Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Washington state ride or die
Those of you who are not addicted to the gossip internets may not be familiar with Katie Price, a sophisticated English lady who became famous posing topless for London's version of the New York Post. She got so famous showing her tits–sorry, I mean glamour modeling–that she decided to get a new set of modest F cups installed. Then she banged out a bunch of British footballers, starred in approximately 50 British reality shows, and married some boy bander named Peter Andre.
After spitting out some kids with Peter, things went south for the happy couple, and they split up. She has clearly tried to handle her public divorce with all the care and consideration of any celebrity mother of three concerned about making it as easy as possible on her children: by dumping the kids with her ex and heading to Ibiza to slut it up with her new (gay) boy toy.
I'd normally have approximately ZERO interest in this story if it weren't for the shirt her main homo is wearing. I could be mistaken due to the deep cleavage-baring scoop neck on that shirt, but I do believe it says "Washington State Riders."
I have been to Ibiza and I live in Washington state, and you frankly could not have two more incongruous places. I have no idea why this shirt was being peddled in Europe, much less represents something fashionable for Katie Price/Jordan's rebound queen to rock around Ibiza's many soap bubble clubs. This reminds me of the time I was in Belize and some local who had clearly never been off Ambergris Cay to mainland Belize, much less western Massachusetts, rode by on a beat up old Schwinn wearing a Smith College Biology shirt. Somehow I don't have a Smith College Biology shirt, and I graduated from Smith College with a fucking degree in biology, but a dude living in a corrugated metal shanty on an island off the coast of Belize with no paved roads and sporadic running water somehow managed to rock this fashion.
And I'm not even sure what the "Washington State Riders" are, but I'm equally indignant that somehow this shirt is hot in España but not in Washington state. I Googled "Washington State Riders" and found a bunch of stuff about motorcycles, although no group named exactly that. However, I could be wrong, but it looks like there's a horse on that lemon meringue pie of a top he's wearing. How do eurotrash fame whores know about some "riding" club in my home state that neither I or the internets are privy to?
Or maybe, squinting at it a little more, that's actually a picture of a rooster on his shirt. If that's the case, that makes a little more sense. I can understand why the Washington State (Cock) Riders club doesn't have much of an internet presence, being that we're a more discreet bunch of sluts (ha). I certainly believe that should Katie Price/Jordan's man get a model/acting gig in Seattle, he'll likewise join this club with a quickness.
Labels: celebrities, international intrigue, P-N-Dub, sluts, vulgar display of faggotry
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
Sunday, November 30, 2008
50 Cent and Lil Wayne's Thanksgiving wishes
I decided to check my RAZZY.org email for the first time in like three weeks, and was pleased to see Thanksgiving wishes from Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson, Christopher "Lloyd Banks" Lloyd, Marvin "Tony Yayo" Bernard, and the rest of the staff at thisis50.com, the official 50 Cent internets page of which I am a registered member. I signed up for thisis50.com so I could read the message boards, which one Razzyphile directed me to, describing them as "hilarious." The message boards involve a lot of arguing about whether or not The Game is a pussy, the sexually attractive aspects of various women, and whose mama has fellated who. Some folks in the forums also address larger issues such as the apocalypse ("the end of dayz...is it real?", "WAT IF JESUS WAS TO COME BACK RITE NOW...AND MURDERED ALL DESE RAPPERS???LYRICALLY!!!"), women's rights in the workplace ("WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT A CHICK THAT PUTS THAT WORK IN HARD LIKE A NIGGA?"), coastal educational and cultural disparities ("to all hataz of east coast rap pleaze and i mean pleaze go to school and complete it so u niggas can up grade yo mind. exspecailly some douth south catz im not sayn the south is wack") and current style trends in the world of urban fashion ("Why nigga's feel da need to wear tight shit?"). I am sure that all the G-g-g-g-unit's fans, despite their diverse interests and opinions, took a break from the debates raging on the thisis50.com forums to feel touched by Fitty's tender Thanksgiving greetings.
Well, it seems that warm Thanksgiving thoughts weren't shared by Curtis's colleagues to the south. New Orleanian Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter got together with his friend from Baton Rouge Torrence "Lil' Boosie" Hatch to perpetrate some mixtape hatery, which I immediately downloaded. I was surprised to hear the title track, "Louisianimal," was a diss on a gentleman the Lil's disparagingly refer to as "Two Quarters." On the basis of being "Lousianimals" these gentlemen proceed to unleash a barrage of promised thuggery. Lil' Wayne threatens to pour syrup in 50 Cent's signature grape-flavored "Formula 50" Vitamin Water, and threatens to sit around watching SportsCenter because his heart is even colder than his ice. He also insinuates he might just require the tattooing of yet another disingenuous teardrop representing yet another pretend murder victim, and promises to bisect 50 Cent, if he can ever get off his ass to demonstrate his more beastly Louisianimalian qualities.
I have no idea what 50 did to garner Weezy F Baby's ire, except maybe that he is helping his erstwhile collaborator Jeffrey "Ja Rule" Atkins perpetrate his infamous feud with my man Curtis. After all, in 2007 Tha Carter and Ja were both arrested on his-and-his gun charges after a concert in New York. Perhaps they vowed to fight each other's battles as they shared a cell at the Tombs. I don't really know what Lil' Wayne plans to do besides sit around drinking promethazine cough syrup to demonstrate his commitment to the wholesale destruction of 50 Cent. Certainly he's not doing anything with all those snakes and tarantulas and voodoo-ish whatnot on the mixtape artwork, unless Lil' Wayne defines voodoo as getting really, really, REALLY high and making a cameo in a LeBron James Nike commercial.
At least the 50 Cent apologists aren't letting this slide. When someone had the audacity to suggest that Lil' Wayne is talented and here to make fake beef with Fitty for years to come, a poster identified as G-Roc was quick to unleash his staunchly pro-Two Quarters opinion on the "undeducated" music lovers apparently fellating Lil' Wayne:
At least the 50 Cent apologists aren't letting this slide. When someone had the audacity to suggest that Lil' Wayne is talented and here to make fake beef with Fitty for years to come, a poster identified as G-Roc was quick to unleash his staunchly pro-Two Quarters opinion on the "undeducated" music lovers apparently fellating Lil' Wayne:
nigga shut ya bob marley bitch ass,lil wayne dick suckin ass up nigga, how many times i gotta tell ya bitch ass u a dick ridin mop head fuck, tight jeans wearin female ass nigga. how wayne dick taste nigga u suck dat shit too much fag, u dont da only nigga who dont know shit about hiphop dats why u comin in hear not knowing wat da fuck is goin in undeducated motherfucka, if u anit get no invatation i advise ur pussy mop head ass not to come in here bitch
I really hope that 50 Cent stops preparing holiday wishes for his website users and jumps into this himself, because I know he can do better than repeatedly calling Lil' Wayne and his fans "mop heads." 50 Cent and Lil' Wayne are two of my favorite rappers of all time, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than them releasing dueling diss tracks for the next five years. I can only imagine the aspersions Lil' Wayne will cast on 50's sexuality, and the insightful remarks about Lil' Wayne's tendency to make out and pose for homoerotic XXL covers with his adopted father Brian "Baby/Birdman" Williams, dressing in drag for album covers, and power bottom condom ads Fitty will make in return. At the very least, they can rag on each other's mugshots. Let the good time diss tracks roll.
Labels: 50 cent, celebrities, intentional buffoonery, Lil' Wayne, rap, vulgar display of faggotry
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: homos
DOB: same as humanity
Occupation: totally ruling
Hometown: everywhere
Current residence: everywhere!
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: So Sunday was Pride, and as always, it was a drunken great time. It's hard to be in a bad mood around thousands of gays during Pride because the atmosphere is so buoyant and joyful. Besides, being part lesbish myself, I have gone through the difficulties that most hommasekshuls probably face at one time or another: feeling like a freak, a pervert, a hellbound sinner, etc. Pride is great because everyone just celebrates who they are without reservation, and has a fucking blast. I have nothing but respect for the way gays can party their faces off with regard to who they are.
What I have less respect for is the proliferation of ugly-ass lesbians. I just do not understand why so many dykes just don't keep themselves up. There were more fat-ass harpies in stretch pants and pizza-faced trolls than I could shake a Pride flag at. While I made good on my promise to Twathopper to point out some of the ladies who did not fall into the category of "butch" or "dykes on bikes," I was less successful in pointing out some regular-looking lesbians who were actually attractive. Before the parade started, J-Sexy, I'mNotRussianGoddammit, Twathopper, Twathopper's friend (who I'll call CuteClothes because she's a snappy dresser...the last time I saw her she was rocking this adorable pair of heels and Sunday she was stunting in this hot-ass strapless dress), and myself went to this place down Seventh Avenue a couple blocks from the parade route for outdoor brunch, and we could not get over the sheer number of lesbians slacking heavily in the personal maintenance department. First off, a lot of ladies need to eat more pussy and less McDonald's, because there were some morbidly obese broads out in force. Unfortunately, said fat-ass broads were the ones who seemed to think that either white lycra stretch pants or a stripper-esque bra/miniskirt combo were appropriate attire for their size 22 asses. Second, a lot of the girls who WOULD be attractive were not making an even minimal effort to keep themselves up. I'd see what appeared from down the street to be a cute girl heading our way, only to realize that girlfriend needs to hit the Proactiv solution something serious when she'd get up close. The general sloppiness of the average lesbian wandering around was emphasized by the impeccably groomed gay men juxtaposed beside them. The group of super bitchy fags at the table next to us heard J-Sexy and I crowing about Tila Tequila's "snap-on tits," instantly became our friends, and we spent a solid hour making fun of the personal style choices of passing lesbians.
"Hey, I'mNotRussianGoddammit," said J-Sexy. "There's a girl for you. She looks kind of alternative and she has short hair."
We all looked to see this girl in a torn, dirty shirt, a pair of stained cutoffs, and a short, tousled mop of greasy hair.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" asked I'mNotRussianGoddammit. "I don't like HOMELESS girls!"
"J-Sexy, that bitch DOES look like a vagrant. And she's wearing a FANNY PACK!" I argued in I'mNotRussianGoddammit's defense.
"Fanny packs are in now! They're retro," said J-Sexy. "And anyway, she's not a vagrant...she's just grunge!"
"Grunge?! What is this, 1993? Dude, sorry, but I left my old Alice in Chains shirt back in my FRESHMAN YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL!" I said to J-Sexy. I felt it was important to argue in I'mNotRussianGoddammit's defense, since she's a hot piece and can certainly do better than indigent lesbians caught in an early '90s time warp.
Anyway, after about two hours of this, we decided to actually go check out the parade. That was thwarted by a sudden torrential rainstorm, from which we took shelter in the nearest bar. Unfortunately, this bar catered so strictly to a male clientele that not only were all the bartenders wearing nothing but tighty whities, there were Sistine Chapel-esque paintings of a host of chiseled, muscle-fag cherubim on every wall and cheesy house music blaring at an eardrum-rupturing volume. "I've got my eye on that vinyl jumpsuit over there," I said to Twathopper, who started laughing, because this is a line that Brandon Walsh used from the season 2 episode of "Beverly Hills, 90210" where Emily Valentine slips U4EA into his Fresca at the "underground club" AKA gay rave the gang attends.
"God, this place is such a sausage fest," noted CuteClothes. At that moment, a group of lesbians walked in to escape the rain, and we noticed that a couple of them were pretty cute. Unfortunately, they were all couples. Typical. I swear, it's easier to find a four-leaf clover growing out of a New York City sidewalk than a lesbian who is both single and attractive.
We finished up our beers, the rain tapered off, and we fled across Christopher Street to Kettle of Fish, a bar that is marginally more lesbish. At least it's a more mixed crowd, anyway, in the sense that there were plenty of unattractive lesbians playing Galaga and watching the Euro Cup final. We proceeded to drink heavily while we waited for my buddy El Polaco to march by with his group of gay Catholics. He came by at the end of the parade, and by that time, we were shitfaced and plastered with "God Made Me Queer" stickers. At that point, we bid goodbye to CuteClothes (too bad, because I was hoping I could work the "So, we both went to Seven Sisters schools...do the math" seduction angle with her), who wisely remembered that it was a school night. The rest of us weren't so smart, and ended up going to Cubby Hole, the dyke bar where I was infamously hassled by the nefarious bulldyke Blu. Luckily, Blu was not in attendance. Less luckily, I was so shitfaced that I decided it would be a great idea to drink J-Sexy's overproof rum straight as we waited in line, resulting in me actually DANCING once I got inside. Not only did I dance, I actually smoked a cigarette inside this tiny closet of a bar, and then proceeded to try to convince Twathopper to actually talk to this girl she thought was cute. Sadly, Twathopper's alcohol consumption had caught up with her and she was rapidly devolving into a gloomy solstice depression. I kept grabbing her chin and readjusting her facial posture, saying, "Chin UP, Twathopper! Nobody wants to L a super-depressed P, girl!" Unfortunately, she was too far gone, so I said goodbye to the girl I met who was trying to talk me into going to an orgy on some boat. It's for the best, because while an orgy might be fun and an awesome story, I probably shouldn't accompany random bitches I just met onto a floating bacchanal full of strange lesbians from which there is no escape short of diving into the Hudson River. I took Twathopper home for some pizza and some good old-fashioned lesbian processing about her feelings to lift her spirits. I even watched a Tegan and Sara video on LOGO with her, and managed to turn her frown upside down once we switched on the choice "Beverly Hills, 90210" episode where Brandon embarks on a self-righteous crusade to block the High Point Center from replacing the Peach Pit.
I may not have gotten laid, and I may not have gotten my apprentice laid, but I know it was a great Pride when I was too fucking hung over and exhausted yesterday to even regale you with the tale and go off about how much the homos kick ass.
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, J-Sexy, lezbollah, NYC, Twathopper, vulgar display of faggotry
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
"We Can't Explain It to Children" is the new "Fuckin' Faggots"
In this day and age, homophobia is just as unpopular as being gay used to be in mainstream society. Therefore, homophobes have to resort to new and clever means of getting their bigotry out there to discriminate against gays without looking like a total asshole. The most popular means of nice-guy gay bashing seems to be "how are we going to explain that to our kids?" People saying this seem to have the attitude that children are incapable of comprehending same-sex hotness, which is simply not true. When I was a little kid, I found the whole concept of homos mysterious and fascinating. That's probably because I'm kind of gay, but I feel that even burgeoning non-bisexual skank hetero kids can handle the truth when it comes to the fact that some people are more inclined to jam with people of their own gender. Normal, decent people should be able to accept that being gay isn't a big deal and explaining that gay people exist shouldn't be any different than explaining to a kid that the sky is blue and grass is green.
However, since the types of jackasses who have some dumb reason for hating the gays (probably because they ARE gay) seem to think otherwise, this now seems to be the order of the day for infringing upon gay people's civil rights. Not too long ago, the staff at Safeco Field cracked down on hot lesbian makeout sessions at Mariners games because people couldn't explain it to their children. Honestly, if I were a parent, I'd have a much harder time explaining to my kid why I spent money on tickets to watch the shittiest team in baseball while surrounded by ushers and homophobes who, judging by their reaction to two hot lesbian strippers sucking face, obviously hate fun. Do parents feel the need to explain it to their kids when they see a heterosexual couple kissing? Hell to the no! So I can't understand why these idiots think saying "oh, my kids won't understand" is an adequate excuse for denying the queers these same rights. Their kids probably already understand, at least if, like my parents, they buy them more Barbies than Ken dolls. Half of my Barbies were sushi-suckers strictly because I was constantly suffering a severe shortage of Kens for them to make out with. Besides, kids these days are savvy, what with their Grand Theft Auto and their MyFaces and Spacebooks and iPods and the like. With internets access like kids have these days, they've probably seen hardcore anal orgies by the age of six. Kids don't have a problem with gay people having the audacity to be gay in front of them, asshole parents; YOU have a problem with it!
This trend seems to have made its way across the pond to the UK, where Heinz pulled this commercial for "deli mayo" because of the extremely G-rated man-to-man kiss at the end of it. The reason? According to the Telegraph, because it was "offensive" and "unsuitable to be seen by children," partly because of the "difficulty" parents would have explaining it to their kids.
Are you kidding? This was "offensive"? I think the concept of caramelized onion-flavored mayo is more offensive than the completely nonsexual guy-guy makeout sesh at the end of the commercial. And how is this difficult to explain? Just say, "Imagine what would happen if your mom turned into a wisecracking New York deli guy" (although in fairness, if they really wanted to capture the authentic New York deli experience, the deli guy would be a short, sweaty man from Yemen and he'd be jabbering on his cellphone earpiece in rapid Arabic rather than calling anyone "sweet cheeks"). This is not difficult to explain. What's more difficult to explain to the kids is that their parents are raging bigots who are so insecure and uncomfortable with homosexuality that they are using their children as a lame excuse because they don't have the balls to just admit that they don't approve of gay people.
Are you kidding? This was "offensive"? I think the concept of caramelized onion-flavored mayo is more offensive than the completely nonsexual guy-guy makeout sesh at the end of the commercial. And how is this difficult to explain? Just say, "Imagine what would happen if your mom turned into a wisecracking New York deli guy" (although in fairness, if they really wanted to capture the authentic New York deli experience, the deli guy would be a short, sweaty man from Yemen and he'd be jabbering on his cellphone earpiece in rapid Arabic rather than calling anyone "sweet cheeks"). This is not difficult to explain. What's more difficult to explain to the kids is that their parents are raging bigots who are so insecure and uncomfortable with homosexuality that they are using their children as a lame excuse because they don't have the balls to just admit that they don't approve of gay people.
What I'd like to know is what's coming next in this brave new world of pussified bigotry. Are people going to start saying that interracial couples shouldn't be allowed to display affection in public because they won't be able to explain it to their precious children? This is pathetic and I am offended that Heinz, Safeco Field, and whoever else are actually even listening to these homo haters, much less acquiescing to their demands. I almost prefer the days when homophobes ran about freely saying "faggot" and "dyke," since at least those pricks were up front about their views and not making halfassed excuses about their children in order to be a spiteful dick and still save face. Reverend Fred "God Hates Fags" Phelps may be insane, but at least he's honest about his hatred, which is a lot more than I can say for these "concerned parents" who attribute their homophobia to an inability to communicate with their own children. When Fred Phelps seems like a more upstanding, respectable citizen than you, that's when you've REALLY got problems. Eat some same-sex genitals, you pussy gay bashers.
Labels: assholes, lezbollah, ranting, retard rage, scathing indictments, vulgar display of faggotry
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: gay marriage in California
DOB: June 17, 2008
Occupation: making for some official homo couples
Hometown: Sacramento, California
Current residence: throughout the Golden State
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I think most people can probably easily surmise that I'm pro-gay marriage. I actually don't really care whether it's called "marriage" or "civil union" or whatever else, so long as the queers doing it get the same rights afforded to their heterosexual counterparts. Luckily, as of yesterday, it's ON in California!
Some people may be scratching their heads and thinking, "Wait a second...isn't Razzy a Republican? How can she support gay marriage?" It may be true that in this election, I'm down with officer and a hot piece Senator John McCain, but I don't vote for social issues. I'm also pro-choice, and in spite of all the women who have told me in near-hysterical tones that "BUT THEY ONLY NEED ONE MORE SUPREME COURT JUSTICE!" Well, seven of the nine justices were appointed by Republican presidents and I still managed to have a safe (albeit horrible), legal abortion. I'm not voting for a president with my uterus, or with my semi-gay vagina. Besides, I believe that marriage law should be decided by the states, not the federal government. So, yes...I'm all for the homos getting hitched and having every other civil right afforded to Americans. Besides, every last pervy Razzyphile who has jerked off to a post I've written about fucking girls here and there knows that I'm bi, and what do you think the "B" in LGBT stands for? I say a big "yay" to gay rights.
I therefore offer a wholehearted congratulations to all the hot fags and lezzies making it legal in California, and wish them nothing but happiness and success in their marriages. I hope they truly enjoy each other's health insurance benefits, and the marriage benefit on their taxes, and planning each other's funerals. Go gay marriage!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, I LOVE IT, lezbollah, vulgar display of faggotry
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Homo Fide
In used-to-be late-breaking news, California announced that the bill to ban same-sex union has been rejected, allowing homosexuals throughout the Golden State to walk down the aisle with legal sanction. In 30ish days time, the law will be signed into effect.
Meanwhile, homos from North to South have already begun to plan they nuptials.
While controversy will certainly arise in the days and months to come, divided parties will agree on one certainty: this decision offers a great deal of hope for the struggling economy in the creation of several new, essential jobs.
Ye seekers of employment, hone your skills and head into any of these 'bout-to-burgeon professions:
FINERY - Tuxedo rentals will see a spike, so for the retail- and customer service-savvy, high thee to the formal wear vendor nearest you. Plus- and petite-sizes a perfect must.
CATERING - Homosexual appeptites will undoubtedly run up, and spikes in the creation, cooking and service of food and beverage is to be expected. Think hummus and tuna tartare, champers and Kentucky rye. The rest will fall into place.
BOUNCERS - The lines at the Unitarian Church will inevitably stretch from White Castle to the Nile - or at least Baja to Berkeley. The services of steady butchesque types the state over will be in high demand, to keep the... peace.
DOGS - Got something [anything] to do with dogs? Prepare ye the coming of boom. Grooming, sitting, schooling, vending, outfitting, walking - you name it. There will be many an abandoned or undisciplined canine, be it left behind on a honeymoon or slated to be a ring bearer.
UHAULs - No joke needed.
RAV4 / SCION STRETCH LIMO RENTALS - Joke needed. But the fact remains that many members of the wedding Parties will need a seat in a practical vehicle. Preferably... boxy.
DIVORCE LAWYERS - Gays will finally be able to take advantage of their God-given rights as Americans to both marry and separate formally . So get with the picture and sharpen your knowledge of marital law. Social services will always be there as a back-up when the, er, dam breaks.
Expect a steady hold in lace, a hold in contraception, a spike in latex and a potential turn in the California housing market. Wills/testaments may also see an increase, but plan carefully.
And so. The skeptical, curious and optimistic eyes of the nation turn west anew to await the new chapter in our nation's social history. The clever among us will seize the day to serve this new wave of change in the most advantageous way, with Amer'can ingenuity, pluck, and other-cheekness. Till death do us.
Meanwhile, homos from North to South have already begun to plan they nuptials.
While controversy will certainly arise in the days and months to come, divided parties will agree on one certainty: this decision offers a great deal of hope for the struggling economy in the creation of several new, essential jobs.
Ye seekers of employment, hone your skills and head into any of these 'bout-to-burgeon professions:
FINERY - Tuxedo rentals will see a spike, so for the retail- and customer service-savvy, high thee to the formal wear vendor nearest you. Plus- and petite-sizes a perfect must.
CATERING - Homosexual appeptites will undoubtedly run up, and spikes in the creation, cooking and service of food and beverage is to be expected. Think hummus and tuna tartare, champers and Kentucky rye. The rest will fall into place.
BOUNCERS - The lines at the Unitarian Church will inevitably stretch from White Castle to the Nile - or at least Baja to Berkeley. The services of steady butchesque types the state over will be in high demand, to keep the... peace.
DOGS - Got something [anything] to do with dogs? Prepare ye the coming of boom. Grooming, sitting, schooling, vending, outfitting, walking - you name it. There will be many an abandoned or undisciplined canine, be it left behind on a honeymoon or slated to be a ring bearer.
UHAULs - No joke needed.
RAV4 / SCION STRETCH LIMO RENTALS - Joke needed. But the fact remains that many members of the wedding Parties will need a seat in a practical vehicle. Preferably... boxy.
DIVORCE LAWYERS - Gays will finally be able to take advantage of their God-given rights as Americans to both marry and separate formally . So get with the picture and sharpen your knowledge of marital law. Social services will always be there as a back-up when the, er, dam breaks.
Expect a steady hold in lace, a hold in contraception, a spike in latex and a potential turn in the California housing market. Wills/testaments may also see an increase, but plan carefully.
And so. The skeptical, curious and optimistic eyes of the nation turn west anew to await the new chapter in our nation's social history. The clever among us will seize the day to serve this new wave of change in the most advantageous way, with Amer'can ingenuity, pluck, and other-cheekness. Till death do us.
Labels: FalloniusMonk, holy fucking matrimony, lezbollah, vulgar display of faggotry
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Lesbian riot! Go Pioneers!
My friend DanRubin is an editor at a major sports magazine, and he is in charge of the college sports department, so he spends all day surfing the internets looking for interesting sports-related college news stories. Today, he stumbled on this story, and naturally immediately passed along the link, along with a preemptory "you're welcome." Obviously anything with the headline "LESBIAN RIOT AT SMITH COLLEGE!" is worth my time reading.
Basically, the Smith College Republican Club invited some moron named Ryan Sorba (not to be confused with Kevin Sorbo of "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" fame) to speak. Ryan Sorba wrote some (currently unpublished) book called The Born Gay Hoax, in which he basically hates on homos and tries to use his experience taking Psych 101 at Cal State to disprove the theory that those of us who like to get a little hot same-sex action were born this way. I guess it fits that he went all the way to Northampton to speak about it, since the only place this might be true is actually at Smith, where there are LUGs (Lesbian Until Graduation, AKA the "Four Year Plan") in abundance. Presumably Ryan Sorba wrote this to try and convince himself that there's got to be some other reason for his lifelong attraction to men than him being inherently a big old sausage sucker. I assume he went the intellectual route for being a self-loathing Uncle Tom 'mo after he realized that as a rather slight, wimpy dude, the standard college-age male strategy for homosexual self-denial (calling random guys "fags" and threatening to beat their asses for existing) wasn't going to work out.
This is pretty typical of the Smith College Republicans. Granted, I'm KIND OF a Republican, but trust that I didn't hang out with those bitches at Smith (like my hero, John McCain, I'm a "maverick"). They were all the prototypical "pearls and penny loafers" Smith girls, who spent all their time complaining about the gays and feeling discriminated against for being privileged prissy rich princesses parroting their daddies' political beliefs on account of having no personality of their own. Basically, they were a bunch of dumb snatches who just wanted to make a club facilitating a group whine-a-thon about all the outspoken dykes taking over campus with their Subarus and wide-wale cords and bleeding heart politics, and rendering the campus a very Babs Bush/Nancy Reagan-unfriendly environment. The Smith Republicans are usually such a bunch of predictable twats that hiring some wannabe author with similarly reactionary homophobic beliefs is a pretty standard move from their playbook. Equally predictable as the Smith Republicans' poor choice of simple-minded bigots as seminar speakers is the reaction of the substantially larger LBT community at Smith: a peaceable riot.
The lesbians eventually got so loud that Ryan Sorba was shamed into sitting down. The best part of the video is when the obvious Republican (denoted by her neutral-toned blazer, tasteful brooch, and Ann Taylor slacks) starts frantically trying to decide what to do in the midst of a churning sea of ugly haircuts. Smith hasn't changed a bit since I completed matriculating there eight years ago. Ahhh...memories.
The only thing I have a problem with on the lesbians' end is their chant. I'm so sick of that tired old "We're here! We're queer! Get over it!" line. That's been in rotation since fucking Stonewall! Not that Smith lesbians are known for their creativity, since most come in roughly three flavors (Sporting Lesbian, Plain Lesbian, Androgynous Lesbian), but find some new protest chant already. I would be a lot more impressed if they'd marched into the meeting singing "Born to eat puss-ay" (to the tune of "Born in the USA"...DUH!) or something like that. If they can't think of anything as good as that, they could at least regurgitate some old Team Dresch lyrics. Anything besides that played-out "We're here! We're queer!" chant peppered with enthusiastic shrieks and woo-hooing. Switch it up for the next riot, gals!
The only thing I have a problem with on the lesbians' end is their chant. I'm so sick of that tired old "We're here! We're queer! Get over it!" line. That's been in rotation since fucking Stonewall! Not that Smith lesbians are known for their creativity, since most come in roughly three flavors (Sporting Lesbian, Plain Lesbian, Androgynous Lesbian), but find some new protest chant already. I would be a lot more impressed if they'd marched into the meeting singing "Born to eat puss-ay" (to the tune of "Born in the USA"...DUH!) or something like that. If they can't think of anything as good as that, they could at least regurgitate some old Team Dresch lyrics. Anything besides that played-out "We're here! We're queer!" chant peppered with enthusiastic shrieks and woo-hooing. Switch it up for the next riot, gals!
Labels: assholes, Dumb Smith bitches, lezbollah, vulgar display of faggotry
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Last entry ever
Dear Razzyphiles, Haters, and Colleagues,
It's come to my attention that some people don't like my blog. In fact, they would rather read anything than useless bullshit written by a fat, ugly, batshit crazy whore. Because these people sometimes voluntarily come to my site anyway and I am completely insecure regarding what they think of me, I've realized that there's only one thing to do: hang it up.
Yes, I can no longer bear the strain of offending the sensibilities of the god-like personalities who come to this website and are confronted with the horrific reality of my repertoire of posts. Nobody deserves to read something on a personal blog that was penned by an old (almost 30!) skank with a busted face and a disgustingly obese body about her personal opinions, her revolting sex life (which is probably a lie, since most rational people would prefer fucking a herpetic sheep than a fugly bitch like yours truly), and her stupid, pathetic, insignificant, attention-whoring life. I can't believe I've inflicted such misery on so many innocent people, who came here expecting something actually useful, intelligent, or entertaining. I've seen the light, and I intend to live a life of righteousness. It seems that rather than useless bullshit mongering, I should be out hatemongering. I only hope that I can make up for all the wrongs (besides the aforementioned lack of physical attractiveness or intellect, I've also been one hell of a fag-enabler) I've perpetrated on my fellow man.
I've realized that the satanic spirit of mockery is alive and well in the world, and I have been its instrument for far too long. This wise man has pointed out to me that God hates America, vile land of the sodomite damned. It is the most ungrateful and the most arrogant, anti-God nation that ever existed. Luckily, I saw this video, and I have now converted to membership in the Westboro Baptist Church so that I may cease my godless bloggery and live a life that God does not categorically hate:
So I'm turning over a new leaf. I found Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, and I plan to devote all my spare time and energy to hating fags, because that's the godly thing to do (DUH!). Also I'm giving up booze for its inherent Christ-hating faggotry, tearing up my Smith diploma AKA my BA from Dyke U, smashing the false idol known as my fag-broadcasting television, and ceasing my rabid support and love for President George W. Bush, the greatest fag-enabler of them all. If it weren't for fags, America wouldn't be the sodomite pillar of salt that it is today. In fact, if it weren't for fags, unsuspecting internets readers would never have had to endure modern terrors like the Iraq War, 9/11, or the sight of my naked breasts. Thus, if you want to read anything I've written in the future, you'll have to come to any given soldier's funeral that I'm picketing and take a gander at my "BURN IN HELL NAVY FAGS" sign (complete with buttfucking stick figures).
Anyway, if you want to know more about my newfound attempts at redemption via fag-hatred and plan to relocate to Topeka to be closer to my Prophet, the Rev. Fred Phelps, you should check out this web site.
Yours in fag-stomping for Christ,
Razzy
Labels: intentional buffoonery, Razzification, vulgar display of faggotry
Monday, March 24, 2008
Hoes make it rain on McCain
A bunch of fat chicks were out shopping for new muumuus at Lane Bryant and got to talking about how they could help out their favorite candidate, John McCain. Unfortunately, they came up with the worst idea ever: make a YouTube video that would "outdo" the one Obama Girl made. There's just one problem: Obama Girl was hot in an Eliot Spitzer-servicing prostitute kind of way, and these BBWs look like a pod of whales (one of which is a Depends-wearing grandma) in hideous stretch pants.
Actually, there are two problems. The second is that they relied on "It's Raining Men," aka # 4 on this list of the gayest songs ever, for inspiration. "It's Raining McCain" does little in the way of conjuring up images which aren't nauseating. I'm already voting for McCain, but if I were undecided, trust that a woman with three chins refreshingly splashing her face with John McCains wouldn't sway me into his camp. I couldn't even enjoy the sexy footage of young Vietnam-era McCain because of these trolls shimmying their cellulite in front of his American hero hotness. "I'm gonna go out and get myself absolutely JOHN MCCAIN!"?!?! PLEASE no more follow-up videos.
Labels: fat fucks, gross, intentional buffoonery, John McCain, politics, vulgar display of faggotry, you're ugly
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
Thursday, March 06, 2008
R. Beast
Loyal Razzyphile Big Rump just e-mailed me to advise me of all sorts of useful information. For starters, did you know that my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson is running a CELEBRITY GOSSIP BLOG? It's true...it has articles about Lil' Kim having lesbian sex and shamelessly promotes some kind of diss video 50 Cent made about Fat Joe called "Elephant in the Sand" (*snicker*). If anyone was born to bust on celebrities for totally arbitrary and capricious reasons, it's my man Curtis. This is following up on another hilarious video Big Rump passed along, in which Fitty responds to a Fat Joe dissing him on Power105 ("don't mess up my teeth...I just got these, man!"). Needless to say, Big Rump went sailing on the internets and returned with a ship laden with the Razzy equivalent of silk, spices, and indigo.
Anyway, the best thing Big Rump passed along, however, has to be this link to a little song called "I'm a Beast" that a certain King/Pied Piper/R-uh of R&B has chosen to bless the music listening public with.
YES! A fresh Kells jam to tide me over until TP Fourth Quarter drops later this year! Supposedly this song is about Kells's feud with Ne-Yo. In the interest of informing those who aren't pathologically obsessed with R. Kelly like I am about the background of this beef, let me briefly reiterate what has transpired thus far. Ne-Yo was supposed to open for Kells on his (mindblowingly awesome) Double Up tour. Ne-Yo apparently wanted more money or was unhappy with his contract or something, so he left the tour before it barely got started. Instead of just moving on with his life, Ne-Yo decided to get some press for something besides being R&B's most obvious closet homo next to Usher by suing R. Kelly for firing him out of jealousy over Ne-Yo's talent. This is worthy of some audible laughter, since the man who has penned lines like "up in my room, you screamin, 'Hercules! Hercules!'", "gonna go down on my knees and ax that ass to marry me," and "the next time your ass gets horny, go fuck one of your funky-ass friends...hell, you're probably already doing that shit anyway" is hardly bothered by a twink singing about how sexy his she-male life partner looks when (s)he's mad. Fag, please.
Anyway, Ne-Yo should be shaking in his boots, because Kells did not decide to handle this one in court. R. Kelly has bigger fish (ie: four felony child pornography counts) to fry in the legal department, so rather than distract any of his attorneys with Ne-Yo's bullshit lawsuit, he decided to deal with this himself, and on his terms. Specifically, he hit the Chocolate Factory and laid down this track, or in his words, "call the hits my lawyer cause they got me out on bail." Big Rump characterized this as "garbage," but I must disagree, unless by "garbage" he means "UNADULTERATED GENIUS." Go listen to it now, or if you are too lazy to do so, here's the lyrics:
Ayyyyy-ayyyyyy-ayyyyyAh-ah-ah-ah-ah(CHORUS)So get it understood, boyI'm from the hood, boyCame up from the dirtSelf-made hustlaI'm a beastI'm a beast(Rapping--verse 1)I'm surrounded by these devil mouths all talkin about KellsSome say I came from heaven but I rose up from hellAnd ever since I rose up success has been my saleSo call the hits my lawyer cause they got me out on bailNever been a snitch, boyNever been a bitch, boyWhy I gotta hate on you?Look at me, I'm rich, boy!You need a steering wheel, the way you ride my dick, boy!You say you's a go getta, go get your own shit, boy!What is it gonna take for you motherfuckers to understand I'm the R&B boss?Kells think he'll ride--nah, bitch, I'm just tryin' to get my point across.Niggas hatin' on niggas, man y'all know you keep up shit!That's why when it comes to these hits, I'm-a keep up shit!Keep risin to the top, keep getting that moneyKeep laughin' at you clowns, 'cause you clowns is funny!I been grindin' for 17 years, tryin' to keep the peaceBut now, you motherfuckers done brought out the BEAST!(CHORUS 2X)(Rapping--verse 2)When I was young, all my dreams seemed so farComin' up was so hardNow I'm a rock star cause all I do is rock broads.I stays on fire, just look at the hot cars.You need a hit from Kells, alright, my nigga, no prob.I'm clean but I'm dirtI'm good but I'm the worstI'm last and I'm the firstI'm blessed and I'm cursedBut my career is soaring while my life is a hot messBut the depth of my struggle determines the height of my successI BELIEVE THATWhatever billion dollars--tryin' to see thatWhatever billion--I'm-a be still axin' "where the weed at?"Hit lots of clubs, take lots of shots of PatronHold my middle finger up, tell haters to get the fuck onStay shinin', boyStay grindin', boyKeep these fine-ass bitches straight eyein' it, boy!Now where you gonna hear a better nameThan 17 years in the game?Still continuing to make it rainAnd put these fools to shame...I'm a BEAST!(CHORUS 2X)(Conversational interlude)Wait a minute, wait a minute, where you goin?You ain't goin' no-motherfuckin'-where, I got more to say, bitch! Look at me.(Rapping--verse 3)Y'all smile in my face and talk shit in back of meI got the ball, I'm tryin' to shoot but y'all niggas keep hackin' me!Could it be that I'm a king 'cause R&B been good to me?Or could it be that you's a lame that hate the game and can't be me!I used to rep the Chi, but now I know my worthI still rep the Chi, but Earth is my turf, nigga!I been around the world,Thrown bitches round the world,Heard rumors round the world,Still I'm touring round the world!Talk about me on your records to make your sales better,Play it backwards, it'll probably say "Kells is as cold as ever."So don't think this is a songIt's a taste of my wrathBack to you, nervous nigga,I got a dick and a half!(CHORUS 2X)(Conversational fade)Ha ha, I got your ass!I would call out some motherfuckin names,But there's so many of you motherfuckers hate me,The song ain't motherfuckin long enough, bitch ass niggas.Fade that shit...Maybe on the remix, nigga, I'll call your name out.You gotta stay tuned for that shit, I'm trying to sell records.Bitch, I'm a businessman.
While this may not be the greatest contribution to Kells's brilliant repertoire of mackadelic nightspot realness, I have no doubt that Robert Sylvester Kelly, self-made hustla reppin' the Chi, indeed has a dick and a half. He is, after all, a mountain, a tall tree, a swift wind sweeping the country, a river down in the valley, a vision that sees clearly, that star up in the sky, a mountain peak on high, that little bit of hope when your back's against the ropes, a giant, an eagle, a lion down in the jungle, a marching band, the people, a helping hand, a hero, a light at the end of the tunnel, and a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow...in other words, the World's Greatest! And really, he's always hearing a bunch of old bullshit like "Robert, you did this, Kells, I heard you did that," so it's high time he gave the haters a heaping helping of his ire.
Oh, and as for the names he didn't call? Well, I can think of a few off the top of my head, so you don't even have to stay tuned for the remix (which might be a wait, since per his own admission, he "usually doesn't do this (remixes)". Apart from the obvious Ne-Yo, Kells has issues with 50 Cent (who once infamously sang "there ain't nothin' wrong with pissin' on little girls" to the tune of "Bump 'n' Grind" and included the lyric "I'm pissin' on grown women, R. Kelly do it to children" on his latest album Curtis), Jay-Z (who precipitated the collapse of their Unfinished Business tour when his bodyguard maced Kells backstage at Madison Square Garden), Cam'ron (due to some sort of unauthorized remix-making), former publicist Regina Daniels (who quit and talked trash to the press when Kells boned her PERFECTLY LEGAL 20-year old daughter), and Assistant State's Attorney Shauna Boliker (the prosecutor in his impending child porn trial). Although he has a natural inclination to ball rather than hate, I can't blame him for giving these assholes their due. You go, Beast! Hold that middle finger up and tell the haters to get the fuck on!
Labels: 50 cent, correspondence, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, Razzyphiles, Robert Sylvester Kelly, vulgar display of faggotry
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Lil' Joe Shepard
*RAZZY Note: Man, it was hard finding pictures of Lil' Joe on the internets since he took down his MySpace. So I had to go with this promo picture from his band, Heloise and the Savoir Faire. Joe is the turkey.
Name: Joe Shepard
DOB: ???--1978?
Occupation: award-winning non-sexual porn star, dancer for Heloise and the Savoir Faire, hot piece
Hometown: somewhere in Assachusetts, I think
Current residence: Brooklyn, New York
Why I Want to Hit That Hotness: My pals KatieScarlett and BloodyTosser, AKA world-famous (or will be soon) photographers Kate and Camilla, have been friends with this guy Lil' Joe since we were all in college. Lil' Joe is a trained dancer and all-around talented, hilarious artfag. When he lived in Northampton during my college days, he was responsible for me seeing my first gay porn, the seminal El Paso Wrecking Crew. Little did I know that his fondness for gay porn would lead to his starring in one, and then winning a GAYVN Award!
The GAYVN Awards are the gay porn version of the AVN Awards, which are the Oscars of Porn. This year's AVN Awards made headlines when Jenna Jameson announced--to the masturbating public's overall relief--that she "will never spread (her) legs in this industry again." Nothing like that happened at this year's GAYVN Awards, so I didn't see what went on there. However, last night when I was having dinner with KatieScarlett and her girlfriend, she asked if I wanted to pose for this "porn site" she was doing some freelance shoots for.
"I don't have to have sex with anyone, do I?" I wanted to know. I may be a depraved slut not above sleeping with people whose names I barely know, but even the dirtiest skanks have a limit, and mine is fucking on camera. Well, fucking on camera for public consumption anyway.
"No! It's just nudes. You'll get a couple hundred dollars."
I considered this since I'm naked on the internets all the time and I'm broke, but eventually gave up the idea when I found out it would mean schlepping to Queens for an interview. I'm lazy.
"I guess this 'porn' website isn't my calling," I told KatieScarlett.
"Too bad," she said. "Lil' Joe got into it, and he won an award!"
I practically spit my Tsingtao all over our dumplings.
"What?! Lil' Joe made a porn? When?!"
"Last summer! Remember, I asked you if you wanted to come hang out on the set as an extra?"
I did vaguely remember KatieScarlett asking me if I wanted to go watch a gay porn being filmed, but I had no idea that Lil' Joe was going to be in it. I remember being disappointed that I had something else going on that day, and thus had to miss what would have been an undoubtedly fascinating cultural experience.
"Yeah, I remember, but you never told me that Lil' Joe was IN IT! Was he a top or a bottom?"
Lil' Joe is small, but I can totally see him as a top. He's the man. I remember one time KatieScarlett told me he went to this hick wedding in Vermont and spent the whole weekend covertly fucking this hot, "straight" farm boy in some dilapidated shack in the woods.
"Neither, dude! He was just an actor!"
"An actor? Like he didn't have sex...he was actually just acting? No cocksucking or anything?"
"No, dude! He won the award for 'Best Non-Sexual Performance'! They flew him to the awards show and everything so he could accept in person!"
Amazing. Only Lil' Joe would manage to steal the show in a gay porn without so much as taking his pants off. A brief search of the internets confirmed that the gay porn community indeed gave him rave reviews for his performance as an "over-the-top" receptionist at a gay porn studio in The Intern. I also realized that his show-stealing was extremely impressive considering the talent starring alongside him. The title character is played by some guy named Ben Andrews, and one glance at his penis makes my ass hurt just thinking about it. Uff da.
Anyway, I wanted to offer my most sincere and admiring congratulations to Lil' Joe on another illustrious achievement in what is proving to be an unusual and successful career. He's hilarious and insanely talented, and I can now brag that I know a non-sexual porn star! Hats off and dicks up to Lil' Joe!
Labels: artfaggotry, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, KatieScarlett, porn, vulgar display of faggotry
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: John Gibson
DOB: 1946
Occupation: FOX News talk show host, insensitive cad, sworn enemy of the British Broadcasting Corporation
Hometown: ???
Current residence: New York, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I used to watch FOX News a lot, because the people on it are so ridiculous. Between their whole Bush propagandist freedom schtick and their intentionally obnoxious, constantly editorializing personalities, I found FOX News to be completely hilarious. However, that got tired after awhile. You can only watch Sean Hannity and Ann Coulter giving each other palpable fuck-me eyes while spouting a steady stream of outrageous asshole gibberish for so long before you decide to see if Bravo is showing any episodes of "Project Runway" that you've seen five times already.
When I do watch FOX, I usually skip right past "The Big Story," because John Gibson is boring as well as boorish, and he looks like the villain in a bad Lifetime movie. I could see him playing a child-molesting stepfather or a date-raping corrupt city councilman opposite the survivor-victim female protagonist portrayed by Rena Sofer or Rebecca Gayheart. Every once in a while, Gibson produces some extreme assholery, like his crusade against those damn America-hating foreigners at the BBC or his wishing for "another 9/11" to galvanize support for Bush and the Iraq war. Most of the time, however, he creeps me out, so I don't watch his show, and I sure as shit don't listen to his radio program. Besides, I'm more into the hotness that is Shepard Smith.
Anyway, John Gibson had one of his rare moments of achievements in being a dick yesterday when he started going off on Heath Ledger. He mocked him with audio clips of the infamous "I don't know how to quit you" and came up with a few theories about why Heath Ledger made such an early departure from this mortal coil. This created some controversy, because apparently making fun of Heath Ledger is off-limits now that he's no longer with us, and because making fun of gay movie characters sounds like homophobia to idiots. Frankly, I would be more upset about the fact that the Reverend Fred Phelps is taking his "GOD HATES FAGS" signs down under to picket Heath's funeral because, according to Westboro Baptist Church spokeswhore Shirley Phelps-Roper, "he got on that big screen with a big, fat message: God is a liar and it’s OK to be gay." Their press release describes Brokeback Mountain as a "sordid, tacky bucket of slime seasoned with vomit" and "He (God) hates all persons having anything whatsoever to do with it." They also add, "Heath Ledger thought it was great fun defying God Almighty and His plain word; to wit: God Hates Fags! & Fag-Enablers!... Heath Ledger is now in Hell, and has begun serving his eternal sentence there - beside which, nothing else about Heath Ledger is relevant or consequential." Now once I got to the "seasoned with vomit" part I said, "A-HA! Homophobia alert!" Actually, that happened when I went to the URL godhatesfags.com. The Westboro Baptist Church thinks Heath is currently roasting over an eternal flame at the business end of a pitchfork for being a "fag-enabler," and I'm going to call a spade a spade and say that the Phelpses are indeed homophobic. I don't really think that making fun of scenes from Brokeback Mountain on a FOX News radio show necessarily is the same thing, but you can decide for yourself.
Perez Hilton is incensed about this--because he does SUCH a service for the gays by being the most annoying queen in the history of Manic Panic hair dye and other brightly colored accessories for plumage enhancement and outing every celebrity he can think of who MIGHT be hitting it on the same-sex tip because they don't deserve private lives--and provided this synopsis of Gibson's insensitive eulogizing of Heath Ledger:
Playing an audio clip of the iconic quote, 'I wish I knew how to quit you' from Ledger’s gay romance movie Brokeback Mountain, Gibson disdainfully quipped, 'Well, he found out how to quit you.' Laughing, Gibson then played another clip from Brokeback Mountain in which Ledger said, 'We’re dead,' followed by his own, mocking 'We’re dead' before playing the clip again."I think this is actually kind of funny, at least the part about John Edwards and speculation about Heath's portfolio taking a dive down on Wall Street. Tasteless, maybe, but COME ON. It's Heath Ledger! Who cares? I know Heath Ledger's death was surprising and a big tragedy and everyone is devastated and he was talented and blah blah blah, but this is Heath Ledger, not fucking JFK. Heath Ledger from 10 Things I Hate About You (filmed in Tacoma, WA!) and the appalling two hour movie rendition of a Medieval Times matinee jousting showcase known as A Knight's Tale. Okay, so Brokeback Mountain was fine, but still...Heath Ledger didn't end the damn Cold War or broker peace or invent a vaccine or get Africa out of debt or do anything besides convince everyone that he was a gay cowboy and not an Australian Johnny Depp wannabe hipster, knock up that chick from "Dawson's Creek," and move to Brooklyn. It's not like making a couple dumb splices of a memorable scene from Brokeback Mountain is the equivalent of making fun of Holocaust survivors or something really loathsome and inexcusable.
Gibson called Ledger a "weirdo" with a "serious drug problem" and suggested that Ledger killed himself because he had "a serious position in the (stock) market" or perhaps "watched the Clinton-Obama debate last night. I think he was an Edwards guy, cause he saw his Edwards guy was just completely irrelevant."
Besides, this is FOX NEWS! How can anyone get mad about something a FOX host says that is crass or offensive? That describes virtually ALL of their programming. John Gibson was just doing his damn job: reporting unsubstantiated sensationalist facts and being an asshole. I applaud him for having such a high standard for professionalism. I also am glad SOMEONE is trying to be funny about Heath Ledger, because if I have to read one more breaking story about how Heath Ledger liked his coffee or how he helped some dumbass change a tire once or how John Travolta had a huge hard-on for him, I'm going to go crazy. I get it. Heath Ledger was nice. It's sad that he's dead. That's a downer, so why not try to add some levity with a couple mean-spirited jokes? Good show, John Gibson. You may not have much class, but at least your black heart is in the right place.
Labels: assholes, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, intentional buffoonery, media whores, movies, people who died, TV, vulgar display of faggotry
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Help a honey out
So I was surprised last week when this honey who unceremoniously left me home and enraged on a Friday night via the world's lamest text message ("can we do a raincheck-type thing?") e-mailed me to apologize. As hard as it may be for you all to believe, I have had dudes blow me off after banging me before (obviously they are stupid and insane), but having one regret his actions and take the initiative to actually say sorry is unprecedented in my experience. I felt his apology was sincere, and accepted it because (don't tell anyone) I'm actually a sort-of nice person, and I thought he was funny (the greatest attribute in my value system) prior to his being a dumbass. Thus I improved his status from "Elevated" to "Guarded" on my Honey Asshole Behavior Alert Scale, and now we're e-mail friends of sorts:
It turns out this honey wasn't apologizing exclusively to mitigate the shame he should feel at being dumb enough to cancel plans with me and vanish after I totally blew his mind in bed, but because he also needed some advice on how to run his stable of hos. Apparently he's had a little bit of trouble getting girls to fall in line with his "let's just fuck without any emotional commitment" paradigm of relationships and wanted to know if I could help communicate this message to the ladies. Being that I have been dealing with annoying stalkers and hanger-ons lately, I could relate to his dilemma and thought about it over the weekend. I came up with some advice on being a better communicator about his goals and explaining more clearly the motives of the girls he's choosing to date/bang, but I thought it might be helpful to survey the opinions of the internets. Here is his question:
Also, if you'd prefer an alternate topic for commenting on, this honey asserts that Maker's Mark with ginger ale is not a gay drink. I say he may as well be drinking an apple martini. Thoughts?
It turns out this honey wasn't apologizing exclusively to mitigate the shame he should feel at being dumb enough to cancel plans with me and vanish after I totally blew his mind in bed, but because he also needed some advice on how to run his stable of hos. Apparently he's had a little bit of trouble getting girls to fall in line with his "let's just fuck without any emotional commitment" paradigm of relationships and wanted to know if I could help communicate this message to the ladies. Being that I have been dealing with annoying stalkers and hanger-ons lately, I could relate to his dilemma and thought about it over the weekend. I came up with some advice on being a better communicator about his goals and explaining more clearly the motives of the girls he's choosing to date/bang, but I thought it might be helpful to survey the opinions of the internets. Here is his question:
I just can't figure out how to get it through some girls' heads that by sleeping with them, it doesn't mean I want to date and fall in love with them. Is there some magic words to get these chicks to divorce the sex from any emotions. Am I a total asshole for feeling this way?Like I said, this was relevant to current situations in my own life, and as an added bonus, reminded me that I had been meaning to write a scathing polemic against "Sex and the City" and what a bullshit show that is. Therefore, I would be interested to hear YOUR thoughts (for once) on this matter. So leave some comments, Razzyphiles!
I thought that in 2007, after Sex and the City and all that, it's cool to just fuck around a little bit without it meaning too much. Or am I just picking horrendously clingy girls.
In a nutshell, that's my dilemma. Thoughts?
Also, if you'd prefer an alternate topic for commenting on, this honey asserts that Maker's Mark with ginger ale is not a gay drink. I say he may as well be drinking an apple martini. Thoughts?
Labels: Razzification, sex, Sex and the City, sluts, vulgar display of faggotry
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Gay hookers/sluts of the GOP
DOB: Varied
Occupation: information technology consultant, former male prostitute, college Republican/US Army captain (retired), and unknown, respectively
Hometown: the down-low
Current residence: out of the closet
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: I've already lauded David Phillips for his bravery at telling the world the degrading tale of santorum-smeared boxer briefs resulting from his decades-ago tryst with Senator Larry Craig, but I've got to give props again to him and his compatriots. All these dudes have been on the receiving end of some toe-tapping and/or hot backdoor action with the good Senator from Idaho. Indeed, he da ho. All these men have also given interviews to the Idaho Statesman, further embarrassing Senator Craig and destroying whatever shred of credibility he had left.
You know what, Senator Craig? That's what you get for spending all your time campaigning against the gays in various ways (no gay marriage, no benefits for gay partners, no hate crime laws applied to gays, etc.) to overcompensate for your deep-seated self-loathing: outed as a filthy hypocritical ASSHOLE (aficionado). The great thing is that 2007 appears to be the year in which these neo-con moralizing Jesus freaks have all wound up with egg--or in this case, random fellow airport and/or gay hooker jizz--on their faces. This is Jesus Christ's sweet revenge for these dudes running around being the most hard-hearted, unsympathetic, mean-spirited dickwads in his name and speaking from an undeserved, self-appointed moral high ground to everyone else, and we have these fine homos to thank for it. Kudos, gentlemen.
Trent Lott is next, right in time for Christmas. I mean, this dude didn't even resign from the Senate when he caught heat for bemoaning Strom Thurmond's failure to win the White House for the Dixiecrat/pro-segregation--wait, I mean "states' rights"--ticket. He has had white supremacist lobby groups visit his office and spoken at their events numerous times. I would argue that being a shameless racist is pretty bad, but I bet Senator Lott being outed as a big butt-pirate is probably far worse in his mind. When was complaining about civil rights sending the country to hell, he left his position as Senate Majority Leader kicking and screaming because he felt he was completely right to lament Thurmond's not taking the nation's reins in the '48 election, so it's more than a little bit odd that he just up and resigned last week for no apparent reason. Okay, it might have something to do with some sort of fraudulent insurance hijinks related to Hurricane Katrina, but I prefer to think that it's because there's a gay hooker waiting in the wings ready to come forward with a tawdry, stomach -churning tale of secret down-low anal with the distinguished senator from Mississippi.
Too bad LL Cool Jew has given up the newspaper business. If anyone could break this story wide open, it's her. Just look at her taking Senator Lott to task with her penetrating stare. You can really see how deeply Chester Trent Lott, Sr. offends LL Cool Jew's liberal Jewish San Franciscan lesbian sensibilities:
Labels: assholes, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, gross, overcompensation, perversion, politics, sex, vulgar display of faggotry
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Michael Kors
Real Name: Karl Anderson, Jr.
DOB: August 9, 1959
Occupation: Per Heidi Klum, a "noted American fashion designer," hot-ass judge and uberbitch on "Project Runway"
Hometown: somewhere on Strong Island, New York
Current residence: New York, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Unfortunately for my hitting-it prospects, Michael Kors is about as gay as they get. However, after watching last night's long-awaited return of "Project Runway," I remember exactly what I love so much about the show, and that is Michael Kors being a catty super-fag about almost everything, even stuff he likes. In seasons of "Project Runway" past, Michael Kors has dispensed memorable critiques like "it's as if Comme des Garcons went to the Amish country," "it looks like a Thanksgiving pageant exploded all over her ass," and "oh yeah, you're alluring, wearing your grandma's panties." On the rare occasion when he likes something (ie: Michael Knight from "Project Runway 3"'s Pam Grier-inspired hot pants), he just gives some serious fuck-me eyes and says, "Those are great shorts." Most of the time, he's hating on everything, and I love it. There's really nothing more satisfying than watching some arrogant design school graduate go on for forty-five minutes about how fucking brilliant and innovative their ruching technique is only to have Michael show up and declare that it looks "farty."
All the time off between "Project Runway" seasons has done little to mellow out Michael Kors. Yesterday there was one dress that all the judges liked, even Nina Garcia, who usually hates everything. Nonetheless, Michael zeroed in on the fabric rosette that adorned the shoulder strap and goes, "You know, that flower is a little M.O.B. for my taste."
The designer was like, "Huh?" but didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Michael Kors. Michael Kors was not impressed because he thought the dude was an idiot anyway. He rolled his eyes.
"Mother of the bride, the flower is too mother of the bride!" I was surprised he didn't add a "dumbass" for good measure. Then he realized that it actually was a lovely dress, so he couldn't overhate. Not this early in the season anyway. "I guess the rest of the dress is chic," he conceded.
Damn, there are like 14 more weeks of fabulously bitchy Michael Kors judging panels to watch. SWEET! Good thing I don't think I can get enough of this nasally-voiced asshole. Bravo, Bravo!
Labels: assholes, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, hot dudes, oh the horror, Project Runway, TV, vulgar display of faggotry
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