Thursday, February 28, 2008
Bitch jacked my car
Yesterday my buddy The Artist Formerly Known as Mullah AntoniHo (TAFKAMA) was driving around Seattle. Judging by the picture, it looks like he was going to buy some new certified pre-owned jeans at the Salvation Army, when he noticed the personalized license plate on the car in front of him. He resourcefully snapped a pic with his camera phone and sent it right on to me.
I suspect the "B" stands for "bitch" or "blog," because it's obvious that this SHOULD BE my car. For all the hard work I put in here at RAZZY.org, and at my day job as a science nerd, the least that the fates could do to reward my efforts is hook me up with a Porsche rocking the world's sexiest personalized license plate. I certainly hope that car wasn't being driven by a certain comb-over-sporting failed country singer who I challenged and eventually defeated in a contest for supremacy at Google searches for "Razzy." In fact, my useless bullshit owned Razzy Bailey so hard that his site isn't even on the internets anymore. I win again and as usual! Therefore, if this is Razzy Bailey's car (and WHY did that fucker move from Nashville to my home state in the beautiful P-N-Dub?), he had better hand it over complete with Razzified vanity plate, lest he infringe on my position as the online world's most dominant Razzy.
That Porsche is mine.
That Porsche is mine.
Labels: driving, I LOVE IT, Mullah AntoniHo, Razzification, Razzyphiles
Friday, December 21, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Pitbull
Alias: Lil' Chico, Mr. 305
DOB: January 14, 1981
Occupation: rapper, hottest drunk driver of all time
Hometown: Miami, Florida
Current residence: Miami, Florida
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I've thought Pitbull was a pretty hot piece ever since he did that song with the Ying Yang Twins and exhorted everyone to "get crunk, get drunk, get loose, get blown", extolled his fondness for "swollen" breast, and repeatedly shouted "dale huevo" (nasty dude). As Michael K. of Dlisted notes, he's "hot in a douche sort of way. He would be the type of dude that keeps his boots on during sex because he thinks it's 'ghetto' or 'hardcore.'" So true.
Further validating Pitbull's hotness is the fact that he got pulled over going 93 mph in a 55 mph zone, and the cop suspected he was fucked up. He asked him to blow a breathalyzer, which he subsequently failed. When the cop went to arrest him, Pitbull waived his right to remain silent and advised the officer of his feelings on the matter: "This is a big waste of your time, papo."
SO AWESOME. If I ever get popped for DUI, right before I say, "I want my lawyer" I am going to say exactly that just to registed my opinion in the hottest manner possible. Unless I get pulled over by King County Sheriff's Deputy David Roscoe Hutchinson IV, in which case I'm going to be like, "Well, you busting me for DUI is certainly ironic given the number of times you've been swerving your fucking Jeep all over highway 18 coming home from the Muckleshoot Casino after losing your girlfriends' money during an epic booze and Texas Hold 'Em binge. You deserve to be the biggest cuckold in all of Puyallup, you fucking dickless tool. Now call HotLawyer."
Labels: alcoholism, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, driving, hot dudes, rap
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Daily Douchebag: the DMV
Occupation: making one's life miserable every few years
Current residence: that clusterfuck of post offices and overpriced Irish pubs across from Madison Square Garden
Douchebaggery: Being that it is my birthday on Saturday, I now have to take care of an errand I've dreaded ever since moving to the fair isle of Mannahattas...exchanging my beloved Washington state driver's license which lists my address as 1007 North K St, Tacoma AKA the City of Destiny, WA for a New York license. My license expires on Saturday as my last year in my twenties commences, so unless I want to take another driving test at some later date (I DO NOT!), I've got to schlep my sorry ass over to the DMV and cough up a dollar or eighty for my official government issued ID. On the bright side, this means I'll have an ID that has a shot at being marginally okay-looking. Not that I really mind TOO much that my Washington state ID really makes me look like a true Tacoma girl. The kind of girl who likes spiral perms, NASCAR, banana clips, and breast-feeding while a stolen Costco-sized shipment of pseudoephedrine dissolves in a heating bucket of anhydrous ammonia:
Hopefully I'll look all sophisticated and shit on my new ID, which will list my address as the sexy-sounding New York, New York. Chances are, however, that with my track record of non-photogenic ID pictures, I'll probably just look like a slightly more urban meth cookin' PWT hooker. Oh well. It's better than my passport photo (taken my senior year of college), in which I look like I should be on the cover of a Smith admissions brochure engaging in spirited intellectual conversation about gender politics with all my smart Smithie friends under some lovely blazing New England fall foliage beneath the caption "SMITH COLLEGE: Where Women's Minds Matter":
Labels: Daily Douchebag, driving, NYC, oh the horror, Razzification, vanity, you're ugly
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Al Gore III
Name: Al Gore III
Real Name: Albert Arnold Gore III
DOB: October 19, 1982
Occupation: Publisher of GOOD, a magazine about young philanthropists; hippie trust fund pothead and prescription drug enthusiast
Hometown: somewhere in Tennessee
Current Residence: Los Angeles, California
Douchebaggery: This dumbass got pulled over doing 100 miles per hour in a fucking PRIUS. Of course Al Gore's son drives a hybrid. It would have been MUCH cooler if he were rebelling against the old man and speeding around in a Hummer. Unfortunately for him, the cops detected smells indicating that he'd been blowing trees in the car and searched it, where they found his stash of weed, Valium, Xanax, Vicodin, and Adderall. Unlike Paris Hilton, this asshole does NOT have ADD, so he has no excuse for his portable pharmacy. I guess at Harvard they don't teach fat obvious legacy admissions not to exceed the speed limit by 40 miles an hour while you're stoned and carrying. They should have, because he got busted for possession while driving while he was going there. Learn your lesson, fucktard! Stay under 65 mph while you're hot boxing in the Prius!
Labels: crime and punishment, Daily Douchebag, driving, drugs, politics
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Christmas might come early
Like the rest of the mentally competent world, Los Angeles prosecutors have had enough of Paris Hilton. After she repeatedly violated her probation by publicly drinking, driving multiple times with a suspended license, and failing to sign up for the mandatory alcohol education program that was part of her original DUI sentence, the LA City Attorney has decided to try and put this dumb bitch in jail. Per TMZ.com:
I can only hope that when she shows up for her revised sentencing tomorrow, she gets some notorious hanging judge who is itching to make an example out of her lesion-encrusted ass. Forty-five days of blissfully Paris-free celebrity gossip, along with the satisfying knowledge that she's experiencing all sorts of unimaginable indignities at the hands of a three hundred pound convicted MS-13 illegal gun dealer, is like the best Christmas present a girl could ask for. Seriously, I'd rather have this than a new car or a diamond tiara.
Time to pay the fiddler, whore!
The legal papers ask that "Hilton be ordered to serve 45 days in County Jail." Prosecutors also want her to be ordered "not to consume any alcohol for a continuous period of 90 days." During that 90-day period, prosecutors want her "to be monitored for alcohol consumption ... by use of a Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitoring (SCRAM) device at her expense.Rock on, LA City Attorney. I can't wait to see this dumb twat get her ass destroyed by the fierce bulldykes in the slammer for starting what will undoubtedly be one of the most virulent and transmissible herpes outbreaks in prison history since Heidi Fleiss cooled her heels there. I've felt that Paris Hilton should be incarcerated for some time. Much to my vehement objection, it seems like confusing the possessive form of "your" for the contraction "you're" is not a jailworthy offense, nor is generally being an insufferable cunt and media whore, nor is fucking Joe Francis (unless, of course, you're Joe Francis, who deserves every cornholing he's probably getting right now in Florida):
Time to pay the fiddler, whore!
Labels: alcoholism, assholes, comeuppance, crime and punishment, driving, I LOVE IT, sluts
Monday, November 20, 2006
Dig your way out of this, assholes
Fuck pahkin ya cah in Hahvahd yahd - the new Xtreme sport in Boston is neither finding an open space or understanding the natives, but actually making it to your parking spot.
Well, be fair, not new. But now, it's not the demon drivers that threaten your survival during your journey through Bean Town.
It's the motherfucking road.
I will be the first, second and third to admit that I am no specialist in highway planning. Beware the DOT that plots out a too-tight cloverleaf or fails to number its exits by the mile marker, and might I add that I was awesome at Calculus.
But let's be real, I don't do infrastructure. All the more reason for me to openly admit that I have no business mapping out the pathways of interstates, roads, or even remote cul-de-sacs. So why in the shit should the self-proclaimed intellectual capital of the free green goddamn world not have more sense than to HIRE AN ENGINNER FOR THE BIG DIG?
It was one thing to have the shit collapse on a hapless driver. But dying in transit is par for the course in Boston. Test of the mettle. This, though, this is one of the most extraordinary abuses of Extreme Engineering to hit the Eastern Seaboard in some time. Let's explore:
1. Built on Ass (1): the concrete is shoddy and leaks water. What this means to you and me, friends, is that Boston now rivals New York for which city will fold in on itself faster in the event of a flood, bombing, or subway failure. So take that, MTA - and take my fare back down to $1.50 while you're at it.
2. No Taxation Without... ?: THE SHIT WAS 700% OVER BUDGET. Clearly no one involved has ever worked in the private sector. Your ass would be canned so fast... oh, wait, he was. And they kept digging....
3. Matures With Age: two+ long decades after it began, it is a certifiable failure. To quote Marsellus Wallace, "Motherfuckers thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does." Nuff said.
4. Built on Ass (2): the anchor bolts are made not of metal, but epoxy, and fail to extend through the base support of the structure. If one bolt goes, the whole fucking road tumbles - akin to the lame-ass dismantling of the GG Bridge in X3. So alls I can say is, while a hazard to all living persons, this thing will be safe from Magneto when he regains his powers (and Brett Ratner when he regains his career, bless).
5. White Trash: the construction site was a landfill. I don't mean Boston - I hold my own opinion about that. I mean the construction site proper. Pipes. Garbage. Rats. Hard day at work when your quality of life would be higher in the post-Katrina Superdome.
6. L is for Lost Highway: from the people who brought you John Kerry.
7. Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm: ever thought you'd agree with Reagan? Well he thought it was a bullshit idea, and blast, he was right.
So. In short. That is the tribute that Boston can offer in the name of John F. Kennedy. Note to self: beware public projects named after matryred playboy presidents. And more importantly, remember to keep the shit out of the Commonwealth.
Well, be fair, not new. But now, it's not the demon drivers that threaten your survival during your journey through Bean Town.
It's the motherfucking road.
I will be the first, second and third to admit that I am no specialist in highway planning. Beware the DOT that plots out a too-tight cloverleaf or fails to number its exits by the mile marker, and might I add that I was awesome at Calculus.
But let's be real, I don't do infrastructure. All the more reason for me to openly admit that I have no business mapping out the pathways of interstates, roads, or even remote cul-de-sacs. So why in the shit should the self-proclaimed intellectual capital of the free green goddamn world not have more sense than to HIRE AN ENGINNER FOR THE BIG DIG?
It was one thing to have the shit collapse on a hapless driver. But dying in transit is par for the course in Boston. Test of the mettle. This, though, this is one of the most extraordinary abuses of Extreme Engineering to hit the Eastern Seaboard in some time. Let's explore:
1. Built on Ass (1): the concrete is shoddy and leaks water. What this means to you and me, friends, is that Boston now rivals New York for which city will fold in on itself faster in the event of a flood, bombing, or subway failure. So take that, MTA - and take my fare back down to $1.50 while you're at it.
2. No Taxation Without... ?: THE SHIT WAS 700% OVER BUDGET. Clearly no one involved has ever worked in the private sector. Your ass would be canned so fast... oh, wait, he was. And they kept digging....
3. Matures With Age: two+ long decades after it began, it is a certifiable failure. To quote Marsellus Wallace, "Motherfuckers thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does." Nuff said.
4. Built on Ass (2): the anchor bolts are made not of metal, but epoxy, and fail to extend through the base support of the structure. If one bolt goes, the whole fucking road tumbles - akin to the lame-ass dismantling of the GG Bridge in X3. So alls I can say is, while a hazard to all living persons, this thing will be safe from Magneto when he regains his powers (and Brett Ratner when he regains his career, bless).
5. White Trash: the construction site was a landfill. I don't mean Boston - I hold my own opinion about that. I mean the construction site proper. Pipes. Garbage. Rats. Hard day at work when your quality of life would be higher in the post-Katrina Superdome.
6. L is for Lost Highway: from the people who brought you John Kerry.
7. Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm: ever thought you'd agree with Reagan? Well he thought it was a bullshit idea, and blast, he was right.
So. In short. That is the tribute that Boston can offer in the name of John F. Kennedy. Note to self: beware public projects named after matryred playboy presidents. And more importantly, remember to keep the shit out of the Commonwealth.
Labels: Assachusetts, driving, retard rage, scathing indictments
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