there is an area of the "off-leash" section currently being contested by various factions. The dog people want this to stay a dog area, while some bitch-ass environmentalist types have complained that the area is getting "trampled." The debate has grown very heated, and as a result, some sick bastard has decided to up the ante in favor of the dog haters: by leaving out bread soaked in antifreeze.
If you don't have dogs, then you may not know that antifreeze is one of the most famous dog poisons of all time next to chocolate. Supposedly antifreeze tastes sweet and dogs particularly like it, so every year there are some accidental dog deaths resulting from dogs licking antifreeze that spills from leaky radiators. However, for someone to leave out chunks of bread soaked in antifreeze in the off-leash area of Toronto's version of Central Park is nothing short of a cold-hearted attempt to murder unsuspecting pets. Already two dogs have died from eating the poisoned bread, and four are hospitalized. The detective charged with investigating has said she believes the dog assassin is motivated by the dispute.
I am always astounded at the lengths some people will go to in order to express their disdain for dogs. The other day I was at my local park in the informal "off-leash" area (translation: an area that nobody goes to where I illegally let my dogs run around), when some guy came up and said "Excuse me, lady, but there ARE leash laws." I took a look at him and realized he was just some fat motherfucker who had been sitting around the chess-playing enclosure several blocks away.
"Yeah, well, they're not bothering anyone here," I said, shrugging.
"There are CHILDREN in this park," he said. "We can't just have dogs running around when there's kids playing." I turned to look at my dogs. Caesar was sitting chewing on a stick, and Chingy! was sniffing a tree trunk/potential urine target like a wine connoisseur with a glass of vintage Cabernet. Likewise, I didn't see ANY children anywhere nearby.
"My dogs aren't bothering anyone," I reiterated slightly more defiantly. "And they are very friendly. They don't even pay attention to children."
The guy started getting pissed. "That doesn't matter! You need to leash those animals RIGHT NOW. There are children here!"
"Yeah, I get that," I said, starting to get pissed. Where does this motherfucker get off telling me that these absent children are supposed to be my concern? I HATE kids. I WISH my dogs would start harassing them rather than ignoring them in favor of sticks to chase and bushes to piss on. Furthermore, I can see in the distance that the chess area table this tubby fucker had just vacated was filled with dudes passing around a blunt. Apparently, my dogs not bothering anyone is a big threat to kids, but OPENLY SMOKING POT NEXT TO THE FUCKING PLAYGROUND is not. "Well, are you a cop? Are you going to write me a ticket?" I asked bitchily. I figured as long as he was busy getting high with his chess-playing friends, he wouldn't snitch. I figured wrong.
"I'm calling the cops, you fucking entitled white bitch!" he snarled at me, pulling out his cell phone.
I gave him a venomous eye-roll, and leashed my dogs. Not that the cops would come in a rapid manner for such a complaint, or actually get me in very much trouble, but in New York City a leash law violations isn't a ticket; it's a summons that you HAVE to go to court for. Not wanting to deal with that hassle and not wanting to ultimately pay $100 per dog, I figured I would just end our morning constitutional there. "Fine," I said in my bitchiest tone of voice. "We're leaving."
Unfortunately, even complying with his request didn't shut this fucker up. "YOU FUCKING BITCH, YOU THINK YOU OWN THE PARK?" he shouted at me. "YOU FUCKING ENTITLED PEOPLE WITH YOUR FUCKING DOGS! IT'S NOT YOUR FUCKING PARK!"
"Oh, really?" I snapped back. "I didn't realize it was actually YOUR park!"
"THERE ARE FUCKING KIDS PLAYING HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR FUCKING DOGS, YOU FUCKING WHITE BITCH!"
I'm not going to even attempt reasoning or shouting at someone whose argument revolves around the fact that I'm acting "entitled," I'm white, I'm a bitch, and there are allegedly children in the vicinity who can be somehow damaged by my dogs. Sure, my dogs were in violation of the leash law, but as I said, they weren't anywhere near him, his blunt-smoking chess friends, or any children. I always try to stay away from other people in the park when letting my dogs run around to be respectful of the fact that not everyone is dog-crazy, and to avoid such conflicts. Furthermore, there are a ton of people who let their dogs run around in this area, and to my knowledge no problems have occurred related to dog bites or anything of that ilk. This guy just hates dogs, so he decided to shamble halfway across the park to bark orders at me, threaten police involvement, and inexplicably bring my racial phenotype and supposed sense of entitlement to unleash my dogs in an unused green space into the matter. All I can say to a dude like that is "FUCK YOU, HATER!"
I can't understand where dog haters come from, because dogs make my life wonderful. Sure, they're a pain in the ass, but at the end of the day, my dogs are fantastic companions who bring a great deal of joy into my life and I love them dearly (even Chingy!). I can understand how someone like J-Sexy, who is a "tidy" person according to her, doesn't want to own dogs because of the problems with hair and slobber and poop-scooping that comes with the territory. Even she understands, though, how deeply dog owners bond with their pets and love them as members of their family. However, I cannot understand why anyone would go out of their way to ensure that my dogs have to stay on a leash in spite of not threatening or harassing anyone, much less resort to poisoning dogs for the crime of trampling grass in the course of exercising and playing. There is something inherently wrong with a person who hates a sweet, loving, completely innocent dog's existence so much that they would conspire to kill them with antifreeze-soaked bread (as well as any other unfortunate animals in the area, such as the raccoons that have died as collateral damage). Between the racist leash law snitch in my park and the underground dog murderer in Canada, dog hating is on the rise. I can only assume this means that the contemporary human condition is in even worse shape than I originally thought.
And on that depressing note, I'm going to go walk my dogs OFF-LEASH. Illegally. Fuck the dog haters.
Labels: Caese Doggy Dogg, CHONGAY CHONG, Daily Douchebag, doggity style, Razzyphiles
Friday, June 20, 2008
Happy birthday, Morrissey'sHair and HotLawyer!
I've made it a tradition to publicly acknowledge my friends Morrissey'sHair and HotLawyer's birthdays for the last couple years, because they were reading my site before ANY of my other friends when it was just a couple crappy movie reviews. They are the OG Titanium Elite-level Razzyphiles and that I must recognize. Plus, they're my boys and I get together with them lots whenever I'm home in the P-N-Dub. Here's some fun facts about them:
-They are appropriately Geminis, as they are twins
-Morrissey'sHair is older than HotLawyer by four minutes, just like Brandon and Brenda Walsh
-You can tell them apart because Morrissey'sHair broke his nose in junior high
-I totally boned one of them years ago (you can speculate as to which one). We were drunk. No harm, no foul!
-They are both lawyers. HotLawyer gets people off on DUIs and meth lab charges, while Morrissey'sHair negotiates bankruptcy settlements for the financially fucked
-HotLawyer has provided me with many pro boner legal services in the past whenever some fucktard threatens me with Craigslist rape or lawsuits
-Morrissey'sHair probably WILL have to provide me with pro boner legal services if I don't get out of grad school and start making some goddamned real money soon
-They both have a sickening devotion to Morrissey
-They once sent me a Rush Limbaugh book in high school from a "secret admirer" because I was such a bleeding heart neo-marxist feminazi lesbian back then. Now, they're both rabid Obama supporters and I'm a Republican. The tables have turned.
-My father LOVES them, especially HotLawyer, because of the praise they lavish on his cooking. When I mentioned I was coming home this summer for a visit, he asked, "So, what night are we having those guys over for dinner? HotLawyer sure does like my cooking."
-They're both hot studly dudes, great drankin patnaz, and totz kewl guys!
Anyway, their birthday is actually TOMORROW, but since stupid Apple has my computer somewhere in Texas while they fix it, I won't be able to post anything for them since I'll be getting drunk and sunburnt at the Coney Island Mermaid Parade all day. So today I'm recognizing that my fellas are turning the big 3-0! Only two more decades to go before they're officially over the hill.
Happy birthday, dudes. I'm going to get drunk and try to feel up some mermaid tits in your honor!
XOBJBS,
Razzy
And just for you two, here's a picture of Morrissey. Like Caese and Chingy!, he hates Iams dog food. Unlike Caese and Chingy!, it's probably because Iams isn't vegan or something. Caese and Chingy! are just Beneful loyalists.
Labels: aging, HotLawyer, Morrissey'sHair, Razzyphiles
Monday, June 02, 2008
I'm behind and I'm sorry!
So I just checked my RAZZY.org e-mail (which is something I don't do as often as I should, mainly because there's so much spam that it's aggravating sorting through it to find real e-mail from Razzyphiles and Razzy Haters), and was distressed to see that I'm getting WAY behind on my e-mail returning. I try to be good about this, but sometimes I just get sidetracked. If you've written to me lately, you might be thinking to yourself, "Who does that fucking bitch think she is to not respond? I took time to give her excellent tips and supportive words on quitting smoking or dealing with post-abortion stress/depression, or inquire about various internet, sex, and/or science-related things, or tell her she rules, or tell her I hate her, or suggest a daily dude/douchebag, or send a link to a funny news story! Talk about UNGRATEFUL to her readers!"
Well, I don't think I'm too good to return your e-mails. I just have a high standard for wit in e-mail responses, and I haven't had time to devote the attention they deserve. Therefore, I want to apologize for not getting around to this, and let you know that it isn't you, it's me. I love the fact that you all read what I put a lot of time and energy into writing, and I sincerely appreciate your making the effort to respond to it. I promise that I WILL get back to you...eventually. It's a busy time for me, what with R. Kelly on trial, and a full agenda of mice to kill, and an upcoming trip to New Orleans this weekend, so please be patient.
And in the meantime, as a token of my appreciation to all Razzyphiles and readers (whether corresponding with me or not), here's me showing some love in the form of tits, because while I'm certain you ALL read my website for the stunningly brilliant articles, nothing says "I love you" like an impromptu shot of my unshowered, barely awake self showing my cans at 6 a.m.
Labels: correspondence, excuses, nudity, Razzification, Razzy Haters, Razzyphiles
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Jesus would approve
My friend, Razzyphile, and fellow blogger Gayman e-mailed me the other day asking if I'd ever heard of the website bigchurch.com. I had not, because--and I know you will all be filled with disbelief at this revelation--I'm not trying to score honeys on the fundamentalist Christian dating circuit.
Hard as it may be to believe, I did not meet the mystery guy I like on bigchurch.com. It would be amazing if I had, since he's not even Christian. Furthermore, I suspect that bigchurch.com's members don't "share the same spiritual beliefs" as myself, unless it's opposite day and their spiritual beliefs include a deep devotion to alcohol consumption, hitting it with girls on the side, and daily masturbation. "Christian" sounds to me like "not Catholic" and especially "not a bad, sinful, depraved ex-Catholic schoolgirl bisexual slut machine a la yours truly." I'm not trying to meet a cheesy Richard Marx-meets-Jason Priestley type such as the Bible boy above, and even if I were, I'd probably go try to find him at an actual church rather than bigchurch.com.
Gayman did not, however, send me this link in the hopes that my prayers of finding a respectable man would be answered. Rather, he did a bit of research into bigchurch.org, and discovered that it's owned by an unlikely media empire:
I wonder how all those devout Christians on bigchurch.com would feel knowing that their dating website is owned by one of the world's most infamous porn empires. I'm pretty sure that even if the folks seeking pious future spouses on bigchurch.com don't approve of or consider Penthouse's content congruous with their spiritual beliefs, Jesus would be down. He was always partying with hookers, tax collectors, lepers, and the other sinful freaks of greater Galilee and Judea, so I imagine he'd be just fine with pornographers diversifying their brands to grab some market share in the world of online Christian dating. Okay, maybe it's not exactly what Jesus would do himself, but I bet he's cool with it.
I wonder how all those devout Christians on bigchurch.com would feel knowing that their dating website is owned by one of the world's most infamous porn empires. I'm pretty sure that even if the folks seeking pious future spouses on bigchurch.com don't approve of or consider Penthouse's content congruous with their spiritual beliefs, Jesus would be down. He was always partying with hookers, tax collectors, lepers, and the other sinful freaks of greater Galilee and Judea, so I imagine he'd be just fine with pornographers diversifying their brands to grab some market share in the world of online Christian dating. Okay, maybe it's not exactly what Jesus would do himself, but I bet he's cool with it.
And since my Aunt Jesus is in the market for a sanctimonious scripture-spouting boyfriend, maybe I should pass along the link to bigchurch.com to her. Then at her wedding reception, I'll give a totally inappropriate impromptu speech thanking Penthouse AND God for bringing them together. Man, that would be so awesome.
Labels: Aunt Jesus, capitalism, correspondence, Dear God, internet domination, porn, Razzyphiles
Monday, May 05, 2008
To be a baby daddy, or not to be...
Razzyphiles are a clever bunch of people. They know who gives the world's best advice, and it sure as shit ain't Dear Abby (or whoever replaced her now that she's dead). When the going gets tough, they come straight to the most reliable source for guidance since the Oracle at Delphi: YOURS TRULY. In fact, my reasoned judgment is so legendary that even Razzyphiles I don't know personally turn to me for major life decisions, as did The Mugu, who has been approached by a friend for a favor in the form of this e-mail:
Hi, Mugu.
Outside of pursuing a romantic relationship, I'd really like it if you would consider being the sperm donor for my child. It's a lot to ask, even as I tell you that your involvement in the child's life would not be required. Please take your time thinking about the implications and let me know your thoughts.
-Some chickNaturally, upon receiving this e-mail, he e-mailed me:
what am I supposed to do!?!?!?!?!?! She is a nice african american woman...I like her tremendously. I am also honored by the request. BUT!!!!.....Well, I don't mind blessing loyal readers with my insight and opinion, so I didn't require payment in the form of money or black magic against the (asshole sonofabitch bastard) Shitsburgh Stealers, although practitioners of the dark arts should feel free to do as much of that as they like. Much like Mother Teresa, I am satisfied knowing that I've done a kindness for my fellow man. I initially thought about saying "HELL NO!" but then realized that this is just because I hate kids and don't encourage anyone to have them. However, then I remembered that most people don't categorically loathe children and tried to reason accordingly. Here's the advice I gave him:
I cant tell my friends. You are a straight shooter, For your advice I will pay, or do voodoo against the SHitsburg Steelers.
O Razzy, what is a man with good genes and a high IQ to do?
Well, I don't see anything wrong with passing along your genes. I mean, all you have to do is squirt in a cup and call it a day, right? Are you dating this chick? If so, I'd think very, VERY carefully about it. If you are romantically involved, there's no way that this will be as clinical as you being a "sperm donor." If not, then it just comes down to whether or not you are comfortable with the idea. It's okay if you're not. Being uncomfortable with an idea is as good and legitimate a reason as any for not doing something.It seems I didn't get the whole story. The Mugu has a girlfriend, one who judging by her affinity for wine isn't looking to get knocked up anytime soon (good for you, sister), and he advised me that he's a little nervous about how this would all go over on the homefront:
If you decide you are comfortable with it, then just make sure you have a lawyer drawing up legal documents addressing custody rights (ie: you waiving yours) and child support (ie: her waiving her claim to that) first.
Want me to ask the internets for you? Anonymously, of course (I'll remove your name, e-mail, etc.) Sometimes the Razzyphiles can provide great insight in terms of anonymous commentary.
Thanks RazzI think wine would certainly facilitate this proposal going over better with the missus. At least he'll get her honest reaction. I watched an episode of (the greatest show in the history of television) "Beverly Hills, 90210" this weekend, and when Clare Arnold and David Silver heard from the shitfaced LuAnn Pruit that her abusive troubadour son Ray cheated on Donna Martin with that (totally awesome) slut Valerie Malone, Clare noted, "In vino veritas." David replied, "You know I don't speak Spanish!" which made me laugh, but I digress. The point is that booze is like truth serum, so if he wants an honest response from his lady friend, there's no better way to get the full story on her thoughts than to bring it up while she's blitzed. However, I got to wondering why he doesn't just make a baby the old-fashioned way with his woman than the turkey baster way with some other chick. So I replied:
The problem is at 33 I kinda want one. I have never been 100% sure that I want a child. As I have gotten older, well, you know. Sometimes things change. A few years back I would have laughed boisterously in her face.
What am I supposed to tell my GF if I go ahead with this?!?!
me - so sweetheart did you have enough wine tonight?
gf- yes, 3 bottles was enough, was there something you wanted to tell me?
me- cough* you know that girl who called the other day.
gf- ya
me- well she wants me sperms
gf- (I have no idea how she would react) cringe*
Well, if you care about your girlfriend, you should discuss it with her first. Unless you can arrange to be an anonymous donor, in which case you probably would have to waive all rights to custody, etc.Realizing that this is quite the thorny problem, Mugu assented to having his would-be baby mama drama aired out online:
And if you want to have a kid, why not discuss that with your girlfriend?
Again, you want me to ask the internets for you?
Yes Razzy,So there you have it. All you wise advice-givers out there, please opine and help poor Mugu out. For one thing, if you don't, I'll look bad since he's gone through all trouble of licking at least one girl's ass in my honor. For another, I'm curious as to what other people have to say about this. Should Mugu share his genes with this woman? Should he tell his girlfriend if he does? Any of you lawyers out there know about what kind of documentation he needs to get in order? I've heard stories about women suing "anonymous" sperm donors for child support years after the fact, which to me would certainly argue against helping this lady out with some baby batter. What is a potential sperm donor to do? Holler back on the comments. Oh, and no need to send cock pictures. I currently have a surplus of those.
put my dirt on the internets. I would send you a cock shot but im at work.
As it stands she has already told me I can waive / sign off my rights. (altho I am not familiar wit my states laws regarding this.)
She does want me to be whatever part I can manage to play in the childs life.
fek, getting busy here.
thanks for taking the time to reply. I dont care what the haters say.
I will lick a girls ass in your honor tonite.
Labels: correspondence, destroy all children, for serious people, Razzyphiles, WWRD
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Where my Jews at?
To those Razzyphiles who are members of the tribe, I wish to extend my fondest, warmest, gushiest Passover wishes to you and your families. I meant to pass this along last Saturday, but being the ignorant, self-involved shikse that I am, I forgot. Besides, I was distracted by the Pope being here in NYC, and if you ask my Aunt Jesus anyway, we Catholics worship our Papal Lord atop his throne at the Holy See (along with all those idolatrous saints). So please forgive my tardiness in giving a shout-out to God's chosen people.
To make up for my lateness, I thought I would share Passover greetings sent to me by one of my Razzyphiles, L&L. The second "L" in L&L's name stands for "Lamont," her (fucking adorable) French bulldog. If Lamont lived in NYC rather than Canada, I suspect he and Chingy! would become fast friends on the basis of their mutual disgusting stankness, and the fact that Lamont pulls shit like this:
Well, L&L appropriated Lamont to celebrate Passover via some cute-ass Photoshopping, and I thought I would share in celebration. L'chaim, Jewish Razzyphiles!
Labels: Dear God, doggity style, Razzyphiles
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Matt from Twelve Fluid Ounces
DOB: May 1, 1981
Occupation: U. S. Navy submariner, reactor operator
Hometown: Northport, New York
Current Residence: Portsmouth, New Hampshire (soon to be New London, Connecticut)
Why I Want to Hit That Hotness: Before I get started on why Matt is hot, this reminds me that I want to give a shout-out to all the hot-ass Razzyphiles in the military. I know that I've made fun of military guys a lot, primarily because the vast majority of the ones I met in Tacoma bars were completely and total dipshit. However, just because I've never taken the opportunity to say how awesome the non-dipshit military folks are (particularly those who get Razzified on the regs). You guys are way braver than myself, considering most of you are going to get stuck in that shitshow clusterfuck known as Iraq, if you haven't already. I also think that the Bush administration has particularly treated you like shit, and the rest of the country isn't always as appreciative of your sacrifices and your services as they should be. I'm honored to have you guys as readers and Razzyphiles.
Anyhow, back to Matt. Matt is a particularly redeeming figure because from what I can tell, he has the exact same job as my friend MillerTime's ex. MillerTime's ex was a douchebag of the highest order. He had red hair, sported these giant hideous coke-bottle glasses because he presumably thought they were ugly-cool, seemed to think he was the funniest fucker on the face of the earth, and wore a beat-up fedora everywhere as if he were Indiana Jones. One time he came over to my parents' house to watch the Seahawks with us, and spent the entire time rooting for the Ravens (not because he liked the Ravens, but because he wanted to aggravate everyone). That day he even picked a fight with HotLawyer's friend ScandalousLawyer over who was the most "NorCal," which was absurd since he's from fucking Santa Cruz which isn't even really considered "NorCal." ScandalousLawyer got sufficiently pissed that he probably would have given him a fully deserved ass-beating if we weren't hanging out wth my parents. He also liked to front like he was some kind of literary expert, which particularly galled myself and HotLawyer. As HotLawyer once put it, "Just because we don't read Clive Cussler novels doesn't mean we don't read." This fucktard also treated MillerTime most shabbily, and while she'd frequently write it off with "he's only 22," I didn't buy that excuse. I expect he'll be just as much of an unpleasant, socially inept, abrasive asshole when he's fifty as he is now. I was overjoyed when MillerTime finally sent his bitch-ass back to Bangor Naval Base where he belonged, and felt that if all naval submariners were cut from his cloth, they were as a whole a group of dipshits capable of producing little in me besides total ire.
Luckily, Matt came along and disproved that theory. I don't know Matt personally, but he found me thanks to IvyGate's coverage of my batshit craziness. I discovered this when I noticed that I was getting some hits from his LiveJournal blog, Twelve Fluid Ounces. I went over there and read what he had to say about me, and while he argued that I wasn't crazy, noted that he'd "probably hit it," and compared me to Tucker Max, he fairly noted that I don't measure up remotely in terms of website traffic. He also gave my site a link in his sidebar. I left a comment acknowledging my shortcomings in the not-living-up-to-Tucker-Max department and thanked him for linking me. I then gave him a reciprocal link.
Well, Matt decided to rocket further up the chart by writing a huge, lengthy post about me entitled "If you're awesome and you know it..." He declared this post "PIMP THE RAZZYBLOG time!" Then he proceeded to link to about 50 different posts I've written, providing some interesting information about each. For example, he was once at the Gold Club in Groton (a lovely establishment that one of my friends from Smith used to strip at) and found his face approximately two centimeters away from Jenna Haze's crotch. I can't sit idly by and not acknowledge the awesomeness of a Razzyphile taking so much time to spread the word about Razzified useless bullshit with more fervor than St. Paul spreading the gospel message throughout the damn Roman Empire.
I've also learned a lot besides facts about my own awesomeness from reading Matt's blog otherwise. For example, he dropped out of Cornell and joined the Navy, something that judging from his scathing posts about life on the "Submersible Death Trap" and the fact that he has a tag called "navy hate," I suspect he regrets. In fact he seems to regard the Navy similarly to the way I regard graduate school, a generally miserable experience from which there is no escape. Matt is ballsier, though, because while I just run the risk of being unhappy and getting a lot of common colds in grad school, he runs the risk of getting torpedoed or whatever bad things can happen to a submarine (buggered by his fellow submariners). He's also really ballsy for admitting something that very few other dudes in their late twenties would on the internets: he's a virgin. I'd take his V-card, except for the fact that I've actually never had sex with a virgin before and that's a conquest I've never been interested in putting on my shelf of trophy fucks. No offense to Matt, but I've had enough trouble with slutty dudes not being able to hold their load for more than thirty seconds, and I'd prefer to not be really annoyed with him since he seems like a really cool guy. However, I bet if he ever comes to New York, I can take him under my wing and teach him a few things about picking up broads. I could also probably hook him up with a nice girl who would do it the right, respectful way (or get really drunk and think it's suddenly a good idea to handle myself). Besides, ladies, he apparently loves eating pussy. Lil' Kim and I both approve.
Anyway, go read his blog. He's a good writer. There is nary a "the navy sux lol" or "that razzie gurl is hott" to be found. He also has an interesting perspective on life in the Navy, and as someone who finds most personal blogs excepting my own to be dull wastes of time, for me to consider his work "interesting" is high praise. I'm honored to add him to my stable of Razzyphiles. Matt Carberry and Twelve Fluid Ounces rules.
Labels: an officer and a hot piece, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, down with OPB (other people's blogs), hot dudes, Razzyphiles
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Daily Douchebag: my so-called contributors
DOB (respectively): 1973, 1978, 1978, 1978, 1980, 1981, 1978, 1978, and1987
Occupation: something besides helping me out in the useless bullshit department
Hometown (respectively): Northampton, Assachusetts, Columbia, South Carolina, Federal Way, Washington, Yonkers, New York, West Longbranch, New Jersey, San Francisco, California, Federal Way, Washington, Alexandria, Louisiana, and Queens, New York
Current residence (respectively): New York, New York, Brooklyn, New York, Tacoma, Washington, Yonkers, New York, New York, New York, New Orleans, Louisiana, Seattle, Washington, Washington, DC, and Queens, New York
Douchebaggery: Okay, I'm not REALLY calling you guys douchebags. It's just that last night I went to JerseyGirl's boyfriend Kodiak's birthday party, and I am having a hard time getting my sorry ass out of bed to face the world today. You guys are awesome, and I know you're busy, but now would be a great time to help a bitch out. HotLawyer and Motherbucker have never even written the posts they were once so excited to have the opportunity to bless the internets with. This week JerseyGirl said she was writing something but I have yet to see a draft on the desk I don't have. And I know it's been slow in the R. Kelly legal news department, but surely Morrissey'sHair is annoyed by something going on in the wild world of bankruptcy law that he could write. Benzo hasn't left a single bitchy comment in spite of last week's orgy of McCain adulation and that makes me wonder if he's even been keeping up with his Razzification. And okay, fine, LL Cool Jew had a big event to throw and her anniversary to celebrate, but that ho can't tell me she wasn't watching "Top Chef" last night instead of typing up something I can use here. ILoveWhiteTrash was getting drunk in the virology conference room yesterday after a particularly well-stocked thesis defense party, so I know she could have whipped something up after the beer ran out. And FalloniusMonk is always traveling for work, but she can't tell me she doesn't tote her MacBook around everywhere just like I do. That hooker was taking lessons on Mac snobbery at the Apple store, so I know she can get a wireless connection from Jacksonville, Florida or whatever other hellhole she is in getting her experiential marketing on.
Like I said before, you guys are awesome, but you'd be even MORE awesome if you wrote random Daily Douchebag entries for me to throw on the blog on days when I'm finding it challenging to be anything BUT horizontal. HINT, HINT! Get cracking.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, excuses, Razzyphiles
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Charlton Heston is dead...
...but ElCyd is fortunately alive and well and Razzified as can be, and in case you didn't notice her awesome post yesterday, she's covering college hoops for RAZZY.org as of yesterday. Well, college hoops as they relate to Kansas. Somewhere J-Sexy is rolling her eyes and saying, "GREAT. More ridicolos sports. As if there's not enough of that stewpid football on your blog, Razzy." Halfhearted apologies to my platonic life partner and all the ladies (and dudes) who don't like reading about sports. I do, and it's my website, so ElCyd's coverage of the Jayhawks is something you'll have to live with for the next day. Count your blessings, sports haters and fans alike, because it could be worse. ElCyd is a lesbian; she could be covering the WNBA.
So now, thanks to ElCyd, you all can read lots of hating on Roy Williams and bragging about the NCAA Champs. Obviously I'm reserving Daily Dude I Want to Hit today for her to gush about Kansas, as she not only assured me that she would write something "no matter how hung over" she is, it's not like there's any other reason to gush about Kansas...ever. I mean, what's in Kansas besides tornadoes that double as portals to Oz other than their (now national champion) men's college basketball team? If that's not your bag, then just do what you normally do when I start bitching about Super Bowl XL: scroll down to the inevitable post about sucking dick or my tits. Maybe if we're all really lucky, ElCyd will regale us with some tales about her childhood down the block from the inimitable Reverend Fred "God Hates Fags" Phelps in beautiful Topeka once her March Madness-related excitement abates.
Welcome to the family, ElCyd! Hey, leave her some comments to remind this premiere Razzyphile (she started the world's greatest Facebook group, which you should join before you're the last kid at your school to do so) what an honor it is to have passed my rigorous criteria for contributing to this website (which, on an irate aside, was passed up for a Pulitzer AGAIN this year...bastards)! Or hate on her so she can be more like her idol (me). I suggest "fat", "ugly", "skanky", "attention whore", or "batshit crazy." ElCyd loves the classics.
Labels: ElCyd, hot chicks, March Madness, Razzyphiles, sportsmen
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: members of the Razzyphiles Facebook group
DOB: various
Occupation: useless bullshit connoisseurs, hot-ass pieces, lovers of yours truly
Hometown: various
Current residence: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=25477690607&ref=mf
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Yesterday I was in a dark and depressed mood (and I was horribly hung over from drinking my problems temporarily away the night before), and I spent much of the day conferring (Gchatting) with the Razzy.org Office of General Counsel. At one point, I was on the Gchat horn with ElCyd, and after a lengthy conversation about legal matters, she changed the subject to cheer me up:
ElCyd: i think we should start a razzyphiles facebook group
Razzy: HELL YES!
Razzy: that turned my frown upside down
ElCyd: YES!
ElCyd: who doesn't want to be a razzyphile?
Razzy: FOR REAL
ElCyd: holler at me if you want to chat more
ElCyd: ima make this razzy group
ElCyd: lates
Razzy: HOT
(10 minutes later)
ElCyd: i've appointed myself RazzificatorAnyway, ElCyd managed to hook me up with two things I needed: lawyerly advice and a much-needed ego stroking. I am pleased to say that with regard to the latter, there are now almost 30 official card-carrying Razzyphiles...and I don't personally know at least 10 of them! In fact, when I joined my own fan club, there were already four other members, and I had joined 5 minutes after its creation! That rules so hard.
ElCyd: because it's so GWBush-like
Razzy: NICE
Razzy: i love it
Razzy: wait, is it on facebook yet?
Razzy: because i'm obvi joining immediately
ElCyd: yes
ElCyd: i sent you an invitation
ElCyd: (duh)
Razzy: KICK ASS
ElCyd: hell yeah.
Razzy: dude i love it
Razzy: this has turned a shitty day into a great one!
Razzyphiles are the hotness in my book (duh), as in addition to loving me, they are willing to sign up for "useless bullshit" as one of their main "Beliefs and Causes." That is a belief and cause I respect and have devoted my extracurricular life to, and I salute you all for being insanely smart, clever, sensible, maddeningly sexy, and generally rocking harder than a Judas Priest concert circa 1986. I love you guys. For serious, people. I really, really, REALLY do, and I thank you from the bottom of my tar-filled, shriveled Grinch heart for your reading what I put a lot of time and effort into, telling me what you think, and lining up behind me in support. Oh, and your worshipful adoration. That rules too.
Oh, yeah, and if you haven't joined yet, what's your problem? Don't you want to be one of the (30) cool kids on Facebook? I mean, if you're on MySpace instead, let me remind you that it's not 2005 anymore. Facebook is what all the youngsters are doing these days on the social networkity internets, so get with the times. And make your Razzyphile status official by joining the group! YEAH!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, ElCyd, Facebook, I LOVE IT, internet domination, Razzyphiles
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Razzyphiles: the Facebook group
In addition to providing me with excellent (and free) legal advice, hilarious inside information on her hometown homo-hater Rev. Fred Phelps, and generally being a hot piece, ElCyd just ran even further up the Razzyphile ranks by starting a RAZZYPHILES FACEBOOK GROUP!!!!
She also did this on a day when I needed it most, as I have been enveloped in a dark cloud of positively un-Razzified energy all day long, and have spent much of my day corresponding with various attorney types and feeling cranky. I'm still convinced that I am absolutely in the clear and everything is going to be A-okay (sorry to disappoint Anonymous the Armchair Lawyer who continually chimes in with predictions of doom for myself) with regard to my legal drama, but nonetheless, this turned my frown upside down.
So obviously, you should all go out and join. Except Razzy Haters, who are welcome to stay put and continue opining on my being (old/ugly/fat/badly coiffed/stupid/boring/skanky/legally fucked over/inept/lame/pathetic/insert other negative descriptor of choice here) and generally rejoicing in my misery and unhappiness on the comment pages. I have my own Facebook group! WIth 16 people in it. Including at least ONE who I don't even know! That totally rules.
What are you waiting for? Go make your Razzyphiliac status totally official and join my Facebook fan club NOW.
Labels: ElCyd, I LOVE IT, internet domination, Razzification, Razzyphiles
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: helpful Razzyphiles
Name: Whatever is on your driver's license/passport/valid government ID, unless you consider yourself a Razzy Hater, in which case you should fuck promptly off
DOB: various
Occupation: various, but all involve being supportive and totally ruling
Hometown: various
Current residence: Razzy Kills (in Dutch, that means "Razzy Creek"!)
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Because when he said "I'm gonna sue you," you all really felt for me. The past two days have been very stressful for me, but thanks to all the excellent advice I've received about my current legal trouble, I think I'm going to be okay. In fact, I think I'm going to continue to totally rule. My business is being handled, and I feel better about the whole shitshow because not only am I confident that I have done nothing wrong, I've received so much kind support and advice from so many of you. Without all those Gchats, comments, phone conversations, personal conversations, and e-mails, I wouldn't be nearly as calm and prepared for battle as I am now. You guys TOTALLY rock, and I don't care if you say something as simple as "You rule, Razzy!" or give me specific and comprehensive legal advice. Your moral and technical support absolutely means the world to me, and I thank you with far more sincerity and candor than the
In particular, I'd like to emphatically honor the following Razzyphiles:
HotLawyer
JerseyGirl
Morrissey'sHair
LL Cool Jew
BigBagel
Benzo
Senioritis
Twathopper
J-Sexy
SisterChristian
My PI
KatieScarlett
Wmania
Fallonius Monk
ElCyd
L&L
For those people and others who have sent me sentiments of support and helpful advice, I feel so much gratitude that I am actually unable to express it right now. Win or lose, my spirit is indomitable thanks to you all. I love you guys. TRUST!
Labels: grad school bullshit, legal drama, Razzification, Razzyphiles
Monday, March 10, 2008
Go down strapped
Lil' Wayne has done it again: he has come up with a classic photo for the "Say Something Nice" file. Surprisingly, this time it isn't a mugshot. Not surprisingly, it's more homoerotic than the milk bath scene in Spartacus. It seems Lil' Wayne has decided to extend his merchandizing empire to condoms. There is a niche market for scrawny pot-smoking thugs who like to get together with their fake adopted fathers for a brisk game of (wink, wink) poker, and Tha Carter is tapping it like Birdman does his ass:
This isn't doing much to help the case that Lil' Wayne is a virile heterosexual, although it does provide some insight as to why he seems to be so fond of getting arrested. First he gets warmed up being manhandled by a grimacing Perez Hilton-looking cop, followed by some hot flesh-shanking with the boys in the pokey. I'm glad he's conscious (right down to his little red AIDS ribbon) of making sure said boys don't spread their HIV around to the entire cellblock. Smart thinking, Weezy Fuckin' Baby.
[RAZZY Note: Thanks to Razzyphile HotCzech for passing this along. Happy Razzyphile Appreciation Month! XOBJBS.]
Labels: Birdman, hilarious shit, Lil' Wayne, Razzyphiles, sex, vulgar display of faggotry
Friday, March 07, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Razzyphiles
DOB: various
Occupation: sending me awesome adulatory e-mails
Hometown: various
Current residence: various
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I've been getting a lot of e-mail lately from random Razzyphiles, and I don't mean my friends. I mean honest to God people I've never met before who rely on me for their daily allowance of useless bullshit. I don't always get back to these correspondents in a timely manner, but I appreciate each and every e-mail nonetheless. For one thing, it's nice to get e-mail not written by lunatics and/or racists and/or haters telling me that I suck and/or am fat and/or am ugly and/or whatever else. For another, it makes waking up every day to write at the ass crack of dawn worth every drop of Sugar Free Red Bull needed to sustain my consciousness in the absence of a crowing cock at that hour. If I didn't care that people read this, I'd stick to writing a damn journal; knowing that people do, I treat this blog like a second job and hearing that people are enjoying my hard work is all the payoff I need.
Razzyphiles, you totally rock, and I've decided that March is now officially Razzyphile Appreciation Month. I will try to honor any and all requests that come my way (so yes...at some point this month, I'll put up full-frontal nudes since a lot of people out there seem deeply interested in seeing my vagina. I aim to please!) So if there's something you want me to write about, something I told you I'd write about but haven't gotten around to, or some other reasonable request (ie: I won't commit any crimes, fuck anyone ugly or desperate--at least without having a drink or ten first, or write something that casts a favorable light on "Grey's Anatomy") for Razzified hotness, leave a comment or send me an e-mail and I'll do it!
In fact, honoring such a request is why you see Chingy!'s ugly mug up at the top of this post in the first place. One of these Razzyphilic e-mails came from a reader in Canada who was surprisingly not outraged by the indictment of hockey, Nickelback, and Anne of Green Gables I wrote a while back like many of her countrymen, and she wanted to see more Chingy!. If pictures of that fat asshole were gold, I'd be a very wealthy woman, so how could I say no?
Anyway, I'm a Razzyphilephile, and I thank each and every one of you for reading from the bottom of my black and merciless heart. You rule harder than receiving cunnilin