Monday, January 26, 2009
...and STAY OUT of the World Economic Forum!
I just read an article about how this year's World Economic Forum at Davos, Switzerland is going to be short on the celebrities compared to years past. Instead, this year the party is going to feature a bunch of boring world leaders. Surely the people of Davos are going to be totally bummed that instead of Claudia Schiffer, an inexplicable attendee from years past, they are going to be rubbing elbows with hot pieces like these:
I'm not bummed, however, that something called the "World Economic Forum" is being attended by various presidents and prime ministers rather than a bunch of celebrity douchebags. In fact, I'm hardly surprised that the global economy is as fucked as it is considering that last year, the keynote speaker was the head of Lehman Brothers. Furthermore, years past have also seen the likes of these fucktards running around:
Yeah, I'm sure they made some really important contributions to this event. Angelina Jolie could talk about how best to steal orphans from developing countries to promote an image of saintliness, Brad Pitt could explain how a gold-plated couch is a sensible investment, and Bono can explain how to simultaneously maintain a smug, overly pious demeanor while lecturing people about poverty from behind his rose-colored designer sunglasses and run an AIDS charity into the ground. No wonder that with a bunch of self-righteous geniuses like these running the world economy we are currently as fucked as we are.
I'm not bummed, however, that something called the "World Economic Forum" is being attended by various presidents and prime ministers rather than a bunch of celebrity douchebags. In fact, I'm hardly surprised that the global economy is as fucked as it is considering that last year, the keynote speaker was the head of Lehman Brothers. Furthermore, years past have also seen the likes of these fucktards running around:
People who spend their time renting 32,000 square foot mansions while arrogantly lecturing the little people about doing their part should not be anywhere near a place where decisions are being made regarding the reinvigoration of the world's stalled credit markets. Bono should be excluded based on those dumb sunglasses alone. Yeah, we get it, asshole. Even when you are trying to show off what a big social conscience you have, you're still a rich rock star. An aging, obnoxious rock star who likes pink lenses, much like my one aunt who sold Mary Kay did in the 80s. However, Vladimir Putin, who is also known to play ridiculous dress-up, still has the decency and professionalism to show up for a fucking economic forum in a suit sans decorative eyewear. I suspect this is because Putin is famous for, oh, say, RUNNING RUSSIA WITH AN IRON FIST instead of singing inexplicable Spanish on iPod commercials. Not that I'm a big fan of Putin's autocratic stranglehold on the Russian government or his apparent desire to deprive former Soviet territories of their independence via carpet bombing, but he's certainly more qualified to sit in a meeting about the global economy than a dude whose primary achievement on the world political stage is being the most recognizable person in Ireland. Sorry, Bono, but while the whole world liked "With or Without You," writing the lyrical content of The Joshua Tree album doesn't give you the economic credentials to do anything besides interrupt, distract from, and generally disrupt the productivity of actually powerful people trying to stave off a global depression.
It's a little late, but better late than never in terms of booting these pompous, unqualified retards out of forums like these. Angela Merkel doesn't need to get Brangelina or Bono's two cents before she starts strategizing with Gordon Brown and Nicolas Sarkozy about how to save Europe's banks. Way to improve the World Economic Forum. Go Swiss bankers!
Labels: assholes, capitalism, celebrities, international intrigue, politics, retard rage
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Calling in gay
Today is this "Day Without A Gay" protest, and I suppose that as an openly bisexual woman I should be calling in gay right now.
I guess this whole thing was dreamed up after a couple of homos read Lysistrata and noticed that the Day Without Immigrants got a lot of press attention. Specifically the "H8" that this jam is protesting is proposition 8, the California voter initiative banning gay marriage, and all the douchebag losers who support it under the pretense that civilization will crumble if gays are allowed to get married. I mean, if gays can get married then they will be TEACHING IN SCHOOLS that gays are equal citizens entitled to the same rights as everyone else! Furthermore, if perverts like the hommasekshuls can get hitched, so can anyone! People will start marrying their siblings! Or pets! As Dr. Peter Venkman once said, "Dogs and cats, living together...MASS HYSTERIA!" At least these are the dire consequences that the pro-prop 8 people are suggesting necessitate their attempts to strip the gays of their basic human rights. Anyone with half a brain can tell that proposition 8 is not about "protecting marriage" so much as providing homophobes with legal justification for discriminating against us.
I'm all for saying a great big "fuck you" to the intolerant dickbags that want to spend so much time trying to keep us queers from having the same basic civil rights as everybody else, but I'm just not sure "calling in gay" is the way to do so. For one thing, if I "call in gay," the only thing I'm interfering with is my own progress through graduate school. I have no idea if my PI (boss) knows that I'm bisexual, as I've never formally sat him down and said, "Oh, by the way, I like snatch sometimes." He certainly wouldn't care one way or the other, but he'd also probably be confused about why I was taking the day off even if I explained it. He knows how much work I have to do before I graduate, and since I'm not planning on marrying anyone of either gender anytime soon, the only thing I should be doing is a fuckload of mouse experiments. Although I'm pretty sure that here in fag-friendly New York I'm not in a state where I can be fired (or, more accurately, expelled) for my sexual orientation, I still can't really take the day off from lab to go volunteer somewhere. Also, I can't alternatively refuse to spend any money today. I spend as little money as possible anyway because I'm ridiculously poor, but I have to get coffee. That isn't an option.
I'd be happy to educate people about the Employment Non-Discrimination Act or contact Rep. Charles Rangel or Senators Schumer and Clinton (and Caroline Kennedy, if necessary) to voice my support for said bill, as the Day Without A Gay website suggests I should do in lieu of playing hooky for gay marriage. In spite of my selfish desire to go work today, and my generally cynical attitude about life, I do feel very strongly about gay rights and equality. Gays seem to be the one group that it's still legally and socially acceptable to withhold civil rights from, primarily because a bunch of religious types want to impose their beliefs on everyone else. Granted, these same religious types like to claim that gays are doing exactly that by fighting for marriage rights, although I would argue that according to the U.S. Constitution and judicial precedent, this fight is about rights that we already have on paper. In 1967, the Supreme Court invalidated laws against racial intermarriage in Loving v. Virginia, noting that marriage to the partner of a person's choosing is "one of the vital personal rights essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness." The last time I checked the Constitution, the "pursuit of happiness" was described as an "inalienable right." I interpret this as meaning that marriage to anybody–including someone of the same sex–is protected by the Constitution and any state laws prohibiting it should be invalid. Of course, I assume that until the Supreme Court throws down on this issue, that's all up for debate.
Although I'm not calling in gay today, I'd like to do something that for me is equally rare: encourage activism. Normally I think social activism is for hippies and annoying Smith girls, but I don't think these religious cocksuckers should get to decide which of my civil rights should be imposed upon because they don't want their children to learn tolerance in schools, or because they are somehow threatened by gays being afforded basic human rights. I resent being told that "protecting marriage" is somehow different and more admirable than "God Hates Fags," or that being gay is somehow undeserving of equal treatment under the law. My lazy ass is even going to write a letter to my elected representatives about it (although I will try to avoid using terms such as "cocksucker", "douchenozzle", or "dickbag" in my correspondence). If you can't call in gay, I strongly recommend you do the same.
Labels: assholes, lezbollah, politics, vulgar display of faggotry
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Unthanksgiving
At Thanksgiving, usually people spend a lot of time reflecting on all the fabulous things in their lives. Most people, no matter how hard-hearted or cynical, will at least take a few minutes to acknowledge the fact that it's great their houses haven't gone into foreclosure...yet, or that even if the Seahawks suck at least their number two favorite team the Titans are kicking ass, or that beer, dogs, and pepperoni pizza remain plentiful, or that or they got laid this month. I'm sure I'll have a misty little moment tomorrow when I've got my hand rammed up a giant Butterball's ass as I try to fill its body cavity with a tampon full of Pepperidge Farm stuffing. However, this year that moment will be brief because this year there are so many damn things to be pissed off and not one bit thankful about. In addition to obvious downers like the economy, the job market, my unnecessarily yet perpetually dramatic work environment, my Atlas-caliber workload, and the soul-manglingly depressing fact that I'm still in hell grad school, I've realized that this year, I'm more pissed off at the little things than usual.
Most Thanksgiving-time blog posts will be about the authors' gratitude for happy things like sugar cookies, Jesus and snow and free babysitters and other stuff Mormons like, watching Juno and Mamma Mia instead of dying of typhus in a concentration camp, the joys of making holiday feasts with semen, your ugly, breasticled husband, the inanity of Twittering, or tea, Byzantine costumes, and pussy, Hell, even Duff McKagan is blogging about how he's thankful for his wife, kids, friends, Seattle (which earns an eye-roll with a touch of side-eye from me), "Flight of the Conchords," and something Krist Novoselic wrote once about the '92 VMAs. Therefore, I thought I would take it upon myself to mention a few of the MANY things I am most certainly NOT pleased with, much less grateful for.
Peter Orszag's appointment as head of the Obama Office of Management and Budget
I have no idea what Orszag's job qualifications are to be America's top accountant other than he apparently passed the epic and invasive job application Obama was requiring prospective employees to fill out. One question the comprehensive vetting process missed, however, was "Is your haircut a variation on a nine-year-old boy twenty years ago?" Peter Orszag is like a halfassed Bob Saget impersonator rocking the same bowl-above, shaved-below look my brother rocked to the opening of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie in like 1990. If he can balance the budget in these trying times, then props to him, but he ought to celebrate with a new style. I hear they make some really fashionable toupeés these days.
Kanye West has a new album out
I've begrudgingly liked a few Kanye West songs in the last year or so, and this has disturbed me. Granted, they were mostly songs that also featured Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter, Clifford "T.I." Harris, or Jay "Young Jeezy" Jenkins, but still...normally I bear such a passionate hatred for Kanye West himself that this precludes me liking anything he's associated with. In fact, after admitting that I LOVED the "Lollipop" remix, I proceeded to convince myself that the "Kanye West" credit on the song was a misprint and it was really Faheem "T-Pain" Najm trying a new setting on his vocorder. Now that Kanye has a new album out, though, I get the feeling I'm going to be hearing a lot of Lil' Wayne, T.I., and Young Jeezy-free Kanye jams, and this doesn't bode well for 2009.
The 'Sprout is out
I've previously discussed my disdain for this blogger going by "Writersprout," because not only is her writing appallingly poor, she really pulled a head-job on my lesbian apprentice Twathopper. And I don't mean she gave Twathopper head; I mean this bitch dragged Twathopper to every open-mic night at every fucking intentionally dingy "performance space" in Williamsburg and the Lower East Side, probably while jabbering incessantly about jogging, subletting, and cupcakes, and then, after Twathopper went through all this pussy-grooming trouble, hooked up with some other bitches instead. People who manage to combine the world's most obnoxiously contrived personality with a track record of doing mean things to my friends are high up on my Enemy List. However despite my utter contempt for her, thanks to Writersprout I've had endless comic material for my friends' amusement, culminating in a recent blog I started paying homage to her upcoming graduate degree in popular fictional creative non-fiction (no joke) via a serious of riveting mystery stories. Sadly, before I could publish the first of the Brooklyn Cupcake Marathon Mysteries, Writersprout went and defaulted on her web hosting bill! How am I supposed to launch a parody Writersprout's insufferable, Roget-augmented wordsmithery when her site redirects to a "Error-Deadbeat Hosting Customer" page? You can still read her lame blog about subletting for fun, but it's just not the same. Thanks a lot, Writersprout, for so cruelly snatching away my dream to spend a lot of time ragging on you hard.
Beyoncé is SASHA FIERCE
This wasn't cool when Garth Brooks did it, so I don't know why Beyoncé thinks she can get away with it. Apart from acquiring a name that sounds even MORE like some kind of tranny hooker, Sasha Fierce and Beyoncé are virtually indistinguishable. They both do the same kind of fat-ass-chunk-shaking dance moves, they both dress like they're on their way to a black-tie leotard formal with the upper crust spice magnates from Dune, and they both sing the same songs about how dumping assholes and buying your own jewelry are the hallmarks of female empowerment. Would Beyoncé/Sasha Fierce please proceed to get Aretha Franklin fat like LL Cool Jew has predicted she will, and stop bothering us with her wack repackaging of the same old bullshit.
Besides, there's only one R&B superstar who can pull off an alter-ego, and that's only in the context of a musical soap opera about adultery, gay preachers, elderly neighbors with erectile dysfunction, midget-cuckolded highway patrolmen, lesbian diner employees, and mysterious packages. In other words, the only person with the combined musical and acting chops to effect such a feat is none other than the legendary and incomparable ROBERT SYLVESTER KELLY playing the Beretta-wielding Chicagoan Sylvester.
The 2008 Seahawks
The Seachickens are 2-9, and about to get a festive Thanksgiving ass-raping from Tony Romo and T.O. to commemorate Mike Holmgren's final season as coach. I don't think I need to elaborate further.
The 2008 Dallas Cowboys, Pittsburgh Steelers, New England Patriots, and Indianapolis Colts
I would hope that if my team is sucking stank Sasha Fierce balls, at least the teams I loathe would be too. Despite occasional flashes of glee I felt when I thought Tony Romo was out tampon shopping with Jessica Simpson for the season, or I realized that Ben Roethlisberger's abilities are embarrassingly overrated, or Tom Brady went down crying like a bitch in week 1, or Peyton Manning was going to be permanently overshadowed by his younger brother Eli "Fetal Alcohol Syndrome" Manning, these assholes all seem to perservere. All are still in the running for their divisions (except maybe the Colts, but they've still got a very good shot at a wild card slot), and all are still existing solely to piss me off and perturb me. Oh, and did I mention the Cowboys are playing the Seahawks on Thanksgiving? I can only pray that Jessica Simpson shows up at the game and shines her Cowboys-disrupting energy full force on Texas Stadium during the game.
Now I have to go to work, but keep checking back. I am sure that all day I'm going to be thinking of stuff I'm NOT thankful for, so I'll update this list through the next couple days. In the meantime, if you are as depressed as I am with the state of the world today, I urge you to make like me and eat the pain away. Happy Unthanksgiving!
Labels: assholes, gluttony, NFL football, politics, pro-apocalyptic zeitgeist, rap, Robert Sylvester Kelly, Seahawks
Monday, November 03, 2008
Me llamo es Sarah Palin
Just in time for the election, I've got what you were all undoubtedly waiting with bated breath all weekend to see: my Sarah Palin costume. As promised, I did dress up as Sarah Palin in a flag bikini. The bikini arrived at work just in time on Friday morning, and I eagerly tore open the package to shout "USA! U! S! A!" at my coworkers while modeling it over my clothes. Unfortunately, I realized that it wasn't quite the same stars-and-stripes design I expected. In fact, upon closer inspection, I realized with horror that the online flag bikini store fucked up my order and sent me a Puerto Rican flag bikini by mistake. Luckily, that turned out even better, because as numerous people at the party I attended pointed out, Sarah Palin probably thinks she can see Puerto Rico from Alaska. The bikini goes great with the giant Obama sign in the background.
Also as promised, I dressed my morbidly obese Pug Chingy! up as Sarah Palin's infant son Trig. Several people commented that it was one of the most offensive things anyone had ever seen, but nonetheless everyone laughed at it. Chingy! quickly proved his disdain for the extra large (yet still too small) Pull-Ups I put on him and in his typical fashion, proved to be far more ill-behaved and uncooperative than I've ever seen Trig Palin.
Another very un-Palin-esque behavior of Chingy!'s involved him going rogue and showing his undying love for pork barrel spending. Pork Barrel Spending is one of Chingy!'s very favorite Pugsitters, and she promptly removed the barrel and spent the evening cuddling with him and whispering sweet CHONGAYs into his stank, tarry little ears.
I'd show more pictures, but unfortunately our party host GayMan got very drunk (when I left the party at like 3 a.m., he had exhausted all the beer in the fridge and was resorting to Mike's Hard Lemonade). Despite the fact that he is a professional photographer, at this point all of his photos got awfully blurry. Additionally, you can tell that despite his name, GayMan is as hetero as they come. For evidence, take this photograph of me talking to my friend Moss, who dressed as what Governor Palin would classify as an Inuit.
Nice titty picture, GayMan. I should know; I am a connoisseur.
Anyway, CHONGAY CHONG, Sarah and Trig Palin costume! Oh, and if anyone needs a gently used Puerto Rican flag bikini, holler at your Alaskan governor.
Labels: alcoholism, CHONGAY CHONG, hilarious shit, intentional buffoonery, politics, spooktiness
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Sweet sobaka
I think Vladimir Putin is basically a total dipshit. For one thing, no matter how many absurd I-wish-I-was-Ernest-Hemingway pictures he takes of himself fly fishing, he seems like the kind of dude who would be in a movie from the 80s as some sort of evil, capitalism-decrying Communist party stalwart who couldn't be trusted and whose sole reason for existing is to wipe America off the map. Indeed, since the officer and a hot piece John McCain cannot say a sentence about Putin without including the words "KGB" or "apparatchik," that's obviously exactly what he is even though he appears different than the red-faced blusterers of Russian rulers past. He may not look like a giant vodka-swilling bear in a fur hat, and he might like to show off his skinny topless chest doing macho outdoorsy stuff, and he may have appointed a tiny Deep Purple-loving Ukrainian-independence suppressing lawyer as his successor, but that doesn't mean he's somehow different from any other asshole pinko motherfucker who would invade Colorado via fleets of innocent-looking Aeroflot jets and declare war on Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen, C. Thomas Howell, Jennifer Grey, and Lea Thompson.
However, I have now realized that Putin has one redeeming quality. While perusing the news stories from the other inferior excuses for countries that populate the world, I came across an article describing how Putin loves his doggy so much that he made her a special GPS tracker so she'll never get lost. Okay, the article just said he made her a GPS tracker and Putin disputed with his deputy prime minister whether or not his sweet dogger Koni liked the fact that "her free life is over," but still...I assume he outfitted his dog with a satellite tracker to keep Koni from getting lost and ending up in Siberia or something because he would be devastated by her absence.
A guy with a precious puppy like Koni here can't be completely evil. I'm cool with Putin from now on so long as he always appears in pictures with this doggity sweetness. In fact, just let Koni take over for Putin. If that bitch were calling the shots, Putin would have plenty of free time to pose for stomach-churning topless macho propaganda photos and everyone would want to get all diplomatic with Russia because Koni is SO FUCKING CUTE! The world would win. Koni for commisar!
Labels: assholes, doggity style, international intrigue, politics
Friday, October 17, 2008
A dangling C.H.U.D.
I've gotten a couple e-mails regarding a certain SUPER hot photo from the master debate the other evening. It seems that despite the widespread circulation of this shot on the internets, my mom, GayMan, and a couple of random Razzyphiles just had to e-mail me to make sure it didn't escape my notice that the officer and a hot piece known as Senator John McCain (R-AZ) looked like he was being transmogrified into one of the creatures dwelling in the fell city of Minas Morgul after catching a glimpse of old Pointy Pelvis Obama's ass:
I don't know how I missed McCain doing this live, because I certainly watched the debate. It may have something to do with the fact that I watched it at a bar and had already knocked back a Dos Equis or fifty. I also was thrown off because during the debate there had been a lot of cheering for McCain, and I thought maybe I was in good company. Then, however, when the cheering continued after the debate I realized that everyone was getting excited about the Phillies game on one of the other bar TVs, and as usual I was the only McCainiac around. In any event, I had other things on my mind than spotting fleeting moments when McCain apparently gave in–if only for a moment–to his insatiable craving for smug, condescending Illinois senator flesh. I wish I had seen it, though, because I've been saying for a long time that we need a C.H.U.D. in the White House. For one thing, a cannibalistic, possibly undead president would strike a lot more fear into the hearts of evildoers everywhere than a brainy law professor. For another, I'd like to see those socialist homos in Europe complain about our warmongering ways while facing the threat of being ravenously devoured by our fearless leader for their gall. My election preference continues to be validated by Senator McCain's total awesomeness. JOHN! MC! CAIN! JOHN! MC! CAIN!
*RAZZY Edit: No sooner did I publish this than I was asked, "What the f is a C.H.U.D.?" Apparently I am the only one around here with any appreciation for the cinematic masterpieces of the 1980s. C.H.U.D. is a movie about some John McCain-looking things with glowing eyes that live under New York City in the abandoned subway tunnels and occasionally venture up from their subterranean digs to eat hot 80s chicks with spiral perms. It's a really realistic movie, because I can't tell you how many narrow escapes I have made from hungry C.H.U.D.s since moving to New York six years ago. Take a gander at the awesome trailer for C.H.U.D. and I guarantee that not only will you IMMEDIATELY rush to Blockbuster and rent it, you will see my reasoning that a C.H.U.D. would make a better president than a community organizer. TRUST.
Labels: Barack Obama, John McCain, movies, oh the horror, politics
Thursday, October 16, 2008
To all the Joe Sixpacks I've fucked before...
Last night when I was watching officer and a hot piece Senator John McCain debate old Pointy Pelvis Obama, I have to admit that I got a little tired of hearing about "Joe the Plumber" and his fate. Yeah, yeah, I get it...Obama's a pinko who hangs out with ex-terrorist professors and is in bed with the Trotskyite community organizations my BFF LL Cool Jew used to work for. In fact, I'm getting a little tired of hearing about all these "Joe" characters. The McCain campaign needs to quit naming the average hardworking American "Joe" because it's getting old.
I know about the kind of (blue collar PWT) American McCain is referring to, because I grew up surrounded by Joe Sixpacks and Joe the Plumber, except none of them were named Joe. There's my uncle Don the Boeing machinist, my dad Rick the schoolteacher and former Teamster/dairyman/truck driver, my uncle Beau the Frito Lay deliveryman, my uncle Merle the carpenter, my uncle Gene the mental hospital handyman, my cousin Josh the county sheriff, my uncle John the shipping clerk, my cousin Kyle the drug addict/petty criminal, and so forth. Then, when I grew up and returned to my humble county of origin after college, I encountered plenty more Joe Six- Twelve- 24-Packs in the greater Tacoma-Puyallup non-metropolitan area. Among others, I fucked Chris the roof shingler, Carson the Alaska tour guide and metalworker, Don the piercing and tattoo apprentice, L.J. the meth dealer (my discovery of his particular small business venture marked the end of our affair), and Brent the day laborer. None of these guys, who I presume are the people McCain and Palin are talking to and about, are named "Joe."
Furthermore, the majority of these guys probably don't vote, and many of them probably don't pay taxes, much less care about tax breaks. Mike the proud deadbeat dad/drywall hanger was way more interested in fucking me up the ass while we watched WWE Smack Down (I was REALLY drunk) than he probably ever would be about the middle class share of the tax burden. Furthermore, since he actually bragged that he couldn't be bothered paying his child support, I doubt he was on top of getting anything out to the IRS. When Nick the landscaper came over and got shitfaced with me on two $7 bottles of wine that he pronounced "classy" prior to banging me to the point of vomiting said wine into my hand as I ran to the bathroom (that was obviously the classiest part), I sincerely doubt that he was concerned about the merits of trickle-down versus trickle-up economics. In fact, his main concern after I gargled the regurgitated cheap merlot out of my mouth and we resumed chafing rug burns into my ass was that my dog Caesar ate his entire bag of weed while we were screwing on my living room floor.
These "Joe Sixpacks" aren't even watching the debate to hear the message Senator McCain is trying to say to them and on their behalf. They probably don't even know there's a debate going on. To give you an idea of their general awareness of the greater world, Jeff the airplane mechanic, a dude who was trying to court me in a clumsy and ineffective way, asked if I'd ever heard of Thai food. Not if I'd ever tried Thai food or if I liked Thai food, but if I'd ever HEARD of it at all. I told him that I heard rumors of a mysterious land in southeast Asia called Thailand, and that they have food there. He completely missed my sarcasm and thought this represented an opportunity to introduce me to rare culinary treats like coconut curry and spring rolls. I decided that he was too dumb and annoying to continue banging, and dumped him before he could make a big show about putting me face to face with an exotic delicacy like a plate of fucking pad thai, and he commenced stalking me all over Tacoma, which culminated in him molesting me at a bar and my slapping him and getting him thrown out. Wherever Jeff the airplane mechanic is now, I have no doubt that his taste for mee krob comprises his sole interest in foreign policy, and he could give a shit less what ACORN does or what the Bush tax cuts are or what either candidate thinks about incorporating clean coal technology into their energy plans. Like most of the Joe Sixpacks I know, he's probably more interested in the Seahawks injury report than overhauling the tax code. I would wager that his sole expertise on the matter of taxes is that if you drive to the Puyallup reservation, you don't have to pay them on your cigarettes or chaw.
John McCain needs to quit talking to Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber and whoever else. He needs to start talking to his other constituencies. For example, I would like to hear him say something about how he's going to make sure Razzy the Impoverished Skankified Microbiology Graduate Student won't have any problem whatsoever getting an insanely high-paying job when she graduates, so that she can continue to look snobbishly down at all the Joe Sixpacks she bones whenever she's home in the P-N-Dub. They obviously need a fourth debate where John McCain can address this small but critical part of the American voting public, because these Joes have been hogging all the attention.
Labels: John McCain, P-N-Dub, politics, PWT, sex, sluts
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Rock the SNORE
I was just having lunch ("lunch"=Sugarfree Red Bull covertly slugged down in lab) and checking my Facebook page. I noticed that one of my Facebook friends, who works in Washington, DC registering voters or something political and civic dutiful like that, had changed her status message to "ready to rock the vote with Talib and Solange. FREE concert in Philly. 3 PM. Come on out!"
Wait, this concert is being headlined by Talib Kweli and Solange? Not to trash this friend's job or anything, but if this is the best Rock the Vote can do to lure young voters, it's hardly surprising that so many people are apathetic at best about participating in the democratic process. I would imagine that half of you reading this are scratching your heads and saying, "Uh, who are Talib Kweli and Solange?"
Talib Kweli is probably best known for being in the group Black Star with Mos Def. He's one of those socially conscious rappers who spends way more time bitching about poverty and racism and other serious stuff rather than bragging about his awesomeness, like popping bottles and models or driving ridiculous customized luxury cars or blowing $15 million in 1 week or his prowess as a make-believe cocaine trafficker.
See, Talib Kweli looks like he's always about to get mad when you crack a joke and say "I don't know how you can laugh when there are innocent men dying of AIDS in prison!" or something similarly sobering and unpleasant. He's not talking about popping champagne like he just won a championship game or how he went from shitting in a cell to shitting on a jet or about all his cars "automative automatic." I guess listening to him whine about society might get you all fired up to vote, but it's not like his concert is a great fucking time.
See, Talib Kweli looks like he's always about to get mad when you crack a joke and say "I don't know how you can laugh when there are innocent men dying of AIDS in prison!" or something similarly sobering and unpleasant. He's not talking about popping champagne like he just won a championship game or how he went from shitting in a cell to shitting on a jet or about all his cars "automative automatic." I guess listening to him whine about society might get you all fired up to vote, but it's not like his concert is a great fucking time.
Solange is even worse. She is best known for being Beyoncé's younger, uglier, more trans-tastic sister.
I can't think of a time when I've ever heard Solange emit a single musical note. Most of the time she's skulking after her sister's fat ass down a red carpet at some cut-rate awards show (ie: the Teen Choice Awards) in an outfit that looks like a French maid's feather duster bred with a disco ball. Usually you can also almost see the mustache she just waxed off before throwing on her tacky House of Dereon Barbie cocktail dress and mugging for the camera in a pathetic attempt to be noticed. The only kind of vote she inspires me to cast is one AGAINST seeing Solange out in public.
I can't think of a time when I've ever heard Solange emit a single musical note. Most of the time she's skulking after her sister's fat ass down a red carpet at some cut-rate awards show (ie: the Teen Choice Awards) in an outfit that looks like a French maid's feather duster bred with a disco ball. Usually you can also almost see the mustache she just waxed off before throwing on her tacky House of Dereon Barbie cocktail dress and mugging for the camera in a pathetic attempt to be noticed. The only kind of vote she inspires me to cast is one AGAINST seeing Solange out in public.
I don't care if this concert is free. Between Solange's annoying desperate bids for fame and Talib Kweli's humorless social commentary, free is still too pricey. You'd have to pay me to go, because this lineup makes me wish I was disenfranchised.
Labels: media whores, politics, ranting, rap, sluts
Thursday, September 11, 2008
HAPPY 9/11 EVERYBODY!!!!
Another 9/11 has come already?! Shit, and I forgot to hang stockings for Osama Bin Laden to fill with improvised explosive devices and box cutters when he drops down my chimney. Oh wait, wrong holiday. Oops.
Anyway, I tried to cobble together a festive 9/11 card for you all, and figured that there's not much that says "Fuck you, Al Qaeda!" than a reference to the current orgy of freedom known as ELECTION '08!!! Like all elections, this one is so far nothing but classy and honorable, with both candidates saying lovely things about each other. The latest demonstration of maturity and graciousness has been a debate over whether one candidate was just using an expression, or derisively calling the opposing team's vice presidential candidate a pig. I'm thinking it's probably just an expression, because if Obama REALLY wanted to insult Sarah Palin by comparing her to an animal, I can think of a worse one. So can LL Cool Jew, who Gchatted me this morning and wryly observed, "You can put lipstick on a pug, but it's still a pug."
Thus, in the spirit of the sophisticated American democratic process embodied by the current presidential race, Chingy! got all gussied up real faincy-like to wish you a blessed and joyous 9/11.
CHONGAY CHONG, 9/11! USA! U!S!A! U! S! A!
Labels: CHONGAY CHONG, doggity style, intentional buffoonery, politics, terror, United States of Asskickery
Friday, September 05, 2008
Break out the energy policy reggaeton
A bunch of crybaby bleeding heart musicians have been serving the McCain-Palin headquarters with a lot of cease-and-desist orders regarding the campaign's song selections. Van Halen pitched a fit about McCain using former Crystal Pepsi theme song "Right Now," and now the ladies of Heart don't want Sarah Palin using "Barracuda." While Van Halen actually did my boy John Sidney McHotness a big favor by preventing him from torturing us with Sammy Hagar's cheesetastic shitshow of a song, it's really too bad the Wilson sisters aren't Republicans. "Barracuda" is a totally kick-ass song.
Anyway, now my officer and a hot piece and the lipstick-wearing pitbull are without music to play at their propaganda rallies, and it looks like they won't be able to jam to anything with copyrights owned by Obamaniacs. Somehow, McCain and Palin will have to inspire their constituents without the invigorating melodies of Bruce Springsteen, the Dixie Chicks, or Scarlett Johansson's Tom Waits covers. They can kiss John Mellencamp's "Small Town" goodbye, as well as anything by Young Jeezy (although it's doubtful McCain would want to walk onstage to anecdotal tales about Jeezy DeNiro/Snowman Pacino customizing various luxury cars, evading law enforcement agents through judicious use of illegal machine guns, and the trials and tribulations of grinding at the trap anyway). Christ, even Toby Fucking Keith is supporting Obama! So much for lighting up the terrorists like the Fourth of July. The McCain-Palin campaign is going to have to go for something out of the GOP jukebox.
Unfortunately, that's pretty slim pickings. I can't see the future executive branch of the American government getting to the White House by heralding their appearance with Jessica Simpson's cover of "These Boots are Made for Walkin'" or Heidi Montag's...whatever the hell Heidi sings when she's not creating drama with Lauren Conrad. Therefore, from what I can tell, there's only one logical option: reggaeton singer and fervent McCain supporter Daddy Yankee.
If McCain's constituents can get past the frenetic dance beats that characterize the average Daddy Yankee song, the español-hablaing among McCain's campaign staff might actually notice that many of his themes are extremely relevant. For example:
Though the Mad Max-meets-El Rápido y El Furioso video might mislead you to think this song is about some sort of guerilla army of video hoochies taking on a paramilitary force during some kind of tricked-out motorcycle race, "Gasolina" is really about the McCain-Palin energy policy! "Dame más gasolina!" definitely has a place as a catchphrase in this campaign. So what if (according to some message board on the always reliable internets, anyway) "gasolina" is actually Puerto Rican slang for semen? I guarantee that neither McCain or Palin know that. Get some Daddy Yankee to precede those hot-ass speeches they're giving!
Though the Mad Max-meets-El Rápido y El Furioso video might mislead you to think this song is about some sort of guerilla army of video hoochies taking on a paramilitary force during some kind of tricked-out motorcycle race, "Gasolina" is really about the McCain-Palin energy policy! "Dame más gasolina!" definitely has a place as a catchphrase in this campaign. So what if (according to some message board on the always reliable internets, anyway) "gasolina" is actually Puerto Rican slang for semen? I guarantee that neither McCain or Palin know that. Get some Daddy Yankee to precede those hot-ass speeches they're giving!
Labels: hot chicks, hot dudes, John McCain, politics, Young Jeezy
Thursday, July 24, 2008
CRIBS: Senator John McCain (R-AZ)
While Barack Obama is busy feigning a profound sense of faith at the Wailing Wall, I'm glad to see that the officer and a hot piece Senator John McCain (R-AZ) is keeping things fun on his website. I went there because I read some article about how Obama gear is outselling McCain gear (Obama's designers are clearly more savvy, since he even sells sleepwear called "Ojamas") like crazy, and I wanted to do my part to even the score by picking up a slutty McCain tank top, a McCain beer cooler, or a camouflage "Sportsmen for McCain" hunting cap.
However, I was sidetracked from my shopping by an exhortation to take an "exclusive" tour of the Straight Talk Express. The STE is probably my favorite campaign gimmick of all time, and while I frequently tell people I'm firmly entrenched in my berth aboard the Straight Talk Express, I've always been curious to know what it looks like in reality. I always pictured it as a cross between Animal House and the White House "Situation Room," complete with a lot of fancy satellite feeds, a pool table, terrorist-tracking maps, a fridge stocked with Anheuser-Busch products courtesy of Cindy McCain, an inflatable donkey for stress relief when the democrats are especially irksome, some random military guys, and a dartboard with Barack Obama's face on it.
Well, it turns out the STE isn't quite that much fun, but I nonetheless appreciated the tour:
While the fridge has coffee fixings and Diet Coke rather than a full assortment of brew dogs and there were more random BlackBerries and microphones around than frathouse decor or blow-up asses, I still have to give the McCain campaign props for this tour. I don't know why I'm surprised that McCain knows about "Cribs" since he supposedly doesn't miss an episode of "The Hills" and is thus a devout MTV viewer. I love that he doesn't know how to use the internets, but he watches MTV! He's apparently so down with it that he even knows about the traditional epilogue where the subject of the "Cribs" at hand boots the cameras out of their domicile, as the "Director of Advances" (whatever that means) hosting the tour ushers the viewer off the Straight Talk Express with "No, seriously, go before I call the Secret Service." Fucking awesome.Labels: I LOVE IT, internet domination, John McCain, politics
Daily Douchebag: former Senator John Edwards
DOB: June 10, 1953
Occupation: world-class hypocrite
Hometown: Seneca, South Carolina
Current residence: Most recently, it was the Beverly Hilton fleeing from National Enquirer reporters
Douchebaggery: I always thought John Edwards was a putz. He comes across as a real salesman, which means I automatically don't trust him one bit. Edwards just cracks that "aw, shucks" Southern boy smile of his and presumes it's disarming enough to distract people from what he is actually saying, and whether it is the truth or a lie. I don't like liars, and I especially don't like liars who think they're so fucking charming they get a pass on being dishonest. I derive more than a little schadenfreude when they get their comeuppance for being so.
Monday night, the National Enquirer was tipped off that Edwards was visiting his mistress and love child at the Beverly Hilton. Granted, it hasn't been proven that this is Edwards's mistress and love child, and in fact one of his campaign staffers took the paternity bullet for him when the Enquirer first reported the story last year, but his behavior certainly seems to suggest that something in the milk ain't clean. According to the story, Edwards showed up at the Beverly Hilton, avoided the lobby, and took a side staircase to his supposed mistress's room. Then, at 2:40 in the morning, he snuck out an elevator into the basement, where to his dismay, he was confronted by several reporters. He ran to the lobby, then ran back to the basement after he spotted a photographer, and eventually locked himself in a men's room until hotel security could escort him off the premises. There could be many explanations for this behavior, but none of them equate to a man who is just making an innocent to a female friend and her new baby...surreptitiously...in the middle of the night...with a great fear of the press finding out. It sounds to me a lot more like he got caught fucking his side broad and visiting his bastard than making a friendly social call.
I don't particularly care who John Edwards is hitting on the side. I certainly can't speak from a position of moral authority, considering I have banged plenty of dudes who were in relationships with other people. I once witnessed one of my paramours calling his girlfriend–at home with their baby–to tell her he was working late (until 2 a.m.) from a seedy motel right before he fucked me cross-eyed. Another time, one of my special girlfriends had a brief phone discussion about paying household bills with her live-in fiancé and explaining that she was too drunk to drive home while I ate her pussy. Yet another time I ran into this guy at a breakfast joint in Tacoma and met his lovely girlfriend of five years, a few days after he gave me a pearl necklace (not the jewelry) and a hideous rug burn on my ass from the vigorous dicking he delivered on my living room floor. My personal position on these people (unless they are dating one of my friends, in which case I won't touch it) is that they are responsible for their own affairs and the cheating aspect of fucking me is their business. Adultery is as old as the institution of marriage itself, and is hardly some new horrible offense that shocks everyone. However, when a public political figure is constantly invoking the image of his loyal, cancer-ridden wife and brood of children as evidence of his upstanding character, I take issue with his hypocrisy.
Even if you are a politician and thus obliged to cater to the people who actually think politicians aren't all a bunch of corrupt, lying assholes, don't spend all your time touting your familial devotion if you are busy impregnating other bitches during your down time. I don't presume to tell people how to wipe their ass, since I already know mine is just as shitty as everyone else's. John Edwards should have just stuck to telling everyone how he has triumphed for the little people via his mastery of civil torts and cut the "family man who stands by his wife while she gets her tits cut off" schtick. At least he probably wasn't impregnating opposing counsel in secret, and thus could have escaped exposure as the duplicitous bullshitter he truly is.
Labels: assholes, comeuppance, Daily Douchebag, family matters, media whores, politics, retard rage, scathing indictments
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Daily Douchebag: the New York Times
Name: the New York Times
DOB: September 18, 1851
Occupation: deciding which news is fit to print
Hometown: One Times Square, New York, New York
Current residence: 620 8th Ave, New York, New York
Douchebaggery: If you watch cable news at all, you probably saw that yesterday Matt Drudge stirred up all the pundits by publishing a story about how the Times rejected an op-ed essay by the officer and a hot piece Senator John McCain that responded to a piece by Senator Barack Obama entitled "My Plan for Iraq." David Shipley, editor of the Times Op-Ed page, apparently rejected it on grounds that he would rather have a piece that "mirrors" what Obama had to say.
While having edited an op-ed page myself (for the august Smith College Sophian), I understand that sometimes there is a process involving the author of an editorial piece in which the piece is changed a bit from its original form, I can't imagine how the Times expects McCain to write something "mirroring" Obama's plan. A fundamental difference between the two candidates–and the reason I am voting for John McCain–is their position on the Iraq War, and their plan on how to end it. McCain favors what I think is a more rational approach, a withdrawal based on conditions in Iraq as determined by our military leaders and the Iraqi government, versus the timetable Obama has revealed as his grand plan. While McCain states quite explicitly in his article that he expects troops to be out of Iraq by the end of his first term as president (rather than the "hundred years" Obamaphiles have been crowing about every time I tell ANYONE that I'm voting for John McCain), he plans to do this only after achieving a stabilized Iraq.
I don't like the Iraq War, and I did not support President Bush's decision to start it–thus sacrificing the lives of thousands of our brave troops and many more Iraqis–based on flawed intelligence and a poorly disguised desire for oil. However, we are up to our freedom-loving tits in it, and I think that as much as we'd all like to be like Obama and say, "much later, Iraq," we ought to finish what we started and stick it out until we establish some kind of lasting stability there. Or in the words of Senator McCain, "any draw-downs must be based on a realistic assessment of conditions on the ground, not on an artificial timetable created for domestic political reasons...I find it ironic that he (Obama) is emulating the worst mistake of the Bush Administration by waving the 'Mission Accomplished' banner prematurely."
Shipley stated that he would reconsider an editorial by McCain so long as it "would articulate, in concrete terms, how Senator McCain defines victory in Iraq." Considering McCain's piece already defined several goals concerning the Iraq military, reductions in sectarian violence, and his specific counterinsurgency strategy, as well as outlined what he considered benchmarks of failure in Iraq, Shipley's demand sounds a lot less like constructive editorial criticism and a lot more like they are more interested in presenting Obama's view than McCain's. This is hardly a surprise considering that the Times has been on Obama's jock since he leapt on the national stage at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, but it is disappointing. Whatever bias the Times may have, it's absurd and irresponsible for them to refuse to publish one major party candidate's views on a central issue of the upcoming presidential election until he comes up with a policy that "mirrors" their preference. I consider both Obama's and McCain's plans regarding the Iraq War to be "fit to print," and it shows a reprehensible disregard for fairness or equity to suggest that one's are more fit than the other's.
Granted, I always knew the Times was populated primarily by a bunch of insufferably arrogant snobs who generally think they know best, but I at least thought they had some fucking integrity. As it turns out, they aren't any better than FOX News when it comes to designing coverage that suits their particular bias. I've never been more glad to say that I prefer to read the trashy-ass Post.
Labels: Barack Obama, Daily Douchebag, John McCain, politics, ranting, retard rage, scathing indictments
Monday, June 16, 2008
Continue the smears
LL Cool Jew pointed out last week that Barack Obama has a site dedicated to correcting all the idiotic lies that "proven GOP sleazemeisters" in the media are making up about him entitled "Fight the Smears."
This site refutes claims that ignorant, racist morons believe about Barack Obama, like he is supposedly Muslim, is secretly not American, doesn't say the Pledge of Allegiance, Michelle Obama is racist, and other absurd nonsense like that.
Barack Obama got vocal cord implants which is why he sounds like a motivational speaker
I and the R. Kelly defense team told you that, per the now-infamous "Shaggy Defense," it wasn't Kells. You caught him on the counter? It wasn't Kells. You saw him bangin' on the sofa? It wasn't Kells. He even hit it in the shower? It wasn't Kells...it was BARACK OBAMA! Case closed!
This is fun and I could continue this all day, but I have to get to lab. Luckily, there's enough dumbasses out there to ensure that my new totally made-up charges will be discussed on cable news for the next week. I can just see the pundits on FOX News now, discussing how "a blogger charges that Obama may be the man in the R. Kelly sex tape" or "questions have come up on the blogosphere about Michelle Obama's possible adulterous leanings" or whatever. God bless the stupidity of the average American, because I'm going to be swimming in traffic and laughing all the way to the damn bank. I hope for change in my pocketses, and that's exactly what Barack Obama is going to give to me. Thank you, Senator Obama!
This site refutes claims that ignorant, racist morons believe about Barack Obama, like he is supposedly Muslim, is secretly not American, doesn't say the Pledge of Allegiance, Michelle Obama is racist, and other absurd nonsense like that.
LL Cool Jew: dude
LL Cool Jew: THIS
LL Cool Jew: is amazing
LL Cool Jew: http://my.barackobama.com/page/content/fightthesmearshome/
LL Cool Jew: i mean
LL Cool Jew: wow
Razzy: people are so dumb
LL Cool Jew: i bet my relatives are the ones saying this shit
LL Cool Jew: "Proven GOP sleazemeister "
Razzy: "Senator Obama was sworn in with a Koran"
Razzy: "Barack Obama won't say the pledge of allegiance"
LL Cool Jew: dude i'm totz looking at senator obama's birth certificate
LL Cool Jew: maybe we can open a credit card account in his name?
Razzy: YES!
Razzy: then i can go to wmania's wedding!
Razzy: courtesy of losing presidential candidate barack obama!
LL Cool Jew: damn. script too small.
Razzy: no SSN either
Razzy: :(
LL Cool Jew: View video of Barack leading The Pledge of Allegiance in the United States Senate
LL Cool Jew: is this boy scouts????
LL Cool Jew: Barack Obama Loves His Flag and His Country
Razzy: well i can't see him putting his hand over his heart!
Razzy: maybe i should insinuate on my website that he hates freedom and America
Razzy: and then Obama's site can call me a "proven GOP sleazemeister"
Razzy: and i'll get lots of traffic and thus money!
Yes, the anti-Obama smear campaign and its acceptance by the legions of idiots who will believe anything so long as it caters to their latent bigoted paranoia sounds to me like KA-CHING! Seriously, joining the ranks of "proven GOP sleazemeisters" is a golden opportunity to pick up some unique hits! GOP sleazemeisters do well these days, and as am I both voting for the hotness known as Senator John McCain (R-AZ) and I am a total breast-baring skank, I think I fit the bill for the titles of both "GOP" and "sleazemeister." So, without further ado, I'm going to fight Senator Barack Obama's efforts to clear his good name by making up even more ridiculous bullshit.
Barack Obama has a pointy pelvis and fucking him is really uncomfortable.
LL Cool Jew noted that this isn't necessarily a smear, because it's "probz true." I can assert that it is, because for whatever reason, tall, skinny guys usually have huge dicks and I've fucked a lot of them. However, that impressive weiner comes with a price: namely, afterward you feel like someone drilled holes into your hip sockets. Obama's got that going on for sure.
Barack Obama got vocal cord implants which is why he sounds like a motivational speaker
Every time someone tells me that Barack Obama is so inspirational, I just roll my eyes because his voice drives me nuts. However, the Obamaniacs think that he's the Pied Piper of Stump Speeches, so something's going on there. With the way he used to smoke like an Industrial Revolution-era textile mill, his real voice probably sounds like psychic Sylvia Browne from "The Montel Williams Show." In fact, check out Sylvia predicting political and economic happenings in 2007...I wonder if she actually IS Barack Obama in disguise without his vocal modifiers and with a bitchin' set of gel tips:
Michelle Obama loves white people...on the side
As long as it's cool for the GOP sleazemeisters to say that Michelle Obama gives speeches involving the term "whitey," we might as well just go the extra mile and say that she's fucking white people as well as disparaging them. Note the come-hither look she's throwing at Stephen Colbert. They're totally doing it.
A video exists of Michelle Obama having sex with Ray-J
LL Cool Jew came up with this one, as although she isn't a "GOP sleazemeister," she's even worse: an embittered Hillary supporter! After hearing T-Pain admit that "the man is swangin'" with regard to Ray-J's equipment, Michelle Obama answered affirmatively to his "Sexy Can I?" query. Ray-J likes those old cougars, anyway. Frankly, Michelle Obama is an upgrade from his previous MILF Whitney Houston. It's only a matter of time before Vivid releases "Michelle Obama Superstar" to the internets.
LL Cool Jew came up with this one, as although she isn't a "GOP sleazemeister," she's even worse: an embittered Hillary supporter! After hearing T-Pain admit that "the man is swangin'" with regard to Ray-J's equipment, Michelle Obama answered affirmatively to his "Sexy Can I?" query. Ray-J likes those old cougars, anyway. Frankly, Michelle Obama is an upgrade from his previous MILF Whitney Houston. It's only a matter of time before Vivid releases "Michelle Obama Superstar" to the internets.
There is a tape of Barack Obama asking anyone if they'll run to the deli and grab him a sandwich. The deli happens to be halal.
Duh, Obama is MUSLIM! Okay, maybe he's a fake-me-out Muslim, sort of like Ice Cube getting excited for his mama cooking the breakfast with no hog but otherwise observing no Islamic customs, but I think we all know what it means to eat at a halal deli...it means you're Muslim! And we all know that means "terrorist"! Oh crap, I ate an egg-and-cheese sandwich from my neighborhood halal deli the other day...fuck. Nevermind.
Duh, Obama is MUSLIM! Okay, maybe he's a fake-me-out Muslim, sort of like Ice Cube getting excited for his mama cooking the breakfast with no hog but otherwise observing no Islamic customs, but I think we all know what it means to eat at a halal deli...it means you're Muslim! And we all know that means "terrorist"! Oh crap, I ate an egg-and-cheese sandwich from my neighborhood halal deli the other day...fuck. Nevermind.
Barack Obama fucked Gina Gershon.
And who wants a President content with Bill Clinton's sloppy seconds? NOT ME, even if Gina Gershon is the greatest portrayer of lipstick lesbians in Hollywood history and star of two of Smith College's favorite movies ever, Bound and Showgirls. Speaking of Showgirls, I bet Nomy was way hotter in the sack than Barack.
And who wants a President content with Bill Clinton's sloppy seconds? NOT ME, even if Gina Gershon is the greatest portrayer of lipstick lesbians in Hollywood history and star of two of Smith College's favorite movies ever, Bound and Showgirls. Speaking of Showgirls, I bet Nomy was way hotter in the sack than Barack.
Barack Obama spends a lot of time playing "one-on-one" with his assistant Reggie Love.
Thanks to that dude who wrote that expose about "the DL," everyone knows what "poker night" is all about these days, and it's not just a spirited game of Texas Hold 'Em. They play "stud" and it's got nothing to do with cards. Since that's out now, the new down low lingo is "one on one." As in, one on one, I want to play that game tonight in the Daryl Hall/John Oates context. Translation: SODOMY!
Thanks to that dude who wrote that expose about "the DL," everyone knows what "poker night" is all about these days, and it's not just a spirited game of Texas Hold 'Em. They play "stud" and it's got nothing to do with cards. Since that's out now, the new down low lingo is "one on one." As in, one on one, I want to play that game tonight in the Daryl Hall/John Oates context. Translation: SODOMY!
Barack Obama claims his pets as dependents on his tax returns, which he won't release.
I don't even know if Barack Obama has pets, and supposedly he HAS released his tax returns, but trust that most of the folks reading the works of "proven GOP sleazemeisters" don't know that! And like they're going to read his tax returns anyway, except possibly to perpetrate some of the dumbest identity theft schemes in the history of crime.
I don't even know if Barack Obama has pets, and supposedly he HAS released his tax returns, but trust that most of the folks reading the works of "proven GOP sleazemeisters" don't know that! And like they're going to read his tax returns anyway, except possibly to perpetrate some of the dumbest identity theft schemes in the history of crime.
Barack Obama hates baseball, Bruce Springsteen, domestic lagers, and apple pie
Hey, if you'll believe that he agrees with his minister that AIDS and crack are government conspiracies and the traditional African outfit his grandfather gave him is evidence of his extreme Black Panther-style radicalism, you'll believe anything!
Hey, if you'll believe that he agrees with his minister that AIDS and crack are government conspiracies and the traditional African outfit his grandfather gave him is evidence of his extreme Black Panther-style radicalism, you'll believe anything!
Barack Obama loves belly dancing, Moroccan food, and reruns of "Sleeper Cell"
If you see this in someone's DVD collection, I think it's safe to go ahead and call "terrorist." In fact, if it weren't for my love of "Weeds" and "Dexter," I'd boycott Showtime altogether. Well, by "boycott" I mean I'd quit illegally downloading their shows, but same difference. Those "Sleeper Cell" terrorists are kind of hot, though. I think that guy on the right was in Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and I'd close my eyes, pretend he's American instead of an Islamist evildoer, and hit that hard. Oh, wait, he's Israeli in real life? Well, hell, that's still as un-American as BARACK HUSSEIN OSAMA!
If you see this in someone's DVD collection, I think it's safe to go ahead and call "terrorist." In fact, if it weren't for my love of "Weeds" and "Dexter," I'd boycott Showtime altogether. Well, by "boycott" I mean I'd quit illegally downloading their shows, but same difference. Those "Sleeper Cell" terrorists are kind of hot, though. I think that guy on the right was in Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and I'd close my eyes, pretend he's American instead of an Islamist evildoer, and hit that hard. Oh, wait, he's Israeli in real life? Well, hell, that's still as un-American as BARACK HUSSEIN OSAMA!
When Barack Obama saw Rachael Ray wearing Yasser Arafat's keffiyeh on TV, he went out and bought a shit-ton of Dunkin Donuts
Someone told me that after this commercial aired, Obama maxed out his credit card at Urban Outfitters buying keffiyehs for his entire staff because Rachael Ray's freedom-hating was so inspiring to him. He also started tossing around the idea of providing a lifetime supply of Munchkins for anyone who votes for his terror ticket. I'm glad his staff talked him down from that, because I might forsake John McCain if offered enough complimentary Dunkin Donuts swag. Their iced coffee is the chronic, even if it's the choice beverage of freedom-haters everywhere.
Someone told me that after this commercial aired, Obama maxed out his credit card at Urban Outfitters buying keffiyehs for his entire staff because Rachael Ray's freedom-hating was so inspiring to him. He also started tossing around the idea of providing a lifetime supply of Munchkins for anyone who votes for his terror ticket. I'm glad his staff talked him down from that, because I might forsake John McCain if offered enough complimentary Dunkin Donuts swag. Their iced coffee is the chronic, even if it's the choice beverage of freedom-haters everywhere.
Malia Obama will only play with Muslim Barbies
Not only does she play with Muslim Barbies, I bet she doesn't make all her Barbies lesbians like mine were (owing to a shortage of Ken dolls more than my latent girl-on-girl desires but ANYWAY...that's another story).
Not only does she play with Muslim Barbies, I bet she doesn't make all her Barbies lesbians like mine were (owing to a shortage of Ken dolls more than my latent girl-on-girl desires but ANYWAY...that's another story).
Barack Obama got the "Ba" added to his first name to make something hot-sounding like "Rack" sound more lame and terroristy, because those JIHADISTS HATE BOOBS AND WOMEN
He totally identified with Alfred Molina's wife-beating Iranian gynecologist from that movie, too. You know he did.
And speaking of misogyny, Barack Obama tried to get Reading Lolita in Tehran banned from public libraries because he thinks Iran rules.
And speaking of misogyny, Barack Obama tried to get Reading Lolita in Tehran banned from public libraries because he thinks Iran rules.
LL Cool Jew told me that he hates on The Kite Runner something serious, too.
In keeping with his Persophilia, Barack Obama reads Ahmadinejad's blog every day and believes the Holocaust is a myth. Moreover, he wants to reopen Buchenwald in Boca Raton, Florida.
In keeping with his Persophilia, Barack Obama reads Ahmadinejad's blog every day and believes the Holocaust is a myth. Moreover, he wants to reopen Buchenwald in Boca Raton, Florida.
I can't really fault him for the Ahmadinejad's blog-reading, because that shit is hilarious. However, the whole Holocaust myth business is pretty shady, as is that business about wanting to reopen concentration camps in the U.S. of A. LL Cool Jew told me that, and she's my resident Druish expert, so it's got to be one of the gravest true lies I'm advocating here. From there, it's just a short intellectual leap to OBAMA IS A NAZI! Yes, a terrorist Muslim Nazi! TRUST.
Barack Obama only ran for the U.S. Senate AFTER he was rejected by Hamas for suicide bombing detail.
Barack Obama only ran for the U.S. Senate AFTER he was rejected by Hamas for suicide bombing detail.
That's Obama in militant suicide bomber drag at his audition. He decided not to go the pretend woman route once he embarked on his career in U.S. politics, because all the people who will believe the bullshit I'm writing here now hate so hard on the gays. It was a wise move.
Barack Obama is actually the urinating man known only by the moniker "daddy" from the infamous sex tape that was the impetus for R. Kelly's child porn trial
Barack Obama is actually the urinating man known only by the moniker "daddy" from the infamous sex tape that was the impetus for R. Kelly's child porn trial
I and the R. Kelly defense team told you that, per the now-infamous "Shaggy Defense," it wasn't Kells. You caught him on the counter? It wasn't Kells. You saw him bangin' on the sofa? It wasn't Kells. He even hit it in the shower? It wasn't Kells...it was BARACK OBAMA! Case closed!
This is fun and I could continue this all day, but I have to get to lab. Luckily, there's enough dumbasses out there to ensure that my new totally made-up charges will be discussed on cable news for the next week. I can just see the pundits on FOX News now, discussing how "a blogger charges that Obama may be the man in the R. Kelly sex tape" or "questions have come up on the blogosphere about Michelle Obama's possible adulterous leanings" or whatever. God bless the stupidity of the average American, because I'm going to be swimming in traffic and laughing all the way to the damn bank. I hope for change in my pocketses, and that's exactly what Barack Obama is going to give to me. Thank you, Senator Obama!
Labels: Barack Obama, intentional buffoonery, LL Cool Jew, media whores, politics, ridiculous absurdity
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Daily Douchebag: John McCain's teleprompter
DOB: sometime in the last year or two
Occupation: fucking up straight talk
Hometown: probably China
Current residence: Kenner, Louisiana
Douchebaggery: So if you don't live under a rock or on The Island from "Lost," you know that last night, Barack Obama secured all the delegates needed for the Democratic nomination. I got home right in time to see him give yet another hope-change-blah blah blah speech to an arena full of Obamaniacs going crazy in Minnesota. He specifically did this in Minnesota, rather than in Montana where he won his final primary, because that's where the Republican convention is going to be and he wanted to stick it to McCain. That became apparent when his rousing oratory included a bunch of backhanded compliments dissing my man McCain, such as "I respect all of Senator McCain's accomplishments, even if he chooses to deny mine."
I expected McCain to return the favor and start talking trash about Obama. At first I thought this was going well, because I saw an excerpt of his speech in which he stressed his history of bipartisanship and his decades of tireless service to America. He seemed humble. I was like, "Any minute now, he's going to say something awesome about how he's going to own Obama come November." LL Cool Jew then texted me, "I'm sorry, mccains speech was pathetic." Uh oh, I thought.
So I watched more of the speech and realized that it certainly wasn't McCain's greatest moment in public speaking. He kept fucking up because he was having trouble with the teleprompter, which made him appear somewhat feeble and confused. Even Mort Kondracke from FOX News said he looked "old," and to have a crusty old geezer like Kondracke say that means he REALLY looked old. Like pop in a rerun of Lawrence Welk and break out the Werther's Originals old.
If you read the text of his speech, it's actually not bad at all. He immediately starts assuring the public that he is not running for George W. Bush's third term (if I believed he were, by the way, I would NOT vote for him, as while I love bush when it means "pussy," I HATE Bush when it means "inept, corrupt president"), and explains how severely he disagrees with the Bush administration's management of the war. This is one of the primary reasons I am voting for McCain. I hate the Iraq War (and I don't think ANYONE likes it or thinks it was a good idea), but now that we are there, our brave troops and the people of Iraq deserve to have it handled by someone who will look out for their best interests and the interests of the American people, rather than covering their asses politically and sinking deeper into the quagmire as Bush has done. He also points out that things would get even more fucked up if we just say, "Oops, sorry, our bad!" and blindly withdraw as Obama would like us to do.
However, thanks to the teleprompter dicking around McCain's game, he didn't get this out in a way that was stirring or galvanizing. Next to Obama's typical motivational speaker style, he looked like a shambling old man. I blame the teleprompter, because there's no way McCain would look that way if it weren't for technical difficulties. If McCain can handle five years at the Hanoi Hilton, he can handle a little speech about his own awesomeness. He can also certainly READ, so I doubt that his ability to "use" the teleprompter was an issue. It had to be some kind of teleprompter malfunction. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Therefore, I say a big "FUCK YOU" to the teleprompter and expect that those issues will be resolved now that McCain is gearing up to totally own Obama in the general election campaign. JOHN! MC! CAIN! JOHN! MC! CAIN!
Labels: an officer and a hot piece, computer incompetence, Daily Douchebag, John McCain, politics
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: President William Jefferson Clinton
DOB: August 19, 1946
Occupation: 42nd president of the United States of America; arrogant hot piece
Hometown: Hope, Arkansas
Current residence: Chappaqua, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I know that these days I'm all about McCain and being an asshole Republican, but I have always liked Bill Clinton. He is the world's greatest bullshit artist, and when he was president, it didn't matter what the hell he was saying. All he had to do was start orating and I'd be like, "Yeah, sounds good, Bill," no matter what came out of his mouth. He was the political equivalent of a snake charmer, and I have to respect that. Even when the whole Monica Lewinsky thing blew up, I was fully on Team Clinton, if only because I think the most powerful man in the free world SHOULD be getting blowjobs from whoever he wants. You know Hillary wasn't doing any sword swallowing, so the least America could do is give the man a break for getting some damn head to unwind; being president is mad stressful, so at the very least, he should get a little slack for wanting to relax a little bit with a good old-fashioned American knob polishing.
Now, I like Bill Clinton even more. Yesterday, this long-ass article in Vanity Fair dropped talking about all the hijinks--or, to use author Todd Purdum's words, "sins against decorum"--Bill has been up to since he moved his office out of the White House to Harlem. Among other things, Bill Clinton has been tooling around with playboy billionaires Steve Bing, Ron Burkle, and the hooker-hiring, "sex toy(s) and genitalia-shaped soap"-possessing Jeffrey Epstein, flying in their private jets (such as Burkle's awesomely named "Air Fuck One"), commanding six-figure speaker fees, and banging Gina Gershon, probably because he was inspired by her softcore girl-girl work in films like (perennial Smith College favorite) Bound and Showgirls. He's apparently been skirt chasing all over the world when he's not involved in shady business dealings with various shady rich guys, and Todd Pudnum is painting this as a bad thing. Later yesterday, Clinton's people shot back with a lengthy memo breaking down everything that's supposedly made up because Todd Purdum is a source-fabricating liar married to Clinton's former press secretary Dee Dee Myers, who left the Clinton White House acrimoniously.
I don't care if any of this stuff is made up, because I think it's awesome. Clinton spent eight years building the strongest economy in American history and serving the American people admirably, and I think he SHOULD be getting laid whenever and with whoever he likes (although maybe the stuff about Gina Gershon isn't true, since she's a little skinny for Bill's typical chubby-chasing taste). I think Bill Clinton should hang around with whatever rich assholes he likes and fly in private jets everywhere he goes. It's not like Hillary is actually going to beat Obama, so who cares what kind of ramifications Bill's antics have on her campaign? Her ass is going down like Monica on her husband, so I say let the Silver Fox go out and enjoy the millions he's made whoring himself out like the player he is.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, politics, President William Jefferson Clinton
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